#that you really just love tennis and we don’t matter

[laniidae-passerine]

haven’t even seen Challengers yet but I’m pretty sure it’s about two best friend tennis players consumed by their love and loathing for each other and the woman they’ve named as their god. and then she walks them both like fucking dogs

[runningthroughthegarden]

dumb young love

1.9k words, summary: when art leaves you in the dust for tashi, a part of you breaks. after an argument art realizes how desperately in love he is with you.

request from @fangirlinc :)

you had gone and done the one thing everyone had warned you not to do. you had fallen in love with your best friend. i mean how could you not? he was handsome, charming, talented, funny, everything you could want in a man and more. you both had such bright futures ahead of you and just loved being in each others company. which is why you never felt the need to profess your love to him. but lately you've been rethinking this choice. 

you obviously knew how close art and patrick were, i mean you guys all practically grew up with each other. this dynamic never really bothered you, why would it? that all changed once tashi came into the picture. 

you had been there, at the match where it all started. you had come to support them like you always had, but within those few days something had shifted and you had no idea why. suddenly the boys were ditching you to go to a party you didn't even know they cared about. 

they had come back to you the next day, raving about how amazing tashi was and the night they spent together. you noticed a glint in art’s eye that wasn't there before, and you tried your hardest to suppress the jealousy you were feeling. 

that day, when patrick won the match, you couldn't help but feel relieved that art would remain yours just for a little longer. what you didn't realize is that art didnt care if patrick was with tashi, because he was still head over heels for her.

 

“hey are we gonna have dinner tonight?” you ask, throwing another tennis ball over the net.

“yeah, just gotta get back to my room and shower” art replies, hitting back the ball with a distraught look on his face. 

“is it tashi?” you sigh.

“what? no-no. i'm just stressed about my next match” he replies, walking over to the bench. 

“you're art donaldson. you’re never stressed about a match. c'mon just tell me” you say as you walk over to him. 

“its just. patrick called and all he can fucking talk about is how amazing tashi is. and then i walk around campus and all i hear is how amazing tashi is. no matter what i do i can’t escape her.” he confesses, putting his head in his hands.

“i can’t imagine you ever wanting to escape her” you reply, letting out a forced laugh. 

“what?” 

“cmon art, from the day you lost that match it’s like your entire world changed or something. i mean all of a sudden your whole life revolves around this girl” you scoff. 

“y/n i really don’t need this shit from you, i’ll see you later” he scoffs, picking up his bag and leaving the court. 

“art!” you call out, only for him to leave you there alone.

standing there you think back to when everything was fine. how art would link his pinky with yours as you walked. the way he would call you everyday when he had to travel for matches. the nights you spent in his dorm trying to cram week's worth of studying into one night. the way he would so effortlessly plant kisses to your forehead. the moments you thought he might actually be in love with you. but now all you had were those memories. 

 

before you knew it, all art was doing was hanging out and helping tashi train. he had been your training partner first, so it hurt like hell to be left in the dust. you decided to try and let it go and focus on winning your matches. your most important match was coming up and you couldn't let your silly love life get in the way. the one person you had always dreamed of being coached by was going to be at your match. so you knew you had to train like crazy to get to work with them. 

a part of you was hoping maybe art would see how amazing your match would be, and finally start paying attention to you again. but you knew you were holding onto false hope. 

 

the day of your match had finally come, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. this was such an important moment for your career and you couldn't shake those nerves. but you knew seeing art up in the stands would give you the boost of confidence you needed. 

the first set was about to start and you still didn’t see art in the stands. you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought that he might not show up. he would never do that to you. right? 

the first set had started and for a moment, the world around you started to fade. you may have hated tashi, but man was she right about tennis. you were performing flawlessly and you knew all the hard work was finally going to pay off. 

after winning your first set, you go back to your seat, taking a breather and still scanning the crowd for art. he was still nowhere to be found and you could feel your sadness turning into anger. deciding to use that as fuel, you prepare yourself for your next set. the rest of the game goes flawlessly and you know this is the best you have ever played. 

hitting the winning point, you stand in shock as cheers come from the stands. thanking your opponent you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face. that is until you spot art in the stands. you could feel all the anger and resentment you suppressed fighting to be released. this had been your best game yet, and there art was, to ruin it.

packing up your bag, you felt a presence behind you. all spectators and coaches were long gone so you knew exactly who was behind you. turning around to face art, you push past him not wanting to hear a word he has to say. 

“y/n please i-” art calls out, quickly catching up with you.

“you what art?!” you yell, turning around to face him.

“you forgot? you had homework? you lost track of time? oh better yet, maybe you were with tashi?” you continue, looking up at him. you could feel hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

he stays silent and thats all the answer you need. 

“oh my god you were” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“please just let me explain” art pleads, a look of desperation you’d never seen before. 

“today was the most important day to me. and i really thought that as my best friend you would at least care a little more. but i know where your priorities lay. and i'm done fighting for a spot i’ll never get” you say as tears quickly spill onto your cheeks. 

art’s hand reaches up to brush away your tears, but you step back. 

“stay the fuck away from me art” you choke out, quickly walking back to your room. 

 

the next few days were hell. spending each day crying in your bed, you had lost not only the love of your life but your best friend. you had gotten a call offering to be coached by someone you could only ever dream of working with. you should’ve felt happy, ecstatic even, but the last conversation you had with art was still ringing through your head. he had called you far too many times and texted you even more. but you had ignored every single one. the first day he came knocking on your door, but gave up after an hour of waiting. the apology flowers he had sent you sat on your desk. you had no idea what you were going to do. until, you got a text from patrick. 

patrick 

hi love, art told me about what happened im sorry. 

y/n

hi, you don’t have to apologize for him being stupid

patrick

do you want to hang out today? try to get your mind off of him

y/n 

actually i would love to

patrick 

meet me outside at 2

getting ready to see patrick was a highlight from these past few days. while you were enjoying your sulking you knew you had to get out at some point. going out to the courtyard, you see patrick sitting on a picnic blanket. your favorite foods and snacks were neatly laid next to him. you felt yourself genuinely smiling for the first time in a really long time. you spent the next hour eating your favorite meal and laughing at stupid shit with patrick. although your heart still hurt, you could feel your spirits rising. 

“thank you for this patrick, it’s all so lovely” you smile. 

“of course i’ll always be here for you” he gleams, pushing away the hair around your face and leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“what the fuck?!” 

you would recognize that voice anywhere. 

“art what are you doing here?” patrick stands up to face him. 

“oh i dont know maybe i go to school here? what the fuck are you doing here patrick?!” he replies, getting closer to patrick. 

“seriously y/n? you run off to patrick?” he questions, obviously distraught but you can't seem to place why. 

“hey you don’t get to blame her for this” patrick replies. 

“oh fuck off patrick would you let her speak” 

grabbing arts hand, you quickly lead him away from the public spectacle this was all becoming. 

“what the hell is wrong with you art?” you yell, shutting your room door. 

“i mean, you completely forgot about me for some other girl and now you're mad at me? none of this makes sense, you broke my heart. you don't get to be angry.” you continue, feeling tears brim your eyes. 

he paces for a second, running his hands through the curls you missed so much. 

“im in love with you” he stops, looking down at you. 

it felt like you were dreaming, like you were imagining the words that just came out of his mouth. 

“i always have been. i've just been so stupid about it. when tashi came around i threw myself at her because i thought there was no way you would ever feel that way towards me. and i know i fucked up by doing that, i really really fucked up. but when i picture my life i see you, i've only ever seen you. and seeing you with patrick, i was scared i lost you. i'm sorry y/n, i really am. i would do anything to take it back.” he confesses. 

“you’re so stupid!” you yell, pushing his shoulders. 

“ive been in love with you for like, forever!” you look up at him, confused as to how he never realized. 

“really?” he asks, pure shock all over his face. 

“yes! i thought it was obvious” you frown. 

before you knew it he was holding your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips. in that moment everything felt right, like the stars had aligned. 

“y’know i'm still mad at you” you look up at him, placing your hands over his. 

“trust me, i will do everything to make it up to you. i'm just glad you're finally mine” he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face as he kissed you again. 

[kendyzzlewp]

The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON

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pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.

tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol

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“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”

Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.

“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”

His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”

Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”

“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”

Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“

You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.

“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”

You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.

“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”

Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.

“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”

A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.

They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.

“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”

You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”

Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.

Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”

He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Eli.”

Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.

“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”

Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”

“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.

Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”

Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”

The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.

“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.

He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3

Thank you for requesting sweetheart!

cw: signs of anxiety

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page. 

Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise. 

Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised. 

“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist. 

“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?” 

“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?” 

You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.” 

“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.” 

By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him. 

“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?” 

“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.” 

Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?” 

You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.” 

“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently. 

“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.” 

James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?” 

“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.” 

Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks. 

James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.” 

“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.” 

A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.” 

Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.” 

Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. 

“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?” 

Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—” 

“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.” 

You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent. 

You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows. 

“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice. 

Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.” 

Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?” 

You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.” 

“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.” 

“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.” 

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?” 

You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.” 

“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”

You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.” 

“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”  

“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.” 

“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.” 

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

There’s a brief pause. 

“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”

[tteokdoroki]

hi aali! my ideal valentines gift would be a dainty tennis bracelet that i’ve been wanting for a while <3 and i’d swipe sweet on sukuna ! (bonus: i buy him a silver chain since he’s been wanting a new one !)

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — RYOMEN SUKUNA. swipe sweet: simplicity.

about. boom, it’s a match! ryomen sukuna and yourself have come to an agreement. no gifts and no materialistic things for v-day… but he really can’t help it, especially because you’ve never received a gift out of love and not because someone is trying to buy it ( 0.7K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, established relationships, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl + fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

ryomen sukuna doesn’t come from money.

he’s an honest man who works an honest job and makes an honest living. he does what he can to support his family and keep his head above water — and that’s enough for him. sukuna wasn’t always this good nor this honest, the rough and troubled days of his youth have hardened his exterior and made him hard to love. 

to everyone except for you. 

you’re a girl that comes from money.

you’ve never worked a day in your life, but you do what you can to be there for siblings way too evil and ungrateful to care about the sacrifices you had made for them. you weren’t always this noble and you didn’t always care and maybe that made you hard to love. 

but you found each other, despite how difficult showing love may be. you found love for yourselves and each other in simplicity and comfortable quietness. in the way that you’re both so alike and yet so different. how you were raised and the backgrounds in which you came from don’t matter you or sukuna. as long as you’re content by one another’s sides. 

that’s why you had a rule. no gifts on valentine’s day — you would settle for one another’s company, perhaps a home cooked meal from sukuna’s skilful hands and some cheap chocolate you'd impulsive bought on the way home. you already owned everything money could buy thanks to your father and his fruitful lifestyle, there wasn’t anything more you could possibly want except for being with your boyfriend like it was any other day. it was simple, being together was simple. 

that’s why you frown as sukuna pushes a small, pink box tied with a little white ribbon across the smooth marble of island in your kitchen. it sits suspiciously between the glass of red wine your boyfriend had poured for you and the roses you had gotten for him (which he liked, he just wouldn’t admit to it.).

“i thought we said no gifts, ryo?” you drawl questioningly, tapping your nails against the counter as you lean over it. 

sukuna doesn’t turn from the stove, his muscled back rippling as he flips your steaks. “that didn’t stop ya from gettin’ me roses, did it, gorgeous?” the smirk he chucks you from over his shoulder stirs the butterflies in your tummy, ones that only react to his love and his touch. “open it up. wanna see the look on your face when you see it.” 

your frown quickly dissipates into an affectionate smile as you take the box between your fingers — fighting a swoon. “i really don’t need anything, ryo. you know that.” the ribbon falls apart in your hands and the lid on the box pops off easily. “i have everything money could buy…” 

but then, your voice dies in your throat just as your boyfriend dishes up your meal and you gift is finally revealed. “everything but somethin’ i’ve gotten you,” your boyfriend says gruffly, mirroring you as he throws a tea towel over his shoulder and leans over the island to take your delicate little gift between his thick, calloused fingers. a tennis bracelet made from the finest silver sits pretty in ryomen’s hands, it’s silver charms glint under the dim and romantic lighting set for tonight. there’s a little ‘s’ for his family nickname, and a heart as if to remind you that his is forever yours.

he reaches out, surprisingly tender for someone so hardened, and grasps your wrist — helping you with the clasp on the little bracelet. “i know you’re not materialistic, couldn't care less about money. but no one’s ever gotten you anythin’ because they care. not because they’re tryna buy your love.” he explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

as if loving you this much is the most normal thing in the world. 

“aww ryo,” pouting, you wrangle his hand into holding your own — looking across at your boyfriend with puppy dog eyes. “you love me? you’re not trying to buy my love?” 

