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gracieheartspedro · 3 months

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More Than Friends

how to help the Palestinian people

pairing: best friend!ellie williams x fem!reader (set in the jackson era)

description: you and ellie have been friends for awhile. while at a party for tommy’s birthday, you try to catch the attention of your crushes. sadly, they are all over each other. in a childish effort to get them to pay attention, you two try to make them jealous. 'cause that always ends the way you think, right?

word count: 3.3k words

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, smut, wlw, f!receiving oral (reader), fingering, jealousy, semi-public sex, dirty talk, tons of nicknames, no mentions of reader's appearance. talks of sexuality, but it's vague. reader wants to fuck whoever, it doesn't matter lol. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: I wrote this after watching one too many ellie edits on tik tok. it was written in two hours, so it's not my finest work but it scratched my little ellie itch. okay, much love xoxoxoxxo

“So… you really like Dina, huh?”

Her face twists immediately at the question. She throws herself back in the wooden chair, cursing under her breath. Her arms cross over her chest, her t-shirt riding up a bit above her jeans.

You saw the way Ellie looked at Dina. She looks at her like she hung the moon. She was always fumbling over her words around her, nervous to say the wrong thing. When she did try to flirt, it came up awkward and strained. And you understood her predicament because you were the same way about Jesse.

You both were pining after two people in a committed relationship.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” She mumbles, gesturing towards the center of the room where Dina and Jesse slow danced. He was leaning down to whisper something in her ear and it made your stomach flip. “She would never go for me.”

You felt bad for Ellie. She was everything you wished you were yourself; beautiful and funny. You felt like you were the only one, besides the Millers, who got her dry humor. You two had met in class about two years ago, now. You were a newcomer to Jackson, arriving about two months prior with your mom. When you got seated next to Ellie, you could tell her give-no-fucks attitude would mesh well with your give-too-many-fucks attitude. Over the years, you two had really rubbed off one another. You two were inseparable.

“You’re the whole package, Els,” You say before nudging her shoulder with your elbow. You two are moping at a table near the exit of the food hall. It was Tommy’s birthday celebration, so everyone in Jackson got together to plan a big bash for him. Ellie felt obligated to come and your mom was pretty close to Maria. More time spent with your best friend wasn’t time wasted, so here you are.

“At least she shows you the time of day,” You say under your breath.

Jesse had been pretty flippant with you. He could never remember your name, let alone that you two shared the same street in Jackson. You also once shared a table at the mess hall. He was so tall and strong. Your crush on him was more physical than it was emotional. He was funny, sure, but you mainly just wanted to get him alone.

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” She ponders, finally looking away from the canoodling couple across the room, “We could do so much better!”

You know she’s just trying to convince herself of something she doesn’t really believe. The tone of her voice changes when she’s lying.

“Like who? Slim pickin’s out here, Ellie. We have them and maybe 4 other undesirable people. There’s always the butcher’s son, he always had eyes for you.”

She grabs her cup from the table in front of you, “Yeah, men are… not my type.”

You turn your body so your legs are nudging her thighs, “Then, you really don’t have any choices.”

She nods her lips in a thin line. “I wish I could just.. Just go up there and talk to her. Ya know?”

“Why can’t you?”

“The same reason you can’t just go up and talk to Jesse.”

You roll your eyes, leaning forward on your knees. Your body is practically in her bubble, but she just sits back with her arm over the back of your chair.

You and Ellie had no real boundaries. You had no qualms about physical touch and Ellie never said anything or seemed to mind. You two have shared a horse countless times and even a bed. She never steered away from you.

“Well, Dina will talk to you if she sees other girls talking to you,” you state, reflecting on the last time everyone in Jackson got together. Some random girl came up to you two and as soon as Dina saw Ellie laughing with the other girl, she scrambled across the room to see what the fuss was about. You saw the same glint in her eyes that Ellie had.

For some reason, it made you kind of jealous.

You never tried to explore those knee-jerk emotions you had for Ellie. She was your best friend and you were positive she never felt romantic feelings towards you. Plus, you weren’t sure of your feelings about your sexuality. You always told Ellie you just liked who you liked, not really putting any importance on what was between their legs. You weren’t very experienced, but you had hooked up with both genders and liked it all equally.

“That was a coincidence, bug.”

That stupid nickname that she called you. Born from the one time you practically attracted every infected in the area with your scream over a huge beetle. She could not let it go and ended up calling you bug, just to annoy you.

You finally look up at her freckled face, waiting for her to crack a smile. When you squint at her with contempt, she smirks.

“Why don’t we find another girl and test the theory?”

She glances around the populated party, “Everyone here is over the age of 40.”

You turn back to the crowd of people around you and see that she’s right.

You mull it over, your brain working to find a way that you both could get their attention. You two could simply say fuck it and go watch a movie and forget this stupid encounter happened. Joel would probably chew Ellie out, but when doesn’t he do that?

Your next idea is something dangerous but something you had thought about before. You had never brought up the idea to Ellie because you were afraid of her reaction.

“What’s your idea?”

She could read you like a book. You pursed your lips, wondering if you should even propose the idea to her.

“How desperate are you?”

She laughs out loud, completely taken aback by the query. “Jesus, what are you thinkin’?”

You lick your lips, trying to make sure the idea comes out as a whisper.

“Why don’t we make them jealous? Just you and me?”

“How though?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Well, I’m a girl.”

You glance back at where Dina and Jesse were just dancing. They are both now facing you two’s direction, Jesse engrossed in a conversation with Tommy. Dina is just sipping from her glass, not really staring anywhere specific.

You look back at Ellie who’s also looking at her, but meets your eyes when your face gets closer to hers.

You would tell her how beautiful she was all the time and she just would roll her eyes and change the subject. You were physically attracted to her and there had been a couple of times you had thought about kissing her and wondered what her lips would feel like against yours.

But she was your best friend.

“Wrap your arm over my back,” You are still positioned, your elbows on your knees, your knees facing her thighs, “And rub it.”

She furrows her eyebrows, but she submits and brings the arm that is slouched over the chair to your lower back. You nod, watching as her lids lower. Her hand creeps up and down your side, her fingers grazing your ribs, up to your side boob. “Now what, bug?”

“Now, slowly move your hand up my back,” She does it as you’re speaking and the movement makes the hairs on your arms stand up, “Grab the nape of my neck.”

“Why are you making me do this?”

You lift up off your hands, bringing your face closer to hers. She doesn’t budge, sitting still and only focused on you and your words.

“Because,” Her hand grabs the back of your neck, before slowly bringing it forward to collar bone. The gentleness of her touch and the fact that it’s your Ellie, makes every sense heightened. You don’t even realize how her touch is making you feel until you see her crack a smile.

“Because why?” She whispers, her voice teasing.

“Cause I want them to see you touch me.”

It comes out needy and desperate. Her eyes change when it slips from your lips, instead of being playful, she’s looking at you like you’re her next meal. She leans forward, her face millimeters from yours.

You had never talked to Ellie like this but at this moment, you were completely transfixed on her. She was wearing a flannel over her shoulders covering her usual gray t-shirt. The sleeves were rolled up exposing the tattoo Cat did on her a year ago.

You always thought it was hot, the way it trailed up her arm from her delicate wrist.

Her jeans are ripped and her legs and man-spreaded like she was carrying something in her jeans.

And she smelled like pine. You loved it when you got the privilege to sleep next to her because her linens always smelled like her. You would love the idea of getting into bed with her right now.

“How do you want me to touch you?”

You chew the inside of your lip, “Any way you want to.”

She chuckles before brushing her hand down your exposed arm, “Is this for the bit or do you want me to genuinely touch you?”

You notice her being sincere. You think back to all the times you joked about sleeping with Ellie, and while at the time you chalked them up to being jokes, deep down, maybe it’s actually what you wanted.

With the way she’s looking at you now, you prayed on every star that she would continue pushing your buttons. That somehow she would forget Dina even exists and realize it was you all along.

“Hey guys,” Her voice brings you out of your horny daze. It was the last voice you were expecting, and you can tell by the look on Ellie’s face, she is thinking the same thing.

“Oh, hey Dina!” You quip up, not moving all the much to ensure she sees Ellie’s hand on your bicep.

“You two busy?” The way she asks is almost too demanding. You glance back over at Ellie whose color is draining from her face.

You shake your head, finally sitting up. Ellie’s hand doesn’t leave you though, instead, it just drops to your thigh. You try not to acknowledge it, as you notice Jesse coming up behind Dina. But now it feels so heavy against your legs, the weight of the situation finally hitting you.

It worked.

“We are just talking,” Ellie manages, her voice cracking.

Jesse comes up behind Dina, wrapping his arms around her. You’re suddenly grateful that Ellie’s hand is still on you, the jitters hitting your system subsiding by the physical feeling of her being so near.

“Looked like more than that,” Jesse jokes, his smile taking up a lot of his face, “You good Ellie?”

“Ellie was just telling me about the patrol she just went on with Jesse,” You explain quickly, making sure to look at Dina and not Jesse. “She told me about the infected y’all ran into!”

“Oh yeah, shit was crazy,” Jesse squeezes Dina tighter, “We gotta get back out there again, Ellie. You were a beast at taking those suckers down.”

“U-uh yeah, absolutely.”

You grab her hand as a reassurance. The exchange gets awkward quickly, none of you knowing what else to say.

“Well, we should get goin’,” Dina says tapping Jesse’s arms, “See you two around?”

You two just nod. They walk away, not saying much of anything else. You stare at the wall, humiliated by the last 10 minutes of your life. You were unsure if you could even look Ellie in the eyes again.

Ellie huffs loudly, sitting further back in her chair. “Well, that failed.”

You start to agree until that little bit of Ellie that’s rubbed off on you starts to come up your throat. The not-giving-much-of-a-fuck is creeping up on you.

“Did it? Because I think it went exactly how I wanted it to.”

You finally return your eyes to her bewildered expression. You pull her hand off your lap as you stand up, yanking her up after you.

“You wanted it to go like that? What was the point?”

You pull her closer to you before raising your lips up to her ear. Her hair is tucked behind the crest of her ear, so it tickles your nose a bit before you speak.

She turned you on, so now you needed her to do something about it. Here’s to not giving a fuck.

“The point was to get you to finally touch me.”

The temperature in the room rises a million degrees. Ellie’s eyes light up at the statement and you know that was exactly what she wanted to hear before Dina came up to you.

You start to pull her towards the kitchen door, right near your table. You remember finding a hidden supply closet back there last Christmas party. Your skin was on fire as you dragged her through the appliances to the somewhat large closet. It was practically empty, void of anything anyone at the party may need, so it was safe. Plus it had a lock.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Ellie’s on you. Her lips hit yours and it was exactly how you imagined it. She was quick and eager with her kisses, her tongue plunging into your mouth immediately. She was grabbing your hips, pushing you towards the wall where all the brooms and mops were. You try not to trip, giggling as you pull her face closer to you.

“So this is what you wanted?” She pulls away from you for a breath, “Using making Dina jealous as a ploy to get to finally kiss you?”

Your hands find the spot above the hem of her jeans, right under her t-shirt. Out of instinct, you start to unbutton her pants.

“Actually, that wasn’t the plan.”

Her eyes are trained on your lips, “Is that so?”

“No, but you were playing the part way too well and I realized something.”

“What did you realize?”

The overhead light was so dim but you could still somehow see her cute freckles.

“That I want you more than I want anyone else. I need you to touch me more often.”

She chuckles, her fingers still pressed into your hips, “Well, bug, I’m touching you just like you asked.”

She drags kisses up your jaw and neck. You try not to fall apart over that alone. Ellie always talked about how inexperienced she was, but she’s probably the most tentative kisser you have ever encountered.

“Can you touch me here?”

You press your hands to the zip of your jeans. She looks down at your body to where you’re touching and she clicks her tongue.

“Ask politely, baby, and I’ll do anything you want.”

The nickname change makes your heart stop.

“Can you, my sweet best friend, touch me and get me off? Please?”

She groans at the question, a sound you never thought she’d make for you.

“Of course,” She grabs the belt loops of your pants before yanking them down your legs without resistance, “What are friends for?”

You know you’re soaked by the way she smiles up at you. She gets down on her knees, looking up at you, as her hands slowly start to spread your legs. You are standing against a wall, watching your best friend’s face creep close to your center.

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She pulls at your panties, toying with the fabric before you take matters into your own hands and pull them down your legs.

She brings her lower lip between her teeth, “This wet for me?”

You could slap the stupid smirk off her face, but before you can even say something snarky back, she slips her digits between your glistening slit. Your body practically buckles at the prodding, so you brace yourself against the shelf next to you.

Your normal reaction to feeling good is to close your legs together tightly, but Ellie has her left hand mounted to your inner thigh, keeping you open for her, while the other one is slowly creeping up to your weeping hole. She’s gentle when she puts one finger inside you.

Once your body reacts around her, she pulls her finger out to inspect how wet you are. After she’s satisfied with her findings, she adds another which causes you to mewl at the sensation.

“Ellie, please,” You beg, trying to get more friction. She’s not letting you do anything but watch.

“Mmm,” She hums before moving her face closer to you, “Love to hear you moan my name, bug. You wanna be a good girl? Keep begging.”

You never took Ellie as someone who loves to hear her sexual partner beg, but it turns you on even more.

You watch her close in on your clit, her tongue finding the bud and flicking it a couple of times. The moans that come out of your mouth are so deprived. Her fingers slip so seamlessly in and out of you, that you try to remember a time you were so wet. Nothing comes to mind because all your brain is thinking is Ellie, Ellie, Ellie.

“Please, please,” you plead, trying your best to egg her on so she goes faster. It works because she picks up the pace fucking you. Her mouth suddenly closes around your clit, and she sucks.

Your one hand is still gripping onto whatever is next to you, but your other hand has to rest somewhere. Her short brown locks are right there, so you grab on.

Her mouth leaves your clit, and instead, her tongue licks up and down your weeping hole. When you bring her closer in, her nose starts to stimulate your sensitive bud.

The sounds are so wet and depraved, you’re sure the bubbling in your stomach is about to come to a tipping point. You find yourself grinding forward, trying to get friction on your clit again. Her nose prods the spot over and over again as you grind down onto her face.

Ellie hums as she fucks you, trying her best to push your limit. You know you’re close and you are sure she can feel how tight your pussy is gripping onto her fingers. She knows you’re close so she kicks it up a notch and shakes her head between your folds. That motion alone sends a tidal wave within you crashing to the shore. You pull her hair so hard, you know it probably hurts but fuck, you needed her to feel how good she was making you feel.

The white-hot feeling starts to subside and you are panting like you just ran a mile. You finally release Ellie’s head, letting her come up for air. Her lips are saturated with your slick and it looks like she’s drunk on you by the way her eyes are half shut. She pulls her two fingers out of your tight hole, making you whine at the emptiness.

She stands up, bringing her two fingers up to your lips.

“Wanna see how good you taste?”

She’s so fucking dirty. It gets you so riled up.

You grab onto her wrist and bring the fingers up to your mouth. You suck them dry, giving into how absurd this is.

“You’re a freak, too,” She beams at you, before bringing you into another feverish kiss. You were so mesmerized by her. She grabs onto your hips, pulling your naked bottom half to her still-clothed legs.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You grumble, still recovering from the drilling you just had. Her hands travel up your sides, under your t-shirt. She is holding onto your ribcage, looking at your exposed tummy as the shirt rides up.

