#like he scores the winning goal and rip his leg

[queenofallimagines]

This smells like a Chigiri prompt don’t it??👀 or at the very least Rin

[theemporium]

hiiii!! could i please order a smutberry with prompts 32 and 40 with luke hughes?? 💕💕

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

40. “Go on. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

.

Luke Hughes never considered himself an overly cocky or arrogant guy.

Maybe it was down to the way he was raised growing up, or maybe it was more related to the fact that it just never really fit his personality. He was confident, no doubt. But it was never too in your face, never too over the top. It wasn’t his style. It wasn’t who he was. 

But sometimes—just sometimes—there were certain situations where Luke found himself acting a bit…douchey, for lack of a better word.

It was warranted. It was always warranted. And this time was no different as he stepped off the ice, buzzing on a high that the final game buzzer left ringing through his bones. He felt like he could jump over the fucking moon if someone gave him the chance. And the energy in the locker room was no different. 

It was no secret that there had been a lot of slack and doubt thrown at the Devils for drafting him. Most of them claimed he was only chosen for his name, for his brothers’ talents rather than his own skills. Most of them said he was a bust, a flop choice, and a variety of other names that left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

But he had been on fire for the last few games. Absolutely killing it. And it all lead to tonight’s game, a multi-point game that ended with Luke scoring the goal that secured the Devils the win to keep their streak going. 

And he was fucking buzzing out of his skin. 

The thrill of the win and satisfaction of proving those haters wrong morphed into something cockier, something that settled in the pit of his stomach and left him wanting more than slaps on his back or beers at a bar or praise from the media. 

He wanted something much more fulfilling than all of that.

“Fuck,” Luke groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as you sunk down onto his cock. “Atta girl, babe.” 

You let out a choked gasp as he bottomed out inside you, your chest heaving and your legs already shaking. You were straddling his lap, your legs spread and your wet thighs already exposing just how much he had been teasing you since he arrived home, since he practically ripped your clothes off and bent you over the back of the couch before devouring you from behind. 

He was on a high and he wanted to keep his good mood going. 

It just seemed that was at the expense of your brain because you were pretty sure he wasn’t stopping until he had fucked you dumb—not that you had any issues with that.

“Shitshitshitshit,” you whined, your nails digging into his shoulders and your head dropping to his chest. “Fuck, feel so big.” 

“Yeah?” You could hear the cockiness in his voice, his hands soothing up and down your thighs. “God, baby, look at you. Fucking wrecked and I’ve not even done anything.” 

“Luke,” you breathed out, your cheeks flushed and your eyes glossy as you looked up at him. “Please.” 

“Nuh uh, baby,” he cooed as his hands cupped your face, tucking your hair behind your ears. “I’m the man of the night. You said so yourself, said you wanted to reward me.”

You tucked your lip between your teeth, the memory of your messages to him after the game flashing to the front of your mind. 

“Go on. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Luke grinned, leaning back against the headboard and giving your ass an encouraging slap. “Wanna see my pretty girl bouncing on my dick, see you fuck yourself dumb until you’re begging me to take over.”

.

[sturniololoco]

hiii <3 could you do a little sister fic where she plays hockey and gets into a fight with a player from the other team? Just go from there ig 😭

Mad

Warnings: blood, cussing, crying, etc.

A/N: Kinda a true story, but mine happened in a soccer game lol, it's also rly short and prob rly bad lol

SLS/N’s POV

I know I’m not supposed to let my hair fall out of my helmet, especially when you're playing in a girl's hockey league, but my low bun fell out and I was in the middle of a game so I couldn’t fix it.

The score was tied and there wasn’t much time left on the clock, but I was skating faster than I ever had.

I hear the puck being sent my way by one of my brothers, and I quickly snatch it before I can get bodied by the girl on the other team.

Just as I reached my stick back to slap the puck into the goal, I felt myself fly back, head first, a burning sensation on my scalp.

I was being pulled back by my hair, getting whipped around to the point wear I fell and skidded into the wall.

The girl looked at me with a smirk before skating off, slowly.

I hated the way she looked at me, it made my blood boil and my heart race.

Ignoring the pain in my hip, I stood, then skated as fast as I could to her.

Next thing I know, I'm fully tackling her onto the ice, and that's all I was gonna do until she punched me,

Right in the damn nose.

Blood poured down my front and all over the girl, until it eventually reached the ice. My eyes were watering like crazy, but I ignored the pain and focused my enraged thoughts on the girl I was practically straddling.

Just as I was about to pound her into the ice, I felt arms around my torso, pulling me off.

I fought against them, wanting to get back at the girl who ruined my game, but I stopped once I heard the ref.

"You need to stop or your team will be disqualified."

I quickly shoved the person's arms off of me and then skated to the penalty box.

I got inside and slammed my halpet against the glass, feeling all my anger and the pain in my face hit me at once.

-

Before I knew it, the buzzer was going off, right after the other team scored the winning point.

I don't bother going into the locker room. Instead, I go to the lobby of the complex, taking my gear off while I wait with my brothers.

As people passed me on their way out, they gave me dirty looks, especially the moms on the other team.

I just sat there, blood pooling out of my face, glaring right back at them.

Until the girl that started this walked passed.

Next thing I know, I'm behind her, ripping her braided ponytail.

Just as she was about to retaliate, Nick, my brother, got between us while I felt Matt and Chris hold my arms back, keeping me from tearing this girl to shreds.

They bring me back to the bench and sit me down as Nick apologizes to the girl's mom.

As he turns around, he looks at me, a disappointed look on his face.

I slouch against the wall behind me, crossing my arms over my chest as I roll my eyes, not making eye contact with any of my brothers.

-

We silently got to the car, me aggressively chucking my gear in the back before climbing in the backseat and leaning my head against the car window.

"SLS/N, we need to stop the blood," Nick says, handing me a t-shirt that he found in the back of the car.

I take it from him and wipe my nose, feeling the bruising start to form underneath the red coating my face.

As Matt begins to drive, I feel the emotion and pain well up in my eyes so fast, I don't have time to stop it.

As I cried, I let out a frustrated groan, hitting my fist into my thigh, as it was the only thing in the car to punch.

"Don't do that! I know you're mad, but don't hurt yourself." Nick says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him.

As I lean into his side, he takes the t-shirt from my hand, helping me wipe most of the blood from my face.

"These are just angry tears," I say to the car.

Matt laughs and reaches back behind his seat, finding my leg, and then giving it a little pat.

"We need to find a way to get all that anger out of you kid, you got way too much of it." Chris sighs, shaking his head.

This makes the car laugh, and I even manage to smile through the pain in my face.

I was happy that they weren't mad at me.

-

"Matt!" I yell from my spot on the couch, head in Chris's lap.

"I need some ice, please!" I yell again.

I hear a plastic bag being opened, then the sound of the ice maker.

Matt comes in and hands me the bag of ice, now wrapped in a kitchen towel.

Chris quickly takes it from my hand and gently places it under my eye where most of the bruising was, holding it for me.

As Matt sits down by my feet, Nick comes in, making me sit up and take an Advil, and chug a bottle of water.

As soon as I'm done, I lay back down next to Chris, trying to get the dizziness out of my head.

Chris must have noticed me squeeze my eyes shut because he says,

"Try and fall asleep kiddo. I'll be right here when you wake up."

I almost pass out as his words, and get comfy and smuggling into his side.

He holds the ice on my face and strokes my hair till I fall asleep, happy that my brothers aren't mad at me.

-

Kinda bad I'm sorry! If it wasn't what you were asking for, send in a more specific request and I can re-do it!

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep

[pedrisbanana]

Could you do something with the cheating trop3 but with gavi, where the reader goes to a game despite pepis injury and gavi takes her home

More intensity. More Gavi...

Enjoy 🍌

Pedri's Luck

Scrolling through your phone, you waited for Gavi at the entrance to the stadium at the parking lot. The air was chilly in the underground floor. You should've brought a jacket.

Pedri had a cold and had to stay home, so he asked you to play Gavi's driver for today. Barcelona had played against Villarreal and won 4-0, with two of the goals scored by the little golden boy. 

Several players greeted you as they walked past you to their cars.

"Hey. Congratulations on the big win." you said and Gavi pulled you into a hug. 

He wore a grey sweater and beige cargo pants. The sweater felt soft against your cheek. Being pressed against his chest, his body warmth spread through you. You sighed. 

He smelled like a fresh shower and musky deodorant. Something hurt in your chest when he let go. 

"Thank you. Also for driving me." he smiled and your heart fluttered in your chest. 

You shook your head. You couldn't think like this, Pedri, his best friend was your boyfriend. Even if Pablo was really hot. 

Both of you stepped into your car and drove off. You felt his eyes on you. 

"Are you okay ?" you asked him, eyes focused on the road. 

"I could ask you the same, you seem nervous" he cocked an eyebrow, letting his eyes take in your body. 

Goosebumps spread on your skin, but not because you were cold. No. Your body felt on fire. Gavi being so close indeed made you nervous. 

"I'm just not used to drive in the night, that's all." your hands fisted the steering wheel tighter, knuckled turning white. 

"Is that why you clench your thighs together ?" he chuckled and suddenly his hand was on your exposed thigh, fingertips tickling the inside of them as he pulled your legs apart. 

His touch felt like a burn, hot on your skin. The pads of his fingers drummed against your sensitive skin. If he reached a little higher he could feel how soaked you were. 

"You know I scored my goals for you." his voice was low and his hand gave your thigh a squeeze. 

"Gavi..." you said, pulling into his driveway. 

Luckily Gavi didn't live that far from Camp Nou. You stopped the engine. 

"Come with me, princesa." 

It wasn't a question. You looked down at your hands in your lap. 

"I'm with Pedri." you couldn't look at him. 

His hand took one of yours. "Now you're here with me and I know that you want this. Pedri will never know." 

His hand was warm and soft. 

After a few minutes of silence he dropped your hand and got out of the car. Before you could sigh in relief, your door opened and Gavi pulled you out of the car. 

He pressed you flush against him and he closed the door with a soft kick of his feet. 

"I'm not letting you go, hermosa. Not when I know you're dripping for me to touch you." he whispered against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. 

"Gavi please-" You were cut off by his lips, soft and warm pressing against yours. 

His erection poked against your hip. You moaned and he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, dancing with yours. 

The cotton material of your dress felt uncomfortable. You wanted Gavi to take it off. You wanted to feel all of him. 

Gavi pulled away, leaving you breathlessly leaning against your car. Your pink lipstick was smudged over his top lip and his face was flushed. He licked his bottom lip, looking at you with husky eyes. 

"Take me inside, Pablo." 

He didn't need to hear more. Picking you up, you wrapped your legs around him. 

Gavi carried you to his bedroom, leaving bruises and bites on your neck before dropping you on the soft sheets. You watched as he opened the fly of his cargos and pulled his sweater over his head. His hair was a mess and it looked insanely attractive. 

Climbing on top of you, he ripped your dress off. 

"Hey this was a birthday present!" you exclaimed as he peeled the fabric off you. 

"Yeah I know, from him." Gavi pulled at your panties, leaving you completely exposed in front of him. 

"What a sight, princesa. Naked and wet." he bit his lip, palming his cock through his briefs. "Be a good girl and get on all fours." 

You did as he said and turned around, arching your back. Pablo's hands found your cheeks and squeezed them. 

The harsh slap surprised you and you moaned his name. 

"I don't think you're wet enough yet. Wouldn't want my cock to hurt you. I'll do that in other ways already" 

He appeared beside you, rummaging through a drawer. You watched him, his pants at his ankles, back muscles flexing. 

After he returned, he startled you by throwing your phone in front of you on the bed. 

His erection pressed between your folds, hips flush with your ass as he bend over you. Pulling a strand of hair behind your ear he kissed it. 

"You're not going home tonight, princesa. Pedri is going to worry. You better text him and tell him his dear friend offered you to sleep over." his hand wrapped around your throat. 

Biting your lip you clicked on Pedri's contact. Gavi kissed your neck, making it hard to concentrate. 

Typing a quick message, you felt Gavi's other hand spread cold lube on your pussy. You automatically rotated your hips, seeking friction. 

"You're so desperate. Can't wait to have my cock inside you, hm ?" 

His lashes tickled the back of your neck. Pushing the phone away, you dropped your arms. The teasing was too much. Your clit throbbed and your pussy clenched, begging for Pablo to finally fuck you. 

"Pablo please." you whimpered, pressing your cheek to the duvet. 

His fingers were replaced by the tip of his cock, rubbing up and down your slit, almost slipping in from your wetness. 

"Please what, amor? Use your voice." Pablo breathed against your neck. 

You pushed your hips back to get him to slip inside, causing him to tighten his grip on your throat. 

"Please Pablo... I need you to fuck me." your voice was filled with need, exhausted from the pleasure. 

His hand guided himself inside and grabbed your hip. Your name on his lips, echoing through his apartment. 

Breathy moans and whimpers mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your wet pussy. 

The hand that held your throat tangled into your locks and pulled, making you arch into him. 

"You feel so good, princesa, so tight. I'm gonna fill you up with my cum until you can't take it anymore." 

His words made you clench harder. One of your hands reached down to circle your clit. The little figure eights you drew had you screaming out in agony. 

"You're such a slut, can't take my cock without touching yourself."  The hand from your hip moved to spread slaps all over your asscheeks, each making you clench and moan, milking his cock. 

"Yes Pablo, mmh." Tears rolled down your face, joining the drool on the duvet under you. 

Pedri was soft and gentle, but Gavi was rough and inexorable. 

A few more thrusts and he screamed out, pumping his seed inside of you with slow, sensual thrusts. 

Gavi pulled out which made you cry out. Turning on your back, you could relax your muscles while your hand still worked your clit in fast movements. 

Pablo look disheveled from the sex as he leaned down to take over for your hand. You closed your eyes as he fucked you with two of his fingers, curling them upwards. 

You could feel your orgasm approaching slowly and your hands found your hardened nipples, playing with them. Your hips bucked as he pulled his fingers out, cum dripping onto your breasts  as he moved them to your lips. 

"Open up nicely, amor." 

Greedily accepting his fingers, knuckle deep between your lips, you cleaned them. His other hand brought you over the edge and he only pushed his hand deeper as you screamed out, waves of pleasure taking over your body.

You gagged a little, the salty taste bringing you back to reality. His wet fingers petted your cheek. Gavi's lips replaced his fingers. His voice vibrated softly, flaming your exhausted body all over again.

"You're so beautiful. Even better than in my dreams. Pedri is lucky to have you."

A/N: Finally some Gavi smut...

Once again not proofread.

Love you guys (not Gavi's cargo pants) 🥰❤️

Leave a comment on your way to the heart button...

[katelynnwrites]

Are You Gonna Feel The Way I Feel? (Are You For Real, Joan’s Sister?) | Ona Batlle

warnings: f for fluff

word count: 3231

summary: your friend, joan, introduces you to his sister and now you have two questions. the first, is she going to feel the way you feel? and the second, is she for real?

a/n: i think all of us united fans need some fluff today so here’s the fic that i’ve just finished writing, based off the song, cate’s brother by maisie peters, which i was beyond lucky to have been able to see live. this is also the very belated euros fic i always meant to write…

You’d never watched football before. You’d never quite got the hype surrounding it either.

But when your friend Joan, suggested you come along with him to England, to support his sister who was going to be playing in the Women’s Euro, you couldn’t say no. You’d never been to England before and Joan had promised you a good time. It would be silly for you to say no.

That simple conversation is when you first heard Ona’s name.

That conversation also led to where you were now, standing in the friends and family section of Spain’s first game in the tournament.

When Finland scored, you could sense the unease in the Spanish supporters. But what amazed you was how they didn’t stop cheering. They kept chanting and waving their flags.

Their faith paid off because when the game finished, Spain had scored four goals to Finland’s one.

Joan makes his way down to the barriers as the players begin to greet their family.

One of Spain’s players strikes up a conversation with you and when it’s over, you see the prettiest brunette standing in front of your friend.

‘Did you meet my sister?’ He asks and you answer, ‘No I didn’t.’

As you do so, you can’t help but check her out.

Joan had pointed her out to you earlier, telling you that she wore the number two and played as a defender.

What he had apparently left out was exactly how gorgeous she is. From her many freckles to the tattoos you could see, she’s absolutely beautiful.

‘Hola, I’m Ona.’ She says, when you take too long to answer.

You blush with embarrassment but reach out to shake her hand.

‘It’s nice to meet you.’

Ona smiles at you and later, when you’re not looking, whispers in Catalan to her brother.

‘You didn’t tell me your friend is so hot.’

Joan only shrugs and laughs.

******

You attend all of Ona’s following games. You ignore your friend when he smirks as you loudly cheer every time Ona gets the ball.

Ona eagerly greets you after each game. By the end of the group stage, the brunette fullback had gone from shaking your hand to hugging you and giving you kisses on the cheek.

After she plays and wins against Denmark, she asks if you’re free to have a coffee with her.

Joan snorts but his girlfriend hits him lightly to get him to shut up.

Ona looks at you hopefully and you grin and nod. The Spanish woman’s smile grows even wider and she can’t stop herself from hugging you tightly again.

You hold her slim form against you, not minding how sweaty she is. Being close to Ona gave you butterflies inside and you found yourself liking it more and more.

******

Ona meets you at the coffee shop near her hotel with a bright smile and eager eyes.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey you.’

‘You look amazing.’ Ona murmurs, stepping closer and kissing your cheek gently.

You blush, looking down at your ripped jeans and simple white shirt.

‘You look amazing too Ona.’

Now it’s Ona’s turn to blush and she shrugs lightly.

Seeing her in Spain’s blue hoodie and a pair of black leggings, it only served to confirm what you already knew. That you didn’t only fancy her like crazy when she was in a football kit.

‘Come on.’

Ona tentatively reaches for your hand and she leads you towards the entrance, where she drops your hand for a moment, only so that she can hold the door open for you.

‘Gracias.’

The brunette giggles at your use of her native language and upon hearing the sound of her laugh, you find yourself falling even harder for her.

You sit across the table from Joan’s sister, smiling at her as she sips her coffee a little too eagerly, resulting in her wincing and hurriedly setting down her cup.

She grins sheepishly at you and your heart goes, ‘Love her, she’s the one and we shall wed.’

******

Later that night as you sit alone in your hotel room, your head says, ‘Are you gonna work? Are you gonna hurt? Are you gonna last forever?’

You had always prided yourself on being independent, on being practical but you were developing feelings for Ona faster than you ever thought was possible. Your thoughts tell you that it’s unreasonable but Ona is just so kind and funny and smart. It’s so easy to talk to her and she makes you feel the most comfortable you’ve ever been when you’re with her.

******

You admire her passion for her sport, the way it so obviously shows whenever she’s on the pitch. It shows even when she’s off the pitch, in the way she studies how her opponents play.

Watching how her brow furrows in concentration as she looks intently at the screen where her game film is playing, your heart tells you again that she’s the one for you.

But you’re still scared.

Sitting cross legged on her hotel bed, you keep watching her. Ona had kicked the teammate whom she was rooming with, out for a few hours, telling her that she wanted to spend time with you.

