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heartpascal · 11 months

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is it freedom?

▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.

▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(

▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation

masterlist PART TWO

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Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.

But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?

You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.

It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.

But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.

The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.

It’s freedom. It has to be.

You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.

And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.

So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.

You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.

“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.

“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.

“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”

The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.

“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.

And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.

It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.

There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.

You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?

Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.

The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?

“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.

“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?

“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?

The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.

“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.

“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.

You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.

But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.

Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.

“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”

The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.

You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.

His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.

You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.

“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”

Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.

“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”

“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”

The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.

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You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.

No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.

So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.

However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.

But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.

A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.

She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”

You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?

“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”

You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?

“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.

“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”

The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”

“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.

The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”

You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.

…Right?

It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.

People aren’t born as monsters, are they?

Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.

Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.

“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.

You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.

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If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.

It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.

In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?

You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?

It didn’t feel right.

And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.

“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.

“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.

It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.

But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.

It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.

And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?

“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.

You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.

Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.

It was a whirlwind from there.

Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.

You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.

But you were.

This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.

You had everything you needed.

And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.

The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.

It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.

“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.

She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.

“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”

You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.

“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.

The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”

“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”

She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.

It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.

If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.

It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.

Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.

A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.

She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”

“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.

“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.

“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.

Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.

Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.

But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.

Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.

Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.

“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.

“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.

Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.

It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.

She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.

Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.

You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.

Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.

“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.

As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.

“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.

“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”

The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.

“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”

Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.

Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.

You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.

It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.

You’re capable and you’re content.

You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?

The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.

“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.

He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.

He stares at you, unimpressed.

“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.

“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.

You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.

Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.

His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.

“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.

Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.

Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.

#heartpascal writes #across the spiderverse spoilers #atsv spoilers #spiderman atsv spoilers #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x platonic reader #jessica drew x platonic reader #peter b parker x platonic reader #peter b parker x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x platonic reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse imagines #spiderverse one shot #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse angst #miguel o’hara angst #struggling idk how to tag with a new fandom shhh

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joekeeryswife · 4 months

Text

arranged marriage 1 - f.c

hey honeys! i hope you enjoyed my last imagine. writing for Felix legit has me in a chokehold. dickhead!felix (im sorry!) mean reader at the start then she turns sweet, i also suck at endings so please ignore how bad it is and the spelling mistakes lol.

anyways, here’s another angst to fluff imagine, Felix is 22 and reader is 20! enjoy reading 🩰

taglist🩰 (add yourselves here): @hummusxx @lalademie @kikiandbella @anamiad00msday @saltburntt @livvy256 @gee72sstuff please make sure your @ are on otherwise i cannot tag you!!

“mum seriously? Felix? as in the only person i absolutely hate with a passion Felix?” your mum rolled her eyes at your outburst. it wasn’t a shock to her that you were mad, you and Felix had grown up together but for some reason the two of you never got along. your parents had grown up together and had obviously been planning this for some time.

“i’m sorry sweetheart but yes, it will be good for the two of you to finally get along, he is a really sweet boy you know” you huffed “we could get along without getting married? i mean, i’m only 20 years old. i have my whole life ahead of me to get married” you ran a hand through your hair.

“why do i not get a say in this? shouldn’t i be able to say yes or no to this?” you were frustrated, you hated Felix. and no marriage certificate was ever going to change that. “stop being silly y/n. Elspeth is so excited to have you as a daughter in law, she loves you” your mum tried to end it there but you were not giving up.

“dad please tell her she is being irrational, there is no way you have agreed to this as well” you looked over at your dad “i’m sorry honey but i have agreed and so has the Catton family. you have no idea how good this would be for us, you will be bringing two very strong bloodlines together” you wanted to scream.

marrying Felix was the worst possible thing to probably ever happen in your life. Felix was an asshole to you, rude, snobby and ignorant. he thought he was this incredible man but in reality he was just a bastard, and you would be marrying him? you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

“i’m sure the two of you will get along just fine, you’re being a little dramatic honey. you’re going to have a beautiful dress, a beautiful ceremony, it’ll be amazing. and Felix is a very a handsome boy and you are a gorgeous girl, your kids will be absolutely perfect” you choked on your saliva

“kids? mum are you joking? i’m begging you, please don’t force me to marry him, my life will be a misery” your mum shook her head. “enough. this is final. you will marry Felix, end of story” your dad said making you and your mum look at him. you did not ever think that you would be in an arranged marriage with Felix Catton.

“now, get ready darling, we are going to saltburn to celebrate” this was going to be hell.

-♡-

“Felix darling, will you come here for a moment please?” Felix heard his mother call out as he walked past the living room. he saw his mum and dad sat on the sofa next to each other with huge smiles on their faces. he walked into the living room and sat on the sofa opposite the two of them “should i be worried?” he said jokingly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“no of course not” his mum laughed. “we have some news for you which you may not like the sound of at first, but, i think the idea will grow on you” his dad said, excitement filling his voice.

“we have been speaking to y/n’s parents” Felix rolled his eyes at the mention of your name. “and we have all collectively decided that it’s time for the two of you to finally know that you will be getting married” Elspeth squealed in excitement.

his jaw dropped “isn’t that amazing? oh god it’s so nice for the secret to finally be out” his father seemed just as ecstatic as his mother.

“you are joking right?” his mothers smile faltered “no, it’s not, you two are getting married. oh i am so thrilled Felix, we have been planning this for ages and now that you both know i think it’s really set it in stone.” he shook his head at her.

“no, absolutely not. i’m sorry but there is no way in hell that i am marrying y/n” he shook his head and laughed. “this is bullshit, we fucking hate each other, why the fuck would you two even think that is a good idea?” he felt sick. “Felix, don’t use that type of language please” Elspeth said.

“mum, she’s a bitch. you really think i want to marry her?” James shook his head “she is a lovely girl. it’ll be good for us Felix. and it will be nice for you two to get along” Felix scoffed at his father. “you guys can plan this as much as you want, but i am not marrying that girl. i am 22 years old and i am old enough to make my own decisions, no is no”

“you will be, sorry Felix but it’s already started to be planned. the two of you will be getting married so you best start to try and get along. you guys will be moving into a lovely house after your honeymoon, you two will be fine” Elspeth said, her voice stern.

“now, since you know the news, go get ready. we are having a huge party to celebrate your engagement” he scoffed and walked away from his parents. this was going to be a long night.

-♡-

your mother had already picked out your engagement party dress and to be honest she did a good job of picking it. the dress wasn’t too over the top which you were grateful for. this whole idea of getting married to someone you hated was a lot of getting used too. you didn’t even have a ring yet which you knew would make it feel more real.

when you envisioned yourself your life you didn’t expect to get married for a few more years, and you would be getting married to someone you actually loved. you never thought your parents would force you to get married to anyone, let alone Felix. “are you excited for the party?” your mum said pulling you out of your thoughts.

you gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded “look, i know it’s not what you wanted but we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think it would work out. you and Felix will love each other in no time. i think when you two spend time together you will start to really like him” she grabbed ahold of your hand.

you were honestly willing to try the marriage thing for the sake of your parents, Felix was nice to everyone but you and you wanted to find out why. “oh, we invited practically everyone we know so be prepared to show fake smiles” she added as you stopped outside of Saltburn. knowing that you had to be lovey dovey with Felix made you anxious, it’s not like it was going to be easy when the two of you despised each other.

“right, let’s get this over with” you said as you exited the car, your mum scoffed “don’t speak like that y/n, you will enjoy yourself” she said as she linked her arm with your fathers. you followed behind the two of them and looked around the front garden of Saltburn, it had been covered in all different types of gold decorations.

Duncan the butler was waiting for you all at the front of the house, even though it was a party his face was still nonchalant. “theyre all waiting for you in the back garden, guests have already began to arrive.” your mother and father thanked him and made their way inside “not even going to break a smile for me, this is a party after all” you joked “enjoy the party y/n” he said making you laugh and brush past him. there was no breaking Duncan.

you made your way to the back garden which was just like the front, covered in gold decorations with guests slowly filling every section dressed in their party attire. you spotted Elspeth, James and Felix with your parents and you knew you would have to go over there. you put on your best brave faces d made your way over there.

Felix looked miserable as he stood next to his mother his eyes fixated on the grass. he hated the thought of you, he hated the thought of the two of you getting married even more. “aww there is the beautiful bride to be” he heard his mother say which made him look up from the ground.

now, even though you and Felix hated each other, there was no way he’d lie and say you weren’t beautiful because you were. you were one of the most beautiful people he had ever met. but that didn’t change the fact that he thought you were the most annoying person he’d ever met.

“gosh you look gorgeous” Elspeth said as you finally stood next to your parents. she pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek. “now that you are here we can talk to you both. we know that the two of you don’t get along but we are very happy that you are going along with the arrangement. we promise you both that it will be all worth it in the end” James spoke quietly but loud enough for you all to hear. they obviously didn’t want people knowing that it was an arranged marriage.

“we will see about that dad, this is the worst day of my life” Felix said shaking his head. hearing him say that hurt you a little bit and you didn’t know why. you didn’t show the hurt on your face and you were quick with a comeback “likewise, i’d rather drown in bleach then have to marry you but here we are”

“why don’t the two of you go talk to one another about it? it might be good for you two to have an actual conversation instead of arguing all the time. go to the library, there isn’t anybody in there” Elspeth said looking between the two of you. “oh and if you see any guests and they congratulate you, please act like the two of you love each other” she added as the two of you started, asking your way to the library.

the walk to the library was silent until one of the Henry’s and his wife stopped the two of you “there is the happy couple. we have been waiting for the two of you to get together since you were young. you look gorgeous together” Henry’s wife said. your sour expression was quickly forgotten and you tried your best to show you were happy by putting the fake smile on your face.

you felt Felix’s arm go around your waist. “thank you, it didn’t take too much convincing” you said as convincing as possible. “let me see your ring dear, it must be beautiful” your eyes widened, you did not think about that at all. “it’s at the jewellers, i accidentally got the wrong size so we need to get her a temporary ring until her real one comes back” Felix was quick with his answer.

“how did you propose Felix? was it romantic?” you both nodded “very, we were on a couples holiday. we went for dinner and then we went for a walk along the beach and i just got down on one knee when i felt like the time was right” how was he so quick with these answers?

“wow, that is truly romantic. anyways, we don’t want to keep you guys for any longer. congratulations you two” with that the two of them walked toward the garden. “how the fuck did you come up with that so quickly?” you said as you both also continued walking. “dunno, i just made it up” his voice was flat and his arm dropped from your waist.

the two of you reached the library and Felix closed the door behind him. you sat on the sofa and he sat next to you awkwardly “so, how are you feeling about this situation then?” you spoke trying to stop the awkwardness. “how do you think? i’m being forced to marry a girl who i despise” he scratched the back of his neck.

“well, i’m not ecstatic about it either but, we have to do it. we just need to try and be nice to one another and i think it could work out. it’s gonna be awkward but-” he cut you off quickly “do you really think i’m gonna try work this out? with you? you must be out of your mind” he started, you didn’t like where this was going at all.

“you are the most annoying person i’ve ever met, you do realise this marriage is just to make our parents look good? there is no way i will try work this out with you. i will never like you, i will never love you. you’re just going to be a person i’m being forced to live with” you looked at him “you are unlovable. no one will ever fall in love with you, you are that frustrating. your parents probably agreed to this marriage because they know no one else will fall in love with you” his tone was harsh. hearing him say that broke you.

you could feel your eyes filling with tears which you tried to conceal as best you could but it was no use. even though you hated him his words cut deep. “that’s a really fucked up thing to say” you shook your head and got up to walk away, slamming the library door as you walked to the nearest bathroom. you could feel your chin quiver as you sniffled, trying your best to keep your tears at bay.

Felix knew that was a low blow, and he regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his mouth. he was left in the huge library, the deafening silence making him feel even worse for how he spoke to you. the two of you always threw insults at each other but nothing like that, ever.

he could tell that you were trying to make the best out of a shitty situation and he had to ruin it by overstepping the mark. he knew that he was going to have to apologise to you because he did, that time, take it too far. he spotted Theo, another butler stood at the end of the hallway. “did you see where she went?” he asked him as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket.

“she walked into the bathroom down that way sir” Theo pointed in the direction you had gone, he nodded “thanks” he started making his way to the bathroom and once he was outside the door he could hear your quiet sobs. he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t think the person he was about to comfort would be you let alone for something he said.

he knocked on the door gently, he heard your sobs stop. “who is it?” you called out, trying your best to hide the waver in your voice. “can i come in?” he questioned. he was stood outside the door for a couple of minutes before he heard you unlock the door. he walked into the bathroom and saw you sat on the floor next to the door.

he cautiously sat down next to you, not knowing how you were going to react. “look, i’m sorry for what i said. that took it too far and i am truly sorry. i’m just stressed about the situation and i took it out on you and i shouldn’t have done that” you just nodded and looked down at your lap.

he sighed, he knew that both of you would have to figure out a plan. the two of you were getting married which seemed scary to both of you and if you went through with it with out a plan it would just crumble. he spoke “so” you looked up from your lap to look at him “we need a plan” you nodded again. “how do you wanna do this?”

