#and forgets about him for a month or two in between
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ㅤ [ 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬 ]
premise. if you were a better woman, you wouldn't be sleeping with your husband's driver. it's just that there's something about a broken marriage and an overeager young man to fuck you
tags #ㅤfranco colapinto/female reader, infidelity, porn with little plot, mentions of gambling addiction, younger franco colapinto, older reader wc #ㅤ 1k
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You tell yourself over and over again that it would be the last time. Over and over again, you find yourself in the arms of Franco Colapinto. It would be damn near guilt wrecking if not for your own husband being determined to waste his millions in gambling to even notice your sullen heart. If he wasn’t so blinded by his own greed, maybe you would forgive him. Maybe you would feel a single ounce of guilt if he didn’t piss you off. Every second more into your marriage, it’s like he forgets that he ever married you to begin with. The only thing you are to him is a bed warmer. The bed has been cold for months.
Franco is… something. He’s younger, athletic—the fucking Formula 1 driver under your husband’s team. He’s the driver he favours among his current and even old ones. Fucking him almost felt like a big fuck you to your husband. You don’t really care. When you’re in the garage, Franco talks to you more than your husband. He’s eyeing you from the other side, distracted by your presence as his engineer explains to him whatever it is that they need to explain. The sport never really had a big impact on you before, you only had to fake it for the marriage. There are no faux smiles or excitement this time.
He approaches you, mischief in his eyes. “Who are you here to support,” he asks, looking around as he whispers into your ears, “your husband or me?” The scoff you let out is a bit too loud. It’s like the man doesn’t have censorship. The flirt radiating off of him blinds his other great features as a driver.
“Go race, boy,” you tell him. He’s not so annoyed at the nickname, but he's more amused by your names. “It’d make my partner very, very happy if you were to get a win today.” As if on cue, your husband calls him over. He glances at you briefly but looks as if he thinks nothing of it. It’s just Franco talking to his wife, nothing suspicious at all. The man is a mouse that continues to think that its cheese is safe to consume. A rat. Starving, greedy, and blind.
Later that night, it’s not your husband’s hotel room you enter. Your heart raced as Franco’s strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his sweat-slicked body. Beneath you, his hotel bed creaks as he has you once more in his bed. Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, your breath hitching in your throat. His lips, soft and insistent, trailed along your jawline.
"Mmm, you feel incredible," he murmured a sensual purr that resonated. You can’t shake off the feeling of his embrace. There’s something more to it. There’s heat that builds between the two of you, something all-consuming. His fingers danced along your skin. You arched into his touch, craving more, always wanting more of him. Never have you been able to say no to his touch. Thinking a little bit, you compare this addiction to your husband’s.
Your hands, in turn, explored the hard planes of his chest, revelling in the way his arms flexed beneath your fingertips. His skin was hot. Rhythmic pounding of his heart alongside your own. It’s in time with the few grunts he lets out, enjoying the ecstasy of your cunt sucking him in. His eyes are half open, unfocused and completely lost in the feeling of you. You can feel it in the harsh thrusts, the chase in his hips and the grip of his hands.
"Fuck, that’s so good, baby" you breathed. He chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. The hands move from your hips and down to your thighs—pulling it up as it gives him a new angle to work with. The suddenness makes you let out a gasp, feeling his balls draw up to your ass with each deep thrust inside of you. It gets you shaking. You can feel heat spread inside of you, the wet slickness of your pussy makes adding to both of your arousal.
Words in his mouth turn foreign. It sounds like a curse. He moves slower, determined to get as deep as possible with the new position. You’re completely trapped under him. Franco pushes against your body, warmth radiating off of him. You couldn't deny it. You were loving every second of it, drowning in the sensation, the passion, the raw, unbridled lust that consumed you both. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, urging him closer, deeper. Nothing else mattered.
He takes his time with you. Letting the both of you enjoy the debauchery and infidelity. Franco groans, nearing his orgasm as he grinds deeper and deeper into you. The thrusts gain pace, getting greedy. Your own hand reaches down, matching the pace to your clit as you moan. It’s almost electrifying. He lets the pace return as his body taints yours, continuing to fuck you despite the positions the both of you are in. After a few more thrusts, he cums inside the condom and lets you finish your orgasm with a drawn-out moan.
Over and over again, you tell yourself that this will finally end. Franco pulls out, cleaning himself up before he turns to you. The kiss he places on your head is almost familiar. Almost. The little spark and the tightness of your heart remind you of older times. It’s heartbreaking. He tells you, “Come on, amor. Clean-up time. You always make me do the work.” He’s teasing. You can’t help but yearn for something more from his words.This isn’t the time to end it, you think. Franco is allowed to do anything with your body; fuck it, kiss it, clean it, worship it. You think that divorce papers are too much of a hassle, despite your husband having never thought of a prenup in the first place. When you get his money, you think of attending a Formula 1 race on your own accord. This time, you can answer Franco’s question—who are you here to support?
@delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @Tribbisweetdear @Jamie2305
FOOTNOTE ────── idk why but franco is def an older woman type of person. am I wrong?? am I hallucinatin?? anyways. HE'S BAAAAACK. I smell a mid season switch if I'm being honest <3 but ily jack doohan no matter what happens. it's just that.... dude, it's franco. I am hoping doohan does well tho.
#🔖 . FC43#: 🔗 above 1k#: 🔗 fic#franco colapinto#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fic#f2 imagine#f2 x you#f2 x reader#f2 fic#f2 fanfic#formula 2 imagine#formula 2 scenarios#formula two imagine#formula 2 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 scenarios#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagines
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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin
-> Epilogue: Part One [Boulevard of Broken Dreams]
Summary: You received a call you and Bradley Bradshaw have been waiting on for what felt like a decade. Jakes mother causes a scene as worry consumes you. And does Jake want the very thing that put him in the hospital in the first place?
Warnings: Jake Seresin Whump. Mentions of Religion. F!reader x Jake Seresin. Angst, Mother-in-law issues. F-18 crash. Bad Medical representation.
Word Count: 6.2k
Author Note: EEEPPPPP we're almost there. this is the chapter EVERYONE has been waiting for. Just what the hell is going on! Please don't forget to let me know what you think.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
December 23rd
Your genetic makeup, the genes that you inherit from your parents, determines who you are biologically. They’re your blueprint so to speak. Everything from your eye colour to your height to your laugh. Even some diseases like asthma, diabetes, and various cancers.
But who you are at the core of it all goes far beyond your genetic makeup. Who you really are is the result of many, many things: How you deal with fear. Who you surround yourself with. And how you show up when it matters most.
The sea breeze was a gentle reminder of how quickly life could change in the blink of an eye. As you walked along the sand with small, barely there waves lapping at your ankles, the sight of families running after beach umbrellas and holding down sandy towels after the sudden gust of wind came through and caused a disturbance, really made you smile. Smiles were a treasure that was few and far between. It had been for months.
The somewhat sunny day was shrouded in the unknown. Chronic winds continued to wreak havoc on unsuspecting families just trying to enjoy their weekend. A storm was brewing off the coast. But for you, something much more life-altering was wreaking havoc. Something all-encompassing and certifiably depressing was eating away at your soul.
Your boyfriend and the love of your life had been severely injured in a work accident just over two months ago. His mother is certifiably insane and clearly doesn’t like you even existing on the same planet as her son… and his best friend hasn’t left you alone in what felt like a century.
But who were you to compare tragedies on this fine, sunny day?
“There you are!” The second you heard that agitating, grading voice, you rolled your eyes so hard you could have fallen into the shallows. The flightless bird you knew as Bradley Bradshaw was racing after you, making his presence known along the shore as he ran to catch up. “God, you had me worried for a second there. I was talking to Sue for like five seconds and you were just gone.”
“Some bodyguard you are,” you huffed as Bradley finally caught up to you. It wasn’t that you didn't like Rooster, it was more about the fact he felt obligated to keep an eye on you given the circumstances. “How is Sue anyway?”
“Uh–” Bradley looked back over his shoulder hesitantly to see the woman he’d been dating for the last few weeks walking away. “I don’t think we'll be seeing Sue much anymore.” It was all the explanation you needed. And if you were to be completely honest you didn’t blame the women. Who wants to fight for attention with a man whose sole responsibility these days was to keep his best friend's unborn children safe?
“You should be paying more attention to the women you’re trying to sleep with you know,” you replied as you kept walking down the pristine beach. The place that had become a home away from home. “I’ve told you, I don’t need a babysitter. We’re good, I promise.”
It had been an unspoken understanding since meeting Jake’s wingman that Rooster would look after you if anything were ever to happen to Jake. It went both ways for the two aviators from hell. Although at times the pair couldn’t be in the same room as one another without starting World War Three, it was a given that they would always be there for the other’s loved ones. It was brotherhood in its finest and rawest form.
But it was driving you mad.
“Jake wouldn’t–” Bradley tried to explain, but you’d heard this explanation too many times by this point. So much so you could finish Rooster’s sentence for him.
“‘Jake wouldn’t forgive you if something were to happen to me’, I know I know,” you huffed again. Your right hand came down to rest across your growing bump. Two little souls were currently using your internal system as their personal development grove. Two little Seresin babies that were as unexpected as they were blessed— or at least, to you. “But you– for as much as I appreciate everything you have and will continue to do for us Rooster– are driving me insane.”
“Too bad,” couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled you into his side. His arm slung over your shoulders before you could even protest his actions. “You’re Jake’s girl and Jake’s not here so therefore I gotta do what I gotta do and that my dear Y/n–” Bradley paused for a second before he continued just like the small waves that lapped at your ankles. Fear threatened to overcome Rooster’s nervous system. Yet, fending off fight or flight mode, he continued. Playing the role you needed him to be: Caregiver brick wall extraordinaire. “---Is to be right here, by your side, until that idiot wakes up.”
They say time heals most wounds. And for the majority of people that saying is pretty spot on. But for Jake Seresin, that hadn’t been the case. Jake had been in an induced coma for weeks after his near-death accident. The experienced aviator was no match for the panic attack that took him hostage mid-training exercise. His body currently lay battered, burnt and bruised in the Miramar Base Hospital in the intensive care unit. His soul remained trapped inside the mind you sometimes hated to love and loved to hate.
And when Doctors tried to wake him from the state they’d put him into in order to heal…he didn’t wake up.
That was back in November…It was now approaching Christmas Day and still, there was no sign of Jake waking from his coma. He’d battled and fought what seemed like everything the world could throw at him: Broken bones. Third-degree burns. A swollen brain. Organ damage. Pneumonia. You name it and Jake had battled it.
He was a fighter. Someone who was going to fight until he had nothing left. Doctors assured you there was brain activity. A good indication of a recovery.
But when he would wake was entirely up to him…
“Some idiot huh?” you teased playfully at your boyfriend’s expense. But the reality of the situation was that with every passing day, with every complication or turn of events, you missed Jake more and more. “He’s coming out the other side of the phenomena though, which is a good sign.”
Bradley walked by your side as the two of you debriefed about what the day would bring. First, you needed to shower and change into something that wasn’t kissed by the salty air of the beach you liked to walk along every morning. It helped you clear your head from all the noise. Since Jake’s accident, your head hadn’t been quiet. Voices echoed all day long inside your mind about what you could be doing better, more of. What you could have done differently.
Sometimes those voices would grow louder and stronger the longer you tried to avoid them. However, averting your gaze and pretending the voices didn’t exist was a harder task than first thought…especially when the voices that escaped your mind were coming from Jake’s mother.
That self-proclaimed holier than thou mother fu—
Next, you needed to eat something. You hadn’t had much of an appetite your entire pregnancy. Bradley liked to think it was because of the additional stress Jake’s hospitalisation had caused. You knew he’d say something if you didn’t at least try to consume something of substance.
And finally, to you, the most important part of the list of to-do’s, was to get over to Miramar Base Hospital and see the man who’d captivated your entire heart. The goal every day besides growing two human lives was to be by Jake's side.
Even if at the end of the day the result of all this turmoil and trauma was a breakup you knew his mother was already actively praying for, you’d still be able to say you weren’t the one who walked away.
“Come on,” Bradley gently placed his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get outta here. I’m sure Jake’s waiting for us.”
“His mother will be there,” you said without hesitation. There was a frustrated sadness in your voice. A longing for privacy. A declaration for peace. You knew Bradley was aware of the hostile relationship between the two of you, he'd been present for a few altercations. But you also knew he was right and Jake would want you there if you could be. And it was a could-be day. For both you and Rooster. “I was thinking maybe we could go a little later in the day, give her some time alone–”
“Y/n?”
Yeah?” You knew what was coming, it felt like the two of you had had this same exact conversation every day for the past four weeks.
“You’re the mother of Jake’s soon-to-be twins. He’d want you there more than Janise.”
“It’s Janeen, Roo,” you grinned to yourself as you looked down at your growing bump with a loving hand resting over your belly button. “And Hell would probably freeze over before she realises that.”
“I thought you weren’t a religious person?” Rooster frowned momentarily as he searched his brain for any conversational remarks he may have missed in passing that would have led him to forget your religious values. He wasn’t a God-loving man himself, but there had to be something out there, right?
“I’m not.” You had never followed a religion or its practices, but the longer the love of your life remained in a coma after sustaining life-threatening injuries, the more you were open to whatever religious being extended a helping hand first. Including but not limited to Satan. You’d sell your soul in a heartbreak to bring Jake back. “But a girl can dream, can’t she?”
Your non-religious self-awareness was the deciding factor when it came to Janeen not accepting you. Ever since Jake had brought you home to his parents one winter break back in your college days, you knew it was a battle not worth fighting.
You were the girl who got away. The rogue agent. The true crime writer with an appetite for knowledge and literature. Jake was the aspiring college football star turned Naval Aviator.
Jake broke it off in the spring before he went to basic. You wanted roots and stability he at the time couldn’t offer. He was off to see the world and the world would be his oyster. You couldn’t stand in the way of that no matter how much you believed Jake Seresin was the one for you.
You knew Janeen was over the moon with joy and delight that her precious boy had come home to his faith and exiled the woman who was leading him down a road of treacherous sin.
Get the fuck outta here.
It wasn’t until about a year or so ago that you and Jake reconnected after he’d come back from a mission that had him staring death right in the face and questioning what he had to look back on.
All he saw was you in that library at college smiling across at him while explaining that Christmas was fake. Something his mother would have burnt him at the stake for believing.
So, Jake called. And like a love-sick loser, you came running from across the country. Rhode Island was your home, but wherever Jake Seresin was in the world was where your heart would be.
“I bet she cries herself to sleep at night more over the fact you and Hangman are having children out of wedlock than she cries over the fact he nearly died,” Bradley growled.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” you replied as a gust of wind picked up a beach umbrella in the distance. “I’m something straight out of the book of the damned, Bradshaw. The idea of us having a child together, let alone twins, took twenty years off her life.”
“Jake would have loved to see her face when you told her,” Bradley chuckled. Then he cleared his throat and did his best to steer the conversation back on track. “We still have to go to the hospital.”
Reluctantly, you agreed. “Fine, but you’re taking me to get a muffin from Bells Bakery first,” you said all the while Rooster rolled his eyes. You knew he couldn’t say no. How do you say no to a pregnant lady who just wants a sweet little treat before spending hours in the same room as your comatose boyfriend and his overbearingly religious mother? You don’t. You don’t say no, you simply nod in agreement.
*************************
Every disease has its unique course it takes in the body when left untreated. The process begins with exposure to a root cause that sends a ripple effect throughout the body. The disease then progresses, ultimately resolving in one of three possible outcomes…
You get better, you stay chronically ill, or you die.
The weather had taken a drastic turn since you and Rooster left the beach earlier that morning. The slightly overcast and windy day brought in a nice north-easterly storm. Rain was the only thing that filled the silence as you sat waiting patiently. You caught yourself thinking of what you’d give to hear Jake’s voice before the new year.
The carefully cultivated interior design of Bradley’s Bronco was something straight out of every single bachelor’s wet dream. This car was what you expected the inside of his soul to look like. And if you were to ever become anything like Jake’s Mother, you’d think this car would be Bradley’s version of a perfect heaven.
Then, like a premonition, your phone rang, splitting the quiet like lightning through a dark sky.
"Hi, Y/n,” Doctor Hughes sounded rather cheerful as you sat in the passenger seat of Bradley’s Bronco.
“It appears that our dear friend is waking up," his voice was urgent but steady. For a moment, your mind stumbles, caught between disbelief and hope. Then you’re moving — grabbing keys, kicking on your sandals, heart pounding louder than an engine roaring to life.
“Rooster?” you whispered as you clambered out of the parked Bronco. The curb hated to see a Bradshaw coming. “I’ll be there as soon as I can!” You awkwardly spoke into your phone before hanging up without hesitation. There was no time to waste on small talk. Jake was waking up.
The world outside blurred into streaks of light and shadow as you walked as fast as you could, each passing second stretched thin by desperation. Memories flashed — hospital visits, whispered promises, tear-soaked prayers, or whatever bullshit Jake’s mother insisted on mumbling.
“Rooster!?” you yelled as panic, fear, and anxiety overcame your nervous system. “Bradshaw?” you yelled once more as you entered the small locally owned bakery..
“Hey, what’s wrong? I just ordered a coffee to go and your apple cinnamon muffin.,” Rooster could tell by the look on your face and how sickly you looked that something had happened. “Is the Bronco okay?”
The fact that was the first thing his mind jumped to angered you to no end. “Yes, the fucking Bronco is fine, you idiot,” you sighed as your belly felt heavy with two Seresin children, a nervous shit, and impending vomit. “Jake’s waking up.”
“No way, who called?” Bradley kicked into fifth gear before your eyes as he ushered you out of the cafe without his coffee or your muffin.
“Rooster, our order?” you protested as he barrelled out of the cafe with your shoulders in his hands. “Hold up!”
“We gotta go, you wanna be there when he wakes up, don’t you?” Rooster asked, thinking the answer you’d give him would be a straight-up “yes”. There shouldn’t have been any other answer. But the longer you stood still not answering, Bradley knew something was eating away at you. “Y/n, why are you being weird about this? He’s okay, everything’s gonna be alright.”
“What if he doesn’t want this?” your eyes welled with tears in the middle of the walkway. “What if he doesn’t want me? What if…what if he doesn’t want the ki–our kids?”
Surgical intervention doesn’t always work when it comes to disease. Sometimes, despite best efforts, the disease wins. It takes over our cells one-by-one…until the damage can no longer be reversed. When that happens, all you can do is take the loss and move on. But when you can change the course of someone’s disease, you can change the course of their life. It’s enough to make you want to come back for more.
“Oh, Y/n, no,” Bradley cooed as he drew you in for a much-needed hug. “Jake’s a lot of things, and he’s done a lot of stupid things, but giving you up all those years ago was his biggest mistake,” Rooster reminded you as the tears you cried stained his T-shirt. Your face was buried in his chest. A chest that had soaked up far too many of your tears these last few weeks. “I know there’s a lot of unknowns, but if there’s one thing I know for sure it’s that Jake’s never gonna let you guys go. I promise you.”
“He didn’t want the baby before he–” You couldn’t finish your sentence without breaking out into an all-out wail. Bradley held you tighter than he ever had before. He didn’t know what you hadn’t told him. And what you hadn’t told him was the whole truth…
The whole truth was that Jake’s accident had been your fault. Or so it felt like it.
“Hey, hey, you’re good,” Rooster tried his best to soothe your soul all the while the lady who’d taken his order before kindly brought it out. He was sure to thank her silently over your shoulder as she placed the muffin in its brown paper bag and his takeaway coffee on the bench. “Whatever happened before all this, I’m sure it’s gonna work out. Jake loves you so much,” Rooster beamed as he rubbed your back. “He’s not letting you or these kiddos go.”
**********************
As the Bronco sped down the rain-slick streets, tires hissing against the wet pavement, Bradley’s hands gripped the steering wheel as tight as possible. His knuckles were white with tension. You sat anxiously in the passenger seat, phone clenched tightly in your hands, replaying the call from Dr. Hughes in your mind over and over again like a broken Rolexes that held only one memory.
"It appears that our dear friend is waking up,” Jensen Hughes, Jake’s primary doctor who had been with him since the first day he was brought into the hospital, had said. The words echoed in your head, filling your mind, body, and soul with equal parts hope and fear.
"We’re almost there," Bradley muttered, more to himself than to you. His jaw was set, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. His best friend was waking up from a coma he never really thought he’d come out of. He’d been looking after you and his unborn children since the accident. Jake had missed so much and nothing all at the same time.
"He’s strong. He’s been fighting this whole time." You reached over, resting a hand on his arm. Bradley nodded in return but didn’t speak. The memories of countless nights spent at Jake’s bedside haunted you both. Each mile seemed endless, stretched by the weight of anticipation.
The hospital's glowing sign finally appeared through the rain-streaked windshield. Bradley exhaled sharply, parking the car with a jerky halt. Without another word, you both dashed toward the entrance, hearts pounding, ready to see Jake — ready to hope again.
**********************
The elevator doors opened with a subdued ding as you and Rooster stepped into the hushed hospital hallway. The dim overhead lights cast a pale glow, reflecting off the sterile white walls. Neither of you spoke as you walked toward Jake’s room. Both too anxious to say anything that could jeopardise this significant moment in Jake’s recovery.
As you approached the familiar door, you hesitated. Your breath hitched in your throat. Bradley gently squeezed your hand, grounding you in the moment. You felt like you were going to be sick. Your twins pressed on every vital organ they had shoved to whatever side they could to make room for themselves. Here you were, Jake Seresin’s pregnant girlfriend, about to see him awake for the first time in what felt like a decade. Rounding the final corner, you saw the familiar door, slightly ajar, light spilling into the hallway. For a moment, neither of you moved, overwhelmed by hope and fear intertwined.
"We’re here," Bradley whispered, his voice steady though his eyes betrayed the weight of his worry.
As you pushed the door open, you were met with the soft beeping of the heart monitor and the steady whoosh of the ventilator. Jake lay still, his face pale but peaceful, lost in the depths of his coma. His mind was a world away, carried off into the subconscious. His body was the only remaining evidence to suggest he was still with you.
Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill as you stepped closer. Why were you expecting him to be awake and alert? Wishing thinking once again overcomplicated your usually realistic outlook on how things worked in this world. Perhaps it had been the way Doctor Hughes spoke to you on the phone. Or maybe it was the pregnancy hormones that allowed for more hopeful endings. Either way, neither explanation added up to the expectation you had set.
"Hey, Jake... it’s us," you whispered, voice trembling. Bradley pulled a chair close and ushered you to sit beside the bed.
"We’re not going anywhere," he said firmly. "You hear me? We’re right here." Resting a hand on Jake’s forearm, Rooster was quick to let his wingman know he was there. The room remained silent except for the rhythmic beeping, but neither of you moved, holding onto hope with every passing second.