“I didn’t think you’d go for me, especially when guys like Jesse are your type,” She explains, so enthralled by the way your body looks to her, “I don’t know if I can let him have you, now.”

You smirk, your hands twisting around her shoulders, “Oh, I see. Well, if he can’t have me, then Dina can’t have you.”

“Well, thank God they have each other, then.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams oneshot #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #gracieheartspedro #tlou ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut

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kokumbabushka · 2 years

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ipad kid time i need more shows

#mf i watched 3 episodes of the sandman per night #then tonight the last #how am i going to sleep my brain expects 2 more episodes and there is no shows i can think of to watch #literally not healthy #no shows at all tomorrow:'(#4 days of enjoyment can ruin you #this is a joke i just miss watching it but dont feel like rewatching it #yet??#show recs??#genuine joke trust that i can sleep #kind of #need something to watch tho? preferably short??#mf i am too tired to watch the walking dead #my friend wants me to watch kenobi but i feel like before that id want to watch the movies #I'm just waiting for when i have the time and patience to watch star wars lol #hm #delete l8r just rambling #i feel bad i unfollowed someone because they were sandman posting and i was only on episode three #and planned to follow them back once i catched uo but i cannot remember their name at all💀#AH sleepy #gn do not want to type even tho i am not asleep #or do i??#just gn #💤💤💤#back in the day we didnt care about the star wars series #we just watched the family guy version #jk but how did i watch star wars as a kid and enjoy it? i had little idea as to what was going on

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captainfern · 9 months

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me, patiently waiting for any marigold updates because i can’t get enough of dbf!price: :3c

(in all seriousness tho i love your work so much you have converted me into a price slut and i am eternally grateful)

(live laugh love barry sloane)

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Marigold pt. 4

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - price is deployed for over four months. photos and phone calls aren’t enough. when he gets home, you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.5k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], exchange of explicit photographs, phone sex, mutual masturbation through the phoneeeee, unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], fingering, praise, light degradation, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, breeding kink [yk fern be serious when it's in bold], creampies, strong language, fluffy at the end, porn with a bit of plot i guess, um... i think that's it omfg i need to take a breath after typing this

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the longer dbf!price fic i told you all i'd write

*rings little bell* dinner is served whores

Deployment was never easy for Price. Even when he didn't have anyone waiting at home for him, leaving the safety of what was familiar to him was stressful enough. He never showed it, though. He had a taskforce to captain. He couldn't afford to get homesick during missions of life and death.

But now...

Now, things were different.

He had you waiting for him. Sure, you weren't waiting for him in the sanctuary of his home— like he wanted you too— but you were still waiting for him.

So this deployment was especially hard for Price. The night before he left, he popped around to your house to say goodbye to your dad. They talked for a while as you listened in from the top of the stairs. When it was time for Price to leave, he stood at the bottom with his arm resting along the bannister, looking up at you.

"Say bye to Price, honey." Your dad said.

"Bye, Price. Stay safe." You said politely, your dad smiling gently at you.

Price's jaw ticked before he nodded in return. "Thanks."

He wanted nothing more for you to bound down the stairs and launch yourself into his arms. He wanted to hold you tight to him as you whispered in his ear. He wanted to litter your face in kisses and run his hands along your back and arse. He wanted to mutter into your ear, telling you he'll be back to you in no time. Back to you.

Instead, he turned on his heel, your dad offering him a hearty slap on the back as he walked Price onto the front porch. You watched them go, your heart in your throat. Your eyes stung with tears, chest beginning to heave. So, before the emotions could bubble to the surface, you retreated into your bedroom in search of sleep.

You didn't see Price look over his shoulder in search of you.

•º•

Price texted you when he could. Which, to your dismay, was not a lot.

A couple times every week, maybe, if service was good. Most of the time, it was a short burst of conversation. A couple of exchanged words before he was back into the thick of his mission. Even more common, he'd text you a huge paragraph before he went dark for several days, leaving you to reread the heart-warming message over and over again with tears in your vision.

A month passed like this.

During this time, the mission was critical for Price, so you understood why his attention was elsewhere. But, after about six days of anxiously waiting for a text, you got one.

————Hey, sweetheart. How've you been? alright. work sucks as usual. how are you?———— ————Not bad. I miss you. i miss you too. oh my god don't make me cry————

You managed to talk a bit more, before he was gone. With a simple goodbye, and a couple of x's, no more messages came through. You found yourself rereading the conversation over and over again, your stomach knotted with anxiety.

You lay back in bed, snuggling beneath your blankets. It was late, and you had work in the morning, but you doubt you'd be getting much sleep. Your stomach was a swirl of nerves, and sadness continued to simmer in the back of your mind.

You grabbed hold of the neckline of the tee you were wearing, bringing it up to your face and inhaling deeply. It smelt like Price. Your favourite cologne of his, too— all rich and masculine, with a hint of cigar smoke. You whined into the shirt.

You missed him so much.

•º•

Another entire month passed.

Price was on edge, too.

The 141 boys had noticed it. Price was a bit shorter and snappier with them. He smoked an extra cigar each day, too, and would smoke it right to it's last dying embers.

He was still doing his job really well— as soon as they were out on the field, Price let nothing distract him. But, in the solace of a safe house, or other place away from the fighting and shooting, Price's emotions were altered. He found himself checking his phone, despite having absolutely no reception where they were. He spent hours before missions checking, and re-checking the equipment, muttering meticulously to himself.

Gaz tried to ask what had Price so worked up. Price dismissed him, stating it was nothing. Gaz wasn't convinced, but didn't want to get in Price's way. Soap poked fun at his captain, but that didn't last long after a scolding from both Price and Ghost. Ghost would give Price a look when the captain would check his phone for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Something on your mind, captain?" Ghost asked.

Price shook his head. "Nothing, mate."

He was a goddamn liar.

He pulled out his phone again, opening your messages. It had been two weeks since your last conversation. You had been the one to sign off. The time differences were not helpful.

————ok, talk to you later :) stay safe! miss you x

He felt his throat go tight.

Fuck.

He missed you so much.

•º•

Two more months ticked past.

Four months since he'd left.

It was absolute torture for both you and Price.

Luckily, Price and the 141 found themselves hunkering down in an area with reception. Price was ecstatic when he saw those bars appear in the top left corner of his phone screen. Throughout the entire day, he felt as though his phone was burning a hole through his pocket. He was itching to text you. To talk to you.

It was like a shadow, looming over him— the temptation of stepping aside and pulling out his phone so that he could text you.

He wanted to tell you that he was alright, and that he'd be home soon. He and the boys were safe. More importantly, he wanted to know if you were safe— how were you? How was everything at home? At work? What had you been up too? Where have you been recently?

By the time the 141 reached the next safe house for rest, it was late at night. Pitch-black, the taskforce dragged themselves into the house and separated almost immediately, chasing sleep while fending off exhaustion long enough to find a bed or couch. Price found himself across the house, tucked away in one of the rooms as he pulled his phone from his pocket while he kicked off his shoes and prepared to get into bed.

Immediately, his phone screen lit up with numerous text messages from you. He smiled wide, his heart soaring. With a trembling hand, he opened the messages, his heart beating excitedly against his ribcage. The thought of you made his heart race.

————captainnnnn i miss you so much ––––four months is too long i'm going insane ––––i miss you more than anything

Price chewed on his bottom lip, clearing his throat as sadness swelled there. He turned off his phone and blinked into the darkness for a moment, before switching it back on. There was a break in the messages by about an hour, Price noticed.

————fuck price i need you ————open this alone [image] x3

His smile dropped at the most recent text messages, sent just seconds ago. He blinked at the three photos, his mouth dropping open in shock. The shock was quickly replaced by need as his cock hardened in his trousers and he let out a low groan.

You fucking tease.

The first photo was a selfie of you from the waist up— you were wearing his t-shirt, which pooled around you. You were propped up in bed, face shiny with moisturiser, skin dewey with the aftereffects of being fresh out the shower. It was tame, but your nipples showing clearly through the cotton of the shirt made Price's eyebrows quirk in intrigue. A smirk settled on his face, and he spent a good five minutes just looking at your pretty features.

When he swiped to the next photo, he muttered a "fucking hell" out loud. A mirror selfie, with that floor-length mirror you had in your room. You were twisted half away from the camera, with your arse to the mirror and your upper torso towards the side. You wore a tiny fucking thong, the curve of your arse on full display, making Price release a shaky breath. You still wore his shirt, too, but hoisted it up with your free hand, exposing your abdomen and a small sliver of skin from your tits.

Price hands shook as he reluctantly swiped to the next one, his cock painfully hard in his cargos. He quickly unbuckled his belt with his freehand as the last photograph illuminated the screen.

"Christ." Price hissed, dipping his hand into his boxers and pulling his cock out.

You, wearing absolutely fucking nothing, standing in front of your mirror in such a way that Price groaned into the air, tossing his head back. You looked so good, so fucking good. Your bare legs, your hips and thighs, your tummy and waist, your tits. Fuck, you looked so pretty.

He gripped his cock firmly, hissing out a breath, eyes taking in every inch of your body. He quickly spat into his palm, before stroking himself, paying careful attention to the underside of his tip, just like you would.

He groaned lowly, careful not to disturb the rest of the task force across the house. Teeth biting into his bottom lip, he fucked his fist in the darkness, his phone screen illuminating his face in a soft white glow. Your photo on screen, he could imagine the hot suction of your mouth on his cock— the purposeful movements of your tongue along the one prominent vein running up the lefthand side; the cheeky skim of your teeth when you pressed your nose into his hair, tip of his cock at the back of your throat.

"Fuck, pretty girl—" He whispered, dark hooded eyes on his phone, his thumb flicking between each photo.

He could imagine more, too. The tight, wet grip of your cunt around his cock, taking more and more. He choked on a low moan at the thought. Your pretty cunt— always dripping for him, soaking your best underwear as you rode his thigh; the tight heat as you rode his cock, tip slamming into your cervix with soft wet sounds.

Price spat onto the head of his cock again, trying to imagine it was you doing it. The speed of his hand sent wet clicks through the room, paired with deep, hushed grunts and groans. Price had dropped his phone onto the bed next to him, propping it up on the pillow so he could still see your photos. But pleasure was quickly taking over his body, his free hand at his balls as he fucked his fist to the thought of you, you, you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He whispered, movements desperate.

Swiftly, he grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it up, biting it between his teeth to expose his abdomen. Groaning around the fabric, he came up his stomach, white splattering along the soft ridges of muscle. He whispered your name as he stroked himself through it; stroked himself until his hips twitched in overstimulation, and his cock softened in his hand, slick with his release.

He breathed hard, hand sticky.

Thinking in an exhausted post-nut haze, he grabbed his phone and snapped a couple pics of himself. Of his cum splattered up across his abdomen, through his happy trail; and of his cock in his hand, painted white.

He wanted to roll his eyes. He felt like a horny fucking teenager.

Price sent you the pair of photos before he made quick work of hurrying to the bathroom and cleaning himself up without waking anyone. When he returned to his room, his phone was illuminating again with more messages.

————holy fuck price oh my god ————fuck you're so hot i can't

Price couldn't help but smile as he settled into bed.

You started it, sweetheart.———— ————yeah. did you like them? I think the photos I just sent make it obvious.———— ————you wanked to my photos captain?

Price laughed. Of course he did. He had a whole collection on his phone, photos and videos, of you in varying states that he fucked his fist too each night he missed you.

Of course I did, pretty girl. Just look at you.———— ————price... You're so fucking beautiful.———— ————price don't make me horny. i have work 😭

Price smiled softly at your messages, his breathing calming. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride in the way you talked to him; how you texted him and called him; how you still called him Price after all this time. Your Captain Price.

Call me later if you can, sweetheart.———— ————i will. miss you so much I miss you too. Have a great day at work.———— ————i'll try. stay safe, old man x

•º•

A week went by. Just one more week until Price was home free. Four and a half months away was brutal.

His emotions were slowly becoming harder and harder to ignore. He found himself thinking of you constantly. He missed you so much it was making him worry— worry about you, about his boys, about the end of the mission. Fuck, his mind was going a hundred miles an hour, but his main thoughts were all about you.

The week didn't have as much contact with you as he would've liked. He found himself fucking his fist to the file of saved videos he had of you— wet cunt taking his fingers, his cock, your mouth whimpering his name, his rank.

Goddamn it, he felt like a teenager. Constantly horny for the pretty girl who sent him nudes. Wanking to said nudes almost every night. What had gotten into him?

He kept thinking about how there was one week until he was home. That kept him going. One week until he could hold you in his arms, hug you, kiss you, absorb your presence. One week until he could shove his cock, his tongue, his fingers into your tight cunt.

He screwed his eyes shut. What the fuck, Price.

It's like you knew he was thinking about you.

Price jolted when his phone vibrated on the table beside his bed. He leaned over and grabbed it, leaning against the headboard and smiling as he saw your name flash on screen. He answered, trying to keep his excitement to hear your voice at bay.

"Hey, pretty girl." He drawled, and he heard you whine softly through the phone, making his smile stretch tenfold.

"Hi, Price," you whispered, and the sound of your voice alone had Price's stomach erupting in butterflies. You sounded tired, as though you'd just woken up.

"Did you wake up to call me?" Price asked.

"Mm... maybe," you replied. "But it's okay. I wanted to call you."

Price chuckled. "Okay, sweetheart. How've you been?"

"Good... mostly..." You said, words stretching out.

"Mostly?"

"Mhm. I miss you."

"I miss you too." Price whispered his reply, throat growing tight. He cleared his throat to try and dislodge the tight, burning sensation.

"Mm... tell me about your day." You said.

Price did. He talked about the mission, and the things that had been happening these past few months. He explained how this week was closing everything up before he'd be home.

Then, silence followed. Price listened to your breathing, wondering what was going on inside that pretty head of yours. He was about to ask, too, when he heard you release a high-pitched whine. This was followed by the rustling of sheets, and a shaky inhale of breath from you.

"You alright?" Price asked, and your response was a low moan.

Price's cheeks flared red as he listened to the soft sounds filtering through the phone. Then, he pressed his tongue to his bottom lip, smiling as he listened to you.

"You touching yourself, pretty girl?"

"Fuck—" You whispered. "Y-yeah. Miss you so m-much and you sound so g-good."

Price chuckled lowly, at the right baritone that made you whimper. Price continued to smile to himself as he dipped his free hand into his boxers and pulled his hardening cock out, giving it a couple of strokes before he began speaking to you.

"Tell me what you're doing," he whispered as his cock hardened more, your noises music to his ears. "Be a good girl and tell me how you're touching yourself."

You moaned. "Ah... 'm using my fingers."

"Yeah?"

"Y-yeah... two."

Price spat into his hand and gripped his cock, spreading it along his length.

"Imagining they're yours," you breathed. "But... fuck— they're not big enough, Price— fuck— s'not you."

You were almost sobbing now, and Price could hear how wet you were. Loud, slick sounds. Hell, it felt like Price was there.

He listened to the way you fucked your fingers into your cunt, the way you sobbed out for him, breathing erratically.