She has such lovely chocolate brown eyes. The brunette is five-foot-five and she’s a little younger than you. She also liked to be fully prepared for her games and if that meant looking through hours of game film to study her opponents, she was willing to do it.

And you were willing to let her. She looks adorable when she’s focusing and you are more than content to just spend time with her. She was playing in one of the most important tournaments of her life and the fact that she wanted to spend time with you even as she did so made your heart swell with affection for her.

Five minutes later and Ona declares, ‘Okay. That’s enough work for tonight.’

Joan’s sister puts her ipad aside, moving closer to you.

She leans her head against your shoulder and softly asks, ‘How was your day hermosa?’

Your heart skips a beat and your cheeks turn red.

Ona hums and after a few moments of silence she lifts her head up hurriedly, ‘Was that okay? You’re not answering and I don’t mean to pry because Joan told me you can be a bit shy and reserved. I’m sorry-’

‘Hey. Don’t be sorry. I’ve had a really good day. It’s just that no one has ever asked me that before.’ You quietly admit.

‘Oh.’ Ona looks at you sadly before gently taking your hand in hers and running her thumb over your palm.

‘I’d like to ask you about your day every day, if you don’t mind of course.’ Ona murmurs, as she keeps soothing you with her thumb.

‘I think I’d like that.’

Ona leans over, setting your hand down so that she can cradle your face in her hands and give you a protective kiss on your forehead.

******

You travel to the stadium in Brighton with Joan and his girlfriend. You’re all nervous but upon seeing the confidence that Ona walks out with, your mind is set at ease. You can tell that it does the same for Joan because he squeezes your hand tightly.

‘She’s got this.’

******

For the next ninety minutes, you watch in awe as Ona plays her heart out for her country.

Her interaction with Beth Mead and the referee has you on the edge of the seat.

‘Come on Ona, don’t lose your head.’ You murmur anxiously.

Joan glances over but you barely notice, far too busy focusing on his sister.

A few minutes later, when Ona is tackled by another English player, you join the Spanish fans in their booing.

Then you remain standing, tiptoeing to look over the heads of the other fans to make sure that you can see with your own eyes that Ona gets up and is okay.

When she does, you release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Joan really turns to look at you then.

‘You care a lot for my sister don’t you?’

With pink tinged cheeks, you’re answering your friend a heartbeat later.

‘I do.’

******

You grab Ona’s hand as soon as she gets close enough to the barriers. The devastation and still fresh tear streaks on her face lets you know that she doesn’t need you to tell her she played well.

Every minute of the one hundred and twenty minutes she had played showed that. It was as clear as day.

So instead, you say, ‘I’m so proud of you.’

Ona shakes her head but you refuse to let her pull out of your embrace.

It had broken your heart when you watched her lie on the grass, her arms coming up to cover her face as she’d cried earlier, as soon as the whistle had blown. All you had wanted to do then was run across the field to her but you hadn’t been able to so you were hoping to make up for it now.

‘I am so proud of you.’ You repeat wholeheartedly, squeezing her gently.

That’s when Ona breaks down completely, sobbing into your shoulder.

‘We were the better team. It’s not fair.’ She chokes out.

‘I know. I know.’ You stroke her hair and she cries even harder.

Joan puts a hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly.

******

You don’t leave Ona alone for a single second. From the moment you hug her at the stadium, to the moment she’s back in her hotel room, you’re by her side.

When Joan and his girlfriend leave to get back to their hotel, you stay with the brunette fullback.

Joan gives you a knowing look as you see him out, squeezing your shoulder and murmuring a quiet, ‘Gracias. I know you’ll take good care of her.’

When you turn back to Ona, you see that she’s still curled into a small lump under her blanket.

You sit down on the bed beside her and say nothing else, simply reaching a hand under the blanket.

Ona grasping your hand tightly in hers a second later is more than enough of a response.

You lie beside her, holding her hand throughout the rest of the night.

******

Ona wakes up when the sun rises, a smile forming on her face as she feels your hand, still in hers.

Sometime in the night, you had pushed the blanket off her face so that she could breathe properly. Worrying about Ona was apparently something that you were going to have to get used to now.

The fullback brings your joined hands to her lips and gently, she presses a kiss onto the back of your hand.

You stir awake and are met with soft brown eyes that hold the most affectionate of looks in them.

‘Hi.’ You breathe and in answer, Ona whispers a quiet, ‘Hola.’

‘You okay?’

‘Better now. Thank you for staying.’

You shrug, ‘I was happy to. I’m even more happy to see you smile.’

Ona’s smile widens and she kisses your cheek lightly.

‘D-Do you have anything planned today?’

‘No.’

‘Want to get breakfast?

The nervous expression she’s wearing makes your heart skip a beat.

‘Ona, are you asking me out on a date?’

The Spaniard’s cheeks and ears flush adorably, ‘And if I am?’

‘Then I would say yes. But I would however, insist that I pay. I need to treat my favourite player right.’

Ona sits up then, a soft laugh leaving her.

‘Vale, I am honoured to be your favourite player.’

******

Ona invites you to watch the Euro final with her. She had managed to get two tickets in the German’s friends and family section and she was anxiously hoping you would say yes.

She had gone on a short impromptu trip to Austria with Joan and his girlfriend, her brother’s way of trying to take her mind off the quarter final game.

You found it adorable how much your friend cared about his sister.

You had explored London on your own while your friend and Ona were out of the country.

The brunette had insisted you wait to explore Manchester till she came back though. She was adamant that she be your tour guide in the city she now called home.

Ona didn’t want to rush things, the first date had gone so well and she didn’t want to jinx things by having a second date so soon. But she just wanted to spend time with you. She had missed you so much while she was away, even though it was only for a few days. Texting and calling just wasn’t enough.

The Spaniard didn’t have to worry because as soon as she had asked, you’d said yes. You wanted to spend time with her just as much as she wanted to spend time with you.

And Ona couldn’t stop herself from excitedly kissing your forehead.

You giggle and Ona’s gaze flicks down towards your lips just once before she meets your eyes.

But it’s enough to let you know that the feelings you have for her are reciprocated.

It’s why you don’t hesitate to cup her face in your hands and gently kiss her.

Ona melts, sighing into your mouth and kissing you back.

Her hands reach for your waist, fingers sneaking under your shirt and brushing against your bare skin.

The brunette pulls back slightly, just enough to breathe before pressing her lips back onto yours.

The second time she pulls back, she closes her eyes and leans her forehead against yours.

‘I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you.’ She whispers.

You laugh softly and tell her, ‘Me too.’

Outside your hotel room is not the most romantic place to share a first kiss with the woman who could potentially be the love of your life but you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

******

Watching Ona jump to her feet, cheering at the top of her lungs for Germany’s players, you can’t help but smile.

Her excitement and joy are contagious.

The cropped white collared shirt and ripped jeans she’s wearing looks so gorgeous on her. The grin on her face makes her even more beautiful.

You were so happy that she was feeling better and that she had mostly stopped reliving the lost game over and over.

And again, your heart goes, ‘Love her, she’s the one and we shall wed.’

******

When a couple of Germany’s players ask Ona if she would like to come to their after party, Ona glances at you, silently asking if you’d want to go.

You give her a nod and the brunette quickly relays the answer to the Germans.

******

In the hours to come, you learn that the Germans really know how to party.

The alcohol and loud music play a large part in you getting the courage to ask Ona to dance with you.

Ona laughs, shaking her head and protesting, ‘I can’t dance. I’m truly awful at it.’

You have a hard time imagining Ona would be bad, let alone awful at anything but nevertheless, you plead, ‘Come on. Please. Just one song for me?’

Joan’s sister hesitates for a split second before setting down her bottle of beer and taking your hand in hers.

‘Just for you. But don’t blame me if I step on your toes.’

******

Laughing and giggling as you stumble down the corridor of your hotel, with Ona’s hand in yours, you feel like you’re floating with happiness.

Although that may mostly be the alcohol.

You’re both more than a little tipsy and you hurriedly tap your key card to open the door.

Ona eagerly follows you into the room and one moment she’s in front of you and the next, she’s letting out an undignified squeak as she trips and lands on top of you, on your bed.

You laugh breathlessly but Ona isn’t at all fazed, simply taking advantage of her new position and kissing you hard.

‘I love kissing you.’ She mumbles, kissing you again and again.

You respond happily, losing yourself in the feeling of Ona making out with you. The feel of her lips on yours is intoxicating.

When the fullback leans back slightly, you look at her with wide beseeching eyes that ask, ‘Why’d you stop?’

Joan’s sister caresses your waist lightly, ‘Lo siento. I just, I wanted to ask…Will you be my girlfriend?’

You freeze, looking at the hopeful expression on her face.

Her chocolate brown eyes are shining but your head is screaming, ‘Are we gonna make it, gonna break it when it’s now or never?’

Ona keeps looking at you, her thumb carefully stroking your hip over and over again.

The thoughts running through your head jump to, ‘If it’s gonna hurt, will it be worth it and will I recover?’

You must be taking way too long to answer because the Spaniard asks gently, ‘Talk to me? What are you thinking about?’

Your inclination to hesitate is overcome by Ona’s reassuring tone and it comes out as a tiny whisper, fraught with insecurities, ‘Are you gonna feel the way I feel?’

‘Are you for real, Joan’s sister?’ Is another thought that’s on the forefront of your mind but you keep that one to yourself.

Ona shifts her hand to your cheek, resuming her reassuring stroking there.

‘Hermosa, if you mean that your heart skips a beat every time I walk into a room, then yes, I feel the same way. I get butterflies in my stomach whenever you look at me.’

‘You do?’

It’s almost too good to be true. Here Joan’s sister is, telling you that she returns the feelings you have for her.

Hearing it from her own lips is everything you’ve dreamt of for the past month.

Your head and heart are telling you the same thing now, ‘Will we ever get together? We’d be perfect for each other. Will we ever get together?’

Ona kisses your cheek affectionately.

‘Listen, I like you so incredibly much. I won’t let you down or lead you on. I’m not like the others, I promise.’

The raw honesty in Ona’s voice is clear and you know that if she’s anything like her brother, she wouldn’t say something like this lightly.

‘How can I know for sure? It’s only been a summer.’

Joan’s sister tries to keep a straight face because even she can hear, from the tone of your voice, that you’ve already made up your mind. And it was in her favour.

‘Get a flight to Spain and you can meet my mother.’ The brunette says easily.

‘Really?’

Ona giggles at the incredulity in your voice. She didn’t know how else to make sure you knew that she’s serious about the depth of her feelings for you.

‘Really. You already know my brother and he loves you. I’m sure my mother and father would too.’

‘Okay. I’d love to be your girlfriend and I’d love to go to Spain with you.’

The big grin on your face is matched by the goofy one on the brunette’s.

‘Yes!’

Ona cheers and leans down to kiss you, conveying all her emotions into the physical gesture. It nearly overwhelms you, the joy you feel. It assures you that you’re making the right choice.

That’s when you became her only girl and now you date Joan’s sister.

Spanish Translations:

gracias - thank you

hermosa - beautiful

hola - hi

vale - okay

lo siento - i’m sorry

[bongaboi]

TCU: 2022 Fiesta Bowl Champions

GLENDALE, Ariz. -- In the biggest upset since the advent of the College Football Playoff, third-seeded TCU rode its underdog status to a 51-45 win over undefeated and No. 2 Michigan in the Fiesta Bowl on Saturday. The win continued TCU's storybook season and made the Frogs the first Big 12 team to reach the title game in the CFP era.

Highlighted by a 44-point third quarter between the two teams, the semifinal matchup was a back-and-forth affair that saw TCU nearly lose an early 18-point lead, a pair of pick-sixes, two fumbles, a 76-yard touchdown pass, eight scores in just about eight minutes, a record-setting 59-yard field goal and the highest combined score in Fiesta Bowl history.

The signs of an explosive game were there early. Starting in place of injured star running back Blake Corum, Donovan Edwards ripped off a 54-yard run on the first play of the game, yet the Wolverines walked away with zero points after a fourth-down try near the red zone was stopped.

On the next Michigan offensive drive, quarterback J.J. McCarthy threw a telegraphed pass to the outside that was picked off by sophomore safety Bud Clark and returned for a touchdown. It was the Frogs' third pick-six of the season and put them up 7-0.

The Frogs' defense was the star of the first half, as Michigan entered the TCU red zone three times and came away with only nine points by way of three field goals thanks to two huge stops and a fumble at the 1-yard line by Edwards.

TCU's offense, meanwhile, used the advantage of the Air Raid's pace and speed to get out in front. A 12-play, 76-yard drive culminated with quarterback Max Duggan rushing into the end zone from the 1-yard line to put the Frogs up 14-0 in the first quarter. Under coach Jim Harbaugh, Michigan had allowed more than 14 points in the first quarter and gone on to win just once, in 2016 against Colorado, according to ESPN Stats & Information research.

While Michigan struggled to capitalize, on the other side of the ball, Duggan -- the Heisman runner-up -- was pulling out all the stops. Duggan wasn't particularly accurate through the air in the first half, but with his legs, he danced his way to first downs and kept pushing TCU downfield as the Wolverines struggled to mitigate his mobility.

No play was more indicative of that problem than when Duggan rolled out of the pocket with 4:56 left in the second quarter and avoided the Michigan blitz to find Taye Barber for 6 yards and six more points. The touchdown culminated a 10-play, 83-yard drive that gave the Frogs a commanding 21-6 halftime lead and put the Wolverines in their biggest deficit of the season.

Both teams came out of the tunnels after halftime like they were shot out of a cannon, combining for a 44-point third quarter that featured a flea-flicker touchdown from McCarthy, the second pick-six of the game from the Michigan quarterback, another pick from Duggan and three touchdown drives of under three minutes.

McCarthy and Michigan, who had two of those drives, were not going away. But just as the Wolverines were attempting to claw back, TCU kept responding. This time, it was running back Emari Demercado who broke loose for a 69-yard run that Duggan finished off with another 1-yard touchdown sneak. The Frogs finished with 41 points through three quarters. All season, the most points Michigan had given up in an entire game was 27, and going back to last season, the most the Wolverines had surrendered in a game was 37.

After Michigan cut the TCU lead to three points early in the fourth quarter, Duggan, as he has done all season, responded by making the throw of the game. While facing a blitzing defender in his face and a long third down, Duggan found a crossing Quentin Johnston in stride. Johnston sped his way to the sideline and took it 76 yards to the end zone to put the Frogs back up 10. A field goal extended that lead to 13 early in the fourth quarter.

Another methodical Michigan touchdown drive by McCarthy cut the lead once again, this time to six points with 3:18 left, setting the stage for TCU and Duggan. The Frogs needed two first downs to finish the game with the ball in their hands. They could get only one, and the Wolverines had 52 seconds to go 75 yards and make a miracle happen.

On fourth-and-10 with 35 seconds left at its own 25, Michigan fumbled the ball and recovered, but the ball did not make it past the first-down marker. As TCU assistant coaches in the upstairs box yelled and screamed, "We're going to the Natty!" all Duggan had to do was take a knee. The upset of the season -- and of the era -- was complete.

[slut4sway]

anywherebound : chapter III

cheap booze and codeine pills ain’t worth all the losin’

nothin’ can come between us, damn a life worth choosin’

every time you come to town we wind up doin’ the same thing

gettin’ high and runnin’ around, blame you tend on placin’

🌅•••••••••••••••••••🍻

chapter III : hell in golden hours

notes : i apologize in advance. trigger cole pulling women’s hair but it’s ok cause i’m gay thing pls.

tw: drinking, drug use, one use of the f-slur, sexual harassment

5/26/23

8:49pm

trevor stirred in his sleep as jamie stroked his dull auburn flow. his silky hair felt so soft running between his fingers, as it all just seemed to spill out into jamie’s hands like it was mean to be there.

he gazed down at him with heavy eyes, dark circles forming from just watching the boy in his arms rest for hours. the day had already wasted away like always, just like every other day because of their lack of activity after being eliminated from the playoffs. summer was supposed to be a time to decompress when all it has done was put him on edge. after every detox he just relapsed; but he never really put effort into trying to stop, like everyone says.

but everyone is wrong.

if he could put a label on his emotions instead of screaming that he’s trying, trying really damn hard maybe things would clear up.

that’s a maybe though.

being numb until he can’t feel what’s wrong anymore, or because too much was wrong he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

for one, he wasn’t good enough for himself. nothing he did would ever be enough, not even for trevor who always came running back to him after all he had done was hurt him.

he wasn’t some connor bedard, or some cale makar defenseman. but he was something. something enough. he didn’t have the talent rushing through his veins like they did; and no matter how hard he worked and after everyone telling him he’s doing just fine, he wasn’t ever enough for himself.

all the ‘don’t be so harsh to yourself’ and the ‘you’re doing great, james’ didn’t change a damn thing. it was like an empty void every time he messed up, or let someone get past him. but trevor filled that void. anytime they would play, they just seemed to *flow. *passes connected. nasty dekes. great plays. goals. assists. all of it.

his shoulder injury though, took that all away from him. every rare win, every after party, even coming home and fucking their pain away after a loss; that was gone too. replaced by getting a little too stoned or a little too drunk with the occasional pill-popping and coke-snorting. cause what else was he supposed to do while trevor was out making a name for himself? out there scoring goals? out there racking up points? out there living? out there overshadowing jamie? what was jamie without trevor?

it was always ‘hey z!’, but never a ‘hey jim!’. hell, he was on the cover of nhl 23. *everyone always looked at *trevor, first. never jamie. talk about being the second choice.

if he could just rip trevor’s heart out, but kiss his pain away; he would. if he could shut his annoying ass up, then tell him he loves his voice; he would. if he could say he hates him, then crawl back for more; he would.

if trevor could listen to jamie self-depreciate himself, then paint him like one of his french girls; he would. if trevor could watch jamie fall apart, then put him back together; he would. if trevor had the poetic wisdom deep in him to write songs jamie would never hear; he would.

would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

when, though? why, though?

the lighter-haired boys eyelashes fluttered open, meeting the gaze of the raven-headed boy holding him. jamie wiped some saliva from the corner of trevor’s mouth with his thumb affectionately.

“good morning.. evening really; love.” the younger boy rasped out, running his thumb over trevor’s glazed cheekbones. trevor nuzzled into his wrist, curling his legs into his own space while he let out a meaningless squeak of approval.

“jack and cole are here from the east coast, and the boys are hosting a bonfire party down at the beach. i kind of told them we’re going but.. i said we wouldn’t use.” because who wouldn’t go to california for the off season. jamie’s voice was soft and clear, as he ran his calloused fingers through trevor’s hair once again.

“..i mean why not? what’s the worse that could happen if we’re not.. you know.” trevor tilted his head. their obvious addiction and possible chance at sobriety wasn’t some hush-hush topic, and the way he said this was… weird.

“yeah, it’s at huntington beach i think.. so its maybe an hour away from here.” jamie recollected his thoughts, coming to the conclusion it was where they always hung out whenever jack and cole would come out west.

“start the truck, i’ll be down in a second. gonna clean myself up.” trevor briefed, pulling himself from the position he was laying on jamie’s chest.

