Tumgik
#and with that I bring the tournament to a close
transrikuu · 2 months
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Congrats to Repliku for winning the 2024 Trans Swag Bracket!
Thanks to all who participated, whether it was through voting, nominating characters, or making propaganda!
Here’s the final tally of all the votes each character received throughout the tournament!
Player: 712
Repliku: 541
Luxu: 431
Naminé: 273
Marluxia: 266
Riku: 265
Sora: 235
Aqua: 230
Brain: 214
Saïx: 188
Skuld: 147
Vanitas: 94
Kairi: 92
Demyx: 73
Ava: 72
Pence: 63
Strelitzia: 57
Xemnas: 53
Ventus: 47
Data Riku: 42
Yozora: 35
Ira: 34
Xehanort: 29
Larxene: 27
if the tournament was won through total votes, player would have won by a landslide lol. but total votes also include repeat votes so. um. yeah. Repliku’s the winner still
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sunshineduo · 2 years
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to someone who follows like 10 dtblr blogs who are chill rn can you pls tell me what the fuck is going on and why is there some fucking armageddon LOL
well its been like 30 days since the last george stream so the only option was self destruction
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gorejo · 5 months
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▸ manager in public, creampies in private - gojo satoru (hockey player/fwb!)
synopsis: His jinx — fucking the manager behind his coach’s back before every game — has become a rather risky ritual that he’s secretly developed over the years. With you, a regular pattern of his life, Satoru proposes a deal before his final game — the last time he’ll confess, “you wanna fuck me or do wanna date me?”
contents: wc: 15.2k(i am so sorry y'all.... i have no words for this), unedited. fem/afab!reader, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as "girlfriend," pet names: baby, pretty, (there are so many), satoru calls himself daddy as a joke, locker room sex, fwb!, explicit language, p -> v penetration, creampies, lots of fucking. suguru moved to another uni. cunnilingus, squirting, fingering, teasing, mating press, doggy, gojo can carry the reader because he’s strong like that. little bit of Satoru’s pov..
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The stadium is cold the moment you walk in. It’s enough to make your cheeks mildly sting and send shivers down your back, leaving the tip of your nose to feel frozen. From the crisp smell of the rink that’s been brushed out just moments prior, to the vibrant conversations of adults and the cheers from children anticipating the next game, everything tugged for your attention. 
At the apex of winter sports, today will mark the champions for the national collegiate tournament for Division I Hockey. 
For the normal attendee or avid fan of the sport, being there should be exciting. 
But it couldn’t be far more inapplicable for you. A nervous pit coiled inside your gut — a dichotomous force of friction that made your heart thump in anticipation, but your stomach churn in anxiety. 
Your mind felt like a fuzz. Guess, it didn't help that your ears also felt plugged, with every sound muffling inside that annoyingly distorted your rational thought — or whatever was left of it. 
Stumbling onto the bleachers with your cheeks feeling hot despite the chill that surpassed your skin, your legs felt wobbly while walking over to your designated seat as the beloved team manager; like a broken record, your mind replayed a moment you had not less than an hour prior. 
“Control him from doing anything irrational off the courts. That’s your only job today.” the head coach warned before making his way out of the locker room, his thick calloused hand placed on your shoulder, his firm grip a forewarning to not disappoint him.
“Whatever he chooses to do on it, he can go crazy all he wants as long as he brings home the trophy. I don’t care,” Yaga Sensei muttered, lowly chuckling as he hitched up his glasses, “you’re good at your job, make the last one count,” he firmly stated before closing the door behind you.
Of course, that was your job and in no way were you going to fuck things up. Every game was the same: regulate your star player, do damage control for his unhinged actions, and babysit him – the prodigy for the University of Tokyo, from doing anything negative that the press could get their hands on. 
Or in simpler terms: control your fuck buddy and do whatever it takes for him to not be so unfiltered — keyword: whatever.
You recalled the week prior, cringing at the aftermath of his actions, with you sowing the repercussions of damaging your almost perfect reputable reputation — a total disaster of an interview, the distress to your migraines you had every game day thereafter from both him and Yaga-sensei.
Granted, conducting an interview post-game wasn’t fun for anyone especially when it was painfully knowing that the reporters were only interested in trying to leach out any information to make a viral post of the handsome center.
His articles sold, and any gossip obtained was always a hit. 
His last article went viral — a hot topic of gossip in all outlets of social media, trending not only in Japan but in other countries as the hot man that kicked a reporter, Gojo Satoru, University of Tokyo’s center, and the most infamous, Gojo’s girlfriend. It was of a photo of Satoru midshot, kicking a reporter with his long legs easily reaching to their face with a cheeky smile while his hands were haughtily in his pants with a blurred figure hiding behind his back, nimble fingers grabbing hold of Satoru’s clothes. 
Surely, pretty privilege very much exists when more than half of the comments of netizens were:
omg look at his legs! He’s so pretty! That reporter deserved it. 
damn, wish I looked that good kicking someone. 
He makes me question my sexuality. What a beautiful man.
Definition of looks like a cinnamon roll, but would kill you. 
Don’t worry y’all! That’s me behind him! I’m the girlfriend 😘
SATORU HAS A GIRLFRIEND? I’M SICKKKKKKK
Is it weird to find this hot? I don't condone violence but if it’s Satoru… 
“So Gojo-san, what do you foresee as your next plan to defeat your rival player next week? Can we expect some friendly competition?” The reporter asked, intently waiting to type up any information Satoru had to give.
Sludging over the microphone, his voice vacant of any enthusiasm, but instead endowed in annoyance, “If he can keep up, then yea. It’s been over a year since we’ve been on the same court, I don’t keep up with his updates but I’m sure he’s been training on his own. He’s good at what he does.” Satoru tiredly sighed, brushing his bangs over his forehead, while lightly clutching onto the mic stand with his other hand, “Next question.”
And of course, the rather infamous question he gets asked every interview. 
“Are you currently dating anyone? I’m sure you have loads of people wanting to date you.” Upon hearing the rather obnoxious giggle of the reporter, Satoru’s jaws clenched with irritation. “Any special plans for the New Year with a certain special someone, specifically maybe the one you were pictured with?” 
Getting questions about his private life wasn’t out of the norm and was a regular occurrence. Usually, he’ll flirt with the idea and throw a little bait to the reporters, but particularly on this day, it rubbed Satoru the wrong way.
“What a stupid question, don’t you get tired of asking who I’m fucking?” Satoru numbly responded with life drained from his eyes despite the rather harsh clench of his jaws, “Well, if you’re so dying to know, I’m currently getting rejected on the daily by a rather oblivious person.”
“Any hints as to who —”
“Why?" he scoffed with a brow raised, unfazed, "so you can go harass her for information? Next question.”
“Hello, Gojo-San could you explain about the rumors that are going around about your fallout with Kyoto’s new center?” Another reporter quickly rode off the previous questions. 
“What rumors?” Satoru furrowed his brows, clicking his tongue against his teeth, briefly glancing at you off to the side. A fair warning that he was getting uncomfortable. 
Talking about his ex-best friend was still a sore spot for Satoru, a breakup without proper closure. 
It happened without a notice, a fallout that occurred in the middle of the season during Satoru’s sophomore year, and for a year he’s been silent until he’s made his return with the rival school.
Closing his eyes to calm himself down, fisting his hand as he clenched his teeth, Satoru annoyingly answered back, “We just aren’t on the same team anymore, nothing crazy about that. It’s normal in sports.”
“Well, people are wondering if it’s true that he betrayed you to give the game plays away to his current team.” The man responded, his ignorance seemed bliss, but the malice undertone with the slight tilt of his upper lip told otherwise.
“Betrayed?” Satoru scoffed, the air in the conference room immediately felt cold, irked from the reporter’s nonchalance in picking at his ego, “the only thing getting betrayed is you when your wife sucks my co —”
On instinct, you rushed over to cover his mouth — fucking idiot — and quickly stated through the mic with a routined rueful expression you’ve made one too many times — on behalf of this dumbass.
“I’m sorry, but we’ll conclude this interview from here on! I thank you all for coming.” 
While leaving, you quickly glanced at Yaga-sensei’s disappointed expression, his jaws clenched as he watched you both hurriedly make your way to the locker room with Satoru trailing behind with your grip over his wrist. 
You were one hundred percent going to get an earful from Sensei.
Gojo dumb fucking Satoru always making your life a complete hell; you were determined to chew his ear off.
“Just wait till we get into the lockers, Satoru” you stated through gritted teeth, your grip on his wrists getting firmer with each step.
“Yea? Ooo I like it when you’re rough with me,” he grinned, the utter audacity of him to take you as a joke, “what are you gonna do to me in the locker rooms?” he gasped, his voice innocent — it’s laughable, really — despite his breath close to your ears with his firm chest right behind you, taunting you to continue with your harmless threats.
It’s cute and makes his cock twitch and quickly pool with blood whenever you’re being dominant — at least when you try to. 
Opening the door, you snapped at him while taking a step in, “You’re fucking annoying —”
But things always seemed to take a turn to his advantage — always. 
The milliseconds leading to the locker rooms were silent — silence breaking the moment you stepped foot into it with Satoru’s lips rammed to yours, his hands hungry for greater access to your body. 
You’re completely caught off guard when his lips come crashing onto yours. The slight grunt of his voice mixed with a hint of a whine when he pushed you against the lockers, your hands naturally landing on his firm chest, easily melting into his grip — a sinful vice he’d been swaying over your head like a pendulum for the past years every time you both snuck around to fuck.
“I fucking tried,” he groaned into the kiss while he rapidly unclothed you. The annoyance that he’d felt a couple of minutes prior all dissipated out and funneled to you. It was apparent in the sheer urgency of his hands ripping off your clothes that his patience was running thin. 
“Ngh, S-Satoru!” your chest felt heavy, your mind feeling fuzzy when you met his carnal gaze, “we need to talk —” you’re cut short when his lips latch onto your neck, his hot breath lacing up your skin as he pulled your arms upward and caged your wrists with one hand, while the other traveled down your stomach, straight to your heated core. 
“Talk about what? How we fuck?” he moaned at the pleasurable feeling of your pussy being wrapped with his favorite cotton panties — the one he jokingly gifted for being his fuck buddy for a year — where soon he’ll be able to play with your cum coated folds while he fucked you against the mirror walls. 
“Oh god,” you huffed in the split moment he pulled away to catch his breath when his fingers started stroking up and down your folds, the tips of his middle and ring finger playing with your tight entrance, “Toru, w-we gotta talk, Yaga-sensei —”
Scoffing out a chuckle, he let go of your lips, his teeth pulling against your lower flesh with his voice deep. He peered down at you with his orbs strictly dilated and dark, “Aren’t you cheeky? Trying to get Sensei involved.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, the throbbing pain of your skin feeling sensitive when his calloused finger presses against it, “but you need me to explain to him how we always fuck behind his back?” 
His hand traveled down your throat, his long fingers organically wrapping around your neck, a pleasing accessory around your neck, “I’d like that, too, it’s thrilling isn't it?” he taunted, his breath brushing against your heated cheeks, “but I don't think Sensei will particularly like what I say.”
“Y-your teammates ahh! —” You barely could let out a whine when his lips came crashing again, gasping when you felt the suffocated tension of your bra unclasping, exposing your breasts to the damp, cold air, the buttons of your shirt falling to the floor, “t-they’ll hear!” you tried whispering.
“They aren’t coming,” He growled, “ I locked the door,” his tantalizing voice contrasted with the sharp pain of his teeth biting into your shoulder, a dainty string of spit hung from his lips as he continued to paint your skin with his marks, felt all together euphoric. 
“But they're more than welcome to listen, we'll give them the hottest free porn.”
You can feel his hardened bulge being pressed against your hips, it was torturous to not cup your hands over his hefty cock. And he knew. He could sense it, feel in the way you pulled back into the kiss, the wanton sounds of your needy breaths pleasantly luring him to want more of you.  
“I need you,” he groaned while releasing your wrists and leading them to his member, having your hands hold his throbbing flesh, now painfully pooled with blood, while he aggressively shoved down his athletic shorts, freeing his very erect cock to spring out.
It was a sight to see — his cock freely nodding with pre cum leaking out of the slit, his head flaring a bright red while his veins bulged down his length. You can feel your mouth salivating at the sight of tasting his pebbled release sitting so prettily on his head. 
It’s embarrassing how you were so weak to his touch, how desperately you wanted a taste of his release, to ultimately end up being completely stuffed with both his cock and his cum filling you up to the brim that it just had to leak out of your tight hole.
And it doesn’t help how your mind becomes a blank slate the moment his fingers stroke perfect circles around your hardened clit, the sounds of his reciprocated desires to devour you echoed so licentiously through your ears. 
And accustomed to, your insides perfectly carved with the shape of his length, your inner walls throbbed, clenched the moment his fingers — one, two, three — slowly stretched out your needy pussy. 
“Fuckin’ perfect,” his voice was teasing with a hint of impatience, “good girl," he praised when he feels you innately opening up for him. "show me how much you can suck me in, I wanna feel every inch of you,” Satoru coaxed, “trained this pussy so well, yea?”
Obediently nodding, your arms immediately latch around his neck, pulling him closer to your heated body. And with that, something short circuits in his brain the moment he sees you vulnerably so ready for him. 
“You’re so fucking cute,” Satoru purred, the playful glint of his tone was the opposite of the sheer force he had when he quickly propped up your legs under his arms, pushing you further into the locker room as he rammed his cock inside you, your back arching at the sudden penetration — a dichotomy of pleasure and pain as three fingers surely cannot suffice and prepare you for the length and girth of his cock no matter how many times he’s fucked you. 
“Hold tight,” he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips traveling down to your ears, tauntingly whispering, “I gotta swoon over my manager with a good fuck.”
Aggressively thrusting upward as the tip of his head searched for your sweet spot, your body folded from his strength. It doesn't take him long to find it — gummy and deep — especially when you're trembling and writhing in his grip. "because she just loves my cock, doesn't she?"
“T—toru,” you moaned out, the sweet mating call of his name ringing pleasurable to his ears.
“Who’s my good girl?” cooing as he placed a kiss on your nose, gently smiling despite his cock bullying past your wet, puffy folds, the sharp slapping of his skin meeting your thighs harshly echoing in the empty locker room.
And he swears he saw stars when he hears you.
 — “Me.”
Currently shaking off the memory you had a week prior, you had one job: stop that from happening.
Well, that being another disastrous interview session — sex just so happens to come with it… always.
It’s not like you didn’t enjoy his company. It was rather quite the opposite — you craved his touch and longingly wanted to be by his side despite your words stating otherwise.
In short, you’ve been in denial. A secret you’ve upheld since the realization that he’s crept into your heart and took much more space in it than you would like to admit.
Falling in love with the university’s hot shot wasn’t something you’ve planned to do within your academic agenda. Being prompt with your studies, attending clubs, and enjoying time with friends while studying, with the occasional partying, maybe getting a boyfriend here and there, while accruing a job and work experience was part of the plan. 
Not, him.
More specifically, loving Gojo Satoru, the bane of your existence, the pretty boy with an even devilishly handsome cock, that’s won your heart despite being your fuck buddy, was not part of the plan.
It should be a universal law: to never fall in love with your friend with benefit. And if there was a fine for being defiant of such a law, you would be the one prosecuted and trialed for such a wicked crime. 
And to no surprise, even today, you were no saint. 
Moments before —
“You know?” panting with his arms wrapped around your waists, thrusting upwards while he met your pace as you bounced on his cock.
With sweat dripping down his temple, he sucked onto your perked nipples, groaning when he feels you further tightening around his length — which was already snugly wrapped around him, “we should seriously date,” he frankly stated.
“Shut up,” you groaned, combing through his hair, adjusting your position to move your hips in rhythmic waves, the fire of your thighs making it difficult to withstand this position.
“Why not?” he groaned while pulling you down, cradling the back of your head with one hand while the other motioned your continual movements, his firm touch gratifying and making you feel safe despite the vulnerability of fucking in a public space. 
“I—I don’t ahh ‘Toru that’s too deep! —” moaning from the hitch of his hips, forcing himself to go even deeper, the tip of his cock teasingly poking at your sweet spot as his girth stretched you out — each motion helping him to bottom out.
Your eyes are brimmed with tears as you hold his hair, pulling against his strands while the other digs into his shoulders, marking up his body — it was so easy for him to make a mess of you in such a short time, and he loved it; absolutely craved for it.
“You let guys that aren’t your boyfriend,” chuckling while he pushed your body down, feeling your juices run down his inner thighs, satisfied at how nicely his cock was soaking in your soft walls, “fuck” thrust “you” thrust “like” thrust “this?”
Despite the rather light tone of his voice, jealousy raged inside him. Because there should be no other answer than —
“No — “ your grasping at his back, using any part of his body to find leverage to mitigate the fullness you were feeling inside your tummy — the red scratches of his back and shoulders remnants of your relationship with him.
“Good,” he praised, gripping your ass with a sly smile teased at the corner of his lips, eventually blossoming into a brazen grin when he intentionally stopped his thrusts just to hear you whine out for him again, “and it should stay that way,” he confidently professed. 
Dating Gojo Satoru. That would be nice. 
Commitment issues? Sure, guess you can say you had that.
Insecurities? Most definitely so when your so-called partner was The Gojo Satoru — the university's hottest athlete currently in the process of being scouted to play in the professional league. 
It felt all too surreal, everything inside of you was filled with him — literally and figuratively. From the way his lightly trimmed, now wet with your cum, hair tickled your clit to the way his cock filled every inch of you in one second only to be languid — slow and easy — pulled out and the next, rammed into you like a pistol releasing its bullet.
He usually took his time before games to fuck you, to enjoy and absorb your godly pussy power — he liked to always add while balls deep inside you with your thighs plastered to your chest, his weight pushing against your body, with the silliest smile despite the rather not so silly act he was doing with you.
A jinx, he liked to argue. A just happened chance of a one-night stand, now leading to years of fucking multiple times a week, under his solid impression that without you, there was no success. 
Win after fucking. And a loss without it.
What can you say? Dick was good, but being in his arms felt even better.
It’s a sin. But at this point, did you have any leisure to contemplate if that’s even an option for you to not partake in anymore? 
For someone that sleeps with drool coming out of his mouth, to the obnoxious thirst pics he would send only to you with an even more atrocious emoji ‘😜’ with a little ‘heh’ at the end, he sure gave you butterflies in your stomach; his mere presence made you feel good.
Crying and fervently pleading, with broken moans while every crevice of his cock continually carved your insides with his template, “Right there! — fuck ‘Toru, I—Imma cum please!” and he’ll reply with the most greedy moan as he pumped his seeds into your tight hole.
Satoru liked taking his time, but he also lavished under the thrill of a quick fuck. Desperately clinging onto each other, fucked into an absolute mess while he quickly rearranged your guts — that was his favorite. 
“Can’t talk anymore?” he smiles. At the same time, he painfully fucks you at a slow pace, “Thought you were going to put me in my place?” cock twitching inside you when he notices how swollen your lips have become and the little squirm you release when you feel him growing within you, “it’s a shame, I like it when you curse at me,” he chuckles. 
“Shut up,” you tiredly croaked, “you talk too much.”
“Tired?” he breathed out, looking up with his lips slightly bruised from the feverish kiss you had with him just moments before he chose to open his mouth — the type with tongue with spit drooling down the sides, unafraid to use to teeth to bite and tug.
“Mhm,” you quietly nodded, pulling yourself closer to his body.
“Thought you’d get used to me by now,” he peppered your shoulders with gentle kisses, “you know? by how much I’ve fucked you,” his touch now soft — almost fragile in the way he held you. 
“You wanna try getting impaled by this,” clenching on his shaft for emphasis while you relished in his comfort, “and then tell me if you can get used to it too?”
“Relax,” he coached, chuckling as the padding of his fingers gently massaged your hips and eased out at your muscles, “I hear ya, just lean on me a bit.” 
The warmth of his skin felt nice. The touch of his hand pressing against your body felt like electricity pulsing through your body while the circuits of your neurons flashingly fired to cause the heat of your core to spark in flames when he pressed tender kisses against your shoulders — one too gentle and comforting for a fuck buddy to be doing.
“You know,” he hummed, “dating me won’t be all too bad.”
“Sure,” you thoughtlessly answered back, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck, taking a whiff of his natural scent.
“You like me,” he placed a kiss on your temple, “and I think we’re pretty compatible,” he continued to kiss areas of your face, spending time to adorn every inch, “Sex is good, and I’m hot, so I don’t see why you won’t date me?”
“Who said I liked you?” your useless pride spoke before you registered his confession.
“Rude, who’s the one that won’t let me go in the mornings?” scowling as he lightly flicked your head. “and you mumble when you sleep, you know?” he smirked, the tilt of his lips teasing, his crystal blue eyes half hidden from his lids as he briefly looked down at your swollen lips, “it’s cute, but I would rather have you confess to me when you’re not half asleep.”
“You freak,” pouting as you tried hiding your face, embarrassed that you unknowingly outed yourself yet still chose to proudly reject his confessions.
“How about this,” looking up with eyes sparkling with anticipation, “if I make the last point, then you go on one date with me.”
“Is there an option to decline?”
“No,” offended you would say such words, you could practically see every aspect of his demeanor — hair, face, eyes — all simultaneous sulk in unison.
“Then what if you don’t make the last shot?”
“You won’t need to worry about that,” he cheekily smiled, cupping your face to place a soft kiss on your nose before reaching your lips. You can feel his cock starting to harden and twitch, evident from the small hitches of his hips to burrow himself slowly into you.
Leading you into a kiss, pushing you upward to give a little space for him to squeeze his cock inside you, the patience within him to wait for you to slowly sink onto his length again dissipates the moment he hears you tease.
With your mouth gaping open, and eyes tightly shut while your nails dug into his chest, barely managing to garner the strength to go for another round, you always talked so big. “You’re prideful to think one date can win me over.” 
“I mean I already have,” shrugging as he leaned back on his elbows, scanning down to see where you’re both connected. it's arousing when he sees your pubic bone perfectly nestled on top of his, “You’re the one that’s sitting on my cock, no?”
“your mouth is the problem, Satoru,” rolling your eyes while you pushed him away, the heat of your cheeks burning up just as the core of your stomach flared up and coiled inside you. 
Pulling you back, tilting your chin to meet his wanting eyes, “Hey hey, look at me,” he softly breathed, “I’ll be good to you,” he whispers, “I don’t go fucking around other girls, it’s just been you. I promise.”
“ ‘Toru —” you feel him slightly adjust his hips and in tandem, his cock moves deeper inside.
“Shh… just trust me,” shoving the rest of his shaft fully inside you, clenching his jaws and immediately wrapping his toned arms around your waist. From the sudden suffocating tightness surrounding his size combined with the pleasurable sensation of you writhing in his arms, he knew today was going to be a good game — his career best, at the least.
"I'll prove it to you. I'll win."
"what if —"
And through gritted teeth, while he steadies himself inside you, with each breath he emphasized, the gushing of your wet pussy coating his cock, and the desperate whimpers of your moans sounding so organic and delicate in his ears as he prepared you for another climax, 
“Shh... you should know that best, princess. I always finish the job.” 
— 
Squirming in your seat, heart racing as you watched Satoru belatedly enter the rink, shaking out his white hair before putting on his helmet — droplets of sweat peeking through from his prior rendezvous, the slight bliss on his cheeks blooming with the puff of smoke huffed from his mouth. 
Swiftly skating to his teammates to start on warmups, donning a blue and white jersey with white lettering with the number 6, there was a divide of a deep chant of his name coupled with the shrieking enthusiasm of his fangirls whenever he effortlessly made a practice shot. Whenever he slightly even glanced over to the audience, there was a roar of adoration.
“Keep it all in for me, yea?” the source of your migraine chuckled as he held your trembling body. His hands naturally moved to lightly massage your sore hips, the huffs of his solid chest inviting you to breathe and wind down.
In response you reached up to pinch his nipples, groaning from exhaustion, "pervert..."
“it’s my last game, so be nice to me.” 
Fucking you till the last minute he could spare, Satoru decided to be cheeky and shoot his cum so deeply inside you. Huffing curses close to your ears as his arms pulled you further down on his cock, nearly piercing you with his length, his member pulsing with every splurt of his seeds pushed into you.
In conclusion, you’re now sitting in your seat, not daring to move for fear that it will spill. He was usually good at cleaning you up, taking his sweet time to kiss your cheeks and brush his bruised lips against your skin as he steadied his breath. But maybe it was from the nervous thrill he had of meeting his once friend, or the pent-up frustration of this past season that’s gotten to him, but one thing for sure was that Satoru came a lot — your wet panties currently pooled and soaked in his cum being proof of it.  
“What took you so long, was looking all over for you?” Someone chirped behind you.
Flustered from hearing his voice, you quickly turned around, flinching when you felt a lump of fluid squeeze out of your pussy.
Cheekily smiling as he pulled up his skates while apologetically smiling, “I need my strings fixed… wondering if you had any extra?” 
“Haibara-chan…” you forced out a chuckle, trying to shake away the sudden surprise, lightly shaking your head while you took his skates, “I’m starting to wonder…” slowly untying his laces, the cold stadium making it a bit difficult for your fingers to grasp onto the material, “if you’re doing something fishy with these?” 
“... That's Gojo-san,” Haibara mumbled under his breath, sitting down on the bench, the clothes of his uniform oddly too big for his growing physique, “It just somehow ends up getting worn out all the time,” the younger man sulked, “I blame Yaga-Sensei for running us so hard during practice.”
“Mhm,” you hummed while searching through the team bag to find a new pair of white laces, “I’m teasing, Haibara-chan,” opening up the fresh pack to string his skates, “just promise me, you won’t be like him.”
“Him?” Haibara curiously asked, cocking his head to the side, his blunt bangs moving with the angle of his head.
Yes, Him — the one who’s currently in a headlock from Yaga-Sensei for completely blowing off the pre-game interviews.
“Ah, guess you’re referring to Gojo-san,” Haibara looked into the field, and took a glance at you, “but you like him, no?” 
“Huh?” you felt a sudden pang in your stomach when hearing those words.
“Sorry! I meant like friends!” He raised his hands to rectify the tension from your question, cheeks blushing in embarrassment. “You’re close to him, right? We've noticed you both spend a lot of time together,” he hummed.
“Ah, yeah… I guess,” you softly answered, barely audible.
“He’s handsome and friendly, awfully a good athlete, and is smart too?” Haibara was practically bouncing on his seat while bragging about his beloved senpai, “There’s practically nothing the man can’t do!”
“Sure… but he’s the most insufferable human I’ve ever met in my life,” you grumbled, slouching in your seat to hide your face from possibly showing any emotion while talking about him. 
