#Seniors Leg Strength

[heathermehf]

Ghostbusters Part 1//Zumba Gold // Halloween Dance Cardio// Easy Dance// Active older adults// [Video]

[peachedtv]

DOUBLE STUFFED ft. Bully!Satoru Gojo + Bully!Suguru Geto

✰ KINKTOBER 2023 SPECIAL...

✰ SUMMARY: Satoru and Suguru never meant to piss you off, but how could they stop when your reactions would always be so pretty? How could they stop when your reactions to more intimate things would be even better?

✰ CONTENT WARNINGS: afab, female!reader, bully!satosugu x reader, noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, multiple rounds, double penetration (anal and v), porn with some plot, marking, biting, semi-public sex (empty classroom), mentions of forced exhibitionism, breast/nipple play, degradation, fingering, squirting, cum eating, oral (fem and male receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, p in v sex, biting, minor blood, crying, creampie, unprotected sex, just a shit load of nasty fucking 😋

✰ WORD COUNT: 7.5k (WTFF)

✰ AUTHOR'S NOTE: having the most insane bully!satosugu brain rot to cope with mfing school

✰ MASTERLIST.

As much as you could hide it well, Satoru and Suguru really pissed you off.

You glare at Satoru, your hair completely drenched and your uniform in disarray. If you were naive, you would’ve mistaken Satoru for accidentally bumping into you and shoving you backward into the fountain as an unfortunate event. Perhaps the first time it could have been. Perhaps the second was just bad luck. Although, by this point, he had shoved you into the pond every single time you were tasked with feeding the school’s koi fish—and you were not some idiot to miss the way Satoru would hold back a snicker as he offered you a hand out of the fountain.

“You okay? My bad, Himiko.” You see Suguru snort from behind him, his palm covering his mouth as Satoru tries to maintain a sorry excuse for a poker face. It was obvious he was calling you by the wrong name to piss you off, to really degrade you down into your place. But what could you do?

“My name is Y/N..” You mumble, refusing his hand with a lithe wave as you stand up with a light shiver, hugging your arms to your chest, consequently squishing your boobs together in a way that has Suguru's eyes wandering to your cleavage. Your uniform was utterly soaked, hugging tightly to your body, and you held back a frown. Honestly, half the reason why Satoru loved to torment you this way was for the view he’d get. Stupid little you wouldn’t even realize your pink lacy bra would be on full display when your thin blouse turned transparent from the water. For a moment, he’d forget to even reply to your correction, prying eyes hidden behind his sunglasses as they traced from your breasts down to the way your skirt hugged your ass, admiring the way that the water dripped from between your legs could be mistaken so lewdly without proper context.

“Oh, right. My bad, Y/N.” He’d play off, patting your head and picking up the packet of fish food from the edge of the fountain, placing it idly onto a stone.

You felt your heart burn, your hands tightening into fists. Satoru really loved seeing you hold back your insults, a smile spreading across his lips every time you had to pause and take a deep breath to regain your composure after his antics—and there was a reason why you never snapped at them, a reason why you always bit your tongue.

Satoru and Suguru weren’t just your average high school fuck boys. Everyone knew Satoru as the closest thing man could get to being god, attributed to his precociously stupid six eyes and infinite void. Even with his status as a student, he still surpassed the strength of his instructors, borderline toying with them during practice spars, directly toying with his seniors during missions, and mercilessly fucking with you at any moment he could get. His power, his status, the admiration, all this built his sky-high ego that fueled a stupid smirk that could never be wiped off his face. Everyone respected him. He was a newborn pillar of the Jujutsu world, after all. And how could little you stand up against that?

Meanwhile, Suguru stood as Satoru's right-hand man. Suguru was Satoru's 'angel' on his right shoulder, the one who would talk Satoru into a foreign concept of mercy. Despite that, the man still found a certain level of amusement at your disarray. Suguru held an excessive amount of reputation alongside his white-haired friend. With his stupid amount of cursed energy, paired with his cursed spirit manipulation, his ever-growing strength paralleled any of the faculty at Jujutsu Tech. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest. Thus, how could you bite back at their antics when even the teachers kissed the ground they walked upon, too fearful to scold them without fearing for the end of their careers.

It was the way that you bit your tongue against them that was the funniest part. Reactions, that's what they fed off of. Your reaction when you were shoved into the fountain, a yelp slipping past your lips before you'd be absolutely drenched, flailing to pull your skimpy skirt over your ass. The same skirt they bribed the teachers into giving you a size too small because 'the school ran out'. Your reaction when Satoru would accidentally slam his shoulder against yours, causing you to swear it was no big deal before you'd pout as you picked up your things. Satoru and Suguru found themselves entranced in the way you'd react to things: to stress, to annoyance, to teasing. They wanted to see more and more of your sweet little expressions.

Satoru and Suguru weren't just your average high school fuck boys, but you were beginning to lose your mind, you were beginning to not care of whatever reputation and power they had.

It didn't start off tame, but it still managed to rapidly skid downhill. Satoru and Suguru's antics kept progressing further and further, pushing your boundaries and dignity to the limit. At first, there was a minor jump from physical annoyances, such as 'accidental' shoulder bump, developing into more verbal degradations. Suguru would slip one of his cursed spirits into the door of the classroom, fumbling with the key pins until you were trapped inside.

"Oh, is poor little Y/N stuck?" Satoru would smile, his six eyes watching through the door as you would desperately toy with the knob, eyebrows furrowed. "Please, just open the door, Satoru! I have a club meeting today." You frowned, lips pouty as you looked to the door pleadingly, unknowing that Satoru was feeding off your helpless and frustrated expressions.

"Why don't you ask nicely?" A smirk spread across Satoru's lips, he could practically taste the humiliation rising inside you.

"What?" Your voice was trailed off, faint. You knew it was needless questioning for clarification as if you hadn't heard Satoru as clear as day.

"Beg us to open the door. Come on now, I know the weak usually have experience begging for their lives, use that skill in a different aspect. You're a smart girl, no?" Suguru chimed in. You felt the back of your neck burn with embarrassment. There was no way they were being serious, right? You glance to the clock. 16:52, your meeting was set to start in 8 minutes.

"Guys, please. Not today, I really need to get goi-"

"That doesn't sound like begging. Now does it, Suguru?" Satoru cut you off, his voice dismissive. Suguru smiled. "No, you're right there, Satoru." You fell silent. The minute hand ticked. 16:53.

"...please open the door." You said flatly, resting your forehead against the door with your hand weakly hanging off the knob. You were growing tired. Tired of their antics.

"You can do better than that." Satoru snorted. The door slightly sank towards you, likely as a result of Satoru leaning his back against it. You bit the inside of your cheek, gripping your hands into fists. You had the power to break down the door. To shove past them. To curse them out. It was becoming too much to hold back. You swear under your breath, sliding your palm down your face to recollect before you let out a deep sigh.

"...please, Satoru. Please, Suguru. I'm begging you to open the door." You tried to lace as much emotion into your speech, but it still held an undertone of absolute irritation that anyone wouldn't be able to miss. Still, the door clicked, sliding open. "See, that wasn't that hard, was it?" Satoru leaned over you, towering as he smirked, his hands dug deep into his pockets. You frown at him, pushing past him and Suguru as your shoes tap against the wooden floors to get to your meeting.

"Cute, wasn't that?"

"You're right on that."

You didn't think it could get worse. Although, the devil truly knew how to make things work. The devil being Satoru and Suguru.

Quickly, the two's antics would turn purely humiliating. They'd have you beg to be let out of locked closets, classrooms, bathrooms, and storage rooms, until it was having you kneel in front of them and apologizing for bumping into Satoru even if it was obviously your right of way. You'd keep your palms resting on your knees, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up to Satoru with your doe eyes, speaking a soft apology with shame rising heat to your cheeks. Your fingers would fiddle together, nails digging into your skin to try and push past the embarrassment. There was a brace of silence in the classroom after you mumbled your apology. Satoru stood tall in front of you, while Suguru leaned against the teacher's podium with his arms folded in front of his chest.

"You know, I don't think sorry is enough anymore." Your chin picks up to look at Suguru with widened eyes. "What..?"

"I think you're right," Satoru added, kneeling down to you as he took your chin between his fingers, redirecting your gaze to him. "You've been causing so much trouble for us, no? I believe you need a better way to make it up to us this time." Satoru's voice was silky, his head tilting as he spoke, eyes trailing down to your neck, collarbones, before resting his gaze on your breasts. You felt confused, and for some reason, your heart began to sink down into your stomach. "How do I make it up to you?" You were hesitant, slow, your voice hiding back its quiver. Satoru smiled.

You choked out a sob, stifled by the fat cock nudging into the depths of your throat. Satoru's hand held your hair back tightly, your scalp burning as he carefully thrust into your face and used your hair as leverage. You blinked through a build of tears, hands weakly pushing against his thighs to try and tell him to let up, to not fuck his cock so deep into your face. With a particularly forceful thrust, the tip of Satoru's dick punches into the back of your throat, your esophagus contracting as you gagged. Satoru held you firmly in place, and tears began to fill into the corners of your eyes.

"Fuck, just like that, pretty girl." Satoru's breath was ragged, his eyebrows knit together as he looked down to you, pulling back before fucking another harsh thrust into the back of your throat. "Breathe through your nose, now. I can't have you passing out on me." Satoru guided you gently, yet the way he gripped your head and held you to bottom out contrasted greatly with his kind tone. It was a lot easier said than done, especially with how large his cock was, stretching your throat and causing a deep ache in your jaw. Satoru groaned when you swallowed, his head falling back as he closed his eyes. He began to pick up his pace, thrusting his hips while simultaneously pulling and pushing your head up and down him. He never failed to hit the back of your throat with each thrust, smiling when your two hands on his thighs would slowly grip him tighter, a silent way to beg for him to slow down. He never did.

Precum leaked from his tip, swathing against your tongue, salty with a lace of sweetness. He felt himself losing his mind. Satoru cursed under his breath. Why hadn't they done this earlier? How could they have let such a perfect little thing like you slip past their gaze all these years? He watched as you turned your gaze up to him, locking eyes. Your mouth was stuffed full of him, tears welled up in your eyes before they ran down your pretty face. This, this was it. This is what he and Suguru really needed. Throughout their years, he and Suguru had had their way with many dumb, pretty doormats just like you. But as Satoru starts fucking your mouth, heavy breaths falling past his lips as his balls began to slap against your chin, he could tell that your holes were going to be the best they'll ever fuck. You shut your eyes tightly, looking up to him pleadingly with him to give you a break, to let you breathe even just for a little bit. He could tell you've never done anything like this before, or at the very least, never with a cock as large as his. Your innocence was only driving him even more mad, having him relish in the way that he and Suguru would be the first ones to break you in. To use you. To fuck all your holes. Satoru's eyes traced down to your throat, watching the outline of his cock bulge in your neck and a build-up of your saliva drip down from your chin onto your clothed tits.

"Fuck... Eyes on me." His eyebrows knit together, voice airy. With one hand still gripping roughly in your hair, his other reaches down to your throat. His palm wraps around the entirety of your neck easily. You're so small compared to him. Like a dumb little lamb that's wandered too far into the woods, too far into a lion's den. He gives your neck a light squeeze when he bottoms out, hearing you gag and your throat tightening around his cock in response. Once he notices your hands practically scratching down his thighs, he builds up the restraint to give you a break, pulling his cock out of your mouth with a grunt. You gasp, coughs and choked heaves of air borrowing through as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Maybe that was enough, you thought. Maybe now, they'd leave you alone, your dignity bruised and purity shattered.

Much to your dismay, Suguru unbuckled his pants, walking towards you slowly. You look at him with wide eyes.

"W-Wait, I don't—"

"Don't what?" Suguru cut you off, lightly tapping the tip of his cock against your cheek with one hand, his other hand pushing his hair out of his pretty face. Your lips quiver, and you turn your face away from him.

"I don't want to do this anymore..." You looked down to the floor, your hands fiddling together nervously while you knelt before him. Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers running through your hair gently, tucking loose strands behind your ear.

"You really think we care?" You look up to him slowly. His eyes were half-lidded as they stared down into you, cold. He felt like another person. Many times Suguru would be the one to hold Satoru back, Suguru would be the one who kept you just a little bit safer. Between the two, you'd pick him. Suguru seemed kinder. Yet, you realized your mistake soon enough. Your heart sinks into your stomach. Suguru's grip tightened upon your scalp, he looked irritated.

"When are you going to drop the act?" He pushed your head back, craning your neck to look directly up to him, holding you firmly in place, like a dog being punished to stay still and look to his owner from the ground.

"What..?" You felt a sense of dread sink about you. Suddenly, Suguru lets go of your scalp, grabbing onto your neck and manhandling you into Satoru's lap. Satoru is sitting upon the teacher's desk, with your back against his chest, flush upon his lap. You choke, struggling, hands trying to push and pull at the wrist that kept air keenly out your throat. Suguru signals to Satoru, and Satoru's hand replaces Suguru's on your neck, holding you scarily still. You felt trapped. Small. Vulnerable. Sugur's large hands hooked beneath your thighs, pushing your knees flush against your shoulders before Suguru knelt in front of you. Your skirt pooled around your midriff, and Suguru traced his fingers idly from your clit down to your hole through the fabric of your panties.

"I'll make a deal with you," Suguru's eyes flickered to your face, his gaze sharp as he tilted his head. The view was stomach-churning. Seeing one of the pillars of the Jujutsu World, knelt between your thighs as he played with your cunt through your underwear, just didn't look right. Suguru hooks his middle finger into the side of your underwear. "If I check your pussy and it's not wet, Satoru and I will leave you alone. Does that sound okay?"

"That's not—"

Satoru cuts you off. "I think that sounds like a great deal." Satoru laughs. Suguru hums, pushing your underwear to the side and leaning towards your cunt with a curious look. You writhe, struggling against Satoru's hold on your neck. His large hand gives a warning squeeze.

"Wet pussy never lies, does it?" Suguru chimes, you choke out a panicked moan when his finger probes against your hole, his middle and pointer finger spreading your labia with a V. His other hand slips into his pocket, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture.

"Stop—"

Suguru flips his phone screen towards you and Satoru, your pussy on full view. "What do you think, Satoru?"

"I think," Satoru speaks, "Y/N's body is a lot more honest than her mouth, hmm?" His breath hitches against your ear, you could practically feel him smiling against you.

"Please—ah!" You jolt when you felt cold air blown right against your hole. You squirm, clentching around nothing as your hips struggle and your breath writhes. Satoru groans a little in response, as your needless struggling has amounted to nothing but grinding against his clothed erection. Suguru laughs, leaning back in to gently suck onto your clit. You wretch out a moan, biting harshly into your cheek. Satoru begins to knead your breasts with two large hands, completely enveloping your chest with his palms, his mouth kissing and sucking deep marks of purple and blue into the side of your neck while he works his way to toy with your nipples.

Suguru begins to slowly lap at your clit, sucking onto your clit before his tongue swirls about it harshly. You shutter out a moan, your hands grabbing onto Satoru's wrist to hold on for dear life, your legs trembling and trying to close. Satoru clicks his tongue.

"We can't have you hiding from us, pretty girl. How can Suguru make you feel good then?" Suguru rests your legs onto his shoulders, his hands going to grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continues to suck and lick at your clit, his tongue working wonders and flicking against the bud skillfully. Your breath catches as a lump in your throat, head falling back into Satoru's chest. It's too much. It's too way too much. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes, and you try to push your legs against Suguru's shoulder to no avail.

"T-Too much—" Your voice is weak, shaky from the overstimulation. Satoru gently shushes into your ear. "You can be a big girl for us, can't you?" He hums, his hands grab your wrists and bunches them behind your back. You curl up, body stiffening, opening your eyes to see Suguru looking up at you, staring at you intently and you nearly become lost in his dark eyes.

Soon, you're dragged right back down to Earth when Suguru presses his middle finger against your hole, twisting it until it pushes past your walls, and the heel of his wrist bottoms out against the underside of your clit. You yelp, sharply sucking in a breath of air as Suguru redirects his gaze back to your cunt, humming as he laps up your clit, sloppily pressing the flat of his tongue and dragging upwards before moving his tongue side to side across your bud. Your wrists twist against Satoru's grip when Suguru works another finger inside your hole, stretching you out as he scissors deep inside of you, the pads of his fingers pressing against your g-spot.

Squelches mixed with your struggled moans fill the silence of the classroom, Suguru's tongue pulling away from your clit. With his fingers still inside of you, he stands up, grabbing your chin between his fingers as he leans in to kiss you. You squirm under his touch, closing your eyes tightly, trying to block out what's being forced onto your body. His kiss is full of passion, although it's completely devoid of the kindness and affection that couples usually display. It feels as though he's eating you alive, mouth hungrily enveloping with yours, his tongue pushing past your lips and tasting you completely, muffling all of your panicked sobs and moans. Suddenly, Suguru's fingers begin to pound into your cunt, the heel of his hand slapping against your puffy clit as he slams his fingers in and out of you repeatedly. You feel a knot begin to form in your womb, legs shaking and hips trying to wiggle away from the stimulation. Suguru doesn't slow down. His tongue lapping up into your mouth, teeth biting your lower lip so hard it bleeds as he quickens the pace on his fingers while they curl upwards once fully inside you. A tang of iron spills onto your tongue, and Suguru feels himself being driven halfway insane, drunk off the taste of your pussy, the taste of your mouth, your moans, and your struggled whines.

