#and that many athletes and coaches praised him continuing after that

[jesuistrestriste]

♡ Cooking & Cleaning; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: service sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/fem reader, use of ma'am as an honorific, brief food play, oral sex (reader receiving), begging, handjob, brief edging, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms (character receiving), dry orgasm

wc: 6.3 k (whoops)

note: this was pulled from the most depraved parts of my brain. i refuse to be held accountable for the absolute filth this contains ! :)

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The very second that your key is in the apartment door and you're finally home, you find your legs nearly collapsing underneath you as you step inside and kick off your black kitten heels.

"God," you groan, shutting the door behind you before you move to peel your chic new blazer off of your shoulders. You toss it onto the coatrack nearby and bring a handful of your fingers up to your forehead to rub at it tensely, sighing deeply.

It had been a long day at the USTA (United States Tennis Association) office, and all you wanted to do was come home and see your husband.

-

After Art had lost several important and consecutive tennis matches, as well as his confidence on the court (despite his actual tennis skills still being phenomenal -- he just psyched himself out too much), he had decided to give up his life as a professional athlete.

At first, this devastated you. Not only did you love your partner and believe in him throughout his career, as well as believing in his very real ability to eventually win the US Open, but this decision of his also meant that your position as his coach would become obsolete..

You actually became quite anxious about you and Art's future at the time.. you had needed a purpose, and so did he. You both were just those kinds of people; you and him both wanted to feel that you were contributing to something bigger than just yourselves, and that you were being useful to someone or something.

Luckily, his many previous years of successful tennis playing had scored you and him a shit ton of wealth. Like, genuinely a lot. You were beyond grateful, but you still wanted a life of your own. You didn't dare to think about the idea of becoming a stay-at-home wife while he went out and did whatever he wanted. Yuck. It just wasn't for you.

Your fears and inner turmoil about this change in your lives were quickly eased once Art had sat you down about two weeks after he had left his tennis career behind. He had taken your hands in his, smiled softly like he always did, and told you that he wanted to stay at home and take care of everything in it while you went out and continued your career in the field of professional athletics.

Of course, you immediately and excitedly agreed with the idea of this new plan, and then that was that!

You two developed new lives and new roles as people over a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the love you two shared. That always stayed consistent and at the center of everything.

Eventually, after a month or so of coming home from your new job to Art doing things like vacuuming the wooden floors of your guys' expensive New York apartment, or making elaborate protein-packed smoothies for the gym sessions that you two still did together, you came to realize that the whole "house husband" persona was actually kinda hot.

He had realized it too. Quicker than you had, actually. In fact, he can distinctly remember the overwhelming feeling of heat that had pooled deep in his gut the first time he had ever served you a home-cooked meal after you came home from a long day at your new job. He had gently rubbed your sore feet that night while you ate, and then suddenly couldn't find a way to deny how this new practice of.. servicing you.. made him feel.

I mean, God, he loved doing that stuff for you.. cooking.. tidying.. pampering.. washing.. he would do it all. You knew that he worshipped the ground that you walked on—reminding yourself constantly of the time he had admitted to you during sex that he believed he would be "nowhere without you"—and you devoured the increased sense of power that came with it every. single. time. It eventually became very easy and comfortable for you to let him take care of you. You grew hungry for it.

And then this persona of his, over time, dissolved into something much more intimate..

-

After tossing your blazer on the rack and rubbing at your temples, you drag your pantyhose-covered feet across the floor and into the kitchen.

Your nose is instantly filled with the aroma of fluffy, vanilla sweetness and a bit of nutmeg. you sigh happily as you turn the corner and see Art standing over a mess of what appears to be flour and sugar in a large bowl on the kitchen counter. He looks over his shoulder briefly with a smile as he mixes the dry ingredients together with a whisk.

“Hey, hon,” he grins, before turning back to look down at his current baking project.

you shuffle up behind him and hug him, your cheek pressing against his warm upper back as your arms reach to wrap gently around his abdomen. You sigh deeply.

“Hey, babe.. ‘m so tired. It was such a long day.”

He laughs softly, which shakes you a bit as you hold him.

“What’d your colleagues do now?”

You shake your head against him, groaning dramatically.

“I don’t want to talk about it.. what are you baking? It smells good in here.”

“Nothing crazy, it’s just some holiday cookies. I found the recipe online this morning after you left.”

“How many are you planning to make? There’s already some in the oven,” you ask, peeking around his frame from behind to see him set the bowl aside and wipe his hands on the apron he’s wearing. (It was white with small pink hearts by the pockets. You got it for him when he started cooking for you everyday, and he used to feel weird about it. He said it made him feel “slightly emasculated”, but he quickly grew to absolutely adore it. It was just another way for you to claim him as your personal chef. One night before you got home, he jerked off while wearing it, but he would never tell you that.)

“I don’t really know,” he shrugs and chuckles sheepishly, “there are twelve baking right now, but I thought that maybe I could make some for our neighbors.”

You chuckle softly, your hands disconnecting from their place on his stomach to reach down and give his ass a small squeeze. He jumps a little at the feeling, embarrassed laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“Where’d all this holiday cheer come from?” you smirk, pulling back from your position against his back to lean your hip against the counter. You just wanted to look at his pretty face. Your eyes quickly fixate on the fact that he’s got a bit of flour on his flushed cheek.. It’s only a small puff and smear of the white substance near his jaw, but for some reason it starts a flame in your lower stomach. There was just something about the way he got a little messy when he cooked or baked for you.

His cheeks plump up in shape ever-so-slightly as he grins at you.

“I don’t know.. I had time before you got home- I mean, well, before i thought you’d get home, and so i thought I’d just-”

You take a step forward, nodding at his words while your body is now only inches from his. You look up into his glassy blue eyes.

“You thought you’d just.. what?” you purr, your hand coming up to caress his lower back.

He swallows thickly, briefly looking down at the mess on the counter before he looks back to you. His body temperature is steadily rising as he feels your fingertips caress him over his loose t-shirt.

“I just thought I’d make some more,” he whispers.

You lean in, reaching your other hand up to gingerly hold the side of his neck while you press a kiss to it.

“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

He nods, slowly, his eyelids fluttering slightly at the feeling of your mouth on him.

“I..I mean, yeah, I guess.”

You lean in a bit more, sucking softly at his neck. His head lolls a bit forward, and you nip at him when the sound of his shaky breathing reaches your ears.

You pull back, a small smirk covering your face as you look up at him.

His focus darts from your eyes to your lips as he reaches both of his hands out for your waist, but he’s rudely interrupted when the timer for the oven goes off— cookies are done.

You both nearly jump out of your skin at the sound; the incessant beeping pulling you both out of the thick fog of tension between your bodies and minds.

“Shit,” he mumbles, flushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns off the timer at the top of the oven and moves to hastily grab an oven mitt from the lower drawer.

He pulls open the oven door, and you step back to watch him pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove area.

He sighs, pulling off the mitt and setting it aside as he leans over the cookies. His eyes are inspecting each one, and he has a very focused expression plastered on his face. He was as much of a perfectionist in the kitchen as he used to be on the court, that was for sure.

Your body moves in to stand beside him, also peering down at the tray of gorgeous golden-brown cookies. You place a hand on his upper back, rubbing it encouragingly.

“These look incredible,” you say, smiling at him.

He nods, still inspecting them, “They look better than I thought they would.. I actually messed up earlier and accidentally added three-fourths of a cup of sugar instead of two-thirds..”

“They look perfect, don’t stress.”

He looks to you, his gaze meeting yours and then suddenly everything was back to how it was before the timer went off. His hands reach for your waist, squeezing at your hips as he looks lovingly down at you.

“Be proud of yourself, Art.. you did a good job,” you laugh softly, your hands reaching up to cup his face. He pulls you closer.

“I am.”

“Are you?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

You suddenly get a very filthy idea.

“Can.. can you tell me what the recipe called for?”

His brows furrow slightly as he seems taken aback by your request, his cock already starting to stir to life in his sweatpants just from holding your body. He didn’t want to talk about the damn cookies anymore.

“What?”

You roll your eyes, one of your hands dropping from his face to reach around the fabric of the front of his apron and grope him over his sweats. Your other hand moves down too, but just to gently hold the side of his torso. His whole body jolts forward and his lips part instantly.

“You’ll like where this is headed, trust me. Just talk to me.. tell me what you did to make the cookies look so perfect..”

He breathes unsteadily, his fingers digging into your waist as he feels your hand start to work his cock up to a full-blown, hot, twitchy erection.

“I.. uhm.. I just..” he breathes out, his eyes growing lidded as he absentmindedly bucks up against your touch, still trying to maintain eye contact as pleasure starts to flood his senses, “one cup of b-butter.. ngh-!.. two cups.. two cups of flour… and then- ugh!- two.. two-thir-r-ds.. of..”

His voice trails off, shaky and low and broken as he hangs his head a bit, leaking incessantly into his boxers. It was that easy for you to work him up.

You frown, “Uh oh.. come on, baby, don’t go nonverbal on me that quick.. we’ve just barely gotten started…”

A small whimper leaves his chest as he tries to finish his words, “Two-thirds, I m-mean- three-f-fourths of a c-cup of.. s-su.. sugar… one teasp’of vanilla.. and.. o-one.. teaspoon of nutm-eg.”

You smile, stroking his cock over the fabric of his pants, “Good boy.. God, you’re so pretty when you’re slurring for me..”

He moans obscenely, melting at the praise while he feels his length grow suddenly intensely hot. A certain kind of numbness starts to creep over his crotch before his hands are flying from your hips to your wrist.

“Wait! W-Wait!” he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he blows a concentrated shaky breath from his lips, his fingertips digging into your arm.

Your eyebrow lifts and you smile as you take in the way his body shakes and shudders as he holds it in for you. He knows how to behave.. what would make you happy.. what would make you disappointed.. After all, he’s been trained by you in more than just tennis.

“Close?” you whisper.

His body starts to slowly relax again as he regains some of his composure. He blinks his eyes back open slowly, looking into yours.

“Very,” he groans.

You pull your hands from his body, and he whines softly.

“Take off the apron. Put it on the floor.”

You’re sure you’ve never seen him move so fast— his hands reaching behind his back and undoing the tied string. Then, he pulls the apron off over his head, tossing it off to the side. He watches you study him with parted lips, and he bites onto his own.

“Now take your sweats off for me.”

He does as he’s told; his shaky fingers reaching down to slip his pants down to his lower thighs, and then down to his knees and ankles, and then he steps out of them. He kicks them gently next to where the apron was thrown, now making a mess of grey and white fabric where both items pooled on the kitchen floor.

You step close to his body, cupping his face before running a hand through his messy strawberry-blonde locks. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to travel solely down to the bulge prominently pressing against the inside of his navy boxer briefs. You run a fingertip up and over the outline of his dick, relishing in the way it makes him shake. He was now just in his tee shirt, boxers, and white socks, while you stayed fully clothed. But not for too much longer.

"My pretty husband.." you coo to him, making his lips part to let out a few uneven breaths. You glance around his frame and notice a bowl off to the side that had remnants of the soft cookie dough from the first batch of the cookies. You smirk.

You lean forward and swipe your thumb along the inside of the bowl, gathering some of the sugary, buttery mixture on your digit. His gaze remains lidded and locked onto your face, not finding any importance in your hand's movements at the kitchen counter. You bring your thumb back in, showing him what you did.

He spares your thumb a quick glance, but then his eyes are back on yours, and then your lips, and then the way that your breasts are peeking out from the low-cut collar of your work top. You bring your thumb up to his mouth.

"Open," you whisper.

He does as he's told, parting his lips further and leaning in to encourage your finger to slip past them.

You push your cookie dough-covered thumb into his mouth, feeling him immediately begin to suckle on it; his tongue swirled over it, and his eyes fluttered shut right after they began to roll back. His brows furrow, and a couple of faint whines bubble up out of him as the taste of his homemade sweetness melts seamlessly on his palate.

While your thumb is in his mouth, you push it down softly on his tongue.

"Knees, baby," you say breathlessly.

Art knew this command like the back of his hand.

Effortlessly and steadily, he dropped down to his knees one after the other, keeping your digit in his mouth the entire time. He didn't dare let it go. He moved to sit on his calves.

"Good job.. good boy..."

He whimpered, the vibrations of his pathetic sounds causing your hand to buzz slightly.

"I want your mouth on my cunt.. can you do that for me, darling?" you purr, running your hand through his hair for a moment. He nods around you.

"Y'sh, m'm.." he mumbled, trying his best to speak while still relishing your touch with enough attention.

You pull your thumb from the heat of his wet mouth, and smirk as you watch his lips chase after it.

"What was that?"

You already had a good idea about what he had murmured, but it was just.. best to be sure.

"Yes, ma'am," he gasps out softly, his eyes glazed over.

He reaches up and pulls at your skirt, shimmying it down and over your ass and thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. You kick it aside, and lean your back against the countertop. Art positions himself on his knees so that he's on the floor in front of you, looking up at you. His hands shakily reach up to the sides of your pantyhose, his tongue licking out over his bottom lip. He digs his fingers into the taut fabric and looks up at you once more, beginning to pull them down.

Immediately you grab his wrists, halting his movements. His eyes look up into yours, worried that he had made a wrong move, but you shake your head with a soft smile.

"You can rip them."

He doesn't even mean to, but he moans when you give him permission to be a little desperate right now.

In an instant, his strong hands are pulling needily at your tights, causing them to rip from your crotch to your lower thighs. He hooks one of his index fingers into the inside of your panties, his thighs tensing up at the feeling of your wetness, and then he's pushing them to the side. His tongue rests out over his bottom lip as he leans in, holding the back of your leg with his free hand as his eyes flutter shut and he engulfs your heat with his mouth.

"Oh, fuck-!" you yelp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his soft curls, "fuck, fuck, that feels good, Art, don't stop.."

He moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he lathes his tongue up and down and over your wet hole. He lewdly sucks and swallows your slick that's quickly spilling over his tongue, trying to focus harder on your pleasure (and less on the feeling of his cock throbbing rapidly in his boxers.. he can feel himself leaking).

You remove your hands from his hair and move to unsteadily grip the countertop, your back pressing hard against it. Art hums around you in his mouth, moving his tongue up to lick sloppily at your clit. He opens his eyes, his brows furrowed, and looks up at you.

"God, you're so good at this.. you're doing so well.. i'm getting.. close.." you breathe out, studying the upper half of his face while the lower half remains buried in your pussy.

He doubles his efforts, smushing his face deeper against you, his lips pursing to suckle against your sensitive nub as his grip on your leg tightens. Art has half a mind at that moment to just scoot forward a bit and slot your ankle between his thighs, but he won't. You came first, in his mind. Literally, and figuratively.

You sling the leg that he's holding over his shoulder, giving him more access, and then you begin to feel an overwhelming, hot numbness creep over your lower half..

"ANGH!" you moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as your body begins to shake. Your fingers grip the kitchen counter so hard that you're afraid you'll break a nail.

"I'm going to cum, Art..!"

"Mm! Mm-mm!"

"I'm.. oh my god.... I'm... I'm-! Cumming-!" you whine, feeling your orgasm crash over you.

"MM-!" he laps at your pulsing cunt, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open so that he can watch the way your beautiful face moves to contort in ecstasy.

You groan and whine as your orgasm's aftershocks are uncomfortably prolonged by Art's relentless tongue, and your hands release the marble countertop to reach down and grab two soft fistfuls of his hair. You try to tug his head back from your cunt, but he just closes his eyes and presses his nose and mouth further against your core. The repetitive movements of his tongue over your folds cause lewd, wet noises to fill the kitchen.

"Art... A-Art..! Enough!" you slur out as the pleasure from before starts to melt into a prickly sting of oversensitivity.

His eyes flutter open and you shoot him a warning glance as he peers up at you.

"I said enough, yeah?" you snap, "stand up."

He immediately pulls his mouth away from your sticky body and stands up on shaky legs. His eyes look downward, guiltily avoiding your gaze, as he wipes at the clear slick covering his chin with the back of his hand.

You try to catch your breath for a moment, studying his chest as it heaves up and down -- him trying to catch his breath all the same. You reach out and take his lower jaw softly in one hand, forcing him to look at you properly.

"You got a little fucking greedy there for a minute.. didn't you?"

He bites his bottom lip for a second, nervously chewing on the inside of it as he debates what answer he could give that would result in the least amount of punishment from you.

"Did you hear what I said?" you whisper coldly, taking a step closer to him as your hand grazes against the erection standing proudly in his underwear.

His body automatically jolts forward, and he lets out a shaky breath as his brow twitches. "Yeah.. I did.." he huffs out.

You smirk, wrapping your hand around him over the dark blue fabric, "And what do you think, hm? Were you being greedy?"

He looks deep into your eyes, his lips parting as he feels you start to stroke him. He tries to stop it, but his hips start to shallowly buck against your grasp, and now he can't get any words out. He wants to, but he just.. he really can't.

You roll your eyes.

"You know what I want you to say, honey. Use that big brain of yours."

He moans softly, his hands coming up to hold the sides of your upper arms as his eyes grow lidded.

"I'm.. I was being greedy.. I'm greedy," he moans lowly, thrusting into your hand a bit quicker and with a tad bit more abandon.

"Yeah, yeah you are. You're a greedy little whore for this, aren't you?"

He nods slowly but repeatedly as his brows pinch together and his breathing picks up.

"Yesss," he says brokenly, his voice straining a little as his moans start to become whimpers and whines, "I'm.. s' greedy for you.. jus' for you.. mm..!"

You nod and smirk up at him as his face becomes pinker and pinker, "That's it, pretty boy.. good job. You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"

He lets out an obscenely loud moan as his abdomen curls in over itself a bit, his hands gripping the sleeves of your work top and pulling helplessly at the fabric as he feels a spurt of precome burst into the inside of his boxers.

You chuckle a little as you watch him visibly get closer to his climax, but then he suddenly releases the hold on one of your sleeves and urgently grabs the hand that's moving over his clothed length.

You look down to where his hand holds yours, and he lets out a filthy whimper as he pulls your touch off of him and then urgently pushes your hand past his waistband and down into the front of his boxers. You gasp at his seemingly impulsive actions, feeling your fingers finally come into contact with his slicked-up cockhead. Your fingertips just barely brush over his hot, leaking slit.. sliding over a thick glob of pre.. and then he's being sent over the edge. To the average person, the touch would be essentially imperceptible, but not to him.. not to Art. He was just far too sensitive.

Your husband lets out a startled cry as he doubles over your frame in front of him and frantically moans, his whole body trembling and tensing as his balls draw up, "I'm cumming!"

You don't even have time to really process what's happening until you feel your hand being covered in warm fluid, the substance dripping down your fingertips as Art basically comes untouched. You look up at him, dumbfounded, before you feel your abdomen grow warm and tingly. That was kinda.. hot?

"Jesus, baby," you whisper breathlessly as his hips jolt a few more times before stilling as he gulps air down into his lungs, "didn't realize you were that worked up.. that was a little quick, no?"

He moans softly, still feeling your fingers graze him inside of his boxers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." he says, his breathing hitching in his throat as he tries to get the words out in spite of the pleasure still thrumming through his veins. He was still rock hard.

You smile, quickly using your clean, opposite hand to pull his boxers down to his lower thighs. His length slaps up lightly against his stomach before bobbing out in front of him, a tiny pearl-like bead of cum still leaking from his tip. He sighs shakily as he looks down at himself, and then up at you. You wrap your cum-covered hand around the base of his shaft, causing Art to jerk forward from sensitivity. He pulls a sharp breath in, his face scrunching up a little as he tries to control his body.

"I'll let you cum again," you start, watching his eyes light up, "but! you need to give me a warning this next time, okay? I want a clear warning, love."

He nods at your words, a more serious expression plastering over his face, "I will, I promise.. I.. I can give you a proper warning, ma'am.." he whispers.

And with that, you slide your hand from his base to his tip in one smooth motion, your thumb gliding over the head.

"GAH-!" he shudders forward, hissing in pain for a moment before he starts to moan again.

"You okay? Can you handle this?" you ask, your tone soft but seductive as you try to tease him but also legitimately check in. You two were always good at looking out for the other's wellbeing during your sessions together; the exchange of love and tender-care came easily to you both-- it was never something either of you had to question.

He nods, "Yeah, yes-ss, I can t-take it.." he slurs a little, watching your hand move up and down over his throbbing length.

"Look up into my eyes, darling," you purr, your hand starting to pick up speed, "does it feel good?"

He meets your eyes, his blue ones swimming with lust and desperation as he felt the beginnings of his second orgasm start to creep in, "Yes, fuck-! Yes! It feels so fucking good--!" he whines.

"Remember what we just talked about?"

He nods fervently, sucking his plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his focus darts from one of your eyes to the other. You speed up your hand, squeezing his shaft a little more to give him some pressure that you assume he needs.

He keens instantly, a loud moan rumbling from his chest as his thighs start to shake and his eyes squeeze shut.

"Art," you murmur in a seductive but warning tone.

He shakes all over, nodding his head, before his back stiffens up and he becomes incredibly tense. You keep your hand moving at the same fast pace, hoping his memory today is as good as his stamina.

"I'm going to cum," he whispers quickly, bringing his hands up to hold onto your shoulders as he pulls you closer.

You smile in approval, leaning in close to his ear and breathing warmly against his skin as you speak softly, "thank you for telling me, angel. do you want to cum for me?"

He nods, whining out a hasty "mhm". He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your hot words against his upper neck.

You press a chaste kiss there, and then you slide your hand up to gently grip his shaft while your thumb moves to rapidly swipe over his frenulum.

"Come."

And he does just that.

Art's back arches as soon as your one commanding word reaches his ears, cumming uncontrollably with an abrupt cry of pleasure. At first, his body is incredibly rigid as he lets go, his brows pinched up together as he feels the first, pulsing waves of his orgasm hit him, but then the full sensation of his release hits him and his whole body shudders deeply. He lets out little breathy moans and gasps as he relishes in the bursts of pleasure rolling over his cock. You slow your thumb down a bit as you watch him spurt rope after rope over your hand and onto the kitchen floor as he comes undone for you a second time.

"Fucking hell," you moan, now going back to stroking him fully instead of just rubbing a digit against his tip.

He grits his teeth in an instant, being pulled from his afterglow by the feeling of your hand forcing him back into a feeling of overstimulation. "Ah-! Ah!.. T-Too much, too much," he whimpers, his hands instinctively reaching down from your shoulders to push at your hand that's currently working him towards a third, uncomfortable orgasm that he's not even sure he wants anymore.

You use the hand that's not stroking him to move his hands away from your occupied one, giving him a small shake of your head.

"Hands behind your back, please. We're not done yet, okay?" you coo.

He quickly follows orders, moving both of his hands behind his back and away from his aching length, although not without letting out a sniffly whine of protest first.

"Please, ma'am.. I'm.. I can't do it I can't do it-- I'm-- AH!"

You cut off his soft moans of agony with a brief squeeze to the base of his dick, looking intently up into his eyes through your lashes.

"If you really want to stop, baby," you tilt your head teasingly, "you can always use the safeword, yeah?"

He bites his lip before he lets out a warped cry, his head lolling backwards in the same instant. You stop moving your hand.

"Art, darling," you whisper to him comfortingly.

He brings his head back upright to look down into your eyes, his face blank with pleasure; he almost looked drunk. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted to let out harsh little breaths of air as he tried to regain some semblance of being grounded in his own, ruined body.

You reach your free hand up to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over the side of his face.

"Does it really hurt that bad? You know that you can be honest," you whisper, now a little concerned that maybe you pushed him too far.

He thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly and swallowing a bit of drool that he realized has been collecting in his mouth for the past minute or so, "N-Just a little.." he breathes out.

You nod, giving him one soft stroke of his come-covered cock. He gasps and his torso jolts at the sensation, faint tears springing to his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," you hum, "should we stop here then? I think maybe that would be best for you.. you've already done so well for me.."

The latter half of your sentence, that subtle bit of praise, gives him all the motivation he needs to want to unravel again.

He looks down at his still-hard cock, and then back up at you, and shakes his head. His tongue pokes out over his bottom lip and wets it as he tries to collect his thoughts.

"No.. no, I can do- I can go again, ma'am.. I pro-promise.." he slurs out, thrusting up into your hand.

You raise a skeptical brow at him and his movements, keeping your hand still.

"Are you sure? You know that I won't be upset with you if you want to stop, Art."

He shakes his head again, his lip trembling, "Please."

You smile softly and start to move your hand up and down over his cock again. Despite his previous indications that it was painful, the feeling has now seemed to morph back into unfiltered pleasure as he lets out a high-pitched moan of your name. He babbles endlessly, a mixture of pleas for more, letting out repetitive mumblings of "feels good", and "yes", and an assortment of stuttered expletives.

It doesn't take long for Art to get close again.

"I think 'm gonna come again," he mumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as his head slumps forward against your shoulder. You stroke him quicker, focusing on his hypersensitive tip as you feel a drip of precome come out.

"Oh? You want to come again?" you tease coyly.

You could be cruel sometimes. He had known that this part was coming eventually.

He shakes his head against the crook of your neck with a whine, "don't do this, please.."

You stop your hand at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm just as his load started to rise up his length. Art bites back an obscenely loud moan of protest that is dying to be let out..

"No, no no noo," he squirms against you, repetitively shaking his head as his face remains buried in your neck.

"You know what you need to do, darling."

"Please," he moans, "let me come.."

"You want to come?"

"Yes."

"You do?"

"YES..!"

"How should I make you come?"

"Can y- keep stroking my- I want my cock to be- I-" he mumbles incoherently.

You place your free hand on the back of his head, pushing your fingers pleasurably into his hair as he trembles against you.

"You want me to keep jerking you off? Hm?"

"Y-Yes-ss!" he moans out brokenly, using every bit of restraint within himself to resist the urge to move his hands from behind his back and relieve his aching parts.

He would never do that, though.. no matter how much he wanted to. He would always follow your wants and needs first. Those were most important to him.

"Ask me for what you need again. Nicely; just the way I like it."

"Please, can I come?"

