#Flexibility exercises for back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 1 year ago

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ʚ FINISH INSIDE HER ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ sum. what the hell is a full nelson? no worries, luckily underground boxer toji shows you a hands-on demonstration. although, you want choso to try it with you too. not only are you a slut visual learner, but you also think you can take them both - not in a fight though.

wc. 5.8k

warnings. fem! reader, boxer! au, boxers toji & choso, 3sum, choso walks in on you and toji, unprotected, full nelson, manhandling, brief ōral (f + m), quickie, size diff, finger sucking, praise, dirty talk, choking, they fight over you, whiny choso, squırting, impact play, slight nıpple play, premature ejac, spıt.

an. kind of based on this ask!

“upsie daisey, uh huh. biiiiig fuckin’ stretch,” your mouth drops open once your thighs gets sprawled apart. your back slumps back against the fighter — toji, you’ve been training with him for a while. not only were you training with him but you’ve also been a bit of a fan. you mentioned to him on how you wanted to strengthen your ‘flexibility’ a bit more and of course, he had just the right thing to help you. out of curiosity, you asked him about a certain position you watched him perform on his rival, choso kamo. full nelson, it was considered illegal in some rings if not all. toji would always perform a specific choking move where he’d pin choso down with ease, burly buff arms putting him in a head lock - preventing him from moving a single inch. the entire crowd always goes wild at it every single time—so you wanted to try it out for yourself. “easy, easy. don’t tap out on me jus’ yet, okay? y’er a big girl.”

bobbling your head to give him a nod, an airy breeze shoves you back into his chest. the stretchy fabric of his boxing shorts tickle against your skin upon impact. “o- okay,” you breathe, gasping once he hooks two big arms underneath the undersides of your thighs. he’s got such a good taut grip that seconds later, you felt yourself throb a bit at the feverish, hot friction. “you’re not really gonna, heh, choke me out right?”

“not unless y’er into that, princess,” he jibes, a throaty husk of a chuckle leaving out of him. and as you’re spread all out, limbs extended—yeah,

you were probably fucked.

after what seems like hours of meaningless stretches and exercises to prepare your limbs, toji’s finally got you in the position — you were sprawled right in his lap, being in a safe firm chokehold.

his voice was roughly gruff, and as he spreads your legs just a bit further, you feel the cottony bandage that wraps around his arm ghost up against your thigh. his touch was gentle and you intake a sharp breath, further continuing to lean into his touch - his grasp. “mhm, seems like y’er a bit more flexible than i thought. this comfy?”

“no,” you let off a sheepish snort, starting to feel a brief pang on your thighs from the position. to be fair — not only was full nelson uncomfortable but it was dangerous. just one wrong move and snap. but toji was a professional, he’d make sure you’d keep all your pretty little limbs in tact. probably. clearing your throat, your eyes scan around a plethora of trophies and plaques he’s won throughout his career. “but um, have you ever tried this position with no clothes on?”

toji grows quiet, allowing you to lie back on his chest. black curly strands of chest hair fondle against your skin before he murmurs gruffly into your ear. “maybe.”

the growing bulge that hid underneath his boxers had you almost feral. you felt its presence—how it was just there, poking right against your shorts.

you prepare for yet another sharp drawn out breath, taking in his loud axe cologne that wafts through the entire studio. “can we try nude?”

and that was probably dumb to ask.

it was very dumb to ask.

your lewd filthy thoughts loved to make themselves known out of your lips at the worst times. your heart raced the moment you blurted that out, feeling the tips of your ears burn a scorching temperature. he’d say no, you were almost sure of it. you were just a dumb fan who managed to be a favorite, surely he wouldn’t—

“why the hell not,” he snickers, sliding his hands toward the smooth curvature of your hips. “i’ll go easy on ya for today. let’s get rid of these,” he pulls on the string of your panties, already discarding your shorts with such quickness. “i’ll try not ‘ta break you too bad.”

but that was a lie—

not only did he break you but he stretched you out in all the ways possible.

you had the most dumbest expression, tongue lolled out, legs spread, gushing all over the velvet red boxing mat - time and time again.

pink luminescent lighting shine back against the centers of your irises as you stare up at the ceiling’s lights. you’ve never felt so weak. spit slick lips of yours were all swollen and numb from being chewed on constantly like candy. within minutes, your knees were already surrendering, bucking at his very mercy.

“fuck, tooooji.” you’d drag out his name in cute elongated syllables.

the infamous elastic stretch of his cock has you writhe and spasm all over his lap. ludicrously, your voice bounces across the cheap walls of the building. nevertheless, you can’t lie to yourself, you’ve rubbed a few out at the thought of having this moment with your favorite boxer.

unprofessional, maybe. but he didn’t care and neither did you. besides, he was helping you with your flexibility after all. even if it was a bit more intimate than most regular methods.

your heart races, thumping out quick hurried beats as he’s shoving his cock in and out of you. you’re in such a submissive position that you were just a bobble head, a doll. he treated you like one — using your body, bouncing you up and down and manhandling you all over the mat.

he gruffly cackles behind the plushy shell of your ear, watching right before his eyes as you’re jouncing on his dick. your skin was so warm, so hot, the recoil stings for a few seconds before your ass ricochets off his sharp pelvis.

the smacks and paps only grew louder, and so did your sweet melodic moans and whimpers.

a creamy pearl of a ring coats around his base and he grunts, still having a beefy arm around your neck. his muscles flex and you fight the urge to bite his bicep. “easy, good girl. lean right into me. y’er a natural.”

his words went straight to your cunt. toji was a dirty talker, never a sweet talker.

he knew how to get you wet, whether it was with his slick mouth, his tongue, or even his cock. his voice was always so low, timbre and all. the husk that it carried never failed to make you soaked. embarrassing,

oh, it definitely was embarrassing.

he’s got a free hand gripping onto your thigh, kissing your ass with his palm - rough rude spanks.

the cute flinches of your rear bouncing back against his lap makes him slide a tongue over his lips, including sliding over that notorious scar that slides down the right side of his mouth. “fuck, so fuckin’ sloppy. got the mat all soaked. should make ya lick it up, huh.”

you couldn’t even reply . . you tried, but babbles of inaudible squeaks came out instead.

it just felt too good, he felt too good.

you’re panting heavily, the repetitive pop song that blared through the boxing ring’s broken speakers gets stuck in your head. you hear the moist wails of your pussy squelching time and time again, entirely soaking yourself with your own beloved filth. a free hand of toji’s creeps its way in front of you. hand so big that he could easily cover it over your entire face if he could.

with glossy half-lidded eyes, you stare at his palm, feeling your mouth water.

thick long fingers, he knew what he was doing.

toji’s just casually waving his hand around in your face in a slow mesmerizing motion as you bounced on his cock. they were so lengthy and thick, his arms had prodding veins for days. from his wrist to the edge of his arm, you saw the veins poking out. he was so built that you couldn’t help but stare, couldn’t help but drool. “what a sloppy little girl. i could really snap you in half, heh,” he huffs, clenched abs pressing against your back. it’s hard, rock hard . . they feel like bricks.

you knew underground boxers like toji had to keep up a strict workout routine but damn.

