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reinainaric · 3 months

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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 1.

mean!sukuna ryomen x fem!reader

It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.

But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.

contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna

warnings: cursing, slight nsfw

Note: THIS WAS A REPOST (?) kinda. I accidentally posted it from my drafts without even finishing the whole fic, and I WAS GONE FOR A MOMENT AND WENT BACK AND SAW PEOPLE LIKING IT ALREADY AND I WAS LIKE ?????? 😭 so for the sake of people who already read it, im just going to post it again now and hope you come back for part 2 😭

links: << part 2 > < part 3 >

***

Who's going to tell her?

Yuji, Sukuna's younger brother, smiled sadly at you when he saw you leaving another love letter for his sibling inside his locker. It was the fifth time since last month, and you haven't given up on Sukuna despite how he harshly told you that he's never going to like somebody like yourself. And Yuji witnessed it all as he remembers you picking up the scattered sweets on the floor that Sukuna pushed away from your hand, pitying at your helpless state.

But you still smiled at Sukuna after the rejection, Yuji didn't even know if it was forced or not, but he really admired you for your bravery.

Who's going to tell you that you're only going to end up hurting yourself in the end?

•

Sukuna almost forgot to breathe when he sees you in front of the school building, your head turning from left to right as you wait for him. He cursed, knowing how he's going to have to deal with you so early in the morning. And he wanted to complain so much why there's only one entrance in this damn forsaken university.

Your eyes lit up when you saw him, like a puppy wagging its tail when they saw their owner. You paid no mind as Sukuna gave you a death stare as he walked right passed, ignoring your little happy greeting. What a way to ruin his morning...

"Sukuna!–"

"Get lost."

But you smiled to yourself, just following Sukuna from behind. You were a new student to this school for almost a year now, a year younger than Sukuna, and just how lucky he is that he's the person you laid your eyes upon.

People always see you as the positive energy that roams around the school hallways, always smiling at people, and being the social butterfly that seems to never run out of social battery. You were kind to kids, you liked helping school admins or facilitators when you see them walking with a heavy workload, you were friends with your professors (even the strict ones), and everybody likes you for your kind nature ever since you first move to this university.

So why would you like someone so opposite from you?

Ryomen Sukuna, the school band's bassist. Girls fawn after him, but not as much as you do. Everybody knows how cold and mean of a person he was, and he didn't like it when anybody came his way. He'd straight up reject every confession from the girls who had the courage to come up to him, but whenever Sukuna said 'no' to them, hearts seemed to pop out from their eyes, because then again, it's Sukuna. It didn't matter to the girls if they were rejected. At least Sukuna graced them with his attention, and his cold, baritone voice.

But even after a rejection, the girls will just giggle and stop. Some will come back a few times, but no one ever did it like you.

Everyday, you never fail to wait for Sukuna so early in the morning to arrive at school. You'd greet him with a cheeky smile, eyes squinting happily at seeing his face, and Sukuna responds with a grunt, glaring at you as he harshly bumps your shoulder just to walk passed.

You didn't care though. You believed Sukuna just built a wall around him, and you're more than willing to break it.

•

"I like you, Sukuna!"

You are insane.

It's obvious on Sukuna's face that he already had enough of your nonsense, watching you confess to him for the hundredth time. There was a dark aura glooming his features, and yours were as bright as the sun, signifying how their dynamics are contrasting and unfitting for each other. But do you even care?

Sukuna tried to search your eyes for any signs of embarrassment, or even regret, just to see if you're finally planning to stop whatever escapades that lie before your heart.

"I'm not interested, brat." He spat, venom laced in his voice.

"I'll be at your show later to cheer you on!" You showed him your smile that almost made your eyes disappear, completely hearing what he said with one ear and letting it pass to the other.

He chuckled darkly, "I don't need another annoying kid screaming their lungs out for me."

"Hey, I'm not a kid!"

"Yeah? Then you should stop this by now. You fool."

You frowned, staring at his cold gaze that seemed to wrap all over your figure. But you're unfazed, no amount of glares and venomous words would even stop you from liking him.

"Now, that's just bad." You uttered, and then smiled once again. "But I forgive you, Sukuna!"

Sukuna heaved a sigh, grunting as he turned around. "Annoying."

•

"Hi, Sukuna!"

Sukuna stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you inside the band's music room. Your hair was tied in a bun, and you were wearing reading glasses as you hugged your clipboard on your chest.

"Ah, you finally arrived..." The band professor said. The professor said your name, saying that you'll be their manager from now on since there were a lot of gigs coming up for the band, and in need for someone to help them organize.

Sukuna's face turned sour, seeing how you just happily smiled at everyone in the room as you introduced yourself, shaking their hands and all that. When you turned to Sukuna, you held out your hand as well, waiting for him to accept and shake it.

His brows furrowed, looking at you and down to your waiting hand, but he scoffed. He moved away and found a seat near his bandmate, completely wanting to ignore your existence.

You coughed awkwardly, your hands scratching your neck instead.

•

"I bought snacks!"

It was another day at practice, everyone in the band was busy preparing for their next stage at the school's fair. You noticed how everyone was working hard enough, and you perfectly had the heart to do something nice so they can take a break for a while. Everyone's head turned to look at you, and their faces lit up at the sight of you holding four bags of snacks with both hands.

Their lead vocalist, Nanami, rushed to help you, taking the bags away and placing them at the table. He ruffled your hair fondly. "Thank you, sweetheart..."

You blushed, smiling at him. "Just doing my duties!"

Sukuna rolled his eyes as he played with the strings of his guitar. He didn't like the fact that he's always stuck with you everywhere he goes, annoyed how he's forced to be here with you even on band practice.

In his eyes, you were such a desperate brat who can't even read between the lines. He never liked girls like you who stick to him like leeches, cooing and batting their eyelashes for his attention.

And that made him hate you with all his guts.

Even worse that you always flash everyone with your happy energy, acting like everything is fine even though they're not. He hates how you ignore his refusals, how you didn't mind his cold shoulders, how he made it obvious that he might just want to strangle your neck when he gets the chance, and you're still going to look at him like he's not the meanest person in the world.

"Sukuna! Aren't you hungry?" You asked, approaching his side but keeping a step distance to maintain your professionalism. After all, you still know your boundaries when it comes to things like this.

"No."

"That's impossible–"

"Will you fucking shut up for once?"