"Again."

He whines, his hips involuntarily bucking up against your stilled hand wrapped around him.

"Please," he sobs, "can I please come for you?"

"Yes, honey, you can come."

You start to stroke his cock once again, and within just a few pumps Art is releasing again. Even though you can't see them because his face is still in your shoulder, his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head as he lets out a couple pitiful squirts of white, sticky liquid over your hand. "Ooh, that's it.. good boy.. are you my pretty little slut?"

When Art hears this, he isn't exactly sure what happens, but it's like the orgasm that's already halfway finished just completely starts over.

"Ohh my fucking- oh my god-dd-! Ugh! HNGH-!"

It's like every single nerve ending in his body is lighting up at once, and he can't do a damn thing about it.. he can't stop it...

His legs nearly go limp underneath him, and he has to lean further into you to prevent himself from collapsing.

Art then releases the most pornographic moans you've ever heard and tenses up in your hold all over again. You're not really sure what's happening until he--

"I'm cumming again! I'm cumm-m-ing-! Again! Ohmyfucking--! GOD!"

He whines and sobs against your body, his arms still held behind his back as you feel his cock jump and pulse in your hand again. This time, nothing comes out. It's odd because it's clear that he's cumming for a fourth time, but there's nothing to show for it.

You slow your hand but continue to stroke his length which is now covered in the creamy-white filth of his previous loads. His cock softens a little, but you're unsure when his orgasm ends because, again, nothing is coming out.

Art's frame suddenly begins to jerk around every time your hand brushes over his tip, and he lets out a hiss of discomfort through his gritted teeth and a sniffle afterwards. As soon as you hear that, you know he's done and you quickly remove your hand. Any extra stimulation and he'd genuinely start to cry. You could save that for another time.. if he wanted you to.

You move your other hand from his hair to his clothed upper back and rub small, comforting circles over it.

"I've got you," you whisper, "you did such a good job, baby. You just came dry for me."

He nods, sniffling wetly and exhaustedly.

You continue to rub his back for a minute or so in silence as he comes back down to earth; the pleasurable waves of his release's aftershocks allowing him to bask in the ebb and flow of it all as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.

"I feel weak," he groans softly.

You nod, "I'm right here, you're okay.. take some deep breaths for me, honey."

He nuzzles deeper against your neck and sighs contentedly, the fuzziness in his head starting to dissipate with your caring words and gentle touch.

"You're my good boy," you whisper, pressing your cheek against the side of his head.

"Mhmm," he hums, "always for you."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

notes; WOAH. ok. so this has been like months in the making by now i think..? but i finally finished it :D thank u so much to everyone who has been patiently/loyally waiting for this one after i teased it for over a month on this blog 😭 + thank u to anyone who gave me some kind words of encouragement when i had to put this aside for a while. i luv u guys !! <3

reblogs are always allowed + appreciated!

[partyanimal167]

Talk Me Through It- Miguel x F!Reader

Someone (me) has discovered nsfw audios and has not recovered. I've also been into the nerd!Miguel fics that have been going around, but I won't bully him much in mine lol. I'm trying to get some nsfw practice in before I continue my multi-fic, so

cw: nsfw, mdni, fem reader, college au, author knows some Spanish, acquaintances to lovers, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, munch Miguel

Who was this? ...WHO! Ain't no way...he sound like that? Shit...

You barely stopped yourself from dropping your head on the desk as another student finished presenting their speech. You had mixed feelings about your Public Speaking class considering your major, but there were worse subjects to take. You already presented yours and were only staying to review other students' for extra credit.

You tapped your pencil absentmindedly as the next student stood to speak. You sat up a little better in your seat seeing who it was.

Miguel O'Hara grabbed people's attention whether he meant to or not. He took up space with his height, broad shoulders, and overall built physique. People were very shocked to learn that he was not an athlete his freshman year, and it probably haunted the football coach every season. You only knew him from hearsay and the occasional interaction when he was at the library during your work-study. You noticed him. It was impossible not to, so you were a bit intrigued to say the least.

The man stood at the front of the class and stumbled to get his laptop connected to the projector. Before beginning, he took out a pair of thin-framed glasses and cleared his throat.

"The work-life balance is something that many experts agree contributes to one's personal health. Yet there are many careers that demand inconsistent hours and strenuous work in order for progress to be made. How-," the man paused when he glanced from the screen to the array of faces looking back at him. He blanked for a moment, and you weren't sure if it was nerves or stress. After a moment, an awkward fake cough seemed to break his daze. He went on.

The presentation was actually pretty informative in your opinion, and Miguel did get his points across. You were surprised by the nervous emotions and little habits he displayed. He seemed to try to find a face to latch onto for eye-contact, and more than once did it feel like he was looking at you. You weren't quite sure, but it didn't matter really. He looked a tinge embarrassed when he finished and grabbed his things, but you hope it didn't bother him too much. People freeze, stutter, mispronounce things all the time.

After class you went to grab some lunch with your friends before the afternoon classes began. Your school was very diverse, and it excited you when you could hear different languages spoken at different tables. It was the main reason why you were taking a Spanish class as an elective. The world was connected in many ways, and many people around the world could speak two or even three languages. You glanced through your Spanish notes for a moment as you remembered that there was a project being assigned today. You were nervous, but your friends told you you were worrying for no reason.

...

"It's seem we'll be working together." That smooth voice grabbed your attention as people were packing up to go. You turned and looked up to see Miguel leaning on a desk near you. "I promise this project is going to go a lot better than that speech I gave earlier."

Oh so he did notice you. You smiled and shook your head. "Oh don't worry about that. Your speech was fine." you insisted. "Besides, why are you taking this class any way?" you were sure you had seen him giving parent tours for prospective international students.

Miguel chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders. "Easy A." You figured, but you also couldn't blame him. "How do you feel about presenting in Spanish though?"

You tilted your hand a little. "Eh I'm kinda okay with it. I'm much better reading it than speaking, but I can hold a conversation."

Miguel seemed to light up hearing that. "Verdad? De donde eres?" (Really? Where are you from?)

You didn't expect him to switch so soon, but you continued with the conversation. "Aqui, pero estudie espanol para cuatro anos y muchos gentes a la mi trabajo hablar." You knew what you said wasn't perfect, but Miguel nodded his head along as you spoke. (Here, but I studied Spanish for four years, and many people at my job speak)

"Bueno, pero tu sonas muy nerviosa. Por que?" You thought you were in your head, but somehow it felt as if he was expressing himself more in this language. You couldn't help but blush from the change. (Good, but you sound nervous. Why?)

You chuckled. "I am nervous. I like to say things correctly, and it's hard when I know I'm wrong."

Miguel shook his head. "Me gusta como tu sonas." he grinned. "Well, I'll text you my schedule, and we can find a time for us to meet up."

"Sweet! I look forward to working with you." you beamed.

The man softened a little. "Same."

~~~

You slumped in bed scrolling through your phone trying to find something to occupy the night. There were a couple of shows you could watch, comics to read, or just endless scrolling. You were looking through some fandom content when one of your mutuals sent you a message.

N3rdT@amer: Girl! I just found this. You got to check it out!

There was a link attached, and it brought you to someone's post where an video teased an audio release. You weren't sure why they sent you this but decided to give it a go. You popped in your headphones as recommended and took a deep breath.

You could hear what sounded to be background noise of people chatting and jazz music. The sounds of steam and glass clinking set up the scene in a coffee shop. Foot-steps got louder then a voice spoke loud and clear.

"Hi, can I get a cold brew with a little hazelnut. Large please." a pause..."on the house? What did I do to deserve such kindness?" There was a tonal change that followed--a little flustered and shy. "Oh, you see me scrabbling with my schoolwork over there? Hehe, that's very kind of you. I want to give you something in return." A pause.

The smooth and confident attitude returned. "No, I insist. You off soon? Perfect."

The pause seemed to indicate a scene change, and you gasped when your ears were filled with the sound of lips smacking and heavy pants that you could almost feel on your skin.

"Mierda," the panting continued, "keep playing in my hair like that I'm gonna keep you up all night." a hearty chuckle followed by a loud slick sound had your thighs clenching, "would you like that, chiquita? Then how about-,"

The audio cut off there, and you wanted to chuck your phone at the wall. What the fuck? What the fuck was that! You let out an irritated breath before clicking on the profile. You choked on a cough.

You were no newbie to the realms of internet personalities or seeing people's personal interests. You had mutuals who posted fanfics and also sold sex content. There were people at your school who would be seen as uppity that enjoyed streaming RPG walkthroughs. It wasn't that surprising but...

Fucking Miguel O'Hara? Fuck.

It was an account where he teased his audio works as well as promoted others. You couldn't believe it. That gorgeous man could be a model, and he was also using his voice to make some cash? Honestly, good for him, but now you were left with a little problem that wasn't going away as you scrolled to see what other works he had. You bit your nail a little when you saw you could buy an promotional audio for $1. You groaned internally...Fuck it.

~~~

You were burning up and tried to figure out how you got in so deep.

It had been a few weeks since your...discovery, and you were screaming mentally on the inside. You didn't think a voice could get you so hot and bothered, but you found yourself going down that rabbit hole with a few late-night purchases to your totally unaware partner. It was funny in a sense because you remembered how nervous and kinda awkward Miguel sounded in your Public Speaking class. You noticed it a little when you guys met for your project when he had to speak to cashiers or other classmates he didn't really know well.

It was cute, to be honest. You could tell he was a little self-conscious about it, but it was hard for you to believe Miguel didn't know about his effect on people. Even now, he took you out to celebrate the spectacular presentation you two gave at a local coffee shop. He must have stuttered or something since he was scratching the back of his head, but the barista just beamed at him and batted her eyelashes. You couldn't blame her really.

It was just such a night-and-day situation. That man was so confident sounding in his works and in Spanish, but when there was the occasional slip-up he blushed.

Your drink was placed in front of you, and you looked up with a smile. "Gracias."

Miguel smiled softly at you. "Claro," he took a seat in front of you and stretched. "I'm glad we did well."

"Same," you took a sip of your drink, "but it's not like you weren't going to." you added nonchalantly.

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm, why you say that?"

"You know your stuff, and you can speak well." you answered easily.

Miguel brought his drink to his lips, and your eyes glanced at it. I think that's the drink he ordered in that teaser. Your eyes shot up at the thought. Stop. Stop! Don't do that. You've been doing good, self. Not when we're in front of him! "Everything okay?"

"Huh!" you perked up and then giggled awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah."

The man continued. "Well, I try my best. I just don't want to look dumb in front of people."

You kissed your teeth with a shake of the head. "You definitely don't look dumb, trust me."

Miguel looked at your curiously. "Then what do people think of me?"

You tried to stop your brain from glitching. There was no way this man didn't know how attractive he was--at least not completely. "Well uh," you grabbed your phone as a diversion, "let me show you this video! There's this girl who went to Puerto Rico and-," you tapped quickly on your phone while disconnecting your headphones, but wasn't really paying attention as you moved frantically.

"Ah coño, you feeling good, mi corazon?" A deep moan followed. "Do you like that? Let me give you some more. "

You froze. He froze. You made a short squeal as you slammed your phone down, wanting to run out immediately. You thought you closed that tab. Why didn't you close that tab? Fuck, he totally heard that!

Miguel was slow to speak. "What was that?" you blinked and made a dismissive sound. Miguel lowered his voice a little bit. "What was that, mami?"

You know your panic was displayed on your face, but you continued to play dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about...anyway, so here's that vid-,"

Miguel's chuckle cut you off. It was different than his normal one. It was deeper, meaner--the one he used professionally. "Ah, it's not good to lie, bebita." he leaned in closer so only you could hear him. "You like my voice? It turns you on?" he growled lowly.

You refused to look at him. You turned to the side and played with your straw. "Mi-Miguel, we're in public." A mumble. You felt your face warm up significantly; you changed your posture a little and unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

His low snicker went down your body. "So? I bet you were listening to that earlier. Was it while you were at the library? Supposed to be working, but you wanna hear me call you a good girl and think about how wet my fingers would sound inside you?" You bit your lip then released a shaky breath. "Mirame, chiquita," he watched you turn a little and meet his gaze. He grinned. "Que bueno" he looked you up and down and licked his lips. "Wanna hear something else?" you nodded a little. "Words," (Look at me, little girl./How nice)

"Yes, Miguel."

"Good girl."

~~~

You fidgeted nervously as you sat up straight on Miguel's bed and tried to avoid eye-contact. He was looking down at you completely smug after not saying a word to you on the way over. You were lost in your thoughts, but now, you could only hear the thumping of your heart in your chest.

"Tell me pretty girl," you nearly jumped finally hearing him, "did you get off to my voice?" you opened your mouth to speak, "Mirame."

Slowly, you did, and the sight was wicked. Miguel looked as cocky as you imagined him to. The angle of him looking down at you while you sat made the situation all the more intense and seductive. His eyes devoured you and told you that he was completely in control of the situation--enjoying it.

"I did."

He made a non-committal grunt--glancing around his room in thought. "I want to see."

Your body lit up. "What!"

Miguel chuckled. "Why not? You want me to give you instructions?"

You squeaked. "No! That's not the point...it's just embarrassing."

"Aww, but you did it all those nights at home." he leaned by your ear, "Imagining it was me making all those wet pussy sounds with my mouth. I bet you were hoping I'd find out." he watched as you squirmed from the sheer proximity and how he spoke. His voice dropped lower. "I bet you're wet now." he huffed.

"Miguel," you whined. You were asking for something, but even you weren't sure what exactly.

"What, baby?" he grinned.

You grumbled for a moment before yanking his collar towards you and smacking your lips together. You kissed him to shut him up, but maybe that wasn't a good idea either. Miguel met yours enthusiasm and groaned at the feeling of spark finally igniting. He leaned further in, and you found yourself on your back wrapping your arms around your neck.

He caged you in with his thighs before moving away to tease up and down your neck. He bit and sucked all over--memorizing what and where made you make a certain sound. "Ah there you go. You can make as much noise as you want for me." his words vibrated throughout you. You reached up and rubbed your fingers through his hair and along his scalp. He groaned. "Mmm, someone was listening." he moved up just below your ear and took a teasing nibble from your lobe. ''Which one did you like the most?"

It took you a second to realize what he was talking about, but you didn't want him to pull back. You were already this far; no point in shying about now. "The- the brat tamer one...with the neighbor."

Miguel seemed to approve your answer. "Naughty girl," his hands found your hips and slid a little under your shirt, "you need someone to put you in your place? Good thing I caught you being a slut." you whimpered at the name. "You were just gonna let this be your dirty little secret, huh? Playing with yourself after we did our homework--remembering how we chatted so innocently."

You gripped tightly on his shoulders as his hands ran further up while his teeth bit near your collar. "I should blindfold you right now. You don't need to look at me to finish."

"No! No, please. I want more. I wanna see and touch you, please." you took a leg and wrapped it by his knee--trying to bring him closer.

"Greedy and naughty. Tsk, what should I do with you?" Miguel leaned back before taking the hem of his shirt and lifting it away. Your eyes widened at the display of muscles and beautiful brown skin. You licked your lips. "Was this what you were imagining, chiquita?"

Your hand shyly reached out to touch his abs. "This is so much better." you nearly whispered. Miguel chuckled at your compliment. He backed away slowly; then you yelped as your ankle was pulled moving you to the edge of the bed.

You were bright-eyed as you saw Miguel kneel on the floor easily pulling your pants down. You moaned when he started kissing up one leg after throwing it over his shoulder. He massaged the other and wasn't shy to lick up and down--planting kisses and bites.

You gripped the sheets and started panting and wiggling. "That's alright, hermosa. I wanna hear everything from you. Haré música con este coño." He paused once he was closer and took a look at your panties. "All this just from some simple words." It was almost condescending yet admirable how he said it. "You flatter me." (I'll make music with this pussy)

You shrieked as he mouthed you through the cloth. This man was a tease. You shouldn't be surprised, but you were going to get him to cooperate as much as your foggy mind could do.

"Mmm papi chulo, give it to me good. Plesse baby," you begged, and it seemed that Miguel had a weakness for words too. He wasted no time dragging your soaked panties down and toss them behind. He grinned meanly hearing a faint plop sound on the floor. So wet.

Your hand quickly found the back of his head once his tongue made contact on your clit. You didn't think he'd go for it so quickly, but it seemed he was bent on getting you to cum hard and fast. He lapped up your cunt and made it slicker with his drool. He easily lifted you up a little to bring you closer, and you found yourself losing it when he teased by your hole.

He didn't let up--groaning when you gasped after he gave you a finger. He pumped slowly yet consistently and moved his mouth around to give everywhere all of his attention. Soon, your ears could only focus on the sounds that were coming out of your own mouth and the approval from Miguel below. He took a breather to play with your clit and was in daze hearing how it wet and slippery you sounded. You were all pants, moans, and whimpers. He smirked up at you--face shiny and wet.

"You sound so pretty, hermosa. You gonna soak my sheets by the time I'm done with you." you clenched around his fingers. "Mmm, I know baby; you want it badly." he started fingering you faster. "I wouldn't even need my dick to get this pussy squirting." your moans went up a pitch as that knot suddenly got tighter. "Ooo, hermosa. Such a slutty pussy doesn't even need a dick to make her happy. I should've made you cum with my voice, yeah? Say all those filthy things about you being a brat and how you make daddy so mad." you sobbed at that.

"You should've just been a good girl and asked daddy to fuck this pretty cunt of yours." He sped up and you were pulling at the sheets as three fingers made you clench up--going harder and making you fill fuller. "Naughty girls keep secrets. Maybe I'll stop right now."

That got you talking. "No, no, daddy please. Daddy please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a slut and didn't ask for your dick. Please I'll be so good baby. I'll be such a good girl." you babbled on.

Miguel's cock was begging to be free. You knew just what to say it seemed. "Mmm, that's what I want to hear. Come on reina, let me see you make a mess. You gonna cum on my fingers, for me?" Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you panted and struggled for air.. Wet sex sounds bounced off the walls, and you were going to be done soon. "Start cumming bebita. I'll fuck you so good after this. Yeah? Give it to me. Right there, mmhm. Fuck there you go." Miguel watched as your release started coating his fingers and dripped onto his wrist. He kept going a little til you started to twitch then slowly decreased to stop.

You were slumped on the bed trying to process what just happened while your body recovered from such an intense orgasm. "Fuck," you said to yourself. You groaned as your legs were gently rubbed, and you could barely glance down at the man.

He was all smiles and innocence despite how he met your gaze and cleaned his fingers. Gosh that mouth was going to be the death of you.

As if he reading your thoughts, he grinned before starting to move. "Let me show you what else my body can do."

~~~

Whew! Oh my gosh, I can't believe I wrote this. I'm actually happy with it. I like how Miguel's personality is and I hope my mediocre Spanish skills weren't a pain. I needed to get this idea out my head, and I'm so happy how this is. Maybe I should try writing audio scripts 🤔Thanks for reading~

(Go download Quinn y'all. You will not be disappointed)

[writing-about-current-obsessions]

A little biased

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x reader (requested)

Words: 918

>Click here to check out my masterlist<  

Charles was mesmerized as he watched her effortlessly glide on the ice. No matter how many times he saw the routine or parts of it when she was practising, it was impossible for him to get sick of it. She looked gorgeous; moving elegantly as she spun and jumped, landing with confidence each time. Being an athlete himself, he understood the effort, drive and ambition needed to succeed, but also the sacrifices you often need to make. That’s why he understood better than anyone how much being at the Olympics meant to her and how it was a dream come true after all the hard work. They both managed to reach the pinnacles of their respective sports, which meant that they both understood the pressures of what that entailed and the necessity of delivering results.

That’s why he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He was absolutely exhausted and made it here just in time to see her performance, but all the travelling, the rushing and the tiredness were worth it when he saw her.

Even though Charles knew that she was a professional and absolutely at the top of her game, he couldn’t help but feel worried when she performed. Figure skating was not exactly a safe sport, so he also understood how she felt when watching him race. With every jump, leap and spin, Charles’ heart skipped a beat until she safely landed on the ice again.

She was focused and so into it when she was in front of the audience; it amazed Charles how in control and confident she looked. If she didn’t tell him that one time how nervous she was each time before she performed, he would’ve never guessed she was impacted by stage fright. She danced across the ice with a huge smile on her face and it was impossible not to see how much she was enjoying it. Every move was executed perfectly, with practised ease and a calm expression on her face. Charles’ gaze was glued to her form throughout the whole choreography and at the end of it, he clapped and cheered along with the rest of the crowd. Her eyes were glistening from happiness as she bowed theatrically, before leisurely skating over to the side boards to exit the ice rink.

When she looked up and saw Charles standing next to her coach, her eyes widened. She hurriedly stepped out of the rink and threw herself into his arms.

“Charles?” she was still out of breath because of the exertion and the adrenaline, but the surprise was evident in her tone. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t miss seeing my girlfriend win a gold medal in the Olympics, could I?” he grinned wide, hugging her tightly before they pulled apart from each other. “Congratulations, mon amour.”

She wiped a tear off her cheek, laughing joyously. She hugged her coach next, who also congratulated her on the wonderful performance, before her attention turned to Charles again.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”, she smiled brightly at him and Charles’ heart soared.

They didn’t have time to talk to each other more than that, because she was pulled away with her coach to the area in the corner of the rink, where they waited for her score to be displayed on the screen. She pulled on a light sports jacket and huddled with her coach on a bench, eagerly waiting for the result. When it was finally displayed on the screen, with the audience again erupting into cheers and thunderous applause, she started crying at the excellent score she got from the judges. She hugged her coach, smiling so wide her face almost hurt. Then she rushed over to Charles, once again falling into his open arms.

“You’re incredible.”, he whispered into her ear, holding her tight. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Charles.”, she exhaled in contentment, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

The performance went amazingly well and she was in Charles’ arms – there wasn’t anything else she could wish for other than that.

“I’m so proud of you.”, Charles continued praising her. “You look so gorgeous. And that was the best skating I’ve seen in my life.”

She chuckled, pulling away to see his face. “You barely watch figure skating, Charles.”

“I don’t need to watch it to know that you were perfect.”, he huffed, grinning at her.

“I think you may be a little biased.”, she laughed giddily.  

He shook his head. “You’re getting that gold medal, amour. I’m sure of it.”

And somehow, he was right. His belief in her didn’t falter and his love was unconditional. She felt it all when she was standing on the highest step of the podium, receiving her medal with tears in her eyes and a wide smile. She wore it proudly around her neck, looking straight at Charles who was standing with her team, crying even more than she was at that moment. No matter how tough he was, he was a complete sweetheart at his core. Seeing him cry, being so proud and happy for her, only made more tears roll down her cheek while she had a huge smile on her face. The intensity of emotions she felt was too much; she felt like she was floating. All the pain and hard work paid off. What’s more, she got to celebrate one of the happiest moments with the person she saw herself spending the rest of her life with.

[womenathletesinmedia]

A Rough Start To Success Part 1

To talk about today's highly decorative USWNT in 2024 & the community and longevity that has been created by their triumphs, you have to go all the way back to the passing of Title IX in 1972. Before that, the idea of female athletes was a confusing subject across the globe. Soccer, or football, had been played across Europe for centuries & women had been captured playing the sport as early as 1881, and organized matches that drew thousands of fans in England during the first world war. Despite the England Football Association ban on women's soccer, The FA, stating “the game of football is quite unsuitable for females and ought not to be encouraged,” women continued to play with any resources they could throw together. The passing of Title IX in the United States came soon after England hosted the first ever Women's FA Cup in 1971.  Before the historic act, “most of the first six decades of the 20th century, women’s soccer was confined to gym class, informal pickup games and college intramural competition.” The new era of women’s sports was finally able to see opportunities for women to play at the collegiate level. The AIAW was established in the early 1970s to sponsor varsity women's sports at colleges across the country. The NCAA eventually began to also sponsor womens varsity sport in 1982, a move causing backlash on both sides of the coin. Because the NCAA had long sponsored men's college sports, the idea that more exposure to the women's game & more funding would come with the new allegiance was hopeful,  however this meant the women's teams now shared the same executive as the men, taking away the women administration who had been apart of the AIAW, replacing them with the formally established patriarchal structures of the NCAA. Nonetheless, popularity in female sports grew across the nation, and at the collegiate level coach Aaron Dorrance was starting a dynasty program of women's soccer at UNC. When reading about the legacy of Coach Dorrance, you might find him dubbed as the mastermind behind the USWNT coming to fruition. Dorrance was the head coach of UNC women's soccer program from 1974-2024, nearly its entire existence, & USWNT head coach from 1986-1994. The credit of the first coach of the USWNT goes to Mike Ryan, who was the first to select from the talent pool of female soccer players from colleges all over the country. Ryan played an important role of instilling a sense of national pride when playing international soccer for your home country. Before this first meeting, women's soccer had never been taken seriously by the public & therefore had to learn a new attitude of playing soccer on the world stage. From there they understood the importance of the role they had just been given & the legacy of that message carries on to the team today. Before the creation of a Women's World Cup, there was the The International Ladies Football Festival better known as Mundialito. This was the USWNT’s first real exposure of international soccer, and proved to point out the flaws thus far on the team with little to show of victory. The team would go back & forth winning some,& losing others, until the first World Championship in 1991. When doing research for the first and most influential players on the USWNT such as Mia Hamm, I was shocked at how many sources I found praising Coach Dorrance as the mastermind behind the team. I don’t want to diminish his accomplishments, however I expected to find much more on the individual players that got the team on the global stage. Even in such a revolutionary time for female athletes, the man appointed to be in charge at the time receives a lot of the credit. It could be argued that the team would never have become what it is today without him. If female athletes were hard to come by at the time, then I have to assume that female coaches were also sparse. Even if the team were to only have women coaches, perhaps they wouldn’t have been taken so seriously by the sports world, or it could have been even longer until the team was able to accomplish international tournament wins.