“but you’d like that, huh,” he murmurs, bringing another smack to your slick wet folds. you moan at the stretch of your limbs, craving for more of his rude spanks against your swollen cunt. you throbbed from not only his words but his touch too, and the thought of him literally breaking you had you a bit more soaked than you thought it would.

this was a workout of its own - rutting your weight up and down against him. he’s got a secure hold on your body, holding your thighs up in place.

you were stupid, not even acknowledging that you’d already grab ahold of his wrist, stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you moan the second the dry bandaged digits delve past your lips and makings way down your throat. as your ass steadily rocks against him in sloppy rhythm, you feel the very tips of his fingers prod against your puny uvula. you almost gag at the unexpected feeling—a cobwebby trail of saliva that was translucent pours down the side of your parted lips.

“no manners, tch,” he scoffs and his ripped abs continue to brush up against your back. “sloppy baby. got some nerve showin’ up to train being this fuckin’ nasty ‘n soaked.”

the hot skin against skin contact rubbing off against each other had your panties in a bunch, despite them already being technically pulled to the side and abandoned.

you were already still sensitive, swollen achy cunt sobbing out its own pleas of pleasure.

haphazardly, your knees buckle and he snatches his fingers out of your mouth. he does this solely to get a taste himself, swirling his pink pointed tongue against his slippery digits all thanks to you. “startin’ ‘ta think you came here for more than to just get an autograph ‘n work out with me, pretty girl.”

and as the plump crown of his cock molds you a tiny brief bulge from just his size alone — it repeatedly thrashes up against your sweetest spot. you shudder, about to collapse backward before you hear the jingling bells of the front door sound off.

“h- hey, toji man. did i leave my . . gloves . . ?”

choso, toji’s rival and regular training partner stares at the erotic scene and his face twists.

“oh,” and he’s flustered right away.

you stop bouncing and your eyes widen as big as saucers—yet, you weren’t even embarrassed. you were in awe, you knew all about choso kamo.

the choso kamo, anyone would be crazy not too. he was the most recent up and coming boxer, and after beating toji with a brutal close score of 58-57.

as you’re reclined back against toji—you finally get a good look at the other dark haired boxer.

he was slim yet also well built, choso was known for fighting opponents with his iconic ponytails but as of currently - he started to wear his hair down. sometimes he’d pin it up, a bit of a wolf cut that flew down his broad shoulders.

as his bashful gaze met yours, he grew nervous. very nervous.

black sable hued shorts cling onto his hips whilst he was shirtless, a few past battle scars painting the entire canvas of his perfectly chiseled body. “am i . . interrupting something?”

“nah. c’mere, ‘cho,” a husky voice calls out and he pauses in his tracks. the air suddenly clouded its way with imaginary thick smoke of lust and tension. it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

he swallows—dragging his bare feet across the crimson red mat toward you both, ducking underneath the stretchy multicolored bars before gawking at you. he was far pretty up close once he entered the practice ring, he runs a hand behind his neck before averting his eyes away from your nude body out of respect.

“he’s always been kinda shy,” toji purrs to you, still buried deep into your cunt. you shiver, every movement he makes makes—even just sitting up makes you let off a soft noise. you chew the inside of your cheek, feeling a stickiness stick between your thighs. dark green eyes flicker at choso and he hums, tilting his head. “choso, you know how to do full nelson too, yeah?”

“y- yeah, of course i do why?”

“you’re avoiding eye contact again.”

choso gulps - burying his hands into the burrows of his shorts pockets. a sheet of sweat marinates across his forehead before he glances at toji, rephrasing. “eh, yeah i know how to do full nelson. why?”

“because,” toji smacks his lips, a hand prying its way between the valley of your legs. you moan, still feeling full from tepid hot dumps of his cum practically oozing out of your puffy slit. “we’ve got a new opponent ‘n she wants to experience what it’s really like on the ring.”

“toji, we do full nelson all the time,” choso timidly runs a bundle of fingers through his buzzed undercut, a timid smile curling against his lips. “we never usually do it um . . naked though.”

the boxer underneath you deadpans. he could be so dense, choso stands still before a small gasp wrenches out of his pink glossed lips.

“oh.. oh,” and his face turns into a flustered tint.

you’ve watched a bit of his interviews and it seemed not only was he shy with the press but he was also very shy in person. it was cute, regardless.

as you’re busy being trapped up in your own thoughts, choso can’t help but peek down toward your legs. you were all exposed and being stretched out by his rival. he sucks his teeth in longing, briefly staring away before feeling himself grow a bit . . aroused. “i feel disrespectful for looking, ‘m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay,” you murmur in coy reassurance, and a hand tugs onto his wrist. choso’s breath hitches at your touch, and you felt his dark eyes flicker back toward you. there’s this look in choso’s eyes, it’s mainly lust-driven. his pupils were blown and his heart raced, you looked so pretty. it’s not like he didn’t exactly not know you. he’d see you every so often when you were ‘training’ with toji. not only that but he’d spot you attending almost every boxing match. always in the front row with a vip lanyard. secretly, you were more of a choso fan but toji didn’t have to know that. “do you wanna touch me too?”

“yes,” he blurts out almost right away and his face flushes a deeper shade. a rumble from toji shakes his shoulders - he’s chuckling, and you feel a big arm wrap around your torso. you bite down on your lip, still feeling yourself sit in a creamy puddle of filth, warm cum still plugged into you. choso starts to pant, watching you slither a hand between your thighs, spreading your soppy pussy lips. “i mean.. oh, that’s..” and he’s barely able to think straight, watching as you toy with yourself whilst still being full of toji’s thickset cock. his head starts to spin before he inches closer, kneeling down after your cute hand gestures to come here. “a- are you sure you want me to—”

“it’s okay, go ahead.” you hum, guiding his wrist.

“choso, she’s not gonna bite ya,” toji snickers, bringing your legs back down. as of now — you were currently straddling him with your back facing his chest. choso rubs his neck once more, growing sheepish yet again. it’s adorable, but again, he’s seen you at his matches and face offs. choso being choso though was far too shy to say anything or thank you for your support. but now, maybe he could thank you in another way. toji crosses his arms, cocking his head as he glances at the scene. “atta boy.”

a scowl forms on the timid boxer as his fingers resume to brush up against your drooling cunt. “s- shut up, toji,” and you let off a moan at his gentle strokes. you continue to lie back against toji - staring at choso, ogles as two plump fingers of his partner’s play up and down against your soddened entrance. choso’s mouth starts to water the more he stares, admiring how full you were—you had a few remnants of toji’s cum oozing from your slit and he swipes it up, bedaubing it against your pussy to make it sheeny again. “f- fuck, you’re so pretty.”