"You sound so fucking wet, sweetheart," Price muttered, fucking his fist. "Such a perfect cunt. Come on, add another finger."

Price heard you sob out a moan as you added another finger into your aching core. Price imagined your body trembling against your bed, hips shunting forward to try and notch your fingers deeper. But they wouldn't go deeper. They weren't Price's.

"Captain—" You moaned sweetly, and that made Price's cock jerk violently in his hand. He cursed as you fought to spit out a sentence through a moan. "Feels so good."

"Yeah? I bet it does, sweetheart. Good girl, keep fucking that pretty wet cunt with your fingers. That’s a good girl." Price whispered deeply, listening to your sounds.

He was breathing hard, too. Grunting and groaning into the phone, making your cunt clench around your fingers. You released whimpers and whines in response as you tried desperately to chase your release using your fingers, imagining they were your captains.

Ultimately though, it was his words that were sending you closer to release.

"That's it, that's it, such a good girl," Price said. "Fuck that pretty cunt. When— ah, fuck— when I get home, I'm gonna stuff you full, sweetheart. Stuff that pretty cunt with my cock. You want that? You want me to fill you up? O'course you fucking do, my perfect girl."

You bit your lip, moaning. "Price, m'gonna—"

"Cum for me. Cum 'round your fingers like a good girl."

Price listened to your orgasm with his mouth agape, fastening the pace of his hand. He whined your name under his breath, breathing hard, no doubt loud where your phone was pressed to your ear.

"Coming, sweetheart," Price panted, lower stomach tightening. "M'coming—"

He came in hot spurts all over his cock, thighs, hand and upper arm. Residual splatters went up his bare abdomen, too.

He breathed hard into the phone. "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you when I get home."

He heard you laugh. "What a way to ruin the mood, captain."

•º•

When Price got home, he didn't even bother unpacking. He dumped all of his shit in the hallway, kicking off his boots while pulling up your contact on his phone. He sent you a text, telling you to come over, and your reply was instantaneous.

Come over.———— ————you're home??? Sure am. Don't keep me waiting.———— ————i'm on my way

Excitement built inside him as he smiled down at your message. Never had he ever felt this way about a person before.

He moved around the darkness of his home, turning on the lights and drawing the curtains. He sighed to himself, finally making the effort of taking his bags upstairs and putting them in one of the spare rooms. He'd sort them out tomorrow.

With excitement to see you still heavy in his body, he had a quick shower and scrubbed away the remnants of his deployment. Afterwards, he got dressed, pulling grey sweatpants [lol hehe] over his boxers just as he heard the engine of a car in his driveway. His heart fluttered and, not bothering to put on a shirt, he hurried downstairs.

When he threw open the door, you had a fist raised to knock. You squeaked in surprise when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it, before pinning you against it. He slotted his mouth to yours, and you gasped into the kiss, before wrapping your arms around his bare shoulders.

Price pulled out of the kiss after a long moment, breathing deeply as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Hello to you too," you joked, smiling. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Price replied. "So much."

You leaned in and kissed him this time, taking the lead. He groaned happily, putting both hands on your waist and pulling your lower half into his. You hummed into the kiss, tongues smoothing together, as he nudged your legs apart with his knee and settled it at your already aching core.

"Remember what I said to you on the phone last week?" Price asked, as you peppered his face in kisses. He fought off a smile.

"That you'd fuck the shit out of me when you get home?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah, I remember," you smiled, nipping his earlobe. "You gonna do it, or no?"

"Cheeky..." He muttered, kissing you one last time before spinning you away from the door. He pushed you away from him with a smack to the arse.

He nodded to the stairs. "You know where I want you."

His words went straight to your core.

With a building ache between your legs, you shakily kicked off your shoes. Then, you bounded up the stairs, wiggling your arse as you went. You giggled when Price groaned, following just a few steps behind.

You practically skipped into his bedroom. You turned around just as he walked in, pulling you closer to him straight away. Hands on your hips, he kissed you hard, his tongue pushing against yours, exploring your mouth. The kiss was full of longing and desperation— all of Price's pent up emotion from four months apart.

Price guided you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. He lay you down on your back, shifting you so you had your head on his pillows. He followed, crawling over top of you, continuing the kiss. You tugged at his hair with one hand, the other moving to the waistband of his sweatpants. You skimmed a fingernail over the elastic.

Price broke the kiss. He licked his lips, savouring the taste of you.

"Impatient, are we?" He queried as your fingers pulled the waistband of his sweatpants down, exposing his boxers and the imprint of his hard cock.

You cupped his bulge and he grunted.

"It's been four months, Price. Of course I'm fucking impatient." You quipped, squeezing lightly.

He cursed, eyes shutting, hips canting into your touch. After a second, he opened his eyes and battered your hand away from him. He slunk downwards until he rested between your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, cocking your head to the side as he took off your trousers and your underwear.

The scene was oddly tender. He placed kisses along the bare skin of your legs as he pulled your trousers and underwear away. He tossed them across the room, resuming the trail of kisses along your thighs and knees. He kissed right past your most sensitive part, and you blew out a breath, as his lips pecked over your hips, navel and tummy while he pushed your shirt up.

You helped him pull your shirt over your head.

"No bra?" Price remarked, hands automatically cupping your tits. "Naughty girl."

He tweaked your nipples, making you whine.

"Price, please..." You begged, voice trailing off as he pinched at your sensitive nipples.

"Hmm? What do you want?"

You felt your face heating up. "Want your mouth on me."

"Yeah? My pretty girl wants my mouth on her?" Price drawled slowly, edging back down your body until he was settled comfortably between your legs. He gripped the plush flesh of your thighs in two large hands, squeezing and groping.

You whined, feeling his breath fan across your dripping core. "Please, sir."

He hummed, content. "You always ask so nicely. Such a good girl for me, sweetheart."

You and Price both moaned when he sealed his mouth over your clit first. He circled the bud with his tongue, your hips bucking, hands fisting the sheets at your sides. The vibrations of his moans made your mouth drop open.

His facial hair tickled your inner thighs as he sucked on your clit. He skimmed his teeth along the top of the sensitive bud, and you cried out, shooting one hand down to grab his hair. He grunted when you tugged. He then dragged his tongue down your folds slowly— so slowly you thought you might have a fucking heart attack at the sensations— before circling your soaking hole.

"Such a needy fucking cunt," Price mused directly into your core. "Always so wet for me."

Price licked into you, making you bite back a scream. Four months without his mouth on you had driven you to the brink of insanity. You gripped his hair, urging him closer as the solid muscle of his tongue moved in and out of your core. The sounds were slurping wet, echoing loudly in your ears. They played amongst a chorus of Price's grunts and groans, and your whines and whimpers, producing an orchestra of sounds.

His beard scratched the sensitive skin. Not that you minded. It only added to the tight coil in your lower tummy that was twisting tighter and tighter, your body shining with sweat.

"Price, I'm so close." You sobbed as he continued to lick into you, his eyes watching your facial expressions change.

Price dragged his tongue in a zig-zag motion up your slit, sucking your clit into his mouth as he watched you squirm. "Ask nicely, sweetheart."

You keened, your climax building so aggressively that your legs trembled in his hold and you felt a thin layer of sweat building on your lower back, still pressed against the soft blankets.

"Please, sir, can I..."

His teeth skated across your clit again, and you moaned loudly.

"Fuck—! Please, sir, p-please, can I cum? Please, please—"

He seemed satisfied with that. He dipped his tongue back into your cunt and stuffed it inside, humming confirmation that you could let go. The hum seemed to punch you straight in the fucking uterus, and you came with a mewling moan. Price lapped it up, pressing your thighs tighter around his head.

He sucked you through your high. While you trembled, he massaged your thighs, tongue moving in and out of you lazily. Just when you were on the verge of overstimulation, Price pulled back. His facial hair glistened with your arousal, sparkling in the semi-darkness.

He tutted at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

You hadn't realised tears were streaming down your face.

"Mmmfeltsogood—" You whimpered out in one jumbled word, a couple of tears running over your lips. "Missedyousomuch—"

"My poor girl," Price crawled over you. "My poor, needy girl."

He licked the tears off your lips, before kissing a few off your cheeks. He kissed you deeply once you caught your breath, and you tasted your arousal and the salt from your tears. The arousal on his face smeared onto yours, leaving sticky residue across your chin and cheeks.

"You alright now?" He asked gently, voice soft.

You nodded.

"Good. I'm going to fuck you now, okay?"

Fuck, well okay then.

You nodded again. He chuckled behind a close-lipped smile while he shoved his trousers and boxers down his legs, kicking them onto the floor. You whimpered at the sight of his cock— hard, curving towards his abdomen with a reddened tip leaking ivory beads of pre-cum. A prominent vein ran down the left side, from tip to base, dipping into his pubic hair. His dark happy trail crawled up towards his navel, skimming the base of his abs. You were fucking salivating.

He situated himself between your legs, which you wrapped around his hips as he sat back on his heels. He gripped his cock, hissing as he stared at you. So pretty. All for him.

"Condom?" You joked with a coy smile, watching the copious stream of pre dribbling down his length.

He huffed an amused laugh, leaning over you. Drips of pre landed beside your navel. "As if you don't enjoy me filling this tight cunt."

He wasn't wrong.

He kissed you as he notched his cock at your fluttering entrance, smearing your slick around while his tongue probed against yours.

"I missed you so much," he whispered against your mouth as his head pushed into you. "I missed you so fucking much, sweetheart."

The stretch was still difficult to get used too.

You exhaled a breath, his cock sliding in. "I missed you, too."

Eventually, his cock hit the base of your cervix and you whimpered. He shushed you with another kiss before he moved his face away, eyes darting across your features. He ground his hips into your pelvis, and you whimpered again.

"My girl's so sensitive." He uttered, pulling his cock all the way out. Then he thrust back in, and his brutal pace began— your moans of pleasure his starting gun.

His cock rammed against the plug of your womb repeatedly as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. He had one hand on your hip, the other beside your head as he fucked you into his bed. Your hands ran up and down his back, feeling the smooth planes of muscle. Your hands moved to his chest, squeezing his pecs. You smiled, fingers scraping through the coarse hair. Your hands continued lower, running over his sternum and abs, rubbing over the top of his happy trail.

He grunted, using one hand to snatch both of your wrists. Before you knew it, your hands were pinned above you. Price used one hand to keep your arms in place before his thrusts grew heavier— fucking his fat cock into your soaking cunt. He was fucking the shit out of you, just like he promised.

"That's my girl, just take it," Price grunted. "Take my cock. That's a good girl, sweetheart. That's a good girl. Let this needy cunt take my cock."

You whimpered, chest heaving, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest. The bed creaked beneath you, headboard tapping the wall. His cock continued to bruise your cervix in a way that had your entire body shivering in pleasure.

"Harder." You moaned.

"Harder?" Price chuckled, but obliged— the weight of his thrusts increasing, slamming into the spot within you that had your back arching. "You want it like this? Want it rough? Fucking hell, sweetheart, such a naughty girl."

You bit your lip, hiding your whimpers.

"Yeah, such a naughty girl," Price muttered, eyes zeroed in on where his cock entered you. "Naughty, naughty girl. Letting your dad's best friend fuck you like this. Letting your dad's mate fuck this tight cunt."

That made you moan really loud. His eyes found your face, a vulpine smile developing over his mouth.

"Yeah, you like that? 'Course you do. Needy fucking slut, aren't you, sweetheart? Just love this cock, don't you?"

His words made your core clench. You mewled, a pathetic little sound. You were one more bit of dirty talk away from coming all over his cock—

"Can feel this cunt squeezing me, pretty girl," Price said. "You wanna cum? Go on, then. Cum 'round my cock. Show me how much of a needy slut you are for this cock, darling."

Fucking hell.

You came.

A lot.

You squirted all over his fucking abdomen, and you felt it. Felt the wet gush, felt the warmth. But, above all, you felt the pleasure— tummy tightening, cunt fluttering, legs trembling. Usually, you'd moan his last name. You always had done— Price is what you'd called him since you could remember. Hell, it's what your dad would call him, too.

But this time was different.

"John—!" You cried, and Price smiled as he continued to fuck you.

"Good girl, good fucking girl, there you go," Price moaned through his smile. "Such a perfect girl."

His brutal pace continued, and you were quick to realise that, holy fuck, your third orgasm was looming, pooling in the base of your tummy.

"John..." You whispered.

"John? Thought that made me sound old?" Price mused, pounding into you. "You like that I'm older, don't you, sweetheart? Guys your age can't fuck you like I can."

You mewled again, barely able to keep your eyes open. You were doing your best to watch him. Watch the way he hovered over you, pinning your arms above your head. The way his hips surged with each thrust, slamming himself inside you. You felt the subtle vibrations of his chest against yours as he grunted and groaned.

Your third orgasm reared its head within you, and you felt breathless as the weight of the pleasure pushed moan after moan from your lungs. Price watched you, and the way your mouth dropped open in a continuous harmony of sounds.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier. He was panting, too, as he watched your body grow tight, your cunt constricting his cock in such a way that he grit his teeth to suppress a whimper.

"Come on, beg for me," he whispered, rutting into you desperately. "I know you're close, sweetheart, I know, I know. Just beg for it."

You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as the pleasure mounted, burning hot inside your tummy. You felt dizzy, too.

"Please, sir, please let me cum, please, I'm s-so close... n' feels so g-good."

He groaned, pleased. "That's my girl. Cum for me."

You did.

You came around him for the third time. You arched as best as you could in order to feel his chest against yours— feel his body, his warmth, his presence. Tears slipped from your eyes as you moaned, and you finally allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you did so.

Your brain was fuzzy and warm and you felt so good. He made you feel so good. The solid weight as he lay over you, the heat of his bare skin, the slight scratch of his light, coarse hair. He stuffed you full, his cock reaching a place far within you that ached each time he spoke. Maybe it was your heart he was reaching, maybe not with his cock— although it surely felt close— but with his hands. His voice, too, and his words, his personality, his mind. Captain John Price had a firm grasp on your heart, and that sent more hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

"I love you." You sobbed, and he released your hands at just the right moment. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

He groaned, deep and melodic, his arms either side of your face. He leaned down and captured your mouth in a soft kiss. It was slow and passionate, full to the brim with emotion.

Price pulled away slightly, speaking against your lips. "Say it again."

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you, John."

"Fucking hell," he kissed you again, rutting into your tight heat without any discerning rhythm. He was chasing his high. "I love you too."

He kissed the tears off his cheeks, before his head dropped into the crook of your neck. He nipped at the flesh, sucking a bruise.

"I love you, I love you," he repeated. "And m'gonna fill this pretty cunt with my kids. Breed you nice and full, sweetheart— ah, fuck— mhm, get you nice and full... all fat with my kids. Ah, ah— I love you."

He came inside you with a quiet moan, your name following like a mantra. You felt him, hot and thick, flood past your cervix. You whined, rubbing his shoulders.

Price dragged his cock out of you, bringing a wave of fluids with it. Embarrassment zapped up your spine as your arousal and his cum seeped out of your hole. Price ignored your whimpers, gently gathering his cum that had leaked out. He pushed two digits into your cunt, stuffing his cum back inside you.

"Don't waste it..." He whispered, more to himself than to you.

