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captainsophiestark · 3 months ago

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A Very Dagger Christmas

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Jake's down bad for his SO in a way his friends have never seen before, and they want to make sure his SO knows it.

Word Count: 2,015

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You cheated! I saw you bump the ball, don't try to deny it!"

"I did not cheat! You just suck at pool!"

"Pilots! I will ban pool for the rest of the night if I have to. Don't test me."

"Sorry, Penny..."

I watched the unfolding drama around the pool table of the Hard Deck with a smile as I sipped the last of my hot chocolate. Penny had closed the whole place for a little early Christmas celebration between her, Amelia, Mav, and the Daggers, and as the partner of Jake Seresin, I'd been invited along this year. The atmosphere, food and drink, and free entertainment all combined to make this my favorite Christmas party attended so far.

"Hey."

I looked up to see my boyfriend, Jake, crossing the room towards me with a big smile and two mugs in his hands. I shifted over a little on the cushy loveseat Penny had moved in for the evening's party, giving Jake room to settle in next to me.

"I brought you another cup of hot chocolate," he said, leaning in to kiss my forehead as I took the mug from him. "Not spiked, although I still don't know how you're putting up with all these idiots sober."

I laughed. "I love your friends, Jake. And I want to remember all the embarassing shit they pull clear as day, so I can use it against them later."

"And that's why you're the best. Amazing." Jake leaned in to punctuate his statement with a kiss, this time on the lips. I smiled into the kiss, then snuggled into Jake's chest once we broke apart. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding me closely, and the moment was one of absolutely perfect peace and comfort despite the chaos continuing around us.

"Thanks for inviting me along to this, by the way," I said, my voice low as I curled into Jake, more relaxed than I'd been all week in the leadup to this party. Jake hummed, and I could feel the vibrations all through his chest.

"Thanks for agreeing to come. I've been to a few of these now, and this one's already a lot better with you here. A lot." I leaned even further into Jake, squeezing his thigh gently with my free hand. After a moment, Jake continued. "Although, honestly, you might want to wait to thank me until after we play Dirty Santa."

I let out a long, heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Babe. I hate it when you call it that. You live in California now, it's White Elephant! Dirty Santa sounds like something much different and much worse than a fun gift exchange."

"Worse?" asked Jake, a familiar grin and note of mischief in his tone as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, his arm wandering from my shoulders to my waist. When he spoke again, it was nothing more than a low growl in my ear. "Or better?"

I considered for a moment, then shook my head and leaned back as much as I could in the small loveseat.

"No. The delivery and everything normally would've worked, but not for the phrase 'Dirty Santa', and not at the non-blood-relative family Christmas party. Nice try, through."

Jake just smiled and shook his head. He leaned in again, pulling me towards him like he was about to double down, but before he got the chance, we were interrupted by a few of his friends shouting from the pool table.

"Hangman! Get over here, we need some fresh blood at this pool table!"

Jake just rolled his eyes and waved the guys off, but they refused to take no for an answer. After a moment, I leaned up and kissed Jake on the cheek and gave him a little smile, then moved his arm from around my shoulders myself.

"Go," I said. "You've got honor to defend in pool, and you should probably get a game or two in now before Penny inevitably has to ban it."

Jake grinned, but he didn't move from the seat next to me.

"...Are you sure? I don't want to abandon you."

I just waved him off. "I'm fine, I like all your friends, and I already know most of them pretty well. No risk of abandonment here, I promise."

"Great." Jake leaned in to give me a quick kiss, then pulled back with a grin that spelled trouble. "Then I have some people who need to get their asses kicked in pool."

With that, he hopped up and took off to join the group at the pool table. I watched him with a fond smile, a warm glow sitting in my chest. He was absolutley ridiculous, but he was also absolutely wonderful.

While I was busy watching Jake, Natasha wandered over and took a seat in the chair next to me. I gave her a little smile, then turned back to watching Jake. After a moment, I heard her huff a little laugh, and I turned my attention back to her with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just... I've never seen him like this."

I frowned, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

"Nat-?"

"Hangman. It's been... nice, but really weird to see him like this."

"Nat, like what?"

She shook her head, her attention drifting to where my boyfriend was in the middle of trash talking at the pool table. She huffed another laugh, then turned back to me.

"He's wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. That matches with yours. Do you know what happened the last time someone tried to get Hangman to do that?"

"...No..."

"He dumped the one Coyote tried to force him into in a pool of oil from the planes."

I snorted, my hand flying to my mouth to cover a disbelieving laugh. I kept waiting for Natasha to smile or something to let me know she was joking, but her expression stayed dead serious.

"...Really?"

"Yes, really! And you're the first partner he's ever brought to more than one of our events, the first one he hasn't given a bunch of shit to for not drinking with him, the first one in years any of us have bothered to learn the name of. He's in a good mood, he's clearly just as happy to sit with you over here as he is to be in the middle of the pool game over there. Even right after he and Rooster get into it, he smiles at you two seconds later and it's like nothing even happened. Do you know how long those stupid moods of his usually last?"

I huffed a laugh and shook my head. Everything Natasha was saying had my heart racing, but I didn't want to let my imagination run away from me. Surely I didn't have that big of an impact on Jake, no matter what Natasha seemed to think.

"Hey guys," said Mickey, coming over to join the two of us with a smile. "I needed to get the hell out of that pool game while I still could. It's about to be a knock down dragout between Mav, Rooster, and Hangman. We're taking bets on how long it'll be before Penny bans pool and who's going to be the final straw to cause it if you guys want in."

"...What are the current odds?" asked Natasha, leaning forward. Mickey quickly walked her through the bet layout as it stood, then continued with a grin before she could stake anything.

"There's one other rule you should be aware of: no one's allowed to send our newest extended family member into the fray to influence the odds."

He nodded towards me when he said it, and I raised an eyebrow, but Nat almost shot out of her chair in indignation.

"What? Come on, where's the fun in that?"

"The fun is that we can actually take bets without a win card in everybody's pocket that can keep the game going all night."

Nat threw her hands up and flopped back in her chair, which was my cue to lean forward.

"Mickey... what are you talking about?"

"Hangman's one of the three live wires over there that's going to get way too competitive and ruin the game. If you go over there, you're gonna calm him down and totally ruin the fairness of our bet."

I laughed and shook my head, copying Nat and flopping back in my chair.

"I think you guys are seriously overestimating my influence on Jake's fundamental personality. We've been together long enough now that I think I would've noticed if he was a completely different person around me."

"Okay, first of all, no you wouldn't have," started Mickey. "If he were a different person around you, you'd only ever see the person he is around you, because you're necessarily around him when you're seeing him. And second, we're not saying he's a totally different person."

Nat hummed like she might disagree, and Mickey gave her a little nod.

"Okay, at least I'm not. What we're really trying to say is... he's obviously pretty committed, and very happily tied down. It's made him more grounded in a way that I honestly never thought I'd see. But it's nice, and it's definitely because of you."

I just hummed, processing Mickey's words. Jake and I had been dating for a few months, and although we hadn't really sat down to talk about it, we were clearly getting pretty serious. At least, I was. And it was nice to know that Jake's friends seemed to notice the same thing coming from Jake.

I stayed in my seat chatting with Natasha and Mickey for a while longer, until pool was eventually called off with Amelia having won the bet, to no one's surprise. Everyone wandered over to join Nat, Mickey, and I to begin White Elephant, and Jake settled into the loveseat next to me again.

"How was pool?" I asked as he handed me another mug of hot chocolate, further defending his position as my dream man.

"Fine, until Rooster started cheating. And then he has the nerve to call me on it when I started doing it to, to level the playing field!"

I just laughed and curled further into Jake's chest as he shot Rooster an aggressive stink eye. Luckily for all of us, Rooster didn't catch it.

The rest of the night passed much more peacefully sans pool table, even though White Elephant was as explosive as Jake had been expecting. Still, once it was over and we'd all settled in to relax together by the fire, any of the negatively chaotic moments of the night were long forgotten.

I laid my head on Jake's chest, listening to the soothing rythm of his heartbeat as Jake ran his hand gently up and down my arm. I was honestly on the edge of drifting off to sleep when Jake's voice drew me back. He was speaking quietly, right next to my ear, so softly that I wasn't sure he even meant for me to hear him.

"I love you. So fucking much."

I shifted just enough to meet Jake's eyes. He seemed surprised to find me awake, but a determination I usually only saw when I got to visit him on base was shining in his eyes.

"I love you," he repeated, louder this time. "And it's okay if you aren't ready to say it back or don't want to or whatever. But... I need you to know. I love you more than I've ever loved somebody before."

I smiled, my heart melting as I leaned up to kiss Jake. I ran my hands through the hair on the back of his neck, then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again and whispered against his lips.

"I love you too, Jake. More than anyone or anything. So, so much."

His face lit up like the sun. His arm wrapped tight around my waist, and he pulled me closer to him than was probably appropriate for our current setting. He kissed me, hard, and I kissed him right back. I'd been in love with Jake Seresin for a while now, but it was nice to finally say it out loud. And even nicer to hear it back.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

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burningembers91 · 2 months ago

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Tennessee Whiskey - Kang Dae-Ho x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

A Voice Like Honey

Synopsis: When trouble breaks out at the bar, Kang Dae-Ho steps in to save you

A/N: I just want to give him a big hug 🥹

The bar was full to bursting tonight. There were so many people packed into the tiny space, you were having to turn people away. The sound of laughter, chatter and the ocassional smash as a patron dropped a glass on the tiled floor was almost deafening. But, as soon as you got up to sing, the whole room went silent. Every pair of eyes were trained on you, your golden honey voice, rich and warm, captivating your audience.

Kang Dae-Ho watched you from behind the bar as he polished a glass, mesmerised by your very essence. You were singing Fleetwood Mac covers tonight, and were halfway through his favourite song, Landslide when he noticed them. The group of tourists who had been steadily draining the bars supply of beer since early afternoon. They were pointing at you, making lewd gestures with their hands, sniggering to themselves as they watched you sing.

Dae-Ho gripped the glass in his hand tightly, so tightly he heard it crack. They’d been nothing but trouble since they turned up. Flirting with you, trying to get you to sit at their table with them. You took it in your stride though, never rising to the increasingly salacious comments. You were always so poised, so unfazed. Dae-Ho admired that about you.

Your set finished and you jumped down from the stage, heading back around the bar to join him.

“You sounded great,” his smiled, handing you a glass of water to soothe your parched throat. “You’ll be heard act to follow.”

“You’ll do great,” you reassured him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. Electricity shot through every atom of his body at your touch. He wondered if you knew just how crazy you drove him. “You have an incredible voice.”

Even in the dim light of the bar, you could see the heat rise through his cheeks. You loved making him blush; he always looked so handsome when he did.

As Dae-Ho mounted the stage, his eyes never left you. Each song he played was for you, every word dedicated to you. As his set progressed, the tourists got closer and closer to you. He could see them talking to you, could see you roll your eyes as they leaned on the bar, their eyes trained on your breast. He cut his set short, ignoring the girls who hung around the stage to wait for him. He made his way over to you, his anger rising, his fists balling. He’d learned enough English during his travels to know that nothing the men were saying to you was nice.

“I think you should leave,” Dae-Ho growled, hoping the shake in his voice wasn’t obvious. He hated confrontation, but he hated seeing you harassed even more.

“Why?” One of the tourists asked, his thick southern American accent slurred, evidence of just how inebriated he was. “I was simply offering to buy this beautiful lady a whiskey.”

“I don’t drink whiskey,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Dae-Ho could tell you were reaching the end of your tether with them.

“That’s probably cuz you ain’t never tried Tennessee whiskey,” the man winked, his beer scented breath hot on your face.

“Leave her alone.” Dae-Ho gritted his teeth, readying himself for a fight. He’d never fought anyone before, but for you he’d take on an entire army.

“Or what?” The man jabbed a thick finger into his chest, knocking him off balance.

“That’s enough!” You warned, but the men were too drunk to care. Without warning, his fist shot out, catching Dae-Ho square in the face. He stumbled back, falling into the crowd that had formed to watch the drama unfolding.

Dae-Ho tried to scramble to his feet, but there were too many people packed too closely together and he couldn’t move away fast enough. As a fist connected with his face again, he felt hands pulling him by the shoulders, dragging him away. Some of the crowd had clearly seen sense, breaking the fight up before it could escalate.

“Get out!” You snapped at the men, “get out before I call the police.”

You didn’t pay attention to their protestations, hurrying over to Dae-Ho.

“Let me have a look.” You checked his face over, his skin already red and swollen. “We need to ice your face. Can’t have you coming into work with a shiner.”

You took him into the back room, placing an ice pack his eye and jaw. He couldn’t look at you, too embarrassed to see your reaction. He couldn’t even save you from a bunch of drunks. He was nothing, a nobody.

“Those guys were pricks,” you told him, sensing his discomfort. You wished Dae-Ho could see himself the way you did. You wished he saw the funny, sensitive, talented and kind person he was. He always seemed to doubt himself, always seemed to be so unsure. But you could see how amazing he was, could see how much he cared for people, could see how much he cared for you.

“They were nothing more than jumped up cowboys,” you said, removing the ice pack to check his injuries. He’d definitely have a black eye tomorrow.

“Girls like cowboys though,” he mumbled, turning away from you. The shame was crushing, overwhelming.

“Not all girls,” you smiled. “I prefer musicians, who also double as a bartender.”

Dae-Ho looked up at you, momentarily forgetting the throbbing pain in his face.

“You do?” He asked, dumbstruck.

“Mhmm,” you smiled, pulling your stool a little closer to his. Brushing a stray lock of hair that had fallen from his bun, you traced a line down his check. “I like you, Dae-Ho. Very much.”

“Oh. Right.” He screamed at himself to think of something to say, something profound, maybe something sexy. But you always seemed to render him speechless. He’d spent a hundred nights imagining a hundred ways in which he’d tell you how you made him feel. But in this moment, he could only smile.

You’d said it yourself; you didn’t like cowboys, you liked him. Very much. As your lips met his, soft and slow, Dae-Ho was sure he’d never been happier. You tasted like you sang: like honey.

“Walk me home?” You asked, pressing another small kiss on his lips.

“Always,” he smiled. He would never tire of you. His beautiful bartender with a voice like golden honey.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #kang dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #Kang dae ho x you

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airybcby · 1 month ago

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જ⁀♡⊹｡° please don’t ruin this for me

♡ a/n — for my childhood friends to lovers series!

