#bball

Thank you so much for hosting the event and showing my submission on stream! This was really fun!

sorry for the delay baby, this was rushed a lot so i hope you enjoy this bc i didnt proofread. ˚⊹♡

“oh fuck you!” you shout, irritation consuming you as diana ate the last piece of cake, knowing how much you wanted it, even though it wasn’t for you.

she was immediately startled by ur sudden outburst.

sure, you had ur moments, but to get angry over a slice of cake? she knew you were stubborn, and she also knew that you weren’t on ur cycle.

“nena, calm down.” she uttered, but you didn’t listen, instead — you even rolled your eyes as a mumbled “bitch” flew out of ur mouth.

she quickly heard you and nodded her head in a maniac way, processing every single crumb of movement from you and the grating scoff you had no shame in avowing.

you urself didn’t know why you were acting so childish for a piece of cake, and being so oblivious of how diana was gonna react.

oh right. because in a blur, ur whole body was sitting on her lap, not caring an ounce about the half bitten cake, and shit — you didn’t know how u got naked under her tight grip on ur neck.

you nearly gasped, wondering how and what just occurred so swiftly to get you needy and apologetic.

“say that again, please.“ diana mumbled, a cold trail of dark matter right behind her tone as she flicked her tongue against her lips.

she wanted you to say it. just so she could make sure you never call her that again after.

you were still trying to process, but the little agony in you won.

“bitch!”

now you didn’t mean to nearly shout, but all the pent up tension was getting to you and it surely wasn’t the time to do that, only because diana had crawled her hands to ur ass.

she chuckled, lowering her head from how funny it was for her.

you were being a brat.

not only to her but certainly triggering her calm state.

u started to get fret, thinking about how dumb and foolish you have been acting, and now you knew you were gonna get ur consequences because when diana gets tense with you, you end up saying sorry.

hands running over both of ur cheeks, her light touch raising hairs and goosebumps, only exciting you for what could be possibly be coming.

"you can count, right?" she asked, voice laced with sarcasm.

"yeah," u replied, your heart beginning to race a little faster when you felt the familiar fuzzy black handcuffs click around ur wrists. you started to regret being the bitch in this situation.

"well don't just mourn now, count to fucking ten if you're so smart."

with a nod you began, easily going through the numbers you’d learned in primary school just to have diana chuckle at you. "that was great, surprisingly. good job. now, lets see if you can count while your ass is burning, shall we? what number should we go to sweets?"

"fifteen," you answered quickly, barely giving it any thought and just choosing a number u hoped she'd be satisfied with.

"good choice," she agreed, bringing a quick hand down on ur bare bottom, the loud slap filling the room, and most likely slipping under the crack of the doorway and spilling out into the neighborhood.

"one!" you yelped, surprised at the stinging rising on ur right cheek. the second came down on ur left, a bit harder than the first. "two." another on the right. "th-three." the left. "ah! f-four." right. "five!" right again. "s-i-ix."

"your voice is cracking," she pointed out, hands cupping ur red, burning bum and thumbs digging into the rounds of your flesh. "can't handle it?"

"i- i apologize," you said through gritted teeth, growling out a "se-ven," when she brought her hand down again, this one being the worst of all.

tears formed in ur eyes but u forced them away, breathing heavily into the blankets around yourself.

she ignored ur apology, watching your teared face focused on trying to let the pain be itself.

ur counts were getting louder and louder, her slaps rougher and rougher, and by the time you were at twelve u were almost screaming them out, hissing and gasping and feeling incredibly embarrassed at not only how much you were enjoying this and how horny you had become, but how loud you actually got.

anybody could hear the couple, and diana made it known that that's what she wanted.

"tch," she began, cradling ur ass in her palms and occasionally brushing her fingertips over your lower back. "you know very well i don’t tolerate ur bratty behavior, little girl. s’, i suggest you scream these lasts few, yeah?”

"but dia-“

"do you wanna go to twenty?" she warned. "twenty-five?"

“n-no."

"then scream," she growled, drawing her arm back and slapping you with a quick swing of her hand. u cried out the number thirteen, breathing heavily with half your face buried in her neck, hot breath warming her nape around. the next two were the same, harsh slaps to ur bum, counted out by the distressed sound of ur voice, the fifteenth one hurting the most but at the same time feeling so fucking good in the worst way possible.

once diana was done she left her lips trailing up from ur stomach before brushing over ur neck and connecting with your mouth in a quick, sloppy kiss.

"you didn’t get wet did ya?" she mumbled more to herself than to you, reaching under u and slipping her index finger inside ur throbbing pussy, easily slipping in at how wet you were.

"mh’ y-yea," you confirmed, whimpering as two fingers pinched ur spongy clit, feeling it wobble at the contact.

"want me to do somethin’ about it?"

"please."

"and what is that?" her fingers playing around ur soft, dripping, and who could forget — soaked entrance.

"i want your strap."

"how so, love?"

"god, fuck me like this. fuck me from behind i don't care. i need to feel you in me, please dee."

diana paused for a moment before letting a laugh slip her lips. "begging so soon?" she smirked, shaking her head as she licked her lips subtly, “no.” she deadpanned, “this cute pussy doesn’t deserve my attention, not after your ugly behavior.”

“but-“

“but nothing, i’ll leave you the rest of the slice, but for now you don’t get anything.”

On the court, Doncic is an animated demon, firing himself up by verbally wrangling with opponents, referees and fans. Off-court, he’s reserved, almost shy, a chess player and Overwatch videogame fanatic whose favorite Friend is Joey and whose preferred movies are family fare like Mamma Mia and High School Musical. In conversation, he’s so quiet that I sometimes have to lean over at our table to hear what he’s saying, which is important, because even in a fourth language (he also speaks Slovenian, Serbian and Spanish), Luka is funny, with a deadpan sense of humor. Like when I mention the groovy leather jacket Pelinka wore to Doncic’s introductory press conference.