[tutyayilmazz]

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Ümit Şamiloğlu with a contender for best high bar save 3 months after his shoulder surgery 😦

[writernada]

10 Times Yuzuru Hanyu Was Inspiring

Yuzuru Hanyu (26 years old) is a Japanese figure skater. He is a two-time Olympic champion, two- time World champion, Four Continent champion, four times Grand Prix Final champion and five times national champion. He is the only male skater that has achieved a grand slam (won all major competitions in both junior and senior circus). In 2018, he won the People's Honor Award given by the Japanese Prime Minister and became the youngest recipient of this award. He also won the award of the most valuable skater at the International Skating Union Awards for the season 2019-2020. Since his debut in the senior circus in 2011-2012 and until now, Yuzuru's performances have always made a great impact on the audience; allowing him to have the biggest fan base ever in the history of figure skating. His fans are not only from Japan but from all around the world; including other skaters and coaches. The reason behind all of this love is that Yuzuru touches the hearts by performing like an artist, hitting every note, being super passionate about what he does and combining a competitive spirit with a sport soul. On top of all of that, he has an ability to inspire people. His road has never been easy. It is full of injuries, surgeries, illnesses, strong competitors, mistakes and losses. However, he always perserves, pushes through his limits, overcomes adversity and rises in an inspiring way.

Here are the ten times Yuzuru Hanyu was an icon of inspiration:

1- Winning his first medal in the World Championship in 2012 despite having an injury and low stamina.

In his debut in the World championship (senior circus) in 2012, Yuzuru (17) sprained his right ankle during the official practice the day before the short program. His foot swelled up but he decided not to withdraw, taking into account all the effort he has made for this competition and all the people who came here for him (coach, mom and officials). He went ahead and competed. He was ranked seventh in the short program, third in the free program and third overall, winning the bronze medal.

Yuzuru commented on that competition in his autobiography book "Aoi Hono ll":

"Because I was injured the day before the short, I felt that even in that kind of situation 'I landed my quad, I did well’. I felt that I had worked really hard by myself. However, my mother told me, "That is wrong.” Getting injured was my own fault, but there were many people who helped and supported me. That is the reason why I could come to this point. Until about 9 o'clock that night, we were talking about this while having dinner, and in the end, I realized that my thinking was wrong."

Yuzuru was about to get full of himself and let arrogance take over him. However, his mother helped him stay grounded. Thus, he was able to face the free program with a humble attitude. He put out a passionate performance that many people still remember until this day and consider as one of their favorites. During that performance, he tried not to put a lot of pressure on the injured foot so he shifted all the pressure on the other one until it got exhausted and gave up on him. As a result, he fell all of a sudden in the middle of the performance, but he managed to get up right away and perform a great jump right after.

In his autobiography book that was mentioned earlier, Yuzuru talked about this fall and said: "Later, when I watched the videos, I saw that the fall did not take up much time. I was standing up again quickly. But to me, it felt like a long time. When I fell, the feeling was like flying mid-air. Like this (he re-enacts the fall in slow motion), 'ahh, I am stumbling~~’ (laughs). After the fall, I was thinking 'what should I do from here’, many thoughts circled around. Thinking that I won’t make it in time for the next axel jump, I shortened the path by going straight instead of curved. I can jump even a 3A+3A (in practice), so I thought I will be alright. (laughs)”.

One of the most exciting moments during the performance is when Yuzuru shouted out aloud before the choreographic sequence. The shout seemed like a great expression of the emotions of his character (Romeo). It made him look like he was totally into character. However, he clarified that it was unintentional. He said: "I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so I thought, for now just let the breath out. (laughs)"

Yuzuru is known to be suffering from asthma and because of it he had a low stamina at the time. However, even after finding out that the shout wasn't done to express the character's emotions, viewers still find it impactful because it is a genuine expression of Yuzuru's fight against his limits.

That night, Yuzuru made a name for himself internationally. He shed tears of happiness after getting his scores and so did his coach. He also got praised by the winner that night who said: "the one shining the most is Yuzuru".

2-  Breaking a World Record and winning gold in his first participation in the winter Olympic Games.

At the age of 19, Yuzuru participated for the first time in the Olympic Games. Young male skaters like him who participate for the first time usually don't dare to dream about winning. The big scale of the competition gets athletes nervous and shaken, even the great and experienced ones of them. Therefore, the young newcomers usually consider their first participation as an experience to have under their belt while preparing for the next Olympic. However, Yuzuru was determind to win. His choreographer at the time, David Wilson, talked about his intense determination in an interview: "he wrote me an email letter that was so touching. He was like please help me do this because I'm ready. I'll do anything. I will die. I'll do anything to be the Olympic Champion. I don't want to wait until 2018. I want it now and I'll do anything. I'm willing to die for it. Anything you tell me, I'll do it but help me."

David Wilson talking about Yuzuru's determination to win the 2014 Olympics

Yuzuru performed a marvelous short program and came out of the rink saying: "I did it!" to which his coach replied: "you certainly did". He broke the world record in his first participation at the Olympics despite his young age. He did get nervous and made mistakes at the free program. However, what he did in the short program was enough to bring him the gold medal and make him achieve his childhood dream.

Yuzuru (11) saying that his dream is to win the Olympics

Yuzuru performing his short program at the 2014 Olympics:

Other Skaters reacting to Yuzuru's World Record at the Olympics:

The moment when Yuzuru finds out he won the  2014 Olympics:

3- Continuing to compete after a pretty bad collusion with another skater during Cup of China 2014:

In 2014, Yuzuru took part in Cup of China, which is one of the events of the Grand Prix Series. Yuzuru was in second place after the short program and during the 6 minuets warm up before the long program he had an accident. He collided with the Chinese skater Han Yan. They were looking at opposite sides and couldn't see each other until it was too late.

Yuzuru talked about the incident in his autobiography book and said: "My stomach hit the ice (when I fell) and so it felt like I received a body blow. My stomach was hurting so much; I could not breathe nor get up. Then, when I tried standing up, my chin was hurting and bleeding. My head was panicking and I didn’t know exactly where all the pain was coming from."

After a few minutes, Yuzuru stood up on his own despite the arrival of medical helpers. He preferred to exit the rink on his own instead of being carried. Backstage, he was examined and given first aid by American doctors.

The Collusion incident at CoC 2014:

In his biography book, Yuzuru gave some details about what happened backstage after the incident:

"I really gave a lot of trouble to the people around me. They told me ‘Don’t compete’. The doctors also said, 'It is not a concussion, so it is possible to skate but we do not recommend it.’Coach Orser also said, 'Now you don’t need to be a hero. You still have more after this, you still can do a lot as a skater.’But 'it has nothing to do with that. I will skate because I want to go to GP Final.’ I think I might have said that to him in Japanese. I wanted to go to the Final somehow. Here, 5th or 4th place is good enough, I can get 1st place in the next competition, so for now I just want to remain connected. If I compete at GPF, I definitely want to have a second consecutive victory. I also want to win the triple crown again (Worlds, GPF, Nationals). I had those kind of thoughts. Now when I look back I think, 'ah I skated well’."

Yuzuru decided to skate his free program and the people around him respected his decision and allowed him to go. He made sure to meet Han Yan before competing again and they exchanged apologies. After that, Yuzuru showed up in the rink with a bandage on his head and a small band on his chin. He skated his free program bravely after making some changes on the layout to adjust to his condition. He fell on five jumps but did full rotations and got grades for that. He also was able to land some jumps in the latter half of the program, which got him extra points. After the performance, his coach Orser was worried about his feelings if he gets a bad score for falling five times so he was preparing him mentally by saying stuff like: "scores don't matter. What matter is what you did out there" but it turned out Orser had nothing to worry about as Yuzuru received a high score. Yuzuru was so surprised and relieved when he saw his score and he burst into tears after holding on for a long time. He won the silver medal in that event.

Yuzuru performing his free program and receiving his score at CoC 2014:

After the competition, American doctors prepared the massage room to do stitches for Yuzuru. He received 7 stitches on his chin with anesthetics and 3 staples on his head without any anesthetics, which was really painful to him! The next day, he traveled to Japan for a medical examination in a trip that he described as hell. The result of the examination was "head contusion (or bruise), chin contusion, abdominal contusion, left thigh contusion and right ankle sprain’.

For ten days, Yuzuru was unable to walk and the recovery took more time than expected. Every time he finds himself able to walk, he would go to the rink, but once he steps his foot into the rink the pain comes back. He thought that he would never be able to skate again, felt so depressed and wanted to quit skating all together. However, his mother told him "how about just giving it a try anyway? If you skate just a little on the ice every day with the intention of rehabilitation, the situation may change for the better" her response surprised him because she never tried to stop him from quitting in the past whenever he said he wanted to quit. With that new attitude of his mother, Yuzuru became optimistic about being able to skate again, and found the willpower to try and even aim to win at the next competition of the Grand Prix Series, which was NHK.

At NHK, Unfortunately, Yuzuru wasn't able to present great performances and once he finished his free program he thought to himself: "ah, the final is gone!" he thought that all his efforts in Cup of China were for nothing, but luckily, the total of his points combined from the two competitions made him the last qualified skater for the final. Thus, he was able to take part in the final, presented great performnces and won the gold medal after all the struggles he went through.

4- Winning at Nationals 2014 despite bleeding and needing a surgery:

After the short program at the Grand Prix Final, Yuzuru felt some kind of pain in his stomach whenever he stretched or pressed on it. He thought that it must be a damage in the muscle tissue but after the free program, he found something that looks like a Ping Pong ball sticking out beneath his navel. It was so painful to the extent that he couldn't sleep on his flight back to Japan. When he landed, he went to the hospital right away and was told that he might have Urachal Remnant Disorder. He was given some antibiotic and sent home because his condition wasn't bad. However, once he returned home, and got into the shower, his navel burst and started bleeding. He went back to the hospital and it was confirmed that he has Urachal Remnant. He needed to undergo a surgery but he couldn't afford to have it any time soon because the Japanese national competition (All Japan) was a few weeks away. He was determined to attend it so he decided to bear with the pain and delay the surgery. Without telling anybody about his problem, he attended his trainings after wrapping himself with gauze to prevent blood from staining his clothes. That didn't work out well and blood still got to his clothes so when it was time for the competition, he was worried that his costume might get stained. To prevent that from happening, he put a strong tape on top of the gauze, which was painful, but did the job. In this condition, Yuzuru took part in the Japanese national competition, and despite a few mistakes in both of his programs, his endurance of pain didn't go in vain, and he actually won.

Yuzuru commented about this situation in his book by saying: "It was painful to bend forward and backward, but I tried to do whatever I could in that situation. I even did the Ina bauer, but I could not arch back at all. In fact, I also intended to do the biellmann spin! However, when I started the spin, I changed it into an A-line"

Yuzuru performing his free program and putting his hand on his stomach while leaving the ice during All Japan 2014:

5-  Rising from fifth place to first in the World Championships 2017:

At the World Championship in 2017, Yuzuru made some mistakes in the short program that left him sitting in fifth place behind his rivals. The gap between him and the first place was around 11 points. He was so disappointed in himself but didn't give up. He wanted to go practice harder. However, his coaches stopped him from overworking himself and made sure that he takes a good rest and goes through a normal practice. After that, he collected himself, focused, stayed calm and presented one of the greatest performances ever. It was flawless and magnificent. His coach Brian Orser said that he felt privileged to have witnessed this performance. Yuzuru got a very high score that made him scream and left him on the verge of shedding happy tears. His coach Brian Orser was speechless while his other coach Tracy Wilson had her mouth wide open in astonishment. With that, Yuzuru was able to rise from fifth place to first and win the championship.

Yuzuru performing his free program and receiving his score at the WC 2017:

6- Winning the second Olympic title right after being away from the ice for 3 months due to a severe injury:

Before the beginning of the Olympic season, Yuzuru was done with his preparation very early and was all ready to compete. His coach Brian Orser couldn't believe how smoothly things were going and felt a little uneasy about the fact that Yuzuru was ready very early. His worry wasn't pointless because soon enough Yuzuru sustained a severe injury. It happened during the official practice before NHK. Yuzuru was practicing (4Lutz) which was a new jump he has been practicing that season. He landed the jump in a wrong way causing ligament damage to his right ankle. The injury forced him out of competition for the rest of the season.

Yuzuru's fall and injury at NHK 2017:

Yuzuru disappeared and was away from the ice for three months. During that time, he didn't make any T.V appearances or interviews. Thus, nobody knew anything about him and his condition. His participation in the Olympics and the mere ability to perform again became uncertain. A lot of people doubted he would be able to comeback. However, he showed up at Incheon Airport in South Korea surrounded by guards and declared that he was ready to compete and that he believes he has the potential to win more than any other skater. After that, he avoided talking to the press until the end of the competition.

Yuzuru's arrival at Incheon Airport to participate at the 2018 Olympics:

According to his coach, Brian Orser, Yuzuru returned to the ice only six weeks before the Olympics and had to relearn everything and take baby steps to be able to perform again. He was practicing strokes, single and double jumps while watching his training mate and rival, Javier Fernandez, do a full run through of his programs with triples and quads. Yuzuru was able to land triples only three weeks before the Olympics and started landing quads just two weeks before the Olympics.

During the official open practice before the competition, Yuzuru made sure not to reveal his abilities and current condition nor his planned layout. He simply did some strokes and single jumps then left the rink. He chose his layout after studying his rivals and calculating how many points he would potentially need to win. He did his calculations on an app that he developed as part of his studies at the university.

In the short program segment, Yuzuru put out a great performance that was so close to the world record (which he holds). He won first place at this segment. Seeing the results, he felt relieved and assured so he allowed himself to reduce the difficulty of his free program. He was one-step away from winning the Olympics again. He needed to put out another great performance during the free program, and fortunately, that's exactly what he did. He performed a memorable free program filled with emotions, and once he finished, he screamed: "I won. I won!" which was true! He became the first skater to win the Olympics consecutively in 66 years.

Yuzuru's free program at the 2018 Olympics:

The moment that Yuzuru is announced as the winner of the 2018 Olympics:

7- Receiving the gold medal on crutches during Rostelecom Cup 2018:

After winning the Olympics, Yuzuru decided to pay tribute to his role models in figure skating; the Russian legend Evgeny Plushenko and the American Johnny Weir. He chose one of Plushenko's programs as his free program and one of Weir's as his short. He adapted the programs to his own style but still kept some touches from the original ones. Since it was a tribute, he decided to perform his free program in the hometown of his Russian idol and in front of his people. That is why he chose to participate in Rostelecom Cup, which is one of the events of the Grand Prix Series, and is held in Russia. He performed a great short program and everything was going well until he injured his right foot again during the practice before the free program. He was advised to withdraw. However, he absolutely wanted to perform his tribute to the Russian legend, Plushenko, in Russia. He has prepared a lot for this performance and came all the way to Russia to do it so he didn't want all of that to be pointless. He decided to take strong painkillers and perform his free program. He lowered the difficulty of the program and then presented a great performance in front of the Russian crowd that brought him the gold medal. After the performance, he started moving on crutches and admitted that without the painkillers, he wouldn't have been able to skate. He received the gold medal that night on crutches with fans cheering for him and holding up signs that says: "Yuzu we love you from all over the world".

Yuzuru receiving the gold medal on crutches at Rostelecom 2018:

8- Conquering his fears during the season of 2019-2020:

Yuzuru has suffered from a lot of injuries throughout his career. More than once, he thought that he is facing the end of his career because of an injury. Therefore, his main goal during the season of 2019-2020 was to finish the season without injuries. He finished his first two competitions safely and arrived at Japan to participate in NHK, which was his second Grand Prix assignment. Many of his injuries happened in his second GP event and he was conscious about this fact. He was afraid of getting hurt again and was visibly shaking before the beginning of his free program. As a result of his nervousness he missed a combination. However, he pulled himself together and improvised a new combination to recover the points he missed. He thought of the new combination, calculated its points and made sure that it's not repeated all while performing amazingly. Once he came out of the rink, his coach Ghislain gave him a hug and said: "You know what? You conquered your fear!".

Yuzuru shaking before performing his free program at NHK 2019 + full performance:

Yuzuru continued to overcome his fears in the final of the Grand Prix. He was setting in second place after the short program and the gap of points between him and his rival was big. He felt that winning may not be possible this time; nonetheless, he still wanted to do his best and give a respectable performance. He decided to raise the number of quad jumps in his program to five for the first time ever in his career. In addition, he declared that he will bring back the quad Lutz, which is the jump that caused his injury before the 2018 Olympics. It's a jump that he never dared to perform again in competitions since that incident. However, he overcame his fear and performed a flawless quad Lutz during the free program with four other quad jumps in the GPF, challenging not only his fear, but also his stamina that has always been an obstacle for him. He did not win the gold medal, but won his own fight against his fears and limits as well as the hearts and respect of the audience.

Yuzuru performing quad Lutz+ full performance of the free program at GPF2019:

9- Winning the bronze medal in the World Championship 2021 despite an asthma attack and many other hurdles.

During the 2020-2021 season, the whole world was going through struggles because of Corona Virus and Yuzuru was no exception. He had to train on his own in Japan all year long away from his coaches and physical therapist in Canada. He prepared new programs for the season with his choreographers by receiving videos and training accordingly without any supervision. During the season, his hometown was struck by an earthquake twice. The last struck happened right before he traveled to Stockholm to participate in the WC. According to him, the inside of his home was a mess and he couldn't use the train to go to Tokyo and board the plane as planned. As a result, he arrived to Stockholm one day later than planned, thus, he had to change his training plans as well. However, his coach Brian Oreser said that Yuzuru is not the type of athlete who gets phased by such problems and he was right. Yuzuru did perfect run through of his programs during his official practices. He also performed his lively short program very well and won the small gold medal of the segment.

Yuzuru performing his short program at WC 2021:

Yuzuru was all set to win the World Championship for the third time, but something unexpected happened before the free program. He was supposed to start warming up one hour prior the turn of his group (the last group), but he was nowhere to be seen at the venue until it was almost time for the last group to compete. His coach Brian Orser said that he was worried and didn't know where Yuzuru was. He asked the head of the Japanese team but they simply told him: "He is somewhere else". Brian kept on going back and forth between the rink where two of his students were competing and the warm up area where Yuzuru was supposed to be, but Yuzuru did not show up. After Brian's students finished their turn, it was almost time for Yuzuru's group so Brian went to the locker room to see if Yuzuru was there. Usually, Yuzuru would put his skating boots in the locker room before the six-minuets warm up of his group and Brian would come to carry his tissue box, and then they would head to the rink together. However, Brian didn't find Yuzuru in the locker room. Yuzuru was caught on camera sitting on a chair at the warm up area, resting his head on the wall and looking exhausted while taking off his mask impatiently. At that time, the announcement of Keegan Messing's score from the group before the last one, could be heard in the background.

Yuzuru at the warm up area before skating his free program at the WC 2021:

When Brian finally found Yuzuru at the warm up area, he said that he knew something must have happened to him but he didn't ask him about it. Instead, he tried to encourage him by saying energetically: "Let's go!"

Yuzuru showed up at the rink without styling his hair unlike the norm. He made a lot of mistakes in the first part of his free program as if he was not the same person who did a perfect run through one day ago. He said that he suddenly couldn't find his balance but he did try his best. He explained that with every mistake, he tried to at least not fall. Later on, the Russian media reported that the Russian doctor who was accompanying their team at the competition said that Yuzuru has had an asthma attack right before coming to the venue and has asked for his help. Yuzuru never talked to the media about what happened before the free program and why he was late. When he was asked about his asthma he only admitted to feeling a little asthmatic after the free program. Despite all of that, Yuzuru managed to win the bronze medal and contribute in securing three spots to team Japan at the Olympics.

The mystery of what happened to Yuzuru before the free program would have stayed unsolved if it wasn't for the Russian doctor. The reason is that Yuzuru doesn't like to make excuses for himself. He once said in an old interview that he used to make a lot of excuses for himself when he was young but then he realized that real strong skaters don't do that and that he wouldn't learn anything if he keeps on making excuses. He took the renowned Japanese skater Mao Asada as an example when she competed with a bone fracture without uttering a word about it. That must be the reason why he never takes his asthma as an excuse or talks about it.

10- Achieving his childhood dreams one by one:

Since ever Yuzuru was young he declared that he wants to be the Olympic champion and he wants to land a quad Axel. He went on to achieve his Olympic dream in 2014; making history by being the first Japanese male skater to win an Olympic gold medal ever. However, he said that it’s not over yet because the plan in his head is to win the Olympics twice. He kept on improving himself and walking towards his dream while making a lot of sacrifices and overcoming injuries. At the end, he achieved his dream and made history once again by being the first skater in 66 years to win the gold medal at the Olympics consecutively. He then made a statement saying that he feels happy and that this happiness is what he gets in return to the sacrifices he made. After that, he said that he feels freed from the pressure of having to produce results. Thus, he announced that he is going to skate for himself from then on. It was time for him to start focusing on the other dream of his childhood which was the quad Axel. He made it clear that landing it in a competition is his next goal and didn’t allow himself to get swayed by what others are doing or what competitions he is losing. He stayed focused on his goal and is reported to be getting closer to achieving it.  

Yuzuru's path has never been covered with flowers. It was hard and painful most of the time but yuzuru always turns the pain into success and fulfillment with his perseverance, becoming an icon of inspiration to many people. We wish him a lot of happiness and success in the future.

Translation of Yuzuru's book is from:

https://bit.ly/3vSGgBz

[rocorambles]

Training Camp ft. Ikkei: Part 1 - Know Your Place

Pairing: Yandere Nekomata x Kuroo ft. Ikkei

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Sex Toys, Chastity Cage, Exhibitionism, Voyerism, Humiliation, Degradation, Objectification, Cock Warming, Sweat Kink, Overstimulation, Gangbang

Summary: Nekomata has special plans for Kuroo’s first New Year’s trip. 

Previous | Next 

A/N: Of course I need to dedicate this to @sawamooora #1 Ikkei stan. 

Kuroo impatiently waits, brimming with excitement as he searches for the familiar sight of Nekomata’s car approaching, suitcase packed and ready to go besides him. It’s been months since their little relationship began and the pink cage around his cock and the plug nestled in his ass feel like second skin, bringing a sense of comfort to the younger man as he’s reminded of just who belongs to with every shift he feels against his sensitive cock and insides. 

He’s always hated New Year’s, dreaded being forced to spend more time than he wanted to at home, in an empty house devoid of any real familial love other than a fond smile here or there from his grandparents. He doesn’t want to be ungrateful and he loves his grandparents, he really does, but the loneliness is tormenting, the emptiness and silence clawing and digging its way under his skin as the clock ticks down to midnight every year, with only him there to greet the new year, his grandparents already long fast asleep and his father nowhere to be found. 

But this year...this year’s going to be different and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when a car honks at him from the street, practically skipping and almost tripping over his long legs as he shoves his suitcase into the trunk of his coach’s car and hops in the passenger seat. 

Kuroo’s always been envious hearing his friends tell him about the fun celebrations their family did over the holiday, something green and ugly churning in his guts whenever someone rambled on and on about the amazing family trip they went on during the time off. But over time, as he got older, he had grudgingly come to terms that it’s just never something he’d ever experience, settling for the quiet dragging days he spent idling away in his bedroom instead. 

So when Nekomata had asked him if he wanted to go away to the countryside with him over the New Years holiday during one of their post-coital cuddle session, he could hardly believe his ears, almost smacking the old man in the face with how quickly he turned to stare at him with wide hazel eyes before grinning and enthusiastically nodding his head. His body suddenly regained all of its energy despite how many orgasms had been coaxed out of him and he noisily pestered the older man with all types of questions about what they’d be doing and exactly where they were going, only shutting up with a gasp when a wrinkled hand reached down to circle his cum-filled hole, amused eyes staring at him as a finger slipped inside the loosened entrance. 

“Well if you’ve recovered enough to make so much noise, let’s put that newfound energy and loud mouth to use.” 

Needless to say, Kuroo didn’t get any answers that night. 

And even now as they begin their long road trip, he still has no clue or hint of what’s in store for him. 

Nekomata fondly smiles as Kuroo inquisitively looks around, pretty eyes sparkling with excitement and awe as he scurries around like a kitten exploring new territory, examining every inch of Ukai Ikkei’s peaceful training camp nestled among the woods of Miyagi. It’s a beautiful location, so different from the bustling city of Tokyo, hidden from prying eyes, only snow and barren trees visible for miles and miles. Perfect for what he has planned for his adorable pet and he laughs when Kuroo lays beside him that first night, pouting and whining about Nekomata not telling him that there were indoor volleyball courts here so he could pack accordingly. 

He had wondered when Kuroo would bring it up and despite creaking bones, he eagerly makes his way to his own suitcase, pulling out a package he had purposefully kept hidden for this very moment, gleefully watching as the taller man curiously opened the bag. Not many things catch Kuroo off guard, so Nekomata watches in pride as the athlete’s jaw drops, almost reaching the ground as he realizes exactly what he’s staring down at. 

The Nekoma captain knows it’s going to be a long weekend when he sees the vibrating butt plug innocently laying on top of a bundle of fabric, throat dry as he sets the toy aside and examines the soft bundle still inside, cock twitching in interest in its prison, a little whine stuck in his chest. 

“Shouldn’t you thank me? Now you’ll be able to play all the volleyball you want this weekend. I even have some old friends visiting tomorrow who can join us.” 

“It’s- That’s way too small! You want me to wear just this in front of other people?” 

Hazel eyes pleadingly stare at the older man, but it’s no use and Kuroo pouts as Nekomata sternly stands his ground, reluctantly nodding his head and cuddling into his cushy chest when the coach uses his weakness against him, softly murmuring little praises about how good he’ll look, how he just wants to show off his handsome boy to everyone. 

Doesn’t Kuroo want to make him happy? 

He does! He does! 

And despite how embarrassing it is, lean toned torso on display, cute nipples pebbled in arousal as Nekomata teasingly sucks the two peaks to attention, tiny bulge and ass cheeks practically hanging out of the skimpy black spandex shorts (really just glorified panties), Kuroo can’t help the pleased flush he feels spreading inside of him at how proud and hungrily Nekomata looks at him, whispering how gorgeous he is as he playfully prods and pushes the vibrating plug inside of Kuroo’s tight hole. 