“you can t- touch me more, choso,” you lightly pause his hand by grabbing his wrist. his eyes meet yours and he felt the tent in his boxers tighten. oh, he was already whipped from the sound of your voice. with half lidded smoky eyes, he huffs out a single breath before glancing at your lips. you climb off of toji and a brief pop exits your cunt - dragging choso closer. “are you hard, choso?”

“he’s definitely hard,” toji tchs, averting his jade green eyes toward his partner’s shorts. it was hard to not notice the presentable bulge that’s sticking right in front of his leather everlast brand shorts. “cute.”

“shut up man,” he repeats with a glowering scowl.

with a cute dramatic sigh, choso grumbles something under his breath - trying to pay more attention back toward you. he leans into your touch, closing the gap between your legs until he’s right between you. choso presses a chaste kiss against your collarbone before moaning into your tender skin. he couldn’t help but suck against your shoulder for a few seconds, relishing in your candied flavor.

you were so sweet - bandaged hands roam everywhere on your displayed body before he exhales deeply, staring at you with almost heart shaped pupils. “you . . wanna try full nelson with me too, princess?”

throwing your arms over him, you hum with a subtle nod. “yeah, ‘s okay. i can handle it.”

famous last words,

with choso . . he stretched you all the way out, probably even more than toji.

his cock was just as thick, maybe even more. his fat reddened tip swelters the inside of your sopping pussy so good until you’re whimpering his name on constant loop. it’s like a mantra, you’re so dumb that it’s like his five lettered name was the only thing your brain could comprehend to say.

he’s got you upright in the same exact position before, slinging two beefy arms underneath your thighs as your weight bounces and defies gravity.

“fuck, fuck,” he whines, the addictive squeeze your cunt had never failed to make itself known. he reached any and every area so deep. choso had a delicious curve to his cock that sent you straight butterflies. it expands through your walls, french kissing your insides until you whine. his base was repeatedly getting smacked from your ass, each ‘n every time you jerked up from his lap. “y- you’re so good. so warm, ‘m gonna pass out.”

“aren’t you the boxer though?” you try to tease, but your cheeky voice falters the second his slitted tip kisses against that spot.

your vision was merely blurry, seeing nothing but a kaleidoscope of stars. in almost defeat, your head falls back against his chest and toji watches the entire time, buff arms crossed and an amused cunning expression. seeing you milk his rival was something he didn’t know would turn him on so much.

choso doesn’t reply to your little jest, still pumping such fat inches inside of your gripping walls. he’s already dumb, knocked out cold with a solid punch - not necessarily from an opponent, but your pussy. “hang onto me, ‘kay? this position requires lots of um . . s- stamina.”

as you nod, your entire body dangles and bobs from the movement — parching hot friction gluing against each jolting limb before you spasm.

“chosoooo,” and your thighs collapse, coming to its pleasurable demise. his thrusts were sloppy, the squelches of your own body was so lewd. you heard it through and through, glancing down to see yourself flutter and clench around his cock. “fuck, fuck ‘m gonna get close again.”

“wait,” a gruff voice murmurs and you glance up to see toji standing over you. he cups your chin, a thumb caressing your quivering bottom lip. “such a empty mouth. hm, open for me, pretty. think you could use some throat training too.”

as choso’s still plummeting his cock into your swollen cunt - stretching you out dexterously, you part your lips open.

by your surprise, toji’s lips meets yours and he pulls you into a deep kiss. it’s a bit of a rushing kiss, sloppy and strings of saliva tangling between each mouths. you moan, feeling the weight of your breasts bounce as you’re making haste on the other boxer’s lap. fuck, you were quite literally living the dream. you whimper, feeling his broad hands grab against your tits, using thumbs to push squeeze pressure against your perky nipples. he was always so handsy, allowing his hands to wander everywhere and yanking against the remaining pathetic pieces of fabric that covered your body.

you were still layered . . partially,

his rough scarred hands slide underneath your blouse as he’s continuing to make out with you, curling his parted tongue beside your own before it turns into obscene sucking. your own tongue occasionally scrapes against his scar that located directly near the right side of his mouth - it tickles a bit—however, you whimper once choso’s dick created its own little kisses against your g-spot.

abruptly, toji who was just claiming your mouth a few seconds ago pulls away from the continued kiss to grip underneath your chin again. “ah, say ah,” and he hums at your obedience, staring at your pretty pink tongue rolling out of your mouth flat. “good, ‘m gonna train this throat a little bit for ya, sweets. that alright?”

“o- okay,” and you’re briefly cut off once he springs out his cock again, thwacking his pink pearly tip against your tongue. he lets off a gruff satisfied grunt, feeling himself harden up once you flick your tongue against his slit. you’re slow, making sure to savor his taste. he watches, smacking his lips and his left brow curls.

toji bites his lip, his abs curlings as he watches you try to suck him of fully — he smacks his cock all against your face softly, watching your needy pout before humming. “such a needy cock hungry slut,” and a thumb swipes against your lip, preparing to insert his hardened shaft down your throat. “aw, you want more, do ya?”

you nod before moaning, feeling choso kiss down your neck, yearning for your attention.

“y- you’re doing so good,” choso whines against your ear, clinging onto your jerking body. “ngh, don’t listen to toji. he’s just mean.”

toji rolls his eyes. he’d reply with a sassy remark but he was still feeling the after effects of sensitivity. his muscles were all tense and spasming from you just bouncing on him just a few minutes ago. you’re just grinding onto choso, feeling your hips ridiculously buckle and snap before he smears his cockhead against your lips like it was lipstick. his plump tip goes against your wet lips, only for him to smack it against your clean pink tongue. “mmph.” you lashes flutter, ogling as he buries a few fingers into your scalp for a good grip. toji grunts, briefly tossing his head back in rapture. his scent grows stronger as he gradually starts to sink his way into your mouth.

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum. i can’t last,” choso babbles, facial expressions scrunching up the more you quicken your tempo on his lap. toji glances at choso who’s melting right underneath you — he’s got you in a secure hold, but it’s lazy.

one of his arms sling around your torso, another holding onto your thigh. “fuck,” he sucks against your neck, feeling the stretch increase. your walls were his own worst enemy, preparing to milk him for all of his worth. everything felt hot, his throat felt dry and he’s starting to shake right underneath you. “gonna cum, gonna c- cum.”