•

1989 taylor swift blasting as they ripped down the empty freeways, windows down with trevor sticking his head out like a dog; and jamie smiling and barely keeping his eyes on the road with one hand on the wheel as he admired the golden retriever boy in the passenger seat. nothing screams summer like tearing down the highways at night in a sun burnt silverado. life was good. good enough, at that moment.

the backroads of rural california soon morphed into populated streets all flowing down to the coast line, an obvious column of smoke drifting up to the sky a good distance away. jamie turned down the music and pulled off the paved road onto the sand, about five yards away from the bonfire that lit up the western sky.

trevor hopped out the truck and was immediately greeted by sonny, mason, jack, and cole and some other unknown faces and some blonde women jamie recognized from the club or their games. he just watched the boy get all giddy crowded, while nobody even bothered to say ‘hi’. he just watched. not like it mattered, because social validation wasn’t something he relied on the way* pretty boy zegras* did; but it would be nice to have some.

he hopped out of the drivers side, his white crocs immediately filling with sand. jamie shoved the lanyard with his keys into the pocket of his shorts, trekking over through the slightly damp sand to some lawn chairs in front of the bonfire. it crackled and peacefully stood tall, the flame reaching up to the sky instead of straying out and lunging towards him like it felt like it would.

he sat down in a sunken red chair next to the cooler and a bucket of chilled liquor, catching a glimpse of everyone swarming trevor; until an unfamiliar blonde girl approached him.

“you’re not looking like one to follow the crowd.” she tapered off the sentence with the sound a girl makes, obviously trying to strike up a conversation with him. she was short, her skin was sun-kissed and warm, and her ash blonde hair didn’t match. the light from the fire glistened off her bejeweled nose ring, as some white powder fell from it as she spoke.

“mkay.” jamie responded with apathy. not like he had interest in anyone but trevor, even after last night. more so in love with him despite lingering in his shadow all the time.

“what? can i get you a drink or like.. a blunt or something to loosen’ you up?” she chirped, followed by a flirtatious giggle that complimented her drawn out slight southern accent. her blue eyes pierced into his soul, sinking her imaginary claws and fangs into his neck as she pestered him.

“no.”

“it’s not often i find a pretty boy like you hangin’ around with no woman.. so why won’t you just let me have a shot?” she batted her eyelashes, some water dripping off her curves and darkening her white bikini.

“please go.”

“cmon, what’s your name?”

“leave me be, please.” jamie kept his cool, but desperately tried to give an obvious hint. he turned his face away from her, hoping lack of attention would get her away.

“oh fuck.. and look at your jawline, baby!” the blonde exclaimed, running a finger with long white acrylics along the crease of his jawline.

“hands off me, please.” jamie swatted her hand away, visibly uncomfortable by the interaction. this girl has got to be coked up a little bit.

“don’t be a pussy, boy! you’re so beautiful, how could i keep my hands off you?” she shrieked, maybe drawing the attention of the pack of people still lingering by the truck. the woman ran her hands down his neck and around the tight fabric by his pecs.

jamie froze. his muscles tensed under her fleeting touch that unsettled him. he clenched his teeth and gripped onto his knees and the arm of the seat until he was white knuckled.

“HEY! get your god damn grimey paws off him, you bitch!” trevor barked at her, tripping through the crowd that follows behind him as he hastened to jamie.

“relax babe, i was just tryna get some dick. a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do!” she laughed, as she slurred the words she spoke.

trevor would’ve hightailed it if she wasn’t so close to the fire, as he grazed her shoulder while hurrying over to jamie.

“jimmy? you okay?” his voice ached with worry and guilt, like he knew why the encounter happened with his lack of attention towards jamie and more of it on his apostles.

“mhm. fine.” jamie released his hold on himself, hiding the emotion in his voice with an apathetic tone. all because trevor had to be engulfed in his followers.

cole, jack and sonny with a blunt in hand of course, and mason with a red solo cup of god knows what, all skipped over to jamie; way to read the room. they called his name with some wolf whistles that would have sounded a hell of a lot better if it weren’t always trevor first.

the rest of the ten or so unrecognized faces hung back, dispersing around the area. trevor gave him a look of apology, as jamie falsely accepted and made room for him on his lap. the blonde girl from before moved on to a group of boys who looked significantly younger than her; maybe 19 or so.

“fuckin’ cougar.” the raven-haired boy swore under his breath as he felt the comforting weight of trevor settle onto his thigh.

“i know jim.. i’m sorry.” trevor bit his lip, relaxing his back as he interlaced his fingers with jamie’s.

jamie fell silent. there wasn’t much he could say. or wanted to say. eventually the empty silence was filled by some of the boys playing an unknown drinking game; most likely a variation of spin the bottle in the far spot in the circle. trevor sprung up from jamie’s lap as if he wasn’t there, running over to see what they’re doing. not like he could keep trevor settled for more than 5 minutes anyway, more so with people around. sometimes he wishes trevor wasn’t an extrovert, and would give him the time of day though there were other people around.

the same blonde girl approached him again, and instead of fighting it he just relaxed and kind of shut down.

“changed your mind yet?” her southern charm was something alright, tilting her head as the corners of her lips lifted into a not-so-innocent grin.

“ah what the hell.” what better way to get trevor’s attention back than to talk to another girl?

“good boy!” she praised, running her hands through jamie’s hair as some salty seawater dripped. between his locks and maneuvered around each strand of hair. good boy. *that was what trevor called him when he was proud. it was trevor’s nickname and trevor’s epithet only, and hearing it coming from someone else’s mouth felt *wrong.

jamie smiled, patting down on his lap where trevor once sat. his smile was fake, though. he didn’t really want her. he wanted trevor. but all his efforts that night were like wrestling down a steer in some rodeo. the blonde girl dropped down into his space, as he wrapped a firm hand around her waist. she leaned over, lifting a bottle of limoncello and red, white, and berry smirnoff along with 2 solo cups from the cooler.

“i’m not-“ jamie caught himself mid sentence. making trevor jealous was one thing, but breaking a promise was another.

“i know you’d probably want a beer, but try it! it’s great” the girl spoke through the splashing of liquor she poured into both of the cups.

sure. just great. jamie had little to no self control when it came to alcohol so available, everything seemed to just turn off and he couldn’t resist anymore. he knew booze wasn’t worth upsetting trevor, but it was like he subconsciously didn’t have a choice. and the next thing he knew; the flavors of blue raspberry with notes of citrus was dancing on his tongue and rushing down his throat.

small sips occasionally turned into several refills. once he turned the switch on, he couldn’t turn it off. the blonde girls sing-songy laugh distorted and morphed into her whispering dirty phrases into his ear as his hands started to wander all over her body, gently tugging at the thin strings that tied together her bikini bottoms.

•

trevor turned his head to check back on jamie, only to seeing something he wishes he didn’t.

the world seemed to spin around him, as his limbs went weak. the smile quickly ran from his face, staring at jamie with a solo cup in hand and another hand on the blonde girls hip that straddled him in the lawn chair. the sand on he felt on his knees disappeared, and he felt like he was falling into a void of nothingness as his head spun.

jamie made eye contact with him. he knew what he was doing. like he knew the hurt he was causing.

trevor could see the intoxication from miles away; because he could tell his jamie from the one who yelled at him after he dumped out the liquor he bought when they went through phases of trying to heal.

“woah, woah, woah… z, you okay?” jack worried, immediately catching the back of his head and his shoulders before he hit the sand. trevor shivered, his anxiety coursing through him at such a speed he could feel it. his eyes were visibly in shock, as he lost control of his body. jack passed off the shrinking blunt to sonny, who quickly snuffed it in the sand. mason crawled over next to him, freaking the fuck out and rambling trevor couldn’t make out to be words while another unknown face held his forearm for support; grazing his fresh scars that caused him to flinch.

“what the fuck..? look at jamie and that stupid bitch over there!” cole barked, like he seemed to so obviously know what sent trevor into shock. he scrambled to his feet along with sonny, sprinting over to jamie to investigate what bullshit he pulled this time.

jack whispered affirmations, along the lines of ‘it’s okay trev, i’m here bud’ and ‘stay with me’ or ‘i got you’; but it’s not like trevor could make out any of what he was saying. jack lifted them both to their feet, as he supported him with an arm around his shoulder. the slightly shorter boy staggered over to his truck with trevor glued to his side, barely being able to keep his footing. jack would’ve ripped open the tailgate if it weren’t for half his strength using one arm.

he hoisted trevor up into the bed of his and jamie’s pickup, lying his head to rest against the back windows.

“it’s alright z.. i’m here… i got you buddy” jack said breathlessly, as trevor slowly came back to his senses.

“why’d he.. the girl… he, he-“

“settle down, shhh” jack cooed, grounding him with a hand gently compressing his chest.

trevor choked up some broken cries, tears streaming from his face. his cool toned auburn hair fell over his forehead, as he sobbed into jacks shoulder.

“he said he wouldn’t do it again!” trevor wailed, breath hitching in his chest.

“i know baby, breathe..” his voice was warm and affectionate. for once that night trevor felt safe in someone’s arms other than jamie’s which would probably be choking him out right now.

•

the blonde girl screamed as cole ripped her from jamie. he tossed her off to the side like she was shit (not very different), her body hitting the ground as the grainy sand was disturbed.

“james what the hell? you said you weren’t drinking? you know what you did to trevor?” sonny snapped, landing a palm to jamie’s cheek with such force his jaw rattled a bit.

“i dunno… he was’n like payin’ tension to me cause he’s all..” jamie drunkenly misarticulated.

sonny and cole continued to yell at him, until a tall and noticeably bigger guy came up to them looking obviously irritated. he picked the blonde girl up, wiping the sand off her shoulders.

“the fuck did you guys do to my bitch?” he snarled, staring down jamie in the lawn chair that wasn’t mentally present; staring off into the stars hanging above the beach.

“your bitch was all over him.” coles stupid remarks could’ve gotten him into big trouble with this boy, but sonny held him back by the shoulders before cole could lunge at him.

mason soon hurried up to the scene, studying everyone’s body language before he decided to stay out of it and watch from the sidelines.

everyone was on something and the tensions were through the rough.

the sizeable dark haired boy swung at jamie, landing a hit near his temple, following with another blow to his mouth.

jamie should’ve passed out, but instead brought him to his feet as he striked the other boy with an uppercut. everyone was yelling and trying to pull them away, even the other people who weren’t there originally. everyone who tried eventually got caught in the crossfire and ended up walking away with a black eye.

“you’re a fag anyway, why are you all over her? huh?! wanna act all fucking tough?!” this just provoked jamie even more, as he threw drunken punches. once he got him off guard enough, jamie kicked the front of his knees enough where he heard a crack.

the other boy screamed in pain and agony, backing up while limping on one leg just to be tackled into the waves crashing against the shore. each rip-curl pounded down on him with such force, as jamie continued to batter him and knee him straight between his ribs while he held his head under water.

he never stopped until he saw the sea foam turn the same color as the steady red he was seeing.

“JAMES!”

“holy shit what did you do?”

mason yelled while sonny finally got a hold of a thrashing jamie and dragged him off of the bigger body curled up against himself and crying.

jamie just blankly stared up at the large number of people behind him.

horrified looks from everyone, all eyes were on him.

the cold rough waters sobered him up enough to be alert, but he could still feel the affects of his drunken state poking and prodding at him.

this was his fault. all of it. his insecurity caused him to make stupid choices with the intention to get trevor closer to him, when all it did was hurt both of them and the people around them. this isn’t what healthy relationships are like.

cole silently picked up up with shame, wiping blood from the corners of his mouth that trailed to jamie’s chin. everyone just stared. sonny and mason followed behind, looking back at all the disapproving stares from their failed party.

“you should probably.. um-“ cole suggested, biting his lip out of awkwardness.

“go home. i know.” the taller boy interrupted. what a damn let down. he said he was gonna try and stay sober for trevor but that’s gone to waste like every other empty promise he’s made.

jamie fucked up. again. what a hothead. but trevor would still be there to keep him warm even if that meant his whole life he would freeze. even behind all the dirty looks jamie would get; trevor would still say that dirty looks good on him.

•

jack stroked trevor’s hair as he whimpered in his arms, since he had no more tears left to cry. all the ache and tangled up emotions could be fixed by no other than jamie fucking drysdale, just after he is the reason he’s wrestling with himself. trevor could be feeling like a damn rebirth, but then when jamie stops laughing he loses all his worth. he could question it all at night in his bed, but he can’t take back any of the love he’s given.

“trev.” a raspy, broken voice called out from the dark nothingness of the beach.

trevor perked up at jamie’s voice, leaning over the sides of the truck bed to see him stagger-stanced with some flecks of blood around his face and a busted lip.

“you’re.. you’re not good to drive.” trevor’s voice was exhausted and heavy. quite obvious he wanted to avoid any further discussion. he shooed jack from the back of the vehicle, and he took the hint and hopped out with another ‘i love you’ look from his best friend.

jack walked over to sonny, cole, and mason and began to talk but all trevor could make out was his name.

“i’m real sorry.” jamie turned around as he said this, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat before any of them could answer.

this was gonna be a long drive home.

•

after a couple minutes of sitting in silence, everyone else returned to their place at the bonfire. the boy jamie had beat up was wrapped up in a blanket, and the blonde girl next to him massaging his upper thigh. they sure as hell were talking shit, because even cole looked uncomfortable. and normally he wouldn’t let anything slide and would call them out right away.

but what did it matter?

trevor finally sighed and pulled his extra pair of keys to the truck, lighting up the ignition. he pulled off the small sandy dunes that suspended the truck and drove up to the paved road onto the long way home. it wasn’t gonna be them tearing down the highways like before, rather just watching the mountains melt into the backroads that took them home to their rinky-dink rural town.

“why’d you do it?” jamie heard trevor break the silence, watching his hands work around the wheel as they pulled off the main road.

“i- like i… i don’t know. you were just with them and i wanted to get your attention by talking to that girl and, i- i fucked up and i don’t know what was going through my head. then that other guy came and well, he called me the f-slur so..” jamie trailed off.

“okay james. guess our promise wasn’t going through your head either.” the windows rolled down, but instead of the resisting wind pushing everything back it was the summer californian breeze. it wasn’t unforgiving and rough, rather comforting and gentle. trevor’s sanity was hanging on by a thread and he could send them barreling into a ditch if he wanted to, if he was like jamie.

“i know, and i’m sorry.” he could say he was sorry and how he was guilty all night until his lungs turned blue, however trevor would still find patience for him. somewhere in the dusk he was on his side. jamie was tiny but talky, and that didn’t always do him good.

“you make it really hard to love you.” his words stung like acid on jamie’s heart.

“but you still do.. right?” he questioned, looking over at trevor focus on the road with his left arm hanging out the window.

“i tried to hate you. but i cant. i don’t think i ever will.” trevor forced out these words, stifling an unsteady grandeur and some leftover tears that he barely could cry anymore.

“you’re too good to me. i don’t deserve you at all, trev” he whined as the tip of his nose grew pink and his mouth fell slightly agape, letting some suppressed sobs escape.

“that’s the problem, you think you don’t deserve something so you ruin it” trevor was right. jamie was right. trevor was too good to him. jamie didn’t deserve him. nevertheless, he couldn’t ever imagine his best friend with someone else. even if they hurt each other more than anything. some people say ‘just because you love each other doesn’t mean it’s mean to be’, but that’s a load of bullshit to trevor.

“but i couldn’t ever hate you; I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you would bleed yourself dry for me. i hate the way you drive my truck, hate it when you stare. i hate your eyes. i hate your big nose. i hate your perfectly dumb big smile. i hate the way you read my mind off the sole virtue of a simple look.”

jamie continued their revised version of the poem, referring to *10 things i hate about you. *they both knew it by heart, since they made it up drunk one night watching the old romcom one night.

“i hate the way you're always right, i hate it when you lie. i hate the way you make me laugh and i hate the way you make me cry.”

“i hate you're not around, and the fact that you called and you saw me like this. i hate you so much it makes me fucking sick to my stomach” trevor recited, proceeding with the back and forth of their cheesy cliche.

“but fully I hate the way I don't hate you”

“not even close”

“not even a little bit”

“not at all”

their words blended together in unison, even their cries and whines they finally released.

because no matter how much wrong they could do, they always came crawling back and begging for more.

[portablefrailty]

Shades of Freshman Year?

This is the kind of win you’re not supposed to get.

Facing a great team on their home ice in a 2-0 hole and desperate to stay in the series; facing the best power play in the league and itching to break an 0-10 drought and avenge a PK that’s surrendered 4 goals; facing a goalie change; coming off 50+ shots faced in Game 2; up against a 40-25 shot disadvantage, a 39% face off win rate, a 31-17 deficit in hits--nothing about Game 3 boded a Rangers win.

The script unfolded as expected in the first. Guentzel, the deadline acquisition who’s scored maybe more playoff goals against the Rangers than any other player, buries another. Carolina allows no let up but holds the lead into mid second period when, at 7:39, Fox gets called for tripping.

Carolina goes on their third power play of the game, hoping lucky 13 will break the drought.

They. have. all. the. momentum.

Guentzel wins the faceoff. For thirty seconds its a firing squad: Burns, Jarvis, Aho, Guentzel and Svechnikov all shoot the puck. One block, one miss and three saves by Igor.

Just past the eight minute mark the whole series undergoes a seismic shift.

Zibanejad jumps a bad cross-ice pass at the blue line. He and Kreider are off--two white streaks breaking down ice with one hapless stick swinging, back checking defender between them.

Kreids buries the shorty. 1-1 score.

For the rest of the second it feels like the Canes (team, coaches and fans collectively) have been punched in the throat. The momentum shift feels like round 2 in Rocky IV after that hook tears Drago’s eye open.

The Canes were so rattled the Rangers damn near scored again on the same kill. Twice.

After that, nothing surprised me. Not the go ahead third period goal. I thought the Rangers might take it 2-1 but Carolina does their thing with the goalie pulled. Svechnikov at 18:24. Ho-hum. No panic. Three minutes and nineteen seconds later (not including intermission)-- By the time Panarin rips the game winner (his fourth), it feels like it's meant to be.

Wins like this are about the surest sign you can ask for that it's your team's year.

The series isn't over (technically), Boston ain't bad and Florida is scary, and the west has got scoring talent galore. Not to mention the Avs: as a Jersey transplant in Colorado, the thought of a another Avalanche cup win, this time at the Rangers's expense, makes me throw up in my mouth.

All of the above notwithstanding--the Rangers have the '94 Mojo. Another President's Trophy, another 7-0 start to the playoffs. They're also rested and, with Chytil back, actually healthier than ever! Unlike the Knicks, who are a Brunson ankle-tweak away from forfeiting--the Rangers are spreading the love and could absorb almost any loss. Just when you think a Ranger's name hasn't been mentioned in a while, he scores.

Hell, with Quick on the bench, we could even survive losing Shesterkin!

The 5-5 issue has turned into a nothing burger with a healthy six to date in these series and a slew in round 1. Not that anemic even-strength scoring matters much when you're dominating on the power play and your PK has more goals on opposing penalties than your opponents do!

In the face of this freight train Carolina be like Michael Spinks after a hard right from Tyson--a fine boxer whose grand strategy is now trickling down his leg and will be lucky to make the first bell.