But it’s time to play a different game and Nekomata pulls the dazed boy after him, pretending nothing’s unusual about how he introduces the almost naked youngster to the rest of the senior citizens gathered on the indoor court, ignoring the leering looks they give the flustered athlete, biting back a smile at how veiny wrinkled hands roam and linger inappropriately across Kuroo’s body as they introduce themselves and greet the frazzled man. 

He’s proud of how well Kuroo takes all the attention and the wandering touches, something akin to jealousy curling inside of him at how the messy haired man unconsciously leans into fingers that run along his nipples and sticks his ass out just a bit more when someone presses up behind him. Maybe he had trained his toy too well, but there’s no time to linger on it, not when everyone’s lining up on either side of the net and getting in game position. 

Adrenaline pumps through Kuroo and he feels at home, almost forgetting the embarrassing outfit he has on as he gets ready to play like he always does, thinking to himself if maybe he should take it down a few notches, not wanting to hurt any of the frailer men around him. He sees a spiker jump in front of him and he leaps in the air, toned arms reaching up, ready to block the ball, but he yelps, mind going white as the vibrator inside of him is suddenly turned on, pressing relentlessly against his prostate and he falls on the ground in surprise. 

Old faces crowd around him, rough hands helping him up, voices asking him if he’s okay, but it’s all background noise as he stares wide-eyed at Nekomata, heart racing at the smirk he receives in response, the flash of a remote peeking from his coach’s shorts solidifying his worst fears. But there’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say without letting everyone else around him know exactly what’s happening, that he’s traipsing around in public with a toy shoved inside of his ass like a slut. So he stays silent, plastering on a forced smile on his face as he reassures everyone he’s fine, unaware of the shared smirks behind his back, all of them in on Nekomata’s naughty little secret. 

It only gets worse after that, the vibrations becoming unpredictable in timing and intensity, sometimes hitting him at the peak of his jumps, sometimes starting up in between plays, sometimes not moving at all, only making it so much worse when it does begin again after a longer pause than normal. His anticipation and anxiety only makes things worse and he knows he’s a mess, sluggish, sweating far too much for a simple game with old men, sloppy. But he grits his teeth, determined to make it through at least the first set before making up some excuse to leave and relieve himself. 

Unfortunately Nekomata and company have different plans for him and when he once again jumps to block another spike, he can’t hold back the scream as the vibrations hit him full blast, not stopping even when he collapses on the ground, writhing and grabbing his ass, begging Nekomata to turn it off, uncaring of how everyone is watching the lewd spectacle he’s making of himself. 

But it’s not Nekomata who hauls him up and he sobs as Ikkei snarls at him to stop whining, sneering at him for being a fucking whore who can’t live without a toy inside of him. 

“How dare you waste all of our time by pulling shit like this? We’re here to play volleyball, not babysit a horny slut. So go make yourself useful, get off the fucking court, and be our little bench cock warmer since you clearly need something to always fill that slutty hole of yours.” 

Kuroo can hardly register what’s happening, incoherently blabbering and drooling as the intense vibrations still relentlessly assault him, mindlessly following as Ikkei continues to drag him over to the metal bench, moaning as his pre-cum soaked shorts are pulled off of him. He petulantly whines when the plug is pulled out of him, immediately changing his tune and apologizing when Ikkei’s hands swat at his ass, rough palms humiliatingly spreading his ass cheeks apart, leaving his gaping fluttering hole on full view for everyone. 

But when he’s positioned over Nekomata’s sitting form, trembling thighs bending as he’s shoved down on the cock he’s grown so familiar with, it feels like everything’s right in the world and a dopey smile spreads across his face when he bottoms out, the familiar weight and heat inside of him soothing his highstrung body. And suddenly he can care less about how the rest of the men are crowding around Nekomata and him on the excuse of being on a “water break”, greedy eyes taking in how Kuroo’s long legs splay wide open, pretty pink chastity cage out in the open, tight hole stuffed full of old man cock. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, body drunk on pleasure, jolted back to attention here and there by fingers that teasingly tweak and brush his nipples, a wrinkled hand easily fondling his cute little caged cock in one hand, a raspy voice mockingly tsking him for dripping so much sticky pre-cum everywhere. 

The first set finishes and then there’s bickering as the other old men complain about how it’s unfair that only Nekomata gets a cock warmer when he sits out, demanding that Kuroo be passed around as a communal object. Nekomata is hesitant, surprisingly fierce possessiveness keeping him from readily agreeing. But when Ikkei urges him on, encouragingly asking his long-time friend things like “don’t you ever want to just sit back and watch?”, “don’t you want to see what your little pet looks like being split on multiple cocks?”, he can’t help the voyeuristic curiosity inside of him that ultimately has him acquiescing.

Kuroo doesn’t know how many times he’s passed around, doesn’t care, mind only able to think of being full, uncaring of how or by who. 

Sometimes he’s made to face the game, fingers prodding his face, palms gently slapping his cheeks until he’s paying attention, forced to keep track of points, punished by vicious pulling and twisting of his aching nipples and smacks to his pathetically imprisoned cock when he says the wrong numbers or forgets to say anything at all after a point is scored. 

Sometimes he’s made to face the player whose cock is splitting him apart, coaxed into sloppily making out with chapped lips, the scent of elderly bodies filling his nostrils, the wet sound of tongues and mouths tangling together echoing in his ears, bony hands digging into his bare ass. 

He thinks he may have passed out once or twice, maybe even a few times, only to wake up moaning, tears in his eyes as arousal and denial mix and meld in a painfully intoxicating cocktail inside of him. All he needs, all he wants is to bounce on the cocks shoved inside of him to his heart’s content, desperate even for the lackluster untouched prostate orgasms he’s limited to with his chastity cage still firmly locked. But anytime he tries to even shift his hips, every time he even breathes louder than normal, he’s scolded and vulnerable inner thighs are meanly pinched until he stays still like a good toy. 

It’s all a frustratingly dizzying experience, time and space blurring in Kuroo’s mind, brain turning off as he allows himself to just submerge in the feeling of being passed around and used, allowing himself to just let go and be the mindless sex toy they want him to be. But he’s snapped back to reality by a sudden inability to breathe and piercing coldness across his entire torso, muffled squealing filling the air as he’s laid face down on the cold metal bench, Ikkei’s cock breaching his mouth further and further, Nekomata sinking balls deep inside of his loose ass, both men surrounding him, their legs spread on either side of the bench, caging him in between them. 

As his mouth is stretched painfully wide, nose brushing against Ikkei’s lower stomach, gray scratchy hairs tickling his face, ass full, Nekomata’s hands playfully kneading and groping his toned buttcheeks, any humane part left in his sex-crazed mind shatters. All he knows is serving and pleasure and he happily moans as his bare flat back is used as a table for sweaty towels, soaked fabric carelessly tossed on top of him. An especially drenched towel is thrown over his head and he deeply inhales, the salty heavy smell of sweat intermingling with the musk of Ikkei’s groin only dragging him further down a path he’ll never be able to recover from.

He could live happily just like that for the rest of his life, filled on both ends, white cotton fabric acting as a blindfold, encasing him in the pungent scent of his tormentors, reminding him just how far he’s fallen. But his owners have different plans, ignoring his little complaining mewls from being left empty and unfulfilled as Ikkei and Nekomata pull out of him. The towel still around his face prevents him from seeing anything, but a delighted smile slips on his face at the feeling of something prodding at his entrance, a content sigh escaping him when the familiar vibrating plug is pushed back into him, eyes closing and focusing on the soothing feeling of being filled once again. 

But that comfort is short lived and he screams, a panicked overwhelmed keen that makes the men around him laugh as the vibrator is suddenly turned onto its highest setting, the borderline unbearable intensity against his relentlessly stimulated prostate driving him crazy, body writhing and convulsing in agonized bliss, fat tears and drool making a mess of his face. Yet that doesn’t stop his audience from meticulously pulling back up his ridiculously tiny booty shorts, pulling the material snugly high up on Kuroo’s hips, locking the plug even more firmly in place, slapping the captain’s perky ass for good measure and prodding at the toy inside of him through the stretchy fabric as he continues shaking and trembling, eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out. 

The towels that had been strewn about his body and head all lie rumpled and discarded on the ground, thrown off by the younger man’s chaotic movements, and the group of men watch in awe and lust, veiny wrinkled hands pumping their useless old cocks at how broken their little toy looks. He barely looks human. He definitely doesn’t sound human. And it only makes the desire in their aged bodies grow that much more, pride and power swelling inside of them at how much control they still have, despite their numbered days, over a bright and powerful young thing like Kuroo Tetsurou. 

Gangbangs? They’re a young men’s game. But as they stare at the now cum covered man still sobbing and wailing as the vibrator inside of him continues its relentless assault, slobbering all over their cocks and fingers as they make sure not to let a drop of their sticky liquid go to waste. They can’t help but give themselves a pat on the back for their successful attempt, yawning and slowly walking away on aching legs and hips, bones creaking and cocks exhausted from being used so thoroughly after almost decades of no action.  

Kuroo makes to get up, confusion in dazed hazel eyes as he tries to follow the pack, whimpering as every move he makes only makes the vibrations inside of him hit different angles. But he’s gently shoved back down by two pairs of hands and he bewilderedly pants, turning his attention towards Nekomata and Ikkei, gasping when they each toy with one perky nipple as they amusedly observe him. 

“And where do you think you’re going, Tetsurou? There’s water bottles, towels, and all this equipment that still needs to be packed up and stored away. I’m not turning off your little toy until everything is cleaned up, understand? So better get to it.”

Tears stream down his face at the stern words, dismayed eyes taking in just how much of a mess there’s left for him to clean, realization that his torment has hardly begun sinking in. But he shakily nods and two pairs of eyes watch in sick fascination as their little slut begins to move around, breathy gasps and lewd moans interspersed with his actions, stumbling and panting like a cat in heat. 

It’s going to be a great training camp.  

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (14/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” And Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: Feedback is very much appreciated!

Link: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Levi liked to believe he had the mental fortitude most—if not all of the challenges that stand in his way

Back when he was still jumping, competition after competition, that had been one of the more notable terms he had remembered hearing, constantly showered with praises.

Mental fortitude was important for every athlete. It was the reason behind perfect textbook motions during crunch time and breathtaking performances despite heckles from the crowd. It was the key to consistency or so he was told.

He only had his numbers and his stats to speak for him though. And he never contemplated for long enough on his own psyche, instead relying on the training and the performances to continue to speak for his strengths. So when the term ‘mental fortitude’ popped up in conversations with his coach, he didn’t think too much of it.

On the field, he was calm, he was collected and he was consistently focused on one goal: getting over the high bar in front of him.

Where did mental fortitude fall in that process? He would ask himself. Busy with the process of actually performing though, he never bothered to answer.

Five months after his last tournament, alone in his dormitory room with an ice pack propped on his injured knee, Levi was thinking back to that. And the long silent reflection had him stumbling upon one pathetic conclusion.

He never had the mental fortitude he was well praised to have possessed. The dreamcatcher he clutched tightly on his right hand, the phone he had placed on ‘do not disturb’ mode were testaments to that. Looking back at the tournaments, making sense of those emotions which were strongly linked to those experiences, he started to understand, the need to succeed at every tournament never felt too important to leave him pressured, shaken or entrenched in some do or die situation.

So it wasn’t mental fortitude that had pushed him forward. It had been something else carrying him through the bar, even in the most stressful situations. And soon enough, late night alone in his room picking at too many sensations and memories at once, he started to pick out that emotion, or so, the lack of it as he ran towards the bar and sailed through it.

He had this weird ability to easily disconnect from the audience. He could disconnect from his surroundings and from the factors that placed him in such circumstances where he had to perform.

And when he was disconnected from reality. He had no need for mental fortitude. Because if he could pretend the pain and pressures never existed and he could always pretend that running and jumping over the bar was just a slightly more difficult stroll in the park.

That ability had worked for him since so long before he could remember. It was a familiar companion and on the way home from the long hike he had scrambled for that go-to coping mechanism, willing it to do what it always did, pull him away from reality when reality started to seem too much more like an enemy than a companion.

For the first time though, it didn’t respond to pushes and prods. When he willed that habit to do its work, It didn’t. In fact, it had done worse than ‘not work.’ It pushed and prodded in return and as if taking advantage of its intimacy with Levi and the trust between them. It poked, maybe even stabbed where it knew it hurt.

Maybe that was the reason Levi was left frozen, shaken. Although he had tried to focus on the numbness that lay underneath it, he couldn’t. Because the root cause that consumed him wasn’t something he could have easily brushed away.

It was merciful enough to have allowed him a few hours of sleep that night though.

Or maybe it was his superstitious move borne of desperation that had him able to manage a few hours of sleep. He had been desperate enough to slip the dreamcatcher under his pillow, willing the dreams not to come. God knows those dreams could only confirm his suspicions on events his own emotions had only hinted at.

It was only back when he had fallen asleep though that it had seemed merciful. As soon as he awoke, it reminded Levi that it was cruel and vengeful. It was a weight much heavier than Levi had ever felt and it brought with it an ache that stung, crushed and grated all at the same time.

Muscle memory was what got him sitting up, placing his legs on the floor, his good one first, then his injured one, making sure the latter was well supported by the brace.

Routine was what had him checking his phone and the calendar that had him remembering he had a physical therapy session that day.

Soon after that, Hange barged into the room and reminded him that he had spent the long hours since they got home from their trip, isolated and unmoving in the room. And she pulled him up and mentioning what Levi had already figured out: it was a much busier weekend than he had expected it to be.

Right… Physical Therapy.

Her voice sounded distant, sometimes inaudible. She guided him through routine motions. She mentioned something about Erwin, then something about Armin and Mikasa. And in Levi’s little trance, it was as if she was speaking another language, and only those familiar names stood out in that one sided conversation.

When he willed himself to make sense of the syllables and to take control of his hands and his arms, it started to tick. When he pulled his thermal underwear over his body, then his sweater, he started to make it out as something a little clearer: a ticking time bomb inside him.

Sometimes, the ticking was strong and loud enough to aggravate something else inside him And Levi noticed it flared when Hange brushed next to him, when she would caress him, when she spoke, whether it be in whispers, in playful banter and sometimes with a tone too excitable that made Levi jump.

He soon realized though the effects were all the same. The bomb flared regardless of the volume of her voice or the firmness of her touch. Her presence was all that was needed for the time bomb to continue to tick and flare, tick and flare.

He couldn’t find a way to brush it away through, to disconnect like he had done many times before. He found himself instead getting amicable with that bomb inside him. Since that was the only thing he could do to get through the day.

Hange was a double edged sword, a necessary evil. She had done her part to keep him rooted in reality and to make the plight of getting through the day a little more bearable and very much possible. At the same time though, Levi was certain she was inadvertently aggravating the pain inside him.

It was just too much of a coincidence that looking straight into her eyes, letting her prattle on about plans as they got ready and made their way out of the dorm, left him nursing dull phantom aches. And when she had left him in the waiting room, mentioning something about meeting Erwin, Levi found himself relieved more than anything.

The reprieve though was short-lived.

“Hey Levi! It’s been a while. Looks like you’re off the crutches now?”

The ache came back, a different kind of ache yet at the same time an ache all too familiar that Levi was sure the crushing weight was similar, the same recurring visitor. As if that recurring visitor had stepped out of the room with Hange, yet stepped back in as soon as he saw her off.

“You okay?” The brunet asked.

Levi could only make eye contact for a split second longer before images of the dismembered body of the brunet flashed before him. Levi quickly looked back down at the blank slate on the white tiled floor. “I’m fine.” Levi managed to say. It could have come out as a cough or as a rasp. He didn’t have enough grip of his surroundings to tell.

“You okay? You’re looking a little pale. You sure you’re in the right ward?” There was good humor in that tone but even if the joke had been worth a laugh, Levi wouldn’t have let out a smile.

Someone propped their hands on his lap. Levi didn’t have to look up to tell who it was. He saw images of her decapitated head too vividly, he could have sworn it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. “Levi, I just finished my last session for this year. So I guess we’ll be seeing you around January or February already?”

Did they make conversation after that? The rest had been a blur. But somewhere along the way, they had ended with pleasantries.

“Happy holidays!”

“Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.” Greetings were routine and mechanical so those were easy enough to say.

He achieved the bare minimum at least to have the two leave him alone. And alone in the silence, he let out a breath that came out rough and raspier than he would have liked.

Why does it feel so heavy? They’re alive. He reminded himself then. But he only had to look back at his own writing to recall everything. Farlan and Isabel, his companions in the underground city died a long time ago, long before he had even met Hange.

But why was he mourning a death he had only ever written about? And why did it only hurt then? Months after he had last written about them?

The answer never came. Any semblance of one though had come a few minutes after he thought it.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” It was just like her to apologize for a few minutes’ wait. She had always been punctual after all.

Punctual, obedient and caring. Levi was rattling off epithets in his mind like he was giving a eulogy.

“Come on, let’s get you up to speed.” She grabbed his two hands and gently pulled him up. She led him through the therapy room, passing one person after the other. And it was easy enough to follow suit.

Her eyes were scanning everything as she spoke, too full of life that Levi shouldn’t have been able to so easily picture her leaning limply on a tree.

Lifeless. For some reason, Levi’s stomach was turning.

“Okay, I’ll unwrap this now…” The sound of velcro, the weight falling of his leg, those two sensations in particular penetrated into his trance. “Levi are you okay? You haven’t talked since we got here. But you never really talk anyway… Sorry for asking, I realized that just sounds weird.”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” Another scripted response. But it seemed to work.

“Okay… One foot in front of the other.”

Levi followed the motions in front of him. Not the voice. He willed himself to look down, so he could forget her presence, force himself to pretend it wasn’t her of all people supporting him through the ordeal of putting weight on his injured knee.

For a split second, he was almost grateful for his injury, the odd sensation in his step was jarring enough for him to be able to forget her voice for a moment.

But only for a moment.

His knee was off the brace and for a few seconds it was stiff. Stiff enough that Levi thought it would hold as he put his left foot forward, forcing a little more weight on it than what could have been comfortable. And it threatened to wobble, it threatened to let go, unbuckle, retear all the already damaged ligaments underneath. It threatened to leave him on the ground worse off than before.

As Levi pondered those possibilities all at once, his thoughts flew back to the ticking inside him. It had been nagging to get his attention since a while ago after all. The knee was a call back to it with the way it threatened to explode and send pain rattling through him.

Just like the ticking time bomb.

Of all things, it was the routine exercises that had him understanding the nature of the aches and the weights that had been looming above him since their hike. The ache was a side effect of carrying such heavy weights. But where did the weight come from?

Uncertainty was a weight. Confusion, chaos and confrontations with the unknown were weights. Grief and mourning were weights. Levi couldn’t tell which it had been or whether it was all of them at once. They were glomping at him though and it was a miracle Levi could even get one foot in front of the other.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We thought we’d show up now, you know... In case you end early.”

“You didn’t have to, I still have twenty more minutes left. You're way too early.”

“It’s your belated birthday celebration. Besides, we haven’t seen each other in months.”

“Yeah, Oluo here was the one who insisted we hurry.”

“Shut up!”

Petra Ral. Oluo Bozado. Gunther Schultz. Eld Jinn.

The conversation continued, peppered with too many protests from Petra.

Just go. Levi would have wanted to say. He was in no mood to even be outside. The echo of unintelligible conversations were only making the whole ordeal unbearable already.

“Oh, is that… Levi Ackerman?”

“Oluo, he can hear you.”

“So the rumors were true. You really did get injured during training.”

Was Oluo talking to him? Levi forced his eyes up at them, and at that moment, the scene in the forest flashed before him. But he kept his chin high and let out a slight nod.

Oluo was saying something else to him. Followed by Gunther then Eld.

Introductions? Levi was too busy reminding himself that they were alive to even comprehend such a conversation. They’re alive. Those two words had become a chant that overpowered any other attempt at conversation.

“Petra, go ahead. Think of this as an early birthday present.” The person who spoke up should have been a life saver. After all, he looked like he had been successful in getting Petra's attention.

Petra looked very much ready to listen to that voice as she let go of Levi's hands and looked to the chair behind him. “Really?”

“Levi shouldn’t be having too strenuous of a session. I’ll handle it for today.” But he wasn't an hero. In fact, his voice had only left Levi worse off than before.

“If you say so… But why, sir?”

“It was my fault, I took him hiking yesterday. Sorry for only telling you now...” That was Hange's voice.

Levi expected relief to wash over him or maybe a lightness to take over as Petra guided him to his seat and let go of him. Surprisingly though, it had left him heavier, yet oddly empty. Even when she had said her goodbyes and walked away with her group of friends, Levi found himself completely frozen, unable to even look up and muster a smile in greeting.

There were more pressing matters after all. Like that one moment he started to realize how the weight had managed to feel heavier, even when it was already crushing him both inside and out.

I’m making the choice. Give up on your dreams and die. Lead the soldiers straight to hell.

Isn’t that what he told him? Before he marched to his death?

“Don’t get me wrong hiking is great physical therapy. But this is something Levi should have only been after a few more months of recovery.” Erwin crouched down in front of him and started to push at his knee.

“I should have been more careful,” Hange said.

Erwin continued. “This isn’t just an ACL tear. We’re talking about a multiple ligament injury. Full recovery is far more difficult to attain.” He gently ran his hands through Levi’s knee for a few seconds and soon he started to guide the knee through some light exercises.

Was it supposed to hurt? His knee was stiff. It was resisting the bends for sure. But was it hurting? Levi was starting to realize, he couldn’t tell. At that moment, he was dealing with pains far greater than that

“Levi, can you tell me if anything hurts? It looks like there’s no residual swelling at least…”

“Nothing hurts.” That was easy enough to say.

Those cold blue eyes locked on Levi’s, as if studying him. That should have been enough to keep him focused on reality. But how many times had he seen those cold blue eyes somewhere else? And Levi’s mind started to wander elsewhere, to that last view of Erwin on his horse before he took down the beast titan, to that last attempt to keep him alive, and finally, to that choice to let him die.

I didn’t regret it. But should he have regretted it?

“You sure? If you keep this to yourself, you might just end up regretting it,” Erwin said.

I didn’t regret it. Levi thought to himself. Did he say it out loud? He couldn’t tell.

At that moment, even when Levi had let his eyes fall to the ground, he still felt Erwin’s eyes on him, cold and calculating. He was certain he didn’t regret his decision to let Erwin die that day.

Regret, grief and fear though were three different monsters in themselves. Although one of them, he had easily brushed away, the latter two lingered. Did Erwin hold any animosity towards him for making that decision? Should he have let him live so he could see the basement?

Did those feelings have anything to do with the ache in his heart then, the feeling of being completely frozen, with the world completely out of his control?

Levi couldn’t be too sure. So he verbalized the only emotion that he could grasp. “I won’t regret it.”

Erwin let out a sigh. His features softening. And somehow that quick turn of events had Levi a little taken aback. “I don’t care if you won’t regret it. My job here as your doctor is to give you the best prospects. Competitive jumping is out of the basket for sure. but who knows you might be able to go into long distance running or cycling in the future…”

Levi watched as a hand settled on his thigh, he followed it to see Erwin had stood up. Levi didn’t meet his eyes then but he could have sworn he could feel Erwin’s gaze on him.

“It pains me to see someone like this giving up on recovery,” Erwin continued. “Especially someone with your talent Levi. You shouldn’t have to limit the world for yourself over one incident.”

You shouldn’t have to limit the world for yourself over one incident.

You shouldn’t have to limit the world for yourself over one promise.

Over one promise. Would Erwin have told him that then? Levi looked up at Erwin again just to be certain those words hadn’t been some figment of a fevered dream. Levi met his eyes and somehow, he found assurance in the way Erwin's features had softened and the the way his lips curled up into a subtle smile..

“Hange, take care of him okay? I’ll see you two later.” Those had been the last words Levi remembered Erwin saying. He had said something about having to check on a few more pages. Hange had commented something about him overworking himself on a Sunday of all days then proceeding to call him a workaholic.

It was definitely a ‘see you later.’ Not a ‘goodbye.’ But somehow, it cut deeper, it cut into him so heavily that Levi could only sit frozen, grappling for some comprehension of his emotions then.

He was alive. Hell, all of them were still alive. Yet Levi was sure, he was still mourning. And he was mourning multiple deaths at once. Deaths that didn’t happen yet Levi could have sworn had happened. That was what manifested as this crushing weight on his shoulders and an ache in his heart.

A weight on his shoulders. Hange decided to play on that then. Levi found himself looking up to see her looking down at him. The weight? Of course there’d be weight, she had placed both her hands on his shoulders and squeezed them hard.

“Come on, let’s go out for lunch.” She gave him the warmest smile. Eventually she let go though, instead pulling him up from the chair.

“Lunch?”

“Didn’t I tell you this morning? I got Armin to meet us for lunch. And he’s taking Mikasa with him. You wanted to talk to Mikasa right?” Hange didn’t wait for a reply. Instead she pulled him gently out of his seat and guided him to a standing position.

Levi didn’t plan on responding anyway, too occupied by everything else at once. Even when she was the one pulling her weight, the heavy weight on his shoulders stayed and it blanketed him, all the way until his back and down to his knees.

A strange feeling altogether. He had clocked that familiar weight to grief and mourning minutes ago already and his mind had supplemented his comprehension with visions of their last moments, visions of lifeless bodies.

Yet, even when Levi continued to stare at Hange, even when he had tried to find something similar in her hazel eyes in that split second that they locked, his efforts came up empty.

So he continued to search, even when she had looked away, pulled him through the stark white hallways of the hospital. For a good long while, all he could see was a back profile. Hange after all, had been pulling him the whole way, guiding him through.

That view in itself served as some veritable reminder that she had left him a similar weight. Yet there was no vision of a body, no vision of that last moment with her.

All Levi had was a good bye. But it wasn’t a ‘good bye,’ it was a ‘see you later.’ She had only turned her back on him and flown up to the sky after all.

Just because she flew up, didn’t mean she wouldn’t fly back down right?