#fanfiction #imagines #felix catton series #felix catton x fem!reader #felix catton imagine #felix catton imagines #felix catton x reader #felix catton #saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #saltburn #jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi imagines #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

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landograndprix · 8 months

Text

「Mini me, mini you? ๛ l.n || c.l」

part vii

✧.* you and lando need to make a decision, a decision that might just be the best for the both of you but one is getting over it faster than the other

✧.* there's a little time jump in here 😉 also this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list since it's a mess to tag that many people when half of it doesn't work, hope you understand! Some people are tagged in the comments, I can only tag 50 peeps in a post. Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

➽────────────────────────❥

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 187,672 others

y/nusername he be cheesin' 🐶

tagged: landonorris

view all 489 comments

norrislando I refuse to believe this is our boy Benji, why's this dude growing so fast? 🥺

julieeeexo love that she still tags lando, like man, look at our son 🥰

landonorris he do be goofin' 🐶

norry4 just like his mom and dad!

clsixteen I just know this boy's spoiled rotten like he should 🥺

yourfriend3 the most handsome boy on the planet ❤️

charles_leclerc the best boy 🐾

sharl16 this dog having the best step-dad for real

carlandooo did I miss something? Step-dad?

sharl16 we are all convinced charles and y/n are dating 🥰

carlandooo but she's with lando..no?

sharl16 they broke up like 5 or 6 months ago but they're still good friends!

carlandooo wow, a lot has happened since I left 😭

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y/nusername

liked by maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc and 202,673 others

y/nusername Monaco day ft the love of my life @.maxfewtrell

view all 601 comments

charles16 okay girlie I see the soft launch 👀

maxfewtrell soulmates babes

norrizz lmao this is so max and y/n coded, I love them

landonorris absolutely disgusting

norry4 someone's a bit jealous 😂

leclerc_16 that soft launch tho

yourfriend3 better take us with you next time

y/nusername yes mum, I will

charles_leclerc ❤️

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formulaonewags

liked by 425 others

formulaonewags one of charles' friends posted this picture of what seems to be charles' and y/n enjoying some time together! The picture has been removed from the friend's story, most likely posted by mistake.

view all 102 comments

carlandooo oh stop it, I'm not supposed to ship this 😭

bott_ass yo y'all so quick, this was posted like 5 minutes ago 💀

sharl16 could be anyone tbh but okay

sixteencl I mean the rumors have been y/n and charles so it would make sense bestie

sharl16 thanks bestie but I'm in denial 😔

chilisainz no but they are being cute though..

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @buffysummersx @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs

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lovelyhan · 9 months

Text

— caught in the middle ⟢

mingyu knows. he’s perfectly aware that his best friend’s girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader x mingyu

★ WORD COUNT; 15.8k words

★ TAGS; established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining (or is it!!!), fluff, mild angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ WARNINGS; mentions of twitter porn, sex tapes, mentions of infidelity (there's none of that here though), lots of guilt-ridden thoughts on gyu's end

★ NOTES; i'm literally several days late but happiest birthday to the man i enjoy writing for wayyyy too much, wonwoo <3 it's been four months since i last revisited the streamer series, and i'm glad to finally make good on that teaser i left in the second part :]

★ BEFORE YOU READ; i highly recommend reading the first two stories in the series first bc as much as i wanted to let readers consume this as a standalone, context is still really important for the story i want to tell!

this is part of the game over series!

★ SMUT TAGS; oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, daddy kink, pet names (puppy for gyu), threesome, spitroasting, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, aftercare

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @ldkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzz - @lissiesykes - @jeonride - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt

★ MINGYU & WONWOO TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @emmmui - @swinterr - @wolfhardbby - @scandal-in-bohemia

★ FIC/SERIES TAGLIST; @ressonancee - @smooore - @wave2love - @jjongjjongiesworld - @mimi14berrybear - @hanniebanggi - @havetaeminforbreakfast - @slut4donghyuck - @delulu4-life - @aurumness - @mingyucookies - @noonareads - @hafuunkjw - @strxbrymilkkuu

part one - part two - part three - part four

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life.

Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis.

And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.

How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

“Mingyu, you’re dragging your ass a lot today,” Seungcheol’s voice sounds pissed through his headphones and Mingyu can’t exactly fault him for it. Not when he ended up making their team lose their third Valorant match in a row. “The hell’s up with you? I thought you already practiced using Gekko with Vernon the other day.”

“We did and he was actually pretty good,” the younger man comments. “Dunno what suddenly got into him today though.”

“Cheol-hyung, you shouldn’t berate Mingyu when you royally sucked at using Neon during the time she was first released,” Wonwoo quips.

Seungcheol immediately makes a disgruntled noise at that. “I did not royally suck! She just doesn’t fit my playstyle. And I get that you guys are glued to the hip at this point, but you of all people should know when to call out your teammates especially if they’re being a bunch of noobs, Wonwoo.”

“Now, now, didn’t we already talk about this? No fighting when we’re only doing a bunch of scrimmages between friends.”

A less abrasive voice flits into the call and Mingyu finds himself relaxing into his seat as he stares at the glowing red DEFEAT screen on his monitor. Ever since you and Wonwoo finally dropped the act of hating each other and started dating, you’ve constantly mediated any petty arguments that sparked within their group. Mingyu is all sorts of grateful, but also just a tad bit embarrassed whenever he’s part of the argument in question.

“Yeah, what she said,” Wonwoo agrees with a huff.

“Whatever, man. Koyahngi has watered down your temper so much, it makes me look like the most easily tilted player on the team,” Seungcheol grumbles before adding, “Ugh. Couples.”

Vernon laughs softly. “Crazy how you’re the one who always insisted for Wonwoo-hyung to be kinder, but now that he is, you suddenly want him to go back to his trash-talking ways.”

“Now why’s everyone dogpiling me now!” the older man whines.

About half an hour and another lost match later, everyone decides to call it a day. Seungcheol and Vernon are going to hold a joint stream together and Mingyu needs to get ready for another modeling gig he managed to land a couple of days ago. He’s not sure what you and Wonwoo have in store for the day, but his best friend and roommate mentioned that you were going to drop by their apartment sometime today.

But when Mingyu finally deigned to grab a towel and head to the bathroom, he instead makes a detour to the couch with a desolate sigh. He unlocks his phone and opens the Twitter app like it was second nature, tapping on the button that pulls up his most recent searches.

goodcat_badcat

He absentmindedly types the username to an account that’s been his constant companion whenever he needed to let off some steam. Though he hasn’t checked her profile in a while, Mingyu was under the impression that goodcat_badcat would still be there to give him a hand especially when his schedule has been driving him insane these days.

But when the app redirects him to the main profile, the same words that greeted him when he woke up with his painfully hard morning wood stare back at him. Something went wrong. Try again.

She deactivated. His favorite Twitter porn girl is fucking gone and now he’s got nothing but despair and the bluest balls in the entire city.

“Hey.”

Mingyu jolts at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice, immediately locking his phone before tossing it on the other side of the couch as if it burned him. He’s quick to whirl around to greet him with a too-wide smile.

“Hyung, what’s up?” Mingyu asks, thanking the heavens that his voice didn’t crack.

His best friend looks at him weirdly. “Uh, do you have any plans today? We’re going out to go bowling today and she told me to ask if you wanted to come along.”

Bowling. Wonwoo sucks at bowling, but you managed to rope him into going with you anyways.

“I’d love to, but I’ve got a shoot in…” Mingyu’s voice falters before reaching for the phone he just tossed away—heart dropping to his stomach when he looks at the time. “Shit. Forty minutes.”

He doesn’t wait for Wonwoo’s response before bounding towards the bathroom with a towel in hand.

The part-time model hasn’t gotten ready faster in his entire life. Though his manager told him that the brand he’s shooting for this time isn’t strict with time, Mingyu doesn’t want to make it a habit to show up late for his commitments.

Streamers already have a bad enough image to those who aren’t part of the industry, and he wants to make it a point that not every single one of them is a slob who doesn’t shower and makes tardiness a way of life.

As he pulls on a snapback over his still-damp hair—opting to let the stylists on the set handle it for him instead—he faintly hears your voice outside of his bedroom door.

“Aww, he isn’t coming?”

“Yeah. Let’s just invite him next time,” Wonwoo’s muffled response manages to reach his ears as well.

With one last glance in the mirror, Mingyu hoists his bag across his shoulder before opening the door to his room. He spots you seated on the armrest of their couch, kicking your legs somewhat adorably before you meet his gaze with surprise.

For someone who’s supposed to be bowling today, you don’t really look the part. Of course, your signature Koyahngi cat ear headband is sitting on top of your head, as in-theme as always. You also paired up your short, pleated skirt with lace-trimmed thigh highs, and chunky white boots. Not to mention the sheer, low cut top that gives him an ample view of your cleavage…

“Gyu, do you have a photoshoot today or something?” Your question promptly snaps him out of his somewhat rude staring. “Here I thought we could team up and destroy Wonwoo together in the bowling alley.”

“As if I’d allow that,” his best friend scoffs. “Mingyu’s teaming up with me, princess. Then you’ll be crying like a loser while we get ourselves a victory treat from the snackbar.”

“We are not going to do that, and yeah, I have a photoshoot…that I’m already late for actually,” Mingyu replies with a bubble of laughter. “That’s okay. You and Wonwoo-hyung have fun. Pro-tip, he actually sucks at bowling, so you’ll score much better than he will.”

You giggle before getting back on your feet, making your way over to Mingyu faster than he can prepare himself for. He hasn’t quite noticed it as vividly as he does now, but you’re so much smaller than him—even with the added inches of your boots.

It doesn’t help that the way you’re cutely looking up at Mingyu with those pretty doe eyes as you examine his outfit is making sweat bead across his temples. Great.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re heading to a shoot though,” you laugh. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you? Who’s the lucky guy or gal? Why’d you dress up like Tadashi Hamada just to impress them?”

Wonwoo snorts. “You mean the guy who died in Big Hero 6?”

“Well, yeah, but he was also my childhood crush, so shut up, Wonwoo.”

Your childhood crush. Mingyu looks like your childhood crush.

As Mingyu watches you bicker with his roommate—your boyfriend and his best friend—he realizes something that could change the trajectory of this friendship altogether.

He might have a crush on someone he isn’t supposed to want.

Like any other sane person out there, Mingyu does his best to brush it off.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s been fleetingly attracted to people who are taken before and it wouldn’t last for more than a few days before he gets over it.

Mingyu simply chalks this up to hormones. After all, it was one thing to see your promiscuous outfits on streams, but it’s another to constantly be around you in those…rather unique get-ups. As degenerate as it sounds, he is just a man. Though he definitely won’t make a move on his best friend’s girl just because you like to show up to their apartment in short skirts and tight crop tops, he can’t help the physical reaction your presence evokes from him.

Which is his exact dilemma right now.

“Nonu, you got a silencer on you?” you mutter with your feet propped up on the coffee table—eyes glued to your phone while the three of you played a new mobile-based battle royale game in the living room. “I found a shotgun. Can you drop it for—Fuck!”

Wonwoo hums beside you, glancing at your screen for only a moment before focusing on his own character. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone fucking killed me with a Type 25!”

Your boyfriend simpers. “That’s what you get for talking to me and not focusing on the game, princess.”

“I just remembered how much I hate you.”

With sulkiness in your strides, you get up from the couch before plopping yourself on the armrest of the lazyboy Mingyu’s currently occupying. He startles at your sudden switch in seats—eyes darting between you and his phone before he tells himself to focus or he’ll get wiped off the map in a blink of an eye too.

“Gyu, can you do me a favor and just let Wonwoo die if he needs help?” you coo, wrapping your arms around his bare bicep. “Teach the fucker the importance of teamwork?”

Wonwoo laughs crudely from his spot on the couch. “What happened to ‘no fighting during scrims between friends’ huh?”

“That rule doesn’t apply when I’m the one being antagonized.”

Mingyu is a little busy evading a sniper that’s trying to take him out, but he does hear Wonwoo mutter, fucking brat, under his breath. He doesn’t pay it any mind—quite used to this back-and-forth dynamic between the both of you, even before you made it official.

The rest of the round goes on for another ten or-so minutes. As if the gods answered your call, Wonwoo gets done in by a grenade, leaving Mingyu the only surviving member of your three-man team.

“Uhhh, sniper—two o’clock,” you point out, leaning closer to his screen all while pressing your tits against his arm. Mingyu lets himself think it’s not intentional. “That’s the asshole who killed me! You’ll avenge me, won’t you Gyugyu?”

God. He hasn’t even gotten used to you calling him Gyu and now you’ve suddenly got another adorable nickname up your sleeve?

But back to the sniper. He’s a little too far away for Mingyu to make quick work of and the only weapons he’s got equipped are close range. From what he can see on the kill counter, only three players remain and Mingyu just has to pray that the sniper and whoever else is left aren’t teammates and—

The flash animation of a sniper rifle going off illuminates part of his screen. The kill counter ticks up to 48 out of 50 players dead.

Mingyu doesn’t waste any more time.

You’re practically shouting into his ear as he rushes to ambush the sniper on the second floor, clutching his arm tightly as you dish out helpful words of advice. (There’s a bomb in that stairwell. Chase him on the other side!)

The game ends in a sound victory for your team when Mingyu manages to kill off the sniper with close range combat. Despite the added flourish to your reigning rank and win rates, you still tease him about how he fumbled with his weapon stash during those last few seconds—bringing out a molotov instead of a pistol like he initially intended. The six foot gamer argues that it was just the nerves and the fact that you were pressing your perky breasts into the curve of his muscles, but you don’t really have to know that last bit.

Mingyu gets so into it that he fails to notice the way his best friend’s eyes linger on him and his girlfriend for a beat longer than usual, nor is he privy to the way Wonwoo’s lips twist into a sordid smirk.

After borrowing some of Wonwoo’s clothes, you end up staying over for dinner—even going out of your way to help Mingyu in the kitchen as he whips up some kimbap for everyone in the house. Wonwoo at least has the decency to set the table while you two are busy doing the brunt of the work in preparing food and once everything is in place, you and Mingyu share a quick high five.

“We actually make a good team, huh?” you snicker.

Mingyu feels his neck prickle with heat. “Guess you can say that.”

Once your stomachs are full and the dishes are washed and put away, Wonwoo puts on a thriller on the TV. You’re still pouting because of his shitty behavior during the game, but you ultimately choose to snuggle up next to your boyfriend despite.