“Really? Wow, I’m jealous,” he whispered, yet his voice chirped in adoration, “maybe he just really likes you, you know… like how close friends do that to each other! ”
Close friends. 
Guess the dynamic of the relationship was of close friends but… not with a good conscience — close friends with benefits.
Despite the nature of your relationship with him, he wasn’t what you imagined. Indeed, you both didn’t start with the most cordial dynamic. You hated him and despised his guts when he “accidentally” stepped on your white shoes while he rushed out of the lockers. 
Normally you wouldn’t mind. Accidents happen and you weren’t particularly fussy about those things to care. But when the contender that stepped on your shoes had size twelve feet, a literal giant compared to yours, of course, you’ll get livid — especially when the dirt of his soles made your shoe look gray from one step alone; furthermore, when he didn’t dare to say a simple sorry. 
You recall grunting, mumbling curses at the stupidly tall asshole, with an even stupid smirk on his face while cleaning your shoes with a toothbrush during the middle of the night. You slept with the intent to kill him the next morning and make his life a living hell when you’re introduced as the team’s manager.
But guess what, Satoru would always have the upper hand. Before you can even introduce yourself, he’s stiffly walking towards you with a hand awkwardly scratching the back of his head while pushing something in your direction.
“Here,” he stares off to the side as he hands you a shopping bag, “I wasn’t sure what size you wore if it doesn’t fit, you can exchange it.”
“What?” you eyed him, unsure why he was acting so weird.
“Sorry, we got off on the wrong foot,” Satoru lamely threw out a pun, hoping the tension would ease out with a small laugh, instead he was met with your unfazed expression.
“tough crowd,” he softly murmured, sighing before leaving the room, “well, the receipt's in the bag if you don’t like it.”
Suspiciously eyeing the bag, you took out the box and opened it. Inside was a pair of shoes that were similar to the ones you wore yesterday before he ruined them, with a little note inside and a rather cute drawing of himself.
‘Hope we can get along. Welcome to the team.’
You felt acid slowly creep its way up your throat, gurgling in your stomach, making it painfully difficult to succumb anymore to this conversation. A stamp of reality that Gojo Satoru may possibly, after this game, become nothing more than a fever dream. 
It’s silly, really. And it was even more ridiculous how you pulsed in your seat, longingly wanting that he would win — not for his own success, but for yours.
“Sometimes I wish he would be —” 
“Yu and Kento, get your asses over!” Despite being from across the rink, Yaga-sensei’s voice boomed as if he was right next to you, breathing down your ear. 
“I think Sensei is calling for you guys,” you interjected, kindly smiling with your eyes as you passed on his skates.
“Oh shit!” His eyes rounded, face paling and body antsy in his seat, “Ahh thank you for stringing these for me.” Bowing multiple times in gratitude as he reached over his skates, “Nanami! We gotta go!”
“Tell Sensei I’m not here.” You could hear his faint voice coming from the corner, his thick jacket covering his whole body with only his laced skates peeping from the bottom.
“I’ll give you five seconds, ” Yaga-Sensei threatened, “or you’re both running laps around the field till you drop tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir!” Haibara immediately stood up, quickly dragging his fellow blonded friend along with him — for someone less enthusiastic about his games and practices, Nanami was always fully dressed for the game. 
“Ahh Gojo-san! Look this way!”
“GAHHH! Gojo-senpai is coming here! My phone! I need a picture!”
The shriek of his fans' screams painfully rang in your ears. 
The chant of his name gets louder, the shrill becoming overbearing when you notice him skating towards your side of the stadium.
“Don’t you dare come here,” you mouthed, your eyes shooting daggers at the smirk on his face.
You could tell — no, you could feel every inch of your body being observed by the audience, daggers being sent in your direction. 
Did he just fucking wink at me? 
It was infuriating just how normal he was on the court while you writhed in your seat, having a mental shock whenever you felt a hot gush of viscous fluid drip onto your panties. 
Satoru makes a crisp stop in front of you, taking off his helmet and shaking his hair. It was comical the way his fans fell to their knees, girls practically foaming at the mouth and guys mentally noting how to up their rizz game like the athlete.
Opening up the side door, he leans against the railing with his elbows resting on the surface, “you good?” he arrogantly asked. Though his words sounded caring, the slight mischievous twinkle in his eyes told otherwise.
“What do you think, Satoru?” You hissed through your teeth despite the friendly smile you gave him.
“Good girl,” he whispered out, just enough for you to hear, “ wouldn’t want you to waste any of it.”
“Gojo Satoru, I swear —”
The stereo briefly shrieks before announcing, “Ladies and Gentleman! Here come the visitors onto the rink! Give them your loudest cheers!”
Immediately you can see his jaw clenching, and the once vibrant color of his cerulean eyes becoming a shade darker as he turned around to face the opposing team. his gaze specifically lands on the team captain — Geto Suguru, Kyoto Spartan’s center. 
“Are you going to be okay?” softly placing your hand on his forearm, worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself and act on his emotions. 
“Yea,” he turned around half-heartedly chuckling as he looked down at your hand comforting him, only to look up with a smug look on his face, “you worried about your soon-to-be boyfriend?”
“I’m being serious, Satoru,” you lightly gripped his arm, the look of your eyes solidified his one of many reasons why he fell for you in the first place. 
You were kind. well, kind enough to accept all his bullshit.
“I know, and I am, too.” He calmly reassured with his gloved hand placed over yours, “It’s gonna be a good game, and I gonna make you my girlfriend, so don't fall too hard, okay?” Satoru playfully winked, briefly squeezing your hand before leaving you to join his team,  “I’ll be fine, worry about me after the game because I’m going to need it.”
Today would mark the champions for the Mens Division I finals: the Tokyo Trailblazers vs. the Kyoto Spartans. 
The final terminus of once childhood best friends, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, now stood on opposite sides to be the final victor. Star players of both universities who played together till two years ago now stand as rivals at the collegiate championships. 
“Eyes on the puck at all times,” Yaga-Sensei forewarned, “You’ve practiced with Suguru, and knowing his playstyle should be second nature, by now.” taking a glance at Satoru in his zone, eyes fiercely determined yet his composure was calm, “he’s not in our team, so play aggressive. Don’t ever fall behind Satoru, keep up at his pace and pass when you see the moment.”
“Yes sir,” the team harmoniously responded.
“Yu and Kento, remember to be careful, be vigilant and sharp, especially you, Nanami…” Yaga-Sensei cautioned, the lines of his furrowed brows behind his sunglasses deeply cut into his forehead, “No one else knows your position better than Suguru.”
Sophomore year, summer —
Jinx. noun. An evil spell; a person or thing supposed to bring bad luck.
It all started during your second year of university. 
Just like how everything just happens, so does your relationship with Gojo Satoru. It started naturally — or you would like to convince yourself. 
You were the team’s manager by title, and Satoru’s freelancing PR manager in private. 
“Why the fuck do you always have to make my life miserable!” You hissed at Satoru uncaringly stuffing his clothes from his locker into his bag, “Sensei’s gonna kill me tomorrow,” you groaned, leaning against the lockers and sliding down to the cement floor.
“I think that’s a you problem,” he hummed, taking a glance down at you before he continued to pack his bags, “I told you, I wasn’t going to do that interview, especially after that shitty game.”
“You're doing this on purpose huh?” you numbly asked, the throbbing pain of your head making you feel dizzy, “you’re just a prick that can’t accept a loss.”
“Not exactly,” he nonchalantly responded while closing his locker, clicking his tongue in annoyance, “I just didn’t want to answer the same damn questions I get all the time, that’s all,” he stroked his hair back to expose his forehead before crouching down, leaning on his elbows, manspreading to your level while sitting on the bench, “it’s nothing personal, princess,” he winked. 
His face was dangerously close to yours, almost as if he was taunting for something more than just a petty banter — especially in the way he titled his face, making it so easy to just —
“I wanna strangle you sometimes, you know?” you huffed out, glaring at him gloating down at you with the most irritating grin to exist. 
Maybe it was the anger that blinded your senses but strangely he looked so fucking handsome, especially in his gray sweats that — you scanned him from top to bottom, and you can almost see the definition of his crotch through the lining. he was big.
You can almost bet the pink of his lips was so soft to touch, and plush to suck  — what the fuck were you thinking.
Smirking when he caught your gaze on his lips for a second too long, he drew even closer. reaching down to grab your wrists to grip around the collar of his shirt, licking his lips while he challenged, “It’s your lucky day, Princess. Try me.”
Starting is always the hardest, the rest is easy. 
you wanted to kiss him, badly. clenching onto his shirt with a million thoughts spiraling through your head, mentally cursing him with every possible word you knew. Everything soon became quiet the second your eyes zoomed in on him licking his lips — it was absolutely perfect — glossy with a perfect shade of pink that seduced you into agony.
So without thinking, your lips go crashing onto his. The harsh breathing through your nose sounds impatient and gruff. Kissing him, with teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, Satoru immediately reciprocated by pulling you up to his firm lap.
“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you,” he panted in between kisses while his hand sneakingly ventured under your clothes to unclasp your bra and while the other pushed its way into your pants, harshly groping onto your soft ass.
Despite the tease in his voice, the quick speed of his hands curiously touching every inch of your body, groping and clawing, showed otherwise but leisure. 
“you started it,” groaning as you threw your head back, allowing his lips to peck kisses on your skin and for his tongue to trace up to your chin.
“You’re so honest when you’re needy,” he chuckles, “practically fucking me with your eyes.” Satoru always had a way with his words. He always irritatingly managed to get under your skin, as if he had an encyclopedia written on how to annoy you, he was practically an expert at it by now.
Normally you would scoff at his ego, and throw in curses just for some flavor. But you fell silent, pussy suddenly clenching on the air when you took a peek at Satoru, easily pulling off his shirt with one hand. His warm body was draped in a perfect muscle tone while he molded your breasts to his palm, his mouth sucking on your nipple, tongue tenderly swirling around your areola. 
“ngh shut up!” you rasped, “you’re so full of yourself.”
“Hmm,” he sounded pretty humming in response. Using his lips as a decoy to distract where his fingers were trekking towards, he pulled your panties off to the side to slip his slender fingers to touch your pussy — throbbing, warm, and laughably wet.
“let’s see,” groaning when he feels the warmth of your core, and your viscous juice coat his fingers. He swears that’s enough for him to cum in his pants but with all the willpower he had, he didn't — he couldn't until he's at least fucked you a couple rounds and has gotten a taste of your pussy — he lowly chuckled, “where you’re weak, princess.”
you gasped out a quiet, “fuck mhm, right there ‘Toru — j-just like that — please,” while tugging onto his hair, the hiss through his teeth sounding so melodic to your ears. 
With your fingers harshly entangled in his hair, you tried to register how this all happened. Your clothes were one by one thrown onto the cold floor, with Satoru now shirtless as he littered your bosom with tender kisses, holding you behind your curved waist while you pressed your chest further into his mouth, to feel the gratification of his warm tongue sucking on your nipple.
As his fingers stroked up and down your folds, the lewd noises of your erection squelched loudly while his mildly calloused fingers rendered pleasurable friction to your clit — a new, profound sensation you’ve never felt before, especially not with your fingers or even your most reliable toys. 
And it felt good — so fucking good. 
“you’re so soft,” he pulled out a groan deep in his throat, “hold onto me,” he ordered, his tongue trailing up your chest while he switched positions to have you lie on the bench.
Quickly pulling out his hand from touching your cunt, to strip you from your pants and throw them off to the side, he smirks when he hears a subtle whine subconsciously release.
“No — ’Toru please —”
That's all he needs to hear. Satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs and meeting your dripping pussy.
it’s wet—so wet, he can see it through your damp panties. He almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. call you out on your ego, but the ache that shoots down to his cock, painfully throbbing in his briefs, banging to be freed, reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself — probably worse and much more needy, desperately wanting, than you can imagine. 
“I got you,” he huffed, pressing a tender kiss on your knees before spreading out your legs to settle in between them, his eyes soaking up every inch of your pussy to have it practically memorized, “I just wanna see you a bit.”
Pulling up your panties and seeing your puffy folds perfectly enveloping the fabric made his cock twitch, forcing his hips to push his hardened bulge against your needy core while a tantalizing, static pulse ripped through his body.
The thick padding of his finger pushes against your flesh. And if there was a pageant for the prettiest cunt, Satoru was goddamn sure you would win. especially with how your pussy softly recoiled every time he poked your wet flesh, simultaneously eliciting an even prettier, desperate moan. 
“god you’re fucking wet,” Satoru purred as he played with just how thick your juices strung onto his fingers, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he delightfully praised under a solemn breath.
“Satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most. 
So what better way is there than to play his own game — to tease and have him be the one yearning, begging at his feet.
“Yea?” gaining a bit of your conscience to lean your weight on your elbows,  instead of needly lying on the bench, expecting Satoru to do something — anything, fast, “you’ve seen other pussies? Thought you were a virgin,” you teased while looking down at Satoru, pushing his bangs away from his eyes — his white hair a mess, cheeks heated and eyes dark and dilated. 
but, it’s his game. no one knows the rules better than he does. 
So instead of your expected reaction, Satoru chuckles, and takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, blowing air while he watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing. your hole pulsates in desire as arousal drips and leaves you into a burning mess.
It’s perfect—you’re perfect, everything about you is what he’s dreamed of — no, it’s better, far better than what he's fucked his fist to all this time.  
“Cute, you think so highly of me,” he snorted, unfazed by your mockery, eyes still focused on your pussy, “but you can see for yourself —” Satoru fastly pulled you down, causing you to yelp in shock at how strong he was. his face was now dangerously close to your leaking core, fingers delicately spreading out your folds, to uncurtain your pulsing hole and clit, contently smiling in adoration.
“—if I’m a virgin or not.”
“do you even know where the cli— oh my god,” you sobbed, the heaves of your chest becoming greater the moment you feel Satoru suck on your hardened bud, the plush of your thighs pushing against his head, curving your back as you pulled onto his hair, breathless from how he, too, was desperately eating you out.
it’s jaw dropping hot when his veins bulge and Adam’s apple bob while he gulps down thick saliva mixed with your sweet cum down his dry throat, his palm presses down your stomach to keep you pinned from squirming away.
he hears you and feels that you want him to. so he works, he works till his forearms burn and his biceps beautifully flex every time he fucks his finger into you, completely stretching you out, expertly adding more of his fingers to see your tight rim around his fingers clench in needy desire.
It doesn’t take him long to make you cum. Perfectly in tandem with the pressure of his mouth sucking your clit, to the rhythm of his finger inching deep within to find your sweet spots, guess, it’s not a surprise it takes him less than two minutes to locate it and another minute for you to be gushing. Quivering in his reign, the pleasure overwhelming as you came in his mouth— it’s almost painful how euphoric it felt.
Sucking and lapping every last bit of you while steadily pulsing his fingers in and out as you slowly came down from your climax, it wouldn’t be Gojo Satoru if he didn’t get the last word.
Letting go of your abused pussy with a soft kiss to your clit, his lips down to his chin were drenched, glistening, and dripping with your cum.
“You were saying?” he grinned.
Two hours thereafter, that day, Gojo Satoru performed a career-high of scoring seven goals.
Day of finals, thirty seconds till the game starts —
“Nanami,” throwing his arm around his Kohai, "I always knew you would be most fitting for this position,” a gentle voice welcomed himself.
“Geto-san,” Nanami's voice was emotionless, “you’re more than welcome to come and take it back,” the junior sarcastically jibed.
“Me? Don’t know if Satoru —”
“Get away from him, Suguru,” Tokyo’s team captain cut the rival off, “the game’s about to start, Nanami.”
Suguru shrugs while Nanami swiftly strides to his position as right-wing, carefully watching the scene behind Gojo’s back.
“Satoru!” The raven-haired now standing in front of Tokyo’s center amicably called out, eyes forming a crescent behind the thick black and white helmet, “long time no see.”
Satoru was straight to the point, desperate, “why’d you leave…?”
“No hello? My… Satoru,” the other chuckled while he comfortably situated his stick, next to the puck while both teams waited for the starting bell to ring, “where have your manners gone.” 
“are those rumors true?” Satoru asked while lowering his stance, preparing himself to get the first puck to start the game.
“The rumors?” Suguru questioned, a slight twitch of his lips giving away his faux innocence, “Oh —” scoffing while reciprocating Satoru’s actions, “Ahh, the one about me being a traitor?”
“Suguru, I know you. Tell me the tru —”
A loud buzz echoes in the stadium, Satoru’s words falling blank under the blaring cheers of the fans.
“Taking the lead —” the announcer reported live through the blaring amplifier.
“Guess, we’ll both have to see how much you know me, Satoru,” Suguru swiftly stated in the milliseconds of passing Satoru, speedily making his way for the opponent’s goal.
“— ladies and gentleman, has the Tokyo Trailblazers finally found their match? The Kyoto Spartans will take the lead with player Geto Suguru setting the pace!”
The second period, five minutes till the buzzer for intermission —
Tokyo (3): Kyoto (3)
Grunting as he pushed his way through the defense, despite the chaos of the stadium, he could hear the familiar crisp sound of skates closely behind him, “I heard you’re finally sleeping with her,” Suguru smirked, now skating parallel to Satoru.
“Shut the fuck up,” Satoru grunted, making every effort to keep pushing for the offense, expertly navigating through the rink while juggling the puck past the opposing team, quickly passing the biscuit to Nanami, “it’s none of your damn business,” Satoru hissed out.
“You're scared that she might not like you? ” Suguru breathed behind his ear, “when that’s all you’ve been painfully doing till now?”
Wrong, Suguru couldn’t be more far from it. 
Because since the beginning, for him, noncontingent of your response to him, it’s always been you.
And outside being the gifted athlete who’s endowed with greatness, with you, Satoru had two personas.
the one that desperately fucked you.
Crashing into the lockers, the impact of your back being further pushed onto the cold medal sent shivers down your body with every desperate thrust of his cock into you. It was awfully dangerous to moan out of his name, let alone to even breathe when his teammates were just outside the door.
“Shh, be a good girl,” he grunts while slowly fucking his cock out of you, only to ram it back in with even greater force, while his hand simultaneously covers your mouth, “don’t want people to hear you getting fucked, do we?” 
Muffling your moans with his palm, his cock relentlessly pistols in without any leisure to be accommodating to your aching core. His breathing becomes more hitched as his thrusts become more languid to press deeper — his length reaching as far in as it can go — it would be an understatement if you weren’t scared that he could practically rip you in half in this position.
You grab him. and your nails dig deeply into his back, marking his skin with angry scratches of crimson red. maybe he was a masochist, but the pain of your nails coloring his back was nothing compared to the pleasurable satisfaction he got when your gummy walls suffocated his cock.
Kicking out his teammates, only to fuck behind their backs as they cluelessly started on their warmups before a game was routine.
He’s memorized every inch of your body, studied where it makes you writhe, tremble, and immediately latch onto him for your dear life while he helps you reach your high. 
And right now, he knew. He can feel it in the way you’re clenching down on him that you were close. Not that he had any idle leisure of his own, but just enough to pump his cock feverishly into you, bullying past your abused hole as he lavished in the melodic symphony of his balls slapping against your cunt.
He has you folded against the wall, his arms holding you up and hitched under your thighs while he mercilessly fucked you. The burning in his muscles and the strain he felt in his body was nothing comparable to the heaven he was experiencing with your powerless stance under him while his hips snapped forward, his cock dominating your insides with his hand covered in your drool.
“—Toru please” you tried yelling, only for your voice to fall faint each time he rutted inside you, his cock completely disappearing in your body only to magically reappear to stretch you out again and burrow its length deeply within.
“angel,” he taunted, his breath fanning against your heated face, causing your eyes to swell up in tears when your eyes linked with his, briefly opening up his hand to allow you to breathe, “you gonna be quiet?”
You softly nodded, your insides clenching to stop the weird pressure that was building up inside, “it feels weird here, Toru — ahh it’s too much!” you whimpered, touching your tummy while your body ricocheted from his force.
“Yea? Then cum for me princess, I know you’re close,” he growls into your ear, his hot breath making it even more difficult to breathe, “you’re such a good girl taking my cock so well,” he praised, groaning when he immediately felt you throbbing around him in response.
The moment you see stars and your mind fall blank is when thick ropes of cum shoot inside you. you can almost feel the individual splurge of his hot seeds coating your walls, with every desperate thrust he made to completely milk out his cock, his tip throbbing while he grunted with pleasure. 
“I fucking love —” he rasped out, face nuzzled into the cave of your neck. it was difficult to mesh out his last word from his harsh panting to catch his breath as he felt the lumps of his cum squeeze past his member, still inside you, splattering onto the floor with a warm trail of liquid gushing down his thighs.
“good luck today,” you whispered.
Luck? he didn't need.
But you? he absolutely, detrimentally did.
Or, the latter.
The one that, still, fucked you — because he loved you, like a lover. 
With the days that surpassed as being his friend — with benefit — the more he’s taken a place in your life. It started with freely coming over after practice — fucking, despite not having a game the day after. Your bathrooms would naturally have another towel hung, and an extra toothbrush would stand next to each other.
Groceries were always Satoru’s duty, while you stocked up on the self-care necessities. Satoru particularly loved getting a facial with you with all the high-end masks and oils, cuddling under the blanket while you both watched cringy romcoms.
But it was undeniably his personal favorite when he could give you a facial with his cum splattered onto your face — it’s beautiful seeing you covered with his seeds. Or when his face is drenched in your sweet juice, despite his lungs desperate for air he immediately pushes you further down to sit on his face when he catches you trying to move away.
It’s become a ritual. you've become his religion.
He comes at exactly 8:47 P.M. And you wait for him.
The key to your door opens at the exact time. 
He grins when you walk up to greet him.
“Waited for me?” he softly cooed, placing his index finger under your chin, his lips onto yours while sucking gently before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting you both, but quickly snapping when he brushes his thumb across your cheeks.
If the universe orbited around you, he was your centripetal force.
“So pretty,” he praised while looking into your eyes, breathless as if he could be absorbed into it.
“I have food —” 
"Later,” he abruptly cuts you off, pulling you close to his body, ”but, I think —” humming with his lips barely brushing against your cheeks, his hand squishing them together as he confesses.
“— I'm gonna fuck you so hard,” his voice was unusually sweet for saying something so crude, “that you won't even be able to see out of those pretty little things."
You softly gasped, flustered and unsure of how to respond to such a comment. Instead, you roll your eyes as your hands find the back of his head to pull him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 
His hands roam around your body, particularly groping your ass before his fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts — his favorite ones that always managed to get him bricked up.
"No panties, huh?" He states with amusement, "Aren’t you a bad kitty acting all coy,” he chuckles.
"Shut up," you retort, your cheeks feeling hot under the pressure.
“You don’t want it?” he rebuttals, taking a step back as if there was even a choice.
It’s infuriating how much power he had over you, enticing you in his grip as you mindlessly frolicked in his palm. And it doesn’t help that he looks… well… he looks gorgeous, dangerously handsome — especially with his hair mildly wet, and his warm body fragrant with cologne and body wash. 
“I said,” wrapping your arms around him, further pulling him by the neck — so close that you can feel the tent that’s bulging under his sweats and the desperation that overflows in his visage while he angles his lips to perfectly match yours, “fuck me.”
“That’s more like it,” he murmurs before kissing you — it’s feverish and wanton, the type that makes you weak in your knees and your core to burn up in flames. 
His steps immediately guide you to your bedroom, groaning and grunting while clothes are being stripped off one by one, leaving a trail of evidence with no intent of stopping the kiss. 
Your feet knock against the foot of the bed, his signal to push you onto the mattress, abruptly ending the kiss as he looks down at your flustered expression with a smirk on his lips. 
Relishing in your gaze, Satoru strips in front of you. Pulling his shirt over his shoulders with one hand, he flexes his stomach and takes his time to get naked.
He knows you'll look — you always do. Outside of being an athlete, what was the purpose of hitting the gym? To catch you lusting after him. He can practically see your mind racing with thoughts, and he couldn't wait to show that he's better than what your silly, pretty, little brain could ever imagine him doing to you.
Examining him from top to bottom, propped up on your elbows, you absorbed the sight of his smooth, toned chest as he stripped, the dentures of his muscles beautifully sculpted down from his chest to the crisp lining of hip dents that led to his crotch. 
Leaning over, his body caging you with his toned arms, he gently places a kiss on your forehead, “like what you see?” he chuckles, “I’m pretty sexy, right?”.
"what the fuck?" you suddenly gasped.
“what?!” he whines — you can see his hair practically deflate.
Brushing your fingers over his chest, running your hand down to his abs, it’s smooth and toned. “thought your nipples would be pink,” you snorted, pinching his nipples.
He flinches at the pain, "it’s a brownish pink, for your information," He states, pouting, “and you’ve only noticed it now after how many times you’ve seen me naked?”
"I’m joking, stupid," You laughed, the melodic tune of your joy ringing in his ears like a constant melody.
“but I’m pretty right?” he pouts, biting your shoulders and softly kissing his denture marks. 
“Yea sure whatever,” you breathe out, throwing your head back as he now kisses up your neck, your heart just about to burst out of your chest.
"Let's get this off, hm?" Satoru kindly asks while tugging on the bra strap.
Obediently nodding, you raise your arms like a kid, and he pulls it off over your head. And unlike the trail of clothes you’ve both left behind, he manages your garment with care — especially after the last one he “accidentally” ripped.
His hands rest on your stomach, fingers stroking every curve before he brings them up to cup your boobs, pushing up your breast to squish it softly.
“Feel good?” he asks, watching your expression slowly unfold in bliss.
And before you know it, he's dragged his hands down to your thigh, his fingertips softly grazing slowly to your panties, getting dangerously close to womanhood.
"Tell me how much you want me to touch you," He whispers, and in response you shove your fingers into his hair, gripping tightly.
The light callous of his fingertips trail over your clothed clit, gently stroking the base with his fingers, feeling your panties slowly becoming more damp with each touch. 
Further opening up your legs, allowing him full access, he immediately takes the offer and ventures further along. situating himself in between your thighs to pull your panties off, kissing your hardened bud while peering up to see you touching your breasts, it’s a sweet sight to see for Satoru — breathless — while you longingly waited for him to just hurry the fuck up. 
“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “That’s fuckin’ cute.”
"Right there-" you whisper, and he nods, dragging his fingers along, slowly moving them around to stimulate you as he sucked on your clit, taking his time to prep you
“You still didn’t —” The vibration of his voice further stimulates your needy pussy, gasping as you curve your back, desperately reaching for more of his perfect stimuli, “answer my question,” he states.
"Don't piss me off," you groan, pushing his face back into its rightful place.
"Goddamn," He mutters, the grip of his hand on your thighs becoming harsher, and the stuck of his mouth further fueled fire to your core. 