♡ word count — 2.3k

♡ content — eita otoya x fem! reader, fem! reader, childhood friends to lovers, SPOILERS FOR the NEL arc, goes from childhood to NEL, mentions of cheating ( both otoya and reader ) , slight nsfw ( mentioned but not explicit ) , slight playboy otoya, miscommunication, longest thing i've ever written, lmk if i missed anything!

♡ synopsis — Whether you were together or not, you'd always been eita otoya's. And he had always been yours, no matter what.

The first time Otoya told someone you were dating, you were seven years old, sitting on the swings during recess, kicking your legs back and forth as he proudly made his announcement.

“We’re in love, duh,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hand, warm and slightly sticky from the juice box he just finished, was firmly holding yours.

You didn’t question it. Instead, you nodded along enthusiastically. “Yeah! We’re gonna get married and have a big house and eat candy for dinner every night.”

Your teacher, overhearing the conversation, sighed as she handed back your coloring pages. “That’s… nice. But please sit down now.”

It was silly. Just one of those things kids did after watching too many fairy tales and dramas.

But a week later, Otoya made a big show of breaking up with you during lunch.

“I don’t wanna marry you anymore,” he declared, arms crossed like he had thought long and hard about this decision.

You gasped, clutching your chest dramatically. “Fine, because I don’t wanna marry you either!”

The kids sitting around you both let out a collective, scandalized gasp, as if they were witnessing a tragic romance unfold before their very eyes.

You didn’t speak for the rest of lunch. Both of you sat in exaggerated silence, chewing your sandwiches in a way that made it very clear you were upset.

For about five minutes.

Then Otoya nudged your arm. “Wanna play tag?”

“…Yeah.”

And that was that.

You were still best friends, still inseparable, still attached at the hip.

That was how it always was. No matter what happened, Otoya always found his way back to you.

Until one day, he didn’t.

By the time you both entered junior high, the jokes about dating slowly faded away, replaced by real relationships.

Just never with each other.

Otoya had girlfriends now. A lot of them.

It wasn’t surprising—he was easygoing, charismatic, and could make anyone laugh. Girls naturally gravitated towards him.

What was surprising, though, was how effortlessly he let them go.

None of his relationships lasted long, but he never seemed heartbroken. If anything, his exes didn’t even seem bothered by their breakups. He’d flash them a lazy grin the next day in class, crack a joke, and just like that, everything was fine.

You never once saw him cry over a girl.

And for the first time since you’d met him, you were just his friend.

There were no more playful declarations of love, no more jokes about getting married.

Maybe you’d outgrown all of that.

Or maybe, just maybe, it had stopped feeling like a joke.

The first time you kissed Otoya, you told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

It was an accident.

Or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe.

It was late. His soccer practice had run long, and he had shown up at your house afterward, climbing through your window like he always did, flopping onto your bed like he owned the place.

You had been talking about everything and nothing at all, laughing over some dumb inside joke, when suddenly, he leaned in.

His gaze flickered to your lips for just a second before he closed the space between you, pressing his mouth to yours in a way that was soft, slow, and entirely too familiar—like he had been waiting for this moment forever.

When he pulled away, he grinned lazily, his voice just above a whisper.

“That was your first kiss, huh?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing. “…Yeah.”

His expression softened. “Guess we just made a good memory together.”

That was how it started.

A kiss turned into two.

Two turned into nights spent tangled in sheets, your hands in his hair, his mouth tracing patterns against your skin.

When you finally gave yourself to him completely, he had laughed against your collarbone and murmured, “I’ll keep it safe for you.”

Good friends did this, apparently.

Good friends walked home together after his soccer practices, hands lazily intertwined.

Good friends fell asleep in the same bed, limbs tangled like it was natural.

Good friends still slept together—even when Otoya had a girlfriend.

And everyone thought you were dating.

But you weren’t.

At least, not officially.

Then one day, one of Otoya’s nameless girlfriends pulled you aside after school.

“You need to stop hanging around him so much,” she snapped, her arms crossed tightly. “It’s pathetic how you just follow him around like a lost puppy.”

You blinked, startled. “I—”

She scoffed. “You really think I don’t notice? Every girl who dates Otoya knows about you. We all know we’re just fillers until you decide you actually want him.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out.

Because deep down, you weren’t sure she was wrong.

That night, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Maybe this wasn’t normal. Maybe, in trying to feel something, you had hurt people in the process.

So you stopped.

No more late-night visits. No more whispered secrets.

And strangely, Otoya didn’t stop you.

You thought maybe he’d notice. That maybe he’d say something.

But if he did, he never said a word.

And the girls beside him kept changing.

The first few days without Otoya were… strange.

You told yourself it was normal—people drifted apart all the time. This was just a natural part of growing up, right?

But the silence was loud.

There was no more tapping at your window late at night, no lazy texts asking what you were doing, no sudden arms slung over your shoulders as he teased you about some random thing.

It was quieter.

At first, you thought you were the one keeping the distance, that it was your choice. That if you ever wanted to hear from him, all you had to do was reach out.

But weeks passed, and you didn’t hear a word.

No texts. No calls.

Nothing.

Then, one afternoon, the realization came crashing down in the most mundane of ways.

You were in the school bathroom, washing your hands, when a girl burst into the stall next to you, her voice thick with frustration.

“He just left for some soccer training camp—‘Blue Lock’ or something! Didn’t even warn me,” she cried, sniffling.

Your stomach dropped.

“What?!” one of her friends gasped. “Wait—like Otoya? He’s gone?!”

The girl let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Yeah. Just poof. Didn’t even bother saying goodbye.”

Your breath caught.

The cold water from the sink ran over your fingers, but you barely felt it.

He left?

Your mind raced. There was no way that was true. Otoya wouldn’t just go without saying anything. Right?

You fumbled for your phone, hands shaking as you scrolled through your messages.

His name sat there, undisturbed, with your last conversation from months ago.

And suddenly, it hit you—

You hadn’t noticed.

He had vanished from your life, and you had been so convinced you were choosing the distance that you didn’t even realize he was already gone.

You gripped the edge of the sink, feeling sick.

This was Otoya. The boy who had been with you since childhood, the boy who was always by your side. How had you not seen it?

Had he even wanted you to notice?

The thought made your chest ache.

Because if he had, he would have said something, wouldn’t he?

And yet—he hadn’t.

He had left without a word.

Without a goodbye.

Like you didn’t matter at all.

Blue Lock was exhausting.

Physically, mentally, emotionally—it took everything out of him. But Otoya thrived in chaos, so he never let it get to him.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But sometimes, in the rare quiet moments between matches, when the adrenaline faded and there was nothing left to distract him, he’d find himself scrolling through his phone, staring at your contact.

The urge to text you was unbearable.

Should he?

Would you even care?

He thought about the last time he saw you—the way you had started pulling away, the way you had stopped looking for him.

Had you already decided he wasn’t worth keeping around?

That thought made something bitter settle in his throat.

Maybe this was for the best.

Maybe, if you had wanted him in your life, you would have noticed he was gone.

So he locked his phone, tossed it onto his bed, and pretended it didn’t bother him.

That you didn’t bother him.

That the ache in his chest wasn’t loneliness, but just another part of the game.

And in the end, he never pressed send.

You didn’t even know why you were here.

Well. That was a lie.

You knew exactly why you were here.

It wasn’t for the game, and it sure as hell wasn’t for Japan’s future in soccer.

You just wanted to see him.

Even after everything, after months of silence, after the way he had left you behind without a second thought—

You still wanted to see him.

The moment the match started, your eyes found him instantly.

Otoya was different.

Stronger, faster, sharper.

But more than that—he belonged here.

And for the first time, you wondered if maybe this was why he never looked back.

Because he didn’t need to.

The game was intense. You barely processed the score, the plays, or the tension in the stadium. All you could do was watch him.

And then, it was over.

Your breath was unsteady as you weaved through the crowd, pushing past people, trying to make your way down to the field before you lost sight of him.

And then—

You saw him.

Standing there, laughing, his expression relaxed and carefree as he spoke to a red-haired girl.

She was smiling, leaning close.

And just like that, something inside you snapped.

You stopped in your tracks.

You shouldn’t have been surprised. Otoya had always been like this, right? Easy. Charming. He moved on from people without a second thought.

And yet, it still hurt.

Because while you had spent the last few months feeling his absence like an open wound, he didn’t even look like he missed you at all.

Your hands curled into fists.

You weren’t going to do this to yourself.

You turned on your heel and walked away, not looking back.

And this time, you swore—

You were really going to leave him behind.

Time did what it always did—it moved forward, dragging you along with it whether you wanted it to or not.

You went to university. You got good grades. You found new friends, new routines, new ways to keep yourself busy.

And somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself that you had moved on.

You weren’t the same girl who spent sleepless nights staring at her phone, hoping for a text that never came. You weren’t the same girl who walked away from that stadium feeling like she had lost something she didn’t even realize she still wanted.

You were fine.

And you had a boyfriend now.

He wasn’t Otoya—he wasn’t playful or reckless, didn’t make your heart race with a single look—but he was steady. Reliable. Safe.

And for a while, you told yourself that was enough.

But then came the nights when you found yourself alone, flipping through channels until you landed on an FC Barcha match.

And every single time—without fail—your eyes found him.

Eita Otoya.

Older now, sharper, wearing that signature smirk like it had never left his face.

He moved across the field like he owned it, like he was made for this. And watching him, you felt the same ache in your chest that you had buried for years.

You were fine.

That’s what you kept telling yourself.

But if that was true, then why did it feel like your heart stopped every time you saw him on the screen?

The night Otoya came back, it was supposed to be simple.

You had movie plans with your boyfriend. He was supposed to come over, bring takeout, sit next to you on the couch, and pretend not to notice when you inevitably got distracted by your phone halfway through.

But when the knock came, and you opened the door—

It wasn’t him.

It was Otoya.

And he didn’t say a word.

He just stepped inside, grabbed your face, and kissed you.

Your heart stopped.

Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing—

But your body betrayed you.

Your fingers curled into his jacket, pulling him closer as his hands found your waist. He kissed you like he had been starving for it, like he was trying to make up for every lost second, every wasted moment spent apart.

And you let him.

You kissed him back like he was oxygen, like you had spent years trying to convince yourself you didn’t need him—only to realize, in this moment, that you still did.

That you always did.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was lower now, rougher, like he had spent years trying not to say those words. “You don’t even know how much.”

You felt dizzy.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But before you could say anything, before you could even think—

“What the fuck is this?”

You froze.

Otoya’s lips left yours, his gaze flicking over your shoulder.

And there, standing in the open doorway, was your boyfriend.

The takeout bag in his hand was slipping, forgotten, as his face twisted into something between disbelief and rage.

“What the fuck, Y/N?”

Your stomach dropped.

You hadn’t even heard him come in.

Otoya didn’t move.

Didn’t look guilty.

Didn’t even seem bothered.

He just blinked lazily, like he was barely interested in the whole situation, and then—

With absolutely no hesitation—

He walked to the door and shut it.

Right in your boyfriend’s face.

Then, just as easily, he turned back to you, smirking.

“You don’t need him,” he murmured, brushing his fingers over your jaw. “You have me now.”

And when he kissed you again, you let him.

Because the truth was—

You had always been his.

slight comeback but really just bc i had to get this out of my brain

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

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heartysworld · 7 months ago

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Racing Hearts // LN4

Lando Norris x Reader

The one time Lando thinks everything is going accordingly to plan,things take turn for the worse.

W.C: 2.5k

MASTERLIST

The sun was just starting to set over the Silverstone Circuit, casting long shadows across the paddock. You stood in the garage, watching Lando as he chatted with his team. It had been a grueling day of making final changes on the car on top of qualifying, and you could see the fatigue in his eyes despite the smile on his face.

"Hey, love," you called out, walking over to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you placed a kiss on the base of his neck. "Ready for tomorrow?"

Lando turned to you, his smile growing wider. "Do you even have to ask me,baby? Home race, lots of pressure, but I'm feeling good."

You nodded, trying to match his enthusiasm, but there was a flicker of worry in your eyes. "Just... be careful out there, okay?"

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "I will, babe. I promise."

You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "I know you will. I just can't help buy worry about you."

Lando kissed the top of your head. "And I appreciate it. But I've got something really special planned if I win tomorrow. Trust me, everything's going to be perfect."

Your curiosity was piqued, but you didn't press him for details. "Alright, I'll hold you to that," you said with a playful smile.

He grinned, giving you a wink. "Just you wait and see."

The morning of the race, the sky was a dark, menacing gray. Rain was forecasted, and the tension in the air was palpable. The pit lane was a hive of activity, with engineers and mechanics rushing around, making final adjustments.

You stood by Lando's side as he donned his helmet, your heart pounding. "Good luck, and please be safe," you whispered, squeezing his hand tightly.

Lando looked at you, his eyes full of determination. "I will, love. I promise."

He pulled you in for a quick kiss, the familiar feel of his lips calming your nerves, if only for a moment. "Stay strong for me, okay?" he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "I will. I love you, Lando."

"I love you too," he replied, his voice filled with emotion. "Now go find a good spot to watch me win."

You watched as he climbed into his car, the roar of the engine sending a shiver down your spine. As the race began, you found a spot in the garage where you could see the screens, your eyes glued to the unfolding drama on the track.

Despite the worsening weather, Lando was in the lead. His car seemed to glide over the rain-soaked asphalt, his skill and precision evident with every turn. Your heart soared with every lap he completed, pride swelling within you.

The team cheered him on, the tension in the garage almost unbearable as the laps counted down. You exchanged excited glances with Lando's dad, both of you on edge but hopeful.

But with five laps to go, disaster struck. L Max's car began spinning right behind Lando's, catching both of them in a death spin. You watched in horror as Lando's car spun out of control, slamming into the barrier. Your breath caught in your throat, your hands covering your mouth as you fought back tears.

All you could hear was Lando's engineer trying to get a hold of him on the radio, but he got no response back.

"Lando, are you okay?" his engineer's voice crackled over the radio, but nothing. Seconds felt like hours as you waited, the silence deafening.

Then, finally, you heard Lando's voice, weak and strained and barely comprehensible due to the damage of all of the car's electronics. "Baby, the drawer..." And then, nothing. All eyes fell on you as you trembled with fear. Nothing made sense at that moment.

You felt your knees go weak, and Lando's dad caught you before you could collapse. "He's strong, he'll be okay," he said, his own voice trembling.

You nodded, clinging to that hope. "He has to be."

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Lando's dad was sitting beside you, equally shaken. As soon as you were allowed to see him, you rushed to his room, your heart heavy with fear. The sight of him lying there, sedated, broke your heart.