Lest I be accused of jinxing my beloved Blueshirts: I'm not having Stanley Cup visions yet. But I can't deny that tonight's vibes have a premonitory quality to them.

Not exactly Stephane Matteau, Jim Leyritz or David Tyree tremors.

More like Kovalev's goal in Game 6, Jeffrey Maier's catch, or Brandon Jacobs vs. the shot clock at Texas Stadium.

Rest assured, though, Lord Stanley's mug remains as impossibly silver and elusive to me as the Holy Grail.

After tonight, though, I will permit myself a fond remembrance of the day Ken Conrad brought a cardboard and tinfoil replica to school one fine spring day in the waning weeks of freshman year (June 15th, 1994, to be exact). It was glorious. Every Ranger fan was decked out like an American flag while the eye of every Devil's fan (about 70% of my high school) burned red with bitterness or green with envy at the sight of that faux trophy.

The afterglow lasted precisely one week--ending the night John Starks went 0-11 from three point land doomed the Knicks in Game 7 against the Rockets. After finally getting past the (Jordanless) Bulls, I was sure the script called for a Knicks coronation and felt a bit cheated to be denied the double title.

I was 15. A year later I watched NY getting swept by the Legion of Doom, Claude Lemieux snag the Conn Smythe and the Devils raise their first cup (with two more slated for my college years).

At age 45, I have learned not to take championship glory for granted. 30 years on, following the Rangers negotiate the two month gauntlet that is the NHL playoffs is about a nerve wracking as witnessing my son's birth in the middle of the Boulder Floods of 2013--7-0 record be damned.

Tonight at least I'm making a point to enjoy the ride so far.

[starryhyuck]

limit. (m)

pairing: gryffindor!mark x reader

words: 3.4k+

summary: with gryffindor on a continuous losing streak, you have no choice but to push your quidditch player boyfriend to his breaking point.

genre: smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex, degradation, daddy kink, face slapping

“If you keep pushing him, he’ll snap.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

You observe Mark across the Great Hall, fingers clenched tightly around his spoon. The other Gryffindor seated beside him are eyeing him warily, afraid the resident happy Head Boy was slowly losing his mind.

This, of course, is partly due to you.

You’ve refused to give Mark an orgasm until Gryffindor wins a Quidditch match, which has effectively been very hard since the team has been on a losing streak. You and Mark aren’t animals, per se, but the two of you fucked regularly and the fact that he hasn’t gotten the chance to touch you in weeks is taking a toll on him.

Lucas swings an arm around his shoulder and whispers something to him, but Mark’s eyes are locked in on you. You could almost feel the magic radiating off of his form. You smile deviously, arm reaching to wrap around Donghyuck’s, who gladly accepts your touch. Luckily, Donghyuck enjoys pushing Mark’s buttons almost as much as you do.

Donghyuck’s in the middle of feeding you a bite of his chicken when all of the glasses in the Great Hall shatter. A jumbled murmur of shrieks and gasps of surprise echo at the performance of wandless magic. Students whip their heads around, frantically trying to find the source of the fiasco. You already know who the culprit is, watching as Mark stomps out of the Great Hall, fists clenched tightly.

—

Donghyuck snickers beside you.

“You’re really asking for it. Wearing Slytherin gear and sitting with the snakes? He’s going to ruin you.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comment and adjusting the green tie wrapped around your neck. You briefly lock eyes with your irate boyfriend, who is currently on the Quidditch pitch, waiting for the match to begin. You smile and wave at him innocently, only to receive the nastiest look in return.

Donghyuck laughs again at the exchange. “I’ve never seen Mark look like that. Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences?”

You grin as the game begins, the cheering sounds from the Slytherin stands almost drowning out your voice.

“He needs a little push. Gryffindor has lost three games in a row already.”

You prove Donghyuck right a hour into the game. Mark has been scoring goal after goal since the match started. Slytherin’s Keeper tries to block every single throw, but Mark is clearly on a mission, showing no mercy to the Slytherin house. He almost looks like he would Avada someone on the spot just to win.

Every time he scores, he makes a point to look straight at you before zooming off. You smirk to yourself, already feeling your panties dampen at the sight. One part of you is slightly afraid of what Mark will do to you once Gryffindor wins. The other part of you is unabashedly excited.

The Slytherins around you groan and complain as Mark continuously scores. Donghyuck is enjoying the show, knowing you’re truly in for it later after seeing the murderous look painted on Mark’s face.

The game ends after two hours, with the Gryffindor Seeker securing the Snitch and winning the match. The sea of red erupts in a roar of applause and cheers, while the Slytherins grumble and curse their luck. It was the first loss of the season for the Slytherins, and they could all thank your boyfriend for that.

Usually, when Mark wins a game, you would wait outside the locker rooms and congratulate him with a kiss. This time, you want to make him work for it a little more.

Donghyuck chuckles when he sees you turn the opposite direction of the locker rooms.

“You’re in for it now.”

—

You’re laughing at something Doyeon’s telling you when you feel the abrupt tug on your arm. You hiss at the contact, ready to hex whoever it is. Realization seeps within you when you see the look of fury on Mark’s face as he tugs you away from your friends.

“I’ll see you guys later!” You call out, already feeling the slick of your wetness coating your thighs.

“Okay! Great game, Mark!”

The Gryffindor boy doesn’t even thank them, pulling open the door to the empty Potions classroom and shoving you inside. You put on your innocent persona.

“That wasn’t very nice. I was having an interesting conversation with Doyeon, if you must know.”

“On the desk. Now.”

The anger laced in his tone has your body vibrating. You decide to push him even further, frowning and clutching your books tighter to your chest. You still have Donghyuck’s Slytherin scarf wrapped around you, which Mark is heavily glaring at.

“I don’t even get a please? Where are your manners, Mark?”

You gasp when he steps forward, fingers bunching around the locks of your hair and pulling. Hard.

“You think this is so funny, don’t you? Watching me fall apart, breaking all the glasses in the Great Hall and receiving detention for it? How about wanting to injure someone on the field just so we could win? Just so I can come back to you, fuck you so hard your tight cunt stretches out.” His fingers grip the fabric of your skirt and he growls. You swear you can feel your juices start running down the inside of your thigh with how wet you are. “And what about this? This stupid fucking little skirt. You think you could get away with that too?”

You placed a charm on your clothing early this morning, making your button-up shirt just a little tighter around your chest and your skirt a little shorter than normal. You smile and try to raise your chin as much as possible, struggling as Mark continues to pull your hair.

“Daddy likes it? I did it just for you. Just so Daddy could win today.”

Mark’s eyes are the darkest they have ever been, and you try not to glance down at his trousers, which are probably straining from his growing erection. You only play the Daddy card once or twice, mainly because once it’s out in the open, Mark fucks you until you can’t feel your legs. And most days, you would prefer not to limp from class to class.

Another gasp rips out of your throat when he discards your clothing with the flick of his wand. He casts a silencing charm on the room, and you know you’re done for.

He leaves you in your undergarments, and today, you have chosen to wear a nice lacy number in Slytherin green. The sight makes him hiss in frustration, and it isn’t long before he slams you down on a nearby desk. You whimper at the contact, but Mark hardly cares about your well-being at this point.

He snickers at the sight of your ruined underwear, snapping the garter you’re wearing against your skin as you yelp.

“Look at you. Greedy little slut. Who got you this wet?”

“D-Donghyuck,” you manage to say, gathering enough courage.

The answer earns you a slap across the face and you cry at the pain.

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

“Y-You, Daddy. Just y-you.”

He hums in contentment. You shudder when you feel a finger run up and down your slit. “I’m going to make the rules very clear today. You’ll do your best to obey them, or else I’ll use your body how I please without letting you cum. Understood?” At your timid nod, he continues. “I’m going to fuck your tight little cunt raw. I’m going to cum as much as I like, and make you cum as much as I like. If I hear any protests, I’ll add an extra orgasm to the list. I don’t care if you’ve reached your limit. I don’t care if you can’t handle any more. I’ll do whatever I like, and there will be no arguments about it.”

You chew on your bottom lip. Mark has never fucked you raw before — you both always use Muggle condoms or contraceptive charms.

“But, Mark-“

He slaps your clothed slit and you gasp loudly. “That’s another orgasm added to the list. Do you want another one? We’re already at five.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been able to take more than three orgasms from him without passing out. You immediately shake your head, sealing your lips tight.

“Good. Bend over.”

You scramble to follow his orders, shakily positioning yourself over the desk. Another flick of his wand and you’re completely naked. You whimper at the vulnerability, wondering if he also cast locking charms on the doors too. Anyone could walk in and see you bent over like this.

Mark usually likes to see your face when he fucks you so you’ve never really tried this position with him. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel his hands exploring your backside.

“Wish everyone could see you like this for me. Bent over during dinner while I fuck you into the table. They always tease me about you. Gryffindor Head Boy could never satisfy his partner. They think I’m such a goody-two-shoes.” You almost scream when a finger unexpectedly pushes into you. “I wonder what everyone would think now — having you bent over the Potions desk like this, eager to be fucked like a little whore. Waiting for my cock to split you apart, isn’t that right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you garble.

He adds another finger, the squelch of your wetness causing you to grow even warmer. He thrusts his fingers inside of you, skillfully digging them into the spot you love.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about your cunt? Ever since you made that ridiculous bet with me, I knew I was done for. I had to excuse myself so many times from class just to rub one out in the bathroom. Seeing you in this cute little skirt, so eager to earn House Points, so willing to please the professor. I imagined how tight your pussy would feel when I wrapped a hand around myself, how many of those sweet moans I could bring out of you.”

When he pushes a third finger in, you shriek as you cum without warning. You were probably moaning without any sense, writhing on top of the desk as Mark fingers you through your orgasm. He drank up every single one of your sounds, gazing down at you with a feral look in his eyes.

Even as your orgasm subsides, Mark doesn’t stop fucking you. You almost request for him to give you a break, but you know it’ll just earn you another orgasm.

He watches you, waiting for you to beg for him to stop. He smiles when you obey, continuing to thrash and whine as his digits pump into you.

“So pretty, perfect for me. You’re always so tight, it’s not fair to me, you know? I could fuck you every single day and you would still need to be stretched out regardless.” He leans over your frame, mouth beginning to press open mouthed kisses at your throat. The sensation has you jolting, his fingers grinding down to rub at your clit. “But you would like that, wouldn’t you? So hungry for my cock.”

This was true — you couldn’t seem to get enough of Mark on a daily basis. Even if you didn’t fuck every single day, you always had the urge to get on your knees for him and suck his cock. It calmed you in a way. Before exams, Mark would pull you into a nearby alcove and let you suck him off until your worries disappeared.

You could feel your high approaching again. “P-P-Please,” you stutter, gasping and pushing yourself further down his fingers. “Please, Daddy.”

At the sound of your begging, Mark sinks to his ground. He jerks your body until you’re halfway off the desk, pushing your thighs apart so he can see you fully. He takes a moment to marvel at how pretty you are before licking a stripe up your cunt. You groan, fingers tangling into his hair, which is still slightly damp from his after-game shower.

He hums against your folds, exploring them with his tongue. Mark could eat you out for days and remain unbothered by the outside world. There have been multiple times where you’ve woken up to his head in between your legs as he snuck into your dormitory room early in the morning to get a taste of you. There’s also been a few occasions when he would convince you to sneak out while he runs patrol in the hallways, just so he could prop you against a wall and eat you out until you cry.

Your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the feeling of Mark’s mouth on your cunt. He’s groaning with you, hands cupping your thighs and bringing you closer to him. His nose continuously nudges your clit as he licks you, slurping on the remnants of your orgasm.

It doesn’t register for a few seconds that he’s still talking to you.

“This is mine. My cunt for fucking. I’m the only one who’s allowed to see you like this, understand? The only one who gets to make you cum.”

He is, indeed. You topple headfirst into your second orgasm, juices spilling into Mark’s waiting mouth. He cleans you up as your body attempts to recover. You’re lucky he remembered to place a silencing charm, your voice almost giving out with the amount of screams you’ve emitted. He decides to spare you this time, rising from the ground and licking his lips.

“Tastes so good.” He smirks down at you, watching as your chest rises and falls from heavy panting. You feel like you’ve run a marathon, but he looks like he’s only just started. His fingers brush stray hairs away from your face. “Poor baby. All fucked out already? I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

You blink deliriously in response and he laughs. His fingers dig into your hips once more as he adjusts you on your back again.

“How about you answer a question for me? If you answer correctly, I’ll give you my cock. If you fail, I’ll add another orgasm to the list.” You blink again in response, brain fuzzy. He grins. “Why don’t you tell me what a bad girl you’ve been these past few weeks?”

He slaps the inside of your thigh to jolt you out of your reverie. “I-I was a b-bad girl, Daddy.”

“Hm? And why’s that?”

“I ignored y-you,” you whisper as his hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “I cheered for S-Slytherin when I-I should have b-been c-c-cheering for Gryffindor.”

Your breath grows more shaky as Mark’s other hand inches towards your entrance again.

“And?”

“And I f-f-flirted with D-Donghyuck when I’m o-only s-s-supposed to have e-eyes for y-you, Daddy.”

“And?”

“And I charmed m-my clothes t-to tempt you.”

“Because?”

“Because I’m a whore.”

He smiles in contentment. “That’s right.”

Instead of pushing his fingers inside of you, you’re taken aback when the tip of his cock sinks into you. You moan loudly, not even noticing he had taken off his trousers.

“Fuck,” he curses, watching himself push into you. “Such a tight little cunt. Only for Daddy’s eyes, right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

His fingers find their way to your throat, curling and gripping your windpipe. You gasp and hear his sinister chuckle.

“There’s my little whore. Back in her place.”

He almost pushes you off the desk with the force of his thrusts. You have another small orgasm when Mark fully bottoms out, and he laughs when he realizes.

“Already? Looks like you’ve been just as desperate as me, baby.”

You’ve never taken more than three orgasms before. Since Hogwarts was a big school with many prying eyes, it was hard to get alone time with Mark like this. You often had to face the judgmental glares from the portraits whenever Mark fingered you behind one of the tapestries. Now that he has you all to himself, however, he intends to make the most out of it.

You’re pushing on the border of exhaustion, watching as your boyfriend continues to furiously push into you. He moves his hand from your throat to your cheek, slapping you once more to wake you up.

“Have to stay awake, baby. We still have two more to go.”

You mumble incoherently in response, past the point of comprehension. Once the tip of his cock rubs against your sweet spot, you cry out in pleasure. He grunts, angling himself so that he keeps hitting that spot inside of you. Over and over.

“M-Mark, I-“

“I know. Let me feel you, baby. Want to feel your cunt cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

You can’t begin to explain the tightening feeling in your stomach. You feel like you’re flying up to your peak at an unsteady rate. It almost feels like you need to use the bathroom, but before you can warn Mark, you fall apart.

You think you black out for a bit. You blink dazedly, body twitching and nervously moving on top of the desk. You get the strength to lift your head and check on Mark. His cock has slipped out of you, his gaze locked on your pussy.

“M-Mark?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, baby. You just squirted all over me.”

You gasp. You’ve never been able to squirt before and you eye the mess you’ve made all over Mark’s chest. He grunts, fingers pumping up and down his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck. How can you be so perfect?”

And then he’s pushing back into you. You scream loudly, still trying to recover from such an intense orgasm. You realize that you’ve started crying, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Perfect girl for me,” he hisses, hand returning to paw at your breast. “Cunt is so so sweet. Can never get enough of you. Just give me one more, baby. One more.”

You want to tell him you can’t, you’ve reached your limit and can’t push it any farther. You squeal when he pinches your clit.

“Daddy, please-“

“Daddy wants another, baby. One more for me.”

His thumb circles your clit while his cock pistons in and out of you. When he finds your sweet spot again, he doesn’t rest. He’s on a mission to get you to orgasm again, the same expression painted on his face from the Quidditch game just a hour ago. He’s determined to see you fall apart, filth spewing from his mouth.

“I wish I could take you like this every time. Push you up in the hallways, fuck you until you’re a sobbing mess for me. Having everyone watch while I make you squirt, showing them I can fuck you better than anyone else can. I bet they would all be jealous. They could never have you falling apart for them, begging for them to fill you up with their seed.”

It dawns on you that Mark still hasn’t cast a contraceptive charm of any kind. He seems to be on the same wavelength as you, digging his heels to the floor and thrusting harder at the thought of cumming inside you. The lewd sound of your wetness fills the room, along with his grunts and your whimpers from oversensitivity.

“I want to fuck you everywhere before we leave this place. Want you to ride me in the middle of the Quidditch pitch for everyone to see. Want all the Gryffindors to watch as their Head Boy plows into his girlfriend in the common room. Want you to bounce on my cock during every meal. Fuck, I want you so badly, baby.”

When you squirt this time, you’re coherent enough to watch it happen. Drops of your slick pour out of you, gushing onto Mark’s cock and the floor. The sound of his thighs slapping against yours only grows louder and wetter with your orgasm.

Mark hisses. “Want my cum, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you echo back to him, barely staying awake.

He groans when he reaches his high, pushing deep inside of you to empty his load. He cums more than you expected, but you suppose he’s been holding it in for weeks. He finally finishes a minute later, collapsing on top of you. He subconsciously places kisses on your neck.

“Never act up like that again. I don’t think I have the stamina to do another round.”

You giggle, about to respond when the booming voice of your Potions professor echoes throughout the room.

“Mark Lee! What on earth do you children think you’re doing? Fifty points from Gryffindor!”

[tommyspeakycap]

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

19

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."

[amphxtrite]

cedric diggory x fem!reader

part two: Dreamiest Boy in School.

warnings: smut, shower sex, swearing, oral (female receiving), masturbation.

If you are not comfortable please do not read.

summary: Cedric’s been in love with you for years. What will he do when he catches the reader moaning his name after a quidditch game in the prefect’s bathroom. Fluff at the end.

a/n: characters are 18+ and it is fully consensual.

word count: 4.2k

enjoy<3

__________________________________________

Cedric first met you in his fifth year when he’d first been appointed captain of the hufflepuff team, it was your first time trying out despite also being in your fifth, but it was no secret that it wasn’t your first time on the pitch. You were a natural, blocking quaffles with ease, letting none enter the goal. Your movements were smooth, elegant, but forceful, effectively getting the job done, but truly showing off the art of flying. Cedric had to forcibly pinch himself after you touched down. 

Today was a rough game against gryffindor, It went on much longer than it needed to with Ms. Pink Toad calling random people from the pitch and ‘hem hemming’ every time someone managed to score a goal. When Cedric had eventually caught the snitch, he had to deal with a ten minute long speech from Umbridge speaking of his bravery and strength, he cut it short after she began to run her hands over his face.

Now came Cedric’s favourite part of the game, his friends had already congratulated him on the win, but he was close by you and your friends as you touched down from the goal post. You were distributing high-fives to everyone, even throwing Cedric a quick thumbs up before running to your gym bag and taking a long sip from your water bottle. Here it comes, your pupils glance from side to side, scanning the area before grabbing the hem of your jersey to dab at the sweat running down your face. No one on the team cared you did this, but you still felt weird randomly pulling your jersey up to clean off your face. You did this after every practice and game, and although he didn’t mean to intrude Cedric found himself gazing at you often.

