#locker room caption
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selenasgirltiffany · 1 month ago
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go6jo · 7 months ago
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dating rin and he barges in through the bathroom door while you’re filming your vogue beauty secrets night skincare routine video because he completely forgot about you mentioning it and thought you were getting ready for bed without him which upset him because it's something he looks forward to at the end of the day - gets home really late everyday and it's a ritual he gets to share with you, a moment to be intimate with you. so when he notices you're recording he just goes "oh." with the most deadpan look on his face, standing by the door apologizing and you very sweetly chuckle and tell him it's okay, with a kiss to his cheek, that you'll help him when you're done. you eventually decide to keep his cameo in the final cut, with his consent, even though you're usually very private dating each other because you thought that it couldn’t hurt to shine a light on your relationship. after all you were proud of him and it feels good to show him off every once in a while. (plus the public is used to his aggression on the field, to star athlete rin itoshi, his cold demeanour and foul mouth and this showed a different side to him, that he could be tame, too. docile.) gets a little embarassed when the video is posted and as soon as he leaves the frame you're telling the camera about how he likes it when you do your nightly routine together. and that his favourite part are the face masks.
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realtapiocafan · 1 month ago
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🗣speak yo shit, jt!
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gymratz · 1 year ago
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Coach's has a standing order for all his jocks is to always be on the lookout for new potential recruits. This jock (left) found a prime cut of beef wandering in his territory and sent a quick report to coach:
Potential Recruit Report. Encountered John in the locker room of my assigned post. John is new to town and looking for guys to work out with. John already displays qualities and behavior coach will like such as a "bro" attitude and a penchant for wearing revealing clothes and showing off (see attached image). Preliminary testing indicates that John is highly susceptible and would take quickly to coach's words. The combination of these factors may indicate that John is already under the influence of a rival team. Recommend immediate recruitment and indoctrination.
A few days later and John is a full fledged member of the team --it didn't even take that much convincing.
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tartt9 · 2 years ago
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two bisexuals in a room. they might kiss
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skipppppy · 1 year ago
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This is such a minor and specific pet peeve but is anybody else midly incensed anytime this site labels doing fun shit out in nature as “boys stuff.” Like idk how to explain exactly but anytime I see a video of a guy pushing a giant boulder off a cliff to watch it break or digging a massive hole in the sand at the beach or throwing rocks in the water to hear it splash and people caption it shit like “for my male audience” or “wholesome boys will be boys” like…why are we forever burdened by gender essentialism. Do they think women are not also consumed by the desire to dig tunnels and run in the mud and make potions in puddles. I know it’s just a small part of a larger needless gender binary of internet memes a la “girl dinner” and “boys locker room” and “i bet he’s thinking about cheating on me” and whatever but maybe bc I was a little girl who used to love doing all that shit but was routinely told I couldn’t because I had to be pretty and ladylike it just makes me mad sometimes
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naburi · 29 days ago
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MY TEAMMATE’S DAUGHTER
SANA X READER
TAGS: DADDY KINK
2.7K WORDS
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“There she is! Look at my daughter!” Your teammate points in the stand. He found out that he had an illegitimate child, now a beautiful young woman. He pays her visits occasionally and brings her every game to make up for the time he missed, not knowing that his daughter is already receiving the attention that she needs. “F-fuck me harder daddy!” Sana’s plea echoes through your room.
“You’re such a slut.” You said while you slapped her ass. You are holding Sana by her thin arms as you pound her from behind. Her thin body shakes in every impact. “You want harder?” You said as you tighten your grip in her arms to pound her with more force. You take a pause after pulling it out just to ram your cock again in her now messy wet slit. The sound of her juicy slit getting pounded, the sound of flesh colliding as your hips bumps her meaty ass, Sana’s whales of pleasure. These noise made you fuck your slut even more.
Driving back home, a few notifications pop out on your phone screen. You just know they are from the fans that want to congratulate you after a win. You have no idea that one of those fans will change your life overnight. Finally arrived at your home. You went straight to bed to get some needed rest. Scrolling through the notifications bubble, you notice a familiar display photo, but you didn’t mind it as you thought that you probably saw them in the stadium. You are grateful to receive some encouraging messages from your fans, thus you take your time to read each and every message. After opening the first few bubbles, this notification bubble led you to an instagram story that mentioned you. It’s a picture of you and two of your teammates. “Hold on, is this her daughter?” You said as you went to check her account. You saw some of her posts where she is in the game. “That’s why she mentioned me, I’m with her father in the photo.” You concluded. Sana is laying in her room, waiting for you to notice her story. She smiles as it notifies her that you give it a like.
The next game is concluded in a loss, the locker room is silent. It’s an unspoken rule that nobody should go out or have fun at night after a loss. You went straight home. you quickly drove home to get this night. Fewer notifications pop in your phone. You 're not expecting any good messages with how you lost this game. You saw the name of the daughter of your teammate again in your notification bubbles. You click on it first which brings you to an instagram story again. This time it’s a video of you with a caption “great play!” Attached with your mentioned name. You appreciate her compliment and contemplate if you should send her a message. Thinking about it for a minute, you settle in giving it a like again. Scrolling through the other bubbles, a new notification pops up. Sana followed you on instagram and sent you a direct message. “Hi! You did your best! Let’s win the next one!” You left a chuckle while reading her message. You haven’t heard her voice before but you read it like someone is cheering you on. “Thank you! Father played well today as well!” You responded to her. After sending the message, I saw that she had already seen it. It means she’s waiting for your message all along. “He’s a good player just like you! I want to meet you in person!” She sent another message but you were too tired to look at it. You toss your phone to the side before falling asleep.
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You drove to the stadium for an early game today. Walking at the facility, it’s strange that you have not met anybody from your team yet. You continue to look for anyone in your team as you hear a noise coming out of one of the rooms. The whole team and staff are here and they are circling around a woman? “Your daughter is so pretty!”,”this can’t be your kid, she doesn’t look like you!”,”she’s too gorgeous to be your daughter!” The whole team is making fun of her father. Sana is standing on the other side, just smiling with the jokes. Her brunette hair shines from the sunlight behind her. Her silky white skin glows brighter than the light itself. Your teammates take turns shaking the woman before going out to the dugout. As more people leave the room, Sana finally caught a glimpse of you. Her innocent smile widens just enough that it looks seductive. It’s your turn for a handshake. You reach out your hand for sana to hold. Her slim fingers touch the back of your hand, her soft hands graces on your skin so slowly that it gives you chills. Her small hands look small compared to yours. She holds your hand a little longer than the others. “Goodluck!” She said while tightening her grip before finally letting your hands go. This is the first time you heard her voice. It didn’t help that her seductive smile didn’t go away when she held you. You won this game, the coach invited the team to celebrate this win with liquor. Some of your teammates are joking that they should also invite Sana with them but her father and some of the other players say that it should be a team only celebration. It’s still early in the night but you and some of your teammates excuse yourselves to go home to take an early rest.
Driving back home, your phone started to pop off with notifications again. You smile expecting a mentioned story or a message from Sana again. You sit on the sofa before you check your phone. You were baffled that no notification is from Sana. Checking your conversation, you saw that you haven’t responded to her message last night. “Should I message her?” You asked yourself. Sana has been putting you in a story in every game but today. You want to know the reason why you haven’t heard from her today thus finding yourself being the one to message her first. “It’s nice to meet you up close.” You said in your chat. Sana usually responds right away. It’s been 10 minutes now and she still has not read your message. You started to worry that you might have done something wrong that made the woman step away from you.
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It’s past 10 pm, and a series of notifications wakes you up. You found yourself sleeping on your sofa, waiting for a response from Sana. You hurriedly sat up as you saw the new notification bubbles. “Hi! I grabbed drinks with a friend!” She said while also sending a picture. It’s a picture of her with her drink beside a drawing on the wall. You may get the hint but you act oblivious. “Have you made it home? Stay safe.” You responded. You are finally at ease knowing that she’s just busy. “Thank you, I’m walking with my friend on the way home. We are just a few houses apart from where she lived.” She quickly responded. “Let’s grab a drink some other time as well :)” she added with a smiling expression. The idea of going out with Sana excites you but the realization that her father might take it the wrong way holds you back. you don’t want to create any distraction with the team. “Your father might have found out,” you responded. “We can grab some drinks and spend some time in your house,” she suggested. You don’t like where this is heading, you know what will happen if the two of you are left alone in your home. “No one will find out” you said to yourself before agreeing with Sana. “Meet me after the game on Friday” you said to her.
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In the locker room, the players are doing their pre-game routine and changing clothes. Sana is off your mind as you are focused on winning against your rival team. She didn’t leave your mind that long enough as you saw the woman standing outside of the locker room door. Sana is wearing less than what you are accustomed to. She usually is in jeans while paring it to your team's jersey. The locker room got quiet as they were too stunned with how attractive she is. The woman is wearing a small skirt that exposes her long lean legs paired with a tight folder jersey that shows her midriff. She walked inside the locker room to hand something to her father. She said it’s for good luck as she knows that this game means more as it is against your historically rival team. Sana gives you a long glance with a smirk on her face before she walks out. You both knew that she was not there for her father. She’s in there to give a glimpse of what you will see more tonight.
The game ended in a victory. Your coach invited the whole team to celebrate but you politely declined this one as you said you have a date. Your teammates are making fun of you that what you meant is really that you are going to hook up with someone tonight. It is not further from the truth as your mind gets clouded by how seductive Sana looks at you and how inviting her outfit is. You hurriedly walk your way out of the stadium. You tried to call your date for tonight but you were surprised that she is already in front of your car, waiting for you. “What if someone saw you?”,”I’ll just say I’m looking for my father.” She smirked at you. You look around to see if any player or staff saw the two of you but it seems like they are still inside. “How did you know which one is my car?” You asked in disbelief. Sana just gives you a wide smile. You guide her to the passenger seat and open the door for her. She thanked you as she sat inside.
You drove off to the nearest convenient store to grab drinks and some snacks. Sana is waiting in the car while you buy those items in the store. After returning to your seat. You felt her slim fingers wander on your pants. “What took you so long?” Sana’s voice changed. Her voice became higher pitched than usual, almost acting like a baby that’s waiting for her food. Her left hand is now moving up and downward on top of your forming bulge. You have not said anything as you don’t know how to react to her fast advancement. “I want to feel you now, Daddy,” her voice changed again. From a baby-like voice to a slow and alluring voice. Something clicked into you when she called you “Daddy.” It woke up your instinct for sex. Sana noticed this too as she felt how hard you got just by hearing that. Sana smiled and didn't leave her face as she knows that she will get what she came for. The two of you have now arrived at your home. You bring down the drinks and snacks to a small table in your living room. You sit on your sofa as you are about to open the drinks but Sana has other plans.
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“I’ve waited long enough, daddy.” Sana unzips your pants down to your ankles. She smiles when she sees your cock begging to be let out on your underwear. She pulls your underwear slowly as she wants to see it spring back up in total hardness which she saw when she finally let your hard cock out. Sana gives your hard cock a few strokes before she measures it with her forearm. “It’s bigger than my forearm!” Her thin forearm has no match with the girth of your cock. You chuckled as even in this situation she can still look as cute and innocent as ever. Sana laughs with you before she holds your cock and pat her face with it. She let your cock rest on her face. Your hard cock is resting beside her sharp nose bridge, your shaft is on top of her left cheek while she closes one of her eyes as your cock is covering half of her face with your tip on her forehead. Sana smiles as she gets turned on by feeling your big cock on her soft face. She holds your cock again to now pat her tongue with it. She gives the tip a few licks before trying to swallow all of your cock in one go. You groan as your cock is not even lubricated enough for a deepthroat. You can feel her soft inside as she slowly swallows all of your cock. Her sharp nose touches your abdomen before she pulls her head back. Sana gasped some air as she left a chuckle. “You have a big dick, daddy.” She smiles again with her eyes widening from excitement.