You whimpered under your breath at the feeling of his fingers inside you. He wiggled them around a bit, ensuring his seed stayed right up inside you.

"My perfect girl. I love you." He whispered again.

This time, it wasn't to himself. It was directly to you.

•º•

An hour or so passed and, after a couple more rounds, Price cleaned you up. Ever the gentlemen, he turned on the shower and helped you into it. Behind you, he soaped your body, running his hands along every dip and curve. He exited the shower first, grabbing a warm towel and wrapping you in it.

Little words were exchanged between the two of you as he dried you, then dried himself. You basked in each others presence. He then dressed you in his boxers and his shirt, kissing up your legs as he pulled the boxers up, and littering your face in pecks as he pulled the shirt over your head. He put on his boxers too, before guiding you back into his bedroom and yanking back the covers.

Price hopped in first. He held the blankets open for you to clamber in, nestling yourself against his chest. He settled the blankets back over you, hugging you tight to his body. He breathed deeply, nose to your hair.

You listened to his breathing for a moment.

"Price?"

"Mm?"

"I meant it, you know."

"Meant what, sweetheart?"

"That I love you."

He hugged you tighter. "I love you too."

You sighed into his chest. "This... I'm going to be in a lot of trouble with my dad."

"Yeah. Same."

You laughed at his nonchalance, leaning back to look at him.

"I'm serious," you muttered, fending off a smile, tapping his chest with your fingers. "I'm in love with his best friend."

He grumbled something.

You chuckled. "What?"

"If he has a problem, he can take it up with me."

"That is the problem, Price. He will take it up with you."

"True," Price said, and you laughed. He hummed, thinking. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, sweetheart, okay?"

"Okay..." You breathed, snuggling yourself back against him.

Comfortable silence followed. Then—

"Price?"

"Mm?"

"Do you really want me to have your kids?"

He choked on his saliva after inhaling to quickly. Shocked, probably. He coughed lightly, and you waited for him to soothe himself.

"Yeah, well, uh— okay, look, I mean—"

You pat his chest, echoing his words. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, John."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

let me know what you thought x

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #fem reader #captain price #captain price smut #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain’snirvana

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kiyoomi-levin · 2 months

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villain pt.1 (bakugoxf!reader) [NSFW]

a/n this was originally supposed to be a single fic but i wanted to see how ppl liked it lol. pt 2 is already in the making (and i promise it's more spicy than this one)

summary: harley (you) realize that joker (your boyfriend) is in love with batman (bakugo). If only harley also knew batman’s obsessed with her. —> inspired by this short word count: 4.9k warning(s): bakugo’s literally just a horndog

“I swear, Ren, if you pull anything like that again…”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as he pulls away from your grip.

“Enough, y/n. I always get you out, don’t I?”

You frown, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself.

“You try getting caught and being put into jail multiple times in a single month. It’s not funny,” you sigh.

You don’t even know what it’s like to be tied up by Bakugo fucking Katsuki, you want to add.

But you keep your mouth shut.

Ren’s already in a bad mood, jaw clenched tight as he walks faster. You’re almost jogging at this point just to keep up with his pace.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

Ren hardly glances at you as the two of you enter your cheap apartment complex, walking silently up the two flights of stairs to your front door.

You cringe as you round the corner—on your front door is a familiar piece of white paper, the contents of which you already know by heart.

Late rent notice: Dear tenet, your rent was due on the 7th of February. As of the date of this letter, your payment is 4 days past due.

Frustrated, you rip the paper off of the metal door as Ren reaches over and enters the pin.

Your jaw drops as he walks inside carelessly, unbothered with the notice.

The two of you have been dating for almost a year now; you’re long used to his carefree nature.

That’s what first drew you to him.

Now it merely disgusts you.

“Ren,” you cautiously call out as the door shuts behind you, “I think it’s time to give it up.”

Your boyfriend tosses himself onto the wrinkled couch, pointing towards the fridge. Frowning, you head over and grab him a cold beer.

“Thanks babe.”

You collapse next to him, relishing in the fluffy texture. After being in a holding cell for a few days, you’ve definitely missed the warmth of your home.

“I know you’re mad, and I understand. But we learned something new from last time, didn’t we? Dynamight was literally showing off his weaknesses! If we just—”

“Ren, stop it! That was the last time. I’m done. Seriously.”

Your boyfriend is pouting now, reaching over to hold you in his arms. You want to fight back, you should.

He jumps into his usual rant about how much he hates Dynamight; that asshole, always flaunting his wealth and looks. He’s just a shitty hero with a shitty quirk.

Meanwhile, you’re fighting back tears of frustration.

How had you gotten here?

A year ago, you had seemingly met the man of your dreams at the villain rehabilitation center (looking back, maybe that hadn’t been the best idea).

You had been working there as a volunteer and was popular with all of the residents as a bright psychology student and aspiring therapist.

Despite the havoc these wannabe villains had wreaked across Japan, you had treated all of them with kindness and respect, hoping you would be able to make a positive difference in at least a single person’s life.

How naive you had been.

“Hey, y/n,” Ren smirks as you gently open the door to the small office.

You exhale— this one villain has been bothering you more often recently, and he was just too cute for his own good.

“Takanashi Ren. Your counseling appointment isn’t until later this evening.”

“Aw. I can’t give my favorite therapist a visit?”

You grin at him, pushing your dark rimmed glasses up your nose.

“I’m not a therapist yet,” you retort, stepping back as Ren pushes back from his chair, striding over to you. He has you cornered to a wall, and the muscles of his arm flex dangerously, reminding you of his crimes.

Despite this, all you can notice is how bright his eyes are— gosh, you just love the way they twinkle.

“I’m sure a smart girl like you’ll achieve all your academic dreams. I just hope I’m out of here on time to watch you cross that stage.”

And with that, you’d fallen head over heels for a cringy, third-rate villain with no plans for the immediate future. But the more time you spent with him, you truly felt as though you’d met your match.

He was intelligent. Witty. Funny.

Most importantly, he was different. His ideas for a liberated world— where all quirks were considered equal and everyone had the freedom to use their quirks as they wanted— was just unlike what you’d ever considered.

If only you had paused for a moment and asked him just how he would create that world.

It had been too late when you had realized what you had gotten yourself into. Now, you spend your days as a college dropout, supporting your boyfriend in his schemes that always end in failure and with you in handcuffs.

But you had already sworn to devote yourself to him.

Question. Would you die for me?

Yes.

That’s too easy. Would you live for me?

… Yes.

“y/n, are you listening? We’ll stake out at his condo. I’ll do all the work, babe, you just have to stand watch. I’ve already planned it all out. ”

There it is, that strike of pain in your heart.

Dynamight.

That’s all your stupid boyfriend cares about.

You’re already shaking your head, refusing furiously— but he’s begging, begging!

… And you sigh and look away.

“Last. Time.”

You peek out of the corner of your eye to see Ren’s face brighten.

He really is just as pretty as when you first met him a year ago.

“I promise, y/n. Last time.”

Fuck Ren and his promises.

From the moment you had scaled Dynamight’s luxurious condo, you had known your boyfriend had skimped on doing his research again.

There’s no way we’re gonna get away with this.

Stuffed in a large delivery box, you only pray that Ren’s mailman cosplay is good enough to get through the lobby.

Nervously holding your breath, you cringe as your boyfriend flirts with the ladies at the front desk and wheels you into the elevator.

Tap tap tap.

Three gentle knocks on the front of the box and you know it’s your turn.

“I’ve just disabled the hallway cameras,” Ren whispers as he pulls the box open.

You step out eagerly, stretching, before turning towards the door.

The corners of your mouth twitch as you suddenly remember why you hate rich people.

Dynamight’s door just screams narcissism— who really needs a gold plated front door?

Bakugo, the nameplate reads. The dreaded name you hear on a near-daily basis.

You scoff as you reach into your pocket and pull out your decoding tool, placing it on the keypad in a single, practiced motion.

Ren taps his foot impatiently as you work with the machine— you only let out a breath of relief as the door buzzes and swings open what feels like an eternity later.

You’re already sweating as your heart thumps with discomfort and fear at being at the hero’s homebase.

Comically, it feels as though the two of you have just broken into a villain’s lair.

“God, babe. You’re the best,” Ren murmurs, pushing you aside.

He’s a little too eager to ruin his nemesis’ life.

Ren rushes inside of Dynamight’s home, barely holding back his immediate laughter as he spots the marble dining table.

He’s already poking around as you carefully close the door quietly behind you, tiptoeing into the large house.

“Can you believe this man? He’s so fucking full of himself,” Ren spits as he stares at the various newspaper clippings of Dynamight adoring the bookshelves.

Forget that— if you were Dynamight, you’d be living like this too.

This is life you had envisioned for yourself.

Gorgeous white pillars uphold a high ceiling and there’s a leather couch in the center of the room. A giant television sits in front of it, almost mocking you.

One day… When this was all over, would Ren want to live like this with you?

“Come on, babe. We gotta find the data,” Ren says, heading towards the closest door to him.

The initial excitement has worn off and he’s now refueled by hatred.

Right. The data.

If you could just get your hands on the data of all of the current Japanese heroes, that would be the biggest data breach in the history of the World Heroes Association.

You and Ren would go down as super villains— a title you still weren’t sure if you wanted.

You repress these useless thoughts, though, and trail Ren around the large home as he throws open doors.

“Are you sure he’ll even have it?”

“Yeah, there’s no way a top hero wouldn’t have access to this— Damn! A basement. You think he’d keep his PC down here?”

You think back to your encounters with Dynamight, shivering as you remember his piercing red eyes meeting yours.

Your boyfriend heads down without hesitation as you follow him, nearly jumping when he yelps in joy.

“His computer’s right here.”

You swallow as you turn your head around the dark basement, eyes not yet adjusted to the dark.

Ren presses the power button of the computer and the entire room lights up from the bright screen.

Couch, television, gaming consoles, mini fridge— this must be his man cave.

“Alright. Get on it, babe,” Ren says, stepping back as the flickering monitor.

Sighing, you lean down, plug in your trusty usb stick into the PC. This was going to be a long day.

WARNING.

You jump for real this time, letting out a surprised shout as the machine blares a loud alarm.

Holy fuck, what’s going on?

Before you can move, the heavy door to the basement suddenly slams shut— you hear the metallic locks clicking in place.

You glance at Ren in desperation, but he’s not looking at you, only frowning at the computer.

“Get on with it. We have at least 15 minutes, I’ll find a way out by then.”

You don’t bother protesting. Despite his easy going demeanor, you know Ren cares about you.

“Don’t worry, he’s in Korea for a conference,” he reassures you as he steps towards the staircase.

BOOM.

You scream as you’re pushed back by an explosion, groaning in pain as you strike the side of Dynamight’s large desk.

Collapsing on the ground, dust arises on either side of you.

Your ears are ringing and your vision is hopelessly blurry.

When you muster up the strength to touch your stinging face, you wince as your hand comes back bloody.

Ren. He was closer to the door.

Your eyes widen as you roll yourself onto your side, trying to reach up to the chair next to you for help—

“Fucker!”

You gasp as your vision clears and you take in the sight in front of you.

Dynamight has your boyfriend pressed onto the floor and strikes him in the face, once. Twice. Three times.

Ren tries to fight back, but he’s basically hopelessly laying there, taking in the blows.

It’s clear you’ve caught him off duty— Dynamight’s clad in nothing but a tank top and shorts.

Despite that, he dominates your boyfriend easily. He’s kneeling on Ren’s stomach, one hand pinning down your boyfriend’s shoulder and the other punching his face at a sickening rate.

You do nothing but watch as you watch Ren’s eyes flicker, then shut.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, taking away the remaining rationality in you.

Pushing yourself onto your feet, you throw yourself at Dynamight, whose eyebrows merely raise as he registers your face.

You pull out your knife, swinging for his neck— Dynamight throws up his arm, blocking your attempt— before you can react, you’re pinned to the ground next to your boyfriend.

“You… asshole…” you hiss, airflow momentarily cut off.

You struggle against Dynamight's strength, grimacing. You’re on your stomach, hands pinned behind your back. You try to kick him, but the strength in your legs fails you.

Dynamight lets out a small laugh as he sits on your ass and your eyes widen as you feel his dick through his pants grinding on you purposefully.

Fucking pervert.

You turn your head to your side, glaring into Dynamight’s blood-colored eyes. The corners of his eyes are pointed upwards, he’s grinning madly.

Leaning forward, Bakugo rests his right hand next to your face. Your immediate reaction is to lunge at it, trying to bite, but he pulls back quickly, yanking on your wrists. Your body arches upwards and you wince at the slight pull.

“Easy. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Despite your slowly subsiding anger and hatred towards the man on top of you, you feel yourself blushing against your will.

You hate how he talks to you. You silently remind yourself to take a recording of it next time and report him for sexual harassment.

While you’re fuming over your current situation and mumbling profanities at him, Bakugo leans back and admires you.

You look really good like this— actually, you look perfect. Your eyes are slightly moist, cheeks flushed and lips a delectable pink. Bakugo’s mouth is watering at the sight.

He’s already hard. He’s been aching in anticipation since he first got the alert that you broke into his home.

What would happen if he were to just…

You’re staring up at Bakugo again, watery eyes meeting his narrowed ones, and he feels a shiver run down his spine as he admires his reflection in them.

“Can you let me go already? You’ve won, we get it,” you huff, cheeks inflating.

He wants to stuff them full with his cock.

Easy, Dynamight. You’re a hero.

He glances down at you apathetically, although his cock is throbbing.

You ignore it the best you can, although you’re turning pink again.

You shift from side to side, hoping you won’t have to beg him to let you go.

You’d rather die than do that.

Smirking, he clicks his tongue as he reaches forward with his right hand and strokes your face.

“Give me a reason. You’re imposing on my home, doing who knows what?”

Your teeth find his hand this time, sinking into the hardened flesh.

You bite down as hard as you can, wishing he’d just let go of you. Your jaw is just beginning to ache as you muster the courage to look back up at him.

Your blood runs cold as you notice his unchanging expression— he looks almost bored. But something flashes in his eyes.

Fuck, maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

As you pull back, you squeak as he grabs you by your hair, sliding forward to sit on your wrists.

One hand holds your head upwards, while his other holds your face. His hand engulfs your entire jaw as he forces you to look into his eyes.

“I could take you right now, but I’ll save that for later.”

From a distance, you hear the shouts of policemen and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Bakugo lets go and watches as your head falls back onto the floor.

You’re so caught up in the commotion you don’t catch his next words.

“You’ll be begging for it soon, anyway.”

You can do nothing but watch in handcuffs as Ren’s eyes open hazily and focus on you.

“y/n, I’m so sorry,” he starts.

You shake your head, smiling sadly at him. Was it really over?

No, you promised you’d always be with him—

“Dynamight.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes have shifted from you onto Dynamight, the one person that has been on his mind obsessively for the past few years..

Ren’s shouting at Dynamight now, who merely laughs in response.

You don’t even notice that Dynamight’s staring at you.

All you notice is that you’re not in Ren’s line of sight anymore.

The words of policemen and Ren start swirling together as your heartbeat slows.

He’s not in love with you, is he?

You can hear your heart physically shattering.

He’s in love with Dynamight.

Bakugo’s still embarrassingly hard as he readjusts himself, sighing as he looks around his ransacked home.