"I-It hurts." You cry, pussy burning from the stretch as his fingers remain relentless to your cunt. You feel like you're being split in two, and Suguru experimentally scissors inside of you, causing you to shiver and your hips to grind in Satoru's lap.

"I bet," Suguru says. "You're really tight. Relax, and let me in, pretty girl." Your thighs tremble, and Suguru continues to work his way at your cunt, letting go of your chin to rub circles into your clit. Your head falls back as your mouth drops into an O against Satoru's chest. The build-up of pleasure stacks tenfold over itself, completely coiling until it snaps. You cum hard. With a nasty squelch, your pussy clenches around Suguru's fingers tightly, writhing out broken moans as Suguru keeps his fingers deep inside you to curl and probe upwards against your g-spot while he leans back down to suck and tongue at your clit. You sob, his pace persistent and mean, bullying you past your orgasm into painful overwhelms of overstimulation. You feel as though your body is being thrown into overdrive, and your thighs are trembling upon Suguru's shoulders, wrists struggling to get out of Satoru's grip as he holds your arms firmly behind your back.

"Enough, S-Suguru, plea—ah! Too much..—!" You sob, Suguru's fingers continuing to curl and fuck into you, his tongue swishing around your puffy clit. You feel something deep in your pussy snap. You squirt onto his fingers with a scream, tears welling into your eyes as he slams his fingers into you until you're fucked dumb—thighs trembling, chest heaving, and back laid limp against Satoru's chest before he finally pulls his sloppy fingers out of you, his face completely drenched in your arousal.

"That was fuckin' hot." Satoru breathes out, letting go of your wrists and kissing your neck. Suguru licks his lips, relishing in your taste as he lightly slaps your clit, laughing when your eyes widen and your body jolts in response.

"Alright now, upsie daisy." Satoru grabs underneath your arms and pulls you off his lap. You stumble, legs much too weak to stand on your own so soon after your orgasm. Suguru catches you on his chest, peppering light kisses onto the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings on how good you did as he holds you up by your waist. Satoru comes up behind you, pushing your skirt over your ass and pulling off your panties until they pool loosely about your ankles. You sob, your hands moving back to push Satoru away by his hip when one of Satoru's large hands wraps about the entirety of your two wrists, pinning them behind you and arching your back until your ass is flush against his dick and the back of your head is against his shoulder. Satoru's free hand wraps around your neck, holding you in place as you squirm.

"Atta girl, don't be such a cry baby." Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back slightly, fucking his cock between your thighs, grinding it against your puffy clit and pussy. You clench around nothing, knees gluing together and hips trying to push back against him desperately. You struggle, wrists squirming to free themselves out of Satoru's mean grip. You scream when one of Satoru's thrusts between your thighs causes the head of his dick to catch into your hole before sliding up to your clit. Suguru smiles at the sight, leaning against a desk in front of you and Satoru as he strokes his cock slowly. Satoru lets go of your neck, still holding you up by the wrists held behind your back, as he takes the base of his dick to press his tip against your hole.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" He muses, voice airy as he slides the head of his dick up and down from your hole to your clit. "No wonder you're so wet." He hums, kissing the side of your neck.

"Stop—oh!" Your voice dies in your throat when he sinks his fat cock into you and bottoms out completely in one thrust, your mouth falling open silent as your eyes widen from the pain. You try squirming away, and the moment you do, Satoru's free hand slides down to press his palm firmly against your womb.

"You feel me in there, pretty?" He muses, licking up the helix of your ear. You sob, trembling in response. You look down to make sure you haven't been split in half, seeing the way Satoru's hand nearly covers the entirety of your lower stomach, seeing a bulge in your tummy from his fat cock nestled deep inside you and against your cervix. Satoru can barely concentrate. He hasn't even begun moving, yet you're already squeezing him so good.

"Fuck... Just like that, baby." Satoru's breath is heavy against your ear, and he bites down on your shoulder to ground himself. You're a strangled mess. Writhing in his arms, your entire body trembling as broken pleas fall upon deaf ears the moment you cut yourself off with your own little moans. Satoru and Suguru can't help but glance at each other, smiling. Fuck, how could such a pretty little thing like you slip past them all these years?

Without warning, Satoru pulls back until only the tip remains inside, before he thrusts his hips forward and bottoms out into you, his hips pressed flush against your ass. You choke out a scream, just as Satoru's hand slaps against your mouth to muffle you.

"Oh common, it wasn't that bad, mm?" Satoru's index and middle fingers push past your lips, swirling about your tongue. "Don't be so loud, unless you want the whole school to know?" Your heart sinks to your stomach, and you swallow, shutting your eyes tightly as you weakly shake your head in response.

"Maybe she really is that dirty of a girl, we'll never know until we try." Suguru muses, pulling out a cigarette from his pants pockets along with those fancy butane lighters with a stupidly long, purple-colored flame. He lights it idly between his long fingers, watching you furrow your eyebrows as the first puff of smoke is blown your way.

"We'd have to start off easy though, she's so sensitive she might die on the spot if we just fuck her in front of a crowd," Satoru replied, slowly pulling his cock out to the tip before sinking back in harshly. You can't even understand what they're saying, Satoru's hand completely shutting you up, his fingers fucking your mouth while his dick has you completely filled to the brim. You feel as though your brain is stupidly empty, overfilled with pain, laced with what you refuse to believe is absolute pleasure. It's too much. The feeling of his fingers in your mouth, against your tongue, his cock dragging against your walls. It's too much. Way too much, and yet Satoru has barely even begun moving.

"Should we start it off with a couple cursed spirits as our audience?" Suguru chimes, head leaning back as the nicotine seems to take its hit. "Nah, that's boring. How about...ah, I know!" Satoru sounds much too cheerful, when he suddenly pulls out to the tip and slams back into you once again. You yelp, muffled sobs passing through the fingers in your mouth as you struggle with your hands pinned behind your back. You moan aimlessly, forced up on your tippy toes to keep taking his dick due to how tall Satoru is compared to you.

"S-Sato—ru! P-Please stop..." A particularly hard thrust stutters you, drowned out by the sounds of him as he begins to pound into your cunt. Perverted squelches drip arousal down your thighs, wetting Satoru's dick, and allowing him to fuck you faster, to fuck you harder. Your legs feel tingly, your clit a puffy, overstimulated mess when Satoru removes the digits in your mouth and uses your own spit to rub circles onto your clit.

"Mmm, how about Nanami?" Suguru suggests. "Fuck her in front of that blonde?" Your heart sinks.

"Oh! That's a good ide- hmm?" Satoru laughs darkly, continuing you fuck into you, his grip on your wrists as relentless as the cock fucking up against your cervix. "God, you fucking clenched around me when Suguru said that. What a dirty slut." Satoru's voice is dark, amused, and even without looking at him, you can bet his usually perfectly kept hair is messy and his face is flushed. He sounds pussydrunk, and his pace begins to stagger.

"No way Mr. Limitless is done already?" Suguru snorts, Satoru scoffs in response. "When you get your turn, let's see how long you last." Satoru rolls his eyes. Satoru becomes annoyed at Suguru's tease, wanting to prove his best friend wrong. And so, he bends you over the teacher's desk, your tits squished against the cold wooden surface as he grabs your hips with both hands, fucking into you like there's no tomorrow. You yelp, eyes rolling to the back of your head, back arching as you held onto the edges of the desk to soften the recoil Satoru's thrusts were causing to your body. He was so big. Both his dick and his stature. As Satoru leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back as he furthered his markings of hickeys and bites upon your shoulder and neck, you felt as though you were cornered, sandwiched with no way to escape. Satoru fucked into you nonstop, and you swear if he kept up his thrusts he would eventually push right into your cervix and fuck his precum into your womb.

You tightened your hands into fists, sobbing in response to a particularly brutal thrust that fucked you so hard you swear you felt it in your stomach. You haven't been pleading for a while now, your moans cutting off your speech completely, Satoru's dick fucking you too dumb to even know what was going on. Where were you again? What time was it? All of your questions would be fucked out of your mind from the drag of Satoru's cock against your walls alone, a vein catching against your velvety walls before he'd slam back into you with no regard to your pain, to your overstimulation, to your sensitivity. He fucked you mercilessly, like a little human fleshlight, as though Satoru wanted to mold your insides to perfectly fit his cock, to ruin you for any other man besides him and Suguru.

"Shit, you still with me?" Satoru asked, his voice low, breathing heavy. He moved your head to rest your cheek against the desk, and he laughed when he saw your fucked out face, eyes rolling back as he kept fucking into you even as he spoke, even as he was trying his best to hold off filling you up with his cum just to avoid Suguru's teasing if he came so soon. Satoru looked at your fucked out face. And although he felt himself fall in love with the view, he needed something new, something more. Sure, your cock drunk state was a view that engraved itself happily into his mind, but he wanted to completely use every part of you. To take all of your firsts as his own. Satoru's pace suddenly flaters, until it comes to a stop. Your chest is heaving, and you sniffle a little. Tears running from your eyes and down to the teacher's desk you were bent over and pinned down into. Satoru gestures to Suguru. Suguru digs into his pocket lazily, before throwing a small bottle to Satoru.

"It'll be a little cold, but don't worry, yeah?" Satoru mused. Even though he was giving you a warning, it was clear his tone held no sense of concern for you. Your eyes widened and hips jolted when you felt something cold and sticky fall onto your asshole. You were about to turn around, when one of Satoru's hands slammed your head back down to hold you flat against the desk.

"N-No! N-No way, stop!" You struggle violently, and Satoru grips your hair roughly, shutting you up through his aggression.

"Oh cool it. Someone would've fucked this pretty ass soon enough, be glad your first is me." Satoru laughs. He ignores your panic, taking his middle finger and swirling it around the rim of your asshole before he pushes it in gently. You scream, biting your bottom lip until you swore you could taste tangy iron. You shut your eyes tightly. This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

"Please...p-please I'm begging you... Stop—ah!" Satoru pays no mind to your pleas, thrusting his middle finger into your asshole slowly, curling the tip and wiggling inside you whenever he bottoms out. His fat cock is still stuffed in your cunt, cockwarming him as he preps your other hole.

"I'm being so kind, no? I'm not even moving and I'm prepping you too! Gosh, be a little grateful, Y/N." Satoru hums, his finger prodding and probing deep inside of you. You've never felt anything like this before, and it feels weird. You try to squirm, to buck your hips away, but you hear Satoru sigh in response, suddenly pulling his cock out to the tip and slamming his hips back into you.

"If you keep being ungrateful, I'll stop caring about you completely." He warns. You sob quietly in response, and the grip in your hair remains firm, pressing your cheek hard against the desk. Smoke from Suguru's cigarette permeates throughout the room, before he drops it onto the ground, stomping upon it and sweeping it up into a small trash can by the door. All you're left with is strangled whines, mewls, and tears that fall down your face, until Satoru works his ring finger into your ass as well. You sob at the stretch, clenching around him to try and push away at the foreign intrusion, yet all that seems to achieve is sucking his fingers deeper. Satoru deems you to be stretched out enough, beginning to pull his fingers out of your ass, before pushing them back in. You buck your hips. You don't know if you're trying to pull away or to the stimulation that's being forced onto your body.

You soon know it to be the prior.

Satoru pulls his hips back, slamming back into you as you yelp and sob in response. He begins to fuck into you while simultaneously fingering your ass at the same speed. Soon, Satoru picks it up. Although he's fucking your ass at a medium pace, the cock pressing against your cervix again and again returns to its previous pounding. You're back to sobbing, moaning aimlessly as you struggle pathetically from the overdrive. You swear you're seeing stars when Satoru adds a third finger into your ass, scissoring the three and curling his fingertips inside you, while the head of his cock presses firmly against your g-spot and cervix, dragging back and forth until your vision feels as though it's fading away. You don't know how long it goes for, but soon, Satoru's three fingers are simply buried into your ass as he focuses all of his energy on fucking your sloppy cunt. His hand releases your head, running down the side of your body to catch your clit between his middle and index finger. You jolt, choking out a wonton cry as he begins to swirl your clit aggressively.

"Cum for me, f-fucking cum." Your body seizes up, stiffening as your eyes roll back and Satoru's cock punches against your cervix. Everything builds up. His cock brutally fucking into you, his fingers pinching and circling your clit, and the three fingers in your ass that begin to pick up their movements as they curl deep inside you. You cum hard, sobbing as your pussy and asshole clench around him, spasming and your legs trembling. If it weren't for the desk you were bent over, you would've fallen completely into the floor, collapsed like an empty fuck doll. Yet you weren't done, not until they were. Satoru fucks you through your orgasm.

"C-Cumming, f-fuck! S-Satoru, too much—AH!" Satoru continues to finger your ass, dick pummeling into you and his pace becoming unsteady when he slams back into you for one last time, tip pressed hard against your cervix before you feel hot spruts of cum filling you completely. Satoru thrusts into you slowly to ride out his high, heavy breaths and degrations falling past his lips.

"F-Fuck, such a fucking whore, huh? Shit..." Satoru leaned over you, chest pressed against your back as he regained his breath before pulling out. You felt a spurt of cum slide down your inner thighs, dripping down from your pussy, and you clenched around nothing. Head empty, fucked dumb, fucked senseless. You didn't even register when large hands pulled you off the desk. You barely even reacted when you were manhandled down to straddle Suguru on the floor.

"Please...enough..." Your voice was weak, your entire body sore and trembling lightly. Suguru shushes you gently, holding the back of your head and cradling you so affectionately. "Shh, we'll take care of you. Wanna feel good, hmm?" Suguru whispered, licking up your neck. You sob in response, knowing that no matter how much you tried to fight them, they wouldn't let you go until they had their fun. Suguru grabs your hips firmly, holding your ass up as he pushes his cock into your cunt. You choke out a moan, grabbing onto his shoulders as your head fell against his chest. You simply cried as he began to fuck you. You thought Satoru surely had molded you into the shape of his cock enough to numb the painful stretch, but you never expected Suguru to be so much thicker. You gripped onto his shoulders tightly, his shirt bunching up beneath your fingers as your desperate cries mixed in with confused little moans as you could only take his fat cock that punched your cervix so hard you felt as though your insides would be scrambled and bruised the next day.

"F-Fuck, n-no more—" You whimpered. Suguru paid you no mind, holding you painfully, his fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he pounded into you with deep grunts. Suddenly, you felt another presence from behind you. Satoru knelt behind you, his cockhead sliding up and down your asshole. You panicked, trying to push your hips away, but Suguru's grip remained bruising. Satoru laughed at your pathetic attempt of squirming away, slapping your ass hard, a sting ghosting where his hand had hit.

"O-Ouch—! Ah!" You yelped in response, and Satoru's hands replaced Suguru's grip on your hips. You were about to open your mouth to protest once more, but Suguru's hands cupped your face and pulled you into a deep, rough kiss. Your moans muffled into his mouth, a confused gasp cut off as his tongue slipped past your sultry lips, your eyes rolling into the backs of your head when Satoru slowly sunk his cock deep into your ass, while Suguru's pace was still unrelenting as he continued to fuck into you like a ragdoll, bruising your cervix and stretching you completely.

Soon, you were an absolute mess. Satoru and Suguru's paces were completely out of sync. Satoru fucked you rough, hard, and fast, his hips slapping against yours as your ass would recoil in response. He held you so firmly, holding no regard for your smaller body as he held you still with too much strength than needed, just to remind you of your place. Satoru moaned each time you'd clench around him, aka each time the tip of Suguru's cock would punch against your cervix once more. Suguru's pace was similarly rough, although he and Satoru would fuck you just out of sync, making sure that whenever Satoru had pulled out to the tip, Suguru's cock would be nestled deep inside of you—and whenever Suguru would pull out your cunt, Satoru would be slamming right back into you. You were nothing but a pretty little fleshlight for the two by now. The two men letting out a series of grunts and low moans as you use your body to their own pleasure, breaths heavy against your ears, deep marks of purple, blue, and bites scattered across your neck, shoulders, upper back, waist, inner thighs. You were completely defiled by them. And fuck, how did they love that. Like a twisted sense of being the first to have something all to themselves, to ruin it for anyone else who wanted to try having a taste.

Your thoughts were completely gone by now, filled with nothing but a cycle: a numb buzz of pleasure that would wind in your womb, a climax to your orgasm, getting fucked right through it, rinse and repeat. How many times has it been? How many times have you cum? You feel as though they have been pounding you for hours, and you shut your eyes tightly, thighs trembling when the coil in your stomach begins to build up once more as Suguru's cock fucked into your cervix, as Satoru's dick pounded into your ass.

"C-Cumming, 'm gonna c-cum..." Your voice was strained, slurred, intoxicated. Satoru laughed from behind you, and Suguru began to circle at your overstimulated clit once more.

"Put on a show."

"Cum then."