“not yet, ‘cho,” he grunts, watching as you lean in, adjusting your throat to his heavy size. your tongue swirls around the peeling slit and he huffs, a single hand tightening its hold against the roots that stick onto your scalp. “mhm, look at me. don’t worry about him, he’s just a crybaby,” and you can hear choso let off a scoff from behind you. toji’s sensitive cock was still dribbling a bit with a concoction of your previous juices and he groans at the image of you lapping it right up. “c’mon, little deeper. i wanna feel that slutty roof.”

whilst you’re having your mouth and cunt filled entirely—choso’s whining pitches louder and louder. so loud that it reverbs all throughout the thin walls of the empty boxing arena. thankfully, there wasn’t anyone here and it was usually closed on saturdays. he didn’t like be edged, he hated it.

but it felt good,

so fucking good.

especially due to the fact that he was so close to you, hearing your sweet whimpers follow in sync with his.

your voice made his cock twitch and from the inside, you felt it all.

every frantic spasm - you felt it, not to mention the few lightning type veins that run down the upward curve of his cock, you felt that too.

you rocked against him until your knees were at its last. he’s still holding you up but even he was about to tap out. choso had stamina - but he was no match for his rival, toji.

with murky low eyes—toji’s staring dead at you, bobbling your head and merely shoving you down just a little deeper.

you get sloppy, a puddle of drool trickling down the corners of your chin and down the valley of your chest before his tip hits against the roof of your mouth again.

it’s a rough rude hit and his cock gives the very back of your throat its own few jabs. a combo if you will — yet it’s more raunchy instead of sportsmanlike.

“eyes on me baby. yeah, yeah,” toji turns your head a bit, locking onto your sweet gaze. “get it wet, clean it up for me. make me just as much of a mess as you, girl.”

his words were so low - an almost growl. you were too focused on toji that you concisely forgot about the other boxer that’s sat underneath you.

choso came and it was so sudden—he couldn’t hold it anymore.

his grip weakens and he slouched back against the ring, spurts of hot cum pouring into you deep. he’s trembling, feeling a wave crash down on him as he’s succumbing to his high. choso can’t help but try to mimic toji, swatting the palm of his hand softly against your ass. even his spanks were respectful.

the worn out boxer pants, letting off an adorable finish. his vocals were quite loud despite having a deep bellow. “baby oh, fuuuck,” he mewls out, dark brows coming together. choso was about to lose it even more at the feeling your swiveling hips throwing itself around in a circle just because. toji watches the entire thing, how you were teasing his partner whilst having your mouth all stuffed full. as he’s stood tall before you both, his abs clench and you get a face view of it all. perfectly incised along the edges, you saw a few marks and scars coat against his skin and it’s never been more attractive. choso on the other hand found his hands grabbing onto your tits, gently brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipples before nuzzling into your neck. he was definitely pussy drunk — you could hear it. “babyyy,” a soft voice whines pussy drunkly against the lobe of your ear, and you depart your lips away from toji’s cock. he groans, viewing you lie back before you start to twitch out a bit yourself.

not only was choso close but so were you. as your legs were all stuck up in the air in its ideal position, you dramatically gasp once you feel it.

there’s a tugging pile of pressure that presses down on your tummy. your jaw drops—dangles and everything as you’re being pushed further toward the edge. your arousal steadily builds up until it finally comes.

just seconds apart from choso, you pant - a brief pang of electric shock ascending down right through you. you were speechless for a moment.

there’s nothing but a white noise blaring through each of your ears. it feels like an unpredictable wave, a powerful wave that ripples right through your entire body. it took you a long time to realize you were finishing - not only finishing but you were squirting.

“ohmygodddd,” you whimper out, feeling your legs vigorously shake. you gush out right onto the mat. feeling yourself grow hot — you’re even hotter because of choso’s body underneath you.

effortlessly, bodies stick against each other, snuggling in filthy warmth. as you’re leisurely coming to a halting stop of your rhythmic hips, choso’s cock remained tuck inside of you and you catch your breath, head cutely flopping back against his bare chest.

“did . . did you just squirt on me?” choso whimpers, a tremor in his voice.

his voice, it grew a bit raspier. although, you could still hear the softness lingering underneath it.

toji leans in toward you both, spreading your legs open just a bit more - he strums a calloused thumb down your opening, peering as you’re still fluttering out of arousal and was still sopping wet all the way from your needy clit.

“she fuckin’ did,” he coos, and he leans down, getting right on his knees.

you watch with low hooded eyes, still feeling surges of nirvana and euphoria overtake your body. toji purrs in contentment, wide open palms slapping against the foamy ring mat before sticking out his lengthy rosy tongue. you’re catching irregular heavy breaths right along with choso, full lungs preparing to collapse and give out before you pulse.

the moment toji drags his long tongue over the dampened spot of where you just made a mess—you felt yourself throb yet again.

so nasty, he had no shame at all. choso watched too, and he felt the exact same way as you did.

“what a mess,” and with another throaty chuckle leaving his lips, he cleans the mat off entirely before going between your legs. you moan, his palm gifting your cunt with a single abrupt spank. you’re so drenched that a few spurts of your slick coat onto his hand. toji stares at it, scoffing. “pussy tryin’ to talk back i see,” and he rubs his hand in a circular rotation against your cunt, maneuvering all kinds of shapes with his palm. you whimper, grabbing onto choso’s wrist. in awe, toji watches as dumps of cum ooze out of your opening and he even licks that up too, sticky black hair all unkempt and gluing against his forehead. the thin black bangs that run down his brows gives him a more alluring look and he hums, darkened eyes meeting his partner’s. “choso. don’t be a zombie. c’meree.”

you were definitely fucked—

being laid out, defeated and just stupidly stupid.

your legs sprawl outward as they’re both right between them. taking turns, flicking tongues of each against your swollen cunt. they took fighting over you to an entire new level. as they were drinking you dry — you couldn’t help but imagine the lewd thought of taking them both at the same time. you’d probably get crushed, you could barely even handle one as is, but two? that’d be an actual knockout for real.

as you’re still in a trancing daze, you watch both of the boxers with wide rounded eyes, grabbing both of them by the hair. there’s choso who’s really sweet and gentle, giving your pussy soft kitten kisses, softly brushing a thumb down your slit.

and then there’s toji . .

the clit biter - opposite of choso being the clit kisser, he doesn’t care.

with ravened brows furrowing up, he’s so rude to your pussy. every few seconds, he’d tenderly nibble against your pulsating nub, knowing that you’re sensitive there. with a smug grin, he shifts his eyes at you to stare at you dead in the face whilst he’s right between your legs. he’s messy too, moving his head from side to side, his scar swipes against your cunt every now and then.

not only was he messy but he was a hogger. he slurps you clean, luxuriating the tasteless flavor on his tongue before he hears choso cutely huff out in frustration.

“toji, you’re hogging her. ‘s no fair,” he grunts, dark eyes catching a glimpse at him from his hazy peripherals.