The police have taken longer than he’d hoped, making sure to photograph everything.

Even more irritatingly, the medics had tried to heal your teeth marks imprinted in his arm, which he had pulled away quickly.

“I’m going to save this as evidence during the trial,” Bakugo had quickly lied.

The young medic had blinked in confusion, but nodded eagerly, not wanting to defy the number one hero’s demand.

When his agency had first received the tip that you and Whiplash would be attempting a data breach, Bakugo had rolled his eyes and hesitated on flying back in early from his vacation.

You and Whiplash were shitty, third-rate villains, if you could be even labeled as such.

You would always be deserted by your boyfriend, who’d dip the moment Bakugo stepped close to the crime scene. You (with your gorgeous, angered face that turns him on so fast) would be left behind for Bakugo to handcuff.

Bakugo still remembers the first time he’d been called to a scene with you and Whiplash.

One year ago, two petty, new criminals had attempted to rob a series of homes in upper Tokyo.

Bakugo had been whisked away from his date with a pretty newscaster and was irritated to hell— he had been working all night sweet talking to the girl and was surely going to get laid— but when he had gotten to the scene, still pulling on his gloves, all thoughts of regret flew out the window.

“Get me the fuck out of here!”

The female villain is shouting as she kicks her legs.

The scene is laughable— her upper half is tapped in the tights washing machine and Bakugo takes his sweet time striding over to you, admiring the curve of your ass and the way you shake as you try to free yourself.

“What happened here?”

Bakugo smirks. He’d heard that the male villain had gotten away but the female was still somewhere on the premises.

He’d been incredibly lucky to find you first. It’s hard to hold back from slapping your ass and ripping those black tights off of you, but Bakugo swallows and moves to touch your hip instead.

You squeak in surprise as you feel two fingers tracing a triangle onto your upper thigh.

“Stop touching me, pervert! You sick freak! I have a boyfriend! I’ll kill you if you try anything!”

Your scream is slightly muffled as you bang your hands on the sides of the circular machine.

Your back is aching from being bent over for the past ten minutes and you arch your back, holding back a pained moan. Whoever this asshole was, you were gonna rip him a new one when he freed you.

Bakugo frowns as ‘boyfriend’ echoes inside his head.

Were you being truthful or were you just trying to scare him off?

It’s taking everything in him to not grind against you and with every passing second Bakugo feels closer to losing the battle with his sex driven core.

After another moment of deliberation, Bakugo reaches out, yanking you effortlessly out of the machine.

God.

You were just as pretty as he’d hoped. Face flushed and sweaty from being inside a confined space for so long, you collapse on your ass and fan yourself dramatically, taking in big gulps of fresh air before looking up to glare at him.

“Fucking freak! What sort of perverted police officer are you?” You demand, frowning as Bakugo silently holds his hand out.

A few seconds of silence pass before you awkwardly take it, allowing him to help you up.

“Thank you,” you mumble as you wipe your hands on your shirt.

Your eyebrows are still furrowed with frustration as you bite the inside of your cheek.

Ugh… you’re so adorable, Bakugo wants to just squeeze you to death.

Now he really wishes he hadn’t helped you out. You were helpless, bent over just perfectly, practically inviting him…. As his imagination runs wild, he feels the blood rushing towards his groin.

Oblivious, you stretch your sore body, letting out a soft moan. You’re strangely relaxed, as if you were simply meeting an old friend.

“I’m going to be arresting you now. Turn around,” Bakugo sighs, shifting his balance from foot to foot. If only he wasn’t an up-and-coming hero.

Your eyebrows raise and the ends of your lips quirk upwards.

“Isn’t there something else I could do to get out of this?” You tease, turning around and holding your wrists behind your back.

Fuck. Is that you wiggling your ass or is he just seeing things?

Bakugo’s breath hitches. The cold cuffs in his hands are only furthering his imagination. He’s about to pounce on you, but as he’s deciding which piece of your clothing he’ll rip away first—

“Don’t get any ideas, perv. That was a joke.”

You giggle at his silence, looking back to glance at his face, which pales in humiliation.

You’re still laughing as Bakugo curses under his breath and shoves you harshly into the police car.

You wouldn’t be laughing when he fucks you silly—which, he swears, he will one day.

Since your destined meeting, you had been on Bakugo’s mind.

Every. Single. Day.

Your pout. Your delicate hands. Your arching back. Your whines and the way you try to fight back every time he walks you to the police van.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just a phase.

To Bakugo’s horror, when he met up with the same newscaster from that night, he found himself unable to get hard, no matter how much she sucked him off.

He could have waved that off as an anomaly, but six girls later, Bakugo finally had to admit he may have a problem on his hands.

Bakugo knew the solution to his ED and meaningless infatuation with you.

He was sure all he had to do was fuck you. Easy enough— he’s confident in his sex appeal.

But you were also an impossible target.

You and your villain boyfriend moved around constantly, living under various aliases.

And when Bakugo could finally meet you (about once a month, when your boyfriend’s plans were foiled once again) you were whisked off into police custody before he could even bring up sex.

How was he even supposed to get to that topic, anyways?

Hey, y/n. I only get hard when I see you cry. Or, actually, when I just think about you at all.

Wanna bang?

Bakugo halfheartedly (almost unconsciously, this is just an immediate reaction to seeing you) discards his shorts and briefs as he leans against the back of the couch.

Staring up at the ceiling, he’s now regretting letting his agency call for backup.

He’d had you under him, in his own home. He even had a condom ready in his shorts— something he’s started carrying around since last year in hopes he’d get ambushed by you randomly.

It’s unfortunate he couldn’t take things further with you, but for tonight, his imagination and thoughts of you would have to suffice.

He almost saw you cry…

Bakugo’s almost drooling at the memory of your teary eyes as you stared at your boyfriend, who was dragged away into the back of a van despite his protests.

Fuck. What does he have to do to make you cry?

He throughout beating up Whiplash would be enough, but maybe you didn’t like your boyfriend as much as he thought— that makes him smile.

“Ugh…”

Bakugo can barely hold back a soft moan as his cock hardens quickly, now standing in his hand.

It’s hot, and typically Bakugo would shed all his clothes, but tiny specks of your blood decorate his white top. It’s like you’re basically touching him.

He admires the bruising teeth prints on his right hand, the one that’s now slowly stroking his dick.

Your mouth was on his hand. His hand. The thought alone makes him want to cum.

Bakugo allows himself a full stroke, groaning as he presses himself deeper into the couch.

It almost feels as if he’s simply overstimulating himself, as if he’d already cum— that’s how strong you were as a stimulus.

With how much you tease, you’d start with the tip, wouldn’t you?

Bakugo gently holds his cock at the base with his left hand and thumbs the tip, rubbing his rough thumb against the wet precum.

He’d manhandle you, he’s imagined it countless times, it’s what a girl like you needs.

In his imagination, you’d be a pillow princess. He’s confident about this.

Your attitude, the way you demand he frees you… it all points towards you being a menace in bed.

You would saunter into the bedroom, wearing nothing but thin lingerie (in his favorite color, dark orange, almost red). You’d smirk as you climb onto his bed, making yourself comfortable.

Your pretty eyes would narrow as he walks in shirtless with a raging boner.

You would be sitting there, legs outstretched for him to grasp.

Bakugo would grab your ankles in each hand, focusing on kissing your precious feet before moving upwards.

He’d press his lips against your shin, your knee, then suck your plush thighs, savoring your taste.

He’d maintain his eyes on you throughout, admiring the way your lips part slightly and your heavy breaths. You’d glare at him when you notice him staring at you— you’re always fighting back, aren’t you?

But in bed he’s the one in control.

He’d get to your panties and give your clothed clit a lick, pinning down your legs that threaten to close.

Bakugo would suck, embracing the taste of lace and your juices leaking from across the other side of clothing.

Contrary to popular belief, Bakugo wasn’t that full of himself.

In bed, he only has one priority— your pleasure.

Bakugo allows himself to slightly loosen his grip and start stroking his entire length slowly, just like how you’d do it.

Just a few singular strokes feel so good, his entire body lights up, electricity running up his spine.

He runs his thumb along the one long vein from the base of his cock, shivering. His cock is getting heavier in his hand and a familiar pressure is slowly building in his stomach.

After a few moments, Bakugo would finally push aside the flimsy fabric, licking your clit directly.

He’d be fisting his cock while doing so, like he’s doing now, stroking to the rhythm of his flattened tongue.

He’d be almost drooling at the taste, sometimes letting himself wander to your hole and slip his tongue in your tightness. He’d continue alternating between sucking and licking, relishing in your increasingly loud moans.

Your legs would begin to tremble beneath him and you’d start begging quietly despite your stubbornness.

Your eyes would start to roll to the back of your head— and that’s when he’d stop, pulling away entirely, still stroking himself, tightening his fist around his heat if necessary to prevent himself from releasing.

You’d whine and maybe kick him, legs weakened from your ruined orgasm.

A little edging never hurt anyone.

It only makes the pleasure of a shared orgasm stronger.

Bakugo would tease your hole, nudging at the entrance with the tip of his leaking cock.

Without warning, he’d thrust— you’d groan from the intrusion, grasping the sheets.

He’d start moving mercilessly, pulling out his length to the tip before slamming it back in, over and over. He would quicken with your moans fueling his pace.

He’d lean over to capture your pretty lips with his, intertwining your tongues.

Fuck, Bakugo really isn’t going to last, especially with his new favorite mental photograph—you lying on your back helplessly. Bakugo’s mind does the photoshop for him, removing the debris from the explosion and placing the two of you on his bed.

He’s stroking himself fervently now, at the same pace he imagines himself fucking you at.

You’d be shaking under him, holding back your tears. And, in typical y/n fashion, your pride would force you to hold your moans back. You’d be pressing your trembling hand against your mouth, wouldn’t you? You would be biting down on it, with the same teeth that were clamped down on his own hand earlier.

You’d cum as he rubs his thumb roughly against your clit, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth dropping open.

Bakugo would make sure to ride you out throughout the entirety of your orgasm before allowing himself to fall into how tight and wet you are and reaching his peak himself.

“y/n… I’m cumming…”

Bakugo bites back a groan as his eyes close, lips almost breaking from how hard he’s clenching down.

Continuing to pump, Bakugo’s hips lift as he thrusts into his fist one final time—his orgasm is so strong, it feels as though he’s losing control of his entire body, shaking as he feels his cum squirt and his cock pulsing from the base.

When Bakugo finally gathers his energy, he opens his eyes, blinking uncomfortably at the harsh lights of the living room. There’s warm cum now cooling all over his hands and the coffee table in front of him, only adding to the list of things he has to clean up after your little home invasion.

Sighing, Bakugo stands up, grabbing a tissue and wiping the traces of his release away.

It’s a little humiliating.

Yet another day of having to imagine you writhing under him to get off.

Bakugo won’t admit it— he never will— but honestly, it’s not as bad as he makes it out to be.

But he knows the real thing will be better.

Now, if only he could get his hands on you…

a/n yeah so i rewrote this whole thing on 4 hours of sleep so its prob shit and the formatting is wonky but whatevs.

STAN ENHYPEN STREAM SWEET VENOM (ENG VER)

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #mha smut #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #bakugo fic #dynamight #bakugo katsuki #bakugou smut

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saintescuderia · 16 days

Text

pancakes (pt. 4)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :)

A/N: apologies if this isn't 100%. i wrote this in between travelling to japan to attend suzuka. and then i got sick and couldn't even go lol.

P4 - L-sits and pull-ups

Charles Leclerc was known for being a nice guy.

All the boys knew it. Lando experienced it when he saw how Charles was genuine with service staff whenever they went somewhere. Alex had experienced it in how Charles treated his family, leaving the F1 boys to spend time with Arthur whenever F2 joined the schedule - or when his mother visited the Paddock. Whereas George had just done a quick FaceTime to his mother on Mother’s Day, Charles had sent Pascale Leclerc a luxury basket with a surprise yacht trip and a massage.

“She was having a bad week.” The Monegasque reasoned when the boys found out.

Pierre’s PS5 was a result of Charles’ kindness; sourcing it for his upset friend who had missed the drop. Max's apartment was a result of Charles' kindness; helping him look for places in his home city for the Dutchman looking to buy property in the foreign Monaco. Max owed Charles a lot.

If not for his apartment, then for his F1 seat.

Mercedes were taking too long. Charles knew someone at Red Bull's junior team who could help him score an interview with Helmut Marko. And when you told Charles to stop being so nice to Max after all the drama that happened in F2, he shrugged and said it was the nice thing to do.

So you, a Torro Rosso trainer, helped Max Verstappen with an interview.

Because Charles was kind and he asked you.

And there was nothing you wouldn't do for Charles Leclerc.

Charles’ circles especially were all aware of you before he even joined the grid. It was just that sort of thing. Everyone knows everyone in motorsports. All those boys had seen you hanging around him at the karting races. Were it not for the stark difference in appearance, some might’ve thought you were family. Some did. Because for the longest time, that’s what you and Charles were. Family.

You were always there for him. You celebrated him when he won. You supported him when he didn’t. You were always the first person he went to when he finished his race. Not his parents, not Jules, not anyone - you.

He would come to you and you would quickly repeat some key English phrases for the interviewers who would surely come for him. You would pat him on the back and offer a warm smile - no matter the result - and offer some feedback based on what you saw. Performance was your speciality after all.

Then, after everything, you guys would finish with a homemade plate of your pancakes. No matter what. That’s how it went and how it would always go.

Until 2018.

That had been a shit fucking show of a year. The rookie trio had been super confused when they finally arrived at F1 and saw you dressed as Hospitality. Charles gave no answer to Lando, Alex or George, no explanation to why he barely acknowledged you. It had been Pierre, the one who had been there through it all, who had quietly explained to them what had happened.

For a while, Alex had a hard time talking to Max when he found out.

Charles hadn’t been surprised that the grid had found out. Nothing ever stayed a secret in this fucking place. NDAs were a joke. The whole agreement between him and Charlotte had been unearthed by some lower ranking Ferrari employee who didn’t know how to keep shut. Then again, Charles had expected it to come out eventually. Half the drivers were dating for PR anyway.

Ferrari were already on his case about finding a new replacement, a pretty girlfriend for him to post boyfriend material pictures with so it can ‘increase his numbers’ with the female fanbase. Since Drive To Survive had done well to popularise the sport with a whole new demographic of F1 fans, teams were trying to capitalise on this as much as possible. Charles quietly suspected that this was part of the reason why Ferrari approached Carlos.

That and they probably wanted to get rid of Seb as quickly as possible after he found out what happened between to you and raged.

Though, Charles could understand Seb’s stance on it. He himself was conflicted about it, half the time unsure if he had made the right call to listen to Mattia. He had just been hurt and upset and his father had just passed away and the press had been vicious and Charles was just desperate to fulfil his dream of getting the coveted seat.

Well, your joint dream.

It had been the dream of the both of you. It was why you worked just as hard as he did. You had taught him English. He had taught you Italian. He networked and raced. You built cars and trained. He had helped you get a job in Torro Rosso. You had helped him get a seat in Alfa Romeo.

Which, of course, led to him getting a spot in Scuderia Ferrari.