You had enough of her gimmicks, you know what she came for and you will give her exact what she wants. You hold Sana’s brown hair in a makeshift pigtail to have something to hold on. Sana even opens her mouth wide as she waits for your movement. You bring down her face again, impaling her mouth with your hard cock. Gagging sounds come out every time you put all of your cock in her mouth but she didn’t care. Sana let you use her mouth for your pleasure. You stand up to give yourself a better angle. You know moving your hips to meet her face every time. Sana looks up at you with tears flowing down her eyes. You fasten your face until Sana’s face turns red due to lack of oxygen. You get worried for a bit as you pause to check on her. She coughs when you finally let go of her face. “Why didn’t you tap out?” You asked. “I want my daddy to use me just as he pleases” Sana gives you a wicked smile even in her messed up face.
You carry Sana to your room, she wraps her legs onto you while she kisses your neck before you carry her down to your bed. You unbutton her small skirt and tossed it on the other end of the room. Sana tried to fasten the process by pulling her underwear on her own but you caught her hand. “Someone is being inpatient.” You said while removing her hand on her underwear. “S-sorry, daddy” she said. You eventually remove her underwear. “Fuck me please, daddy.” “Fuck me now,” she continues to plead before you hold her cheeks to open her mouth. You put her underwear inside her mouth as a consequence of her impatience. You aligned your hard cock on her wet lips before slowly plunging it in. Sana's loud moans are muffled by the underwear inside her mouth. You can feel how her slit stretched out due to your girthy cock. You hold her by her thin legs and start your movement. Sana's muffled moans are still loud. She tried to remove her top while you're on top of her but you slap her hands away. “What did I tell you about being inpatient?” You shouted at her. Sana got turned on with how aggressive you're becoming. You pull up her folded jersey top and her bra in one go, exposing her perky boobs. You slapped her boobs with force until red marks appeared. You squeezed her boobs to hold onto it while you continue to fuck her. Sana can’t take it anymore. She removes her underwear in her mouth and starts to plead more. “Fuck me just like that, daddy!” She shouted as her body arched back in pleasure. “You like getting fucked like a slut?” You shouted back. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me! I’m your slut!” She said before she left out a loud moan. You pulled out your cock and instructed her to bend down. Sana quickly obliged and even spread her ass cheeks in front of you. You hold her thin arms as you continue to plunge your cock inside her again. “F-fuck me harder, daddy!”
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wttcsms · 5 months ago
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ when they act this way (i know i got 'em) !!
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ᝰ.ᐟ kiyoomi sakusa is used to getting what he wants, and what he wants most right now is you. too bad you’re the biggest fucking tease in the world. fine by him, though. because when he gets his hands on you — and he will — you’re going to see what exactly all your thirst traps did for him. ( fem!reader )
pairing kiyoomi sakusa x reader word count 3.6k content contains angry sex/rough sex, overstimulation, semi-public location, pop star!reader, cheeky/bratty to sub!reader 😭, he manhandles you a bit, creampie kinktober masterlist
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“What’s his fuckin’ problem?” Atsumu grumbles, tossing his sweaty practice jersey onto one of the benches, mindful of avoiding the bench Sakusa is currently occupying. He takes this extra precaution since he doesn’t want to get yelled at again by Sakusa, who did snap at Atsumu five seconds prior for almost getting his dirty jersey thrown on top of him. 
“Maybe you just stink, ‘Tsumu.” Bokuto’s grinning, but Hinata shakes his head, gesturing for both of his teammates to come closer so he can whisper to them.
“I think Omi’s in a bad mood because he’s mad.” 
“No shit, Ginger!” Atsumu groans. “People who are in bad moods are usually mad. We didn’t need you to spell it out for us.” 
“You didn’t let me finish!” Hinata whisper-shouts. “He’s been looking at [Name] [Surname]’s Instagram since before practice ended.” 
“Who the hell is that?” Atsumu hisses, and Bokuto hits him on the shoulder. 
“Bro! That singer!”
“Yeah, that clears shit up.” Atsumu rolls his eyes, yanking open his locker to find a clean shirt to wear. “Why would Omi be mad at lookin’ at some girl’s Instagram?”
The trio is silent for a moment before a lightbulb practically appears over Bokuto’s head.
“Hey! Maybe she got a boyfriend, and he’s jealous!”
The group ponders this hypothetical. 
“Why would Kiyoomi get jealous, though?” Hinata asks. “It’s not like he’s dating her or anything.”
“Unless they had some weird situationship shit goin’ on.” Atsumu suggests. “Should we ask? Shoyo, go ask him.”
“Why do I have to ask?” 
“Nope. She didn’t post anything with a boyfriend…” Bokuto mumbles, scrolling through your feed. 
“Lemme see.” Atsumu snatches the phone from Bokuto’s hands and lets out a wolf whistle. “She’s hot. No wonder Omi-Omi’s pissed off.” 
“Huh?” Hinata whines. “Let me see, too!”
Atsumu faces the screen towards Hinata. “She’s the type of pretty that makes you mad just ‘cause ya can’t have her.” 
The girl on the screen is you. Posted not even an hour ago but already generating over six hundred thousand likes, Hinata understands what Atsumu means. Your back is turned towards the stage you’re on, but you’re looking back, giving the camera a coy smirk. You’ve got a rhinestone bedazzled microphone in one hand, and you’re wearing the shortest baby-blue minidress in existence; so short, in fact, that because your knees are bent just a bit, the current pose you’re sporting causes the fabric of your dress to rise, giving everyone viewing the image an unfiltered view of the built-in panties of the dress. The caption speaks volumes: too much for you to handle?. 
“You realize I could hear you idiots the whole entire time, right?” Sakusa doesn’t sound very happy, and Atsumu is quick to shove the phone back into Bokuto’s hands. “I’m not in a bad mood, and I’m not mad, and I don’t care about [Name] [Surname].” He grabs his gym bag, making a face at the trio, before storming out of the locker room. 
Sakusa’s upset, and his bad mood only sours more whenever he realizes that his idiotic teammates are more perceptive than he would like. Yes, he was mad at practice the minute he saw your latest post. And why wouldn’t he be? It’s clear that you’re fucking sub-posting him. You would’ve been better off just DM’ing him yourself and asking that stupid question.
Too much for you to handle? 
Fuck you, he thinks bitterly. Before realizing that, yes, that’s exactly what he wants to do to you. 
Everyone knows it, including you, which makes the whole situation even worse. Your mutual friends keep trying to persuade the two of you to finally ease the tension and just get a room, but Sakusa’s always been a touch too prideful. 
The two of you have always been constantly warring with each other; you’ve got the coy, flirty, cocky personality that doesn’t mesh well with his own stoic, cold, perpetually unimpressed one. You always flirt with him, but he’s seen you flirt with everyone — it’s basically your whole brand. It’s precisely what your popstar image is built upon — the fun, flirty idol who’s carefree and the poster girl for no-strings-attached. 
And Sakusa, for what it’s worth, is a very strings-and-all type of man. 
The reason why he won’t pursue you is because you’re the first person to catch him off guard. He can’t get a good read on you. He has no clue what your intentions actually are, and he’s not about to make a fool of himself by asking you if you’re serious when you told him you were.
That stupid fucking party — he knew he shoudn’t have attended. It was another teammate’s birthday, and he was hosting it at his place, and since it wasn’t a nightclub or anything, Sakusa assumed it was safe enough to attend. Too bad he forgot that his teammate was dating some other singer, someone who happens to be one of your friends. 
Everyone there kept pushing the two of you together, and as the night progressed and everyone was getting drunker and drunker, there was intoxicated, slurred commentary on how the two of you just needed to fuck once and get each other out of your systems. 
“It’s true.” Even with heels, you’re still shorter than Sakusa, and you have to get on the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. “You wanna know the reason why we haven’t had sex yet?” 
“Because I’m not interested.” He tells you flatly. He’s lying, and you know it. 
You pout, your plush bottom lip on display. “It’s because I don’t want you out of my system, and I’m hoping you don’t want to get rid of me either.” 
He snorts, even though his heart jumps at the thought. He wants to tell you to quit playing these games and be serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps himself guarded. “Like I said. Not interested.” 
“Why won’t you just give in?” You tilt your head. “You scared? Or maybe…” The dress you’re wearing makes your legs look even longer. Every centimeter of bare skin you expose has him spiraling into overdrive. He maintains his facade of nonchalance and looks you in the eyes, looking entirely unimpressed with your antics. “I’m too much for you to handle? Wouldn’t want to go around breaking Japan’s favorite outside hitter, after all.” 
You smile at him, giving a tiny giggle. “Yeah. I think that’s exactly the reason.” 
Sakusa is many things, and you somehow negate everything. He’s blunt; you either leave him speechless or determined to lie to save face. He’s generally unaffected by most people; you get under his skin. He doesn’t like being made out to be a fool; you make him feel like the biggest idiot, and other people know it too. He likes to have everything in his life sorted out properly; you and him have nothing but unfinished business. 
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Let it be known that Kiyoomi Sakusa only came to your concert rehearsal purely because he wanted to get closure. When he walked into the stadium, hands in his pockets, watching you dance on the stage, he did not intend for you to immediately halt practice. He did not intend for you to gesture for him to follow you, and he did not intend to be taken backstage. There’s surprisingly less people back here than he thought, and you explain to him that it’s because rehearsal technically starts two hours later. You just wanted to run through it beforehand, to warm up. 
(Sakusa admires that about you; no one ever seems to acknowledge the hard work you put in, and it’s your work ethic, really, that slowly started to endear you to him.) 
Let it be known that Kiyoomi Sakusa had absolutely no intention of fucking you backstage. Because, in his defense, you have a way of making him act entirely out of character.
The constant teasing, the back and forth, your coy smiles and flirtatious remarks that he can never truly decipher. And here you are, standing all pretty in your sparkly minidress, and you just keep taunting him. Even when he’s trying to have a serious conversation with you, all you do is skate around his questions. It’s like your default mode is set to toying with men. 
“Seriously,” he grits his teeth, backing you into one of the walls. You’re completely cornered by him now. It’s easy to forget how much bigger Sakusa truly is. He towers over you, makes you feel like a little kitten backed into an alleyway by a big dog. “You can’t take me seriously for one fucking second?”
His brows are furrowed, and he’s frowning. Somehow, the sight of him angry only gets you more excited. You like Sakusa. You like him much more than you originally anticipated, and this whole cat-and-mouse charade is just that: a charade. Of course you meant it when you kept flirting with him. But you’re not used to being the one who has to chase after someone, and you refuse to give in now. With both of you having too much of an ego to give in, it’s a battle of individual pride now. 
A battle that you think you might lose once you and him both realize that you’re pressing your thighs together to apply some pressure to the growing need between your legs. 