The room fell silent as you bit your lip, trying to find the right words to say. Everyone looked awkwardly at the two of you, their eyes shifting at each other's.

The school band knew you liked Sukuna, and it wasn't really strange for them whenever you tried to call for his attention. They got used to it somehow, saved by your kind nature why they didn't mind your advances. But when it comes to Sukuna being harsh to you, they stand awkwardly, feeling hurt for you even.

"Sukuna, that's not a way to treat a lady." Their drummer, Suguru, came to cut the awkward silence.

Sukuna glared at him, placing his guitar on the wall, before storming off the room with a loud slam of the door.

You heave a sigh, forcing a small smile on your lips. "Well..."

"Don't mind him."

•

Sukuna never fails to attract women, he always had them lining up for him to take in his bedroom.

Of course, Sukuna also had his fair share of flings too, and some hook ups. Being the bassist of their school band, it's no shock that he was one of the famous members since he's just a sight for sore eyes.

The way his veiny and big hands strum the guitar? His dark eyes that looked intimidating through to the crowd? That smirk on his face whenever he's pleased about playing on the stage?

Oh, the girls love him. Everyone wants Ryomen Sukuna.

So what's so shocking when you stumbled upon an empty classroom, with Sukuna making out with some girl you didn't even know?

Her hair was messy, her shirt was lifted up on her chest, basically exposing her bra. And your eyes darted at her panties hanging on her knees as Sukuna had his hands underneath her skirt.

Your eyes widened, and Sukuna looked at you angrily for interrupting whatever was supposed to happen if you didn't enter the room. Immediately, you stumbled backwards, closing the door behind you as you ran away from the scene.

If his rejections didn't hurt you that much, well, that definitely did.

The whole day, you didn't attend their band practice, saying that you don't feel well and needed time off. It bothered you so much that you were restless, almost out of your mind as you try to finish your homeworks.

Every time you see Sukuna, you'd look away awkwardly. Biting your lip, and staring at your feet for God knows how many minutes.

Sukuna didn't care about what happened earlier though. It was better for it that way, with you witnessing something that may have given you the thought to just give up on him? Sukuna would be so happy that the heavens were finally on his side.

The lewd picture of Sukuna and the random girl runs in your memory like a film. The way his lips pressed on her mouth, his hands lingering on her skin—it was messing up in your head.

Something was tugging in your chest, a feeling that you never felt even before. You felt your face heating up, burning in whatever emotions that were spilling to burst from your tired eyes.

Just let it pass for a while. You'll be fine tomorrow.

•

Of course, you'd have to face it one way or another. And let it not affect you like you always do.

Sukuna cocked his eyebrow when he saw you the next day at the parking lot, waiting for him once again. You waved at him with a smile, and he just can't help but heave another sigh of frustration.

"What are you doing, brat?" He fumed.

"What do you mean? I was waiting for you!" You sounded so cheery that it made Sukuna have a headache. "I got you cookies! I baked them–"

"Cut it off." He said so coldly that it made you stop, the hands holding the cookies packed in a zip bag stopped midair. "I've fucking had enough of you."

"What do you mean? I just–"

"Aren't you going to stop after yesterday? Fucking take a hint, brat." He glared at you, his eyes turning red in anger. "Do you want me to fuck that girl and make you watch just so you'd leave me alone?"

His words rang in your head, echoing like a demon trying to choke you to death. Sukuna watched as you stared at him with tired eyes, and lips parted a bit. He never thought he'd see your appearance like this, so defenseless for once in his life.

"I like you, Sukuna. I really do." Your voice was barely above a whisper as you turned around to walk away from him, for the first time.

•

You remember a notebook that you left back in the band's practice room, so you planned to get it. And since the band had a scheduled meeting in just a few minutes, you planned to just stay and wait for them since your classes are done, making you the first person to arrive in the room.

Or so you thought.

You stumbled on your feet when you saw Sukuna after you opened the door. His legs were sprawled apart, the electric guitar in his lap, strumming in a slow rhythm. Your eyes darted at each other, and it took you a moment to snap out of your thoughts.

What are you gonna do? Walked out? Do you say goodbye to him first? Or are you going to say hi and stay? Should you get the notebook you left or not? Maybe just leave him alone? But you really needed that notebook, so what now?

"What are you looking at?"

You can't turn back. No. You'd look dumb. And you're getting tired of looking so helpless in front of him.

You faked a cough, stepping inside the room, "I didn't think you'd be here..."

You stand there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do, despite how you're supposed to be looking for your things now. Sukuna paid no mind about your presence, just scribbling on a piece of paper after playing a different note on his guitar.

It took you long enough to start lifting your feet from the ground, relentlessly moving all over the shelves just to find the notebook that you left. You searched every corner, table tops, cabinets, and even chairs, but to your dismay, there was none.

You looked over at Sukuna who was busy with his guitar, mouth opening to speak, and then closing once again.

You moved a little to your spot, fiddling with your fingers and then spoke, "Hey... have you seen any pink notebook in here?"

You swear you wanted the floor to just eat you whole when he looked at you with those annoyed eyes once again.

"No."

Okay.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You headed to the table in front of him, full of papers and pens, and one cup of coffee. You read one of the papers and saw it was one of their self-composed pieces that they've been working at for a week now.

You lifted up the pile of papers to look for your missing item, but still nothing. You sighed, bending underneath the table in case it fell down, and lo and behold, your notebook that you've been looking for. You reached for it, stretching your arms out, and when you finally got a hold of it, you stood up abruptly.

But sometimes, you just happen to mess things up unintentionally...

You gasped loudly when you accidentally lost your balance, hitting the table in the process. Your hands landed on the edge of the table that caused it to shake, spilling the cup of coffee on the pieces of paper.

"Shit!" You exclaimed, pulling the cup of coffee away quickly.

"Fucking hell." Sukuna hissed when he saw what happened. He immediately stood up, taking the papers away so it won't get wet with coffee anymore.

"O-oh my god..." You shake, looking around to look for a tissue or anything to wipe the mess. "I'm sorry! I'll clean them up!" You said frantically as you try to reach for the papers, only making it worse when you suddenly tore them apart at your hold.

"Jesus Christ!" Sukuna cursed, pushing you away as he watched as the paper tore itself now. There's no use saving these papers anymore. But what's worse is that you messed up their musical piece, out of all papers that you could've spilled coffee to.