You came hard, your grip on Suguru's shoulders tight as you moaned loudly. Suguru stuttered. "F-Fuck, gonna fill you up...make you mine." He rasped, slamming into you one final time before he came deep, hot cum filling you up completely, his dick slowing down his pace to properly jut its final ropes of cum deep into your cunt. Satoru's pace faltered as well, before he gave one harsh thrust that had you recoil forward, pressing your cheek harder against Suguru's chest with a yelp as Satoru bottomed out and filled your ass with his hot cum.

The classroom was quiet. Quiet as opposed to the three mix of heavy breaths, your three bodies tangled together, two cocks stuffing you impossibly full. Satoru was the first to pull out, sitting back on his heels as he pushed his hair back. Suguru grabbed the underside of your armpits firmly, lifting you up and off his dick, a mix of his and Satoru's cum dripping out and onto his abs. Suguru stands up, pulling you up to lay you gently on a table as he leans down to your sloppy cunt. You're completely dazed, and you can only muster a pathetic jolt and whine as Suguru begins to lick your cunt slowly. Your eyes zone out and only occasional whimpers slip past your lips. He laps your pussy up clean, holding your hips firmly as he swirls his tongue around your clit slowly, as though to apologize for being so rough with you. Suguru pulls away momentarily, a string of saliva connecting him to your cunt. His hand slides up the underside of your thighs, pushing your knees into your chest with one hand as he leans down to your ass. His tongue rims you gingerly, and you moan quietly, sobbing so weakly from the final drive of overstimulation.

Once both your holes are clean, Suguru and Satoru gather up your uniform, stealing your panties but being kind enough to fix your uniform. Satoru pulls you up, holding you bridal style as you close your eyes, drifting off to sleep. Suguru stands in front of Satoru, his face still flushed and breath still heaving.

"Should we get plan b?"

"Why the hell would we do that?"

You're watching...

© Peached TV 2023

[butchkaramazov]

The RG Kar Incident: DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES TO RAPE

I’m unsure of how many non-Indians or even non-Bengalis know of this. Regardless of whether you do or do not, I would request you to reblog this post & share awareness about this. DON'T LET INJUSTICE GO UNPUNISHED.

On August 9, 2024, the body of 31-year-old post-graduate medical trainee, Dr. Moumita Debnath, was found partially naked in the seminar room of RG Kar, a hospital in Kolkata. She had just finished working a 36-hour night shift before this and, out of exhaustion, had fallen asleep while studying in the nearest seminar room on the fourth floor of the hospital.

Her family was informed beforehand that she had committed suicide, to which her mother emphasized on the fact that her daughter could never carry out such an act. On further investigation, it was found that Dr. Debnath had been raped and murdered in her sleep.

According to the Deccan Herald,

“There was bleeding from both her eyes and mouth, injuries over the face and nail. The victim was also bleeding from her private parts. She also has injuries in her belly, left leg… neck, in her right hand, ring finger and… lips. [...] “Her neck bone was also found broken. It seems that she was first strangulated and then smothered to death.”

According to Medical Dialogues,

“There were multiple hairs on the mattress and blood was soaked on the blue mattress [...]”

Later, it was found that Dr. Debnath’s glasses were shattered and her eyes were pierced with the shards of her glasses themselves.

Although one of the criminals (Sanjoy Roy) has been arrested, I am certain that there are others involved. In fact, it has been found that Sanjoy Roy, despite being an outsider, was granted access to PG Kar via personal relations with senior police officers.

The chief minister of West Bengal (despite being a woman herself) as well as members other political parties are trying, behind the scenes, to let this case fade away. Why? Oh right, it's really the privileged, upper class & upper caste sons and brothers of ministers who are behind this! No major crime can happen in a country without there being the hand of one or more influential persons, often politically involved.

Sisters and brothers, দিদিরা ও দাদারা, it would be a sin to remain silent in the face of such a crime. Our brave brothers & sisters pursuing medical practise have ceased working in their hospitals to protest against this grave crime against women, against humanity. We cannot let this injustice go unpunished! A crime against a single woman is a crime against all of us! We were born from a woman, raised by a woman—and now, when we see the honour, dignity and life of women at stake, won’t we join the andolan? Won’t we fight for what is right?

Requesting all Kolkata residents (who can) to join in at least any one of the protests mentioned below. There are provisions for elderly & disabled people. Men are invited to join us as well.

For those who want to join the Reclaim the Night protest at 11:55 p.m., please refer to this list of contact numbers (according to your region) provided by Miru Didi ( @arachneofthoughts )

Take hold of the night! We have always been told to stay wary of nighttime and the dangers, manifested in the form of cruel men, we may face. Not anymore—we must reclaim the night! How much fear is fear enough? If anyone wants to know further details and the phone numbers regarding this first event, please DM me.

Blowing the conch has always been a signal of strength. In traditional Bengali culture, it is almost always the women who blow the conch, be it in Durga Puja or the everyday pujas carried out at home. It was, and always will remain a sign of victory over evil. At 11:55 p.m., all those who cannot join the midnight assembly (the aforementioned event) can, instead, blow the conch from their own houses! Let them know you're not afraid. Let them know you've had enough. Let them know that once a revolution starts, especially one spearheaded by women, takes a long, long time to end.

[Please Note: These protests are not personally organised by me. I simply am in touch and will be attending the protest tonight.]

If you can, please do take the time to sign this petition below (courtesy of Miru Didi @arachneofthoughts) to aid our efforts:

If nothing, please do take the time to share and reblog this post wherever you can! DON'T LET RAPE GO UNPUNISHED!

[nyxxxatnite]

Minor Malfunctions

plot: Zed’s Z-Band decides to send him into an odd frenzy

pairing(s): Zed Necrodopolis x afab!cheerleader!reader

warning(s): 18+, SMUT SO SMUTTY, this might be shitty im sorry, doggy style, (slight) non-con, frenzy!Zed, sort of in heat style?, biting, sorta breeding????, public sex, p in v, no protection (WRAP IT PEOPLE), CHARACTERS ARE 18 AND ARE SENIORS

a/n: YALL IM SO TIRED OF THERE NOT BEING SMUT FOR ZED PLUS I NEEDED THIS TO BE OUT IN THE WORLD!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this could not be happening to him. The loud beeping filled his ear drums as he stared at his watch. He accidentally had knocked a drink over onto his watch and somehow it had made it freak out. He was trying to go to school as fast as he could to see if Eliza could help in any way, slowly but surely his mind was starting to fuzz up and he was losing any sense of control.

the sound of cheers could be heard from the football field outside of Seabrook High, the familiar sound of his girlfriends voice louder than any of the other cheerleaders was ringing in his ears. And just like that any of the control he had built up was out the window. His body was overly hot and his mouth felt dry. But this was different from his usual zombie frenzies. He wasn’t thirsting for flesh, or any sort of human anything…well. That was a lie. His body was aching all over and he felt a sudden tightness in his black jeans. Was this frenzy…making him aroused?

he let out a low growl as he skulked onto the field, watching the cheer team disperse leaving his familiar love alone. The closer he got the more he could smell her, and the worse the heat felt surrounding him. The shorter girl heard the footsteps and spun around, making immediately eye contact with the zombie teen. Her bright smile would usually cause him to smile as well but with his frenzy in action he only gave a snarl.

“Zed! I thought you had gone home….hey, are you feeling okay,” her question seemed to go unheard as he reached her.

His arms shot out and grabbed ahold of her, yanking her into his chest roughy as he buried his face into her neck. For a few brief seconds he just smelt her, feeling his mouth started to salivate from her delicious scent. Every fiber of his being was crying out to taste her fully, to put her into his mouth.

“zed, you’re kind of scaring me right now,” she let out a whimper as Zed pressed against her more.

his mouth opened and latched onto her skin, listening to the sharp intake she took. She tasted so delicious, like a batch of cookies…if they had been outside cheerleading and had been spritzed with sweetpea perfume. He gave a groan as he started to leave open mouth kisses along her neck, listening to her let out shaky moans. She tried to push him away to fully look a him but he swatted her hands away and held her tight to his chest.

It was only a few minutes of him marking her up, took entranced by her taste but the brain fog cleared just enough for him to slide his hands up her uniform shirt, listening to her squeak as his cold fingers brushed along her soft skin. His fingers brushed along each of her ribs before grabbing ahold of her breasts, groaning as he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra at all. She flinched away a bit which caused him to let out an angry growl. He pulled his face back and, with the strength given to him by the frenzy, ripped her cheer top clean down the middle.

The girl went to complain but was knocked speechless as she was taken down to the ground. Her breath was gone but only for a second as Zed pulled her cheer skirt up her thighs to pool around her hips and then ripped both her underwear cover and her panties themselves off her body leaving her practically naked to him.

the panic began to set in as she realized they were out in the middle of a field at school. She had prayed to whatever was up there that no one would come out and catch her with her zombie boyfriend between her legs. Between her legs??? When did he get there? It didn’t matter now, as his hands were moving her legs up a bit to rest on her chest and his face was being buried into her pussy lips. A cry of pleasure and surprise erupted from her chest as her head flew back and hit the ground of the field. Her fingers gripped the grass roughly, trying to keep her grounded as slurping sounds came from the zombie teen. He was slurping her like she was his favorite drink and fuck did it make her even more aroused.

his tongue was poking and prodding at her entrance, carefully lapping up her slick and thrusting deep into the tight cavern. He could already feel his chin become soaked from her arousal, but he didn’t care. She tasted so good and he was fucking starving. He carefully moved to wrap his mouth around her clit and sucked carefully on it, letting his tongue roll figure eights onto the bundle of nerves which caused her whimpers to turn into high pitched moans.

she could already feel herself getting closer to the edge, her eyes crossing a bit as she prepared for the delicious feeling to finally crash over her. But it never came. She moved a bit to look at her boyfriend, to complain that she was almost there but was left speechless as he was pulling his pale hard on from the confines of his skinny jeans. She’d seen it before but each time still surprised her. How could he be that big?

With a swift push she was spun to her hands and knees, her ass being yanked back to him. The knowledge of their location had popped back into her brain and she turned her head to look at him again, “Zed, wait please what if someone-.”

a loud moan erupted from her throat again as Zed pushed into her entrance, her fingers wrapping up in the grass again as he gave no time to adjust as he fully sheathed himself inside her tight cunt. Her head fell forward a bit as she tried to relax herself but Zed had no intentions of letting her relax. He grabbed ahold of her hips in a bruising vice as he started to bring his hips back, only to slam right back into her. And he didn’t stop there. His pace he had set was unforgiving.

the sound of skin on skin was loud on the field, along with the cheerleaders cries of pleasure and shouts of the football captains name. Loud growls were emitting from the zombie teen himself, the need to fill her full of his cum was almost too much to bare. With a push, the cheerleaders face was pressed harshly into the grass and the new found angle had her squeezing tight around her sex crazed boyfriend. The feel of his cock bruising her cervix was started to build up that knot in stomach again and she was so ready for it.

she reached back for her boyfriend and slapped her hand against his arm, her loud sobs of carnal pleasure were fueling both his ego and his frenzy and he could feel himself twitch inside of her. The thought of finally being able to fill her made him let out a animalistic growl and his hips started to fuck even faster into her.

and thats all it took as the cheerleader let out a scream of his name, her cum splashing back against his raging cock sent the zombie himself to orbit. With a few final harsh thrusts he was burying himself deep into her and spilling his seed into her womb. And as her hand fell from his arm, it carefully brushed the z-band and somehow zapped it back to normal.

Zed went back and flopped onto the ground behind him, his chest heaving a bit as he tried to gather himself. And after a beat he shot up again and scrambled to his fucked out girlfriend, eyes wide with concern, “baby. Holy shit i’m so sorry.”

the girl gave a soft whine as she wad picked up and cradled in his arms, shivers running down her spine as she realized her boyfriend was normal again. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, relaxing a bit. “Fucking hell, Zed. What was that?”

He gave an awkward chuckle as he reached to her cheer bag that had been strewn away as he had attacked her earlier. He carefully pulled out the extra leggings she had and tugged them onto her as well as his jersey she also had stashed inside, “i accidentally spilt some juice on it earlier and it went on the fritz. But that frenzy…fuck i don’t know where it came from.”

she stood up on shaky legs following her boyfriend and gripped onto his arms, listening to him chuckle at her shakiness. “Well, whatever it was…it was kind of hot.”

Zed felt his body tense a bit at the his girlfriends new kink discovery and sighed, knowing damn well he’d have to pull it out more.

“you better pay to get me a new uniform, Necrodopolis,” she snapped as she picked up her shredded uniform.

it was worth it, right?

[kyra-cooneyx]

the power of love — l.wienroither x williamson!reader

summary: after signing with arsenal, you tear your acl and move into the ‘acl house’. you and laura grow close much to the dismay of your older sister leah

“now this is the kit you belong in.”

you rolled your eyes at beth, yelping loudly as an arm wrapped around your neck and yanked you down.

“it’s only taken her ten years to finally get that badge back on her chest.” katie teased and you clawed at her arm.

“let go of me!”

“don’t break her, katie,” leah laughed, stepping forward to help you out. “i’d very much like her to step foot on that pitch in one piece.”

as soon as katie’s grip loosened, you ran straight over to beth, taking shelter in her cubby. you glanced down at the arsenal crest on your jersey, feeling pride swell in your stomach.

unlike your sister, you didn’t sign with arsenal after leaving the academy. you signed your first senior contract with manchester city. of course leah wasn’t best pleased since you’d both been arsenal fans for as long as you could remember but ultimately she would support you no matter what you ever decided to do. needless to say, she was ecstatic when you told her that you’d signed for arsenal and would be transferring in the january window. and after two weeks of being back in london and training with the girls, you had your first arsenal start.

“nervous?” leah asked as the team made their way into the tunnel.

“a little.” you admitted, glancing back at her.

“you’ll be great, we williamson’s are.” she winked at you and a small smile grew on your face.

katie clapped you on the back as the teams began making their way onto the pitch and despite it being an away game, you could already hear the arsenal fans chanting.

standing in the joie stadium as part of the away team was surreal for you. it was once your home and with a quick movement of a pen, you had become a visitor. you shared smiles and quick handshakes with your former teammates before running off with your new ones.

“you got this little leah.” katie whispered to you and you rolled your eyes fondly at the nickname you’d been given.

and for the first ten minutes of the match, everything seemed perfect. or as perfect as things could be.

as you moved to kick the ball, your foot got caught on the ground and you fell the floor, clutching your knee in agony. straight away you knew what you’d done.

despite being on the other side of the pitch, leah somehow made it over to you before anyone else. her legs were moving before her brain could really register your cry of pain, hearing caitlin frantically calling for the medics.

leah knelt by your head, wiping your tears as the medical staff stabilised your leg. there was no argument to be had when she motioned for herself to be subbed off as well.

your sister held your hand through it all. through the initial examination, the news that you had indeed torn your acl as you’d suspected, even after you arrived back at your apartment a week later after your surgery.

in leah’s eyes you’d been the picture of strength. you hadn’t shed a tear—that she’d seen. and you held your head high as you hobbled around on your crutches.

and to you, leah had been your rock. a reason to not give up. she held it together for the both of you and not once had she left your side.

so after a few weeks leah decided to pop to the shop whilst you were napping—something you’d done a lot. but you woke up. and as you slowly began to realise leah wasn’t there, you looked down at your knee, tears burning in your eyes at the scars that littered your skin.

for the first time in weeks you let yourself feel. and you cried and cried, letting all the emotions you’d held back flow from you like endless waterfalls.

when leah re-entered the apartment and heard you crying, she panicked. she quickly placed the bags down before rushing over to you, pulling you into her arms and holding you tightly. she hummed quietly until you stopped crying, a shaky sigh leaving your lips.

you knew leah well enough to recognise her body language, she was tense and clearly holding something back. it was her turn to sigh and she gently ran her fingers through your hair. “bub, can we talk?”

“about what?”

“before you say no, i want you to really think about this, okay?” the tone of leah’s voice had you sitting up to really look at her. “i think you should move in with beth and viv. they can do more for you than i can right now. and laura’s there as well.”

your eyebrows furrowed and you could feel your lips trembling. “but why? this is—this is fine. we’re doing okay. i need you to help me leah, i don’t trust anyone else—“

“and i will help you in any way i can but i mean that they can do more for you up here,” she gently tapped your temple. “you need help with it mentally and i can’t do that for you. they can.”

leah watched as different emotions flashed across your face in quick succession and you looked at her. “you’ll come visit me right?”

“i’m not banishing you back to manchester,” leah laughed and you pouted at her. “you’ll be ten minutes down the road.”

“…but you’ll visit?”

“try and stop me.”

-

you moved into beth and viv’s house fairly quickly but you’d not made much of an effort to leave your newly appointed bedroom until you got the news that you could get rid of your crutches around a week later.

beth and viv were miles ahead in their recovery so you were thankful that you had laura—who had done her acl about a month before you. it was further proving leah’s point that you were exactly where you needed to be. and it was nice that a lot of the other arsenal girls popped in and out every day to see you all.

but with you off crutches, it meant that you had a lot more freedom and with a heavy heart, you attended a game at the emirates as a spectator.

at the end of the match, you couldn’t help but feel a little bitter seeing the girls celebrating with the fans. it wasn’t their fault but you hated that you weren’t out there with them because you should’ve been.

a finger lightly tapping your arm brought you out of your head and you turned to see laura smiling at you. “are you coming?”

you nodded with a smile, linking your arm through hers and following beth and viv onto the pitch.

once you were there, you walked as fast as you could to leah, throwing your arms around her. she chuckled and returned the hug, guiding over to where the girls had begun the huddle. you stood proudly between leah and laura, listening intently to kim. you waved to victoria—the other january signing—who stood across from you.