“don’t need to,” he rolls his blood red eyes, but you don’t miss how they brim with love. “ain’t you whipped f’me?” sukuna sasses you, plays mean, but his lips against the inside of your wrist tell you otherwise. he’s just as whipped as you are. 

“kinda,” you respond. 

“only kinda?”

“yeah, sorta.” 

“just say you love me, brat.” 

“alright, ryomen sukuna. i love you.”

and you do, more than what glitter’s and more than what’s gold ( even if your bracelet is silver ). 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[lunar-years]

Peanut gallery social media commentary on Challengers is sooo funny to me.

“Art was the victim!” Did you miss the part where he started stirring shit up between his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend in the hopes they’d break up and he could get with her instead? Or how he chose to cut off his best friend entirely to side with Tashi because Tashi blamed said best friend for her injury (literally he doesn’t even talk to Patrick about the argument? Ever? Just kicks him out of his life because Tashi wants them to LMAO)?

“Patrick was the victim!” Did you miss the part where Patrick spends like 13 years willfully reinserting himself back into a relationship he no longer gets to be a part of all because he’d rather ruin them and come between them and repeatedly hurt them if it means he knows they still think about him, rather than taking ownership of his actions and coming to terms with the fact that they no longer think about him at all? Did you miss the fact that he’s a giant flop on top of being a giant asshole?

“Tashi is an evil cold manipulative bitch who doesn’t care about anything but tennis and comes between them!” Okay what we’re not going to do is 1) act like those two losers weren’t active participants in the vast majority of what was happening to them so that we can blame everything on the woman 2) forget that Tashi spends the entire movie both being incredibly horny for yes tennis, but tennis very much including Art and Patrick specifically, as well as bringing a wrecking ball down on her own life repeatedly because she physically cannot go on without having all three of them in her life.

“The three of them are ALL terrible, bad people!” Are they or they neither good nor bad but a secret third thing (messed up, regular people)? Are they or they all three simultaneously the one’s holding the gun and falling into the graves they’ve dug for themselves?

“The movie promised me a throuple and then didn’t even deliver!/it was just a regular boring old love triangle” Did you miss the part where Patrick was the person who taught Art to jerk off? Did you miss the part where Tashi encourages them to neck her until they’re close enough for her to back away and leave them kissing each other as she watches with horny amusement? Did you miss the fact that they’re both playing for her number? Did you miss Art molding himself into the person who could obtain the glory that Tashi was denied? Or how he saw his fiance/wife kissing her ex boyfriend who also happens to be his ex best friend in Atlanta and then spends like 10 more years doing absolutely nothing about it? Did you miss “Don’t I matter?” “Not to the most obsessive tennis fan in the world” “I’m not talking about tennis” followed by an Art who has stopped caring whether he wins or loses caring, by the end of the match, more than he’s ever cared before, because Patrick DOES matter and because he’s STILL playing for Tashi’s number? Did you miss the part where for about 15 seconds there they were actually playing tennis and they understood each other completely and so did everyone watching and it was a bit like they were in love or like they didn’t exist and they went somewhere really beautiful together? HUH?

“They’re incredibly toxic!” Well, yes! but you see, that’s part of the fun!

[sadesluvr]

Attitude Adjustment

Wrapped up in the grit of the finals of your tennis tournament, Pope doesn’t appreciate you missing dinner with his parents…

SUPER RICH KIDS MASTERLIST

Pope Heyward, someone who prided himself on being mature and oh-so above it all, was incredibly petty when he was annoyed. He'd been giving you the silent treatment since you’d left the restaurant, his hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel of his car as he drove you home in silence.

Today had been a day to have dinner with his parents, Bobby and Cara Heyward, but practise for the upcoming finals of your tennis tournament had gotten in the way. You knew you were fucked the moment you’d shown up to the restaurant fifteen minutes late, with the Heyward family sat down around a table overlooking the ocean, their wine glasses already half full and complimentary bread half eaten.

You’d tried your hardest to smooth out your white dress you’d thrown on in the changing rooms of the leisure centre, but you still looked frazzled - with frayed edges and glowing skin from perspiration. Pope usually liked you like this, but certainly not on this occasion.

Bobby and Cara’s adorning had offered little comfort to you - they already loved you - and you could only focus on Pope’s clenched jaw, side eyeing you as he tapped on the side of his glass.

“I’m so sorry Mr and Mrs Heyward!” you pouted before taking a sip of water. “I got caught up with practise, and I just lost track of time --”

“No worries, Peaches,” Heyward said. You’d become fond of the nickname. “Cara and I know how much this means to you. And you know to call me Bobby.” he smiled, which you returned.

“We can’t wait to see you with that trophy!” Mrs Heyward gushed. “Whether you win or not, you know we’re going to celebrate – all the family’s around for his uncle’s birthday.” She finished, nodding over to her son, who wore a dull expression on his face. He barely spoke to you the whole night.

“Why are you being like this?” you huffed, staring over at him. His lips twitched, but he didn’t respond. “I said I was sorry. It’s not like I didn’t show up...God fucking forbid if I hadn’t.”

“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.” Pope replied, voice monotone and eyes locked on the road.

“Oh, like you really care about all that shit?” you scoffed. “Your ‘Ma would have a heart attack if she heard the way you spoke about the other students, let alone when we’re together.”

“Can you – not – talk for a second? I’ve got a headache.” He said matter-of-factly, his childishness beginning to sink deeper under your skin.

Pursing your lips, you nonchalantly glanced out of the window before reaching for the radio, quickly connecting your phone to the Bluetooth and shuffling through your playlist, playing the music so that the bass vibrated through the leather interior of his Range Rover and under your skin.

It was loud; obnoxiously so, made all the more dramatic by the fact that you had the windows rolled down, giving a show to all those who passed. Pope winced; teeth gritted behind the closed mouth of his frown, tolerating your behaviour for those last couple of blocks leading up to your house, only to swerve into the driveway, causing you to jerk about in your seat.

“What the fuck was that about?!” you gasped, grabbing at the straps of your seatbelt, so in shock that you hadn’t noticed Pope lock the doors. “Right in my parents’ driveway?”

“Why don’t you go in there and tell them how much of a bad boyfriend I am, then?” he snarled, shrugging his shoulders. “While you’re there, tell them about how you can’t keep track of time.”

“Are you seriously still on this? You can’t let anything go, can you?” you said, folding your arms. A small smirk appeared on your face as the following words left your mouth. “Sometimes being with you is like living in a dictatorship. The frat boys would never treat me like this --”

You were cut off by Pope, his fingers pinching your cheeks together as he angled your head to face him; his grip gentle, but commanding.

“If you wanna leave me for an idiotic manchild like Rafe Cameron then go ahead,” he hummed, a smirk wiped across his face. “At least let me teach you how to act first. I don’t want him thinking that I can’t control my girl...”

Your cunt throbbed as Pope’s spare hand snuck down to his pants, where a visible bulge had formed by his pelvis, making it a struggle for him to undo his zipper. Maintaining his grip on your face, he snuck his index finger into your mouth, watching as your glossy lips suckled at the digit, your eyes wide as you followed his gaze down to his cock. Pope’s dick was perfect; longer than it was girthy, with a pinkish-brown tip. Fully erect, it rested against his stomach as he gave it a few languid strokes, brown eyes gazing into your own, his hand still holding onto your face.

“Be a good girl and make it up to me.” He said in that low, rambling tone you’d become accustomed to, giving your cheeks a sarcastic squeeze as he lowed your head onto his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you took him in your mouth. You needn’t cast a worried look up the driveway – the porch lights of your home were on, but it was almost too far away to see anything too explicit. At best, your parents would think you were talking.

Pope wasted no time in making you gag – pushing your head down on his dick so that you took all of him. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of winning, you pressed your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, wrapping your manicured fingers around his base and jerking him off.

“That’s right...” he grinned. “Use that fucking tongue, princess. I bet you mouth me off just so I can clean it out, huh?”

All you could do was let out a muffled moan, peering up at him through your lashes as his hands roamed your body, lingering on the hem of your dress before deciding to slide his fingers up your thighs to paw at the round skin of your ass. Meanwhile, you were busy in pleasuring him; his cock now glistening in the summer evening as his plump lips were parted as he let out a groan, hands firmly planted on the nape of your neck.

Resisting him, you moved up to bob on his tip, staring into his half-lidded brown eyes. He always fell for this move; you tugging at his cock whilst flicking your tongue on his tip, making sure to tease the tiny hole. He twitched, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he pulled away, frowning at you.

“Aw, Popeyyy,” you drawled, the nickname getting under his skin. “What did I do?”

“Bend over the wheel.” Pope said in a monotone voice, drawing his seat back. Wiping your mouth, you instinctively crawled into his lap, your chest grazing the material of the wheel as you felt him lift your dress. You gasped as he pushed your panties aside, sticking a few fingers into you as he admired your wetness.

He tutted.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he began, fingers curling into your sensitive spot. “All those scholarships and honour rolls you’ve made can’t take away from the fact that you’re just a desperate slut, hm? Daddy’s gonna give you what you need...”

He pushes himself into you without warning, and you grip onto the dashboard. A sharp slap on your ass tells you that he wants you to do the work too; and you immediately start to rock your hips, his large hands gripping your respective ass cheek as he spread your pussy apart; admiring the way your juices mixed as he disappeared in you. His uncovered cock feels different; filling, but tangible and raw, and it's as if you can feel his every inch, throb and vibration – you could get used to this.

It doesn’t take you long to find a rhythm – you’re fucking each other fast, but somehow, he still manages to go deep, hitting your g-spot with his tip on every thrust, skin clapping together pornographically. You’re moaning his name like a bitch in heat, your throat dry from your incessant whining, but he doesn’t stop, instead gripping your hips so that he can buck up into you like a rabbit.

“P-Pope...”

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts. “None of that sentimental shit now. You know to call me daddy...”

“Fuck -- Daddy...Please, I’m ---” you splutter, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone sentence. He’s drilling you as if there were no tomorrow, right in the middle of your parents’ driveway...and you couldn’t have loved it more.

“Look at me when you say it.” He commands, his voice cold but laced with lust.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you bite your lip before turning to look at him, eyebrows raised and a euphoric expression on your face, mewling out how sorry you are as he holds you down on his hips, his movements sloppy as he begins to near his orgasm. There’s a smirk on his face as his hands snake up to your neck, tugging on the silver chain necklace you’d worn – a dainty, expensive little piece he’d bought for your anniversary.

Balling it up in his hands, he pulls you into him, his chest pressed against your back as he moans in your ear.

“I’m gonna fill this pussy up, ok? Maybe if I knock you up, you’ll quit with all that attitude...”

Your stomach did knots at the thought, and you soon became undone – with Pope quickly following – your fluids mixing as they dripped down his cock, pooling at the base and forming a creamy ring. You were certain that your dress was stained, but it was the least of your worries considering he’d just given you a creampie, and you’d have to take the inevitable walk of shame up the driveway, past your parents and to your bedroom – that was of course if you could even walk.

Coming down from your high, you took a moment to fix yourself, your head turning as you watched Pope open his wallet, sliding you $100.

“For Plan B,” he said, his voice as smug as ever. “And some new panties. I’ll take care of the dress next time I see you.”

And there was the responsible Pope that you knew and loved. Smart, smug, sensual...It was all too obvious that you would marry him some day.

[foreingersgod]

Ur so right about cc content being non existent 😭. I was wondering if I could request a cc fic or hc with Pro Tennis player!reader 🫡

Of course my love!! hope you like it :)

A/N: i’m not a huge athlete so apologies if this has slight inaccuracies

Battered and Bruised . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: typically caitlin is the one that comes home with the injuries, but when you take a nasty fall during your big tennis match, she’s the one to take care of you.

you love caitlin, but god did she get hurt a lot. you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tired of the late nights stood between caitlin legs as she sat on the seat of the toilet, tending to countless bruises and scrapes.

but there were a fair share of sweet moments when she’d come home from an intense game. regardless of the pain she was in, her eyes would never leave your face. she was entranced by how beautiful you looked: hair messy from your evening practices on the court, mascara slightly smudged under your eyes, the way your tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth while you tried to open the bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

“please stop staring, i look like shit” you’d say.

“you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my life” she’d reply, fingers fiddling with your skirt “i’m so insanely lucky”.

and she really meant it, she’s so grateful to have someone like you. someone who was willing to ‘nurse her back to health’, as you put it, no matter how late in the night it was or how little the cut might be. she wished you could understand how much something so little could mean the most.

so when you came home from a pretty nasty game, skin drenched in sweat, knees sore and covered purple, and your feet blistered, she knew this was her moment to return the favor.

“holy shit, YN, you look terrible” caitlin said, shocked to see you so beaten up.

“gee, thanks babe” you dropped your duffel bag and racket at the door, collapsing on the couch. you did your best to give her a sarcastic smile, but everything hurt and you could barely feel your face.