“We heard what you’ve been up to while we’ve been gone, baby,” you cooed softly as you stroked Jake’s cheek gently, taking in the sight of his peacefully unaware self. “And we don’t plan on going anywhere until we get to see those beautiful eyes of yours.”
“What’s going on here?” The familiar voice made your heart sink into your stomach as you tried to get as comfortable as you could in the world’s most uncomfortable hospital chair. Janeen stood in the doorway with a fresh coffee from the cafe downstairs in her aging hand. Her nails, manicured to perfection, clutched around the paper cup so much so that you swore the scolding hot liquid would burst through the weakened structure. “Did something happen? Why the urgency to not go anywhere?”
“Did–” you paused for a second as you allowed yourself to sink a little further into your chair with a protective hand strewn across your ever-growing baby bump. “Did anyone call you?”
“Why would anyone call me when I’m already here, silly girl.” Janeen scoffed as she walked further into Jake’s room. A room that had been his for weeks. A room that your mother had helped you decorate with Christmas lights and decorations as the season approached with every passing day. A bleak, barren hospital room was no place for a soul full of such joy and fun and high-octane energy. Jake deserved more than white walls and sterile floors.
“Right, my bad for asking,” you sighed as Rooster rolled his eyes discreetly and tried to hide his disdain for his best friend’s mother. A mother he knew Jake wasn’t so fond of either. Especially when it came to you.
“Jane!” Rooster beamed as he broke the tension. “Long time no see. How long has it been?” Bradley smiled as he shot you a cheeky look of mischief. This was who Rooster was at his very core. A shit-stirring moustache-having gold star kid. The best there was. He’d been a rock for you during this whole ordeal. There had never been a moment these past few months where you hadn’t been able to cry on Rooster’s shoulder or vent to him in full confidence that everything you said would stay with him and only him.
“I saw you yesterday, son,” Janeen replied sternly, not a single hint of amusement in her tone. Yet, Rooster continued with his antics. He knew well enough by now to know if he kept going, Janeen would cut you some slack. Rooster had been an on-and-off fixture in the Seresin household for years. Ever since Jake and Bradley met in the academy. And boy did Janeen Seresin have a soft spot for the man who grew up without parents or any sort of guiding light. She saw real potential in the Bradshaw kid. If he just applied himself to God, he could be one of his finest soldiers.
“Really? I’d never forget seeing you! Are you sure it was yesterday? I heard dementia is kinda contagious in these sorts of environments,” Bradley grinned as he pulled the shorter, aging woman with that signature older mother smell into him for a hug. He was sure to send you a wink over her head.
You had to stuff the boisterous laugh that threatened to spill from your mouth right back down into the depths of your stomach before World War Three could erupt right here in Jake’s hospital room. To be perfectly honest though, you wouldn’t be opposed to that diagnosis. Perhaps then you’d have somewhat of a chance at developing some sort of relationship with the grandmother of your children. Even if each and every day brought a new personality and memory bank. Oh, a girl could dream.
“Y/n, be a dear and get me a chair will you?” If you weren’t already sitting down, you would have fallen over with shock.
“Oh, I can do that,” Bradley quickly jumped into action, not wanting you to get up. “I’ll go get you one, I’ll be right back.” He grinned at Janeen before sending you a worrying look of concern. A look that didn’t necessarily look the best on him. “Don’t–just don’t kill each other while I’m gone, alright?”
“Scouts honour,” you held your hand up as if you were swearing on the bible. Something you’d never actually do. But as Janeen looked over at where you were sitting, she nodded in agreement.
“Right, I’ll be right back,” Bradley groaned hesitantly as he left the room. Leaving an unconscious and comatose Jake to fend for himself. “Sorry pal, she’s your mother,” he mumbled to himself as he shook his head and continued out of sight. The second Rooster was gone…it was on for young and old.
“I’ve organised a paternity test for when you have the babies–” Janeen informed you like it wasn’t the worst insult you’d ever heard.
“Excuse me?” you replied rather harshly as you sat up in your chair. In what world would these not be Jake���s children? How was this happening right now? How was she doing this when Jake was slowly waking up from his endless sleep?
“You heard me,” Jeneen smirked. “I need to protect my son,” For a woman who preached about being God’s seeing eye, she really was doing the devil’s work.
“Your son should have listened in sex-ed a little more.” You knew even the mention of sex would have Janeen’s skin crawling. Sex out of wedlock! How dare you, how would you ever be cleansed of your sins? “Are you being serious right now Janeen?”
“I almost lost him once!” Jake’s mother raised her voice as she stepped closer to his bedside, taking in the sight of her grown, adult child. “I’m not losing him again and certainly not to some wannabe writer who wants to live off my son’s achievements.”
“Almost doesn’t matter because almost never happened,” you made sure to say before you went on to unleash a declaration of war against your not-so-mother-in-law. “But I can guarantee if you try and destroy this family before it has a chance to grow, so help whatever God you believe in bitch…I’ll burn your entire life to the ground and smile when I watch the millions of dollars you put into that ranch burn too.”
“You vindictive girl.” Janeen had nothing else to say from the other side of Jake’s hospital bed.
“Don’t threaten my family and I won’t threaten yours.” It was the only warning you were ever going to give.
“He’s my son!” Janeen shouted as Bradley made his wake back down the hall with a chair in hand.
“And he’s my hu–”
You couldn’t finish your sentence. With so many hormones and emotions coursing through your veins, you slipped. Jake wasn’t your husband. He wasn’t your fiance. He was your boyfriend. And for as much as you wanted to marry the man lying in that hospital bed after nearly losing his life, you knew that question was far from being asked. If it were ever to be asked. Jake Seresin had grown up watching his parents hate each other…he’d made it clear marriage was something he wasn’t interested in. Why would he be when he spent his childhood listening to his mother beg his father to fix some stupid faucet that never did get fixed?
Why would Jake ever be interested in marriage when he could remember the intervention his grandfather gave his dad at their wedding, something about it wasn’t too late to back out. Hell, why would Jake be interested in marriage when he watched his father fall out of love so hard with his mother that she never really clued him in on her battle with breast cancer? Jake grew up under the guidance of God and his almighty word…
But the way his father had treated his mother throughout Jake’s life had truly left a sour taste in his mouth. And if Jake, through biological design, was anything like his dad…he was never going to put himself in a position where he could emulate any sort of resemblance to his father.
Trauma am I right? (He’d told you so much about his childhood.)
“Honey, you’re nothing more than an incubator,” Janeen hissed with a wicked smirk plastered across her face. “He’s my son, and my son knows better than to allow himself to stoop as low as ending up with someone like you.”
“I thought I told you two not to kill each other?” Rooster tried to intervene as he placed the chair down beside where Janeen stood. He’s never seen you look so worked up. So angry. So hurt.
“Janeen.” You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes. “When I have these children, Jake’s children, if I have it my way you will never see them. You will never get to know them do you hear me? No God or religion or wackadoodle fucking beliefs you have will ever help you have a relationship with my children because if you can’t look me in the fucking eye and see what your son sees in me then I’m not entertaining any sort of relationship with you.”
“If they’re really my grandbabies then you can’t keep them from seeing their family–”
“She’s their mother, Jane, I don’t think you have much say in the matter,” Rooster sided with you as politely as he could. He wasn’t going to be the one to point out that Jake's fingers were twitching either.
“Better start praying really hard Janeen,” you chuckled, knowing that although you didn’t win this battle, you’d win the war. “Maybe Rooster will bring back a pillow for your knees,” you teased, a little out of line but it was so worth the look of horror on her face. “You’ll be on them for a hell of a long time.”
**********************
The roar of twin afterburners pierced the sky as Jake pushed his F-18 Super Hornet through a steep climb. The clear blue expanse stretched endlessly above, the ground a distant memory. This was his element—a place where skill and instinct defined survival. Still, the only thing on his mind when he should have been focusing on controlling a multimillion-dollar piece of military equipment was you. You were pregnant. Jake was going to be a father.
He should have listened to you when you said the two of you could talk about it after he got home from work. He never should have pressed you for more information. But Jake had and the second the words came out of your mouth, he heard nothing else after the words “I’m pregnant Jake–we’re gonna have a baby.”
He wasn’t ready to be a dad. A father. Being a dad was the last thing Jake thought he should ever be. He wasn’t raised to procreate. He shouldn’t be responsible for another human being. If Jake was even an ounce like his own father, that kid, that poor fetus growing inside you as he raced through the sky, was about to have one hell of a childhood. It wasn’t even just having a baby that terrified him. How was Jake meant to teach this kid right from wrong when he was still learning that himself?
“What if I told you that I wasn’t sure if I wanted kids, but I want you?” Jake knew the second that the question left his lips…that it hadn’t come out the way it should have. But the reality was he had said it, and the look in your hopeful eyes quickly shattered and was replaced with a reluctance to continue with the conversation.
Self-doubt radiated off Jake like his life force was fading. Today's training was a high-intensity combat simulation over the rugged terrain of Redstone Valley. Jake and Rooster were executing advanced dogfighting maneuvers against an elite training squadron. Every turn, every roll, every burst of speed was a calculated dance of power and precision.
"Bandit on your six!" Bradshaw’s urgent voice crackled through Jake's headset.
His wingman had questioned him earlier in the day about what had him so uptight. Jake hadn’t been himself today, he knew that much for sure. But that was because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the very fact you were pregnant with his child. A child created out of love and endless passion. But that wasn’t enough to make Jake want to be a father after being so sure for so many of his adult years that he wasn’t supposed to be a father. “Hangman! Get your arse into gear man!”
Jake yanked the stick hard left, pulling into a sharp barrel roll. The G-forces slammed him into his seat as he broke away, narrowly avoiding the pursuing jet's simulated missile lock. His pulse raced, his adrenaline surged as his heart beat against his cheat so hard he swore he was having a heart attack…
Suddenly, the cockpit warning system blared—a mechanical shriek of impending doom. "ENGINE FAILURE—LEFT ENGINE!" flashed across the Heads-Up Display.
"Mayday, mayday, this is Viper One, experiencing critical engine failure. Attempting emergency procedures," Jake radioed, his voice steady despite the rising tension. The heart attack he swore he was having was a full-blown panic attack. Jake couldn’t catch his breath long enough to maintain focus. “Fuck, Rooster! I’m going down! Mayday–mayday!” Children’s laughter filled the cockpit as Jake spiralled out of control.
“JAKE! EJECT EJECT EJECT!” Bradley shouted frantically through the coms. He watched on in pure horror as one of the best aviators he knew plummeted to earth without much control. “HANGMAN EJECT!”
“Tell Y/n I love her–” was the last communication that Bradley received before Jake frantically gave up his battle with the controls to pull his chute.
Much like Rooster’s late father, Jake’s emergency exit hadn’t gone according to plan. The roar of the F-18's engines screamed in Jake's ears as the warning lights flashed across the cockpit. Smoke billowed from the right engine, as his aircraft trembled violently.
As Jake pulled his emergency chute, he was propelled into the sky as his F-18 was engulfed in flames so hot the heat melted his uniform into his skin. If he’d waited even one second more he would have been a goner. The emergency exit did little to stop the dramatic fall from grace Jake was experiencing. He plummeted unconscious from the sky towards the burning pile of rubble that was, just a few seconds ago, his Super Hornet.
The ground felt like solid concrete as Jake slammed into the side of the valley, bones shattered on impact as Rooster watched on in utter agony. His helmet did little to cushion the impact, although that was its intended purpose. Emergency services had already been sent out to Jake’s last known location… but there was little that could be done for Jake as he lay in a twisted pile of his emergency parachute. Blood stained his flight suit as his body began to shut down.
He was dying, but the laughter of children filled the silence like sunlight filtering through leaves—light, spontaneous, and full of love.
**********************
Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream
@maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional l
@jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog
@a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination
@the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989 @avengersgirllorianna
#was it over? // jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#tw: cancer#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman imagine#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin whump#jake seresin#maverick top gun
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Back To You - Part 10 | Sam Carpenter
Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader
Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing
Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.
Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .
Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist
_______________________________________________
9 months later. . .
“Look who finally made it,” Liam teases when he opens his door.
I scoff playfully and hug him after being ushered into the apartment. “I’m sorry. I know I said I’d be here earlier, but traffic was a bitch.”
“It’s okay. I know.” He waves me off and runs a hand down his dress shirt, smoothing it out. “But I have to get going, or I’m going to be late.”
I nod and accept the spare key he hands me while slipping into his dress shoes. “Have fun!” I tease when he shrugs on his jacket.
“It’s a business dinner, not a date, Y/N.” He deadpans which makes me laugh and slap his shoulder before he leaves with a final wave and smile.
It’s the end of September and I’m visiting New York for a couple of days since I have some time off before the hockey season begins again.
I’m here to visit Liam— obviously, since I’m staying with him— but also Tara and Sam, who agreed it would be better if I stayed with Liam since they’re apartment is fairly small and their roommate, Quinn, doesn’t know me.
Since Christmas, we’ve only seen each other once, three months ago, at one of my hockey games which Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad came to see after they all collectively moved to New York.
I was happy to see them again, and glad we were once again living in the same time zone, but there was an underlying tension the whole time we hung out because things between Sam and I haven’t been the same ever since Christmas.
While Tara and I are in contact almost daily, Sam and I barely even talk once a week. It’s not for her lack of trying though, it’s because I’ve distanced myself ever since I realized it was hopeless to think the two of us could ever be a thing.
I gave up on her, doing exactly what Tara told me not to do, and I even tried to move on, but that didn’t work out as planned.
I went on a couple of dates here and there, and hooked up with several people, but I just can’t get over Sam even though nowadays we’re barely even friends.
The only reason we could still be considered friends is because of our backstory and because Tara connects us. Other than that, we’re back to the way things were when Sam first returned to Woodsboro, and being like this hurts even more than when she was simply gone.
Those five years were undoubtedly the most painful years of my life, but now everything is so much worse. I thought I’d gotten Sam back, I thought we could finally be something, but all of that hope shattered as soon as she said she’d never do long distance. She also never acknowledged how Richie exposed my feelings for her, which makes it abundantly clear that she’d rather just forget about it and move on as friends.
I know she doesn’t owe me anything and she’s been trying to stay in contact as best as she can, but I’m just too hurt to let her back in and accept her as just a friend.
I know how stupid that sounds and it’s not my intention to hurt her by keeping my distance, but it’s just how I cope with everything.
With a sigh I enter Liam’s apartment properly and let out an impressed whistle when I realize just how big and luxurious it actually is. When he sent me his address and I saw that it was on the upper west side, I was surprised because living here is usually reserved for the rich and famous, but he explained that his company owns the building and rents its apartments to their employees for a reasonable price.
That doesn’t make it any less luxurious though, and when I take a look in the bathroom and see a rain shower with a view of the twinkling city outside I make a mental note to use it as soon as possible.
Right now, I’m hungry though, so I raid Liam’s fridge, helping myself to a smoothie and some leftover chocolate cake that he has for some reason.
The dinner he’s at right now wasn’t planned, it was a last minute thing his boss organized, but I’m not complaining. Yes, we were supposed to do something together tonight, but I’ll just check and see if Sam and Tara are free instead.
We’re supposed to meet up tomorrow for lunch, but I don’t see why I can’t stop by their place tonight, too.
I pull out my phone and call Tara after gulping down some of my smoothie. She doesn’t answer, so I reluctantly call Sam next.
Tara’s probably in the shower or something. . . God knows she loves to take long ass showers. When she lived with me my water bill almost doubled.
Sam picks up after two rings which is not surprising since I can’t remember the last time I called her instead of the other way around.
“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Her concerned voice makes my stomach twist and I hate how she thinks something’s wrong because I’m calling her instead of Tara.
“Hey. Yeah, I’m okay. Just got into the city and was wondering if I could stop by your place for some dinner since Liam was called into work,” I say.
The sound of traffic on Sam’s end of the line makes me realize she’s not home and I think calling might have been a mistake, but she immediately agrees. “Of course. I’ll text you the address again. I’m not home yet because I just got out of therapy, but Tara and Quinn should be home.“
“Okay. Thanks.”
There’s an awkward silence, but Sam is quick to break it by saying, “Alright then. See you soon.”
“Yeah. See you.” I hang up and exhale slowly.
It’s just Sam, Y/N. Pull yourself together. You’re going to go see Tara and Sam, and their roommate, not just Sam.
The two of us haven’t been alone since Christmas eve and I’m not planning on changing that anytime soon.
I finish the piece of cake and throw away the empty smoothie bottle before grabbing a zip up hoodie from my bag and heading out of the apartment.
Sam and Tara’s apartment is quite far away, and because I’m not in the mood to call an Uber or take the subway, I take one of the public e scooters standing around, unlocking it with my phone before heading off.
It’s nice getting some fresh air after being cooped up in my car for hours and not even fifteen minutes later I’m in front of the building Sam sent me the address of.
I get off the scooter and park it around the corner, making my way inside the building after getting buzzed in by some random person.
Compared to Liam’s building, this place is a dump, but it seems relatively safe and affordable, so who am I to judge. This is New York after all.
I head up the stairs and knock on the door of Sam and Tara’s apartment, my heart rate picking up with each second that passes until the door finally opens.
Having expected Sam or Tara, I’m surprised when a stranger greets me. It’s a red haired girl, around Tara’s age, with a round face and gray eyes. She’s dressed in only a robe and I momentarily avert my eyes when she reties it around her waist.
“Hi, you must be Quinn,” I say, raising my hand in greeting.
Quinn’s eyes rake over me and she smirks before her eyes snap back up to mine. “Yeah, and you’re Y/N, right?”
I nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her hungry gaze. “The one and only,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
Quinn’s face softens ever so slightly and her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “So I heard. . . You’re here to see Sam and Tara?” she guesses and when I nod again, she opens the door properly and invites me inside.
“Sam should be here any minute, but Tara is out,” she says.
I frown. “She’s out? Sam said she’d be here.”
Quinn smiles apologetically and goes to say something but then a man’s voice from a nearby room calls for her. “Babe? You coming back or what?”
My eyes widen and I feel heat rushing into my cheeks. That’s why she’s only wearing a robe. “Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. . . interrupt you and your boyfriend.”
“My boyfriend?” Quinn laughs as if the idea is ridiculous and waves me off. “Oh don’t worry. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just hooking up.” She eyes me once again with that lustful look in her eyes and bites her lip seductively, squeezing my biceps. “You could join us if you want. The more the merrier, am I right?”
I squirm and pull my arm out of her grasp with an uncomfortable smile. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”
God, what’s up with her?
I want to ask about Tara’s whereabouts again when the door behind us opens.
My eyes instantly lock with Sam’s and even though I’m nervous to see her again, I’m also relieved she’s here to distract Quinn from making a move on me again.
“Y/N. . .” She hugs me after a moment’s hesitation before shrugging off her jacket and hanging it up on the hook next to the door. “I see you’ve already met Quinn.”
I rub the back of my neck awkwardly and avoid looking at the aforementioned roommate. “Mhmm.”
Quinn, having absolutely no shame whatsoever, touches my arm again. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was such a snack, Sam?”
Oh lord. . .
My face heats up again, but Sam is quick to come to my rescue. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow before stepping in between Quinn and me which forces the redhead to let go of me.
“Right. I forgot you don’t like to share.” Quinn laughs, unbothered and turns to head into the kitchen.
“Sorry about that. I know she can be a bit much sometimes.” Sam glances at me over her shoulder, and I wave her off nervously.
“It’s okay.“
She turns as soon as Quinn is out of sight and I hold my breath at how close she is.
She looks as beautiful as ever even though she looks tired and I curse my heart for flipping in my chest when she picks a piece of lint off my shoulder.
The white off-shoulder top she’s wearing over her tank top looks incredible on her and I have to force myself not to look at her exposed neck and collar bones too much, a task that is incredibly hard because she’s wearing the necklace I gave her for Christmas.
It glints in the low light and even though the knowledge that she still wears it makes my insides melt, it also serves as a reminder why I’ve been keeping my distance.
Don’t get hurt again, Y/N.
I swallow thickly and lean back a little, not missing the way confusion and hurt flashes across Sam’s face before she clears her throat and steps back.
She looks anywhere but at me before asking Quinn, “Have you seen Tara?”
Quinn, who was just about to open a bottle of wine in the kitchen turns with a sheepish smile. “Uh, don’t be mad. . .”
I frown and follow Sam into the kitchen.
“Why would I be mad?” Sam asks and the way Quinn winces slightly at her tone makes my lips twitch with amusement.
“Because you get mad,” she says and I can’t help but agree silently.
Sam does have a temper, however I’m not sure why she’d be mad when Quinn tells her where Tara is as long as she’s not alone.
“Babe?” The guy from what I’m assuming is Quinn’s bedroom calls for her again which makes Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the question of Tara’s whereabouts momentarily forgotten.
“Is that Paul?” she asks and Quinn cringes when the guy shouts, “Who the fuck is Paul?”
“Life, I have found,” she says quietly with an innocent shrug, “is all about variety.”
This time I can’t help but smile properly, and Sam chuckles softly, too.
“So, uh, where’s Tara?” she asks after a moment which makes Quinn sigh helplessly, the wine on the counter forgotten as she toys with the bottle opener in her hands.
“She went to the Omega Kappa Beta party.”
Huh. I didn’t think Tara’d be one to enjoy frat parties but I guess she’s young and wants to try everything now that she’s in a new city and in college.
Sam doesn’t seem to agree though and it’s clear why Quinn was scared of her getting mad when she exclaims, “What? I begged her not to go to that!”
I want to tell her that it’s just a party, but she seems to haver her reasons why she doesn’t want Tara there, so I stay quiet.
Quinn sighs again. “And we’ve now arrived at mad. . .”
I try my best not to smile— Quinn’s actually pretty funny now that she’s not trying to sleep with me— and focus on Sam instead.
She seems ready to explode, but gathers herself by taking a deep breath and closes her eyes momentarily. Then she deflates and when she asks, “Do you know if she at least took her taser?” she sounds more worried than mad.
A taser?
Quinn grabs the wine off the counter and pushes the cork screw into the cork before twisting it and opening the bottle. “I cannot speak to how heavily armed Tara is at this fraternity party,” she says hesitantly which makes Sam huff in frustration and brush past me back to the front door where she grabs a taser from a dresser.
I follow her, knowing she’s going to go back out to look for Tara, and Quinn follows me with the now open bottle of wine in hand, ready to return to her not-boyfriend.
Sam eyes the taser for a moment, her jaw working and I move around her to grab her jacket off the hook for her.
Right as I reach for it though, Quinn says something that makes me freeze. “Oohh. Is cute boy shirtless again?”
My head snaps around so fast, it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap, and my eyes instantly land on what, or rather who, Quinn and Sam are looking at through the window. There’s a shirtless guy, seemingly my age or a couple years older in the apartment right across from us.