Except by the time he was putting on the red, you two were no longer speaking to one another. Or, he was no longer speaking to you and you finally accepted he had cut you off. Gone were the days where he was searching the crowds for your face, rushing to you after the race finished.

Six years ago, he stopped eating pancakes.

He knew you still made them, of course. And not because pancakes had been your everyday breakfast since you both turned fourteen and you started weightlifting and tracking your macros. He knew because he had seen some Alpine reserve driver eating them.

His name was Oscar Jack Piastri. F2 Champion who also won F3 and the Renault Cup. He had more trophies than anyone else his age. For a moment, Charles thought it was because you back training drivers and were working with him.

Arthur later refuted this when Charles was grilling him that no, you weren't training Oscar Piastri. You actually hadn’t had much interaction with him when you would come down to F2.

“Does this mean you’re talking to Y/N again?” Arthur had asked, assuming that’s why Charles was asking about you. “Can we be friends with her again?”

“No.”

“You know maman still doesn’t believe what happened.”

Charles was known for being a nice guy, but he hung up on his brother. Charles really was one of the kinder drivers, but when Alex told them about the tweet, he had scoffed and sneered. When Oscar Piastri himself arrived in orange and held his hand out to greet the nice Monacoan driver, Charles glared and kept his arms crossed. Fuck this. He was not going to shake Oscar Piastri’s fucking hand.

Even though, deep down, Charles knew there was no need for this. Arthur had confirmed that Oscar really was just a really talented driver - Y/N hadn’t trained him. This was no Max Verstappen situation.

Moreover, it wasn’t like Charles was in Daniel Ricciardo’s position.

If it weren't for the million cameras recording the first meeting of the two Australian drivers, Charles could only imagine Daniel's reaction to the rookie. It was one thing that Oscar essentially took Ricciardo's seat.

The other was that everyone had seen him with you.

Admittedly, Daniel had a reason to not want to shake Oscar’s hand, Charles could reason. Even if he still thought Ricciardo was an espèce de putain merde for what he did to you.

Still, Charles couldn’t explain it. He wouldn’t explain it. He didn’t need to. The grid had so far understood it perfectly fine; you don’t go near Y/N. When Logan had joined the grid, Alex had the good sense to quietly fill him in on what had happened.

Why the fuck couldn’t Lando do the same?

Which brings us to right now: Bahrain 2023. A control unit failure meant a DNF for his first race of the season. When is this bad luck going to end? Charles retired his car, managing to make it past the McLaren garage on his way to the Ferrari red at the end of the Pit Lane.

It was just as well that his car was slowing to a stall. It meant that he managed to catch a glimpse of the McLaren garage - and the naive Australian rookie stood with a plate in his hands, very clearly eating some pancakes.

Charles almost drove into a mechanic.

It was 3am. $uicideboy$ was playing through your headphones. You weren’t wearing any shoes.

This could only mean one thing: you were doing calisthenics.

Your arms were shaking slighting as you bent your elbows and tucked your legs in before straightening them. Your grip on the parallette bars was slipping but you engaged your core tighter, hoping to keep balanced as you straightened out your legs and held the L-sit position.

Oscar had DNF’ed on lap 13. The media was already going wild with questions about his decision to ditch Alpine for McLaren and whether or not this was just karma. McLaren looked horrible. Even his teammate had finished 17th. No matter your feelings on the young Brit, even you had to admit Lando Norris was a decent driver.

During the course of pre-season preparations, wind had carried the gossip that Zak Brown had revealed the car to the team earlier this year with a sub-par level of enthusiasm. Whilst it wasn’t uncommon for cars to arrive at Sakhir with plans for future upgrades… you hadn’t thought it would be this bad. For McLaren. At this rate, the MCL60 was looking like a back of the field car.

What’s more the team was struggling. One only needed to look at their qualifying session to see how bad it had been. Engineers giving mixed reports. Oscar’s radio not working and getting out in Q1. Lando getting mixed tyres and getting out in Q2. A whole ass clusterfuck, in your opinion.

And Daniel had been there, smiling smug whenever the camera decided to pan to the Red Bull garage.

The song changed in your headphones. Your arm strained. You dropped, fell forward. Cue the stream of expletives that would’ve made even Guenther blush.

You knew that going to the gym after the race had finished up - a night race that - was going to mess up your sleep schedule. However, you were too wired after everything to go to sleep. You needed the dopamine rush. There was too much going on for you to process any other way.

Because, firstly, you needed to get rid of the image of Daniel’s smug smirk that was currently etched into your brain.

You had skipped your post-dinner protein shake and had your coffees black today. You had started your session with a series of HIIT sprints on the treadmill before you did as many pull ups as your body would allow. It had been quite some time since you had done calisthenics training so religiously but you were already internally creating a new program for yourself.

That is, you were already mentally preparing for the cut you had decided to undertake the moment Daniel Ricciardo had walked into the gym after finding out he'd lost his seat. And blame you for it.

You pushed yourself up off the ground and came to your parallette bars again. You grabbed each one and then lifted yourself up again. You closed your eyes and willed your brain to focus purely on the lactic acid running through your body.

Because, secondly, you were stressing more than you should about Charles’ DNF.

You had watched the testing sessions carefully. You always did. Always keeping an eye out on the red car with the black T cam. Charles hadn’t done too bad but, obviously, it was hard to give a genuine judge. Everyone always sandbagged.

For example, Red Bull didn’t look as strong in testing, but then came out on race day and finished as they did. You could be happy for Max, especially since Jos was in attendance and knew just what that meant… but you also knew how it would look for Ferrari that Carlos had finished fourth and Charles hadn’t even finished the race.

The car did look strong through. That was evident by how Ferrari had done in qualifying. Charles had out qualified Carlos, a narrow Ferrari 3-4 behind a Red Bull 1-2. However, your former childhood best friend had a bad luck streak unlike anything you had ever witnessed.

And even though the word ‘former’ was in the equation, you never liked seeing Charles like this. Even if he was likely the reason no one in the grid spoke to you anymore.

Well, until now.

Because, thirdly, Oscar Piastri threw a spanner in the works.

You knew how it was going to look. You knew. It was one thing for you to interact this closely with a driver. It was another thing entirely for you to unofficially train him. However, as Zak Brown had found out, there was no way you could be allowed to join McLaren as a performance trainer for Oscar.

When the young driver had filled you in about his meetings with Zak Brown and his particular stipulation, you called him an idiot and told him to sign. When Oscar filled you in about his new plan to be able to work alongside you through all the loopholes his father's lawyer found, you called him an idiot and told him it wasn't worth it.

"I beg to differ. If you don't want to, that's fine. But not because of whatever drama happened."

He knew the drama. It was impossible that a team principle had looked into having you as his driver 's trainer and not found out what had happened. It was also impossible that Oscar Piastri, former Prema driver - as in, former Arthur Leclerc teammate - and current teammate to loose tongue Lando, didn't know about you and Charles.

You had honestly just waited for the moment he would bring it up. He never did.

Because Oscar, you were coming to learn, was far more level-headed and mature than most the drivers on this grid. And he was so young. You didn't want to see anyone fuck that up. You really, really didn't.

Still, you said no.

Then a week later you saw that fucking tractor make him DNF.

You leaned forward and brought yourself down into a handstand, counting to ten before bending your elbows and lowering yourself slowly. You lifted yourself up and then tucked your legs once more. Your whole body was shaking more and more know but and you fought to breathe through it. You finally lowered yourself and let out a deep huff. Whilst you weren't pleased with how out of practice you were, you were a little pleased that you finally managed to lower yourself - instead of falling down.

You looked ahead at the mirrors and then saw a familiar face of the driver walking into the gym. Oscar dropped his gym bag near yours and went straight to the treadmill to warm up. You kept your eyes on him as you held yourself up on the parallettes and watched the young driver fiddle with his phone and earphones before starting a light jog.

You took a moment before you pulled yourself up and went over to him. Oscar met your eyes as he continued to jog. He pulled down earphone but you said nothing as you pressed the button to increase the speed. Oscar raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"45 seconds on. 15 seconds off. 20 repetitions." You said. Oscar nodded and put his earphone back in. You shook your head. He frowned and pulled them down.

"You don't drive with music so don't play anything." You said. "Feeling something in your ear needs to become second nature."

He nodded and you went to his phone and pressed pause. Then you made a voice when you noticed that Ed Sheeran was playing.

"Don't judge me." Oscar said.

"I am. You're working out to fucking Ed Sheeran." You responded with a scrunched nose. Oscar shook his head, smiling slightly, but said nothing else. In the silence, you observed his form and counted his breaths. You noticed slight irregularity with his inhale and exhales and immediately pulled him up on it.

And so you spent the rest of the night training Oscar Piastri.

By the time you both finished, and he gave you a tired and sweaty high five, the clock read five thirteen in the morning.

taglist: @eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3 @hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams @itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19

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easy-there-leftovers · 6 months

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Hiii can I just say I’m OBSESSED with ISY,D!! Amazing work truly the best ❤️

I saw asks are open so I thought I’d slip in a little prompt 👀

Astarion and Tav have a bit of a spat at camp. Tav is trying to convince Astarion that ascending would make him just as bad as Cazador, but Astarion craves the power and the freedom. Tav, upset and frustrated, ends up leaving for a walk through the late night streets of the gate to clear their head. One of the vampire spawn out looking for their next prey find Tav, recognizing them immediately as Astarion’s love (and one true weakness) and kidnaps them to bring to Cazador. Cazador, being the sick fuck he is, locks Tav away and sends a note to Astarion that he finds the next morning, saying that he had Tav and that if Astarion wants them back he has to surrender to Cazador and go through with the ceremony. Astarion loses his mind and races to the castle with the gang in tow, praying that Tav is unharmed. Will he be there just in time to save Tav? Or will he be too late, will Cazador have already turned them by the time he gets there?

Sorry for the paragraph but this has been in my mind for DAYS and I would cry if you could make this story come to fruition ❤️

-🌸

Hello 🌸anon!! Thank you so much for liking the series, I'm glad that it's something that you enjoy reading! Also, I've decided to include @simp-4-astarion's request as they were rather similar in nature!! Thank you so much for liking my work :,DDD

In addition!! Just a heads up for people who'd like to request or send an idea in, I don't just write for Astarion! Feel free to include your favorite romanceable pcs (and non romanceable npcs lol) into the mix!!

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

That night at camp had been fraught with tension, like a fraying rope ready to snap. The campfire crackled, the tongues of the flame dancing and flickering about, mirroring the storm within the heated pair.

Your voice, something that he's come to find solace in as of late, quivered with frustration unlike any he's heard directed at him before as you tried to reason with him.

"I don't relish it. but my," He pauses, wondering what he should call them. "--Siblings lured thousands of people to their death over the years. I doubt Baldur's Gate would miss any of them." He seems rather taken with the idea, and you worry about what this could mean for him.

"But we don't even know if it's possible, Astarion. You're hypothesizing that you become the Vampire Ascended at the expense of eradicating the other spawn." Whether or not they had done things as horrendous as your,-- gods you don't even know what you are,-- as the ex-magistrate, they did not deserve to be subjected to such a ritual.

He paces around you, ascertaining your reactions, and making quick work to think about how he could convince you

"And so what? I've obviously thought about it. If I completed the ritual, this evocation, I'd have insurmountable power. And--" He nears himself to you, practically whispering the following words into the skin of you neck. As if anything he said would etch its way into your skin and carve you anew.

"I could walk in the sun without fear of becoming a mindflayer. Don't you want that for me, darling? For us?" The question instills an indescribable fear in you. Not the same fear that's been riddling you as you wonder if you'd perish in one of your many battles, but the fear you'd witness when you lost something dear to you.

It's as if he's giving you an out.

Agree with him, and you seal his fate as the Vampire Ascendant with a sure place at his side.

Or disagree, allowing all those spawn the same chance he had been given all those tendays ago, and snuff out whatever growing relationship you had between you.

He senses your uncertainty. And he feels lost. He figured that you would be so sure to keep him at your side. Doing anything it takes to make sure it stays that way, but now you're getting cold feet with his blatant proposal of companionship because of what?

These monsters he's hunted with?

These damned spawn that represent everything you've seeked to correct about the world?

"Astarion, please, give them a chance. They were just like you once, give them that much."

At any other time, he would've admired your efforts to help them. But in this moment, he thinks you a fool who could never truly understand what it means to be a slave and to want for power.

"You did not know them. And you do not know me as well as you may think, my dear, if you think they deserve a chance more than I do."

He doesn't know why it all happened the way it did. The way that his thoughts came tumbling out of his mouth and only allowing the worst of things to escape him.

All he knows was that it had surely hurt you and that he doesn't think he's ever seen your retreating form look as small as it did as you walked towards somewhere in the city.

And that he wished he had remembered where they were. So near to where his consanguines and he used to hunt.

So when he and the others are greeted with a letter smelling of undeath, telling them that they had their precious leader imprisoned in Cazadaor's manor, he knows not to tell them about the little argument you two had.

Knows not to tell them anything to dampen their mood as they search for you.

Knows not to tell them that the likelihood he kept you alive was slim to none, now that he has Astarion's attention.

Once they had been alerted of your whereabouts, a clear ploy to lure him back to his master, there would be no use for you anymore. They don't know Cazador like he did, and he was sure that by the time they reached their destination, you would be no more.

Stil, he's willing to take any chance he can get to get you back. No use in proclaiming you dead if he hasn't seen you, and he'd be damned if he let Cazador take any more from him.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

#astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin x tav #baldur's gate 3 x reader

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

Note

Hi! I LOVE the way u write leo valdez and was wondering if u could do an x reader fic where she gets accepted to her dream college? Im manifesting lol 🤞🤞much love xx

OMG YES I'M MORE THAN HAPPY TOO!! ANYTHING FOR YOU ANON-

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ College Girls Do It Better, Duh!!

content: leo valdez x fem! reader warning: language, like the smallest amount of angst ig, stress and anxiety (the poster children of senior year) author's note: hi little miss anon!! congratulations on being my first ask by the way!! anyways, as someone who is currently fighting for my life to get through this last stretch of senior year, I feel year. I applied to my dream college since eighth grade early decision all the way back in november and got deferred. and i know this might be hard to hear and i know i didn't believe it at the time, but it was honestly one of the best things that ever happened to me. It allowed me to take a deep dive on who i am as a person and find actually interests outside of just that school. now, i've been accepted to another college in the same city (boston girl 4 eva) with a scholarship that covers more than half of my tuition and under a major I actually want to pursue (marine biology with a minor in journalism for anyone who was curious). ANYWAYS i've yapped on long enough and you're not even here for this little ted talk of mine. please carry on and i hope you enjoy this little bad boy i whipped up.

this was it: senior year. everything added up to this. finally! we’re in the homestretch, folks! gods, on top of stopping the world from ending every other summer, y/n had to keep good grades up too. she was more than ready to trade leo’s sweaters for a cap and gown, counting down the days to graduation. a break would have been greatly appreciated but the fates were never that kind. well, they were kind enough to give her leo, so they couldn’t be all that bad in her eyes. though, the pressure was starting to make y/n crack in ways she didn’t expect; the pressure that comes with college acceptances and, sadly, rejections. she felt like she was falling behind a bit, a lump growing in her throat and her chest tightening at every acceptance letter her friends got. of course, she was overjoyed for them and she’d buy them cupcakes and celebrate their accomplishments but she couldn’t help but wonder when it would be her turn. i mean, she slaved away over her college essay, she maintained the best grades she could, did all of the extracurriculars she could manage, on top of being a two-time saver of the world. something she, sadly, could not tell colleges. well, she told new rome university, but she figured they got a lot of letters like that. but, for now, y/n just waited…and waited…and then waited some more just for shits and giggles.