It’s in rare moments like this where Mingyu truly gets to observe you and Wonwoo past the dynamic you both like to parade around other people. Your fiery personalities have been tempered into something calmer. Something he’d dare to call safe.

No snide comments, no senseless bickering—only tangled limbs under a weighted blanket, snuggling yourself deeper into your boyfriend’s chest, and looking up at him with sleepy but loving eyes.

So here’s Mingyu’s predicament: you’re ridiculously attractive but also ridiculously in love with his best friend.

“Mingyu.”

He blinks up in surprise when he notices Wonwoo standing in front of Mingyu’s lazyboy, carrying you in his arms as you doze softly into his chest. The sight makes his heart twist with a kind of fondness that he was never meant to feel for you.

“Hm?” Mingyu tries to sound as casual as he can manage—forcing his eyes on the TV and away from your vulnerable form. “Guess she’s sleeping over, huh?”

His best friend hums. “I was supposed to drive her home before meeting Soonyoung and the others to grab drinks. But she hates it when I wake her up after she falls asleep like this.”

Mingyu nods. “Okay.”

“And she also hates waking up in the middle of the night all alone,” Wonwoo adds. “Which is where you come in.”

There’s a long pause in their conversation that makes Mingyu hyper aware of the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep in Wonwoo’s arms. You really are out cold—too deep into slumber to have any awareness of what the two men are even discussing.

“What?” Mingyu whispers, unable to pay attention to the main character walking into her doom on the television screen. “What do you mean that’s where I come into the picture? Don’t tell me you’re still going out for drinks when your sulky girlfriend’s asleep in our house.”

“It’s only for an hour or two,” Wonwoo explains before padding over to Mingyu’s—yes, Mingyu’s bedroom—before gently laying you down on the bed and pulling his blanket across your dozing form. “We’re actually meeting with our manager so I can’t talk myself out of the schedule even if I really fucking want to.”

The disbelief is still evident on Mingyu’s face. “So you’re putting me in charge of babysitting her until you come back?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Gyu. You’re just gonna sleep next to her, not clean up after her shit.”

Somehow, the fact that Wonwoo’s practically giving Mingyu permission to do that sounds more daunting than the latter. He’s much too busy gawking at the older man to give him a proper response right away.

Is this really the same guy who personally tells the perverts in your stream’s chat to fuck off when they’re being out of line? The guy who always has an arm wrapped possessively around your waist whenever you’re all out with your friends?

“Do I have a choice?” Mingyu sighs.

“If you want to deal with her all pissed off after waking up alone, then be my guest.”

“This wouldn’t be even an issue if you just did a rain check!”

“You know I’d do anything to keep her happy if I could, right?”

The pleading tone of Wonwoo’s voice takes Mingyu aback for half a moment before he gets his bearings straight. It shouldn’t be a surprise to him, how your boyfriend treats you like a goddamn princess. No matter how much you rile each other up where everyone can see, at the end of the day, Wonwoo is still the type of lover who puts great value in the smallest things.

The guy takes your fucking napping habits into consideration when making decisions between his personal life and his career. Even going out of his way to inconvenience his own best friend just so you wouldn’t wake up all alone.

If that isn’t love, Mingyu doesn’t know what is.

“Fine,” Mingyu relents. “Just make sure you’ll be back in two hours or else I’ll call your manager and tell him the apartment caught fire.”

Wonwoo flicks him painfully on the forehead as he walks back to the living room, making Mingyu roll back onto the cushions with a groan. “Don’t crack jokes like that when my girlfriend’s over at our place.”

“Wow.” Mingyu scowls. “So it’s okay for the apartment to go up in flames if I’m alone?”

His best friend doesn’t even hesitate. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Thirty minutes later, Wonwoo has already left for his evening plans and Mingyu is left to clean the leftover snacks off the coffee table as the end credits roll on the TV. The door to his bedroom has been left ajar so he can at least keep an eye on you in his peripheral while he tidies up.

He’s supposed to do a chill, late night stream, but seeing as his room has another occupant this evening, he might have to go on Twitter to let his subscribers know about the change in schedules. But that would leave Mingyu with nothing else to do aside from going to bed early.

Meaning, he’d have to lie next to you. On his bed.

Mingyu immediately shoots the idea down, plopping himself back on the sofa all while trying not to glance in the general direction of his room.

This is fine. This is okay. There’s nothing remotely wrong about his best friend’s girlfriend sleeping on his bed even if Wonwoo could’ve just dumped you in his own room instead. He could just play a few games on his PS5 until you woke up on your own or until Wonwoo comes back from his night out. Whichever happens first.

So that’s exactly what Mingyu does.

About an hour of playing through where he left off in his last Elden Ring save file, he’s so engrossed in the cutscene that he doesn’t notice you rising from the comfort of his bed—rubbing your eyes as you look around the room you’re in with mild confusion.

Just when the next boss fight begins, Mingyu is promptly spooked when the cushions dip beneath the weight of another person, letting out an undignified yelp as his eyes dart to the unknown figure wrapping their arms around his bicep—

Then he realizes it’s you.

“Eepy…” you mumble, eyes still drooping as you nuzzle his arm.

Mingyu scowls for a moment. Did you just say eepy?

Fuck, that’s so cute, he muses to himself before forcing his gaze back on the TV before Godrick the Grafted could cleave Mingyu’s character in half with a giant axe.

The daunting in-game OST coupled with the jarring sound-effects of weapons clashing together probably isn’t the best thing to wake up to, but with how you quietly bury yourself in the warmth of his body, Mingyu figures that you probably don’t mind.

He isn’t sure if you’ve decided to continue your nap or watch whatever he’s doing on the screen, given that he’s dedicated much of his attention span in trying not to get killed. But despite having been in the same position as other girls he’s dated before—them clinging to his arm as he plays through some gory open-world RPG—it’s the first time Mingyu has ever felt nervous.

Maybe it’s because you’re a streamer yourself that he doesn’t have it in him to flex his superior gamer prowess like he usually does. But with that thought in mind, shouldn’t he be more inclined to show off? To brag about how he can dodge and parry the enemy’s coordinated attacks effortlessly when Wonwoo can’t even switch his healing items without fumbling with the controls?

Then he remembers that tiny, minuscule crush he has. And the fact that the person he has that tiny, minuscule crush on is snuggling against him like a cat.

Mingyu barely gets to the second phase of the boss fight without his head imploding from vertigo.

“That looks really…gross,” you murmur just when the next cutscene starts and Godrick the Grafted sticks his amputated arm into the corpse of a nearby dragon. So you are watching him play. “Is he trying to assimilate with it or something?”

Mingyu offers up a soft hum. “He grafts his own body parts from other beings to get stronger, so…yeah.”

“Hm. So he’s using a dragon’s head to replace his missing arm?”

“You’re pretty clever for someone who just woke up.”

You huff. “For your information, I don’t just play cutesy games all the time. Who do you think finished Wonwoo’s save file for Dark Souls 3?

Mingyu simpers as he jumps out of the way of Godrick’s flamethrower. “You? Playing Dark Souls, of all things? You don’t have to lie to impress me, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

Before he can let out a teasing laugh, you promptly yank the controller out of Mingyu’s hands—making your boyfriend’s best friend scowl as you take over the boss fight he can very much overcome on his own.

You don’t say a single word as you finish off what’s left of Godrick’s HP bar with more finesse than he’d expect for someone he thought only fucked around on Stardew Valley and Genshin Impact. Your eyes are completely glued on the TV, not even second-guessing the buttons you’re mashing. Mingyu can only watch in quiet awe when the boss belts out his death voicelines, fading into ashes as the ending cutscene comes to a close.

Then, you glance over at Mingyu with a smug look and if he thought he couldn’t be any more infatuated by you, he’s dead wrong.

“Maybe I should start playing games like this on my streams so people like you would start taking me seriously,” you flare before tossing the controller back onto his lap. “But then again I shouldn’t really give a shit about what others think about me.”

There’s a sharpness in your words that makes Mingyu think that it wasn’t just a baseless retort to his earlier jab. That makes him frown.

“What do you mean?” he wonders.

He half-expects you to trade that frown on your face with a sleazy grin in a gotcha moment he’s been unknowingly anticipating. That you’d wave away the seriousness of it all with your cheeky laughter before you’re back to watching him play again.

But it doesn’t come.

You sink further into the couch with a sigh, crossing your arms together as you prop your legs on the coffee table. The fact that you’re wearing nothing but Wonwoo’s shirt makes Mingyu instinctively lead his eyes away from the way the hem rides up your thighs.

“Nothing. Just go back to playing your stupid game.”

Unfortunately for you, Mingyu is having none of it. “Hey, I get that I said something that pissed you off and I’m sorry. But…do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Well…whatever’s bothering you.”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I swear. I’m just feeling a little cranky.”

Oh. Right. Wonwoo mentioned how you hated waking up alone after naps. Well, technically, you weren’t alone. His bedroom door was still wide open when he started playing in the living room, but then again he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to tell what counts as waking up alone and what doesn’t.

“Should I call Wonwoo-hyung?”

“And have him tease me to the ends of the earth when I’m already in a bad mood?” you scoff. “Pass.”

Mingyu considers his options for a moment. You’ve always been quite bubbly and energetic when you’re over at their apartment. This is probably the first time he’s seen you act so grumpy and it’s been a while since he’s dealt with moody girlfriends so he isn’t sure what to make of the situation.

But then a lone thought wanders inside his head.

“Do you…want to go back to bed?”

He wonders if it’s a stupid question. You’re very much awake now that he accidentally tripped on the proverbial land mine that is your emotional disposition. Mingyu is already expecting you to decline, but the hard lines on your faces suddenly soften.

Then, with a quiet and considerably less disgruntled voice:

“I’d like that. Yeah.”

Maybe he should’ve worded his offer better.

By ‘go back to bed’, Mingyu actually meant that he’d help you into Wonwoo’s room—into Wonwoo’s bed—because one: he’s your boyfriend; and two: given that you’re both planning to go to sleep for real, you wouldn’t have to wake up alone anymore since Wonwoo would already be home before morning.

So why the fuck is he staring at the wall right next to his bed with your arm draped around his body as you dozed off behind him? Never mind that you were spooning a six-foot man with considerable body mass. You’re Wonwoo’s girlfriend. You’re not supposed to be sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend’s best friend.

But despite his warring thoughts, Mingyu doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t take any action to convince you to just sleep in Wonwoo’s room instead because that’s what’s right and proper, all things considered.

No, he just lets your hands dip beneath his shirt in your slumber, tracing the lines of his toned stomach every now and again. Mingyu tells himself it must be a habit you picked up from all the times you’ve slept right next to Wonwoo and that your body is just seeking that same kind of comfort in his absence.

You don’t have to know about how he feels himself grow hard when your pert nipples brush against his back every time you shift behind him.

And you definitely don’t have to know that he eventually peeled himself away from your heated embrace to jack himself off in the bathroom before retiring to the couch for the rest of the night.

It’s a secret that he simply has to take to his grave.

“Mingoo-yah, you’re spacing out again.”

Mingyu only feels half as bad as he should be for not listening to Jeonghan when the older man was in the middle of telling him about a brand collaboration offer he’s contemplating on accepting. Being the only two out of their friend group of thirteen to actively take up modeling gigs on the side, he’s close enough with Jeonghan to know he isn’t the kind of person who easily takes offense in things like that.

But one thing Mingyu does know about Jeonghan is that the older’s intuition is much too sharp for anyone’s liking.

“You’ve been inviting me out a lot lately,” Jeonghan remarks as he points the mouth of his beer bottle at Mingyu. “Are you trying to avoid something back at home? Is Wonwoo being an asshole to you?”

The lilt in his words clues Mingyu in on the fact that Jeonghan knows damn well that’s far from the reason that he’s been out of the apartment more frequently these days. He wonders if there’s any use to lying to someone who can see through any sort of farce before letting out a withering sigh.

“Hyung,” he starts, taking a sip out of his own beer as he chooses his words carefully. “Have you…ever wanted something you can’t have?”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Kim Mingyu? Not getting something he wants? My, all those ambassador offers and that long line of men and women alike doing everything they can for a chance to even speak with you would beg to differ.”

Yeah, but those people aren’t my best friend’s girlfriend, Mingyu wants to say but doesn’t, for obvious reasons.

“You’re avoiding the question,” he whines instead.

Jeonghan lets out a soft chuckle before popping one of the bar’s complimentary corn chips into his mouth. “Well, to simply answer that: no. I’ve never wanted anything I can’t have because I always get what I want. All I need is to set my mind on having it and I’ll figure out the rest along the way.”

“But what if… What if I ended up hurting someone if I pursued it?” Mingyu asks, trying his best to make the topic as ambiguous as possible. “That’s the last thing I want to do so the only way I can really deal with it is to just stop wanting it, you know?”

For a moment, Jeonghan doesn’t respond—lazy eyes trained on the younger man as he assesses what he’s been told. His gaze makes Mingyu a little nervous. Has he already ratted himself out? Has Jeonghan already put the pieces together in his head?

“From the way you’re going about all this, getting over it seems like a far cry into the future. And I’m well aware that you’re not a patient man, Mingyu,” he chortles with a shake of his head. “You’re understanding—considerate, even. But if I know you as well as I think I do, then there’s only so much endurance you can exercise when it comes to something you want that badly.

“If you want my advice, then I’ll go ahead and tell you to just negotiate with the person you’re supposedly going to hurt when you finally go after whatever this thing of yours is. If he declines, then you can walk away knowing you tried. If he agrees on some sort of…compromise, then wouldn’t that make you less miserable?”

God. Fuck. Talking to Jeonghan about this was probably the worst decision he’s made in his life. Mingyu wonders if he’d still be saying the same things if he knew exactly what—more precisely, who—they were even talking about.