Hange’s voice faded to the background. In the silence that followed, the silence that loomed over the ten minute stroll all the way to the diner. The time bomb was still ticking.

And it was ticking much louder. It was cunning about it. It ticked to the rhythm of murmurs, the clack of footsteps and to the honking of cars and it created a cacophony of sounds in the silence that battered Levi in a way that he could have sworn was only for him.

And finally it ticked to the bell that rang at the entrance of the diner.

“You’re here!” Hange chimed. She raised one hand in greeting.

Levi didn’t bother to follow her gaze but he was sure she had been talking about Armin. Soon after, he felt the grip on his hand tighten.

Hange continued to pull him forward. “Mikasa has a really busy schedule. We were lucky to get her off on a Sunday.”

He had been planning to talk to Mikasa. But somehow, then, he wasn’t at all excited to see her. Every familiar face he had run into that day had forced through him more emotions than necessary.

So he braced himself as he sat on the booth. When Hange had brushed her hand next to him and put her arm playfully around him, he tensed up for a second as once again and the ticking inside him flared. He moved to avoid the gaze of both Mikasa and Armin who had already settled on the booth minutes before.

“Armin! It’s been a while. Thank you for taking the time out to see me. I just wanted to send over a few documents for my thesis…” Hange started.

The rustle of papers, the sound of rubber swatting on paper, an envelope closing and opening.

And Hange continued. “Could you make sure your friends go through it and sign it? No rush though, I’m sure they’re still busy with competitions. You can send it over next year after the winter holidays.”

“I’ll still try my best to get it done as early as I can... You’re pressed for time right?”

“I still have a lot of other sections to write so even if you send it early, I probably wouldn’t look through it until mid January or even February.”

“Will remember that.” Armin was silent for a moment before he spoke up again. “Also… Levi...”

Levi didn’t need to look at them to feel Armin’s gaze on him. Armin’s tone was hesitant and maybe a little too soft, yet somehow, that tone in particular made the unwanted attention all the more glaring. “Armin…” Levi said, as he let out a light nod in greeting. He braced himself for another ache, like the ones that had been bombarding him since he woke up that morning.

As it turned out though, nothing came.

“Oh, you still remember my name! I thought you would have forgotten since we didn’t talk for long,” Armin continued. “I’m not the most memorable person either…”

Levi slowly looked up to see Armin and Mikasa sitting side by side, like he had seen them so many times before in dreams. Oddly enough, Looking at them didn't give the same effect he had braced himself for.

And he found himself questioning. Was it really grief? Yet Hange’s presence there next to him was pounding, it was crushing. So how could he be so sure, it wasn't his inability to process at fault?

“Nice to meet you,” Levi said. He wondered if it had taken him longer than necessary to muster that greeting. He started to realize then, he had lost track of time.

“Hange told me you needed to talk to Mikasa so I asked her to come along.”

“Sorry if it was a little too last minute…” Hange said. “But I’m really grateful you showed up.

“No, it’s fine,” Mikasa answered. She let out a sliver of a smile and stuck out her hand for a shake. “I don’t do much on Sundays.”

“Either way, lunch is my treat,” Hange said as she pushed the menus closer to them with one hand and reciprocated the handshake with the other. “Order whatever you want.”

Ordering their next meal was quick and easy. Levi found himself skimming through the first page and picking whatever meal had the largest picture and the most glaring large price. He couldn’t bring himself to think beyond that.

The process of ordering the meals was methodical, natural and to Levi, it felt almost like an odd source of calm.

A calm which ended a little too soon. “You’re Levi Ackerman, the high jumper from Paradis University right?” Mikasa spoke up first. She had phrased it as a question but she sounded sure of her conjecture.

When Levi looked at her eyes, he was sure she knew the answer. He didn’t bother to even nod in return.

“Your coach put you up to this huh?”

“Put me up to what?” Levi found himself playing the same game as her.

“He’s been approaching me about applying since October,” Mikasa said.

“That’s what scouts do,” Levi answered matter-of-factly. “They look for the best players and convince them to join the team.”

“Tell them I’m not interested. I’m taking a gap year,” Mikasa said.

Levi could see from his peripherals the way Armin had fidgeted in his seat.

Hange looked like she was still finding the right words to say. She cleared her throat. “Why are you taking a gap year?”

There was someone she didn’t wanna leave behind. His coach had told him the answer already.

And he had the name on hand already. “It’s Eren isn’t it?” Levi asked.

“Eren?” Hange asked. “Your other friend?”

If Mikasa was surprised about how quickly Levi had figured out the root cause, she just didn’t show it. She looked unfazed as she answered. “I’ll wait for Eren to decide what college he’ll be going to.”

“Paradis University is a good school. You should at least consider it.” Hange said.

Armin nodded in agreement. “We’ve talked about this Mikasa.”

“I don’t wanna leave Eren. Besides, the prestige of the university isn't important to me.”

“It’s not just that,” Levi said. “If you want to continue high jumping after college…” It was hard enough already for Levi to speak up. The way Mikasa looked at him though had him a little more self conscious than usual and Levi found himself trailing off.

“What if I don’t wanna continue high jumping in college?” Mikasa asked. She gave him a onceover, all too observantly, almost judgemental. “I heard about your injury. I’m sure you already know what can happen if we overcommit to one thing.”

Overcommit? You lose everything in one go then you scramble to find some other purpose. Then Levi found himself asking something else. Was he the best person to convince Mikasa? He was a textbook example of a worst case scenario after all.

Despite such doubts though, Levi was convinced he was someone who could. He stared intently at Mikasa and studied the way she avoided his gaze soon after making such a bold statement. He started to suspect that that wasn’t her only reason for hesitating.

He only had to listen to that little voice in his head. The one that accompanied that ticking sensation and the dull aches to figure it out for himself. “You’re not gonna lose Eren if you go to a different college.”

“It’s not about losing him. It’s about wanting to be with him.”

“So you’re willing to give up a good opportunity like this… for Eren?”

Eren. He had said that name more than enough times in that span of a few minutes. He saw the way Mikasa avoided his gaze as she let her eyes fall.

Mikasa had given him that look before--- or more specifically, she had tried to avoid giving him that look before.

We can still talk to Eren. Levi started to hear those words as echoes, then too vividly. That was when Levi noticed, the past few minutes, he had been a little lighter, he had managed to round up enough conversation without having to pull some weight.

But what was it? He only had to let it loose for a bit to understand.

Something had ignited inside Levi, an ember that soon enough might even evolve into something difficult to control.

Give me a break… How many times did we save his life only for him to betray us like that?

But Mikasa wanted to stay with him. Levi soon realized, it wasn’t anything new. She had always been over fixated on Eren and with that, it was only natural that she would struggle to let go of him.

Levi barely knew Eren though. But at the same time, he could have sworn he knew him well.

We’re not in a place where we can be concerned about Eren any longer.

The frustration came first. The scenes that replayed in his head in a split second soon followed. When all three of them were watching him, Levi found himself unable to do anything but grip the edge of the table until his knuckles burned.

What was he supposed to tell her? Even before Levi could cherry pick the best statements in a vat full of emotions and memories which weren’t supposed to exist anyway, his mouth went ahead.

And he only realized he had probably said something a little too offensive, too out of touch from the current situation when he noticed the way Mikasa’s face shifted from one of pure surprise to one seemingly reminiscent of some raw animosity.

“Eren? What do you know about Eren?” Hange asked, looking surprised about the turn of events.

Eren was in the story for sure. Levi soon realized though, he had never connected that name to the founding titan in his writings.

Eren was the founding titan. The puzzle pieces were starting to build events a little more clearly. And soon enough Levi was seeing flashes of scenes as he stared up at Mikasa.

“What the hell do you know about Eren? Besides, why are you the one approaching me? Are you the captain of their team or something? Are you sucking up to your coach? Are you trying to get back on his good side after injuring yourself?” Mikasa asked. Her voice was cold and whether she had meant any ill will with the way she mouthed off like that, Levi never figured it out.

He tensed up with one word. Captain.

“Oh, you’re the captain?” Armin chimed in a little too enthusiastically, as if trying to dissipate the thickness of the air then. “Last time, I remembered it was Elijah… Maybe next time we should invite him…”

Captain Levi.

The next few memories enjoyed a smooth entrance in flashes, in sensations. But for the first time though, a meticulous-minded Levi didn’t enjoy such organization.

Captain Levi. Armin was still calling him captain even when he was already commander.

But Hange was the commander. Or so that was what Levi remembered. Since when was Armin commander? The memories answered the questions as soon as he asked him.

Levi was left speechless, void of any more questions.

“Levi? Are you okay?”

I’m going home.

Along the way, the memories had jostled that ticking bomb inside him. Soon, it turned out, it wasn't a bomb that waited for time to elapse. It was a bomb waiting for the right pressure at the right points.

The flares were threats that had seemed empty at first. But Levi soon realized, the bombshell continued to expand within him as if in slow motion. When it had enough, it threatened to release something worse.

And Levi was terrified to see what it was capable of.

“Levi, where are you going?”

Home. But where was home? The dorm? It used to be Hange. Maybe a few days ago, it would have been anywhere with her.

Levi lowered his expectations. Not home. Somewhere where he could be alone.

He called a taxi, and gripped the side door the whole way home. He had wasted a good meal worth of food with that taxi ride but Levi wasn’t feeling like eating anyway. He hobbled up the stairs and straight to his room, ignoring the twinge of protests from his knee.

The bomb had exploded a while back. It released more emotions than necessary. But as Levi soon realized--- and he should have known before---pent up emotions don’t have to come out as tears or as red hot anger.

It could come as catatonia. It could come out as a light switch that was hurriedly turned off inside him then a gradual transition to darkness and silence.

When he arrived in his empty dorm room, he felt it and he saw a blank slate, only accentuated by the darkness of the room. Levi couldn’t even bring himself to turn on the lights.

Write. Wasn’t that what he had been doing since before?

Those emotions that had released inside him that brought forth inside him---a blank slate, were begging to be written. But soon Levi realized, it wasn’t begging. They were threatening to force themselves out in predictable ways.

He had to find a way out.

Have you tried writing out how you feel? It’s a great way to process your thoughts and emotions. Something whispered inside him. Shela's words from months ago still echoed clearly in his head.

And the movements that followed were automatic. The laptop was in sleep mode. He only had to click once to reopen the desktop, click twice to open the browser and click one more time to bookmark the document where he had written everything.

Levi scrolled down to the last sentence.

Shoot or Listen. It’s up to you. He took a deep breath and continued to write.

***

Levi didn’t lock the door. And for what felt like an eternity, he was in his own world.

That eternity turned out to have lasted only a few hours though. By the time he noticed, the sun had set and Levi found himself staring at the clock at the bottom right of his screen.

He stared at it for a good long while. Even after the footsteps stopped. Even after the door slammed behind him.

“I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been snappy since we got back yesterday…” Even after Hange started talking.

And she continued to talk, even when Levi had committed to staring at his screen for the next minute already.

“I thought for a while that it could be because I did something wrong… I mean, yeah I brought that plan up out of nowhere. When I saw you were irritable yesterday I thought of inviting you to come with me and Armin… And I invited Mikasa along to help you out and since you didn’t protest, I thought it would be a good idea… But what Mikasa said hadn’t been nice either… She’s sorry about it...” Hange trailed off. She let out an uncomfortable sounding cough.  “The point is, Levi if you’re not comfortable with what I’m doing, just tell me. If you’re feeling sad about something, or angry, you know you can run to me right? You’ve been dealing with my bullshit for so long, this is the least I can do.” She paused for a second. “Are you listening? I really think it's important that we resolve this now…”

Then the lights came on, the glare bright enough for Levi to tense up in his seat.

“Sorry...The room was so dark.” Hange added wryly. “But anyway, I’m worried. Actually though I’ve been worried about you since your knee injury…”

The footsteps came closer yet Levi couldn’t bring himself to move. He eyed the X button on his browser. Yet the vacillation took a second longer than he would have liked.

“Is this about your story?” Hange asked. Yet, she didn’t seem surprised, as if that was where she wanted the conversation to go the whole time.

Levi didn’t answer.

“You know, I read your document before I came here,” Hange prodded the topic without hesitation. “Correct me if I’m wrong because I’m probably just making some weird assumptions now but… is this about Commander Hange dying in your story? Since you know, those are the newest updates I saw on the document, since you left the diner...”

Commander Hange? Dying? “She didn’t die.”

“Really?” Hange sounded purplussed. “When she flew up and fought the titans... but maybe I read it wrong.”

“She flew up,” Levi agreed. He found himself mimicking her tone as he said it, as if the only way he could bring himself to speak was to take the words from her and make it his own. “But it doesn’t mean she isn’t coming down,” he added a second later.

“But she burned alive right? Up there…” Hange said. “Unless...I did read it wrong.”

In the silence that followed, Levi could only watch as an icon appeared on the upper right of his screen--- anonymous otter. Hange had opened the document up on her phone.

“See you later, Hange. Keep watching over us,” She read aloud.

It felt almost surreal hearing those words from her mouth. The words stung and they stung as badly or even worse than they did when he first wrote it out. Hange’s voice of all things, repeating those same words he had said so long ago, sounded almost mocking.

Levi stared at the black line that blinked next to that sentence and he was almost tempted to erase those words before she said it again.

“Keep watching over us… It’s only natural people would assume she died right?” Hange asked.

He looked back to see her sitting on his bed, staring at her phone. “There was no body,” Levi argued.

“So she’s coming back?”

No. She didn’t. But thinking and saying those words meant different things and Levi was in no mood to articulate such a proposition.

“So she didn’t come back?” Hange asked, she waved her hand in front of him, looking pointedly at him as if to say ‘your face says it all.’

And Levi found himself a little self conscious of that last face he made. “It’s not over. She could still come back.”

“Captain Levi’s last view of Commander Hange was her burning alive and before that, didn’t she ask Captain Levi to let her go?”

“Why are you pushing it? Do you want her to be dead?”

Hange gave him the most incredulous look. “But you’re the one who wrote it…. Hange died....” She looked away for a second, out at the window, but it didn’t look like she was appreciating the scenery. Before Levi could ponder such a reaction, she looked back at him, looking much calmer. “Are you okay Levi?”

Levi found it useless to answer. He could see in her eyes, Hange had already made a conclusion already.

“Why is Commander Hange’s death bothering you so much? Is this related to the knee injury? Is this related to losing jumping? Is this related to your hyperfixation with writing now? Come on, Levi. Talk to me. And now that I think about it, how long has it been since you talked to Shela?”

“I’ve been busy with school.”

“Okay, you’re busy with school. Then I’ll be Shela. Talk to me. I’ll listen. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay. Nothing's wrong then." Hange nodded her head so gaudily it was obvious she didn't agree. "But Commander Hange’s dead.”

“It pisses me off how you can say that with such a casual voice.”

“Because I’m talking about the Commander Hange in your story. As far as I can tell, she died. And I have enough confidence in my reading comprehension skills Levi. Besides, why are you so touchy about her being dead?”

“Because. She. isn’t. Dead.”

“Why are you overfixated on a character you’re writing? And why are you insisting that she’s alive even after describing her burning alive in the air?”

“Why are you so obsessed with saying she’s dead?”

Hange raised her hands up in exasperation. “I’m not obsessed with saying she’s dead. If I’m obsessed with anything, it’s with pulling you out of this hole you dug yourself into. If you’re looking for Hange Zoe… She’s right here. I’m right here. I’m alive Levi.” Her voice sounded desperate. Her face though then had been genuine, like it always had been since he met here.

Yet, Levi found it mocking. “Are you commander Hange?”

Hange’s face fell. “Why name your character Hange Zoe then?” She challenged.

“Because that’s her name.”

“That’s my name too. Are you saying it’s a coincidence that our names are both Hange?”

“If you were Hange, you would know what happened to her.”

“She died,” Hange said too easily. Her voice was getting more and more grating by the second. But she didn’t stop. “My name is Hange Zoe, squad leader titan and researcher. On our expedition to take back Wall Shiganshina, Commander Erwin Smith died and left me with the commander title. Then the world opened up, then we prepared for a war with Marley…”

With the words flowed carried by that familiar voice, Levi could have sworn it was very much Hange.

And she continued. “Then in the forest… I told you...'I’d rather we just live here together, right Levi?'”

As she continued to talk, as she continued to quote herself, Levi could almost believe it had been her. But he couldn’t help but notice the disconnect in her tone.

“And when the colossal titans caught up… There was only one way out right? So I volunteered myself…”

You understand right? It’s finally here. It’s my turn. I want to look as cool as I possibly can right now.

So just let me go, will you?

The disconnect was apparent. When Commander Hange had said those words, her voice had cracked and faltered, particularly to the sound of the rumbling behind them then that was only getting louder and louder. Yet the Hange in front of him then, was saying it with a voice that was almost rehearsed.

Levi almost regretted sharing that file with her. Or maybe he did regret it. “Commander Hange would have remembered.”

“Remember what?”

Levi looked back at the screen and he let the catatonia once again blanket that bout of irritability. “Could you do me a favor. Just leave me alone first.” It had been a habit to say her name when he could since her name had served as some sort of a sanctuary since he first heard it. Oddly enough though, at that moment, even just saying her name out loud in his head had him recoiling. “I think I need to resolve this on my own.”

Hange let out a hitched breath. “Could you do me a favor too? It doesn’t have to be me… but can you at least talk to someone, Levi?” she asked.

Levi. The way she had said, had sounded so familiar. As if she knew him. But she knew nothing about Captain Levi and for some reason, that had Levi almost irritated, as if at that moment, Hange was prying into barriers he had set up for himself. Barriers that only Commander Hange should have been able to penetrate.

“Maybe I will talk to someone,” Levi said coldly. “I don’t need to hear it from you. Also, turn off the lights on your way out.” He fixed his eyes again on the screen, at the black letters on the white screen which weren’t making sense then. Maybe because he was too focused on the long sigh that had cracked along the way.

Hange’s sigh and that crack in her voice, like he had heard it countless times alone with her in the commander’s office. Then room went dark again as she switched off the lights and slammed the door shut.

Even when she had left the room, Levi heard her stilted sigh of exhaustion like he had heard it in the forest then, then in Odiha before she flew up in the air.

That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that Levi.

Even long after the door slammed behind him, Levi found himself fixated on that last line. Those last words spoken to him.

Maybe he started to believe that Commander Hange was gone too. Hange had proven it herself, although she was the closest thing to Commander Hange, she wasn’t Commander Hange either.

He closed the document to see the file was still displayed on his drive. He right clicked on it and down to the ‘remove’ button. He hovered his mouse over ‘remove’ then over the trash icon.

He started to wonder why the document existed and why he had shared it to Hange of all people. And with that, it became a little easier to click.

He clicked on ‘trash.’

Items in trash are deleted forever after thirty days. Thirty days was too long. He right clicked the document. His mouse hovered over those last two buttons for a few seconds more.

Restore

Delete forever.

‘Forever’ is a very long time. And that word in particular had Levi hesitating, keeping his mouse over it for a good few seconds more.

Then he started to wonder. What was the point of writing it? Who was he satisfying, writing everything out? And if Hange had existed, hell if Erwin, Petra, Isabel, Farlan and everyone else had existed, only to die, what was the point of writing everything out?

Of all things, it was Hange’s rant of a while ago that had him hesitating for maybe even a minute longer. Hange was invested for sure. If he hadn’t heard that disconnect in her voice, that part of her voice that lacked 'the Commander Hange' element, maybe he would have believed she was the commander.

But it was apparent in her voice, she wasn’t the commander. She was Hange Zoe, college senior, pre med student Hange Zoe who had gotten a little too attached to the story.

Her investment, her attempt to recount the story to Levi, had been that final nail on the coffin that had him clicking ‘delete forever’ twice in a row, a little too quickly.

He had been too invested too. For a few minutes longer, Levi stared at that empty space in his dashboard, and he couldn’t so easily get rid of the emptiness in his chest then.

What now? That question had been a little too difficult to answer. And Levi limped back to the bed and started to scroll through his phone. Seeing the message in all capital letters in banner notifications, Levi opened his messages.

LEVI? WHERE’S THE FILE?

And before Levi could respond, he heard footsteps get louder. Levi lunged for the door and locked it, gritting his teeth as it sent a wave of pain up his knee.

One knock. Then two. Then she spoke up. “Levi! Did you delete it? Levi?” Another knock.

He would have liked to ignore it, let her knock until her knuckles ached. But she had been difficult to ignore, especially as the knocks evolved to slams on the door.

“Come on! Why the hell did you do that?”

“It’s my file. I can do what I want,” Levi shouted, hopefully loud enough for her to hear.

Just outside the door, she had said other things for sure but Levi had started to scroll through his timelines, immersing himself instead on jumps, cat videos and the latest scandal on twitter.

Along the way, the words died down from screams of nonsense, and Levi started to listen again as it mellowed down to a crack in her voice, and a sound that had sounded like a mix of a sigh, a grown and a scream.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Then there were footsteps. Then silence.

For the next hour, it had been him and his timeline. An hour after that, he found himself looking through videos of Mikasa, then Elijah, then Mike then Nanaba.

They were all busy with Nationals and they would be for the next few months. Elijah had an invitation to train with the national team. With a quick google search, Levi confirmed as well that Mike and Nanaba had their invites too.

He felt the beginnings of what could have been a rumination of what-ifs that Levi was sure wouldn't have been a pleasant experience. Before his mind could wander though, he quickly put his phone in his bed side drawer and scooched a few more inches away from it. The distance was enough at least for Levi to scooch back closer to it, bend down and reopen the drawer.

But even without the material, Levi was reflecting. Eventually, he had let the uncertainty, that fear of the unknown blanket him in the dark. The weight loomed again and the aches took over.

And they whispered too many questions at one. Questions that Levi soon realized could be summarized to two words. What now?

[burkymakar]

Hi my favorite athletic reader. If possible could you post anything important from Baughers new article on Gabe?

lol i feel so used. it's under the cut haha

Gabriel Landeskog rolled up to the Avalanche practice rink, a 19-year-old figuring he was heading into a meeting about the upcoming 2012-13 season. A potential lockout loomed, and he wondered if he and his teammates were about to get information on what would happen next.

But only one teammate was there when Landeskog got inside Family Sports Center in Centennial, Colo.: captain Milan Hejduk. Then-Colorado coach Joe Sacco was there, too. They wanted to speak to Landeskog privately.

At the time, Hejduk was entering his 14th season with Colorado. The veteran was the only player left from the Avalanche’s 2001 Stanley Cup team, and he knew his career was winding down. He was no longer a top forward on the team and didn’t feel it would be right to remain captain. Someone else needed to take the role, Landeskog remembers Hejduk telling him that day.

“And I think that person is you,” Hejduk said.

The young winger was caught off guard. He let out a stunned laugh. At the time, no permanent captain in league history had ever been named at so young an age. A tornado of emotions followed: shock, excitement and — naturally — nerves. He called his dad immediately after the conversation.

“You’ve got to this point being who you are,” Tony Landeskog told his son. “Don’t try to be somebody you’re not.”

That advice stuck with Landeskog, and from that day forward, his “C”-embroidered jersey has been a constant for the Avalanche. It was there through the promising years with Nathan MacKinnon, Ryan O’Reilly and Matt Duchene, and it was there when that core fell apart. It was there through the pain of rebuilding, and it was there as the Avalanche emerged as a league power.

Now, its era in Denver could be coming to a close.

For the first time in his NHL career, Landeskog is a pending unrestricted free agent. And after a decade in Denver, he doesn’t know what’s coming next.

“The uncertainty is something I’ve never dealt with,” Landeskog says. “I’ve always known that come September, October, I’m going to pull on that Avs jersey.”

Landeskog has repeatedly said he wants to stay with Colorado, and the Avalanche want to bring him back. But with star defenseman Cale Makar set to receive a massive raise in restricted free agency and the Avalanche up against the salary cap, general manager Joe Sakic is facing tough decisions this offseason.

Landeskog wants long-term security. Currently, he’s in limbo.

“I can’t help but be honest with you that I’m a little bit disappointed that it’s gotten this far and it’s had to come to this point,” Landeskog says.

Now 28, Landeskog could be looking at his last chance to sign a major, multiyear contract. The Avalanche, meanwhile, must decide how much they are willing to spend — and for how many years — on a physical, two-way forward approaching 30.

Teams must submit protection lists Saturday for the July 21 Kraken expansion draft, and if Colorado doesn’t protect Landeskog, Seattle will have a window to bargain with him before free agency begins July 28. Landeskog’s reputation as a leader and production (52 points in 54 games this past season and 171 in 181 over the past three) will make him a popular target should he reach the open market. Teams like the Kraken, Blues, Kings, Flyers and Oilers jump out as potential suitors.

Talks between the Avalanche and their captain have increased in frequency in recent days, but the sides are still far away from an agreement, according to a league source.

“We’ll see what happens,” Landeskog says. “I’m still hopeful that we can agree on something and come to terms, but if it was up to me, I would have liked it to be done eight months ago, 10 months ago.”

In the nine seasons since Hejduk handed over the captaincy, Landeskog has gone from a green-but-mature up-and-comer to the calming presence on an elite team. He’s now a parent, one of the older players on the Avalanche and their unquestioned leader.

“It’s been a constant learning curve,” he says.

He’s grown, and he’s growing. The question is if that will continue with the Avalanche.

One day during his first season as captain, Landeskog stood in the Family Sports dressing room for a players-only meeting, taking note of teammates in their 30s, veterans who had spent more than a decade in the NHL. In only his second season, Landeskog could hear his voice shake.

“It probably was pretty laughable how nervous I was,” he says.

The Avalanche were in the midst of a rough stretch in what amounted to a season of rough stretches. Landeskog leaned on older players — Hejduk, Jean-Sebastien Giguere, Paul Stastny, O’Reilly and Erik Johnson, to name a few — and one suggested a team meeting.

Landeskog doesn’t recall what he said that day, but he remembers the nerves — that quiver in his voice — and how the older players had his back. Others chimed in, and the team dissected what was going wrong.