"I don't know how much longer I can wait when you treat me like that," he grunts while standing up again, simultaneously pushing down his pants and briefs, wasting no time as he wiggles out of his sweats.
You can see his dick is hard, twitching as it greets you. 
He exhales heavily, stroking his length as he situates his head to brush over your pussy. He’s seen it countless times, but will never get enough of measuring just how far he can settle inside you. The sweet plush of your tummy offers more cushion and excitement as he watches you hitch up your hips, impatiently waiting for him.
"aren't you excited?" Gojo says with a grin, using his thumb to rub circles around your clit, guiding himself past your folds, purposefully missing your entrance to coat himself with your natural lubricant.
He doesn’t even wait for your answer, and wastes no time pushing himself in, pulling out a whimpered groan, allowing your walls to open up and welcome his entrance.
He picks up his pace, rhythmic and balanced while sliding his hands under your hips to lift you up slightly to make sure his entire length can fit inside. 
"You're so tight.” Satoru grunts with a furrow in his brows as he dug his nails into your ass. hissing through his teeth while he continued to fuck through your tight hole, “You don't make this easy for me, do you?" He mocks, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulls you forward, your naked breasts bouncing with every impact.
You close your eyes, feeling every inch of his cock inside you. The slight tickle of his trimmed pubic hair brush against your clit as he slowly starts to roll his hips.
"You're so —" You whined, concentrating on keeping your sanity every time his tip painfully brushed back your sweet spot, "ngh — lazy!"
"Lazy, huh?" he scoffed, licking his lips like a predator locked in on his prey.
“ahh!” you yelped. within seconds you immediately find yourself on your stomach with Satoru’s weight crushing you from above. flipping you over without notice, wrapping a hand under your jaw as he turned your face towards him to deeply kiss, his feet harshly spreading and locking your thighs apart while his cock rammed into you, his balls splattering your wetness with each thrust.
"Maybe I won’t be so lazy if you become my girlfriend,” He states with a smirk, “just give in angel, you like my cock.”
“fuck — ‘Toru! slow d-down” you managed to cry out his name, his cock mercilessly thrusting into you, “you have n-no,” by now you were a babbling mess at how good he was fucking you, drooling with your lungs burning inside your ribs, “game tomorrow.”
“boo you’re boring,” He provokes, pushing his hand under your stomach to pull you on all fours, “never answering my questions.“ 
It doesn't take long for Gojo to adjust himself behind you. especially since your dripping cunt made it so for him to slide through every time. but it takes moments for you to readjust to him — every new position meant greater access for his cock to rearrange your insides.
“but this pussy will always be my good luck charm.”
It's almost as if you can feel his smirk as he grabs your hips, and begins to roughly pound into you in doggy.
"Look who’s lazy, c'mon, keep hips up, angel," He effortlessly teases, spanking your ass and firmly gripping onto the pulsing flesh.
"S-shut up, asshole,” you hissed, putting your head down on your arms for more leverage — it’s shocking how you’re not flying onto your headboard from the force of him thrusting into you.
"That's rich considering your asshole is right in front of me.” he chuckles, spreading open your cheeks to see your other hole pulsing on top of the one he was currently fucking, the rim barely withholding his girth, “ wanna try anal? it’s pretty, by the way."
"D-do you ever shut up?" You complain, reaching over to grab your pillow to muffle your moans. but in that split second, Satoru catches your wrists and pulls you backward, your back heavily arching and breasts rapidly bouncing in all directions, mimicking the robust thrusts of his cock pistoling into you.
“how can I, when you look so pretty,” his thrusts become more aggressive, “getting” thrust, he watches you crumble, face contorting in pleasure, he can tell you’re close, “fucked? thrust “by” he quickly catches your hand trying to reach down to stimulate your clit, “my” deeply pushing in, further splitting you open in half, the tip of his member knocking against womb, “cock.”
“too much…ahhh—wait! ‘Toru!” The bed violently shook as he drove his cock, balls slapping your wet pussy as your legs trembled with warm liquid dripping down from your thighs, slowly pooling onto the sheets.
“just say it, princess, you love me,” he growls, thrusting more as he nibbles on your lobes, pleasurable tears sliding down your cheeks as you instead gasp out his name.
“at least your pussy is honest.”
---
“I’m not here to talk, Suguru, get the fuck out of my way,” Satoru growled while pushing the other off.
“Don’t tell me, you still got no pussy to ask her out, Satoru,” the raven hair taunted.
“Nanami!” Satoru called out noticing his wing’s position wide open to shoot for a goal. It was apparent in the way Satoru briefly lost his balance, his composure starting to chip away from the strain of his muscles that he was getting exhausted — a feat Satoru would normally never struggle with until the last couple minutes of the game. 
But speedily passing by and braking with thick shaving of ice spraying from the sudden stop, intercepting the puck when Nanami passes — a gameplay Suguru’s practiced countless times with Satoru — the Kyoto’s center was now in possession of the puck, taking no moment to rest before charging the opposite direction.
In those split seconds, Suguru jeered, “wasn't this our favorite play?”
“Fuck!” Satoru muttered under his breath, quickly changing momentum to skate the opposite way.
And just before the buzzer goes off, Suguru easily angles his stick to chip the puck, the force of the impact causing the biscuit to shoot straight into the net.
Satoru huffs just meters away, dumbfounded at how much Suguru’s improved and curated his craft. A force he once relied upon and leaned on, trained tooth and nail while shedding blood, sweat, and tears together since fourteen now has become a thorn to his side that contrived to bring him down, Suguru bypasses his once best friend, standing in shock.
“are you still in denial, or have I answered your question about who’s the traitor, Satoru?”
Tokyo (4): Kyoto (5)
Intermission before the third, final period —
A tie (6:6)
It was the longest eighteen minutes of your life. no one dared to even speak. Through the chatter and vibrancy of the stadium, only the heavy huffs and gulping of electrolytes of the players were heard. Even Yaga-Sensei just sat there, brows furrowed with his thick arms crossed over his chest.
And Satoru, too, silently sat on the bench, leaning on his elbows parched to his thighs, manspreading with a towel thrown over his head. The heat of his body contrasted with the gelid stadium had faint white smoke radiating from his expended body.  
“Satoru,” you gently called out while handing out a fresh towel for him to use, “you’re going to catch a cold.” 
“Don’t need it,” he dully murmured without taking a second to raise his head to acknowledge you.
“I —,” Yaga Sensei grasped hold of your shoulder to stop you from saying anything regretful that would further disturb him. Biting your tongue, you sighed, “Sure.”
The cold response of someone who literally just rearranged your guts so wantonly before the game, sharing an intimacy with him throughout the years that bloomed into something more than what you’d like to acknowledge than simply being a friend with benefit caused both frustration and helplessness to boil within you for not being unable to help him.
Not like he needed your help, nor did he ever ask. But from time to time, you wished he would let down his burdens with you, and allow you to carry his weight for a while.
Only once has he ever shown you his emotional side. The infamous night when Satoru received the news of Suguru’s departure, you found him drunk in front of your apartment waiting for god knows how long.
all you could remember was that the night was awfully cold for someone to have a broken heart.
That night, despite no words being said, the comfort of your arms and the warmth of your skin helped him to sleep despite the storm that raged in his mind. 
It was understandable his mood. Normally he wouldn’t be so emotionally invested in a game, even if he had lost. During intermissions, he would either be chatting up a storm, blowing your ear off about all the plays he’s made and if you’ve finally fallen in love with him. Or, two, he’ll be listening to you nagging at him to not go throwing his opponents against the wall while wrestling for the puck.
Hockey was aggressive, but it was also an athlete’s duty to learn how to play smart and do their best to abstain from injuries that could potentially harm their career — especially, if the athlete in question is one preparing for his national debut to representing Japan in the Winter Olympics the following year.
Awkwardly, eyeing your expression, Haibara laughed while scratching the back of his head, cheerfully asking, “I would like a new one, mine’s a little damp.”
“Me too,” his blonded friend chimed in, his voice not as enthusiastic as Haibara’s.
Smiling in appreciation, you lent them a towel and extended the care to the other players as well.
“Why’d you give him the steal?” Sensei bluntly asked, looking at the rink while sternly watching Suguru make his way onto the field. His ex-disciple gave his old coach his respects with a little bow when he caught his gaze. 
“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Satoru numbly stated, the clenching of his fists reflecting his true emotions.
“You know what to do,” Yaga-Sensei firmly stated, pushing his sunglasses up his thick nose, wasting no time before the buzzer rang again to redirect his player, “you know him better than anyone else, trust your instincts.”
Twelve minutes till game —
The crowd roars. Currently in the last period, with a couple more minutes on the clock to crown the final winner, both teams ferociously fought to control the game. 
The pluck clicks with each hit against the blade. Speedily sliding against the ice it was almost difficult to see it on the field. 
Currently, in possession, Nanami pushed forward, putting pressure on Kyoto’s defense as Haibara simultaneously rushed to the other side, leaving Satoru wide open for a pass. Nanami prepares to hit a pass over to his captain, hitching the puck in the air for a quicker velocity towards Satoru, who’s ready to receive —
The glass walls tremble on impact. Flinching at the loud noise, your eyes widen when you see it unfold in slow motion. Both bodies harshly collided against the wall with Satoru getting sandwiched between two forces. expelling out a groan as he slid down the wall, with puffs of white smoke spewing from his lips with each harsh huff of his chest. 
“Seems like a brawl has occurred between the two captains!” 
“And from the looks of it, Gojo Satoru is struggling to get back on his feet!”
“No,” you muttered under your breath, face paling and body going cold despite the adrenaline pumping through your blood, you pushed your way through the audience to get to where he was.
Your mind felt like a minefield. With bombs ticking, threatening to explode with each step you took. Nauseous from the anxiety, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe as if there was a ball stuck in your throat. And despite the efforts to try and stay calm, it was rather difficult when your thoughts replayed the countless other injuries Satoru sustained during your time as his manager.
“He’s going to have to take at least 8 to 10 weeks off for his fracture to heal.” The emergency physician stated, pointing at the small crack on his right clavicle.
“He probably won’t listen,” Sensei remarked, crossing his arms while letting out a deep sigh, “is there any way he can recover faster?” 
“It’s fine guys —” Satoru tried playing it off.
“Shut up,” you and Sensei simultaneously interjected, scolding him to be quiet as if he were a child.
Clearing his throat, “As I was saying, it must’ve been painful for him to have played in this state, I imagine this was an ongoing injury he’s sustained in the past,” the doctor murmured while further analyzing the film.
You immediately shot daggers at him, glaring when the doctor unintentionally outed Satoru’s injury he’s been keeping a secret. Flinching, Satoru slowly sank further into his bed, covering his face with his blanket. 
“Though, being diligent with his PT and fully resting his body for at least six weeks will be the fastest route for recovery.”
But, well… it doesn’t take more than five weeks for you to get a text from Suguru.
From: Suguru
Don’t get mad… 
To: Suguru
You saying this makes me already mad. What happened?
From: Suguru
Just bring some icepacks and some sweets and head over to Satoru’s place. 
To: Suguru
I swear to god if you guys play —
From: Suguru
... it's his fault.
And it doesn’t take you more than thirty minutes to be blowing up his doorbell, knocking on his door at exactly 12:34 A.M. with an ice cooler with icepacks and a bag full of his favorite candy. 
Thud! 
“Fuck… ow that hurt.” You heard a muffled voice through the door. 
“It’s me.” You curtly announced.
Quickly opening the door, his elbow leaning against the door with an insouciant tone to his voice, he cracked a boyish smile, “Ah, isn’t this my favorite person. What brings you here?” 
“I told you not to —” Rage bubbled up inside you as you glared at him. 
“Okay!” Nervously holding up his hands, doing his best to calm you down, “before you get mad —”
“I’m already mad, Satoru —”
“Okay! Fine! Before you get even madder,” taking the heavy loads off your shoulders, settling them onto the floor, his warm hands cup your face, “it’s really nothing big. Just feels a little strained that’s all,” he tried to reassure when he sees you about to object.
“Really, I’m fine,” his eyes urged you to trust him, “I just… missed being on the rink, that’s all.”
Your eyes soften when you see the little sulk on his lip, and notice how he’s lost a little weight in his cheeks. Quickly letting out a deep sigh through your nose, you mumbled out, “I’ll be the one to decide if you’re fine or not.”
---
“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, firmly holding onto the hem of his white shirt while saddling on his thighs.
“Oh wow.” he placed his hands on his chest, acting innocent from your forwardness.
“Satoru, take your shirt off,” you grumbled, pulling at his shirt and rolling your eyes when it was easily removed, despite him acting naive, again his hands covered his bare chest — just managing to barely cover his sculpted pectorals.
“It’s really nothing,” he blushed, awkwardly looking off to the side with a guilty smile. 
“Satoru you just took off your sleeve,” you murmured, placing an ice pack on his collarbone, your voice filled with worry. 
“I’m really fine, baby,” he loosened up after seeing the cute pout on your lips, your brows faintly furrowed as your fingers ever so lightly iced his injury.
“I’m not your baby,” you stated with a glare, clearly not impressed with his defiance to go against his doctor’s orders, “I don’t date people that don’t listen to me,” you said without much thought while tending to his bruised clavicle.
“Oh —” his ears perked at hearing your words.
Fuck.
“Wait! What I meant was —”
It was evident that he was trying to contain his smile from the way he bit his lips. “You so wanna date me don’t you?” 
---
It’s not a surprise how you ended up in this position.
It started off with a light kiss, lips softly meshing with each other with light teasing of tongue — he swore, it’ll be just one kiss.
Soon enough hands start to idly move on their own accord, groping areas, and massaging places that wouldn’t particularly follow with just one kiss, leaving you both simultaneously panting and yearning for more. 
And then you’re grinding on his throbbing cock, spit slightly leaking from the edge of your mouths while tongues feverishly fought for dominance, naked with your pussy pulsing and dripping in need to swaddle and engulf him whole. 
Progressing forward, you’re slowly sinking onto his length, bottoming out with your ass seated on his thighs, foreheads linked while you both took a minute to adjust to one another. like an unspoken language, you both solemnly breathed, that even if the world crashed around you both, nothing would matter because the other was there.
He’ll cum.
It’s beautiful how he does it. And in moments like these, you can’t deny that the man who’s chasing after his high under you was the man you loved. 
With his mouth gaping open, his white brows furrow as he gasps for air while his large hands grip your bum, spreading out your cheeks for easier access through your hole. He desperately thrusts into you, unrhythmic and hips helpless from the warm seduction your plush walls have over him. His seeds shoot straight to your womb, filling you entirely with pulps of his cum leaking through your cunt. And it takes him a couple seconds to breathe as he rides out his high. 
And then you’ll be sandwiched in between the sofa and his heavy body, his cock rummaging inside, amplifying the sound of his member shoved through your dripping cunt. It’s loud and sloppy the way he fucks into you. Wanton and bashful in the way his muscles tighten in tandem with you clenching down when his head hits just the right spot. 
Your legs immediately wrap around his hips, securing him down to fuck you in that position. And he doesn’t retaliate from the limited position, instead, he welcomes it. With his face burrowed into the curve of your neck, his palms pushing your thighs to your chest—  biting, clawing, scratching, and licking — doing whatever it takes for you to rectify the burning ache in between your thighs, and for him to release his seeds into you again — again, and again, and again. 
“—toru! please,” you cried out and in your plea, he answered, “I’m right here,” Satoru groaned, “Keep up with me — fuck, I swear, jus’ a little more.”
Tightly wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzled closely to your ear. Despite him already being inches deep within you, his every grunt and pant, the desperate moans he releases while he states your name, mixed with delirious curses has you craving for more.
With his mind hypnotized from the pleasure of his cock rummaging your insides, swaddled in care despite his cock bullying past your folds, he becomes possessive and carnal.
“This is mine,” he harshly bites your shoulders, pleased when you yelp while simultaneously tightening your reign on his cock burrowed within your walls, “all mine. You’re fucking mine,” he proclaimed.
“ — ‘Toru please keep going fuck right there!” you sobbed, cheeks stained with euphoric tears.
“Just say you want it,” he growls muffled with his lips smashed with yours, “tell me you want me.”
“yes, I want it. I want it so, so bad — need you so bad ‘Toru!” you mewled, letting out a soft whimper, feeling the vibrations of his grunts, pulses of ecstasy pulsing through your veins and straight to your core as you succumbed all authority and control for him to do whatever he desired.
“Fuck fuck fuckkkkkk.” he curses when he hears your words. Like a broken record, it echoes in his brain, with every release of his cum, his breath hitching and body vibrating as he finally reached his climax.
The voice of you calling out his name so dearly repeats so melodically in his ears. 
Soon, the room once filled with the savage slapping of wet skin and immoral use of dirty curses of pleasure while you both partook in unholy matrimony was now filled with a thick smell of post-sex pheromones, coupled with softened breaths and sweet hums of foolish lovers. 
“Be careful,” you softly mumbled, under him, while your hands lightly weaved through his damp hair. you placed a soft kiss on his bruised collar, his pale skin accentuated the blue-green tint, making it look far worse than it was.
“aw, you worried for me? I’m so touched,” he faked a sob as he pulled you tighter into his arms, mumbling while he lavished in your warmth.
“I still didn’t forgive you,” you lightly pulled on his hair. his eyes were droopy and his body felt even more heavy over your limp one. 
“Yea?” he hummed closer to your lips, gently kissing you while slowly grinding his hips to your wet core, “thought your harder harder ‘Toru harder was you forgiving me,” he lightly chuckled in between kisses.
“You’re the worst,” grumbling as you tightened your arms around his neck, snuggling closer to his warm body.
“Wow, you love me? I’m so touched,” Satoru softly chuckled, gently stroking your heated cheeks as he held you in his arms, he too, soaking in the warmth and feeling the beatings of your heart. 
Your eyes focused on nothing but him despite the chaos around you — just a couple of steps from touching his slumped body,
A loud buzzer goes off, quieting your thoughts, the loud announcement ringing static in your ears. 
“ Sustaining the blow, Gojo Satoru gets back on his feet again! He proves once again on the court he is The Honored One!” 
Two minutes till game —
Head throbbing, and every inch of his body burning from the strain, Satoru vigilantly fought for control of the puck. Every second felt like an eternity, and every stride of his skates felt tortuous as if every fiber of his muscle were being torn apart.
Satoru quickly passes to Haibara, and fastidiously receives the puck again when he's open. Faking a move to juke out his opponent, Satoru was getting closer to Kyoto’s goal. 
It was evident that fatigue was overwhelming each player on the court. With their voices hoarse, and sweat starting to sting their eyes, while puffs of smoke perspired with each agonizing breath causing their lungs to burn in their chest, no one was willing to back down.
Watching from the side while nervously biting your cheeks, you observed the game as Satoru flew through the rink. From the calmness of his eyes, and confidence in his strides, to the quickness of his feet and the gentle care to his game, things started to make sense.
For the man that obnoxiously barged into your life, ruining your pair of white shoes, to managing a spot in your heart, he sure made you fall — hard.
On one random afternoon while you watched him soundly sleep in your arms, lightly drooling as he mumbled something incoherent about some zunda and cream at Sendai Station — loving him came easily.
Because even if you tried running away, your feet would always end up back to him. And you knew the fire that you'll hold for him was going to burn, but you couldn’t resist the flame that he lit in your heart.
“With seconds to the clock, with Gojo Satoru’s lead, the Trailblazers are fighting desperately to win this game!”
Gojo Satoru — with him, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that. 
“The Spartans are putting up a ferocious fight, Geto Suguru tries to steal the puck but is unsuccessful! Ladies and Gentleman, Gojo Satoru goes for the goal —”
Satoru sped his way across, the white tint of his jersey barely recognizable with his speed. The crowd cheers, sirens blow off to the throne the victors of this year’s champions.  
And currently, tears freely flowed down your cheeks. And you let them despite the blur as you rushed onto the rink, the soles of your shoes about to slip on the scratched ice.
Because the saddest word in the world is almost, and he was worth more than being dwindled down to a regretful almost. 
And if you had to defy fate, and create your own ending, so be it. You’ll suffer the consequence of meddling with destiny, and amend for your sins, in the future, when you’re dead if that meant there was a guarantee to have him in the present. 
Because in the world of almost 8 billion people, somehow your worlds are intertwined. 
“Be careful!” He panicked, throwing off his helmet as he rapidly skated over to you, “You’re going to hurt yo—”
Grabbing holding of his jersey, you slammed your lips with his — with thousands in the audience, cameras obnoxiously flashing up the rink in all directions. 
You won’t hear the end of it from Yaga-Sensei, he’s certainly, most definitely mad. 
Your anonymity is fucked, and now everyone will know you as the ‘girl that kissed Gojo Satoru’ — probably will be trending on all socials for at least a week, and that's being generous. 
Maybe you were delusional or so high off adrenaline that you didn’t notice the mayhem surrounding you  — especially not Satoru’s shocked expression when you suddenly kissed him. 
But your ignorant bliss was soon interrupted when you slightly opened your eyes and were met with a thousand flashing lights that almost blinded your vision.
“— oh my god!” you squealed, immediately embarrassed at what you just did, only for Satoru to quickly hide you in his embrace, your face nuzzled into his chest. 
“Looks like I’m not the one that’ll get in trouble by Sensei time,” he teased with his cheek placed on top of your head.
“Get me out of here,” you whined, “I’m so embarrassed…”
“Nah” Satoru cheekily smiled, tightly embracing you, “not until you give me a date.”
“You didn’t make the last shot stupid, Nanami did.”
“False, I assisted,” he stated after briefly calling out for one of his teammates, “If you weren’t so lovestruck by my handsome face, and actually saw my brilliant performance, then you would’ve seen the phenomenal play I had with Nanami.”
“Satoruuuu,” you whined, lightly stomping on your feet, getting increasingly squirmish from all the mess you’ve created.
“Told you,” whispering into your ear, “I’ll always win,” he stated before pushing his helmet over your head, reaching down to hold your hand as he led you out of the rink. The confidence in his walk looked almost arrogant, with you helplessly following, as he made his way to the lockers — a routined celebration after a game now as your boyfriend —
“Because you're my lucky charm, babe.”
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author's note: if you made it to the end, thank you. i didn't expect a silly thought to lead to my distress about creating another au for him. But nonetheless, I hope you've all enjoyed ◡̈
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elfindreams · 1 year
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life has been weird and fucky these past few weeks for reasons I don’t feel like mentioning online but uhhhh hey on the plus side, I won a casual-ish Unmatched tournament at Pax this weekend! I wasn’t even going to participate but a bunch of people signed up and didn’t show so there were openings for replacement players and I got peer-pressured into it, lol.
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b0r3dtod3ath · 25 days
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Hello hi!
Can you do a challengers fic?
Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.
(lots of groveling)
Thank you!
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Thank you for the request!
Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words. 
You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is. 
Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.
You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".
He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.
The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion. 
The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance. 
A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display.  The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to. 
Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down. 
You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night. 
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For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged. 
He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.  
As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around -  a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.
April 29, 2024
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01zfan · 4 months
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argue with you | s. es
valedictorian!eunseok x debate team leader!reader | 6.6k words
a request that i really enjoyed writing. part two here!
contains: academic rivals, semi public shenanigans, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving.)
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you loved debate. you joined it because it was a mix of two things you loved in life, arguing with people and winning. you were grateful that you were able to get close with the people on the debate team too, finding kids your age with such interesting minds. you loved everyone on your debate team and they loved you, so it was no surprise when you were unanimously voted the leader of the debate team. life was perfect on the debate team.
until eunseok joined.
it was a normal day after school, following your friends as you walked in a group to the debate practice room.
“our sponsor said someone new is joining the team.” giselle said to your group.
“this late?” wonbin asked.
“technically the season has barely started. we are still prepping for tournaments.” yunjin said.
your crew was behind you as you opened the door to the debate room. you looked back at them, not expecting anyone to be in the room yet.
“yeah but still. unless he has previous knowledge about debate he will just drag the rest of us down.” you said.
the shocked expression on yunjin’s face told you everything you needed to know. eunseok sat at one of the tables, hearing everything you said about him. 
you didn’t hate eunseok when he first joined. you actually felt pretty bad for making such a terrible first impression. eunseok was also projected to be the valedictorian, you could never bring yourself to hate someone who was so smart. you immediately apologized, saying you didn’t know he was in the room but he said nothing in response. eunseok being indifferent towards you was a first. many gravitated towards you or spoke about you in high regard. being liked came easily for you, so the fact that eunseok couldn’t be bothered irked you to no end.
you were surprised you had never crossed paths with eunseok before. you never had him in any of your classes despite both of you being enrolled in the same curriculum. you didn’t know him, your social circles didn’t collide either. he had joined the debate team late in the semester, wanting a final thing to put on his college applications. you thought it was ridiculous. he was already top of his class what more did he need? 
because eunseok joined the debate team with such high markings he came with an attitude you didn’t like. he was careless, didn’t take notes and always debated in the affirmative. he was novice at best, always trying to take you on in policy debates. at first it was easy to crush him, pointing out his ad populum fallacies and taking advantage of his lack of knowledge. he had it coming, challenging the best debater on the team. he refused to study so you threw the book at him each time, winning your debates with ease. people on your team always watched the arguments. they were ooo’ing and ah’ing as you two fought it out.
you couldn’t help but get even more upset at eunseok remaining nonchalant through every debate. even if he got hit with a penalty or his argument was rebutted he’d let it wash off him like rain, shrugging his shoulders before moving to the next topic. you wanted to best him, you wanted to see him break a sweat.
to your disliking he quickly improved. it was unfair, someone so uninvolved with debate coming in and learning everything with ease. it wasn’t long before he had you struggling to counter his arguments. when he first argued with you in a negative it filled you with rage. how did he get so good? it didn’t help that he swayed the lay judges, his confidence when speaking made the average person who didn’t know about policies believe that eunseok had the answers. his attitude didn’t just win over the lay judges, but also your team. he won them over quickly, they thought he was charismatic and funny.
it wasn’t long until he was voted to be the co-leader of the team and your individual events turned to public forum debates with eunseok as your partner.
“looks like we are going to be getting real close.” eunseok said, looking at your names side by side on the competition sheet.
you scoffed and rolled your eyes. you believe the debate gods had it out for you. everyone else on debate said that you two were the dream team and your probability of winning was high. your probability to win alone was higher, and eunseok would just drag you down.
“just don’t get in my way, eunseok.” you said.
you looked up at the man with the most hate you could muster in your body. you almost felt bad when you saw sadness wash across his face, but it was quickly replaced with his same nonchalant expression. he shrugged his shoulders and put his hand on your tense ones. you got indignant from his touch but he smirked.