“cry ‘bout it,” and he spits on your cunt, hooked bump of his nose rubbing all against your slit.

already - toji’s chin was drenched, and so was choso’s. they both match with a slick of your sheeny arousal dripping down their perfectly chiseled chins. about a good hour had probably passed — then again, you were too dumb to acknowledge the time. all you knew was that you were soaked. you whimper, being nothing but a stiff shivering mess as they devoured you whole.

the numbness in your legs had your back rising up in ecstasy. you wanted more. sloshing slick tongues thrash and glissade against each other before they eventually . . tangle.

toji groans, accidentally meeting with choso’s lips and its brief. his eyelashes open and he has a sly smile at his rival. you watch the entire thing, the timid boxer versus the smug one. toji’s hand still remains on your folds and he’s multitasking, seductively licking choso’s bottom lip - still locking his gaze on him. he’s starting to taking his attention off of you. “hm, don’t tell me you wanted attention from me ‘n not her this entire time, ‘cho.”

a lump gets caught in his throat. choso grows flustered, hearing his own pulse shoot out through his ears as his lips made contact against his rival. “i—”

he’s hard, flaccid still, but definitely hard. there was a loud silence once a smack noise leaves there lips the second they each depart. choso’s got a pout, a longing pout before he tries to act tough.

“shut up, toji.” he grouses, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“how ‘bout ya make me,” and you’re just sat there dumbfounded with your legs still sprawled as if you weren’t just being fought over - invisible questions marks pop up everywhere over your head. what about you? what about you. with quick reflexes, he pins choso flat down on his back before snickering, having the most lewd back arch imaginable.

“our re-match is tonight after all, pretty boy.”

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divyyoga · 1 year ago

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Find Your Zen on Yoga Day 2024: Mastering Janu Sirsasana for Mind & Body Harmony

Presentation: Setting the Scene for Quietness and Intensity As the world comes together to celebrate Yoga Day 2024, we interface together in a collective journey for concordance and well-being. Among all the yoga postures that exemplify this woven craftsmanship of bodywork, Janu Sirsasana speaks to an image of alterity and peace. This class is committed to acing the head-to-knee forward twist,…

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lesbianpegbar · 2 years ago

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i’m sooooo fucking sick of my chronic pain rn. tried to stretch this morning to see if i could find some relief and i couldn’t !! even sit with my legs straight out in front of me because it hurt too bad! legitimately incredibly distressing considering i used to be able to bend over completely flat doing ballet and gymnastics! my pain almost never lulls at any point in the day now and my foot tingles and i have trouble feeling it !! walking is becoming more and more difficult ! it’s going bad !!!

#it’s been years. i’m tired #wanted to cry over my pathetic attempt at stretching this morning no joke #i used to be pretty flexible and in good shape. and then i couldn’t do the same exercise anymore bc of my back #and now i just have to watch my mobility shrivel more and more #i’m in my early twenties. i hate this. i should be able to walk. i should be able to sit. i should be able to bend over #i’m tired i’m tired i’m tired #mine #personal

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pukicho · 6 months ago

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Puki I wanna know how you feel about Christianity

Gee, u really wanna know? Should I get deep?? Mind u I'm not a theologist or philosopher, so if I sound stupid to those more versed in this shit, feel free to tell me WHY. Anyway here's my view:

I've been a self-proclaimed atheist since my early teens. Of course, as a 13 year old, I held too much confidence in my beliefs; it's likely any learned theist at the time would've absolutely obliterated my arguments on the subject. I felt an underserved sense of intellectual superiority for quite some time, reinforced by the thought that belief only worked given proof, which ignored the inherently nebulous nature of such a thing. So, that was me back then! Now, I believe things a bit differently: in an argument derived from logic, I haven't been convinced ... and tbh, spiritualism is simply not useful to me - but philosophy is!

Not to play too heavily into Christian apologetics, but since a lot of philosophy IS the interplay between science and theology, Christianity has a big influence in the field. In searching through this nebulous field, we can help define the structure for our beliefs - religious or otherwise. It's the grounding-element for all human belief, which is pretty important. Even if it's not empirical, it's a lot more functional than theology all on its own - and that's something that someone who wants tangible arguments for God can get behind! There exists God in this field, whether science wishes for it to or not, and vice versa. So, though I don't believe outright in a God, I am not ignorant to the forces it holds in this field, and am flexible in its terms for the sake of exploration in this field.

I have respect for clever Christians. Emphasis on clever. The problem I have with theism is its self-assuredness: it CAN be one of the strongest reinforcements for one's belief, but it can also be used as a crutch, justifying a lazily-thought-out version of that same belief; or occasionally, a more dangerous variant. In Christian Nationalism, there lacks a healthy consideration as to 'why' someone believes what they believe. Scarier still, certain people conflate 'why' to sacrilege - instead of simply seeing it as a means to empower their faith through healthy scrutiny. God never granted us free will to flee from such questions. Clearly, these people are not self-assured in the proper-sense, instead choosing to live in willful-ignorance, fighting in crazed-belligerence towards those who disagree.

A learned Christian can comfortably ask themselves 'why' and end the exercise feeling more confident in their beliefs, whilst applying it compatibly to our modern society. I never have issues with these Christians and even think they're pretty awesome!

So that's the issue, a good Christian can mean two things: someone who's well-versed and educated in their beliefs - and someone who blindly obeys the words of a commercialized megachurch pastor, ad-libbing the Bible to fit their skewed agenda - the latter is DANGEROUS.

END

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cressidagrey · 3 months ago

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Mr Oblivious

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: Oscar Piastri is absolutely oblivious to the fact that people try to flirt with him. It drives Lando nuts. Felicity finds it very amusing though.

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Lando Norris had a very simple opinion about Oscar Piastri:

The man was smart, fast, loyal to a fault — And completely, hopelessly, oblivious.

Especially about certain things.

Like, say, the fact that every now and then, some thirsty influencer or overly-friendly interviewer decided they wanted to test their luck around one of McLaren’s golden boys.

Case in point: today.

It was supposed to be a simple media day.

Smile, wave, answer a few questions without accidentally swearing — easy stuff.

And then she showed up.

Some influencer.

Lando didn’t catch her name.

Didn’t want to.

Her outfit was orange enough to suggest she'd Googled "McLaren colors" five minutes before showing up.

Her laugh was the kind that made Lando want to put himself in an ice bath.

But what really got him was the way she locked eyes on Oscar from the moment she walked into the room.

Like a hawk spotting a particularly delicious rabbit.

And Oscar — sweet, pure, unsuspecting Oscar — stood there politely, posture perfect, nodding like he was about to explain suspension geometry to a cactus.

She sidled up to him with all the grace of a Bond girl in heels, flashing teeth and dimples and Lando could see it coming.

Could see the slow-motion train wreck unfolding with the inevitability of a Ferrari strategy call.

She sidled closer.

Tilted her head. Big fake lashes, even faker laugh.

"So, Oscar," she purred, "looking very fit this season. What's your secret?"

Lando, standing just off to the side, already felt his skin crawl.

Oscar, meanwhile, nodded thoughtfully like she’d asked him about chassis balance.

"Consistency," he said, serious as anything. "And good hydration habits. Also core strength. That’s really important for maintaining control in high G-force corners. I’ve been working with a new strength and conditioning coach. Core engagement and flexibility training. Lots of functional range mobility exercises. Very important for endurance."