Cedric takes his bottom lip into his teeth as he looks to the grass beneath him, his thoughts running wild. He pictures what it would be like if he was the one pulling at your shirt, slowly pushing it up your gorgeous body as you beg him to take it off, rolling your hips desperately against his. The seeker’s pants were starting to get a little more constricting at the thought.

Ever since his first time seeing you at the pitch, he’d find himself thinking of you this way a lot. His name spilling from your lips, mouth agape, legs quivering. It kept him awake often, thinking about you. Imagining the feeling of your lips pressed to his as he rocked his hips in and out of you. He didn’t appreciate the sinful thoughts encasing his mind every time he saw you, it drove him insane. Any time you licked your lips, shook out your hair, smirked or even simply laughed, he’d have to excuse himself to rid of the heat from his face.

It was even worse the two of you had become close friends in the last two years, you were the person to help and train him for the triwizard tournament, working out with him often and supporting him through his challenges, also being his unofficial ‘date’ to the ball. You pushed him well, preparing him for the physical challenges that lay ahead in the contest, but only having his crush grow as you worked by his side and hugged him good luck. After he won, you were one of the first people he went to after his father. You had jumped into his arms and held him tight as he recounted the story of how Voldemort had stunned him and Harry had saved his life. Upon finishing  the story, you had kissed him on the cheek and whispered.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.”

He knew then that he was never going to let you go.

Cedric did his best to put your friendship first, reminding himself of your platonic status and your great history. He couldn’t jeopardize it all, even if he fancied you. Running himself a cold shower after stripping down his robes in the prefect’s bathroom, he tries to place his thoughts in a different headspace. He ignores his surroundings as he tries to rid himself of the dirty images, letting the cold water stream onto his face. It was practically useless, his mind drifted back to your lips pulled between your teeth or how your lips felt against his cheek after each hit of cold water. With one small thought, his arousal and need grows.

Sighing quietly and shutting the tap off, the hufflepuff head boy wraps a towel around his waist as he picks up his bag to begin getting changed. Halfway to zip open his bag, he can hear a shaky voice calling, not to far away.

“Oh f-fuck Ced.” 

Body immediately going rigid, the wide-eyed boy regains his train of thought and remembering where he is, glancing around the showers. The voice was so familiar, close.

So... dream-like. Sifting through his memories to match the voice, he thinks of people close to him that were also prefects or head girls, the only person to came to mind was you, but that was impossible. What were you doing saying his name so beautifully.

“Faster, please.” The voice rang out again in a softer mewl. The brunette’s cheeks light on fire as the voice finally registers in his ears, no doubt it was your soft cry. Despite his better judgment, Cedric needed to check this out. To make sure he wasn’t just imagining your voice begging for him.

As he approaches the shower he hears the voice from, he can hear a heavy pant and a shower getting louder. Standing before the closed curtain. His hand hovering over top the thin material, he mentally debates this, perhaps he was wrong. He might’ve misheard, and the he’d be barging in on a random girl. Pulling his hand away he turn to leave, but another moan perks his attention.

“F-fuck Cedric, I-I’m gonna c-cum.” A quivering whimper, cries his name again.

He’d heard you say his name about a million times, cheering him on, talking to him, laughing out his name. That was you inside, about to cum to his image.

Not able to take it anymore and he rips open the shower curtain, his cock springing up under the towel and pure desire taking over his senses. There you were, damp hair streaming down your shoulders, leaning against a wall with one hand on your breast and the other deep between your legs, pushing in and out at a rapid pace, practically sobbing for release.

“Are you masturbating?”

You barely register the soft question, but as your eyes open they instantly flash with horror and you immediately pull your hands away from your body, meeting gazes with a wide-eyed Cedric. A flood of embarrassment consumes you, he must have heard you. Merlin, you felt disgusting.

“Oh my gosh Cedric I’m so sorry!” You apologize frantically, rushing to grab your towel and cover yourself as tears of self-consciousness begin to well in your eyes. “I didn’t- I’m so sorry.” You try and push him out of your way, but Cedric will not let you pass, his grey eyes still staring holes into you. Agonizing seconds pass as he simply looks you down, your head swiveling around to look anywhere but his stoic gaze. 

Finally smirks in amusement, Cedric reaches over and takes your chin in between his fingers, forcing your head up to meet his eyes, you ready yourself for a lecture, or maybe screams, but it doesn’t come.

“I like the way you said my name.” Cedric teases, pushing you back into the running shower.

“Hands between your thighs and on your breast, were you thinking about this?” Cedric purrs, pushing you against the smooth wall and pressing his chest against yours, slowly rocking his hard on against your sensitive clit with the rough towel around his waist. 

“Imagining me taking you in the shower, fucking you against the wall and whispering dirty thoughts into your ear?” He continues in a low voice, continuing the gentle rock of his hips.

Your mouth drops open at Cedric’s reaction and the waves of pleasure clouding your senses. “Answer me.” Cedric growls, pushing harder against you and encasing you in his arms, his elbows by your head and his forearms against the wall. “Y-yes, I-I was.” your soft voice breathes out. “Yes, who?” Cedric grins, his eyes growing dark with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him. “Yes Cedric.” You moan as the toned hufflepuff continues to roll his hips slowly, an approving smirk spreading on his lips. 

 “You don’t know how long I’ve wished to do this love.” Cedric begins to nip at your neck, sucking and kissing around until he finds the spot that makes your breath hitch. You bite your lip to suppress the upcoming moan.

“Stop.” Cedric’s needy voice growls at you. “The only one who’ll be biting those lips is me.” He states, desire lacing every word.

Roughly pushing his lips against yours in a heated kiss, his warm tongue swirls around your mouth, drinking in your intoxicating taste and gliding his rough fingertips up and down your body, memorizing every curve before coming to rest on your hips. Your teeth clash, pleasure and heat travel to your core, fueling your arousal as a hard member prods at you from under Cedric’s dangerously low towel. 

“Besides, I want the whole castle to know you’re mine.” The grey-eyed hufflepuff bucks his hips into yours again making you squirm. “C-Cedric!” You cry out, wrapping your arms around his muscular shoulders and digging your nails into your champion’s back, the steam in the shower clouds your perception even more, all you could sense was Cedric’s body against yours, every muscle every scar. Cedric’s teasing lips pull up again as you begin to ramble.

“I-I need you.” you beg nervously, grinding your hips against the soaked material of Cedric’s towel.

“Would you like my fingers or my tongue love.” Cedric’s cool digits brush the inside of your thighs, you nearly jump at the feeling. “Both.” You manage to whimper out as Cedric’s hard stare bores into you.

“Dirty girl.” He smirks teasingly, his voice smooth as satin and dark as sin. “Beg for it.”

You could feel your arousal growing at Cedric’s words. You’d never seen him as the type to wish his partner to beg, but Merlin you weren’t complaining.

“Please Cedric, I need you. You make me feel so fucking good, please don’t stop, let the whole castle know who I belong to.” 

Your champion’s eyes go from a piercing grey to almost black as lust and arousal course through his veins. He slowly lowers himself to the ground, pressing kisses all the way down to where you needed him most. Cedric takes his time spreading your legs apart and kissing up your inner thighs and blowing on your clit, sending shockwaves up your trembling form. He looks back up at you as he leans forwards and licks a stripe through your folds and begins to swirl his tongue around your clit. Your thoughts run cold, all that consumes your mind was the ecstasy running through your veins, Cedric flicking his tongue around your sex, fucking you with his tongue and lapping hungrily at your sweet juices.

“Oh fuck Cedric, please don’t stop.” Your mewling voice begs needlingly, breathing heavily to keep yourself from falling over. 

Cedric smiles into you and slowly teases his fingers around your entrance, tracing along the edge of your slit before sinking two long digits into your wetness. spots flash in front of your eyes as your head falls back against the wall. Cedric pulls and pushes his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace, twisting them around and bending slightly as your walls grow tighter around him. He uses his body to keep your legs from doubling over in pleasure and continues to ravage you with both his tongue and fingers. flicking and sucking at your bundle of nerves while thrusting his fingers in and out of your core. A familiar knot begins to form and you dig your hand into Cedric’s damp hair, pulling him closer to you and desperately rocking your hips against his face, desperate for any more friction he could give you. Cedric chuckles at your moaning form. Sending even more delicious vibrations to your sensitive clit, as moans mix with longing cries of your lover’s name. Cedric pulls his mouth away, bringing himself to a standing position, still burying his fingers in you, replacing his tongue with his calloused thumb to massage your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“You don’t know what you do to me darling. How does it make you feel that you give me a hard-on every time you lift that shirt up to wipe your face? Every time you bite that gorgeous lip, or flip your hair you’d have me wanting to bend you over and fuck you senseless.”

You try and respond, but the pleasure Cedric was giving to you was all your mind could take. The sound of his fingers pounding into your wet core and Cedric’s deep pants were driving you insane. You can only moan in response and crash your lips against his again. You can taste yourself as Cedric dips his tongue against yours, nibbling on your lip and picking up his pace with his fingers. A familiar knot forms in your abdomen and you have to pull away from Cedric’s lips to moan and arch your back even more, you can feel your walls clenching tighter against the rough fingers pounding in and out of you.

All at once the knot snaps and waves upon waves of euphoria washes over you and consuming your vision in white. Crying out Cedric’s name over and over again, the brunette helps you ride out your high, continuing to pulse his fingers in your clenching hole and kneeling down again to lap up your juices as you moan out and rock your hips gently, Cedric’s cock begins to twitch like mad watching he waves of cum spill from your core, but he takes his time, savoring every drop of your sex.

Cedric is practically beaming with pride as he stands again, holding the back of your head in his large hand. 

“So sweet love.” He smirks, wiping a drop of your cum off of his bottom lip with his thumb and licking it off slowly, keeping direct eye contact with you. Your face was red, your legs quivering, and deep breaths sounding from your lips.

“I’m not done with you yet darling.” Cedric drops the towel from his waist and boxes you in his arms again.

“You won’t be able to walk when I’m through with you.” The toned seeker teases in a dark voice.

Feeling his length against your stomach you bite back a moan, fuck he was big. You were unsure what to do, but taking his twitching cock into your hand, you pump his length experimentally, receiving a soft moan in return. Picking up the pace, you spread the precum on his tip as a lubricant. Working your hand against him, he reconnects your lips, a soft whimper flowing from Cedric’s lips. You keep using your hand to pleasure your champion, but Cedric can’t take it anymore.

“I need to be inside of you darling.” Cedric rasps, reluctantly pulling your hand from his throbbing tip and wrapping his arms around you.

“jump.”

Without hesitation you leap up and wrap your legs around Cedric’s hips and he presses you against the wall for support.

“Ready Love?” Cedric smirks, his hands squeezing your ass and cock teasing your soft folds.

“Shut up and take me Diggory.”

Cedric wastes no time sinking into you, slowly at first, letting you adjust to his thick shaft, small grunts sounding from your lips as Cedric sink deeper.

“You’re taking me so well darling, f-fuck.” Cedric groans, sticking his head in the crook of your neck, nibbling on your sensitive skin and squeezing your hips.

Tears prick in your eyes as Cedric bottoms out in you, burying your hand in his wet brown curls you whimper at the feeling of being so full.

After a couple moments the pain turns to pleasure and you shimmy around motioning to Cedric it’s okay to move. The brunette begins to thrust in and out of you, slow at first, but soon finding a rhythm, pulling in and out of you in a quick pace, thrusting out to almost his tip before burying himself to the hilt inside you once again.

“Faster Cedric.” your pleading voice gasps and pleads.

Cedric obliges, snapping his hips back and forth to the point you see spots in your vision and you’re dragging your nails down your champions back. Cedric frantically presses his lips against yours again as he groans loudly. You swallow the moan in the kiss and cup your hands around Cedric’s defined jawline, pulling him closer and clenching your core in surprise as he pushes his thumb to your clit.

Your reaction pulls another breathy moan from Cedric, but his thrusts don’t stop. He continues to pound into you, his desire out weighing any tiredness that should’ve been.

Your loud moans only egg him on further. Your sinful, desperate pleas for more drive him insane. Arching your back and rolling your hips, Cedric pounds even further into you.

“Fuck Cedric, right there.” Your loud beg cries out and Cedric smirks, slamming his hips into your spot over and over again. Screams of pleasure and sighs of satisfaction fill the air. Wet sounds of skin on skin ring throughout the large bathroom as Cedric sinks deep into you with each needy thrust.

Parting your lips, another choked moan is pulled from your lips and your vision goes blank once again as your coil snaps and your grip tightens on Cedric. Your champion doesn’t stop, his thrusts are still merciless and needy, but as your slit clenches his cock in a tight hold, his thrust becomes lazier and he can feel his release coming soon.

“You make me feel so good Ced, I’ve had my hand in between my legs thinking about this for so long, o-oh fuck.” You moan in a teasing voice against the brunettes ear. You can feel Cedric’s upper body go rigid as he uses the last of his strength to snap his hips into yours like his life depended on it. Your dirty talk making him imagine your naked body lying on your bed, moaning out his name, probably only a hallway away from him. Years of lust and love fuel his next thrusts. Every time he’d painfully gotten hard because of you, every time he imagined you underneath him and making you scream his name in ecstasy was all coming true and groaning your name into the crook of your neck he snaps his hips in a desperate thrust one more time before releasing all over your tight walls, his body pulsing in euphoria sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being.

Your eyes roll back and your legs jolt at his powerful stream, thanking Merlin you had taken the potion to help with cramps not too long ago. You begin to roll your hips lazily to help Cedric ride out his orgasm, your core practically numb with pleasure and your entire body exhausted. Cedric is panting heavily, his hand buried in your hair and his other still supports your body. He gives your bum a small squeeze, your body still against the wall and his still pressed to yours in support, letting the warm water from the tap relax your tired muscles and wash the proof of your pleasures off of your legs, while still intimately connected.

Cedric smiles as he looks deep into your eyes, still panting heavily, but now with nervousness and a slight anxiety. He couldn’t keep his true feelings from you any longer.

“You know I love you right?” The hufflepuff head boy confesses, running a hand down the side of your face.

“I’d hope so, considering you just fucked me senseless.” You giggle and wrap your arms around Cedric’s toned shoulders. 

Your giggle dies down to a grin and a pink blush makes it’s way onto your face as you look down to see the two of you still connected

“I love you too.” You smile earnestly, a smile playing on your lips and you press a kiss to Cedric’s pink cheek. “I’ve loved you since those days in fifth year when I trained with you, you don’t know how relieved I was you survived, and with Umbridge around I thought I might never get the chance to confess.” Your emotions come through and Cedric has to blink the pure happiness from his eyes to respond.

“I’ve loved you since the moment you came rushing into my arms after the maze, I had a crush on you before, but i’ll never forget when you said those words, I knew I’d never let you go.” Cedric’s smile falters a bit as your stare drops to his lips.

“C-can I kiss you?” His face grows closer to yours.

“Didn’t ask for permission while you were cumming in me.” You tease, peppering kisses all around Cedric’s handsome features as his face grows hot in embarrassment.

“I-Is that a yes?” He murmurs hopefully, your soft lips trailing down his jawline.

You smile and press a kiss to the corner of Cedric’s mouth.

“As long as I can be your girl.” You giggle.

Cedric immediately pushes his lips to yours in a more delicate, but wanting kiss. Taking his time now to show you his adoration and care for you. The sounds of your lips molding together sounding through the large shower. Cedric runs his tongue through your mouth again, slowly this time, sighing at the taste of your after-game drink and the light taste of strawberry chap stick that remained on the inside your lips, begging to be found and appreciated.

As Cedric continues to ravage your mouth you run your hands up and down his chest and abs, taking deep breaths of his autumn like scent. Campfire, vanilla and honey were the most prominent, while his aftershave also offered a sharp, wood like smell.

“I love you y/n, so much. It would be an honor to have you as my girl.” Cedric sighs against your lips, placing one final peck before pulling away and grinning like a little kid. A smile begins to form on your face.

“Hey, did you think you could, you know.” You awkwardly motion down towards where you were still intertwined. “My legs are kid of sore.” Cedric’s eyes widen in realization and he nods frantically, apologies spilling from his lips as he slowly pulls out of you with a small ‘pop.’ Cedric lowers your feet to the ground and begins to back up, but the sudden weight removed from your body made your legs forget how to move and you crash into Cedric’s chest again.

Your legs felt numb and you couldn’t get them to move properly without falling. Cedric does his best to hide his pride as your lips pull into a frown, but a small smirk emerges as he bites his lip to stop it. He glances down and also notices the small purple love bites littering your neck and he almost beams.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself Ced, I can’t walk.” You roll your eyes at his useless attempt to stop his smile.

“I am, and I must say you look absolutely ravishing sporting my love bites darling.” He grins darkly, but a light chuckle breaks free.

“Alright let’s get you dressed, come on.” Cedric turns the tap off before leaning over again and catching your legs in his arms, carrying you bridal style out of shower, grabbing your towel and gym bag on the way out.

Placing you down on a bench, he grabs his own fluffy, white towel from his bag. Using it to pat your hair and body dry, making sure to get every inch of your body, and being careful around your intimate parts as you winced often. Grabbing another school-provided towel, he pats his upper-body dry before tying the cloth around his waist. Shaking out his damp hair, he grabs your bag and places it next to you.

“Do you think you can do it yourself darling?” His voice is filled with concern, but you nod and zip open your bag. Cedric turns to his own clothes and after tugging on a pair of boxers and sweatpants, wipes his hair dry before throwing on a t-shirt.

He turns to see you in a black sports bra, tugging on a pair of black tights, but unable to get them up your bum. Cedric smirks, walking over to you and pulling you up, holding you against him as a support while you finally get the leggings on. He sits you back down before pulling a jumper out of his bag and slipping it over your head.

The sweater seems to swallow you whole and it takes a moment to find the holes for your arms. You thank Cedric and sigh at being engulfed in Cedric’s sweet scent, pulling the jumper over your nose and smiling in content.

“You look better in my clothes than I do.” Cedric smirks happily, pulling you up again and interlocking your hands.

“Well in that case I guess I’ll keep it.” You grin, slipping on your sneakers and following Cedric out the prefect bathroom to the best of your abilities, having to stop often due to the aftershock of Cedric’s desperate pounding. Finally resorting to Cedric carrying you once again. Thankfully Dolores and her goons seemed to be missing from the scene.

Finally making it back to the hufflepuff common room, Cedric sneaks you into his dorm and closes the canopy around his four poster bed. Breathing out in content, The head boy cuddles you into his chest and wraps his arms around your torso.

“Can’t believe you’re actually here on my bed with me, I’ve only dreamt of this.” Cedric murmurs giddily, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your nose.

You snake your arms around Cedric’s broad chest and cuddle closer to him.

“I’m never letting you go, you know that.” Your champion teases, kissing your hairline.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure, closing your eyes tiredly and slowly drifting off, exhaustion from the day's activities getting to you.