“celebrations at the acl house tonight i reckon!” katie called as everyone made their way into the lockeroom.

the suggestion was met with several cheers. beth and viv were more than happy to open up their home and that’s how you found yourself nibbling on a slice of pizza, listening to leah and katie squabble about exactly who it was that cheated at mario kart.

“you know, i like you,” someone said and you froze mid-bite, turning to look at steph. “you bring a much needed sense of calmness to this team.”

“thanks?”

“and you’re a lot easier to like than your sister.” caitlin added quietly.

you glanced over at leah to see that she was still arguing with katie and had she heard caitlin’s comment, absolutely would’ve kicked off. the three of you burst into giggles and you found yourself sticking close to the australian duo for the rest of the night.

but once the house had cleared, you found yourself in laura’s room, curled up in her bed whilst she slept soundly next to you.

-

leah was sat on the coach when her phone buzzed. she pulled up the text from beth and frowned down at it. suddenly she wished that the acl crew hadn’t opted out of joining the trip to broadfield stadium.

“what’s that face for?” lia asked the blonde, kicking her leg gently. leah slid her phone over, crossing her arms over her chest. “this?”

“yes.”

lia laughed and handed the phone back. “it’s a cute photo, what’s the problem?”

leah shrugged and looked down at the photo again. you were wrapped in laura’s arms, head resting on her chest. her arm was hidden under your hoodie, one of your hands gripping the one she was wearing. it was a cute photo but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

when the team arrived back in london, beth and viv’s house was leah’s first destination. after being let in by viv, leah found you outside with laura, the two of you huddled under a blanket, the austrian giggling at something you’d said.

“they’re cute, right?” beth asked, stepping beside her teammate.

“cute.” leah scoffed.

“you wanted this.”

“no i wanted to get her some support,” leah said. “not find her a new girlfriend.”

“laura’s a good person, leah, you know that better than anyone.”

leah’s jaw clenched. laura was a good person but so was your ex-girlfriend. but leah could remember that phone call like it happened yesterday, how you sobbed so hard that you could barely breathe or get the words out to tell your older sister that you had been cheated on and kicked out. and really the only reason leah didn’t end up in manchester is that chloe offered to take you in until you sorted yourself out with a promise that she and your other man city teammates would look after you.

“leah,” beth spoke quietly, tearing the other blonde’s eyes from you. “your sister really likes her.”

leah hummed in confusion until she looked down at the box that beth had put on the counter. she opened the box and her face softened a little bit upon seeing all the austrian sweets and treats sitting neatly inside. it was clear that you’d taken your time to arrange them and even to decorate the box. a soft sigh fell from her lips.

“oh hi lee,” she heard you say before your arms were wrapping around her in a hug. “my god beth, put that away before she sees!”

“oh relax, she’s still outside,” beth rolled her eyes and you narrowed yours. “fine. it’s going back.”

you smiled sweetly before grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge and heading back outside. you held one out to laura who took it with a mumbled thanks, sitting next to her again.

“i do not think your sister likes me anymore.” laura said and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking over at the austrian.

“what? of course she does,” you insisted as laura shook her head. “laur, you are literally one of her favourite people on earth. you might even rank higher than me.”

you followed her gaze to the kitchen window just in time to see a flash of blonde disappear. with a quiet sigh, you mentally abandoned the plan you had and ventured back inside, giving leah a dirty look before grabbing the box from where it was hidden.

“this is for you,” you’d said quickly once you’d reached laura again, shyly holding the box out to her. “it’s a very late birthday present and a kind of thank you present, i guess. you’ve shown me kindness and patience over the last few weeks when i sometimes definitely didn’t deserve it.”

the silence that followed and the unreadable look on laura’s face had you thinking you’d done something wrong. there was clearly some line or boundary that you’d crossed and there was no going back.

but then laura smiled. a big toothy grin that had your stomach fluttering and your cheeks ablaze.

“where did you find all of this?” she asked you, hurrying to grab the box and rifle through the contents.

“online. there’s a few websites that have international food, i stumbled upon an austrian one whilst looking for a spanish one and… here we are.”

after a few taste tests of the ones laura deemed her favourites, the two of you laid back in silence, staring up at the sky. whilst you were content, you could see laura shifting every so often out of the corner of your eye so you reached out and grabbed her hand, entwining your fingers with hers.

and for a minute or two, it did feel make laura feel a little better but her mind wandered back to leah—and the glares she’d been on the receiving end of and your other teammates—who had told the austrian on many occasions that she needed to just bite the bullet and ask you out because you obviously fancied her too.

“laur,” you said softly, squeezing her hand to catch her attention. “you okay?”

laura nodded and turned to look at you properly, clearing her throat. “would you like to go out with me?”

your eyebrows furrowed slightly. “like… a date?”

“yes. a date.” laura confirmed, watching the grin grow on your face.

“well i thought you’d never ask.”

-

the fans erupted into cheers as the whilst blew, indicating the end of the match. without a second thought, you raced over to laura, throwing yourself into her arms. “i did it laur! i actually did it!”

“you did,” laura laughed at your excitement, bringing her hands up to wipe your tears before they could fall. “and i am so proud of you.”

the things you were feeling were magical and it took everything you had to hold back from pulling your girlfriend into a kiss in front of the sell out emirates crowd who had just witnessed you play your first full ninety minutes since returning.

“i love you. i know i don’t say it a lot but i really do—“

“ugh lovebirds enough!” leah shouted, throwing her arm around laura’s neck and dragging her away from you. “i’m kidnapping your girl, hope you don’t mind!”

you really didn’t. seeing leah and laura go back to the way they were before you came along was everything you wanted. and as the days passed, you grew more and more convinced that the happiness you were feeling would last forever.

[acid-ixx]

the real reason theyre in debt/wip

the cat's official name is mr. lovely and he is a senior stray cat they just picked up. he got a leg amputated cause it was already infected

nicknamed: Stinky, Mr. Fucass, Sir Kangaroo the 15th, and Old Man™

(theyre not explicitly she/her or he/him, they just got long hair and I love drawing eyelashes)

masterlist !

THIS IS SO GORGEOUS OMG ??? i love the line work and the overall composition alongside just how smooth the drawing is 😭 i might as well add this pet into the story (i have plans for chapter 4 omg...) and im rlly gonna do it bec the reader has been thru so much !!! they deserve happiness in their life 💔

ALSO THE PHONE WITH THE "BLOCKED" TEXT ☠️ LMAOAO everything abt this is so stunning and yes the reader will definitely become even more broke bec of stinky the sir kangaroo the 15th mr fucass the old man™.

ugh imagine them being kidnapped into the batfamily and damian trying to find a way to get closer to you by trying to get stinky close with alfred, and using the excuse that you two are destined to be blood siblings because you both share a love for strays!!! you'd only hope that old man™, despite being a senior cat, would at least have some strength left to scratch your younger brother's eyes out because he will NOT shut up about the two of you.

tysm for sending this in, i'd love to see the finished wip but do take ur time<33

[helen-with-an-a]

The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup pt. 3

Hi. So here is part 3 (again, this will have another part because I am determined to get it happy at the end; it's just taking me a while to get there ahahah). Big thanks to @lyak12 for helping me work out my issues with the fic <3

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Ona Batlle x Reader

Flashbacks are in italics

TW: Injury, R ain't ok mentally, suggestiveness

Description: R comes home from Australia to start her recovery

Word Count: 3.6k

You had required three surgeries in total to fix everything – an emergency one to save your leg, one to place the screws and realign everything and one to reattach the ligaments in your knee. The damage the tackle had done was extensive; your shin was splintered into 3, some coming through the skin, and the force of the collision ruptured your ACL and meniscus ligament, too. No one dared show you the video, and you weren’t bothered to look it up. Even though you couldn’t remember what happened, you’d have the scars for life. You had asked what the timeline was for when you could get back on the pitch. One doctor had said it was an if not a when. You didn’t like that doctor. It would be a when – football was your lifeline, your escape when times were tough. You didn’t know how you would cope with it. Your physios at Barca had said that when … if … you were back on the pitch, your playing style would have to change. They had told you in broken English that you probably would never play the same and would have to rely on speed and technical ability rather than strength in matches. But that was ok; as long as you were on the pitch, you didn’t care how you had to play, just so long as you could.

You flew back to Barcelona a month after the World Cup. You wanted to be back earlier, but you hadn’t been cleared to fly and definitely hadn’t been cleared to fly halfway across the world. The medical staff in Australia were lovely – sneaking you extra desserts, cheering every milestone, no matter how small, braiding your hair, and helping apply your moisturiser when you were too tired to do it yourself. Your family had only seen you that first day. You didn’t mind – you didn’t particularly like when they were around anyway. It was always too loud with them. The bad kind of loud. The Lionesses were the good kind of loud. They had piled into your room, staying as long as possible. Georgia had left you with her Tamagotchi, making you promise her you’d try to keep it alive. Being suitably distracted by the mountain of sugary sweets piled on your bed by Hempo, much to the horror of Leah and Sarina, you missed the way Lucy eyed you wearily.

You considered Lucy a big sister, especially since moving to Barcelona. She had been concerned about you since you arrived. The happy, bubbly young woman she had come to care for deeply had retreated back into the quiet shell you had been when you first joined the senior squad. At first, she thought you were just nervous – she knew how scary it could be to be in a new city without many friends. But after a while, she knew it was something more sinister. She barely saw you outside of football; you were always making excuses to avoid team bonding or insisting you needed to stay late to work on things. Things you already excelled at. She grasped just how badly something was wrong with the first international camp of the new year. She thought you would return back to your old ways, finally being around your old friends and not having to navigate another language. But that wasn’t the case; if anything, you grew even quieter – especially around Alessia and Ella. That concerned her the most – you were closer than family to those two. They could always be relied on to drag a smile out of you. So, she kept an eye on you. Quietly observing your behaviour.

Whilst you hated that you weren’t back in Barcelona as quickly as you wanted to be, you were glad you didn’t have to see Ona again so quickly. That night was the last time you had seen her. You hadn’t said anything as she took a seat across from you. She hadn’t said anything as you started to drift into an uncomfortable slumber. Only when she was sure you were in a deep sleep did she break her silence.

“Mai podré dir-te com ho sento,” she whispered. “Sempre t'estimaré. Espero que algun dia em permetis estimar-te de la manera que et mereixes.”

“Oni, I can’t speak Catalan, remember? You’re going to have to repeat that in English.” You laughed as she chattered away. It was an off-day and oddly warm in Manchester. You lay with your head in her lap, top tucked up into your bra, exposing as much skin as possible in an effort to soak up the summer sun.

“Sorry, amor. I’m just happy it’s finally warm here. It reminds me of home a little bit.” She carded her fingers through your hair as you snuggled your face into her stomach.

“Tell me about it?” You asked gently. You loved hearing the stories of her home, her childhood, her life back in Spain.

“There’s this little cafetería back home. It sells the best Crema Catalana ever. I don’t know what they do, but, mmmm ... es tan delicioso. It’s even better than my Mamí’s. It’s so pretty too. It’s got this really cool tiled pattern flooring and vines on the wall at the front. During the summer, they open all the doors and play music and …” You could listen to Ona talk all day; the excitement when she mentions her home is unparalleled. You could feel yourself drifting into sleep – the warm weather, her gentle fingers scratching at your scalp, her intoxicating smell that wrapped around you like a soft hug.

“Mmmm,” you hummed happily. "It sounds fantastic. I wish I could visit,” you commented.

“You shall. I’ll take you. You’ll come to see my home, we’ll do all the touristy things in Barcelona, and then I’ll show you all the local spots in Vilassar de Mar, prometo,” She vowed.

“Good. I …” you cut yourself off with a yawn, “I don’t want to see Barcelona without you.” Your eyes fluttered gently.

“You won’t. I won’t let you. You’re stuck with me for life, amor.” You smiled softly at her words. You liked the sound of being with Ona for life. “Ve a dormir, amor. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You nodded and allowed yourself to slip into a gentle dream.

Arriving home, it was easier to avoid Ona than you thought. You were still on strict instructions to rest. Alexia had tried to force you to stay with her. When that failed, Lucy had tried. You liked your space. You liked your private time. You felt like you could never fully relax around people … except for around Ona - that voice in your head reminded you. No! You couldn’t allow that voice to win. You had a recovery to think of now. You had compromised a little bit, though. You lived in the same building as Ingrid and Mapi, so you gave them permission to get a spare key cut. This allowed you to have people constantly checking on you without feeling like a burden on them. Alexia wanted a key for herself, but she lived on the other side of town, and you didn’t like dragging her so far from her usual daily routine.

To be honest, you were unsure if you wanted to see Ona. Alessia had quietly told you that you wouldn’t calm down on the pitch until Ona held you. In the extra month you were in Australia, you had come to terms with the fact you were still in love with her. You had tried to deny it when you initially came to Spain. But now it was just a fact you had to live with. That night in the hospital was so incredibly awkward … strange … nice. She had stood in a training top you were fairly sure was yours once upon a time, head hung low as she picked at her nails. You wanted to bat her hands away, to tell her to stop, but she had sat too far and out of your reach.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, something’s wrong with Ona”, Hayley whispered to you in the bathroom. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but she won’t stop picking at her nails; she’s really quiet. Something’s not right. I think something may have happened during the break.” You sighed deeply. You also think something may have occurred whilst she was in Spain. You had picked her up from Manchester Airport, and you could tell instantly something wasn’t right. 3 of her fingers were wrapped in plasters, and the others looked just as sore. When you extended your arms out to hug her, she looked a little apprehensive but stepped into your embrace anyway. No matter how much you wanted to keep her in your arms, you stepped away after a few short seconds. You had never seen her so tired, so different, so … you weren’t quite sure what had happened. You kissed her forehead gently as you ushered her to the car.

It didn’t take long for you to find Ona – she was sitting in your cubby after all. Despite your concern, your heart couldn’t help but flutter as you recognised your number on the hoodie she was wearing.

“Me gustas en mi ropa,” You said as you crouched in front of her, hands resting gently on her knee. She didn’t smirk like she usually would. She didn’t react when you started tracing gentle shapes on her bare legs. She just kept picking at her nails. “Oni… lo que le pasó?” You asked in the gentlest tone imaginable. She just shook her head, wiping a stray tear away. “No … hey, hey, hey, no. Oni. Mi niña hermosa. Don’t cry.” You surged forward. “Please don’t cry.” You didn’t know how to comfort her. You had seen her angry, you had seen her scared, you had seen her frustrated. But you had never seen her cry before.

You had eventually coaxed her into going home. You had waited until everyone had left—Hayley hurrying people along to let you deal with the situation. The force with which she gripped your hand left a sour taste in your mouth. You had kept your hand in hers the whole journey home and into your flat. You led her to the sofa as you lay down, pulling her on top of you.

“Now …” You started, “I’m not going to make you talk to me. But I can tell something happened when you were in Spain. I want you to tell me, but I’m not going to force you. Whatever you want to share that’s entirely up to you. But please, Oni … I’m not going to judge you, or laugh at you, or hurt you for telling me anything. Un problema compartido es un problema dividido, right?” You whispered as your fingers slipped under her jumper.

It took a while, but eventually, she told you. You held her as she cried over the conditions in the Spanish camp. You held her as she recounted the story of her being forced from her bed at 5 in the morning for a run and not being allowed to stop until she threw up or passed out. You held her as she ranted about how mean the coaching staff were to Pina, and when she had stepped in to intervene, she had it twice as bad. You held her as she eventually slipped into a fitful reprieve from the nightmare she had just returned from.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake Ona’s voice from your head telling you, you weren’t could enough for Barca. If she thought that before your injury, what would she think about you now? You were looking at a year off the pitch, at least, let alone having to train in a new style and learn a new way of playing that could have you set back even further. It echoed in your mind before behind, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, when you were with the team as they tried to help you feel better.

Most days looked similar for you in the first month you returned. You were still in a cast and brace, so you couldn’t do much. The doctors - and Alexia - had told you how important it was to establish and stick to a routine. So, you did. You woke up at 8.30 every morning. There was training – you obviously couldn’t go, but since all your friends had that schedule to stick to, so did you. You would go into the bathroom and have a really awkward shower; more often than not, you would flood the bathroom, then get ready for the day. Lucy told you that you needed to change out of your pyjamas every day, so you slipped on loose shorts and a shirt – your ‘day pyjamas’ you had christened. You had breakfast with Ingrid and Mapi before they left for training, and then you sat on the couch. All day. With your mind slowly descending into chaos over everything that had happened. And then you would hear the conversations from outside that told you some of the girls were coming round to see you, and you plastered a smile on your face as you asked them about their day, and they would ask you about yours. On non-training days, you granted yourself a lie-in. Keira and Lucy would come by with pastries from the bakery down the round and fresh fruit for you to snack on. You would sometimes have a Lioness Facetime if everyone’s schedules allowed.