I have to admit, he is cute with his neatly trimmed beard and muscular upper body, and I even smile when Quinn’s not-boyfriend asks, “Who’s cute boy, babe?” and Quinn cringes, replying, “Always you. . . sweetie.” But that smile is quickly wiped off my face when I see the way Sam is looking at him.
Her eyes are soft and there’s something like longing written all over her face which feels like a sucker punch to the stomach.
This is why I keep my distance. . . She’s not mine and if she likes this cute boy, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s not that I’m jealous, I’m just hurt and I’m once again reminded to keep my heart guarded.
But then Sam’s eyes snap to me and her face instantly falls and something like guilt flickers across her eyes, but I don’t dwell on it and avert my own eyes, staring at my shoes and fidgeting with Liam’s key in the pocket of my hoodie.
“You guys have been checking each other out for months, why don’t you just talk to him?” Quinn asks softly, and once again, it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach.
Sam turns away from the window and I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look up. “Because. . .” Her voice falters ever so slightly before going on. “That right there is all the romantic interaction I’m ready for.”
Once again a reminder that she’s not over Richie, and definitely not into me. . .
Out of the corner of my eye I see Quinn shrug and when Sam says, “I’m going to find Tara, you coming with me, Y/N?” I nod wordlessly without meeting her eye, and follow her out of the apartment after returning Quinn’s awkward wave.
I’m doing exactly what I planned on avoiding, which is being alone with Sam, but my worry for her going out alone outweighs my need to keep my distance, so I silently follow her down the stairs and outside where she pulls out her phone to look up the directions to the frat house.
I forgot you don’t like to share. . .
Quinn’s words suddenly echo through my mind and I frown because Sam and I obviously aren’t a thing, but before I can dwell on it too long, Sam nudges me and starts walking. “Come on, let’s go. The frat house isn’t too far from here, so we can walk.”
I wordlessly fall into step beside her, intent on not talking about what just happened, but she seems to have other plans because after we cross the street she turns to me with furrowed eyebrows and says, “You know, Danny and I aren’t a thing or anything. . .”
“What?” I know she probably means cute boy, but I wasn’t expecting her to say that. I thought they only knew each other because they live across from each other, but it seems as though they know each other better than that. Also, the fact that Sam is trying to deny that something is going on between them makes me believe there actually is something going.
Which is fine. . . Totally fine. She’s an adult and she can make her own choices.
“Y-you know,” she stutters. “The guy, Cute Boy, he and I, we’re not a thing. Not really— I mean we’re just—“
I stop dead in my tracks and raise a hand which makes her shut up and stop walking as well. “Why are you telling me this?”
She seems taken aback by the harshness of my tone and frowns, so I sigh and add, “I mean, I don’t tell you anything about my love life, so why are you telling me about yours?”
Sam’s frown deepens. “I just— I thought you should know— I mean. . . You’re my best friend.”
I scoff and before I can stop myself I say, “Am I though?”
“What?”
“Your best friend?” I clarify, ignoring how crushed she looks at the implication of my words. “We’ve barely spoken in nine months.”
“And whose fault is that?” she snaps back defensively. She crosses her arms over her chest and eyes me with a challenging glare.
I know she’s not actually mad, she’s just hurt and she’s put up her guard, so I deflate a little.
She’s right, it’s my fault we haven’t really talked since Christmas, but I’m not about to spill the beans and tell her why.
“Look,” I say softly. “Let’s not get into this now.”
“Why not?” she asks harshly. “Because you can’t just hang up if it gets too much?”
I cringe at that because lately every time she calls and asks what’s wrong I usually come up with an excuse to hang up or ignore her texts.
I shake my head and let out a deep breath. “Let’s just find Tara okay, we can get into this tomorrow.”
Sam bites the inside of her cheek and the storm of emotions in her eyes makes me believe she’s about to disagree, but then she huffs and turns around to continue leading our way to the frat house.
Long story short, at the party, Sam ends up tasing a guy who tried to drag Tara upstairs in the balls which in turn leads to Tara storming out with the rest of us— Mindy, her girlfriend Anika, Chad, Chad’s roommate Ethan, Sam, and me— hot on her heels.
“Tara, will you stop?” Sam says, sounding irritated as Tara continues to dash ahead. She’s short and has asthma, so she’s not going all too fast, but still. . .
She has yet to realize I’m also here, but I don’t want to get in the middle of what’s about to go down between her and Sam, so I stay back with the others, the twins having greeted me with quick hugs a moment ago before officially introducing me to Anika and Ethan.
“I cannot believe you did that! You embarrassed me!” Tara shouts over her shoulder.
“That guy was a dick. He was going to take advantage of you,” Sam argues and even though she’s right, that guy was really sleazy, she didn’t actually have to tase him. Also it looked like Chad had it covered, but I’m not about to get in the middle of this.
“So?” Tara stops abruptly and turns on her heels to face Sam.
The rest of us come to a halt a safe distance away, but I raise my eyebrows at what Tara just said.
“So?” Sam echoes incredulously, voicing my exact thoughts, but Tara is not having it.
“If I want to hook up with an asshole that’s my decision!” she shouts and even though she’s right, it is her decision, I don’t like the way she’s talking to Sam like she did something wrong by trying to protect her.
Sam tenses and I know what Tara just said hit a nerve, but she stays calm and simply nods dismissively. “Okay. . .”
Tara doesn’t seem to be done just yet though because she goes on, “I mean, you’re out of my life for five years and then you can’t leave me alone for five minutes.”
Yikes. She’s right, but. . . yikes.
“Because you’re not dealing with what happened to us,” Sam shoots back, her voice relatively calm. “Have you even gone to see the counselor once?”
“No, I’m not going to.”
“Why not?”
I sigh and share at look with Chad and Mindy who seem to be hating this just as much as me, if not even more because it sounds like this isn’t the first time the two sisters have been at each other’s throats.
Anika and Ethan just look uncomfortable and if it weren’t for the fight I’d laugh at how ridiculous they look, what with Ethan wearing Anika’s pumpkin hat and Anika wearing Ethan’s ridiculous cardboard helmet that matches his handcrafted chest plate.
“Hey, guys, come on,” Chad tries to step in at one point when Tara accuses Sam of living in the past, but he’s straight up ignored and I shoot him a pitiful look when our eyes meet.
They continue bickering, and even though I agree with Tara that we shouldn’t let something that happened to us for three days define the rest of our lives, I don’t like how she puts Sam on the spot in front of everyone by asking why she’s in New York with the rest of them.
After what feels like hours, they finally stop which is when, out of nowhere, a girl walking by yells, “Murderer!” and throws her drink at Sam.
Sam recoils and chaos erupts. There’s shouting and cursing, and a bunch of accusations thrown at Sam about God knows what, and I’m barely fast enough to rush forward and wrap my arms around her stomach from behind to prevent her from lunging at the girl who threw her drink at her.
Everything is over in a blur and before we know it the grill and her friends have left and the people who stopped and stood around to watch are moving on as though nothing happened.
I let go of Sam as soon as I’m sure she won’t do anything reckless again and step back, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Chad is also holding back Tara.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask, but no one answers and Sam even looks away as though she’s ashamed of something.
“Let’s just go.” Tara sighs and turns to leave, grabbing Anika’s and Chad’s arm.
Mindy frowns but agrees and is quick to follow them, leaving Ethan behind with me and Sam, who is currently trying to wring out her shirt.
“Hey, I. . . I have tissues if you want tissues,” Ethan offers kindly, pulling some tissues out of his pocket and handing them to Sam.
She wordlessly takes them and Ethan awkwardly looks between the two of us for a moment, obviously not knowing what else to do before hurrying after the others.
What an odd kid.
Sam dabs at her neck and hair where most of the drink hit her and she’s about to brush past me to follow the others as well, but I step in front of her and gently touch her forearm.
“Wait.”
Defeated brown eyes find mine, and the way she deflates when looking at me breaks my heart.
I have no idea what that girl and her friends meant when they called her a murderer and when they said she “knows what she did”, but now’s not the time to ask about it.
I take the used tissues from Sam and momentarily stuff them into the back pocket of my jeans so I have my hands free to unzip and take off my hoodie.
“Here, take this.” I hold it out to Sam, who simply eyes it with furrowed eyebrows.
“What?”
“Take off your shirt and put this on. I know how you hate it when clothes stick to you.” I wiggled the hoodie a little and raise an eyebrow until she sighs and takes it.
When we were kids I found out how she hates wearing wet clothes after pushing her into our pool after school once.
She wasn’t mad at first because it was summer and we both really needed to cool off, but then she got out of the water and her mood immediately turned sour.
She never explained why, but I knew it was because of her clothes clinging to her, so I never pushed her into the water again unless she was wearing a bikini or swimsuit.
“Thank you.” Sam’s small voice brings me back to reality and when I look up again I see she’s already changed into my hoodie. Her shirt is clutched between her fingers to the point where her knuckles are turning white, but I don’t comment on it.
She’s humiliated, sad, angry, and embarrassed, so all I say is, “You’re welcome,” before gesturing for her to lead the way and follow the others.
She lowers her chin in silent thanks again and starts walking, and I follow her after quickly darting over to one of the nearby trash cans and disposing of the tissues.
What a night. . . Maybe I should have stayed at Liam’s and watched some TV.
_______________________________________________
We’re in New York, people! And Ghostface is right around the corner. . .
Poor Sam, getting a drink thrown on her, but the way she clapped back at reader on their way to the party? Damn. . .
And Tara hasn’t even acknowledged reader yet hahah but it’s okay, they’ll talk in the next part.
Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137
#x reader#sam carpenter x reader#samantha carpenter x reader#sam carpenter#samantha carpenter#scream#light angst
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Reality Love Winner | K.Mg
Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, exes to lovers au!
Summary: Mingyu needs money, as well as you. So joining a reality dating show for money wouldn't hurt anybody right?
Hello everybody! First fic in 2025 and i hope you enjoy this lil fluffy fluffity fluff of Mingoo🥰
What he remembered about you the most?
A three-month relationship felt like a whirlwind—a fleeting moment of bliss before reality forced you both apart. It wasn’t that the love was absent; it was just overshadowed by the weight of your individual ambitions.
But even with its brevity, your time together left a searing mark on Mingyu. What stood out the most wasn’t the laughter, the conversations, or the shared dreams—it was the intimacy. He vividly recalled the nights when the two of you were tangled in his sheets, naked and desperate to escape the stress of your demanding lives. Heated kisses that turned into frenzied passion. Sloppy thrusts that silenced the chaos of the outside world.
Every encounter felt like an unspoken agreement to forget your struggles by losing yourselves in each other. Mingyu knew your favorite position by heart, learning your body as if it were a masterpiece he’d been tasked to perfect. He was meticulous, deliberate, obsessed. And every time, he was grateful for his early mornings at the gym, pumping iron and building strength—not just to look good, but to keep up with you.
On the wall, on the table, on the bed, or sprawled across the floor—Mingyu was always ready. Sitting, lying down, or standing, he gave you everything he had. It wasn’t just sex; it was an act of devotion, a way to show you how much he craved you, admired you, worshiped you.
What haunted him most wasn’t just the absence of those moments, but the fire you left behind. You were a storm he couldn’t forget, a fever that lingered in his veins long after you’d gone. He didn’t just remember you; he felt you, like a phantom touch, long after you’d both walked away.
For Mingyu, obsession wasn’t even the right word—it was something deeper, something primal. You were the one indulgence he never wanted to give up, the addiction he never thought he’d have to quit.
"Let's break up."
The words fell from your lips with a quiet finality, and he knew—this was it. The end. He had always known it would come to this, hadn’t he? Even from the beginning, there had been an unspoken truth lingering between the two of you.
You were too devoted to your work, pouring your heart and soul into a career that demanded every ounce of your time and energy. And Mingyu? He had his own empire to build, a business that consumed him in ways even he didn’t anticipate.
There was no space for you and him in the cracks of your busy lives, no room to nurture what little love you had managed to build. Every moment together felt like stealing time from a ticking clock, and the pressure of it all had slowly worn you both down.
Calling it quits was the better option, the logical one. Yet as he looked at you, standing there with that familiar fire in your eyes dimmed by sadness, he couldn’t help but wonder if logic was enough to soothe the ache in his chest. The ache of knowing that what could have been would never be.
He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to change your mind. He simply nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as the weight of reality settled over him. Because deep down, Mingyu knew that loving you had always been a beautiful impossibility.
However, Mingyu heard the news about you through Seungkwan, the friend who had introduced the two of you in the first place.
“She got involved with a senior and was manipulated. It wasn’t fair, but you know how companies work,” Seungkwan explained, his tone laced with disappointment.
Mingyu felt a rush of anger surge through him as the words sank in. You had worked your ass off, pouring everything you had into your career, only to be cast aside like that? It wasn’t just unfair—it was cruel.
As he stewed in frustration, an idea began to form in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to turn your current misfortune into an opportunity for both of you. He’d recently heard about Reality Show Love, a dating show still in the process of casting couples. The prize money was massive—enough to breathe life back into his struggling business and possibly even give you a fresh start.
All you had to do was agree.
When he called you one night to pitch the idea, your voice was sharp and unyielding. “I’m not doing it!”
“Come on, Y/n!” Mingyu countered, his tone pleading yet persuasive. “It’s not like we’re going to actually be a real couple. We just have to act a little, play the part, and scam the audience. Easy money!”
He quickly rattled off the prize amount, letting the number hang in the air. The silence on the other end of the line told him everything he needed to know—you were considering it.
“What do you think?” he pressed, the edge of excitement creeping into his voice. “We split it 50:50. Half for me, half for you.”
You exhaled, your hesitation audible, before finally muttering, “Alright. Deal.”
And just like that, the wheels were set in motion. The two of you now stood alongside three other couples in a luxurious villa meticulously prepared by the production crew. In the narrative crafted for the show, you were cast as a one-year-old couple—a boss and their assistant—an angle the casting team found intriguing enough to secure your spot.
“I think it’ll be more interesting if we have opposite charms,” Mingyu had suggested during one of your brainstorming sessions to make your ‘relationship’ believable. “Like a golden retriever and a black cat dynamic?”
You raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across your face. “I don’t want to be the dog. That sounds exhausting.”
Mingyu huffed dramatically, crossing his arms. “Fine, I’ll take the golden retriever role. I’ve been a dog all my life, anyway. You can be the black cat—it suits your real personality.” His tone turned teasing as a sly grin spread across his face.
Your eyes narrowed. “Watch it, Kim Mingyu. You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself.”
The banter was light, but it was also necessary. Every detail of your fabricated relationship had to be convincing—not just to the production team, but to the millions of viewers who would be scrutinizing every interaction.
Once the introductions were complete, the couples were assigned their respective rooms, though there was a twist: men and women would be separated. It was part of the show’s strategy to create tension and test bonds. The host announced the premise of the competition. Over ten episodes, the couples would face various missions designed to showcase their dynamics and challenge their chemistry. Only one couple would make it to the end to claim the grand prize.
“Sounds pretty easy, right?” Mingyu whispered as the rules were being explained, leaning closer to you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “As long as we keep working together.”
You glanced at him, catching the rare blend of excitement and determination on his face. “Easy for you to say,” you murmured back. “Just don’t forget your lines, golden retriever.”
Mingyu smirked, the confidence in his expression unshakable. “Don’t worry, black cat. I’ve got this.”
And as the cameras rolled, capturing every calculated glance and practiced smile, the real game began.
*
As two episodes aired, the reaction to you and Mingyu was massive. No one had expected a couple that looked like they walked straight off the pages of a magazine to join a reality dating show—and with such surprising charm, no less.
Viewers were captivated, fully buying into the backstory crafted for your relationship: a boss who had fallen in love with his assistant after working tirelessly together to build a business from the ground up. The narrative felt heartfelt and relatable, leaving audiences touched and rooting for you both.
Mingyu’s likeable persona quickly became a hot topic on the internet. His name trended on search engines for two weeks straight, with fans gushing over his effortless charisma and warm personality. A particular clip of him cooking breakfast for all the contestants went viral, drawing millions of views and flooding comment sections with admiration.
“Boyfriend material!”
“Kim Mingyu is the blueprint.”
“How can someone be this handsome and good at cooking?!”
The buzz surrounding him was electric, turning him into an overnight sensation. Meanwhile, your poised yet subtly feisty demeanor perfectly balanced his golden retriever energy, solidifying the two of you as fan favorites.
With each new episode, it became increasingly clear—you and Mingyu weren’t just playing the game. You were stealing the show.
To keep up with the growing tension and maintain the audience's interest, you and Mingyu had a private meeting to brainstorm new strategies to market your relationship as even more likeable.
“Should we make you anxious about all the attention I’ve gotten these past two episodes?” Mingyu suggested, a teasing glint in his eyes. You chuckled, feeling a flicker of hesitation. You had never lived a life filled with worry, so the idea felt a little foreign to you.
“Should I try, Y/n?” he pressed, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to bite. Mingyu still couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could live so carefree, with no worries to weigh them down.
You considered it, then threw out another idea. “Or maybe we could stress the point that you’re completely obsessed with me because I’m so pretty?”
Mingyu groaned, clearly not impressed. “Please, Y/n. You’re not helping your case.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, the playful frustration in his voice making you smirk.
“Or you could act jealous,” you continued, clearly enjoying the banter. “I could flirt with one of the other cast members. Get some real drama going.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened in mock horror, then lit up with excitement. “Brilliant!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “People love watching someone else get jealous. It’s perfect.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. As ridiculous as it was, you knew one thing for sure: the next few episodes were going to be a whole lot more interesting.
As the next few episodes aired, you followed through with the plan—interacting more with the other male cast members, engaging in lighthearted conversations, laughing a little too easily, and making sure the cameras were capturing every moment. You could feel Mingyu's eyes on you, though he pretended to stay calm. But it didn’t take long for his frustration to show. The subtle way his jaw tightened when you spoke to the others, the barely noticeable sighs, and the way his gaze lingered on you longer than usual—it was all too obvious.
And, of course, the cameras were quick to catch it. The production team loved the drama, and it didn’t take long for the clips to go viral. The viewers ate it up, with fans speculating whether Mingyu’s frustration was real or just another part of the act. Was he truly jealous? Was the "golden retriever" becoming possessive over his "black cat"?
Behind the scenes, the tension was palpable. The other women started to notice too, their glances sharp as you exchanged playful remarks with the other men. The whispers began to spread, and soon it was clear: they weren’t just jealous of your interactions with the men—they were envious of the attention you were getting from everyone.
“Did you see how Y/n was acting with him?” one of the women muttered, her voice low but full of disdain. “She doesn’t even care about Mingyu. It’s like she’s trying to make him jealous on purpose.”
“Exactly,” another woman added, eyeing you from across the room. “It’s disrespectful. If she really cared about him, she wouldn’t be all over everyone else.”
You could feel their eyes burning into your back, but you played it cool, smiling and continuing your act. After all, it was all part of the game. But the other women’s comments only made the drama more intense. The cameras were always watching, capturing every move, every subtle exchange, making sure the growing animosity was on full display for the viewers.
Meanwhile, Mingyu’s behavior was becoming more and more erratic. He'd snap at the smallest things, acting like every interaction you had with the other men was a betrayal. His reactions—though exaggerated—were feeding into the narrative the producers wanted: a couple on the brink of imploding.
“You’re making it hard for me to stay calm, Y/n,” Mingyu muttered one evening, when the two of you were alone, as the cameras rolled. “Everyone’s watching, and you’re just giving them what they want.”
You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “What do you mean? I’m just being friendly.”
But you could see the struggle in his eyes. It wasn’t easy for him to pretend it didn’t bother him.
The drama between the two of you was escalating, and with it, the show’s viewership skyrocketed. Fans were torn between rooting for your playful chemistry and wondering just how far Mingyu’s jealousy would go before everything exploded. The producers were thrilled, and for the first time in the show’s history, the audience was completely invested in your “relationship.”
By the time the fifth episode aired, the tension had reached a boiling point. The producers, eager to keep the drama flowing, decided to bring up something that would really shake things up: the couples' pasts. The production team had asked each couple to submit stories from their past, their struggles, and moments from their present lives to add depth to their on-screen personas. You and Mingyu, caught up in the whirlwind of the show, had submitted a mixture of made-up tales and, honestly, a few true stories—mostly because you couldn’t be bothered to fabricate everything.
But the producers, ever the masterminds of manipulation, weren’t content with just the surface-level drama. They chose to highlight certain moments—stories that you didn’t expect to come to light. One of those stories was about your three-year relationship with your ex.
You sat there, feeling a lump form in your throat as the host casually brought it up.
“So, in your past, Y/n, you had a significant relationship that lasted three years,” the host began, looking at you with a knowing smile. “Can you tell us about that?”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel the room shift. Mingyu shot you a concerned glance, but he quickly masked it with his usual carefree smile, trying to play along with the show’s narrative.
You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. It wasn’t just another story—it was your story. The pain, the memories of that time, resurfaced like a wave crashing over you. You had tried so hard to bury it, to move forward with Mingyu and keep your focus on the present, but here it was, dragged out into the light.
“I… it was a complicated time,” you began, your voice shaky, trying to maintain your composure. "We were in different places in life. It ended because of... differences in what we wanted, what we valued."
The host nodded, prompting you to continue. "It’s just hard to let go of someone you spent so much time with, especially when the future felt uncertain. But I thought I had moved on… until now."
The words hit harder than you expected, and your mind raced with all the unresolved emotions tied to that past. You had moved on from your ex, yes, but the scars it left were deeper than you had allowed yourself to acknowledge.
As the story played out on-screen, you could see Mingyu's eyes flicker with a mix of concern and something else—something that felt too close to discomfort for comfort. The producers, with their expert timing, had turned a lighthearted conversation into something raw, something personal.
“And how does Mingyu feel about you sharing this part of your past?” the host asked, turning the spotlight onto him.
Mingyu’s smile faltered for a second, the weight of your past suddenly making him uneasy. He leaned forward, looking directly at you, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension rising. "It’s just a part of her story," he said with a slight chuckle. "I’m not worried about it. I trust her."
But you could tell it wasn’t as simple as that. The air between the two of you shifted, just for a moment, and the playful, teasing dynamic you had spent episodes building seemed to falter.
The room grew quiet, and the cameras were rolling, capturing every inch of your discomfort. Mingyu, ever the showman, quickly recovered, but his earlier comment about trusting you sounded more like a plea than a statement of confidence.
The host pushed on, sensing the discomfort. “So, Y/n, do you think you’ve fully healed from that relationship? And how does it affect your relationship with Mingyu now?”
You took a breath, trying to regain control of the situation. You didn’t want to seem vulnerable—not on national TV, not when you had built a persona of the confident, carefree woman. But the question hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
“I... I thought I had,” you said softly, eyes dropping to the table for a moment. "But sometimes, things from the past come up, and you realize there are still things you need to process. It’s not always easy."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension, the cameras capturing the moment for the world to see. You could almost feel Mingyu’s gaze on you, but you didn’t look up. He didn’t need to know how much that relationship still affected you. You were here now. You had him now.