You sat beside his bed for what felt like hours, holding his hand gently. "Lando, what did you mean?" you whispered, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "What drawer, baby?"

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. Suddenly, it hit you—Lando had been oddly protective of his bedside drawer for the past few weeks. No matter where you went, your shared Monaco apartment, Lando's childhood home, the hotels you were staying at, the moment he saw you near his side of the bed he would go crazy, pulling you as further away from it as possible and finding countless distractions for you.

When you got to your hotel room, you rushed to Lando's drawer, your hands trembling. Inside, at the back right corner, your hands found a velvet box with a beautiful ring and underneath the box,a piece of paper with what seemed to be Lando's proposal speech written on it.

From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew my life was about to change in the most incredible way. Over the past five years, we've shared countless memories, faced numerous challenges, and celebrated countless victories. Each moment with you has been a blessing, and I can't imagine my life without you by my side.

You are my rock, my confidante, and my greatest supporter. Your love and belief in me have given me the strength to push through the toughest times and the courage to chase my dreams. When I'm on the track, I drive not just for myself, but for us, for our future.

Today, as I stand here at my home race, I realize there's no better time or place to take the next step in our journey together than the the one where our story began.

My love, will you marry me? Will you be my partner in life, my teammate in every race, and my forever love? I can't promise you that life will always be easy, but I can promise that I will always love you, stand by you, and fight for our dreams together.

Tears streamed down your face as you read the words, realizing his plan. He had intended to propose if he won the race. With shaking hands, you slipped the ring onto your finger, feeling a mixture of joy and sorrow. "I’ll wear it always, Lando, no matter what" you said, kissing the ring that now laid on your ring finger.

You sank onto the bed, clutching the letter to your chest. "I promise you, Lando. We'll get through this."

The next day, you returned to the hospital. As you entered Lando's room, you found his parents already there with their nacks towards you Your heart raced as the worst passed through your mind.

However, seconds later, them having noticed your presence and moved aside, you were met with the same eyes you've been loving for the past half a decade. Lando sat on the bed, smiling at you as much as his injuries allowed him.

"Lando?" you whispered, stepping closer.

His parents watcjed as Lando, now awake, was looking at you with a weak smile. Tears filled your eyes as you rushed to his side.

"Lando, you’re awake." you sobbed, clutching his hand.

His eyes fell on the ring on your finger, and a smile spread across his face. "You found it." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I did," you replied, tears of happiness streaming down your face. "I’ll wear it forever."

Lando squeezed your hand, his eyes shining with love and relief. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Lando," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "More than anything."

Lando's parents stepped out to give you a moment alone. You sat on the edge of the bed, holding his hand. "You scared me so much," you admitted, your voice trembling.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I never wanted to put you through that."

"I know," you replied, sniffling. "But we're here now, and that's what matters."

Lando reached up to touch your cheek. "Did you like the ring?"

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with your tears. "It's perfect, just like you. I can't believe you went through all this trouble."

"You're worth it, love." he said softly. "I wanted it to be special. I wanted us to start the next chapter of our lives in the best way possible."

You leaned down, resting your forehead against his. "Every moment with you is special, Lando. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours. "Neither can I.Neither can I."

As you sat by his side, holding his hand, you knew that despite the challenges, you would face everything together. Your love was stronger than ever, and you were ready for whatever the future held.

MASTERLIST

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hemmingsleclerc · 10 months ago

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Prom Night┃OP81

summary: u go to prom with your bf oscar <3 but I love the drama

Y/N couldn't wait for prom. As a senior, the night she had been waiting for years was about to happen. But there was something different about Y/N compared to her friends; She had a secret, or at least that was what everyone thought and rumors said.

In the hallways of her school, the whispers grew louder and louder. "Y/N is with her imaginary boyfriend again," they said, as if their words were just to get attention.

"He's tall, with brown hair and a beautiful smile," Y/N insisted when they asked her what her boyfriend was like. "And he's not from around here; he's Aussie."

Her ''friends'' rolled their eyes, unconvinced. "Sure, Y/N," they said, exchanging mocking glances behind her back.

Prom night was approaching and the doubts were growing stronger. But despite all the comments they said behind her back, she knew that her boyfriend would be there for her on that important night, even if no one else believed it.

Y/N took a deep breath and dialed the number she knew by memory. "Hey, it's me," she said with a shaky voice when he responded. "Are you still up for prom?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before a soft voice answered, "Of course, my love. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

That made Y/N release the breath she had been unconsciously holding.

And true to his word, when the night of the prom came, there he was: tall, brown hair, with that same charming and cute smile that Y/N had fallen in love with. Her Oscar.

When Oscar first saw Y/N in her beautiful dress, he felt like he could faint from how beautiful she looked. He couldn't contain the big smile that adorned his face when she ran into his arms when she saw him again. Also, Oscar gave Y/N a surprise when he took her hand to put the famous ''corsage'' on her, because he wanted to do things right so that his girlfriend had one of the best nights of her life.

When Y/N entered the place hand in hand with Oscar, she felt a mixture of nerves and excitement. But all her doubts were quickly disolved when Oscar took her hand, gave her a spin and took her to the dance floor, where both of them, even though they didn't know how to dance, made their best effort and had fun.

However, in the middle of all the joy of the night, Y/N couldn't ignore the whispers that could still be heard over the music. She caught cruel words towards her by those who had doubted her all along.

''Clearly that's not Y/N's boyfriend, she's too stupid to have such a cute guy by her side.''

Y/N felt embarrassed hearing that. But before she could say or do anything, she felt Oscar's grip tighten around her hand, without actually hurting her.

"Who said that?" His voice was low, a different tone than usual.

Y/N's heart beat faster as she watched Oscar's usually calm attitud break, replaced by a slightly stronger one. With a quick glance around the room, he saw the group of girls and boys who had been talking about her, their faces expressing surprise at realizing they had been caught.

''Wait for me here darling'', Oscar let go of Y/N's hand and crossed the room, with determined steps. The crowd parted before him, a silence falling over the room as all eyes turned to watch the situation unfold.

"You got something to say mate?" he said.

The girls and boys stutter, not being able to meet Oscar's gaze, his presence felt heavy on the room.

''If you're not such a coward, say it in front of my face, because I won't tolerate people speaking shit about my girlfriend'' his anger palpable in the air.

The girls and boys exchanged nervous glances, backing away from Oscar's gaze. They had hoped to make fun of Y/N without consequences, but they had never anticipated her boyfriend.

With one last sharp look, Oscar turned on his heel and returned to his girl, his jaw clenched in barely contained fury. When he reached her side, he took her hand in his, her hold was reassuring and comforting as he hid his face in her neck.

''Thank you very much for that, Osc, but it really wasn't necessary,'' she said as she play her boyfriend's hair.

''Of course it was necessary darling, they should never talked like that about you, ever. I hope they learned or I wouldn't mind running them with my car later'' Oscar said ''Even so, they shouldn't have talked about my girl like that''

''I love you''

''I love you too darling''

ynln

Liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend and 139,535 others

ynln prom w my baby 🤍🪩

username So this is oscar's mysterious gf!!!

username she's so pretty omg

oscarpiastri love you my girl ❤️

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nariism · 1 year ago

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a simple mission — neuvillette

accidental confession + "say it again. please."

synopsis. oh. oh no. you were most certainly not supposed to overhear this conversation between the iudex and the duke, but now you don't even know how to act right.

wc. ~1k

— for an anon bff 🫶 | event masterlist ✉️

You didn't mean to eavesdrop.

Really, truly, you didn't. All you had come for was to deliver the new reports from Poisson, have your usual polite chit-chat, then take the rest of the night off for your date.

Really, truly, you wish you hadn't overheard the conversation on the other side of the door—the muffled voices of who you presumed to be the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide making his rare overworld appearance and the Iudex of whom you held so dear.

Really, truly, you meant to walk away when you heard the passing of your name from Wriothesley, the curious tone and the silence that followed.

"I don't get you." A sigh, indignant and frustrated, then: "You're supposed to tell people how you feel. Jeez."

"It's quite complicated."

"Complicated? Come on, I'm tired of watching the two of you make goo-goo eyes at each other."

"... 'Goo-goo' eyes?..."

You stifle your laughter at the strained voice, though you have to wonder if your crush on Neuvillette was so obvious that even the warden had noticed from afar.

"You're seriously just going to let them go on a date?"

"That is their decision to make. Not mine."

"Whatever. I'm just saying you should consider the possibility that you should pursue this."

"My feelings for them don't amount to anything, so just forget—"

The door swings open faster than you can blink and you're left flailing around pathetically with your stack of papers. Both men stand dauntingly in the doorway, peering at you in mortification (and, to your horror, a shine of amusement in Wriothesley's eyes).

Really, truly, you wanted to melt into the Primordial Sea right then and there. And perhaps you should have turned heel and bolted away to do just that, if only to miss the incriminating colour blooming on Neuvillette's cheeks.

He was right. It is complicated, and the way he can't meet your gaze makes it all the worse.

You've called off your date tonight.

It's not the first time. It certainly won't be the last if this keeps up.

Unsure of what to do or where to go, you end up soaked in the rain at the edge of the city. The bridge overlooks the flooding Court of Fontaine—a pretty, weeping sight that Neuvillette had shown you what felt like eons ago. Back when the two of you were just friends and nothing more, when his name didn't stir something scorching within your heart.

What should have remained a professional, civil relationship between you and the Iudex grew into something more as the years passed.

You noticed the glow of his lilac eyes, the way they softened when you entered a room; the undeniable fondness in his expression as it crinkled with his smile, dignified but warm; the lingering of his hand over yours as he accepted whatever you brought to him for that day, a gesture which he hadn't graced others with to your knowledge.

Wriothesley had bugged you once about it before during one of his visits, calling you a lovesick fool. As it turns out, he loved drama of all sorts and was making it his personal mission to witness this opera himself.

You hadn't expected him to bring it up with Neuvillette as well, thinking that he would be too off put by the judge's apparent indifference toward you.

The soft pitter-patter of rain hushes as an umbrella unfolds above you, shielding you from the onslaught.

"You'll catch a cold."

You visibly deflate, head burying into your arms along the stone railings. Oh, dear. You don't know how to act right now. How are you supposed to act in front of the person who admitted to having feelings for you just a few ago?

Neuvillette takes your silence as his cue to continue probing. "I wanted to chat with you about what happened today. But, if you're busy then..." He turns his head left and right, searching for any signs of the date you had thrilled about earlier this week.

(A date that you wished could erase all the feelings you had for him, to no avail.)

"I'm not busy. I canceled," you tell him quietly. You stand up straight, turning to face him but with avoidant eyes. "What is it?"

"I want to apologize if I made you uncomfortable this afternoon. I understand it is unprofessional for us to be involved with each other, and I won't bring it up again. Not even to Wriothesley."

You blink at him, half surprised yet half not. The sudden downpour of rain roars in your ears deafeningly, somber weather matching his darkening appearance.

"You don't have to apologize. I wasn't uncomfortable, just..." You look away awkwardly. "Confused."

"What is there to be confused about?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "About why you never told me how you feel."

(Hypocrisy at its finest, honestly.)

Silence overcomes you again as he considers your words, deep in thought. You can tell just by the minute twist of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes, and it makes you sick that you can read every single tell of his emotions.

"I wouldn't want to burden you. I am unfamiliar with feelings such as these. I don't think I am fit to be your partner."

"Nobody is perfect," you remind him gently, reaching out to wipe the wetness from the rain off his cheeks. "Do you think I'm perfect?"

"Undoubtedly."

His quickness makes you snort with laughter, hand withdrawing from his space to take the umbrella.

"Wrong. Very wrong. I eavesdropped on you today, you know?"

"I know," he mutters, cheeks flaming with colour again as he remembers how flustered you seemed with the door swinging open. "How much of it did you hear?"

You hum, a soft smile spreading across your face. "Enough."

Neuvillette shrinks back in embarrassment. "And I suppose Wriothesley knew you were behind the door the entire time. Nothing escapes him."

"I'll have to thank him later," you giggle.

The Iudex stiffens. "You will?"

"Well... only if you say it again."

"That's—"

"Please?"

You watch the Adam's apple in his throat bob as he swallows, unable to regain composure.

"If I had feelings for you, would you accept them?"

You close the umbrella and shake it off, relishing in the sprinkle showering over you.

"A million and one times, I would."

He smiles, taking the umbrella from you. His hand lingers over yours for a moment, as always.

"Then I believe you do have some thanking to do."

#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#umm silly repost bc tumblr ate my post for some reason #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x gn reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x gender neutral reader #neuvillette x you

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misaerabl · 1 month ago

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She Won't Go Away...

CONTENT: wc… 8.2k ✦ sub!ellie,dom!reader, ellie is readers ex, reader get’s off on ellie’s misery, u make her beg, dry humping, fingering e!receiving, oral sex e!receiving, overstimulation, cheating, lowkey pathetic ellie, no use of y/n, PLOT W SMUT/SMUT W PLOT (totally not proofread!) SUMMARY: Months after your messy breakup, Ellie pretends she’s moved on—but the cracks are showing. She’s got a new girlfriend, a doe-eyed freshman trailing after her like a puppy, but one rainy night, she shows up at your door, desperate and drenched. She’s begging for just one night—to feel what she’s been missing since you. Will you give in, or is this your chance to turn the tables?

It’s been six months since she kicked you out—six months since your relationship with Ellie imploded. She had always been a storm waiting to happen, volatile and unpredictable, and that night was no different. You should’ve seen it coming, the way she turned everything upside down and left you stranded in the wreckage of your own life.

You blocked her on everything. Deleted her number, unfollowed her accounts, erased every trace of her from your digital world. But the real world wasn’t as simple. Your drama-loving friends, always hungry for the latest gossip, couldn’t help themselves from slipping in updates about her spiral.

And honestly? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel a little satisfying. Hearing about Ellie’s downfall—how she’d moved back in with her parents, how her rebound was barely old enough to vote, how she was making a spectacle of herself downtown—was a strange kind of vindication. She’d kicked you out of your own apartment, thrown your life into chaos, and now the universe seemed to be paying her back.

You tried not to dwell on it, but the memories lingered, sharp and bitter. That night had been the culmination of weeks of fighting over something Ellie refused to own up to. She was in the wrong—clearly, unmistakably in the wrong—but you’d let her steamroll you anyway. Maybe it was pity, or maybe you’d just been too exhausted to keep fighting her battles for her.