Your eyes watered, heart beating fast at the chaos that you made.

"You just can't do anything right, don't you?"

You look at Sukuna, eyes pleading for him to understand your situation. To at least be sympathetic.

"I didn't mean it! I'm sorry–"

"Your sorry won't fix anything!" He shouted that made you flinch.

"What's happening here?"

•

"I'm so sorry, I really am..." You sobbed in front of the whole band as you sat at the chair in the corner. Your hands were covering your face as you tried so hard not to cry too much, but you're wailing like a baby already.

Nanami kneeled in front of you, placing a hand on your knees and gently rubbing circles on it. "Don't cry, we'll figure it out."

Sukuna crossed his arms as he watched you getting comforted by Nanami. "It's clearly her fault–"

"Sukuna." Choso cut him off, his eyes telling him to shut up as he shakes his head in disapproval.

Sukuna only scoffed as he watched your figure become so small as you cried your heart out in front of everyone, muttering your apologies again and again.

He might've felt something in the pit of his stomach.

•

"At least say sorry to her, would you?" Yuji said as he and his brother played video games in their living room.

"Why should I?" Sukuna's eyes furrowed as his fingers focused on tapping the joystick, making loud noises that everyone can hear through the living room.

"It was kind of harsh, you know? She was already feeling sorry, yet you still had to slap it in her face. Plus, you literally shouted at her. You don't shout at a lady, man..."

Sukuna frowned.

He knew all too well that he didn't do anything wrong, he was just making you realize your mistakes. Yet why was he painted as the bad guy here now?

He groaned as they lost another game, throwing the joystick away in frustration. "Fine."

•

"She didn't come again?" Nanami asked as he entered the room.

"No, she said she's not feeling too good." Choso answered.

For some reason, Sukuna felt like everyone had their eyes on him. Either burning a hole in it, or asking if he knew where she went, or if he had seen her at all.

"Maybe you should say sorry to our manager."

Another nagging.

Sukuna's about to be sick of it. He didn't get how he's the one who would be sorry when it should've been you in the first place. You didn't just mess it up for him, you messed up the whole band for your clumsiness. Those papers were important after all, since it's going to be the music they're supposed to play for the school fest. So why was he at fault?

Why did he feel like he really had to make it up to you?

Why did he feel like cupping your cheeks to wipe your damn tears away when he saw you crying?

***

Here's the part 2!

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hangmanssunnies · 6 months

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Heat To Boil

Summary: After a failed Tinder date, you go to hang out with your friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin. When you get to his house, you unexpectedly find him with a baby, and it is a sight that rewires something in your head. Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. And that is a task you would be more than willing to help with; now, you just need to find the courage to bring it up.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 9k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ Only, Friends to lovers, baby fever, smut, P in V, Oral, Hangman with a baby (deserves its own warning)

Author's note: The attorneys at work keep bringing their babies in and letting me hold them, and @top-hhun has done absolutely nothing to discourage the subsequent baby fever I've been dealing with. Anyways, that's where this fic came from. I hope you enjoy this. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had become friends with Jake unexpectedly some years ago, hitting it off at your mutual friend's wedding. Part of you had, of course, hoped the attractive blonde aviator would be interested in you, maybe in a romantic sense, but it never came to fruition. He shipped out the week after the wedding, but the easy rapport you carried with him started with sharing jokes about how trashed other people got at the reception, and eventually developing into a true and close friendship.

It was for the best because the more you got to know Jake, it became clear to you that he didn't want the same things that you did. He was focused on his career and didn't have time for a partner. When he did talk about settling down, it was never in an authentic way, more joking that he was waiting to swoop in if Coyote's marriage fell apart or that his Mama would set him up with a nice southern belle who wanted to give her twelve grandkids. Jake would claim he was too busy for a relationship, away from home too much to be steady. However, none of that seemed to stop him from finding time for you, which is probably why you hadn't been able to completely repress your feelings for him despite some valiant efforts.

Just today, after a failed lunch date with someone from Tinder, you texted Jake disheartened. He hadn't hesitated first to ask if you were okay and then invited you over for dinner to tell him all about it. He had even promised to cook you whatever you wanted. A special treat guaranteed to make you feel better, considering Jake's superb culinary skills.

You walk into Jake's house without knocking or ringing the bell, knowing he left the door unlocked in anticipation of your arrival. After securing the front door's lock into place, you toe off your shoes, making sure to set them neatly in line with the others there. Jake's home is clean and tidy, just like it always is; the organization of the entry is no exception. You know from the smells and sounds wafting towards you that he must still be cooking, which is odd because he's almost always done by the time you show up.

Venturing further into the house you see him, standing in the kitchen, with a baby strapped to his chest. It's an unexpected sight, and you're frozen by it. Jake's in a casual white teeshirt, jeans, and a dark navy blue sling with a camo pattern wrapped tightly around him, securing a tiny infant in place against his broad chest. His hair is fluffy like it often is on his days off, and the golden strands fall across his forehead. Seeing it like this always creates an instinctual desire to run your fingers through it. However, you can hardly even process that thought because you're so distracted by the bundle on his chest. Music is playing on his record player, and he is humming along.

Jake suddenly stops the humming, and the prep he is doing, looking down at the baby. After a pause, a smile pulls at the edges of his lips, his eyes crinkle before he drops a kiss on the infant's head. And it's like everything is right. Jake with a baby seems so natural. The fact that he exists any other way than with a baby in his arms every day feels wrong. Your heart starts beating harder in your chest, and a thought pops into your head, instantly taking deep root: Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually.

You don't know what sound you must have made, but Jake looks up and finally notices you standing in the hallway. He doesn't appear at all startled as a wide grin spreads across his face as he greets you, "Howdy there, Doll!"

"You have a baby," you say stupidly in an entirely delayed response.

"Yeah, this little guy is Jackson. Coyote and the Mrs wanted a date day, so I offered to watch the baby for them. They were supposed to be here two hours ago to pick him up, but I'm sure they just got caught up." Jake laughs and presses another kiss to Jackson's head. Before continuing on, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind," you manage to breathe out, unable to tear your eyes off Jake or even pretend you're not staring. He quirks an eyebrow at you but otherwise doesn't comment. After he gestures for you to join him, he returns to the cutting board in front of him. You are transfixed; when you sit down at the bar in the kitchen, it occurs to you that you should probably say something and not just stare like an idiot. "Do you want me to take him?"