But the damage was done. The audience, the cast, and even Mingyu were left to stew in the emotions that had been stirred up. The past was never truly gone—it was just waiting for the right moment to resurface, and now everyone could see the cracks in your carefully constructed armor.
As the episode ended, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a turning point. Mingyu had already taken the role of the jealous, possessive partner in this show, but this revelation might be more than he could handle. You couldn’t tell if it was the game or real feelings on his part, but something about this challenge had just gotten a lot more complicated.
*
Mingyu drove you home in silence, the weight of the day hanging heavy in the air. He hadn’t expected your real story to be exposed on national TV. It wasn’t just part of the game anymore—it was raw, unfiltered, and it had clearly shaken you. He parked his car in the basement of your apartment building, and without saying much, he helped you carry the bags and equipment from the shoot to your unit.
"Thanks," you said softly, your voice still a little strained, though you tried to mask it.
He nodded, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment, noticing how your mood had completely shifted since the shoot. The lightness you had carried with you before seemed to vanish, replaced by a palpable weight.
"Hey... You okay?" Mingyu finally asked, his tone careful, as though testing the waters.
You nodded, though it felt mechanical. "Yeah... just tired."
He watched you for a moment, but the tightness around your eyes and the way you held yourself told a different story. Something was off. Mingyu tightened the line of his lips, unsure of what to say next, but his instincts told him to push just a little more.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" he said, his voice low but earnest.
You shook your head slowly, your palm instinctively rising to cover your face. The sob that escaped was uncontrollable, the emotion you had kept bottled up for so long suddenly breaking free. You hadn't realized how much of it had been building inside you until that moment.
Mingyu’s eyes softened, his heart sinking as he saw the vulnerability in you that you usually kept hidden. He immediately stepped forward, closing the distance between you, and pulled you into his arms.
"Oh... Y/n... it’s okay," he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back as he held you. He didn’t say much more—there was no need for words. His embrace, steady and comforting, was all you needed in that moment.
He didn’t push you to explain. He simply held you as the tension in your body began to release, feeling the weight of everything you’d been carrying.
Mingyu held you tightly, his embrace warm and steady. The sound of your sobs was muffled against his chest, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The world outside your small apartment felt miles away as you allowed yourself to break down, to release everything that had been building up inside of you.
He gently stroked your hair, his fingers moving in soothing circles as he waited. His chest tightened, heart aching at the rawness of the pain you were carrying. He wanted to ask you what had happened, why the past hurt so much. But he knew better than to push too hard, too fast.
"You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready," Mingyu whispered, his voice soft but filled with concern. "I’m here. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll listen."
You pulled back slightly, your face still hidden behind your hand as you wiped your tears. It was a small, fragile moment, the kind of thing you didn’t allow anyone to see. You had built walls around your emotions, convinced that vulnerability only made you weak. But in that instant, with Mingyu, the walls began to crumble.
"I didn’t want them to know," you said, your voice breaking. "Not like that. Not on national TV. It feels like... like I have no control anymore."
Mingyu’s expression softened, and he reached up to gently lower your hand from your face. He looked at you with those warm, steady eyes of his—eyes that had seen your strength but never pressured you to be perfect.
"You don’t have to control everything," he said quietly. "It’s okay to let go sometimes. It’s okay to not have everything figured out."
You stared at him, feeling a mix of gratitude and confusion. You had always prided yourself on being independent, not needing anyone. But now, in this vulnerable moment, Mingyu’s words pierced through the walls you had built around your heart.
"I’m so sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I didn’t mean to bring this into the show. I didn’t mean to drag you into it."
Mingyu shook his head gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a gesture of comfort. "You don’t need to apologize to me. You’re not dragging me into anything. I chose to be here, with you." His voice grew steadier, more certain. "And I’m not going anywhere."
The sincerity in his words settled around you like a blanket, comforting and warm. You had always admired Mingyu’s ability to stay calm under pressure, but now, seeing him so open with you, a part of you finally let go.
For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to lean into the comfort of someone else, to let your guard down without fearing rejection or disappointment. Mingyu didn’t look at you like you were broken. He didn’t judge you for your past, for the messiness of your emotions. He simply accepted you for who you were in that moment.
As the silence stretched on, you took a deep breath, your tears slowing. It wasn’t that everything was fixed—it was far from that—but for the first time, you felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe things didn’t have to be perfect. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to do it all alone.
Mingyu’s arms were still around you, his presence a quiet reassurance that you weren’t as alone as you thought. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe it.
*
It was a collaborative game, and the tension was palpable. Blindfolded, Mingyu had to follow your instructions to retrieve an item. The more valuable the item, the more points you and Mingyu would earn. You both managed to snag a teddy bear, worth 75 points—second only to a ring box, which was worth 100. The competition was heating up.
The next game was a chase. You and the other female contestants would chase after your partners and try to rip off their sticker. The energy was high, and it was clear that both you and Mingyu were in it to win. Mingyu had always been competitive; winning was almost a reflex for him. And you? You were determined to do anything it took to secure the victory. It made for the perfect dynamic between the two of you.
You sprinted after Minho, Suji’s partner, moving with precision, waiting for the perfect moment to slyly rip the sticker from his back. Meanwhile, Suji, who was supposed to be focusing on Mingyu, couldn’t help but get distracted by the sight of you in full chase mode.
With a triumphant grin, you tore the sticker off Minho’s back and bolted toward Mingyu. You threw your arms around him in celebration, his smile wide as the buzzer signaled the end of the round. His sticker had remained intact, and your victory was assured.
As everyone gathered for a well-deserved break in the gazebo, refreshments were passed around, and Mingyu handed you a glass of orange juice and some sweets with a thoughtful smile. You couldn't help but think that his gesture was more for the audience's benefit—especially since all the other women were stealing glances at the two of you. The chemistry between you and Mingyu was undeniable, and it wasn’t lost on the others.
Teasingly, you reached up and softly rubbed his cheek, your fingers grazing his skin as you leaned in closer. "Good job, baby," you murmured with a grin.
Mingyu froze for a moment, genuinely surprised. The blush creeping onto his cheeks was almost impossible to hide, his ears tinged with the faintest shade of red. He turned quickly to grab his own drink, still flustered, trying to compose himself. The effortless chemistry between the two of you was apparent, and though the cameras caught it all, neither of you seemed to mind.
As the cast mingled around the gazebo, you noticed Mingyu standing nearby, fidgeting slightly while sipping his drink. His earlier blush hadn’t completely faded, and it made you smile to yourself. Stepping closer, you nudged him gently, making sure the cameras had a clear view.
"Hey," you said softly, your tone full of warmth. "Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself during the game, did you?"
Mingyu turned to you, his expression softening immediately. He set his drink down, leaning slightly toward you as if to close the gap. "Me? Hurt? Come on, babe, you know me better than that," he replied with a playful smirk.
You crossed your arms, feigning a skeptical look. "Oh, really? I saw how Suji almost tackled you earlier. It looked intense."
He chuckled, his hand instinctively reaching out to rest on your arm, a small but noticeable gesture caught by the cameras. "She tried, but you know I wasn’t going to let anyone mess with my sticker. Besides," he added, his voice lowering, "you were the one I was worried about. Did Minho give you a hard time?"
"Not even close," you replied with a grin, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "He underestimated me, and I had him cornered in no time. But honestly, you didn’t have to worry about me."
Mingyu tilted his head, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Of course I worry about you. You’re my girlfriend. It’s kind of my job, you know."
You laughed lightly, but his words and the gentle way he looked at you made your cheeks heat up. Playing along for the cameras, you reached out to adjust the collar of his shirt, letting your hand linger just a bit. "Well, if it’s your job, you’re doing pretty well so far," you teased.
His ears turned a little pink at the affectionate gesture, but he recovered quickly, placing his hand over yours. "And you? You were incredible out there. Honestly, I couldn’t have done it without you."
"Stop," you said with a playful shove, though your smile was genuine.
Mingyu caught your hand before you could pull away, intertwining his fingers with yours just enough to make it look natural but undeniably intimate. "I’m serious," he said, his tone softer now. "You’re the reason we’re killing it out here."
The subtle touch, the way his voice dipped just enough to make it personal, and the little glances exchanged were all perfectly timed for the cameras. From the outside, it looked like a real moment of connection—and for a fleeting second, even you weren’t sure how much of it was just an act.
The night air was cool, but the crackling fireplace in the center of the group cast a warm glow, creating a cozy atmosphere. Everyone sat in a loose circle, bundled in blankets, sipping warm drinks, and buzzing with energy. The production team had introduced a truth-or-dare session as part of the episode, and it didn’t take long for things to heat up.
Each couple was put on the spot, tasked with either revealing secrets or proving their chemistry through daring challenges. You and Mingyu were relentless, using every opportunity to push the other couples to their limits.
"Truth or dare?" Mingyu grinned devilishly at Suji and Minho, leaning forward slightly.
Minho sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dare," he finally said, clearly regretting it the moment Mingyu’s eyes lit up.
"Alright," you jumped in, smirking as you exchanged a look with Mingyu. "Minho, we dare you to serenade Suji. Let’s see if you can melt her heart with your voice."
The group erupted in laughter as Minho reluctantly grabbed a nearby guitar. Suji’s amused but skeptical look was priceless, and the whole scene played out perfectly for the cameras.
But soon, it was your turn.
"Truth or dare, Y/n and Mingyu?" Minho asked, his earlier payback evident in his mischievous tone.
You glanced at Mingyu, who shrugged, his grin challenging. "Dare," you both said in unison.
Minho leaned back, his smile spreading. "We dare you two… to make out. Right here, right now, in front of everyone."
The group collectively gasped, the dare sending waves of anticipation through the circle. The cameras zoomed in, catching every reaction.
You turned to Mingyu, raising an eyebrow. "You game?"
Mingyu chuckled, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk. "It’s just for the cameras, right?" he whispered, leaning a little closer to you.
The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation, the fire casting flickering shadows across everyone’s faces. All eyes were on the two of you, waiting. Mingyu reached for your hand, his palm warm and steady against your own. The simple touch sent a ripple through you, the intimacy of the moment amplified by the crowd and the rolling cameras.
He tugged you closer, his tall frame leaning down slightly to meet you. His free hand found its way to your waist, the pressure gentle but grounding, like he was anchoring you to him amidst the tension that seemed to thicken the air.
"Alright," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper meant only for you. His breath brushed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Let’s give them a show."
You swallowed, your pulse quickening. Mingyu’s gaze held yours for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, a flicker of something unspoken in his deep brown eyes. Was it amusement? Confidence? Or something softer, more genuine? You couldn’t tell, and it only made your heart race more.
As you leaned in, the world around you seemed to blur. Your lips met his, soft at first, a tentative touch that betrayed the scripted nature of the dare. But then, something shifted. Mingyu’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepened.
His lips moved against yours with a rhythm that felt almost too natural, too real. The crackle of the fire and the murmurs from the others faded away entirely. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, wrapped in a bubble that no one else could penetrate.
Your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of his touch seeped through you, mingling with the fire’s heat and the faint scent of woodsmoke in the air.
Mingyu tilted his head, adjusting the angle, and the kiss grew more deliberate. His thumb brushed your waist in a subtle, almost comforting gesture. Was he trying to reassure you? Or was he just as caught up in the moment as you were?
Your emotions were a whirlwind. There was the rush of performing for the cameras, the thrill of the audience’s attention, but also something deeper—something unexpected. The kiss felt too perfect, too seamless, as though it wasn’t just an act.
When you finally pulled away, the spell broke. The group erupted into cheers and whistles, their energy breaking the tension like a dam giving way. Mingyu didn’t let go immediately. His hand lingered at your waist, and his lips, now curved into a satisfied smile, glistened slightly in the firelight.
His gaze met yours, and for a second, the world seemed to slow again. There was a flicker of something behind his playful smirk—a softness, a warmth that made your chest tighten.
"Not bad," he said quietly, his voice teasing but layered with something else, something almost unreadable.
You tried to steady your breath, forcing a grin to match his. "Not bad yourself."
As you turned back to the group, the cheers and teasing chatter filled the air, but your mind lingered on the kiss. You couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something about it had felt undeniably real—and by the way Mingyu’s hand brushed against yours as he moved to grab a drink, you wondered if he might have felt the same.
*
The shoot for the next episode had wrapped up, but the atmosphere off-camera was far from celebratory. A lingering tension buzzed in the air, and it all traced back to a bombshell dropped by Woorin, one of the female cast members, during a game.
“Are you two really a couple?” Woorin’s voice had cut through the lively chatter like a knife, her words laced with suspicion.
The question wasn’t lighthearted. Her tone carried weight, and the shift in the room was immediate. The other cast members exchanged glances, while the production crew subtly stopped what they were doing, their attention now laser-focused on you and Mingyu.
You exchanged a fleeting look with Mingyu, your heart pounding. You both knew this question might come up eventually, but not like this. Mingyu was the first to speak, his voice steady despite the pressure.
“Of course, we are,” he said with a confident smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders for good measure. “Why would we fake something like that?”
But Woorin wasn’t convinced. “Really?” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Because I heard something… interesting.”
Your stomach dropped as Woorin leaned forward, her demeanor more like a detective than a reality show cast member.
"You know,” Woorin said, her voice calm but calculated as she glanced between you and Mingyu. “This whole act of yours? It’s really convincing. Almost too convincing. Especially considering… you two are exes.”
Her words hung in the air like a storm cloud. The other cast members froze, their eyes darting between you and Mingyu. The production crew exchanged worried glances, unsure whether to keep filming or intervene.
You felt the blood drain from your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked at Mingyu, who seemed equally caught off guard.
“What are you talking about?” Mingyu asked, his tone attempting nonchalance, though his jaw tightened.
Woorin smirked, clearly enjoying the drama. “Oh, come on,” she said. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. A little digging, a chat with some mutual acquaintances… and voilà. You two used to date, didn’t you?”
The silence that followed was deafening. The cast members leaned in, their curiosity piqued. Even the cameras seemed to loom closer, capturing every flicker of emotion on your faces.
Finally, you found your voice. “That’s none of your business,” you said firmly, trying to regain control of the situation.
“But it is everyone’s business, isn’t it?” Woorin countered, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been parading around as this perfect couple for the cameras. Don’t you think the audience deserves to know the truth?”
The director immediately called for a break, and the cameras were turned off. The producer stormed onto the set, pulling you and Mingyu aside for an emergency meeting.
Inside a quiet room, the producer’s expression was a mix of frustration and concern. “Is it true?” they asked, their voice low but intense. “Were you two in a relationship before this show?”
You hesitated, your gaze darting to Mingyu. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before nodding. “Yes,” he admitted. “We dated. But it was a long time ago.”
“How long ago?” the producer pressed.
“A year ago,” you said quietly. “It ended on good terms. We’re just… friends now.”
The producer let out a deep breath, pacing the room. “This is a nightmare,” they muttered. “If this gets out, it’ll overshadow the entire show. The audience will think everything’s staged.”
Mingyu stepped forward, his voice steady. “We didn’t plan this to deceive anyone. We’ve been doing our best to play our roles and keep things professional.”
The producer stopped pacing, their gaze sharp. “Professional? You call this professional? Woorin just uncovered your past in front of everyone. How are we supposed to recover from this?”
“We’ll handle it,” you said, your voice stronger now. “We’ll find a way to address it without ruining the show.”
The producer shook their head but finally relented. “Fine. But we’re going to need a strategy. You two need to be on the same page, and no more surprises.”
As the meeting ended, you and Mingyu were left alone in the room, the weight of the revelation pressing down on both of you.
Mingyu finally spoke, his voice soft. “I didn’t think Woorin would dig that deep.”
“Neither did I,” you admitted, leaning against the wall. “But now that it’s out, we have to figure out what to do.”
Mingyu looked at you, his expression serious. “We’ve been convincing so far. Maybe we can still turn this around.”
You nodded, though your mind was racing. “We don’t have a choice,” you said. “We either control the narrative or let it control us.”
Mingyu smiled faintly, a flicker of determination in his eyes. “Then let’s give them a story they’ll never forget."
*
Mingyu decided to stay at your place after the chaotic shoot, both of you desperate to pitch a salvageable story to the production team. The stakes were high, and the tension between you two was palpable, though you masked it with humor and exhaustion.
“He threatened to kick us off the show, Y/n! What about our money?” Mingyu groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch beside you like a deflated balloon.
You rubbed your face, equally frustrated. “Min Woorin must be insanely jealous to dig that deep into our past. I mean, I didn’t even talk to her boyfriend. It’s not my fault he’s the one trying to be overly friendly with me!”
Mingyu nodded vehemently, his annoyance bubbling to the surface. “Exactly! That Juyoung bastard couldn’t stop staring at your butt the entire time. I swear, I’ll kick him in the face the next time he even glances your way!”
A moment of silence settled between you, both of you letting out a deep sigh in unison, the absurdity of the situation hitting you like a wave.
“What should we do, Mingyu?” you asked, your voice softer now, tinged with worry.
Mingyu raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “This wasn’t part of the plan, Y/n. Getting caught? That wasn’t in the cards.”
You leaned into his shoulder, seeking some sort of comfort. “Neither was this for me,” you murmured.
After a beat, you spoke again, your voice laced with hesitation. “Should we just… be honest about our story? I mean, if the audience reacts well, I’m pretty sure the producers will let us stay.”
Mingyu sighed deeply, his arm instinctively draping over your shoulders. “And what exactly is so interesting about our past story, huh?”
You tilted your head to look at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “The fact that you were completely obsessed with me?”
Mingyu snorted, his lips twitching into a smirk. “And you, who kept disappearing on me for a job that eventually fired you? Real romantic, Y/n.”
You jolted upright, indignantly slapping his arm. “Hey! That was not my fault!”
Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head as you settled back into your spot, leaning against him again. His teasing tone softened. “I’m kidding, Y/n. Relax.”
A quiet stillness filled the room as both of you let the exhaustion seep in. “Let’s sleep on it,” Mingyu finally said, his voice low and steady. “We’ll figure out what to say to the producer tomorrow.”
Before you could respond, he wrapped his arm tighter around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. It was so natural, so instinctive, that neither of you questioned it.
The weight of the day melted away as you both closed your eyes, the warmth of his presence lulling you to sleep. Without even realizing it, the two of you fell asleep together on the couch, tangled in a quiet understanding and comfort that only the two of you could share.
The next morning, you and Mingyu were summoned to an emergency meeting with the production team. Both of you arrived feeling uneasy, expecting the worst after the events of the previous day. However, to your immense relief, the team had come up with a new, more thrilling storyline to salvage the situation.
“We’ve decided to take a different approach,” the producer began, glancing between the two of you. “We’re going to reveal that you and Mingyu aren’t actually a couple. Instead, you’ve been part of an undercover mission to test the other couples’ loyalty.”
You exchanged a quick glance with Mingyu, the tension in your shoulders easing as the producer continued.
“This means that from the very start, there were only three real couples,” the producer explained, leaning forward with an air of excitement. “Your role will now be to challenge the loyalty and trust between the cast members and their partners, adding a layer of drama and intrigue to the show.”
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what happens if none of them survive the tests?”
The producer’s lips curled into a sly smile. “If no couple manages to stay together by the end, the two of you will win the prize money.”
You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at the audacity of the new twist. “So, we’re basically the villains now?” you asked, tilting your head as you tried to process the sudden shift.
“Not villains,” the producer clarified, though their tone suggested otherwise. “Think of yourselves as catalysts for truth. You’re here to reveal the cracks in their relationships—or prove their strength, if they can survive.”
You groaned in frustration as Mingyu drove the two of you home. The sound startled him, and he jolted slightly in his seat.
“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me!” Mingyu exclaimed, glancing at you with wide eyes.
“Won’t we look like villains?” you blurted out, the weight of your earlier decision sinking in. “We’re going to break somebody’s relationship, Mingyu!” You slapped his arm lightly in protest, and Mingyu winced dramatically.
“Think about the prize, Y/n,” he countered, his voice calm yet persuasive. “You said it yourself—you need the money to start your design studio. This is our chance!”
You slumped back in your seat, letting out a defeated sigh. “You’re right,” you muttered, though the guilt still gnawed at the edges of your resolve.
“But it’s still so wrong, Gyu!!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up.
Mingyu smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement as he processed what you had just called him. “Wait, did you just call me 'Gyu'?”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s your name. Kim Min Gyu. What else would I call you?”
He let out a hearty laugh, his tone tinged with nostalgia. “But you haven’t called me 'Gyu' since we broke up. No one ever says it the way you do—so affectionately.”
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I know, right? I’m just so naturally affectionate,” you quipped, your sarcasm barely masking the flicker of emotion in your voice.
Mingyu chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. Without thinking, he reached over and pinched your cheek gently. “You’re so dramatic sometimes,” he teased, though there was a softness in his tone that made your chest tighten.
For a moment, silence filled the car, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy with unspoken words, memories bubbling to the surface.
“Sometimes, I wonder why we broke up,” Mingyu murmured, his voice quieter now, tinged with regret.
You turned to look at him, your expression unreadable, before letting your gaze drift out the window. “Hm…” you hummed softly, as if lost in thought.
The air between you thickened with a mix of nostalgia, unresolved feelings, and the undeniable bond you shared. Neither of you said another word, but the weight of his question lingered in the car, refusing to be ignored.
As the car rolled to a stop outside your apartment building, you stayed quiet, your mind racing. Mingyu's words echoed in your head.
“Sometimes, I wonder why we broke up.”
It was such a simple sentence, yet it carried so much weight. You had been so sure you’d moved past what you and Mingyu had—so sure your relationship was part of a chapter you’d closed. But sitting beside him now, feeling the warmth of his presence and hearing the softness in his voice, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart stirred.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was humming under his breath, his fingers lightly drumming on the steering wheel. The casualness of it all—the ease in which he fit into your life, even after everything—confused you.
Why does it still feel so natural?
“Y/n?” Mingyu’s voice broke through your thoughts. You blinked, realizing he had already turned off the car and was looking at you with concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a small smile. But the truth was, you weren’t sure if you were okay. Not with the way your feelings were starting to shift.
Inside your apartment, the atmosphere was quieter, but your mind wasn’t. Mingyu helped you unpack the stuff from the shoot, his usual playful banter filling the space. He teased you about the way you had tripped during the game, mocked your competitive streak, and even reenacted how he "heroically" protected his sticker during the chase.
You laughed, but the sound felt hollow to you. Because as he moved around your living room, so comfortably as if he had never left, you felt your chest tighten again.
You hadn’t let yourself think about Mingyu this way in a long time. After the breakup, you buried the memories of him deep, convincing yourself it was better that way. But now, those memories were resurfacing—his laugh, his protectiveness, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he cared about.
And the way he had looked at you earlier in the car—like he still saw the world in you.
