Yes he does

"We need something special, Art!" Marcus called out from across the field. Arthur gnashed his teeth, choosing to ignore that statement. The score was tied at 0-0. It was a hard fought game- in fact, this was really good. They were facing the reigning champions and were very much the underdogs.

But they were way into extra time and there was likely only going to be time for one play left. If the game ended in a draw, it would go into penalties... something Arthur really didn't want happening, considering the lethality of the opposing strikers. They had been lucky not to concede so far.

And to make matters worse, rain was pouring down, soaking the players and the pitch, making it doubly hard to execute any sort of action, really.

Arthur glanced around the field. The stands were covered in opposing fans, only a small section at the very end where their own fans were. Everyone had brought out umbrellas. Down below the bleachers, Arthur saw the cheerleaders going at it, exchanging elaborate routines. At the heart of it all was Tallulah, Alice's on and off girlfriend.

They all wore incredibly revealing outfits, but Tallulah's clung to her like a second skin, her bountiful, creamy boobs seeingly defying physics with each movement, her supple skin on tantalizing display in the rain while her bimbo-blonde hair danced around her head like a lion's mane.

Arthur tore his gaze away from her, to the other side of the pitch where Coach Amirah was. She was crouched down in the storm, worriedly running her hands through her dark hair, shining in the rain. The water had also soaked through her shirt and clung tightly against her body, clearly revealing the outline of her bodacious bosom, with two stiff points where her nipples would. He felt his cock pulse, and was reminded of the buttplug he'd decided to leave on, praying his shorts weren't clinging to his legs tight enough to display it.

Arthur tore his eyes away from the sight, forcing himself to focus. Most people would hate the position he was in right now, but he loved it. As if being the Captain of the team wasn't enough, Arthur also played Center Midfield, arguably the most crucial position. He was the one who would link play across the two halves- so double the pressure, as he was instrumental in both making sure the team scored and stopping the opposing players from scoring.

It was nigh impossible to see in the rain but Arthur managed to see the white football in the feet of one of his team-mates, who was about to be accosted by two opposing players.

"HERE!" Arthur screamed, darting down the pitch. He saw the ball lobbed over to him and he somehow controlled it down with an expert touch in the sweltering rain. Not wasting a moment he began to move, pushing the ball forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the whistle in the referee's mouth- this would unquestionably be their last chance to make the finals. There was no room for error.

A defender from the opposing team charged towards Arthur, but Arthur barely paid him heed, swiftly slipping the ball between his legs and pressing forward, fighting to keep his feet upright as water tried to pull him down. Arthur continued running, desperately searching for options as two more heavyset defenders closed on him.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Marcus sprint down the wing, his black dreads flying behind him. Arthur allowed himself a small smile. There was hope.

Arthur rapidly shuffled backwards, baiting the first defender in before deftly flicking the ball over his head- a move so audacious anyone else would have balked for even trying it in a normal match, much less in one as important as this- but **** times called for **** measures.

Arthur charged forwards, not bothering to look back at the humiliated defender, ready to take on the second. This one was more careful, opting to square himself up.

But it was of no matter. Arthur sprinted forward before stepping his foot over the ball, once.... twice... and gone. The defender took the bait- like any respectable one would and Arthur engaged his weak foot, flicking the ball past him and punting forward.

He could barely hear the screams of the crowd through the roaring rain as he pressed on, only him and the goalkeeper now. It was a dance footballers were all too familiar with, a game of reflexes, both parties trying to bait one another into moving first.

The goalkeeper seemed to know this too, setting his brow and wiping the moisture from his face. Arthur cocked his foot back, prepared to shoot as the goalie dropped his knees, ready to launch into whatever direction Arthur would shoot in...

When he suddenly pulled his touch, tapping the ball diagonally to a violently sprinting Marcus, the winger whom everyone had forgotten about while Arthur had been working his way up the pitch.

The goalie had just enough time for his eyes to widen- Arthur could almost hear the shitty audio playing- it was at this moment he knew- he fucked up.

With a deafening roar, Marcus launched the ball with ferocious power, sending into point-blank into the top corner, the goalkeeper unable to react.

Instantly, the stadium exploded. Marcus ran towards Arthur, jumping into his arms and yelling bloody ****. A sea of bodies slammed into them- Arthur's team-mates, all celebrating the history that they made.