You had yet to go to a match or the training facility, watch a game on TV, or even just play Fifa. But that would come with time; you would have to go eventually because that was where the physios and trainers were. People thought you were reluctant to go because of what had happened. Which you were … a little bit. The main reason that made you nervous about going was Ona. A picture of her on your timeline had sent you into a spiral for a good few hours. You were scared of what seeing her in person would do.

You had seen the picture of her in the Champions League promotion. And she looked so good. You had stared for far too long at her beautiful smile that still took your breath away, her chiselled jawline that you used to pepper kisses across when you cuddled up against her, her veiny arms that had made you feel so safe and loved, her messy bun that you had jokingly begged her to teach you how to do, her freckled cheeks that would sport a soft pink hue every time you complimented her, the dimples you would poke at when she was trying to be angry at you but failing miserably.

“Great game today girls, you played fantastically. And well done to Ona.” You were standing next to her in the post-match huddle, she shyly groaned as her achievements were recognised in front of everyone.

“Mi Oni’s got her name on the score sheet,” You sang out as you walked back down the tunnel, arms wrapping around her waist. “We need to celebrate.” A round of cheers from everyone echoed the sentiment. Just as you were about to separate to go shower, you felt Ona squeeze you gently. “Hm?” You asked, scanning her features for discomfort.

“Could we do something … just us tonight?” As much as she loved the girls, she wanted a night with you. Alone. She looked so adorable as she quietly mumbled her desires to you.

“Absolutely we can,” your smile reassured her. You pressed your hands against her cheeks quickly before turning to head to the showers.

You didn’t even bother with an excuse when you messaged Lessi and Tooney.

Y/N: Sorry not coming tonight - other plans x

Tooney: Rude

Tooney: Do these other plans involve a Spanish defender???

Y/N: Maybe x

Y/N: She wanted to do something just us

Lessi: I want details! x

Y/N: Nothing’s going to happen

Y/N: U know we r just friends

Tooney: And I’m just friends with Joe :p

Y/N: Its just a MOVIE NIGHT x

Lessi: If u say so x

Tooney: stay safe x

Y/N: ffs and I do say so.

Y/N: text me when ur both home pls x

Lessi: Will do x

Your other plans involved very little deviation from your regular nights. She had cooked for you like always, serving up a delicious paella that had you begging her for cooking lessons. Over dinner, you relived her goal from your perspective and forced her to tell you what she was thinking when she sent it into the back of the net.

“Now that you’ve started scoring, you won’t stop. I’m telling you.” She had laughed at your promise. “I’m being serious here. We need to come up with a celebration for you.” She just hummed and kissed the top of your head as she gathered the plates and took them to the sink.

Later, you were lying on the sofa watching a Spanish movie she insisted on, telling you how it was a part of her childhood and she needed to share it with you. You weren’t paying any attention. You were far too distracted by her fingers running up your spine. It was driving you mad in the best way possible. Your ear was pressed against her chest, her heartbeat comforting and peaceful as you burrowed yourself deeper into her.

“Estás bien?” Ona asked, your movements catching her attention.

“Yeah.” You responded. “I’m really proud of you, you know that, right?” You shifted again, this time drawing yourself up to cage her in with your arms. The blush reappeared on her cheeks as you stared intently at her. God, she was so beautiful. “And I’m really happy you came to Manchester. You make everything better.” You told her honestly. She was getting overwhelmed. You could see that as she avoided your gaze. You gently poked the place where a dimple appeared when she smiled. “Oni …” you waited until she looked back at you. “Puedo besarte?” You said as you stared at her lips.

“Sí.” This wasn’t your first kiss, drunk or sober. But this time felt different. You couldn’t explain it. Her soft lips parted as you licked the seam of her mouth.

You continued to make out lazily on the sofa before Ona broke away for some much-needed air. You didn’t care, though. Your lips just moved to her neck – you were careful not to leave any marks, no matter how much you wanted to decorate the pale skin with dark splotches that claimed her as yours. She whimpered and whined underneath you until she was begging for more.

“Por favour. Do something. Anything. Necesito más,” she implored, hands tangling in your hair as you pulled away.

“Relajarse. Let me take care of you.” You sighed into her skin.

You're just a quick fuck. Easy. Nothing more to me. Her wicked words bounced around in your head. God, she had really ruined you. That was the first night you allowed yourself to truly feel everything, every emotion you had suppressed and bottled up for the last 9 months. It was painful. Raw. Terrifying.

At first, you were angry — so, so angry. Pure, unadulterated rage bubbled up and over the top of your carefully constructed walls. You threw a vase. It shattered into pieces like your heart had done all those months ago. It was satisfying, but you wanted more. You needed more. You ripped apart a cushion someone gave you as a housewarming present. You screamed and raged and shouted your emotions.

Then you cried. It started as a few lone drops that quickly became a torrent of unstoppable, hot tears. The sobbing hurt. It was painful and gut-wrenching. You had never cried like this before, and that scared you. These were the tears of someone heartbroken, and desperate. You cried so hard you thought you were about to throw up.

When you came to your senses, you were standing in the middle of the living room – how you got there was beyond you – feathers lightly floating around you, the wall had a slight dent, and someone was knocking frantically on your door. You didn’t move. If it was Ingrid or Mapi, they had a key. If it was Lucy or Alexia, they knew where to find the spare set. If it was anyone else, you didn’t want to see them.

Strong yet gentle arms pulled you to a warm body. The scent that engulfed you was soft and sweet. Alexia.

“Está bien, cariño. Let’s get you to bed, sí?” She was too gentle. Alexia didn’t do this kind of comfort. She offered practical solutions, honesty, and tough love.

“I… I’m scared,” You admitted as she helped you twist into bed.

“I know recovery can be scary, pequeña, but you will do it. It will be hard. But you can do it. Te lo prometo, puedes hacerlo. Everyone is going to help you. You can lean on us. We're here for you, bebita.” She was misunderstanding what you were referencing. You weren’t scared of recovery. You were physically healing well. A physio had been sent to your house from Barcelona to assess you at home to see whether you could start your rehabilitation at the club. She had asked you questions, and you had given the right answers. Your scars were healing well, and you had the expected range of motion for your injuries. Physically, you were right on track.

You were scared of your own mind. In the month you had been home alone, you had thought hard about anything. Ona had really broken you, yet you couldn’t let her go. What did that say about you? You had always thought you were stronger than that. You used to never understand what it was like when people would go back to an ex-partner who had broken their heart. Ona was never even officially yours, and she had managed to do so much damage.

This is becoming a lot more intense than I had planned ahahah. Hopefully, the next part will be out soon.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

■●○Shojou Pain○●■

“I want to have a connection with someone. I want to be needed by someone. I want the confidence to feel like it’s okay to live.”

[0][1-Here!]

─── ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ──

"Ask the second years!" Yuji chides, the two of you huddled up on the floor. A note book sitting on your lap as dozens of manga lay across the your desk. "No way!" You create a an 'x' symbol with your hands.

"What if they think I'm not good enough for him!" You cry out, tugging at your hair. Your phone digs as a notfication from Junpei pops up.

"Ha..? They wouldn't." The pink-nette deadpans.

"Think about it..!"

The heroine was cornerd in a desserted hall as the rival scowls. "Why do you keep bothering him! Weirdo!"

"There's gotta be someone we know who has info on him.." Itadori ponders aloud. "Someone with experience.."

Grabbing your phone, you see the small text. Even he was trying to help you out, even if he was doing special training with Nanami. You read outloud the text he sent.

"Junpei said: "Someone one that knows him well enough." "

Yuji hums in agreement. "Someone we know too.."

The two of you stew in thought as Nobara and Megumi return back to the classroom. Lunches in hand, converseing quietly.

"Wait."

Fushiguro pauses, a strange look on his face. The brunette blinks, turning her attention ahead of them.

"Geh-!? Creepy..." Kugisaki mumbles.

There teacher, who had been hiding by the doorway, watches excitedly. Teetering back and forth on his long legs. Readying to jump into the classroom, like a dog having there name called!

"I got it!" You cheer, jumping out of your seat. Slamming your hands against the desk, your gaze faraway.

"Who?"

"Todo!"

Aftee those words were utter, you could hear a small distraught yell from outside.

─── ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ──

"Okkotsus type eh..." Todo mumbled, his muscular frame leaning back against the chair. "Hmmm.. Well, when I first heard of him. I thought of some total badass."

"He is-!" You tried to defend, but stop yourself, never actually seeing him in action. But hearing how Fushiguro respected him, along with being a Speical grade, hell, even close with your seniors!

He... Was a power house.

But. What did you actually KNOW about HIM?

Shaking away your thoughts, you wait expectantly for an answer.

"Ha! When I saw him though, he looked like a scared lamb!" Todo laughed. "But, I could feel his cursed energy as soon as he stepped in the arena."

Sipping at your drink, you watch your friend smirk as he recalls the memories. You nodded along, especially the smallest details.

"But type of woman... He never really told me." He shrugged as you choke on your straw, coughing into your fist.

"Though, your strength to puruse him is admirable!" Todo pat your shoulder ruffly, laughing again. "I'm quite good at reading people, so I'm sure I know his type!"

You sweated, maybe asking the second-years should of been your first choice.

"A strong, resilient woman, with a big rack." Todo nodded thoughtfully.

"...." You smack your head against the table as Todo smiles smugly at his answer. "...Thanks, Todo..." You grit out, before popping your head back up in realization. "Oh! Right, I almost forgot, here!"

Taking the papers out from your bag, you slide them over to him. Whispering, "for your trouble's." You said seriously.

"Huh? What's this.." He picks them up, then immediately becomes quiet.

Holding out your hand, he takes it quickly. Gripping it firmly as the two of you share a look of aknowlegement.

"Good luck! (Y/N)!"

"Thank you!"

─── ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ──

Eyes ahead on the lap course, you huff as you do. Not as good as your pink haired friend, but doing your best!

Hearing laughter near the bleachers, you slow your pace to get a peek.

Maki laughed manically as she swiped at Yuta with her spear as he expertly dodged. Swinging back at her with his blade.

You gaze in awe, almost stopping completely until your nudge by Kugisaki. "Hey, you' alright? You seem space-casey." Your pace became snail-like as the two of you walked and talked.

"I'm fine, just thinking!" You laugh it off, glancing away.

"Hmmm..." Nobara sighed. "I heard from Itadori that you went out on a date."

"HUH!? -A-h.. No!" You explain your situation to jer quickly, fumbling a bit on a few words. But making sure your point came across.

"Good! Cause' I thought either one of us went on a date we'd tell each other, that idiot was lying, I knew it!"

You bashfully defended Yuji, "He just meant "going out" not.. "OUT." " Nobara scowls. "Your worse than he was when I asked."

Huffing, she leaves your side, but pauses. Glancing back at you. "Though, I'll be sure to help you dress probably for a real date." She sassed, before leaving the track to grab her watterbottle.

You follow after before driffing over to Panda's side discreetly as you could.

Noticing you, the cursed corpse welcomes your presence. "Hey (Y/N)! You wanted to see the action?" Panda jokes as Inumaki agreed. "Salmon."

Face warm, you take a seat with them. "Ah, well... I wanted to ask something."

"Go on.."

"Is.. Is.. Okkotsu, seeing anyone?" You smile anxiously, gazing at your senior classmate hopefully.

"Kelp."

"Oh-ho~!" Panda pats your back encouragingly. "I see! You should of said something sooner! Toge is right though, he's single."

You beam, letting out a relived breath. "Ha... I was super curious, but I got worried, then I asked Todo. And he said Yuta's into big bo-"

"He perfers normal." Panda interupted your rant.

You pause, shutting up. Waiting for him to continue eagerly.

Before Panda could continue, Maki yells at you. "Oi! (Y/N), don't slack off." She calls at you, while you squeak when seeing even Yutas attention directed at you.

Slumping in your seat, you smile reassureingly at your two seniors. "Right.. Sorry."

You hop down from the bleachers, not daring to catch a glance at the male who held your heart. Gazing ahead, you walk past Yuta as your eyes light up when seeing Yuji call you over to the field.

"Hey! (Y/N)! Junpei said he's free this weekend to see Earth Worm Four!"

You scream back with delight as you ran to him. "No way! You think we could convice Nobara and Megumi to come with-!"

The Heroine misses the glances she got, oblivious as a typical shoujo maiden.

Maki sighs at your shouting, ignoring it as she glances at her friend. "Yuta, we can take a break now. You don't seem very focused." She mocks, reading his slightly stiff movements easily.

"Sorry Maki."

"YUUUUTAAA~!" A cheery voice sings, walking into grassy area.

"Oh, Gojo-Sensei?"

"The one and only! But, I got a mission for you."

─── ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ──

[Taglist: @mint129106 @iamboredowo @yveening @okkvtsu @bankaixx @imphuong]

[Fan art, reblogs, comments are always apperciated! I hope you all like the update! Are poor guy needs some love!]

[howlingday]

What would happen if Jaune got the Berserker armor?

"What are you wearing?"

"It's this new armor I found in my room." Jaune rapped his knuckles against the heavy metal guarding his body. "I think it's an upgrade to my old armor set."

"It is?" Ruby asked while circling him, poking and prodding into every ornate detail and crevice on his new, black armor. "It doesn't look like it. It looks like it's a new armor set entirely."

"I like the cape, though." Nora chimed. "Makes you look like a fairy tail hero!"

"It doesn't look clean, though." Ren commented. "In fact, it looks like it hasn't ever been washed."

"Well, I like it." Jaune gave his chest a pat and a rub. "It covers and protects me more than my old armor did, and even though it felt heavy picking it up, it doesn't weigh down on me at all!"

"It's still weird. We arrive at this new place and the first thing that you find in your room was a new suit of armor, and your old set can't be found?"

"It's weird, but it's not like we can't find the old set later. That is, if this armor doesn't work out!"

"Ready to go test it out?" Nora giggled, a wide grin on her face.

"You bet!" He beamed just as wide.

--------------------------------------------------

"JAUNE!" Nora screamed as she watched her leader get slammed into the brick wall. The mission had gone from bad to worse, but she couldn't leave him! Even as she was being dragged away by more senior huntsmen, she couldn't stand by and watch as the blood smeared on the wall grew bigger. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

"Will you shut the hell up?!" One man cried out. "He's as good as dead, but at least let his corpse buy you enough time to get away!" She swung at him, but the only thing that got thrown off was her balance and she was pulled in. "We've got her! Go! Go! Go!"

Nora agonizingly wept as the doors shut, and her horrible screams were replaced with the roar of cowardly bullhead engines. Jaune's team escaped, and that was not good enough for him. Dying at the claws of this bastard Hound was almost enough to make him smile, if he had any human strength left to move. It dug its filthy talon into his chest, trying to sever his armor from his body.

"Bad." Growled the monstrous Hound. "Must. Get. Bad."

A baneful Nevermore perched atop a shitty building's corner, watching as it's evil ash-skinned master's pet tried to pry him open.

Jaune felt a sorrow as the traitorous bullhead carried his team away, and finally the tears began to flow. Hot tears began to pour from his eyes, mixing with the blood spilling from his stupid dying body. How dare this beast make him bleed? How dare this filthy, disgusting, putrid monster single him out and force him to be so weak?! Jaune's breathing began to increase as something inside him snapped.

And snap, it did. The armor that he wore into battle snapped around his broken arm, forcing his hand to grab hold of the Hounds' arm. Then another snap came, making it scream in agony and forcing it to drop Jaune to the ground. But before he touched the dirt, the greaves of his armor snapped his legs to keep him standing. Blood began to spill from the armor.

"Kill..." Jaune groaned as blood filled his mouth.

"Kill!" The Hound barked at him. More Grimm began to gather from the distance.

"KILL... YOU..." The helmet snapped shut over his face and a new monster, one worse than any Grimm ever seen before, was born into Remnant. "KILL... YOU... ALL!"

[37sommz-archive]

✼. INVITATION | 2019.

CH. 05. NOW PLAYING: essence by wizkid [fluff, suggestive]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela makes a promise, 2.5k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀MARCH 14, 2019 — melbourne, australia

“P9, Michaela. That is points at home; well done.” 

Eugenio’s voice crackled into Michaela’s helmet. The celebratory shower of applause from the Alfa Romeo garage echoed alongside his voice, adding to the near imperceptibility of his speech. 

Though the sweat from the Melbourne heat simmered underneath Michaela’s baklava, she could only focus on the calming fact relayed to her by her engineer—points in her debut race. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you all. Cheers to the new season,” she responded with a sigh of satisfaction. It wasn’t long after that when she heard her father's voice leak into the radio. A gentle, “Amazing drive, Mickey. We’re eternally proud” only magnified the moment's euphoria. 

Though it was nowhere close to a podium, Michaela figured keeping up with Kimi Raikkonen just ahead in P8 was more than worth celebrating. Finally reaching the garage and kicking the engine off, Michaela hopped out of the car's cockpit with practiced grace. Fist bumps and energized embraces from the team personnel eager to congratulate the rookie driver.