“stop that’s not what i meant,” she wasted no time rushing to your side to sit next to you. pulling up both of your legs to rest across her lap, she gently removed your socks and shoes to rub your aching feet. “what the fuck happened today?”

you honestly don’t really even know what happened, the match started off so well. but the entire time you couldn’t stop thinking about how caitlin wouldn’t be there this time due to conflicting schedules and it really threw you off your game.

“everything happened” you sighed, rubbing your head “first, you weren’t there today, so all i could think about was how badly i wanted to come home to you. then i kept messing up all my drills before we started…and the girl i was against today was so fucking bitchy and such a dirty player! i just couldn’t keep up like i normally do and i just…” you rambled mindlessly as pain shot through your entire body.

she reached over to push the hair out of your face, softly rubbing her thumb over your cheekbone. “YN…”

“and i just kept tripping and i skinned my leg, i think at some point the ball hit me square in the head so now my whole fucking head hurts” you cried.

“baby, it’s ok, shhh, you’re ok” she cooed, forcing you to sit up next to her and she enveloped you into a hug. you just wanted to cuddle up into the side of her hoodie and stay there forever.

caitlin held you for a few minutes while you tried to catch your breath and give your body a break. her hand found its way to your hair once again, pulling out your pony tail and headband to massage your scalp.

“i think it’s my turn to take care of you this time” she finally whispered into your ear. she could practically feel your smile against her shoulder.

“i think that’d be nice”

“alright stay put for me, don’t move a muscle”

your girlfriend grabbed your gear as she headed up the stairs so she could put everything away for you. then she headed into the bathroom, dimming the lights and starting the bath. she made to sure to add your favorite bubble bath (the one your sister got you for Christmas last year) and some epsom salts to ease your sore muscles. on top of all this, she made an extra effort to set out some fresh clothes for you and hang up a new towel on your designated hook.

you perked up when she finally game down the stairs, eager to see what took her so long.

“ok, up you go” she urged, helping you off the couch and up the stairs. her hand rested at the small of your back, fingers lightly toying with the band of your skirt as she guided you towards the bathroom.

once she opened the door to reveal the elegant bath she had prepared for you, you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan of relief. the bubbles, the steam, the smell of the room could just about make you cry.

“i hope it’s ok, i made to sure to add in the stuff you like to help you relax a little bit, but tell me if it’s too much or too hot or anything and i’ll-” your lips found hers before she could finish her sentence. your fingers desperately grabbed at her hoodie, trying to pull her as close to you as you could. lips molding into one another’s with ease.

“this is perfect, caitlin. i don’t even know what to say”

“don’t say anything, just get in” she smiled at you.

like the sweet woman she is, caitlin helped you undress. assisting you with your sports bra and taking off your wristbands for you too. as you stepped in the warm water, you instantly felt alleviated and sunk into the comfort. while you closed your eyes, caitlin sat next to the tub on the toilet, soaking a rag in some cleanser to take off the days makeup and wipe away the sweat and grime.

when it was time to wash up, she forced your hand away from your shampoo bottles and body wash, begging you to let her do it for you. you had to admit, it felt good to let her do all the work for you and pamper you tonight.

after soaking in the tub for nearly an hour and caitlin allowing you to vent about the match, you finally forced yourself out and let caitlin dress you for bed. she had set out your “women’s tennis” college t-shirt and matching shorts for you and helped you into bed.

“so what you’re saying is i’ve got to start getting hurt out there more often?” you teased as cait settled behind you and pulled you against her chest so she could help you brush out your hair.

“god please don’t do that,” she laughed “not that i still wouldn’t do this for you regardless, but you just always take such good care of me when i come home battered and bruised.”

she stopped combing to kiss the side of you head and snake her arms around your waist. “you’re so good to me, baby. i love you, you deserve this and so much more”

though almost falling asleep from pure exhaustion, you managed to turn your head to catch her in one last kiss and a soft “i love you”. you were so blessed to have her in this life and the next.

*ೃ༄

A/N: sorry if this is a little vague for “tennis player!reader”, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, thank you for the request <3

[as-is-yours]

happy 2024 summer olympics!

some tog watching the olympics hcs for the soul because i love the olympics and i decided they do too:

andy competed in the ORIGINAL greek olympics. yes she did

with the guard being as competitive as they are, the olympics are a BIG deal in the safe house - it’s like the football world cup but all day every day for three weeks straight

it’s obviously too dangerous for the guard to attend the olympics these days with all of the cameras and media, so they hunker down in a safehouse and watch as much as they can on TV

they used to go most years though, nicky even told nile that he considered competing in olympic shooting back in the mid 1900s but it was too high profile to risk it

quynh was in the ocean when they brought back the olympic games as we know them today. her first olympics year back with the guard she asks andy why everyone is clothed and where the victors wreaths are

nile LOVES the olympics so she fits right into the dynamic when the first olympics of her time with the guard roll around

she was a little nervous about coming on too strong that first year, but when she saw how hard they roast each other and how much they goaded her into being just as competitive and aggressive as they were, she settled in easily

they would later regret unlocking that part of her once they realize how painful watching the olympics with an american is

nile keeps a scoreboard on the wall next to the TV where she updates the medal counts daily and reminds everyone who’s winning (the usa)

joe, quynh, and booker prefer the summer olympics while nile and andy prefer the winter olympics. nicky is just happy to make some money off of booker when france loses, no matter the season

“andy im getting us a peacock account to watch the olympics, they’re starting next week” “peacock account? what the hell is peacock? like the bird??”

there’s ALWAYS a bet going on. for the full duration of the olympic games there is never not a bet going on

nile will be doing joe’s dishes for a month after kaylia nemour beat suni lee in the uneven bars final

booker owes nicky €300 after italy advanced out of the first round of the women’s doubles tennis tournament (france did not) and another €1000 for italy winning the gold medal

andy stays out of the betting for the most part, or just picks the best athlete rather than one representing her home nation

“andy, that’s cheating—” “the scythians were nomadic. i don’t even remember where i was born so i’ll pick whichever athlete i damn well please, and you—” “okay, fine! we get it!”

andy found quynh wandering in a desert, quynh doesn’t really remember where she’s from either so she picks her favorite athletes based on vibe and which countries were her favorites to travel around with andy

there aren’t nearly as many north african athletes as there are italian, french, and american so joe starts adopting the athletes with the most heartwarming comeback/underdog stories as his faves

i feel like nile LOVES usa gymnastics having been a teen watching gabby douglas and simone biles!

that girl was SAT for every gymnastics event cheering on team usa like it was her job

andy has broken her neck attempting to pull off the stunts she sees in olympic snowboarding, gymnastics, skateboarding, figure skating, etc…. but sometimes she nails them. and it’s sick as fuck

nile is from the midwest i know she’s an ice hockey enjoyer. she pregames the winter olympics by making the guard watch miracle (2004) (nicky cries)

booker makes a drinking game for watching the games. he prints out the rules and pins them up next to nile’s medal count. take a sip when an announcer starts yelling, a shot when a random celebrity is shown on the broadcast, and finish your drink when a medalist cries

whenever great britan places below one of the guard’s countries, copley receives a very vulgar and unsportsmanlike text from them

no, quynh does not watch swimming events. thank you for asking

the couch is NOT a safe space. anything goes during the olympics. anyone who gets too mean (or whose athlete loses) can and will be pushed off the couch and exiled to the armchair

i will surely update this as the olympics continue and my friends and i get up to more hijinks. stay tuned and enjoy the greatest sporting event ever conceived

[newtonsheffield]

Recently learned the term "Golden Slam" in reference to a player who has won all four major titles, as well as an Olympic gold in the same year. I'm guessing Kate is teed up for such a victory? She would be in a rare group of three other women... including Graf in 1988 (and no one since). 👀

Oh for sure.

That’s the question everyone’s asking in the lead up to the US Open. Kate Sharma’s in the best form of her already impressive career. She’s won the Australian Open, French Open, Wimbledon, and not one but two gold medals. All she needs is to win the US Open and it’s done. She’s the defending Champion there and everyone’s talking about it. She’s asked again and Again about it in the lead up, and her answer’s always the same.

“Of course, that would be an incredible end to our season. My team and I have really worked hard this year, we’ve made a lot of changes to the way we do things and we’ve been seeing good results, obviously. But… that’s not really what we’re focused on coming into the tournament. I’m just focused on playing the best tennis I can.”

“Any winter plans after the WTA finals?”

“Yeah,” Kate laughed, “I’m going to sleep in and block my Mum’s calls for a few days. Bless her.”

Outwardly she’s pretending she doesn’t care. Of course she is, that’s who she is. But when she’s alone with Anthony in their hotel room of course it matters. Her head cushioned against his chest.

“I really want to do it.”

Anthony nodded, his fingers making soothing circles against the skin of her back. “You know you can still be the best without it right? You don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”

That was one of the things she loved about Anthony. His firm belief that everything she did should be for her. What other people said didn’t matter. It wasn’t wasting a gift if she didn’t win everything. Mary had tried to tell her the same so many times but it had been a lesson she had to learn for herself.

“I know. But I still want to win.”

Anthony’s chuckle vibrated through her. “Of course you do. We’re competitive monsters.”

“Our children are going to be wild.”

“Thinking about my babies? Calm down Sharma.”

Kate can hardly believe it when her opponent hits the ball and it lands in the net and the tension breaks and the crowd roars. Her racquet fell to the ground in surprise and tears stung at her eyes as she stepped forward to shake hands with the other woman and then the umpire.

Then she takes off running, climbing into the stands to the box where her family’s waiting for her. Tears are running down her face by the time she wraps her arms around Mary, then Edwina and finally Anthony who spins her around while the crowd roars.

“Go take a bow.”

It’s the first question she gets asked when she returns to centre court, a golden slam, how does that feel?

“Honestly, yeah it feels incredible. But, I didn’t do this by myself. Obviously my Mum, she nearly did this in the final year she was on the tour and I wanted to do this for the two of us. My sister who grumbles about filling in as my hitter but I don’t think a lot of people realise that at Wimbledon last year I was probably in the worst headspace of my life. I… genuinely don’t know if I’d still be playing tennis if I hadn’t met Anthony. He’s been a huge part of my success this year and I know he’d disagree with me but this success is his as well. I love you, let’s blow off work and go on holiday.”

The crowd roared with laughter and the season’s not done yet, but it feels done. For her it feels done. One of the greatest there ever was at 23, with years still to come in her career.

[madwcman]

never gonna love again

pairing: remus lupin x fem! reader

summary: inspired by “cowboy like me” by taylor swift

warnings: fluff, slight angst, remus smokes a cigarette, mentions of drinking (very brief) & lyrics are in italics & bold

authors note: i finally finished this!! it’s a little long i hope you guys don’t mind :)

“and the tennis court was covered up with some tent-like thing. and you asked me to dance, but i said, ‘dancing is a dangerous game.’ oh, i thought this is gonna be one of those things. now i know, i’m never gonna love again.”

you really never saw this coming; lily evans marrying james potter. it was funny how one of your closest friends married the person she claimed to have hated back in hogwarts. you watch silently on the side as lily and james happily dance in a crowd of happy couples under bright lights.

“they look happy don’t they?” a deep voice asks, slightly startling you, you turn to look at your surprise visitor. your eyes meet the face of remus lupin. a boy (now man) you used to go to school with and a good friend of james.

“yes, yes they do.” you state matter of fact, turning your head back to the people dancing. “i’m remus.” you turn your head to look at remus again, he has his hand out, wanting to shake hands with you. “i know who you are.” it came out more rude than you intended. but you didn’t apologize. “oh” he's a little surprised by your blunt response, but gives you a smile. “well would you like to dance y/n?”

“i’m not sure about that.” you’re hesitant, you can’t really dance and you don’t know remus. you’re not sure if you want to. but the man wasn’t going to give up. “well we don’t have to dance, c'mon.” remus keeps his hand out for you to grab. you were still hesitant to take remus hand not knowing where the tall man intended to take you, but you finally decided to go. it was better than just standing on the sidelines watching people dance.

“i've got some tricks up my sleeve. takes one to know one, you're a cowboy like me”

you let remus walk you outside of the big white tent where the wedding ceremony was still taking place around your friends. it’s a grassy green area with nothing around but wildflowers. remus lets go of your hand and takes a few more steps forward. reaching into his pockets. he grabs a lighter and a cigarette packet, grabbing one and quickly lighting it.

“do you mind?” he questions, slightly raising an eyebrow. “no, not at all” you shrug your shoulders, as remus mumbles a “thanks” as he lifts the cigarette to his mouth. “so why take me out here?” you question as remus smokes. “just wanted to talk to you.” you walk toward remus and decide to sit down, he joins you; cigarette still in his mouth. you watch him silently while he smokes his cigarette. “ya know, i’ve always found you pretty while attending hogwarts.” remus turns to look at you, a smile on his face.