"I think he is just fine here," Jake says, examining the sleeping baby strapped to his chest again. Jackson has hardly moved since you showed up, clearly passed out, not disturbed by the music or any of the kitchen sounds.

"At least let me help finish cooking then?" You request.

"No, Ma'am. Bubba and I have this dinner taken care of. I did pick up that wine you like from the store. Maybe you can open it up for us?"

Entering the kitchen, you pull out two wine glasses from a cabinet. Opening the fridge you see your preferred wine stocked, as well as a few of your other favorite drinks stored there. Warmth blooms in your chest that Jake picked up things for you when he was at the store last. It was touching that he would take care to buy something he would never touch but getting it anyway just to have beverages you prefer on hand. After pouring the wine, you set one glass next to Jake's cutting board, making sure it's in easy reach for him.

"Thank you," he says appreciatively. You sigh and lean against him, pressing your face into the bicep of his arm, careful not to disturb Jackson or the sling as you do. Closing your eyes, you breathe him in, looking for the subtle cedar scent of his cologne to soothe you. However, only a hint of it tickles your nose, the cedar not as strong as it usually is. Today, Jake smells more like clean laundry and his natural musk than anything else. You are surprised to find it still does the trick in helping settle your nerves, though. Jake hums but doesn't protest your closeness, instead asking, "Long day?"

You don't answer with words, just humming noncommittally against his arm. You leave your face pressed there for a moment longer. "Not enough wine to talk about it yet," you eventually say into his arm before pulling away. Settling on the other side of the counter again, you take a long drink of the wine you poured. Deciding to admire Jake again, you ask, "How was your day?"

"It was pretty good. Javy dropped Jackson off this morning. We had tummy time, went on a walk, and to the grocery store to get things for dinner. Then we got a little cranky, so we rocked in the lazy boy for a while." You took a moment to picture Jake doing these activities and can't decide which is most swoon worthy. Jake is always swoon worthy, of course, but knowing that he was caring for a baby while doing it feels like an extra kick to the stomach or maybe ovaries.

"And?" You ask him, taking another drink of your wine and pillowing your face on your palm.

"And what?" Jake asks.

"What else did you and Jackson do today? I want to hear every detail."

Jake gives into your request easily. Starting his description of the day over, he tells you how even though he has babysat before, the Machados were still anxious to leave Jackson alone here when they dropped him off that morning. Jake told you about tummy time, which toys they liked and which were uninteresting. How long their walk was, and what they saw. He told you about the old woman who fawned over them in the store and how they helped her with getting her groceries to the car. It was endearing that Jake used the first person plural 'we' as if he and Jackson were a team with equal agency in their day's activities. It was especially cute when Jake told you about the tantrum they had thrown earlier in the afternoon as if he had been crying right along with his godson.

Just as dinner was finished and you were setting the table, Jackson woke up and started to get fussy. Jake cooed to the baby affectionately, leaving to the guest room, where Javy had stuffed almost a car full of supplies for Jake to watch Jackson. Some of the just-in-case supplies included toys and clothes Jackson wouldn't even be able to use until he was at least a year old.

When Jake comes back, both he and Jackson are wearing different clothes. Jake is in a soft green shirt and sweats, while Jackson is now wearing a giraffe onesie. He has the baby propped on his hip and doesn't offer you any explanation aside from that they had an accident. Then he sees that you have plated and set everything for dinner at the dining room table, and he offers a soft thank you.

You watch as he balances Jackson on his hip and starts following the written out directions for making a bottle that's taped to his fridge. Jake isn't someone who struggles, and you know that this is something that he is fully capable of doing, but you also can't help but think that it would be easier for him if he had two free hands. So, you gently pull Jackson from his arms and into your own instead.

The baby blinks up at you, his eyes still soft and sleepy. He babbles a bit of nonsense but otherwise makes no protest at you. Jackson has the same brown eyes and skin tone as his father. Even with his chubby cheeks, you can tell that the little boy is going to be Coyote's mini-me. The similarities in their appearance are so close it's like the universe had just hit copy and paste.

He is so cute you can't stop the grin that stretches across your lips when Jackson snuggles into you. One of his hands starts grabbing at your shirt's fabric while he absently gnaws at his other one. The little boy completely steals your attention as you walk around the living room and dining room with him. Asking him how he feels about his day with his Uncle Jake, pausing for his babbling like they were real answers. Jake comes up behind you several minutes later, setting a steady hand on the small of your back.

"Here, let me take him," Jake mutters practically in your ear while reaching for Jackson.

"No," you protest, turning away from Jake's reach. "You've had him all day. I've only gotten to hold him for a few minutes."

"Now, darling," Jake drawls.

"Don't darling me."

"Doll," He says

"Don't Doll me either." You snap, though the aggression of it is completely manufactured.

"Fine, fine," Jake says, holding his hands up. "You can have him for a few more minutes, but then it's my turn again."

"How is that fair?"

"It's fair because he is my godson."

You pout at Jake, and he pouts back." I can't believe you're going to be a baby hog like this. Don't you know sharing is caring?"

"Jackson isn't a rental car, sweetheart. Can't just hand him out to anybody."

"So what? You don't trust me with him?"

"No," Jake says, suddenly dropping all of his dry, teasing tone. "Of course, I trust you with him. Of course, I trust you."

Jake steps closer when he says this, crowding a bit into your personal space. His sea glass green eyes hold you in place, and you don't think you imagine that they flick downwards, that he has his sights set on your lips, that Jake could be considering kissing you. However, a breath later, he is swooping Jackson out of your arms and into his own, quickly back peddling.

"You can have the baby back after I feed him, okay? I don't want to risk him throwing up on that pretty blouse you've got on."

"Kidnaper! Baby Snatcher!" You half gasp, half yell, and start to chase after Jake as he runs away, holding Jackson close and carefully but still managing to evade you.

You're both laughing, and Jackson has started joyfully screeching as well when the doorbell rings, startling all three of you. Jake hands Jackson to you wordlessly before going to check who's at the door. It only takes a minute for him to come back with Coyote in tow. Who immediately rushes to sweep his baby from your arms and press kisses all over his cherub face.

After Javy examined his son to ensure nothing was out of sorts, he handed Jackson back to you to hold while he and Jake packed up all of his stuff and moved the car seat. This was only after he made a sly comment about how good you looked with a baby in your arms, though.