“Hey, Y/n,” Mingyu called, snapping his fingers in front of your face. You hadn’t realized you were staring at him.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been spacing out all evening,” he said, sitting beside you on the couch. He leaned closer, his face just inches from yours. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
Your heart skipped. He always knew how to read you too well, and that was terrifying.
“Nothing,” you lied, breaking eye contact. “Just tired.”
But as Mingyu leaned back, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, you knew it wasn’t nothing. Not anymore.
Because the feelings you thought you’d buried were resurfacing, blooming into something unfamiliar—something you weren’t sure you wanted to name yet. And sitting there beside Mingyu, you realized that no matter how much you tried to deny it, he was starting to become more than just your ex.
*
It was late afternoon, and Mingyu sat in a quiet corner of a chic café, laptop open as he skimmed through his emails. His attempt to juggle his business responsibilities with the chaos of the reality show had been taxing, but today’s meeting was a necessary step in keeping his plans on track.
The café door chimed, and Mingyu glanced up. A man entered, exuding quiet confidence. He was dressed sharply, his every movement composed and deliberate. Mingyu recognized him immediately—Wonwoo, the ex you had mentioned during the shoot, the one who had left a lasting impression on you.
Mingyu’s jaw tightened as Wonwoo approached. Of all the people he could have had a business meeting with, it had to be him.
“Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo greeted as he extended a hand, his tone polite but distant.
Mingyu stood, shaking Wonwoo’s hand. “Jeon Wonwoo. Thanks for making the time.”
The two men settled into their seats, the conversation starting off professionally. Mingyu kept his tone measured, his questions direct, but he couldn’t help the nagging thoughts that crept in.
This was the man who had been with you for three years. The man you couldn’t fully let go of, even when Mingyu had been in your life. Mingyu hated how easily those thoughts consumed him now.
As their discussion moved forward, Mingyu noticed something about Wonwoo that made him uneasy. The man was calm, composed, and had a way of speaking that drew people in—traits that Mingyu knew had probably captivated you once.
Toward the end of the meeting, Wonwoo leaned back, his gaze steady on Mingyu. “So,” he started casually, “you’re working with Y/n on this reality show, right?”
Mingyu stiffened, his hand tightening slightly on his coffee cup. “Yeah. What about it?”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Wonwoo’s lips. “Just curious how she’s doing. It’s been a while since we talked.”
Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “She’s fine. Doing great, actually.”
Wonwoo nodded, his expression unreadable. “Good to hear. She always had a way of pushing through tough situations. Guess that’s why she stuck with me for as long as she did.”
The words were light, but they hit Mingyu like a punch. He forced himself to stay composed, but his frustration bubbled beneath the surface.
“Y/n’s strong, no thanks to anyone else,” Mingyu replied, his tone sharper than intended.
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, but instead of responding, he simply smiled. “Interesting.”
As Mingyu sat in his car after the meeting with Wonwoo, the weight of unspoken emotions pressed heavily on his chest. The encounter had been professional on the surface, but beneath the veneer of polite conversation, a storm brewed within him.
Mingyu had always prided himself on being confident—bold even. But something about seeing Wonwoo, the man who had been such a significant part of your life, unraveled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
He couldn’t shake the image of Wonwoo’s calm demeanor, the way he carried himself with an air of assurance. It made Mingyu feel... small. He hated it. The jealousy gnawed at him, an unfamiliar and bitter taste he couldn’t ignore.
"He’s the kind of guy people don’t forget," Mingyu thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The words Wonwoo had said about you—how strong you were, how you’d stuck with him—echoed in his mind, fueling an insecurity he didn’t want to admit existed.
"Did you love him more than me?"
The question haunted him, the one he asked during the last time you were together. It wasn’t just about love—it was about lasting impact. Mingyu couldn’t bear the idea that, even after all this time, Wonwoo might still hold a place in your heart.
The drive home was silent, save for the sound of his uneven breathing. His mind raced through memories of your relationship—your laughter, the way you used to look at him like he was your entire world. Somewhere along the way, he had lost that, hadn’t he? He had let you slip through his fingers, and now he was left grappling with the fear that maybe, just maybe, someone else had filled the void he’d left behind.
Somehow he found himself in your way into your apartment and saw you sitting there, looking up at him with surprise, the storm inside him reached its peak. He hadn’t planned to confront you, but the words spilled out before he could stop them.
“Do you still think about Wonwoo?”
The question hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. Mingyu’s heart pounded as he watched your reaction. The way your eyes widened told him you hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be so vulnerable, so shaken.
But he couldn’t hold it back anymore. The encounter with Wonwoo had forced him to face something he’d been avoiding: his growing feelings for you. They weren’t the same as they’d been before, during your relationship. This time, they were deeper, more desperate, tinged with the fear of losing you again.
“It matters to me,” he said, his voice unsteady. “Because I don’t know where I stand with you. And seeing him—hearing about your history—it made me realize how much I hate the idea of not being enough.”
He felt exposed, like he’d just ripped open his chest and laid his heart bare. Mingyu had never been good at admitting his insecurities, but with you, it was different. You had always been different.
As you reassured him, your words sinking into his heart like a balm, Mingyu felt the tension begin to ease. But even as relief washed over him, there was still a lingering ache—a reminder of how much he wanted to prove himself to you. Not just as someone you had loved before, but as the person you could love again.
For Mingyu, it wasn’t just about rekindling what you’d had. It was about building something stronger, something unshakable. And in that moment, as he looked into your eyes, he silently vowed to do whatever it took to earn that place in your heart again.
*
The memory played vividly in Mingyu's mind as he sat in silence, staring blankly at his reflection in the car window. It was a conversation from a year ago, back when the cracks in your relationship had just begun to show—back when he still didn’t understand the weight you carried.
The words he’d overheard echoed in his mind, carving a painful clarity he hadn’t been prepared for. The reason behind your relentless work ethic—the late nights, the unwavering drive—had never made sense to him before. But now, as the pieces fell into place, the weight of it all hit him like a punch to the gut.
It was because of Wonwoo.
You had loved him enough to change yourself, to push yourself beyond limits, all in the hope of becoming what his family deemed "worthy." The thought of you, the bright, fierce person he knew, bending under the weight of someone else’s expectations was enough to make Mingyu’s chest tighten. He hated it—hated the idea of you sacrificing so much only to be rejected.
The mention of your broken engagement felt like a dagger twisting in his heart. An engagement. He hadn’t known things had been that serious between you and Wonwoo. It wasn’t just a fleeting romance or a long-term relationship—it was a promise of forever, one that had been shattered by people who had no right to decide your worth.
Mingyu’s hands clenched into fists on his lap as he recalled the times he’d teased you about your workaholic tendencies. He’d never realized there was a deeper pain driving you, a history that had left invisible scars. Now, knowing the truth, he felt an ache in his chest—part anger at Wonwoo and his family, part regret for not understanding you sooner.
When he saw you later that evening, sitting at your desk with your laptop open, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
"Y/n," he called softly, his voice unusually subdued.
You glanced up, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. "What is it?"
Mingyu hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours. He saw the weariness in your eyes, the traces of a past you rarely talked about. Taking a deep breath, he moved closer and crouched beside your chair.
"I heard about... Wonwoo," he said quietly, watching your expression carefully.
Your eyes widened, and for a moment, he saw the walls go up, the instinctive way you guarded yourself when the past came up. "Who told you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
"It doesn’t matter," Mingyu replied, his hand resting lightly on your knee. "What matters is that I know now. And I’m sorry."
You frowned, confusion flickering across your face. "Sorry for what?"
"For not understanding sooner," he said, his voice tinged with frustration—at himself, at the situation. "For not realizing why you work so hard. I thought it was just ambition, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? You were trying to prove yourself to someone who didn’t deserve you."
Your lips parted as if to argue, but the emotion in Mingyu’s gaze stopped you. He shook his head slightly.
"Don’t defend him," Mingyu said softly. "Don’t defend a man who let his family’s opinion dictate his love for you. You deserve better than that, Y/n. You always have."
Mingyu felt a lump form in his throat as he watched you, the pain in your eyes piercing through him. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on yours.
"Y/n," he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "You didn’t have to change yourself for anyone. Not for him, not for his family. They were blind if they couldn’t see how amazing you are."
You turned to him, your gaze searching his, and for a moment, Mingyu thought he saw a flicker of hope in your eyes. But then, you smiled—a sad, resigned smile.
"Maybe," you said quietly. "But it doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t enough for him."
Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, to tell you that you were more than enough, that Wonwoo’s loss was his greatest mistake. But the words caught in his throat, because deep down, he wondered if he was any different.
He squeezed your hand gently, his heart aching as he whispered, "You’re enough for me."
You didn’t respond right away, your eyes dropping to where his hand rested on yours. And though you didn’t pull away, Mingyu couldn’t shake the feeling that you were already slipping through his fingers.
It was a moment he would replay over and over in his mind, long after the breakup—wondering if he could have done more, said more, to keep you from walking away.
*
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife as you stood by the refreshment table, filling your glass with water. Mingyu was off to the side, chatting with one of the cast members, but his eyes flicked over to you every few seconds, always keeping an eye on you.
That’s when you heard the sharp click of heels against the tiled floor. You turned just in time to see Woorin storming toward you, her face a mix of anger and hurt.
"Y/n!" she snapped, her voice loud enough to make heads turn. Before you could respond, she raised her hand, and the sound of the slap echoed in the room.
You staggered back, your hand flying to your cheek in shock. Gasps erupted from the surrounding cast and crew as everyone froze, unsure of what to do.
"What the hell, Woorin?!" Mingyu's voice roared across the room as he rushed to your side, placing himself between you and Woorin. His protective stance was immediate, his broad shoulders shielding you from her.
"She deserves it!" Woorin spat, her voice trembling with rage. "Do you think I don’t know? Juyoung’s been flirting with her—my boyfriend—and she just stands there like she’s innocent!"
Mingyu’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkened with fury. "Don’t you dare blame her for your boyfriend’s behavior," he growled. "If he’s flirting with someone else, that’s on him—not her."
Before Woorin could reply, Juyoung stepped forward, his face pale but determined. "Woorin, stop this," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension. "You’re overreacting."
"Overreacting?" Woorin turned on him, her voice breaking. "You’ve been flirting with her since day one, Juyoung! Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her!"
Juyoung sighed, his frustration evident. "I haven’t been flirting with anyone! You’re making something out of nothing."
"Nothing?!" Woorin’s voice rose again. "How about the way you kept standing near her during the games, or how you laugh at everything she says? Even your friend said you couldn’t stop talking about her before the show started!"
Juyoung groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You’re twisting things, Woorin. I’m just being polite and friendly. It’s a competition—we’re supposed to interact with everyone!"
Woorin’s tears spilled over as she pointed an accusing finger at him. "Polite? Friendly? You’ve ignored me for days and acted like I don’t exist, but you have time to chat with her?!"
"Enough!" Mingyu barked, his voice sharp and commanding. "This isn’t the time or place for your relationship issues. Don’t drag Y/n into this."
Juyoung raised his hands defensively, his eyes darting between Mingyu and Woorin. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m not interested in Y/Nln that way—she’s not even my type!"
The words stung, though you weren’t sure why. You held your tongue, your cheek still throbbing from the slap, as Woorin scoffed. "Oh, now you’re backpedaling. How convenient!"
Mingyu stepped closer to Juyoung, his presence looming. "You’ve said enough," he said coldly. "If you’re not interested in her, make that clear to Woorin and leave Y/n out of your mess."
Juyoung nodded hesitantly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Fine. Woorin, can we talk about this privately?"
Woorin hesitated, her anger simmering but waning. She cast one last glare in your direction before turning on her heel and storming out, with Juyoung reluctantly following her.
The room buzzed with whispered conversations as Mingyu turned back to you, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your arms. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.
You nodded, though your cheek still stung. "I’m fine," you murmured, but your voice betrayed the slight tremble in your chest.
Mingyu frowned, his hand moving to cup your face as he examined the red mark. "She had no right to do that," he said, his tone still simmering with anger.
"I know," you replied, your eyes meeting his. "But I can’t blame her for feeling hurt. Juyoung—"
"Juyoung’s an idiot," Mingyu interrupted, his voice firm. "And so is anyone else who can’t see how incredible you are without needing to blame you for their problems."
His words struck something deep inside you, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away. Mingyu’s thumb brushed gently over your cheek, as if he could erase the sting of Woorin’s slap with his touch.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere in the studio remained tense, with everyone still recovering from the incident with Woorin and Juyoung. But it seemed like there was no end to the drama. You noticed Suji walking over to Mingyu, her movements deliberate, her laughter just a little too loud. She stood a bit too close, touching his arm as she spoke, her eyes lingering on him in a way that didn’t sit well with you. You shifted in your seat, feeling an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Minho standing off to the side, his gaze fixed on the pair. His posture was rigid, his eyes narrowed, clearly irritated by what he was seeing.
He didn't wait long before he made his way toward you, his expression serious. When he reached you, he didn't mince words. "Y/n," Minho started, his voice low but urgent. "I need to talk to you about Mingyu."
You raised an eyebrow, confused. "What about him?" you asked, glancing at Mingyu, who was still talking to Suji. His body language seemed polite, but there was a stiffness in it that made you wonder.
Minho hesitated, his eyes briefly flickering over to the pair again. "Suji," he said, his voice almost a warning. "She’s been trying to get his attention for a while now. She’s… impulsive, and honestly, I don’t think Mingyu understands how far she’ll go to get it."
You frowned, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Suji was Minho’s girlfriend. "You think Suji’s flirting with Mingyu?" you asked, feeling a mixture of concern and confusion.
Minho nodded, his voice dropping lower as he stepped closer. "She doesn’t know when to stop, and she’s not as innocent as she looks. I’m telling you this because I care about both of you, and I know Suji can be manipulative when she wants something. She’s been acting like this for a while now, and I don’t want Mingyu getting caught up in it."
You glanced at Mingyu again. Suji was still leaning in, laughing a bit too much, her fingers lingering on his arm. You couldn’t deny the tightness that curled in your chest. Was she really pushing him in that direction? Was Mingyu even aware of what was going on?
"What do you want me to do?" you asked, your voice uncertain. Minho’s warning was ringing in your head, but you weren’t sure how to handle it.
"I think you should talk to him," Minho said, his eyes filled with concern. "Suji won’t back off easily. I just don’t want Mingyu to get blindsided, especially with everything else going on."
You nodded slowly, trying to process everything Minho had just said. "I’ll talk to him. Thanks for the heads-up, Minho."
Minho gave you a brief nod, his expression softening. "Just look out for him, Y/n. I know it’s complicated, but you’re the one who can get through to him. Just… make sure he doesn’t fall for her games."
You watched him walk away, but your attention immediately went back to Mingyu and Suji. There was no denying the way Suji was behaving, and you could feel that knot tightening in your chest. You knew you had to talk to Mingyu about it, but would he listen? Would he see the situation the same way?
With a deep breath, you made up your mind. You had to have this conversation with him before it spiraled any further.
*
The drive to Mingyu's house was quiet, the usual hum of conversation replaced by the low rumble of the car's engine. The tension from the day’s events still hung in the air, and it wasn’t lost on either of you. Mingyu’s grip on the wheel tightened, his eyes focused on the road ahead.
As you approached his house, you couldn’t shake the conversation with Minho from your mind. You needed to talk to Mingyu about what had happened, especially considering how closely he and Suji had been interacting. But how could you bring it up without it sounding like you were overreacting?
Finally, as he pulled into the driveway, you broke the silence. "Mingyu," you began carefully, watching him glance at you briefly. "There’s something I need to tell you about Suji."
He raised an eyebrow as he turned off the engine, but he didn’t look entirely surprised. "What about her?" he asked, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of curiosity.
You sighed, feeling the weight of Minho’s warning pressing down on you. "Minho talked to me earlier. He said Suji’s been acting a bit too… familiar with you. Like, she’s been trying to get your attention, and he’s worried she might be more manipulative than she seems."
Mingyu’s expression shifted, though it wasn’t one of defensiveness. It was more like he was processing the information. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice a little quieter than usual. "I’ve noticed it too," he admitted. "Suji’s been a little too clingy recently. But I don’t think she means anything by it. She’s just… been really forward. I’m trying to keep things respectful, but it’s hard when she doesn’t back off."
You felt a mix of relief and frustration. On one hand, you were glad Mingyu didn’t seem completely oblivious to the situation. On the other, you didn’t want him to brush it off too easily. "I just want to make sure you’re not caught off guard, Gyu," you said, using the nickname almost instinctively. "Suji can be pretty impulsive, and she’s done this before, according to Minho. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants."
Mingyu let out a deep breath, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "I get it, Y/n. I’ll keep my distance. It’s just… hard when she’s constantly around, and I don’t want to make things awkward, you know?"
You nodded, appreciating his understanding. "Just be careful. You don’t owe her anything, and I don’t want to see you get dragged into her games."
He gave you a small smile. "Thanks for looking out for me. I promise I’ll handle it."
With that, you both stepped out of the car, walking toward the door of Mingyu’s house. As you entered, you quickly gathered the few things that had ended up in his luggage after the last shoot. You could feel Mingyu’s eyes on you, and the silence between you seemed heavier now, like there was more to be said but neither of you was quite ready to speak it.
Once you were done, you followed him into the living room where he sat on the couch, clearly still processing everything from the day. It felt like everything was slowly unraveling — the complexities with the cast, the personal dynamics, and the ever-present tension that seemed to follow you both. Mingyu’s gaze was distant, his mind clearly still processing everything. Then, without thinking, you spoke again, breaking the silence that had comfortably enveloped you.
"You know, Gyu," you started, your voice quieter than before, "I haven’t thought about Wonwoo in a long time."
Mingyu's head snapped toward you, eyes widening slightly. The mention of his name had been unexpected, a slip of your tongue. You could see the surprise in Mingyu’s face, but there was also a flicker of something else — curiosity, maybe, or perhaps something deeper.
"I mean," you continued, trying to gather your thoughts, "I know it sounds strange, but after everything… after all the mess with our past, I just realized I haven't really thought about him in a while. Like, I don't dwell on what happened anymore."
Mingyu didn’t immediately respond, his eyes focused on you now, studying your face carefully. You could tell he was trying to process this, the idea that you were finally letting go of the past.
"That’s... different," Mingyu finally said, his voice tentative. He shifted slightly on the couch, his arm brushing against yours.
"His shadow was constantly over me, even when I was with you. But now... I guess I just don’t feel it anymore. I can’t even imagine going back to him."
Mingyu didn’t speak right away, his gaze steady as if he was carefully choosing his words. His hand moved slowly, then rested on the space between you both, his fingers brushing against yours.
"I’m glad you feel that way," he said softly, his voice carrying a mix of relief and something else, something unspoken. "I think... I think I’m glad you’ve come to this point. I can’t change your past, Y/n, and I won’t try to. But I want you to know that I’m here. I’m here for you — no matter what happened with Wonwoo or anyone else."
The sincerity in his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace. It was clear, though, that Mingyu had always been there, but this was different — more honest, more grounded.
"You’ve been so patient with me, Gyu," you said, your voice catching slightly, the emotions you had been keeping at bay bubbling up. "I don’t know what I did to deserve that."
Mingyu smiled softly, his thumb gently brushing against your hand. "You don’t need to do anything, Y/n. I’m not doing this because I feel obligated or anything. I’m here because I want to be." His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
It was a shift in the air — a change that neither of you had expected. What had started as a complicated relationship, tangled with unresolved feelings and past wounds, now felt different. The emotional weight was still there, but there was a new layer to it — something that felt like it could build into something else, something neither of you had anticipated.
The quiet lingered, and the air between you both seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the steady rhythm of his breath, as if he was waiting for something. It was almost as if the universe had conspired for this moment, and you both could no longer ignore it.
Mingyu slowly leaned in, his fingers still lightly brushing against yours, and you could feel his warmth draw closer. There was an uncertainty in the way he moved, but it wasn’t hesitation. It was as if he, too, was giving you space to decide, to let you know if you were ready for this next step.
Your heart raced, and for a moment, you wondered if you should pull back, but something inside you urged you to stay. Mingyu had always been someone you could rely on, someone who, even through the ups and downs, had never wavered in his support for you. And now, in the stillness of the moment, there was only one thing you could do — let him in.
You didn’t pull away as his face inched closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. His eyes flickered to yours, searching, asking without words if you were ready. The tension between you both seemed to thicken with each passing second.
And then, as if he couldn’t wait any longer, Mingyu closed the gap, his lips pressing gently against yours. The kiss was soft at first, slow and tender, as if he were asking for permission to dive deeper into the connection between you two. His hand moved to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.
The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, felt more intense than the last. His kiss was a mixture of everything — of comfort, of longing, of a deep connection that neither of you had expected but were now willing to explore.
As the kiss deepened, you felt yourself respond instinctively, your body leaning into his, your hands resting on his chest. The warmth between you both was undeniable, and for the first time, you let go of everything else — your past, your insecurities, your doubts. In this moment, it was just Mingyu and you.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your hearts racing in sync. Mingyu rested his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.
"Y/n..." he whispered, his voice low and filled with emotion. "I’ve never stopped caring about you, you know that, right?"
You nodded, your fingers still resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I know, Gyu," you whispered back.
The air between you two thickened, the energy palpable as Mingyu’s lips returned to yours with renewed urgency. The softness that once lingered turned into something more desperate, as if all the tension between you both was finally being released in that moment. His hands slid down your sides, pulling you closer to him, and you felt every inch of his body pressing against yours.
The kiss grew heated, the warmth of his lips and the feel of his body against you making your pulse quicken. His hand rested at the small of your back, pressing you even further into him as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that left you breathless.
Mingyu’s body hovered above yours, the weight of him both comforting and thrilling. His hands roamed, tracing the curve of your waist, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin just beneath your ribcage. You gasped slightly at the touch, the sensation sending a ripple of warmth through you, and you instinctively arched into him, eager for more.
He broke away from the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked down at you, eyes darkened with desire. His gaze flickered to your lips, and then to your eyes, searching for some kind of sign — a sign that you were okay, that you were still with him in this moment.
Mingyu’s lips found yours again, but this time the kiss was deeper, more intense, filled with an intensity neither of you had expected. His hands moved to your hips, lifting you just enough for him to settle closer, his body now pressing firmly against yours. The heat between you two grew, and it was impossible to deny how much you wanted him.
His lips trailed down to your neck, his kisses burning against your skin. You shivered beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders as the heat between you two escalated. Every touch, every movement, every shared breath seemed to make everything else fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment, completely consumed by each other.
Mingyu pulled off his t-shirt in one fluid motion, and your hands instinctively reached for him, your fingers brushing against the familiar warmth of his skin. His toned muscles tensed under your touch, and for a brief moment, he paused, his darkened eyes locking with yours as though he were savoring the moment.