Lando nearly dropped the can of Monster Energy he was carrying.

He physically turned away, took a moment to compose himself, and turned back — and she was still going.

She giggled — the kind of giggle Lando associated with botched lip filler and red flags — and twirled her hair like they were in a teen movie from 2004.

"Flexibility, huh?" she said, her voice doing That Thing™. Then winked.

WINKED.

Oscar, God bless him, nodded solemnly.

"Yeah. Critical for cockpit comfort. Limited hip mobility can lead to premature fatigue during longer races."

Lando just stared.

The influencer stared.

Oscar stared earnestly back. Oscar blinked at her with the open innocence of a Labrador Retriever about to explain knee cartilage.

It was like watching someone flirt with a toaster.

And then — then — she tried it.

She went for the kill.

"Well," she said, laughing in a way that definitely wasn't natural, "maybe you could show me some... flexibility exercises later?"

Lando choked on air.

Oscar, bless him, just looked mildly puzzled.

Lando’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

Oscar thought she wanted workout advice.

Meanwhile, this woman was basically trying to climb him like a tree.

"I mean," Oscar said, frowning thoughtfully, "I guess? If you’re interested in physiotherapy protocols? There's a lot of hip flexor and thoracic mobility involved."

He paused.

"Although," Oscar added very seriously, completely unaware he was standing in a verbal minefield, “you should always get a doctor’s clearance before starting any high-intensity exercise program.”

The influencer blinked.

Lando stared at the heavens.

Why.

Why had the universe given this man a marriage, a child, and a heart of gold, but no flirting radar whatsoever.

Lando was so angry on Oscar’s behalf he actually saw red.

Because it wasn’t just the flirting.

It was the disrespect.

Oscar — who had a wife who fixed racing models better than half the paddock. Oscar — who had a four-year-old daughter who beat engineers at Sudoku. Oscar — who literally carried his entire family in his heart wherever he went.

He wasn’t available.

He wasn’t interested.

And he damn well deserved to have people respect that without needing to tattoo MARRIED. TAKEN. HAS A BUMBLEBEE-OBSESSED DAUGHTER across his forehead.

And then — because clearly the universe wanted to personally test Lando’s self-control — the influencer winked.

Like, full-on, slow-motion, cartoon-style winked at Oscar.

Oscar blinked back, confused.

Then said, very seriously:

"You should also stretch regularly to avoid cramping."

Lando actually made a noise — somewhere between a groan and a dying animal.

The influencer tried to recover, laughing awkwardly, but Oscar had already turned — calm, unfazed — and was politely thanking the PR rep for organizing the media day.

Lando stormed over, practically vibrating with protective rage.

"Mate," he hissed when Oscar finally wandered off-stage, "you realize she was hitting on you, right?"

Oscar frowned. "Was she?"

"YES," Lando hissed, arms flailing. "She was basically ready to throw herself at you!”

Oscar looked genuinely perplexed.

"But... I’m married."

"YES," Lando repeated, louder, like he was explaining quantum physics to a pigeon. "You are married. You have a kid. You are the dictionary definition of off-limits."

Oscar scratched the back of his neck.

"Maybe she didn’t know?"

"She definitely knew," Lando muttered darkly. "You are actually wearing your wedding ring for once and Bee’s little bead bracelet. You might as well walk around holding a sign that says 'I love my wife and daughter more than oxygen.'"

Oscar shrugged, entirely unfazed.

"I mean... it’s true."

Lando stared at him.

Somewhere between admiration and absolute rage.

When they reached the McLaren motorhome, Felicity was there — perched on the couch, Bee asleep with her head on Felicity’s lap, Button the Frog tucked under her tiny arm.

Oscar’s whole face lit up like a sunrise.

He crossed the room without hesitation, dropped a kiss onto Felicity’s hair, and gently stroked Bee’s back.

Felicity smiled up at him, all soft and warm and easy, like they had a language no one else could hear.

Lando stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching it all unfold.

Watching how Oscar's whole world just locked into place around them, without hesitation, without second thought.

Yeah.

Let them flirt. Let them try.

Oscar Piastri had everything he needed right here. And he was smart enough — good enough — to never even glance anywhere else.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter:

@/F1TeaSpill: BREAKING: Influencer tries to flirt with Oscar Piastri.

Oscar responds with “core strength” and “doctor’s clearance.”

Meanwhile, Lando Norris nearly combusts in the background.

[attached: video clip]

@/pitlanechaos: Not Oscar offering that woman a PHYSIOTHERAPY REFERRAL I’m losing it. He thought she wanted professional advice. He’s too pure for this world.

@/felicityfanclub (pinned tweet):

‼️OSCAR PIASTRI IS MARRIED

‼️HE LOVES HIS WIFE

‼️HE LOVES HIS DAUGHTER

‼️HE IS OBLIVIOUSLY LOYAL

‼️AND WE ARE HERE TO DEFEND HIS GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY

@/formulawoah: This man said “consult your doctor” instead of realizing she was flirting. He’s not oblivious. He’s loyal at a molecular level.

@/landohmygod: Lando Norris being 1 second away from lunging across the paddock like an angry chihuahua deserves its own Emmy. He was FIGHTING for Oscar’s honor.

@/suspension_nerd: If I was that influencer and Oscar hit me with “thoracic mobility is important” when I was trying to flirt, I would simply evaporate on the spot.

@/gridgossip: This man has a wife who fixes telemetry errors in her sleep, and makes him bento boxes everyday. AND A DAUGHTER WHO BEATS ENGINEERS AT SUDOKU. What did you THINK was going to happen??

@/F1psychology: Watching Oscar Piastri react to flirting like it's a sports injury safety video is the most fascinating psychological case study I’ve ever seen. Also, Lando's visible rage is priceless.

***

Oscar waited until Bee was down for the night.

She’d fallen asleep curled up around Button the Frog, one arm flung dramatically across her pillow like she was staging a nap-themed protest. He’d kissed her forehead and tucked the blanket under her chin, switching the night light to its soft pink glow before slipping out of her room on quiet feet.

He figured... if Felicity was going to hate him, she probably shouldn’t have to do it in front of their daughter.

Which was stupid. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

But the pit in his stomach wouldn’t go away.

He was sweating, suddenly aware of how clingy the collar of his t-shirt felt. His hands wouldn’t sit still — twitching, tapping, twisting his wedding ring around and around until the skin beneath it burned.

He felt fifteen again. Awkward and uncertain and too full of words he didn’t know how to say.

And then Felicity padded into the living room, hair twisted into a lazy bun, bare feet soft against the floorboards, wearing one of his old McLaren hoodies that hung off her like it still didn’t understand how it ended up lucky enough to be wrapped around her.

She looked soft. Tired. Safe.