When you are alone with Jackson again, you take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. It wasn't such a hard thing for you to imagine holding a baby, and it looking normal, like something right, especially when you start to picture one with Jake's features or one that would take more after you, possibly even some sweet mix. The feeling of casual want that started from seeing Jake when you first arrived suddenly twists into an unexpected ache and intense need.

You expect it to let up, but it doesn't. Rather, the feeling smolders in you, burning hotter and hotter until it feels slightly consuming. Seeing Jake hug and kiss Jackson goodbye, promising they would spend another day together soon, nearly does you in. Heating your feelings from a low simmer to a roaring boil.

When you and Jake finally sit down to actually have dinner, it gets a little hotter with every sip of wine you take. Every time that Jake smiles and his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way he asks about your failed date with the perfect mix of sympathy and care, even the way he reheated dinner, all adds to the fire. As Jake is starting to put away the leftovers from dinner, refusing to let you help, you can't keep it in anymore, and you boil over.

"Jackson was so precious," you say, casually swirling the bit of drink you have left around in the glass.

"Little mans is so fun. I love him. It's always a treat to babysit,"

"You were really great with him today."

"Aw, thanks Doll. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? Play a game, watch a movie? We can do anything you want."

"Anything I want?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jake says easily as he pops the lids of his pyrex container into place.

"I want a baby." You say in a quick breath. You nearly slap your hand over your mouth in horror that had just jumped out of your mouth. You really haven't had enough wine to be this bold, but then again, maybe you were a little intoxicated on having seen Jake be so domestic.

"What?" he asks with a laugh, probably thinking he misheard you. You grip the edge of the cool countertop trying to steady your nerves and prevent your hands from shaking.

"Jake, I want a baby," you tell him more slowly, making sure each word comes out clearly.

"No, you don't," he laughs, shaking his head. He starts tossing dirty dishes into the sudsy water of the sink and stacking up the food containers to put in the fridge. Jake turns away from you before saying, "I thought you've said you didn't want kids."

"It's complicated," you explain softly. "Are people not allowed to change their minds about things anymore?"

"Oh, so are you debating or like —"

"I don't really know how to say this more clearly. I want to have a baby with you, Jake."

He freezes. You see his shoulders tense, and he stares into the fridge for a long moment, slowly finishing storing the leftovers. When he closes the fridge, he still doesn't look at you immediately.

"You want me to be the father of a child you have? You want to have my baby?" Jake asks you incredulously. You gulp, now feeling entirely too vulnerable to speak, so you just nod in agreement instead. Jake's eyes are piercing, and his body language is tense as he stands in front of the sink again. He heaves a heavy sigh, his lips flattening into a tight line. Then he scrubs his hands over his face before narrowing his eyes at you, "This is not a very funny joke."

"It's not a joke, Jake. I want a baby, and I know you would be a good father." When Jake's demeanor still doesn't change, you continue on hurriedly. "I think we could do the whole platonic coparent thing easily enough. We get along so well, and we're already such good friends."

There is a long pause where he does not say anything, turning on the sink, waiting for the water to heat, and sudsing up a scrub daddy sponge. Only once this task is started does he answer you in a very stoic, perfectly level tone, "No, I don't think I can do that. I can't just sleep with you."

"Oh, well. I see. Forget that I asked, please." You mutter, embarrassed but trying to not let the sting of rejection affect your tone. You knew that this could backfire, but you didn't think it would feel this bad. Feel like the pit of your stomach falling so low you are almost nauseous.

"I'm sorry, Dolly."

"It's okay, Jake, really. It's just the wine getting to me."

"Are you going to ask someone else?"

"What?"

"Are you going to ask someone else to give you a baby?" Jake asks in a gruff tone.

You wouldn't actually, you wouldn't want one without Jake. In fact, this urge to have a child came from seeing him. However, you didn't know how else to play off your out-of-pocket request than to commit to the bit. Nonchalantly, you say, "Maybe."

"I could help you find someone," he offers.

"Please, Jake. It's okay you said no. You don't have to try and fix my situation."

He practically ignores you, asking, "What about Rooster?"

"I'm sure that I would have fun with the process," you say. Jake, who has focused himself with dedication on the dishes, looks up at you sharply. He quickly looks away again as you continue, "I'd be worried about having a baby that's born with a full mustache, though. So, no, thank you."

"I'm sure Fritz would be happy to help you out."

"No —"

"Harvard—"

"No Hangman. Stop," You say much harder with emphasis, cutting him off and leaving no room for argument.

"I tell you no for one thing, and suddenly I'm Hangman to you?"

"No, you're Hangman when you disregard the people around you, no matter what they say. You're Hangman when you decide something's a mission objective, and you refuse to let it go. This isn't your problem to fix or one to pawn off on one of your friends."

"You made it my problem when you just asked me to give you a baby," Jake says, frustrated. Roughly scrubbing the dishes, rinsing, and setting them in the drying rack.

"Well, the moment you said no, it's not your problem anymore. I'm absolving you of responsibility. It's my problem, and I will find someone for myself to put up with me, at least for a night." You joke, trying to lighten the mood again, not wanting to ruin the whole night from this mishap. Jake doesn't react more than his face darkening significantly, a deep frown pulling at his lips as he rinses the last dish and closes the dishwasher.

"Put up with you?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together. Jake reaches for a dish towel to dry off his hands, and you're momentarily distracted by the thick fingers and web of veins tracing up his arm. It's a better sight than meeting Jake's intense eyes, those eyes that can stare you down and leave no room for you to hide.

"I mean, I know I'm a lot, but I think even I can get someone to fuck me once or twice. If I want and am very lucky, I'll only need one night. There are also other options, of course, like sperm banks and adoption. Let's just let it go. Okay?" When you don't get an immediate response, you glance at Jake once more. He is staring at you, but it's not a look you like. He's looking at you like you are a problem to be fixed, a puzzle to solve, an item to take off his to-do list. So you force a chuckle out and smile.

"I don't think I want to. Actually, I can't let this conversation go."

"We have to," you insist.

"Why?"

"Because Jakers, it doesn't have anywhere else to go. I expressed a stupid desire without thinking. It was awkward, and that's okay. It doesn't have to stay that way, though. Now we laugh and forget it. There is no other option."