Cedric peers down at you a happy smile resting on his lips as he too yawns and relaxes into his pillow. This day couldn’t have gone any better. He won the game, fucked you in the shower and now he’s cuddling you in his bed. His blush reappears onto his cheeks as your breathy moans engrave themselves into his brain, but pride takes over as he reminds himself it was him who made you moan like that. Peppering kisses on your forehead he finally closes his eyes and replays your evening with a small smirk.

This is my first time writing smut so tips would be appreciated!

[breezymichelle99]

Tape Job | Jamie Oleksiak

Summary: Two Words : Tape Job. Before the game Jamie was Taping his stick to get ready for the night and you catch him, realizing you've never been more turned on.

Warnings: Cursing. Fingering. Unprotected Public Sex. 

You had come early to the Arena with Jamie, so you guys could go out after the game and he didn’t want you to have to drive separate cars, so he snuck you in early. “I love you.” he whispers into your lips as he’s kissing you in the tunnel. “I love you more.” you whisper back. “Now go get ready for the game.” you giggle your hands on his chest giving him a little push trying to separate your lips from his.  He chuckles. “I’ll be thinking of nothing but those lips.” he says with a wink as he walks backwards down the tunnel towards the locker room still looking at you. You shake your head. “Better think about scoring some goals too.” you joke. He grabs his heart like you’ve just wounded him. “You got it beautiful. One Goal coming just for you.” he blew you a kiss and disappeared down the hallway. You chuckle. 

As time drew closer some fans finally began to file in and find their seats; no one was about to miss pregame warm-ups. You leaned against the boards as you watched the Players skate out and begin their typical rituals. Jamie was standing in the bench area talking with a few of the guys, his stick between his legs as he grabbed a roll of tape from the trainer and began to gently wrap it around the end. You swallow as you watch his long fingers ever so slowly wrap around it again and again as the tape begins to cover his stick. You begin to imagine those long fingers wandering about your delicate skin, teasing you, making you moan. You adjust in your seat desperately trying not to get too hot and bothered right here in the arena. Jamie looks up and catches you staring at him. He smirks. No idea that his innocent act getting ready for tonight's game had you practically wet in your seat. He watches as you lick your lips slowly, eyes laser focused on his long fingers and hands. “She’s gunna love this.”  he thinks to himself as he locks eyes with you as he tucks the tape between his lips and rips it off with his teeth.

You try not to gasp at the action but it was too hard not too. “Fuck.” you whisper quietly to yourself as you again adjust in your seat. This was going to be an incredibly long game and now you were incredibly horny. Jamie skated around the ice, practising some, and messing around with guys before game time, no idea what he had just done, setting a fire a blaze in you that wasn’t going to be quelled as easily as you’d hoped. 

After three excruciatingly long periods and Jamie scoring that goal that he promised, The Stars win the game. Jamie gives you the nod to meet him back by the locker room. You wait a few minutes before heading back to meet with him. You knew he wanted to go out tonight but all you wanted to do was get him back home and let him put those hands to good use. But you knew better than that, you knew he would make you suffer through a night out with your friends before he’d let you have any kind of action. 

You stood against the wall waiting for Jamie to come from the locker room. Your thoughts on those long fingers on your body making you moan his name. His lips interrupt your naughty thoughts. He pulls them away slowly, immediately noticing the little moan that catches in your throat. He smirks. You snapback to reality immediately. He chuckles. “Where did you go there babe?” he smiles.  You shake your head trying to focus away from your horny daze. “Nowhere babe i'm right here.” you say, his hand finding yours. “Yo Big Rig, Yall wanna come to Dinner with us?” Segs yells from somewhere behind you. 

You roll your eyes because you did not want to go to dinner, you wanted to go home and straight to bed with Jamie deep inside of you. Jamie looks at you looking for permission to have dinner with his teammates. And you knew your dirty plans we’re going to have to be put on hold, at least for now anyway. You give him a little Nod. he smirks. “Yeah we’re in.” he says to Segs. he squeezes your hand. You sigh. Now you’ll have no choice but to behave so you didn’t embarrass Jamie in front of his teammates. 

You get in the Car to meet your friends at the previously selected restaurant. Jamie looks over at you. “You okay babe?” he asks his free hand finding your thigh. You whine. Biting your bottom lip. He really was trying to make you misbehave tonight. He catches on quickly to you being overly sensitive to him tonight. “Umm.. yeah I'm fine babe.” you lie just trying to make it through this dinner without jumping him right in public. He raises an eyebrow at you, knowing you better than that.

“Babe?” He says, his tone is warm and flirty. You look at him with flirty eyes and he finally gets it.  Ohhhh I know what the problem is..” he says with a smirk, his long fingertips dancing across the delicate skin on your thigh. “It was the “Tape Job.” wasn’t it.” he smirks recalling you staring at him pregame when he was getting ready. You looked away from him and he knew it was true. He smiles. 

“The thought of my long fingers get you all hot and bothered, babe.” he whispers, his voice is low and rough and just about sends you over the edge. “Jame.” you whine. “Please.” you were almost at the restaurant and now he was teasing you. “Ohhh baby girl, I'm just getting started.” he whispers in your ear as he opens the passenger side door for you, kissing you immediately as you step out. “Jame, we’re with the team, let’s behave till we get home..Okay?” you beg. Even though you knew that’s not what you wanted either. He took your hand and gave you a playful smirk and you knew you were in trouble especially now since he knew your secret. 

The group of your friends and Jamie’s teammates gather around a huge table together. Everyone was laughing and drinking and carrying on like you always did when everyone got together. Jamie’s  warm hand slid under the table and onto your thigh you looked over at him through thick dark eyelashes, eyes filled with lust. “Jame.” your warning turns into a whine. His long fingers dancing ever so closer across your skin, just like you imagined they would when you saw him earlier today. Your breath hitches in your throat. Jamie leans over, nuzzling into your neck. “Shhh baby girl.” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine as you feel him move aside the light cotton fabric of your panties. Long delicate fingers gently stroking you, taking his time, making sure you don’t moan out loud. He’s casually lost in conversation with Miro, and you're trying your best not to let the entire team know just how close you and Jamie were.

Jamie’s gorgeous blue eyes locked with yours as he feels you try to close your legs around him. He shakes his head giving you a naughty smirk, you look away from his gaze as you feel him begin again, you feel that all too familiar feeling as your stomach begins to tighten. Your breathing becomes increasingly heavier as you try to stifle your moans. Jamie’s long fingers halt inside of you right as you are so close to getting what you wanted. You gasp. He smirks as they slide up your thigh again and dance across his lips. Fuck. that was sexy. You cross your legs desperately trying to calm yourself down. 

He scoots back in his chair. You can see his erection through his tight dress pants and you smirk. He wanted you to know that you weren't the only one turned on. You lick your lips. Two could play this game Mr. Oleksiak. The two of you look at each other, neither one really caring that you were in public or with your entire group of friends; both of you needing to douse the fire that was raging inside of you. You bite your lip as you slide your hand under the table now, knowing you were much better at keeping things quiet then Jamie would be, knowing he would give in much quicker than you.

Jamie Spreads his thick thighs apart, giving you room. You see him smirk out of the corner of your eye and you knew he was getting everything he wanted; you misbehaving in public with him.  You and Tyler Seguin’s girlfriend lost in conversation as you let your fingertips wander up Jamie’s thigh. You hear him swallow hard as you begin to slowly rub him through his dress pants. He adjusts in his seat again becoming uncontrollably antsy. You smirk. You knew him too well. He was dying not being able to touch you, feel your skin on his skin, be inside of you, feeling you move with him; bodies as one. You run your tongue slowly across your bottom lip, still focused on your conversation, allowing your hand to do all the work. Jamie becomes increasingly more unsettled as you rub him between fabric. He’s gritting his teeth now, and you know he’s doing the absolute best he can to keep from moaning out loud in front of his entire team. 

Roughly he grabs your wrist, halting you. You look at him. His gorgeous eyes begging you. You couldn’t help but smirk. “Please.” he mouths to you. You weren't sure if the please was a beg for you to stop teasing him or a beg for you to please let him fuck you. You smile either way. “Please excuse me.” you say getting up from the table as you excuse yourself to the restroom. Jamie watching you disappear. Eyes locked on each other, you wink at him in hopes that he will get the message and follow you if he wants to do something about this tension between the two of you. He gets the message. Leaving the table moments after you. 

 You’re in the restroom checking your makeup in the mirror when the door opens quietly, and you see Jamie in the Mirror. You gasp. “Jamie.” you giggle like you hadn’t begged him to follow you in here. “You Can’t be in here.” you flirt. “I can be anywhere I want and I'm about to be inside you.” he growls, taking over immediately. He double checks to make sure the door is locked before he puts you up on the sink, pushing your skirt up and your panties down. You fumble with his belt desperately trying to free him. He grabs your wrist roughly again stopping you, he didn’t have time to mess around and you knew this was going to be sloppy and rough but you both needed it so badly. 

He finishes undoing his belt and the zipper of his pants in basically one motion, pants sitting on his hips as he pulls his length from between the fabric, you reach between you once more palming him he groans loudly tossing his head back. “Fuck baby.” he whispers between gritted teeth, already tired of wasting time. You smirk as he slides you up on the sink adjusting himself at your entrance sliding into you gently. You wrap your legs around his hips pushing him deeper; both of you moaning aloud. One of  His large hands on the mirror behind you for support, the other on the back of your neck, as he thrusts in and out of you effortlessly, like you were made for him. 

Your nails grasping the fabric of his dress shirt as his thumb rubs circles over your clit between you now. “Fuck Jamie.” you call to him as his hips slow drawing out the pleasure between you. He always knew exactly what you needed. His lips capture yours instantly as he quickens the pace once more drawing you both closer to your release. Your head falls back as you reach your climax. Jamie watching you getting off on you getting off. “Fuck Babe, your so sexy when you cum for me.” His voice is deep and dirty as he cums deep inside you, thrusting his hips once more. Both of you moaning so loud you were pretty sure the entire restaurant could hear you. Your head falls to his chest as he slows inside you, pulling out moments later. 

You both take a second to clean up before heading back to your table. He kisses your lips slowly. “I fucking love you so much.” he says his long fingers pressing gently into the delicate skin of your neck as he presses you up against the door, like he was ready to fuck you again. You sigh about ready to let him. You bite his lip. “I love you too, naughty boy.” you whisper into his lips. He smirks. “Only for you.” he says “Better be.” you wink at him as he leaves you wanting more and heads back to the table. You follow behind but not too closely. Jamie walks to his seat, Tyler eyeing him as you return seconds later. 

“Yall feel better now?” Tyler asks, calling the pair of you out. “Excuse me?” you say blushing almost immediately. Jamie Smirking. “Yall act like we didn’t see yall eye fucking each other the whole night, and then you both mysteriously have to go pee at the same time, then you come back with your tie all undone and shirt untucked and your hair all mess, Oleksiak we weren’t born yesterday.” Tyler says with a big ass grin on his face. Finally glad he was able to give Jamie some shit after all the hell he had given him over the years. The pair of you can’t stop blushing, especially you. You knew that Jamie was proud of his conquest and would never be embarrassed to get caught fucking you in public.   

You all finish your dinner, behaving for the most part. Jamie is still unable to keep his eyes or his thoughts off of you, especially of you on the sink calling his name. He smirks. You catch him and you know exactly what he’s thinking about. You shake your head at him as he takes your hand; as the two of you follow your friends out of the restaurant, everyone laughs as Tyler continues to give you two a hard time. “Don’t worry Segs, one day Karma will get you.” Jamie Laughs as he opens the passenger side door of his truck for you. He’s met by your lips. “I love you.” you whisper. He groans in your mouth. “I love you, too beautiful.” he whispers into your lips, tongue colliding with yours. A moan escapes your mouth and he knew it was time to get you home. He pulls his lips away slowly, always leaving you wanting more. He gives you a little wink and you smile as he hops into the driver seat; left hand on the wheel right hand on your thigh. “I guess I’ll be needing to Tape my Stick every game, if that’s what it’s going to take to get you to Fuck me in public.” Jamie Laughs as you roll your eyes at him. “Moment of weakness.” you chuckle. The conversation remains light on the way home knowing that when you get there all bets were off and Jamie was going to make you pay for being such a dirty little girl in public.

[jellyluchi]

La Squadra x Gamer!Reader + spice

A/N: I’m not much of a gamer but I have been playing a few video games lately that gave me this idea. Edit: this was drafted mooonths ago when I was still playing Hades which I haven’t touched in a hot minute...

— Genre: nsfw, minors DNI

— Warnings: suggestive content, mentions of oral, fingering

Risotto

Tries to understand and play some of your video games if you decide to teach him, depending on the type of game he’s either really good or he sucks

Prefers to watch you play in either complete silence or let you talk and explain what the game is about

might ask you questions here and there because he’s a good boyfriend who takes interest in his partner’s fav hobbies!

enjoys relaxing decorative games or puzzle games the most. Also horror for aesthetics and good stories.

depending on whether he can tell if you’re in the mood (and yes he can tell) might tease you as you play

it starts with very light touches while you’re concentrating on the game and before you can even tell somehow you’re squirming!

very good at being stealthy when it comes to teasing his partners physically

might even use metallica to heighten your experience! your game is soon forgotten and you can’t remember if you beat the level or not

Prosciutto

Most likely to have you already on his lap when you’re playing if it’s his day off and he’s relaxing

a grandpa who won’t even try your video games unless you can somehow convince him with like.... a 45 slide power point on why he’d enjoy it, otherwise it’s just not to his taste

however, in the occasion that you do convince him, it’s truly a sight to see! This man is as intensely competitive as he is shit at games LOL (running in an fps looking at the ground with no camera control rip)

prone to giving up very fast unless you really walk him through it! Even then might not enjoy it unless it’s an interesting story or concept

will be more partial to games that tackle ethics and morals or are darker themed

But his favorite game is teasing you, you’re already on his lap and he loves giving you cuddles and if your having fun with your game why can’t he have fun with his?

It will be such a sensual and soothing experiencing you won’t realize when it even began before you’re panting a bit.

The best outcome is when you willingly leave your video games to go play with him instead

Pesci

Not big on gaming on his own but enjoys them very much when he plays, loves it if you invite him to play something!

Enjoys building and open world exploring type games the most (especially if the latter has some sort of fishing mini-game)

He likes to be creative with his building or wants to get immersed in some fantastical story

Is also chill with listening to you explain your games to him if he’s unfamiliar and loves watching you play

Now if you want some ‘video games and chill’ type situation you might have to be the one to initiate.

Whether it’s hinting at it verbally or physically he would need that confirmation

But once he knows what you want he’s not afraid to support you under the desk if you know what I mean.

Likes to hear your moans overpowering the video game music because it lets him know he’s doing a good job 

Formaggio

He’s already your video game buddy most likely, and he gets playfully competitive to boot

Likes FPS the most, especially if it’s multiplayer because that means he can go against you and keep score who got most kills

But if it’s a story based game he’ll goof off and sabotage missions on purpose to see how he can mess with the game (gfx, mechanics etc.)

Also just generally a fan of shooting things in game because it’s satisfying plus he has really good aim wit all his practice

when he’s not in the mood to play he’ll comment on your gaming and get close to rub your thighs slowly

if you don’t get the hint he’ll get bolder with his touches until they’re on your ass and interrupting your concentration

likes when you get frustrated from his touches and considers it a victory if you drop your game to make out with him

Likes to make bets like ‘if you score ___ I’ll dive between your legs’

Melone

Not partial to gaming but definitely has gaming experience, mostly with rhythm games rather than traditional console or PC ones

He really likes to know the details of games from you and can listen to you for hours explaining your favorite parts 

Gets into Sci-fi games the most, he loves the world building and the creative fictional technology that they come up with esp for space travel

His skills with the computer didn’t give him much gaming skills but it did allow him to get used to the controls quickly and he gets better with time

Touching you is something he’d rather do, even if its got an interesting concept because nothing is better than seeing you try to fight your moans

If you’re concentrated in gaming or explaining something he won’t interrupt you, but will invade your personal space till you get the hint

If you don’t, he will only inch closer till he’s touching you, first in innocent spots but eventually between your legs or your chest

Loves giving oral during gaming sessions, if you need support under the table he’s your man

Illuso

Never been much of a gamer but he loves to watch you play, especially when you get riled up. He’ll make lots of teasing comments about your gameplay to make you angry or irritated on purpose 

He pretends to look down on your gaming skills only because he knows the anger fuels your hormones

He gets bored quick when asked to play, is more into the avatar making section of the game than the actual game 

The type to run around in game going through the surrounding talking to random NPCs than actually playing 

His boredom from the games usually leads to other ideas, abandoning his console he, very sneakily, gets behind you. Like a snake he’s quickly wrapped around your body before you realize

You would only notice when he’s making quick work of your clothes, he’ll stop if you ask but if not, and usually you don’t, he’ll tease your inner thighs 

Doesn’t really putting his fingers between your legs unless you give him your undivided attention. If you whine, he just asks you what you want (may or may not give it to you depending on his mood) 

His goal is to make you sexually frustrated enough to abandon the game and let him finger you instead

Ghiaccio

A competitive gamer himself, you may find yourself actually challenged when playing with him. More likely to play FPS than the rest. 

He’s definitely vocal and focused when playing, comments on your every little move like you’re making the worst decision of your life 

Thinks bets are stupid (because he’s gonna win, obviously right?) and accept whatever challenge you throw at him 

Is super smug if he wins, but if he loses and you make him do something he hates he’ll be a sore loser and curse up a storm saying he’ll get you back for it 

Ghiaccio takes things at face value, he’s not going to think you’re here to fuck unless you actually say so (in which case he goes very red not realizing your intentions) 

If he’s particularly pent up though, he will wonder about the possibility of but won’t initiate it, you really have to be the one to rile him up well 

if you play your cards right, that is, letting him win, handling his attitude about it, getting him flustered enough, he will be open to letting you sucking him off, courtesy of winning the game 

the other much more fun route would be to win against him, tease him to hell and back and just saying “shut up and fuck me” in which case he will be more than happy to oblige after the stunt you pulled when playing 

Sorbet & Gelato

These two are actually pretty accustomed to old consoles such as the n64, having had grown up during it’s time however you will still have to help them navigate any gaming interface properly 

Most likely not used to PC gaming just yet but it’s terribly fun to have them watch especially if you’re playing horror and Gelato delights in the jumpscares while Sorbet really has no reaction 

Very much likes the morbid games psychological horrors with gore, their favorite characters are always the unhinged ones 

They’re both prone to comment if they’re playing themselves and it’s fun to watch as they’re barely phased by the atmosphere or general horrors of the game

Neither of them have much fun just observing you play your game, it’s more likely Gelato will get bored and whisper something lewd into Sorbet’s ear who smirks and they move into action

The plan is simple, they just want to see you squirm, won’t it be so much more fun to play if you’re taking Gelato from behind while Sorbet goes down your throat? 

Sure, in that case you’d be in no position to play by yourself but in perfect position for them to play with their little plaything

they’re really not much for subtlety and two of them and one of you, it doesn’t take much convincing nor man power to get you on your knees. 

[13uswntimagines]

Never Enough (Kristie Mewis x Reader)

Request: mal x little sister!reader where the reader is always hidden behind mal's shadow

Author’s Note: So I really hope you like this (though it deviated slightly from the Request) and good luck to everyone starting their next semester of college!!