Your phone buzzes relentlessly, teetering on the edge of the table as notifications pile up from your group chat. You need to see this, one of them says, accompanied by a link to Ellie’s latest post. You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, before giving in to curiosity—or maybe morbid fascination.

The image loads, and there she is: Ellie, arm slung around some girl who looks like she’s trying way too hard to keep up. Your chest tightens involuntarily, but it’s not jealousy. It’s something darker, sharper. Disbelief.

The girl—doe-eyed, awkward, and dressed in that painfully calculated way that screams I swear I’m cool—looks like she stumbled out of a thrift store with no clue what she was doing. You almost laugh, but it’s not funny. If Ellie thought this would get to you, it hasn’t. The only thing you feel is pity.

The longer you stare, the clearer it becomes: she’s a downgrade. Massive. The kind that makes you wonder if Ellie’s doing this to punish herself or to prove some kind of misguided point. The girl’s charm feels forced, like she’s trying to mold herself into something Ellie’s already lost.

And then it hits you. The girl isn’t just a downgrade—she’s a replica. Or at least, an attempt at one. The shaggy hair, the oversized flannel, the too-big grin—it’s like looking at a ghost of Ellie herself, back when you first met. Back when she still had that spark, that reckless, magnetic energy that pulled you in before it burned you alive.

Figures. Ellie’s always been in love with herself, even if she never admitted it. Or maybe this isn’t love at all. Maybe she’s chasing a memory, a version of herself that felt invincible—before the mess, before the break, before she lost you.

It’s almost poetic, in a way. Ellie, so desperate to reclaim what she had, clinging to something that’s already gone. And you? You’re here, watching it all unfold, the bitterness in your chest laced with the faintest trace of satisfaction.

It would be cruel to admit it out loud, but deep down, you knew the truth—you got off on Ellie’s misery. It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t kind, but there it was, simmering under your skin like a guilty thrill.

Exhibit A: A month after your breakup, she moved back in with her parents. Jesse and Dina told you, of course, slipping it into conversation with cautious glances, like they were testing if you’d even want to hear it. They were your closest friends once—back when Ellie still held her shit together, back when you thought the two of you were untouchable.

Exhibit B: Just a week later, she was spotted at some party, bruised and beaten. She’d gotten into a fight, according to Sydney, a mutual friend who loved to keep tabs on everyone’s business. You could almost picture it: Ellie, fists flying, fueled by some combination of alcohol and self-destruction, still trying to prove she was untouchable.

Exhibit C: Her social media was practically a highlight reel of “I’m fine.” Carefully curated posts of nights out, new hobbies, and a string of new faces, all plastered with that same cocky grin. But you knew her too well. The cracks in her facade were glaringly obvious. The oversharing, the desperate attempts to prove she was thriving—it screamed the opposite.

And the list went on. Every new piece of information was like another point scored in some unspoken game. By some sick, twisted reason, you loved it. Watching her stumble and fall, knowing that she was unraveling—it gave you a satisfaction that felt both intoxicating and shameful.

Ellie thought she was the one who broke you. Maybe she did, for a while. But the real truth? She was the one breaking, piece by piece, and you couldn’t help but savor the view.

You were mid-sip of your coffee, half-listening to Dina ramble about her latest project, when she suddenly gasped, her eyes widening as she stared out the cafe window. “Oh my god,” she whispered, leaning closer like she’d just spotted a celebrity or a crime scene.

“What?” you asked, setting your cup down, already bracing for whatever drama she was about to unload.

Dina didn’t say anything, just tilted her head toward the window. You followed her gaze, and there she was—her. The fucking freshman Ellie was supposedly dating.

Your chest tightened, but not in the way it used to. This wasn’t jealousy. It was something colder, sharper, tinged with disbelief and a twisted sense of amusement. The girl was standing across the street, balancing an oversized tote bag and looking all of eighteen years old, fresh-faced and clueless.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you watched. “That’s her?” you asked, tone flat.

Dina nodded, her expression unreadable, but you could see the gears turning in her head. “Yep. That’s the one.”

The girl was painfully… average. Awkward, even. She had this overly eager energy, the kind that screamed pick me, with her oversized hoodie and the way she kept glancing around like she was lost. If Ellie thought this was an upgrade—or even a distraction—she was delusional.

“She’s…” Dina trailed off, struggling for the right word.

“A kid,” you finished for her, your voice laced with disdain.

Dina winced. “I mean, yeah, kind of.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your coffee, trying to pretend you didn’t care, but the sight of the girl lingered in your mind. It wasn’t jealousy—Ellie’s life was her own mess now—but seeing the girl in real life made it all the more ridiculous.

“She’s trying too hard,” Dina muttered, almost to herself. “Like she’s auditioning for something.”

You smirked, swirling your coffee absently. “Figures. Ellie always did like a good project.”

And as much as you hated to admit it, there was a small, dark part of you that couldn’t wait to see how this one would end.

A few minutes later, the door to the café swung open, and in came Jesse, his laughter ringing out before he’d even reached your table. His grin was wide, his energy electric, and you knew before he even said a word that he was about to deliver something chaotic.

“Did you see her?” he asked, barely getting the words out between fits of cackling. He plopped into the chair next to Dina, grabbing one of her fries without so much as a greeting.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference even as your stomach tightened. “See who?”

“The kid,” Jesse said, smirking. “Ellie’s little… whatever she is.”

Dina groaned, rubbing her temples. “Jesse, come on.”

“What? I’m just saying,” Jesse said, leaning back in his chair. “She looks like she wandered out of a high school open house. Please tell me you saw her.”

You kept your expression neutral, though the corners of your lips threatened to curl into a smirk. “Yeah, we saw her,” you said, taking a casual sip of your coffee.

Jesse snorted, shaking his head. “Man, I don’t know what Ellie’s thinking. It’s like she’s doing everything in her power to scream, ‘I’m totally fine, guys!’”

“She’s not,” Dina said, her voice soft but firm.

You glanced at her, but she didn’t elaborate. Jesse, however, didn’t seem to care. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at you.

“Tell me you’re at least enjoying the show,” he said, his grin sly.

You shrugged, playing it cool. “I’m just minding my business.”

“Bullshit,” Jesse said, laughing. “You love it.”

You didn’t respond, just leaned back in your chair and let the conversation flow around you. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the flicker of satisfaction Jesse’s words brought. Ellie’s mess was her own to deal with now, and you? You were just here for the coffee.

Finals week brought a brief, blissful silence. Everyone was too busy cramming and stressing over grades to care about the aftermath of your breakup or the whispers of Ellie’s spiraling life. For once, the campus drama machine took a breather, and you got to relish the peace.

But finals ended, and the parties began.

Celebrations cropped up everywhere, and your friends were relentless about dragging you out. At first, you resisted. Maybe you were still riding the exhaustion from finals, or maybe you just didn’t feel like pretending to enjoy yourself. But eventually, you caved. Blame it on the free drinks or the fact that Dina and Jesse had bailed to spend time together like the nauseating lovebirds they were.

The house buzzed with energy, bodies packed into every corner, and music so loud it felt like the floorboards might give out. Conversations competed with the bassline, creating a chaotic hum that filled the air. Laughter and shouts spilled out onto the front lawn, where clusters of people stood smoking or catching their breath. You hung near your group, drink in hand, soaking in the chaos without engaging too much. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.

And then you saw her.

She was in the kitchen, beer in hand, laughing at something the guy next to her said. From a distance, she almost looked like her old self—confident, collected. But you knew better. The forced laugh, the way her eyes flickered around the room when she thought no one was watching, the tension in her shoulders—it all screamed try-hard.

And clinging to her arm, like some desperate groupie, was the freshman. You had to give her credit for persistence; not many people would still fawn over someone this obviously falling apart. Ellie threw her a smile, but it was hollow, like everything else about her these days.

You turned back to your drink, feigning disinterest, but one of your friends nudged you. “Isn’t that Ellie?”

“Yep,” you said flatly, not even glancing back.

You weren’t going to let her ruin your night. No, that privilege was yours alone now.

Still, Ellie had a way of making herself impossible to ignore. Everywhere you turned, there she was, laughing too loud or gesturing wildly like she was the life of the party. She wasn’t. She was flailing, and it was almost embarrassing to watch. Almost.

At one point, your group migrated to a quieter corner, gossiping over drinks. The conversation was mindless, but it passed the time. You were just starting to relax when one of your friends leaned in, smirking. “Yo, isn’t that your ex?”

You didn’t need to look to know who they meant.

“She looks like shit,” someone muttered, and you couldn’t help but agree.

Ellie was leaning against the wall now, beer bottle nearly empty, her grey hoodie rumpled like she’d pulled it from the bottom of a laundry basket. The jeans she wore hung loose, the way clothes did on someone who’d lost weight they couldn’t afford to lose. Her glasses sat perched on her nose, slightly askew, the way they used to always be—an effortless part of her polished appearance. Her hair, once perfectly messy, now just looked like she hadn’t bothered. She was a shadow of the person she used to be, and you loved it.

“She’s trying so hard,” another friend snickered, and you smiled into your drink.

It was true. Ellie was a disaster, and she didn’t even know it. Every movement, every laugh, was a performance meant to convince everyone—including herself—that she was okay. But the cracks were there, and you had a front-row seat to watch her crumble.

You caught her looking at you once, just for a second, before she quickly looked away. That single moment of eye contact was enough to tell you everything. She was spiraling, and she knew you knew.

You raised your glass in a mock toast, a smug grin tugging at your lips as her expression darkened.

God, it felt good to see her like this.

Every stumble, every fake smile, every awkward interaction was proof that she hadn’t moved on, and that knowledge was sweeter than any drink you could have had tonight. Ellie might’ve been the one to end things, but you were the one thriving now.

And as you watched her shrink further into herself, you couldn’t help but savor the irony. She’d thought she was better off without you, but now? She was the punchline to a joke only you truly understood.

Karma had never looked so good.

Eventually, you grew tired of your so-called friends and their endless gossip, their voices blending into a monotonous hum that felt more high school than college. Rolling your eyes, you muttered a half-hearted excuse and slipped away, heading outside for a smoke.

The night air hit you like a reset button, cool and sharp against your skin. Away from the suffocating noise of the party, you finally let yourself breathe.

You were halfway through your cigarette when the back door creaked open, the familiar sound of footsteps following immediately after. You didn't have to look to know who it was—Ellie’s presence was unmistakable, like a ripple in the air that made everything feel off-kilter.

She came into view, cigarette dangling between her fingers, the glow from the ember briefly lighting up her face in the dim backyard. She stood there, awkwardly shifting on her feet, her posture too stiff to be casual. The smoke from her cigarette curled into the air, but she didn’t take a drag immediately—she was eyeing you, as if deciding whether to approach.

You didn’t make any move, just took another slow drag from your own cigarette, watching her from the corner of your eye.

“Can I join?” Ellie’s voice was rough, a little too slow, but she made her way over, unceremoniously leaning against the brick wall beside you.

You exhaled, the smoke curling into the cold night. “It’s a free world,” you said flatly, not bothering to acknowledge her much beyond that.

She nodded, as if to herself, and then lit her cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating her face in a flickering moment of vulnerability. She dragged deeply, her eyes closing for a brief second as she exhaled, the cloud of smoke mixing with the night air.

You couldn’t help but glance at her—she was wearing the same loose grey hoodie, her glasses perched just so, like they had always been a part of her signature style. The jeans she wore hung too loosely on her frame, the sign of someone who had lost more than just weight. The way her hands shook slightly as she took another drag was a stark contrast to her usual confident facade.

The quiet stretched between you both as she smoked, and you weren’t sure if it was the booze or just the weight of everything, but Ellie spoke up again, her voice softer now, too soft.

“Sometimes I think I fucked up more than I thought,” she said, her gaze fixed on the ground.

You didn’t reply right away. Instead, you took another drag, letting the silence hang, thick and heavy. She had this way of saying things she didn’t really want to say—things she thought she could bury under the weight of her act, but here she was, practically inviting you to take the shot.

Ellie looked back at you, meeting your eyes briefly before quickly looking away, uncomfortable again. "I didn't mean for it to go this way," she muttered.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smirking. “No one ever means it,” you said coldly, flicking the ash from your cigarette into the grass.

Ellie’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond. She just took another drag, trying to keep it together, though it was clear her mind was somewhere else entirely.

You couldn’t help the satisfaction that crept through you as you watched her like this—so far from the confident, untouchable girl who used to walk around like she owned every room. Watching her crumble, piece by piece, had always been more satisfying than you'd ever care to admit.

“Well,” you said, voice almost light, “at least you’re consistent in how much of a mess you are.”

She flinched at that, but didn’t retaliate. Instead, she just stared at her cigarette, the smoke curling upward, her shoulders slumping a little more with each breath. You didn’t care to pretend you cared about her sadness. It was better this way. She’d made her choice.

You finished your cigarette first, tapping it out and flicking it into the yard. "Have fun with that," you said with a sneer, before turning on your heel and walking back toward the house, the sound of the door closing behind you louder than any of the bullshit you’d just walked away from.

You didn’t see her again at the party, at least not until later when you were waiting for a cab, conveniently she was too. You were standing near the curb, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, ready to call it a night. The air had cooled further, and the sounds of the party were slowly becoming a distant hum. That’s when you spotted her—Ellie, standing just a few feet away, looking like she was trying to make herself small despite being too tall and noticeable.

She didn’t see you at first, and you almost considered pretending you hadn’t noticed her. But then, as if the universe had other plans, she glanced in your direction. Her eyes flickered for a moment, just a brief flash of recognition before she looked away.

You started to turn your attention back to your phone when the cab you’d called pulled up, but then Ellie surprised you. She was already walking toward it, the same cab, as if fate had decided to throw one last curveball.

Her eyes met yours again as she reached the door, and she hesitated for just a moment before saying, “You waiting for a ride too?” Her voice had a touch of awkwardness, like she wasn’t quite sure if she should even ask.

You paused for a second, then shrugged, stepping closer to the cab. “Guess so,” you replied, your tone flat but not unkind. You didn’t really feel like arguing, and she clearly wasn’t going to back down.

It was too late to back out now, so you both climbed into the backseat, the door shutting behind you with a soft thud. The car started moving, and for a moment, the silence was just as thick as it had been when you were standing outside.

The ride was quiet, the kind of silence that felt thick with unspoken words. Ellie sat beside you, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her face illuminated only by the dim glow of the streetlights passing by. You could feel her tension, the way she fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie sleeve, clearly trying to fight off whatever thoughts were eating at her. You didn’t bother to break the silence, letting the hum of the car’s engine fill the space between you both.