“Are you—?” He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Fucking slut. You really did want me to fuck you this whole entire time.” He takes another step towards you; there’s no more space for you to back into. You’re already pressed against the wall, and now he’s looming over you, an impossible obstacle to get over. Somehow, you don’t mind being trapped, as long as it’s Kiyoomi Sakusa that’s holding you down. 
“You wish.” You try to sound snarky, but it’s hard when Sakusa is looking down at you like that. Dark eyes, strands of hair hanging down his forehead, a cold, calculating smile on his face as he watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you struggle to breathe normally. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s capable of hearing how fast your heart is beating. 
“So you don’t want me to fuck you?” It should be illegal for his voice to get this low, to sound this husky. He’s leaning down far enough to where he can whisper this question in your ear, and your breath hitches as you feel thick fingers toying with the waistband of your panties. 
Right now, you are backstage, and your employees and team could be coming in any second now, and you don’t care. You don’t care, because all you care about is the fact that Kiyoomi Sakusa has you pressed against the wall, and his hand is up your dress, and he’s about to make his way into your panties. 
You gasp as you feel two of his fingers press directly against your clit, before traveling downwards and toying with your folds. There’s no actual penetration, just the tantalizing touch of his fingers rubbing against you, gathering up your slick. 
You make a tiny noise, and Sakusa chuckles softly. “You’re so wet, it feels like you want me, though.” The tips of his fingers prod at your entrance, only for him to abruptly remove his hand altogether, leaving your needy hole clenching and grasping at nothing. You whine as he examines his fingers, separating his index and middle fingers, allowing the both of you to watch closely as viscous strands of your juices coat his digits. He shrugs nonchalantly, leaning away from you. “I’ll let you get back to your rehearsal.” 
“No!” You shut your eyes, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. You bite down on your lip before opening your eyes, peering up at him through thick lashes. “I-I do want you.” You’re mumbling, but it’s clear Sakusa’s heard you, loud and clear. 
“Sorry, what was that?” 
You’re wet, unsatisfied, and absolutely down bad for Kiyoomi. You’ve wanted him for months now, and he has you right where he wants you: so needy that you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you backstage. The thrill of potentially being caught, the excitement of finally just giving in to your desires… 
“I want you, Sakusa. Please.” You beg him, rubbing your thighs together to try and get some sort of friction. “I need you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sakusa might sound cocky, but there’s something equally needy in his touch. He’s back to pressing you against the wall, leaving practically no space between the two of you. He plants his hand right back into your panties, stroking your folds a few times, gathering the slick only to insert two fingers right where you need him most. He watches your expression, the way you try to tilt your head back, your little moans of pleasure as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out. 
“You could’ve had me sooner if you weren’t busy playing coy all the damn time.” Sakusa frowns, as if the memory of how long you’ve had him chasing after you has suddenly been brought back to his attention. When he says this, he picks up speed, pistoning his digits. You’re getting even wetter now, the lewd sound of him toying with your cunt the only noise in this empty backstage. He’s adding a third finger into the mix, now, and your cunt tries to resist, fails to adapt to the thickness of three of his fingers. 
“Mmph — ‘Kusa, slow — fuck!” You whine out, unable to speak properly as your walls clamp down on his digits. He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing rough, unforgiving circles on the nub, never slowing down the pace of his fingers, even when you beg him to take it easy. “I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum!” You wail out, legs almost failing you from the force of your orgasm. 
The only thing keeping you upright is Sakusa himself. He wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you steady, but even after watching you fall apart from just his fingers, Sakusa isn’t satisfied. You little brat — you’ve been depriving him of seeing your precious, pretty face you make when you cum, and as a result, you’ve also been depriving yourself of all the pleasure that could’ve been yours, that’s rightfully yours, all because you wanted him to chase after you. 
Well, he’s got you now. 
And he’s going to want to give you both what the two of you have been missing out on, plus interest. 
You’re still recovering from your climax, legs feeling like jelly, vision blurry as you try to blink out the haze of pleasure from your vision, when you feel him shove the fabric of the skirt of your dress into your open mouth. 
“Bite down on this.” He grunts out, and you follow his command as if it’s simply second nature to. “Be a good girl, and keep holding it up, okay?” 
You nod weakly, but it’s easier said than done when you almost let out a gasp as you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your soaked entrance. Your eyes go wide, and he smirks at the sight of the country’s most beloved pop star reduced to nothing but his little slut. Your mouth is shoved with the fabric of your dress, keeping it up so he can continue to admire the sight of your wrecked pussy, still sensitive from when he banged you with his fingers. Your panties are pulled down, a crumpled mess around your ankles, and there’s drool gathering ‘round the corners of your mouth, your lipgloss staining the fabric of your dress. Messy girl. His messy girl.
It’s easy for him to slide into your needy hole, and he hisses when he feels the way your walls clench around his cock, squeezing him. There’s no better feeling, he decides, than the feel of your pretty, needy pussy yielding to him with absolutely no resistance. Even your cunt knows who owns it now. 
A soft whine, muffled by the dress occupying your mouth, slips from your lips. Sakusa’s cock is thick. Thicker than anyone else’s you’ve ever taken. It sinks into your snug cunt with a push forward that you feel entirely unprepared for, even though you’re so wet, it’s easy work for him to make himself at home in your pussy. 
His pace is unforgiving. He gives you no time to adjust, and he doesn’t seem to care about the way your pussy is still recovering from his fingers. He wastes no time in pounding into you, and even he’s panting at the exertion he’s exercising. Some tiny strands of his black curls are stuck on his forehead from the sweat, and you can’t help but think that Sakusa is beautiful, even when he’s scowling and fucking into you with a fervor that feels like he’s treating this like the only time he’s going to fuck you. 
You hope that isn’t true. You knew that the minute you’d get a taste of Sakusa, you’d never want to let him go. 
“Fuck.” He hisses, never slowing down his pace. He’s being rough, almost brutal. It’s like he’s chasing after his own pleasure, forcing you to find your release all on your own. But the thing is, it’s so easy to come apart. It’s so easy to come apart when you think about how this is Sakusa’s cock battering into you, how it’s Sakusa that’s panting and groaning from pleasure, how it’s Sakusa that is making your pussy his. You keep clenching down on his length, making it harder for him to continuously thrust in and out of you. “Fuck.” He repeats. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go.” 
You can’t speak, can’t tell him that it’s the truth, that you want him here forever. 
The echoing sound of the entrance of the building opening and then slamming close has your eyes going wide with fear. Someone has just entered. 
You’re now acutely aware of how loud the noises the two of you are making. The constant wet, slapping noises of his skin against yours, your messy pussy making a mess between your thighs and on his dick, his groans, your weak whimpers. All of it is now suddenly amplified as you listen in fear — and excitement — as footsteps echo around the hall. 
“[Name]?” Someone calls out. Your assistant. Fuck. 
You look up at Sakusa, curious as to why he’s still not stopping, but he only holds a finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. “I haven’t finished yet.” He whispers into your ear, and you shake your head, panicking. 
“No? You want me to stop?” He buries his cock to the fucking hilt, shoving himself so deeply inside of you, you let out a surprised, pleasured squeal. “I’ll stop if you cum on my cock. For a slut like you, that should be easy.” 
You want to protest, you want to snap back that you are not a slut, but it’s hard to prove him wrong when his words, his cock, only have you tightening around him. He chuckles as he feels the pressure of your pussy clamping down on his dick, and he resumes fucking into you. 
Your hips start to buck needily against his, the pleasure making you feel delirious and reckless. You seem to have ditched all common sense, and as the footsteps continue to echo throughout the building, sounding closer and closer to where the two of you are currently fucking like rabbits in heat, you only succumb to the delirious, delicious heat of pleasure. Legs wrapping around his tight waist, you succumb hopelessly and happily to the pleasure he seems to effortlessly wring out of you, your body needily twisting and pushing against him, needing more of him. Your moan is long and would’ve been drawn out had he not pressed a calloused palm against your mouth. The dress fabric falls from your lips, and your moan is silenced as you stare up at him. He doesn’t look angry, just pleased. 
He’s turned you into such a little fucked out mess that he made you cum on his cock, despite the fact that there is someone else roaming this place, calling out for you. 
If only he got here sooner; then, he could’ve played with you for a bit longer, toy with you the way you’ve been toying with him. You’re lucky that he doesn’t plan on getting caught being balls deep in you, even though the idea of announcing to the world that you’re his gets him off. 
Muffling his own moan of pleasure by biting down on the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, Sakusa finishes deep into your wrecked cunt, letting out ropes and ropes of hot, white spurts of cum. He’s panting, removing his mouth from your skin, licking at the bite he left on your soft skin, as if to apologize. 
Both of your chests are rising and falling, the two of you greedily gulping for more air. He pulls out, a few drops of his cum already leaking out of your cunt. 
“This isn’t over.” He mutters, pulling up your panties, a puddle of his cum starting to pool into the seat of your underwear. He fixes your dress, smooths the fabric, and plants a surprisingly chaste kiss on your spit-slick lips. “Unless this really was a one time thing?” 
“As if this was ever going to be a one time thing.” You’re too tired to roll your eyes, but when he smiles, you find enough energy to smile back. “There’s a backdoor over there that you can leave. No one will see you.” 
“I’ll text you later.” He tells you, straightening his back and walking to the exit you just directed him to. “Like I said, this isn’t over.” 
Everyone on your team is worried when, during rehearsals, you complain that your legs are too sore to do the choreography.
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gymratz · 1 year ago
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Being a jockboy is about more than just having a hot body. That's why coach makes sure all his boys learn to adopt the correct attitude. Regardless of where they start, after coach's conditioning they all end up like this cheeky bro.
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tojisun · 8 months ago
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sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au)
hockey player simon riley x f!reader’s relationship, through the eyes of the fans // sort of smau
i was listening to 5sos’ slsp while writing this so!!! sorry i went bonkers 😔 i just love this au sm
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simon riley is obsessed with his girl, and it is maddeningly endearing.
of course he’s in love with you, everyone could see even from a continent away, but there is something clingy, possessive, in the way simon hovers around you. like you’d disappear right before his eyes if he wasn’t pressed close; if his tattooed arm wasn’t looped around your waist or his thick fingers were not twined with yours.
it is new, unheard of, even riley’s loyal fans says so, but it’s just so—
nice.
(the word is inadequate, they know, but there’s nothing close that could describe how heart-fluttering his devotion to you is.)
riley has always been a private person, sharing only sparse details of his life. one can even easily locate his earliest instagram post because there’s just about twenty uploads in his account since its creation—from 2017, and it’s a broken hockey stick. even that throw-away picture continues to amass likes as new fans come scouring whatever of him they can find.
his latest post was during last season’s finals’ celebrations—a series of pictures of the boys carrying the stanley cup. the first few pictures were all professionally taken, but the rest splinters into blurred shots of mactavish and garrick, particularly, drinking from the cup from inside of the locker room.
it said: thank you all.
curt, direct, but not any less meaningful.
cut to this year, mid-regular season (january), and after five months of drought, the simon riley posted a picture. and it wasn’t just any picture, but it was a hard launch of his new partner.
it was a selfie, taken by you, the camera angled just slightly. your back was pressed to his chest, and his chin was hooked to your shoulder, and, cheek-to-cheek, the two of you grin up at the camera. the background was distinctly new york, central park, so it must have been taken after the specgru’s game against the rangers (0-4 for the specgru).
for the caption, he wrote: she’s never been here before.
in an instant, all of the speculations were confirmed—the most eligible bachelor of the franchise is, finally, in an official relationship.
news articles popped up after that, speculations bloating at the shocking news. some people have even said that they’re sure they’ve seen you prior to the announcement—weren’t you that one fan simon riley was flirting with while he was on ice, mid-game?