She smiled when she saw him, sweet and a little sleepy, like she was expecting him to ask about what tea she wanted or whether he’d remembered to order oat milk.

Oscar nearly chickened out.

Instead, he sat up straighter — awkward and abrupt — and blurted:

"Someone tried to flirt with me today."

Felicity blinked.

Tilted her head slightly, eyebrows raised — curious, not alarmed.

"Okay," she said, in the same tone she might use if he told her they were out of clean towels.

Oscar frowned.

"No, like — really tried. At a media thing. In front of cameras."

She just blinked again. Still calm. Still patient.

Still not mad.

Just... waiting.

Oscar swallowed.

"And I didn’t realize it was flirting until Lando nearly had an aneurysm."

That earned him a real laugh — soft, sudden, surprised. The kind of laugh she gave him when Bee said something absurd or when Oscar accidentally fixed something in the kitchen by whacking it with a shoe.

It went straight to his chest.

God, he loved her.

"And I was worried—" he continued, words stumbling out now like they’d been dammed up too long, "I was worried you’d think I was — I don’t know — encouraging it or — or being stupid, or not noticing because I wanted to miss it—"

Felicity crossed the room in three quick steps, not breaking eye contact once.

She dropped onto the couch beside him, slid her legs over his lap like she did every night, and tucked herself against his side like she’d always belonged there.

"You thought I’d be mad," she said, amused, "because some random influencer tried to flirt with you?"

Oscar nodded miserably, guilt still clinging to the back of his throat.

Felicity pulled back just enough to look up at him.

Eyes shining. Smile small and full of something dangerously close to laughter.

"Oscar," she said slowly, "I saw the whole video. You tried to offer her hydration advice."

He groaned, already regretting every decision he’d made since opening his mouth.

"Please don’t remind me."

"You told her to stretch her hip flexors," Felicity said, delighted. "Oscar, you sounded like a yoga instructor trying to scare off a client."

"Bee probably would’ve handled it better," he muttered, rubbing at his face.

Felicity laughed — a real one this time, head back, eyes crinkled, full-body kind of joy.

Oscar melted a little.

She curled closer, arms winding around his waist like she didn’t intend to let go anytime soon.

"I’m not mad, love," she said gently, brushing her nose against his shoulder. "She never stood a chance."

Oscar blinked down at her, stunned. A little breathless.

Felicity grinned up at him.

"You are so... mine, it’s not even funny."

She said it like a joke. She said it like a truth carved in stone.

Both were true.

Oscar let out a long, shaky breath, tension finally bleeding out of his chest.

"I just didn’t want you to think—"

She kissed his cheek, quieting him with the ease of someone who knew every version of him — the champion, the kid from karting, the dad who braided Bee’s hair with frog clips.

"I married you," Felicity whispered. "I know exactly who you are. I trust you with my life. And frankly, if anyone tries to flirt with you again, I might just send them a condolence card."

Oscar laughed, startled and in love and still trying to figure out how he’d ever ended up this lucky.

"And also," Felicity added, smirking like a fox who had absolutely won, "it’s way too funny to be jealous about."

He buried his face into her neck, overwhelmed by the warmth of her, by the sharp edges of her wit and the soft edges of her love.

"You’re ridiculous," he mumbled, muffled by her skin.

"And you," she said, threading her fingers through his hair like he was something precious, "are very bad at realizing when people want you." A beat. "And your brain is permanently stuck on ‘wife good, daughter best, car fast.’"

Oscar smiled, eyes closed, letting her steady him with nothing more than her heartbeat and her presence.

"You really aren’t mad?" he asked, still half-disbelieving.

Felicity leaned back, just far enough to look at him fully — bright-eyed and ferociously sure.

"Oscar," she said solemnly, "you are the most obliviously loyal man I’ve ever met. If I had to design a loyalty test, it would look like you."

Oscar kissed the curve of her throat, slow and reverent.

"Good thing I only ever wanted you," he murmured.

Felicity’s arms tightened around him, like she could will him into her bones.

"Exactly," she whispered.

Exactly.

#formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #Oscar Piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #op81 fic #op81 imagine

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faboo978 · 11 months ago

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When I dislocated my knee I found a few studies that found a small improvement in injury recovery when supplementing with collagen. *However*, the studies I found were versus no additional intervention (i.e. rehab+collagen vs. just rehab), and it's likely just increasing protein would have the same effect.

The other thing was, the effective dose was about 6x higher than what most supplements brands suggested. Any of the pills I found would have required like a dozen pills a *day* to be an effective dose.

wait, are the health claims from bone broth bogus? (genuine/good faith question). i’ve always heard that it’s high in collagen, which supposedly is good for you and better if you get it ‘naturally’ like from bone broth. is that another thing that’s not actually true, or wildly exaggerated?

Bone broth has been eaten for centuries in various cultures because it is easy to digest and believed to have healing properties. Chicken broth is highly valued by some as a remedy for the flu. In more recent years it has been promoted to help symptoms from psychiatric and neurodevelopmental disorders including autism and attention-deficit hyperactivity. [7] Claims that it detoxifies the liver, improves digestion, reverses wrinkles, builds bones, and relieves join pain have led some marketing analysts to predict that the bone broth market will approach $3 billion by 2024. [8] In reality, bone broth contains only small amounts of minerals naturally found in bone including calcium, magnesium, potassium, iron, phosphorus, sodium, and copper. The amount of protein, obtained from the gelatin, varies from 5-10 grams per cup. There is some concern that bone broth contains toxic metals like lead. One small study found that bone broth made from chicken bones contained three times the lead as chicken broth made with the meat only. [7] However the amount of lead in the bone broth per serving was still less than half the amount permitted by the Environmental Protection Agency in drinking water. A different study found that bone broth, both homemade and commercially produced, contained low levels (<5% RDA) of calcium and magnesium as well as heavy metals like lead and cadmium. [9] The study noted that various factors can affect the amount of protein and minerals extracted in bone broth: the amount of acidity, cooking time, cooking temperature, and type of animal bone used. Therefore it is likely that the nutritional value of bone broths will vary widely.

(Source: https://nutritionsource.hsph.harvard.edu/collagen/)

Your body makes collagen; eating collagen will put the things that make collagen into your body to make collagen with, but so will eating things that go into making collagen (amino acids, basically).

There's not good evidence that eating a ton of collagen or supplementing collagen improves your body's collagen production, and studies on collagen supplementation tend to be done by companies that make collagen supplements or produce expensive bone broth.

Basically if you're eating the 9 essential amino acids by consuming complete proteins (which can be done on any kind of diet, vegan or vegetarian or including meat - this is NOT one of those things your body relies on animal products to produce) your body is going to make collagen and it's going to have the amino acids handy to make collagen; consuming more collagen may mean that your body has more of those collagen-forming amino acids on hand, but it doesn't mean that your body is going to be any more efficient at producing collagen (and your body is going to become less efficient at producing collagen as you age).