When the cab finally pulled up in front of your new apartment building, you were already reaching for the door handle, ready to escape the awkwardness. But before you could step out, Ellie surprised you again. She unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed the door open too, stepping out of the cab at the same time you did.

You blinked in confusion as she closed the door behind her and walked toward you, her pace slow but determined. “I’ll walk you to your apartment,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. It almost sounded like a statement rather than a suggestion, like it was something she had already decided in her head.

You stared at her for a moment, trying to process what she was saying. It wasn’t like Ellie to make such an offer, not after everything that had happened. You were about to ask her what she was doing when she tilted her head slightly, looking at you with a mix of resolve and something else—vulnerability, maybe.

She didn’t wait for your response, already starting to walk toward your building. You found yourself following her without thinking. There was something about the way she was acting tonight, something different than the reckless, unbothered Ellie you were used to. You couldn’t quite place it, but for some reason, you didn’t protest.

It felt almost like a routine, walking beside her in the quiet of the night. The distance between you wasn’t much, but it was enough for you to feel the strange tension in the air, the unspoken words hanging between the two of you.

The elevator ride up to your floor felt like an eternity, the space between you both growing with each passing second. Ellie was unusually quiet, her hands shoved deep in her hoodie pockets as she stared ahead, her lips pressed together in a line. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else, but she seemed more... guarded, like she was holding herself together by a thread.

You were about to say something when she spoke, her voice low but pointed. “You know, you’re not as over this as you act.”

The words hit you like a slap in the face. You snapped your head toward her, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, but the edge in her voice was unmistakable. “Just saying. You act like you don’t care, but I’ve seen you watching me tonight. You don’t fool anyone.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, but neither of you moved immediately. You could feel your heart beating faster, your temper flaring. “I don’t care? You think you know me? You’re the one who left, Ellie. You don’t get to make assumptions about me now.”

She rolled her eyes, her usual sarcastic smirk creeping onto her face. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you didn’t move on. I saw you at that party, having the time of your life with your little friends.”

That did it. You stepped toward her, your voice rising. “You don’t get to act like I’m the one who moved on too quickly. You don’t know what it’s been like for me, and frankly, I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Ellie’s expression shifted, and for the first time that night, you saw something softer in her eyes. But before you could process it, her tone sharpened again. “I never said you owed me anything, but I didn’t expect you to throw it all away like I meant nothing.”

“Stop acting like this is all my fault,” you shot back, your voice barely controlled now. “You pushed me away. I had no choice but to move on, Ellie. You made sure of that.”

The argument hung in the air, thick and tense. But before you could say another word, Ellie closed the distance between you, her breath warm against your skin. In one swift motion, she cupped your face, pulling you in. You didn’t fight it. The anger, the hurt, all of it seemed to melt away in the heat of the kiss.

It was raw—desperate even. Her lips were hungry against yours, and you kissed her back, your hands coming up to tangle in her messy hair. It felt like everything you’d been holding back, every word you hadn’t said, was pouring into that kiss.

But as quickly as it started, reality crashed back in. You broke away, gasping for air, your heart pounding in your chest. Ellie stood there, her face flushed, eyes wide with the same shock as yours.

You stepped back, shaking your head. “This... this doesn’t change anything, Ellie. Just go home.”

Her gaze softened, and you could see the disappointment in her eyes. But she didn’t argue. She simply nodded, turned, and walked away.

You stood in the cold, the echo of her footsteps fading down the hallway as you finally unlocked your door. The kiss lingered on your lips, but it wasn’t enough to make you forget why you had to push her away. Not now. Not like this.

A few days had passed since that night, but it felt like everything from then had been a twisted joke you were still trying to figure out. You weren't sad about the breakup; no, that ship had sailed. You were pissed that you’d ended up making out with her—Ellie, of all people—after everything.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that. You weren’t supposed to let her back in. And yet, there you were, rolling around with her in the elevator like some lovesick idiot. You had to keep telling yourself it was a mistake—a moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment. But you couldn’t deny the satisfaction that came with seeing Ellie in such a mess. The messy flannel, the loose jeans, the awkward way she was trying so hard to pretend she didn’t care. It was delicious.

You were in your room now, screaming into your pillow because, honestly, what the hell had you just done? Dina was on the bed, far too entertained by your complete frustration.

“So, you and Ellie kissed,” Dina said, her voice dripping with amusement. “Or should I say, ‘ate each other's face’?” She leaned forward, practically glowing with excitement. “How was it? Did she kiss like she still had a chance?”

You groaned into the pillow, the sound muffled. “I didn’t eat her face, Dina. It wasn’t anything like that.” You lifted your head just enough to glare at her. “She’s a disaster. She came on strong, and I was—ugh—I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

Dina was laughing so hard she almost fell off the bed. “Oh, come on. You’re so into her. I can tell. And you’re acting all annoyed, but I saw the way you kissed her. Don’t lie. It was intense.”

You sat up, scowling at her. “I’m not into her, Dina. I just... I don’t know, she pissed me off so much, and then bam—we're making out like idiots. But it’s not like it meant anything.”

Dina’s smirk didn’t fade. “Right, sure. Whatever you say, but I bet Ellie’s loving it right now, huh? She’s probably regretting her whole life choices while you’re sitting here getting off on her misery.”

That hit a little too close to home. You were enjoying the way she was falling apart. Seeing her so wrecked, so desperate to hold on to something that had already slipped through her fingers—it was delicious. Karma had never tasted so sweet.

You flopped back onto your bed, rolling onto your back with an exaggerated sigh. “She looked pathetic, Dina. But it’s like—ugh, I don’t know. Seeing her like that... It was so perfect, you know? She’s this whole mess, and I’m over here just... thriving.”

Dina raised an eyebrow at you, clearly enjoying the way you were reacting. “I get it. You love watching her self-destruct. It’s like everything she put you through is finally coming back around. But you’ve got to admit, kissing her like that—it’s got to mean something.”

You shot her a glare. “No. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m just enjoying the fact that she’s miserable now. She thought she could walk away, but now she’s the one suffering, and I’m just... here for it.”

Dina grinned, clearly not buying your act. “You can try to act all tough, but I see you, dude. You’re not as over her as you think.”

You groaned and buried your face back into the pillow. “Just drop it, okay? I don’t need to hear your analysis right now.”

Dina’s laugh rang through the room, making you just a little more annoyed. “Fine, fine. But you’re so into her. Don’t even try to deny it.”

The rain pounded relentlessly against the window as you stepped out of the shower, steam curling in the air around you. Dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a matching top, you walked into your room, ready to collapse into bed and lose yourself in mindless scrolling or random videos.

But before you could settle in, a soft knock at your door froze you in place.

You sighed, already dreading who it could be. Opening the door, you found Ellie standing there, drenched from the rain. Her auburn hair stuck to her face, and her usual cocky confidence was replaced by an almost hesitant shuffle.

“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice low and thick with something unspoken.

You crossed your arms, glaring. “What do you want, Ellie?”

She hesitated, her eyes flicking to the floor before meeting yours. She looked out of place, like she didn’t belong here but couldn’t stay away. “Just... please.”

You stared her down, letting the silence linger until it became unbearable, then stepped aside reluctantly. Ellie walked in slowly, dripping water onto the floor as she fidgeted with her hands. She always did that when she was nervous.

Closing the door, you leaned against it and crossed your arms again. “Well? Spit it out.”

Ellie’s shoulders tensed. She avoided your gaze for a moment, exhaling sharply before finally looking at you. “I miss you,” she said, her voice quiet, almost trembling.

A laugh escaped you, sharp and cold. “Bullshit. You have a girlfriend, Ellie. Why the hell are you here?”

“I know,” she replied quickly, holding her hands up as if to defend herself. “I know, but… she’s not you. No one has ever made me feel like you do. I miss you. Please.”

Your heart clenched, but you buried it under your growing frustration. “You’re unbelievable,” you said, your voice cutting. “You’re with her now. What’s her name again? Oh, right, the freshman who follows you around like a puppy on a leash. Does she know you’re here, begging me for crumbs?”

Ellie winced, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not like that,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“Isn’t it?” you shot back. “You’ve got her wrapped around your finger, Ellie, and now you want to come crawling back to me because you’re bored or because she can’t give you whatever it is you’re looking for. Do you even hear yourself?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore!” Ellie snapped, her voice breaking. “She’s not you. She’ll never be you. I need—”

“You need to leave,” you interrupted, cutting her off. “Go back to your little puppy. Play house. Whatever it is you do with her.”

Ellie stepped closer, her hands trembling at her sides. “I don’t want her,” she said, her voice softening again. “I want you. Just… just one night. Please.”

You raised an eyebrow, a cruel smirk tugging at your lips. “You think one night is going to fix this? After everything? You’ve got some nerve, Ellie.”

“I don’t care,” she said, desperation lacing her words. “I don’t care how much you hate me right now. I just—please, I miss how we used to be. I miss you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, stepping closer to her. “If you want me that badly, prove it,” you said, your voice sharp and unrelenting. “Beg for it, Ellie. Get on your knees and show me how much you miss me.”

Ellie’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock, but she didn’t hesitate for long. Slowly, she sank to her knees, her trembling hands resting on your thighs. “Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’ll do anything. Just… let me stay. Just for tonight.”

You tilted your head, looking down at her with mock pity. “Is this what you do when things don’t go your way? Crawl back to me while your girlfriend waits at home, none the wiser? Pathetic.”

Ellie flinched but didn’t move, her grip on your thighs tightening. “Say whatever you want. I don’t care,” she said, her voice shaking. “Just… please, let me stay.”

For a moment, you let the silence hang heavy between you, the sound of rain pounding against the window filling the room. You could feel her desperation, her raw need, and—god help you—it made you feel powerful.

Finally, you leaned down, tilting her chin up with your fingers so she had no choice but to meet your gaze. “You don’t deserve it,” you said, your voice low and cruel. “But I’ll give you what you want. Just this once.”

Ellie’s breath hitched as you leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was rough, desperate, and laced with all the frustration, hurt, and longing that had been simmering between you for months.

Her hands slid up your legs, pulling you closer as she kissed you back with equal fervor. It was a mess of emotions—anger, desire, and something neither of you dared to name—but for now, it was enough.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathing hard, you stared down at her, a smirk playing on your lips. “Get up,” you said, your tone sharp but teasing.

Ellie stood, her eyes never leaving yours. The night was far from over, and you both knew it.

A sly grin tugs at Ellie’s lips as she watches you sink into the couch, legs splayed wide. Her hesitation lasts only a heartbeat before she steps forward, closing the space between you. Without breaking eye contact, she lowers herself onto your thigh, her breath hitching as she settles in, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.

Her body sinks into yours as if she’s trying to melt away the distance between you. Her arms coil around your neck, fingers threading through the hair at your nape. She starts to move, a slow, deliberate grind, her breaths hot against your skin. Her voice, soft and raw, spills into the hollow of your neck like a confession wrapped in velvet. “God… I missed you so much,” she murmurs, the words trembling with a teasing ache, her desperation weaving itself into every shift of her hips, every flicker of heat that blooms.

She tries to press her knee against you, sliding between your legs with a boldness that only fuels your frustration. But you’re quicker, pushing her back with a firm hand. “No,” you bite out, your voice cold and unyielding. She doesn’t get to have this her way—not after everything. She doesn’t deserve to touch you, not until you decide she’s earned it.

When you shove her knee away, a soft whimper escapes her lips—fragile, pleading, yet laced with determination. She leans closer, her breath warm against your skin as she murmurs, “Let me touch you, baby.” Her voice trembles, a delicate mix of desperation and longing, as if she’s begging for permission to worship what she knows she doesn’t deserve.

You tilt your head, locking eyes with her, your expression cold and unyielding. Her desperation clings to the air between you like a suffocating fog. “You don’t deserve to touch me,” you say, your voice low but cutting, each word sharp enough to pierce through her resolve.

Her breath hitches, her hands faltering where they’ve dared to rest on your thighs. “Please,” she whispers, her voice breaking just slightly, the word hanging in the silence like an offering.

You lean forward, closing the distance just enough for her to feel the weight of your presence without granting her the satisfaction she craves. “You don’t get to beg for what you threw away,” you add, your tone cruel, though the flicker of heat in her gaze tells you she doesn’t hate it. If anything, she leans into it, her fingers curling tighter against your legs.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she says, almost breathless, her voice trembling with urgency. “I’ll do anything. Just—”

“Anything?” you interrupt, your lips curling into a slow, taunting smile. “You really think anything will erase the mess you made? You want to earn this? Then prove it. Show me how pathetic you can be.”

Her cheeks flush, her eyes dropping to the space between you as though she’s already considering how far she’ll go. And when she looks up again, there’s a spark of something reckless in her gaze—something that says she’s willing to sink lower if it means she can have even a fraction of you.

She knelt on the ground, her hands bound behind her like a captured bird, the belt tight against her wrists. You moved around her slowly, like a predator circling its prey, the tension in the air thick enough to taste. Her eyes flickered to you, but her body remained still, the soft rustling of fabric the only sound as you drew near.

Every bone in your body screamed at you to walk away, to resist the urge, but seeing her—especially earlier, drenched in rain, her eyes pleading for your touch—was a temptation you couldn't ignore.

You’d moved past her. Moved past everything. She was a lousy girlfriend then, and nothing had changed. Now, she had a new girlfriend—if you could even call that wide-eyed freshman a girlfriend. More like a puppy, really. But seeing her, broken and desperate, begging for what you used to give her? You couldn’t help yourself. You were going to make her feel everything she did before—and then some.

It was a striking thing, seeing her so completely at your mercy. She used to be the one in control, always dominant, always pushing you around—and you, you let her. But not anymore. Not now. Now, the tables have turned. She needed you, not the other way around, and you made sure she understood that. With a sharp tug on her hair, you forced her gaze to meet yours.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you used your foot to spread her legs wide on the cold ground, ensuring her gaze stayed locked on you.

Ellie's breath catches as you spread her legs, the motion bold, deliberate—sending a shudder through her that you can almost feel in your own chest. She glares up at you, but now there's something else in her eyes—something uncertain, a crack in the defiance. Ellie licks her lips nervously, her usual bravado slipping away like a mask, leaving her raw and exposed in a way that stirs something in you. This isn't the Ellie you once knew, and that makes everything so much more... thrilling.

Her heart races as she feels your foot firmly press against her center through her jeans. Her eyes widen in shock and humiliation, but she can't help the way her body responds. Her breath catches in her throat as you maintain eye contact, dominating her completely.