"A lot. Put up with. Stupid desires," Jake scoffs the words as he rounds the kitchen island. He spins the bar stool chair you're sitting on by the back, turning you to face him. Then he sets his hands on the marble countertop on either side of you, effectively boxing you in. Even sitting on the tall bar stool, you have to tilt your head a bit to look up at him. When your eyes meet again, the green isn't as soft or kind as you're expecting. "I don't like how you're talking about yourself right now."

"I'm just being honest. I'm taxing to deal with; people get tired of me. My past relationships have certainly taught me that I'm only desirable under the right conditions. And I am stupid. I just ruined our whole night because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. What kind of normal person asks one of their best friends to fuck a baby into them unprompted?"

"Oh wow, I'm not even sure where to start with all that." Jake breathes. You can't take seeing his furrowed brow and disappointed frown. So instead, you examine his right arm that's stretched by you, mapping out the moles and freckles there. "You've developed a warped sense of the truth, Doll."

It's your turn to scoff and roll your eyes. When you do, the arm you've been studying shifts, and Jake cups your cheek. Gently, he urges your face to turn back towards his, and a calloused thumb sweeps across your cheekbone. "Listen to me good now. The things you want and desire they ain't stupid, and neither are you. You're not too much. You're just enough."

"Thank you, Jake." You whisper. And while his words are kind, you don't really believe them.

"Don't say thank you."

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Say you believe me and mean it," Jake urges you.

"I don't want to lie to you. That's not who we are, that's not our friendship," You say. Jake's hand drops from your cheek, and he steps back quickly as if he's been burned. After you had been so surrounded by him, you nearly reach out to urge him close again. Running a hand through his hair, you can tell he's resisting the urge to pace.

"Is that our friendship, one built on honesty?"

"I thought so."

"Then I've failed you, and I've failed us because it's not."

"Jake, what are you talking about?" You ask him, confused. He shakes his head at you and doesn't respond, instead backing away further until he is abandoning you in the kitchen. Swiftly, you stand to follow him, "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"And going where? This is your house," you remind him. You've caught up to him in the doorway of his bedroom, where he's grabbing a hat and his wallet. "I'm sorry I ruined tonight, and I'll leave. You have to be honest with me before I do, though. I have to know we're going to be okay tomorrow."

"I can't," Jake says tersely, not meeting your eyes and attempting to sidestep you in the doorway.

"I was wrongly under the impression there wasn't anything you couldn't do, Hangman. But I guess we are finding a lot of things you just can't do tonight, aren't we?" You aren't expecting the little lash out of a taunt to get you anywhere. Jake is normally always calm, cool, and collected, acting with decisive precision. However, nearly as soon as you've finished speaking, Jake's hands are on your arms, and he backs you up until you gently hit the wall of the hallway across from his door.

"You're asking for more self-restraint than I have, Doll." He warns roughly. The sudden movement doesn't make you back down like he was probably expecting. Instead, the rush makes you feel emboldened.

"I don't care. I can accept you don't want a baby with me, that you don't want to fuck me. I can accept that you want to force me to talk, but I can't accept you making me question our friendship."

"Oh god. You really don't understand. My honesty is not going to make this better," he warns.

"Yes, I do. Whatever it is, please tell me. I can think of many things you could be referring to, like that I'm not attractive to you. How I would make a terrible mother. Maybe I'm not a good friend. Or you don't actually like spending time with me. Whatever it is, you have to tell me. I've never thought you would lie to me. So, I need to know, or it's going to drive me crazy."

"There you are, all twisted up again," Jake sighs.

"And whose fault is that?" You snap back. Jake still has you pressed against the wall, so you set your hands on his broad chest with the intention of pushing him away. However, he doesn't budge; in fact, he does the opposite, coming even closer so he is flush against you. You refuse to tilt your chin to look up at him as he looms, rather only lifting your eyes in a cold stare. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're going to leave me hanging to dry, but you could at least —"

You don't get to finish the thought because a hand has snaked to hold the side of your neck, thumb tucking under your chin, turning your face upwards to Jake's waiting lips. The first brush of his lips on yours doesn't line up quite right, but that doesn't stop your breath from catching. Shifting to get a better angle, Jake applies two more feather light kisses. Your hands, which are still resting on his chest, creep up, and you loop them around his shoulders, using the leverage to lift higher on your toes and get closer to him.

This prompts him to deepen his next kiss, lips moving harder against yours. When you open your mouth wider in invitation, Jake's tongue traces along your bottom lip but doesn't dive in. You whine when Jake pulls away to take a breath.

"Forgive me, Doll, I should've asked first."

"Asked what?" You wonder, not moving your eyes away from his lips and strategizing how to get them back on yours. You think if you could just get a little higher, you would be able to kiss him without Jake needing to bend down so much.

"May I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes, please." You answer immediately. You tug your hold on his shoulders, hoping it will urge him to get right back to it. Jake doesn't, though. His hand shifts from your neck to cup your cheek again, his other leaving the wall to settle on your waist.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes, Jake." His hand traces up your side from your waist and back down again in what is a soothing motion. It's too soft and delicate for what you want right now, though, so you tug on his neck again, pressing your chest into his. He gives in this time, molding his lips to yours once more.

When his tongue meets yours, a low rumble emulates from Jake's chest, and the sound sends a new wave of arousal coursing through you. Reaching up, you push off Jake's hat, not caring where it falls, only that it's no longer in your way. When you thread your fingers into his hair, it's smooth and silky, providing no resistance when you tug it.

"Tell me what you want, Doll," Jake says when your lips part again.

"You. I want you," you whimper, tugging his hair again. A wide grin breaks across Jake's face, and his eyes crinkle around the edges. He tucks his face into your neck, and you can still feel him smiling.

"What else do you want?" He questions. When his lips brush a spot that makes you stretch your neck to give him easier access, he nips it lightly. You stumble, coming up with a response, just sighing his name as he finds another spot to bite. "Come on now, you said it so pretty earlier. Tell me again."

Once his request processes through your lust filled brain, you push on Jake's shoulders once more. This time, he doesn't resist, backing away from you and creating some space between your heated bodies. Sagging against the wall, you try to catch your breath while examining Jake. His hair is disheveled now, some of it falling across his forehead.

"You said no, you don't want that with me. You don't want this with me," You answer, finally dropping your gaze to examine the grain of the hardwood floor near your feet. Confusion at this sudden turn in attitude from him settles over you as your head clears. One of Jake's hands enters your field of vision, turned upwards in an offering. "Come sit, we need to set some things straight."