Pt. 2

You drummed your fingers absentmindedly on the table in front of you, your knees bouncing rapidly. You had just won the challenge cup (proving to the world that Huston wasn’t just the land of broken toys), the last thing you wanted to do was a press conference, but coach had insisted. At least you had Kristi with you.

She had taken you under her wing the second you had been transferred to Huston, becoming your best friend (though your feelings were more than friendly). She understood what it felt like to be overshadowed and could more easily grasp the fiasco that was Jill Ellis in charge of a roster.

Her hand grasped your thigh, halting its movement, and continuing on with the rest of the vapid reporters’ question without so much as a blink.

You probably should have been paying attention to whatever the fuck the reporters were asking, but honestly sitting back and letting the vet field the question so you could watch her answer was so much more your speed.

They didn’t want to ask you about soccer anyway, they wanted sister drama and you weren’t in the mood to indulge them.

You loved your older sister. You were adamant about that, but you didn’t always like her. You and Mal had never really gotten along, even as children. You were 3 years younger than her, always chasing after her, and always falling short. You had come so close, only to have it all ripped away.

****

3 weeks before the start of the World Cup

You glared at your packed suitcase, fighting the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. Your fingers clenching and unclenching in a desperate attempt to keep your opportunity from slipping through your fingertips again.

You could still hear coaches' words ringing in your head. You weren’t living up to your last name, you weren’t good enough to wear it for your country.

You shook your head, retiring your attention to your very excited sister (who appeared to be completely oblivious to your distress). Mal and you were polar opposites. She was bubbly while you were shy. She had made it to UCLA while you had barely gotten into Texas A&M.

She paused in front of you, holding 2 celebration outfits for you to choose from in her hands.

“Cheer up, I’m going to the World Cup and your mopeyness is killing my mood,” She scoffed. You had been sulking since you came back from your meeting with coach, and while it was probably hard for you to be excluded, you should be happy that she was gonna get to live out one of her lifelong dreams.

You smiled weekly up at the woman “And I’m going back to Huston to watch you,” you blinked and pointed to the backless dress on the left, swallowing down the comment about how Jill’s teardown of your career had killed your mood too. “That one, Rosie likes you in blue,”

Mal rolled her eyes. She could practically hear your lamenting in her head. Enough was enough. This wasn’t about you, it was about the team. it was about being happy for others even when you didn’t get your way. “So, you weren’t good enough. You want us to win right?”

You shrugged, scratching the back of your neck. Of course, you wanted the team to win, but you had hoped that you would get the chance to help them in France. To have it taken just days before they left hurt more than you could put into words, all because you weren’t as good as your sister. “She said she could only take one of us and she chose you. It stings just a little bit,”

Mal gave you a scathing look. It was annoying how you were always doing what she was doing, how you were always running after her and her friends. She wasn’t happy when you started to play soccer, cause it was her thing. She was excited that the World Cup was going to be her thing. She didn’t want to share it with you, and she didn’t care how immature that sounded.

“Look, I’m a better fit for the squad, and for once in my life I wanna do something without you. Anyway, I’m going to celebrate, don’t wait up,”

The door slammed as she left, and it reverberated through you like the final nail in a coffin. How could she be so cold towards you? How could she agree with Jill? You sniffled once, burying yourself under a pile of blankets, your tears your only company.

****

“Y/n, my next question is for you,” A different reporter said when Kristie finished answering, pulling you back to reality. You sat up in your chair, blinking owlishly at the reporter.

“Oh, um go for it I guess,” You smiled shyly at the reporter, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Kristie squeezed your thigh when it began to bounce again. You blushed, more from the contact than from being caught daydreaming.

“First, congratulations on the win and being named tournament MVP,” The reporter smiled, and you nodded at her, the red that colored your cheeks making its way up to your ears. Kristie squeezed your leg again, and you brought your fingers down to tangle with hers.

“How did it feel to really get to show off in front of Vlatko Andonovski,” The reporter asked.

You let out a deep breath, buzzing your lips. How did you feel? You had scored 13 goals and brought the underdog team to victory. You didn’t just show off, you had implemented all the things he wanted you too when he called you up for a camp before the Shebelieves cup.

“Good, I felt good at camp, so it was really nice to get to show him how I’ve improved in the last few months while we’ve been quarantined,” You smiled, glancing at Kristie as she began to rub her thumb on the back of your hand comfortingly.

She was nervous when you got called to camp again. Terrified that they would crush you like they had before. Terrified that she wouldn’t be there to help you through the fallout of seeing your sister again for the first time in months.

*****

“You sure you have everything?” The blond midfielder asked for the 15th time since you entered the airport. You smiled softly at the woman, who was shifting foot to foot, bringing your joined hands up to kiss the back of her buckles.“Yeah,” You nodded,  glancing over her shoulder to the taller Mewis sister, who also nodded that you both had everything.

“And you’ll text me when you land and get to the hotel?” Kristie asked, pulling you to a stop and forcing you to face her. You Y/e/c orbs met her worried blue ones.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, pulling the woman into you and tucking your head into the crook of her neck.“Yes, mom. I promise. Now give me a hug,”

She huffed, but still wrapped around you tightly and placed a kiss on the crown of your head. “I just care about you kid,”

“I know, and I love you for it,” You mumbled, into your favorite hiding spot. “now I’m gonna go get a coffee before I pass out,” You kissed her cheek before heading off towards the crappy airport Starbucks. She watched you go, fingers twitching by her side. How she wished to tell you that she loved you too (probably in a much different way than you loved her, but still).

“You’ve got it bad,” Sam snorted, patting her sister’s shoulder. She was visiting Kristie, so it was easier for her to get a flight out of Huston anyway, and in the time of her visit, her sister’s feelings for you had become abundantly clear.

She was glad that you had a shoulder to lean on. someone to confide in after your fallout with Mal. Though she had had several words with the younger player, the woman couldn’t seem to grasp your pain. At least her sister could understand it better than anyone, and she was clearly helping you overcome it.

Kristie blushed, shrugging slightly. “Maybe a little,” she hummed. It was hard not too. You were actually quite adorable once you let your walls come down.

Sam smirked (how she didn’t know you felt the same way, Sam would never know) “Does she know?”

The older mewis’s lips formed a thin line and she shook her head “no,”

It was complicated. The two of you were roommates, and you were just beginning to pull yourself together in the wake of Jill Ellis destroying your self-esteem.

She watched you grab your coffee, smiling at the young man behind the counter (who blushed). You had this incredible ability to light up everyone around you, like the sun. Though over the years you had lost some of your sunshine, you were beginning to gain it back. She didn’t want you to lose it again.

“Just keep an eye on her for me, alright? She was really messed up after what happened at the last camp,” Kristie said softly, faintly tearing her eyes away to look at her younger sister.

Sam nodded solemnly. “You know I will Kris,”

She knew how much you meant to her sister, and she would help you through whatever this camp brought, even if that meant keeping one of her best friends in line.

****

“My question is also for you Y/n,” A different reporter said, and you tilted your chin up at him in acknowledgment.

“We know that Mal is currently out with a knee injury, any idea on when she’ll be back with her team, and if that impacts your chances with Vlatko?” He asked, scribbling furiously on a notepad in front of him.

You tilted your head to the side, almost like a puppy. You weren’t abreast to Vlatkos’ plans (only that he seemed to be more attuned and aware than one Jill Ellis), and considering you hadn’t spoken to Mal in months, you were also clueless on her progress.

“Oh um, I have no idea about either of those questions, sorry,” You mumbled, biting your lip and shifting awkwardly in your chair. The man frowned at your answer, his pen pausing on the pad as he studied you over his horned rimmed glasses.

“Do you think you could beat her out for an Olympic roster spot? And if your success here will help your chances of taking her spot on the team?” He tried again, pointing his pen in your direction. Kristie’s thumb tapped the back of your hand again, three little taps, helping you focus and giving you a little bit of comfort.

You smirked at the man, masking your irritation behind a quip. “Again, I have no clue. That stuff is way above my paygrade,”

Kristie’s hand tightened around yours in warning, a reminder that biting a reporter’s head off wouldn’t make you feel better. It wouldn’t make them see that you didn’t want to be compared. It would just give them more ammunition to shoot at you.

“Do you feel overlooked, as you’ve continuously performed better than your sister within the NWSL?” A different reporter pipped in, looking at you expectantly.

You shrugged, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly come over the press tent. “Well, I think my average is helped by me not having to miss games due to national team duties,”

You swore a few of the reporter’s lips ticked up, and the pat on your thigh told you that your midfielder counterpart was pleased with the deflection.

“Do you think you’ll continue to be able to live up to your last name?” The horned rimmed man asked a vicious smirk etched on his face. You flinched slightly.

It was the one fear that plagued you. The one shortcoming that your parents preyed on. That you would never be as good as your sister. That you would never be the Pugh that she was. That you were undeserving of the name.

Kirstie’s arm was around you immediately, shielding your opening and closing mouth from the furiously clicking cameras as she pulled you to stand.

“I think this press conference is over. We’re very excited to have won and it’s time for us to celebrate,” She said stiffly, practically dragging your frozen form through the door towards your locker room.

You stumbled after her, eyes wide as you tried to catch up to what was happening. Your brain was still split between its lament over his you’d never escape your sister’s shadow (no matter how hard you tried) and the feeling of your crush’s arm wrapped tightly around you. It made you feel safe and warm and wanted. She made you feel like you had a place beside her, like how you were feeling was important.

She paused, pinning you against the cool cement wall of the stadium. You stared over her shoulder, adamantly refusing to look her in the eyes. You didn’t want her to see your inner struggle, to know that despite all her efforts, you still weren’t confident that you could ever be good enough.

“Hey, look at me.” She said, a finger on your chin forcing you to look up. Her blue eyes studied you for a moment, her hips pressing you to the wall while her other hand brushed a stray hair out of your face. “Are you ok?” She asked, her voice soft, hesitant.

“I’m great,” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I just fucking won the fucking Chaos cup and all the fuck they want to ask me about is how my sister is, and if I think I stand a chance against her in making a fucking roster. She hasn’t even talked to me since-...” your chest heaved as the words spilled from your mouth, like the steam from a pressure cooker unable to be contained any longer.

“Hey, take a breath,” her voice was soft as she wiped away the tears you didn’t even know were burning a path down your red cheeks. You leaned into her warm hands.

“I just. I want to be good enough,” You mumbled, your eyes closing with the admission. You didn’t want to be weak.

“Baby, you are enough. You’re more than enough. You’re funny and cute and an amazing forward. You aren’t your sister and that’s ok. You don’t need to be the best Mal, you just need to be the best, most amazing you you can be because I love you,” with every word she got closer to you, until your faces were mere inches apart, and you could feel her breath fan across your lips.

You leaned in the rest of the way and connected your lips with hers. Your mouths moved together, her tongue gently probing for entrance, which you gladly gave her. Her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the base of your neck, while yours settled on her hips to pull her closer.

“You said you love me,” You smiled against her lips, pulling away when the need to breathe finally caught up with you.

“Hm, I do,” She hummed back, connecting your lips again.

Maybe to the soccer world, you would always stand in Mal’s shadows, but here in the belly of the stadium, you knew. You were enough for Kristie, and she was enough for you.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Quiet- Oliver Wood x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Summary: You have been the chaser for the Gryffindor quidditch team for about a year now and were what everyone would call a ‘quiet brute’ you were fast and silent. For the past year both you and Oliver grew feelings for each other, but Oliver didn’t think you had felt the same. Until one day when Slytherin cheats during a match and you reveal why you have been quiet for so long

   Kody: Let’s see if i can capture the Oliver Wood we know. i’m am also fully aware that the timing will not fit in well, but it’s fanfiction so like lmao. I watched every single quidditch scene for this bullshit lol and i still don’t get it so bare with me please. 

   House: Gryffindor

   Possible Triggers / Warnings: cursing, Marcus Flint, Slytherin slander, (jkjkjk) a smidge of angst

   ☼-☪-☼

   Tap!

   Tap!

   Tap!

   you open your eyes and snap your head towards the sound. Eyes stopping your window. An owl was tapping its beak against the glass pane. It was so early, who would send a letter this early? Sitting up from the bed and throwing your legs off, you walk towards the feathery companion. 

   reaching for the latch, you unhook and push it open. The owl stepped off of your windowsill and onto the desk right under the ledge. You plop down onto the seat and reach for the letter in its mouth. The owl drops the letter in your hand. You rip off the wax seal and grab the folded piece of paper in the envelope.

   unfolding it you see a familiar name written at the bottom ‘Oliver Wood’ the captain of your quidditch team. The wizard you had known for a year and had a small- well large infatuation with.  You cracked a small smile before reading the contents of the letter. 

   ‘Dear Y/n, since we are playing against Slytherin tomorrow and they are our biggest rivals i want add an early morning practice today, hence the letter now. This extra training will help, i promise. Once you receive this letter head to the Gryffindor common room. With l- Sincerely Oliver.’

   you sigh deeply. Not being a morning person meant you hated getting up early in general, but you couldn’t do much about it. So you go over to your dresser and grabbed some clothes suitable to practice in. It’s been cold outside recently so you needed to cover up. 

   you slip on your quidditch sweater that had your number and name on the back, your black quidditch pants, and your gloves as well. As you lace up your boots you sit on your bed so you wouldn’t fall over. Once you were finished you stand up straight, reaching for your wand on your nightstand.

   you slip it into your belt loop even though you plan on putting it in the locker that was in the changing rooms later anyway. Once your all set you open your dorm room door and make your way down the hall, passing a couple girls that unfortunately woke up as early as you. 

   as you reached the common room you saw your whole team sitting on the sofas or standing up. Angelina was the first to notice your presence “Y/n’s here. That’s all of us” she says, standing up from the couch. All eyes turn to look at you, making you advert your gaze to the fireplace. 

   lifting up your hand for a second, basically an introverted wave. “Not a morning person aye L/n?” Fred asks, pushing off the wall he was leaning on. You didn’t say anything and just shrug your shoulders in reply. “Alright, let’s head out” your captain, Oliver said, gesturing with his hand to the door. 

   the team replies with okays and such and you all begin to leave the common room. You let most of them walk out so you can be in the back, mostly so no one would try and talk to you. It was too early and you were too cranky for conversation right now- or ever really.

    ☼-☪-☼

   as you all walked the halls, you didn’t notice the certain scottish boy slowly falling behind until he was standing next to you. You only noticed when he suddenly spoke “Sleep well?” he asked. You turn your head to look at him for a split second before back the other direction “Fine”

   he nods once. You didn’t really give him much to go off of. Oliver made you more nervous than other people did, probably because of the crush you had on him. If only you knew he was exactly the same. “That’s good. Are you nervous about tomorrow's match? I sure know i am” 

   you shrug your shoulders once, not really knowing how to answer “A little.” you say, looking forward. You all were nearing the field now and everyone was going into the male and female locker rooms to get there brooms and such. Oliver was about to follow the other guys when you spoke again.

   “I wouldn’t worry much, your a skilled keeper” you say, E/c eyes focused on your fingerless gloves on your hands. Before he could get a word in you follow Katie Bell into the locker rooms, leaving Oliver dumbfounded by your words. “Aw look at the young love. If only you weren’t a nervous wreck right?”

   Oliver heard both twins snicker and laugh, causing him to become flustered “Both of you get your brooms” he snaps, before pushing pas the two of them. 

    ☼-☪-☼

    morning practice went well that day as well as afternoon practice. You were actually excited for the game tomorrow, which was a first. Maybe it’s because you wanted to see the look of despair as your team own the match. Either way, you couldn’t wait for the match to start

    “Welcome back everyone to another exciting day of quidditch! Today Gryffindor is going against Slytherin for this seasons quidditch cup! Both teams are currently tied, so this game will for sure see who is the superior team! Now, let’s welcome our teams. First Slytherin!”

   Lee Jordan’s voice boomed through the mic as the Slytherins roared for there team. You watched from the ground as the Slytherin team flew onto the field, throwing their hands in the air. You took a deep breath as they took positions “Alright we're up next guys. Mount your brooms!”

   Oliver shouts before mounting his own broom, all of you doing the same. “Let’s welcome our Gryffindors!” Lee shouts and all of you took off into the air, making your way up. You stopped in front of the Slytherin team and assumed correct positions as Madam Hooch stands on the ground below us

   “I want a clean match, ya hear me!? No magic and no wands, understood!?” she spoke, looking at both teams. Some of us nod while others just blink mindlessly. Madam Hooch kicks he box and the snitch and bludger are released. After a couple of seconds, she lifts up the quaffle from the box and holds it up.

   you tighten your grip on your broom, ready to launch at the quaffle once she throws it. Hooch smiles before tossing the quaffle in the air, causing Lee to shout once more “And let the games begin!” you and Angelina dove in to grab the quaffle while Katie drew back, just in case it was tossed outside the ‘kill circle’ that was happening at the moment. 

   a Slytherin chaser managed to get ahold of it, so Katie flew after her. Katie catches up to her and pushes the quaffle from under her arm, causing her to drop it. You could see it fall a few feet in front of you and took that chance to attempt to catch it. 

   you hold out your hand and grab the quaffle “Yes!” you say excitedly to yourself before beginning to make your way to the hoops where the slytherin keeper awaited for you, Miles Bletchley. You throw the quaffle towards the hoop and it completely misses miles and went straight in.

   “Y/n L/n scores ten points for Gryffindor!” Lee annonces, as the Gryffindors cheered your name while the Slytherin booed. Typical. You fly back as the quaffle lands in the middle again, this time Angelina goes after it.

    ☼-☪-☼

   after about an eternity of playing, both teams were tied with 140 points each. Harry and Draco have been unable to catch snitch. It was exhausting, but you seemed to be going strong. That was until you saw Marcus Flint with the quaffle. He was heading towards your goal.

   you see that Katie and Angelina are to busy being bombarded with bludger so you chased after Marcus. As you did so you watched as he uses his free hand to reach into his robe and grab his wand, he had most of it covered by his robe but you know what you saw. 

   Oliver, who was at the goal and ready to deflect Marcus’s throw was suddenly thrown back into the hoop and hit the metal bar. Marcus takes the opportunity to throw the quaffle into the hoop and scores “Another ten points for Slytherin and that’s 150 points. Slytherin wins!”

   you feel your heart drop as Slytherin erupts in victorious cheers. It was almost as if you were on autopilot as you flew down to meet your team. All of you watched as the Slytherin team high hived each other. What a bunch of bloody cheaters. 

   “I swore i had that. This is all my fault” Oliver spoke, his face dropped into a sad expression. You feel as if you had been punched in the gut, your fists balling in anger. You drop your broom and shrug off your robe “Hey Flint!” you shout, catching his attention as well as his teammates.

   “Well if it isn’t Gryffindor’s chaser. Came to congratulate us? How sweet” he holds his hand over his heart in mock sympathy and you swore you saw red. “Drop the act Flint. I know you cheated! I saw you pull out a wand! Which is against the rules!”

   the shouting seemed to draw in Madam Hooch as well as a couple or Professors that were leaving the stands “What’s this shouting all about!” she says, placing her hands on her hips “Marcus Flint used a jinx on Oliver to win! I saw it! He has his wand in his robe!”

   your teammates stood behind you, shocked by your outbursts. You only spoke about three words at a time and you were always so neutral. It was strange to say the least as you were fuming with anger. “I did not cheat! Your just being a sore loser and a bitch!” Marcus yelled back at you. 