His hands worked with practiced ease, sliding your top over your head and unclasping your bra with the kind of confidence that only came from familiarity. His fingers brushed against your bare skin as he traced the contours of your body, a reverence in his touch that sent shivers cascading down your spine.
Leaning down, his lips brushed over your collarbone, trailing a line of slow, deliberate kisses to the swell of your chest. You gasped softly as his mouth made contact, the heat of his touch igniting something deep within you.
"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with awe and a sense of rediscovery. "You’ve always been beautiful."
With an almost effortless motion, his hands moved to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your legs in one smooth gesture, leaving only the delicate fabric of your underwear between you. His hands lingered, as though memorizing every inch of you, his gaze sweeping over you with a mix of desire and admiration.
Before you could fully process the moment, Mingyu’s strong arms scooped you up, lifting you off the couch as though you weighed nothing. The ease with which he carried you was both thrilling and grounding, his grip firm yet gentle. He held you close to his chest, his heartbeat pounding in rhythm with yours as he walked toward his bedroom.
When he reached the bed, he laid you down with care, his eyes never leaving yours. His lips claimed yours again, this time with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. His kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear.
The sensation of his touch against your most sensitive skin drew a soft moan from your lips, the sound muffled by his kiss. Every movement felt like a promise, every touch a reminder of the connection you once shared and the emotions that still lingered between you.
Mingyu pulled back just enough to look at you, his face filled with longing and tenderness. His thumb brushed against your cheek as he whispered, "Tell me if it’s too much. I need you to feel safe with me."
Your breath hitched, overwhelmed by the mix of his words and the fire igniting between you. "I trust you," you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you realized.
His lips captured yours again, his touch growing bolder yet remaining respectful of your boundaries, as though rediscovering the delicate balance between passion and care that only he seemed to know how to navigate.
As Mingyu pulled back slightly, his forehead resting gently against yours, the space between you both felt charged with a quiet intensity. His breath came in shallow bursts, and for a moment, everything was still— except for the rhythmic beat of your heart. He looked at you with micture of reverance and affection, the weight of the moment settling between you both.
"Are you sure?" He whispered, his voice soft, laced with the same desired that had filled the air. His hands were gentle, as though he was waiting forya signal from, for any hesitation or doubt.
You nodded, a silent reassurance in your gaze. There was trust there, a bond that ran deeper than anywof the words or touched that had passed between you. In that moment, you knew he would never push you further than you were ready to go.
With that he found yours once more, tender and slow, as though savoring every second of the shared intimacy. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you— silent connected and united in that moment.
*
After the show ended, you and Mingyu returned to the real world, not as winners of the grand prize but as something far more valuable — partners in both love and ambition. The cameras stopped rolling, the bright lights faded, but the bond you’d forged under their glare remained steady.
Life didn’t slow down for either of you. The buzz from the show brought a wave of attention. Companies, producers, and directors sent offers for TV appearances, brand deals, and interviews. It was tempting to ride the wave of fame, but both of you had bigger dreams.
You decided it was finally time to build the dream you’d put off for too long — your own advertising studio. With the influx of opportunities, you knew you had the leverage to pitch your ideas to major companies. Your days were filled with back-to-back meetings, portfolio revisions, and late nights spent sketching out concepts. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was yours. Every deal you closed felt like a victory. Every successful pitch fueled your belief that you were on the right path.
Mingyu’s path was equally ambitious. The show gave him visibility beyond the restaurant scene, branding him as more than just a chef or businessman — now, he was a figure people admired for his charisma and strategic mind. Invitations poured in for him to speak at business forums, guest on entrepreneurial podcasts, and even lead masterclasses for young entrepreneurs. At first, he hesitated. "I'm just a guy who wanted to make good food," he told you one night. But you reminded him, "And now you’re a guy teaching others how to dream bigger."
His growth was undeniable. His brand expanded, his restaurant saw more foot traffic than ever, and he even started mentoring up-and-coming chefs and small business owners. Seeing him lead discussions and inspire others only made you fall for him harder. He wasn’t just chasing success — he was building a legacy.
But success came with its own weight. Long hours apart, sleepless nights spent working on deadlines, and the occasional clash of schedules tested your relationship. Some nights, you’d find yourself sitting on the couch at midnight, laptop balanced on your knees, while Mingyu’s side of the bed remained empty until the early hours of the morning.
"Hey," he'd call softly from the doorway when he finally returned. He’d sit next to you, still smelling faintly of the kitchen or the cologne he wore for his TV appearance. “You should sleep.”
“Not yet,” you’d reply, eyes still on the screen.
“Then I’m staying up with you,” he’d say, wrapping an arm around you and resting his head on your shoulder. It didn’t matter how tired he was. He stayed.
You didn’t win the show’s prize, but you won each other. And in the grand scheme of things, that felt like the ultimate victory.
The second chance you gave each other wasn’t just about romance — it was about believing in your potential and supporting each other’s growth. Mingyu often joked that you were like his "favorite investment." You’d laugh, rolling your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was true.
On your one-year anniversary after the show, Mingyu surprised you by renting out a small art gallery to showcase the work of local artists — but at the center of it was a display dedicated to your journey together. Photos, clippings from interviews, and even a mock advertisement with the words “The Greatest Partnership” were displayed on a wall.
"Cheesy, right?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“Cheesy,” you admitted, eyes welling up. “But it’s perfect.”
Second chances don’t come often, but when they do, they change everything.
"Y/n, Mingyu," Jiyeon started, tilting her head with a grin. "You two are probably one of the most talked-about duos from the show. Not just for your chemistry but for what you did after. Advertising studio, business empire — it's impressive, really. But I have to ask, did either of you see this coming?"
The interviewer, a sharp-witted woman named Jiyeon, sat across from you with a notepad resting on her knee, a pen twirling between her fingers. Her smile was relaxed but knowing, like she already had her headline written.
You glanced at Mingyu, letting out a soft breath that turned into a laugh. He tilted his head toward you, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Honestly, no. We went on that show thinking, 'Okay, let's win some money, maybe get a little publicity.' But life doesn’t always work out the way you plan."
You glanced at Mingyu, eyes crinkling with affection. "Sometimes, it works out better."
“Better, huh?” Mingyu teased, nudging your arm. "She’s just being nice. We were a mess on that show."
The room filled with light laughter from the crew.
Jiyeon leaned in, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Come on, tell me the truth. The whole world saw the way you two bickered. Was it strategy, or were there… feelings?" Her gaze was pointed but playful.
You raised an eyebrow, giving her a knowing smile. "Let’s just say it wasn’t strategy."
Mingyu let out a low laugh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "There were feelings. A lot of them. I think at one point, I didn’t know if I wanted to win the challenge or just win an argument with her." He glanced at you, his grin softening. "Turns out, I wanted both."
Your eyes flicked to him, heart squeezing in your chest. The air around you grew a little quieter, more intimate, and Jiyeon caught it instantly.
“Power couple energy,” she said, grinning as she scribbled something in her notes. "But speaking of power, I have to say, you two are the definition of 'fake it till you make it.' Advertising studio, business brand, guest speaking gigs — you’ve built something big. What’s the secret?"
Mingyu scratched the back of his neck, his classic "I'm about to sound wise" move. “For me, it’s realizing that everyone’s faking it,” he said, his voice casual but firm. "No one has it all figured out, and once I accepted that, I stopped stressing so much about looking like I did. I just acted like I belonged, kept showing up, and one day, I realized — oh, I actually do belong here now."
The crew murmured their approval, a few heads nodding.
You nodded along with them, picking up where he left off. “For me, 'faking it' meant trusting that my ideas were good, even if I wasn’t sure. I pitched my first concept to a company with zero experience behind me, but I talked like I’d done it a hundred times. It’s scary, but sometimes, you have to believe in yourself before anyone else will.”
"That’s good," Jiyeon said, pointing at both of you with her pen. "I’m stealing that for the headline. Alright, last question before we wrap this up." She flipped through her notes, eyes scanning until she found something. Her gaze lifted with a spark of mischief. "Actually, I lied. I have one more thing before we finish."
You glanced at Mingyu, suspicious. "What do you mean, 'one more thing'?"
Jiyeon smiled like she’d been sitting on a secret all day. "Well, Mingyu told our team earlier that he had a little surprise planned for you."
Your eyes darted to him, your brow furrowed. "A surprise?"
Mingyu leaned back against the couch, arms stretched along the backrest, looking far too calm for someone who was clearly up to something. “Yeah,” he said, lips twitching like he was holding back a grin. "Figured now’s a good time."
You stared at him, heart starting to pick up its pace. "Kim Mingyu, if you’re about to prank me in front of all these people—"
He shook his head, grinning like an idiot now. "Nah, not a prank. I promise."
Then, casually — too casually — he reached into the inside pocket of his blazer. Your eyes tracked his hand, and for a second, you didn’t register what you were seeing. A small, velvet box.
Your breath hitched.
“No way,” you muttered, eyes widening as your hands shot up to cover your face.
The entire room gasped, someone behind the camera whispering, “Oh my God.”
Mingyu shifted forward, already on one knee, and suddenly, the world became a soft hum around you. It felt like the lights dimmed, the cameras faded away, and the only thing you could focus on was him.
He looked up at you, his grin now gone, replaced by something raw and steady. His fingers flipped the box open, revealing a simple but breathtaking ring.
“Y/n,” he started, voice low but clear. His eyes didn’t waver once from yours. “I’ve done a lot of big things in my life — joined a show, started a business, made decisions I wasn’t sure about. But you…” He exhaled, his smile small but full of certainty. "You’re the only decision I’ve never doubted. You make everything feel possible. You make me feel possible."
Tears gathered in your eyes, one slipping down your cheek before you could stop it. You didn’t care.
“I’m not gonna do the whole ‘I can’t live without you’ speech,” he went on, eyes crinkling as he fought back his own grin. "Because I can live without you. I just really, really, really don’t want to." His voice broke just a little, and he cleared his throat.
Your chest tightened, and your hands covered your face again.
“So, I’m done waiting,” he said, eyes locked on yours with all the love in the world. “Marry me, Y/n. Be my partner for real this time.”
Silence. You could hear the click of a camera.
But none of that mattered.
You nodded, pulling your hands away from your face as tears spilled freely. "Yes," you choked out, voice trembling as a laugh escaped with it. "Yes, absolutely yes."
He let out a breath of relief, a wide, boyish grin spreading across his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, like it had always been meant to be there.
When he stood, you barely had time to think before you threw your arms around him. His arms wrapped around you instantly, his hand cradling the back of your head as he laughed into your shoulder.
“You didn’t cry this much when we lost the show,” he teased, his voice rough but filled with affection.
“Shut up,” you mumbled into his neck, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.
The crew erupted into cheers, the sound of applause and whistles filling the room. Cameras flashed as photographers captured every second, but you didn’t care about the cameras. You pulled back just enough to look at him, still teary-eyed but grinning like a fool.
“Power couple, huh?” you said, sniffling as you wiped your cheeks.
Mingyu smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. "Yeah," he whispered, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Power couple forever.”
Jiyeon sniffled loudly, wiping under her eyes with her sleeve. "Okay, I did not come here to cry at work," she muttered, waving at the camera crew to cut the recording. "But you two are officially my favorite couple ever."
“Thank you,” you said, voice still wobbly but full of joy.
Mingyu kissed your temple, his arm never once letting you go.
No cash prize, no reality show win, but somehow, you’d still won everything.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios#seventeen series#seventeen drabbles#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#mingyu imagines#seventeen oneshot#seventeen mingyu#mingyu fanfic#mingyu oneshot#mingyu scenarios#mingyu fluff#mingyu x reader#mingyu angst#mingyu smut#mingyu au#mingyu recs#mingyu imagine#mingyu fic
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Happy two months anniversary to Zhuo Yichen & Li Lun sex scene choke episode!
I wish I could say I was exaggerating or joking when I describe episode 23 of Fangs of Fortune as a sex scene between Zhuo Yichen and Li Lun.
And yet.
No other moment in the series comes close to the sheer intimacy and strange sexual tension of the brutal, unapologetic beating Li Lun puts Zhuo Yichen through.
You’re filled with worry, awe, and guilty excitement as you watch it all unfold; they ensure that hurricane of conflicting emotions sets in motion inside your tight chest because they build it up almost the same way cdramas build up their kissing scenes sex scenes.
To truly appreciate the beauty of episode 23, we need to revisit episodes 6, 16, and 19. Each of these episodes offers an attempt at a fight just the tip and a promise.
"But first, I need to kill you, an even more evil thing."
"I choose for you to die."
Our precious rabid puppy Zhuo Yichen never misses a chance to jump Li Lun like his life depends on it (perhaps it does). He has so much tempter, especially when it comes to Li Lun. Meanwhile, our precious Li Lun meets that aggression with… well?
In episode 6, Li Lun never truly fights Zhuo Yichen. Instead, he uses Ran Yi as both his blade and his shield before happily escaping, leaving everyone in shambles.
In episode 16, Li Lun mostly dodges Zhuo Yichen’s attacks. First, he stops Zhuo Yichen’s sword with just his fingers, then he seems determined to kill Pei Sijing right on the spot until Zhuo Yichen joins the fight to protect her. Li Lun’s usual cold and calm rage shifts into a cheeky smile, and another flirtatious promise leaps from his tongue.
"Zhuo Yichen, don’t forget. At the final moment, your Cloud Light Sword can kill him."
In episode 19… I have so much to say about this episode, actually, but almost none of it involves Zhuo Yichen and Li Lun. That said, I really enjoy Zhuo Yichen’s decision to stay after casting a glance at Li Lun’s domineering presence.
I just think they’re very pretty, look at them.
Zhu Yan and Zhuo Yichen barely let Li Lun breathe. Attack after attack, and yet none of the blades directed at him hurt as much as the words that pierce his heart. Zhu Yan sets Li Lun on fire again—normal people things—and the last words Li Lun utters before forever losing the human form he developed are a desperate promise and a plea.
"You will kill him one day. Kill Zhao Yuanzhou."
(Quick off topic, I love how troubled Zhuo Yichen looks when he learns about Li Lun literally burning alive, lol)
All those beautiful moments leading up to episode 23 shows us that Li Lun never wanted to kill or hurt Zhuo Yichen. He wanted Zhuo Yichen. As his companion in revenge against the one person who hurt them both.
Then episode 23 happens.
For happy shippers like myself, it literally starts with Wen Xiao losing her shit over Li Lun possessing Zhuo Yichen, with Li Lun's theme playing during Zhuo Yichen's entrance, and with Tian Jiarui speaking in the voice that Yan An is using for Li Lun. Truly a feast! But that’s not what we’re discussing here.
That damn fight, that damn sex scene.
The only way for me to describe it, it's so personal, and they don’t even know each other long enough to be personal.
Li Lun promises to Zhuo Yichen while also taunting him, so annoyed by this loud human screaming for Bai Jiu. Makes sure Zhuo Yichen knows it’s him, Li Lun who is s pinning him down into the ground, towering over his body, topping him, with hand on his throat.
"So noisy. Look closely. I'm not your Xiao Jiu. I'm Li Lun."
What the hell do I know about whether it was a spiteful remark, mirroring Zhuo Yichen’s promises, mocking him, provoking him, or if it was Li Lun’s cold and calm rage speaking, a grievance and pain within him, because this human he had been nothing but kind to dared to help Zhu Yan set him on fire again. Perhaps it was both; perhaps he meant it; perhaps he changed his mind later in the episode and refused to kill unconscious Zhuo Yichen, walking off and letting fate decide whether Zhuo Yichen lives. Perhaps he didn't, simply wanted Zhuo Yichen alive. (*turns him into a demon <3 bc fate can go and fuck itself i guess, Li Lun is fate.*)
The second Truth Eyes hit Zhuo Yichen’s, round, big, and determined eyes, he jumps Li Lun again like a rabid puppy, not a single fuck given about the simplest of truths that if he hurt’s Li Lun, he will hurt Xiao Jiu.
I cannot lie here. Despite my heart ripping itself apart for Zhuo Yichen, when his dearest friend, his dearest light, his dearest Cloud Light Sword gets broken—over and over again on each rewatch—there’s something so satisfying about watching Li Lun take this fight more seriously than in any of their previous encounters.
It is a gesture of goodwill to keep Zhuo Yichen alive. All those times before. This time? He will show this human his place, and make his pants creamy.
Li Lun not only physically tortures Zhuo Yichen but also psychologically when he breaks Cloud Light Sword in half with needles Bai Jiu carries around (Wouldn’t it be fun if those needles remained from the time when Bai Jiu was supposed to seal Zhu Yan’s touch?)
They're so gorgeous, what the hell?
What a fun human to toy with.
My thoughts get way too explicit after this, and I genuinely can’t find any heterosexual explanation for this.
I see your vision, insane director.
Make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face.
I guess Li Lun likes to take Zhuo Yichen from behind.
and watch him struggle at the mercy of his hands as Zhuo Yichen desperately grabs onto them, while Li Lun is unable to resist looking at that unfairly pretty face, luxuriating in every change of emotion he chokes out of him. How beautiful Zhuo Yichen looks then, fighting for his and his dearest friend's life?
What sound does that divine statue make being knocked down, trampled, and trapped in dust? This desperate, fun human, will he get himself up? For his friend that believes in him, trusts him?
"Don't waste your effort. My inner core has been inside Bai Jiu's body for many days. My soul has already solidified, making it much stronger than Bai Jiu's. His soul is nothing but a weak ant compared to mine, which can be easily crushed by me."
I guess Li Lun, then, likes to turn all of Zhuo Yichen to look at his face, again; to have Zhuo Yichen look at him. So Zhuo Yichen comes knowing exactly who fucked him, or whatever Li Lun promised him earlier.
Listen.
There's a BTS clip of that iconic shot: of Li Lun hiding from those big, round, unyielding, and unafraid eyes by covering Zhuo Yichen's face with his giant hand, eclipsing the light; of Zhuo Yichen biting him, we all know it. And all I can do is wildly gesture at it, at their hands, and rest my case here.
I love Zhuo Yichen and Bai Jiu both biting into the wood to free themselves too much to not mention it again.
That hopeless wish to save Bai Jiu is the only thing that keeps encouraging Zhuo Yichen to fight against that demonic strength, that so very human body.
"Give Xiao Jiu back to me!"
"No. <3"
Humans and ants and divine statues are so amusing when they try to stand up as you crush them.
Letting Zhuo Yichen pierce his heart wasn’t even remotely part of Li Lun’s plans. What’s really fun to me here is disbelief and shock on both their faces. One offended, confused, and "How dare you kick Miette? Jail!"; the other confused, unwavering, hopeful.
By episode 23, have surely learned two things that cannot be argued with:
If you bite Li Lun, he will bite harder.
Li Lun doesn't want Zhuo Yichen dead.
That punch in the throat made me audibly gasp the first time I watched this episode. Then I held my breath and released a relieved sigh. Li Lun was satisfied with simply toying with that awfully loyal and fascinating human. Perhaps all Li Lun ever wanted from that fight was a chance to touch that divine statue.
Obviously, I must remind you that the sex scene fight between Zhuo Yichen and Li Lun, unfolds as Wen Xiao and Zhao Yuanzhou share their own adorable almost-kiss scene, full of 300 years of yearning. Just saying, FoF is a perfect C-drama formula with a main couple and a second couple.
Cannot wait for insane director to make some bitter and hilarious references, much like how he ridiculed those supporting Gong Shangjue and Shangguan Qian by making a satire on them in Fangs of Fortune. But this time in Veil of Shadows.
GJM kicks his feet and giggles like Wang Xingyue as he makes Yan An and Tian Jiarui hold hands on the set of Veil of Shadows. His ship has sailed.
And so has mine.
Happy lunchen sex scene day, yay!
#fangs of fortune#li lun#zhuo yichen#zhuo yichen and li lun you will always be famous.#perfect cdrama couples formula insane director likes#If I'm wrong you can come and call me an idiot I will take my L.
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Bun in the oven
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where Noel and the reader announce to Liam that he's gonna be an uncle.
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You were perched on the couch in Liam's house next to Noel, who had one arm slung lazily over the backrest, fingers idly brushing your shoulder. The two of you exchanged a look—half excited, half nervous—before Noel leaned in and murmured, “Y’ready for this?”
“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, nudging his knee. “He’s going to take the piss, isn’t he?”
“Undoubtedly,” Noel muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But we’ll get through it.”
Liam’s voice echoed down the hall as he shouted something indistinct about finding some “mint beers” he’d been saving. Moments later, he strolled in, triumphant, three bottles in hand.
“Right,” he said, plunking the beers down on the table and cracking one open. “One for you, one for you, and—” His brow furrowed when you held up a hand, shaking your head.
“Can’t, sorry.” you said, trying to keep your tone casual.
Liam froze, bottle halfway to you. “Eh? What d’you mean, can’t? It’s beer. Beer’s god's apology for makin' us self-aware.”
You glanced at Noel, who snorted into his drink before setting it down. “She means,” he started, voice laced with sarcasm, “she can’t have a beer ‘cause there’s a bun in the oven.”
Liam blinked at him, clearly confused. “A bun in the—what, you’ve taken up baking or summat? You? Never in a million years—”
“No, you div,” Noel interrupted, rolling his eyes. “She’s pregnant.”
The words hung in the air for a moment, and you watched as Liam’s face shifted through a series of expressions.
“Shut up,” he said, pointing a finger between the two of you, a grin breaking wide across his face. “Yer havin’ a baby? Like, proper? I’m gonna be an uncle?”
“Proper,” Noel confirmed, leaning back and crossing his arms with a smug look. “Congratulations, Uncle Liam.”
“Bloody hell,” Liam said, setting his beer down before throwing his arms around Noel. “I can’t believe it! Little Gallagher runnin’ around, eh? This is mad.”
Noel stiffened at first but softened, patting his brother on the back. “Yeah, mad’s one way of puttin’ it.”
Liam then turned to you, pulling you into a tight hug—but not before hesitating, his hands hovering awkwardly near your arms like you were made of glass. “You alright? Everythin’ good? I don’t wanna squish ya love.”
You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. “Liam, it’s early days. You’re not going to squish me.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, pulling back slightly but still beaming, “can’t be too careful, can I? Gotta look after the little bean. Or whatever it is.”
“It’s not even the size of a bean yet,” Noel interjected with a laugh, but there was no mistaking the affection in his tone.
Liam ignored him, looking at you with wide, almost childlike excitement. “D’you reckon it’s a boy or a girl? Have ya thought about names yet? Oh, mate,” he added, turning to Noel, “we gotta teach ‘em all the good stuff. Football, proper tunes—none of that shite they play on the radio now—”
“Let’s get through the next few months first, yeah?” you said, grinning.
Liam plopped down on the couch beside you, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is brilliant. Honestly, I’m made up for you both.”
He glanced at Noel, then back at you. “You lot are gonna smash it.”