(you were.
you were even one of the people that was tagged in johnny’s story before it got preemptively taken down; and the same person seen with the other WAGs, sprinkles of your silhouette seen on pictures like the ones that are taken on the days when the franchise flies them for game nights or the countless ones during the unveiling of the season’s WAGs jackets.
you have been a part of their circle even before the world knew who you were and, somehow, that was comforting; how simon riley had not thrown you to the wolves—or vultures, as mactavish snarled when they’ve hounded him about his fiancee’s abrupt end of her season in the FIVB, like her health wasn’t the priority over her career—and instead made sure you were surrounded by people who knew how to survive amidst the scrutiny.)
and, just like that, the dam called simon-riley’s-secret-album-of-you broke.
what had been a sporadic activity in his account exploded into series of posts, one update every week. it was a whirlwind of excitement because no one from the hockey world has ever seen this much of simon riley’s life.
he was always unapproachable, distant, like there’s always a wall between him and the rest of the world. like in exchange of being called the living legend, the guiding star, simon riley gets to shirk away from the public whenever he chooses. and who can fault him for that? riley’s career has always been heavily documented—people knew him even before he was drafted into the league, they had betted on his rookie year, and then had put him in a lonely pedestal. so of course he is fiercely protective of his privacy.
only a select few get to truly know him, only a select few have stories of simon that isn’t about the ice or hockey or his in-the-works legacy. only a select few see him beyond his crown, and now he’s giving a piece of his true self to the world because of you.
because you are worth showing off.
because life with you is worth celebrating.
.
riley41
[it’s a candid image of you standing on the balcony, wearing a too-big of a shirt that is getting ruffled by the wind and pyjama pants, and leaning over the railing as you stare at the scenery. you’re all silhouette because your body is devoured by the orange rays of the sunrise, its tendrils spilling into the wooden floors of the hotel room.]
liked by jmactavish.91, reyenzo14, and others
riley41 ibiza
.
riley41
[it’s a series. the first image is of the two of you on his motorcycle, the picture taken from simon’s bike’s camera. you’re both wearing tinted helmets and leather gears, the background a blur of colours which indicates that this was taken mid-ride. you’re gripping him tightly and your body is almost fully-covered by his bulk, leaving only the top half of your helmet to be seen peering from his shoulders.
the second image is of the beach. it’s dusk, and the sky is an explosion of pinks and purples and blues.
the third image is a selfie with your visors up. you’re looking at the camera with a shy smile, your eyes squinted because of how bright it still is, while simon only has his eyes on you.]
liked by pricejhn2, alexkeller_, and others
riley41 vroom
.
riley41
[it’s a mirror selfie of the two of you, with simon taking the photo. the background is notably his house. your back is facing the mirror, your head tilted to rest on his shoulder, while his arm is curled around your waist. you’re wearing this season’s WAG jacket—it’s black and green, their colours. the pose now makes sense because you’re showing off the back of the jacket that spells out RILEY 41 in white. simon’s wearing their away-jersey.]
liked by kylegarrick, konig_76, and others
riley41 game six let’s go
.
riley41
[it’s a video; the angle shows that it is taken by someone else. you and simon are hugging, and are swaying lightly as the two of you dance to the faint sound of music booming from somewhere behind the camera. simon’s mouthing the lyrics to your ear, his cheeks flushed like he’s buzzed from drinking, while you giggle and softly rub your palm at his back.]
liked by jmactavish.91, kylegarrick, and others
riley41 my favourite person
.
.
yourname
[it’s a candid picture you’ve taken of simon sleeping while he uses your lap as pillow. the angle captures the way your fingers are playing with his hair and scratching his scalp gently. the picture is a little blurry because there’s not enough light to properly focus the lens.]
liked by riley41, jjoanne.spam, and others
yourname im the happiest when im with him
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goldfades · 7 days ago
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i need to be sidney crosbys controversially young gf… maybe something for that… heh
my new fav concept, hope you enjoy!
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It started with whispers.
The kind that curled around the edges of locker rooms and crept into post-game interviews, barely concealed behind tight-lipped smirks and knowing glances. The kind that made headlines in tabloids next to blurry photos of a dinner reservation that should have been private. The kind that weren’t unexpected, not when a 37-year-old hockey legend started dating a 21-year-old who had no business being in his world.
Sidney Crosby was used to the noise. He’d spent two decades as the face of a franchise, his every move dissected and debated. But this? This was different. This was personal.
And you—well, you were the subject of speculation, fascination, and, in some corners, outright disapproval. The girl too young, too fresh, too much of a contrast to the quiet, calculated, carefully managed existence Sidney had built. The age gap was undeniable, a 16-year stretch that gave people ammunition, as if they hadn’t already decided what they thought about you.
It didn’t help that you weren’t some seasoned socialite or a familiar name in hockey circles. You weren’t a sports reporter or a PR darling, not a longtime fixture at games. No, you were something worse in the eyes of his critics—young, new, and entirely yours.
They didn’t know about the late-night conversations, the ones where Sidney’s usual reserve cracked open just enough for you to slip inside. They didn’t see the way he softened when you spoke, or how he looked at you like he was trying to memorize every version of you—the excited, the sleepy, the frustrated, the amused.
They didn’t know that you never sought him out, that he was the one who lingered after your first meeting, the one who texted first, the one who—despite all logic, despite knowing exactly what kind of reaction this would spark—had made it clear he wanted you.
But they knew enough to talk.
"She’s barely old enough to drink."
"What could they possibly have in common?"
"Sid’s having a mid-life crisis."
The comments should have been easy to ignore. Sidney wasn’t the type to entertain gossip, and you’d never cared about the opinions of people who didn’t know you. But still, the weight of it settled into your bones some days, making you wonder if you were an anomaly in his otherwise perfectly controlled life.
Because he was Sidney Crosby—captain, legend, a man whose legacy had been cemented long before you were even in high school. And you? You were just the girl people assumed was temporary.
And maybe that’s what made it all the more exhilarating.
The funniest part? You and Sidney actually found the whole thing hilarious.
The first time you showed him a comment under some sports gossip post—"She’s basically a child. This is so embarrassing for him."—he just blinked at you, unimpressed.
"Didn’t realize I should be embarrassed for enjoying my life," he said dryly, barely looking up from his coffee.
You snorted. "Yeah, well, you should probably start wearing knee braces to dinner so people know how frail you are."
From then on, it became a running joke.
Like when you posted a dimly lit photo of your hand wrapped around a wine glass at a fancy steakhouse, the edge of Sidney’s plate barely in frame, and captioned it: Dinner with my old man 🤍
Or when you caught a candid of him rubbing his temple after a long day and added it to your Instagram story with the text: He’s got a headache from all the whippersnappers in his life.
Or, your personal favorite, when you recorded him tying his skates before practice, zoomed in on his face as he focused, and added: D1 Grandpa Energy.
The chirps were constant, and he took them all in stride. In fact, he played along—leaned into it, even.
"Think I should start stretching before we go out?" he mused one evening as you got ready for dinner. "Maybe bring a heating pad?"
You grinned at him in the mirror. "I already put Icy Hot in your bag. Just in case you pull something walking to the table."
He rolled his eyes, but you caught the twitch of his lips.
Despite the internet losing its collective mind, the reality of your relationship was effortless. Sidney was steady, calm, and deeply private. You, on the other hand, were unbothered, playful, and just reckless enough to make things interesting. You balanced each other out in a way that worked, even if people didn’t understand it.
You loved how Sidney never treated you like you were some silly, naive kid. He respected you—your thoughts, your humor, your way of seeing the world. And you, in turn, loved teasing the hell out of him, keeping him on his toes in a way no one else really dared.
Like the time you went with him to a team dinner, and while everyone was talking hockey, you casually turned to him and went, "Tell me again what it was like growing up without color TV?"
The table went silent for a beat before someone—probably Letang—burst out laughing. Sid just gave you that look, equal parts unimpressed and amused, before shaking his head.
"She’s funny, huh?" he muttered, reaching for his drink.
"A regular comedian," you quipped, clinking your glass against his.
That was the thing—no matter how much outside noise tried to define your relationship, the two of you had already decided what it was.
It was simple. You liked each other.
Sidney didn’t buy you expensive things to impress you. Sure, he could, but he knew that wasn’t why you were here. Instead, he showed up in little ways—the way he always made sure to order your fries extra crispy because that’s how you liked them, or how he’d automatically pull you closer when cameras were around, just to make sure you didn’t get overwhelmed.
And you? You made sure he laughed. Really laughed. The kind of laugh that shook his shoulders and made his eyes crinkle, the kind of laugh he rarely let people see.
You were good together. You fit, even if people couldn’t wrap their heads around it.
And honestly? That just made it more fun.
It was nearly midnight, and the two of you were on the couch, deep in a heated argument over absolutely nothing.
"I'm just saying, people who don’t let the cereal sit in the milk for at least thirty seconds before eating it are a danger to society," you declared, pointing your spoon at him.
Sidney, reclined against the cushions in his sweatpants and a faded Team Canada hoodie, exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "That’s ridiculous. You want it soggy?"
"Not soggy, perfectly saturated," you corrected, scooping another spoonful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch from your bowl. "It enhances the experience."
Sid shook his head, glancing down at his own bowl—practically dry because, of course, he barely let the milk touch his cereal before shoveling it into his mouth like some kind of barbarian. "There’s no way you actually believe this."
"I do," you said, dramatic as ever, settling further into your spot next to him. "This is a hill I will die on."
Sid sighed, took another bite, and then, without missing a beat, shot back, "Guess you’d better hope I go first then."
You gasped, shoving his shoulder. "Did you just—"
He fought back a smirk, chewing methodically like he didn’t just say something that made your jaw drop. "You’re too young to be making retirement home decisions, anyway," he added, extra casual.
"Wow," you scoffed, setting your bowl down. "Big words for someone whose lower back cracks every time he stands up."
He snorted, finally breaking into that slow, warm smile that made your stomach flip.
It was moments like this that made you realize why, despite the comments and the noise, this relationship worked.
You weren’t intimidated by him. Not by his reputation, not by the weight of who he was. You poked fun at the untouchable Sidney Crosby the way most people wouldn’t dare, but you never disrespected him. You met him as a person, not as a legacy.
And Sid—Sid liked that.
He liked how quick you were, how you made fun of him without ever making him feel small. How you never treated him like some god on skates but also never downplayed how much he meant to people. It was a balance no one had quite figured out before you.
He let out a deep breath, stretching his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the ends of your hair.
"You done bullying me for the night?" he asked, amused.
You hummed, considering. "Depends. You gonna admit my cereal method is better?"
"Absolutely not."
"Then no."
He chuckled, shaking his head before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. You melted into his side like it was second nature, warm and easy.
The whole world could talk. The whole world could speculate. But in here, in this quiet moment between bowls of cereal and bad jokes, you fit like you were always meant to.
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sincerelyneo · 11 months ago
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teeth | l.hc
“fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet”
💿now playing: teeth by 5 seconds of summer
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❯ summary: Traditionally the caption of the cheer team and the captain of the soccer team are friends - some even date. But you and Donghyuck definitely aren’t friends - if anything you’re enemies. The two of you can’t go five minutes without an argument. So, why are you letting him fuck you in the locker room?
❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader
❯ genre: college!au, enemies with benefits, smut
❯ words: 2.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, bickering, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), hate sex, degrading names, general name-calling, manhandling, haechan is an asshole, but reader is also lowkey mean, choking, use of nickname 'princess', reader uses she/her pronouns, hardly any plot, it's literally just them hate fucking idk what to tell ya.
cheeky author's note: i'm very brtish, so referring to this as soccer literally made me want to rip my hair out 😀
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“You don’t have to be so rough you know, Hyuck!”
"Will you just shut up and let me fuck you!?" He snaps.
The red metal of Lee Donghyuck's locker is cold against the skin of your bare back. Honestly, you don’t even know how it happened. But somehow the captain of the soccer team (and the boy you swear you hate) has you pinned against the boy’s lockers, one leg wrapped around his waist and the top half of your cheer uniform hiked up just enough to give him a full display of your tits. His left-hand grips your hip so tightly that you’re certain he’s doing it on purpose just to piss you off.
Not only that, but he also has your skirt bunched up around your waist. Giving him just the right amount of easy access to pull your panties to the side and tease his cock between your folds.
"Will you just hurry up and stick it in!?" You try to yell at him but, from the way he’s teasing the head of his cock at your entrance, the attempt comes out like a feeble whine.
Exactly on command, the scowl on your face quickly morphs into a wince, and the annoyed quirk on your lips disappears to form a small 'o' as Hyuck’s grip on your hip hardens and he pushes his cock quickly into your cunt. You can’t complain though - you did just tell him to stick it in.
"Shit," you squirm, hand coming up to his chest, pressing hard against the badge of his soccer uniform that rests on his right peck.
"Now look who’s needy," He teases. "I vividly remember you saying I’d be the shittest fuck on the soccer team."
"That’s what this is about!? You’re still mad that– uhh," you’re cut off by your own moan and your nails sink into the fabric of his shirt when he starts to move his hips. His pace is surprisingly slow - deliberately teasing - in comparison to his rapid first thrust inside of you.
"Christ! Even when you fuck you talk too much," Hyuck curses, his hand wrapping around your arm to free himself from the grip you have on his shirt.
"You're one to talk," You hiss back. "Even when you fuck you’re still an annoying little asshol– "
You gasp as he pulls out of you completely and then thrusts into you once again.
"You could've at least warned me, you dick,” You exhale, your walls readjusting to his size for the second time - and what a big size he was.
“Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture princess.”
You can’t believe that even when he’s buried to the hilt inside of your pussy he’s still calling you that stupid fucking nickname. It’s not the word ‘princess’ itself that bothers you per se; it’s Lee Donghyuck’s intention behind the name that makes your blood blister with anger. He’s been calling you ‘princess’ since your freshman year in college but you’d only ever inquired about it recently.
You were at a party, and even though you hate the bones of Lee Donghyuck, you’d be lying if you said your social circles didn’t overlap. It was inevitable, he’s on the soccer team, you’re a cheerleader; honestly, the two of you should be friends. But you’re not. And because of your strained relationship, it was no surprise that the minute you walked through the door he’d picked a fight with you.
You can't even remember what the argument was about now, but you know the two of you had gone back and forth in a boxing match of insults that always ended with him throwing the word ‘princess’ at the end of his rebuttals. And you really couldn’t quite understand why. In your mind, being called a princess was a compliment, but to Donghyuck, princesses were “spoilt bitches who have no grip on reality.”
Safe to say you didn’t think the term was one of endearment after that.
And it was at that same party where you’d insisted Donghyuck would be the shittest fuck on the soccer team – something you’re currently finding out as being not true as he fucks you senseless six ways to Sunday. In all honesty, even when Yuta had asked you the question in a silly little game of truth or dare, you knew Hyuck was the cop-out answer. Truthfully, your real answer would have been Jisung or Chenle. They’re both a little younger and act more awkward with you. But still, you’d let hell freeze over before letting Lee Donghyuck think he was a better fuck than somebody else. However, you’re pretty sure you’ve broken that promise to yourself from the way you’re breathlessly panting and gasping from the vigorous drilling of his cock. That or hell genuinely has frozen over.
But still, what did he expect? The two of you couldn’t go half a second without a petty argument. Sometimes you find yourself just doing it because you were bored and he was there. After all, it’s just the norm between the two of you.
That’s why you can’t quite understand why he’s taking a stupid comment said in a passing game of truth or dare to heart. You’ve said worse to him, you're sure of it.
Hyuck pulls out of your pussy and the emptiness that lingers between your legs has you groaning – even if it’s just for a second. He doesn’t give you long to harp on the loss of friction because he wastes no time dropping your leg from his hip, gripping your waist and slamming the front of your body against his locker.
You want to make another snarky comment about his roughness, but you secretly love it. Well, it’s not so secret actually — Hyuck is well aware that you like his manhandling because he feels your wetness becoming more slick on his cock as he thrusts into you from behind.
His pace in the new position is still tortuous, slow and teasing, and so fucking annoyingly good. But you don’t know how much longer you can take the tormenting leisurely pace. You want more - you need more. If he didn't have your arms pinned behind you and you flush against the lockers, you’d claw at his back to make him go faster.
You feel a warmth on the nape of your neck as he nuzzles against your ear, placing a kiss so gently, that you’re shocked at the sudden contrast in his demeanour.
“This the shittest fuck you’ve had, huh?”
No.
“Yes,” you reply and he growls deeply. There’s a rough snap of his hips and it catches you off guard so much you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a whimper.
“Fucking liar,” he scoffs.
The insult makes your face screw up in a glare, but still, all you can manage is a breathy, “Am not.”
No matter how good the length of his cock is making you feel, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right – that he’s not the worst fuck on the soccer team. Not that you had much experience with the others.
But even though you refuse to use your words to tell him you’re loving it, your body betrays you by being so fucking responsive to his touches. And no matter how hard you fight against him, Hyuck never lets you gain an inch. In fact, every time you try to free your arms from his, he lets out a frustrated groan, and the sound only makes your pussy throb harder.
His hand slips up your body until it finds your throat, where his fingers dig into either side of your neck. He stops his thrusts.
“Well if you’re not lying, are you saying I’m a shitty fuck princess?” He asks innocently as if he’s about to be gentle with you, but you know better. After all, this is Donghyuck. “If you want to pretend like you don’t want this; if that helps you sleep at night, then fine, but your slutty cunt is so fucking wet, I can almost feel you soaking my balls.”
He ducks down to place a kiss on your jaw, and you feel his lips smile into it as you shudder from his words. Instinctively, you swing your head away from him, only to be yanked back by the hand around your throat. He chuckles against your skin, hips starting to move again, thrusting shallowly into your stretched cunt.
“If I’m such a shitty fuck, I supposed you want me to stop, huh?” He asks in a low voice, lips grazing your cheek.
Noises you’ve never heard yourself make before tumble from your mouth as you moan and sob shamelessly. You try to bite your tongue, try not to fuel his ego, but his rhythm is too good at tearing down your guard, which is why you find yourself crying out, “Please don’t stop!”
He laughs, fucking you harder and faster, the stings of pain from his cock hitting you so deep morphing into a hot ache of pleasure that coils tighter and tighter in your core.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls.
His fingers, still on your throat press into your skin, not hard enough to cut off your air supply but just enough pressure to force out strangled moans. Your shoulders rub against the coarse material of his soccer kit, grounding you against him as he fucks you in punishing thrusts.
You don’t want to admit it, but your body can’t resist it.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” you mumble, eyes squeezed tight together.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me like a good little slut?” he murmurs into your temples
The low rumble of his voice has the tension in your core ratcheting higher, pushing you closer to your release. Your head feels like it’s floating as the tight spring in your stomach coils until it finally snaps and has your knees buckling beneath you.
Hyuck keeps his speed steady, fucking you through your climax and savouring the way your walls clench around him in rigid spasms. Your orgasm triggers his and he clenches his jaw.
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he ruts into you harder, and all you can do is moan for him.
“Please,” you whimper.
He chuckles at your submission - he’s never seen you like this before - so needy and desperate. He didn’t think it was possible to love anything about you; but this right here, you fucked out and pleading for his cum, yeah, he fucking loves it.
He ruts into you a last few times with thrusts that are wild and more frenzied, his thighs slapping against your ass. He contemplates cumming inside of you, but he figures he’d save that for another day since the two of you had forgotten about a condom and hadn’t really discussed it.
And…did he just think about having sex with you again?
With a loud groan that rattles against the metal in the empty locker room, Hyuck pulls out of your cunt and jerks his cock until he’s cumming onto the small of your back. Unable to stop yourself, you moan softly and a stupid smile spreads across your face when you hear him sigh.
After that it's silent, only your rapid breaths echoing in the room. He’s pressed against you, face buried in your neck, holding you and your weak legs in place. You stay like that for a beat, but then you remember who it is that’s just fucked you.
Without any more hesitation, you shake his grip and push him away from you. "Christ! Stop breathing down my neck. Fucking gross."
If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s your arch nemesis you would have stayed tangled up in him a little while longer, letting yourself get soaked up in the fact that that was the best sex you’ve ever had.
As you turn around to face him, he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on his face.
“There’s a towel in my bag if you want to…”
You scoff, “How chivalrous of you.”
You pull the towel from the bag in his locker and start wiping at his cum on your back. Your body is turned away from him but you can still feel his eyes lingering on you as you wipe away.
You stop to look at him, “What are you still doing here? We have a game in like 10 minutes. Shouldn’t you be like…warming up or something?”
“I think I’m already warmed up,” he mumbles and you shake your head with a smile, going back to cleaning yourself off.
“Seriously, get on the pitch,” you demand when you see him still lingering.
There’s a hand in his hair, scratching his head and he looks a little flushed. You never see him like this, it’s weird. The Hyuck you know and loathe is cocky, smug, arrogant, all of those kinds of words; but the one in front of you looks so awkward, flushed. Is it weird you kinda like it?
“Are you waiting for me to tell you you aren’t a bad fuck or something? Seriously Hyuck, get lost,” you try and joke, pulling down your cheer uniform.
“No..I…” he stumbles.
You groan, “Oh no, don’t do this. Don’t make things weird.”
“I’m not—”
“Can’t you just be like a normal guy and…I don’t know, say it felt good to fuck me like you hate me or some shit?”
His eyes sweep over your face as if he were studying you. His face softens and he steps closer.
“I mean I could say that, because it felt fucking amazing actually,” he says and you swallow thickly. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”
You pause, freezing as he comes towards you. You don’t even register how close he is until you feel his breath on your lips and his chest against yours.
“What?”
“I don’t actually hate you that much,” he admits, and your eyes widen.
“Yeah right, funny joke,” you roll your eyes and laugh sarcastically but he’s not laughing with you. In fact he’s just looking at you, deadpan, and it’s starting to freak you out.
When you realise that he is in fact serious, you cross your hands across your chest.
“You’re not gonna start doing all that cheesy shit they do in the movies, where you profess your undying love for me, and tell me you never really hated me and it was all just a miscommunication, are you?”
“Fuck no!” He almost gags at the mention of it. “Just because I said I don’t hate you that much doesn’t mean I like you? Are you crazy?”
“Well I’m just making sure,” you poke his chest.
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “But I do wanna do this again…” he trails off so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard it if there was anybody else in the room with you.
“This?”