You’re at their apartment right now, probably snuggled up on the couch again—watching movies while engaging your boyfriend in occasional banter like you usually do. It’s a routine that the two of you have lulled yourselves into ever since you started dating and Mingyu would be a fucking dick for wanting to ruin that all because he can’t deal with the fact that he’s helplessly attracted to you.

He can’t even sleep in his own goddamn bed without his brain going back to the night you lied so peacefully right next to him. Whenever his thoughts start to swim into dangerous territory, Mingyu tries so hard to suppress them by just going to sleep—only to end up fucking his painfully hard cock into his fist before coming all over the sheets with the taste of your name still sizzling on his tongue.

Later that night, a woman in a pretty black dress goes up to him and Jeonghan with a flirtatious strut that Mingyu would’ve latched onto if he was the same man he was a few months prior. She offers to buy them a few cocktails as a treat before leading Mingyu to the dark hallway that led to the dingy bathrooms with an expectant look in her sharply winged eyes.

It doesn’t really take much to get him hard—he’s just a man after all. So when the woman whose name he knows she told him but promptly forgot gets on her knees on the dirty tiled floor, Mingyu thinks it’s perfectly normal for him to let her take his heavy length down her throat for some much needed relief.

What’s not normal is the way he pictures you in her place instead. That it was you deepthroating him like you were born without a gag reflex. You choking so adorably around his length as tears start to make your makeup run in gray streaks across your cheeks. You swallowing every last drop he spills into your awaiting mouth as he catches his breath against the bathroom door.

The woman was probably expecting some reciprocation on Mingyu’s end and while he’s normally a gentleman about these kinds of things, he promptly zips himself back up before leaving her alone in that dirty bathroom without another word.

To his surprise, Jeonghan is still there at their table, tapping away on his phone with a look of mild interest lining his gaze. Mingyu asks him what’s up.

“Wonwoo’s celebrating his birthday this year with everyone,” he chimes. “You would know when Soonyoung’s blowing up gen chat, but you were kind of busy getting your dick wet.”

Now that genuinely takes him by surprise.

While his best friend isn’t some brooding edgelord that thinks celebrating birthdays is overrated, Wonwoo has always preferred commemorating it in intimate spaces. He usually just orders some fancier take out than their usual Chinese fast food and Mingyu buys him a silly cat-themed cake for him to blow out the candles on.

But as Mingyu brings himself up to speed about what went down in their server over the last thirty minutes, he can now confirm that Jeonghan wasn’t bluffing at all.

Wonwoo: Dinner at Jungsik Dang at 7 PM on the 17th. The actual thing starts at 8 but you assholes have a thing for being late all the time.

Soonyoung: nice. i’ll leave my house at 10

Chan: Loser. I’ll leave at midnight

Seungkwan: Maybe you shouldn’t have announced the real time the program starts, hyung.

“You’ll be there, won’t you?”

Jeonghan’s question makes Mingyu look up from the Discord conversation on his phone and into the older man’s eyes. There’s a look he can quite pin down on his face and Mingyu isn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“Of course,” he says, throat tightening for reasons even he can’t name. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mingyu doesn’t really count the time left before Wonwoo’s birthday—much too preoccupied with his own schedules to notice the days passing by. But as busy as he is, at least he doesn’t have to keep inviting Jeonghan out for an excuse to go outside the apartment whenever you’re paying a visit.

If Wonwoo has noticed Mingyu’s evasive behavior, he never really shows it. The older man still greets Mingyu everyday with a curt nod, retreating to his own bedroom before doing his morning streams. Wonwoo seems none the wiser to his best friend’s predicament and Mingyu prefers it that way.

But while it’s much easier to avoid Wonwoo’s scrutiny, you’re an entirely different case.

Mingyu comes home late one evening after a niche fashion event that one of his contacts personally invited him to attend. He doesn’t really get why he even reached out to him, given the fact that Mingyu’s modeling scene is a far cry from whatever haute couture bullshit they’ve got going on there.

The only reason he deigned to show up is because of the stories about the organizer’s after parties that his said contact mentioned in passing. Well, that and the invitation was extended to him on a night you were staying over at their place.

Mingyu is more than a little drunk when he stumbles inside the apartment—kicking his boots off with a huff as his inebriated eyes parse through the dim lights. He sighs, an airy smile gracing his lips as he recalls this evening’s events.

Sure, he enjoys those quiet drinking sessions he shared with Jeonghan just fine, but Mingyu isn’t past admitting that he misses partying like he did when he was still in college. In fact, he actually had the chance to go home with one of the pretty models that took the runway.

She’d been making moony eyes at him all evening and Mingyu would’ve let her whisk him off to whatever five-star accommodation she’s staying in if only he hadn’t promised to guest on Soonyoung’s charity stream the next morning.

So here he is, leaning against the kitchen counter as he drunkenly smiles at the last text his would-be conquest—her name’s Suji—sent five minutes ago. She told him to don’t forget to wash up before you sleep and have fun at your stream tomorrow <3

Suji is adorable. Fun to be with even if Mingyu only spent a total of two hours mingling with her in the high-end afterparty venue. Never did he imagine that a literal supermodel would even be remotely interested in what he does for a living, but the world is full of surprises like that.

In fact, it’s so full of surprises that Mingyu ends up dropping the glass of water in his hand when he sees you emerge from Wonwoo’s bedroom.

“Jeez, Gyu,” you mumble as you stare at the mess he made—hundreds of shards glimmering against the wet floor. “I know you’re clumsy but you never really break things by accident.”

Mingyu swallows thickly, wanting to say that you were the one who surprised him out of nowhere, but his eyes completely zero in on the conspicuous bruises that litter your throat and collarbones like a disconnected necklace.

All it takes is one brief glance at his best friend’s bedroom—to which you left the door completely open—for Mingyu to confirm the suspicions wriggling in the back of his head.

Wonwoo is lying on his stomach, bare back sporting scratch marks that Mingyu has teased him about before while his lower half is completely hidden beneath your favorite weighted blanket. He’s completely still as he sleeps, chest rising and falling with steady breathing.

When Mingyu dares to look at you again, he suddenly forgets about what happened at the afterparty; about Suji and her thoughtful texts.

Because how can he think of anything else when you’re right in front of him, freshly fucked by his best friend?

“What are you—?! Mingyu!”

He doesn’t listen when you scold him for picking up the bigger glass shards off the floor with his bare hands. He needs to focus on everything but your pebbled nipples peeking through the fabric of Wonwoo’s shirt. The hem fluttering across your bare thighs. The way your face is still flushed with sleep and what Mingyu presumes is that post-orgasmic haze.

Because if he doesn’t, he might just end up doing something he’ll regret for a lifetime and more.

But it’s just as you said earlier—Mingyu is clumsy; even more so when he’s had way too many Jägerbombs than his tolerance can actually handle. So he isn’t really surprised when one of the sharp edges splits the skin of his hand open, blood quickly seeping through the wound as he unceremoniously drops the shards he collected on the kitchen island with a hiss.

“You’re such a big idiot,” you groan before marching off to the bathroom.

When you come back with the first-aid kit that Mingyu himself had stocked when he and Wonwoo moved in, the first thing that comes to mind is how you’re pretty much a regular fixture in their home now. You know where the first-aid kit is. You know where Mingyu keeps the brooms and mops and dustpans. You know that he doesn’t like leaving messes in the house even if it’s a mess that Mingyu himself was responsible for making.

You’ve inserted yourself seamlessly into his and Wonwoo’s daily lives and Mingyu isn’t certain how long he can keep pretending that isn’t the case.

“Just leave the shards be,” you grumble before dragging him off to the sink. “Let’s clean it up after I clean you up.”

Mingyu remains silent as you apply ample pressure on the wound, listening to you mutter about how the bleeding has to stop first before it can be disinfected. He doesn’t really process much of what you have to say—too caught up in how his pulse roars in his ears from the way your fingers press firmly against his own.

He’s vaguely aware of his phone buzzing every now and again where he left it on the counter, but Mingyu doesn’t even feel the least bit apologetic for leaving Suji hanging more than he already has.

Right now, you’re the only one that matters.

“Alright, I think it clotted pretty nicely,” you observe with a small, relieved smile as you lift the piece of cotton you used to stem the bleeding. “Go wash your hands, big boy. Sit with me on the couch after so I can wrap a bandage around it.”

If he was even the slightest bit sober, Mingyu would’ve huffed and insisted that he can do that by himself. It’s not like he sliced off his entire arm like he did with Godrick the Grafted when you watched him play Elden Ring a few weeks back.

But Mingyu isn’t sober and all his stupid, drunk brain is telling him is to do as you say because he knows it’ll make you less worried.

Your touch is weighted with tenderness as you patch up the gash on Mingyu’s finger. There are no sordid remarks about his carelessness to be said—only the implicit concern that permeates off your being and rings in his ears. But even if Mingyu’s head is still swimming with liquor, he’s empathic enough to be able to tell that him dropping a glass of water isn’t the only thing you’re upset about tonight.

“Gyu, did I do something wrong?” you murmur, smoothing your thumb across the bandage once it’s in place. “You’ve been avoiding us a lot lately.”

He finds your choice of words a little…interesting.

Of course, Mingyu wouldn’t put it past you to notice that he’s been noticeably absent in the apartment these days. But for you to assume that it’s because of something you alone have done and not include Wonwoo in the narrative? You know him so well, it makes his chest burn with an emotion he can’t name.

Or maybe he’s just really fucking drunk.

“Why would I be avoiding you?” Mingyu chuckles, resting the back of his head against the cushions as he stares at the ceiling in a pathetic attempt at playing it cool. “I’ve just been a little busy is all. Don’t tell me Wonwoo-hyung misses me or something.”

“Maybe. But what if I miss you, too?”

The silence that follows is a little too loud in Mingyu’s ears.

You can’t do that. You can’t ask him questions that he doesn’t know the answer to.

Mingyu isn’t sure which robs him of coherent thought more: you in killer outfits and flawless makeup or you in one of Wonwoo’s old white shirts, barefaced and vulnerable as you scrutinize him with a pleading look in the middle of their living room.

He wishes he could just go back to the time when he just knew you as an up-there Twitch streamer that he suspected his best friend was fucking around with. Things were much simpler when Mingyu was merely a spectator in Wonwoo's complicated love life. But now, he’s slowly getting to know you past all the sexy cat girl cosplay and the fanservice. Past the back-and-forth banter with your boyfriend that Mingyu was once content with observing from the sidelines.

Did Wonwoo suffer through the same kind of epiphany before you started dating? It’s no secret that your boyfriend had a stick up his ass when it came to acknowledging how he felt about you, but Mingyu doesn’t fault him for it. He knows damn well that there’s just something about you that attracts people like magnets with polar ends.

People like Wonwoo and Mingyu who are helpless to your unknowing charm.

But the difference between him and his best friend is that Mingyu has no right to feel the way he does. He’s lucky enough to get to see sides of you that you’d never show to your subscribers and he told himself that he’ll never pursue anything past that—no matter how badly he wants to.

Yet the fact remains that Mingyu is just a man too drunk to deal with all of this right now, and you’re playing your cards a little too well, whether you know it or not.

“You’re saying that you miss me when hyung is already giving you splendid company?” Mingyu laughs airily, letting his eyes flutter shut because if he holds your gaze any longer, he might just combust right there. “You wouldn’t be hanging out here so much if he wasn’t, right?”

You’re quiet for a moment, eyes boring into Mingyu as if you’re looking for something he’s desperately trying to hide. He loathes and loves how perceptive you are, but if he isn’t careful, he might end up jeopardizing your friendship for good.

Then quietly, you ask:

“Have you not considered that maybe I hang out here a lot because of you?”

Before the words can even settle inside his head, you flatten your palms against his thigh, leaning in so close, Mingyu is certain you hear the way his breath hitches. Your eyes crinkle in the dim lights as you offer up a smile with just a little more intent than he’d expect you to show.

When Mingyu’s gaze flickers to the collection of love bites you’ve amassed on your neck, his traitorous brain wonders how it would feel like to sink his teeth into your skin. To litter your throat with his marks, to have you writhing against his touch.

“I could always just invite Wonwoo to my place, no?” you murmur, each word making the back of Mingyu’s neck prickle with heat. “But I insist on coming over here instead ‘cause I actually like hanging out with my boyfriend’s best friend.”

Then, as if his entire world was plunged into slow motion, you press your lips closer to Mingyu’s ear—one hand braced against his firm chest as he feels you grin against his lobe.

“After all, we make such a good team. Right, Gyugyu?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—

“We do make a good team. See? You patched me all up!” Mingyu laughs heartily before begrudgingly peeling himself away from your touch. “I’m a little sleepy though. Do you want to help me clean up or not?”

He knows he’s overcompensating, but if he doesn’t get away from you now…

Mingyu doesn’t even want to know what he’ll do.

When he deigns to look at you again, the heated look in your eyes hasn’t dissipated. You even make a fucking show of swiping your tongue across your bottom lip, staring up at your boyfriend’s best friend like you want to just…eat him up.

But that can’t be right. He’s seen how enamored you are with Wonwoo.

You couldn’t possibly be…

“I’m a little sleepy too,” you admit, stifling a yawn that’s obviously fake. “I think I’ve already helped you enough for tonight, big guy. You go clean up that little mess you made ‘cause I’m going back to bed.”

Back to Wonwoo’s side—Mingyu reminds himself firmly.

He doesn’t really have to be told twice, nodding in agreement as he shuffles over to the kitchen and grabs the cleaning paraphernalia you were kind enough to bring out earlier. The dull ache in Mingyu’s temples makes it easy for him to do everything in silence. But of course that’s the last thing you’ll willingly give to him.

“By the way,” you start, twisting your torso halfway around to face him. The action makes Wonwoo’s shirt ride even further up your thighs and Mingyu fears he’ll have to clean up another growing mess in his jeans if he wants to get some sleep tonight.