“we will do well.” eunseok said simply.
no matter how much you hated to admit it, you two did make a good team. his confidence and talent for public speaking combined with your arguments you two were unbeatable. it wasn’t long before you took your team to nationals for the first time in your school’s history. it was becoming harder and harder to hate eunseok. it turned into a mild disliking that formed because of a misunderstanding. you were determined to keep up appearances, rolling your eyes when he would be mentioned or when he’d put his arm on your shoulder and call you ‘partner’. 
you started to think eunseok liked trying to piss you off. he would always be in your personal space, walking behind you through crowds of people, saying your name constantly, always having that teasing tone to his voice. he was also always stuck to you, following you everywhere especially at debate tournaments. he sat next to you on the bus, lifting up your headphones to talk to you directly in your ear.
“we’re here.” he said.
you snatched your headphones away from him and gave him your best glare. eunseok developed the nasty habit being annoying just to get a rise out of you. some of the only times you’d see him break the calm demeanor he had debating was when he’d smile after telling you a bad joke or stepping on the backs of your shoes. each time you rolled his eyes and he would place his hands on your shoulders. it seemed like his favorite place to be sometimes, shaking you lightly as you shrugged him off.
you get up from the front seat of the bus. your team progressively woke up from their naps. the drive was about an hour and a half. you saw your team yawn and stretch, looking for their things in the seat. you stretch too, turning around getting ready to read the itenerary and the list for debates today.
“everyone pay attention.” eunseok said from his seat beside you.
no one told eunseok to sit next to you on the bus. you assumed it became an unspoken rule, the leader and co-leader sitting side by side. you considered this to be a plus as well, just in case you wanted to go over anything with eunseok before the tournament. you two rarely spoke on the bus ride to competitions though. it would always be a surprisingly not awkward silence.
eunseok didn’t have to raise his voice to get everyone to listen to him. you envied that about him, his ability to command a room. all eyes are on you as you clear your throat. 
“okay everyone. first and foremost, happy debate day.” you say smiling
“happy debate day!” everyone says back it back to you in unison. 
everyone cheers and you look at the clipboard with the debate assignments.
“okay so for our IE’s we have giselle, yeji, and anton.”
eunseok watches you read off their names like a teacher doing roll call. giselle, yeji, and anton all give you a nod after hearing their name to show they heard you. eunseok watched as you went down the list of names on the paper, quickly scanning for to see who would be debating. eunseok lingered on your furrowed eyebrow for a split second before brushing a piece of hair out of his face.
“for our policy debates we have our freshmen duos eunchae bahiyyih and kyujin jiwoo. this is their first national competition ever.” you exclaim and so does the rest of the bus. everyone cheers for the four girls, sinking in their backseats giggling.
“it’s a busy day for all of us but if you can please sit in on their debate to silently cheer them on.” you emphasis silently to look at eunseok. 
he shrugs his shoulders and the bus giggles. how was he supposed to know he wasn’t allowed to clap after a good argument? 
“we have yunjin running as support so don’t be afraid to run your notes by her, especially our IE’s.” you say, pointing your hand towards yunjin.
yunjin raises her hand from her seat in the middle to show everyone where she is. you rack your mind trying to think what other operational things you can say. you tap tap the clipboard against your hand, trying to see if the sound can rattle your mind enough to remember other things.
“don’t be afraid to approach the senior members of the team if you need help. also please travel in pairs if you’re going to the restroom. lunch is at 12:30 in the cafeteria. we will also get our room assignments for the hotel tonight so please be don’t skip it. oh, and our sponsor and chaperones are here too, they just arrived a little earlier to set up. everyone has their numbers right?” you ask.
everyone on the bus gives you the affirmative. you set your clipboard down at your side, almost done with your piece.
“this is our first nationals our school has ever been to so lets have fun and let’s win.”
you say your final line expecting cheers. everyone on the bus smiles or looks at you expectantly waiting to say something. 
you’re about to ask what’s wrong until you see eunchae’s hand in the back row seat raise. you look to her and you can see several people holding back laughs. you look to your side and see eunseok’s shameless toothy grin.
“eunchae what’s up?” you ask. 
you hear little concealed laughs. eunchae does her best at hiding a smile from her face.
“who’s doing the public forum debate?” eunchae asks.
her four friends all laugh and you can feel your face getting hot. you clear your throat, trying to show you’re unbothered.
“oh. for our public forum debate it’s eunseok and i.” you say. 
you don’t know why you sound bashful, or why eunseok looks down with a smile on his face. you try to say not funny but your voice is drowned out when the bus erupts in ooh la la’s and almost paradise’s. you hide behind your clipboard and eunseok takes the lead, standing up beside you.
“don’t worry about us. we got this win, right partner?” eunseok asks. 
you shrug him off again as people file off the bus, taking their name badges from you. when it’s just you and eunseok left you nearly push him back down in the seat with the amount of force you put behind giving him his name tag. eunseok takes the tag silently and he moves backwards further into the bus so you can get off first.
“don’t feed into it, please.” you say. 
your eyes are trained on the clipboard, rereading names and debate times over and over again. eunseok walks behind you closely, like a mother watching her child walk through a parking lot. he picks up his speed so he can stand beside you. eunseok contemplates something, his normal pace of walking falters for only a second. he then speeds past you, joining the rest of the team as they enter the school building. you follow behind them, confused as to why your heart dropped when eunseok didn’t try to crack a joke at your expense. 
you watched him all day. your debate didn’t start until after lunch, so you served as a mentor for the other events happening before you. you gave the freshmen tips on what to say during a debate, knowing your arguments strengths and weaknesses to make your arguments more solid. they gathered in your information with open ears, running things they were going to say by you just to double check the validity of their arguments. you watched eunchae nod her head enthusiastically as she made notes in the margins of her clipboard. 
when you were done talking to them, you could see those same people going to eunseok. you wondered what they were talking about, until you saw eunseok show them posture and how to give facial expressions to help sway the lay men. in the middle of eunseok showing bahiyyih how to calm her nerves he looked up and locked eyes with you. any other time you would’ve rolled your eyes at eunseok, continuing with whatever you were saying. but this time you found yourself being cut off mid-sentence, suddenly looking down with a smile on your face.
because of your free schedule, you were able to go to almost all of the events your team was involved in. it started with the freshmen girls, kyujin and jiwoo went first. they did well, taking your advice on the notes you gave them. you watched them give good rejection speeches to the policy proposed by the other team. you knew the kyujin and jiwoo would do well, they both had siblings who were involved in debate. so when they won it didn’t come as a surprise. you gave them a big thumbs up from the back of the room and the at the pair smiled at you. when you got up to congratulate them, you saw that eunseok was sitting in the front of the debate hall. he must have been there for the whole thing.
you don’t know why it surprised you. eunseok was only competing in one event like you were, so he had all day free too. it just seemed like it was out of his character to sit in and cheer for another team, especially since you had asked the debate team to stop by if they could. you don’t know if it surprised you more that eunseok was listening attentively or that he came to the back of the lecture hall and sat by you while they got ready for eunchae and bahiyyih’s debate.
“don’t be nervous. they got this,” eunseok said. “they have a good teacher.”
you turned to look at him but he wasn’t looking at you. eunseok’s eyes were trained on the stage while volunteers set up the tables for the next debate. you smile and lean back in the seat.
“you get it.” you say smugly. 
you can practically hear eunseok roll his eyes at you. he laughs lightly and you smile too. you don’t know you smile, or why teasing eunseok makes you feel a little sheepish. you’re grateful that a few people come from your team and sit by the two of you. you can only watch the first half of the debate before you and eunseok have to leave for your public forum debate.
the team wishes you luck and you ask them to stay to cheer on eunchae and bahiyyih. they listen to you, saying they’ll join in the later half if possible. you nod and leave, eunseok following behind you closely. to exit the lecture hall you had to climb a few stairs. you tried to ignore eunseok’s presence behind you, his hand ghosting the small of your back ready to catch you if you fall. 
“i got it.” you said. 
your words didn’t have the usual bite they had. you sounded shy if anything. eunseok tsked behind you, his hand falling back slightly but still there.
“okay princess.” he says mockingly. 
the nickname is what causes you to almost trip over the steps as you exit the hall.
the trek to the debate hall is a quiet one. the silence wasn’t awkward, sometimes you preferred that so you could collect your thoughts before a debate. eunseok was the opposite—usually the chatty type. eunseok would be talking about random things not even pertaining to the debate and he would be pestering you with questions. it did help sometimes, easing the stress you felt. but this competition was important, so you wanted to lock in and focus.
eunseok watched you pace back and forth in the hallway. you would occasionally mumble something to yourself, probably some talking point you wanted to drill into your mind. eunseok reviewed all his notes the night before and on the bus ride while you slept. looking at his notes the day before helped him more than your method. he enjoyed watching you, though. the way you walked back and forth with your furrowed eyebrows, practicing your expressions. it was like eunseok was able to get a peak into your inner thoughts and the way your mind worked. over the course of the preseason he was able to learn some of your ticks as well. he saw you take your bottom lip between two fingers, a telltale sign that. you were nervous. 
eunseok cleared his throat, reminding you that he was there. you looked at him with a little bit of softness, waiting for him to say something. he loved when you looked at him with a little tenderness. eunseok would never admit he liked debating with you so much because in these moments he got to see you be a little bit vulnerable. the anxiety before a debate wore down your iron resolve just a little and eunseok basked in it.
“are you ready?” eunseok asked.
“i’m a little nervous. this determines if we advance in the season.” you said.
eunseok nodded his head knowingly. he didn’t want to make a big deal out of comforting you, afraid that if he was too comforting the soft look in your eyes would disappear.
“we got this. all preseason you crushed it.” eunseok said.
“could i have even done it without you?” you said. 
eunseok was taken aback by your words. you were never the type to vocalizes insecurity, especially when it came to debate. eunseok couldn’t stop his hand from going to your shoulder. your eyes grew wide before you got ahold of your expression, trying to seem as calm as possible.
“you absolutely destroy everyone in the district in independent events. i’m sure they have you in public forum so you can have more variety on your resume.” eunseok said.
eunseok watched the lightbulb go off in your head.
“i had never considered that.” you said queitly.
eunseok shrugged and took his hand off your shoulder, despite his mind begging him to keep it there. he put his hands in his pockets to ball his fists up.
“we got this. you are super smart and knowledgable about the topic.” eunseok says, face feeling hot.
before you can thank him, the assistant moderator comes outside. she motions you two into the debate hall.
the debate goes by smoothly. eunseok is the best at delivering opening statements. his tone and body language helps accurately portray what you want the audience and laymen understand. his opening statements also give you time to collect your thoughts, calming any anxiety you may have. although you were opposed to sharing the debate floor with someone, eunseok really does help calm you down. you find yourself leaning on him during some parts of the debate, and it’s comforting to see him lean on you too. you both truly do make an excellent team, coming together for the common purpose of winning. 
there’s some sort of tension that begins to build during the end of the debate. after refuting an inaccuracy in the opposing teams argument, you find yourself looking to eunseok so he can give you a look that says “good job”. you even let him challenge a claim and watching him proudly as he calls out a fallacy you would call him out for during practice. eunseok smiles each time you smile at him.
when you two are announced as winners eunseok pulls you into a hug. the relief from winning the first competition of the season has you hugging him back. when you two pull away it’s a little awkward. eunseok helps put the medal on your head and you helps him too.
you two leave the debate hall to your team waiting to congratulate you. they say they didn’t doubt you would win, and you smile at all of them. you smile extra hard at eunseok and the way he praises you in front of your whole team. you take a picture together, biting your medals like it’s made of real gold. you feel eunseok’s hand rest on the small of your back while taking the photo, and you let him wrap an arm. around you waist as you two hold up your pointer finger. 
if anyone in your team noticed the tension they say nothing. but you can feel it growing between the two of you. you both sit at a table helping the rest of the team with their events before lunch when giselle comes up to you. 
she asks for a spare clipboard, folders, and to bring the papers the printed from the copy machine. going into the storage room is something that only leaders of the team are allowed to do. it helps prevent overcrowding or people going into the storage room that aren’t supposed to. giselle also needs to go over everything with yunjin, running to grab supplies would just take away from her precious prep time.
“i’ll go with you,” eunseok says. “just in case you have trouble reaching something.”
in any other instance you would’ve given him your signature scowl and ignore him. you don’t know you laugh at the comment, no one at your table does. they look at you like you’ve grown an extra head, cracking a smile at one of eunseok’s terrible jokes. you get ahold of yourself and start walking away, letting him follow you.
eunseok follows behind you, reeling off the fact he made you laugh. the silence you two had was a little awkward now, and you silently curse yourself for laughing.
inside of the storage room is cramped to say the least. the archaic printer takes up a majority of the space, and an even older wooden table sits in front of it. you wait for the million papers giselle printed out in complete silence. eunseok’s height actually was useful, grabbing the folders and clipboard on the very top shelf.
“good job today.” eunseok says.
you look at him only for a split second before going back to looking at the papers come from the printer.
“you too, eunseok. you’re really good at pointing out fallacies now.” you say.
“well that’s all thanks to you.” eunseok says.
it’s so cramped in the storage room he hits something as he brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. you smile and shake your head.
“no that’s all you. you’re a fast learner.” you say.
“only because you pushed me to be.” eunseok laughs. “i know you hate me for joining so late and you think i don’t care about debate but i worked really hard to be good at it because of you.”
eunseok doesn’t know why he’s rambling off at the mouth going crazy with praising you. he finally gets you to look at him from the printer though. you have that same soft look you had outside of the debate hall.
“i don’t hate you, eunseok.” you protest. “i thought you hated me because of what i said when you first joined.”
eunseok shakes his head and laughs a little 
“i was never mad about that. i understood where you were coming from completely.”
the printer finishes its job while you and eunseok look at eachother. you can’t believe you spent this whole time thinking he hated you while it was all a misunderstanding. you feel embarrassed now, after all the times you were mean to him for no reason.
“i’m sorry.” you say sincerely.
“me too.” eunseok says back.
you two are silent and you go back to looking at the copy machine. eunseok clears his throat and you look at him. his expression had changed from a sorry one to a smirk. he leans against the large table and crosses his arms.
“you know, this whole time i thought you were being mean. but was it just flirting?” eunseok says.
you visibly stiffen at his comment. you turn to him wide eyed and in shock, eunseok looks at you with his mouth slightly open, proud of the reaction he’s able to pull from you.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say, still wide eyed. 
eunseok slowly closes the space between the two of you. you suddenly are very aware of everything about him. the way he looks down at you. his hands, his mouth, his eyes. he’s so close to you it leaves nothing to imagination.
“it’s okay. do you know why i joined the debate team?” eunseok says.
he’s right in front of you now, and you can smell his cologne. you never realized how tall he was as he looked down at you. you shook your head, trying to find your voice. eunseok cocks an eyebrow and you clear your throat.
“for college applications?” you say meekly.
eunseok shakes his head.
“why would i need anything else on my college application?” eunseok asks.
“i don’t know.” you said.
“i actually joined because of this girl on the team i wanted to get to know better. so unfortunate i didn’t have a single class with her after all these years.” eunseok says.
you sit there and stare at eunseok. he just confessed to joining the team solely to get to know you better. now all the doting and teasing makes sense, but you still can’t believe it.
you’re in disbelief still when eunseok puts his hand underneath your chin to tip your head upwards. you are in disbelief when eunseok puts his lips on yours. you don’t know what comes over you when you pull at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. you suddenly can’t get enough of him, you want him all over you. you want to hear him praise you a million times over. you want to hear him call you a princess again. you stick your tongue into his mouth and he does the same to you.
both of your minds and bodies operate at a million miles a minute, focused solely on feeling everything. eunseok pulls you in closer, arching his body over yours. it feels like he’s going to swallow you whole the way he towers over your frame. you feel like your set on fire when eunseok’s hand goes to your ass and you jump up. he catches you with ease.
your body’s bump into almost every structure in the storage closet. you can feel your back press against the large printer and you can hear it being bumped into as eunseok turns you around. his hand leaves your body for only a second while he clears things off of the table. you hear clipboards, papers, and other office supplies hit the ground as eunseok sets you on top of the table gently.
eunseok pulls away from your lips. he looks at you and you look at him. for just a second it is completely silent in the storage room as you two stare at one another. you see out of the corner of your eye eunseok’s chest is heaving. you both give the other a chance to leave, a chance to profusely apologize for kissing. you stay on top of the table and look at eunseok’s pouting lips, hoping he gets the hint.
eunseok brings you in again with his hand underneath your chin leading you. it is softer than the first time, eunseok looking at your lips before they connect. he instantly deepens the kiss and you guys fight for a second trying to decide who gets to lead the other. you relinquish control to eunseok when you can feel him mess with the waistband of your pants. you let him undo the belt and the buttons. you do the same to him, using your shaking hands to pull down the zipper of his dress pants.
eunseok’s slacks drop to his ankles the same time he puts his hand underneath the waistband of your panties. eunseok uses his free hand to pull you closer to the edge of the table, for better access to you. eunseok wastes no time and you don’t either, not even bothering to pull down his boxers. you both put your hands to eachother at the same time, gasping into the kiss. eunseok pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. his mouth is still slightly open and so is yours, letting out long sighs as you guys slowly figure out what the other wants. eunseok teases your folds and you wrap your hands around his twitching dick. you both give one more look, this is your last chance to pull back from him. eunseok sticks a finger in you and you start slowly stroking him. eunseok looks away from you first, muttering a curse word as he puts his face in the crook of your neck. he presses his lips to your neck and suddenly you want him to leave a mark. 
you turn your head to face his as you pick up the speed of your hand. everything is rushed and you want to go as far as you can before the severity of the situation hits you. eunseok must feel the same way because he puts another finger inside of you. 
“you smell so good.” eunseok says.
he still stays in the crook of your neck and other hand has moved to your back. eunseok’s hand on your back alternates between moving up and down, pulling you closer to him, and grasping at your clothes like he can’t decide how he wants to hold you. you just let out a tiny sigh in response to him, scared to speak. if you say something it might snap eunseok out of whatever trance he’s in right now, and you are selfishly enjoying the way he bends his fingers inside of you.
“you’re so pretty.” eunseok says.
eunseok’s compliment was so quiet you truly don’t think you were meant to hear it. you convince yourself that he is just saying things in the heat of the moment. you don’t say anything back to eunseok, just pick up the pace of your hand. 
you can hear the table shake and slightly give underneath your weight. the creaking sound of the table mixes with the sloppy sounds of eunseok’s fingers inside of you and the wet sound of you jerking eunseok. his precum makes the job easy, you can feel it coming from his tip and lubricating his shaft. his dick is thick and heavy in your hand. you stop the intrusive thought of wondering what his dick looks like inside of his boxers. you wonder if his dick is as hot as the sounds he’s trying to muffle in your neck. you never took him for the whiny type, his sighs and quiet moans coming out in a higher pitch. eunseok pulls himself away from your neck to look down between the two of you.
eunseok is enthralled by the sight. he has never seen anyone like you, he’s never felt anything like this. he would’ve never thought he’d be here, trying to coax pretty little moans from your throat using his fingers. he wants to show you how good he is at this, but the situation and the way you look at him makes his hands unsteady. he’s positive he’s missing your clit and failing to hit those spots deep inside of you. he wishes he could take your pants off to really get inside of you and to see it all. but for now eunseok settles for fighting against the fabric of your wet panties pressed to the back of his hand as he fingers you. when you bring your head into his chest and pick up the pace he becomes more confident, doing the same action over and over again until your quiet moans become more frequent. eunseok can’t hold back his smile when your free hand grips the bicep of the hand that’s inside of you, digging nails into his skin.
“keep going.” you say breathlessly.
eunseok doesn’t falter and seeing you experience pleasure heightens his own. he can feel himself getting harder in your hand.
“i’m close.” eunseok says.
“me too. please don’t stop.” you whine into his chest.
eunseok brings you even closer to the edge of the table and you clench around him. you’re so close that you prepare yourself to bury your head into his sweater vest so your moans can’t be heard outside. 
“fuck. just like that.” eunseok says.
you keep up the pace of your hand. your nails dig deeper into eunseok’s skin. his hold on your lower back tighten.
you still have eunseok in your hand and he still has his fingers inside of you when the alarm on your phone goes off. the sudden blaring sound rips you both out of your reverie, and eunseok nearly jumps away from you.
you and eunseok stay like that for only a moment. something in the air of the storage room shifts almost immediately as you both start comprehending the situation. both of your eyes widen as you look up at him and he looks down at you.
eunseok suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and you take your hand out of his boxers. your shaking hands bring the zipper of your pants up, and you can hear eunseok fumble with his slacks as he brings them back up to his waist. he moves in such a rush that he stumbles backwards, bumping into the copy machine. in any other situation you would’ve been laughing at him for being so clumsy. but now you have a mission of getting out as soon as possible, your face heating up unbelievably fast.
when your pants are on you hop off the table and grab your phone to turn off the alarm. you see several messages and calls from people on the debate team asking where you are and congratulations on your win.
“i have to go now before lunch starts.” you say.
“yeah.” eunseok says.
“i’ll see you there.” you say after a long pause.
“yeah.” eunseok says.
neither of you look at the other as your faces get even hotter. eunseok messes with his belt over and over again. you dust off your pants and adjust your clothes a million times. the tension in the closest is thick, you think you may choke on it if you don’t leave soon. you focus on everything but eunseok. you’re sure you look disheveled but it is the least of your worries. you can pop into a bathroom before heading to lunch.
you leave eunseok in the storage closet alone without looking back. the whole way to the bathroom you are looking behind you, making sure no one saw you go in there. 
eunseok doesn’t leave the storage room for another five minutes after you leave. the moment you closed the door behind you eunseok crouched down the floor trying to. figure out what the hell just happened. he was still throbbing in his pants and his fingers smelled like your heat. he was so incredibly confused and out of breath he had to spend time to regain his bearings. he set up his phone to fix his mussed hair and ruffled slacks. he cleans up the storage room too, grabbing the supplies giselle had asked for.
eunseok for some reason expected you to be outside of the storage room waiting for him. he swallowed what felt like a lump in his throat as he started making his way towards the cafeteria.
you try to eat the sandwiches brought to you by the chaperones but you are too focused on what situation you were in not even ten minutes ago.  you could only manage to take a few bites before you realized you’re not hungry. you let the people at your table pick off of your food like vultures.
you don’t even dare to try and look at eunseok from across the room. after coming from the bathroom he was already there, he must have came straight there after leaving the storage room.
your hand is still sticky from him and every time you move you get the faintest smell of eunseok. you can feel his scent all over you, lingering and ominous like a storm cloud. you pray no one else can see how flustered you are.
after lunch is over the team still remains to get room assignments. you are so checked out mentally you don’t know what’s happening until you hear your group start protesting about the arrangement.
“why do they get their own rooms?” you hear eunchae ask.
“because they’re the captains and senior members of the team. also you guys signed up for these rooms.” the chaperone says.
you and eunseok are the only ones taking a solo room. something about an uneven number of boys and girls and it worked out in your favor. you need to be able to have a room to yourself so you can pace around and think about what happened in that storage room. you take your keycard and a spare just in case, sliding it in your wallet. everyone in your team floats to who their assigned with for tonight.
“we have few more debates for the day, but everyones schedule is clear for the independent events. let’s all support the three competing in that event.” you hear your sponsor say.
after eating, everyone in your teams throws away the trash and cleans the table, leaving the space cleaner than when you two arrived. you end up falling behind the rest of the group as they head towards the debate room. you’re double checking to make sure all the tables are clean and nothing was left behind when you see eunseok walking right towards you. you desperately try to look busy, wiping nonexistent crumbs off the tables. in your mind, if you don’t see eunseok he won’t see you. but he does see you, he always has. 
eunseok comes up to you and you have no choice but to look at him. you get shy, focusing on the button up of his debate uniform. you are counting all the buttons on his shirt over and over again when you feel him slide something in the back pocket of your pants. you look up ti him with wide eyes, and his demeanor is calm. 
“if you want to talk about what happened lights out is at 8:30. i’m in room 31.” eunseok says to you.
you don’t even get the chance to say anything to him. as soon as he’s done talking he’s gone, jogging to catch up with the rest of the debate team. you stand at the table frozen solid. when you reach to your back pocket you can feel the undeniable shape and feel of a plastic keycard.
it was going to be a long night.
798 notes · View notes
thewritingrowlet · 29 days
Text
The Grand Prize, ft. tripleS Yoon Seoyeon
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tags: male reader, first time anal, creampie, anal creampie, raw
word count: 8k+, almost 9k
author's note: the smut in this story is split into two parts with some basketball plot in between. Hope you like it! :D
p.s. I slipped an inside joke made with @praeluxius' username, so prael if you see this <3
It is December, you’ve been dating Seoyeon for over 3 months now; it has been a very fun and healthy relationship even though you have been spending less time with her despite living together as your schedules don’t really match hers; you’ve been busy with the basketball team as its captain and year 3 classes while Seoyeon has found a new busyness with the student council— “I want to continue my student council career, oppa”, she had told you after the Freshers’ Week. Not many know about your relationship, apart from your teammates and some friends of hers, as you both have agreed to keep things to yourselves. Your teammates were surprised that you have a girlfriend considering how long you’d been single, while Seoyeon’s friends thought that it was crazy that she managed to steal the basketball team’s captain’s heart and started dating him so soon. Honestly, you still can’t believe the way life has been turning out recently, but you’re ecstatic to see what else might turn up for you and Seoyeon.
[🐶❤️| 17:08]
Oppa, I’m going home after this meeting
What about you?
Have you eaten btw? I can bring some sandwich if you want
She texts you as you’re getting ready for warmup. Might as well reply now since you won’t have the chance to for the next few hours, not forgetting to apologize since you’re probably coming home late.
[🏀| 17:09]
I have practice, luv, will come home late
No need to wait if you want to sleep first
I had some noodles earlier, should be enough
Seoyeon hates you for not eating enough, so you make sure to not skip meals especially on the days when you have practice. She’s even brought you some food to eat before practicing before, which was how your teammates found out you had a girlfriend. She also made you eat in front of her, refusing to leave before you finish the food and return the box to her to bring home. You’re thankful for her attention and god-tier cooking but this habit of yours is really hard to rid, “baby, I love your food but I’m just not hungry at the moment”, you’ve told her once, to which she responded by pouting and looking rejected.
[🐶❤️| 17:09]
Okay, oppa
See you at home
Don’t get hurt
Luv u much
Her texts, no matter how simple, always give you a boost of energy and motivation, and with that, you’re taking on practice with excitement.