But yeah bone broth health claims are primarily bogus. If you want more collagen in your diet for whatever reason, it's probably about as effective to eat jello as it is to eat bone broth but also more collagen in your diet likely isn't doing anything special.

#blood-flow flexibility and strength exercises were what really got me back to normal

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yasministration · 23 days ago

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mobility exercises - oliver wood

summary: oliver wood doesn't expect to walk onto the quidditch pitch to find the slytherin team finishing up their post workout stretches. nor does he expect to be flirted with by their captain wc: 1.3k+ cw: a little suggestive

“Okay, stretch all the way up, touch the sky - if you’re not feeling it in your muscles, you’re not trying hard enough… Now keeping your legs straight, bend down and touch the floor. Stretch those hamstrings. If it hurts too much, you can open your legs a little so you can lay your hands flat on the ground.”

When Oliver Wood booked the pitch after the Slytherin quidditch team, the last thing he expected to guide his team towards was a team post-practice stretching session, led by non other than the captain of the team herself. The captain who was weirdly flexible. Now, he and his team were staring with amused expressions and slacked jaws, unsure what to do.

“And now spread your legs a little,” A few members of your team cackled, but you promptly ignored them, “And fold your arms and just swing your torso from side to side. Let those shoulders relax.”

“That’s how they all stay so mobile then.” Commented Fred from next to Oliver, grinning. Oliver gulped, admiring as you instructed your team to sit down, stretching your legs as far to the side as possible and leaning forward to place your elbows on the ground in front of you, smiling as you watched your male teammates attempt to replicate your movements. “Do not bend your knees! Come on Draco, you’re thirteen! You should be more flexible than the rest of us.”

“Watch out Cap, Wood’s taking note of your stretching routine as we speak.” Your head snapped back toward the entrance of the quidditch pitch, eyebrows pinching together when you caught sight of the gryffindor team standing near the entrance. “What time is it?” You asked, pushing yourself up to your feet and sighing when Oliver took a few steps towards you. “It’s already 6.” You straightened up, bringing a hand up to rub over your face as you turned to face the Gryffindor captain. Clearing your throat, you avoided the eyes of the other gryffindor players, focusing on your classmate instead. “Would you mind if we just finished stretching while you guys warmed up? We’ll be like, seven minutes. Max.”

Oliver chuckled, his eyes fluttering behind you. “Yeah, sure. We don’t mind the free entertainment.” You followed his gaze, eyes hardening as you yelled “Knees, Draco!”

“It hurts!”

“Then don’t open your legs so wide!”

You turned back to face Oliver, grinning. “Thanks, Wood. We’ll be out by the time you guys begin tactics. Okay, butterfly!” Marcus immediately followed your order, folding his knees and pressing his feet together, fluttering his legs. The rest of your teammates mimicked the movement, groaning at the stretch in their limbs. You joined them on the grass, pushing your knees down as far as they could go.

A few meters away from you and your team, the Weasley twins both turned to face Oliver with matching expressions in their face. He glanced at them, face flushing as he mumbled “What?” “Since when do you let anyone on the pitch when you’ve booked it?” Pressed George, raising an eyebrow. “She asked nicely.” The twins hummed, entirely unconvinced, and Katie clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “If I remember correctly, you threatened to hex Davies last week, and he was being terribly kind too.”

“Start running laps around the pitch.”

They hadn’t gotten five minutes into their warmup when your team stood unanimously, grabbing your brooms and making your way to the changing rooms. You waved a hand at Oliver, and he smiled at you, huffing as he ran past you. You giggled quietly, pushing the door to the slytherin girls’ changing rooms. Luckily for you, being the only girl in the team had its perks, and you could take as long as you wanted to shower and get changed after practice, not having to worry about holding up the showers for everyone.

You took your time showering, lathering soap on your body and shampoo through your hair. The changing room was kept clean, the floors dry and cubicles empty after you put your things away. You did your hair routine before packing all your belongings in your heavy duffel bag, making sure not to forget your broom, lying abandoned on a bench.

When you finally left the changing room, you were surprised to see the entire Gryffindor team on the ground, chugging eagerly from their water bottles. You searched for Oliver in the small crowd, chewing on your bottom lip when you spotted him, jersey clinging onto his sweaty muscles, back flexing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Are you planning on stealing our tactics by ogling at Wood all day?” Your head snapped towards the sound of the teasing voice, eyes widening at the sight of the Weasley twins, who looked like they’d won the lottery. “You never know, I might be a legilimens.”

A call of your name had you spinning around, waving a hand up awkwardly at the sight of Oliver trotting towards you. “What are you still doing here? Your entire team left ages ago.”

“Making the most of the empty changing rooms. The showers here are so ridiculously spacious compared to our dorms, so I like to spoil myself a little.”

“It took you forty five minutes to shower?”

“Well, you know, I had to do my hair and stuff.”

“Sore muscles slowed you down, eh?”

You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “Not sure if you saw, but I have some amazing stretches that make my muscles immune to soreness.”

“Does stretching actually do that?” Chimed in Harry, fully aware that he was interrupting some sort of chemistry happening between you and Oliver. Oliver broke eye contact with you to briefly glare at the younger boy, who smiled boyishly at him.

“Yeah. I’d offer to give you guys a little workshop, but, you know. I have to make sure slytherin has the most agile players at hogwarts.”

“Don’t worry. As long as Gryffindor has the fittest ones.” Fred winked at you, and you laughed. Oliver’s jaw clenched, and he cleared his throat. “You want Gryffindor to have the fittest players then get in your brooms. Break’s over.” Oliver’s strict tone made you swallow thickly, and you watched at his teammates begrudgingly complied. You were happy to see that Oliver stayed in front of you, watching you watch his team. “I’ll let you steal some of our tactics if you let me steal some of your mobility exercises.”

“Don’t worry about my tactics, Wood. But I can show you some mobility exercises any time. Just come find me.”

Oliver spluttered, face going red. You grinned eyes twinkling with mischief. You stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning your lips close to his ear. “And, I’m not so sure about gryffindor having the fittest players in general, but their captain is definitely the fittest player I’ve seen.” You pulled away just in time to see Olivers’s flustered face, mouth gaping in surprise.

Laughing quietly, you stepped away from him, spinning on your heels and announcing loudly “You know where to find me for those stretches, Wood!”

From the air, his teammates cheered loudly. Oliver squinted his eyes at you, glaring playfully when you glanced at him from over your shoulder. You knew this would distract his teammates for long enough to stray them off their practice schedule. To make up for it though, he tried getting his teammates to do stretches after practice.

Oliver stared at them, wincing as his muscles pulled uncomfortably. Neither he nor anyone else knew what they were doing.

“Go shower, maybe I really should ask about those stretches.” Oliver said the last bit of his sentence mostly to himself, but it brought the most reaction from his friends. Angelina winked as she passed him, echoing your past words “Yeah, you know where to find her, Wood.”

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