Her face burns with embarrassment and arousal, but even she can't deny the heat building between her legs. "Fuck-" she whispers harshly, trying to maintain some dignity despite her vulnerable position. Her legs want to close, but your foot presses harder, keeping them firmly apart.

"Please, let me touch you, baby... That’s all I need..." Her voice trembles, low and pleading.

You chuckle darkly, the sound low and dangerous, before replying, "I told you, Ellie... you don’t get to touch me."

Ellie's lips part in disbelief, a frustrated whimper escaping as she realizes the cruel game you're playing. Her body aches to touch you, but your cold words remind her of the power she's lost. She glare up at you, her eyes flashing with mingled fury and desperate need.

Ellie's teeth grind together as she fights back a groan, your cruel denial stoking the flames of her arousal higher.

“Stand up.” You commanded

Her legs tremble slightly as your foot leaves its intimate position, leaving her feeling empty and aching. She struggles to stand on shaky legs, her pride demanding she maintain some semblance of dignity, despite the obvious effect you're having on her.

She stumbles forward, her hands reaching out to steady herself on the couch. You push her down roughly, making her sit on the edge of the cushion. Before she can react, you grab the hem of her pants and yank them down her legs, leaving her in nothing but her boxers.

She gasps in surprise as you quickly remove her boxers, leaving her completely exposed. Before she can process what's happening, your face is between her legs, your tongue delving into her soaked pussy. Ellie's back arches off the couch, a loud moan escaping her lips as you devour her.

Her hands fist in your hair, pulling desperately as she tries to pull you closer. Her hips buck against your face, seeking more contact, more friction. "Dammit, dammit," she pants, her body tensing as she tries to hold back the release you're pushing her towards.

As you continue to eat her out, you suddenly push two fingers inside her, stretching her open further. The sensation is too much, and Ellie's back arches off the couch as she screams in ecstasy. Her pussy clenches around your fingers, gushing with juice as you finger fuck her alongside your tongue.

Your fingers push inside her, stretching her tight pussy as you continue to lick and suck her clit. Ellie's legs shake violently, her whole body trembling as the dual sensations overwhelm her. She screams in ecstasy, her pussy clenching around your fingers as she cums hard, her juices flooding your mouth.

As she rides out her orgasm, you don't let up, continuing to eat her out and fuck her with your fingers. When she finally starts to come down, you add a third finger, scissoring them inside her to stretch her pussy even further.

The combination of your fingers and tongue becomes too much, overstimulating her. Ellie's vision starts to blur, her mind going blank as she's hit with an intense wave of pleasure. She screams again, her body convulsing as she experiences what feels like an endless orgasm.

“Mmm... you asked for this,” you murmur, a smirk tugging at your lips as you slowly withdraw your fingers, taking a deliberate step back. “You said you wanted me to make you feel good.”

You knew, deep down, that this wasn’t what she had in mind when she came to you, desperate for a ‘blast from the fucking past’. But that’s exactly what you intended to give her—whether she was ready for it or not.

The next day, the news came—she and her little freshman had broken up. You didn’t need the details; you already knew how it went down. It was always going to end like this. She’d come crawling back to you, driven by some half-baked nostalgia, thinking she could reclaim something that was long gone.

But she was foolish if she thought you’d take her back. That door had closed, and she had no one to blame but herself.

After class, you glance at your phone. A single message from Ellie: "Can we talk?"

You pause, the weight of her words settling in. She thought this was some simple conversation—someway to undo what had been done.

You don't rush to reply. Instead, you let the silence stretch. When you do finally respond, it's deliberate, cold: "What’s there to talk about?"

Her reply comes quick, desperate: "I need to explain..."

You smile to yourself, a small, satisfied thing. She needed to explain? There was nothing left to explain, but you knew what she wanted. She always did, didn’t she?

You meet her at the old usual spot, a dimly lit corner outside the café where you used to sit and talk—before everything went to shit. The air feels thick, charged with the weight of what happened, and Ellie stands there, fidgeting, her eyes on the ground.

You take your time walking toward her, letting the silence hang between you before you speak.

“I’m listening,” you say, your voice steady, almost too calm for the storm brewing beneath it.

Ellie looks up, her face flushed, eyes wide with that familiar desperation. She takes a step forward, her voice shaky but insistent. “There has to be something, right? After what happened… after that night… You made me feel something again. You made me feel so good. That has to mean something.”

Her words hang in the air, and you almost feel sorry for her, but the truth is, you don’t. Not anymore.

Ellie swallows, her gaze softening as if she’s trying to pull you back into the past. “You still love me. You have to. I know you do.”

You stare at her for a moment, allowing the silence to stretch uncomfortably before your lips curl into a cold, empty smile. “Love you?” you say, your voice low, almost mocking. “No, Ellie. I don’t love you.”

She flinches at the words, her eyes searching yours for something—anything—that would contradict what you just said. But there’s nothing there.

“You think I did this because I love you?” You shake your head, the laughter that follows bitter. “No. I did it because it felt good. Seeing you beneath me, broken, desperate—it gave me something I didn’t know I was missing.”

Her breath catches, and for a second, you almost feel the weight of her confusion, her shock, but you push it aside.

“You want to get back together?” you ask, the words dripping with disdain. “You’re pathetic, Ellie. You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

She tries to reach for your hand, but you step back, coldly rejecting her touch.

“No. You’ve had your chance. You don’t get to come back and rewrite what’s already been done.”

Low and behold, like the asshat she was, you'd heard from Dina how Ellie had been talking shit about you—spinning stories about how cruel you were, how you had used her, how you made her feel worthless. Typical Ellie, always turning herself into the martyr. Always blaming someone else for her own mess.

You hadn’t been surprised when Dina had spilled the details. You knew Ellie. She was the type who would do anything to make herself feel like she hadn’t been the one left behind, the one who hadn’t been able to make things work. The truth was, Ellie wasn’t strong enough to face what she had done, to admit that she had come crawling back to you, begging for something that she could never have again.

She couldn’t stand the thought of losing control over you. It was always about that. But now, that power was gone. She didn’t get to walk away from this with her head held high. No, she had made her bed. And you weren’t going to lie in it with her anymore.

You’d already heard her excuses, the things she’d said to Dina, how she made herself out to be the victim. And as much as it pissed you off, you weren’t surprised. This was Ellie’s game. It was always her way or no way. But you knew better than to get dragged back into her toxic cycle.

You remembered that night—the way she had begged, the way she had been so desperate for something, anything. But what had she really wanted? To feel wanted again? To feel like she still had some hold on you? To make herself feel better about all the times she’d walked away from you, played you like a fool?

Well, now, she was just another piece of your past. She wouldn’t go away. But you were done.

Even after everything, she kept finding ways to crawl back into your life—whether it was through casual texts, uninvited visits, or her half-hearted attempts to rekindle what was lost. She couldn’t just accept it. Couldn’t just walk away like she had all the power in the world. But you were done.

She kept telling herself that you’d come back. That you’d always come back. She couldn’t fathom that there was no room for her in your life anymore, no place for her desperate pleas to fit in. It didn’t matter how many times she tried to make herself the center of your world.

And yet, she wouldn’t go away. Not entirely.

Even now, you could feel her presence lingering, like some shadow that just wouldn’t dissipate. You weren’t sure what she expected from you, or why she kept thinking this twisted version of “us” could work, but there was no denying it. Ellie wouldn’t just let you move on. She had to cling to the past because, for her, it was all she knew.

But you? You were done. You weren’t going to chase after her anymore. You wouldn’t keep playing her game.

You couldn’t make her disappear, but you could walk away.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #lesbian #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou2 #tlou2 #the last of us #tlou #ellie fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fluff #tlou ellie #the last of us part 2 #ellie x fem reader

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woso-story · 3 months ago

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Mascot

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Baby x BarcaTeam

It was the final home game of the season for FC Barcelona, and the energy in the air was electric. Fans filled the stadium, eagerly awaiting the match, and the players in the locker room were buzzing with excitement. But there was something even more special about this day: Ingrid and Mapi's two-year-old daughter, Mila, was going to be the team’s mascot. It was a huge moment, a chance for the young girl to be a part of something much bigger than herself. But what no one could have predicted was how much drama and chaos would unfold as everyone tried to claim the right to walk out with her.

Ingrid and Mapi had both been looking forward to this day for weeks, eagerly preparing Mila for the moment she would step onto the pitch with one of the players. The anticipation was contagious, and soon, it was clear that the entire team was just as excited about it as they were. As soon as the news broke that Mila would be walking out onto the pitch with one of the players, the locker room erupted. Every player seemed to think that they should be the one walking out with Mila.

“I should walk out with her,” Mapi declared confidently, her voice carrying across the room. “She’s my daughter. It’s my right.”

Her words were met with a mix of reactions. Esmee, ever the contrarian, raised her eyebrows. “That can’t be the reason! Ingrid gave birth to Mila, so Ingrid should have the first right.”

Ingrid smiled and put a hand on Mapi’s shoulder, trying to keep the peace. “I don’t mind at all,” Ingrid said gently. “I’m just proud of her. It doesn’t matter to me who gets to walk out with her.”

But that was easier said than done. Esmee and Kika, notorious for their playful antics, began tossing around lollipops and candy, offering them to Mila in hopes of winning her favor. “Mila, sweetie, come with me, and I’ll give you all the sweets you can eat,” Esmee coaxed, holding up a candy bar.

Ingrid, eyes narrowing, scolded them with a look. “Don’t spoil her before the game, you two,” she said, but her voice was lighthearted, knowing there was no stopping them.

As the argument continued, Alexia, Mila’s godmother, piped up, “Wait a second. I’m Mila’s godmother, so I should be the one walking out with her.” She grinned playfully, though there was a competitive edge to her tone.

Frido, not one to be left out, immediately joined in, “I’m Mila’s godmother too. I have just as much of a right as you, Alexia! And besides, she loves me the most!”

The back-and-forth grew more intense as everyone tried to prove why they should be Mila’s chosen partner. Aitana, who had been watching the frenzy quietly, finally spoke up, her voice calm and reassuring, “For me, it doesn’t matter who walks out with her. I’m just proud of Mila.”

But it wasn’t enough to calm the storm. Patri was now trying to convince Mila that she was the most fun. “You should choose me! I’m the fun one, Mila. I’m the one who knows how to have a good time!” She winked as she squatted down in front of Mila, making silly faces to entertain her

It was clear that this decision wasn’t going to be easy. The room had descended into complete pandemonium. Every player seemed convinced that they were the one Mila would choose, and the noise and bickering were reaching a fever pitch.

Ingrid, trying to maintain some semblance of control, raised her hands, demanding silence. “Okay, that’s enough!” she called out, her voice firm but not unkind. “The only person who gets to decide who Mila walks out with is Mila herself.”

A hush fell over the room as everyone turned to look at Ingrid. Mapi, standing beside her, had a soft smile on her face, her confidence unwavering. She was Mila’s mother, after all. Mila loved her, and Mapi was the one who made her laugh and played with her every day. Of course, Mila would want to walk out with her.

Ingrid gently sat Mila down on a bench in the locker room, her fingers brushing back Mila’s wild curls as Mapi knelt beside her. The two of them looked down at their daughter, who was blissfully unaware of the whirlwind of drama she had caused.

“Mila,” Ingrid asked, her voice soft, “who do you want to walk out with today? You can pick anyone you like.”

Mapi leaned forward, her expression full of love and hope. “Come on, sweetheart, you want to walk out with your mami, don’t you?” she said, her voice full of affection.

Mila, who had been playing with the corner of her jacket, looked up at both of them, her little face scrunching in thought. Then, without warning, she got up, her tiny feet padding across the locker room floor. She toddled straight over to Caroline, who was standing by the door, watching with a warm smile.

Mila stopped in front of Caroline, her tiny arms reaching up, and with a determined look on her face, she said, “I want to go with Caroline.”

The room went silent as everyone processed what had just happened. Mapi’s face fell, her heart sinking as she realized that Mila had chosen someone else. Caroline, her smile wide and gentle, scooped Mila up into her arms, clearly touched by the choice.

“You want to go with me?” Caroline asked, holding Mila close. “Of course, sweetie.”

Mapi’s expression was a mix of shock, hurt, and confusion. How could her own daughter pick someone else? How could Mila, who had spent so much time with Mapi, choose Caroline over her?

Ingrid, seeing Mapi’s reaction, chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through her hair. She kissed Mapi on the top of her head. “Well, I guess Mila made her choice,” Ingrid said, her voice warm but teasing. “Let’s not argue about it.”

But Mapi couldn’t shake the feeling of being betrayed. “I don’t get it. How could she choose Caroline? I’m her mami!”

The rest of the team, though disappointed, had to accept Mila’s decision. A few muttered under their breath, “Of course it’s Caroline, the favorite Tia,” but the tension slowly started to dissipate.

So, it was settled. Mila would walk out with Caroline. The two of them stood in the tunnel before the match, Caroline holding Mila securely in her arms, while Mila proudly wore a jersey with the words “Engen-Leon” printed on the back, a small tribute to both of her mothers. Mapi stood nearby, still looking slightly betrayed but also proud. She couldn’t help but smile when she saw how happy Mila looked.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the teams made their way onto the pitch. The crowd erupted into cheers as the teams made their way onto the pitch. Mila, laughing and waving, basked in the adoration of the fans. She was clearly enjoying the attention, delighted by the cheers and the energy of the stadium. She even made it into the team picture, beaming as she held the pennant. Afterward, Mila high-fived each player, before Ingrid took her to the bench.

---

After the match, the final whistle blew, and the crowd erupted into cheers. FC Barcelona had secured another win, and the players were basking in the glory of the victory. But for Mapi, the best moment came when she spotted Mila running toward her on the pitch.

With her little feet scrambling across the grass, Mila’s face was lit up with excitement, her eyes wide and full of joy from the experience of being the mascot. Mapi crouched down as Mila reached her, her arms open wide.

“Mami!” Mila squealed, launching herself into Mapi’s embrace.

Mapi caught her effortlessly, lifting her high into the air and spinning her around in delight. The stadium lights shone down, casting a glow on the two of them, and Mapi couldn’t help but smile, her heart swelling with pride.

“You did so great out there, baby,” Mapi said, her voice soft with affection as she held Mila close.

Mila giggled, her little hands clapping in excitement. “I waved at the people!” she announced, as if it was the most important thing in the world.

Mapi laughed, pressing a kiss to Mila’s forehead. “Yes, you did! You were perfect.”

They stood there for a moment, taking in the moment together, surrounded by the energy of the crowd, the celebrations, and the vibrant pitch. Mapi held Mila close, feeling the warmth of her little body against her chest, and she knew that this was the kind of moment that made everything worth it.