Rushing to embrace her family before turning away to be weighed, her sister, Courtney, was the one to remind her that she had joined a small list of modern drivers who had scored on debut. A whisper of Hamilton and Prost and Villeneuve slipped through her lips and into the shy ears of her younger sister. 

Varied strengths of celebratory pats and friendly hugs kept Michaela in a daze as she floated from the Alfa Romeo garage to the weighing platform. Words of congratulatory relief left the lips of the remaining 17 drivers excluded from the parc ferme madness. 

As she pulled the straw of her energy drink to her mouth, a particularly firm clap on the back shook her from her daze. A familiar German accent filled her ears before she could fully regain control of her breathing. 

“You might have the biggest balls here. Solid drive, Mick.” Helmet in hand, Sebastian Vettel’s acknowledgment drew chuckles of appreciation from the nearby Perez and Hulkenberg. 

Rolling her eyes in response to the senior driver’s sense of humor, Michaela threw a friendly punch into his shoulder. Quickly engaging in light-hearted conversation with a few of the surrounding drivers, Michaela found herself back in that daze. As if totally disconnected from her body, it wasn’t until she was sitting on the floor of her parents’ living room that Michaela realized the magnitude of her achievement. 

The Sommers had taken it upon themselves to invite several drivers to a small cookout after the race. Though George, Lando, Alex, and Pierre, the usual guests, had made their way over, Pierre and Lando’s parents were in tow. Michaela was more than shocked to see Antonio Giovinazzi find his way among the group. Somebody—likely her father—must have extended his invitation to a plus one, Michaela figured. The familiar face of his friend Olivier stood out to her almost immediately. 

Between the chilly November night, they shared in Abu Dhabi and the race in Melbourne, the two had shared little more than polite half acknowledgments. Michaela never got around to calling him back. Not that she planned on it or even truly believed he’d give her the time of day. It must have been that same sense of self-sabotage that Pierre had once mused would “obliterate any potential for romance.” She had called him a dick at the time, remembering the long eye roll she responded with at the time. Sitting there on the floor with her head leaned against her mother’s legs, her hands pulling Michaela’s hair into two neat Dutch braids, she couldn’t help but realize he was right. As he often was, frustratingly. 

It was Pierre’s mother’s words that shook her out of her thoughts. “Have you met Antonio’s friend? The French one?” The question was innocent, but Michaela couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the older woman knew more about him than she let on.

“Briefly,” she decided would suffice to satiate Pascale’s curiosity. Sitting to his mother’s left, Pierre seemed to perk up at the mention of Olivier. Leaning over to mention something to his mother in French, Michaela gritted her teeth as she strained to catch what the Frenchman could be saying. 

“English, Pierre,” she almost begged, embarrassment written all over her face. 

Her mother and sister sensed the discomfort on the youngest Sommers’ face. Courtney, jumping up to sit on the other side of Pierre, tapped him on the shoulder. Reciprocating her energy, Pierre whispered into her ear as well. A delighted laugh left the lips of the Australian two years his senior. 

Courtney let out a more boisterous laugh in response to her younger sister’s irritation. Her amusement spurred on additional laughter from Pascale and Pierre, who were both keen on the secret. Catching her breath, Courtney couldn’t shake the smile adorning her glossed lips, the very same brand Michaela used for hers, at the newly revealed information.

“You know him?” Courtney almost exclaimed from her seat directly across from her sister. Rolling her eyes once she recognized the hidden implications of Courtney’s question, Michaela sighed against Miriam’s legs. 

“Yeah, he used to drive F3,” she muttered. Miriam began to chuckle herself, knowing her daughter’s self-imposed avoidance of romantic interaction. “Not with me, though.” The words are tacked on quietly, parroting information she learned from Antonio—Alfa Romeo’s reserve driver.

“Where did you even meet him?” Miriam questioned calmly, trying—more than could be said about the giggling pair of 20-somethings—not to set off the youngest child.

“In Abu Dhabi,” was muttering one more by the embarrassed Australian. “He was at the club I went to with Alex.” Finally catching on to the unspoken, Miriam’s words faltered in her throat until she caught Pascale’s eyes and fell into a fit of laughter herself. A short “Oh!” left her lips between her amusement, triggering a teasing snicker from Pierre.

“Did you text him back?” He spoke up from his side of the room. A glint in his eyes not unfamiliar to Michaela made her skeptical of his intentions in posing the question.

“No…” she drawled out slowly, eyes squinting at the older driver. A sudden gasp from Pascale broke their staring contest, and she excitedly spoke with a clap of her hands.

“Why not? He’s so sweet, and he’s French!” Her eyes widened cartoonishly. The blues become brighter still as she symbolically adopts a schoolgirl’s interest in Michaela’s love life.

Miriam’s amused chuckle at the added “qualification” only added to the heat Michaela couldn’t shake from her face. The embarrassment seemed to radiate off of her very being, only serving to make her increasingly wary of drawing attention from the other side of the room. 

When her mother laughed, her father noticed. It was one of the criteria a younger Courtney had added to her blue and purple ‘Cute Things Daddy Does for Mummy’ list, the same one that still hung in her childhood room. Michaela remembers the differences in their rooms, even in their childhood years. Courtney, the romantic, decorated her room head to toe with posters from her favorite movies, while Michaela, the anti-romantic, hoarded posters of her favorite circuits.

“I don’t do relationships,” Michaela spoke under her breath. Her hands found their way to her warm cheeks, wishing them to cool down before turning her attention away from the group, catching sight of her father seated with a beer in his hand, speaking animatedly—by some cruel coincidence—with Olivier.

“It’s lonely at the top,” Miriam hummed, reaching for her glass of wine. As Michaela exhaled deeply in response, Pascale echoed the statement hanging in the air. “If you’re worried about a man understanding your commitment to your career, don’t waste your time. They won’t.”

Hums of appreciation spiral through the air from the three other women in the small circle. Michaela catches Pierre’s eyes, suppressing a giggle as it rips through her. A bratty scowl rested upon his face at his mother’s words, his mind scrambling to find the right words to defend himself in an effort to prove he was exempt from her quip. 

Before he could get the words out, his mother added to her statement. A carefree, “Just find a polite one and keep him around for a good lay” leaves Pascale’s lips before the rest of them can even begin to process the thought. It is Miriam who chokes on her wine first, reaching over the center table to grasp the Frenchwoman’s hand in her own. The two parents giggle together over the idea as if a congratulations. 

Their three children look on with uncomfortable sighs, Michaela herself seemingly the most painful. Her lips curl up into a tense grimace before a deeper set of voices snaps her out of her discomfort. A low French accent hits her ears first before the others—Italian and Australian—can strike her as familiar. Her heart quickens once she lays eyes on the owner of the husky voice, his hazel eyes having yearned for hers from across the room over the last several hours. 

Ignoring Pierre's stray whistle coinciding with his mother's shushes, Michaela shakes herself from her lavender cloud. A quirk of his head towards the kitchen is all it takes to rouse her from her place on the floor. She could not bring herself to care if she were aware of the eyes tracking their movements. The husk of his scent and the drawl in his voice almost hypnotized her from the beginning.

Only vaguely aware of the sound that fails to emit from the shocked few now seated in the living room, Michaela finds comfort leaning into the countertop behind her. Olivier’s near-golden eyes sweep the length of her body, leaving her burning to feel his touch on her. It is a clear of his throat that only accelerates her misery, pulling in a breath as his hand sweeps through his dark curls. 

“So?” is what Olivier opens with. A twitch in her features draws a small chuckle out of him. “If I was that bad, you should have just told me then.” When Michaela can only furrow her eyebrows in confusion, he laughs once more. His hand lifts his beer to his lips, taking a gulp as if drawing strength from the alcohol. 

“You never called,” he almost whispers as if embarrassed. The odd tone strikes Michaela, who straightens up in anticipation of his following words. “You wanted me to call?” Her voice is just as soft as his, and her eyes struggle to look anywhere but into his. 

He waves off the question with an immediate scoff, breaking eye contact for just a moment as he carefully places his chilled beer on the counter behind him. Taking a confident step forward, a hand reaches out to her before hesitating and falling back to his side. 

Deciding to cross them, he answers her decisively, “Of course, I wanted the pretty girl to call.” It’s smooth as it rolls off his tongue, twirling with the French accent that dances through the sentence. This time, it was Michaela’s turn to break eye contact, the ‘pretty girl’ being the last thing she heard before falling back into her desperate yearning.

“Plus, I’m quite a fan of yours.” 

The sentence draws a giggle out of an embarrassed Michaela. The Australian’s heart fluttered beneath her blushing skin, leaving Olivier with practical stars in his eyes as he watched her fluster. Anyone else would find the behavior distinctly out of character for the ultra-competitive driver. Her usual gentle cockiness was replaced with an unfamiliar coyness that nearly left her paralyzed to his charms. 

Wordlessly, Michaela finds a surge of courage, tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder before taking a step forward to shorten the gap floating between the two of them. The move brings a falter to her steps as she takes in a whiff of his cologne. Expensive-smelling is what she decided the scent was. As Michaela places her out in wait, Olivier’s features twist with confusion. 

Her simple request, "Hand me your phone, I'll put my number in," shocks him immensely. 

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken promise. A scoff leaves his lips, a playful sound that betrays the spark of curiosity in his eyes. In one fluid motion, his honey-toned hand reaches into his pocket, releasing his phone from its confines and placing it in her waiting hands. Her short, manicured fingers wrap around the device, the touch sending a jolt of anticipation through him.

With an ease that hints at a confidence typically seen in her Sauber racesuits, Michaela's thumbs dance across the screen, her name and number slowly appearing on his contacts list. She adds the details with a quickness, a desire to commit to the action before her mind can intervene. 

"Okay?" 

The question is a challenge, her voice laced with a vulnerability that dares him to reject her. Her lips quirk upwards, a gentle smile that contrasts with the doe eyes locked on his, pleading for approval.

"Perfect." 

The affirmation falls from the Frenchman's lips, the single word a decisive praise that sparks a giggle from Michaela. A uncharacteristically delicate hand rises to cover the lower half of her face, as if willing herself to hide her reaction. The sound is melodic, a sweet note that hangs in the air between them.

The room around them fades into the background, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses receding until all that remains is the crackle of tension between their bodies. It is Olivier who bridges the nearly nonexistent gap, his movements an act of casual seduction. A hand snakes down to rest on the curve of her lower back, the touch sending a shiver down her spine. His fingers draw loose circles into the material of her shirt, the caress featherlight yet full of intent.

As if drawn by an unseen force, Michaela's hands find their way up the length of his firm torso, coming to rest on the broad expanse of his shoulders. The contact burns unexpectedly, the heat of his skin seeping into hers. The air between them thickens, heavy with the weight of unspoken promises. His breath intermingles with hers, a mix of anticipation and desire. 

"Promise you'll answer?" 

The question is a whispered desperation, a plea for reassurance.

Words become useless as her lips find his, the contact a jolt of electricity that sears through them. The 'yes' is unspoken, conveyed in the press of her mouth and in the sweep of her tongue. She pulls away before he can fully process the sensation, leaving him longing, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic motion. A soft "I promise" is her parting gift, the honeyed words hanging in the air like a promise of more to come.

With a grace that contradicts the turmoil bubbling inside her, Michaela leaves the kitchen, her steps a slow withdrawal back into the familiar safety of the living room. He remains still, his phone still clutched in his hand, her number and name staring back at him. A challenge and invitation consuming him totally.

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

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[heathermehf]

Strength & Stretch [Video]

[doodle-pops]

Fantasise

Lords of Gondolin x reader

Request: Ok this is gonna sound crazy but…Consensual free-use kink fic where all the lords of Gondolin (that you write for) get to use Reader for one day however they please? She’s just going about her business that one day and they each get to take her aside or to their office to fuck her however they want? (Or idk maybe this has to be a week instead of a day to fit all the fucking idk. I’m not sure how you’d wanna pace this so I leave exact timing up to you.) - Anon

A/N: Thrilled to finally post this fic after staring at it for months and counting down the days. My first time posting something so daring in smut (for me), and I hope you all enjoy it!!

Warnings: female reader, smut, double penetration, gangbang, threesome, foursome, semi-public sex because it’s in a bathhouse, handjobs, blowjobs, rough sex, anal sex, manhandling, creampies, cunnilingus, fingering, aftercare

Words: 4.8k

Synopsis: At some point, all fantasies become a reality, especially those that involve assisting your fellow Lords in special ways when stressed.

“Oh God! Just like that…” you squealed as you fought to find the right words or sound to emit when a new wave of pleasure rocked your world as both Lord Galdor and Lord Rog synchronically thrust into you leaving you gasping for air and squeezing the young Prince Maeglin’s member too tightly. He hissed and groaned at the sensation of your smaller hand gripping tighter as his senior Lords took their time to fill your holes with their well-endowed member. Within seconds, his cock was being pleasured after you managed to find your bearings, slipping his tip past your lips once more. As Galdor and Rog rocked their sweaty bodies in tune with one another, it allowed you the right rhythm to stroke and suckle the head of Maeglin’s cock.

The harmonious moans, grunts and groans of the three Lords reverberated throughout the confined room of the bathhouse. A risqué place to be engaging in such frivolities, yet it was the best option for all the Lords to gather in the same room without servants muttering about the possibilities of your rendezvous. However, at the end of the day, you weren’t complaining when you knew many others wished they could be in your position. You considered your situation a fantasy come to life, and you were about to make every second count by taking all they gave.

The marble walls of the cream-coloured room supplied your hearing with the right pitches of their sounds, while yours were muffled by the assistance of the young Prince’s member sliding further past your lips until you broke free to inhale. You preferred all your sounds to be heard by only those engaging and no trespassers or wishers.

Under you lied Rog. His massive form coveted the floor, allowing your back to comfortably rest against his defined chest while his companion, the ever so delicate Lord Galdor hovered between your legs. His gentle hands held your legs future apart, only for Rog to pull them into your chest, applying little strength to prevent you from squirming away as his robust cock slid smoothly in and out of your ass. Lord Galdor was a dear to take your cunt, enjoying the idea of sampling the cream you produced which now formed a ring at the base, and Maeglin was satisfied to be included, having plump lips wrapping around his cock.

The unmistakable sound of their cocks sliding in and out of your holes left you drunk off their cocks and ecstasy. You couldn’t believe that you were taking more than one cock and managing just fine, especially with the roughness emitting from Lord Rog’s cock rapidly plunging in and out of your ass; you never knew he had so much pent-up frustration. Regardless, you were grateful because Lord Galdor balanced everything fine with his smooth and calculated thrust, ensuring that his tip repeatedly brushed your sweet spot and made your eyes cross.

All three Lords busied themselves, utilising as much of your body as you offered them, wanting to make this moment unforgettable. It wasn’t every day their close and dear friend proposed the idea of being the relief of their stress.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, the hand of Maeglin reached out to grip your chin and tilt your head to the side to meet his onyx eyes. Silently, his other hand reached out to guide his cock back to your mouth for you to swallow—his pleasure was building rapidly with the first-time experience of your warm cavern around him so deliciously. At the same time, Galdor’s fingers travelled down your legs to pinch your clit before aggressively rubbing it and Rog’s finger fiddled with your nipples.

It triggered a series of mumbling and your toes curling in on themselves as you were forced to lie there and take it. Muffled moans and groaning as you took more of Maeglin’s cock further down your throat caused the hand in your hair to tighten its grip and push your head deeper, taking over the pace. The mixture of having all holes occupied felt great on your body, yet confusing on your mind; you didn’t know where to focus. Each delivered a different type of pleasure that was impossible to focus on individually.

“Enjoying the pleasure, love?” teased Galdor as his fingers tweaked and pinched your clit. Your response was gurgled as your head was pulled off Maeglin’s cock, allowing you to catch your breath. “Of course you are.”

“Taking us well…” grunted Rog who delivered another smack to your ass, ensuring that he left his signature in his artwork.

Gasping for air as your eyes grew teary and the fire in the pit of your stomach increased, you nodded and whined in a needy tone, making all three of them laugh. You were adorable even when you were being fucked simultaneously by three Lords. You could feel your inner walls being flipped inside-out from their wicked thrusts, tugging and rubbing along their cocks, gifting you the heightened sensation of feeling the texture and hardness. All you could muster were your constant whines as the sensation grew.

“Are you close, love?” chuckled Maeglin. His voice was closest to your ear as his lips glided along your earlobe, nibbling your skin as he went. He made sure to keep your hand wrapped around his cock to continue stroking him off, knowing that he was close to cumming a second time tonight after being inside your walls earlier. “Go ahead and cum for us another time. Make a mess for us, hmm.”

The young Prince’s constant whispering in your ear, accompanied by his lips kissing your skin, Lord Galdor’s skilled fingers and Lord Rog’s timely thrusts, pushed you a little bit over the edge.

“Oh Eru! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” Gasping for air and vibrating alongside the feeling of your skeletons rattling, your free hand reached out to dig into Galdor’s thighs viciously, causing his thrusts to falter momentarily as your umpteenth orgasm washed over you. Both males slowed their thrusts as your walls clamped and tightened around their members, leaving them groaning lowly and resisting the urge to empty themselves in you right away. Maeglin on the other hand had ended his reign as his orgasm arrived at the same time as yours, splattering his cum across your hand and chest, and moved to sit in the pool to wash off while observing.