It is now a few minutes to 9pm and your team is wrapping up tonight’s practice. You’ve been practicing seemingly tirelessly for a few hours and your limbs are on fire thanks to the different drills your team has been doing. Coach Park has been increasing the frequency and intensity of the practices as the university is aiming for a top 3 finish under your captaincy in the upcoming national tournament; “we believe that you can lead us deep into the playoffs, captain”, the dean told you on Monday before practice, putting expectant pressure on your shoulders. You don’t have to worry about motivating your teammates since everyone knows how prestigious this tournament is but as the captain, you’re the one with the heaviest burden; everyone (including your beloved Seoyeon) will be counting on you throughout the tournament. You promise Coach Park, your team, and yourself that you’re going to give this run everything you have: “it’s ours, guys, believe that”, you tell them as the closing words for tonight’s practice.
You call an Uber after showering because you don’t feel like walking to your apartment after that exhausting practice. A few minutes of Uber ride later, you’re now at the front door of your apartment. As you’re entering the password, you hear footsteps from the inside, most likely Seoyeon’s as she’s running to greet you at the door.
“Oppa, you’re home! Welcome home!”, she says, the excitement obvious in her voice. “Yes, baby, I’m home. Sorry for coming home so late”, you say as you hug her and kiss her head. She presses her face on your shoulder, hugging you tight, “I know you’ve been working hard for the team and I’m proud of you, oppa, but I also miss you so much. Can we have a date soon? Maybe in the next few days? I-I hope th-that’s not too selfish of me”. Your heart sinks at the realization: you’ve been so busy with class and basketball that you’ve forgotten to make time for your lovely girlfriend. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t have classes or practice tomorrow; what do you say we have a little date at home? I can try and cook for us”, you say to her, hoping for a chance to make it up to her. She then looks up to look at you, her eyes hopeful that you’ll come through with your promise. “Okay, oppa. I’ll get home as soon as I can tomorrow. I’m curious what you’ll cook for me”, and with that, your date is set; you’re going to create your parents-approved spicy honey grilled chicken and fried rice for her and (hopefully) blow her mind with it.
-
A new day has arrived, the morning sun is beaming at you through your windows, but your sunshine is still in dreamland; “Seoyeon, baby, wake up. You have classes, don’t you?”, you say softly to wake her up. “Ngh what time is it?”, she says while gathering her soul after her deep slumber. “It’s almost 8, baby. I’ll run the shower for you so sit still for a bit, okay?”, you peck her lips as you get off the bed to prepare the shower for her. When you return from the bathroom, you see her peeking at you from under the covers, “any spoilers for today, oppa?”, she asks you, the covers muffling her voice a bit. “Of course, sweetie, it’ll be sweet and spicy”, you tell her as you get into bed to kiss her; you’d like to think that a kiss in the morning is like kick-starting a person, and that’s definitely the case for Seoyeon. After showering, Seoyeon leaves for campus half-running to avoid being late; “see you later, oppa. Love you”, she says, before giving you a peck and running out the door.
-
The clock now shows 15 minutes to 3pm, you have just over 2 hours to prepare the dishes. You start by taking the chicken out of the fridge and making the sauce mix for the grilled chicken. After glazing it for the first time, you throw it on the grill and let it cook, brushing more sauce as it goes so that the flavors can really seep into the chicken. Once they’re done cooking, you put them to the side to free up the space to make fried rice. For the fried rice, you start by tossing in some of your mom’s pre-made seasoning base into the flaming hot wok. Once that’s nice and fragrant, you throw in some diced chicken and let it get cooked before you mix in some well-beaten eggs. You then add in some salt, sugar, MSG (is it really fried rice without MSG?), sweet soy sauce, and hot sauce to give the fried rice its flavors. With about 20 minutes to spare before Seoyeon gets home, you’re finally finished and decide to take a shower first.
-
“Oppa, I’m home—what is this smell? It smells crazy good!”, she says as she enters the apartment, heading straight to the dining table. “Welcome home, baby, how was your day? I made you some spicy honey grilled chicken and fried rice—all using the recipes my parents approve of”, you welcome her into a hug and peck her forehead. “My day has been great, oppa, and it’s only getting better. Thanks for the meal!”, she says, getting a chicken thigh and some fried rice. You take a seat at the table and dig in together, “you like it, love?”, “this is soooo goooood, oppa. Didn’t know you were this good at cooking, what happened?”, she says with a full mouth. “I’d like to think I’m decent at cooking. I came up with this grilled chicken recipe when I was in high school, I’m glad that you like it”. It is one of those moments where the food is so good, you can’t help but enjoy it in silence because you’re just blown away by the taste, so the both of you just shut up and keep eating until the end of the meal.
-
You two get ready for sleep after cleaning everything up. You see her put on one of your T-shirts and a pair of shorts— “guess I’m not getting lucky tonight”, you think to yourself. As if hearing your thoughts, she notifies you, “I’m on my period today, oppa. I’m sorry”. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetie. I would be more concerned if weren’t having your periods”, you assure her as you pull her into the bed. “But-but I should reward you for the meal”, she says as she palms your crotch, making you hard instantly. “Baby, please, when did it become an effort-reward relationship, hm? There’s nothing I’m asking you to do other than to cuddle and sleep next to me. That’s not too selfish of me, is it?”, you say to her while pulling her into a hug even though your cock is rock hard and ready for some action. “You’re always so sweet, oppa. Thank you for being so kind to me all the time. Will you be okay, though?”, “you deserve the best of me all the time, sweetie, and yes I’ll be okay”.
-
The rest of the month went by rapidly for you. Your team has been spanking your opponents left and right, breezing past round of 32, round of 16, and quarterfinal before anyone realized what had happened. “Alright, men. I know we’ve been dominating our opponents so far, but it’s only getting harder from this point onwards. We need to be in the right mindset and condition for it”, Coach Park said in the locker room after the quarterfinal. “Since the semifinal is on Saturday, I’ll see you all on Thursday for practice and we’ll rest on Friday. We’re going to practice some designed and after-timeout plays”, the coach continued.
The coach came through with his words: your team has been spending the last 2,5 hours running various plays designed for different players, including yourself. Coach Lee, one of the assistant coaches, has personally put together a handful of mid- and long-range scoring plays to create as many opportunities as possible for you. You’re worried that maybe the upcoming opponent has picked up all the tendencies that your team has—such as going through you heavily to score—but you can only hope that things will work as planned.
-
Saturday morning, it is. You wake up at around the usual time, while Seoyeon is still sound asleep. You didn’t do anything much last night since you were absolutely drained from Thursday’s practice. You look at the sleeping beauty: she seems to be in peace at the moment, sleeping oh-so-cutely on her side of the bed while being covered with a blanket up to her neck. After giving her a peck on the forehead, you get off the bed and head to the bathroom to take a shower. Your team don’t need to travel too much today since the stadium for semifinal and final is only 15 minutes away from campus, so you’re not running as tight on schedule as for the previous games. When you get out of the shower, Seoyeon is already awake. She’s leaning against the headboard while scrolling mindlessly through her phone. “Mmh? Good morning, oppa”, she says when she sees you, arms reaching out for a hug. “Good morning, baby. Are you going to watch the game today?”, you ask her while hugging her and showering her with pecks. “I am, oppa. I’ll be sitting pretty close to the court, so look at me every now and then, okay? Good luck, captain. I love you”, she says to you as she pulls out of the hug.
-
Here you are, just under 3 minutes, says the countdown timer on that big ass TV in front of you, before the semifinal starts. You can hear the crowd’s excitement from deep in the tunnel, ready to support their favorite team in the upcoming game. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and focus up. Turn to your team, time to fire them up: “let’s go, boys, we’re so close now. Let’s win this, alright? Win on 3: 1, 2, 3!”. After firing them up, a match committee personnel gives you a flag in the university color with the logo in the center of it, “this is new”, you think. As you take the flag from him, the arena announcer is yelling the team names and gets replied with loud noises from the crowd. Before you walk out, you make sure you look as cool as possible by leaning the flagpole against your right shoulder and putting on a cold face. Once the guy gives you the signal to go in, your team and the other start walking out to the court. You stand in the center of the 5 starters of your team, right under the rim. Before the ceremony ends, you want to look for Seoyeon so you can find her easier during the game, “you see my girlfriend, bro?”, you whisper to your teammate next to you. “Hmm let’s see—oh, behind the other team’s bench, I think. Is that her?”, he points to show you, so you look closely at the area he’s pointing at; and there she is, wearing one of your old jerseys that she probably found in the wardrobe. You give her a little out-of-character wink to acknowledge her presence and she winks back so cutely, making your heart rate jump.
-
After the first quarter of the game, it becomes obvious that the opposing team is more organized in terms of defending and adjusting to your team’s offense. You’ve been decent, though, putting up 9 points of your team’s 22 through the first quarter. Coach Lee tells you that you shouldn’t be too fazed by their defense since they’re going to get more lenient as the game goes on due to exhaustion from defending so intensely.
Another 10 minutes of playing have finished and now you’re in the locker room to have more conversations on how to adjust to the current state of the game. True enough, they’ve gotten more laid back with their defense, letting you take 4 shots, which you made 3 of, from the 3-pt area. However, they’ve also gotten hotter with their shot making, trailing by less than 8 points the whole quarter. The plan for Q3, Coach Park says, is for you to be more active on defense, especially around the perimeter, and play a more relaxed role on offense since you’ve got a bunch of points in the bag already.
Since you’re starting Q3 from the bench, you have some time to catch up with Seoyeon who’s now on your side of the court. You look up to say hi and get some motivation from her. “Oppa, you’re so good! They’ve let you score so many times this game, oppa!”, she says, the excitement and fascination flowing out of her lips freely with every word said. “I’m just following the plan the coaches have set up, love. I’ll be playing less intensely on offense, though. I’ll show you what defense is”, you tell her, your confidence through the roof. With less than 4 minutes left in the quarter, Coach Park subs you into the game— “great job, man”, you tell your teammate as he’s coming to the sideline, “shut these guys down, man”, your teammate says before grabbing a towel and sitting down. So, you do just that; you chase your assignments around the court on man-to-man defense, diligently switching back and forth with your teammates to prevent unfavorable matchups. Before you know it, the buzzer sounds, indicating the end of the 3rd quarter.
It is now the 4th quarter, the last 10 minutes of playing to secure a top 2 finish. Your team has an okay-ish lead of 10 entering the last quarter. The plan is to widen the gap by shutting down the opponent on defense while looking for easy scores on the other end, taking advantage of the fact that they’re tired despite being tired yourselves. You try your best to not look at Seoyeon this quarter so that her cheering doesn’t distract you from doing your job in the dying embers of the game. Your plan doesn’t last too long, though, as you scream in her general direction after forcing a turnover. You see her jumping up and down as she cheers for you, looking as fired up as you are about the defensive play. With this comfortable lead, it’s only a matter of time until the game ends and you’re sent to the final stage, fighting for fame and glory one last time this year. True enough, the final buzzer sounds loudly, and with it, the crowd’s emotions are divided; those who root for your team are screaming in joy, while the others are on their knees following the loss. “Hey, man. You did well, I’m sorry that it had to end like this. Let’s get on our feet, eh?”, you say to an opponent, pulling him up to his feet and hugging him—the feeling of losing while being so close to the goal is all too familiar to you.
After exchanging some motivations and talking to some people, it’s time to head into the locker room. Before you do, though, you look at Seoyeon who’s smiling and clapping her hands. She gives you a seductive wink and a lip bite while putting a hand over her crotch, mouthing “I’m yours tonight” to you. You can’t afford to get a boner right now, so you look away as soon as she’s done signaling to you and head into the locker room to celebrate the win and talk to the coaches.
-
You arrive at your apartment after taking a shower and chatting with a bunch of people about preparing for the final game. As you enter the bedroom, you see Seoyeon sitting on the edge of the bed, her body wrapped in a bath robe, “hi, oppa, welcome home. Did you catch what I said before you head into the tunnel?”, she asks, her hands getting ready to take the robe off. “I think I did”, you say before whispering in her ear, “you said you’re mine tonight, didn’t you?”, your deep voice sending shivers down her spine. “That is correct, oppa, so—", she says as she takes off the robe and kneels in front of you, “—do what you wish to me”, she adds, her mouth open and ready to take your shaft. You immediately drop everything you’re carrying on the floor along with your sweatpants and boxers and plunge deep into the warmth that is her mouth. She gags loudly and closes her eyes as she feels your tip hit the back of her throat. You lift her chin to look into her eyes; they tell you that she is so deep in the sea of lust, she might as well start drowning. You start thrusting in and out of her mouth, forcing her to take you deep into her mouth and making her gag every time. You want to turn it up a notch, though, “I want to try something else”, you say to her as you lie her on the bed, her head hanging off the edge, “You know where this is going, baby. Open”, you tell her before thrusting into her from a different position. You can’t help but let out groans and deep moans as you stuff her throat with your cock while playing with her tits. One last time before pulling out, you stick your cock deep in her throat and hold it there for a few seconds, making a mess of Seoyeon’s face as spit gets all over her face. Soon, you feel Seoyeon smack your thigh repeatedly, hoping that you’ll pull out and let her breathe. So you do just that, and she immediately gasps for air, “oh shit, oppa. I thought you were going to knock me out with your cock, fuck”, she says. “No, but I’ll be rough tonight. You know the safe word; say it if you want to stop”, you say, notifying her of your intent.
You tell her to move up in the bed, “you want me to wear a condom or no?”, you ask Seoyeon, who now has her head on the pillow while lying on her back. “Oppa isn’t talking as sweetly and softly as usual, I hope it means that he’s enjoying this”, she thinks to herself, “umm, yes, please”, she replies. You’re never one to do something to a girl without her consent, so you put on a condom before climbing into bed with her. You then get between her legs and fold them over her torso, “hold your legs for me”, you say sternly while aiming your length at her entrance. Unsurprisingly, she obeys right away; she holds her legs over her body by wrapping her forearms under her knees. Just as you’re about to push in, she fuels your fire, “give it to me, oppa, make me take it”. After being shown the green light, you push your cock into her tight hole, making her scream instantly. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, oppa”, she eggs you on. You put a hand on her neck and start squeezing it, and you feel her pussy get tighter around your cock, “oh, you like this, you slut? Fuck, so tight”, you say, attempting some dirty talk while thrusting roughly; you hope she doesn’t mind being called that out of nowhere. “Fu—oppa, please, ughhh”, she tries to say with the last bit of air in her chest, as a tear starts running down her face and her hands try to loosen your grip on her neck.
Feeling like you’re about to cross the line, you let go of her neck and pull out so that you two can catch some breaths. You see your hand leave a red mark on her neck, as she breathes with her mouth to get as much air into her lungs as possible. “Baby, you okay? That was too rough, right? I’m sorry”, you say, your mind no longer possessed by your cock. “Hah, hah—I’m-I’m fine—fuck. You were so rough, oppa. Didn’t know you had it in you like that”, she says, her eyes glassy from unreleased tears. “Do you want to stop, baby? Say the safe word, maybe?”, you ask to make sure that you still have her consent. “No, o-one more time. I’m so close, take me across the line, oppa”, she says, while grabbing her legs and folding it like earlier. “Let go of your legs, baby. You must be tired”, you say, while going in for a kiss. When you pull away, you see her put on a loving smile, “yes, baby?”, you ask her, not quite catching her signal. “I love you, oppa, so damn much. Now— “, she says while rolling onto her stomach, “—take me again, like this. You can be rough again if you want to”. “Okay, baby. Don’t forget that you can say the safe word”, you say, as you ride her thighs to fuck her from behind.
You plunge deep into her instantly, making her scream into the pillow. You like this angle as it makes Seoyeon feel tighter for you; “fuck, baby, you’re tighter like this”, you say with a deep groan. “Oh, oh, yes, I’m always tight for you, oppa”, she replies, her voice muffled by the pillow, moaning with every thrust you’re giving her. As you’re thrusting deep and fast, you see Seoyeon’s forbidden hole every now and then, peeking at you from behind her cheeks. You want to stimulate her more to get her closer to her orgasm, so you take your thumb and rub her small hole with it, making her gasp in surprise and turn her head to look at you. “Oppa, please, not there, please, please, please”, she says, panicking at the thought that you’re going to put something in her ass. You respond by grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling it, making her arch her back, “you’re mine, aren’t you? Have you forgot, you little slut? You’re entirely mine”, you whisper aggresively in her ear, getting rougher with your thrusts. “I—fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m cumming!”, she exclaims with a loud scream—you’re lowkey worried that a neighbor might call the cops on you considering how loud she’s screaming. “Cum, you slut, cum all over this cock”, you reply to her, not letting up the thrusts. You finally pull out when you feel her juice pushing you out, her legs shaking due to the hard orgasm. “Good job cumming, baby. I’ll get some water then it’s time to chase mine, okay?”, you tell her while petting the back of the panting girl softly before leaving to get some water.
When you return with some water for the both of you, you see Seoyeon still laying on her stomach while looking at you, seemingly sad about something; “oppa, you weren’t really trying to get in that hole, were you?”, she asks, referring to your stimulation on her asshole, “i-is my pussy not good enough, oppa? Bu-but you were my first—ah, I’m so sorry, oppa. I-I’ll do better next time”, she continues, tears gathering in her eyes. Your heart shatters at her words; you only meant it as a stimulation to get her closer to her orgasm, not to point out that something’s lacking—"tell her otherwise, now”, your heart screams at you. “Oh, love, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I was just trying to get you to your orgasm quicker. It is true that I was your first, and I’m forever honored and grateful for that. You’ve been the best girlfriend for me, so there’s no need to worry about being lacking, baby”, you tell her before pulling her into a hug and carrying her to the bathroom. “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? I think we’ve had enough tonight”. “Bu-but you haven’t cum yet, oppa. Plea-please let me down, let-let me finish the job”, she says to you half begging. “It’s fine, baby, I’ll manage. Let me take care of you, okay? I went so rough on you, I’m sorry”, you say to her as you open the bathroom door. “Can you stand up on your own, sweetie? Do you need a stool?”, you ask her before putting her down. “A stool, please, oppa. My legs are like jelly right now”, she replies to you, drawing a prideful smile on your face.
After setting the stool down and making her sit on it, you turn on the shower and start cleaning her up. You start by rubbing her nape and back with some soap before lifting her butt up so you can clean her cheeks. You then rinse the soap off her back and move in front of her to continue. When you get in front of her, you kneel and put a hand on her knee, “How are we feeling, sweetie?”, you ask her to gauge her emotions. She looks down at herself before looking at you, “oppa, you love me, right? You won’t leave me just because I didn’t let you in my ass, right? Please tell me you love me. Please, oppa”, she asks, her voice trembling from sadness. She needs assurance and comfort right now, and you’re ready to give her whatever she needs to make her feel better. “I love you, baby. Please believe me when I say that I’m not going to force you into anal until you’re ready, whenever that may be. Even if you end up never feeling ready for it, I’ll still love you with all my life; there’s no doubt in my mind about it”, you tell her with all the sincerity you can muster. “Please don’t feel burdened by any of it, baby. I won’t leave you, no matter what happens tonight”, you tell her while hugging her tightly, your promise true and sincere as ever. When you finally pull away, you see a small smile drawn on her face, “feeling better, love? Let’s finish this and then go to sleep, okay?”, to which she nods enthusiastically, straightening her back to give you access to clean her front.
Now that the shower has finished, you give her one of your jerseys to wear to sleep—the length enough to cover your little girlfriend down to her thighs—before putting her down on the bed. You wrap her in your arms while she tucks her head on your neck; “oppa”, she begins, “congrats on making it to the final”, she says. Surprised to hear her bring it up out of nowhere, you let out a chuckle, “it’s all thanks to you, sweetie; thank you for cheering me on, baby”, you reply. You can’t see her face, but you know she’s blushing right now. “Promise me that you’ll win, oppa. I, uh, may or may not have a present prepared for you—but only if you win”, she continues. “Present, hey? I like the sound of that. I’ll try my hardest, baby”, you say, feeling motivated by the promise of getting a present.
-
It’s been a few days since the semifinal and that night where Seoyeon tried being a subby baby for you—she chickened out when you teased her asshole, though, blue-balling you in the end. The grand final is right around the corner and you’ve spent the last few of days preparing for the last dance. You’re nervous out of your mind at the prospect of playing in the grand final, unconsciously speaking less day in and day out. Seoyeon notices this and tries to help you ease your mind as much as she can, being the angel of a girlfriend that she is, even when you forget to thank her—basketball is taking the entire space in your head right now.
After going through the past 2 days mindlessly, it’s now Saturday morning again, 12 hours before the final game of the season. You woke up not-too-smoothly, letting out a panic gasp as you felt your soul get shoved back into your body. You panic even more when you can’t find Seoyeon in bed, so you immediately jump off the bed and run out of the bedroom. After doing so, you hear sizzling coming from the kitchen— “is that Seoyeon?”, you think to yourself. When you go to the kitchen to investigate, you see Seoyeon in front of the stove, busy doing something. “Good morning, oppa! I’m making some steamed eggs for breakfast”, she says cheerfully when she sees you. Relief fills your head right away, so you hug her from behind without saying anything and rest your forehead on her head, “I panicked when I couldn’t find you in bed”, you mumble into the back of her head. “Sorry, oppa. Just wanted to make you some breakfast to cheer you up before tonight”, she says to you. You keep hugging her until she notifies you that she’s done cooking and asking you to sit at the table.
“My mom taught me how to make this, oppa. Hope you like it”, she says wishfully. You’re so captivated by the steaming pot of steamed eggs in front of you that you almost forget to thank the person behind it. “Ah, almost forgot—thank you, baby. You’ve been so kind to me these past few days—months, really. I’ll take you on a date after this is all done, okay?”, you say to her. Seoyeon can’t help but blush at your words, “oh-oh, I was just trying to help you, oppa. You-you’ve also been so kind to me”, she says before covering her face with her hands—you find it adorable that she still gets shy with you despite having been dating for a few months. “Thank you for the meal!”, you exclaim excitedly before sticking a spoon into the pot. You let out a satisfied groan after the first spoonful; it is so soft and well-seasoned, absolutely astonishing. “This is amazing, baby. Thank you so much”. “I’m glad you like it, oppa. I was so nervous if I made it wrong”, she replies.
After finishing the meal, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom while Seoyeon washes the dishes. You then open the wardrobe to get some clothes and the jersey for tonight. As you dig through your part of the wardrobe, you find a piece of paper folded in half lying on top of your jersey. With a curious mind, you open it; “Oppa, this is Seoyeon—obviously”, the first line says, “I know you’ve been stressed out about the grand final, but I want to remind you that you’ll always be my number one regardless of the result tonight. Love you always, captain. Signed, your Seoyeon”, the rest of the letter says, her signature drawn on the bottom. As you finish reading it, you see Seoyeon enter the bedroom, “oh you found it already, guess I didn’t hide it well enough”, she says while smirking, pointing to the piece of paper on your hand. You can’t believe how lucky you are to be in love with such a sweet girl, so you can’t help but fall on your knees wordlessly. Surprised by the sight in front of her, Seoyeon rushes to you, “oppa, are you okay? Are you sick?”, she asks in panic, hugging you and putting a palm on your forehead. “Seoyeon, I.. I love you so much. Thank you for everything”, you say while looking deeply into her eyes. Seoyeon hugs you tightly after hearing your words, “no, thank you. I love you so much too. Go win this for me, okay? Fighting, captain”, she says to you.
-
It's only a few minutes before the grand final starts. You find yourself in the darkness of the tunnel again. “You’ll always be my number one”, Seoyeon’s words are repeating endlessly in your head. Your thoughts are cut short when you see the same guy and the flag from before make another appearance; “for you, captain”, the guy says. You grab the flag from him and put it against your shoulder like before. Unlike last time, though, everyone’s wearing a jacket now. Everyone wears it normally while you wear yours like a cape, making the name of the university clear for everyone to see. The guy gives you the signal to enter and start the pre-match pleasantries which you’re not paying attention to, your mind locked in for the game itself—you do hear the crowd cheer when the announcer says your name, though, so that’s nice.
-
The first half was hard; your team were trading points and exchanging leads back and forth with the opponents. During the break, Coach Park was putting more emphasis on steadying the game and scoring consistently in the second half while being tight on defense. Before heading back out, Coach Lee pulls you to the side; “we need you to score from deep, son. They’ve been covering you loosely this game, you must take advantage of that”, he tells you, to which you reply by nodding your head in acknowledgment.
True enough, they’re allowing you to have more space on the floor as you’re able to have uninterrupted looks to shoot every few possessions. As instructed by Coach Lee, you take advantage of it as much as you can, making 4 out of 5 shots from long range. Your team is now leading by 8, the largest in the game so far. Feeling uncomfortable, the opponent’s coach calls a timeout, sending both teams to the bench to talk. After the timeout, Coach Park decides to sit you on the bench for the rest of the quarter, giving you some time to catch up with your girl, who’s sitting in the same seat as last time. “Oppa, what are we thinking?”, she asks you. “We’re trying to keep this lead, baby. Pray for us, okay?”, you say to her, making it as simple as possible for her to understand.
3rd quarter ends with your team leading by 4; not big enough a lead to be comfortable, but you’ll have to make do with what you have. “10 more minutes, guys, come on”, you tell your teammates during the huddle, “let’s win this shit”, you add at the end. The approach now is to be intense on defense, forcing hard matchups and turnovers to turn into easy fastbreaks on the other end of the court. You’ve been taking a few elbows to your body throughout the game, hurting you little by little; “that’s basketball for you, just man up”, your brain says.
After forcing another turnover and turning it into an easy bucket, the opponent calls their last timeout with 1 minute left in the game. Coach Lee takes the floor this time, “we’re almost there, boys. Hang on for 1 minute and you’ll win it. Let’s go”, he says, before explaining some defensive schemes for the last minute of the game. The huddles break when the horn sounds, notifying both teams to get back on the floor with 1 minute left.
The opponents have the ball coming from the timeout. The guard is bringing the ball up the court while making a horn sign with his fingers. Everyone knows what to do, so each of you gets ready to react to the play. Unfortunately, despite having prepared to defend such play, they still manage to score 2 points off an offensive rebound following a miss, cutting the lead down to 2. After getting the inbound, you start bringing the ball to the other side with less than seconds left on the clock, calling for the circle play as an attempt to put this game to bed by scoring from deep in crunch time. You pass the ball to a teammate before cutting inside and circling outside the 3-pt line again—hence the “circle”—while another teammate sets a screen for you, leaving you wide open to shoot. As you shoot, adrenaline slows down the time, making it feel like it takes the ball forever to fly through the air and into the hoop. After keeping your eyes on the ball the whole time, you finally see the ball go cleanly through the basket, hitting nothing but nylon. With it, the crowd roars as you’ve grown the lead to 5 with almost no time for retaliation. After getting back on defense one last time, you hear the final buzzer roar through the arena— “is it done? Did we win?”, your brain wonders. As if hearing your thoughts, a teammate hugs you, “yo we win, man, we win. Can you believe that? We win!”, he says, screaming at you. After him, your other teammates start piling up on you one by one; “ah yes, we did win”, your brain confirms.