“Suji’s been texting you non-stop. It would be rude to just keep her hanging, no?”

Figurative alarm bells start going off inside his head as his mouth hangs loose. You flash him a grin that’s much too smug for him to miss, greeting him good night, Mingyu before shutting the door to Wonwoo’s room behind you.

When he’s just about done throwing the glass shards in the trash and mopping up the water he splashed all over the floor, he retreats into the comfort of his own bedroom. He doesn’t reply to any of Suji’s text messages even after he gets changed into more comfortable clothes.

Not when he’s now fully aware that you know.

You know that he’s got the hots for you. You know that he’d drop any other semi-attractive person he’s using to distract himself the moment you throw him scraps of your attention. He feels like a helpless fucking puppy with how easy it is for you to unknowingly lead him by the nose.

Here we have another one of Mingyu’s many dilemmas in life. The object of his frustrated affections, the person he wants the most might just want him back.

The issue? Her boyfriend—his best friend—has no fucking clue.

Vernon isn’t someone that Mingyu frequently hangs out with. Out of all the three other GAM3 BO1s, the youngest is probably the one that he spends time with the least. But that doesn’t mean that Mingyu enjoys his company less than the company of his other friends. In hindsight, Vernon could easily be his favorite of the younger streamers in their entire friend group.

So when Vernon asks him for some tips on making his own gym routine, Mingyu sees no problem in showing up to give his friend some advice.

Surprisingly enough, when Mingyu arrives in his and Wonwoo’s usual place, he spots Seungkwan in the waiting lounge with Vernon as well.

“What came over you guys when you suddenly decided that you wanted to work out?” Mingyu laughs as he leads the odd pair to the locker rooms. “When we last asked about it on the server, most of you were being such prissy little shits about it.”

“Hey, we so work out!” Seungkwan complains with a huff. “We just don’t go to the gym. Get your facts straight, Kim Mingyu.”

As things are, Vernon wants to build his core strength while Seungkwan wants to focus on cardio. He tries his best to instruct them as effectively as he can all while getting his usual routine over with. Mingyu was supposed to try adding more weights to his deadlifts but with his attention divided between his two friends, he figures that he shouldn’t risk accidentally dropping a 150-kilograms’ worth of weights on his feet.

They’re all absorbed in their own work for about thirty minutes until Seungkwan eventually hops off the treadmill and collapses dramatically on the matted floor.

“I need a water break,” he wheezes and Mingyu laughs as he offers him a bottle.

During their quick break, Vernon whips out his phone and puts on a Twitch stream for the three of them to watch. Curiously, Mingyu peers at the screen, only to feel his stomach plummet to the pit of his stomach when he realizes whose stream it is.

Seungkwan scoffs. “There he goes again, watching Koyahngi like a closeted fan.”

“Hey, she’s playing Xenoblade Chronicles 3 today and told me to watch ‘cause I’m like, the biggest Xenoblade junkie on the server,” Vernon explains coolly while wiping off the sweat on his face.

Mingyu frowns. “Xenoblade? On a PC?”

“Yeah. She’s using an emulator.”

“That’s illegal, isn’t it? Won’t she get in trouble for live streaming it or something?”

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Seungkwan sighs as he splays his legs across the mat for a quick stretch. “You of all people should know that pretty girls like our dearest Koyahngi can get away with absolutely everything. It’s part of her charm!”

Vernon elbows Seungkwan in the stomach, to which the latter reacts with another dramatized gesture as if he’d been shot instead. Mingyu lets them banter between themselves for a few moments—choosing to focus on the stream instead.

You’re still in the middle of preparing the game you’re supposed to play on an illegal platform, dressed to the nines in full Mythra cosplay. Of course, a pair of cat ears that match the entire fit sits comfortably on your head—as is your signature look in all outfits.

“Oh wait, is Vernon here?” you muse out loud as you squint at the chat. “If you guys watch his stuff, you’ll know how crazy he is about Xenoblade, so I invited him as a special guest! Say hi to everyone for me, yeah?”

Vernon is so quick to snatch his phone to type in hi o/~~ in the chat, it even startles Mingyu.

“There he is!” You giggle. “We should collaborate on another game sometime, yeah? Sucks that Xenoblade doesn’t allow you to coop.”

Out loud, Vernon snorts. “Yeah, I won’t be doing that.”

“Why not?” Mingyu asks, genuinely curious. “She seems cool with it.”

“Are you crazy? Wonwoo-hyung will kill me,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “I know I’m the one who introduced her to the friend group, but we all know how Wonwoo-hyung is with her. If she was my girlfriend, I’d gatekeep her from the rest of the world, too. Maybe.”

The words ring in Mingyu’s ears like a stern reminder he should’ve heeded a long time ago.

It’s no secret that Wonwoo is a little…possessive over you. He might even be acting as your pseudo-mod right this second—watching the chat like a hawk before doing public lashings for any weirdos brave enough to send anything inappropriate.

He wonders how Wonwoo would react if he knew about that chance encounter he shared with you a few nights prior…

“True,” Seungkwan agrees before rising back to his feet with a hop. “The only person he’ll probably be cool with handing Koyahngi over to is Mingyu-hyung.”

His friend says those words while he’s in the middle of taking a huge gulp of water. It nearly goes down his windpipe when he makes a surprised noise, but thankfully Mingyu manages to not sputter out his drink all over Vernon’s face.

“What?” he asks raspily when he collects himself. “Why me?”

“Uh, maybe because he’s alright with letting you touch and hug her anytime, but we get warning glares whenever we get close to her?”

Warning what? He’s got to be lying. Wonwoo is crazy possessive, but he does not glare at his friends just because they’re being affectionate to you.

Right?

Begrudgingly, Vernon nods at his side. “Mhmm. I think it has something to do with you guys living together for years now. You’ve shared practically everything up to this point, right?”

Mingyu scowls at them both. “You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, right?”

“What are you—oh,” Seungkwan trails off with his face reddening upon realizing. “I didn’t mean he’d be down to share his girlfriend with you like that! But hey, if Wonwoo-hyung is into it, then you’re probably the only person he’ll consider accepting.”

“Agreed,” Vernon chimes. “Anyway, are we going back to work? I can watch her stream while I’m doing crunches just fine.”

As the three of them disperse back to their own corners in the gym, Mingyu finds himself mulling over that earlier conversation with Vernon and Seungkwan. They’re both aware of Wonwoo’s territorial nature, but openly admitted that when it comes to Mingyu, things might be a little different.

Which doesn’t help his case at all. Because how the fuck is he supposed to move past his feelings now? Not only did you implicitly reciprocate his interest the other night to some degree, but now he’s got his other friends unknowingly rooting for him too.

Mingyu breathes in deeply as he tries lifting 75 kilogram weights on each side of the bar all while thinking back to Jeonghan’s advice to just negotiate.

Do his friends’ words have any truth to them? Will Wonwoo actually agree if…if—

“Fuck,” Mingyu grumbles when he feels the force of the barbell’s weight flaring up his arms and muscles. But at the same time he realizes that it’s impossible to ask Wonwoo about what he wants because…

He can’t just tell him, hey hyung, how would you feel if I fucked your girlfriend? Wonwoo would probably chase him out of the apartment with a knife if he did. Worse, he’d end more than fifteen years’ worth of friendship and Mingyu loses not only that hair-strand thin chance of getting with you but also his best friend.

That’s not a risk he thinks he’s foolish enough to take.

As some sort of punishment, Mingyu forces himself to bear the barbell’s weight for about ten seconds before letting it drop back to the floor—the fibers of his muscles screaming in agony with what he just put them through.

He probably, definitely deserves more than that though.

“Mingyu! You’re late!”

Soonyoung’s jarring voice is the first thing that greets Mingyu when he finally arrives at the restaurant. The tall man is immediately surrounded by his friends—getting roughhoused for being tardy on his best friend’s special day. He lets out an easygoing laugh to brush off their teasing, eyes observing the private room Wonwoo rented for the occasion.

“What took you so long, man?!” Seokmin complains, throttling Mingyu by the lapels of his iron-pressed suit jacket. “You’re the one who always brings out the cake for Wonwoo, remember? Seungcheol-hyung nearly set the entire cake on fire earlier.”

“Fondant icing can’t catch fire, you ditz,” the eldest of their group scoffs. “Anyway, we might as well do the toast since Mingyu’s finally here.”

As his pack of rowdy friends ushers themselves back into their seats, Mingyu lets his gaze rove around again. On the end of the long, fancy dining table he spots the birthday boy waving over at him with a small smile. Right next to Wonwoo is, of course, you—flashing him a grin with those ruby red lips as your eyes crinkle with a smile that haunts him with his eyes closed.

If Mingyu came clean and said that you were the reason he almost didn’t show up to his own best friend’s birthday dinner, would everyone else in this room hate him for it?

Probably.

Once everyone is settled into their seats, Mingyu gets served a full-course meal by the waiters bussing around the private enclosure. Everyone else was already halfway through dessert and they’re now being poured generous amounts of whatever champagne Seungkwan boasted about buying for Wonwoo as a birthday present.

“C’mon, birthday toast!” Seungkwan announces obnoxiously loud as he eggs everyone on to raise their glasses. “So who’s going to do the honors and kiss Wonwoo-hyung’s ass for tonight?”

“Shouldn’t the latecomer do the honors?” Minghao suggests with a sleazy look. “Besides, he’s Wonwoo-hyung’s best friend anyways.”

“Asshole,” Mingyu mutters under his breath before swallowing a mouthful of his food and grabbing his champagne glass. “Uh, there’s nothing much to say. Wonwoo-hyung already knows everything I want to tell him.”

“Boo!” Chan yells from the other end. “You’re so lame, hyung. How would you feel if your best friend used that as your birthday greeting, huh?”

Joshua makes a noise in agreement. “Mingyu-yah, I’m sure there’s at least some things you want to tell him, right?”

With all eyes on him now, Mingyu feels himself flush several shades red. Goddammit.

He forcibly meets Wonwoo’s expectant stare from the other side of the table, appeased by the warm look in his best friend’s eyes. That’s right…

Asking Wonwoo if he can have just one chance with his girlfriend is ridiculous and impossible. But saying nice things about his best friend? That’s always been Mingyu’s forte. Even if Wonwoo threatens to break his PS5 every three business days whenever the younger man pisses him off on purpose.

“This hyung of mine has grown a lot over the last decade and more. Not that being introverted is a bad thing or anything, but it’s nice seeing him become more outgoing and interactive with people outside our circle,” Mingyu starts with a small yet genuine smile. “Our dream of playing games for a living is all too real now. But for Wonwoo-hyung, he’s a brilliant professional who’s going to be scouted on the Worlds team roster pretty soon, I’m sure.”

“Now you’re just lying to my face to gas me up,” Wonwoo chuckles.

He gestures for him to quiet down. “Ah! You guys wanted me to talk so let me finish talking!”

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Jihoon comments. “This guy says five hundred words per minute depending on how much alcohol he’s got in his system.”

“We’ll all end up going home super late at this rate,” Jun chuckles with a shake of his head.

Mingyu pouts for a moment but his friends eventually cut him some slack—keeping their teasing jabs to themselves first to let him finish his impromptu speech.

“As I was saying,” the part time model huffs, “You’re an amazing player and an equally amazing friend. You always put up with everyone’s antics even if we all know you’d prefer peace and quiet. You’re the one who makes life just a little more bearable for me. And even if you don’t really show it much, we know how much you actually love each one of us.

“So… Happy Birthday, Wonwoo-hyung. Please live happily and healthily for the next hundred years because I’m afraid that they’ll only release Dark Souls 4 by then.”

Once he’s concluded what he has to say, everyone at the table cheers—not for Wonwoo, but for how concise Mingyu’s birthday speech is. Those little shits.

Either way, they all raise a toast for today’s celebrant—Soonyoung singing an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday on the top of his lungs as they all clinked champagne glasses together. Mingyu’s grinning from ear-to-ear as he watches his friends mess around with each other as per usual, thinking how he’ll never want any other constants in his life as long as they’re by his side.

But in the middle of all the commotion, his gaze tunnels into his best friend.

Wonwoo is in the middle of talking to you with a loving smile on his lips. Mingyu is a little too far away to make sense of what you’re talking about, but you do lean closer to press a firm kiss on your boyfriend’s lips.

He can’t really name the emotion that prickles in his chest at the sight of it. The closest thing would probably be jealousy but it doesn’t sound quite fitting. Mingyu doesn’t really wish for his best friend to be out of the picture so he could be on the receiving end of your sweet kisses.

It’s more like…he just wants you to give some to him too.

But after weeks and weeks of fighting against his fatal attraction to you, he’s grown quite exhausted from all the senseless overthinking. Mingyu is now waving the white flag of surrender—ready to bury these feelings in the past where they belong.

After all, he’d never trade all the years he’s spent with Wonwoo for a woman he’ll get over in no time. He’s better than that.

Until he’s not.

Mingyu doesn’t really know how it happened, when it started, and why he even let things get this far.

Wonwoo was generous enough to book everyone their own rooms in the hotel just across the famous restaurant he decided to treat them in. It was mostly for Soonyoung because they all know how that man can hardly handle his liquor. But still, it’s nice to be spoiled by the most stoic out of their friend group every now and again.

Before retreating to his own room, Mingyu decided to catch some fresh air on the open balcony on the tenth floor. The breeze blew past his face nice and easy, making him feel more relaxed than he has in the last few months.

But then you swooped down on him like an angel of death.

It’s been a while since he talked to you one-on-one like this. The last time was probably the night he split his hand open and you had to patch him up.

Mingyu is apprehensive during the entire course of the conversation, which is weird because he’s always felt comfortable in your company. It’s his stupid fucking feelings making things weird for him.

If only he could just wake up one day and things were back to the way they were.