Once they recovered, ignoring your orgasmic state, Rog’s hands cupped your breasts as his thrusts quickened while Galdor’s fingers continued rubbing your clit as if they had ever stopped. The extra sensation of your walls clamping around them and the lingering effects prompted their pace to increase. The obscene squelching and skin-slapping sound as their hips met yours echoed louder and faster. You could feel both their balls colliding with your ass, heavy and full of cum to empty. At the thought of being filled with more cum, your walls fluttered.

“Come on love, come on. Squeeze me a little tighter; I’m close,” growled Galdor as he bowed his head to witness the cream oozing out your cunt and coating his and Rog’s cock deliciously. “I wish I could frame this sight forever. Look at how well you’re taking our cocks.”

“Feels so good…please fill me up…” Whining and fluttering your walls more to clamp down on their cocks tighter to make them spill faster, your pleads were being answered by their sporadic thrusts and deep grunts.

Rog’s hands left your breasts to wrap around your thighs, allowing you to be pressed against his chest as his thrusts became rougher. His lips kissed your hair, grunting lowly into it as he fucked with more vigour coming closer to his last few strokes. By then, your ass was a lovely shade of red from the pounding, urging your teeth to chatter and eyes to roll into your head. Drool escaped your lips which Galdor was a dear to wipe away before groaning softly and his cock twitching endlessly in your cunt as it flooded your insides with another load hot load of cum.

He pushed himself all the way to the base, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in your cunt as hot ropes of his cum oozed out. Shortly after, Rog followed with a louder grunt, holding you still as he buried all of him to the hilt in your ass, emptying his load and filling you to the brim. The combined sensation of both of them filling you at the same time left you feeling satisfied. You doubt you could possibly move now that you had three loads of cum stuffed in you.

Reluctantly, Galdor was the first to pull out, leaving behind a stream of cum, followed by Rog who was busy kissing your shoulder and rubbing your ass with his calloused hands. His voice was still deep and sensual as he whispered about how good you were for letting him take your ass and relieve his stress. The other two looked on at Rog’s tenderness, smiling, before Galdor grabbed a wet cloth and moved to clean up the spilt cum dripping out. However, the sight was a beauty to their eyes, seeing you consumed by them with a mark left behind.

It wasn’t long before you were immersed in the hot water with Galdor attached to your side, washing you off while the other two Lords relaxed. His touch was gentle as he pushed your hair out of the way, or lifted your arms and parted your legs to wash the sweat off. The exchange was tranquil with the sounds of the water trickling into the pools the only sounds heard as you all cooled off. It was only a matter of time before the others showed up and had their turn.

“It would appear that the three of them are lost!” exclaimed Rog while he waded through the water to the deeper end, flashing you another view of his chiselled body. “Which is odd given their excitement to the proposal.”

“One can say so for lord Ecthelion, not the other two,” chuckled Galdor. He was entirely relaxed, his demeanour already switched from the charming devil he displayed five minutes ago.

Smiling and nodding along to the lords, Galdor brushed his fingers around your nipples, enjoying the sight of them erected from his touch having abandoned the washcloth. Listening to them discuss the turnout of events for the night should the others not show up on time, he gently guided your body to sit between his to allow his hands to cup your breasts and play with your nipples. Your body melted into his at the touch as your head rested against his shoulder. In no time, his left hand slid beneath the water to cup your cunt and slip two fingers between your folds to enter your heat.

Immediately, they curled against your sweet spot, having found it after a little searching, eliciting a faint gasp from you as your fingers curled into his thighs. Slumping against him, the moment was soothing and relaxing as he took his time to thrust his fingers in and out while the heel of his palm grazed your clit. With your eyes shut and lips slightly parted, the conversation continued without your care of whether the Lords would appear. At least you were being pleasured while relieving theirs since it was the deal made.

“Does it feel good?” His mellow voice tickled your ear compared to your ragged breathing as your pleasure grew in large increments. The aftermath of your previous orgasms left you sensitive and open for the rest to flow without resistance. Lifting a hand from his thigh to hold onto his submerged wrist, you clamped your legs around his hand, forcing it to stay there as you rocked your body in tune with his rhythm. “Are you close already, My Lady?”

Nodding with a soft, raspy whine, you bumped your head against his shoulder blades, while continuing your rocking motion. Galdor smiled down at your form unravelling in his arms from the use of his fingers alone; a bit of pride welled in his chest. Bounding his arms around your waist as he felt the tightness growing, he fastened his hold mustering a small portion of his strength as you wriggled. Steadying his pace and brushing his finger repetitively, it was easier said than done, you came apart in his arms with the release of a silent scream.

As though the timing of the situation could not get any better, the arrival of the three stooges waltz into the private section of the bathhouse, already disrobed and flaunting their majestic figures. Egalmoth was the first to enter, eyes landing on your slumped figure curled in his fellow Lord’s arms, followed by Ecthelion tailing behind Glorfindel. All three Lords strolled in with an air of confidence, ready for tonight’s frivolities.

“It appears that we arrived in the nick of time?” laughed Egalmoth as he entered the pool, his silvery hair undone and cascading his body like liquid silver.

“We assumed you all cancelled, giving us the opportunity to invest a little more,” counter Galdor with a smirk.

Clicking his tongue, Glorfindel was the one to reply as he waltzed closer to where you sat. “That does not sound like you Lord Galdor, greedy.”

“What can I say? I am a stressed Elf Lord.”

Tailing behind Glorfindel silently, Ecthelion took in your flustered appearance, melting against the Galdor’s chest. Mimicking his fellow golden-hair Lord, he squatted to brush your hair out your face with a small smile gracing his lips. Both Lord gestures prompted the brown-haired Lord to aid you to your feet and guide you through the steps they were waiting to pamper you.

Briskly, yet gingerly, you waded through the water, out of the pool and into the arms of Glorfindel who embraced you with a brilliant smile. Catching a glimpse of his and lord Ecthelion’s physique and other appreciative body parts, you were surely going to end up incapacitated tonight and you had yet to witness Lord Egalmoth. Regardless, you knew his physique was also impressive given his boastful tendencies.

You ran a finger down Glorfindel’s abdomen and outline his V-line, stopping right above his cock when you heard him hiss. The devilish grin which formed on your face only fuelled your actions when you also reached out to repeat the same on Ecthelion who stood adjacent.

“Greetings to you, My Lords. I hope your time spent in my company is pleasurable.” Falling to your knees while you looked up to witness both their brows arched and lips bitten, you cast a wink and gripped their cocks. The recognition that the others were watching was long gone from your consciousness when you had two Lords erected cocks in your face.

Stroking their lengths and listening to their moans, no time was wasted as you leaned forward to capture the tip of Ecthelion’s cock in your mouth, sucking the tip before pushing your head deeper. His hands immediately flew to your head, fingered entangling in your hair and guiding you along his length as choruses of moans escaped his lips. Bobbing your head along his length as best as you could, pulled away and switched to Glorfindel’s cock, though, he was much more challenging to take like Rog’s. Getting him past your lips was easy, but fitting the rest in your mouth, your hand had to cover.

Though, to Glorfindel, he enjoyed the sight of your mouth wrapped around his cock with a bit of struggle, and similar to Ecthelion, his fingers wove into your hair and did their best to move your head along his girthy length. As difficult as it was at first, you were able to take more of him and soon, you were switching between both cocks, lavishing them with your mouth and hands. Bobbing your head as you altered between different cocks, both Lords stood with their abdomen clenched and hands in your head, relishing in the heavenly abode of your mouth.

“I would not mind being treated like this every time I am stressed,” groaned Glorfindel as you placed kisses along his length, from the base to tip. “Fuck, just like that, sweetheart—you’re doing so well.”

“Is there room for me to be included because I feel left out?” The approaching footsteps of Egalmoth padded lightly from behind as he observed you caring for his friends while he stood with a painfully erected cock, leaking precum.

Opening his eyes at the intrusion of his moment, Ecthelion grumbled a curt, “Wait your turn.”

Laughing at the response after discussing all that they would do together with you, Egalmoth sauntered over and fell to his knees. There, amongst your ministrations with his fellow companions, his lips fell upon your skin. At first, his kisses and bites were affectionate, filled with a touch of playfulness while his hands roamed your front, fingers dancing dangerously close to your mound, and parting your hair to run his fingers along your lips. But easily his kisses grew hungry, and lust filled as he grazed his teeth against your skin while he ground his hips into your ass once a finger slipped between your fold to dance with your clit.

You partially froze with Glorfindel’s tip in your mouth, tongue swirling around the head, prompting him to jerk. Egalmoth took this as a sign to proceed and travel his finger further south where he came to your sensitive entrance and unmistakeably sunk two fingers inside, crossing them and aiming for your soft spot. Grounding his cock against your ass while matching the rhythm to the thrusting of fingers left you breathless on both Lord’s cocks. Your grip tightened every few seconds, prompting impatient hisses to be emitted from their lips.

Very soon, Egalmoth’s lips began to descend down your back, his free hand sweeping your hair out the way as he made a line all the way to your ass, not without biting a cheek.

“Are you serious?” you muttered with laughter in your tone.

A casual shrug before he parted your legs, fingers still embedded in your cunt, he grinned. “Couldn’t resist something so plump and juicy,” he laughed. “Why don’t we shift towards the bench; it’s more comfortable.”

The other two, frozen in their plethora of pleasure, were abruptly brought out of their revere and nodded along, not wanting to waste a second more when their pleasure was so high.

Within a matter of seconds, you found yourself being arranged into a familiar position you were folded into, moments ago. Back pressing against Glorfindel’s chest and legs crooked and pressing into your sides, Egalmoth knelt between them with his large warrior hands gripping the back of your thighs with his control slipping away inch by inch. To your right, you were met with Ecthelion’s elegant yet, angry erection contorting towards your face to be put out of misery. Inhaling deeply through your mouth, you bit your lips when Glorfindel’s cock head rubbed against your rear entrance before he gently pressed and inched himself in slowly.

“Shit,” you groaned as his cock slid in, thicker and heavier than most, making your eye droop.

Your entire body moved as he sharply inhaled at your tightness, wondering if the others had even dared to enter. Immediately, his hands found purchase on your breasts, his calloused texture, rough against your skin, provided the right amount of pleasure to your sensitivity. Once his cock was embedded and his feet were planted into the floor, Egalmoth descended, without a minute to spare, on your cunt, his mouth covering the entire to give you long lavish licks, making your toes curl and eyes cross. “Hmm, fuck you taste sweet,” came the muffled voice of Egalmoth as he wasted no time dragging his tongue through your folds. Not one for being left behind, Ecthelion soon followed with a firm grip on your jaw as he tapped the head of his cock against your lips for you to take him into your warm, wet cavern.

Feeling a greater pressure already welling up inside your lower abdomen from the steady mixture of Glorfindel’s thick cock thrusting deeper and Egalmoth’s tongue flicking your clit, you were well on your way to an early release. All your emitted sounds were being choked on Ecthelion’s cock plunging in and out your mouth. You could barely keep up with your tongue’s ability to run along his length as he controlled the pacing, leaving you gurgling and moaning in muffles.

“Such a good girl, love,” whispered Glorfindel as he spoke with a deep guttural. “You’re taking me so well.”

As you were being used for your purpose, your previous onlookers smiled and gleamed with desire still swimming in their eyes as they marvelled at the sight. Glorfindel’s and Ecthelion’s cocks worked in sync, thrusting with a rhythm alongside Egalmoth skilful tongue on your clit, to leave you trembling, unable to catch your breath. The slick sounds of wet skin against each other, accompanies by the sweet, lustful moans of the Lords made your pussy clench and leak more arousal for Egalmoth to swallow up. What he missed, covered Glorfindel’s cock to aid with deeper penetration.

Pulling Ecthelion’s cock out your mouth and wrapping your hand around his length. You sucked in a struggled, deep breath. “Sl–…ow down…too deep…” you breathlessly stuttered out as they were getting deeper and rougher with their actions. “Hmph! Shit!”

From beneath you, Glorfindel laughed and dragged his hands off your breasts to cup your ass and drive himself deeper, increasing the sounds of his heavy balls slapping your ass. On the other end, Ecthelion rolled his eyes and slapped your hand off his cock before directing himself back into your wet cavern.

For every penetration of Ecthelion’s cock, you felt every ridge and vein along his cock, tasting the semi-sweetness of his precum on your tongue, Glorfindel’s cock slid out slowly until the tip was all that was left in. For each thrust, there was a faint stinging sensation left on your ass from his powerful hips. Whereas Egalmoth refused to be a tease at this moment and sunk his fingers—three—into your slick entrance, ensuring that all your holes were occupied with something enjoyable. The combined act of both fingers and tongue fuelled the burn in your abdomen and the pulsation in your pussy like a small, violent heartbeat. You swore that you were straight up losing your mind the more they continued.

It was difficult to keep up with the wickedness of Egalmoth’s mouth on your pussy, licking and sucking as if there was some liquid gold running out. The lewd sounds of his mouth and fingers in contact with your slickness, caused a few of the onlookers to grin as they remembered your taste moments ago. In the back of your mind, you could make out the faint exchange of laughter they released as you shut your eyes and clenched your muscles around Egalmoth’s finger and Glorfindel’s cock as your umpteenth orgasm washed over. Ecthelion was the one to slip his cock out your mouth to give you a moment to breathe when Egalmoth waved him over to switch positions.

Immediately Ecthelion slipped his cock into your heat, swearing and shutting his eyes at how wet and warm you were. He knew in a matter of seconds he was about to combust; at least he needed to enjoy a minute or two. Wasting no time and not caring about build-up or matching Glorfindel’s pace, he inserted himself and started pounding away, gripping your thighs with more venom to ensure that you were filled to the brim. The weight of his cock, less than Glorfindel’s, still carried an unforgettable signature that left your toes curling as he fucked you into sensitivity while rubbing your clit.

“Gods you feel too good,” he groaned. “You’re going to make me finish early.”

Chuckling, Egalmoth had stepped aside, wanting to have you all to himself once they were over. He moved over to sit at the edge of the pool as Ecthelion and Glorfindel went to work, increasing their pace to drill into you harder. Your sweet cries turned into hiccups as you struggled to take the brutal pounding from both noble warriors.

“Oh fuck!” you whined, dragging your sound and turning it into a squeal when one of Glorfindel’s hands reached down to rub your clit, joining his friend. Your eyes were half-closed as they were a mixture of crossing and rolling into your head. “Nghh! God I close.”

Grinning triumphantly from under you, the golden-haired Lord’s lips ran across your shoulder, kissing and biting, whispering filth into your ears to drive you over the edge. For each word that left his lips, they both felt how you contracted around them and sucked them in further with absolute want. Needing them to drive themselves in further and deeper until they painted your insides white. Your desire for wanting to milk them dry as they melted within your soft walls, enjoying the lavish massaging in return for their cocks rubbing you just right, caused Glorfindel to spiral first.

His hips stuttered as his moans turned into grunts, and his fingers never ceased rubbing your clit as he gave one last hard thrust and pushed his cock to the hilt as he emptied himself, basking in the clenching of your muscles squeezing him. Ecthelion was one to follow shortly after with the swelling of his cock being felt by you before painting your insides white as well. Both their melodic panting, echoing in your ear was stirring your insides all over again as if to have another round. And, as if they were able to sense your thoughts, Ecthelion smiled and shook his head while Glorfindel chuckled. Furthermore, the sight of your cunt stained with cum was tempting to overstay and release another load.

Fighting the urge to stay a while longer in your warmth, he was the first to gently pull out and release your legs from his deadly grip, giving apologetic squeezes to them.

“So sorry, darling. Do forgive me,” Ecthelion sweetly apologised as he bent down to kiss your thighs. “But let’s get you cleaned up.”

Tiredly murmuring something unrecognisable, he brought you to your feet, leading you to wince at the sensation of their cum trickling out and down your thighs. However, Glorfindel was sad to let you go already, but he knew before the night was over, he’d have you again. As you stood, Glorfindel couldn’t resist outstretching his hands to give each of your ass cheeks a quick squeeze. Your head swivelled around to stare at him questioningly. In return, he offered a boyish grin. “I can’t resist it.”

Now on your feet, you melted into Thel’s embrace as he brushed your hair out of your sweaty face before whisking you over to the pool to immerse your body in the hot water. And like a magnet, Egalmoth found his way to your side and pulled you against his chest. “They were quite rough on you, sweetness,” he apologetically whispered into your shoulder as he kissed it. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you later.”

His words earned an eye roll from all the other Lords who either scoffed or slapped water at him.

Eventually, with all the Lords finally present in the pool with you, washing themselves off and discussing their daily gossip, you relaxed. The night was still young with many hours to go before everyone agreed that their fills were satisfied, and you were officially aware of how hungry each of them was. Thankfully with their caring nature and focus on aftercare, you were more than able to take them all over again…a few more times.