Taking Jake's hand, he curls his fingers with yours and gently tugs you back through the doorway of his room. With his direction, you perch on the edge of his four poster bed. Jake presses a kiss to the back of your hand and lets it go to settle on the accent chair that's in the corner.

"We'll be honest, right?" You say hesitantly, already missing the feeling of Jake's hand in yours.

"Yes. I'll be honest." Jake answers reassuringly before continuing, "From the beginning, I never wanted to be friends with you.

"You didn't?"

"Nope," he says, popping the p. "I never wanted to be friends, and then once we were friends, I was stuck. You didn't seem to want the same things as I did, and I'm not the kind of man to complain about the friend zone."

"I haven't friend you zoned you," you say, scandalized at the suggestion.

"Just earlier tonight, you asked me to have a baby with you, platonically," Jake deadpans.

"Because I can't conceptualize you wanting me any other way."

"I want you. I've always wanted you, but not platonically, baby."

Baby. Jake was a casual sweet name user, there was doll, sweetheart, honey, darling, those all were commonplace, but baby was new. Hearing it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. He called you baby, and he has wanted you. You could have had him from the start if your fears and insecurities hadn't held you back.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to need me, to love me," Jake explains with more hesitation than you've ever heard from him as if he is tip-toeing through this conversation. Worrying your fingers together, you have to take a calming breath to settle your own hesitation before answering him, "Well, that's easy because I do."

A gleeful grin stretches across his face, and it's so bright you feel a matching one appear. He rubs a hand over his face, hiding it from view for a moment, and when you see his face again, he is still smiling. He looks as if he is trying to bite it back but can't quite manage.

"Well, alright, a few more things we have to iron out then. I love spending time with you. You've never not been desirable to me." You can't help a disbelieving laugh when Jake says that, and the look he gives you is disapproving. "I mean that. I was thinking about it even the time I came over to bring you soup when you had the flu. Wanted to bundle you up and crawl into bed with you."

"Oh, come on, that can't be true. I was so gross."

"It is. I promised I would be honest, and I'm not going to be breaking any of the promises I make to you. Can you believe that?"

You study his face, tracing over his nose, and jaw. He still has the hint of a grin that hasn't slid off his features yet, and he looks so very earnest. You can't imagine that Jake would be in the business of lying to you, and the openness he is offering makes it feel like you can believe him. That you can keep trusting him just like you always have. "I can believe that."

"Great. So, baby —"

"Yes?" You say entirely too breathily before he can even finish the sentence. It was really a surprise how much hearing him say that already turned your brain to some form of liquid.

"I want to sleep with you," Jake says plainly.

"Then why are you all the way over there?"

"I didn't want you to feel any sort of pressure while we were talking, and wasn't confident I could keep my hands to myself."

Standing up from his bed, you walk steadily over to the chair Jake is sitting in. Crawling into his lap more confidently than you truly feel, his hands automatically slip around your waist, steading you against him. Holding eye contact with him, you say, "I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Fuck, you're going to kill me," he sighs, tightening his hold on you. You go to kiss him again, but when you do, he blurts out, "I don't have any STDs or STIs." His cheeks stain a little pink, and he looks as surprised by the declaration as you are.

"That's good to know. I'm clean too," you inform him.

"Good to know. I just thought it was important to put it out there. Got to do safety checks first and everything. I don't want us to have any questions or be unsure about anything, and it's important to consider all the factors involved with —" Jake's rambling comes to a halt when you dip your face into his neck, kissing at the underside of his jaw softly.

"Jake," you say, linking your arms around his neck and playing with the short hair there. "Will you give me a baby?"

"Fuck, Doll. I promise to give you anything you want. The ring, the house, the baby. It's yours."

You don't waste any time kissing him. When your lips meet, all the hesitancy and nervousness that Jake had while you were talking melts away. His mouth confidently teases yours open for his tongue to quickly follow. Your hands thread into Jake's hair again as his start to roam your back, sides, and arms. When you wiggle closer on his lap, he groans and grabbing a handful of your ass, lifting you up. Jake stands easily and walks you back to the bed.

He doesn't drop you on the bed like you're expecting. Instead, he sets you down gently, one of his hands cradling the back of your head as he does. Laying on your back with Jake standing over you reminds you just how large and broad he is.

With surprisingly little fanfare, he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. Jake shirtless is not a new sight; in fact, it's a tantalizing one you've seen too often. He has every right to be proud of his body, you know how much time he dedicates at the gym. So it shouldn't be a surprise that, never one to be self conscious, Jake hardly could be found wearing a shirt if the situation didn't require it. However, you realize this is the first time that you don't just have to look but can also touch.

Wanting to get the nervousness of undressing out of the way, you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and tossing it aside. Before you can shimmy out of your bottoms, Jake's large hands are on your wrists, stopping you.

"You're doing my job," he chastises huskily. Jake is slow and meticulous in removing your clothes, running his hands over all the skin that's exposed to him. When he pulls off your bra, leaving you only in your panties, he just sits back and stares for a moment. Such intense scrutiny from his gaze has you covering your chest, crossing your legs, and looking away.

"I wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone tonight," you mutter, knowing that you don't have the sexiest underwear on and perhaps were not as physically prepared for this intimacy as you would like.

"Good," he says lowly. "No one else is going to get to see you like this anymore." Grabbing an ankle in each big hand, he spreads you out for him. He slides off your panties so you're completely bare, and takes up his staring once more. "Ain't you fucking gorgeous?" Jake mutters and you realize he ain't talking about you necessarily; he's talking to your pussy. Whining his name gets Jake to shove off his sweatpants, leaving him in a pair of dark grey boxer briefs as he crawls over your body.

As he kisses you again, your hands greedily explore his exposed skin. His chest hair proving to be much softer than you had imagined it, and his shoulders are taut as he holds himself up. While Jake's lips move with yours, you use a leg to encourage him to ease more of his weight into you, seeking friction. Kissing down your neck he lavishes attention to your breasts, licking and sucking his way across your skin.

"You know, I was too busy to make dessert," he says when he reaches your core. One of his hands teasingly traces all around the skin. Placing a kiss on your inner thigh, he asks, "Do you mind filling in?"

"Jake, you don't need to." You say, trying not to squirm when his fingers dip between your lips.

"I want to. Do you not want me to?"

"I know it's not everyone's thing," you answer, giving him an out.