“Cheers.” Noel muttered, though his tone carried that slight wariness he always had when his brother was too nice for suspiciously too long.
Liam leaned back, one arm casually slung over the couch. “Right, but let’s not forget who’s really gonna make this kid’s life a laugh, yeah? Uncle Liam. Gonna be the one showin’ it the ropes, teachin’ it the important stuff. Like how not to take after its dad.”
“Oi,” Noel barked, narrowing his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Means you’re boring, our kid. Imagine this poor little bugger growin’ up listenin’ to you ramble on about vinyl pressings and guitar tunings.” Liam grinned mischievously. “But don’t worry, I’ll balance it out with some proper fun. You’re welcome.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into Noel as his hand moved to rest protectively on your knee. “You’ll probably just teach it how to wind everyone up.” you teased.
“Exactly,” Liam said with mock sincerity. “That’s a life skill, that.”
Noel rolled his eyes. “Don’t go gettin’ any ideas. I’m not havin’ you corrupt the kid before it even knows how to talk.”
Liam feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “Corrupt? Me? Nah, I’ll just be there to keep things interesting. And while we’re at it…” His smirk returned, full force. “If it’s a lad, Liam’s got a nice ring to it, don’t ya think?”
You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “You really think Noel’s gonna let you have that one?”
Noel scoffed. “Not a chance. The kid’d never live it down.”
“Oi, don’t knock it,” Liam said, wagging a finger at him. “Liam Gallagher Junior’s got a nice bit of charm to it. Better than Noel Junior, imagine the poor kid havin’ to walk around with that.”
“I’ll have you know Noel’s a solid name,” Noel shot back, though there was a spark of humor in his eyes. “It’s classy.”
“It’s old-fashioned,” Liam countered, leaning forward. “No offense, mate, but if you want this kid to have any street cred, you might wanna leave the name-pickin’ to me.”
You couldn’t stop laughing at their bickering. “Alright, alright,” you said, raising your hands. “How about we just call the kid Noel Liam Gallagher? Settles it, doesn’t it?”
Liam’s grin was instant. “Now we’re talkin’. Rolls right off the tongue, that.”
Noel groaned. “Don’t encourage him, love. Whose side are you on here?”
You just laughed, slowly leaning against him.
“Typical,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched.
Liam leaned back again, clearly satisfied with himself. “Well, whoever picks the name, just know I’m gonna be the favorite, yeah? Uncle Liam’s got this one in the bag.”
You glanced at Noel, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “This is gonna be one spoiled kid.” you said, resting a hand on your stomach.
“Yeah,” Noel muttered, squeezing your knee gently. “But they’ll be loved, and that’s what matters.”
Liam just raised his drink towards you two. “To the kid. Lucky little bugger, gettin’ to have me around.”
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cute little scribble to get back down from yesterday's filth xx
might do summat more today, since I have the time and will (and a couple of Noel smut requests are lookin' at me nicely. Genuinely so so so excited to write all these requests I'm seeing xx)
and proper thanks to @tashi-3 for the request !!
#oasis x reader#oasis one shots#oasis band#britpop x f!reader#britpop x reader#britpop fanfiction#noel gallagher x reader#noel gallagher x you#noel gallagher x f!reader#noel gallagher fanfiction#noel gallagher x y/n
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@alexxuun I have a start...
“Jayce, my boy. Please, sit down!” Heimerdinger motions to the chair opposite his desk as he hops up the steps to sit on his own chair, boosted significantly so that he can talk to humanoids sitting across from him eye-to-eye. His poro chirrups and skitters around Jayce's feet excitedly.
Jayce reaches down and pets the creature as he sits. “Of course. You asked to see me, Professor?”
“Yes, yes. It is about the most recent test. Yo-”
“You flunked it,” comes an annoyed, accented voice from Jayce's right and he nearly jumps out of his skin from the shock of it.
There is a small couch at the far end of the room, which is mostly in shadow given the angle of the late afternoon sun coming in through the window. And on it lounges the very reason Jayce has seen his grades in the class drop precipitously…
“Viktor!” Heimerdinger scolds affectionately, minorly affronted at the brusque approach of his graduate assistant. “No need to-”
“Yes. Need to,” Viktor interrupts their professor again, grabbing the test from the edge of Heimerdinger’s desk and shaking it as he limps over to Jayce without his cane. “Your score on this test is not consistent with the quality of your work from the first half of the course. And you have been working extra with the study group–I have been there to see it! So the only conclusion I can come to is that you are no longer taking this seriously and–”
“Enough!” Heimerdinger doesn't exactly yell, but his voice slices through the air between his two students as deftly as any blade. “What Viktor is trying to convey,” and here the yordle gives his assistant a glare that could peel paint off walls, which actually makes the grad student blush and look a little sheepish, “is that we’re worried about you, Jayce.”
Jayce looks from his professor to Viktor and back. We?
Further, he is acutely aware of how close his and Viktor's legs are to touching now that the TA is propping himself up on the edge of the desk. Jayce looks down and sighs. “Yeah, I know. I have…”
spent all my brain power thinking homoerotic thoughts about the professor's assistant who has decided to attend almost all of the past month of classes
“...been…”
been too busy concentrating on hiding my feral attraction to the genius grad student helping me fumble through my work to remember anything I am learning
“...distracted. As of late.”
Viktor crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Jayce, unconvinced. “Well un-distract yourself. Quickly. This is content essential to your fields of interest…” wait, he knows what I am interested in? “...and you are too brilliant of an engineer t-”
Jayce's head snaps up and he boggles at Viktor, jaw hanging open and eyes no doubt as wide as saucers. Brilliant?
A painfully attractive blush blooms on Viktor's stark cheekbones as his mouth clicks shut. There is a moment of silence where it is just them, eyes locked together, and Jayce swears that Viktor's pupils dilate.
Then Heimerdinger blunders on, unaware of the crisis happening right in front of him. “Quite right! You are far too promising to have you not pass this class. It would prevent you from skipping ahead and entering the graduate seminar next semester and really digging into your research. I remember when I…”
The professor’s voice fades to a background drone as they maintain eye contact. Jayce picks his jaw back up off the ground and closes his mouth, licking his lips when he does, and fuck he is pretty sure Viktor looked down to track the motion.
Jayce is totally fucked up over Viktor. Daydreaming about wildly inappropriate things Viktor could do to him with those elegant fingers all through class kind of fucked up. Can barely make it through one of the assistant’s extra recitations without coming in his pants, forget not getting hard as hell, kind of fucked up. Drop to his knees right now and press his face into Viktor's groin and plead to be allowed to suck his cock kind of fucked up. Go down on all fours and serve as a place to rest Viktor's bad leg kind of fucked up. ‘Would you like to be called Sir or Master?’ kind of fucked up.
Some of that insanity must show on Jayce's face because he unfolds his arms to grip the edge of the desk and uncrosses his ankles so he can stand with his knees further apart. Jayce traces down Viktor's body with his eyes, lingering on what might be the start of a bulge beneath his trousers oh god.
“...right, Viktor?” Viktor startles and looks back to his mentor. “You thought Jayce should start individualized tutoring immediately, yes? I am sure one of the other students in our lab could-”
“No, I’ll do it,” Viktor says, quick and, if Jayce didn't know any better, eager. That thought makes Jayce feel like he might burst into flames. “I can't continue working until we get the next samples of stone from Demacia, which won't be for another two weeks.”
“Oh! Well that works out perfectly then!” The bells from the Academy tower choose that moment to chime the hour. “Ohhh, fargle and bargle, I’m late!” Heimerdinger takes the steps to the floor two at a time and starts shuffling out the door. “I’ll just leave you two to make arrangements then. Good luck!” His poro yips and yaps happily as it follows behind him.
Jayce looks at the door until the sounds of the professor and his pet fade. Then he takes a deep breath and turns back to Viktor.
Viktor, whose gaze has darkened and who is looking at Jayce with an undeniable hunger. “So,” his smirk curls into something wicked, “what might we do to help you overcome this distraction that has plagued you in the lecture hall?” He slides along the edge of the desk until their calves are touching, running his good leg along Jayce's from knee to ankle. “Do you actually need remedial lessons? Or do you just need the opportunity to take your assessment without me in the room?”
Nothing could have prepared Jayce for Viktor being so forward. He isn't sad about it, to be clear; it cuts through a lot of bullshit and for that Jayce is grateful. It is refreshing. “Honestly?” Jayce looks up to the other man and softens his expression, risking that it might come off as too goofily adoring. “I can't think straight when we're in the same room.”
Viktor's head tilts to the side and his eyes glitter like prisms in sunlight. He is gorgeous. “I certainly hope your thoughts about me aren’t straight.”
That breaks the last of the tension in the room and Jayce laughs, running a hand over his face to try to wipe away the giddiness he feels from knowing his interest is reciprocated. He is delighted by this playful side of Viktor, something he has only seen before in small flashes. “No, they definitely are not.” They smile at each other and the mutual attraction simmers between them, alive and electric. “Come on,” Jayce tilts his head towards the door as he stands. “I haven’t had lunch yet. And you apparently don’t have any research to do for a few weeks. Come with me to get a bite to eat? Or a coffee?”
“Alright. Let me just-” Jayce is across the room in three strides, grabbing Viktor’s cane and handing it to him. Of all things, this makes Viktor really blush. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“You’re welcome.” Jayce stuffs his hands in his pockets before he does something stupid like reach out to lace Viktor’s fingers with his own. “I was thinking the cafe down by Kingswood and Copper Lane… it’s not too far.”
Jayvik Academy au where jayce is taking Heimerdinger’s class and a certain assistant start attending to help out the student, sometimes even taking over to teach classes for the professor. Jayce… can’t focus in class for some reason and ended up needing to ask for help after class… from the man who distracted him in the first place.
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thinking about this idea again. got some more concepts for y'all.
the story would be from an outsiders pov, im ranchers forever so I'm thinking jimmy, but scar and tango have the strongest most codependent independent relationship alive. jimmy is in a party a la DND, he's a magic user of some sort, also in his party is Joel, Lizzie, and grian.
also this gets long so rest is below the cut
Jimmy and the party hear about these shopkeepers who hold the most unique wares you'll ever find. Ideas created by both, engineered by one, usually sold by the other. The shopkeepers are a little off though, so keep your wits about you.
They need some unique weapons/tools for fighting some big bad, so they hit up the shop.
It's dim, hazy, drapes of crimson fabric strewn across the walls. It's unclear what covers a doorway and what covers a wall. Wayward light ignites gold decals, polished to the nines. the party creeps in, grian in the lead because jimmy pushed for checking out the shop but got nervous at the door.
"welcome!" a drawling voice echoes from seemingly everywhere. a man (?) swooshes through fabric. He's dressed like he's a part of the shop, or maybe that the shop is a part of him. He introduces himself as scar, and his teeth and ears are too sharp to be human. His eyes have grey-blue sclera like a vex, but his skin is pink like a red-blooded creature. True to his name, his visible skin is coated in scars - any other identifiable features are hidden beneath his beautiful, expensive-looking garb.
Grian loves a challenge, so he immediately banters it up with scar. The adventurers explore the shop, seeing all sorts of bits and bobs they never imagined, and leave with these weird grenades that grian is just buzzing to try out. Scar does his best to sell them on some dyed glass he insists are crystals, but none of them bite.
It becomes a habit to visit the shop whenever they're in town. They ask the locals about them, because who wouldn't, and only gain more questions from it. The second owner rarely makes appearances, but not for fear of strangers; he just spends all of his time making things, including countless farms that supply the locals with stuff like cobwebs or paper. The local seamstress is trying to make spider-silk clothing.
However, on the off chance that the second owner DOES appear (a fiery man-shaped creature named tango), you should buy something. He's AWFUL at bartering, which usually will leave the customer with the better deal, but he'll also talk your ear off about the knickknacks. The townsfolk joke that it's a trade of hours of their time for a random free gadget. He also swears by the "crystals", and wears an orange one strung around his neck.
It takes months, but one visit they enter the shop and there's a not-man sitting on the counter. Fire wafts from his head, the backs of his hands, and the tops of his feet. The rest of his body looks fuzzy at the edges. He wears open sandals, loose, draping clothing, and has bare arms. Despite the fire, nothing around him ignites. Scar frequently nudges into his space and remains burn-free. His clothing doesn't have a scorch mark on them.
"Friends!" Scar greets, which makes grian pout, because grian enjoys the attempt to startle scar every time they visit.
The man is introduced as tango, which the party recall is the name the townsfolk mentioned. Jimmy is immediately entranced. Tango is a veritable firework, beaming and giggling, snarking at scar without faltering on the gears between his hands.
Joel asks the tactless, "what are you?" which just makes tango and scar laugh and laugh and laugh. They don't answer, but the others don't realize this until several hours later.
The two arent always open. But the party grows close enough with them that they've seen the two outside of the shop, but it's rare. They're like wisps, or ghosts tethered to a location. It can be easy to forget their abnormal bits when scar stumbles and knocks over an entire rack of potions, or when tango loses a dice game against Joel and makes a sputtering human groan. But then scar will twitch just so, and tango will still and cock his head, and the party remembers.
At one point the big bad that the party is helping take out sets it's sights on the shop's city. Many evacuate, tango and scar with them. The adventurers meet with them as they're packing, worried about their friends. Will they have a safe place to go? Are they okay, leaving their life's work behind like this? Can the party help in any way?
Scar reassures them that they'll be fine. It's not the first time they've moved about. "It's not like we sprouted from the bedrock here!" He's joking, but the others hadn't been sure if tango and scar weren't, like, some nature spirits of the area.
Tango, lugging a chest far too heavy for his frame, huffs and puffs into view. Jimmy rushes over to help - tango thanks him, patting him on the arm, and jimmy glows. Tango adds, "we'll be fine, we're going to the deep dark."
The big bad was clunky and loud, so it would get the attention of every warden for miles. Even it couldn't handle a swarm of wardens.
This information made the party even more nervous, to which scar and tango laughed. This is when they learned that tango manned a game that reached the depths, a gauntlet that caused death, or great riches if you made it out alive.
The adventurers had heard of decked out from their mutual friend pearl, but it was a horrific dungeon, to them. What crazy person would dive into a den of ravagers and wardens, armor and item-less, just for the glory of it all?
Scar added that he just loved playing, even though he died to good ol' dunga dunga dunga every other run. The two bid them all farewell, while the party reeled and tried to process that scar died. regularly. and he was still here.
So, no, the two weren't normal. They could communicate with merely a glance. Their smiles stretched too wide sometimes, and the party swore their eyes glowed in the dark.
Their shop was filled with copper gears, oxidized and not; occasionally they coated it in blood-red drapes, to "shake things up". Tango makes it too dim, scar makes it too bright. They have differing personalities but can look like twins in the way they react to things.
Just. Scar and tango cryptids. Owning a shop together. Weirding out adventurers.
#idk their ship name bleh#ik this has ranchers but its like . scar and tango are bonded deeper than anything#scar and tango have twin souls. jimmy and tango get into a romantic relationship. they r not the same#but they r both still present !#something somthing relationships r complex webs#i LOVE this au. ruminating on this vibe#brought to you by scar saying 'is that tang tang?' when tango goes to frogger in one of his hc episodes#scar and tango are so so special to me. if u guys have any scartango video recs send them my way please please please
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I'm just a girl standing in front of the Elena of Avalor S3 timeline begging for it to make even a little logical sense.
#elena of avalor#honestly the only way it does is if we assume that the various avaloran holidays take place in radically different months#than their real-world counterparts#like if we assume that carnaval matches its real world equivalent#"the magic within' takes place in feb-march#but the very next episode is the final dias de los muertos one#which by real world standards is beginning of november#so you're telling me that after the massive fallout of carnaval; absolutely nothing happened for like 7-10 months(!)#and then pretty much all of the next few important episodes happen b/w Nov and Dec (assuming hannukah is also at its real world time)#so like elena spends an intense period of like 1-2 months being just completely fixated on esteban#(i mean girl; same but come on)#after having spent like nearly a year forgetting he even exists?#and then has her nice little winter holiday break#and forgets about him for a month or two in between#only to just suddenly without much logical reason just become obsessed w/ him and ash again for an ep or two#and then forgets about him again#because the plot demands it#i mean like tbf all the flores cousins read to me as neurodivergent to some degree#so i guess it makes a little sense that she'd fall in and out of hyperfocus and get distracted by other fun things#but like i feel like the situation is a bit more intense/important/demanding than just a regular special interest waxing and waning a bit#i mean the real answer is that at least some of the filler episodes were aired waaaayyy out of order#maybe we're meant to see carnaval as not actual carnaval time? but like a big random party in like july or aug??#so like elena still ignores the plot for way too long but at least its like less than 6 months and not more#and it is making plotting s3 era fic very very hard#since it's very tricky to find the right spot to set things
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resignation letter is the most potent painkiller. i love you resignation letter i love you one month notice <3
#tmi but im regular again and literally the only change is because i've been eating enough to shit daily#i was in such a bad headspace these past few months that i could barely bring myself to eat#i'd go to sleep with my work uniform still on and wake up willing myself to get up for 30 mins and then brushing my teeth and going to work#with the same clothes i slept in#i stopped hanging out with my friends. i had nightmares abt my job.#i can only take care of myself on my days' off and i cant grok anything other than shallow entertainment like wrestling#everything else is too much for my brain to handle. i'd simply forget everything i read or play or even listen to#those three months are miserable lmao#its not just my job... its also the family issues i've been dealing with#yknow remember when i said i could have died? yeah that shit was real. fuckin love it when my mom admit my dad have the capacity to be a#family annihilator. but... since my dad have a job to keep him busy and we moved to a house where me and my sister and#my mom and dad get to have our own rooms... and my dad get to live near his old friends and family...#things have been getting better. usually we had a physical fight every two months but it hasnt happened yet and i seem to get on with him#better now. so... i guess im gonna be okay. i've been so tired and trapped#stuck between two places that are both physically and emotionally draining with no reprieve#things are changing. and i find that to be comforting despite how up in the air the future might be. i might be screwed but also? what if#i'll be fine? im at a point where im accepting any drastic changes even if its for the worse#funny how i used to like my job a lot. i guess im not to be comfortable with anything long term#posts about my life
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Honestly I forgot to come back to this. Also I'm not gonna do 9 months I'll do the 6 months between 4.5 and 5th when we get there though bc that should be p easy. Anyway. I was right about Toya/Kohane for Toya5. Len was a surprise but good to see him back from the war I guess.
Obviously there's now that thing about two mixed events a month until 4.5, so now we're speccing that. Len has to be a limited card on either vday or wday. He already has a wday card (the only seasonal event which seems strict about not repeating characters due to AU reasons), but him being on Toya5 significantly lowers his chances of a vday lim. Also here's a list of characters who don't have vday cards:
We can immediately rule out An, Akito, and KAITO for 4*s, since they just got lims. Out of characters with connections, we have Tsukasa and Mizuki (though this repeats kamikou fes and is similar to wday1), Mizuki and Rui (repeat of cheerfes), Minori and Mizuki, Minori and Shiho (though they have an event), or Minori and Tsukasa. You could maybe get away with Tsukasa and Shizuku, though they have already had a couple events together.
Minori and Mizuki come up the most, and are two of my top picks. If we went with Mizuki/Minori/Len (either mmj or n25), we would have to make Mizuki the banner card since Minori already has her third mixed. My only concern with this is that Mizuki had a lim fairly recently, and there's characters who need ones pretty soon. N25 does need 3rd mixed banners though, since they currently have 0. That leads me to option 2: Tsukasa/Minori/Len(mmj). Tsukasa's last lim was at 3.5, and wxs golden week hakolim is off the table now, so either wxs has a hakolim in june or he gets one here or at 4.5. Also he hasn't had a 4* since September, and the next WxS event probably won't feature him on rateup. The other option is to do Tsukasa/Mizuki/Minori. You could always swap out Mizuki for Mafuyu, since she really needs a 4*.
(i keep forgetting enstars collab gacha is about a week after this one but i'm not rewriting the entire paragraph. also collab cards aren't counted as lims it'd be really fucking funny if they did the same as with tsukasa wle->fes1 being within a week of each other. anyway ignore tsukasa here. mizuki/minori/len for now and tsukasa on 4.5)
As for the perm mixed, as usual it's very hard to guess. I do think a N25 banner is very likely though, especially if vday ends up being a Tsukasa banner. Again, Mafuyu really needs a 4* and won't be on Kanade5, so she's likely here. Other than that it's the same again with Tsukasa needing a 4*. Haruka also hasn't had a 4* for as long as Tsukasa has, and I don't think the next mmj event will be for a few months, so she has to get a card on a perm mixed event before then (Kanade is actually the character whose last 4* was longest ago, but her next event is probably next month). Currently leaning on Mafuyu banner for this, but not sure who the other rateups will be. It's likely this event won't have a vsinger on rateup since we've had 7 vsinger 4* in a row (the most in the history of the game).
As for some quick wday specs, if Len is not on vday gacha that guarantees him for wday. he only has n25 and mmj lims left to go, so it means ena or shizuku or haruka is guaranteed for rateup. imo ena would be the more likely pick, since mmj just had a vsinger lim with kaito, but as i said i also think kanade5 is likely for february, and ena is very likely to be 4* there. tentatively, i'll be sticking with my initial wday shizuku spec, but she's also a possible candidate for 4.5 especially now that tsukasa is likely on that banner .
Pre-Broadcast Station commentary
The next Broadcast Station stream will be on the 26th, featuring Fumiyan, Itoken, and Daichan! This stream is an end of year special that will announce the new years song campaign, as well as lots of news about the upcoming movie and MySEKAI update. Make sure to tune in!
It's hard to say what events we'll get next month, but if the cast lineup is anything to go by we'll get VBS/WxS. I'm at least pretty confident in a VBS banner. For that we can expect a Toya banner, since there's no indicator that he'll be skipped in this rotation.
For WxS, as I've mentioned a few times recently, Emu seems most likely story-wise for the next event, Rui seems like a likely pick for this year's Golden Week hakolim instead. However, I think this slot could alternatively go to Leo/need, either Shiho or Honami, though Honami is more in need of a banner since Shiho just had a mixed event.
As for some brief early Valentine's predictions, Tsukasa is a very likely pick, as well as Akito. Minori and An are also possibilities if they aren't on the new years gachas.
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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 16: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should offer to help the travelers with their broken wagon.....
~
After much internal deliberation (and some zoning out staring at butterflies), The Adventurer decides it would be best to offer his assistance. Technically, he IS still following his goal of not getting distracted, because theoretically it would make his journey much faster if he were able to catch a ride on a carriage. So really, this is all an ultimate big brain genius strategy for maximizing efficient travel.. Or, at least that sounds like a good enough justification to him.
Gathering up all of his social courage, he approaches one of the travelers fiddling with a broken wheel near the far end of the carriage and meekly asks if there's anything he could do to help.