“Yes, this. Us. Fucking,” he explains. “I fucking hate you, but fuck, I think I love your pussy.”
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meazalykov · 6 months ago
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rings rings rings
lena oberdorf x reader
summary: a joke in the community makes you come to a realization
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the teasing had always been a lighthearted joke, something you and lena both laughed about. 
it started almost immediately after you two went public with your relationship. after you guys started dating in 2020, you guys decided to not tell the public about your relationship until a couple of years in. 
after transferring from barcelona to bayern munich in 2022, and shortly after lena’s second place spot in the EUROS– thats when the public had confirmation about the two of you.  
it wasn’t just the fans who started their relentlessness. your teammates had their fun, too.
your bayern and national teammates instagram stories were flooded with subtle hints—photos of you holding hands, captions about the "future mrs. oberdorf" and even cheeky comments from giulia and laura with ring emojis when lena and you celebrated your fourth anniversary. 
lea, lena’s best friend and your close friend, was the ringleader of the proposal jokes. every time you and lena were out with her, she’d find a way to bring up engagement rings. 
"so, lena," lea would say with a mischievous grin, "when’s the big day? or are you still searching for the perfect ring to put on y/n’s pretty finger?" 
lena would roll her eyes and laugh it off, but you could tell the idea was planted in her head. 
there were jokes during training sessions, comments during team dinners. when lena transferred to bayern from wolfsburg in july 2024– pernille managed to get the entire squad to start humming the wedding march when you two walked into the locker room together.
lena had told you her plan ages ago—she was going to propose during the winter of 2024. it was perfect. the winter break meant no football to distract you, just the two of you alone in the peace of the snowy bavarian countryside. 
you loved the idea, and though you tried to keep it out of your head so you could focus on football, you couldn't help but daydream about how it would unfold, how you would say yes without hesitation.
one day during the pre-season, before the olympics, everyone was cooling down after practice, some even joking around, when pernille and magda walked in with matching grins. they were holding hands and had the kind of look that hinted at something big. 
they exchanged a quick glance before pernille cleared her throat, immediately drawing the attention of the room.
“we’ve got some news,” pernille started, her voice light with her danish accent clear but laced with excitement. 
magda lifted her hand, showing off a simple but stunning engagement ring that sparkled under the fluorescent lights.
“we’re engaged!” magda announced, and the room erupted into cheers and applause. 
teammates rushed over to congratulate them, voices overlapping as everyone admired the ring and shared in the couple’s happiness.
amid the celebration, sydney, who had been stretching in the corner while scrolling on her phone, looked over at lena, who was smiling widely at the news. 
with a mischievous glint in her eye, sydney couldn’t resist.
“hey, lena,” sydney called out, her tone teasing making sure that the entire locker room heard her. 
“so, when are you gonna propose to y/n? or are you just going to let pernille and magda steal the spotlight?”
the locker room fell silent for a split second before erupting into laughter and more teasing. 
klara, always quick with a quip, chimed in, “yeah, lena, what’s the holdup? everyone has been waiting!”
lea joined in, a playful grin on her face. “maybe she’s just waiting for the perfect moment. or maybe y/n should propose first?”
lena felt her cheeks flush under the sudden attention, but she played it cool, offering a lopsided smile. 
“soon,” she replied, her voice steady despite the amount of teasing. “it’s gonna happen, don’t worry.”
the room buzzed with excited murmurs and jokes, but before anyone could press her further, lena’s gaze drifted to the door. 
y/n wasn’t there in the locker room, and she hadn’t been for a while. lena knew she had gone to check on ana in the medical area, making sure their teammate (who came back from an acl injury) was okay after a tough tackle during training. 
but the laughter and congratulations for pernille and madga continued to swirl around her, lena’s mind wandered to the ring she had already picked out, the one tucked safely away at home. 
she had planned everything, just waiting for the right moment to propose. 
but then the injury happened. an acl tear right before the olympics, a devastating blow to lena’s season and your hearts. 
you were happy to win gold at the olympics, but you were sad that lena couldn’t celebrate bronze with her german teammates. 
the surgery, the long recovery, the endless rehab—it took over everything once you got back to munich. 
and with it, lena’s plan to propose was quietly shelved. 
your taller german girlfriend even joked, with a bittersweet smile, that she wouldn’t be able to get down on one knee now, and you both shared a quiet laugh over it, trying to mask the disappointment.
it wasn’t long before the teasing at lena shifted.
“well, y/n, if lena’s knee is messed up, i guess it’s your turn to get down on one knee.”  tuva, with her sharp and sweet humor, was the first to mention it in the full bayern locker room. 
you laughed it off at first, just like lena had, but the teasing continued. 
more teammates joined in, some of your national teammates started to become aware of the jokes in germany and joined in. 
and suddenly, it was you who was being nudged toward proposing.
at first, you tried to brush it off, but there was something in the way lena looked at you—hopeful, maybe even a little relieved—that stayed with you. 
the idea took root, just as it had with her. it's been four years since you and lena started dating– when you were at barcelona and she at wolfsburg. you wanted her to be your wife. 
and before you knew it, you found yourself visiting jewelers, searching for the perfect ring. 
your pupils would have formed into a heart (if that was possible) when you spotted a delicate band with a single, sparkling diamond—it was simple yet elegant, just like lena.
you didn’t tell anyone about your plan. not tuva, not lea, not even your closest friends on the team.
it was something you wanted to keep between you and lena, a surprise that would catch her completely off guard. you didn’t need lena to overhear the teasing trolls that you had for teammates. 
the timing felt right as thanksgiving break approached—a quiet moment, just the two of you, away from the pressures of football.
the day you decided to propose, you could feel the excitement ripping throughout your body, but also a touch of nerves. 
lena had always been the one everyone expected to take the lead, since she was more of the “dominant” one in your relationship– but it was your turn first, and you wanted it to be perfect.
you planned a small getaway, just the two of you, in a cozy cabin nestled in the forests near munich. 
the air was crisp, the sky a brilliant shade of pink and orange due to the sunset, and everything seemed to sparkle in the winter light. 
you both took a small walk through a trail by the cabin. this was the first time that lena got cleared to walk without any cane or assist. 
this made you both happy as the two of you were laughing and chatting about everything and nothing. 
looking away from lena’s beautiful face, you reached the spot where you had decided to do it—a clearing with a view of the mountains in the distance.
you stopped, turning to face lena, who looked at you with a curious smile. 
she notices your face, you tried to look strong but your eyes showed something different. 
"what’s up?" she asked, her breath visible in the cold air.
you took a deep breath, smiling as you reached into your jean pocket and pulling out the small box. 
lena’s eyes widened as realization dawned on her, and you could see the tears starting to form.
“lena,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, 
“i know we always joked about who would propose first, and i know this isn’t how you planned it due to unfortunate circumstances. but i love you so much, ever since that wolfsburg and barcelona match. ever since then i couldn’t imagine my life without you. will you marry me?”
for a moment, lena was speechless. she stared at the ring, then back at you, her eyes shimmering with emotion. 
"y/n, are you serious?" she whispered, her voice shaky.
"absolutely. i’ve never been more serious about anything." you nodded, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. 
lena’s reaction was immediate. she threw her strong arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, her tears soaking into your neck and jacket. 
"yes," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. "yes, a million times yes!!" she pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes full of love and disbelief. 
"i can’t believe you did this. i was supposed to propose to you first." she held your face in her hands as she kept your body close to hers.
"well, you can still propose to me later, but i couldn’t wait any longer." you laughed, wiping away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. 
you slid the ring onto her finger, both of you laughing and crying at the same time. lena looked down at the ring, her hand shaking slightly as she admired it. 
"it’s perfect, y/n," she said, her voice full of wonder. "you’re perfect."
later at night, as you sat together by the fire in the cabin, wrapped in blankets, lena leaned her body on top of yours as her head rested on your shoulder. 
"you know," she murmured, her voice soft and full of warmth, "i was always going to propose first. i had this whole plan."
"i know, but i beat you to it." you smiled, kissing her forehead gently. 
the teasing might have started as a joke, but in the end, it led to a moment neither of you would ever forget—a moment that was entirely yours.
my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3
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girlgenius1111 · 1 year ago
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homecoming
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jenni hermoso x reader smut! 18+ jenni returns from a trip without you, intent on reminding you of who you belong to. you are only interested in proving to her that you've forgotten who is in charge.
warnings: dom/sub undertones, cockwarming, strap on use, cunnilingus, fingering, orgasm delay/denial, light choking...
-----
Resisting the urge to throw your phone across the room, you pressed the little heart in the bottom of your screen. Jenni's tattooed, muscular body, in a very small swimsuit was staring back at you, her smirk more than taunting. It had to be the 500th photo of her from this girls trip she was on, without you. You knew what she was trying to accomplish by posting them constantly.
You were so extremely done with it. You were practically vibrating with energy, and though it was not the kind that a workout would alleviate, a plan had begun to form in your head.
You put on your tightest spandex shorts and a matching black sports bra, heading into the home gym. Very few workouts had occurred in this room in the house that you and Jenni shared that hadn't ended in a different kind of workout. The memory of Jenni all over you on the weight bench, not patient enough to drag you out of the room, was making you miss the striker even more.
You went through your usual routine, starting with a long jog on the treadmill. You recorded a quick story while running, allowing the video to capture most of your upper body as you ran. You put a song over it, forgoing a caption for now.
Then, you moved over to the weights. Once again, you set your phone up, recording yourself doing squats with the bar held over your shoulders. You paused, adding the clip to your story, grinning to yourself when you noticed that Jenni had already seen your previous story. Jenni had told you once that when she went away, she would turn on your post notifications, not wanting to miss getting a glimpse of you, even if you talked on the phone every night that she was gone.
When you were done with the workout you were sweating appropriately, and your muscles were slightly more defined. Satisfied, you posed in front of the mirror, making sure as much of you as possible was clearly visible before taking a picture, and adding that to your story too.
Not 10 seconds later, your phone was ringing with an incoming call from your girlfriend. You denied it, knowing exactly what she was looking for with this well timed call, heading off to shower. Jenni didn't like to be ignored.
You didn't feel guilty in the least, though. If there was one surefire way to get Jenni to give you what you wanted, it was to make her realize just how much she missed you.
-----
Any more low cut, and your tits would have been falling out of the dress. It was intentional; you'd had to suffer through Jenni's swimsuit-related teasing. Teasing her back, with your own revealing photos, hadn't really scratched the itch. You wanted to tease her in person, make her crazy for you. More than that, you wanted her to fuck you. In the bathroom of the restaurant, in the back of the car, you didn't care. She probably could have thrown you on the table in front of the everyone, and no complaint would have left your lips.
Jenni, however, had not taken kindly to your teasing; of course not. She was possessive, loving nothing more than to leave marks all over your body, in case anyone in the locker room wasn't aware that you very much belonged to her. Posting the cheeky sports bra and athletic shorts pictures to your story, body glistening with sweat, muscles bulging from the workout you'd just completed had, as you'd hoped, driven her crazy.
She didn't doubt that you were hers; she was too confident, too cocky for that. Jenni just disliked sharing, your body was not just hers to touch, but also hers to look at. Something you'd evidently forgotten. Her own teasing wasn't even a thought in her head; you didn't get jealous like her. Her photos made you horny, not upset. Yours had made her both.
This was how you found yourself sitting in a rather fancy restaurant, frustratingly across the table from your girlfriend, who was gazing at you with a burning look in her eyes. She'd met you there, as you'd come from a media event, so there was no opportunity to get rid of some of the tension before being in such a public location.