Ultimately, the group was simply a transitioning team without enough talent to contend, and though Landeskog was captain that year, the team used a leadership-by-committee approach. Landeskog credits his teammates’ support for making the job easier, and Stastny remembers him being unafraid to ask questions.

Landeskog says he asked about everything from travel-day logistics to organizing team functions. The communication didn’t translate to on-ice success that year, as the team finished 16-25-7, but it laid the groundwork for how Landeskog still views his role as captain.

“That’s how leaders learn, too: They learn from other guys,” former teammate Greg Zanon says. “I think he was born for the job.”

Before giving Landeskog the “C,” Sacco and then-Avalanche general manager Greg Sherman both reached out to Hejduk, wanting to know what he’d think of the young Swede taking over the role. Landeskog, who had just won the Calder Trophy, hadn’t been a name on Hejduk’s radar for the captaincy because of his age, but the more he thought about the decision, the more it made sense.

So he voiced his approval for the player 17 years his junior.

“What can you say negative about Gabe?” Hejduk says today.

“It was only a matter of time,” Stastny adds. “If it was fast-tracked a year, I don’t think anyone really cared. Everyone knew it was coming.”

Still, Landeskog was nervous. He’d played in only 82 NHL games and was still trying to figure out the league himself. He didn’t know how his teammates would react to such a young captain. Part of him still thinks he might not have been ready.

Despite Landeskog’s concerns, the announcement went over well with the team. Duchene and winger David Jones tweeted their congratulations, and defenseman Ryan O’Byrne remembers liking the decision when he read the news on TSN’s website.

“The only conversations I had with teammates were, ‘Gabe’s the captain. That’s so great,’” O’Byrne remembers. “Why would we wait to give him the captaincy? There’s no reason to wait. He (was) ready. He’s just that type of person.”

“Even the older guys on the team looked up to him,” adds former Avalanche left winger Cody McLeod.

Landeskog’s makeup had begun earning praise from the second he arrived in North America from Sweden. He played major junior hockey for the Kitchener Rangers in the Ontario Hockey League and became the team’s first European-born captain. Sherman praised his confidence after drafting Landeskog second in 2011, saying he was mature beyond his years.

“It was like he was 30 years old already, the way he handled himself, the way he talked to us, talked to the media,” says Ryan O’Reilly, now the Blues captain and still a friend of Landeskog’s. “Everyone respected him right away. It’s rare. It’s why he was named captain so young.”

Adds Hejduk: “I had half the maturity Gabe had at 18.”

Shortly after learning he’d become captain, Landeskog came to the Pepsi Center (now Ball Arena) for a passing-of-the-torch ceremony. Hejduk presented his successor with a burgundy Avalanche sweater featuring a white “C,” and Landeskog pulled it over his white button-up shirt. The two shook hands and posed for cameras.

When Landeskog looks back at those pictures, he can’t help but notice how young he looks. His beard had yet to grow in, and he’d fashioned his hair — lighter than it is now — to be spiky in the front.

“I feel old when I look back at those pictures, because I was definitely a little kid standing there next to (Hejduk),” he says.

“The first year, year and a half, with him, if we went out for dinner, it was like he wasn’t even allowed to have a glass of wine or a beer,” says former Avalanche center John Mitchell, adding that Landeskog struggled to win poker games on team flights.

Landeskog, who has gone from too young to drink to now sponsored by Bud Light, believes he might have been too uptight early on in his captaincy. He’s learned to relax a bit more — that a season is long and sometimes the best approach is to focus on himself. He can’t expect others to work hard or play well if he’s not doing it himself.

The Avalanche’s decision to toss Landeskog into the fray as a teenage captain allowed him to learn the role before the team entered the win-now mode it is in currently. But Colorado’s progression hasn’t been linear. In 2016-17, the Avalanche finished last in the league by 21 points. Landeskog frequently had to face tough questions from reporters when he didn’t have answers.

“It definitely takes a toll on you when you have to do that,” he says. “But at the same time, I always knew that was part of the responsibility and part of the job. Playing in the NHL, being able to wear the ‘C’ in the NHL, it’s a dream not many people get to experience.”

And in 2017-18, tides began to shift for the Avalanche. MacKinnon had his first superstar-level season, finishing second in Hart Trophy voting, and Landeskog and winger Mikko Rantanen both scored more than 20 goals. The trio ascended to become arguably the best line in hockey, and smart drafting and savvy trades gave Colorado a deep defensive core, led by Makar, the Norris Trophy runner-up as a 22-year-old this past season.

As expectations have risen, the team and its captain are still searching for a deep playoff run. The pieces are in place, and the Avalanche reached the second round each of the past three seasons. But they haven’t broken through.

This past season, the Landeskog-captained Avalanche reached the regular-season pinnacle, winning the Presidents’ Trophy, given annually to the team with the best record in the league, and they were a consensus favorite to win the Stanley Cup entering the playoffs.

Landeskog dominated the Blues in a first-round sweep, igniting the Avalanche with a Gordie Howe hat trick (fight, assist, goal) in Game 1.

“He’s the captain for a reason,” Makar said after that game.

But Colorado faltered in its next postseason matchup, against Vegas, letting a 2-0 series lead slip away and losing in the second round for the third consecutive year. The most complete Avalanche team of Landeskog’s career couldn’t get over the hump.

“I’m proud of this group,” a dejected Landeskog said after the game. “I’m excited to be a part of this group. I love all the guys in there.”

And they love him, too. Ahead of the season, MacKinnon called him “the perfect captain,” and Avalanche coach Jared Bednar described the captain as their emotional leader, someone who drives them into the fight on a nightly basis.

“Usually those types of guys, top-three picks, are franchise players,” Hejduk says. “It seems like that’s the case with Gabe. I hope he’s going to finish his whole career with the Avalanche.”

That’s what Hejduk did, spending all 14 of his seasons with Colorado, but it’s not a common path in today’s NHL.

After 10 years with the Avalanche and nine as its captain, and with so much shared history, Landeskog could be the exception.

Since he was 19, it’s felt like he would be. But the coming weeks will show if that reality has shifted.

[ddaengyoonmin]

BTS Friends To Lovers Series (Jungkook)

Pairing: Swimmer!Jungkook x Swimmer! Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Cheating, Fingering, Nipple play, Praise kink, unprotected sex, outdoor sex

a/n: I included another member in this and we are just going to assume that they are the same age as Jungkook and the reader for this fic. 

Song Inspo: Swim- Chase Atlantic;  Youth Water- Manila grey

Word Count: 8k (Wow yikes so much for these being drabbles lmao)

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Weightlessness, the cold water holding your body up.  Nothing else matters but this, your mind completely focused on pushing your muscles to their limit, to victory.  Your arms moving with purpose, propelling you towards the touch pad, you are staring up at the bright lights on the ceiling through the water droplets splashing onto your goggles.  Red flags that hang over the pool now come into your view and you know what that means, you are only a few arm lengths away from the finish.  You use every last bit of your strength and glide with an outstretched arm, reaching your destination.  

As soon as your hand hits you instantly tear off your goggles and whip your head around to the screen high on the wall to your right.  Adrenaline flooding through your body. 

1: Y/L/N 00:57.96

Your face lit up instantly and you pumped a fist into the air, you grabbed on to the bars under the starting block and pulled yourself out of the pool, speed walking over to your team who were cheering and hugging you. 

“I broke a minute!” you squealed “Oh my god I can’t believe it” 

You’d been aiming for breaking a minute in your 100 yard backstroke your entire high school experience.  Now finally at 18 and a senior only a few weeks away from graduating, you’d finally done it and by way more than you thought you could.  You were so proud of your hard work paying off

Your spring team coach shot you a thumbs up and a wide grin from the other side of the pool. 

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

After the meet was over your coach pulled you aside with an excited look on her face, putting a letter into your hand. 

“There was a scout here from Bangtan University, and they think you have potential.  They are inviting you to a summer swim training camp for incoming freshmen and if you can get to 55.0 by the end of summer you’d get a full ride scholarship.  Even if you don’t make the time, they want you on the team and are offering a pretty nice scholarship” she clapped her hands together. 

You clapped a hand over your mouth

 “Seriously?” 

You hadn’t thought that you were anything that amazing, you weren’t the best swimmer on the team overall but you couldn’t argue, that backstroke time you’d just swam was quite impressive.  If this team saw potential in you, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to prove yourself. 

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

You had pulled into the parking lot of the university’s athletic center, many others were pulling in and walking over to the pool doors.  You felt so much excitement and nervousness at meeting your new teammates. 

You noticed that there were also men that were in the crowd of swimmers making their way to the pool doors, you hadn’t realized this was going to be a co-ed training.  You’d only swam with your girls from high school and it was the same team since you were in elementary school.  One of your best friends had also been offered a place on a college team, but to a different school.  You were going to miss her a lot, but you’d still get to see each other occasionally, and you were excited for this new adventure.   

You grabbed your bag that held your towel and gear and followed the crowd to the pool. 

After getting changed and admiring the incredible size of the facility you walked out to the pool where you could see the rest of the team gathered around a white board waiting for the coach to give further instruction. 

You found an open space to sit down on the floor next to a blonde tall man with broad shoulders, the perfect figure for a swimmer, you wondered if he did butterfly.  His shape and muscles seem to be very fitting for that stroke.  He was shirtless and you had to try to not make things awkward by staring at him or any of the other shirtless men scattered among the swimmers here. 

The man turned to you and extended a hand for you to shake.  

“I’m Jin” he smiled at you. 

You shook his hand and returned his friendly smile “y/n” 

The coach now started a speech introducing himself to the group and talking about the types of things that would take place here at the training camp, you’d get to compete against other colleges in practice meets and you’d be doing many time trials throughout the summer to see how you were improving. 

As the coach was starting to explain the workout for the day, the sound of a door slamming loudly from the direction of the locker rooms. 

A tall man with gorgeous jet black hair walked out from the men's locker room.  He was wearing the same tight fitting speedo that most all the other men were wearing and was wearing a white warm-up jacket that had a blue stripe down the side.  You let your eyes linger on how it was completely unzipped and exposing his extremely sculpted and muscular chest.  

“Ah Mr. Jeon.” the coach glared. “Thanks for gracing us with your presence today.” 

You half expected the coach to yell at the man and tell him to get out.  Showing up to your first day of practice was quite rude and didn’t really show good commitment to the team in your opinion.  

The man just silently stood back behind the rest of the team with his arms crossed, nodding for the coach to continue.  He was quite cocky you thought.  He must be really good to be able to get away with an attitude like that.  And as rude as it was, you also found it slightly amusing. 

The rest of practice went well, you work your hardest and tried to prove yourself, you ended up becoming the lane leader for your lane and were quite proud of that.  

There were eight lanes and it was split up by your times,  the fastest swimmers all in lane eight and the slowest in lane one.  You had surprisingly landed yourself in lane three which had surprised you, you weren’t the worst, and that was something!  

That cocky man Mr. Jeon had ended up in lane eight, and you noticed he was lane leader at that.  You were right, he had the speed to back up his cocky attitude.  The tall blonde named Jin was also in lane eight right behind him, so he must be the second best swimmer on your team. 

After practice was over you decided to step out of your comfort zone and approach him. 

He was pulling himself out of the pool to sit on the edge, pushing his wet strands of hair out of his face and breathing heavily from the workout. 

“Hey” you said with an awkward wave. 

He glanced up at you, raising an eyebrow wondering what you might want from him. 

“I-I just... wanted to say, I s-saw you swim and, y-you did a really good job, I mean, you swim well.  Your stroke is p-pretty, I mean pretty good.” Fuck why were you being so fucking awkward.  You weren’t very good at making new friends, but something in you just really wanted to get to know this man, and hoped that maybe he could help you improve on your times so that you could get that scholarship. 

He chuckled at your bumbling around. 

“Ah, Thank you” he stood and started to walk away. 

“What's your stroke!” you yelled after him.  

He turned and smiled “Freestyle.” he said simply, starting to walk away again.  He probably thinks you’re a complete weirdo but swimmers were always hungry, so...here goes nothing…

“Wanna grab some dinner?” 

He spun around again.  “Uh,” he thought for a moment “Yeah sure, why not.  Meet me outside the doors after we get changed, did you have something in mind?” 

Shit, you had nothing in mind.  “I was thinking pasta?” 

He put a hand to his chin in thought, “Okay, I know a good place.” 

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

You followed in your car behind Jungkook’s car to the place he had suggested for the two of you to eat and then got a booth seat at the restaurant, sitting across from each other. 

Jungkook ordered a big glass of milk and you chuckled a bit at that.  

“Good for the muscles” He shrugged cutely with a smirk. 

“So how long have you been swimming?” you asked, trying to make some small talk and swimming was basically your only conversation point even with your non swimmer friends. 

“My whole life pretty much”

“Yeah me too! I took one year off where I tried track but, I discovered I’m more of a water creature” you laughed.

Jungkook stared at you, narrowing his eyes.  You thought you must’ve been being awkward or offended him somehow without realizing it. 

“I feel like I’ve seen you before…” Jungkook says. 

Oh. 

“Um, not sure…” you didn’t quite know what to say. 

“4th grade! Summer swim team!” he exclaims.  “y/n y/l/n right?” 

Oh my god, you had actually done a co-ed swim team once when you were younger at a pool your family had a membership to.  You had totally forgotten about that. 

“Jeon...Jungkook!?” it suddenly clicked.  “Holy shit, yes, I remember you” 

He grinned and took a large drink of his milk leaving an adorable milk mustache on his upper lip. 

The two of you talked for the rest of the meal reminiscing on your memories of the team you were on together.  He had changed so much from the skinny dorky boy you’d known.  He was a man now and had grown up well. 

Suddenly he stopped mid conversation as his phone rang, he put up a finger and mouthed a sorry.  

“Hey hon” he answered. “Yeah-” he nodded “Okay I’ll be there soon, Just finishing up a meal with an old friend I reconnected with today…” he paused as the voice on the other end of the line said something “Yep, see you soon babe, love ya” he clicked the button to hangup. 

“Girlfriend?” you asked, slightly jealous for reasons you couldn’t quite understand, it’s not like you had any place to feel that way. You’d only just re-met him today, and he was an attractive man, of course he had a girlfriend. 

“Yep, I gotta hurry up and get going, she’s had a rough day at work” 

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The next couple weeks you went to practice every day besides Sunday and each day you and Jungkook would end up hanging out for a bit after. Sometimes going out to eat, and sometimes you’d stay late for him to help give you some tips on your swimming form.  You were happy to have made a friend like him.  You feel like you’d already improved so much. 

Today was the first practice meet you were going to have with another school and It was a home meet.  You were nervous but also couldn’t wait to see how much you’d improved.  

Right before you were about to enter the locker room to get changed Jungkook yelled out your name and motioned for you to come over to where he stood.   He was next to a skinny, curly haired blonde woman with glasses, she was dressed all in pink, tiny hot pink shorts, a tiny baby pink crop top that exposed her tanned stomach, and a pink headband holding back her perfect hair. 

“Y/n this is my girlfriend Missy” Jungkook motioned towards the girl.

You tried to give your friendliest smile and extended your hand out to the girl.  She didn’t return your gesture and instead rolled her big blue eyes slightly and looked you up and down while blowing a big bubble from the gum she was chewing loudly.  When it popped she turned to Jungkook

 “Kookieee, I don’t wanna wait in the stands for you, it’s way too hot up there.  Can’t I just be with you in the pool area” She spoke in a ditzy voice while she pouted, crossing her arms and pushing her perfect perky breasts up as she did, almost as if she was trying to use them to convince Jungkook to cave into her. 

“Missy I told you, you aren’t allowed in the pool area during a meet, I promise it won’t be too bad up in the stands.  Do you need some money to go to concessions and buy a cold drink or something” he whispered, but it was loud enough for you to hear.  

You shifted uncomfortably, debating on whether you should just leave to go get ready for the meet now.  Jungkook’s girlfriend obviously didn’t care for meeting you, and you didn’t quite care for her at all. 

Missy groaned childishly and just put a flat palm out towards Jungkook, which had him scrambling through his pockets and pulling out his wallet to put probably five times more money than she needed in her hand for the drink.  Yet she still held her hand out until Jungkook put even more money into her hand.  Then she instantly spun around on her heels and left. 

“Nice meeting you!” you yelled after her, well aware that you were lying. 

You turned to Jungkook with wide eyes. 

“Wow.  Whipped.” you chuckled. 

He sheepishly ran a hand through his hair, “She’s actually awesome once you get to know her.” 

You shrugged, “I’ll take your word for it” though you can’t imagine anything about that girl that would end up being a redeeming quality. 

“It really does get hot up in the stands…” he tried to stand up for his girlfriend. 

You chuckled “Well you gave her enough for like twenty cold drinks so I think she’ll be fine” 

Jungkook and You went to your separate locker rooms to get ready and then out to the pool.

The meet was going extremely well, you had placed in second in the last heat of the backstroke and improved a lot on your time just in the few weeks you’d been training.  You couldn’t be happier. 

It came time for Jungkook to swim the 200 Free, you made sure to stand on the edge of the pool  with the rest of the teammates where he could see when he went to take a breath, while you cheered enthusiastically for him. 

“Go Go Goooo Jungkook!” you yelled, jumping up and down in your spot.  He was amazing, his muscular arms pulled him forward through the water so gracefully, he was at least a full body length ahead of the other swimmers in his heat.  It was incredible watching him. 

You happened to glance up into the crowd to see Missy sitting on her phone, sipping on a lemonade and texting, not even looking up from it once to see how Jungkook was doing. 

It irritated you quite a bit.  Why was she even here?  

Jungkook finished in first, no surprise.  He seemed happy with his time, a wide grin on his face while he was hopping out of the pool.

You ran over to him, both hands out for a double high five that he returned instantly.  

The rest of the meet went well.  Your college ended up winning overall which put everyone in high spirits. 

After getting dressed and exiting the locker room out to the lobby of the aquatic center you decided you wanted to at least try to extend an olive branch to Jungkook’s less than pleasant girlfriend.  You didn’t want to lose Jungkook as a friend over something as silly as not getting along with Missy. 

You found Jungkook standing in the lobby looking around. 

“Hey you!” you smiled as you approached him “Do you and Missy wanna go out for a celebratory dinner on me?” 

“That sounds awesome! I just gotta find Missy.  Did you see her come down from the stands?” he looked confused as he scanned the crowd for her. 

“I didn’t, I’ll help you look around for her” 

He nodded and the two of you walked through the crowd to try and find her.  She was nowhere to be seen and the crowd was slowly getting thinner and thinner so it should’ve made it easier to see her.  Odd. 

After about ten minutes of searching the whole crowd was gone and it was only you and Jungkook standing in the lobby. 

“Okay, y/n, I’m kind of nervous.  Where could she be?”  Jungkook's eyes were full of worry. 

“Maybe she wasn’t feeling well and went home early?” you suggested. 

“She would’ve texted me…” his brow furrowed as he checked his phone to see if maybe he had missed a message or call. 

The two of you started to walk some of the hallways of the building looking around.  

Then an odd noise hit your ears, there was some giggling coming from a storage room. 

“That sounds like...What would she be doing in here?” Jungkook gripped the door handle and swung it open. 

His eyes almost flying out of their sockets at the sight of Missy completely naked her legs wrapped around your teammate Jin. 

“What the fuck!” Jungkook screamed angrily. Causing Missy and Jin to realize for the first time that they had been walked in on. 

Missy instantly jumped off of Jin, and Jin scrambled to cover himself up. 

“Jungkook wait!” Missy squealed as Jungkook slammed the door shut on the two of them, shaking slightly while he stomped down the hall away from them.  

You followed right behind him silently, not really knowing what to say. 

“Babe wait!” suddenly Missy was sprinting down the hall after the two of you, grabbing Jungkook by the shoulder trying to turn him around to face her.  He shook her off and kept walking, trying to just make it out the doors of the building and to his car, wanting to get as far away from her as possible. 

“Jungkook, please I can explain!” Missy was sobbing. 

“Missy.  Maybe now’s not the time.” You softly spoke at her in a serious tone. 

“Sorry bitch but no one was talking to you.” Missy snapped at you. 

At that Jungkook finally spun around to face her. 

“Don’t you dare Missy.  You’re the bitch right now okay? And I never want to fucking see your face again.  So please, leave me alone, go home.” he growled. 

Missy froze on the spot, Jungkook had never spoken to her so harshly before.  You felt that she deserved even worse than just some mean words after what she’d done, but that's none of your business. 

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

You drove Jungkook home, telling him it was probably not a good idea for him to drive himself due to the state of mind he was in, and he reluctantly agreed. 

You pulled up to his house and the two of you sat in silence for a moment before Jungkook spoke. 

“I was with her since eighth grade…” he choked out, covering his face with his hands as he was starting to tear up. 

You put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.  Wishing that you had the right words. 

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Jungkook missed practice for the next two days.  You texted him asking where he was both days and each time he answered with a simple ‘don’t feel well sry’ 

When he finally returned to practice he seemed to be pushing himself even harder than he was before.  You wondered if it was hard for him to swim in the same lane as Jin.

And your curiosity was answered when you were taking a breather after a set and heard some commotion going on from lane eight. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” You heard Jungkook screaming. 

“I said, it’s not my fault your girl is a SLUT” Jins voice boomed

You looked over to see Jungkook starting to pull his fist back, he wasn’t able to land his punch before a few of the other teammates from the lane were holding him back. 

The coach ran over and tried to defuse the situation. 

“That's it. Everyone out of the water!” The coach yelled to the whole team.  You all hopped out and went to sit on the benches or the floor to wait for further instruction. 

“You two.  Up on the blocks” the coach motioned for Jin and Jungkook to comply with his orders. 

“100 Freestyle.” the coach informed them. 

The two men glared at each other and hopped on the block. 

You thought this was probably a good way to settle things without violence.  Jungkook was the fastest on the team, and freestyle wasn’t even Jin’s stroke, so it would feel good for him to beat Jin after all that went down. 

“Ready. Set…” The coach blew the whistle to signal the start. 

Jungkook dove off the block, his arms outstretched and strong as he hit the water.  

You stood up and yelled “Gooooo Jungkook!” then motioned for the rest of the team to stand and cheer.  Most of them did, all cheering for Jungkook. 

But...the cheers started to die down on the last lap.  Because...Jungkook was losing? No.  Not good. 

Jin touched the wall about a few seconds before Jungkook, a big smirk on his face as he turned to him. 

“Better luck next time buddy.” he chuckled. 

Jungkook was in shock. He...lost, he never lost…

He hopped out of the pool fuming, stomping off to the locker room, kicking a stack of kickboards and knocking them all across the pool floor on his way in. 

You covered your mouth with your hand.  Poor Jungkook.  Your heart was breaking for your friend and you had no idea what to do. 

After practice was over you were walking out to your car and noticed that Jungkook’s car was still there.  You’d thought he left but he must still be somewhere back in the building. 

You decided to go and find him, returning back to the pool area and searching around.  Everyone else including the coach had already left, so you decided you would take a chance and check the men’s locker room. 

When you entered you heard a shower running and walked towards the sound.

You found Jungkook sitting on the grey tile floor with his back against the wall, eyes closed, letting the water fall onto his face. 

“J-Jungkook, are you okay…” You said quietly. 

He jumped, and snapped his eyes open, wiping the water out of them quickly to see you better. 

“Shit y/n you scared me.” he whispered. 

“Sorry, I just saw you were still here and wanted to check on you” you explained. 

He nodded, bending his head down and letting the water fall on the back of his neck. 

“Well, I’m fine” he spoke quietly. 

You were still wearing your suit under your clothes, so you decided to take off your sweats and jacket and sit next to him in the shower. 

“This is probably not very sanitary” you laughed as you sat down. 

“The water washes the germs away” he mumbled, his head still down on his knees. 

“I’m not sure I buy that one, but I’ll let you have it” you chuckled, leaning your head towards him and resting it on his shoulder. 

“I’m really sorry Jungkook” you got more serious. 

He lifted his head a bit, turning to look at you.  “I just don’t understand what I did wrong.  I treated her like a queen, I gave her everything.” he sighed “I haven’t seen her since the meet, but I have to swim with Jin right next to me every day now.  And hes so fucking smug about it, and now on top of everything hes somehow faster than me” Jungkook spoke with his hands emphasizing his anger. 

“He’s definitely not faster than you, I think you’re off your game a bit cuz of everything that happened.” 

“Still…” Jungkook sighed “That was embarrassing and just the icing on the cake of the worst week of my life” 

He leaned his head so it was resting against yours. 

“Hmm, I might have an idea on how to cheer you up!” you grinned, lifting your head and meeting his eyes. 

He looked confused and then suddenly he seemed to form an idea of what you might have meant. 

He brought his face close to yours, and before you could tell him that wasn’t what you meant his lips had landed on your own.  He tasted like chlorine, and his lips were so soft.  As much as you enjoyed it, you pulled back quickly. 

“I-I didn’t mean.  I wasn’t trying to say that…” you stuttered out in shock that you let that happen.  He was vulnerable right now after having his heart broken, you shouldn’t take advantage of that. 

Jungkook looked mortified, “You didn’t want me...fuck.  Y/n I’m so sorry.  I’m not thinking right” he shook his head embarrassed. 

“It’s fine Jungkook” you chuckled “It was...nice actually.  I just don’t think we should, we’re friends, and you are going through something.” 

He still looked ashamed of acting on what he assumed you had wanted “So...what did you mean?” 

“I was thinking a midnight star swim?” 

Jungkooks face lit up, “Oh my god I haven’t done that in years” 

There was an outdoor pool in your town that most of the swimmers knew how to sneak into at night.  There weren’t any cameras or security, and the fence was easy to jump.  It was up on a hill and if you went on a clear night, it had the most beautiful view of the stars.  So everyone called it a star swim. 

“I’m so down for that” Jungkook nodded excitedly.  “Oh, and thanks for not being weird about…” he trailed off looking down. 

You chuckled, “Weird about what?”  you smirked knowingly. 