The man was so focused on his task, he seems initially startled to look up and find someone near him. "OH..! Oh, uhh.. help? With the wagon?", he smiles pleasantly, gesturing towards a few wooden boards that are just out of his reach, "Sure, kid. If you could just hand me th-"
"Apologies, but we actually won't be needing your assistance, stranger." A taller man, surprisingly almost matching the stature of the Adventurer, suddenly slinks out from somewhere behind the carriage, sternly placing himself like a barrier in front of the man working on the wheel. Wheel Guy nervously averts his eyes, making himself smaller, silently resuming his work.
The Adventurer tries his best to maintain composure against the weight of the tall man's bitter gaze, but can't seem to muster much of a response "Aeughh,,, uh… b-but, h- Bu--HHHh,,?.."
"Look, disregard whatever my father told you, he's old, never has any clue what he's talking about. It'd be best for you to simply move along." ('Father'? They don't look alike at all, and seem to be nearly the same age..)
"W-well.. he.. he didn't really tell me anything, I me-hhH,,.. I mean, I literally just got here, s-so...."
"Good. Even more reason to be on your way."
Placing a gloved hand firmly on his shoulder, the tall man begins to motion the Adventurer away from the wagon, but a strange noise interrupts, echoing from inside. Perhaps some sort of animal sound? Or a person faintly yelling about something? Or… both?
"WH-wHggg… whAT was t-that???!!" The Adventurer immediately stops in place, pausing to listen as the tall man keeps trying to push him ahead.
"I didn't hear anything, stranger."
"No, t-there.. was dEFinitely, UHH, a-"
"Likely something in the forest."
"Wh--aah... d.. do you think it was an animal?"
The tall man continues a dramatic struggle to 'subtly' drag him further down the road, whilst the Adventurer mindlessly digs in his heels, too distracted to even notice he's being so strongly prompted to leave.
"Many animals do, indeed, exist within forests. This should not be suprising."
"...It's just.. ..eughh… s… so weird…"
"I assure you, it is not."
"I-it really sounded like.. like it came f-from insid-"
"Yes, from inside the forest. Now, please, if you would.."
The noise interrupts again. It's definitely someone, or something, in some sort of distress.. And definitely from inside of the cart.
"wHoAAGH, aa!!! T-tHat's NOT from the f-forest, that-"
The tall man fully just shoves him now, sending the Adventurer toppling across the dirt, clumsily rolling and landing just past the other side of the carriage. A mother and young child who seem to be part of the traveling group simply stare down at him with empty blank gazes, wholly unconcerned about helping him up.
As the Adventurer fumbles back to his feet (still confused as to why he was even pushed in the first place), the tall man looms by the carriage, diligently watching to ensure that he leaves.
"Travel safe, stranger."
Despite his initial obliviousness, the Adventurer begins to piece the situation together as he stares back at the man, now fully convinced something suspicious might be going on...
…What should he do next??
~
~
~
Additional Information
the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has
#paventure posting#poll#polls#choose your own adventure#ERM.. ... hee hee... yes.. alas.. it has been like two months since the last one lol#IT'S SUMMER!!!! how can anyone function in the summer..? It's literally 83F in my room indoors right now at this moment at NIGHT#I'm about to go to sleep.. who can sleep in an 80+ degree room comfortably?? ghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#Really no hope of productivity at all from like June - September basically... EVIL.. and also the spring this year had some heat waves so#AUGhh... my nemesis the Summer.. Or moreso capitalism is my nemesis for worsening climate change and also keeping people in such#economic inequality that cheap apartments with terrible ventilation get made and people cant afford air conditioners and etc. etc.#but ALSO... the summer... grrrr.. 'Heat' you will never be famous.. you will always be lame nasty and so forth..#ANYWAY.. also sorry this is another blurb that's longer. The text is always longer when there's actually spoken interactions lol#I know I'm not very good at this style of writing (especially when rushing with these) so I always feel kind of awkward having really long#sections people will have to slog through or etc ghbjhjh but.. I don't really know how it make it shorter. the interaction#is just the interaction. certain things must be said and conveyed. peace and love on planet orth.#Ough it's been so long I almost forgot to draw his injuries lol.. in-world it's only been what like.. a day? since he got into a fight with#that mysterious cloaked person who was tracking him to steal the egg. I also always just forget how to draw him in between breaks#hopefully his hair and stuff doesn't look too different. They're meant to be really quick sketches anyway but still.. you at least want him#to be recognizable lol#ANYWAY.. another update from the Son.. what is he up to on his little traveles...
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Bestfriend Suguru! Who insists it’s totally normal how close the two of you are. All best friends cuddle, spend every day together, and call each other pet names… right?
Bestfriend Suguru! Who lets you do anything to his hair. Braiding it into intricate styles, as long as he gets to sit in between your two plush thighs he’s happy.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who’s mentioned on multiple occasions that it would be so much easier if you just dated each other instead. But he was always teasing you like that.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who knows you’ve had a terrible week at work so he orders take out and picks up some face masks to ease your tension. Watches your favorite movie for the 100th time with you, because he loves seeing his bestfriend happy.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who can’t get comfortable on the couch unless you’re lying on his chest so his hand can rest on your ass.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who absolutely HATES your boyfriend, he insists you’re too good for ‘filth like him’. Always seems to call you or pop up at your apartment, your boyfriend always wondered why Suguru had a spare key and he didn’t.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who gifts you a diamond bracelet you’d been eyeing for months at your birthday party. Makes the card out to his ‘favorite girl’. Smirking as he sees your boyfriend fume.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who you call crying when your boyfriend dumps you over text the day after.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who thanks his lucky stars that you dated such an idiot as he holds your sniffling form and strokes your hair.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who reassures you saying “baby, he’s not even worth the dirt on the shoes I bought you.” as you cry, lifting your chin to wipe away the tears on your cheek.
Bestfriend Suguru! Who doesn’t push you away when you capture his lips in a desperate kiss. Besides, how could he deny his favorite girl?
Bestfriend Suguru! Who lays you down on the bed, peppering kisses on your skin. Making you forget all about that jackass that dumped you.
Because what are friends for?
#JJK#jujutsu kaisen#suguru x reader#jjk suguru#geto x reader#jjk imagines#kbwrites#jjk x reader#geto suguru
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I’ve had an increase in rainbow aura with my migraines lately (I used to get them once a year, if that. Now, I’ve had it twice in one month) so I’ve become somewhat paranoid whenever something flashes over my vision.
Sometimes, it's just light reflecting off my phone, but it still makes me freeze up in a fear response when it happens because it usually means I’ve got about 20 minutes before I’m in agony.
Apparently, this new paranoia extends into my dreams now, too, because I was running down a long corridor, aware that there was something behind me that I needed to escape, but all of a sudden, in my dream, rainbow zigzags consumed my vision, and I stopped, dead and went, “fuck, migraine.”
That's when I became aware of James Bond/Daniel Craig standing beside me, gun drawn.
“Oh, shit. Do you need to lie down?” he asked while I stared at him.
I said, “What about the thing chasing us?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. If you need to lie down you can lie down. I’ll just kill them.”
I blinked at him for a bit, still winded from running then said, “Sure,” starting to get to my knees, ready to lie down on the cold stone floor beneath us.
“Sure?”
“Yeah. Kill ‘em. I’m just gonna...” I gestured vaguely at the floor. “Be right here, I guess.”
“You can go upstairs, you know,” he said, loading a fresh clip into his gun. “This museum has a hotel on top of it.”
“Oh good,” I said, starting to suspect this was a dream and not Daniel Craig about to murder the people chasing me because I had a migraine. “I’ll do that then.”
So I got back up and started climbing the stairs that looked an awful lot like the stairs in the Kelvin Grove Art Gallery, only to abruptly walk into Deathstroke and Nightwing doing their best to kill each other in the corridor of what was clearly a hotel based on the room service tray Nightwing was using to deflect projectiles.
They froze. I looked at them. They looked at me. “I’ve got a migraine,” I said,
“Shit, sorry,” Nightwing said, putting down his tray as both men stepped back to let me walk down the decimated corridor. “We’ll be more quiet.”
“Room 13 is open,” Deathstroke helpfully informed me.
“Is there a body in it?” I asked, now leaning against the wall, less walking along, more sliding.
“Not anymore.”
“Do you need anything?” Nightwing asked, “pain killers? Ice pack?”
I waved them off and made my way into room 13 where David Jason dressed as Detective Jack Frost looked up at me from the book he was reading on the bed.
“This is a dream,” he informed me.
“No it isn’t,” I said, despite knowing it was as I hobbled over to the bed and flopped down beside him. “And this room was supposed to be empty.”
“Open, not empty,” corrected Jack Banon who had taken David Frost’s place, dressed like young Alfie from Pennyworth as he sat beside me on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “There’s a very distinct difference between the two. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Who do you think moved the body?”
“I need to sleep,” I said, “if I can fall asleep, the migraine might go away.”
“That's all right,” he said. “You do that. I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Oh, just one thing before you do.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn't quite see and held it out to me. “You’ll need this.”
“What is it?” I said, my brain doing the dream thing where it refuses to read books or interpret numbers correctly. “I can’t see, what is it?”
“Oft, sorry. Can’t tell you that. More than my job’s worth.”
“You’re job...”
“Yeah.” and thats when he leaned over, stuck me with a needle and said, “Night night.”
And I woke up to the sound of @mothman-etd getting into the shower and Holly Mop wiggling under thre covers with me.
First words out of my mouth were, “What the fuck?”
And then I immediately pulled up Tumblr to write this down before I forget it because what the fuck.
Didn't wake up with a migraine though so... *knock on wood*
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Filthy
Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.
See my Masterlist Here
"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.
You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.
That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.
You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.
Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.
The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.
One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.
He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.
You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."
Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"
Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.
You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.
"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.
Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.
Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.
He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.
He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.
You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.
"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.
"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.
His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.
His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.
You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.
He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.
He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.
He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.
His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.
His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.
His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.
He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.
He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.
His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.
You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.
You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.
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NO NUT NOVEMBER ☆ JJK MEN
gojo, nanami, toji, getō, choso, jujutsu kaisen men & how long can they last during nnn
2.7k+ ☆ total wc ☆
☆ tags ☆ afab!reader. overstim , edging , dry humping , unprotected sex , oral [f] , orgasm-denial , semi-public sex , dirty talk , choking , dumbification kink, brat taming.
FAILED NOV. 1 ☆ GOJO SATORU
poor gojo fails on the first day immediately. he's so cocky once you suggest you two should try it—see which one breaks first and it's obviously gojo. you walking around in a sundress was just about enough for him to forget about the entire challenge.
“you really don’t think i’ll last for the entire month?” gojo says, and he’s just following you around. it’s november first and he’s already losing it. the pretty sundress that hung down you, practically and barely reaching your ass made him ten times hornier. “pft. please. i can last the whole month without—” and then he stops mid-sentence at the realization, and his lip quivers a bit whilst he’s rubbing himself against you from behind. “…can't i at least.. touch you, baby?”
“no,” you spoke, letting off a gasp once he bends you straight over the kitchen counter. all it took was for gojo to pull up your sundress a few inches towards your waist, and he nearly lets off a needy moan once he sees you’re wearing no panties. “you can last a month satoru. it's not that long.”
“hey ‘s not fuckin' fair,” he groans, and he’s so close propped up against you. his bulge hardens against you, he’s only wearing simple grey sweats and he slides his hands against your waist. “planned this all out, d-didn’t you,” and he lets off a low breathy sigh. “there's no rule sayin' i can’t bend ya over like this,” he speaks, his voice sounding whiner by the second—you gasp once he squeezes your ass, feeling his thumb brush against your slit. “is there, baby?”
gojo couldn't help himself. once he had you bent over, you now found yourself in mating press with him being pumped full over and over again. a day hasn’t even passed and he already lost—to be fair, in his defense it was your fault for walking around in a pretty short sundress that nearly showed the bottom parts of your ass.
“s-so nice ‘n warm f’me.” he’d pant again and again, having you in quite the position to where you’re laid flat on your back, his own cum is so much it’s oozing out of your pussy. your grip onto his wrist tightens as he dips his hips in and out, you’re moaning from his thrusts—already forgetting about the stupid dumb challenge you suggested for you and your boyfriend to participate in.
to think of going one month without being intimate with gojo.
“s-satoru,” you moaned, and his base just smacks just smacks and smacks against you. you're so dizzy, craving more of his sticky load by the second, desperately wanting to be even more full. it was such a mess between your legs. he’s panting and staring at you with that same hungry feral gaze, swiping a tongue across his sheeny lips—gojo leans in to kiss you hard, yet more so passionate. he’s moaning and whining into your mouth while preparing to cum again and he’s so sensitive. he can barely think straight. “m-mhm.”
your body is basically being fucked dumb into the fats of the silkened mattress. gojo’s weight hovers against yours as his cock thrusts in and out, giving you whiplash so good to where it has you digging your pretty nails into the pale roots of his arm.
“not finished with you,” he pants, his eye-lids were low, and he was still panting up a storm once he pulls out for a brief moment. gojo stares down at the mess he create—licking his lips once more before leaning down to briefly lick a little of his own cum from your thighs before letting off a sigh. “we… can try again next year, y-yeah?”
FAILED NOV. 3 ☆ CHOSO KAMO
choso would have honestly failed on the first day too, but he has a bit more self control which is surprising. he's a very needy man not to mention quite clingy too. three days felt so long for the poor guy though. three days without cumming inside—he'd go mad. so he had to improvise.
“just a taste princess, just a…taste,” he’d pant, staring at you with such intent. you’re just lying down on the bed, glancing back up at him while rubbing a hand over your tummy before smiling. “don’t look at me like that.”
“choso it’s only been three days,” you giggle, reaching for his hand and he was so warm—he lets off a soft moan just from your touch alone, so touch starved and it hasn’t even been that long.
a big baby.
but eventually, he was so cute and you gave in. choso didn’t even want to fuck you. all he wanted to do was please you, more than please himself. but he does end up pleasing himself just a tad bit. you getting off gets him off if that makes sense. the raven-haired man was propped securely between your legs, his tongue latched onto your sweet cunt, lapping it up continuously while his moans fanned against you—making you create out tiny whines and moans yourself.
“s-so good, so hungry,” he whines, and choso can’t help but reach into his black and white boxers, stroking himself. he couldn’t help it, just hearing your sweet noises was enough to make him cum right through his sweatpants. “drivin’ me s-so insane.”
“fuck choso,” you whimper, some long strands of his hair tickles and brushes against your thighs, he’s so sloppy too. making sure to spit on your pussy only to clean it up. choso wasn’t never fond of his pretty baby to be messy. he’s so into it, his lashes remained closed as he ate you out, continuing to stroke his dick—moaning right into your folds, eventually your slick drips down his chin and he’s craving more and more. “don’t stop, your tongue feels so g-good, baby.”
“praise me more,” he whines, giving you a brief stare, his eyes opens for a second and his eyebrows raise down and furrow. a cute saddened expression of how wanting and needy he was. “want you to tell me how good ‘m makin’ you feel, gorgeous.”
you’re panting heavily from his tongue and how deep it reaches, each suck and slurp he creates before you dig your fingers through his hair to make him maintain eye contact. “you’re so good, choso. you’re making me feel so good.”
“….oh, s’ all i want, pretty,” he sighs, giving the front part of your pussy a sweet kiss before dragging a single orgasm out of you.
FAILED NOV. 9 ☆ FUSHIGURO TOJI
you make toji fail because you’re just…horny. toji believe it or not, toji could last a few days of nnn despite being an actual walking sex-machine. it was your idea, but now you regret it. it makes his ego boost tremendously seeing how you couldn’t take it anymore, such a cock hungry girl.
“toji!” you’d pout, desperate for him to at least touch you at least—but no, he was busy occupying himself by working out. raising the hefty bench pressed up and down, he looked so good. and he was just ignoring you. a smirk lightly pressed against his lips as he lifts the gym equipment up and down, counting his sets in his head and you bit your lip.
you had to do something, you couldn’t wait. it’s been nine days, you were sitting on toji’s lap. specifically, his hard bulge that was poking through his grey gym shorts. “yes baby,” he speaks, acting as if you weren’t squirming on his lap, so desperate to get him off.
“i need you,” was the only pathetic words leaving your lips, and he watches as you slide your hands up his white tank tee, brushing your fingertips against his abdomen—his rock hard abs just flexing, a bit sweaty and you nearly moaned. “so bad. sosobad. fuck me please. ‘s was a stupid idea.”
“tch. ‘bout damn time. and ya said i’d break first,” he chuckles, setting the black dumbbells aside to their original position. “mm. at least y’er aware. now now, be a good girl ‘n take those filthy panties off f’me.”
you whined, thankful you wore a skirt so all you had to was really slip your panties off—you stare down at toji as you’re riding him and he’s still laid flat on his back on the gym bench. at least it wasn’t many people around but they’d still probably see you. but from anyone’s perspective, it’d look like a silly girl on her boyfriend’s lap for whatever reason.
“s-shit,” you moaned, feeling his cock expand deep just from his girth alone. it was so good, it nearly had you drooling. toji’s fat dick was something you could never get enough of. it stretched you out so good—it was indescribable to say how great it made you feel, your pussy yearned for more each time, your mouth grows dry as you grind your hips against him. and he’s just staring at you with his toned arms are just smugly pinned behind his back, watching you have the time of your life. “s’big toji. fuck.”
“ya know how to take it every time though, doll,” he grunts, bringing a hand towards your waist to somewhat guide your movements. you whimper once he brings a hard smack to your ass once he feels you start to slow down, he’s so big, his tip kisses against deep inside of your pussy and you’re so dizzy, you can’t even speak words. “fuckin’ whore-” he groans, and you end up making toji cum quicker than he thought he would—it shoots right inside you, his head goes back for about two seconds and it’s sexy, you can see his adams apple just briefly.
“better savor that shit,” he grumbles, watching you catch your breath yourself, and he brings two fingers and dips them inside your pussy before letting off a grunt. “should make ya lick my fingers clean. bet you’d like that, little slutty girl,” and he gives you a brief head pat while you’re pushed into his chest, panting over and over. “yeah ya fuckin’ would.”
FAILED NOV. 18 ☆ SUGURU GETŌ
geto could last long, but everything changed once you decided to tease him a bit too much. sending him videos of you touching yourself while he’s out at work or busy. he comes home to you—and he just can’t take it anymore.
geto’s breath shakes once he holds his phone in one hand, seeing you on the screen—only in your bra and panties, sliding a hand up and down your body. his eyes trail and observe every inch, his mouth dry a bit, wishing you were with him right now. “suguru baby, you miss me?” you’d say in the video recording, dragging your fingertips further and further down until you eventually stopped at the very hem of your panties. “it’s been eighteen days since you last touched me.”
“yeah…” he pants, knowing you obviously can’t hear him, but he wished you could. so bad. “miss you so bad, princess. miss your pussy.”
“remember, you can’t touch yourself to me either. or cum until the month ends, okay? love you.” and the video clip ends. of course, he watches it at least seven more times—nearly cumming his pants just at the sound of your voice alone.
geto groans, feeling the bulge in his pants strain staggeringly get bigger and bigger. once he finally gets home, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.
you were already waiting for him on the bed, with a sly smile—geto's quick to pick you up and kiss you all over, staring with your lips and your neck. “the tip, just the tip. swear. jus’ gotta feel you baby. feel your warmth.”
“fine,” you smile, already making your way onto him. geto tells you at least ten shaky thank you’s once you’re hovering over his cock—geto looks so pretty underneath you, his hair covers his face and he starts whining once you’re doing as promised, just the tip. “what’s wrong, do you want more than that?”
“yeah but baby, you’re gonna make me c-cum.” he moans, feeling you start to sink down lower until your hips rocks against him and he lets off a soft whimper by accident. “damn, just like that. ride me baby. make me cummm,” and his voice is so smooth but shaky, his dark pretty eyes nearly rolls back and it’s so sexy, he’s so sensitive he keeps swallowing and bracing himself before within seconds—geto ends up shooting white ropes inside, you feel his dick twitch as he’s still spasming, it’s been so long and his load is so much.
“shit.” he whines, leaning in to kiss you and he ends up moaning in your mouth once you return the kiss. “saved- saved s’much for you, baby,” he moans, grabbing ahold of your hips, making you continue to rock against him—only before he grips your waist, and starts to make you slam onto him and you whined, completely taken aback. “gotta remind this pussy who it really belongs to though.”
FAILED NOV. 30 ☆ NANAMI KENTO
nanami's the only one of the few who can actually go an entire month, although he just about barely makes it. he comes home from a long day at work and he’s just so pent up and stressed. all he can think about is using you as his personal cum dump.
“you don’t know how hard it was to not—” and he pauses, having you lied flat on your back, using a single hand to pry your pretty legs open. you shiver from feeling the cold band of his watch brush against your thighs. “woman, you torture me, you know that?”
you whimper from feeling him slowly sink himself inside—he’s staring down at you and his weight presses against your ass, he groans once he goes in and out, he’s teasing you. his cock was so thick, it stretches you out in every shape or form. your pussy hugs and grips him tightly, and he just can’t help himself. “kento, cum in me p-please,”
“thought you said i couldn’t cum until december first, sweetheart,” he says in a low voice, it’s almost seductive by the sounds of his pronunciation. nanami’s just sliding his tip in and out, it’s leaking with some of his own pre-cum, and he lets off a chuckle once he hears your cute whine of frustration. “this is your little game, i’m just playing by the rules.”
“didn’t mean it,” you cry out, so needy for him to fuck you. he was so warm, so so warm, your eyebrows parted together in annoyance and you bit your lip at him sinking a few inches inside your tight needy cunt before pulling out again. “kento please. fuck me, cum-cum in me, i need it.”
“oh, i know,” he breaths, and you gasp once you feel him spank your ass before rubbing it softly. nanami groans—swiping his fat reddened tip against your throbbing hole, spitting on his hand before rubbing it against your entrance to make you whimper, then spanks your pussy. “to think i haven’t touched this pretty body for a damn near month. you only ended up torturing yourself, sweetheart. can’t last a day without me filling this sloppy cunt up,” and as he’s talking, you’re growing more and more dizzy. you’re practically drooling from how needy you were.
and he dumbs his words down just a tad bit for you, his voice grows low once he leans up close to you purposely, wrapping a hand around your throat as his weight pressed against your ass. “tell me,” he whispers. “say the words and i’ll overflow your pussy with everything i have, pretty girl.”
“please kento, need your cum. need it so bad. fill me up please. breed me.”
“anything for my girl.” he kisses the top of your head, stroking a thumb against the middle part of your neck before stuffing two fingers of his into your mouth—he didn’t expect you to suck on them, but you did, whining and whining over and over again once he starts to thrust inside of you. he’s slow but his strokes are deep, and it’s so romantic. “that’s it, jus’ relax for me. let me claim these walls, then i’ll claim your heart next.”
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