Jenni hadn't bothered with more than a soft kiss pressed to your cheek and a tight hug before pulling your chair out for you, and beginning to talk animatedly about her trip. Her eyes gave her away, flicking down towards your chest, her tongue moistening her lips, as she lost her train of thought.
"What was that, baby?" You asked, resting your chin on your hand and leaning forward slightly, giving Jenni the opportunity to look directly down your shirt.
She exhaled slowly, regaining her composure and looking you straight in the eye. "We had a lot of fun. It was hot, though, I could barely stand to wear more than a swimsuit."
"It was warm here, too. I did most of my morning runs in just shorts and a sports bra." Your girlfriend's jaw clenched, an eyebrow raising as if to challenge you. If there was one thing Jenni loved, it was watching you run. It was almost obscene the way she watched you, eyes glued to your chest as you jogged. It was fine when you were wearing a shirt, not much was visible, but if you were just in a sports bra? Forget it. A workout was getting done, but not the one you had planned.
Your eyes lit up when you noticed that someone was approaching and it was your waitress. An objectively attractive waitress at that.
She introduced herself, and you felt Jenni's hard gaze on you at you as sent the waitress a sparkling smile, and complimented her earrings.
You ordered for yourself, cutting Jenni off just before she was about to speak. "And my friend will have..." you picked something you knew she would like, though you were fairly sure she was about to drag you out of the restaurant before the order could reach the kitchen.
The waitress left the table, and you allowed yourself to grin, looking up at your girlfriend. Jenni had one hand clenched in a tight fist, the other raking back through her dark hair.
"Go get in the car. I will pay." She said lowly.
"Jen, we haven't eaten," you said innocently.
She scoffed. "Do not make things worse for yourself. Go get in the car." The striker warned. Deciding you'd taken it far enough, and also feeling like you probably couldn't sit through dinner at this point, you stood, trailing a finger up Jenni's arm until she was out of reach, and you were heading out the door.
-----
Jenni had parked her car in the corner of the lot outside the restaurant, and it just so happened that it was rather secluded. You'd had an idea on the way to the car, when you noticed that your panties were uncomfortably damp. You smiled to yourself. Why not get rid of them?
That is how your girlfriend found you when she opened the door to the car, and looked down at her seat to see your discarded thong. She was frozen for a second, before her eyes slowly moved up to you, where you sat, hand disappearing under your short dress.
It wasn't often that you left Jenni speechless; she always had something to say. She was completely still for a moment, her jaw dropped at the sheer audacity you had. Then, she was moving before you could even prepare yourself, sliding into the drivers seat and wrapping long, nimble fingers around your wrist and yanking it away from your core. You hadn't really been doing anything; nothing felt as good as your girlfriend touching you, and you'd been left to your own devices for too long for your own fingers to be very exciting.
Your finger pointer and middle finger were glistening, though, and Jenni looked at them critically, before letting go of your wrist, and wrapping her hand around your neck instead. She leaned in close, whispering in your ear even though there was no one else around to here.
"If I see you touching what is mine again tonight, you will wish I stayed in Ibiza."
"I missed you too much to wish for that." You said softly, trying to lean in towards her. Her hand kept you against the back of the headrest as she shook her head minutely at you, green eyes glinting dangerously.
"You will rethink that when I do not let you come for a month." She warned. With that, she let go of you, turning around to face forward. You instinctually rubbed at the skin of your neck, even though it didn't hurt. The pressure was perfect, and even now, you could still feel the ghost of her touch on your neck, skin tingling lightly.
Jenni didn't miss the movement, and her face softened slightly as she put the car back in park, before it had backed out even a little.
"Okay?" She asked, grabbing your hand and threading her fingers with yours.
"Yeah, I'm good." You assured her, matching the soft smile she sent you. For all her bravado, all her cockiness, and though Jenni loved making you blush, making you squirm, making you scream her name, she loved seeing you smile at her more than anything else.
She brought your joined hands to her lips, leaving a soft kiss on the back of yours. With that, she reversed out of the parking spot, heading towards your shared apartment. She was calm and collected, but the speed with which she drove told the truth; she was very eager to get you home.
You thought you were getting your way. It didn't occur to you that Jenni was luring you into a false sense of security. You were very pleased with yourself, sitting in the passenger seat, your girlfriend's hand in yours. Jenni maintained her poker face, giving nothing away as she reviewed her plan in her head; a plan that had been in place from the very first instagram story you posted, and one that had only grown more severe as you continued to tease Jenni. She was still planning on giving you what you wanted, in the end, until your behavior at the restaurant. Not anymore.
You remained blissfully unaware, knee bouncing excitedly as you gazed out the window, no idea what you were in for.
-----
You didn't quite remember getting from the car inside the house and up to the bedroom; it was a blur of Jenni's lips & hands all over you, guiding you up the stairs as you let her take full control.
Your eyes opened for the first time since you entered the house when Jenni leaned up off of you, pausing to look at your dress for a moment, before bringing her hands to the hem, and tearing the fabric until the dress was completely ripped.
"Jennifer!" You complained, glaring up at her. She only grinned at you in response, peeling off her own shirt and bra and discarding them, not bothering with her pants for the moment. She yanked the now ruined dress out from under you, before nudging your legs apart and settling in between them.
"You missed me, huh?" She rasped, spreading you apart with her fingers. You only exhaled loudly in response, and she withdrew her hand, looking up at you with her eyebrows raised. "No? You did not miss me?" Jenni moved as if to get off the bed, and you whined pathetically, already reduced to a very weak version of yourself underneath your girlfriend.
"I missed you, missed you so much," you promised, relaxing back into the mattress when Jenni grinned triumphantly and returned to lay between your legs. She didn't waste anymore time, leaning her face closer and dragging her tongue through you. You sighed in relief, letting your eyes fall shut. Jenni knew every inch of you, knew how to make you feel good in a way you never had before her.
Jenni was merciless with her tongue, focusing her attention on your clit and humming against it as the taste of you filled her mouth. "Tan mojada para mi," she said breathily.
She steadily worked you up, tongue flicking at your swollen clit until your legs were twitching under her. She moved down slightly, pressing her tongue into you, feeling your walls pulse around it. Jenni didn't spend long with that, moving back up to your clit and sliding a finger through your wetness before pushing it into you. Your back arched, incredibly sensitive from an entire week of needing her.
You didn't think to be suspicious, or wary, when Jenni pushed you hard, 1 finger becoming 2, then becoming 3, rapidly fucking in and out of you, her tongue lapping at you with the same rhythm.
She knew you were close before you said anything, your walls tightening until she had a hard time moving her fingers, your legs wrapping around her upper body.
"J-Jenni, I'm so close," you warned her, expecting her to pick up her pace. Instead, she eased her fingers out of you, ignoring the pitiful sound of complained you let out.
"Jenni, please baby" you groaned. Jenni leaned off of you and towards the bedside table, and you took advantage of her momentary distraction, letting your hand slip between your thighs. As if she could sense it, your girlfriend's whipped around to glare at you.
"You will wait if I want you to," she said aggressively, waiting until your head retreated before returning to the nightstand to pick out the perfect strap to ruin you with.
She took much too long, in your opinion, to choose, but finally she turned back around to face you, now completely naked except for the harness and dildo strapped around her waist. The brunette settled back against the pillow and motioned you over. Eagerly, you scrambled forward, letting her maneuver you onto her lap, back to her chest, slowly sinking down onto the strap.
"You feel so good inside of me," you whimpered, pausing as you adjusted to the size.
"Take it all, I know you can," Jenni encouraged, an arm around your stomach pressing you further down as you panted and moaned, until all of her was inside of you. "There you go, taking my whole cock like the needy slut you are,"
Her words made you feel like you were melting into her, relaxing back into her body, and waiting for her to start to thrust up into you. She didn't move though, so you tried to lift your hips, and fuck down onto her cock, but her arm tightened around your abdomen, holding you tight against her. You probably could have moved if you wanted to, but her wishes were clear, and you weren't feel as bratty anymore, you just wanted Jenni to tell you how good you were being. You remained still, even as your girlfriend reached over to grab her phone from the side of the bed, peeking at it over your shoulder and unlocking it. She went right to the camera roll, scrolling a bit before clicking on a photo, still unmoving inside of you. The novelty of the stretch was fading, quickly becoming painfully arousing.
"Jenni, what the fuck are you doing?" You complained, growing more and more frustrated with each passing minute that your girlfriend was not destroying you like you wanted.
"You did not let me finish telling you about my trip. I wanted to show you some pictures." She told you very calmly, as if she wasn't buried deep inside of you, as if she couldn't feel your legs shaking against her.
"Jenni, I swear to god," you sighed, beginning to remove yourself from her strap. She dropped her phone onto the bed, reflexes lightening quick, pressing you back down into her. At the same time, you felt her jerk her hips up into you, just a bit. It was enough for you to sink back into her, letting your head fall to rest on her shoulder. She didn't move again though, and when you opened your eyes, it was to see her holding her phone in front of you, waiting patiently for your attention.
"Are you kidding?" You laughed humorlessly.
"No. I am very serious. This is me at the beach," Jenni began, before swiping to the next picture. "This is me at the beach again. And on the boat. This is a cool bird I saw. Here is me without my top on. And me and Leila, doing flips into the water,"
Aside from the topless picture, which definitely peaked your interest, it was the most unsexy thing you'd ever endured in your entire life, despite the fact that you could feel her inside of you. You were about to tell her so, when she swiped again, and your words died in your mouth.
"This is me naked in the shower." She continued on in the same nonchalant tone as before, as if she hadn't just presented you with significantly more interesting content to look at. "Here I am fucking myself with that vibrator you like. And with my fingers. Do you want to see me come? I think I have a video."
You were floored. Jenni was confident, cocky at times, you knew that. The way she was showing you these photos, though, it was like she didn't even possess the ability to feel embarrassment. You knew that if the roles were reversed, and you were showing her these photos of yourself, you would be blushing red, hiding your face in her shoulder.
"Oh, here it is." Again, your girlfriend's voice was completely not reflective of the situation at hand, and something about how absolutely unbothered she seemed made you clench around her.
Jenni clicked play on the video, and the sound of her crying out your name filled the room, the camera positioned perfectly for you to watch her fingers pumping in and out of herself with obscenely loud, wet noises.
You'd been pretty good up until this point, not shifting much in her lap, but your strength collapsed entirely at this point. Your hips ground down against her pathetically, and you dug your nails into the arm she had wrapped around your stomach.
"No, pay attention." She said, moving the phone closer to your face.
"Jenni, jesus christ," you complained, still for only a second before you restarted the small circular motions with your hips, unable to help yourself. With how good she felt inside of you, unmoving, you knew it would 100x better if she would just fuck you.
Without warning, Jenni tossed her phone away from her, spun you around on top of her, her cock twisting deliciously inside of your pulsing cunt. She'd laid down further now, and you were in the perfect position to ride her. Her hands had an iron grip on your hips, though, and though you tried to move yourself up and down with your legs, you couldn't get anywhere. You frowned down at her, feeling so very full yet so unsatisfied at the same time.
"Did you think there would be no punishment? For those slutty stories, and the way you acted at dinner? I did not think I was gone long enough for you to forget who was in charge, mi amor."