   “What did he say!?”Oliver shouts, ready to knock Marcus out, but Fred and George hold him back. “Mr. Flint! There is no need for that language, now empty your pockets this instant!” Madam Hooch points to his robes as he turns a shade of white.

    “B-But i didn’t do anything! She’s spewing nonsense just because her captain is incompetent!” Marcus blurts out as a last attempt. Oh he did not. “Listen here you sack of shit! Oliver is the best captain and just person in general that i’ve ever met. So much so that you had to cheat just to win!”

   everyone is stunned into silence as you yelled, venom lacing each and everyone of your words. “Now Mr. Flint!” Madam Hooch repeats and you watch as Marcus pulls out his wand and hands it to her. She looks disappointed and shakes her head solemnly.

   “What a disgrace to quidditch. Marcus Flint, you are hereby removed from the quidditch team and will serve two months in detention. Also, Gryffindor wins!” she shouts and all the Gryffindor students who remained shouted in happiness now they had gotten their rightful win. 

     Marcus crosses his arms and mutters another insult towards you. You walk up to him and punch him straight in the nose, causing him to fall back. With that, you walk off the field. You needed to calm down and couldn’t do it with all those people around shouting and yelling.

    ☼-☪-☼

   you had avoided your team for the rest of the day, shameful of your outburst. You wondered if you would get in trouble for punching Marcus and the fact that you told half the school you thought Oliver Wood was the best person in the world, either way. You were fucked. 

   you were now making your way to your dorm so you could cram in some studying before bed. You wore a white t-shirt, a red and white flannel as well as baggy blue jeans. As you opened the door of your dorm a flash of light causes you to stumble abit as well as a bunch of colored paper? oh confetti. 

   “Thank you Y/n!” you hear multiple people yell. You quickly decipher each one as one of your teammates. As your vision cleared you saw Fred and George holding up a banner that said ‘Y/n is the best’ Angelina and Katie were holding baskets that were filled to the top with sweets. 

   Harry was holding a case of butterbeer with a kind smile on his face. Last. but not least Oliver stood in the middle with a bouquet of flowers. you felt your heart race a little more when your eyes met “Um- Hi” you spoke shyly and began to fiddle with the sleeve of your flannel. 

   “You didn’t tell us you had that fire in you Y/n!” George shouts out of nowhere, his twin nodding in agreement “Wicked” Fred says in agreement. You just shrugged your shoulders “Uh- Thanks?” you said, unsure of what the both of them meant. 

   “yeah, you definitely put Marcus Flint in his place. Even Draco Malfoy apologized to us. It was insane, you should of been there!” Angelina exclaims, placing her basket of sweets on the ground of your room “You avoided us yesterday, why?” Katie asked, everyone's heads perking up.

   you sigh deeply and figured you owed them some sort of explanation “I’m just really socially awkward i guess. My uh- my parents died when i was like nine in some freak potions accident with Luna Lovegood’s mom. So Xenophilius Lovegood took me in. I was mute for awhile, so talking is just hard i suppose?”

   the girls faces drop as well as Olivers. Who knew your silence came with such a dark reason. “Sorry- did i ruin the mood?” you ask and they all immediately shake their heads “No, of course not! Anyway, we wanted to thank you for calling Marcus out and basically handing us the win.” Oliver spoke, taking a step towards you.

   “Also for sticking up for me. I appreciate it” He adds and you feel a familiar warmth invade your stomach harshly. Oliver hands you the bunch of poppies and you tilt your curiously “There fake?” you question and he nods once “I know your allergic to pollen” he says, which makes your heart skip a couple beats.

   you remember mentioning that you were allergic to pollen when you first met. He remembered after all this time? A cough interrupted the both of you and you look to see Fred double fisting butterbeers “Enough of that love shit, lets just hang out”

   your team burst out in laughter as both you and Oliver looked away from each other in embarrassment. Stupid Fred.  

       ☼-☪-☼

    a couple hours later Angelina was passed out on top of Katie on the floor, they had all brought sleeping bags apparently. This was very planned. Harry was laying on a beanbag chair with a blanket over him and marker on his face. George and Fred’s idea. 

   speaking of the twins they both were laying on the floor next to the trunk at the end of your bed, sweet wrappers surrounded them. You and Oliver had yet to fall asleep yet. You had actually opened up a bit and enjoyed talking to him. The more you talked, the more you fell for him really. 

   during the little ‘party’ your team had you all changed into different clothes (in their own dorms of course) so you were now wearing a black muggle t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Oliver was wearing his quidditch jersey and black sweatpants. He looked- well...hot.

   “You know Y/n. I can stop thinking about how you said i was the best person you knew” you inhale sharply and lean back onto your pillows, since you were both sitting on your bed “Yeah?” you question, afraid to say anything more. Oliver sits up straight, eyes boring into you. 

   “I think your the best person i know” he says confidently, reaching for your hand. He grabs it and runs the pad of his thumb over your skin. “Yeah?” you repeated once more. He snorts and looks down at the bedsheets for a moment before looking back at you “I’m trying to say i like you Y/n, like a lot”

   say what now? Oliver Wood. The guy who you thought barely noticed you just said he had feelings for you. Like earlier, your brain ran on autopilot “Yeah?...” you say a third time. Oliver rolls his eyes before leaning into kiss you gently, hands cupping your face and leaving room for you to push him away. 

   up close he smelt like fresh cut wood- like from a broomstick. That made sense actually. You snapped back to reality and hesitantly reach up to place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Oliver responds and places one hand on your waist.

   he lays you back against the bed and hovers over you, breaking the kiss. You look at him with a flushed expression “I like you too- you said it earlier so i felt like i should say it now...before anything else happens” you spoke quickly and quietly. 

   Oliver raises a brow in amusement “Anything else? Who knew you could think so dirty Y/n” he says in a teasing tone. You shake your head “What- no that’s not what i meant” your sentence trails off into a mumble. He chuckles quietly “I know” he said, going into kiss you again.

   “Can you guys not shag up, were right here” when did Fred wake up?

   “Yeah, be respectful to others around you” and there goes George.

   you watched as Oliver’s eye twitched in irritation “Both of shut up and go back to sleep. We are not shagging up” he says and they both mumble an okay. He lays back against the bed, turning on his side to face you “I think we should sleep as well, you don’t mind me sleeping here right?”

   you shake your head, not minding him there. He smiles lightly before reaching down to the grab the sheet. He pulled it over both of you. You go to scooch away to the other side when he wraps an arm around and pulls your back against his chest “You can’t get away that easily, lass” he whispered.

   you held back a small laugh before getting comfortable in the Captain's arms. “Night Y/n” he spoke quietly before placing a kiss to the back of your head. “Goodnight Oliver” you said back and used your wand to turn out the lights before closing your eyes.

   and with that. You fell asleep. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: I call these group of idiots the chaotic Gryffindor quidditch team. Anyways, peace. 

[hookingminor]

certified freak - pierre-luc dubois

a/n: there’s some whores in this house (it’s me, I'm the whore for pld) this is pure smut just imagine that covid isn’t a thing ok sorry it’s also not proofread hope u enjoy! like always feel free to leave me comments and lmk ur thoughts! yes this is loosely based on wap (bc that song was written for him)

word count: 2.7k

warnings (18+): slight daddy kink, light bdsm/choking, pld spitting in your mouth (god I fucking wish)

-

The deal was this: if Pierre got a hat trick, you allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you (not that this was much different from any other time.) In the rare event of a dick trick, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted for a week.

Tonight he’d had a hat trick. And during the qualifying round for playoffs. And for the game winning goal. To say he was excited to come home to you after the game was an understatement.

In fact, it was all he could think about as he changed out of his pads and got ready for the post-game interviews. It was also all you could think about as you watched him score in overtime.

Knowing he would be busy for a little while after the game considering he was the First Star of the night, Pierre sent you a text as he got dressed.

I want you in nothing but my jersey when I get home

Your pussy fluttered at the message, your cheeks heating instantly when you read it. A few other girls asked if you were going out with them afterwards, but they all knew what you really meant when you said you just planned on celebrating alone with Pierre.

You left the arena soon after the game ended, and it took you nearly forty-five minutes just to get out of the parking garages. When you got back to your apartment, you checked your phone for Blue Jackets updates and watched a few of Pierre’s videos.

A lot of the questions centered around him, being as performed so well, but you were shocked at his coy replies to reporters.

“You’re now one game away from clinching a spot in the playoffs. Are you going to celebrate tonight or wait until you win that final game?” One man asked.

“I’ll probably just have a quiet night in tonight,” he chuckled with a smirk, and you knew immediately what he was thinking, “I’ll save the celebrating for afterwards.”

Maybe you were being a little impatient, but you took off your jeans and panties about half an hour before he said he’d be home. You unhooked your bra and tore it off immediately after removing your bottoms.

You let your hands drift lower on your body, slipping your fingers underneath the hem of Pierre’s large jersey. You’d been wet since leaving the arena, and now you were practically dripping onto your fingers as you waited in anticipation. Pierre wasn’t supposed to be home for another fifteen minutes, you had plenty of time to have a little bit of fun.

You spread your fingers through your folds, eyes shutting as you began to focus on the pleasure building in your body.

“Starting without me?” You heard a voice say. Your eyes snapped open, and you retracted your hand from your core in an instant.

Pierre stood in the doorway as he dropped his duffel bag to the ground. He stalked across the room over to the bed, looming over you as he tugged you closer by your ankles. You leaned up on your elbows and met his heated gaze.

“I thought the deal was I get to do whatever I want?” He asked, “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself.”

“Sorry, Luc,” you breathed out, “I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”

The look he gave you told you that was the wrong thing to say.

“So you thought you could get yourself off without me knowing?” He raised his brow. You shook your head vigorously, hoping to backtrack.

“No, I—,” you began to apologize, but Pierre lifted his hand to grip your chin. He cut off your sentence by pressing his thumb against your lips to silence you. Slipping his thumb into your mouth, you instinctively closed your lips around them.

“I think you’ve done enough talking,” he replied, “Suck.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked against his tongue and pressed your tongue to the pad of his thumb. Pierre’s eyes darkened as he gazed down at you. He pulled his thumb from your mouth, which sounded with an audible ‘pop.’

“On your knees,” he commanded, stepping back from the bed so he could unbuckle his belt. Eagerly, you lowered yourself onto the floor in front of him and placed your hands behind your back just the way he liked. On nights like these, all he wanted to do was take. And you were more than willing to give.

Pierre pulled down his dress pants along with his boxers before kicking them off to the side. His shirt was quick to follow and soon he was bunching your hair into one hand and tapping your chin with the other. You understood the signal. You opened your mouth at his indication and let your tongue roll out as you awaited his next move.

“Remember what to do if it gets to be too much?” He asked finally. In times like these, it wasn’t possible for you to use your safe word. So, since you weren’t able to touch him anyway, all you had to do was dig your nails into the back of his calves if it became too much for you to take.

You nodded your head in agreement.

“I need your words, baby,” he said tenderly as his fingers brushed against your cheek, contrasting the way he was about to completely destroy you.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Pierre’s hand tightened its hold in your hair before he slid into your mouth. He brought his other hand to grip at the base of your neck to help push himself deeper. Your tongue met the underside of his dick, and you closed your lips around his throbbing length.

He began with a few slow, deep thrusts, getting you accustomed to his size. You sucked harshly around his tip when he pulled back, and you felt his abs tighten at your movement.

“You good?” He checked in, staring into your dilated pupils. You nodded the best you could and punctuated it with another long suck.

Taking your answer as a green light, he gave you a dark look before increasing his pace. Pierre’s hips thrusted faster now, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each snap of his hips before he retreated.

He fucked your face with force, and you felt yourself gag around him every time he thrusted back a little further than the last time. Tears welled your eyes as you made eye contact with Pierre, and he felt his balls tighten as he gazed down at the mascara running down your cheeks.

Pierre’s jaw dropped in a low groan as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted as your doe-like eyes met his.

His thrusts became a bit more erratic, and you tightened your lips even further against him as you knew he was about to hit his high.

“Gonna swallow for me?” He asked, shoving his cock deeper. You didn’t even want to think about how badly your makeup had run by now, but you gave him a pleading look to keep going.

Reaching his high, Pierre paused his hips mid-thrust, stopping as you swallowed around him. He pulled back a couple inches before his head fell back in pleasure and you felt his cum hit your tongue.

You swallowed as much as you could but felt a little bit dribble out of the corner of your mouth. Pierre pulled out of your mouth completely, and you brought your finger up to wipe the remaining cum before sucking it off.

“God, you are so fucking hot,” he praised, affectionately wiping away your smeared mascara.

Helping you up onto your feet, Pierre pulled you into his arms and dipped his head down to kiss you roughly.

“Congrats on your hat trick,” you congratulated between breaths. Picking you up with his large hands, he lightly tossed you back onto the bed before crawling over you.

“If only I could’ve scored one more,” he said wistfully, his mind imagining all the things he could do to you in a week.

“Maybe try a little harder next time,” you teased, bringing him back down to meet your lips.

He chuckled at your joke as he dipped his head to your neck to place open mouthed kisses against the skin there.

Pierre’s hands trailed up underneath his jersey and squeezed around your breast. Your mouth opened in a small gasp, and he twisted one nipple between his fingers as he bit at your neck.

He pulled back for a moment to slide further down your body. He pushed up the bottom of the jersey to bunch around your waist to reveal your dripping pussy.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he commented in awe, “This all for me?”

“Always for you,” you moaned as he ducked down to bite at the inside of your thigh.

“Is this pussy mine?” He asked, meeting your gaze from between your legs. His tongue licked up your thighs until he stopped just outside of your folds.

“Yes,” you let out a shaky breath, “Only yours.”

Content with your answer, he licked a strong stripe up from your entrance to your clit. Your hand immediately flew down to grip at his hair that was beginning to curl with its extra length. His beard rubbed against your cunt, and your back arched off the bed with the added friction.

One arm reached out to keep you pressed into the mattress and your attempts to grind into his face were halted.

His tongue circled around your clit before he closed his lips around it. Sucking at your sensitive nub, you gasped in pleasure. Pierre ate you out fervently, you hadn’t even noticed he’d brought his fingers to your cunt until he’d slipped two inside of you.

He fucked you gently with his fingers as his tongue worked wonders on your clit. With his beard scraping against your folds, you felt your climax hit you suddenly and intensely.

Your toes curled as the white-hot pleasure ripped through your body. Pierre eased you through it, keeping his tongue light on your pussy until the shockwaves were over.

Before you’d gotten a chance to catch your breath, Pierre moved back up your body and engulfed you in a hot kiss.

You felt your wetness in his beard as his tongue entered your mouth to tangle with yours. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the feeling.

One of your hands snaked down between your bodies to grasp at Pierre’s cock, which was already starting to stiffen again. You pumped him a couple times in your hand until his grabbed your wrist to stop your movements. He removed your hand from him and moved it above your head. He took hold of your free hand to join the one trapped in his grip to immobilize you completely.

“Keep them there,” he stated before removing his hands.

You followed his orders obediently, and he rewarded you with a quick kiss. Pulling back, Pierre lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you sharply.

Your hands clutched onto the sheets beneath them as he began fucking you at a relentless pace. One hand rested by your head to steady himself as his other pressed fingertip-shaped bruises into your hips.

Pierre busied himself by sucking hickies into your neck as you bit your lip in ecstasy.

Your eyes flittered open as he moved his hand to your jaw. Squishing your cheeks together slightly, your mouth opened in a small “O” at the force, and something went unspoken between you two.

You let your tongue fall and relax as you stared into Pierre’s eyes. His grip changed so your chin was held between his thumb and pointer finger, and he took a second to gather some spit before he let it drop into your open mouth and onto your tongue.

“Jesus, fuck,” Pierre cursed, admiring the way you looked under him. His lips were back on yours almost immediately after, moaning into you.

When he pulled back, he pulled out of you in a quick motion. Pierre flipped you over onto your stomach and was piledriving back into you before you could complain.

Your face smushed into the mattress and Pierre’s arm stretched out to use your back as leverage while he pounded into you.

“I love seeing my name across your back,” he grunted out, his hands briefly moving to trace over the number ‘18.’

“Please, Luc,” you moaned into the sheets, “I’m so close.”

“What was that, baby?” He questioned, moving your hair aside to nip at your ear. You knew he heard you the first time, but he loved to hear you beg for it.

“Please let me come, daddy,” you whimpered, about to bubble over from pleasure, “I need it so badly.”

Pierre pulled your back against his chest, and his hand wandered up to your neck. He closed it around your neck lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to push you over the edge. The fingers on his other hand snaked down, and he rubbed tight circles onto your clit.

It didn’t take long before you fell over that familiar edge for the second time that night. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, and Pierre released unsteady breaths against your neck. His hand tightened around your throat for a few seconds as he thrusted up into your cunt, chasing his own high.

He let out a loud groan of relief as he released into you. You felt his warmth spread throughout your pussy.

Pierre went still beneath you and his hand loosened his grip on your throat. You both panted as you tried to catch your breaths.

Slowly, Pierre lifted you off of his dick, and you felt some of his cum drip out of you and onto his thighs. His eyes fell down to the sight of you dripping onto him, and he let out another low moan.

Before he decided to flip you back around and fuck you again, he removed himself from you altogether. Gently, he laid you down on the bed and retreated to the bathroom.

In your blissed out state, you hadn’t even noticed his absence until you felt Pierre spreading your legs again. You flinched at the feeling of the washcloth between your folds as he cleaned you up.

He tossed the washcloth somewhere on the ground, making a note to throw it in the laundry later. You still laid on the bed with your eyes closed as your breath finally began to even out.

Pierre joined you and rested on his forearm as he watched you regain your composure. His fingers darted out to trail over the skin on your stomach from where your jersey had ridden up.

“God, I wish I scored hat tricks more often,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Oh please,” you chuckled, “You know you can do this almost any time you want.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You hummed in agreement as you rolled yourself onto your side to face him. Your hand reached up to rub at the beard covering his chin. Normally, he didn’t grow it out this much, so you were thankful playoffs were still ahead.

“You should keep this,” you said, letting the hair scratch at your fingers.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. You nodded your head before leaning in to kiss him. Different from before, his lips sensually caressed yours, conveying all the love he had for you.

“Night’s not over just yet,” he said when you pulled back. You furrowed your brows in confusion at his statement.

“I think I can fit in one more round in the shower,” he suggested cockily as his fingers brushed over your hips, the indentations of bruises already beginning to form.

“Well, you did score a hat trick,” you concurred, “Can you get it done in twenty minutes?”

Pierre’s eyes flew to the alarm clock on your nightstand, and it was indeed 11:40. It wasn’t a rule that his celebrations ended at midnight, but you’d just challenged Pierre and he was not about to back down now.

“I only need ten,” he teased, tugging you off the bed and into the bathroom.