He hoped it would just be one of those regular conversations where you’d eventually excuse yourself to look for Wonwoo. Mingyu can handle that. He can pretend to be fine in the face of others even if he’s rotting from the inside out because of how badly he wants to tear that lovely dress off of you. That’s something he’s always been good at.

However, when he’s in the middle of telling you a story about how Soonyoung betted a large amount of in-game Valorant currency on the possibility of you and Wonwoo dating back then, you bring a single finger to Mingyu’s lips.

“Aren’t you tired of this, Gyu?” you sigh, pouting at him so tantalizingly with your perfect red lips as you bring your hand down.

His brows furrow together, not quite catching what you’re trying to say. “T-Tired of what?”

The corners of your mouth pull up into a pretty smile that’s wearing down his defenses faster than he’d like it to. “Of this game of push and pull, silly. I’ve been trying to get you to sleep with me for ages, but you’re such a good puppy, aren’t you? Never taking anything you want unless someone gives it to you.”

Mingyu can hardly believe his ears.

“You’ve been trying to…what?” His mouth drops into a disbelieving look. “I— You— You can’t be serious. What do you mean you want to sleep with me? You have a boyfriend.”

You make a sound of affirmation before leaning closer to him by the rails, tugging on the lapels of his jacket to pull him flush against you. Mingyu has to physically bite down a groan at the feel of your perky tits pushed into his chest.

“I do, but that’s not important right now,” you giggle as you let your fingers trail up the curve of his neck. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Gyu? I see the way you look at me, you know. You have a bad case of wandering eye especially when I prance around your apartment wearing nothing but Wonwoo’s shirts. I didn’t expect you to hold out for this long honestly.”

The fact that you have a boyfriend isn’t important right now? And you’ve been deliberately seducing him all this goddamn time?

What the ever-loving fuck?

Mingyu still remembers how you looked into Wonwoo’s eyes earlier after the birthday toast. The love and adoration laced in your gaze…was that completely fake? Were you just using his best friend so you could get to him?

That’s not right. He at least knows the abridged version of yours and Wonwoo’s love story. Despite how unpredictable you can be, Mingyu refuses to believe that you’ll willingly put yourself through all that if you didn’t love Wonwoo in the first place. If he’s the one you’ve wanted all along.

But the fight in him has been fading day by day. Mingyu thought he was closer to accepting the fact that he’ll never really have you the way he wants to. But in truth, he’s on the complete opposite side of the spectrum.

It’s just the way things were before—Kim Mingyu will come running once you drop him scraps of your affection.

“Do you want to kiss me, Gyu?” you murmur, lips ghosting across his own.

No. He wants to say no. He needs to say no.

“Yes,” Mingyu breathes instead, a thousand sparks igniting in his chest as he stares at the plump curve of your lips. “God, fuck yes.”

You make a show of dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him with so much desire in your eyes, he nearly melts from the intensity of it.

“Okay, big boy,” you giggle before taking his hand in a firm grip. “Not here though.”

The short trip back to your hotel room is swift. Mingyu doesn’t think about anything else but the feel of your soft skin cradling his large hand in yours. He doesn’t even wonder where the fuck Wonwoo is during this entire thing. All that matters is the fact that this is real and this is happening.

If things go the way he assumes they will in his head, he’ll finally get to have you for himself.

That’s the exact thought that makes the blood in Mingyu’s veins come alive with heady arousal—tapping his feet on the carpeted floor of the hallway as you scan your keycard on the lock of your hotel room. You giggle at his impatience tugging him into the room by his necktie before the door clicks shut behind him.

Mingyu doesn’t waste any time. He quickly crowds you against the wall of the narrow hallway entrance, hands on your hips as he crushes his lips with yours like your kiss was air itself. You moan into his mouth before hooking your thigh around his hips to let him grind his hardening length against your middle.

“You have no fucking idea how badly I want you,” he hisses between kisses, migrating to your neck to continue his onslaught against your skin. “Always walking around the house barely dressed. You were daring enough to rub the fact that Wonwoo-hyung just fucked you in my face last time too. Did you want me to fuck you the same way that night?”

“Mmm… Gyu,” you moan as he sucks on the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “Y-Yeah… Wanted you to stuff me with your cock when Nonu’s cum was still dripping out of me. Does that make me a dirty girl?”

“It does, princess.”

Mingyu knows himself to be a person that’s easily spooked. It’s for that reason that Soonyoung likes popping out of nowhere just to do that. The reason Seungcheol likes intimidating him with a single look whenever Mingyu pushes his buttons. But it takes a lot to genuinely scare him.

Hearing Wonwoo’s voice on the other side of this room, apparently, is enough to make the color drain from his entire face.

Wonwoo is seated on a reading chair propped by the windows with the curtains drawn, scrolling through his phone with a bored look like the sight of his girlfriend being pushed against a wall by his best friend is something that doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

“H-Hyung,” Mingyu stutters, swallowing thickly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

His roommate chuckles. “Mingyu, you just admitted out loud that you want to fuck my girlfriend. This is exactly what it looks like.”

“Mmm, big puppy’s being so silly,” you giggle as you inch your thighs apart, poking the tip of Mingyu’s nose with your finger. “He’s been fighting himself all this time and now when he can finally have me, he chickens out again. What do we do with him, daddy?”

…Daddy?

Wonwoo hums almost theatrically as he crosses his legs on the chair, smirking at the two of you like…like—

“Did you two plan this?” Mingyu asks incredulously, trying his best not to get distracted by your cleavage peeking from the low cut of your dress. “Hyung, why do you seem so…”

“Comfortable with the thought of you railing my girl well into the next day?” Wonwoo supplies and Mingyu winces at his crass wording. Well, he is right but— “Because I am, Mingyu. But since you’re a little slow on the uptake sometimes, she’ll spell it out for you in a way that leaves no room for misunderstandings.”

As if on cue, you give Mingyu’s necktie another firm tug, forcing the tall man to look at you with a bewildered look. You bat your lashes at him with a disarming smile before pulling him closer so that your faces are leveled.

“I told Wonwoo that I really want to know what it feels to have you inside me, Gyugyu,” you whisper. “If I mentioned any other guy, he probably would’ve killed them ‘cause he’s possessive like that. He’s only alright with it ‘cause it’s you.”

“And she’s been seducing you for a while now. It really is a mystery how you managed to hold out that long when she had me wrapped around her finger in no time,” Wonwoo adds with a chuckle. “You’re better than me, it seems.”

Mingyu’s gaze keeps alternating between you and his best friend—unable to completely wrap his head around the idea that not only are you actually into him, but Wonwoo gave your sick fantasies his blessing beforehand.

“You…” He breathes in deeply before turning to Wonwoo again. “You want me to fuck your girlfriend? On your birthday?”

The older man shrugs. “This could’ve happened much sooner if you weren’t so dense, Mingyu. But if that bothers you so much, then just think of it as another treat from me.”

“Gyu,” you whine, practically rubbing yourself against his thick thigh. “Stop thinking and just fuck me already, yeah? Doesn’t my big puppy want to feel me wrapped around his cock? I promise it’ll feel so much better than your hand.”

Oh. Oh.

Mingyu isn’t sure what to focus on first—you calling him your big puppy or the fact that they know he’s been jacking off religiously to the thought of sinking his length into your wet heat. But it’s just as you said.

Mingyu should really just stop fucking thinking.

All the time he spends at the gym is put to good use when he effortlessly picks you up by your thighs and migrates to the mattress. You let out an adorable little squeal when he gently lays you on top of the sheets and Mingyu has to keep himself from moaning at the sight of you splayed out so prettily for him.

“Are you just going to watch?” he asks Wonwoo without looking back at him, unable to tear his gaze away from you as you tug your dress down to reveal your tits. “I’d feel a little terrible if that’s the case.”

Wonwoo barks out a laugh. “Just a little?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu whispers before shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Just a little.”

That’s how he ends up with his face buried between your soft thighs, tongue working on your glistening slit as your fingers tangle themselves in his mussed hair. The noises spilling senselessly from your lips are like music to his ears—egging him on to pick you apart with his tongue and fingers all while your boyfriend watches diligently from his seat.

Eating pussy while Wonwoo acts as a willing audience is honestly the last thing on Mingyu’s lifetime bucket list, but he knows very well that life’s full of surprises.

“Your tongue feels so good, puppy,” you whimper, thighs pressing against the sides of Mingyu’s head as he slurps at your dripping cunt. “More please. Gyu, I wanna come on your face so bad—oh!”

He smirks against your sensitive flesh when you jolt at the sensation of him sliding his thick fingers inside your hole—two right away because you’re already so wet and ready for him.

“She can take three, Gyu,” he hears Wonwoo chime in from behind. “Four if you’re feeling a little generous.”

The idea of taking more of his digits seems to excite you more than Mingyu expected. He feels you tighten around the fingers already inside you and he groans before suckling on your clit with unparalleled fervor.

He does just as Wonwoo says—sliding in a third finger as he stretches your gummy walls open. You have all the time in the world and he isn’t in too much of a rush to make you take as many digits as he can give you. As things stand, you’re already on the verge of being fucked out of your mind from the way his mouth works on your needy pussy alone.

“Mingyu!” you gasp when he crooks his fingers just so, making your back arch off the mattress so sexily, he has to resist the urge to rise and give you a long, sloppy kiss. “Fuck, fuck, right there! Feels so good, puppy. Give me more.”

He fucking loves it when you call him puppy and he doesn’t really know what that says about him. It’s not like Mingyu can bring himself to care though—not when you’re grinding your sopping cunt against his mouth like he’s your own personal toy.

“Shit, princess. You’re not this demanding when I eat you out,” Wonwoo groans.

“T-That’s cause—ahn, Mingyu…” A surge of pride momentarily fills his chest when he renders you unable to manage a coherent response. “You’re my daddy and he’s my puppy. I can boss my puppy around, right, Gyugyu?”

While Mingyu is just now getting to know what sort of dynamic you and Wonwoo have in the bedroom, he doesn’t really have any qualms about what you’ve decided on for him. He merely nods a bit too eagerly, unceasing on his onslaught of tongue and fingers. Your body is wracked with another full shiver when the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit, sparing him another beautiful moan that goes straight to his cock.

“‘m so close, puppy,” you cry out, riding his face as you squeeze your breasts in the hand not tangled in his hair. “Mouth’s so fucking good to me. Love how you eat me out s’much, Gyu.”

He doesn’t notice how he’s nearly rutting his hips into the bed in a desperate attempt at giving himself some much-needed friction. Your eyes flutter closed as your body stutters to a stop, shuddering as your orgasm finally washes over you.

Mingyu growls as he slips his fingers out of your quivering hole, burying his tongue inside your cunt as you ride out your high. You buck your hips against his mouth and he’s much too eager to place his hands on your ass as you come back down to earth.

To his surprise, you bounce back from that mind-shattering orgasm much quicker than he thought. Right when you stop trembling in his grasp, you’re quick to pull Mingyu up to have a taste of yourself on his lips—tongue swirling with his own as the tangy flavor spreads across the appendage.

“Want your cock next, Gyu,” you breathe against his mouth, eyes hooded with desire. “You’ll give it to me, won’t you?”

He’d be the biggest idiot in the world if he refused.

You quickly reposition yourself on the mattress, crawling towards the edge of the bed while glancing over at your boyfriend—still watching the show the both of you are putting up for him. Mingyu was so lost in the sensation of you grinding your pussy on his face, he nearly forgot Wonwoo was even in the room.

“Daddy, want yours too,” you whimper all while pushing your ass back for Mingyu’s enjoyment, the multitasker you are. “Can I suck you off?”

“Feeling greedy all of a sudden?” Wonwoo chuckles. “Do you really think you can take two cocks at the same time, princess? Are you that much of a cockhungry slut?”

You nod, too high on arousal to give a shit. “Uh-huh.”

Fuck. Why was that so hot?

Despite how he initially reacted, Wonwoo gets up from his seat and pads over closer to you. Meanwhile, Mingyu takes his aching length out of his tight trousers—breathing a sigh in relief as he pumps his cock a few times.

He feels like he should feel unnerved about taking his dick out in front of Wonwoo, but then again this isn’t something he hasn’t seen before. The college dorm bathrooms were an interesting place, but then again this is the first time he’s actually let his best friend get a look at his cock when it’s fully hard.

The sound of him jerking himself makes you glance behind you and he swears hearts nearly dance in the pupils of your eyes when your gaze zeros in on his dick.

“You’re so fucking huge,” you groan as Mingyu rubs his length along your ass. “Daddy, you’ve got a best friend with such a pretty fucking cock and you didn’t even bother telling me? You’re mean…”

The laugh that rumbles in Wonwoo’s chest betrays the fact that he’s a little ticked off with what you just said. “Baby, I’m already doing a lot for you by letting Gyu fuck you open. Keep abusing your pretty privilege even more, and I’ll fuck your mouth until you can’t say ridiculous things.”

Of course, Wonwoo’s threat garners the exact opposite of his intended reaction. Mingyu feels your slick gush out of your entrance at the prospect of being used by your boyfriend in such a demeaning way and he sighs with disbelief.

“Hyung,” he calls out as you work on Wonwoo’s belt and zipper. “Do I need to wear a condom or…?”

His best friend hums momentarily. “That’s up to her. What do you say, baby? Do you want to feel Mingyu’s monster cock raw or not?”

You pause from undoing Wonwoo’s pants to turn around once more, taking Mingyu’s heavy length in your hand as you practically salivate over it. Then, with careful movements, you guide his cockhead to your gaping entrance and Mingyu nearly comes right then and there.

“Wanna get pumped full of your cum, puppy,” you mewl. “Need your big cock to stretch me out so bad. You want that too, right?”

Of fucking course he wants it.