Despite the earlier confusion over who would walk out with Mila, the joy on her daughter’s face was all Mapi needed. She gently set Mila down, watching as she toddled around, chasing after a ball one of the other players kicked her way.

As Mapi stood there, taking in the scene, she felt a quiet sense of contentment. No matter what had happened, she was here with her daughter on the pitch, and that was enough.

#mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid engen and mapi leon #woso fics #barca femeni #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #caroline graham hansen

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wetpussyju1ce · 11 days ago

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Coconut & Tangerines

jax teller x poc fem reader

1.7k words

tags: pining, love at first sight, size difference, threats of violence, canon-typical jax behaviour/violence, Jax is in lovvveeeee, not beta read, writer is in love w this dumbass and thanks to him, this side blog exists + he brought writer out a writing rut <3 all because he made me horny. don't ever underestimate the power of an ovulating woman and her pussy. amen.

Jax doesn't expect to meet the love of his life in their dingy bar, barrelling through the doors, fuming and crying no less.

Everything was as usual, smoke filled up the place, stinking like tobacco and cheap beer. Men laughed and cheered as they played pool and gambled, random profanities would be shouted once in a while over the radio playing in the background. It was just like any other day, pretty mundane for the gang of bike riders, that is until the doors burst open, a pretty sight graced their establishment.

Jax didn't look up from the game of cards he was in the middle of, that is until she spoke, "Where is he?" The words were growled, more like. With as much ferocity as a kitten in Jax's eyes when he finally looked over.

The girl was panting, standing there while clutching her handbag in one hand, and her phone in the other. Her eyes were glassy and furious, scanning the bar's clientele frantically, looking for someone. And, Jax hoped that no one of the assholes in his gang were dating her because she was oh so pretty. She had on a long sleeved white top, the material soft and fluffy, cropped and falling off one pretty shoulder, her hips were covered in a small jean skirt, held close by a sparkly silver belt, more for show than anything as the skirt was tight and small enough to stay still on her body.

Then came in her heeled boots, that stopped right where her knees started, leaving the soft skin of her thighs exposed to the elements, and to the eyes of everyone in the bar to ogle at.

"Where are you? You stupid dickhead!" She shouts, pushing through the bigger bodies of the bike riders in search of the origin of her anger. Jax leans back in his chair, to get a better view of her glassy eyes and those devastatingly gorgeous and plump pink lips, the lower lip trembling when she's not shouting.

That's when she finally gets her hands on a shoulder, spins the man around and rips the hood off his head, Jax's frowns when he sees a young face, a much too young face to be in here. So he pushes his chair back, placing his cards face down and walking towards the woman and the boy she just grabbed, "Did you lose your fucking mind? What the fuck are you doing here? Your friend told me about your little plan!!"

She's fuming, crying now, hitting the boy on the chest, and be barely budges, her hits not affecting him in the slightest, but her words do make him lower his head in embarrassment at getting caught. "Huh? What do you have to say for yourself?"

The whole bar is watching them at this point, no one moving to interrupt them, watching the drama unfold. Except Jax, who easily makes his way to the crying, distressed girl, "Now, what's going on here?"

He stands next to the girl with the wet Bambi eyes, offers her a small smile and looks at the boy, putting a hand on his shoulder, "How old are you, son?"

The boy shakes his shoulder, trying to escape his grip with an uncomfortable look on his face, "I'm 18-"

"He's 15, and he's my little brother." She sniffles and glares at her brother.

"You're not old enough to drink, but you knew that. So why did you really come here?" Jax asked, bending his head to try and meet her brother's eyes. The boy doesn't say anything and when Jax thinks he won't speak, he looks up, meets his eyes with as much confidence as possible and says, "Let me in your gang."

Jax just stares at him, "Do you even have a motorcycle?"

"I'm not stupid, I know what you do! I'm fast and-" Jax decided he's heard enough and grabs him by the neck like a disobedient pup and drags him out of the bar, his sister right behind them as the boy tries to escape his hold, spitting curses left and right.

"Actually, you are pretty fucking stupid. You want to know to know why?" Jax throws him on the pavement, watching the boy catch himself on his hands and knees. "I'll tell you," He runs a hand through his hair, "You believe made up stories you hear in the streets, and that will get you killed. That's why you need to stay in high-school and never step a foot in our bar!"

Jax sighs, "You better thank your sister for saving your life."

Her brother gets up, looking extremely embarrassed and angry, dusting himself off, he clenches his fist and glares at Jax, at that he can understand, the boy is young and dumb, he was handled like a puppy out in public. But what he can't stand for, is when her brother turns to glare at his sister, and Jax moves the second he sees the boy take a step forward, jaw set and fists clenched.

Jax stands in front of her like a mountain, "Try it, and I'll break your fucking jaw, boy."

Jax hears a whimper and his blood boils, his sister cares for his well-being and the shit wanted to repay her kindness with violence and hurt.

Her brother spits right in front of Jax's feet and takes off. Jax would chase him and set him straight if it was any other day, but it wasn't. He had the prettiest and sweetest girl in his hands to check up on. Jax straightens his kutte and turns around, seeing sadness written all over her smaller face. She covers her face with her hands and lowers her body so she sits on the hard, cold and dirty concrete of the pavement.

He looks around, rubbing the back of his neck as he watches her shoulders slump and her phone to ding with a notification, she wipes her wet eyes with the back of her hand and reads the message she received. Her wet, dark eyelashes blink as her eyes read over the message and she sighs again, eyes welling up with tears. Jax sighs and goes to sit next to her as she shoves her phone in her handbag.

"You alright?" He asked, studying the side of her devastatingly gorgeous face.

She sniffles and turns to look at him, their bodies just barely touching, and Jax's heart jumps at the bounce of her dark curls, framing her face like a cloud, a real life angel, "I was meant to go on a date, you know?"

"What happened?" He blinks.

"I'm officially 30 minute late and my date messaged me. Let's just say he isn't happy at being stood up." She mumbles. Jax hums, "Why don't you call him and explain why you're late?"

She closes her eyes for a second, then opens them again, smile wobbly, "He's going on a date with another girl. He hates me now. It won't change anything."

Jax frowns, "Sorry but your date sounds like an asshole. You could have been kidnapped or got into an accident and he's-"

"It's okay," She chuckles, not a ounce of humour behind it.

"It's not. You've had a down right shitty day, darlin'" Jax says, suddenly getting up. "Look, come have a drink or two." He sticks one of his hands out, looking at her expectantly. She bites her lower lip, "I'm sorry I don't- I don't drink." Jax smiles a little, "Then how about this, let's get ice-cream."

She brings her knees to her chest and shakes her head, "I don't-"

"You're already all dolled up, so you may as well do something. Let yourself have one good thing today, hm? On me." Jax added, he's starting to feel a little stupid because he's sure he's not being subtle at all. He hopes he doesn't come off as some jackass who sees her as an opportunity. He wants to help, he really does. And the fact that she happens to be so pretty that it makes his heart melt, wasn't his fault. "And we'll talk about your brother too, if you want."

She thinks about it and nods, finally placing her hand in his. Jax's eyes almost widen at the size difference, but he acts cool and clears his throat, getting his hand back to shove it in his pocket, his fingers tingling where she touched him. She dusts herself off, wiping the back of her skirt with her hand as he rushes inside to settle his tab, slamming cash on the counter and ignoring his guy's hollers and whoops, he shakes his head, a small smile on his lips as he makes his way to his parked bike, pulling his keys out of his pockets.

"Have you ridden a bike before?" He asked, getting his only helmet out as she made her way to him, looking at his bike, "Like this? No."

"I'll drive slow, don't worry." He kindly smiled at her, taking a step towards her, holding his helmet with both hands, "Can I?"

"Oh yeah, of course." She jumps, straightening her back and watching Jax push her curls out of her forehead with his fingers, and then place his helmet carefully over her head, snapping it shut and taking a step back.

She watches him throw a leg over the machine and put his key in the ignition, the beast roaring to life as he pulls it up with his feet and arms, "Get on," He motions with his head and she wears her handbag on one arm and sits behind him, getting comfortable and placing her hands on his shoulders, "What's your name?" She asked.

"Jax. What's yours?" He said loudly over his bike's engine. She replied and he whipped his head back, "WHAT?"

She nudged closer, repeating her name again and he grinned, knowing full well he heard her the first time, he just wanted her closer, for safety purposes of course!

"You smell real nice, what's that?" He shouted over his shoulder. She got closer, her chest pressed against his back, "Coconut and Tangerines lotion!" Jax grinned, she smelled delicious and he was hungry. He hopes wherever they're going, that they'll have tangerines flavoured ice cream, because he really doesn't think she'll let him bury his teeth in her sweet skin like a greedy bastard after knowing him for 10 minutes. Or maybe she would, who knows.

"Where's your helmet?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his waist as he finally turned the bike around, entering the road.

Jax looked over his shoulder, "Don't worry about that. Hold tight, Tangy." That's all the warning she got before he took off, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

"I'll drive slow" my ass.

#fanfiction #fanfic #jackson jax teller #jackson teller #jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller x reader #jax teller x y/n #jax teller x you #soa #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy jax #soa x reader #soa jax #soa fanfiction #soa imagine #soa ff #charlie hunnam characters

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lecsainz · 2 years ago

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main thing

request: charles + a famous actress who is about 2 years older than charles and has a daughter from another relationship, but the biological father is not in the picture (or he is an idiot)

pairings: charles leclerc x actress!reader

authors note: man, it took me almost two days to write this, ugh! hate getting that writer's block in the middle of something I start. I was like, "come on brain, why you gotta do me like that?" but nah, it wouldn't cooperate. so frustrating!

✩. . . masterlist !

PART TWO

Age Gap Romance Takes a Dark Turn, Leaving Y/N Struggling with Broken Heart and Baby Daughter

By TMZ Entertainment News

Hollywood's buzzing with the latest shocking breakup, and this time it involves rising starlet Y/N Y/L/N and her much older ex-boyfriend, a prominent music mogul. As the dust settles, insiders reveal that the split was anything but amicable, leaving the 28-year-old actress devastated and facing heartache alone with their baby daughter, Sophie.

Sources close to the couple paint a picture of a once fairy-tale romance that crumbled under the weight of immense pressures and a significant age gap. Y/N and her ex, whose name we won't disclose for legal reasons, initially captured the public's attention with their whirlwind love affair.

Despite the initial bliss, the relationship quickly took a tumultuous turn, with the insider sharing, "It was a rollercoaster from the beginning. The age difference played a big role in their clashes, but Y/N was deeply in love and believed they could make it work."

However, cracks in their love story started to show, and rumors of disagreements and heated arguments circulated throughout Tinseltown. Our sources indicate that the final straw came when the music mogul reportedly abandoned Y/N and their infant daughter, Sophie, leaving her shattered and blindsided.

"It was like he flipped a switch," another insider revealed. "He just walked away, leaving Y/N and Sophie to pick up the pieces. It was a shock to everyone, even those closest to them."

The breakup was described as "dramatic and emotional," with Y/N left grappling with the aftermath of his sudden departure while caring for her baby daughter. Friends of the actress confirm that she's going through an incredibly tough time, trying to navigate single motherhood while nursing a broken heart.

"It's heartbreaking to see Y/N going through this," said one close friend. "She's a strong woman, but this has taken a toll on her. Sophie is her world, and she's solely focused on being the best mom she can be for her daughter."

As for the music mogul's actions, sources claim that he has shown little remorse for the way things ended. "He's been dismissive and unapologetic," one industry insider revealed. "It's like he's moved on without a second thought, leaving Y/N to pick up the pieces."

For now, Y/N is surrounding herself with a support system of friends and family, relying on their love and encouragement during this challenging time. Hollywood is buzzing with the news of the breakup, and fans around the world are sending messages of love and strength to the young actress.

As this Hollywood drama unfolds, the world will be watching to see how Y/N navigates her way through heartbreak and single motherhood. We'll continue to bring you the latest updates on this gripping story, so stay tuned for more.

ynupdates

liked by charlesleclerc , selenagomez , and 28.879 others

ynupdates sun, sand, and summer vibes with yourinstagram and the girls! beach day in monaco is lit! no room for negativity here – just good times, laughter, and making memories with our faves y/n and selenagomez! and of course, little sophie is the cutest beach babe ever!

view all 9.497 comments

selenagomez ❤️❤️❤️

f1addiction CHARLES WHAT YOU DOING HERE??

ynmoves my girl looks so happy 😁

ylngomez i LOVE this friendship

lecslerccc charles that’s is a move?

saaaainz he just liked is nothing to worry 😭

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lurkingshan · 6 months ago

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10 Things I Love About Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

This wonderful little show has come to an end, and I feel compelled to tell folks why I loved it, and why you should watch if you haven't yet. First, a big word of thanks to @isaksbestpillow for providing her excellent subtitles and making this show available to international fans. You can find all seven episodes here, get them while you can!

This drama understands that sometimes we really do want to fuck that old man

I don't know what to tell you, the man is hot. He is kind, patient, and generous, he's a master chef, he has a beautiful home with a garden that he tends himself, he is a loving dog owner, and on top of all that he has a hilarious dry wit. Who wouldn't want to fuck him??

Ishida is an endearing protagonist having a relatable quarter life crisis

Ishida certainly does! Which is a nice little revelation for him in a time when he's already struggling to figure himself out, as it's his first time wanting to fuck a man and his work colleague to boot. Ishida has hit a stumble in his original career choice and is feeling pretty apathetic about his job when he meets Mitsuya and gets his world rocked.

Mitsuya is a weary older man who has been burned

Mitsuya is quite a contrast to Ishida as an older adult who very much has his shit together, but has also survived some deep hurts living as an out gay man and grown reluctant to let people in. He and Ishida both see something in each other that the other needs.

It's a food drama that will make your mouth water

The food Mitsuya makes and serves to Ishida in this show looks so delicious that I had to make sure I was fed before watching each episode. Mitsuya can feel free to bait me with food any time.

Shige is my idol

We get to spend ample time at the neighborhood bar, where Mitsuya's old friend Shige serves drinks and hot goss. Shige is a great mix of the wise elder gay dispensing advice and the mischievous trouble maker who likes to stir the pot. I love him, and this show's understanding of the realities of men their age living out and proud.

Frito is a very good dog

FRITO! I'm not always too hype about pets with prominent roles in my shows, but in this story Frito is an important character and an emotional support to Mitsuya, and often provides impetus for Mitsuya and Ishida to grow closer.