"Jenni, I'm sorry, I didn't forget, I just missed you,"
Jenni continued on as if you hadn't spoken. "I had plans for you amor. I do not think you deserve to come as many times as I was planning anymore."
"Jenni, no no, please," you cried, eyes beginning to fill with tears. It was torturous, the way she was pressed up into you, unmoving. Every inhale jostled you slightly, and the minuscule movement only made you feel needier. You were dripping onto her lap, you knew, but Jenni didn't seem to be in a very forgiving mood this evening.
You'd messed up.
"No." She said simply.
"Jen, please," you begged, moving a hand to rest on her cheek, her stony expression remaining unchanging.
"Who is in charge here?" She asked finally, her voice a dangerous whisper. The volume didn't diminish the power behind it.
"You." Your reply was instant, and your girlfriend nodded.
"Tell me again."
"You, you're in charge, Jenni."
"You are mine, sí?"
"Yes, yours."
"And only mine?"
"Only yours, baby."
"Prove it." She said, and you nodded frantically.
"Anything, Jen, I'll do anything,"
"Get off." You paled at her words, now shaking your head, just slightly. Jenni smiled devilishly up at you, not waiting for a response before she easily lifted you up off her cock and dumped you gently onto the bed next to her. "Hands and knees."
You moved instantly, flipping onto your stomach and pressing up onto your knees, resting your elbows on the bed. Jenni shifted until she was kneeled directly behind you.
"Escúchame. I said hands and knees, not elbows and knees." Her voice was harsh, and she gripped your ponytail, pulling hard until you were resting on your hands instead of your forearms.
"Bueno. ¿Estás listo para mí?" You could only nod, breathing hard, as she dragged her cock through your folds, positioning it against your hole and pausing. "Creo que eres."
She pushed into you with one thrust, and you yelped, the movement inside of you after so long of stillness almost overwhelming. Jenni set a punishing pace, her hips smacking into yours as she filled you up, her toned thighs working hard.
"Feels good?" She asked, letting go of your hair in favor of wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling your body up flush against her. Her hips didn't stop, and you gripped onto her arm tight.
"Good, so good," you moaned. You were close already, your ruined orgasm from before combining with all the time Jenni had spent inside of you, unmoving to leave you a shaking, whimpering mess.
"I can tell you are close already, hmm? Do you want to come?"
"Yes, Jenni, my god, please," you pleaded, not concerned with how pathetic you sounded.
"You want to come?" She asked again, adjusting her angle slightly so that the tip of her cock was rubbing insistently against the spongy spot deep inside of you.
"God-yes," you managed, whole body trembling with the strength with your building orgasm.
Horrifyingly, as soon as the words left your mouth, Jenni slowed down, hand wrapping around your neck as she nibbled on your earlobe, before speaking into your ear.
"Do you think you deserve it?" She asked.
Somewhere inside of your absolutely melted brain, you knew what the right answer was.
"I- I don't know." You cried, "You're in charge, you decide, not me,"
"Muy buena bonita," she cooed into your ear, pushing you back down onto your knees, pushing your head down into the bed, and picking up her speed again. This time, she didn't slow down, reaching an arm around to rub tight circles over your clit.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, please let me come," you begged, unwilling to let yourself go until Jenni told you that you could.
She smirked, knowing she had you right back where she wanted you.
"Go ahead," she told you, admiring how your whole body shook violently, how you screamed her name, instantly falling over the edge at her words.
You thought you were going to black out for a minute, the pleasure completely taking over all of your senses as the waves of your orgasm rocked through you. It felt endless, until there was nothing left in your head. Eventually, you whimpered pathetically, trying to pull away from Jenni's slow thrusts into you, working you through it.
"That is it? You can only take one?" She mocked, pulling out even as she did so, rubbing your ass softly before easing you onto your back. You flopped down, chest still heaving as you blinked, completely dazed, up at her.
"Jen," you whispered, reaching out a shaky hand towards her. Her unbothered expression broke into a familiar dazzling grin, and you felt your cheeks flush at the pride on her face.
"My good girl, my perfect girl," she cooed, quickly taking off the strap before settling on top of you, knowing you liked to feel her body pressing down on yours. She left soft kisses where her face was pressed into your neck, and you sighed happily, even as her hair tickled your bare skin.
"Love you," you whispered, and Jenni laughed softly at how fucked out you sounded.
"I love you too, mi niña bonita."
"I missed you." You said, although you told her before, the words holding a stronger meaning now.
"I missed you, too." Jenni replied, pulling her head away from your neck to press her forehead to yours. It could have been left unsaid, considering the way she'd just made you fall apart, and the way you'd clearly been craving it, but it was nice to hear, nonetheless. Jenni never left anything unspoken, letting you know how much she loved you every second of every day. Her caring actions were a nice reminder, and you thought to yourself that you really did prefer it when she was in charge.
-----
i was going to have a nervous breakdown if i spent anymore time trying to figure out a better ending so you get what you get and you don't get upset.
not too sure how i feel about this honestly, i feel like i'm missing something, but i can't figure out what, so you get it before i delete and restart.
hope you enjoy, jenni girlies :)
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prettygirl-gabi · 1 month ago
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Chapter 5: In the Spotlight
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Rating: General Audiences
Warning: none
Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader
Fandom: Women's basketball
Summary: being the "babysitter"= fun...right?
Welcome to the chapter 5 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸
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The whispers started as soon as I entered the gym for practice the day after the Villanova game. People were staring, their eyes darting between their phones and me. A couple of players from the men’s team even snickered when I walked past.
I didn’t understand what was going on until KK intercepted me by the bleachers, her expression somewhere between amused and concerned.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
She sighed and held up her phone. On the screen was a blurry video of me walking into the locker room at Villanova. The caption read: “Paige Bueckers’ mystery girl? 👀”
I groaned, my face heating up. “Are you kidding me? This is so out of context!”
“Yeah, but people love a good rumor,” KK said, scrolling through the comments. “Most of them are just shipping you and Paige.”
“Shipping us?” I echoed, incredulous. “We’re not even—”
“Relax,” she cut in, her tone gentle. “It’s just noise. Don’t let it get to you.”
But it did get to me. All day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was watching me, judging me. By the time practice ended, I was ready to throw in the towel on my entire final project.
I went straight to Coach Geno’s office, my camera bag slung over my shoulder. He looked up from his desk, his brow furrowing when he saw me.
“Y/N, what’s going on?”
“I can’t do this anymore,” I said, placing my project proposal on his desk. “The rumors, the stares—it’s too much. I didn’t sign up for this.”
He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Let me ask you something. Why did you choose this project?”
I hesitated. “Because I wanted to challenge myself. To tell a story that mattered.”
“And do you think you’ve done that so far?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He stood, walking around his desk to stand in front of me. “I see potential in you, Y/N. You have an eye for this—an instinct. Don’t let a bunch of gossip derail what could be an incredible project. Push through. Finish what you started.”
I nodded, his words sinking in. “Okay. I’ll try.”
Later that evening, I found myself in the gym. The empty court was a welcome reprieve from the noise of the day. I was adjusting my camera settings when the sound of sneakers on hardwood made me look up.
Paige.
“Hey,” she said, her smile soft. “Mind if I join you?”
I shook my head, and she dropped her bag on the sidelines before walking over. “Rough day?”
“You could say that,” I replied, letting out a bitter laugh.
“Let me guess,” she said, crossing her arms. “The video?”
I nodded, surprised she even knew about it.
“People are ridiculous,” she said. “But you can’t let them win. Come on.”
She grabbed a ball and motioned for me to follow her to the three-point line. “Let’s work off some of that pressure. I mean granted im kinda banned drom practice though.”
“I’m terrible at basketball, and yeah you are banned.” I warned.
“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me as your coach, speaking of coah i asked fo sit with you..so like you're my babysitter” she said with a evil grin.
The first few shots were laughably bad, but Paige was patient, adjusting my form and giving me tips. By the time I finally sank a three, I was laughing so hard I almost dropped the ball.
“There you go!” she cheered, throwing her arms in the air.
“Beginner’s luck,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
She pulled out her phone, recording me as I took another shot. “For posterity,” she said when I gave her a questioning look.
“Hang on,” I said, running out to my car to grab my personal camera. When I came back, she was dribbling the ball lazily at half-court.
“Let’s use this instead,” I said, setting up the tripod.
We spent the next hour goofing off, filming everything from trick shots to ridiculous commentary. Paige even tried to reenact her infamous Villanova assist, but it ended with her tripping over her own feet.
As it was getting late we headed back at my dorm, we poured Shirley Temples into a giant pitcher, the fizz of the soda filling the room.
“To surviving rumors and bad basketball shots,” Paige said, holding up her glass.
I clinked mine against hers. “And to you, for teaching me how to shoot a three.”
She laughed, leaning back against the couch. “You’re a natural.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.
As the night wore on, we sat there talking, the camera still sitting on the coffee table. Part of me wanted to grab it, to capture this moment. But another part of me knew that some things were better left undocumented, kept just between us.
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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️
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Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 .... (more to be added)
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reignpage · 3 months ago
Note
hihi social media anon here!! sorry for not clarifying but yohr thoughts on their socials!!! :))
I see I see
Gojo
Public thousands of followers because everyone knows Gojo Spam posts Not very organised Half pics of his parties but like crazy angles and blurry shots of people jumping into pools, riding bikes naked or something wild And the other half are just stupid selfies or unflattering pics of his friends Nanami totally does NOT stalk Gojo's account for any pics of his reader 👀
Geto
He has two His public professional one of highly curated pics of his studio, his motorbike, and tattoos and piercings thousands of followers Very aesthetic Black and white Chase Atlantic vibes fr fr His other one is his personal account Which is private like 50 followers He doesn't use it often Doesn't really feel like posting anything other than his works But he mostly uses it to message other people
Choso
He has a public one Doesn't really understand the point of social media Doesn't understand the distinction between public and private He posts once in a while He doesn't understand aesthetics but ends up having one anyways lol It's very grunge Usually of his art works (official ones not....👀) Once him and his reader starts dating though, suddenly its pics of her and works of his inspired by her Lots of followers surprisingly People like his work
Toji
Public Thousands of followers too He's like the second biggest name on campus because of his hotness and popularity and athleticism Posts mostly about basketball His stories are always updates about the NBA He posts bare thirst traps too Gym pics Shirtless pics One time, on his story, he did the pushups with audio thing in an effort to get higher on the List and people went CRAZY Gojo replied to it with: Cheat 😾
Nanami
Didn't have one until he developed a crush on reader He uses LinkedIn more lol It's private A throwaway account really Uses it to stalk Gojo and reader's accounts But once he starts dating reader, then reader forces him to be more active He gets a profile pic, a bio etc And most of his posts are made by reader So it's always silly little things like him in a lab coat and goggles Him sleeping Him reading charts and drinking coffee With the WILDEST captions There's one of him playing with a stray kitten, and the combination is the cutest thing ever But reader captioned it: wish he was playing with my kitty 😫
Sukuna
Thinks social media's stupid If he wants to know about other people's social lives, then he'll just ask or find out for himself But Gojo or Toji might set one up for him and then posts on his behalf Lots of thirst traps too Sukuna has no idea It's pics of him taking off his shirt in the locker room Or shrugging on his varsity jacket There's even a pic Toji snuck where Sukuna's showering and his eyes are closed and he's brushing his hair, head tilted back, Adam's apple so prominent, with neck veins and water droplets... And the girls go wild especially when they catch sight of his tattoos
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