After exchanging emotions with everyone, you’re now left alone in the court. You find yourself on your knees trying to process everything that has happened, your emotions still at bay. Shortly after, you look up to find Seoyeon, immediately spotting her. She’s bawling her eyes out while having her fists in the air. You run up to her so you two can share this moment. You hold out your arms and she fills it right away, “oppa, you did it, you won!”, she says, her voice shaky from the emotions. “Yes, we did, sweetie. We won, and it’s all thanks to you”, you reply to her as tears start running down your face. After hugging for a few seconds, you pull away from her, “I’m going to the locker room, see you at home, love”, you tell her. “Don’t forget, oppa, I have a present for you, a huge one”, she replies to you, a mischievous smile drawn on her face.
-
You ended up spending an hour celebrating with the team and a bunch of professors who attended the game. You’re now in the Uber heading home, all refreshed and cleaned up after showering. You’re excited at the prospect of getting a present from your beloved—not long to go until you reach your apartment. As soon as you arrive at the door, you enter the passcode— “huh, no sound from Seoyeon”, you think to yourself. “Seoyeon, are you home, baby?”, you say loudly as you try to find her. “In here, oppa”, you hear her say behind the closed bedroom door.
After putting down your stuff, you knock on the door and enter the bedroom. You’re met with Seoyeon, who has her bathrobe on like last time, making your heart rate jump through the roof with excitement. “Congrats on winning the tournament, oppa”, she starts, “and with it, you’ve won the grand prize”. “Thank you, baby, and what’s this grand prize you’re talking about?”, you ask, ready to get lucky. “Your prize—“, she says while taking a few steps back and taking off her robe, revealing a very sexy black lingerie, “—is me”. Your cock hardens instantly at her words, “oh, really?”, you reply to her, your head full of lust— “when did she buy that?”, your brain asks. “Yes, oppa—or should I say, daddy”, she says while getting on her knees, “I’m entirely yours, daddy. Do what you want to me”. You walk up and kneel on one knee in front of her, getting on her eye level, “Safe word?”, you ask. “Same as always, but I don’t plan on using it tonight. Let me please you, daddy—use me”, she says, not folding to your deep gaze. You stand back up again to free your cock from its constraints, and that’s when she adds fuel to your fire, “All yours, daddy, including my ass”. Surprised to hear her offer her ass to you, you look at her, “I hope you’re sure because I’m not asking again”, you warn her. “I’ve given you my cherry, might as well give you the other one”, her reply stuns you. “Get on the bed like last time”, you command her.
Once she’s in position—her head hanging off the edge while the rest of her body is in bed—put your cock into her mouth. You see her chest go up and down with every thrust, trying to stay calm as your cock is lodged in her airway. Naughty as you are, you palm her neck with one hand. You feel her throat bulging every time you push deep into her mouth. This, however, makes her lose control and start gagging loudly. “Oh shit, I’m getting close”, you groan and she lets out a muffled whine as a reply. You pick up your pace, planning to cum in her moist mouth. A few thrusts later, you feel your cock twitch: a signal that you’re cumming. Trying to show her some mercy, you pull your shaft out but leave the tip in. “Fuck!”, you say as you cum in her mouth and make her choke on your cum. She waits for you to finish spurting your baby batter before tapping your thighs, asking for you to pull out. Once you do, you see that spit has run down her face. “Show me”, she opens her mouth filled with cum, “so?”, you ask. She puts her doubts aside and swallows it, earning a chuckle from you. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Move up, get comfortable”, you say as you help her move up the bed, “I’m your good girl, daddy. I’ll do anything for you”, she says.
You walk over to the bedside table to grab a condom. Seoyeon sees this, and she rushes to you and holds your arm, “what is it?”, “fuck me raw, daddy—breed me”, she says with lustful gaze. Your cock gets hard quickly at her words, “careful with what you wish for, slut”, you say while holding her by the chin and she replies by smirking seductively. “Get on your hands and knees, now”, you say impatiently.
You kneel behind Seoyeon and stick your cock deep into her pussy, making her moan at the first penetration. “You want daddy’s cum? You think you deserve it?”, you say with a hoarse voice while aggressively thrusting into her. “Daddy—oh, I—ah, fuck—I’m your good girl—fuck—please give me your cum”, she says while moaning and cursing out loud. Not one to deny such request, you push her down so that only her ass is in the air. “As you wish, slut”, and with it, you start picking up your pace: giving it to her deep and fast, making her grip the sheets tightly while screaming into the pillow. “Oh God, you’re stretching me, daddy—fuck!—keep going, please. Breed me, please!”, she begs you. “Zip it, slut—fuck, how are you still so tight after all this time?”, you say before pressing her head into the pillow. “I’m not too far away now”, you announce, while Seoyeon is still screaming into the pillow, “I’ll need to give her a lot of water after this”, you say to yourself, making a mental note. “Fuck, I’m cumming. Cum with me, baby”, you say, breaking your dominant character before thrusting one last time and leaving your cock stuck deep in her pussy, filling her second hole with baby batter. You notice that she’s also having her orgasm as shown by her shaking legs and thighs. You pull out after the both of you have come down from your high; your cock is now shining thanks to her slick.
She’s laying on her stomach limply while you leave to get water. “Drink, baby. You’ve been screaming a lot”, you say to her sweetly while putting the glass close to her mouth, letting her sip some water. “Thank you, daddy. You’re so sweet”, she says with a grateful smile on her face. “So, what now?”, you ask her, hoping that she’ll keep her promise from earlier. “Fuck my ass, daddy. Take my last cherry and make me yours entirely. I’ve prepared the lube, it’s in the bottom drawer”, she says to you, her eyes full of lust again, ready to give you her last virginity.
You walk away from her and open the bottom drawer, and would you look at that: a sealed bottle of Prael Gel lube. “When did you buy this?”, you ask her. “Wouldn’t you like to know”, she says before chuckling, “do it, daddy—I’m begging you”. After slathering lube all over your cock, you get into the bed again, “how do you want me?”, she says as she gets ready to get into position. “Just lay on your stomach and spread these cheeks for me”, you tell her, spanking both cheeks and making them red. “As you wish, daddy”, she says while her hands are spreading her cheeks, letting you see the forbidden hole.
You get on top of her and set your knees on either side of her thighs. You slowly move forward until your tip reaches her rear entrance. Seoyeon gasps and turns her head to look at you, “slowly, daddy, please—be gentle with your slut, it’s her first time”, she says to you, “did she just call herself a slut?”, you think. You just give her a nod while pushing into her ass—her muscles are not letting you in, “relax, baby, let me in”, you say to her. You’re not entirely sure if she actually relaxes as you keep pushing forward and forcefully break in into her ass. You finally get past her sphincter, stretching her asshole and molding it into the shape of your cock. “Fuck, daddy, you’re so big! Please be gentle, please, please—God, fuck—it’s-it’s my first time, daddy—AHHHH!”, her screams muffled by the pillow but still loud enough to reach your ears.
Once you’re in, you start giving her deep but slow thrusts and let her asshole adapt to the large shaft lodged in it, “my God you’re so tight—fucking hell”, you exclaim while her anal muscles are squeezing your cock. “Alwa-always am, for you—oh my God, fuck!”, she screams into the pillow again when you reach the deepest point, “you’re going to ruin me, daddy—please ruin me, I’m nothing without you”, she says, making the fire in you rage wildly. “I’m going faster, keep squeezing my cock”, you say to her. Seeing her press her head into the pillow serves as a green light to you, so you start going faster while still hitting the deepest spot in her ass. “God I’m gonna cum again”, you groan as you’re inching closer to your third orgasm tonight.
Not wanting to leave her behind, you lift her ass up into the air again and begin rubbing her clit. “Cum with me or I’m tying you to the bed”, you whisper in her ear. Upon hearing your command, she replies, “oh, oh, daddy, please let me cum with you—AHHHHH PLEAAASE”. The way her asshole squeezes your cock is foreign to you, so you can’t help but let out deep groans of your own. After thrusting in and out about a few dozen times while her moans and whines fuel your lust, the familiar feeling of reaching ejaculation is creeping up on you. You rub her clit faster to get her to cum with you while you keep fucking her ass. “Seoyeon, I’m cumming, take it all!”, “DADDY PLEASE”, she screams in return, and with it, you’re releasing in her ass while she squirts for the first time.
Despite feeling weak in the core and wanting to fall over, you pull out of her ass, being shown the gape your cock has made of her ass. Seoyeon is not making any sound right now, so you hope that she’s just drained and still fine. You peck her on the back of the head before going to the bathroom to start the shower.
After making sure that everything is set in the bathroom, you go back to the bedroom and touch her back, “no, no, daddy. Pochacco, please—fuck—I can’t take it anymore, please, I’m begging you”, she says while panicking, saying her safe word for good measure. “Hey, hey, calm down, baby. We’re done for tonight. There’s nothing to worry about, okay?”, you soothe her while petting her head softly. “Let me take care of you, alright? The shower is ready”, you say to her before carrying her to the bathroom.
You sit her down on the stool since you figure that she won’t be able to stand up on her own after getting wrecked in all 3 holes. You start cleaning her back as usual before kneeling in front of her. “Oppa, did you like it? I-I hope I did well”, she says. “Baby, it was amazing and you did excellent. Thank you so much”, you say before going in for a kiss. “I thought my ass was on fire, oppa—“, she says after pulling away, so you hug her as a gesture of apology, “—but I think I liked it, you felt much bigger in my ass”. “Are you saying we should do it again? I think it was amazing”, you ask with hopefulness in your voice. “O-oh, yeah, sure”, she says before looking away, subtle pink tint on her cheeks.
-
You two get back into the bed after showering to start cuddling. You’re half-mindedly petting her head that’s currently tucked against your chest, inching closer to sleep before your brain reminds you of something. “Hey, baby, what happened? I thought you weren’t ready for anal?”, you ask her. “Ahh, oppa”, she whines cutely and slaps your chest lightly, “a friend told me that she had just given her anal cherry to her boyfriend as a birthday present, an-and I figured that maybe I could do that as well should you win the tournament”, she continues. “I must say that you’re crazy but I’m also thankful”, you say before kissing her head, “but where did the daddy kink come from?”, you follow up. Before saying anything, she pulls away from the cuddle and gets on top of you, “I.. want to be yours, like yours yours, you know?”, she says before looking away from your deep gaze, “I figured that I could be your subby baby and let you do whatever to me to prove my sincerity”. You’re absolutely stunned by her answer, “you know you didn’t need to do all that, right? You know I love you”, you say to her. “Yes, yes, you always say that you love me, but I still want to do it. Please, oppa, accept me”, she says. You pull her down and hug her tightly, “of course, baby. I love you so much, okay?”, you then whisper in her ear, getting back into the dominant character, “you’re mine from now on, and you’ll do whatever I ask you to, you understand?”. “Yes, daddy. From now on, I’m your slut”, she replies, her voice laced with submission to you. Satisfied with her answer, you wrap her in your arms once again and take her to the dreamland while the gears in your head start spinning, trying to come up with things to do to her in the future.
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calisources · 7 months
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ROYAL, FANTASY ROMANCE AND SPICE. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.
ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. add +reverse to change the roles.
(royal ball): our muses dance at a royal ball. 
(captive in the tower): sender is held captive and receiver helps save them.
(arranged marriage): our muses are thrown together into an arranged marriage.
(childhood betrothal): arranged to wed since being children, our muses finally meet days before the wedding.
(ward): send is a ward at the receiver's house/home. 
(stolen kiss): sender kisses receiver before a battle, away from prying eyes.
(mystery knight): sender is unknown at court and receiver wants to know them further.
(secrets): our muses are together in a secret relationship as their families wouldn’t approve. 
(brother’s keeper): sender is receiver’s brother's best friend. Sender has been harboring a crush since they met.
(taken): sender is taken prisoner by receiver on their ship at sea after a shipwreck.
(horse ride): there is only one horse trope, our muses have to ride together.
(guard): sender is made receiver’s guard and they have to travel/spend time together.
(no one is here to help): receiver is taken to sender as their captive.
(aftermath): after a battle/war, sender and receiver reunite thinking the other was dead. 
(my prince): sender falls for receiver, who is the realm’s prince/princess.
(tourney): sender gives the receiver their favor during a tournament.
(piece of me): sender ties a piece of cloth on receiver’s hand to wrap around a wound.
(you left): sender left receiver years ago, now reunited, receiver is upset.
(last kiss): unsure if they will see each other again, sender kisses the receiver before distracting enemies so receiver can escape.
(under my protection): sender proclaims himself receiver’s protector while receiver is traveling/captive.
(starcrossed): our muses find out they have to marry other people and they reunite at night.
(we were in love once): our muses were together in a relationship in their youth and now see each other after years.
(my castle is yours): sender pledges their castle as a fortress to keep the receiver safe.
(gentle touch): sender heals the receiver of their wounds and inevitably grows close.
(magic): receiver is a being of magical properties and sender finds themselves enthralled by them.
(my paramour): receiver becomes sender’s mistress.
(the bane of my existence): our muses never got along and yet, they harbor feelings for one another after a heated argument.
(maze): our muses lose their guards in a maze and they find each other alone.
(it was always you): our muses are childhood friends about to get married.
(to make peace): from opposite houses, our muses are now married to bring peace.
(corner): behind a corner of the great hall, sender corners receiver after seeing them dance with someone else.
(advisor): receiver works as an advisor for sender, despite objection around court.
(rags to riches): receiver is a bastard now made legitimate and people around the realm came to meet them. Sender is one of them.
(at your service): receiver is a lady in waiting/personal guard to sender’s sibling and a romance develops.
(saved): sender is saved by receiver, who is a healer/witch.
SENTENCES AND QUOTES:
“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”
“He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.”
“Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.”
“I want you—but I don’t want this."
“Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.”
“There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.”
“I will not share you."
“Well, princess, let’s see what you’re made of.”
“She added the flowers and incense to help mask your own scent.”
“Your eyes betray you. Your body even responds to mine no matter that you’re angry. You want me.”
“He is my ruin. My complete and utter devastation.”
“Just how long have you been sticking it to the girl who’s like a little sister to us?”
“There’s a certain sort of beauty in submission.”
“My story hasn’t been written yet, but I know it begins with you.”
“You will love this man. Do you understand? You will love him, serve him, and obey him in all things. This is your duty to me and to France. Am I clear?’
“She didn’t need a man. She wanted one.”
“Your wish is my command, my queen.”
“It is legal because I wish it.”
“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”
“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”
“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"
“Make no mistake.You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”
“But perhaps, when you sleep, you will dream of me."
“I cannot come with you, my prince.”
“This woman was consuming him, bit by bit.”
“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”
“You are the harbor of my soul’s journeying.”
“We love what we love. We don’t need to justify it to anyone… not even to ourselves.”
“To love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”
“The heart is neither given nor stolen. The heart surrenders.”
“Give yourself to me.”
“I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your man to serve.”
“I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?”
“Marriage is a marriage- love or arranged. Both require the same level of commitment.”
“We are trapped by convention and must marry another.”
“We had both accepted the unwritten rule of arranged marriage: love, if it arrived at all, would bloom with time.”
“Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.”
“We were doomed from the start. A lost cause. A losing battle.”
“Mr. Larsen, if you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.”
“You are my very own forbidden fruit.”
“I’m scared, but I’d rather have one real day with you than a lifetime of misguided security.”
“And you, are mine.”
“You think a courtship and a hunt are two separate things. They are not.”
“I will share him with you, I cannot lose him.”
“Why must you resist me so dearly? When you tremble under my touch?”
“You must be made of magic itself. Your touch is warm.”
“One day, I will be able to leave you.”
“Did he touch you? Did you enjoy the way he held you across the room?”
"I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?"
“And why, pray tell, should I make it easy?'
"You are the bane of my existence--and the object of all of my desires. Night and day I dream of you."
"I did not ask for this--to be plagued by these feelings."
“I have loved you at every dance, on every walk, and every time we've been together. You must feel it in your heart, because I do."
“Because,by the time I’m done, prayer is the only thing that is going to save you.”
“Suppose I told everyone that I had seduced you.”
“You’re not planning to refuse me, are you?”
'Tell me if I do anything you don't like.”
“Say you do not care for me. Tell me you feel nothing and I will walk away.”
“I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.”
“If I wed your sister, it will bind me and you together for eternity, and I will spend every day of my marriage wanting you, dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps.”
“I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening, how much you consume my very being.”
“That scent. It has remained imprinted on my mind ever since that night of the conservatory ball on that terrace. Lilies.”
“I desire you. I burn for you. I can't sleep at night because I want you."
“You’re the center of a star, and the force of gravity keeps pulling me closer, and I don’t give a damn that I’m about to be incinerated.“
“Whatever bad thing happened to you, it hasn’t made you less beautiful. There’s beauty in darkness, too.”
“I belong to you. Only you…I’ll always be yours. No matter what.”
1K notes · View notes
mattslutt · 2 months
Text
MINE
c.sturniolo
includes: smut, oral!female, friends with benefits (kinda), friends with secrets, teasing, pet names, dom!chris, fem!reader.
short summary: you’re always been in a little situationship with chris, meeting up everyday, having sex in secret and pretending that you’re strangers in public but after chris’s team won the tournament he broke the friends with benefits thing.
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“Oh- fuck”, Chris breathed out while throwing his head back while I was on top of him, bringing both of us closer to the edge. Once I felt him release inside me i got off of him and licked the juices off.
“Atta girl”, Chris praised me as he grabbed me by the arm and leaned in to kiss me.
“Don’t you need to start getting ready for the tournament?”, I whispered between kisses.
“It can wait”, Chris whispered back, deepening the kiss, I felt his hand sliding up on my chest.
“Not now”, I whispered.
“Yes, now”, Chris groaned.
I pulled away and threw his shirt at him.
“Get ready for the tournament asshole”.
Chris looked at me the whole time as I was putting my clothes back on.
“You’re so beautiful ”.
“Tell that to your girlfriend”.
“You know we broke things off”.
“Doesn’t seem like she thinks that way”.
Chris rolled his eyes as he got off of the bed, starting to get ready for the tournament.
“Are you nervous?”, I asked him.
“Not really, I know my team can win”.
“Okay, well I’m heading out.”
“Wait”, Chris grabbed me by the arm before I was able to leave.
“What?”.
“Will you be at the tournament? You know the the final, it’s important to me.”
“Don’t worry, your girlfriend will be there to cheer you on”.
“She’s not my girlfriend and I want you to be there.”
“You already got what you wanted. Sex before your big match. I think that’s enough.”
“I want you everywhere with me.”.
I looked at him and deeply sighed.
“Don’t you think how weirdly everyone would react when they’ll see me with you?”.
“I really don’t give a fuck on what people will think”, he whispered as his hands were softly trailing around my waist.
I breathed out as I backed away.
“I’ll think about it, bye for now”.
“Bye”.
At the tournament
I did arrive at the tournament because deep down I wanted to. I wanted to see how good he looks in his hockey clothing. I arrived earlier so I could catch up with Chris before his match but I saw him laughing with his team and his supposedly ex girlfriend standing very close to him. His arm was wrapped around her. I don’t know why I get so jealous when me and him are nothing. We’re just fucking for fun. At least that’s what he said a while ago.
He doesn’t know I’ve been having feelings for him and I’m not planning on telling him. He saw me from afar as he gave me a smile. I didn’t even notice how he was looking at me, I just walked away without noticing.
I walked into the nearest girls bathroom and started at myself in the mirror. A few minutes later she walked in.
“Hey”.
I turned to look at her and then turned to look at the mirror again, fixing my hair.
“Hi there”.
“Is it okay if I ask you something?”, she asked me with a worried tone.
“Go on”.
“Is everything okay with Chris? I figured that since you’re very close with him you might know what’s happening to him? He’s been acting very cold towards me”.
‘He doesn’t wanna be with you, he tried breaking up with you tons of times but you’re still not understanding the signs cuz you’re blind as fuck’ is what i wanted to say but instead
“I’m not sure. We don’t talk about stuff like that. I’m sure he loves you”, is what I said to her as I stormed out of the bathroom.
I saw more people surrounding the building so I walked into the arena to take my seat. Chris was standing next to the door. He was looking at me but I glanced at him and turned away. I was pissed and jealous. I was tired of pretending like I don’t feel anything back. I wonder if feels the same.
I saw the teams entering the ice arena and everyone was cheering and screaming loudly, especially to Chris obviously because he was the captain. I saw her again, sitting not so far away from me. She was smiling and cheering him. I started to feel like shit and so guilty because she has no idea what i’ve done with Chris plenty of times. That would destroy her and I’m trying to imagine myself in her place, I would feel the same way. I just hope that Chris will break it off with her for real in a nice way because I don’t want her getting hurt.
The game was going on for about an hour now and the teams were tied up and everybody was screaming so much. The winning goal was given to Chris. All the people surround me were loosing their minds and I know the pressure Chris was feeling. He bend down to his knees for a few seconds and he turned to the audience sight. His eyes met mine. I could see how nervous he was. I nodded to him and mouthed him
“You can do it”.
I swear, in this moment I could feel everything around me stop, like it was just me and him, having our moment. I snapped out of it quickly tho, noticing him nodding back and him holding his hockey stick firmly. He tricked the other team into spinning around in circles and him landing the puck straight into the middle of the gate. Absolutely everybody went wild, cheering. Chris was raised to the top by his team and all of them shouted “chris” at the same time. I got up and tried getting through the crowd only for her to stop again. I saw her eyes were teary and she was mad.
“What’s wrong?”, I asked her.
“I saw that little eye contact you had with Chris, I wondered why he wasn’t looking to my direction. I know everything..”,
My heart dropped because she was never meant to find out this way.
“Chris said he was gonna talk to you soon, im sorry you found out this way”.
She just looked at me and sighed.
“Look, next time, promise me that you won’t lie if you end up in situations like this. Tell the truth to the girl if the boyfriend is lying”.
I just looked at her because I felt guilty.
She softly smiled and leaned in to hug me.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too”, we both laughed it off. We quickly gave each other our phone numbers and she left the game. I saw people were leaving except the teams friends, families, girlfriends.
I tried leaving and I almost did but I heard my name.
“Chris is waiting for you”.
I turned my head and I saw Chris next to the door, I walked down the stairs and walked closer to him. He was looking at me, placing his hand on my cheek and softly playing with my hair. I slowly took off the helmet off of him and placed it on the chair. He looked so fucking good. The wet, messy hair.
“You’re so cute when you look up at me with those doe eyes of yours”.
“Yeah well I can’t change my height.”
“Sexy and feisty. Can’t get enough of you”, and with that he leaned in to kiss me in front of his whole fucking teammates. I didn’t care at that moment because this kiss felt real, because he officially broke the “friends with benefits”, situation. His whole team was cheering and that’s when I pulled away but Chris leaned me in for a hug.
“I love you, I always did”, I whispered into Chris’s ear. He had to bend down a little to hear me perfectly. Gosh, something about him bending down for me made me weak in the knees.
He smiled at those words and leaned in to kiss me again.
“My place, spend the night please”, Chris whispered between kisses.
“Okay, Christopher”.
“Call me that again”, Chris whispered again.
“I looked up at him as I pulled from the kiss for a few seconds.
“Christopher”, I whispered in a tiny seductive tone.
“Fuck, how did I get so lucky”, Chris placed his hands on my ass and leaned in to kiss me again. I softly giggled and pulled him away.
“Don’to do that here”.
“Everybody needs to know hot my girl is”.
“Go get ready”, I softly punched his shoulders urging him so we could leave this place faster.
Never saw him getting ready this fast, he practically sprung out of the bathroom and fell into my arms.
“You really are something”, I giggled while he was attacking my neck with kisses.
Durning the car ride home it was silent but it was that comfortable silence.
“I broke it off with Camilla”, Chris said out of no where.
I looked at him with a questionable face expression.
“Did you talk to her?”, I asked him.
“Yeah, I thought she left the game before I could talk to her but she was waiting for me next to the bathroom after the game ended”.
“Okay, I talked to her too. She seems hurt.”
“I know. I know. But she pretended to never hear the words when I said that we need to break up so that pissed me off”.
“Well she finally heard you”.
“Yeah.”, Chris sighed.
As we slowly pulled to the driveway Chris parked the car and turned to look at me.
“I want you to know that we’re officially breaking this shitty benefits thing. I want you. Not just for sex. But I wanna know everything about you, I wanna spend every minute with you. I want you everywhere with me”.
I just looked at him and slowly picked up his hand and placed it where my heart beats. It was beating crazy.
Chris just looked at me and smiled, leaning in to kiss me again, this kiss felt real, for the first time it felt real. The kiss kept getting more intense, more heavy, Chris leaned in closer, placing his hand on my face, his breath got heavier and his hands were trailing down around my body.
“I need you so bad right now”, Chris whispered. His tone sounded needy and whiny.
“Not here”, I whispered.
Chris pulled away from the kiss getting out of the car, he walked to my side and opened the door for me. Both of us walked into the house, Matt and Nick were eating dinner in the kitchen. When they saw us Matt immediately walked up to us, giving Chris a hug.
“Congrats on winning the tournament bro”.
“Thanks”.
Matt smiled and then looked at me.
“So I’m guessing you guys made it official?”, Matt asked.
I looked to Chris, I thought that I will have to answer this but Chris answered before I opened my mouth.
“Yes, it’s official”, Chris spoke as he placed a soft kiss on my head.
“That’s cute”, Nick came up to us and gave both of us a hug.
“Well we’re gonna head out”, Matt said.
“What, where?”, I asked.
“Nick wants to see some new movie at the cinema and he’s begging for me to go with him”.
“Okay, have fun”.
“We will, y’all have fun too”, Matt winked at us before leaving the house.
“They left on purpose”.
“Definitely, which gives us the perfect opportunity”, Chris picked me up and placed me onto the kitchen table.
“You really can’t wait, can you?”, I teased him.
“Not when I have the perfect opportunity to please my girl when nobody’s home”.
I smiled at him as he slowly began taking off my shirt as well as I took off his shirt.
He slowly took me into his arms again and took me upstairs, placing me softly onto the bed and kissing all over my neck down to my chest. I breathed heavily not breaking eye contact.
He slowly lowered himself between my thighs, taking off my thong, trailing his fingers around my throbbing clit.
“Fuck-, Chris, please”, I whined.
“Patience pretty, patience.”
Chris slowly licked my folds, low whimpers escaping my mouth, him slowly fastening the peace as my fingers dig into his hair, thrusting my hips into his mouth. He slowly entered his fingers inside, i arched my back digging my fingers deeper into his hair. He threw one of my legs on his shoulders so he would have more access.