Have I mentioned this show is hilarious

Truly, so funny. I laughed out loud during most episodes. Ishida is a walking comedy show as he flails through life, and the few moments when Mitsuya's dignified exterior cracks will have you howling.

It gave us one of the best dates I have ever seen on my screen

I still think about this date all the time. It was so beautifully written to underscore why this couple fits and how they each meet the needs of the other. Just having seen this one day spent together, it's easy to understand how a life between the two of them would unfold.

This show has a mature and nuanced understanding of relationships

We get deep into the show's perspective on love and romantic relationships via the return of Mitsuya's ex, Kaoru, a plot which the story handles with remarkable grace. I loved the space they gave to Mitsuya's former love and need for closure, and that Kaoru was not treated like a villain. He even got to provide an assist to Ishida!

The main romance feels deep and compelling

All of this adds up so that by the time we got to the finale, I really believed in this romance and why Ishida and Mitsuya needed each other, and the way the show dug into their hesitations and fears around that was so moving. My only regret is this show is short and we can't follow them to keep watching their lives together, but we got what we needed to feel confident in their future. I will miss them.

#mr mitsuyas planned feeding #mitsuya sensei no keikakuteki na ezuke #japanese bl #jdrama #shan recommends #10 things #shan shouts into the void

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angelsleepinggurl · 9 months ago

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𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙈𝙔 𝙉𝙊𝙊𝙉𝙄𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝙋𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙆𝙄𝙍𝙏

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. As a popular, pretty, head cheerleader in highschool with thee perfect dreamy boyfriend, you could not ask for more, your life is perfect. after an exhilarating football match, you and your boyfriend find a way to 'cool down' before heading out for dinner with the winning team.

wc. around 2,780

tags. satoru gojo x reader. populargojo! x reader. satoru gojox reader smut. all characters are 18 years old. alternative au. non curse au. highschool au. fucking in a car. unprotected sex. dirty talk.hitting it raw. dom yn (temp). riding. squirting.18+ mdni!

.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒..⭒☆━━━

You live for your school's games. The field always seems to be pulsating with an electric energy in, as people roar from the bleachers in hopes of their team winning. You'd been on the cheer team for as long as you can remember. You initially joined it when your friend Jodie persuaded you, saying you had a really great sense of rhythm and natural ability to dance, compared to others your age. You didn't think much of it at the time, you didn't even think you'd make it past the tryouts. But once, they got you in that bright uniform, you knew you'd love it. It made you feel like the girl you wanted to be whenever you held pom poms in your hand, whenever you got ready to cheer for a game. It’s the only time you don't feel timid standing in front of people. Now as a senior, you've managed to embody the girls you look up to when you were a freshman as you become team captain.

Your best friend Geto Suguru is playing tonight, out on the endless field of green. Cheering for your friends never failed to make you smile, filling you with a buzz as you stood in formation with your team, roaring out a chant with them. Amidst the sea of spirited faces adorned in school colours, there was only one face that stood out to you, smiling at you from above.

The school’s heartthrob: Satoru Gojo. Your boyfriend.

The two of you got together in Junior year, he noticed you when Geto dragged him to one of his games. That night you were practicing leading the team for a dance. Ever since then, he was hooked. The way you moved, the way your hair fell, the way your lips curved into a pretty smile. He wanted you. He needed you. He had to have you. Something about your air and manner had his love-struck for you. He’d try his hardest to strike up a conversation with you after classes, at lunch after school. Though you played hard to get, you couldn’t deny how your heart would beat a little faster when he was nearby. The tension between the two of you was undoubted and heated, the both of you communicated through flirting. Even before the two of you started dating people started to identify you as a couple. The couple.

The crowd is buzzing with animated chatter, a cacophony of voices rising and falling like waves. Laughter, cheers, and the occasional jeer painted the backdrop for the unfolding drama. Looking up into the stands again you make eye contact with Satoru again. A familiar smirk on his lips as he watched you like a predator watching and waiting for their prey. It wasn’t strange for you and Gojo to fuck after games, he just found your uniform irresistible. The short skirts, tight tops, how it fit your form perfectly, how could he not be turned on?

“We got it all together, We're fighting for a win TMCC on top again!” You all chant, rearranging and organising yourselves fluidly into new formations as you all chant and cheer. You watch as he leans back in his seat, the grin on his face getting wider. You notice him readjust in his seat as he manspreads.

The air is hot, the tension is almost tangible, and you can feel the heat grow from within you, as you lock eyes with his cerulean blue ones.

The scent of freshly popped popcorn wafts through the air, blending with the familiar aroma of sweat and anticipation.

The announcer's voice resonates through the field, commentating on the progress of the game. With each dribble, pass, and score, the field becomes a theatre of emotions. The crowd's reactions painted full gasps of disbelief, exuberant cheers, and groans of disappointment. Every point scored was met with an explosion of noise,

As the clock ticks down, the atmosphere intensifies and your cheers get louder. You and your team doing your best to motivate the players to victory.

The stadium roared with anticipation as the two teams clashed in an intense soccer battle. Tension hung in the air with each kick, and the crowd's collective breath held as the clock ticked down. The teams were now tied and time was running out. All eyes watched the players in suspense, all awaiting for the final goal.

Geto cut through the players, a determined look in his eyes. Strands of his tied-up hair fall loose and out of place and he wizzes down the field. He looked at his teammate, signalling him that he had it all under control. A subtle nod from his teammate and the ball was now at his feet. Everyone watching and the other team closing in on him. With his collected thoughts, Geto turns and dribbles through the opponents, careful to not lose the ball in the final minutes.

The goalkeeper seemed determined to block the ball but once Geto kicked the ball, it flew up into the air and hurtling towards the net at a whopping speed.

And GOAL!

They’d won! Geto pulled his team through. All his teammates jumped on him pulling him into a triumphant hug. The entire stadium thundered in celebration creating a symphony of joy that reverberated through the air.

You screamed and jumped for Geto, feeling immensely proud of your friend.

Soon, everyone dispersed from the stadium and you stayed to congratulate your cheer squad on their efforts and energy. A hand snakes around your waist, and as you look up you see a familiar mop of white hair next to you.

“Toru, I thought I told you to wait for me outside.” You scold him “I’m trying to talk to my team.”

“It’s okay girl, y’all are cute we’ll forget about this.” Jodie pipes in leading the group of girls who kept whining about how jealous they were of your relationship, and how they wanted a boyfriend like Satoru.

“See you guys Thursday, Well done!” You shot after them, watching the group of girls dissipate. Seconds after, the tall frame of Suguru Geto walks up to the two of you. Satoru releases his grip on you and walks up to his friend slapping him on the back and congratulating him on his win.

“Well done Geto.” You say once the two boys walk back up to you.

Geto put his hand in your hair ruffling your pigtails a little bit. “Thanks. Hey where do you guys wanna eat after this, it’ll be on me.” Geto asks.

“Let it be on me, you won.” Gojo insists which Geto doesn’t comply against. “We should go to Five Guys.” He suggests and you all nod in agreement. “See you over there bro.”

“See ya dude.” Geto says, leaving the two of you alone again.

Gojo's lips immediately found yours, kissing you with so much vigour as if he was trying to suck the air out of you. “Wasn’t someone being naughty today.” He whispers in your ear, causing you to bite your lip in excitement as you know where this is going.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say with faux innocence. He smirks as his fingers find their way into your pigtails, playing with the ribbon and twirling them together.

The two of you start walking towards his car, his arm around your waist. His fingers toy with the hem of your skirt and flick the band of your panties against your skin.

“Geez Satoru, can’t even wait now can we.” You say with a smirk leaning in front of the car door now.

“Says you. I saw you out there, shaking and twirling for me. Y’were doin' it s'much I could tell you your panty colour." He responds, opening the car door for you.

“Okay then, what colour are my panties?” You ask teasingly, playing with your lip between your teeth.

“I may need to get a better look.” He whispers to you, before closing your car door and walking over to his. The second his car door closes he immediately starts kissing you sensually, as if if he didn’t kiss you any other way you would disappear from him completely. His lips were fast and his tongue was skilled in making casual unexpected appearances, but his touch was gentle, cupping your face in his hands as if you were the most delicate thing in the world.

You sigh, unable to wait any longer. Swiftly, you climb onto Satoru’s lap. He breaks the kiss and chuckles a little. “Eager now aren’t we.”

Instead of responding you start rocking your hips back and forth. Snapping them forward and rolling them back. With every movement, you could feel him grow from underneath you. “Who’s eager now.” you whisper a smirk on your lips.

“What a bad girl. I didn’t know my girl was like this.” he says, his large hands now groping your ass. With one swift movement, his hand lifts up your skirt to reveal underwear in all its glory, a pretty blue colour. “Oh, they really were blue. Luckily I got this opportunity to see you wearing my favourite colour panties.” His longer finger looks under the hemline of your underwear this time, slyly sliding down, inching towards your clit.

“Not so fast big boy. ” you whisper teasingly, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw, relishing the moment. “ You need to be patient.” by now the white-haired maile is finding it extremely difficult to sit still and let you do all the work, he’s itching for his hands to roam your body, your curves your tits, all of you. Gojo is a very handsy guy when it comes to both of you, he’s always touching you in some manner, it’s like the guy doesn’t know anything about personal space. So for you to ask him to remain hands off is torture, resulting in his grunting and groaning restlessly, yet still, he obeys your wishes to let you take charge. This side of you is not something the guy is used to seeing and it’s seriously turning him on. You feel his bulge press against your clothed wetness, making you giggle.

“Already excited prince? Y’thinking bout how this pussy is gonna suck you in, hmm Satoru.” you hum yet again, and Gojo doesn't respond, he shifts in his seat yet again. “Looks like the prince is lost for words, I wonder if I should just-” Your fingers travel down to his trousers, speedily pulling the zip of them down. Watching the tent, spring upright. Your hand slowly starts palming his hard-on, a specific spot dampening with pre-cum. Exactly the sight you’ve been waiting to see all night. “You wanna feel me big boy?” you ask, your voice sounding like honey in his ear like a siren’s voice hypnotizing and tempting him. It is like his body is the only one speaking for him, the way he nods and swallows, hard. You watch intently as his Adam apple bobs on his throat, turning you on even more. Without wasting any more time, you grab his hand, slithering it down your panties. “Feel how wet you made me?” You whimper, slowly riding yourself on his fingers, feeling absolutely ecstatic. Your other free hand, slowly palming him still.

Although the usually rebellious guy is for once doing as you say, it does;t feel right. You pull his hand out of your underwear, which he doesn't put up a fight for. A pout forms on your lips as you look up at him through your lashes. “Why aren’t you responding to me?” you whine, self-doubting your skills at being dominating in this setting.

Gojo doesn’t speak up yet, his words lost in his throat as his eye slock unto yours. “ Cuz if I start talking and taking charge, we won’t be leaving this car anytime soon.” This is the first time you've seen such a sight on the white-haired male, a deep blush generously dusting both his cheeks. The both of you maintain eye contact, feeling the tension heighten and instantaneously the both of you run purely on feeling. Your hand sliding down his boxers to pull out his dick. His tip is a bright red with pre-cum rolling down to the base. You gather spit in your mouth and watch as it slowly drops down onto his member. He twitches once your spit touches it. Sensitive. A couple pumps with your hand and the man is already whimpering quietly.

He is totally not getting away with this. You smirk.

“You want me to put it in big boy?” you ask him. His usual persona is back when he instructs you to “ Put it in princess.” his eyes low and closed with intense lust. You slowly lower yourself down, taking in all his inches, till it can’t be seen anymore. It’s all in and you feel stuffed as always, it’s like his dick was made for you.

“Fuck.” you whisper breathlessly. Satoru’s hand snakes its way to your hips, placing a firm grip on them.

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help it. You just look so good.” With ease the male lifts you up slightly and plops you back down again, your weight sinking down on him. With every time your body is lifted and every time his dick grazes that sensitive spot in your warm cunt, your moans get louder and louder. The sounds of skin slapping are now loud in the car and the windows are starting to fog up. You place your hands on his shoulders once he pauses to get a good grip on your ass, using it to help lift you easier and to thrust into you faster. You don’t seem to be complaining about the fact he’s adapted his usual dominating role again, as each repetitive thrust makes your mind cloud. With your thighs dripping in your arousal and with your cunt squeezing him tightly, Gojo starts to grunt as you moan into his neck, begging and pleading for him to not stop and to “keep going.”

“Fuck Toru, hmmm. Feel’s s’ good.” you whine, laying your head in the crook of his neck, the smell of sex filling your nose, a thin layer of sweat covering his chest. “Don’t stop Toru.” you cry out.

“Do you hear how wet you are f’me? Hmm? We’re you thinking about me during the game. Thinking about me touching you, about me fucking you?” he asks teasingly, the smirk evident in his voice. All you do is moan in response, nodding your head desperately. “Tell me what you were imagining princess.”

“Was thinking about you fucking me like how you are. Ohh fuck.” your mind is turning hazy, the only goal in your mind is finishing. “ Was thinking about how you’d call me a good girl for doing so well. Was thinkin’ bout cumming all over your dick babe.” you answer.

“Oh? I knew my girl had a dirty mind, didn’t know you were so nasty though ” he comments., intently watching your striped skirt hang from your waist, its movements in sync with his thrusts.

“Wanna come Satoru, pleaseee.” you whine unsure of how much longer you can hold out for.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll let you come.” he groans in your ear, the sound of his grunts and groans nearly sending you over the edge. A repetitive string of “ Please, Please, Please.” And “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” leave your lips in alternating patterns. The guy is thrusting into you like a machine, like there's no tomorrow like this time will be your last. “Shit.” he huffs, feeling his own end approach. Your grip on his shoulders tighten, your jaw goes slack and your body goes limp. You feel the familiar knot in your stomach tighten and soon you’re cumming, hard… and everywhere. A wetness gushes out of you but this time, landing everywhere.

“Good girl. you squirted for me.” he congratulates, a few thrusts away from his own pleasure, and now with every thrust your high is prolonged, leaving you overstimulated. You’re screaming in pleasure and soon the white-haired male is moaning loudly too, his cum shooting up into your warm cunt, making you whine in pleasure. Tears fall from your eyes, from overstimulation. The both of you remain completely still and silent, slowly riding out your highs, both of you panting for air.

The both of your cum drips out of your stuffed hole, making a mess.

“Geto’s gonna get suspicious that we’ve been gone for so long.” you say, craning your head to look up at him.

“Who cares what that fool thinks? Round 2.”

.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒..⭒☆━━━

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