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

It was about 11:30 when you pulled up to Jungkook’s house.  You hadn’t stopped thinking about the kiss since it happened.  At first you really had planned on brushing it off like nothing happened, but the memory of the feeling and taste of him wouldn’t stop pushing itself into the front of your mind. It was so persistent that you almost cancelled your plans with him, faking being sick or something like that.  But, he had thanked you for not making it weird, and that’s exactly what you’d be doing if you cancelled plans.  Just pretend it never happened. You told yourself.  Yet that seemed so impossible. 

Jungkook was skipping out to the car not long after you arrived.  He seemed to be in better spirits, which is exactly what this was for, you were quite relieved to see a smile on his face as he hopped into the passenger seat. 

“Sup Y/n” 

“Sup Jungkook” you chuckled

-----------

As was usual for star swims you parked down the road from the pool and not in the parking lot so as not to be suspicious.  The two of you walked in the dark towards your destination. 

You didn’t want to use your phone’s flashlight as you walked just in case someone saw.  As common as it was, it was not in any way legal for the two of you to be going into the pool at this hour, and you were slightly nervous about getting caught. 

But, because of the lack of light you happened to trip on a dip in the road you hadn’t noticed.  You fell forward and let out a small gasp, but before you got close to hitting the ground, two strong arms wrapped around you and caught you just in time.  Jungkook pulled you up and steadied you. 

“Woah there” Jungkook whispered. 

You awkwardly stood up straight, quite embarrassed of your clumsiness. 

“Shit, thanks…” 

“Here,” Jungkook grabbed your hand “I have good night vision, I’ll guide you” 

For some reason, the small and seemingly platonic gesture of his fingers intertwined with yours made your heart skip a beat.  The kiss popped into your mind again.  

No, he's just confused because of everything that happened with his ex, you aren’t going to let yourself just be a rebound, he’s just your friend! Your mind tried to reason with your heart.  Your heart didn’t seem to want to listen, it continued to flutter as you walked hand in hand with Jungkook the rest of the way. 

When you got to the silver chain link fence Jungkook motioned for you to go first, offering to help give you a boost up.  You declined and pulled yourself up easily,

 “You forget I’m pretty strong too Kook” You winked at him as you landed on the other side. 

There was something behind the smile and soft, admiring look he gave you through the holes in the metal fence where he now stood opposite you.  Maybe your stupid heart was making something out of nothing, but something flickered over his expression, that seemed like...nah, it couldn’t be.  

He hopped over effortlessly and landed next to you.  He almost instantly pulled his white t-shirt up and over his head. 

You’d seen him shirtless so many times at practice, but being here at night, and alone with him had you feeling slightly shy.  Trying not to look his way you decided to get undressed into your suit that was under your clothes as well. 

You cursed yourself for deciding it was a good idea to wear a skimpy bright red two piece.  You thought it would be more comfortable, but, you should’ve just worn your completely unattractive practice one piece suit.  Then you wouldn’t have to notice the way Jungkook’s eyes were bugging out of his skull upon seeing your figure.  

You noticed him bite at his lower lip and gulp, not being able to tear his eyes away from you.  

“Ready to swim?” You asked, hoping to snap him out of his trance. 

He nodded, his eyes still glued to the skin right above the fabric of your bikini top. 

You decided to take his view away, jumping into the pool quickly.  

Jungkook wasn’t far behind, taking off his shorts so he was wearing only his tight workout speedo, then doing a dive into the pool. 

You swam over to the edge of the pool, resting your arms on the side and laying out on your back to stare up at the sky.  It was peaceful and calm, the dark black sky was lit up with sparkling lights, and they reflected almost like a mirror in the water of the pool.

It was one of the most beautiful sights in the world to you.  

Jungkook slowly swam over to you, not wanting to disturb the stillness of the water and break the calm glass like reflection of the stars.  It did slightly, but it almost made it more beautiful, the ripple in reflection now looked like the stars were dancing. 

You felt Jungkook’s arm rest against your own. 

“I’m not sorry that I kissed you” he whispered, almost like it wasn’t meant for you to hear.  Yet when you snapped your gaze over to him, he was looking right at you.  Staring at your lips, his eyes full of want. 

“Jungkook...You just got out of a super long relationship that ended badly.  I don’t think you’re thinking clearly” 

Jungkook sighed. “Honestly, she was so controlling and I always just did whatever she said.  I never realized how much of my life was just me following her orders until I left her.  It’s like I didn’t fully understand everything I was missing out on in life because of her.  I’m upset, mostly because I realize how much time I’ve wasted not being with someone good and kind who actually cared about me the way I care about them…” 

Your heart was beating wildly and you had to take some deep and quiet breaths, trying to not make it noticeable to Jungkook how much he was affecting you. 

“So I think I’m actually thinking more clearly than I have in quite a long time.” He smiled at you. 

“I hope you find someone who treats you right Jungkook, you deserve it” you muttered, continuing your efforts to ignore that he was now staring over your whole body hungrily.  

“Yeah…” he murmured, “They say sometimes there’s moments in life where you realize everything you’ve been searching for has been right in front of you the whole time.  I feel like maybe I…”

You suddenly jumped out of the pool, trying to stop him before he got any further with that thought. 

You ran over to the diving board and sat on the very edge, your legs dangling off the edge. 

“Um, this way...we don’t mess up the view with our movements.” You explained your awkward and sudden escape. 

Jungkook sighed and got out of the water as well.

“Why are you avoiding me y/n.  I thought you weren’t going to make things weird after the kiss” he spoke as he started to walk over to the diving board. 

“Shit. I-I’m not trying to make things weird, it's just, I don’t want you to think…It just sounds like you think that...” 

“That you’d want to kiss me again?” his hands rested on the metal bars on either side of the board.  He was now standing right at the opposite end from where you sat. You turned around to face him, your back now to the pool with your legs still dangling off the edge.

“Exactly.” 

“And you really don’t want to?” he cocked his head to the side. 

You bit your lower lip nervously, of course you wanted to again.  Look at this gorgeous man, shirtless, muscular, and he’s almost begging for it.  But, this is your friend, you couldn’t just be his rebound.  So you regrettably settled on that as your next words.

“I’m not interested in being your rebound Jungkook” you almost snapped, realizing how harsh that came out, you added in a softer, “Sorry” 

Jungkook seemed to not have lost his determination though.  He slowly walked towards where you sat.  He teased for a second like he was going to bounce the board and make you fly off.

“Don’t you dare!” you giggled. 

Jungkook smirked, when he reached only a few steps in front of you he sat down facing you and hanging his legs off of either side of the board. 

“If we hooked up, I wouldn’t think of you as a rebound…” Jungkook said quietly.

You sighed “Ugh, Jungkook, I still think it’d be a bad idea” 

“Is it because you actually like me?” he said raising one eyebrow, “And you’re thinking ‘oh if I give into him now he’ll never be serious with me,’” he said trying to mimic your voice.  

You reached out and smacked him on his arm, “My god, you are full of yourself aren’t you” 

Jungkook let out a loud laugh and scooted forward on the bench a bit closer to you, your knees were touching now. 

“But, what if I told you that I liked you.  Like... actually liked you.  At first I thought we were just good friends...but I think I’ve felt this way since that first day of practice.  So maybe I deserved getting cheated on like that.  In a way, I was cheating in my heart by liking you the way I do.” 

You really didn’t know what to say.  

“I...don’t know if it’s quite the same thing.  I’m not really any kind of relationship expert.  But, you definitely didn’t deserve what happened to you.  That’s all I know” You said then suddenly the entirety of what he said hit you.  You wanted to just toss yourself off the edge of this board, he really just said he liked you?

“You like me?” You said with your voice wavering. 

“Ah you got that part now huh?” He chuckled. 

“Jungkook are you sure…” your eyes widened as you trailed your gaze over his sinful half naked figure sitting in front of you. 

“Quit trying to fight it y/n.  Let's just live in the moment, huh?” 

Fuck.  You really were getting mentally exhausted by trying so hard to hold back your feelings.  You liked him, a lot, maybe not right away but now? Definitely. You leaned in close to him, hoping you weren’t about to ruin everything by caving in. 

Jungkook’s mouth pulled into a smile as you inched closer to him.  

“That’s my girl” he whispered, reaching a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in closer.  His lips touched yours gentle and smooth,  the kisses he pressed into you were so innocent compared to the way his eyes had been roaming you hungrily.  

You started to speed the kisses up, running a hand through his soft locks of pitch black hair.  He groaned softly into your mouth as you touched him. 

You felt an ache in your core just from these small kisses and touches, you couldn’t tell if you were wet from swimming or from your own arousal, you were deeper into your feelings for him than you’d even realized.  

Jungkook’s hands gracefully trailed down from your head to your sides, the feeling of his fingers tracing your bare skin sent a shiver throughout your body.  You whimpered slightly when his hands reached the fabric of your bikini bottoms, he reached under your ass and pulled you up from where you sat and onto his lap. 

The board bounced up and down at the movement, causing you to bounce on Jungkook’s lap.  He grunted softly at the feeling. 

You could feel the hardness of his erection through his swim shorts, and you started to roll your hips against him, enjoying the friction and pressure that you could feel on your clit through the fabric of your suit. 

If you had any doubts about whether or not you should be doing this, the feeling of his hands starting to untie the string of your suit that was resting on your neck, had washed them all away. 

Your top fell down, exposing you to him.  He inhaled sharply and shook his head.  

“I imagined this so many times.  And you just had to go and be better than any fantasy I could’ve come up with” He said breathily. 

“You’re being cheesy” you giggled. 

“I mean it though” he smiled, giving your breasts a small squeeze. Then taking each of your nipples between the tip of his thumb and index finger, pinching them lightly.

You moaned out lewdly and tossed your head back at the pleasurable feeling. 

“Fuck” you hissed. 

“You like that baby?” Jungkook smirked, already knowing the answer to that question but wanting to hear you say it.  Needing to know how it would sound to hear unending praises fall from your lips. 

“I love it Jungkook” you gasp as he pinches you again, then brought his lips to one of your breasts, trading places with his fingers and nipping at you lightly.

“How much?” he asked, his breath warm against your tits as he spoke. 

“So much, I love it so much Jungkook, you’re amazing. I want you so badly” you admitted.  

Jungkook moaned against your skin at your words. 

“Don’t feel shy to let me know you’re enjoying yourself babe.  I wanna know how good I make you feel” he whispered, pulling himself from your chest and planting sloppy kisses on your neck. 

Jungkook started to move you off of his chest and lay you back on the diving board.  It shook up and down at the two of you moving around.  You laughed as you almost fell off at one point, Jungkook having to steady you with his hands on your hips. 

He hovered over where you laid, his hands gripping the edge of the board in a plank position, and gave you a quick peck on your lips. He then pushed himself up, standing between your legs that hung off the side of the board.  He pulled his swim shorts down quickly and stood confidently with his hands on his hips showing himself off to you with a smirk. 

You giggled wildly at his cockiness, which he mistook for you giggling at his...cock. 

“Hey now.” He growled crossing his arms against his toned bare chest. “Don’t make me bounce you off this thing” 

“Oh my god, no It’s just that you’re so cute.  Displaying yourself with that confidence” You assured him. 

“Well, I have reason to be confident no?” he moved his eyebrows up and down, and motioning his hands down around his hips, gesturing to his erection.  He wasn’t wrong...He had plenty of reason to feel proud of the cock that was hanging between his legs, long and large.  You’d never been with someone as big as him and you started to feel slight nervousness as you anticipated and hoped for the feeling of the stretch. 

Jungkook got down and balanced himself on his knees between your legs, pulling the string on one of the sides of your bikini bottoms.  

You felt the fabric being lifted away after he’d untied it, and you were completely bare and exposed to him now. 

He growled lowly.  

“Fuck you have a perfect pussy” 

“And you have a perfect cock” you returned. 

He smiled widely, you had a feeling that a strong feeling of pride grew in him at your words.  And you were right, any bit of praise that you gave him made him even more excited to dive into your pussy and feel you around him, he wanted to hear how good he made you feel. 

He gripped himself in one hand, trying his best to stay balanced as his other hand started to lightly touch your entrance. 

You gasped at his touch, and tossed your head back,  you were right on the edge of the board and the feeling that one wrong move could throw both of you off into the water was scary and exciting. 

You were seeing stars, literally as you stared up into the sky while two Jungkook’s fingers entered you, moving around and stretching you out, preparing you to take him. 

“That feels so good Jungkook” you moaned.  His ego swelled at that and it only made him want to work harder to please you, increasing the speed of his fingers. 

“Fuck” you whimpered out, gripping the sides of the board and trying not to squirm too much. 

Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out, you pouted at the feeling of emptiness and loss of his touch. 

But he was now pulling you on top of him and flipping the two of you around so he was laying in the spot where you were just seconds ago. 

The sight was nothing less than magical. 

You were sitting on top of him with your hands on his chest, the moonlight shining on his skin making him almost glow.  And framing his perfect face on every side from below was the dark water reflecting the stars from above, it looked like something straight out of an artsy indie movie.  

You lifted your hips slightly and he brought a hand to position his cock at your entrance. 

You lowered yourself down onto him excruciatingly slow, but you wanted to give yourself the chance to adjust to his thickness. 

His hands squeezed your ass tightly as you sank down onto him, and he threw his head back in pleasure, biting down hard on his lower lip. 

“Fuckkkk” he hissed once you had him completely sheathed inside your pussy. 

You started to rock your hips slowly, not wanting to move too much and bounce the two of you off and down into the water.   

But Jungkook seemed to be a bit overtaken by the feeling and started to grab your hips and lift you up, slamming you down onto him.  He set a steady pace of bringing your hips up and down onto him, and it was the most incredible feeling ever.  Every time you took him fully at that speed, the board would bounce and cause a second in and out, causing him to thrust up into you effortlessly. 

“Jungkook, oh my god” you screamed out.  Jungkook grinned widely, loving how good he was making you feel.  It felt like a dream having you here riding him. 

His hands continued to guide you up and down on his cock, the board bouncing made it hard to keep a steady pace now.  

“You gonna cum for me baby? Use my cock however you need y/n” Jungkook moaned, releasing his grip on you and putting his hands behind his head.  You swore he was flexing his biceps right now.  So cocky, you thought.  Though, you couldn’t deny, he was so fucking hot like his.  He always seemed to have the goods to back up that cocky attitude of his. 

You started to bounce and roll your hips around in small circles, it took a lot of effort to continue without having any support for your knees, you really had to thank yourself for all those ab exercises you’d been working on.  

His cock was hitting you in all the right places now and you felt yourself approaching your high.  

“J-Jungkook, I’m gonna cum” you whimpered. 

“Yeah baby? My cock is gonna make you cum?” he smirked.  

You nodded biting your lip while you stared down at the god like man below you. 

“Say it.” he growled.  

You figured it didn’t hurt to indulge him, he really was rocking your world right now. 

“Jungkook, your fucking amazing, giant, sexy, cock is gonna make my pussy cum” you moaned.

“Fuck, hurry up if you’re gonna keep talking like that” he chuckled. “I’m so fucking close too y/n” 

After a few more bounces your orgasm was on you, it ran like a tidal wave over your whole body, nothing you’d ever felt before could compare to the incredible feeling rushing over you.  

Your walls tightened and spasmed around Jungkook’s cock, you had stilled your movements and fell down onto his chest, but he kept moving himself into you quickly, approaching his own orgasm.  His hips rolling up into you were greatly assisted by the bouncing of the board.  

He gripped your ass hard and sped up even faster, his face contorting into an expression of intense pleasure. 

“F-Fuck, Y/n baby” he groaned loudly, his nails biting into your ass cheeks and his head burried into to crook of your neck as he came. 

At that moment he completely lost control of his balance, and you, who were also overcome with post orgasm bliss were in no place to steady the two of you. 

And before you knew it both of you, clutched tightly onto one another, and him still twitching and emptying hot cum inside of you, were rolling off the board and crashing into the water. 

The two of you were now completely submerged, bodies still intertwined and holding each other tightly, Jungkook brought you into a passionate kiss as you rose back up to the surface. 

Once you reached air again he slowly pulled out of you and you both laughed wildly. 

“Holy shit” you threw your head back and floated on your back savoring this blissful moment. 

You turned to Jungkook who did an excited forward somersault in the water, which caused you to laugh even more. 

“Well that's how fun that was for me” he chuckled as he paddled over to where you floated and kissed you on the cheek. 

“You’re a dork” you shook your head. 

“And amazing...giant...and sexy” he listed your previous words while he wiggled his eyebrows up and down. 

“Yes that too” 

“And completely falling for you…” he whispered. 

You stared up to the stars, you swore you saw a shooting star right then. 

You don’t know what you could possibly wish for in this moment.  Everything already felt so perfect. 

You were completely falling for him too. 

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 27)

The sky was a watercolor backdrop of searing oranges and yellows and pastel pink. Against it, holding a surfboard was a petite silhouette. “She’s too small to be any good.” Chan remarked. 

“I thought that it was the other way around, dude.” Ruon Jian shrugged. 

“Maybe if you have the right size surfboard. That one’s too big for her.”

To this Ruon had nodded in agreement. It didn’t bother Jet like it bothered the rest of the team. Chan and his girlfriend were particularly annoyed by the mistake. They could tell that she was new to the sport, unlike themselves. They have been doing it since childhood. 

Truth be told, they were afraid of her. Afraid that her mistakes would cost their team a victory that they hadn’t even had a chance to begin working towards. That first practice was a mess. Jet had watched her rather closely; every time she lost balance and every time she charged towards the wave too early or too late. She never seemed to have them timed right, could never seem to sense the water in the way a seasoned surfer would. She just didn’t have the connection. 

She took a deep breath. It was an hour and a half into a three hour long practice and she had yet to pull off even the most basic maneuver. But more than anything, Azula wanted to make her father proud. Truthfully, she had come to decide, within the first twenty minutes, that she hated surfing. It didn’t come naturally to her as volleyball did. She was furious with herself for having missed volleyball tryouts in favor of trying something new. 

She could have been on her way to becoming the star athlete of the middle school team. She could have been an hour and a half into praise and cheers. Instead her teammates were glaring at her. Even the coach’s formerly sympathetic eyes were clouding with impatience. She knew that he’d only let her on the team because of her father and his father’s legacy. 

She also knew that it was becoming abundantly clear that she didn’t share the family talent. She cast one more forlorn and longing glance at the volleyball in her sports bag before closing her eyes, readying her surfboard, and dashing towards the water. 

This time she was going to do it. She knew that she had timed the wave right. If only she had timed throwing her surfboard down correctly. Another wave took the board out from under her feet. 

No one bothered to tell her that she was supposed to go belly down and paddle out to the wave. 

Not even the coach. 

She was never one to quit. The only thing more dishonorable than a failure was a quitter. She would ride the failure out and probably with more success than riding any wave. A week into her new sport and she was only just starting to catch onto paddling out.

Azula was certain that balance wouldn’t be a problem. Toph had been kind enough to let her borrow her skateboard. The way she and Toph saw it, skateboarding was basically surfboarding without water. She did just fine maintaining her balance on the skateboard and by the end of the night she was even doing some decent tricks. 

So why the hell couldn’t she catch onto surfing?

She came to find that it was a simple as not being able to catch a wave. As simple as not knowing what to do when she finally did. She knew that once she figured out how to pop up that she would be able to stay standing and ride it out, but the waves were relentless and knocked her into the blue before she had a chance. 

Three days into week two was when she finally broke down. She was crying on Sokka’s bed about how Zuzu was mad at her for trying to one up him and how it wasn’t worth it because she wasn’t even good. How she wished she would have just gone for volleyball. 

He treated her to ice cream that she didn’t think she deserved, but Kya had insisted and Hakoda and Katara made it special.

Jet watched her cross the beach. “I’m surprised she’s even showing up still.” Chan’s girlfriend had commented. 

“I wouldn’t if I was that awful.” Ruon noted. 

“I wonder if her dad beats her for not being able to carry on the family legacy.” Jet didn’t know the girl’s name but even Chan looked at her and muttered, “too far.” Jet might have slapped her if he didn’t have a moral code. 

Azula held her head as high as she could for how many times the waves pulled it under. She had enough grace, he could see it in the way she paddled, the way she cut seamlessly through the waves. He could tell that she was getting used to timing and catching the waves. But she never managed to fully stand up and the one time she did, she hadn’t known what to do next. 

He watched her drag herself and her board back to shore. Long locks of hair hung down her back, shimmering in the setting sun. She wore a seashell bracelet around her slender wrist. Her skin was tanned nicely and her eyes reflected the sunlight so well. 

The rest of the team called her the weak link but he called her beautiful. 

The rest of the team called her the weak link but he called her untrained. 

He spent his entire weekend doing what their coach should have done. And she caught on fast. Who would have thought that actually teaching her what to do would have made such a significant difference.

When Monday came around, she walked onto the beach with a surfboard fitted to her smaller stature and a more confident stride. 

If she could have some success with a board that was not properly sized, she could do wonders with this board. 

For the first time she’d managed to catch a wave. Albeit, not on her first or even fourth try. But ten minutes in, she caught one and rode it out. Practices went that much smoother, she was beginning to learn and perform the basics. 

It wasn’t the remarkable and impressive transformation she had hoped for.

It was so ordinary. 

But it was enough to bring her from dead last to third from the bottom--and on a good night, four away from it.

The season had ended and she vowed to do volleyball next year. But the next year rolled around and her teammates were disappointed to see her dragging her board up the beach. 

A summer practicing with Jet and Sokka had done wonders. 

Chan, his now ex-girlfriend, Ruon, and the rest of the team hadn’t been there to see her practice. It was just as well. It was more satisfying. 

She went first. Her paddling was stronger, her carves smoother, her balance expectedly impeccable. She pulled off her first roundhouse cutback.

Azula was a thrill for Jet to watch, she always was. That determined and driven look and the victorious one that usually followed. They were stunning. She was stunning. Especially now that confidence was thrown into the mix. He more than admired her haughty stride back up the beach and past the rest of the team, “you’re up Chan.”

.oOo.

Azula takes Sokka’s hand and they slowly pad along the sand. He is so close to the sea that almost took him and yet he grins, wide and beaming. It is probably because he is with her. He stops to brush the hair out of her face. 

He leans in for his kiss only to get a mouthful of hair courtesy of the wind throwing it back across her face. He sweeps it aside again and this time she holds it back. 

She closes her eyes and tilts her head up, she looks serene and blissful. 

It makes him want to hurl.

Jet turns away before their lips make contact. With more force than necessary, he takes another bite of his chili dog. He doesn’t even like chili! Yet the flavor is still more pleasant than the look of Sokka locking lips with his ex.

He feels bad for feeling so appalled considering how much less tense she is, but it hits him quite mercilessly that he could have never made her feel that way. If only he’d met her first. If only he had been the childhood friend. 

If only he’d asked her for a date when he’d first had the urge. That day when he saw her silhouetted against the sunset with a surfboard in hand. 

Maybe if he’d held her a little closer when teaching her to balance. Maybe if he’d cheered her on a little more, she would have asked him. 

Maybe he would be walking down the beach with her. Instead he finds himself furious. After everything he’d done for her, she’d snub him like this? It was he who helped her work from no skill whatsoever to the surfer that the rest of the team strived to be. 

He helped get her through the past few months of summer and now she was ignoring him more or less completely.

“Still brooding?” Katara asks. 

He takes another angry munch of his chili dog. 

“Why are you watching them make out if it makes you angry?”

He thinks that maybe he wants to be angry because that is better than feeling let down, used, and miserable. “Maybe if I watch hard enough, she’ll see my charm and makeout with me instead.” He mutters.

“Ew.” Zuko grumbles. Apparently the concept of it is enough to drive him right back to the smoothie bar. Granted, he makes a similar face when he gets within sound range of the couple. Jet swears that if Sokka had the strength, he would quite literally lift her off of her feet. 

Thankfully he is still too weary for that and has to settle for a careful hug. “I’m going to go share a smoothie with Zuko, you want anything?” Katara offers.

He shakes his head. 

“You sure? We’re going to be heading back tomorrow, so now’s your last chance to have one.” 

“I’m sure.” 

He hears that light and warm laugh and frowns deeper. He wants to be happy for Azula, he truly does. But he can’t force happiness. He hears the shifting of sand and a shadow falls over him. 

“Exactly how long do you plan on staring at my daughter for?” 

Jet tenses up. He gives his body enough slack to muster up a single shrug. “Until she stops being so annoyingly beautiful, I guess.” He, to Ozai’s dissatisfaction, slips up. 

“If that is the only reason you are upset to have lost her, than you didn’t deserve her.” 

He wonders how many times Sokka was told that he wasn’t good enough for Azula, if he had been told at all. “It isn’t. It’s just the easiest reason to explain.” 

When the girl’s father doesn’t respond, he continues. “She’s talented and clever. She’s…” his mind wanders back to the stormy beach. “Strong and determined. I think that she might be unstoppable…”

Ozai nods. “Even so. You knew what this trip was about when you stepped aboard the ship. It is not her fault that you were not prepared for the outcome.” He pauses and clasps his hands behind his back, fixing Jet with a stern look. “If you trouble her over her decision, I assure you that there will be a free spot on your surf team.”

Jet suppresses a scowl. The old man did more to hurt his daughter than Jet himself could ever hope to do and he had half the mind to inform him of such. He curbs his tongue. “I don’t want to hurt her.” But he wishes that she wouldn’t hurt him. “Should I talk to her?”

Ozai shakes his head. “Unless it is about surfing or another mundane topic. She will speak to you about it when she is ready.”

Jet sighs and rests his chin in his hands as Ozai makes his way towards the smoothie bar. He feels as out of place as Azula must have while carrying a surfboard much too large for her. He doesn’t belong on this trip. With this family. 

Azula leads Sokka back to their beach towel and, in the shade of their umbrella, begins unpacking lunch. It probably has all of Sokka’s favorites. 

He hears the sand sift again and the clunk of a glass on the wooden table. “There’s a shot of rum in yours. Don’t you dare mention it to anyone on this beach.” 

Jet takes his beverage and sipis it. “And yours.”

Ozai holds out his receipt. There is only one alcoholic drink and Jet can taste the rum on his. 