I grabbed onto the bed sheets, biting my lower lip trying my best not to let out any sounds.
“Let me hear you ma, i love the sounds you can make with that pretty voice of yours”, Chris teased.
“Don’t fucking stop, oh - my god.”, I whimpered out, throwing my head back.
Chris brought me to the edge making me gasp out loud. He got onto the bed and leaned in to kiss me once again, leaving marks on my neck.
“Slow down there”.
“I’m good, gotta let let everyone know you’re mine”.
____________________________________________
the way i got lazy at the end to write the smut im sorry yall 😞😞been super super busy so please bare with this one. i love you all💗
taglist: @gamermattsgf @sturncrazy @sturnsblunt @sturniolosstar @hoesformatt @lacysturniolo @plasticferal @mattphobiia @westwiing13 @mbbsgf
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alexias-putellas · 4 months
Text
clingy // a.bonmatí x reader
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a.bonmatí x reader
based on this request!
cute lil fluffy fic
-
with a heaved sigh, you pushed open the apartment door, dragging your suitcase in behind you. the quiet humming you could hear stopped and was replaced by the sound of footsteps.
aitana appeared in your line of vision and your body immediately felt lighter, the sight of her never failing to bring you comfort.
“amor!” she called happily, wrapping her arms around your neck as soon she was close enough.
you melted into her arms, resting your forehead on her shoulder. “missed you, tana.”
she pressed a kiss to your cheek and held you closer, running her nails along the back of your neck. you pulled back after another minute and one of her hands cradled your face, her thumb running along your cheek.
“you look tired.” she said softly.
if anyone would’ve said that to you, you would’ve punched them. hard. but you knew aitana meant no harm, she also wasn’t wrong.
you were tired, mentally and physically. losing out on two major international tournaments in a row wasn’t easy to deal with especially since aitana could only comfort you over the phone.
“i am, i could probably sleep for a week.” you laughed lightly, leaning into her touch.
“go have a shower, you need to relax.”
despite your protests that you could do it, she grabbed your suitcase and began unpacking as you slipped into the shower.
the hot water felt glorious on your sore muscles and you hated to tear yourself away from the feeling. once you were dressed in a pair of shorts and an old barcelona shirt, you made your way into the bedroom.
your heart melted at the sight of the spaniard sitting on your bed, a hair brush and a hairdryer laying next to her, a bright smile on her face. “ven aquí, let me help you.”
you sat between her legs on the bed, resting your hands on her knees. she gently ran the brush through your hair, murmuring apologies whenever she was forced to untangle any of it.
she ran her fingers through the ends before turning on the hairdryer. you hummed in content as she massaged your scalp, squeezing her knee in appreciation. you loved it when anyone dried your hair for you but having aitana do it was different.
your eyes fluttered shut and you tried your best not to fall asleep, wanting to spend as much time with the spaniard before you crashed.
“done.” aitana whispered softly to you after another five minutes, tapping your shoulder.
you blinked sleepily and leaned back into her. “gracias.”
she wrapped her arms around you and kissed your temple, running her fingers along your arms. a comfortable silence fell over you both.
aitana soon moved from behind you and you whined, reaching out for her. she shook her head and gently pushed you back before disappearing out of the room.
you stared at the door in confusion, putting everything away just as the spaniard re-entered the room.
“bebé,” she huffed, giving you a disapproving look. “you are supposed to be relaxing.”
“i was just tidying, i’ve hardly moved—“
“no,” she shook her head and motioned to the bed. “get in.”
the snacks in her arms gave away the plan so you quickly crawled under the covers, resting against the headboard. you watched as aitana placed the snacks in front of you and raced around the room, grabbing the tv remote and flicking the lights off.
she quickly joined you and loaded your favourite movie, throwing her legs over yours. a small smile made its way onto your face as you picked up a handful of popcorn, ever so tempted to flick it in aitana’s direction.
you decided not to, shoving it into your mouth instead. her head came to rest on your shoulder, one of her hands slipping up the back of your jersey, fingers drawing circles on your skin.
you breathed deeply, running your hand through her hair. you knew that mapi would tease you both relentlessly in training about aitana’s tendency to stick to you like glue after international camps but you loved it.
aitana never failed to make you feel special but there was something about the way she’d dote on your every need without a fuss that had your stomach fluttering, love and adoration flowing through your veins.
the sound of your girlfriend’s laughter brought you back down to earth and you realised that she’d inched herself onto your lap, wrapping your arms around her instantly.
aitana melted into you, intertwining your fingers and leaning up to press a soft kiss to your jaw. “t'estimo.”
“love you too, tana.”
your clingy clingy girl.
670 notes · View notes
tinydeskwriter · 3 months
Text
Lando NorrisxWolff!reader
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words: 2825
requested: no
A/n: This is going to be a multi-chapters, most of the chapters won't be social midia or something. It is going to 'follow' the 2023 F1 season. Reader is Toto's eldest child by a fictitious ex- first wife. I just watched Break Point, with is another sport Netflix docuseries from the same producing company that makes DST, and since then I have this idea of a prodigy tennis player reader.
next part»
GQ 10 things Y/n Wolff can’t live without
“Hi GQ, I am Y/n Wolff and here are my essentials.” The young woman opens her arms looking at the objects displayed on the table, before looking up and smiling to the camera.
# Sugar
“My trainer may not agree. My coaches may not agree. My performance coach may not agree. My parents definitely don’t agree.” She points out, “But I need sugar.” The young woman brings to the centre of the table a small pile of sweets, a tall cup of caffeinated drink and a can of Red Bull, “I live of sugar and… sugary things…”
“My day starts with this lovely peppermint iced mocha sweetened with vanilla sugar… a ton of vanilla sugar.” Y/n laughs taking a sip of her drink “I am weirdly obsessed with mint and chocolate combinations…” She comments looking at the camera, “I drink perhaps two or three of those per day,” The young woman then places her hand over the top of the Red Bull can, most people who follow her already know that she is an athlete sponsored by Red Bull, “sugar-free Red Bull, which ironically is sweeter than the regular one.” She puts her hand on the pile of chocolates, “Milk-chocolate, I am not going to lie and say that I eat the healthy stuff, I don’t, I have the taste buds of a child,” the tennis player smiles mischievously at the camera, “right now I am really into this Finnish chocolate, Geisha and the blue Fazer, daddy always keep those in his offices for me.” She wrinkles her nose a little, giving the camera a lovely—childish—smile.
“Aero Mint bar, Chocolate Orange, Maltesers, Bounty, Kinder, truffles…I'm honestly starting to wonder how we managed to get through customs.” She laughs looking at her entourage behind the cameras. “This is like… a fraction of what I usually travel with, this is more like what I have in my bag for the day.”
#Photos
Y/n played a little with a golden square object in her hand.
“I travel a lot, I am on the road from January to November playing at tournaments around the world, so I can’t always be surrounded or in touch with the people that I love,” she says in a slightly more serious tone, taking the golden case in her hands and pressing the button to open, showing pile of polaroid photos, “those are mini Polaroids, so I can bring them with me wherever I go, I keep them inside this vintage cigarette case that belonged to my maternal grandmother, she was a absolute rockstar and I miss her very much.”  The camera takes a close-up on the golden case with rope motif and small colourful stones. “As I don’t smoke, I had to find another use for it.”
The first photo she shows is five adults together, smiling around a table, in what appears to be a ski resort.
“I have a very patchwork family, and somehow the adults in my life made it work…which I am very grateful for, not everyone is lucky to have so many amazing parents…so here I have my mum and my two other mothers, Stephanie and Susie, papa and my other father, Phillippe,” the second photo is her with a boy not much younger than her, two teenage girls and a small child in front of a Christmas tree, “my siblings, I have four, I am the eldest whatever way you go, huge flex,” the photo is followed by one of a pyjama party with several girls in matching pyjamas, and another of the tennis player with a blonde in front of the Eiffel Tower, “My gurls! This is my best friend, she is also my PA… so amazing to have someone I trust so much with me all the time…” a golden cocker spaniel with a crystal necklace, silk bows in its ears and a Gucci sweater appears on the screen, “this is Éclair Wolff, my emotional support dog aka my child, she actually goes with me mostly everywhere, but sometimes I leave her with my mum so she won’t be stressed by the long flights.”
She points to the next three photos, the first has the Mercedes drivers in Tommy Hilfinger, posing for the photo. “Lew and Georgie, the adopted older brothers I never asked for, but I love them.” The second photo has three other familiar faces making faces at the camera, “C2, my Ferrari boys, feat Pear, there is something wholesome about good looking men looking so silly, I love those guys and I love this picture, it is very on brand with them.”  The tennis player smiles at the camera. “Sharls, Carlitos and Pear are three of the nicest guys I have ever met, it is truly a blessing be able to call them friends and having them in my life.”
McLaren driver Lando Norris, in his third or fourth season, apparently not even realizing he was having his photo taken, it's a spontaneous photo, the soft sunlight highlighting the driver's profile as he smiles.
“Because of karting, I’ve known Lando since I was a head taller than him, he was my first crush…he was so shy, so adorable, so babygirl coded.” Y/n blushed a little as she shows the photo.
“I think most of the current grid is in here…oh, look, it’s Lance! Friends from life, from tennis…” She quickly changes showing another photo. “I think I easily have about sixty photos here..."
#Camera
“I don’t have a specific camera I like more than the others, but as a rule, I prefer vintage cameras just for the beauty of the final result, I inherited a few, I bought a few, I usually develop the photos when I'm at home for longer periods of time, edit the videos, digitalize a few…” She points to the cameras in front of her, a Bolex, a Digital Bolex, a very iconic Rolleiflex and a Super 8, “It is a very nostalgic experience to just go through a year worth of memories…” She says resting her face in her hand, “I have a hundred boxes with pictures and film rolls.”
“I love going through old pictures with my mom and Cass, my younger sister, from when we were babies, my parents in the 90’s, my mom when she was young, the wonderful life my grandparents lived, and is such a lovely moment to share with my mom.” Y/n has a soft smile on her lips. “One day, when I have my own kids, I want to have those moments with them, and not just scrolling through a phone or an iPad.”
#Journals
“I keep journals since I was a child, I get a new one every year,” She holds up the leather hardcover notebook, a deep indigo blue, a little worn around the edges, “after I turned thirteen years old, I started to get it in this specific shade of blue, with my initials in gold,” The girl opens the journal, leafing through it briefly, “I am never going to write an auto-biography, it’s kind of a little bit too egocentric to my taste,” She knocks it closed, but keeps it up, looking at the camera as she speaks , “but if someone ever write about me, fifty years from now… the facts will be straight, at least from my point of view… but even if no one ever writes about me… when I am old and grey and memory starts to fail me, I will be able to come back to the thoughts of twenty years old me…”
There is a moment of silence.
“That was kind of dark.” Y/n laughs to break the tension.
#Art Supplies
“I love to draw and paint, it eases the anxieties of life,” The tennis player shows the large sketchbook, a small aluminium case with the watercolours, and the rolling leather case with pencils and brushes, “I always bring a watercolour travel kit with my sketchbook wherever I go.”
She displays for the internet some of the landscapes she painted during her travels around the world.
#Hoodies
“I like to be comfortable after a match,” she spreads her arms across the perfectly folded hoodies on the table, “and nothing is more comfortable than a hoodie, feels a little bit like home.”
“I have my collection of hoodies with Adidas, they always provide me with new cool colours to try out and see if I want to add to the next collection,” Y/n opens sage green hoodie, running her hand over her initials and the Adidas logo. “Enchanté by Dani Ric, I have a bunch of those, Daniel is always kind enough to drop them at my house in Monaco, VIP treatment baby.” She points to the white hoodie. “Quadrant hoodies, Lando’s merch, ridiculously comfy, I would really like them in pastel colours or dusty rose… just putting out to the universe…” Y/n smiles and winks at the camera. “Valtteri, MV1… those all came with me for the US Open.”
#Skincare
“This is part of my daily routine.” The girl opens the toiletry bag, taking out the products inside, “I am always in different countries and different hotel rooms, so is nice to have this little sense of routine.”
She lines the pearlescent bottles with opaque round lids on top of the table.
“I launched Muse when I was seventeen years old, it is my skincare brand, and it is very me. I wanted it to be un-complicated and complete,” The young woman explains passionately looking at the camera, “skin is the body’s largest organ, and it is not only your face.” It affects the hair on your face, tucking it behind your ear before going back to the product bottles. “The line goes from body wash to suncream to night-time routine.”  
#Travel Pillow
“If I mess up my neck and shoulder, I am f***ed, my match is over and possibly the tournament.” She holds up a medium-sized pillow to the camera, the pillowcase light pink silk with red buttonholes around the edges and her initials in the corner. “So, this baby goes with me everywhere, it is a memory foam pillow with a silk pillowcase. Best sleep, best hair.”
#Sport Gear
“I generalized here, sport gear, I travel heavy, always,” she points to the array of equipment on the table, “this is my racket, I go to each tournament with around ten of those, just in case I wreak one on the ground,” Y/n passes her hand over the racket, “those are custom Yonex Ezone 98, they made it in Mountbatten pink with some cool pattern and my initials,” she smiles as she pulls the helmet close to her chest, “my helmet, also custom Mountbatten pink, with my initials in rose, I love to try new karting tracks, most people don’t know I used to race karts when I was younger, won a couple of trophies, went as far as F3 before I choose to go pro with tennis, car racing is a huge thing in my family…my dad used to race, my stepmom was a driver, my little brother probably going to be a F1 driver,” she recounts with a smile, “I joked once with my dad that we are at a window that if I have a kid in the next year or two, in twenty years we can have a Wolff’s drivers line-up for Mercedes.” The young woman smirks to the camera. “My dad almost passed out, and now I am not allowed to date until I am thirty.”
#Headphones
“Those are custom made for me, again, they are Mountbatten pink and rose with my logo, super comfortable on the ears, I usually have problems with headphones due to the piercings and earrings, but these didn't give me any problems, they fit well, and I can spend the whole day wearing them." She takes the gadget out of the case, showing the details. “It's not wireless, because I always forget to charge it, so it has a wire, they made this lovely, thick cord that is durable and super resistant,” Y/n wraps the rope around her fingers, “it is noise cancelling and it is always with me before every match as an essential part of my pre-match rituals.”
“The right music kind of puts you in the right mood, I usually go with Eminem in 80% of my matches, I feel like it unleashes my inner fighter, these are matches where I'm not really worried about my opponent, it is just raw and a little bit thoughtless, I just play,” she comments, “when I know that my opponent is going to be hard on the mind games, which is not an uncommon move in tennis, I tend to listen to calmer and more melancholic music, piano, it keeps me in a more peaceful zone, I don’t get pumped up and full of adrenaline, my game tends to be far more calculated…”
 #
“That’s it. Those were my ten essentials,” the young woman smiles, “thank you, GQ, for allowing me to share my essentials, much appreciated, and thank you guys for taking the time to watch it! Much love and see you next time!” The athlete says, blowing a kiss and winking to the camera as the credits shows up.
__________________________________________
2,109,963 views   Aug 29, 2022
978 Comments
 userone
i was todays yrs old when i found out that tennis superstar Y/n Wolff is the eldest child of THE Toto Wolff
            user1
            From what little she talks about her dad here, u just get the vibes that Merce boss Toto is a softie girl dad, he keeps her favourite candy in his offices and forbids her to date until she’s thirty, this is so sweet
haterone
a billionaire’s nepo baby, talking about her millionaire friends and her unrelatable lifestyle and things
usertwo
Y/n’s hair is probably the healthiest hair i ever seen i need her hair routine
userthree
I am so obsessed with her career! I want to see her continue to succeed and be one of the biggest tennis players of all times. She deserves it. Such a talented, humble kid.
userfour
i loved hearing her talk about her family and friends!!! it is so crazy that she is close friends with a bunch of F1 drivers.
            hatertwo
            Not so crazy since she’s literally a f1 nepo baby, her daddy is part owner of Mercedes.
userfive
She's like that one super popular chick in school who's actually a total sweetheart.
usersix
I totally relate to her being a sweet tooth
@userseven
I love that she was not talking to the camera. She was actually talking to the people there behind the scenes
usereight
i love how a lot of these items are usually a stereotype of being pretentious—a vintage cartier cigarette case, a film camera, a leather bound custom hermes journal, art supplies--but she talks about all of them with such genuine interest and attachment that it doesnt seem pretentious at all
usereighteen
U r the one name dropping the brands she uses…
usernine
Her nicknames for Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr and Pierre Gasly… I died dead…
            user9
            The fact that she’s gushing about lando and being so sweet about her childhood crush on him oml
            user10
            Omg it is so cuuute!!! Like, she had a crush on little Lando and not McLaren glow up Lando Norris
            user11
            I used to be so conflicted shipping her with the drivers, because she dates that tennis player, but her insta has a bunch of her and Charles and her and Pierre and her and Lance and it is so cute and kind of gives such soft vibes, those boys look half in love with her in most pictures, also ...the chemistry. but seeing the way she talks about Lando… they r my new diehard ship…
userten  
Are we going to ignore that she confessed that Lando Norizz was her first crush???
            user1
            They would be so cute together… and they ate both single now… at the same time… we can dream…
            user12
            i went ten steps further and in my head, they are already getting married and having cute future Mercedes world drivers’ champions…
user13
 Can we already dream of Lando at Mercedes???
usereleven
Ok… but didn’t Lando once commented like, very briefly, in a McLaren video, that he used to have a crush on a girl that used to go karting with him??? The girl who wore red ribbons in her hair… do you guys know who uses red ribbons in heir hair since she was an actual baby?? Y/n! There is a pic in her insta of her in a karting track with her dad, and she has red bows in her hair…
            user11
            Not gonna lie… It would be kinda of cute if they actually had a mutual childhood crush and then eventually end up together as adults…
next part»
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asunsetgrace16 · 9 days
Text
...Hey Dad, Fancy Seeing You Here ⎥ CB98
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Pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!Crosby!reader
Warnings: swearing, underage drinking (at home, closed environment, limited people)
Summary: Connor and Y/N Crosby, Sidney's daughter, are in a secret relationship and are outed when she watches a Blackhawks vs. Penguins game
Notes: The italics section is the flashback to how Connor and Y/N met. This is my new longest fic, and man I got carried away writing how Y/N and Connor met. Not really proofread, so hope for the best. Requested/suggested by anonymous.
masterlist
Word Count: 2.3k
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It’s not exactly unexpected, for Connor Bedard and Y/N Crosby to be dating. His childhood idol, her father. Their lives are interconnected by a web of hockey players, former teammates, and friendships a mile deep. But, the caveat is, no one actually knows they are together. 
Y/N knew her dad would lose his mind when he found out who exactly her boyfriend is. From the time she was old enough to date, the rule was no hockey players, absolutely no teammates, and especially no rookies. Will he find out? Eventually, but not any time soon if Y/N has anything to say about it.
-
“I have tickets to most of the Canadian games, and I want to watch them win gold, in person. I was planning on going to the condo. No Dad, I'm fine. No, you don’t need to have Auntie Taylor come with me. I’m absolutely taking advantage of the fact that we have a place right where the World Juniors are happening. I’m seventeen for God’s sake, and I’ve been fairly independent for years. I’ll be fine.” Y/N says, on the phone with her dad. 
“I know, but you’re still my little girl. I’ll always want to protect you, no matter how old you get.” her dad, Sidney, says.
“I know dad, but this will be good practice for when I’m away at university.” She tells him teasingly.
“Uhhhg, don’t remind me.” he groans, “I trust you not to burn the place down, and try not to go overboard, with anything. The credit card for food and stuff is in the safe, and you have your own for anything else. Call me, if you need anything.”
“Thanks dad, I will.”
“Love you honey.”
Love you too, dad. Bye.”
There, that’s settled, Y/N thinks to herself. She is already in Cole Harbour, staying with her grandparents for Christmas. They already know her plans, and she convinced –not that she needed any convincing– her aunt Taylor to come with her for a girls trip. She flips her laptop open, hits play on Downton Abbey, and finishes her packing. 
“Tay, are you ready yet?” Y/N calls a few hours later. She hefts her suitcase down the stairs, shouldering a backpack.
“Yeah bug, just put my bags in the car. Bring yours out here too.” Taylor replies, “We can be on the road in twenty if we hurry.”
“Make it fifteen.” Y/N challenges with a grin.
The preliminary round of the tournament passes fast. After the shocking Game 1 loss, Canada bounces back and plows through every game afterwards. An exciting quarterfinals win against Slovakia has Canada set to play USA in the semifinals. A match up that always promises an electric game.
After the quarterfinal game, Y/N and Taylor head back to the dressing rooms and player’s entrance for a shortcut to the parking lot. They both have access, thanks to Sid. They talk excitedly about Bedard’s OT winner, a wicked 3-on-1 goal. 
“That was incredible.” Y/N exclaims. She’s no stranger to good hockey, but seeing a player that young, one her own age, to have such amazing talent is unreal to see. 
“Yes it was-” Taylor starts, but is cut off by a man in a suit stalking towards them.
“Hey! You two aren’t allowed back here. Players and staff only. Who do you think you are? Waltzing around here like you own the place? No respect anymore.” He rants before someone grabs him, pulling him away from Y/N and Taylor.
“I am so sorry about Randy. I’m Jim, by the way.” Jim apologizes, “I’m assuming that since you’re back here, you have permission. Is there something I can do to make it up to you? Wait, you’re Crosby’s daughter, aren't you? This makes a lot more sense now.”
“Yes I am, and we have permission. I can’t think of anything, it’s not necessary.” Y/N says. But Jim is determined, knowing who she is now. He offers to introduce the women to the team. They agree, and after Jim explains the situation to Randy, they all head back towards Canada’s dressing room. Talking the whole way, Jim explains that the team has a place rented for the tournament where the boys can hang out and relax. 
“If you’d like to join us, you are more than welcome. I won’t tell them who you are, I’ll let that happen naturally.” Jim says with a wink. “I want to see the look on their faces. It’s too bad your dad couldn't make it. That would really blow their socks off.” The group laughs and waits for Randy to make sure all the guys are decent, and beacons them in with a sheepish look, apologizing once again. The introduction is basic, no announcement or anything. Taylor and Y/N meet the rest of the staff first, quickly becoming engrossed in conversation. 
“So,” the head coach says, “Crosby’s daughter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you.” Y/N replies.
“Coach, did you just say Crosby's daughter? She's here? Holy shit!” one of the players exclaims, joining their little group. “I’m Brandt, nice to meet you. Is your dad here, by chance?” He says, very quickly. The energy rolls right off of him.
“No, he’s not, unfortunately. West Coast road trip.” Y/N says, failing to hide a giggle. 
“Wanna mess with the guys with me?” Brandt asks, a scheming look on his face.
“Always.”
“Ok, I’m going to introduce you around, but not mention your last name. I want to see how long it takes the guys to figure out who you are.”
“Oh I like that.” They grin at each other, and make their way around the room. Before long, the whole team is standing or sitting close together, chatting with Y/N. The adrenaline can still be felt in the dressing room. 
“So how long are you in town for?” Dylan asks, “Hopefully long enough to watch us win gold.”
Y/N and Brandt exchange a look, “I’m planning on it. I don’t have to be back in Pittsburg until the tenth.”
“Pittsburg? You came all the way up here, to watch a Canadian team win? That makes no sense.” Logan wonders, looking confused.
“Oh I’m Canadian, I just live in Pittsburg with my dad. I was up visiting my grandparents for Christmas.” Y/N says. It is getting awfully difficult to keep a straight face. 
“Where do your grandparents live?” That comes from Olen.
“Cole Harbour.”
“Does that mean you've met Sidney Crosby?” Ethan asks. 
“Yup, see him all the time.” She bites back a smile. Brandt has to turn around and take a deep, shuddering breath so he doesn’t give them away. Connor sees him out of the corner of his eye. 
“Wait, you’re Y/N Crosby!” Connor says, standing up just as Y/N and Brandt burst out laughing. The rest of the boys look shocked as the two struggle to stop laughing. Connor grins, chuckling as Y/N wipes honest-to-goodness tears from her eyes. The staff and Taylor laugh amongst themselves, watching the young folks. 
“Guilty as charged.” She says breathlessly, silently wondering if Brandt is going to die of oxygen deprivation at this point. His face is pretty red. Now the questions are really flowing by the time Brandt finally regains some composure. The excited chatter doesn’t stop at the restaurant, either. Y/N and Taylor are invited to stay. As the evening winds down, Y/N finds herself with Connor, conversation flowing easily. 
“Nice goal, by the way. Dad was impressed.” Y/N says, nudging his shoulder with hers.
“Really?” Connor flushes. Cute.
“Yeah, he sees a lot in you.”
“That is…I have no words.” He admits. “Do you, um, do you think you’d want to sit with my family for the rest of the games? I want to talk to you more, and um…I’m just going to stop talking before I make a fool out of myself.”
“I’d love to.”
Connor and Y/N spend a lot of time together in the following days. She sits with his family during the final, and celebrates with them after they win gold.
“We did it!” Connor shouts, picking Y/N up and spinning her around. There is a moment when he sets her down where her arms are still on his shoulders and his hands are on her waist. The noise fades away, just the two of them in a little bubble. “Can I have your number? I’d like to keep talking to you, and take you out sometime.”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” She replies.
-
Now, over a year and 10 months into dating later, Connor and Y/N are both in Toronto for the All Stars. 
“Hey baby.” Connor says, putting his phone away when Y/N slips into the empty visitors dressing room.
“Hey Con.” She goes to him easily, settling comfortably into his open arms. He puts his chin on her head and tightens his hold on her. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too. I’m glad you decided to come.”
“Me too.” She tips her head up, meeting Connor in the middle for a sweet kiss. They go back to their hug, Y/N tucked against his chest, feeling warm again in the cold arena. They simply stand like that, swaying gently and soaking up the moment. They get so wrapped up in each other that they fail to hear voices outside the door. Connor goes to kiss Y/N again, but is interrupted by the door slamming open. Their heads snap to the door, wide eyed and scared.
“Y/N ANNA CROSBY. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” Sidney yells furiously, steam practically shooting from his ears like a cartoon character. Nate is standing close behind him, and Cale, Mathew Barzal, and Brady Tkachuk stand in the doorway. Connor and Y/N take a step back from each other, but keep their hands tightly clasped.
“How dare you not tell me about this. You know the rules, I expect you to follow them.”
“I-” She begins.
“And you,” Sid says, pointing at Connor, “I expected better from you. You’re a good kid, but I have rules for a reason.” Y/N grips Connor’s hand, squeezing three times. 