You let out a choked up noise when Mingyu eases himself inside you—trying his damn hardest to not just shove his entire length into you in one go. Wonwoo smirks at your reaction before taking out his own cock.

Mingyu isn’t one to compare dicks with his friends, but he’s got to say that Wonwoo is definitely well-endowed. It’s no wonder that you were fucking around with him for as long as you were before finally dating the guy.

But Mingyu pushes all thoughts about that in the back of his mind, relishing in the feeling of your tight, warm cunt enveloping him in delicious heat. He groans when he manages to bury himself to the hilt—cock pulsating with each second that passes.

“Take daddy’s cock down your throat while you let your cute little puppy fuck you stupid,” Wonwoo instructs as you open your mouth to do as you’re told. Then, when your boyfriend is sure you’ve adjusted well to Mingyu’s size, he meets his best friend’s gaze and gives him a minute nod. “Go ahead, Gyu.”

“Fuck my girlfriend just like you dreamed of doing.”

Never in Mingyu’s wildest dreams would he imagine getting to hear those words straight out of Wonwoo’s mouth, but he isn’t about to waste any more time processing the information. He simply pulls his hips back—letting you feel every inch of his engorged cock—before slamming back into you with enough force to drive Wonwoo’s dick further into your mouth.

Your moan is promptly silenced with your boyfriend’s length and Mingyu hisses as he palms at the swell of your ass.

He’d hate to bust his load when it hasn’t even been five minutes since he’d slid himself inside you. But your pussy flutters around him so fucking good that he has to breathe in deeply to keep himself from coming too early.

“Gyu, look at me.”

Mingyu’s momentarily puzzled by Wonwoo’s request, but he complies with a look of inquiry in his eyes. He then notices that his roommate is holding your hair up with one hand as you bob your head up and down and his phone in the other.

“We kind of have this…thing where we film ourselves during sex,” he explains. “Is it okay if I do that now? The footage will strictly stay between the three of us.”

Fuck. You film sex tapes with Wonwoo? Mingyu didn’t know it was even possible, but he just got harder inside you.

“I-I don’t mind,” he manages to wrench out. “God, please airdrop it to me after, hyung.”

“You want a POV shot of her sucking you off, huh? Got it.” Wonwoo simpers as he unlocks his phone, tilting it high enough to get a good view of you with his cock in your mouth as Mingyu pounds you from behind.

“What a pretty thing, getting fucked by two cocks at the same time,” he chuckles as he records the entire ordeal. “How can you ever go back to just having one, huh princess? You’re so insatiable after all.”

You’re unable to dish out a response of your own for obvious reasons, but as Wonwoo attempts to get you to deepthroat him, Mingyu presses a hand on the small of your back. Just a little so you wouldn’t lose your center of gravity, but it’s enough to make your spine arch into an angle that lets him hit it a tad bit deeper.

The reaction it incites from you is immediate and he can see Wonwoo’s smirk widen when you practically choke on his cock at the added sensation—tears gathering on your lash line because Mingyu just found your fucking g-spot.

“Gyu’s cock is splitting you wider than you can handle, isn’t it?” your boyfriend taunts as he pushes you further against his navel. “You’ll let us finish inside you like the cumslut you are, won’t you? It’s the least you can do for tormenting Mingyu all this time.”

He says the words as if he didn’t have a hand in making Mingyu lose his mind for the better part of these last few months. But he can’t really pay much attention to his best friend’s hypocritical admissions. Not when your walls are clamping around his cock so tight, he can barely hold out even if he wanted to.

If anyone else is in his place, they wouldn’t stand a chance either. With the squelch of your cunt with each deep stroke of his cock ringing in his ears, Mingyu wants to burn it into his memory along with the sight of your cream gathering at the base of his cock every time he presses his hips flush against your ass.

Not to mention the sight of you taking your boyfriend’s cock like a fucking champ. You haven’t once pulled away for a breather since Wonwoo slid himself inside the heat of your mouth and Mingyu can only wonder if his best friend would allow him to feel that next time.

If there’s even a next time.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Mingyu groans through gritted teeth as he feels the release sizzling beneath his skin. “Can I come inside you? Let me stuff you full?”

Still unable to verbalize your responses, you let out another muffled noise in agreement, tears and drool sliding sloppily down your face as Wonwoo chases after his own high.

His best friend lets out another evil chuckle. “Take all of Gyu’s cum, princess. Can’t let a single drop go to waste now, can we?”

That’s practically the last straw for Mingyu—hips stuttering to a halt as his white hot emission shoots into your swollen cunt. You moan around Wonwoo’s cock as your boyfriend batters your throat with the head of his cock, absolutely addicted to the feeling of Mingyu’s thick cock pulsing inside you as he dumps his load.

Just when you thought he’d collapse onto the bed right away, though, Mingyu quickly scrambles onto his back—positioning himself underneath you as he hoists your hips to nestle against his face. Finally, you let Wonwoo’s dick slip out of your mouth with a surprised, “Puppy, what are you—”

The words quickly die on your tongue when you feel Mingyu slurping the mixed essence from your pussy, eating his own cum alongside yours as he lathers your quivering slit with the mess he’s made between your thighs.

Wonwoo lets out an amused chuckle when you struggle to take him back into your mouth again, much too distracted by the overeager Mingyu cleaning you up in the most unorthodox way possible.

“Pretty baby’s so fucking spoiled today,” he sighs, feeling his own orgasm just a few strokes away. “You’re close aren’t you? Go ahead, baby. Come on Gyu’s mouth again and I’ll give you my load as a little present.”

Mingyu groans against your sloppy cunt as he sucks on your clit, bringing you to that high he already coaxed out of you earlier. You’re full on crying now and Wonwoo’s got everything on film.

He just knows this’ll be a night he’ll spend countless more nights jacking off to and he feels absolutely no shame admitting it to himself.

“Fuckin’ take it all, baby,” Wonwoo rasps as he finally comes—pouring his viscous cum down your throat all while your muscles spasm from Mingyu’s unrelenting ministrations. “That’s a good girl…”

He finds it a little endearing how you both came at the same time, but then again, Mingyu figures that if you’ve been having as much sex as he thinks you had with Wonwoo, equally timed orgasms are a regular thing.

When all’s said and done, Wonwoo takes it upon himself to properly clean you up in the bathroom. He tells Mingyu that he doesn’t have to come if he doesn’t want to, but the part time model still feels partly responsible for the devastated state they both left you in.

So there you are soaking in the bathtub that comes with the hotel room’s en-suite as your boyfriend and his best friend take turns in the shower.

“I can’t believe you two played me like that for so long,” Mingyu sulks, checking his reflection in the mirror as he towels his hair. “If you wanted to have a threeway, you could’ve told me without making me go through this entire moral dilemma of wanting to fuck my best friend’s girl.”

Wonwoo chuckles from inside the shower. “Now, where’s the fun in that, Gyu?”

“Mhmm.” You giggle as you scrub your sore legs with a sponge. “It was pretty amusing seeing you so torn up, puppy. But we’ve had our fun. I promise not to tease you too much next time.”

Silence falls between the three of you and nothing but the sound of water from the showerhead hitting the floor rings in Mingyu’s ears.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” he dares to ask before glancing worriedly over at Wonwoo.

His best friend emerges from the shower with steam billowing out of the door and into the vent. Wonwoo’s wearing a casual, laid-back look on his face like this isn’t news to him.

“Yeah, remember when you mentioned me being recruited on the Worlds roster?” Wonwoo asks and Mingyu nods hesitantly. “Yeah. I actually got an email offering me a spot as a T1 trainee.”

Mingyu’s jaw nearly drops to the floor. “You’re kidding. You’ll be on the same team as Faker?”

“Hey, I’m not sure yet ‘cause I have to go to this bootcamp thing and everything,” his best friend chuckles before padding over to where you’re still lounging comfortably in the tub. “But since bootcamps take months to finish, my princess over here might feel a little lonely without me.”

You pout when Wonwoo plants a loving kiss on your nose. “I’ll die if I don’t get fucked stupid at least every three business days.”

“I know, baby. That’s why Mingyu over here is going to keep you company while I’m gone,” Wonwoo says out loud. “Right, Mingyu?”

With two pairs of eyes on him, the part time model gulps nervously.

It’s one thing to join them in bed to fuck you at the same time. But for Wonwoo to willingly leave his girlfriend in Mingyu’s care while he’s away for pro gamer bootcamp?

Part of him feels like he’s skipped several steps required to get to where he is now. That the offer is way too good to be true and that the universe will pull up with a fucking gotcha moment at him one day when he least expects it.

But Wonwoo seems so sure that he’ll accept and the look in your eyes glimmers with so much hope, Mingyu couldn’t bear to deny the implicit request even if he wants to.

So, with a deep, bated breath:

“Sure thing,” he says with a toothy smile. “What are friends for, right?”

part one - part two - part three - part four

⟢ end notes: hehe you made it to the end! thank god! this was meant to be concluded in part 3, but the plot line where mingyu finds out the identity of his favorite twitter porn girl is gonna take up tens of thousands of words again and i decided that it deserved its own chapter lol i still have much in store for this throuple so i do hope you tune into their sexcapades in the future <3 your reblogs and tags and other comments inspire me to write sooo much so it'll mean the world to me if you left your thoughts for me to read hehe~ p.s. i'll add links to the masterlist and other parts for easier access later bc tumblr is stupid when it comes to showing posts with links in the tags

this is part of the game over series!

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #mingyu smut #minwon smut #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #full length fic 📚#lovelyhan

2K notes · View notes

lyjen · 24 days

Text

Keep things casual

Summary: After a night out with the team, (y/n) and Evan end up hooking up. But when after a year, she shows up to Chris’ birthday party with a baby, it raises questions for Evan.

Request by: anonymous - The request

9-1-1 masterlist

Taglist: I was thinking of starting a taglist, so if you want to be tagged leave a comment or tell me in “Ask me a question”! ( @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley )

______

“Bye Eds!” (Y/n) called out as Eddie stepped out the back of the uber car they were squeezed in. “Get home safe, and text me when you’re home.” Eddie says as he pointed out a finger to his sister. “I promise.” She spoke as Eddie gave her hand a little squeeze. “Bye guys” and with that, Eddie closed the door he was holding open.

Now there were two of them. Evan and (Y/n) were sitting in the back of the uber car. They had drunk way too much to drive themselves home safe and sound.

Eddie and the team were having drinks at their standard firefighter bar, and Eddie invited his little sister to meet the team. He talked constantly about his little sister, and how she was his best friend. So they told Eddie to invite his sister to the bar. Normally, she wouldn’t do it, she wasn’t a fan of social events, but when Eddie begged her to come she couldn’t say no.

“I really should stop drinking this much, I never know what my limit is.” Evan spoke as he pressed his palms against his head. (Y/n) just laughed at what Evan just said. And continued staring outside. She liked the way Evan talked so passionately about his work and the team he worked with. From the stories she had heard tonight, she could tell that he was an impulsive and compassionate person.

(Y/n) lived about 5 minutes from her brother’s house, she was next on the drop off list. The five minute drive was silent, but not awkward.

When the car pulled to a stop, (Y/n) unbuckled her seatbelt and her eyes fell on those ocean blue eyes. “Can I walk with you?” Evan’s soft, low voice asked when he saw her reaching for the door handle. “Sure” she smiled as her eyes met Evan’s.

They both got out of the car, Evan waited a second for (Y/n) to walk next to him as they made their way towards the apartment building (Y/n) lived in.

“This is me” she said as she got out her keys from her little bag she had with her. Evan leaned with the left side of his body against the concrete wall of the hallway. She had a lot of keys on her keychain. (Y/n)’s hands fumbled for the right key to open her front door, but she accidentally dropped her keys to the ground. “Shit” she mumbled as she squatted down to grab the keys from the floor. She was clumsy, but Evan thought it was adorable. He had heard enough stories from Eddie to know what she would be like, and clumsiness was one of those things.

“I’m sorry-” she felt so stupid that it was taking her so long to open the door. But when she got back up from grabbing the keys from the ground, her breath was taken away by Evan. Evan crashed his lips against hers, as he slightly pressed two fingers underneath her jawline, and softly pushed it up to meet his height.

She moved one of her hands to the back of his neck and let her fingers get tangled on the short curls at the back of his head. Evan’s hand slid down to her lower back as he pressed her closer to his body.

“I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to come inside.” (Y/n) whispered when their lips parted and she could still feel Evan’s warm breath flowing against her skin. Evan smiled at her reaction. “I already thought you didn’t want this night to end.”

Evan pulled back his hand from her lower back as she turned to the door, to finally open it. When she finally found the right key to open her apartment door, she slid it in and turned the key to unlock it.

She took his hand, stepped inside and Evan followed her with a small smile on his face, and he closed the door behind him. Evan stepped closer to her as he placed his hand on her cheek. And pressed his lips against hers once again.

“W-we really shouldn’t be doing this” She pulled back her head, and shook it as she pushed Evan away from her. “This feels.. wrong.” she continued after he gave her a confused look.

She wanted him too, just as much as Evan wanted her. Why was she suddenly so scared?

Evan’s left hand was still resting on her waist. “I mean, nobody has to know. It’s not like we’re married after this.” Evan took a step closer, trying to close the distance between the two of them which (Y/n) created. ”Let’s just.. keep things casual.” he continued his proposal.

Her eyes switched every few seconds from his eyes to his lips, god she felt like a teenager again. Her stomach filled with jitters. With the second Evan’s lips came closer, it was almost like he tried to seduce her. Barely an inch away, he stopped. Their noses were almost touching, she could feel his warm breath floating over her lips.

Her breathing became shallow. “You’re right. Screw it.” she panted as she laid her hands on either side of his jacket and pulled him close.

Evan nudged (Y/n) backwards until her back hit the wall and he pressed his body against hers like he wanted to merge into her. He pinned his other hand next to her head against the wall.