Feeling the wet sponge being dragged over your shoulders as Egalmoth continued to wash off the sweat, you closed your eyes and melted into his chest. “I don’t mind doing this more often once I get good aftercare.”

Growing content at your words, he leaned in and kissed your neck. “I’m glad that you are enjoying yourself,” he murmured while his other hand snaked around your waist to pull you onto his lap. The minute you sat on his lap, you felt his erection pressing against your back. “But I wouldn’t mind being a bit sneaky and having more of you right now. What do you say, pretty girl?”

“I would be a fool to decline,” you giggled as you shifted and eased yourself on his cock as he delicately slipped himself in, both doing your best to not make a sound as the others laughed.

“Now let’s see how well you can keep quiet…”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @aconstructofamind @involuntaryspasms @addaigio @mcwentfandomtraveling @elficially-done-with-life @eunoiaastralwings @zheiya

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[doumadono]

Hii I saw that you do emergency fics, and they're very awesome, so is it okay if I send one too? It's been quite stressful with senior year of high school, entrance coaching and the pressure from myself and my family, and the stress gets so bad to the point of migraines (which I always complain about) so I wanted to request a Bakugou comfort fic for the stress?

Sparks of solace - Bakugo x Reader

A/N: I'm really sorry to hear that you're under so much pressure right now. It sounds incredibly tough, but remember, it’s okay to take a moment for yourself when things get overwhelming. You're doing an amazing job juggling everything. Hang in there, and be sure to care for yourself too. You've got this!

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

The final bell at U.A. High School didn't so much signal the end of the day as it did the start of another battle for you.

As the other students streamed out the door, eager to shed the weight of their responsibilities, you remained seated, your head cradled in your arms against the cool surface of the desk. The familiar ache of a migraine pulsed behind your eyes, exacerbated by the relentless pressure of senior year, entrance exams, and the towering expectations from both yourself and your family.

The classroom door banged open with a force that only one person in the school could muster.

Heavy footsteps echoed across the room, coming to a halt beside you. “Still here? You planning to move in or what?” The voice was unmistakably Bakugo Katsuki's — abrasive, impatient, and impossible to ignore.

You lifted your head just enough to give him a weary look. “Just trying to make it through the day, Bakugo.”

“Tch, you’re letting that crap knock you down? Seriously?” Bakugo scoffed as he dragged a chair beside you, the metal legs screeching against the floor. His approach was neither gentle nor tiptoeing around sensitivities. “You’re tougher than this, aren’t you? Migraines again?”

“Yeah, and everything else. It’s all too much sometimes,” you admitted, hoping he’d tire of your company and leave you to wallow in your misery.

Instead, Bakugo huffed, his brow furrowing. “That’s because you’re letting it pile up until it crushes you. You’re stronger than this crap, you know.”

His attempt at encouragement was as subtle as a sledgehammer, yet it held an undertone of genuine concern. Bakugo wasn’t known for his soft side, but his presence, strangely, was somewhat comforting. His attempt at motivation might have been wrapped in layers of impatience, but Bakugo had chosen to stay, a fact that carried its own form of comfort.

“So, genius, got any better ideas?” you challenged, your voice tinged with both sarcasm and a hint of curiosity.

“Obviously.” He stood abruptly, grabbing your arm to pull you to your feet. “Get up. We’re going out.”

“Out? Out where?” You stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his sudden decisiveness.

“Somewhere that isn’t here, dumbass. You need a break, and I’m not watching you turn into a complete wreck. We're going out to get some damn fresh air. And ice cream. It helps, believe it or not,” Katsuki declared, leading the way with a certainty that left no room for argument.

The streets of the city buzzed with life around you, a stark contrast to the stillness of the classroom.

Bakugo’s confident stride was uncompromising as he led you to a small, local ice cream shop. The choice was yours, and you opted for something simple, while he chose a fiery flavor with spicy chocolate chips.

“Sit,” Bakugo commanded, pointing to a bench. He plopped down beside you, arms crossed, watching the sunset with a grunt. “Look, I get it. It’s tough. But you’re not doing yourself any favors by pushing too hard. Learn to recognize when you’re at your limit. Being strong isn’t just about pushing through the crap. It’s knowing when to take a damn break so you can fight another day. That’s what real strength is.”

Your eyes drifted from his face to the horizon, where the sky was painted in strokes of orange and purple. “I didn’t expect to hear a pep talk from you, of all people.”

“Tch, it’s not a pep talk. It’s common sense,” he muttered, though the harshness in his voice had lessened. “I deal with the same crap. But I figured out that sometimes you just need to explode a little less… and breathe a little more. I’m just making sure you don’t fall apart. Someone has to.”

You chuckled softly, the tension easing from your shoulders. “Explode a little less, huh? I’ll try to keep that in mind, boss.”

Bakugo’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Yeah, well… just don’t forget it. And if you need to — whatever, just come find me or something. I’m not gonna let you crash and burn over something stupid like stress.”

The simplicity of his declaration, the gruff concern laced through his words, struck a chord within you. Here was Bakugo Katsuki, known for his fiery temper and relentless ambition, offering a lifeline.

“Thanks, Kats. I mean it,” you said, turning to meet his gaze.

He shrugged, his eyes softening just a little as he looked away. “Whatever. Just don’t make me regret this.”

[billybob598]

No Idea Who They're Dealing With (Trinity Rodman x Reader)

Ummm, it's like 1am and I just banged out like 2k words?!?!? This was requested by a lovely anon (hope this is kinda what you wanted). I'm gonna go have a nighttime snack real quick so, byeeee. As always, any feedback good or bad welcome. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2k (actually it's like 1987 but that's basically 2k so fuck it)

You hated Trinity Rodman. With a passion. She was always getting the best of you, no matter how hard you tried she always seemed to be one step ahead. The rivalry between the two of you went back to your U-18 days. You played for Canada during the U-18 World Cup, in that tournament you had really shone, putting yourself at the top of the list for up-and-coming Canadian soccer players. While you had done well, Trinity had done even better. You never played against the USA in that tournament, but she beat you out for the Golden Boot and the Player of the Tournament award. 

The next time your rivalry was rekindled was in the U-20 CONCACAF Championships. Both Canada and the US came top of their groups, respectively. In the semi-finals, the two teams faced off. It was a pretty physical game. Tackles were flying in left and right. Numerous cards were given out. Throughout the match, you and Trinity had been at each other’s throats. It started with just some shoving. Then, it escalated to pulling on each other’s jerseys. The tackles kept getting dirtier and dirtier. It didn’t help that Canada was 2-0 down. At one point, you were both going for the ball, you thought you had definitely beat her to it when you felt a cleat connect with your ankle. You screamed out. Toppling to the ground while clutching your ankle, you knew it was bad. Like, tournament ending bad. With your face buried in the grass, you can hear loud voices, presumably your teammates who had come to defend you. The whistle was being repeatedly blown, but all you could focus on was the immense pain shooting through your leg. 

Trinity was horrified. She hadn’t meant for that to happen. Of course, she was getting frustrated with the physical battle between you. But she really hadn’t meant to hurt you. She had never seen you in so much pain. Your reputation preceded you, everyone knew that you were tough and that if you went down something must be seriously wrong. A number of your teammates came to your aid. They shoved Trinity and got all up in her face. She tuned all of them out, though, preferring to watch the trainers as they started feeling your ankle. When you were on your feet and limping off the field, she wanted to go over and apologize, but one of her teammates dragged her away before she could. 

You had ruptured your Achilles tendon. It took almost six months before you stepped on a soccer pitch again. While Trinity was off becoming a star in the NWSL, you were sitting in physio, fuming. It was mentally and physically exhausting to return to full strength. And when you finally returned you tore it up. At UCLA you established yourself as one of the best players in college soccer. Bev Priestmann was impressed enough to give you a call-up for your first-ever senior national team camp in 2021.

Now, heading into the 2023 SheBelieves Cup you’ve become a regular on the national team. You had played against Trinity a couple of times, but you had tried your best to just ignore her presence altogether. It most certainly confused Trinity. She thought you would be pissed at her and that you would hold a grudge forever. You hadn’t. Actually, it was like Trinity didn’t even exist anymore in your world. Within the Canada camp, there was a lot of things going on. The players, yourself included, were in a dispute with Canada Soccer. Everyone had decided to wear their practice shirts inside out to protest, among other things. Heading into the opening match against the USA, the battle between players and federation was anyone was talking about. Janine and Christine had done an interview with TSN, you hadn’t even spoken publicly about the job action, other than putting the players’ statement on your Instagram. Yet, you were on the receiving end of all the blame coming from Canada Soccer. There had been multiple interviews and statements by Canada Soccer officials and they all stuck to the same narrative, your arrival in the past year or two had changed the mindset within the team. You were the root of this. If it had not been for you, everyone would have been happy still, and the team would not be asking for something that was impossible. You chose to handle this with class, not wanting to stir the pot anymore, you did not respond to those comments. 

The USA had watched all of this happen in complete shock. First of all, the fact that a job action had to be put in motion in the first place. Considering you guys were Olympic champions everyone thought you would have earned a little more respect from your federation. Second, you specifically were enduring most of the public bashing. It was absolutely insane for Canada Soccer to put this all on one player, especially you. This entire fiasco made Trinity’s blood boil. No way they thought they could actually get away with blaming you. When asked by the Canadian team if they would join in making a pre-match protest, they of course agreed.

Soon enough, the two teams were standing in the tunnel, preparing to step out on the pitch. There had been a few hugs given out among the different players. Rapinoe had said some encouraging words to you as she passed by. You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear them until you started to tear up. As the US lines up alongside you, you try your best to not let anyone see the emotion overcoming you. All of a sudden, you feel a hand land on your shoulder. Looking over, you’re surprised to see Trinity Rodman giving you a warm smile.

“Hey, you’re doing a really good job, don’t let them get to you,” Trinity says softly to you. You wipe at your eyes before mumbling out a quick “thanks.” She removes her hand and you immediately miss the contact. Before you can say anything more to her, the refs have started to move forward, with the teams following close behind. The cameras start to click rapidly as Canada’s national team appears wearing the purple “Enough is Enough” shirts. After the anthems, the two teams form a heart around the centre circle. You end up standing beside Trinity. The taller woman’s hand lands on the small of your back, sending shivers up your spine. She notices this and smirks at you. 

That entire game, Canada looks flat. You guys looked like a team that was mentally exhausted, which you were. It was only through pure determination that you were able to put your name on the score sheet. The game finished as a 2-1 US win, it probably should have been more.

When the game ends, you and the rest of the team refuse to do any media and head straight back to the locker rooms. Trinity ends up at the ESPN panel, standing alongside a man she doesn’t recognize and the hosts. It’s only when the hosts introduce the man as the Vice President of Canada Soccer that she realizes what’s going to happen. This was definitely set up by Canada Soccer to continue putting down the players. The hosts ask Trinity a few questions about the match before they address the elephant in the room. For a bit, Trinity thinks that maybe she was wrong. Maybe the vice president wasn’t here to blame the players, maybe he was just here to try to appease the public or something. He wasn’t saying anything too controversial, mostly trying his best to deflect, saying he can’t comment and things like that. For a few minutes, everything is going okay. Until it isn’t.

“Obviously, we only want our women’s teams to thrive. They have shown just how world-class they can be playing against some tough opponents. We just think that some of the demands they’re making are unreasonable. It’s possible that Y/N Y/L/N has gotten some far-reaching goals inside of her teammate's heads. Before, the team was making reasonable demands and we were happy to negotiate with them,” the vice president says with such contempt that Trinity doesn’t know how such an asshole can be elected for anything. 

“Interesting…” ESPN’s host slowly starts to say before Trinity jumps in.

“Or maybe, you guys have just been taking the entire team for push-overs and they, including Y/N, have finally realized their worth. That they are deserving of more than just whatever you have left in the bank account. Also, if you’re going to start publicly bashing Y/N, then you better know that she’s not going to back down without a fight and that she is going to come at you guys with everything she has. You have no fucking idea who you’re dealing with.”

This leaves everyone on the panel in a little bit of shock. Trinity decides that she doesn’t feel like being interviewed anymore. She gives the mic back and then walks off, not having the slightest clue about why she did that. As she gets closer to the US locker room, she stops in her tracks when she hears a voice.

“What the hell did you do that for?” She takes a deep breath before turning around to be met with your beautiful face.

“Uhh, I don’t know,” she stutters out.

“Trinity, you just blew up at a Canada Soccer official and swore on national television. You must know why.” There’s something about how her name sounds coming off your tongue that drives Trinity crazy. 

“Y/N…” she starts as she takes a step towards you. You can feel a blush creeping up your neck as the space between the two of you closes.

“Yeah?” Your voice comes out small and it only encourages Trinity. She takes another step closer, at this point you’re chests are close to touching. Trinity is looking down at you with a smirk that makes your knees weak. It doesn’t help that she’s got probably five inches on you so, you feel incredibly small this close to her.

“I’ve never really hated you, y’know?” Her voice is so smooth, it makes your stomach do flips.

“Oh yeah?” You say not daring to take your eyes off of hers. She starts to lean in slowly. 

“Yeah,” she whispers against your lips before connecting them. Her hands go to your waist, pulling you as close as possible to her. Your fingers find their way into her hair, giving it a light tug. Her lips were like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. They were soft and perfect and moved perfectly against yours. You couldn’t believe what was happening, not too long ago you swore you hated her, but now, she was too good of a kisser to even think about hating her. Soon, you both pull away. She leans her forehead against yours.

“When do you guys leave for the next game?” The American asks quietly.

“I think two days from now,” you reply, “why?”

“Do you want to go on a date with me, say tomorrow?” You can’t help the grin that takes over your face.

“Thought you’d never ask.” You kiss her one last time before entangling your fingers with hers. “I’m not sure you have any idea who you’re dealing with, though,” you joke. Trinity just laughs.

“Trust me, I know exactly who I’m dealing with,” she says with a chuckle. You smile one last time at her before moving to head back to your own locker room. But, she pulls you back and presses a firm kiss on your forehead, then she decides you are free to go. 

When you were named to the World Cup roster, the first person you called was your girlfriend.

“The world has no idea who they’re dealing with, babe.”

[queer-cosette]

so um you guys have probably seen me posting about how I'm dating this guy (AKA insane bisexual guy with visible psychological trauma AKA Mr No Name Kid <3) and well. I need you guys to understand why I like him so much

he makes me laugh literally so much

I've mentioned this but. he will literally lift me off the ground when he hugs me even though I'm 5'11 and 132lbs

he thinks it's sexy that I like to wear heels even though they make me taller than him

he's literally never got my pronouns wrong which seems like a low bar but I'm a they/them who presents usually very femme so a lot of people will still call me she/her even if I've introduced myself as a they/them

if anyone says something transphobic in front of him he will throw down. one time outside a bar a guy kept making the same bad "oh if a boy can identify as a girl then I'm gonna identify as an attack helicopter" joke and my guy literally turned to him and said "shut the fuck up or I'm gonna start identifying as a threat"

he looks a bit intimidating because he's 6'2 and covered in tattoos but literally half of them are fandom-themed, mostly DC, Marvel, and anime

one time while we were both very drunk he went to grab my waist and accidentally grabbed my ass instead because I was taller than he was expecting. he didn't realise until I told him like a month later and he was so mortified that he literally turned and pressed his forehead into the couch for five solid minutes.

I've mentioned this too but we were walking home from a bar and my cigarette went out so he?? relit it?? with the tip of his??

he thinks it's hot that I'm a ballerina not because it's feminine and graceful or w/ever but because it's given me the leg strength to kick pretty much anyone's ass

he paints his nails and has his ears pierced

we knew each other in high school. specifically we knew each other in our senior year at which point I was a little shit who was 90% anger issues and nearly constantly too high to tie my own shoelaces, and yet??? he likes me anyway???

style-wise we're both very alt, I'm going through a kind of 1980s dark-academia phase and he's got a sort of gothic cyberpunk thing going on. I like that he actually thinks about his clothes instead of just chucking on whatever

he has a cat and she has very bad anxiety issues around anyone who isn't him so he just lets her hide whenever he has guests over <3 I'm pretty sure it's a massive green flag when people treat their pets with respect <3

have I mentioned that he makes me laugh a lot?? because he makes me laugh a LOT

[steveshairychest]

Steve gets invited to some party in his senior year and the place is filled with people he doesn't know, but at that point, he's too drunk to care. He's taking shots with people he didn't even know went to his school and then somehow he ends up in the kitchen doing body shots off the most gorgeous girl he's ever seen. Her hair is curly and spilling out around her on the kitchen island and she keeps running her long fingers through Steve's hair when he bends down to take a shot off her stomach. He practically shivers when she sits up on the island and slurs in a husky voice, "You did so well, Steve."

Except, it's not a girl, but Steve is too drunk and too fascinated by the pretty 'girl' with long legs and pouty lips to realise. Poor Eddie is high out of his mind and summoning the strength of every god he knows to keep himself from playing along and just kissing Steve; the guy he's had the most pathetic crush on for years. When Steve asks for his number, he thinks fuck it and scribbles it on the back of Steve's hand in sharpie. He can't wait to hear Steve's reaction when he realises he'd been hitting on the guy he buys weed off of.