“yeah?” you’re a little baffled really not expecting to hear that from remus. you always thought remus was out of your league and you’ve never really had the guts to say you liked him back then. “yeah, of course how could i not?” you just shrug not knowing how to answer his question. “i’ve always found you quite pretty too.” you say silently, remus laughs at that, he has never been described as pretty from others except from james. “you’re a liar.” he claims, still laughing. “believe it or not lupin i did.” he stops laughing, and stares at you for a moment, trying to figure out if you’re lying. “really?” and you’re surprised he doesn’t believe you. “everyone had a crush on you back then.”

“as they did you.” and it was true. you both did have a dating history back in hogwarts, but you haven’t dated much now since you left school. it grows quiet between the two of you, remus looks down at you with a small smile with of course a hint of mischief in it.

“can i kiss you?” remus moves closer to you waiting for an answer. you nod your head a little fast, letting out a shaky “yes”, remus places one hand under your chin and the other on the side of your face delicately. as if you're made of glass, lifting your head up as he slightly bends down to kiss you. soft and tender, are the words to describe this kiss. you’ve kissed plenty of people in your life but none of them felt as soft and sweet as this kiss with remus. he held you and touched you so tenderly, no one has ever held you like this. it was nice, it was new for you. you move in more confident, asking remus to give you more, you move your hands up to remus dark hair gripping it.

“lupin get your grimy hands off lily’s friend and join the rest of us back in the tent!” you pull back from remus with a gasp of surprise leaving your lips. remus backs up a little from you, as you turn to look at sirius, remus just shakes his head giving sirius a thumbs up while looking down at you. as sirius walks back into the tent you turn your head to remus. and now it’s silent and you feel slightly awkward, now making yourself smaller, letting go of remus and holding your arms against yourself. not knowing what to do. remus laughs a little, sensing the awkwardness. “can i have your number?” he asks with a smile hoping you’ll say yes. “yeah, yeah you can.”

remus gets your number and makes a promise to call you before he turns and makes his way back to the tent leaving you alone to join your friends. you know remus had a history with dating people back at hogwarts.. you couldn’t judge since you did as well. you’re just nervous it’s going to end how it always does. it’s just going to end as a one time thing.

“never wanted love just a fancy car. now i'm waiting by the phone, like i'm sitting in an airport bar. you had some tricks up your sleeve takes one to know one.”

after that one interaction with remus at the wedding, he promised to call and he did, you’ve been seeing remus for a month now. and you never expected to fall in love this fast but you did. you fell hard. you love spending your days with remus. he was exciting, fun, smart and sweet. you wait for his every move and wait for every call. it’s like you have nothing better to do than to just sit and wait like you would at an airport bar.

you’re sitting on the couch reading a book while waiting for remus to call you, he said he would call sometime today. and you just can’t wait to talk to him. the phone rings and you quickly discard the book and pick up the phone. excited to talk to remus. “hello?” and it’s only a few seconds of silence until on the other end of the line you hear remus’ voice. “hi dove!” you can’t see remus but you’re sure he has a crooked smile on his face. “remus, hi!” you say brightly and a little loud, he laughs a little, “can i come over? i miss you.”

“yes!” you say it too quick and fast to your liking. you try to save it with a little cough. “er- i mean yeah.” and he laughs again, knowing you were trying to play it cool. you feel heat creep onto your cheeks, flushed and a little embarrassed. “okay i’ll come over”

“great” you say quietly and fondly. “i should be over by five, is that okay?” you shake your head but remus isn’t there to see it. “yes i can’t wait to see you.” you state, with a smile. “i can’t wait to see you dove, i’ll see you later.”

and you blush, happy remus also can’t wait to see you. and love’s spending time with you. “i’ll see you.” the phone call ends, you sigh and mentally jab at yourself, you were supposed to play it cool. instead you embarrassed yourself. you were a fool in love.

“you're a cowboy like me; perched in the dark. telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear. like it could be love. i could be the way forward, only if they pay for it. you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars. hustling for the good life. never thought i'd meet you here. it could be love. we could be the way forward. and i know i'll pay for it.”

it’s later in the day, almost night. you and remus are laying together in your bed, limbs tangled together. holding onto one another. it’s been a long day, and you wanted remus to stay the night. not really wanting to part from him.

it’s quiet, a comfortable quiet, which you always enjoy when you're with remus. but you have this feeling to get off your chest. you enjoy remus and his company. and you’re in love with him but you're scared. you’ve never really been in love with anyone like this.

“remus if we fall in love, i’m going to pay for it.” you state intensely. not really knowing why you’re telling him this.

remus laughs looking down at you, a little puzzled by your intense claim. “what do you mean?”

and you look up to him, he has a lazy smile and kind eyes. “it’s either i’m going to get my heart broken by you or i’m going to fall madly in love with you either way i’m going to pay for it.”

it’s silent for a moment, the moment now feeling heavy. you ruined it you thought. but his lazy smile turns bright and his cheeks turn a little red while he pulls you as close to him as he can “well i hope you pay for the later.”

“and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up. and the old men that i've swindled really did believe i was the one. and the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town, but that was all before i locked it down.”

remus invited you to come to sirius’ party, you were excited. the party so far was okay, nothing too crazy. you met some of remus’ friends and saw a few old ones as well. and had a few drinks here and there. not really feeling up to socializing, you stand by remus side as he talks to a few people.

“so you’re remus’ new girlfriend?” you turn and see sadie, a girl you used to go to school with; she was one of remus ex girlfriends. “yeah she is”, remus answers for you, turning to look at you and sadie.

“oh! well it probably won’t last.” she says it lamely, as if she’s bored with this topic already.

you utter a confused “what “ as remus glares at sadie, warning her. she doesn’t notice remus stare or she simply doesn’t care she laughs and turns to you with a wide open smile.

“remus never keeps a girlfriend around long.” she jokes, with a laugh that seems a little too fake. “he gets bored, don’t you rem?” you look over at remus with concern. “sure, sadie.” he says curtly, as he grabs your hand leading you somewhere else to sit and talk.

you’re trying really hard to not let sadie get into your head, but it was really hard. what had she meant by remus doesn’t keep girlfriends around long? does she mean remus doesn’t want anything that’s long term? or doesn’t like anything too serious? will he cut you off when things are too serious? you hope that’s not the case.

remus leads you outside the house to the backyard, he takes a seat on the ground and tilts his head up to you raising an eyebrow, asking you to join him. you sit down besides him.

“are you okay?” he asks while grabbing your hand holding it. you reassure him with a small “i’m fine” he looks at you for a moment and you can’t indicate what he’s thinking. “are you sure?” he asks again, you sigh not wanting to pick a fight with him about your overthinking thoughts. “remus just let it be.” your tone sounds a little agitated, and mean. you can see remus is taken back by it.

“you’re acting like a child.” he shakes his head, his arms crossing in front of his chest, his eyes narrowing at you, quickly adding, “is this about what sadie said?” you go quiet for a moment, knowing it was. sadie got into your head about your relationship with remus. the silence answered remus' question. he scoffs at you. “it is.”

“re-“ before you can explain how you feel remus interrupts you. “this is ridiculous.” he’s scolding you as if you're a child, his voice is low and a little cruel. he gets up from the ground and turns his back towards you walking back into the house leaving you outside alone.

“now you hang from my lips, like the gardens of babylon. with your boots beneath my bed forever is the sweetest con.”

it’s been a few days since your argument with remus. you haven’t seen or heard from him. after your argument with remus you just decided to leave the party, you didn’t have the guts to see remus after and you weren’t in a partying mood. these past few days you wonder if you officially messed things up with remus. he hasn’t called or texted, but you haven’t exactly called or texted him either, you’re a little scared to. you don’t want what you have with remus to end. but you want to talk to remus.

grabbing your phone and calling remus you wait with anticipation, hoping he’ll answer your call. the phone rings for a while until it stops and it’s silent for a moment.

“hello?” you sigh in relief as remus answers the call. and you’re silent trying to figure out what to say. “dove are you there?” remus comes to your rescue, ending the silence for you.

“remus, i miss you.” you finally manage to word out. you’re nervous he’s still mad at you.

“i missed you too.” he quickly follows up with you, and your nerves ease down.

“i’m sorry.” and you are, you should’ve talked to remus at the party. “i’m sorry for leaving and not talking to you, it was mean” you quickly add explaining your apology.

“you don’t have to be sorry love, i’m sorry for not hearing you out.. and for being short with you.” remus assures you. “can you come over please?” you ask softly, missing remus. “of course.” you both say goodbye to each other and end the phone call with a smile on your face.

“i've had some tricks up my sleeve, takes one to know one; you're a cowboy like me. and I'm never gonna love again.”

you fell in love with remus, it wasn’t a one time thing or another short term relationship just like your previous relationships. you’re happy where you are now with him, sitting on the couch humming to music that’s playing. as one song ends and another starts to play. remus goes to stand. “y/n dance with me?” he reaches for your hand and you instantly grab it.

“i’m not good at dancing.” you claim, nervously, looking up at remus. “that’s okay, i’ll teach you.” remus places your hands where they need to be placed and starts to sway slowly to the music.

you stay like that for a moment, dancing with remus. you look up towards him with a small, shy smile. “remus, i’m never gonna love again.” and he could barely hear it, your voice small and quiet but he heard it. “meaning?” he chuckles a little to himself holding you tighter, while dancing. “i’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you. i’m never going to love anyone like this again.” you say softly as you both continue to sway yourselves to the end of the song.

[pepi1989]

You’re single handedly saving the Ben Shelton fanfic world 😭 can you write a long (if possible, I love reading long fleshed out stories) story about a hot, summer vacation as a break from the tennis tour? Like on a yacht or in Greece, or maybe even in Florida.

I really like tennisplayer!reader so it’d be nice if both reader and Ben are taking a break together from tour and just lazing about together and being loving and cozy, maybe a bit flirty/suggestive too but nothing smutty. Thank you!

I'm in charge of keeping the Ben Shelton fanfic ship floating lol, please keep requesting things guys i love writing these <3

Sunkissed - Ben Shelton

The summer sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything it touched. You and Ben had finally stepped off the endless grind of the tennis tour, a much-needed break from the constant travel and matches. Now, instead of the whir of tennis balls and the thwack of rackets, there was only the sound of gentle waves lapping against the side of the yacht.

Ben leaned against the railing, the breeze tousling his curls as he turned to you with a smile that had you weak in the knees. “I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

You laughed, settling beside him. “No tennis rackets, no early training, just us.”

The yacht rocked softly beneath your feet as the horizon stretched out, endless and blue. You let out a content sigh, already feeling your body ease into the relaxation you hadn’t felt in months. Ben wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, his warmth like the sun itself.

“We earned this,” he said, his voice low and sweet. “A whole summer of nothing but… this.”

“This,” you repeated with a grin, tipping your head back to soak in the sunshine. “And maybe a few more kisses?”

He chuckled, tilting your face toward his, lips brushing softly against yours. “I think that can be arranged.”

The day unfolded lazily, just like that. A delicious kind of nothingness, your bodies intertwined on sunbeds, laughter floating into the air as the boat drifted along the coast. It was Greece, of course. The white-washed buildings gleamed in the distance, and the scent of salty air mixed with the sweetness of fruit that you both snacked on between light conversation.

“Do you think anyone misses us yet?” Ben asked, lying beside you, hand lazily tracing patterns on your arm.

“Definitely,” you teased, leaning into his touch. “But they’ll survive. We deserve to just be.”

You lay in comfortable silence, his fingers brushing your skin every so often, and you felt like you could melt right into him, into the sun, into the moment. Nothing else mattered. Not the next tournament, not the next match. Just him and this stolen time.

After a while, Ben shifted beside you, sitting up and holding out a hand. “Wanna take a dip? The water’s perfect.”

You took his hand with a playful grin. “Race you to the water?”

Ben’s competitive spark lit up instantly, his smile widening. “You sure about that? I don’t want you to get embarrassed.”

“Oh, you’re on, Shelton.”

Laughing, you both scrambled to the edge of the yacht, diving into the crystal-clear water at the same time. The cool sea wrapped around you, a perfect contrast to the heat above. When you resurfaced, Ben was floating on his back, eyes closed with that peaceful expression you loved so much.

You splashed him lightly, and he cracked one eye open. “Hey! What was that for?”

“Felt like you were getting a little too relaxed,” you teased, swimming closer until you were practically nose to nose. “Can’t let you get too comfortable now.”

He chuckled, pulling you toward him until your legs tangled under the water. “You’re the one who said no tennis, no competition. Are you trying to break your own rule?”

You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his. “Maybe.”