“today’s the day, right?” jason questioned as he walked with y/n towards their civics class. y/n swallowed thickly, nodding her head, although a bit reluctantly.

“y-yeah, early decision round two comes out today for new rome. now, no more talking about it or i’ll pass out," y/n told him and jason laughed, bumping his shoulder with her gently.

“come on, give yourself a fair shake. they’d be stupid not to-”

“don’t jinx it!! go find some wood to knock on, sparky,” the girl ordered in a panic and jason quickly rapped his knuckles against a door as they passed, the poor ceramics teacher peeking her head out to find no one waiting.

“okay, okay, no bad juju,” y/n muttered to herself following the boy's actions, taking a few calming breaths. jason gave her a sympathetic look as they took their seats, rubbing his hand gently over her tense shoulders. their eyes both went to the empty seat next to y/n before turning to each other with tiny smirks.

“i bet he’ll get here just as the bell rings,” mused y/n, trying to rid herself of her anxiety with humor. jason pretended to think it over, before holding his hand out.

“nah, he’s gotta be at least ten minutes late today,” countered jason and y/n shook his hand with a determined look. as the pair's eyes stayed locked on the clock, mere seconds before the bell would ring, leo came waltzing to the class, an iced coffee held in one hand and his keys swinging around in the other. mr. wright glaring at the boy, knowing he couldn’t give him the tardy he so desperately wanted to. leo made his way to his seat, kissing y/n’s cheek as he sat. y/n’s smile widened and her stress and anxiety began to melt away.

“for little miss smartie pants here,” he hummed, sliding the drink in front of her with a wink. y/n took a sip, shaking her head at him as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“lots of talk coming from someone who’s already been accepted with honors,” replied y/n, jokingly glaring at him though she couldn’t stop a proud smile from spreading over her lips. leo had a habit of underestimating himself and when he got accepted into new rome university on a scholarship to boot, he couldn’t really ignore it anymore. y/n was his number one supporter, buying him shirts and lanyards and pennant flags. leo rolled his eyes, slinging his arm over the back of her seat.

“they’d be stupid not to accept-”

“knock on wood right now!! what is with you guys trying to curse me?!” y/n bit out, shoving the boy in the direction of the wooden desk. leo knocked his knuckles against it whilst sharing a look with jason, who just shrugged.

“i’m just saying-”

“mr. valdez! if you’re just going to show up to disrupt my class, do not continue to show up!” mr. wright called, narrowing his eyes at the trio.

“sorry, mr. wright, but i do kinda need this class to graduate. if i didn’t, i guarantee you i would not be here right now,” joked leo, earning laughs from the rest of the class. mr. wright’s eye twitched as he stared at the boy before grumbling under his breath and returning to his lecture. leo held his head high after that, knowing he’d won for today.

the rest of the day seemingly flew past, y/n anxiously and constantly checking her email. after lunch, she sort of relaxed, somehow managing to convince herself that the email wasn’t going to come today and she’d just worry about it some other day. but, as she sat in her seventh period class, her phone buzzed on her desk. she didn’t think anything of it, determined to finish another math problem before she allowed herself a phone break. then her phone buzzed a few more times, her attention being dragged away from her math homework at the borderline constant buzzing. she huffed, picking up her phone before her eyes went wide and her breath tumbled out of her lips.

there on her phone she had an email from new rome university which read, ‘today’s the day! log into your student portal as your status has been updated.’ under that, and the root of the near constant buzzing, were texts from all her friends. leo was typing in all-caps, something about running to her class at the moment. her group chat with frank, hazel, and piper, the three other people who applied in the same decision group as her, had multiple texts about wanting to throw up and being too nervous to open it. annabeth had sent a text too, something about y/n being one of the smartest and sweetest people she knew and no college acceptance or rejection could change that.

ignoring all of them and feeling like she was in a haze, y/n unlocked her phone and got to work logging into her student portal and watching the spinning circle as she waited for it to load. bam! welcome screen, nothing new so far. y/n continued to breath, though she knew it was unsteady as she placed a hand against her chest, hoping to regulate her rapid heartbeat, which she could feel in her toes and hear in her ears. then she noticed a little hyperlink, informing her that her status had been updated. her finger hovered over it as hazel updated that she’d been accepted, promptly being followed by frank and piper. y/n squeezed her eyes shut, swiping away their messages and slamming her finger down onto the link. more waiting and then it finally loaded. she scrolled slowly, wanting to ease herself into rejection…

dear y/n l/n,

on behalf of new rome university, we are pleased to inform you that you’ve been accepted. congratulations! furthermore, we’d like offer you a scholarship for academic integrity, blah blah blah

wait- did that say accepted?! y/n’s eyes did a double take, which was growing increasingly more difficult as tears were starting to pool. her hands shook and she promptly stood up from her chair, muttering about needing the bathroom to the teacher before basically bolting out of the class. she moved quickly down the hall, her eyes darting around wildly until she heard the stomping of feet and the squeak of rubber on linoleum. leo rounded a corner at the other end of the hall, his eyes instantly focusing on the girl, on his girl. without a second thought, the two of them sprinted to each other, basically slamming against the other as they met in the middle. leo’s arms wrapped around her frantically, unsure of the verdict but wanting her in his arms either way. y/n curled into him easily, crying against his shirt, tears of joy but he didn’t know that.

“so?” leo whispered after a moment, cupping her tear-stained cheeks and looking down at her with what could only be described as unfiltered love. y/n looked at him before cracking a small smile through her tears.

“i got in. i- i got in, oh my gods, i got in!” she stated, growing more excited everytime she said it.

“duh! my clever girl! ooh, my clever college girl!” leo cheered, smirking down at her. y/n laughed, shoving him off as she reached up and wiped away some of her tears.

“whatever, you absolute hammer head.”

“there’s no getting rid of me now, baby. you’re stuck with me. wooo, we’re going to college together!” added leo, smiling down at her in genuine excitement. y/n looked up at him and leo could have sworn his bmp spiked, even after all these years.

“wouldn’t have it any other way,” she mused, reaching up and cupping his face before pulling him down so she could press her lips against his. easily, his hands found her waist and pulled her closer, as her arms draped over his shoulders.

the bell rang, school being out for the day, and as students flooded the halls, leo let go of his girlfriend and cupped his hands around his lips, screaming: “MY HOT ASS GIRLFRIEND JUST GOT ACCEPTED INTO A PRESTIGIOUS ASS SCHOOL! THAT’S MY GIRL RIGHT THERE!”

author's note cont. : I know what your all thinking, how could she possibly have more to say?!?! HA you underestimate my ability to yap. anyways, on a more serious note, I'm wishing you, anon and anyone else who needs to hear it, the best of best luck with colleges and whatnot. They'd be stupid to reject you and i'll proudly shove you all in my suitcase and take you to college with me. jk...unless. No, fr tho, don't let a rejection define you! Fate is fickle and will find a way to treat you to the life you deserve, don't forget it!! Anyways, now that I spent my whole night slaving away over this, I am off to bed, hope you guys enjoy and have great days!!

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #jason grace #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #pjo

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killstarrs · 19 days

Text

nsfw alphabet with hamzah!

cw: uh like everything very nsfw

aftercare- biiiiig aftercare man. he makes sure you’re all good and gets you water. he needs to be HELDDD loves to just lay in your arms after the deed. eventually falls asleep from you rubbing his back

body part- his favorite body part of his is probably his arms. he loves when you hold onto his biceps, it makes him feel all manly lol

he doesn’t really have a favorite for you, he loves it all lol. lives your thighs and hips and if you workout he looooooves your muscles. thinks they’re really hot.

cum- LOVES to cum in you and watch it drip out (slight breeding kink lols) but if you’re not using birth control then definitely in your mouth or on your stomach.

dirty secret- steals your panties. this man is a perv 100% and will steal your panties to jerk off to them. and he acts all surprised when you notice that some pairs have gone missing. he be all like “whaaaat thats wiiilddddd”

experience- he had never had sex before you. he had kissed one girl in high-school but nothing after that so you have to break him in a little

favorite position- looves when you ride him. like lives for it. but if you’re tired that day he doesn’t mind missionary!

goofy- tries to be to calm his own nerves but it just comes across like he’s nervous (which he most definitely is). depends on the day really. if yall are drunk/stoned he is really goofy. always giggling.

hair- he’s well groomed. very conscious about it at first but then he knows you dont rlly care. he doesnt care how shaven you are as long as he gets some ass lol

intimacy- again, he starts off goofy but then hes like “oh they fr want to fuck me” and he locks in😭😭 loves for you to look him in the eye while riding him. also loves to make out while feeling each other up.

jack off- he jerks off regularly but then he meets you and he’s horny 24/7 so he does it wayyyy more often. even before y’all start dating he’s thinking of you and touching himself :((

kink- biiiiiiiiiiig praise kink, but mostly receiving. he needs to be told he’s making you feel good, it makes him 10000% hornier.

location- preferably the bedroom but doesn’t mind car sex. he likes watching the windows fog up lolz

motivation- anything you do. like anything. but usually its when he sees you concentrating on one thing really hard, he pictures that you’re looking at him like that and it gets him all hot and bothered

NO- no gross shit. also doesn’t like tying you down or restricting you.

oral- he’s a munch and i will die on this hill. i’ve said this before but he could spend hours between your thighs. he gets off on it. when he gets head though he’s a crier 100%. constant rambling because it feels too good to keep quiet.

pace- you have to go slow with him the first couple of times so he doesn’t cum too fast :((. it all depends on how fast you want to go tho! he will hang on the edge for hours just for you.

quickie- not big on them. prefers that you take your time

risk- he will freak the freak out if someone catches him subbing. needs people to think he’s manly.

stamina- needs a lil break after but can do 4-5 rounds a night. again, he will sit between your legs for years so he only stops when you’re ready.

toy- loves when you use your vibrator on him. he never thought it would feel so good. also the pervy part of him likes to watch you use it on yourself

unfair- he’s not much of a tease, he’ll give you what you want when you want it. but he loooooves when you tease him.

volume- LOUD. constantly rambling nonsense and cant keep quiet. whimpers when you tease him and MOAAAAANNNNNSSS.

wild card- loves dry humping SO MUCH.

x-ray- a good 6-7 inches. not too much not too little, and he knows how to use it

yearning- he is always ready to fuck dude. before yall start dating he wants you so bad it physically hurts

ZZZ- like i said for the aftercare part, he makes sure you’re taken care of then falls asleep in your arms.

#hamzahthefantastic #slushynoobz #hamzah x reader

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thesirencult · 6 months

Text

PAC READING: YOUR DIVINE FEMININE'S AURA

Discussing your feminine's general aura and characteristics. Friendly for both men and girls/theys who like girls. You can also pick it to see how your aura is as a feminine ❤️

Book your reading by sending me a private message xoxo S.

Pile 1

7 of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, 10 of swords

Your DF has the aura of a sweet herbal witch. She lives in her little cabin in the woods and like a fairy she works on perfecting her craft. Greens and purples look great on her.

This is a slow and steady energy. This is someone who loves taking their time. She loves learning and implementing her skills. Making coffee becomes a daily ritual and same goes as washing the dishes.

Her attention to detail is immaculate and that can drive you crazy sometimes but you know that with all that good comes some bad. Very well presented, you can take her anywhere and all eyes will be on her. Very earthy, stable and focused on building a foundation for all things practical before she jumps onto commitment.

Her steady "working on myself" attitude stems from getting backstabbed one too many times. She knows that she has to build herself up and after that all her dreams will manifest. She is into self development and may love going through that tag on Tumblr. She may even be a blogger herself.

She is investing in herself and doesn't shy away from learning about accounting or law. Nothing will stand on her way to that cute fairy cottage *aggressive cute walk* 😉.

Pile 2

9 of pentacles, queen of swords, the magician

Whoever has this DF as a counterpart or has that aura, WOW. Miss Independent. A handful. We love seeing that *sprinkle, sprinkle* here. CEO. That's C-Suite energy!

This woman is someone powerful and dominant. Like a race horse you will always bet on because you KNOW, it will always come first 😉 (pun intended). She works very very hard for what she wants and similar to pile 1 she can be in accounting, finance and law. Good with numbers and her hands. I bet she has a dirty sense of humour.

From the first moment you see her you will know she is the real deal. Others blend in the background while she power walks in the room. Penetrating stare and red bottom high heels, her allure is different. She doesn't have to show dominance, others feel that she is the boss. Mami energy. Ferocious when someone comes for her loved ones. She could even be in law enforcement.

Red and brown. Symbolising high energy that's still grounded and serious. Do not cross her.

Pile 3

King Of Swords, Knight Of Wands, Ace Of Swords

Now, this one? A handful ! Try to tie her down. You just can't. A brat.

This person is very fluid. They don't care about terms and conditions. They are highly intelligent and her mind walks a thin line between spirituality and logic. The most unconventional, they will find a solution no one sees yet it's right in front of them. Highly intellectual and well versed in philosophy and math.

This reminds of a movie with James Franco where he played a start up founder who was into spirituality. A crazy genius. A party is a party and they will be there.

Partying in Ibiza? They've done that. Phuket for a Muay Thai Camp? That did that last year! Eiffel tower to try a croissant with pistachio filling? They just got back yesterday and guess what? They hate pistachios.

This person is the type to run a start up company focused on clean energy and when shit hits the fun they will call an astrologer and ask for recommendations. They respect everyone. They will listen to your mom and dad when they talk about their days and take mental notes of great ideas. They know great ideas come from the most unconventional places and fields.

Pile 4

Page Of Cups, Page Of Swords, The Fool (5 Of Swords + 8 Of Swords + 5 Of Pentacles flew out)

This can be my age difference pile. They will run you to the ground lol.

This is someone with lots of mental capacity. You ask them about World War II and they will tell you how Nazis and Churchill used astrology and why the war happened and after 5 hours you will be listening to them about Ancient Mesopotamia. "How did we get here?" You will think.

Well, it doesn't matter cause you love listening to their voice and their warm heartfelt laugh. They look innocent and pure and even if they try to intimidate you you will let them think they can but in reality they look like a cinnamon roll and they are a cinnamon roll. Their life was not the best and they have lots of trust issues. They may look innocent but their eyes hide a painful past. Like a kitten thrown out and left out in the cold they feel lost and unappreciated.

You listening to them means the world and you will be shocked at how appreciative they are and how loving with you. They are very romantic and they may have great expectations and daydreams about their love life.

I get that you might start off as friends and meet in a very random way on a daily run or while getting groceries or a tire changed. You will immediately fall in love with them and they will seem like they don't suspect a thing. Let me tell you, they know, they are just too scared to show their feelings and until you grab them and kiss em you won't know how much passion is brewing underneath this innocent and clever facade. They might turn into pile number 2 in a few years lol.