She let her hands slide to the back of his neck as Evan’s hands slipped from her waistline down to her bum. He sends kisses down her neck, which send shivers down (Y/n)’s spine.

His hands wandered down to the back of her thighs, he lifted her up until she got the memo and secured her legs around his hips. (Y/n)’s arms gripped his shoulders even tighter when she felt his lips to the side of her neck, starting to leave a mark.

“Where’s your bedroom actually?” his voice asked when he realized he didn’t know which way to go. (Y/n) let out a laugh in the crook of his neck, typically Evan. His skin tickled at the laughs he received. “Down the hall on the right”

“Good. Now where were we?”

_______

“Eddie, you’ve got to be kidding me. You have got to stop calling me. I’m literally three minutes out.” (Y/n) spoke when she tapped on the green coloured phone icon on her car kit. Eddie had called her over three times already today, he just wanted to make sure she was okay and that she was coming down to LA with her son.

(Y/n) was Eddie’s favorite sister, They had a three years age difference, and two older sisters. But the bond between Eddie and (Y/n) was different.

“I know. I’m sorry, just wanted to make sure you’d actually show up.” Eddie answered her as he laughed. (Y/n) shook her head at Eddie’s reaction, he knew her too well. When they were younger, sometimes she would say she would come to a party or just hang out with friends. But when the time would come, she would cancel her plans.

Now that she was older, she actually managed to push herself more and more out of her comfort zone. Yes, she was sometimes still afraid of the unknown, but it was less than it used to be. She would still feel awkward in situations with new people, but she knew how much it meant to Eddie and Chris if they came down to LA.

The drive wasn’t very long, maybe two hours tops. But it was a lot with a three-month- old in the backseat. (Y/n)’s eyes shot to her rear view mirror and a smile was projected on her face when she saw her son’s eyes fluttering around the car, safe and sound in his car seat.

“So you’re almost here?” Eddie asked for confirmation. (Y/n) smiled as she shook her head. “Yes! I’m on my way.” she sighed as she focussed on the Los Angeles traffic right in front of her. “Oh come on!” she yelled at the car who was in front of her, driving with the speed of a snail as she pushed the horn. “You seriously need to work on those anger issues.” (Y/n) could hear her brother laugh through the phone. “It’s called road rage. I seriously don't know how you do this every single day.” she sighed. Her eyes fluttered towards the rearview mirror once again when Archie’s cries sounded through the car.

“I’m sorry for calling this much. Chris is so excited to see you and Archie again, he has been talking constantly about the two of you.” Eddie said, which put a smile on (Y/n)’s face. “It’s okay, but Eds, I have to go now. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” She wanted to cut off the phone call as soon as possible. “Alright, see you soon” Eddie says, and she pressed the red button to disconnect their call.

“It’s okay Archie, It will only take a few minutes.” (Y/n) tries to calm down her son with the sound of her voice. He was probably hungry, he’d always get grumpy if he got his food a few minutes later than usual. “For fuck sake.” she cursed as the line of cars she was in stepped on their brakes. The cries of Archie became louder and louder.

(Y/n) tried her best to stay focussed on the road. But when the crying suddenly stopped, she looked in the mirror to see what was happening. Did he fall asleep that fast again? A shiver rolled down her spine, her eyes scanned the face of the three month boy as she looked in the baby mirror.

Panic built up inside her chest when she saw her son crying, but he was turning red.

“No no no no” this was not happening. She quickly turned her car to the right as she parked it on the sidewalk. (Y/n) unbuckled her seatbelt, took the key out of the contact and shoved her door open. She opened the back door where her son was seated in the small car seat as she panicked and started examining him.

Was he choking? What was he choking on? “Baby what’s happening?!” (Y/n) spoke frustrated when she couldn’t remember or find anything he could be choking on. She didn’t know what to do.

(Y/n) was literally two streets away from the firehouse where Christopher’s birthday party was. She knew Chris would get upset if she came in screaming for help. But this was the best option she had. The Los Angeles traffic wasn’t moving and she couldn't just drive over the sidewalk to get her kid there.

She didn’t have time to think, or she already unbuckled Archie from his little car seat and pressed him against her body. With her right foot she kicked the car door closed and she started running.

With her left hand she pressed Archie’s head against her shoulder so his head wouldn’t bump against her body so he wouldn't hurt himself. Her right hand was placed on his lower back, also pressing him against her body. She could feel Archie’s body trying to gasp for air, his little body was shocking against hers.

Tears were running down her face as she tried to run as fast as her legs could carry her.

Oxygen was burning down her airways as she was sprinting down the pavement, she desperately wanted to soothe Archie, telling him that they were getting the help he needed. But she had to save her air, to give her more energy to run.

As soon as she ran through the big red giant garage doors, which were opened. She screamed for help with the last bit of air she had left. “Please help me!” she cries as her eyes scanned the firehouse, looking for someone to help her out.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” her brother’s voice called out as he rushed down the stairs with a few colleagues following him.

“H-he can’t breathe” she stuttered, desperately gasping for air.

Eddie took over his nephew from his sister’s hands and laid him down to the floor. Archie’s lips were turning blue. (Y/n) glanced at her son, but when she saw those blue lips. A feeling of guilt and failure rushed through her stomach. How could this happen? What was happening to her child? “Pulse is low” Eddie concluded as he pressed his fingers to the neck of his nephew.

Frustrated, she let her hand go through her hair, pulling the strands which were lost, to the back of her head. She was looking at her brother and colleagues, trying to figure out what was happening to her child. She quietly sobs, as she desperately tries to calm down her breathing.

Hen took place on the other side of Archie. The eyes of the three months old started to turn to the back of his head and loses consciousness. “Sounds like a breath holding spell” Eddie looked at Hen to get her opinion on it.

They couldn’t do anything about it, they couldn’t help Archie with breathing. “W-what are you doing? Why aren’t you helping him?” (Y/n) asked when Eddie and Hen stopped examining her son.

Eddie looked at Hen, silently asking if she could keep an eye on Archie so he could explain to his sister what was going on. Hen nodded, at his silent question as she kept her eyes on the baby.

Eddie stood up straight and clicked his spine back into place as he slowly walked towards his sister who was still in panic mode. “It’s okay” Eddie spoke as he came closer and put his hands on both her upper arms and started running them up and down to try and comfort her.

“It’s a breath holding spell, that’s what is happening.” Eddie says. “I-I don’t understand” she cries as she tries to get her breathing under control.

“A breath holding spell is when a child holds their breath after being frustrated or angry. When they’re older, it can be on purpose to get your attention. But since Archie is only three months old, this has to be involuntary.” Eddie explains the situation to his little sister. “But why aren’t you doing anything to help him breathe?” Her hand went towards her eyes, trying to keep herself together.

“The thing is, when a child passes out they have to come back around after a few seconds, or a minute. He will start breathing on his own.” Eddie reassured her and gave her shoulder a little squeeze. A baby cry sounded through the space of the firehouse, as Archie gained consciousness again. “There you go” Hen spoke as she picked up the baby boy from the ground and let him rest in her arms.

“See. He’s going to be okay.” Eddie gave his sister a small smile, as Hen handed Archie over to (Y/n).

______

For minutes, hours, (Y/n) succeeded in avoiding Evan at the birthday party from Chris. When the most terrifying moment of her life was happening, Evan was there for Chris to keep him calm and distract him from whatever was happening down stairs.

(Y/n) tried her best to keep talking with people, and not to glance at Evan like she was hiding something from him. But whenever her eyes wandered back to Evan, he looked back at her. As if he knew she was looking at him.

“I’ll be right back.” (Y/n) told her brother as he was holding Archie in his arms, with Chris hovering over him.

(Y/n) stood up and grabbed the diaper bag as she made her way towards the kitchen. It was time for Archie to be fed.

She put the bag on the kitchen counter as she got out the powder, a small feeding bottle and a thermos flask. When she started putting the powder into the bottle, she flinched at the voice that made its way through her eardrums. She squeezed her eyes closed, she wanted to avoid this conversation so badly.

“Hey. Can we talk?” Evan quietly asks as he walks into the kitchen. “Kinda busy here.” She answered as she grabbed the thermos flask and started to pour water until she reached the right amount of water.

Evan folded his arms over one another. “Please?” He leaned his lower back against the kitchen counter as he watched her making the bottle for Archie. (Y/n) could feel the eyes burning in the back of her head, but she didn’t turn around and started mixing the texture of the bottle.

“Why didn’t you ever call me back after… that night?” Evan sighed after a moment of silence. She stopped and put down Archie’s bottle on the counter, placing it right in front of her. She leaned with her palms on the counter “I thought we agreed on keeping things casual between us. It was a one time thing, nothing more, nothing less.” She tried to keep her voice as low as possible, she didn’t want to start any drama at the moment. They were at Chris' birthday party.

“Yeah and I thought, If I had gotten you pregnant. You would tell me. Right?” Evan spoke as he turned his head to the right, trying to make eye contact with (Y/n). She stayed silent, as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she spoke as she pressed her lips into a thin line and continued checking the temperature of the substance inside of the bottle on her wrist.

He moved to stand next to her, leaning his right hip against the kitchen counter. “Shit that’s way too hot” she mumbled as she placed a few drops of the milk onto her wrist. But when she wanted to move towards the sink, Evan grabbed her wrist to stop her from walking away from the conversation she clearly didn’t want to have.

Evan wanted to answer what (Y/n) had just told him. But when Evan realized they were kind of causing a scene, Evan kept a hold of (y/n)’s wrist and led her towards the stairs. “Where are we going?” he didn’t say anything, as he walked down the stairs. Not letting go of her wrist as he opened the locker room door and spun her inside as he closed the door behind him.

“Come on (Y/n). I’m not stupid. How old is Archie again?” Evan asked as he once again tried to make eye contact with her. (Y/n)’s eyes were stuck on the bottle she was still holding in her hand. She was too scared to look Evan in the eyes, and tell him the truth.“Three months” she whispered.

Evan’s eyes grew wide at her answer. His gut feeling was telling him the right thing. “Jesus (Y/n)” Evan’s voice sounded disappointed. “You’re unbelievable.” Evan continued as he pressed his fingers against his head, trying to process the information he just received.

“I swear Evan, I was planning on telling you.” (Y/n) said as she tried to make eye contact while Evan rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “I-I just didn’t know how” she went on.

“You’ve had nine months to tell me that you were pregnant. Hell, when were you planning on telling me? When he turned what, eighteen?” Evan was furious, his head was pounding because the truth was finally coming out.

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” her voice whispered at Evan as she started fidgeting with the bottle of Archie in her hands.

“Then why didn’t you tell me, you know I would’ve been there for you.” Evan tried to calm himself back down.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared Evan.” She took a step closer as she tried to make eye contact again with those ocean blue eyes. “Scared of what? My reaction?” He didn’t get it. She could’ve just reached out, and they would’ve figured it out, together.

“Your opinion.” she sighed. “M-my opinion?” he stuttered, as he confused looked her back in the eye. “What if a one night stand told you she had gotten pregnant, and she actually told you she wanted to keep the baby because they told her she couldn’t have children.” she pressed her lips into a thin line.

Evan didn’t have the words to answer, so he remained silent.

“Yeah, exactly.” (Y/n) said as she didn’t get an answer. She walked around Evan towards the door and just when she wanted to open the door to leave the locker room, his voice spoke up.

“Did Eddie know? About me and you?” he suddenly asks over his shoulder. (Y/n) stopped in her tracks as she held her head down, should she tell him the truth? Since a bomb already bursted?

She turned back to Evan as she let go of the glass door. Evan spun on his heels to face her again. She bit her lower lip as she nodded. “Yes. He knows it’s yours.” she admitted. “Who else knows?” he quickly asked after that.

Her hand nervously scratched the back of her head, and a sigh fell off her lips. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know, he didn’t need any words to confirm that there were people who knew that he was the father of (Y/n)’s child.

“Who else knows (y/n)?” He repeated his question. She started picking her skin on her fingers. “Bobby? Hen? Chimney? Come on, spit it out.” Evan had to try and pull out the answer out of her.

She faced the ceiling of the locker room as she sighed once more, trying to gain every piece of confidence she had left. “Chimney and Maddie.” she spoke out. Evan’s eyes grew wide as he heard his own sister's name fall off her lips.

“That’s just.. that’s great.” Evan said as he started pacing through the locker room.

“I’m so sorry Evan.” was the only thing she could bring out. There weren’t enough words to describe the feeling she had right then and now.

When she wanted to turn away, to walk out of the door again, Evan sighed. “You know how often I wrote a text message, but never sended it to you? You know how much I've thought about you, about us. That night.” Evan confessed.

“Just know you weren’t just a one night stand to me.” (Y/n) let her hand rest against the glass door, as she waited for Evan to go on.

“I know we agreed on keeping things casual then, but god I wanted so much more. And I still do. I let you slip through my fingers then, but I’m not making that same mistake now.”

“Evan..-” she sighed, there were so many emotions going on right now. He was angry because she didn’t tell him about Archie, the pregnancy, he finally saw her again after one year, and here he was spilling his guts.

He stepped closer. “Tell me to go away. And I will go.” Evan said as he closed the distance between the two of them, their chests barely touching. She stayed silent.

She missed Evan, the way he talked, the way he would look at her like she was his drug and the way he touched her.

Evan’s fingers slightly brushed against hers. She could feel her breathing become heavy again. Their eyes connected as she looked up at the firefighter when he put a strand of hair behind her ear.

Before she could even process it, her lips crashed against his. It was like her body was moving faster than her brain. As if it had its own mind. His touch made (Y/n) want to melt right there on the spot. The way he kissed her made her feel like she was floating.

“Keeping things casual, right? You can stripe that one off of your list” Evan panted against her lips. “Shut up” she mumbled, and she pressed her lips even harder against his lips that were curled into a smile.

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine

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