Ben’s eyes softened as he gazed at you, the moment shifting from playful to something deeper, warmer. “You know,” he murmured, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I really don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as the sincerity in his voice sank in. “Oh, I don’t know,” you replied, brushing your fingers through his wet curls. “Maybe because you’re a decent guy? Some might even say charming.”

He smiled, that boyish grin that always made your stomach flutter. “Only some?”

“Well, maybe more than some,” you admitted, cheeks flushing under his gaze.

Ben pulled you closer, his lips brushing yours softly again. “I love you,” he whispered, voice barely louder than the sound of the waves lapping against the boat.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your chest fill with warmth. “I love you, too.”

The kiss that followed was slow, gentle, but filled with a thousand unspoken promises. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were grinning like lovesick teenagers, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how perfect everything felt.

“Let’s stay here forever,” you said, half-joking, half-serious.

Ben pressed his forehead to yours again. “I’d love nothing more.”

Back on the yacht, as the afternoon sun started to dip lower, casting everything in shades of gold and pink, you and Ben sprawled out on the deck, wrapped in towels, hair still damp from the swim. He fed you slices of watermelon between light conversation, both of you too blissed out to worry about anything beyond this moment.

“You ever think about what’s next?” you asked quietly, eyes on the horizon.

Ben’s hand found yours, fingers intertwining. “Sometimes. But not right now. Right now, I’m thinking about how lucky I am to be here with you. To have someone who gets it, who gets me.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling that familiar tug in your chest again. “We make a pretty good team, huh?”

“The best,” he agreed, bringing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.”

The evening unfolded in the same relaxed rhythm. As the sky darkened, you moved to the yacht’s upper deck, where the stars began to blink into view, one by one. Ben wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the two of you looked up at the night sky.

“I could get used to this,” you said, voice soft.

“Me too,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s never leave.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “I think we might need to eventually. But for now, this is perfect.”

Ben tightened his hold on you, his voice low and filled with affection. “For now, it’s just us. No worries, no matches. Just you and me.”

You smiled, closing your eyes and savoring the moment. This was everything. And for as long as it lasted, you were determined to make every second count.

[lockefanfic]

Toy - Part 9: Ball Boy

Yoo Jeongyeon was, above all else, a breath of fresh air.

She was so unlike the other eight, and in more ways than one. The others put a lot of thought into their clothes, their makeup, their accessories - Jeongyeon was content simply to roll out of bed and throw on a hoodie and sneakers five minutes before you’d picked her up for her tennis practice. The others were into social media, endorsements from big brands, and what the general public was saying about them in online forums and in the comments - Jeongyeon was more into taking her dogs for walks, volunteering at an animal shelter with her sister, or building lego sets at home.

Moreover, while the others were very much involved in the inter-group rivalry between Nayeon and Chaeyoung - Jeongyeon was more than content to simply watch from afar and let her groupmates battle it out.

“I don’t really have a dog in the fight,” she says, casually, bending to pick up a ball from amongst the dozens on the floor of the private tennis court after you bring up the topic. “Nayeon is one of my best friends, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I think she’s an angel.”

“So knowing what you know about her, it doesn’t swing you over to Chaeyoung’s side?” you ask as you approach her with the bin you were both using to collect the tennis balls. Her tennis instructor had called in sick, and so you’d spent the last couple of hours feeding balls into the automatic serving machine for her to practice her returns.

“No. Like I said, I love Nayeon for who she is. It doesn’t mean I agree with the way she treats Chaeyoung, or for that matter, the way Chaeyoung treats her.”

“Fully neutral, then, huh?”

“Like Switzerland,” she says with a smile and a wink, “unlike you. From those photos it looks like you’re well and truly on Nayeon’s side.”

You sigh as you toss another couple of balls into the bin. The fallout of the leaked photos depicting you and an only half-clothed Nayeon embracing in the hallway of her apartment had been managed relatively well by JYP’s PR department, truth be told. Thankfully none of the photos showed your face, and so JYP staff had put out a statement that you were simply an old family friend who was paying Nayeon a friendly visit. Rumors persisted, but generally it seemed most of the uproar had blown over.

You were fully expecting to be fired from your position as the girls’ pseudo-manager, but it seemed the girls had more than enough pull in the organization to let you keep your job. You wondered if Nayeon or one of the others had stepped in to defend you - you’d have to ask her about it the next time you saw her.

“You know what I was doing there,” you say to Jeongyeon, who has returned to the bin with another armful of tennis balls. She smirks, knowing full well what you meant.

“I’m sure the pussy is great,” she says, nonchalantly. “But you really need to be careful when it comes to getting caught like that. Yes, we’re all women, and yes, women our age are allowed to fuck whoever they want, but given our line of work, we still have to watch out for that kind of thing, you know? It could really hurt our images - and thus our careers.”

“I know. I just think it’s shitty that someone would take those pics with the sole aim of fucking with you girls.”

“Yeah, it’s shitty. I know it’s shitty. The media is shitty, people are shitty. But it comes with the territory.”

“I know. You’re right, Jeongyeon,” you admit. You’d spent little time with Jeongyeon compared to the others, but you’d spent enough time with her to know that she was often the voice of reason in the group. “But in my defense,” you continue, “there was no way I could have known there was paparazzi outside Nayeon and Momo’s apartment, just waiting for the moment to snap a couple of pictures.”

“That’s true,” she replies with a frown. “How did they even get into the building, anyway? It had to have been a resident, or someone let them in.”

“Right? It seems kind of sus that someone would be lurking out in the hallway just waiting for me and Nayeon to run out there.”

The two of you stand there in silence next to the bin of tennis balls, pondering the situation.

“Do you think… it was one of us?” she asks.

The thought that the photographer could have been one of the girls hadn’t occurred to you. But you supposed it was possible that one of the girls who had beef with Nayeon - or at least, was on Chaeyoung’s side, or doing her bidding - could have snapped the photos. Aside from Jeongyeon, who lived with her sister in a separate apartment, all the members lived in the same building, if in different units, so access to that particular hallway wouldn’t have been a problem for any one of them.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” you admit. “Do you think someone snapped those photos and leaked them to start shit with Nayeon?”

“Beats me,” Jeongyeon says with a shrug, although the slight furrow in her brow and the seriousness of her tone hinted at the concern she was hiding behind her casual tone. “Either way, it’s a really shitty thing to do. Nayeon’s been inconsolable. I called her right after the pictures leaked, and she spent an hour just crying on the line. She and Momo and I were supposed to go for dinner yesterday, but the three of us just spent the entire night in her room consoling her. She must’ve thought her career was over.”

Your frown deepens. The last thing you’d wanted was for Nayeon’s career to be affected - especially after she’d spilled her feelings about it to you. You knew what relationship rumors did to an idol’s career.

“Hey, don’t worry about it too much,” Jeongyeon says. “JYP’s got a good PR department. You’ve seen how they’ve handled it. Most of the public seems to have bought the ‘family friend’ story.”

“I suppose,” you agree. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a shitty thing to do. I need to find out who was behind it.”

Jeongyeon nods, but doesn’t say anything further. She gazes blankly at the bin of tennis balls, reaching down and grabbing one before turning it around in her hands.

“You like her, don’t you?” she asks.

Caught a little off guard by her question, you can do little more than mumble a “Who?”

“Nayeon. You have feelings for her. You seem awfully concerned about this whole thing.”

“I’m just her manag-... I mean, I’m just a toy for you girls.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t have feelings for Nayeon, Jeongyeon.”

“So Chaeyoung, then? She was the one who picked you out of the crowd, picked you to be our toy. You’ve spent more time with her than with any of us. I see the way you look at each other.”

You take a moment to compose your answer - and Jeongyeon gives you a sly smirk when you look up at her, as though your silence had told her all she needed to know.

“She must’ve been pretty pissed off about the whole thing, huh?” she asks.

“I think so. I tried to reach out to her after the pics leaked, but she wasn’t having me. She was pretty pissed off.” You left out the details, including the choice names Chaeyoung had for Nayeon. It seemed Chaeyoung was perfectly fine with you sleeping with the other girls - but seeing you and Nayeon sharing a more emotionally intimate moment seemed to have struck a chord with her.

Jeongyeon gives you a short nod, her eyes focused on the ball in her hands. After a moment she tosses it into your chest.

“Alright, that’s enough small talk,” she says with a smile. “Now go set up the machine and serve me another set, ball boy.”

---

Jeongyeon, it appeared, was a breath of fresh air in yet another way.

For the most part, the other girls had been relatively similar in terms of the power dynamic when it came to your more intimate duties. A few had bossed you around - at least initially - while some were more submissive. Some were somewhere in between, or happy to switch between the two poles at will or as the session went on. Either way, you never felt like you weren’t in control of the proceedings whenever you were with any of the girls.

But none were quite like Jeongyeon. It was clear right from the very start who was calling the shots.

You were a little nervous when she’d pulled you into the private, secure shower rooms of the upscale indoor tennis facility; not for fear of getting caught, but rather because you’d never been intimate with her before. Despite having worked with them for months, the stars had never quite aligned and you’d never been alone with her for very long, so the opportunity had never presented itself. You figured she’d be like the other girls, and that she’d pull you into the shower with her, you’d fuck, then you’d both go on your merry way.

But instead she made you wait outside her shower door.

She hadn’t even undressed in front of you - she’d instead tossed her sweaty clothes over the closed shower door for you to pick up. And so you spent the next twenty minutes standing there, awkwardly, her sweaty hoodie and leggings in your hands as she showered - although you did make note of the fact that she wasn’t wearing underwear.

At least the shower door was only partially frosted, and its semi-transparent surface had given you a solid view of her soft, curvy body as she cleaned the afternoon’s worth of sweat off herself. Like the other girls, she had been slim and bordering on underweight when she’d debuted - but growing into adulthood had given her a curvier, fuller, more womanly shape than the other girls. Even through the frosted glass the differences were obvious; the other girls were thin sticks compared to Jeongyeon’s full, womanly shape. It was plain to see in her hips, those round thighs, and her long, luxurious legs.

“Towels please,” she says as she nears the end of her shower, “Two of them.” With more enthusiasm than you were expecting you pick up a couple of the luxurious looking towels from the nearby shelf and pass it to her over the shower door.

You find yourself licking your lips at the sight as you watch her dry herself through the frosted panel. Intentionally or not, she turns her back to you as she bends over to dry her legs - presenting you with the silhouette of her found, firm butt as she does so. You feel your lower lip curl under your front tooth at the sight.

She found you still standing there when she finished up, swinging the shower door open in a rush of hot steam and moist air. She stepped through the fog as if by magic, like some fairy creature emerging from the mists - one towel wrapped tight around her torso, the other around her drying hair.

“Enjoyed the show, did you?” she asks, an alluring smirk on her lips.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit. “You’re kinda gorgeous, I guess.”

The smirk on the young woman’s lips deepens into a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Come on, then.”

You follow her from the showers and into the changing room, which was empty - the facility had been more than willing to shut down the entire place for an idol of Jeongyeon’s caliber, it seemed. She takes a seat on one of the long wooden benches, slipping one long, delicious leg over the other. The towel that was all that kept her decent rides up her legs, revealing more of the flushed, moist skin of her full thighs.

“Alright, you can start.”

Puzzled, you are unsure how to answer. “Uh, what?” you stammer.

“You can get started. Take off your clothes.”

Her forthrightness catches you off guard, and it’s only after locking eyes with her and noticing the sultry look on her features that you slowly begin to remove the zippered hoodie you were wearing.

“So, uh, this is happening, huh?” you ask, as you toss your hoodie onto the bench next to her. You step closer to the young woman, eager to finally get your chance with her.

She stops you with a hand on your belly. Her hand gives you a sharp push - almost a shove - one that sends you stepping backward to your original position.

“Did I fucking tell you to move?” she hisses with a shake of her head, tone sharp, but with that mischievous little smile still on her lips.

“I- I-, uh, sorry, Jeongyeon.”

“I bet you think that this is the part where I get on my knees and suck your dick before you fuck me like you do the other girls, huh?” she asks, casually. “The part where I become a pathetic, mewling little thing that tells you to ‘use me, fuck me, fill me up with cum?’ That may be true with the other girls, but that’s not what’s going to happen here.”

“Oh yeah?” you answer, as you begin to undo your belt. You find your own smile appearing at the corners of your lips - this assertiveness was new and exciting, and something you hadn’t found in the other girls. “Then what will happen here, Jeongyeon?”

“You’re going to strip, first,” she answers, “so I can see exactly what the other girls have been going so crazy over. Then you’re going to do exactly what I say.”

It doesn’t take much more motivation for you to follow her orders, and soon your t-shirt, pants, and boxers have joined your hoodie on the bench next to her. Throughout it all you watch Jeongyeon’s eyes drink in your body as you remove each article of clothing. More than once you catch a slick pink tongue gliding over soft pink lips, but for the most part she retains her composure, legs still crossed, hands folded atop her knees as she watches you undress.