“You can’t control me like this, Dad. I’ve never had a real relationship because of you. So much of my life is wrapped up in hockey that it was easy to find my person there, and if it wasn’t a hockey-playing boyfriend, it was a hockey fan boyfriend which is worse. All they ever wanted to talk about was you, they never wanted me for who I am. Or you just plain scared them off because ‘no one is good enough for my daughter so why should she even bother’.” Y/N says back to him. Her chest is heaving and she is fighting off tears. 
“I can’t believe that you didn’t tell me this. How long have you two been together anyways?” Sid asks, still pissed off.
“Ten months.” Connor replies, voice strong and true despite the situation. He is nervous, of course, but he loves Y/N too much to let his childhood idol have much of an impact.
“TEN MONTHS!” Sid exclaims, incredulous that his daughter kept this secret, “Bloody hell. What possessed you to keep this from me?”
“This exact reaction that I knew would happen. I knew that if I told you when Connor first asked me out, you would flat-out forbid me to see him, and that wouldn’t have ended the way you wanted anyway. At least this way the two of us can act as a united front and you can see that this isn’t bad. We are both 18, legal adults. You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
Sid stays silent. He is still angry, but the figurative steam has gone away. Nate and the others hover around the door.
Y/N continues, “I get it, Dad. You just want to protect me, and I love you for it. But I’m not a little kid anymore, I can’t be sheltered forever. And Connor’s good to me. You know he would be.” She takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I knew that if I did, you would react exactly the way you are. I wanted to be able to figure out my relationship without my dad looking over my shoulder the whole time.”
Sid’s face falls at her monologue. He can finally understand what Y/N was trying to say for years. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I had no intention for it to go that far. It is hard to watch you grow up, but I need to grow up some too and understand that you are an adult now. In my attempts to protect you, I drove you straight into what I always knew would happen. Thankfully, you picked a good one.” Sid pulls his daughter into a hug, tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me, it wasn’t fair of me.”
“Thanks dad, for apologizing. I know you meant well, but I don’t think this wasn’t the best way to get you to see my side of it” Y/N quips, a wry smile on her face. 
“I’m still pissed that you didn’t tell me, but I’d rather it was you than a lot of other guys” Sid states, reaching out to shake Connor’s hand, “but if you hurt her, I have a lot of power in this game.”
“I know,” Connor says, eyes focused on Y/N. A look so full of love even Sidney can’t deny it, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Awwww.” The trio looks up to see the other four guys with their hands clasped over their hearts, cute pouts on their lips. 
“The babies are in love.” Cale says with a grin.
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hjparisian · 10 months
Text
you're losing me- theodore nott x reader
p: theodore nott x gn!reader w: kinda sad, angst summary: Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have been close friends since they were kids. Realizing their feelings for each other, they pursue a relationship. Theodore begins to change and (Y/N) feels that they're losing him. a/n: i wanna apologize for how long it's taken for me to get this out, but i hope its still enjoyable. also do you guys like the summaries before the story? not sure if i should keep them or not
Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have known each other since they were young. Being purebloods, they were put together with the other pureblood kids at parties. The first party they ever been to, the two clicked, deciding they were designated party buddies at these boring functions.
Aside from the Malfoy's, the (L/N)'s also threw numerous elegant parties. The (L/N)'s never cared for where the kids were as long as they were exhibiting proper sophisticated behavior when present. At one of the (L/N)'s parties, young (Y/N) dragged young Theodore to one of the many rooms in the manor, wanting to escape the adults. The room had rows of books from floor to ceiling, a fireplace, and big windows that brought in beautiful sunlight during the day.
From that day forward, that was (Y/N)'s and Theodore's room. (Y/N) would always bring Theodore to the room whenever he was over, whether it be during parties or the holidays, and Theodore would bring more books to add to the shelves. Sometimes they would invites some of their closet pureblood friends like Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Blaise, and the Greengrass sisters, but to them, it was their room only.
Once the two began going to Hogwarts, they felt closer than ever, and the fact that they were both placed in Slytherin helped. If (Y/N) was in the library studying, Theodore was next to them helping. If Theodore was chilling in the common room with his mates, (Y/N) was sitting right next to him.
In fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament was taking place and the Yule Ball was announced. Everyone was scrambling to find someone to take. Theodore had only one person in mind though, (Y/N). He told them to meet him at the astronomy tower, where he stood there holding their favorite flowers, ready to pop the question.
"(Y/N) (L/N), will you make me the luckiest man alive by being my date to the Yule Ball?"
Much to his pleasure, (Y/N) said yes.
The day of the Yule Ball finally came and everyone was excited. Both (Y/N) and Theodore were nervous, not wanting to embarrass themselves in front of the other. The moment the two laid their eyes on each other, they didn't even notice the other people around them, all they saw was each other. Toward the end of the night, Theodore told (Y/N) his feelings, sparking a new relationship at Hogwarts.
Everything was going just fine, sure they may have small arguments, but Theodore and (Y/N) would always be able to patch things up. But things start to change in the sixth year. Theodore started to be more distant. He would either be late to breakfast or not show up at all. Everytime (Y/N) would ask if they could meet somewhere, Theodore would always reply with "Can't, I'm busy right now." This change was putting a strain on their relationship.
To everyone else, it seemed that Theodore and (Y/N) were fine, but in reality, there's an unknown battle going on. (Y/N) tried to appear happy in front of their friends, not wanting to worry them, but there was one person that could see through their facade. Pansy.
Every time Pansy would confront (Y/N) about this, (Y/N) would defend Theodore with their life.
"(Y/N), I can see things between you and Theo aren't okay."
"No! I mean, we're fine. Theo's just busy right now with school."
Pansy knew that they really cared for Theodore and don't want to face the facts that their relationship is starting to fall. But by doing so, (Y/N) is slowly bleeding out from the pain he is causing them.
Before winter break, (Y/N) was invited to Slughorn's Christmas Party. Those who were attending were encouraged to bring a date. They decided to take a chance and ask Theodore to be their date, not wanting to go with anyone else.
(Y/N) was able to find Theodore in the common room reading, and decided to take chance.
"Hey."
Theo looks up at them. "Hey."
"I was wondering, if you weren't busy, if you would be my date to Slughorn's Christmas Party?" There was a slight pause. "Blaise and Pansy are going. I think Daphne too."
(Y/N) looks at Theodore, slightly scared for his response. The man took a breathe before answering.
"Sure."
"Good." (Y/N) said. "It's on the 20th at 8 o'clock. Dress nice."
Theodore Nott said yes to going. So why was (Y/N) disappointed by his response? It's because his response wasn't what they were expecting. Theodore's responses were typically more energetic, telling them there was nothing else he'd rather do than spend time with them.
Was this the beginning of an end? Is (Y/N) starting to lose Theodore? Or is it the other way around? Will Theodore lose (Y/N) by pushing them away?
The night of Slughorn's Christmas Party was not an exciting one. (Y/N) was deciding if they should just ditch it and leave Theodore waiting for them, if he even bothered to show up. But of course, Theodore wouldn't ditch them nor would (Y/N), having been taught manners all their life by their parents.
The two met up in the common room, deciding they could walk together to Slughorn's office for the party. The walk was painfully silent, until (Y/N) decided to break it.
"So. How have you been?"
"Fine." Theodore responds. "You?"
"I've been alright. Mainly doing school work."
Theodore hums in response, ending the brief conversation.
Luckily, they had arrived at Slughorn's office. Theodore opened the door and as they walked in, it felt like they were transported somewhere else. It seemed as if the Potions professor really out did himself, with all the gold, crimson, and emerald hangings, it definitely did not feel like they were in his office.
(Y/N) spotted their Slytherin friends and dragged Theodore towards them. Pansy stood with Blaise, who was holding her waist while Daphne Greengrass was chatting it up with Adrian Pucey.
"Hey, Pansy!" (Y/N) called out.
Pansy turned towards the two Slytherins at the sound of her name. "(Y/N)! Theodore!" She ran to give (Y/N) a hug, Blaise joining her to give Theodore their so called 'bro hugs'.
"You look stunning," Pansy says.
"Aw thank you Pansy," said (Y/N). "You do too!"
"And what about your other favorite Slytherin? Don't I look hot?" Blaise asks with a sly grin.
"Ah Blaise," (Y/N) begins to say. "You look absolutely terrible." A small 'Hey!' leaves Blaise's month as he looks offend. "Joking, joking!"
A voice calls (Y/N)'s name. It was Professor Slughorn.
"Ah (Y/N)! I'm so glad you're here. Come with me, I've got a couple people who are want to meet the (L/N)'s heir!"
"Oh er, sure Professor," (Y/N) tells him as he begins to drag them away.
"Worry not dear (Y/N) you'll be back with your friends soon!"
As Slughorn was bringing (Y/N) to meet some of his friends and alumni, (Y/N)'s eyes looked at Theodore, who wasn't even aware or concerned about their temporary departure. In fact, he was more focused on the seemingly wonderful conversation he was having with Daphne Greengrass.
While being forced to talk with numerous people, thanks to Professor Slughorn, (Y/N) couldn't help but keep looking for Theodore, hoping he was looking for them but to their disappointment, he was staring still staring into the eyes of Daphne, smiling as she was talking. He hadn't looked at them like that in ages.
They had to talk to Theodore.
(Y/N) turned to the lady that was currently chatting with her. "My apologies, I must be heading now, if you could excuse me." They began walking towards their supposed lover and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hello Theodore, Daphne. I hope you don't mind if I talk to Theo about something, do you?" (Y/N) asks.
"Oh no, go ahead," Daphne tells them.
(Y/N) had already begun to drag Theodore outside the party, pulling him into an empty corridor. As soon as they stopped, Theodore yanks his hand out of (Y/N)'s grasp.
"What is it you want, (Y/N)?" Theodore asks. "Daphne and I were in the middle of a conversation."
"What I wanna know is what is up with you? Since the start of this year, you've practically been ignoring me! Everytime I've asked to do something, you always say you're busy!"
"That's because I am busy-"
"Doing what? Spending time with Daphne? Avoiding us?"
"(Y/N), no. It isn't-"
"It isn't what, Theodore? I see the way you look at Daphne. It's how you used to look at me."
At this point, (Y/N) was struggling to hold their tears back, releasing all the anger, frustration and pain they've been holding in.
"This whole time I've been pretending everything was fine, but in reality I was waiting for you to do something to save us. To show that you still love me."
"(Y/N) I still love you."
"If you still did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Theodore took a deep breath, obviously starting to get frustrated.
"Listen (Y/N), let's just go back to the party and talk about this later." Theo tells them.
"Oh? So you can avoid this whole conversation and me the rest of the night? To spend your night with someone else?"
"Honestly (Y/N), you're over exaggerating," Theodore scoffs. He turns and starts walking away from them.
"And where are you going?"
"Away. I think we need space right now. I'll see you after break."
Theodore leaves (Y/N) alone in the corridor. All (Y/N) could do was sob, feeling heartbroken. The next day, they took the next train and returned to the (L/N)'s manor.
"How has school been? Are you passing all your classes?" (Y/N)'s mother asked during lunch.
(Y/N) swallowed the piece of food in their mouth before responding. "It's been alright. I'm doing well in all my classes. I have O's and E's."
"And how are your friends?" (Y/N)'s father chimes in. "Oh and Nott's boy! How could I forget? How is he?"
"Oh Theodore! That boy is so sweet." (Y/N)'s mother said.
Of course they'd have to bring up Theodore. "Everyone's doing alright. We're just all busy with classes and preparing for NEWTs next year." said (Y/N), trying to avoid the topic of the Slytherin boy.
"You know," their mother begins. "I wouldn't mind if you and Theodore got married once you graduate from Hogwarts."
If (Y/N) had anything in their mouth, they would've done a spit take.
(Y/N)'s father agreed. "I think it would be wonderful! Uniting the Nott and (L/N) families."
(Y/N) didn't want to let their parents know what happened between the two. It would only cause more harm and could ruin any business going on between the two families. Besides, who'd want to marry the insecure heir of the (L/N)?
Not wanting to discuss this anymore (as well as losing their appetite), (Y/N) handing their plate to the families house elf before standing up.
"If you'll excuse me, I would like to do a bit of studying."
(Y/N) began walking straight to their room, until a specific set of doors caught their eye. They decide to take a detour and enter it. It was the room where Theodore and (Y/N) would spend their times hiding from the adults at the elegant pureblooded parties.
It looked about the same since they were last in it near the beginning of summer. Shelves of books filled from floor to ceiling, the fireplace was out, books strewn about on tables, and their most favorite part of this room, the large windows that shined sunlight on them. It was one of the major things that Theodore and (Y/N) liked about this room.
On one of the tables was a handkerchief with the initials T.N. embroidered on it. It was Theodore's.
One summer afternoon, (Y/N) and Theodore sat across from each other reading. Theodore heard small sniffs and looked up to see (Y/N) with tears welled up in their eyes.
"(Y/N) are you alright?" He asked them, concerned for their wellbeing.
(Y/N) looked up at him. "Oh, yes, sorry. I just got to a really emotional part in my book, but I'm alright."
Theodore put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a white cloth with the letters T.N. on it in gold.
"Here, (Y/N)," Theodore says as he hands it to them. "So you can wipe the tears. I hate to see you cry."
(Y/N) immediately takes the handkerchief and dabs the tears away. "Thank you so much Theo."
The boy gave them a smile. "Anything for you (Y/N)."
All (Y/N) could do was cry at the memory. The Theodore that they once loved, was practically gone. The love they had for each other has faded. They could no longer find the pulse leading to their love.
All that remain was the room that Theodore and (Y/N) had loved because of the light.
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missglaskin · 5 months
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Do you think Rhaenyra and Daemon would work together to get the Reader? I can see them forming a shaky truce and marrying after their spouses die, but still pushing for their respective sons to marry the Reader. Jace and Daemon's son constantly compete for the Reader’s love. I can also see Luke and Joff/Baela and Rhaena backing up their respective bros and adding to the chaos. Meanwhile, Aegon and Aemond are fuming at King’s Landing.
A big reason why Leanor and Rhaenyra’s marriage happened in the first place is under an agreement to share the reader, it was also a deal made between Viserys and Corlys. Daemon and Rhaenyra while marrying out of desire, also did under a similar agreement. But while they agreed to share her they are also simultaneously maneuvering behind each other’s backs on whose son she marries. 
With the marriage done so soon after their children’s death, Corlys and Rhaenys aren’t all too happy. In fact, they had hoped that they take the reader to themselves and have her reside on Driftmark.
Surprisingly, Rhaenys finds herself taking Daemon’s side, trying to persuade the reader to wed Viserion. Rhaenys even goes as far as to propose letting Jace wed Baela and Luke to Rhaena. However, even if Rhaenyra ever agrees to this proposal, she’ll continue to find ways to bring Jace and the reader close, having him accompany her whenever she goes, and even letting her ride Vermax during travels. 
Daemon, on the other hand, relies on Viserion to do it himself, he is his father’s son after all. Viserion is much more forward, participating in tournaments, and vying for the honor of crowning the reader, challenging any suitors who dare come between him and her.
The siblings also choose sides, with Luke and Joffrey supporting their brother and Baela and Rhaena doing the same to theirs. Baela and Rhaena have a better advantage as they can easily enjoy girl time with the reader, akin to sleepovers where they persuade you into giving in to their brother's advances. However, Luke and Joffrey somehow find a way of tricking you to help them with something only to find yourself conveniently alone with Jace. 
Despite, Viserion appearing to have an apparent advantage, it all changes when Viserys comes in. He of course advocates for Jace, in his eyes the reader deserves nothing more than to be a queen, and what a wonderful queen she’ll make. He’s also had his issues over the reader’s namesake, being Laenor’s daughter she had to have his Velaryon name; marrying Jace would solve all that without causing any problems with the Velaryons. Funny enough, Daemon himself finds weding Viserion to be a solution to that issue as well. 
Otto and Alicent, predictably, oppose both matches, with Alicent seeing all faults in Nyra’s sons and Otto is vehemently against the idea of a marriage between the reader and Daemon’s son. The two are doing all they can do to sabotage any potential matches, Otto is sure that all he needs is some time for when Aegon becomes king, they can just wed them.
Meanwhile, it doesn’t take one to say that the animosity between Aegon and Aemond is growing, but it intensifies with Viserion and Jace. Whenever the family visits, it usually ends with a fight breaking out. To prevent any possible accident mishaps, no more than one can participate in any tourneys.
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gayest-classiclit · 5 months
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Classic Literature Sexyperson Tournament; Round 1
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propaganda:
Quincey:
quincey deserves #1 sexyman prize. he is the token cowboy. in a gothlit book. his first instinct when in danger in to randomly shoot through windows to (scare the shit out of) protect his friends. he decided he would literally die for a group of people he met like 3 hours ago because they seemed nice enough. he's texan for christ's sake. tropes: angst (dead), bait, distinctive voice, LGTBQ+ coded (dracula polycule is canon bram told me so), himbo (-ish), well dressed (cowboy).
Dracula:
owwsaawoagghb. older gentleman who is very regal and polite and is a fucking vampire how much sexier can you get
Obv everyone knows vampire sexy. The sensuality of drinking blood is *chef's kiss*. But I just really wanted an excuse to share this one thing, that isn't even related directly to the novel. So, my junior year of high school we read Dracula, and then our class went on a field trip to see a local theatre group perform the Dracula stage play-- and EVERY TIME Dracula came on stage, his neckline would progressively dip Lower and Lower (like. Comedically so) until he was soooo close to showing just straight up tiddie, but still juuuust barely not-- the tease was immaculate and istg it was doing Something for everyone in the audience. It was transcendent. An awakening. Even all these years later when my old high school friends and I bring it up, the only detail we can remember from that performance is Count Dracula's plunging neckline and that's Gotta count for something right
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wttcsms · 27 days
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switchin' the positions for you, osamu miya
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pairing osamu miya x f!reader word count 2k synopsis osamu miya says you've got a lot to learn, rookie, and he's more than happy to teach you. content contains creampie, pet names (baby, good girl), slight praise kink (reader receiving), fwb to lovers, multiple positions, tennis player!reader author's notes to the requester: you know who you are, girl. give the masses (me) what i want: you to become a writer!!!
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“Fuck.” Osamu hisses out the word like it burns to have it escape through his gritted teeth. “D’ya like that, baby?” 
You can’t give him a coherent answer; it’s kind of hard to hold a conversation with him when he’s got you sitting all snug on his lap, cockhead hitting that special sensitive spot of yours that you never knew you had until you start your little arrangement with him. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s the only person capable of reducing you to a hot, whiny mess but when you instinctually tighten up around his cock, he lets out a soft, smug laugh. 
His warm breath tickles your ear when he leans down to tell you, “Told ya I’d teach you a thing or two.” 
You try to tilt your head back so your eyes can meet his. You don’t like looking up to people, but Osamu is just so big. You’re sitting on him, pussy clamping down on his fat cock that’s buried snugly inside of you, your back pressed against his muscular chest. The man owns a restaurant; surely hauling all those massive rice bags couldn’t have possibly given him this figure. You want to make a face, let him know that his “I told you so” is not appreciated, but when he makes eye contact with you, he gives you a smirk — a warning. A split second later, he thrusts up, and you can’t hold back your moan. 
He did that on purpose, you think to yourself. He’s always baiting you, always waiting for the right moment to catch you off guard. You’re a favorite to win the Japan’s Women’s tennis tournament; no one catches you off guard. 
But when you’re out on the road, traveling with your team, and your starvation-induced tantrum leads to your coach making a pitstop to some hole-in-the-wall restaurant named Onigiri Miya, you learn that it is possible for someone to trip you up. 
“So you’re the girl with the killer serve,” is what he says the first time he’s taking your order. “You don’t look like much of a killer to me.” 
You’re pissed, hungry, and still upset over hearing the men’s team talk about how you look good in your skirt and should consider modeling for Sports Illustrated instead of trying to make it big in tennis. You’re frowning when you tell him, “Are you the owner of this restaurant?” 
“Yep.” 
“Doesn’t look like much of a restaurant to me.” In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t be rude to the man handling your food. 
“It’s up and coming.” He says, eyes looking you up and down in a way that makes you suddenly very, very hyper aware of how fitted your top and how short your skirt is. He’s not ogling you; he’s sizing you up. Like you’re a challenge. “It’ll look it soon enough.” 
You like a good challenge. 
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When you come back the next week, high off your victory, you walk through the doors of Onigiri Miya, smug and prideful. 
The feeling intensifies whenever he tells you he saw your game, but you’re immediately dissatisfied when he hits you with a, “Ya still got a lot to learn, though.” 
Your first lesson? Taking three of his thick fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy as your back is pressed against the wall of the storage room of Onigiri Miya. There’s only one single light bulb flickering in the darkness of the pantry, but you don’t focus on that. Instead, you focus on the searing heat from between your thighs, too eager to chase after pleasure to care about the fact that you’re so wet, you can hear every thrust. 
You’re so close to cumming, you find yourself moving your hips upwards, trying to bring yourself to release even faster. He immediately stops his ministrations, making an annoyed sound of clear disapproval.
“You need to learn how to stop bein’ so damn greedy.” His words come out as a raspy whisper, and when your walls involuntarily clench around his fingers, there’s a small noise that seems to come from the back of his throat. He’s holding himself back. 
Somehow, the fact that you have a strong effect on him as well makes you so pleased, you find yourself gripping his shoulder as you disobediently grind against his fingers yourself, letting out a loud whine as you cum all over his hand. 
With heated cheeks and heavy breathing, you let Osamu Miya know that being greedy is what makes you such a star player. You don’t get by with just taking what’s given to you; everything, from points on the court to a more-than-satisfactory orgasm, is yours for the taking. 
You don’t expect him to just smile at your prideful remark, and you certainly don’t expect him to remove his fingers from you, hold them up to the light so you can both admire the way his index, middle, and ring fingers are glistening with your juices, before he licks the pads of them. 
Is the room heating up? Did the air conditioning suddenly break? You feel hotter than usual as you watch the vulgar display, and you should be ashamed of the way your knees are already weak from hitting your climax, ashamed of the way you have to press your thighs together so he doesn’t catch the way you’re already anticipating a round two. 
“Have a taste, baby.” He’s grinning, smiling like the damn devil himself, as he extends his hand, brings the tips of his fingers to your lips. You shake your head no, not trusting yourself to speak. 
He pretends to sound disappointed. “No?” Then with a shrug and a smug more for me then, he licks the rest of your essence off of his fingers. 
“I could go for a second helping.” 
The sentence barely leaves his mouth before you find yourself parting your thighs to welcome him back.
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Through the course of three months, you find yourself being taught various lessons from Osamu. He teaches you to mind your manners and refuses to fuck into you, choosing to tease you with the head of his cock instead. 
“Not gonna fuck ya ‘til you say please.” 
Like with your tennis matches, it all boils down to a game of stamina. Who can hold out the longest? His tip is wet and sticky with pre, and you can catch every hitch of his breath as he rubs against your clit. You’re soaking through his bedsheets, his bed being the only comfortable piece of furniture he has in his “work in progress” of a bachelor pad. 
He practices breathing exercises with you when he pushes himself as far as your little throat can take him. Drool will be dribbling out the corners of your swollen lips, and he has your hair bunched up in a makeshift ponytail, strands sloppily wrapped around his hand as he watches you try to take all of him in your mouth. 
“You gotta breathe through your nose, baby. Atta girl, that’s my good girl.”
He teaches you that you like praise. 
He’s more observant than you realize. You can tell from the way he recaps and analyzes your matches with you after a particularly rough game, and you can tell from the way he’ll notice if the way he has you bent over the kitchen counter is uncomfortable for you. He knows you like the way he gives it to you hard, sloppy, messy. You have a meticulous training routine, every aspect of your life reduced to a bullet point on an itinerary from your personal coach. 
It makes sense that his sloppy kisses, the ones that leave your lips swollen, the ones that are less than kisses and more of just messy exchanges of spit, are your favorites. You like being reduced to a wet, boneless, fucked out little mess, and you like it because it’s all coming from him. He has a business to tend you, and you have a professional athletic career, and yet, the world is reduced to his barebones apartment bedroom. No tennis matches, no food truck deliveries to worry about.
Just your back pressed against his chest, the thin material of your athletic tanktop and his tight fitted compression shirt doing nothing to stop the searing exchange from both of your bodies’ heat. 
“Told ya I’d teach you a thing or two.”
All you can do is close your eyes and lose yourself to the overwhelming pleasure of having him buried to the hilt inside of you. 
“You’re so good for me, ya know that?” You like the way he grunts out the words, punctuating each word with a thrust that has you clinging to his forearm, both of his hands wrapped tightly around your stomach so you can stay still, stay easily accessible for him. “You’re not just my good girl, you’re my best girl.”
You let his words of praise soak you to the bone. You’re letting out desperate, high-pitched, needy whines, and there’s no more holding back on his end. He’s fucking into you with the stamina and strength that rivals some athletes. 
You finish first; you always do. You tried, once, to get him to cum before you, but once he caught on to your little scheme, he stretched your body, had your legs folded and sore as he fucked into you almost angrily, like getting him off before you have is something he takes personal offense to. 
He’s addicted to watching you cum. The way you can’t control your body, your tight, always stressed out body that only seems able to relax when he’s smothering you, his body heat getting lost and mixed up with yours. You fit so perfectly against him, under him, on top of him. When you cum, you tilt your head back, resting against his shoulder. Your eyes look dazed, almost like you’re unable to see straight, but he stares at you, smiling as he realizes that every time you cum, you can’t help but search for him. 
When he finishes inside of you, you think you’re close to cumming again. The rush of hot, thick heat flooding your now-sloppy insides has you whining so cutely, he almost wants to start fucking into you again. But he doesn’t. Instead, he lets you rest, gives you a minute to catch your breath. 
“I don’t normally do this, y’know.” He sounds a bit out of breath, and it fills you with deep satisfaction to know that you’re capable of having this effect on him. It’d be embarrassing to be beat in a contest of stamina when you’re the professional athlete here. 
“So you’ve said.” 
Osamu is busy with his business, and you’re busy with tennis. The two of you know that there’s not a lot of room for a relationship, but the two of you are also well aware of the fact that there’s something more to this than just good sex. It’s obvious in the way he holds you, and it’s obvious in the way you let him. He wants to cook you good food and to meet his mother, and you want him at all your games, to dedicate your victory speeches to him. 
“I wanna do this right.” And he’s so sincere when he says it that it makes your heart flutter, gives you the unfamiliar sensation of butterflies in your tummy. “I wanna take you out on dates and for you to meet my family.” 
“I’ve never been in a relationship.” You admit this to him, even though he already knows. “So, I wouldn’t know what’s the ‘right’ way to go about it, anyway.” You peer up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “But you promised you’d teach me a thing or two.”
“Yeah?” The word comes out breathless, full of anticipating, wanting, hope.
“And I think I really don’t mind being taught every once in a while.”
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