“You could use a drink, boy.”

Azula settles into Sokka’s arms and Jet can’t disagree. 

[bigmacdaddio]

The Black Man Who Invented Nebraska Football:

Before the opening weekend of the Big Ten football season, the conference sent a press release outlining the ways each school would support the league’s “United as One” social justice campaign. Many of those efforts involved stickers, logos, T-shirts, and other ways of distributing messages such as “End Racism” and “Equality.” But it was the University of Nebraska, alone among Big Ten teams, that made a nod to history, using a helmet sticker to pay tribute to the school’s first Black football player, George Flippin.

As it turns out, Flippin’s story resonates far beyond Nebraska, illuminating racial dynamics within college football and American culture more broadly. It also raises the thorny question of what we should remember when we look at the past. For Nebraska, the choice to honor Flippin was a gesture of unity in the midst of racial unrest. “In a lot of ways I think society should mirror locker rooms when you have good cultures built,” Nebraska coach Scott Frost remarkedwhen asked about the tribute to Flippin. The reality of Flippin’s time at Nebraska, however, suggests that any celebration needs to be coupled with a reckoning.

Flippin was born in Ohio three years after the end of the Civil War, eventually moving to Kansas and then Nebraska. He arrived at the state university in 1891, a few months after the school organized its first football team. By the fall of that year, Flippin had been recruited to join the squad, and he saw his first live action against Iowa on Thanksgiving weekend. It was the fifth game in Nebraska’s history and the first against an out-of-state opponent.

Nebraska (or the “Old Gold Knights” as they were known that year) lost that day, but Flippin caught the eye of the victors. “For Nebraska,” the Iowa student newspaper declared, “Flippin, the colored left half back, undoubtedly did the best work.”

What that statement lacks in detail it makes up for in significance. At the very beginning of Nebraska’s football history, the player carrying the banner for the state was a Black man. While there were a handful of other Black athletes at predominantly white colleges at the time—George Jewett at Michigan, William Henry Lewis at Harvard—Flippin was the only one building a football tradition from the ground up.

Over the next three seasons, Flippin continued to lead the way. The Illinois student newspaper recognized him as Nebraska’s “star.” A Kansas newspaper declared that he “had no rival in the West.” And reports out of Colorado said that Flippin “gave Denver more trouble” than anyone on Nebraska’s team because of his “weight, strength, and good playing.”

While Flippin did sometimes draw praise from Nebraska’s opponents, they didn’t typically react with the same levity. One commented on Flippin’s “peculiar and perhaps natural habit of butting his opponent with his head” while another castigated him as “an exceedingly brutal player.”

From Nebraska’s perspective, Flippin was simply giving out what he was getting. Game recaps told of Flippin being “kicked, slugged, and jumped on.” He was targeted, no doubt, because of his talent—but also, like numerous “racial pioneers” at predominantly white schools, because of his race.

Some teams used another method to counter Flippin’s greatness: They refused to play against him.

Missouri took this approach in 1892, forfeiting its matchup with Nebraska. The Nebraska student newspaper rushed to Flippin’s defense, framing Missouri’s boycott as a lingering effect of the Civil War. “Our team is truly representative, both of our principles and our members,” the editor declared. As for Missouri: “They believe what their [pro-Confederate] fathers believed. If they do what their fathers did, they will have to be whipped as their fathers were whipped.”

By embracing Flippin, Nebraska was claiming racial inclusion as part of its identity. But framing the Missouri-Nebraska divide in Civil War terms concealed the reality of American life in the late 19th century. It was not just Southern and border states like Missouri that were implementing Jim Crow laws. With the Plessy v. Ferguson ruling in 1896, the Supreme Court of the United States sanctioned this reassertion of white supremacy across the United States.

After a game in Denver, Flippin was denied entrance to an opera house. In Omaha, a hotel set up a private dining room for Flippin and his teammates rather than allowing him to eat in a public space. And in Lincoln—a community that praised itself for supporting a Black man’s exploits on the football field—Flippin sued a bathhouse for refusing to admit him on account of his race. That suit was unsuccessful.

Flippin understood the bind that Black people faced in America. “Whenever he demands the rights of citizenship he is accused of self-seeking,” he declared in a speech. The fact that Flippin sued a business that had discriminated against him makes his willingness to fight against racial discrimination very clear. But he also saw the limits of what he could hope to achieve. So Flippin continued to take the football field, representing a state and school that did not always support him.

After the 1894 season, Flippin’s teammates voted 8–7 to have him serve as the captain of the next year’s team. A backlash ensued immediately. Newspaper reports claimed the result was an accident, the product of political maneuvers by rival fraternities. They declared, too, that several Nebraska players would decline to take the field if Flippin retained his title.

This opposition to Flippin’s captaincy was not universal. Eight teammates had voted for Flippin, after all, and the Omaha World-Herald published an editorial on his behalf, arguing that football should be a democratic game, open to all. “If he were white, the university and the whole west would be so proud of him that he would be dressed in purple and carried on a floral wreath,” the editor of a Kansas newspaper wrote.

Despite this support, the tide was turning against Flippin in Nebraska. His physical play had endeared him to fans in the past; now it became an excuse to deny him the captaincy. A Lincoln newspaper reported that students feared Flippin’s penchant for “brutality” would lead him to “inculcate that kind of playing if he is permitted to captain the team.” Nebraska’s head coach, Frank Crawford, further denigrated his best player. “It takes a man with brains to be a captain: all there is to Flippin is brute force,” he said before predicting that Flippin would be forced to relinquish the title of captain.

There was no public announcement that Flippin had been stripped of his captaincy. But by the time the 1895 season began, he’d moved on from Nebraska, even as the new narrative about him remained. “He takes into the game no brains or skill,” the Nebraska student newspaper remarked in 1897, before describing the former star as “a disgrace to the college game.”

By that time, Flippin was attending medical school in Chicago, playing football to cover his educational costs. After completing school and becoming a doctor, Flippin made his way back to Nebraska, serving the Stromsburg community, about 60 miles west of Lincoln, until he died in 1929.

Upon his death, Nebraska fans rewrote history, eliding the fact that Flippin had been disrespected, discriminated against, and run out of town. A World-Herald sportswriter memorialized Flippin as “the charging bull, into which was bred the tenacity of the bulldog, the ferocity of the tiger, the gameness of the man who knows no fear.” Left unsaid was the fact that Black athletes were no longer allowed to compete for Nebraska. In 1892, Nebraska students had marveled that Missouri would defend the idea of racial segregation in a “progressive age.” By the 1910s, they had joined Missouri’s side, drawing a color line that would remain in place until after World War II.

As the Cornhuskers honor George Flippin in 2020, it’s the full scope of his experience that must be remembered. We should celebrate that Flippin integrated the football team and helped launch the program. We should also dwell on the fact that he was rejected by the predominantly white school and state he represented—as were generations of Black athletes after him, including some today who have said that their full humanity is not always valued.

To truly remember George Flippin, then, is to confront the reality of what America was and continues to be. A helmet sticker can remind us of a name from the past. It can’t force us to right the wrongs of history, or to do the work we need to do to examine our actions in the present day.

[virtchandmoir]

Special Olympics touch many lives

February 29, 2020

Canadian athletes Jennifer Jones, Catriona Le May Doan, Mark Tewksbury and Scott Moir mingle with Special Olympic athletes in Thunder Bay this week.

Decorated Olympic swimmer Mark Tewksbury left Thunder Bay this week inspired by the spirit of the Special Olympics Canada Winter Games.

As a member of the Board of Directors for Special Olympics Canada, Tewksbury was in the city to cheer on the participants.

But the experience took on a deeper meaning for him, hitting close to home.

“I know how it feels to be part of a community that’s sometimes excluded,” he says, describing how he ended up coming out as a gay man.

Tewksbury found solace in sport, which he says helped him to overcome challenges, to build self-confidence and to find lasting friendships.

“In these Special Olympics we see athletes experiencing the same thing,” he figures. “I felt like I had an affinity for the Special Olympics.”

Spectators crowded the various venues to encourage and congratulate the competitors from across Canada.

“The whole community has really embraced the Games and athletes and family,” says former Olympic speedskater Catriona Le May Doan, who joined Tewksbury in the same capacity.

“I was here for a board meeting and to see all the athletes and sponsors,” she explains.

The national event impressed Le May Doan and others she encountered.

“I’m hearing praise after praise about how the Games were run, the food, the welcome and the continuous excitement,” she says. “(The organizers and volunteers) have done an amazing job.”

She found the experience endearing.

“It’s inspiring every time to see them (the participants) compete,” says the accomplished athlete. “The first thing they do, regardless of results, is hug each other. The camaraderie and spirit is something we could continuously learn from and be inspired by these athletes.”

Le May Doan said the Special Olympics in Thunder Bay has exceeded expectations.

“People are sometimes surprised by the high level of competition,” she says. “It’s about inclusion and also about sport and pushing your limits.”

Curling star Jennifer Jones and retired Olympic ice dance champion Scott Moir were also on hand in Thunder Bay this week.

Moir, who along with Tessa Virtue formed one of Canada’s most famous Olympic duos, addressed the crowd at the opening ceremony of the figure skating competition on Thursday at the Tournament Centre.

He is part of the Champions Network, a group of Olympians, who support Special Olympics athletes. Moir took close to 30 athletes on tour to perform in a show.

“It’s a huge boost for so many of these athletes,” he says. “It’s uplifting. It’s been emotional. It’s one of the special moments of my life.”

In his speech, Moir acknowledged the dedication of coaches, whose talents have contributed to a dream taking shape.

“They’ve all taken time out of their lives to support your dream,” he said in his speech. “You are truly an inspiration to all of us in the skating world.”

Moir was also moved by the spirit of the Special Olympics.

“It’s done more on a pure level,” he says. “It’s sport done for the right reason. When the athletes walked in during the opening ceremonies, they were exuberant. There was overwhelming joy.”

During the torch run and the lighting of the cauldron, he says this feeling was inescapable, bringing to mind the Special Olympics anthem, encouraging participants to be happy to be part of the experience and to be happy with each other.

Moir recognizes how difficult it is to compete at a high level.

“We were blessed to have a long career,” he says. “A lot of the athletes wait years to get a shot at the Special Olympics.”

“For a lot of them, it’s the end of a long journey — a lot of perseverance,” he says. “It started out as a dream — competing at a national level — coming to fruition.”

John Van Lierop of London, Ont., is one of the many faces behind the scenes who have helped make the competitors’ dreams possible.

He volunteered as a lap counter at the speedskating venue.

Certified with Level 3 qualifications through the Ontario Speedskating Association, he has volunteered over the past 22 years at three regionals, one provincials (in Thunder Bay in 2011) and most recently, at one nationals.

“Thunder Bay is very welcoming and warm, compared to the last time we were here (in 2011) — in minus 40 degrees (Celsius),” he chuckles.

Sporting a hat full of collectable pins, Van Lierop was an unmistakable figure at Delaney Arena. He says he has 300 pins in his collection and treasures a Thunder Bay police pin he got at the 2020 Special Olympics and one from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police from the 2011 Games.

“There’s more crowd participation,” he says. “It’s hard to hear. The stands were full. The enthusiasm from the crowd — you can feel it going towards the athletes. The fans are cheering everyone.”

Volunteer Diane Imrie, who was co-manager of figure skating, drafted Team Ontario figure skater, Katie Xu, of Stittsville, Ont., along with several of her friends in a club they call the “Birthday Club”.

It was part of the Draft an Athlete program.

Imrie, who is also the executive director of the Northwestern Ontario Sports Hall of Fame, was delighted to be able to see her athlete compete.

“It was serendipitous that I was a volunteer with figure skating and it happened to be the sport our athlete was drafted from,” she says. “We were able to meet when she took the athletes’ oath at the figure skating opening ceremony, which was really special.”

—The Chronicle Journal

[jamesrodriguez]

James, el ídolo. (written by Semana)

Today I will talk about James Rodríguez. Not from football, but from what his rebirth in Europe means. James returned to shine on the English courts when some began to lose faith in him and others bet on his resounding and definitive failure. After the world press praised him for his talent and intelligence in the playing area, in recent times everything was heard: that he was a fraud, that he had no discipline or psychological maturity, that he was a "bad head", that his talent was not enough compared to that of other figures in European football. None of that was true. Real Madrid's James was always the same as we see today triumphing at Everton: bold and effective on the pitch, and very charismatic. 

The problem wasn't James. The problem was Zinedine Zidane. A headstrong technician who caught him between his eyes. Don't tell me stories. Fortunately, I am a fan and not a sports commentator, so I ask you for permission to tell you that I am convinced that Zidane did not want James. That's why he despised him, mistreated him, isolated him, and really wanted to finish him. Fortunately he did not succeed. Hopefully one day we would know if something personal really happened between James and Zidane. Others simply remove any responsibility from the Real manager saying that James' misfortune was only the result of competition. The successful arrival of James to the English team shows that despite the difficulties, his talent and his angel remain intact. 

James is a star, he is a crack. He embodies the dreams come true of any ordinary child from a provincial neighborhood in Colombia. James, the idol of so many infants and teenagers, is himself a fairy tale. It is freehand. His sacrifice and that of his family, especially that of his mother Pilar, allowed him to reach the peak of success. James is also a good boy and a good family member. Even his separation from the model Daniela Ospina was on good terms and, judging by the images on his social networks, he is still a loving father with his daughter Salomé and very cuddly with his little Samuel. James is a great example of self-improvement. I met him more than a year ago and he seemed affable, respectful and simple, despite being the figure that he is. I was delighted to see him so warm with the children. 

James is one of those figures who always represent Colombia well no matter what, such as Caterine Ibargüen, Nairo Quintana, Egan Bernal and many more of our dedicated and successful athletes. I still remember the tremendous image of James Rodríguez's presentation at the Santiago Bernabéu in Madrid. The fiery rostrum shouted his name. It was July 2014 when he arrived at Real, after his brilliant performance with the Colombia team at the World Cup in Brazil.

The fans were devastated by the bad news of Falcao's absence, but James returned our joy with his left foot. We could dream. Let's not forget that soccer is the only thing that unites Colombians. Millions of fans celebrate his goals, powerful and beautiful, to tears. I thank him for all the emotions he has given us by running after the ball to get it into the opponent's goal. Carlo Ancelotti has been his guardian angel. He took him to Real, to Bayern, and brought him out of Zidane's hell to give him glory at Everton. 

James was in serious trouble for a long time. His future was uncertain. While his pass rapidly lost value, his fate was in the hands of the Frenchman who seemed more his worst enemy than his coach. Zidane had completely overshadowed him. With him he lived a real nightmare that lasted years. How can we forget the great James watching his team, Real, play from the stands like any fan. A real humiliation that led him to ask not to be summoned; a desperate measure. 

James's story should inspire us all. It is always possible to overcome the worst moments, as long as there is work, determination, persistence and a lot of talent. James is an idol and knows the honeys of triumph: those days when everyone around him has been supposedly unconditional. But he also knows the loneliness of those moments when so many turned their backs on him. Fortunately, James will continue with his wide smile giving us his goals for many more years and shining with his own light. Nobody turns that off. And Zidane who suffers, because the goals will be for Everton and not for Real.

[kieranmorozov]

⋆ ° ⟡ ( BEN BARNES, THIRTY-THREE, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ) I SAW KIERAN MOROZOV AT THE WINTER PALACE. DID YOU KNOW THAT THEFORMER OLYMPIAN/COAH IS ORIGINALLY FROM ENGLAND/BELARUS ? I HEARD THEY CAN BE QUITECAUSTIC, BUT ALSOMETICULOUS. THERE’S RUMOURS THEY’RE AT THE WINTER PALACE BECAUSEHE’S HOPING TO RUB SHOULDERS WITH NOBILITY, BUT YOU NEVER KNOW.WISPS OF BREATH FADING INTO A COLD NIGHT, MIRRORED SUNGLASSES THAT HIDE WHAT’S BEHIND THEM, AND A SIP OF COLD WATER AFTER EATING PEPPERMINT ALWAYS REMINDS ME OF THEM.

( POSSUM, 25+, EST, SHE/HER)

i tried to keep this as short as possible but lbr, you’re probably just skimming, right? if there’s anything you want to know about him just ask.

*TW: death, physical abuse, mental abuse, food mention.

born in belarus to a russian father and a british mother who met while his mother was a student traveling through europe. they did not stay together, hence his dual citizenship in both belarus and the UK. he was carted back and forth between countries. belarus in fall and winter, england in the spring and summer, before being kept in belarus by his father full time as his talent for skating took off. 

his father died in a motorcycle accident when kieran was twelve, and he was sent to live with his mother for a few months before his coach in belarus urged his mother to send him back to continue with his skating. she was always very absent with kieran in general, but with declining health issues, she obliged and sent kieran to go live with his coach to continue training and skating. his mother died of cancer a year afterwards. 

kieran’s coach became his guardian, and with both parental figures out of the picture, the sport he loved became something he feared. routines done well during his practices were praised beyond belief, but the smallest of faults in his skating resulted in swift smacks to the temple, among other forms of violence that worsened over time. when physical punishments weren’t getting the point across, meals were withheld. it was a brutal way of living, but he did not know any other. his coach had always been more of a father figure to kieran than his actual father, so the need to gain his acceptance was high. to this day kieran will claim the harsh conditions made him the skater he is, oblivious to how wrong of a statement that sounds. 

kieran’s style of skating, which held a similar passion to an animal fighting for its life, was both raw, highly athletic, and technical, and caught the attention of judges and scouts. one of whom took kieran away from his previous coach to skate for britain once kieran was old enough to realize the situation he was in, and free from the legal obligations of a guardian.

his attitude remained despite being in greener pastures, and it didn’t take long for him to be considered the “bad boy” of the skating world, and was one of the few figure skaters heavily publicized enough to become a household name.

was a solo skater for a while and had silver medal success with that, but it was his personal life, not his skill, that always docked him points---regardless of whether or not the judges would admit that. he was matched up with different partners, but they never quite worked out, mainly because of dueling personalities. the only partner he has ever skated with with success was piper.  

after some years and a blow up between kieran and piper resulting in their breakup later, kieran was back to performing solo with mild success. unwilling to wait for his career to fizzle out, he took his solo silver and bronze medals and fucked off back to belarus to train olympic hopefuls.

as a coach he is known for the brutal regimens he places his athletes on . (still nowhere near the type of brutality he faced when he was their age), and the success that it has had for the country. his students are known to be ruthless, highly skilled, and major competitors.

so why tf is this boi here???? he is in genovia accompanying his athletes, and also with low key hopes of meeting a certain genovian princess that is in need of courting....

shoot your shot, right?

     THATS IT

also

i don’t watch anime or figure skating (unless it’s 4am and i’m on youtube) but in my head i picture this being the type of shit he’d do mostly because i can’t find any real life ones that match this energy lmaooo

he’s an aries sun, scorpio moon so this dude can be mEAN, but within those many many many many walls is a soft center. he knows it’s there, too, but he hasn’t let anyone else get close in a really long time.

this meme sums him up:

ty if you made it this far. let’s plot!

[jrgsportsbuzz]

WISCONSIN'S MVP QUARTET

Fans of Wisconsin sports teams produce a mixed bag of reactions when asked about how it feels to be said fan. Some point to the overall success of the teams while others are somewhat down about the lack of championships.

However, no one can deny the talent of the athletes the state’s sports fans have the privilege of witnessing. The four players who have taken home their sport’s top honors represent a perfect mix of the past, present and future.

The Milwaukee Brewers and Green Bay Packers have three players between the two teams that have won Most Valuable Player awards in Major League Baseball (MLB) and the National Football League (NFL), respectively. Brewers outfielders Ryan Braun and Christian Yelich won the National League (NL) MVP in 2011 and 2018 and Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers took home the NFL’s top hardware in 2011 and 2014.

Now, the Milwaukee Bucks have joined the fray, as forward Giannis Antetokounmpo is the National Basketball Association’s MVP for 2019. Giannis is the Bucks’ first MVP since Hall of Fame center Kareem Abdul-Jabbar won the award as a member of the team in 1971, 1972 and 1974. The long and uber-athletic Giannis led Milwaukee to its best season since 1980-81 this past year, finishing with a scoring average above 25 points per game, rebounding average above 10 per game and an assist average above five. He has improved in each of his six seasons in the NBA and has established himself as one of the league’s icons. The Bucks’ lethal transition offense ran through Antetokounmpo, as he was the league’s top paint scorer by virtue of many easy layups and dunks on the fast break. Giannis still needs to improve his jump shot, but the increased team production from beyond the 3-point line allowed him to remain one of the NBA’s elite despite his shaky jumper. Giannis brought the NBA’s top player award back to Milwaukee for the first time in 45 years and, at age 24, could bring it home on a few more occasions throughout his career.

Braun and Rodgers are seasoned veterans who have been entertaining fans of Wisconsin sports for just over a decade now, while Yelich and Giannis are young phenoms who could provide similar excitement for years to come.

Yelich broke through in his first season in Milwaukee in 2018. The right fielder was a solid hitter through the first half of the season, but was otherworldly following the All-Star break and has continued that amazing hitting into 2019. He spearheaded the Brewers’ hot stretch during the final month and a half of 2018 that earned the team its first playoff berth since 2011 (Braun’s MVP year). That torrid second half allowed Yelich to beat out Chicago Cubs’ infielder Javier Baez for the NL’s top honor. Yelich is also putting up one of the best seasons in Brewers’ history in 2019 and could be well on his way to winning another MVP.

Rodgers has consistently been one of the NFL’s top quarterbacks throughout this decade, with many arguing for him being the best. He is one of the league’s craftiest field generals and has always been the league’s best at avoiding mistakes and turnovers. He won the MVP award in 2011 after leading the Packers to a 15-1 season following a Super Bowl XLV victory over the Pittsburgh Steelers the previous season, in which he was named MVP of the game. Rodgers then won his second MVP three years later in 2014 during a season that ended in a fashion that Packers fans need not rehash. Despite the declining talent around him, Rodgers has remained one of the top signal-callers in football and has been the main reason for the Packers’ success during this decade.

Braun’s MVP award in 2011 was the most controversial, as many around baseball, including some Brewers fans, do not believe he was deserving of the award because of steroid use. However, on stats and success of his team, Braun’s case was as strong, if not stronger, than anyone else in the NL that season. Braun, while not being what he once was, still is a productive outfielder for Milwaukee and is a great complementary piece for Yelich and center fielder Lorenzo Cain. Those three, along with utility outfielder Ben Gamel, combine to give the Brewers one of the best groups of outfielders in the league.

A lot of fans and followers of Wisconsin professional sports praise the success of the teams but are critical of the fact that they only have one championship while having these special athletes (Packers SBXLV win).

The Packers have been the most criticized because of their many playoff appearances with Rodgers at the controls and only one championship to show for it. The team has been to two NFC championship games since, including the 2017 blowout loss to the Atlanta Falcons and the appearance two years prior. Green Bay has fallen on hard times since that 2017 loss, having not made the playoffs the past two seasons and firing coach Mike McCarthy, who was the head man during the Super Bowl victory.

The Bucks’ rebuild finally culminated in a successful year in 2018-19, but fans waited 18 painstaking years for the team to advance past the first round of the playoffs before their Eastern Conference Finals appearance this past season. Milwaukee was one of the league’s most downtrodden franchises during most of the 2000s and the first half of this decade, as they were consistently mediocre at best during the latter part of previous owner Herb Kohl’s tenure. The team’s rebuild and new arena are a function of shrewd management and ownership under New York hedge fund investors Marc Lasry and Wes Edens.

The Brewers have been a struggling franchise throughout the majority of their existence (first season was 1969 as the Seattle Pilots, moved to Milwaukee and became the Brewers in 1970). However, the general manager and manager pair of David Stearns and Craig Counsell, respectively, have turned the franchise into a winner for the time being. Acquiring Yelich and Cain before last season turned a talented, up-and-coming team into a World Series contender, but the Brewers are one of the smallest markets in baseball. They will likely need to win a title with a lot of their current group, or could face another painful rebuilding process.

Despite the lack of trophies, most fans do appreciate the talent of the star athletes of the Wisconsin teams. Wisconsin fans are very lucky to have some of the country’s premier sports stars suiting up for their home franchises.

Giannis could be the most gifted player the Bucks have ever had and he has become the cornerstone of the franchise at age 24. He went from being a thin, raw rookie in 2013 to one of the NBA’s dominant forces and was one of the best NBA Draft steals of all time. Much of the newfound excitement for a once-moribund franchise can be attributed to the player known as “The Greek Freak”.

The Brewers acquired Yelich in a trade with the Miami Marlins for four minor league prospects in January 2018, one day before signing Cain to a 5-year, $80 million deal. Yelich was always a solid player in Miami and continued that in Milwaukee en route to his first All-Star appearance last season. However, he became inarguably the best hitter in baseball during the latter two-plus months of 2018 and will be the main piece of the Brewers’ lineup for years to come thanks to his team-friendly contract that doesn’t expire until 2023.

Rodgers has spent many years as one of the NFL’s top quarterbacks and, at age 35, can be considered a legend. He took the reins from Hall of Fame signal-caller Brett Favre in 2008 and has continued the Packers’ legacy of outstanding passers. Rodgers has been at the controls of offenses that consistently rank among the NFL’s best during his time as the Packers’ quarterback and has shown an ability to make a good receiver out of almost anyone. He has shown some signs of slowing down later in his career, but he still can produce better than most at his position.

Braun came up as a hitting prodigy in 2007 and has remained a solid piece of the Brewers’ lineup despite no longer being one of the league’s stars. He likely will remain with the team throughout the rest of his career and is one of the team’s all-time leaders in nearly every hitting category. His leadership was invaluable during the Brewers’ late-season push in 2018 and continues to be during this current renaissance of the franchise.

The presence of Yelich, Braun, Giannis and Rodgers have generated much excitement for Wisconsin sports during their tenures here. With their presence has come success, though not as much as some people have hoped for. However, these four are special talents who have been linchpins for their teams for a long time (Braun, Rodgers) and provide excitement for the future (Yelich, Giannis).