Soon you are standing there, fully naked, hands on your hips. Between your legs, your half-stiff cock begins to stir - and it gives you a good measure of pride to watch a look of approval wash over Jeongyeon’s features.

“Well, now I see why the girls love you so much. Tell me,” she begins, leaning over her knees and bringing an index finger to her chin and lips, head bent to the side slightly and eyes fixed on your cock, as though she were admiring a display in a gallery. “Which of the girls are the subby ones?”

You certainly weren’t expecting to be interrogated while naked, but you are happy to let Jeongyeon set the pace. “It kind of depends. They all have their moments. Dahyun, Sana, Mina… I suppose they’re the most subby.”

“Interesting. And the others are doms?”

“It depends. Like I said, sometimes the girls switch between them.”

“Ah,” she says, looking and sounding for all the world like she were having a conversation over a museum piece and not discussing the sexual preferences of her group mates. “And what do you think I am?”

You lock eyes with her, and for the first time you find sheer, unfiltered hunger in those deep brown pools.

“I think… I think you like being in control, Jeongyeon.”

“That’s right,” she says, a satisfied look on her features as she leans backwards slightly on the bench. “And don’t you forget it.”

Her right hand reaches for the towel wrapped around her torso, and with an agonizingly slow flick of her wrist she slips the moist fabric from her body, dropping the towel on the floor next to her. Shortly thereafter the towel wrapped around her head joins it, letting her short chocolate-brown hair fall in a slick, wet tumble around her small face.

You have only a moment to appreciate the young woman’s naked body before she uncrosses her legs and spreads them widely, her flushed, full thighs parting to reveal the soft pink flesh between them.

Jeongyeon slides a hand above her mound, the tips of her fingers playing idly with the slick flesh of her slit. 

“Come on, then, ball boy,” she says, her voice utterly dripping now with a kind of seduction and temptation that none of the other girls could hope to imitate. “Come show me what your mouth can do.”

Your body moves of its own accord, almost involuntarily, closing the distance between you and the gorgeous young woman atop the bench. Your eyes soak in the sight of her - full breasts, wide hips, thick, flushed thighs - and you wonder just how you managed to last this long without having her.

You go to your knees between Jeongyeon’s, reaching out with your hands to cup her spread thighs from beneath. You hear the slightest, faintest gasp escape her lips as you make intimate skin contact with her for the first time - but the gasp disappears quickly and turns into a soft coo as you bend your upper body to begin placing soft kisses on the warm skin of her inner thighs.

Going down on the girls was something you’d admittedly had little practice with - they’d either been more than willing to perform oral on you, or skip it altogether and get right to the main course - and so you were determined to savor every moment of this opportunity with Jeongyeon. Not only was her dominating, in-control nature refreshing; it was also a chance to satiate an inner need to feel a woman’s most intimate parts on your tongue.

With this in mind you take your time, savoring the touch and taste of Jeongyeon’s warm, soft thighs beneath your lips. She lets little sighs and coos of satisfaction leave her lips with every kiss you make, the soft sounds echoing off the tiles of the empty changing room. Just before you reach her pussy you switch to her other thigh, starting halfway up and re-starting the slow approach to her slit - eliciting a sigh of frustration from the young woman.

“Such a fucking tease,” she says, half-hiss, half-sigh. “I bet you get all the other girls hot and bothered doing this, huh?”

You smirk in reply as you take a glance at her pussy, mere inches from your face. Perfect pink lips, shaved bare, already glistening.

“I think you’re getting all hot and bothered yourself.”

Jeongyeon blushes, but returns your smirk. “I think you should do something about it, then.”

“I dunno,” you say, your lips curling into a smile even as you continue to plant kisses on her inner thigh. “I kind of like getting you all hot and bothered.”

Her response to your snarky little comment is immediate - a hand in your hair, pulling your head up violently by your scalp to face her.

“If you don’t shut up and put your tongue on my pussy, you won’t be getting the chance to put anything else in there.”

You are equal parts frightened and aroused by the challenge you see in her eyes - to say nothing of the painful grip she had on your hair. You give her the slightest of nods, and seemingly satisfied that you’d learned your place, she pulls your head down towards her crotch.

Suitably chastised but equally turned on by her forcefulness, you dive into Jeongyeon’s folds, giving her a long, slow lick from the bottom of her opening to the top, adding in a slight swirl of the tip of your tongue around the bud of her clit. The sound that leaves her mouth is one you want to record and play back over and over - long and low and soft, a sigh of satisfaction and pleasure and release all rolled up into one perfect melody.

You savor her taste on your palate as you dive into her body once again, giving her long slow licks, lapping up her juices, savoring the imprints of her taste and smell and sound on your senses. She tastes like no other woman, slick and moist, tangy and sweet. 

“Fuck yes,” she hisses, the words leaving her mouth with no small amount of satisfaction, mirrored in part by the tightening of her grip on the back your head. “That’s right. That feels so good. Eat my pussy like a good little boy.”

Her chosen pet name for you lit something inside you - something you hoped would ignite into flame later on.

For now you content yourself with devouring her body, relishing the feel of her writhing and squirming beneath your tongue. You grasp her hips with your hands, and she involuntarily wraps her legs around your shoulders, trapping your head between her full, warm thighs, wrapping your face with her soft flesh. It is warm and wet and sticky and there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather have been, and with no other woman.

You spend a long couple of minutes there, trapped between Jeongyeon’s thighs, devouring the young woman’s dripping cunt, lapping up every drop of her freely flowing juices, savoring the taste of her body on your tongue.

After awhile it becomes almost suffocating between her thighs, and as happy as you might have been to have had your obituary read ‘suffocated to death by Yoo Jeongyeon’s thighs’ they were closing a little too tightly around your head, and keeping you from doing what you wanted - which was swirling your tongue around her needy little clit. It earns you a sigh of frustration when you reach up with your hands and part her full thighs, but you make up for it by using your newfound freedom to close your lips around her clit and using the tip of your tongue to begin swirling random patterns around it.

Jeongyeon is past sighing and cooing now, and fully into moaning her pleasure into the empty changing room. But even her moans are different - the other girls were happy to let out sheer unfiltered moans of pleasure, but Jeongyeon’s were controlled, measured, with a hint of satisfaction and gratification in them, as though she were actively obtaining pleasure instead of simply receiving it.

Whatever she felt, you were content to let her vocalize her pleasure in whatever way suited her - the pleasured, delightful moans bouncing off the tiles and walls of the changing room filled your ears, made it seem like she were everywhere around you, moaning her pleasure directly into your brain.

It’s when you slip a hand from her thighs and slide a finger against her entrance that her moans reach another peak - one she shatters when you slide your index and middle fingers, slowly but steadily, inside her.

“Fuck!” she snaps, her mouth opening and freezing in an open “O” as your fingers penetrate her for the first time, easily sliding inside her wet, slick pussy to find that rough, textured patch at the front wall of her opening. She only manages to resume her moans when you begin to scratch the patch with soft strokes, using the very tip of your fingers to tease it, back and forth, your tongue on her clit and free hand on her hip the only thing keeping her hips and butt from wriggling right off the table.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck--” she continues in between moans, “Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum all over your fucking mouth fuck I’m cumming-”

It doesn’t take long. Not with what you were doing to her body. Soon the slur of profanity and moans leaving her mouth cut out, her body goes rigid, and the fingernails digging furrows into your scalp send spikes of pain into your brain as her grip on your head tightens involuntarily.

She orgasms under your tongue, and a flush of her slick, warm juices squirts onto your chin before you open your mouth enough to drink it all in.

Yoo Jeongyeon was a squirter.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” she swears as her body is wracked with pleasure, still twitching and squirming beneath your tongue and hands as she finishes squirting on your face, leaving your mouth and jaws slick with her wetness. While her orgasm is still coursing through her veins you wrap your mouth around her clit, your tongue resuming its swirls around her bud, albeit at a slightly slower pace, ensuring that you weren’t overstimulating her. Inside her your fingers - despite being almost crushed by the pulsating tightness of her walls - remain unmoving, content simply to fill her, a prelude to what you hoped would fill her next.

“Oh god,” she says, one last time. Your mouth leaves her clit and your fingers slowly slide out of her, earning one last whimper of pleasure from the young woman. “Fuck, damn, no one’s ever made me do that before.”

You don’t quite know what to say to that confession, and so as you lick her juices from your fingers, swirl them around your tongue and swallow them, you answer the only way you know how: “Fuck, you taste so fucking good, Jeongyeon.”

“Yeah?” she says, breathlessly.

“Fuck yeah. I could eat you all day.”

A wicked grin appears on her lips, and she reaches up and grasps your sore scalp with a hand before crushing your lips with hers. Her tongue slides eagerly into your mouth, and you can feel her lips curl into a smile as she tastes herself on you.

She ends the short but passionate kiss - and you notice a hunger, a need in her eyes that you hadn’t thought the casual, aloof young woman was capable of. It lasts only a moment, before she returns to kissing you, giving you a soft kiss on the lips before bringing her lips, stained with her own juices, to your ear.

“You like how mommy tastes?”

There were a few moments over the months you’d spent with the girls that you’d call sexual awakenings - the growing occurrence of group sex, given the sheer number of girls you were tasked with pleasuring, was one thing. Your first experience with multiple penetration and taking all three of a woman’s holes in a single evening were others. But this - Yoo Jeongyeon awakening your fucking mommy kink - this was somewhere near the top of that list.

“Fuck yes, mommy,” you hiss, the words spilling from your mouth involuntarily in a rushed slur, as though your body wanted to react long before its brain could formulate a proper fucking sentence.

Jeongyeon leaves your ear to stare you in the eyes, her face only a few inches away from yours.

“Good,” she says, cheeks flushed, a sultry smile on her lips. “Come sit on the floor for mommy, now. I’ll show you how mommy fucks.”

Once again your body seems to move of its own accord, quickly taking a seat down on the cold tile of the changing room, leaning back and keeping yourself upright with your hands behind you. Jeongyeon rises from the bench, taking a moment to stand over you, relishing the hungry look in your eyes as you take in the sight of her naked body from head to toe. You lick your lips, still tasting her juices in your mouth - you couldn’t remember the last time you were so eager to be inside a woman, which was significant considering the experiences you’d had over the last few months.

Jeongyeon straddles you on the floor, her full, warm thighs on either side of your hips, her knees on the tile. She reaches down between you, grasping your needy, sensitive shaft with her long, thin fingers. She brings your tip to her drenched folds, dragging it up and down between her slick lips, lathering your head with her freely flowing juices.

“Mmmm,” she purrs. “You really want to be inside mommy’s pussy, don’t you?”

“Fuck yes, mommy please,” you reply, caring little for the desperation that was evident in your tone.

“Good. Because mommy’s going to fuck you until you fill her cunt with your cum. Can you do that for me? Can my little boy fill me with his cum?”

“Fuck, yes, Jeong- mommy, mommy please.”

You expect a reply, one last snarky, teasing comment - but there is only a deepening of the smirk on her lips before Yoo Jeongyeon dips her hips and takes you inside her.

“Fucking hell,” you swear as you fill her for the first time. She was so wet, so very, very wet - more so than the other girls. Wet and hot, like your cock was being enveloped by a slick, moist heat from all directions.

“Mmmm, you’re so big inside mommy,” Jeongyeon sighs as she impales herself on your cock to the base. From this position your face was level with her upper chest, and she captures your face with her palms on your cheeks before turning it upward to face her own. “You’re stretching out mommy’s pussy so good, filling her up so well. Are you ready for mommy to fuck you, baby boy? Are you ready to be a good little cock for mommy to ride until she cums all over you?”

“Oh god, oh god yes,” you spit, the words as much a plead as they were a declaration of your state of readiness and eagerness.

Eyes still locked on yours, Jeongyeon begins to ride you - and you soon find your eyes closing involuntarily as the pleasure overtakes your senses.

Her pussy would have been enough - that hot, wet tightness would have been all you needed to cruise to an quick and easy orgasm - but Jeongyeon was so much more than that. There was her body, so feminine and curvy and womanly; there was her motherly, protective nature combined with a casual easygoing-ness that made it easy to fall in love with her; and now there was the newfound kink she’d just awoken in you - one that you hadn’t known had been there all along, just waiting for the right woman to unlock it.

And beyond all that she was clearly very skilled with it came to riding you - the way she rolled her hips, the way she grinded her pussy against your crotch in circular motions, the way she squeezed her walls against your shaft with every entry only to release on the exit and repeat it over and over and over again - this was a woman who knew what she was doing. This was a woman who was in control.

You force your eyes open to watch her face as she rides you. Head cast back slightly, eyes shut, mouth slightly ajar, a soft tumble of sighs and moans leaving her lips with every entry and exit into her body - she was a sight to see. But she never seemed like she was losing control of herself, or being overwhelmed by the sensations flowing through her veins. This was a woman actively finding her own pleasure at a pace and speed that she was comfortable with, instead of simply taking the pleasure being forced upon her body like the other girls.