Ready for everything, you will always be a warm embrace and their home when they come back from exploration. You will love how they yawn while reading a book and how they stretch when they wake up showing revealing their tummy. They are cute to you, even if everyone else sees them differently, that's how you view them. They might be a black mysterious cat but you think of them as a tired little kitten waiting for a safe home that will accept them as they are.

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #future spouse

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kanmom51 · 5 months

Text

Jikook in Japan November 2023

What we have so far.

First thing first, I want to thank all of you for your good wishes in the comments to my last post. I did miss you guys, and I'm hopefully on the mend, if not fully there yet.

So, JM and JK in Japan. Do we all see just how big that is? We know just how important their trip was in 2018, they told us all about it ever since. And now we have them travelling to Japan again, one last trip before enlistment. Together. They spend time in Tokyo (we know cause they flew into Tokyo - great detective work going on here - and the pics that JM posted on his IG - and I'll get to that soon too). But they are also travelled to Sapporo, where they are right now. Sapporo, where this happened back in 2016, just to remind you all.

Anyways, let's go back a sec to their departure. Cause why not, really?

As they walked into the terminal JM signalling JK to come in closer to him.

And after going through the departure doors while waiting for their security check.

Same same...

JM came to us last night posting on IG with two "my boyfriend too my photo" pics.

Are they doing a walk down memory lane? Is JM sending us down memory lane? I mean, let's get real here. They know. They see it all. They knew about the threats and hate preceding their trip, they know about Jikookers talking up this trip, Jikookers love of GCFT. And in saying that, was his choice of pics posted just random or purposeful? My bet is on the latter. Everything JM does is thought out. That is, until he has JK standing right in front of him. That's when he loses control, lol. And that, my friends, is why JM is unwilling (and probably rightfully so, as hard as this is for me to admit) to go live with JK. I kind of think that JK realised the same of late, after that live tiddy grab, lol.

JM posted at 11:44 pm or 23:44 pm. And here are the numbers.

I'm done with "it's a coincidence", cause it is not. It wasn't when JK started lives at 11:08. It wasn't when JK posted his letter to Army at 6:13. And it's not now either. At this point that's what I believe. Take it or leave it.

And just incase those that saw them leaving for Japan and are still struggling to come to terms that perhaps the two are literally travelling together, we had someone that saw them together in said restaurant eating together, sitting at a table for 2 (and not for the lack of bigger tables available at the restaurant).

We also saw the two leaving for Sapporo. Of course, again, said very 'nice' - NOT - people having a field day with them not caught in one frame on their way out of Tokyo.

And I guess just for these 'nice' people's benefit (not really, but am I a bad petty person for being glad they got this right in their faces??) we had the two arriving in Sapporo TOGETHER.

Also looks familiar.

And did I mention the matchy matchy grey coloured sweatshirts?

At this point nothing surprises me anymore.

So Sapporo. A winter paradise. A city known for it's beer and breweries. The city that recognized same sex marriages. A known couples destination.

There have been sightings. And they are mostly keeping the information to themselves at the moment, seeing that the two are still in Japan. But, point being the two aren't hiding it. They are out in the open, together, enjoying themselves.

I know that they are having the time of their lives.

I know they are creating cherished memories for years to come.

I know that they are and will be happy!!!

I know that.

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #JK #Jimin #JM #Jikook Japan

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sergle · 6 months

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People are failing to realize that clothing, and cameras for that matter, can be fairly deceptive. I don't wanna say deceptive because it carries a certain connotation, but I hope you'll know what I mean. I look fairly "thin/avg" with a shirt on, but without it it's rolls and folds lol

Furthermore, it's wild to assume someone who's pretty passionate about accurate plus-size rep would be stick thin. Maybe their metric of "average" is skewed or something, but it's still weird to just show up in a strangers Asks and assume things about them and their bodies.

sorry for answering an ask about this like 4 days later but I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT THIS... this person is talking about these asks btw.

FIRST OF ALL, thank you so much for the ask, it really is good to know that other ppl are aware of the Covering Of Fat With Clothing. Like. hi. my body is obscured. people are just noticing my torso for the first time bc there isn't 5lbs of breast tissue hanging off of it. SECOND OF ALL. This is still making me insane. I am still thinking about it so I'm gonna completely just do a brick of text to talk about it. Like, there's the first part of this, right? The fact that, all of these people who were sending asks like these, are the same people who came to my account because they liked the body positivity stuff or they related to the proportions of the girls I draw, right? And yet somehow managed to miss that ALL OF MY ART IS ME. So you're relating to MY body, AGREEING that this is plus sized art, then turning towards moi and saying, okay but you're skinny though. HUH? HMM??? I literally made a 12-part series of self portraits that have been like, my most seen, most stolen, reposted, enjoyed, stolen again, pieces. And I've been so crystal clear that these are literally me. Once again, I'm pointing at the aforementioned MATERIAL.

Pictured above: a thin, skinny woman who just happens to have large breasts, ig! And outside of those, which are *literal* self portraits, I've spoken lots of times before about how I make girls of a certain size and shape because I'm modeling them off myself. Or as close as I can get, depending on how good/bad I feel and if I took a photo to ref or not. It really couldn't be clearer that this is obviously me being self-serving, I do it when I feel like I need to see it. So the thing being implied here, or flat out accused in a handful of messages, is that I'm drawing fat girls forrr clout? AWESOME. I didn't want to dignify every message but that did seem to be the rough consensus. BUT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THAT ONE TOO. WHEN would it become a bad thing for a skinny person to draw body positive art? In a positive light? Even if it was for clout? Am I going insane? That would be Good. It honestly might be even more meaningful than what I'm doing now. If I was actually 115 pounds soaking wet, if I looked like that one girl from ANTM with the like 14 inch waist, and I was out here making the exact same art, would that make the art LESS meaningful to other fat girls? That someone who doesn't have this body type or relate to it at all found it beautiful enough to draw it so many times, treating the subject with respect? Fat people being the subject of art again? The cycling of a trend that's been gone too long? That is, I thought, what we've literally been begging to see. I have been thinking about this. And finally, the last part of it that's been vexing and haunting me:

Is it supposed to be my responsibility that someone gets dysmorphic LOOKING AT ME. HUHHHH. On the art account where I draw a lot of Me. HUH. I was meant to anticipate this? Looking at pictures of me. And that makes you feel dysmorphic. and that is my fault. I'm just double checking. On the account where I draw bodies that I relate to, that you followed because you relate to. And then seeing me. Makes you dysmorphic. Whew. Got it.

I'm putting a bow on my insane winding ramble about this. Or at least trying to, now. It is wild to have my body commented on so much. This year, bc of the breast reduction, comments on my body have increased a hundredfold. Positive, negative, passive aggressive, predatory, all of the ways it can go. There was a really obvious way to rebuff these particular comments, which would be to post a picture of myself where my body ISN'T mostly obscured. But hey, those aren't free. The art will have to do for now. I wouldn't be that surprised if half the messages were jokes meant to see if I'd post pics "proving" that I look how I look. I also thought briefly about like, what if my body did change that drastically? Would some ppl's immediate reaction be betrayal, disgust, anger? I've been sick in my life before and lost weight at alarming speeds. But I've still been fat all my life. I've gotten sick and gained weight at alarming speeds. Does my presence as a "body positive artist" mean that my body gets to be put on trial anytime it changes? Does the switch flip from "your fat art means so much to me" to "you're not in the club anymore, since you got rid of your breasts, you look different"

Anyway I thought it would be funny to draw a thin girl "drawing" a scrap sketch I already have on hand. And imagining someone's response being fully negative, bc a thin person drawing fat ppl would be somehow dishonest lmao. Look how evil this bitch is. Her body doesn't match her art.

#IGNORE ME it does not matter. but I wanted to talk #sergle.txt #I wanted to talk SO BAD.#sergle answers #long post

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leebitkitty · 9 months

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welcome back !! I've missed you sm 🤞

I'd like to ask for dom!jeongin x sub!gn!afab!reader with the prompts:

4: "you're not.. wearing anything under that.. are you?"

8: "you're sitting on my lap, we're friends and I'm hard, I'm sorry."

19: "I'm done being just roommates."

26: "it's late, shouldn't you be asleep?"

46: "fuck, I really need you right now."

48: "if you wanted me so bad you should've said it."

64: "you're driving me crazy right now, you jerk."

65: "I love you."

context: my idea was, jeongin living with his friends; he was crushing on reader and one night, he happens to be awake in the living room when reader goes for a glass of water, they see him; starts prompt 26 and for the rest I trust you <3

Hope its not too much, you can delete some prompts and adapt it as you want to !!

thank you so much for your time <3

– 🍥🍡 or 🍡🍥 Anon (can't remember, it's been a while 😭)

"i knew this would happen one day. us. together."

pairings: dom!jeongin x sub!gn!afab!reader

genre: tiniest bit of angst, smut

note: (its 🍥🍡!!) hi anon!! it has been a while lol i have missed you! i am going to remove prompt 19 since i have done that already😭 also this is like hella short.. and extremely rushed🥰🥰 anyways, please enjoy!

prompts:

4: "you're not.. wearing anything under that.. are you?"

8: "you're sitting on my lap, we're friends, and i'm hard. i'm sorry."

26: "it's late, shouldn't you be asleep?"

46: "fuck, i really need you right now."

48: "if you wanted me so bad you should've said it."

64: "you're driving me crazy right now, you jerk."

65: "i love you."

warnings: explicit sexual content, roomate!jeongin, exhibitionism(?) jeongin has friends over, unprotected sex (be careful), penetrative sex (p in v), cumming inside, unestablished relationship

minors do not interact

"hey y/n, could i invite my friends here for a sleepover?" jeongin calls from the living room, eyes still glued to the tv ever since the morning. "sleepover? yeah, sure, i mean it's your house too," you say from the kitchen, jeongins happy face immediately turning towards you, giving you a big grin as you feel your heart swell at how cute he looked in that moment. "thanks! we won't be too loud, and they'll probably just be in my room anyways," he continues, eyes focusing back to whatever show he was playing.

and that is how you ended up with 8 men in your house. not in his room like he said, but in your living room. hogging the tv at 9pm. to be honest, you were a bit upset at just how many people he had invited. you expected a few friends.. but definitely not 7 people. you sprint to jeongin, who was currently making snacks for everyone in the kitchen. "you didn't tell me you were inviting this many people!!" you whisper-scream. "and they're not even in your room!" you continue, so angry that steam could probably be seen coming out of your ears.

"reeeelaaaax y/n, c'mon. it's not even that many people! they're just having fun," jeongin slurred, obviously drunk out of his mind. you rolled your eyes and angrily stomped back to your room, slamming the door. why were you so angry? you honestly had no idea, and you felt mad at yourself for yelling (kinda) at jeongin when he was just having fun. you turned on the tv in your room to chase your thoughts away, falling asleep a couple hours later.

you wake up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat, your oversized shirt with nothing underneath clung to your body. you rub your eyes and look at the digital clock on your bedside table, reading 12:43pm. you fan yourself off for a bit before getting up off the bed and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. you walk towards the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for some ice for your water. "hey, y/n," jeongin calls out from his spot on the couch. "holy sh-," you nearly yelp out. "you scared me to death, jeongin. it's late, shouldn't you be asleep?" you continue, pouring your water.

"didn't feel like sleeping. my head hurts from the alcohol," he says, scooting over the couch to give you room to sit down. you sit on the couch, turning on the tv as you think. this could possibly be the perfect chance to tell jeongin you like him, you think to yourself. you look at jeongin once more as you scoot closer to him, eventually straddling his lap. to his suprise, he looked up to you, eyes widened, resting his phone on his pants to give you his undivided attention.

"i really need to tell you something," you start, staring into his eyes. "i.. i like you. always have. ever since i met you, i really could not stop myself from constantly thinking about you. i know its a bad time to say that but-" jeongin is quick to suprise you by setting his finger on your lips, smirking but still with a fond look in his eye. "shh.. i know." he purrs. "w-wait. jeongin?" you question, feeling something poking you from his lap. you look down, suprised to see him hard. "you're sitting on my lap, we're friends and im hard. i'm sorry. but am i? i couldn't help it.. with you moving around so much and telling me how much you love me," he giggles menacingly.

jeongin looks down to find you slightly grinding yourself on his boner, seeing you close your eyes and breathe shakily. his eyes almost pop out of his sockets when he sees your glistening cunt peeking out of your shirt. "wait." he stops you, "you're not.. wearing anything under that.. are you?" jeongin faintly murmurs. "mmm, i had a feeling we'd start doing.. this." you whisper. "you little whore. if you wanted me so bad you should've said it," he annouces. "can i.. touch you there?" he asks, reaching out to your clit. "yes, please, i really really need you," you whisper, bringing jeongins hand under your shirt to lightly trace your arousal.

"do you like it when i touch you there, baby?" jeongin rasps, kissing your clavicle. "fuck, i really need you right now." you grind harder, whimpering in his presence. "shh.. not too loud. we don't want my friends to wake up and see you helplessy grinding on my lap like a little whore, do we?" he interjects, ironically touching you faster. "f-fuck, no.." you lightly groan, muffling your mouth into jeongins neck. "i'm.. i'm close, jeongin," you quietly whine, grinding faster. jeongin rips his hand away from your cunt, putting his wet fingers into his mouth, rolling his eyes back. you look up and groan from the sight, trying to withdraw from jeongins tight hold on your waist to chase your already ruined high.

"mmm.. you taste so sweet, don't you? i've always wondered how you'd taste," he muffles, fingers still in his mouth. "you're driving me crazy right now, you jerk," you mutter angrily, still trying to squirm away from jeongins grip. "ah ah ah.." jeongin smirks, "you're not going to get any pleasure by acting like a little brat," he firmly hisses, implying the last 3 words with a flick to your clit making you shiver. "would you rather i have you cum on my fingers or my dick? the choice is yours, baby." he says lowly, fondling with your tits under your shirt. "o-on your dick," you hush. "right answer," he pecks your lips, untying his sweatpants.

jeongin aligns with your cunt, both of you leaking like crazy. "can you be a good pup and ride me?" he asks gently, fingers tracing your lips. you nod, finally sinking jeongins cock in your hole. jeongin closes his eyes and lets the currently overwhelming pleasure take over him. "remember, we have to be quiet," he hushes, fingers playing with your shirt. you start moving, connecting your lips to jeongins neck leaving warm hickeys behind. you move faster, quiet whines leaving your throat. jeongin moves his hand to your mouth, silencing you from any loud noises. "fuck, you're doing so well," he strangles, lips pulled into a tight line, holding back his own moans. staying quiet was hard for him too, you thought.

"j-jeongin, i'm close," you say breathlessy, movements becoming sloppy and off-time. "relax, baby, i got you," jeongin sits up, thrusting up once, eventually pulling back out and thrusting into you again, setting his own pace. he keeps rutting into you, eventually touching your clit to get you to your high faster. you cum with a scrunched face, body shaking from the stimulation. jeongin feels you clenching onto him from overstimulation, cumming not much later.

you collapse on jeongin, both of your chests heaving, warm breaths fanning eachother. jeongin lifts his hand to pet your hair, calming you down.

"you make me so happy, y/n. i love you so much."

#this was so rushed #i hate it #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin smut #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin smut #skz imagines #yang jeongin imagines #skz x y/n #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x y/n

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