As if sensing your eyes on hers she opens them, leaves them half-lidded, looking down on you from above with power and command. 

“Does that feel good, baby boy? Do you like the feel of mommy’s cunt wrapped around your cock?” she hisses, her calm, measured tone only slightly compromised by the pleasure in her veins and the movements of her body.

“Yes, mommy. Mommy feels so good.”

“Mmmm,” she coos, a tender smile on her lips. “You feel so good inside me. You make mommy feel so full!”

Your eyes wander - down her long, graceful neck, and onto the full, round mounds of her breasts. Your mouth follows your gaze, and before you know it you are reaching up with one hand to cup one full mound, capturing her taut nipple between an index finger and your thumb before latching onto it with your mouth and sucking.

Jeongyeon yelps when you begin to suckle from her - a yelp that turns into a small giggle, as though your mouth on her breasts was something that brought her intense happiness. The giggles are only temporary, however, turning back into moans and cries that reach a new volume as you take your fill of her chest, sucking from one nipple while squeezing and pinching and twisting the other.

Her riding increases in pace, her pussy a sloppy wet mess now as she somehow becomes even wetter than she already was. Throughout it all she remains tight and hot around you as she takes you in and out of her body, your mouth and fingers latched onto her breasts all the while. Eventually she tears your mouth from her chest with her hands latched tightly around your cheeks, pointing your face towards hers.

For a few long moments she rides you, your face cradled in her hands and her eyes locked on yours. You watch as her eyelids twitch, watch as they close halfway, watch every little movement of her face and features as she continues to ride your cock on the shower room floor.

You would have wanted to take things slowly, wanted to relish every entry and exit made by the beautiful woman on your cock. You would have wanted to relish the sight of sweat dripping long slick trails down her body, and the taste of it when you licked it off her flushed skin. Jeongyeon was like nothing and no one else, and you wanted to savor the moment.

But what you wanted didn’t matter. Only her pleasure did, and she was in control, not you. And the fact that your orgasm was approaching faster than you would’ve liked didn’t matter to her. Only her own orgasm did.

“You’re gonna make mommy cum,” she hisses between gritted teeth as she struggles to maintain her composure amidst the waves of pleasure emanating from her crotch with every bounce on your cock. “Do you… oh god yes… do you… do you want mommy to cum on your cock?”

“Yes please, Jeongyeon. Please cum, mommy!”

“Will you… will you cum too, baby boy? Will you fill mommy’s tight wet little cunt with your cum?”

“Yes, Jeongyeon, mommy, please, please, please cum for me-”

“Oh god, fuck I’m cumming-”

She does - and she crushes your face against her sweat-slick, flushed chest as she does so. You bury your face in her cleavage and you wouldn’t have given a damn if you’d never emerged from those warm soft depths, wouldn’t’ve have cared if they’d had to peel your dead body from between Jeongyeon’s tits.

All that matters is her, and her tight, pulsating cunt around your cock and the way it milked your orgasming shaft of every drop of cum you had. You feel each pulse, each twitch of your cock as it sends spurt after spurt of thick, hot semen into Jeongyeon’s needy little pussy, filling her cunt with cum, filling it with you.

You weren’t quite sure how much time you spent there, in that warm, wet little slice of heaven that you’d found between Jeongyeon’s breasts. But when your face finally emerges from her chest and you look up at her you find her looking at you with the warmest, most caring smile you’d ever seen in your life. It was beautiful, soft, almost maternal.

She strokes your hair gently, running her fingers through the sweaty strands, the softness of her touch somehow taking away the painful soreness she’d left there when she was gripping your scalp earlier. She wraps her arms around your head, bringing your face back into her upper chest. 

She grinds her crotch against yours, causing your still-stiff shaft inside her to move, her every movement making soft, slick sounds as your combined juices slur about inside her body. Throughout it all she continues to stroke your hair, planting short, soft kisses on the top of your head.

“Your cum feels so good inside mommy,” she says, softly.

You feel your own arms wrap around her, your arms tight against her sweaty back as she continues to fuck her cum-filled pussy on your cock. You close your eyes, savoring the intense feeling of warmth and safety Yoo Jeongyeon had provided you.

---

It took another few hours before Jeongyeon arrived at the apartment she shared with her sister - your little session with her on the changing room floor had, of course, necessitated another quick shower so she could at least look presentable on the way home. 

She quickly and easily slipped back into the casual, easygoing and aloof persona that you’d normally associated with her, and she made for a fun and easy conversation partner as you drove her home. She made a nice change of pace from the usual small talk you shared with the girls, and you found yourself hoping you’d be spending more time with her in the near future.

She was more than a little surprised to find that she had a guest waiting for her in her bedroom.

“Your sister let me in,” Nayeon says as Jeongyeon steps into the room.

“I see you’re miraculously doing better,” Jeongyeon replies, a slight edge in her voice as she drops her tennis racket and duffel bag in a corner of the room.

“I am. I’m not sure if you know, but I've been through quite a traumatic experience recently. Pics of me and my secret lover were leaked all over the internet,” Nayeon replies, making no attempt to hide the sarcasm in her tone.

Jeongyeon frowns and lets a breath out from her nose, but says nothing in response.

Nayeon saunters around the room, stopping in front of the dressing table and the high-end DSLR camera atop it. She lets her fingers trace little patterns atop its knobs and dials, a smug smile on her perfect lips.

“Did you fuck him?”

“Yes,” Jeongyeon replies.

“Did he cum in you?”

“Yes.”

Nayeon lets a small smile appear at the corners of her lips.

“Nayeon-”

“Yes?” the older woman asks, sharply, turning for the first time to face her friend.

“Nayeon,” Jeongyeon repeats, “I… I don’t want to help you with this anymore.”

Nayeon scoffs, letting a sharp breath escape her lips. She crosses her arms and leans back, resting her butt on the dressing table.

“So you fuck him once and suddenly you don’t want to help me?”

“That’s not true,” Jeongyeon states, although she can already feel her resolve weakening. She couldn’t even look at Nayeon, and she settles instead for awkwardly playing with her hands. No one else did this to her. No one else could turn her into a defenseless loser. Only she could. Only Nayeon.

“So what is it?”

Silence reigns for a moment as Jeongyeon considers her answer. The seconds pass like hours. Jeongyeon hazards a glance at her older friend’s eyes, but Nayeon’s features are stone cold, and she finds little comfort in those dark pools.

“I’ve been thinking bout it, Nayeon. And…”

“-And?”

“It’s not fair,” Jeongyeon states, although it takes all of the conviction she had left in her to say it. Nayeon had a way of breaking her down, tearing down her resolve, no matter how prepared she thought she was. “It’s not fair to him.”

Nayeon lets her eyes roll.

“I understand you have beef with Chaeyoung,” Jeongyeon continues, summoning up what was left of her courage. “But… but he has nothing to do with it. He’s just a guy doing a job. We don’t need to ruin his life just so you can piss Chaeyoung off. I don’t want to help you with this anymore. If you want to keep on starting shit with Chaeyoung then you can go ahead, just leave me and him the fuck out of it.”

Nayeon returns her gaze to Jeongyeon, who can hold it for only a moment before she has to look away. She lets a sigh escape her lips before leaving the dressing table and approaching Jeongyeon.

“Hey, hey,” she says, softly, her tone suddenly apologetic now as she reaches up to caress Jeongyeon’s cheek. “Okay. I won’t involve him anymore. Him, or you. Will that make you happy?”

Jeongyeon doesn’t answer, closing her eyes, doing her best to ignore the softness of Nayeon’s palm against her cheek. Nayeon’s touch was her weakness - had always been her weakness. It hurt her to know how sharply she’d fallen from being the one in control mere minutes before, when she was with him, to being so very weak and helpless with her.

“You’ve already done your part, anyway,” Nayeon says, her tone soft and low, as though she were comforting a hurt child. “He… doesn’t suspect you were involved, does he?”

Jeongyeon shakes her head in Nayeon’s palm.

“And he still believes it was one of the other girls that took the photos?”

Jeongyeon nods.

“Good,” Nayeon says. “Then your part is done - I’m sure those pics have convinced Chaeyoung who really owns her toy. I’ll take it from here. You’re still going to be moving back in with Momo and I, right?”

Jeongyeon gives her the slightest of nods.

“Good.”

Nayeon’s palm on her cheek turns Jeongyeon to face her. The older girl’s free hand wraps itself around Jeongyeon’s waist. Jeongyeon wants to fight it, wants to push her hands away and tell the older girl to leave, but she is too soft, and too beautiful, and too Nayeon. 

And so when Nayeon leans up to kiss her, Jeongyeon can do nothing to stop it. Even as the kiss deepens, even as Nayeon’s tongue slides into her mouth, she can do nothing. She is frozen, powerless, defenseless - a far cry from the dominating, controlling woman she was in the changing room earlier that day.

Nayeon breaks the kiss before her hand drifts to Jeongyeon’s, and she slowly pulls her towards the waiting bed. Once she reaches it she pulls her hoodie over her head and pulls her sweatpants down her long legs - leaving her naked. She makes a show of crawling onto Jeongyeon’s bed on all fours, relishing the feel of her friend’s eyes taking in every movement of her body.

She pats the bed next to her, beckoning her friend to join her.

“Now then,” Nayeon begins. “Do you need me to clean his filthy cum out of your pussy, mommy?”

Jeongyeon sighs, powerless. 

---

Author’s Note:

Locke: “Toy is a PWP series”

Also Locke:

[aniovandoblog]

One shot

Synopsis:If you knew something about someone that would make everyone treat them differently, would you tell them?

It was a beautiful summer day Good king was together with Pinocchio in the open sea. The last weeks of summer were coming and I was taking advantage of these days for a well-deserved break. The first few weeks had been full of real events and homework. They would have come with their daughters but Cedar had a new doll’s house, so the girls were more excited and entertained in the new acquisition than in going out to the high seas, luckily Geppeto was more than willing to take care of both girls. So the 2 men were waiting to catch something.

Listen, it was the summer Olympic Games, your country won a gold medal in equestrian. Congratulations,” said Pinocchio.

_Oh yes we are really happy and proud. It was an honor to have seen it live_

The Olympics were one of the most important sporting events. Where all royalty gathered. All the kingdoms participated in different sports disciplines.

-Do you know who I met in the games?-

_To whom? _

_Charming-

_Which of them all? You have to be more specific _

_Dag Charming, I crossed it in a tennis game. They were together with his wife and children._

_MM I haven’t heard from him since we finished high school. Not counting magazines and newspapers. Obviously _ in previous years they had shared a friendship but for things in life they had distanced themselves _ Did they talk? _

_Not really. You know Charming can be... distant_

They talked a little more about the Olympics and the athletes or some news. Finally they simply remained silent enjoying the sound of the wind

_Pinocchio, can I ask you a question? _Seriously.

Of course? _

_What would you do if in a hypothetical situation and I want to emphasize in a hypothetical situation you knew something about someone that would make people treat him differently? _

_So a person did something, and are you the only one who knows? _

_It’s not so much what he did but what he’s going to do or what he’s expected to do_

-I have to ask. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? _Without understanding very well where his friend was trying to go_

_It depends on who you ask,_he said with little annoyance.

_Rick, I don’t understand where you want to go with this. You should stop spinning and be clearer._

_Well, what I’m going to say is a... hunched and I have no proof of what I’m going to say. Clearly I don’t have the absolute truth._

_Friend, you’re divering_

Then the king gave a long sigh.

_It’s about the Charmings about one of their children to be more exact. _

_They are really lovely children_

_They have to be it is their last name _

They both laughed a little at the joke.

_When I saw that boy. I had a thought, hunched... I don’t know what word to use, I just know that when I saw it I knew immediately that it was ... my successor_

_Successor?_

_The boy will have my legacy. Raven has her mother’s, so it means that_

_Someone has to be the next Good king,_Pinocchio said.

_And now I’m in this dilemma of telling him or not_

_I’ve always believed that going with the truth is the best way._

_Yes, but when people know what your destiny will be, they treat you differently. Stop being you. I see him with Raven all the damn time-_ he said a little fed up and anguished_ She is recive bullying at school., she ignored by groups of girls, away from any social event, because they only see a future villain or an evil queen, and it doesn’t matter that she’s not like that. I lost count of the times I’ve had to comfort. He has that load on his back and I can’t do anything. And how do you think they will treat the boy who is destined to be her future husband? That is, half of the world thinks that I am a loser that is easy to manipulate, and the other half an evil and cruel man who wears a mask of kindness. As an adult I can stand that, I have the necessary tools and wisdom. But a boy about 10 or 11 years old, shouldn’t go through this _

Many times Pinocchio forgot who King was supposed to be, destined to marry the greatest evil of fairy tales. For him he was only his best friend, they shared lunches of delicious pasta or Fish and chips, the man with whom all the last weeks of the summer they made a trip together, who always sent a Christmas or birthday gift for Cedar. The man who, when his father had had to perform an operation, had insisted on covering the expenses that exceeded the former puppet. Raven, for her part, was the sweet girl from the first moment she and Cedar met, they became inseparable friends. But the reality is that the man had a destiny, he had already accomplished it, but as it was had to continue with the stories. Someone had to play that character.

_You are a great person, you are a king, your people adore you, you have a beautiful daughter. You are a good friend, a good father, a good king. Finally, everything went pretty well._

_Yes, but it’s a Charming. His idea of a happy ending or dream life is nothing of what I am or can be in the future _Good was fine with his life, but he knew perfectly well that no Charming would be happy that his son had that destiny, and especially Dag Charming. Who always sought glory and expected the same for his children.

Pinocchio knew that his friend was right and at this moment he already understood why he was in doubt to tell it.

_And his older brother, the next prince in the story of Snow White? I don’t want to imagine how that relationship would change, I saw them play together, joke like simple brothers. The news may create cracks in that relationship and I don’t have the heart to ruin that._

_They will find out sooner or later. Are you aware of that? _

_Of course I do. But he's young and he has the right to grow up and for people to only see him and not who he'll become. Because the hope that he'll have a happy ending is a beautiful thing that everyone should experience. No. I'm going to take that away. I'm not going to tell Dexter that his destiny is to be the next good king._

Author's note: I came up with it last night, it's a bit short and needs polishing, but what do you think?

[game-set-canet]

Just wanted to say love your recent Carlos nothing is moreimportant than Wimbledon fluff was soooo good.

Could I request an Andrey one where he and the reader are forced to play mixed doubles by their coaches but the end up having a good time

But now we're stressed out

Pairing: Andrey Rublev x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: this imagine turned out way different than i intended but i hope you like it as much is i do 💕 also: English isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

“I’ve found the perfect double partner for you!”, your coach Albert smiles at you proudly.

You raise an eyebrow while you continue sipping at your morning coffee: “Who?”

You and your team were sitting in the eating room of the hotel, enjoying the breakfast buffet.

Albert sits down next to you and starts eating his muesli: “Andrey Rublev!”

“Andrey Rublev?”, you pull a face and shake your head, “Why?”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t remember a single time we have actually talked with each other.”

“Doesn’t matter!”, your coach smiles at you encouraging, “You’ll have plenty of time to talk before today’s practise session this afternoon!”

“Today?”, you put down your mug and frown, “But I have an interview in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, we will practise afterwards.” Albert looks really happy and actually pleased with everything he organised and decided.

You try to sound as neutral as possible but can’t hide the frustration: “I don’t want to play doubles with him. I just want to play with Jessica.”

“Pegula is injured, and Andrey is the right choice for your double partner. You will agree with me as soon as you spend some time with him on court.”

You roll your eyes: “Just because you are best friend with Fernando Vicente doesn’t mean Rublev and I have to be best friends as well.”, you finish your coffee and get up from the breakfast table, “Gotta go now, I have a photoshoot in 30 minutes.”

 “I’m your coach and I know what’s best for you!”, Albert tries to sound serious but everyone on the table could tell that he is joking.

“You sound like my father!”

“See you in the afternoon, daughter!”

You can still hear him laughing when you have already left the room.

Little do you know that Andrey and his coaches had a very similar conversation on the other side of the breakfast room.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Later this day you find yourself on the tennis court. Your coach is talking animatedly with Andrey's coach, every now and then one of the men laughs out loud. You tie your shoes while Andrey puts on his hair band - there is silence between you.

You sigh. It’s ridiculous that you don’t talk to each other but as far as you know, Andrey isn’t very good at small talk – just like you.

You clear your throat and play with the racket in your hands: “I was supposed to double with Jessica Pegula, but she is injured, you know?”

It takes a few moments before Andrey finally answers, voice low: “Yeah, same for me…I planned to double with Karen Khachanov.”

Without thinking twice you blur out: “Seems like both of us aren’t very happy with the decision of your coaches, huh?”

At first Andrey just looks at you with a strange expression, but then he starts grinning wryly and shrugs: “I guess.”

One hour later you have to admit that your coach might be right: Andrey is a great double partner. And that you complement each other quite well. And – and that’s something you will never say out loud – it’s actually great fun to practise with him.

At the end of the practise your coaches and the rest of your teams stand in a circle and your coach looks back and forth between Andrey and you: “So, what do you say? Do we have a mixed double pair?”

Andrey looks at you from the corner of his eyes, biting his lip as he waits for you to take the final decision.

You take a deep breath and nod slowly: “Yeah, I think this could work.”

“Great! Good practise! See you two tomorrow - same time, same court”, Andrey’s coach gives a thumbs-up, waves at everyone and turns to leave the court, “Let’s win this tournament!”

You turn to face Andrey and nod towards to his coach: “Uhm, does he really think we gonna win this tournament? As a new double pair? After one hour of practice?”

Andrey sighs deeply: “Yes, he does.”

“Is he always like that?”

“Yes, he is.”

“My condolence.”

The Russian starts laughing because of your words, and you join him shortly after.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

You just finished your practise session with Maria Sakkari and decided to spend some time in the gym, when someone stepped next to you and begun training on the ergometer on your right. You turn your head and see Andrey getting ready for his first cycling set – already with earphone in the ears. You smile a little and wave at him and he waved back. That was the greeting.

Fifteen minutes later you got bored with your training and your own music, so you stretch to tap Andrey on the left shoulder. You wait until he removed one of the earphones before you start speaking: “What are you listening to?”

Without a word, Andrey holds his phone out to you so that you can see the title of the song.

You stare at the display with big eyes, grab your phone and you're now holding it out for Andrey.

He blinks in surprise before he starts smiling: “So, we have the same taste in music? You like Twenty One Pilots?”, he quickly removes the second earphone.

You nod your head vigorously: “I love them! I’ve seen them live three times already!”

You have never seen Andrey so radiant as he exclaims: “Me too!”

“Oh, that’s so cool! What else do you listen to?”

“Linkin Park and Avicii…”

“Oh my god, me too!”

For the next 20 minutes you two were lost in a conversation about your favourite songs, your favourite albums and Andrey even started the “What is the most beautiful cover you can think of?” debate.  

*** *** *** *** *** ***

After only two more practice sessions it’s the day of your first match. You are waiting in the tunnel to be called up for the walk on court.

You shift your weight from one leg to the other: “Do you think we can win this match?”

Andrey bits his lip while fumbling with his headband: “No, no change at all.”

You spend a lot of time with Andrey during the last few days – on and off the court – and if you are honest: he is a really great guy. But sometimes he is way too pessimistic.

You chuckle a little and shake your head: “That’s the wrong answer, Rublev, try again!”

He rolls his eyes but grins: “Fine. I think we won’t be as bad as I – and everyone else - expect us to be.”

“Wow. You must be the hit at every party…”, your words drip with sarcasm.

“I’m, actually.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that.”

“That’s because you have never seen me partying.”, Andrey turns his head to look at you, “A friend of mine is celebrating his birthday on Sunday in a club near our hotel…you should come too.”

You smile to yourself as you follow Andrey on the court.

Maybe you will accept his invitation.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Two and a half hours later you feel Andrey hugging you from behind. You just played the perfect stop for the match ball.

You really won your double match.

“We won it!”, you can’t stop beaming as you look at him, “We won it!”

“Yeah, we did. Like I said!”, he hangs an arm around your shoulders.

“You said that we won’t be as bad as you – and everyone else - expect us to be?!”

“Yes, and I’m right. Everyone expected us to lose but we won it, sooo…”, he grins at you.

You poke him in the side with your elbow: “My god, I can’t believe I actually like you and like spending time with you.”

Andrey looks a bit surprise because of your words and runs his hand through his hair with a smooth gesture: “You do?”

“Of course! I think we are a good team and-“, you hesitate and look him directly in the eyes, “And we have great fun, don’t we?”

“Yes, we have.”, he agrees and tightens the grip around your shoulder, “And? Will you join me and my friends on Sunday?”

“I’d love to.”, you smile at him.

He returns the smile and tilts the head: “I'm very happy to hear that.”

*** *** *** *** *** ***

One year later you two are at the exact same court playing doubles again.

“Who would have thought, hm?”, you lean against Andrey’s shoulder as you wait for your walk on court, “We’re still playing doubles together.”

The Russian sighs softly and adjusts his headband: “And I still don’t think we gonna win this match.”

“That’s ok.”, you smile at him, “Because I think we won’t be as bad as you – and everyone else - expect us to be.”

Lost in thought, you look out over the court, “Isn't it crazy how everything has changed since then?”

Andrey raises an eyebrow but the corners of his mouth twitch: “Are you getting sentimental now?”

“Excuse me for getting a bit emotional when coming back to the place where it all started and where I fell in love with my boyfriend.”, you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Technically it all started in the club at the birthday party of my friend.”

“No, it actually started right here in this tunnel, where I kissed you after our final loss.”

Andrey steps closer to you and bends down, his face only centimetre aways from yours: “I say, we repeat this…”

“What?”, you reply teasingly, “Winning every double match but losing the final?”

“I meant our kiss.”

“I know.”

He chuckles softly before he slides his arms around your waist and kisses you.

You smile against his lips. Your coach was right back then: he found the right double partner for you – on the court and off the court.

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

[chiyeko-kurea]

white girl rant

mc tavish scottish accent i hate mini doorways i can’t see if someones comin in until they’re in the middle of my room like jeez stop giving me anxiety i love when i wake up and my dog is on my bed. i know it’s because im the only one who allows her to sleep on my bed but i like to think that in the middle of the night her brain just thought of me and went ‘i wanna go sleep next to her’ i know it’s not the case she’s just bored of sleeping on the hard floor yet she always falls alseep in my sister’s bedroom she prefers to go there just to be beside her oh my god the only thing that makes her finally go in my room is discomfort. but when she wakes up she asks for cuddles and to be pet a bit and i like to imagine she’s my dog only and she’s mine and she gets me and she’s not my freaking dad’s favorite daughter. and she prefers my dad he made me so upset today i cried and i felt ashamed and like a loser because i asked him several times to sign me up to a tennis class to try it out and he did and then i panicked so much i couldn’t do it because i dont want to be alone with a man but then it was gonna be a woman days later so i said yay but the days flew by and i realized to matter who i can never find what to say and im awkward and ugly and my whole lower face skin is peeling away and my teeth are fucked up and my chin skin is flayed raw and bright bloody red and i have acne and dark circles and an embarrassing smile and i can’t play tennis for shit. for. shit. so i acted all moody teenager and i thought my dad was gonna be like you know what it’s fine if you dont wanna do it i don’t get why you changed your mind but that’s okay i’ll just cancel it. he didn’t. he was aggressive and mean and purposely shamed me in front of the family and reminded very loudly the price even though he didn’t even paid yet and my sister had to go for me and i sat there watching her be so extraverted and comfortable with a stranger when i know i wouldn’t have been able to say a word that didn’t sounded weird and wanting to cry every second and burst in tears and my dad was so so mean and usually he gets me, and my sister saved me and went i got home i burst into tears in my room and he just wanted me to try a new thing and i just wanted to cut cut cut and why on earth am i this fucking awkward loser with my earphones in and too big black hoodie like im some kind of pseudo rebellious annoying emo kid i just want to be pretty and funny and shine like why do i the worse part is i kind of really wanted to try tennis. and i think i would’ve been good. i think would not have made a total fool of myself thing is whatever i do i am a fool anyway, i am a fool for even thinking for one day of my goddamn life i could have not ruined everything. my dad looked at me weirdly the rest of the evening and i wanted to yell maybe im reminding you of your loser son you lost to drugs no shocker we get along i also want to lose myself and you saw my scars you know there’s something wrong with me and there’s something wrong with him and with you and with all of us and wherever your blood is. i like my dad, he’s a good father but at the end of the day he’s a man, and not a better one than the others. if i have good grades and a pretty face let me tell you there is NOTHING you can complain of me. i am working on my appearance to be prettier to not embarrass you anymore but one day you will have nothing to complain about and i will do whatever i want and you will try to say what changed and i will say it’s not of your business anymore you can introduce me to anyone and say yes she’s my daughter she is clever pretty she has friends she reads and she jogs and i will be perfect and i will throw plates at your head and i will be the worse and no one will know. montgommery forever and ever and ever and i will blow up and i will become a doctor and have a boyfriend and you will say we used to laugh and i will say you were there but somehow the moments when i NEEDED you to understand me you didn’t. you got me but never got me. i cant stop seeing you as a man no matter how fathe