"It's my thing," Jake says. His eyes lock onto the cleft of you, and he licks his lip, biting at the bottom one. Reaching up, he grabs one of your hands and brings it up to his hair, encouraging you to thread your fingers there. His fingers that are teasing you spread you open more, and he groans, "Oh yeah you're my thing."

Jake's tongue traces over you, probing until he finds the spot that makes your hips jump. Once Jake finds your clit he doesn't waste his time. Widening his mouth, he latches on and sucks. While he starts gently, he ramps up to sucking hard and twisting his tongue as he does. When you pull at his hair, he moans encouragingly.

"More," you request tugging his hair gently. Jake listens, sliding a finger into you. Whispering praise into your thighs about how pretty you are and how good you taste. You don't know how long Jake spends between your thighs, but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry. He sucks and licks, fucking his finger into you until the sound is sloppy and wet. He slips a second finger in, stretching you, occasionally scissoring them wider open in you.

Even when you are whining and gasping, working against Jake's tongue, he doesn't let up. You don't have the mind to worry how you're trying to suffocate him with your thighs, which he keeps pushing back open with no complaints. All that you can focus on is Jake, how good he is making you feel, and how close you're getting. It's a matter of time until you're shuddering and falling apart for him.

Continuing to lavish attention even as you jerk with sensitivity, Jake seems content to keep eating you out. You try to pull him away by his hair, but he just licks into you harder. "Jake, enough," you whine, trying to wiggle away from his mouth.

"I haven't had my fill yet, Doll," he says, pulling his mouth off you but not going far, pressing wet kisses to your thighs.

"I haven't even seen your cock yet, and I don't know why it isn't in me." You say, trying to reason with him. It doesn't come out very strong, though as Jake's fingers curl in you, making your cunt flutter.

"Patience is a virtue," he teases.

"Being virtuous isn't really at the forefront of my mind at the moment."

Jake sighs dramatically and presses one more kiss to your pussy before sitting back on his haunches. You can see the hard outline of him in his briefs as he gets off the bed. You watch his every move closely, more than ready to finally see him naked.

However, Jake is clearly taking some sort of joy from making you wait, because he detours to start picking up your hastily thrown clothing. As he is laying them out on the chair, you lose your patience. Grabbing one of his decorative pillows, you throw it at him. It smacks him between his shoulder blades before dropping to the floor with a thunk.

Spinning to face you, Jake crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge, his eyebrow raised. "Did you just hit me with a pillow?"

"No, I wouldn't do that," You deny trying to look innocent. Jake tsks at you, picking up the makeshift weapon and setting that neatly on the chair as well.

"Being desperate for my cock isn't an excuse to misbehave, baby."

"Big talk for someone who still hasn't shown it to me. It's okay if you don't have a pretty dick, Jake. It won't change how I feel. I'm still going to want you to fuck me."

Goading someone into action was a wonderful tactic you had learned over the course of your friendship with Jake. Something he easily did with others, and something tonight that it proved was just as effective against him because he doesn't even respond to your words. Sliding off his underwear, his dick springs free. He's hard from eating you out, and just from the first glance you get, it's clear there isn't one thing for him to be self-conscious about.

The fleshy pink length is nestled among dark hair, and the size of him is nothing to dismiss. It's a very symmetrical cock, lining up nicely with his balls and adonis belt. Bouncing a bit as he gets back on the bed, you can't bring yourself to look away. You know he is going to fill you so deliciously. When he's finally close enough for you to touch, you hesitate though.

"Speechless?" Jake wonders, with no ounce of shame or self-consciousness present.

"Can I touch?" You ask. Jake nods, taking your hand and bringing it to your mouth. You suck a few of your fingers in, wetting them with your spit. Then he guides your hand to his dick, encouraging you to wrap it around him. Jake's hand covers yours for the first few strokes, showing you what he likes, but then it falls away, letting you explore. He grunts when you trace one of the veins that runs along the side, following it down to cup his balls. He allows your teasing for a few more strokes before he pulls you close, kissing you hard.

The hard planes of Jake's naked body pressed against yours is nearly too much. He is so close and yet not close enough. With some gentle maneuvering, Jake is in between your legs and checking that the position is comfortable for you. Jake runs his length through your lips, the head bumping into your clit. Despite all the encouragement and build up, he's still not in a hurry. When his cock is wet from you, it starts to slide effortlessly. Losing your patience, you cup Jake's face, making him look you in the eyes.

"Jake, fuck me now. Please." You say. He nods, kissing you slowly. Then finally, he grabs his cock lining himself up and pushing the tip into you. When his pelvis meets yours, he holds himself there, your breaths mingling together in light pants as he stretches you out. The time he gives you to stretch and adjust is necessary, but once you have, Jake fills you deliciously.

"How're you feeling baby?" He asks. Your thumb moves across his cheekbone, soothing until the worry lines between his eyebrows disappear. Only responding when you know you're okay and so is he, "Perfect. Feel so full of you."

"I'll fill you up," Jake promises.

"Yeah?" You ask. He hums his agreement and rocks his hips against your experimental, drawing a small gasp from you.

"Promise," he says, starting a lazy punctuated rhythm, moving his hips against yours. Your hands explore the skin of his back as he thrusts into you. You hike a leg up on Jake's hips, letting him get a little deeper in you. The action makes him moan, and he pulls your other leg up around his hip, too.

Hooking your ankles together, you use the leverage to encourage Jake to fuck into you faster. Digging your heels into his ass and lifting your hips up to meet each of his thrusts increases the heat boiling between you. His face falling into your neck, Jake starts whispering dirty praise about how good you feel around him and how long he's been dreaming about this.

Stamina clearly isn't something that Jake is lacking in. He fucks you until you are both dripping with sweat, and you are begging for him noncoherently, unable to process anything but how good his cock feels. He maintains a steady rhythm, snapping his hips to meet yours the whole time.

"You feel so good. Want to get you there again. What do you need?" Jake pants huskily.

"Harder," you answer shakily, snaking your hand to play with your clit. You're close, and you know it's not going to take much more for you to get there with how long Jake's been building you up. He listens, slamming his hips more pointedly into you, grinding his pelvis every time he bottoms out.

Huffing, Jake pulls out of you a few minutes later. Making you cry out wantonly, reaching for his retreating body. He takes a moment to kiss both your hands that he unhooks from his neck. Then, shushing you gently, he grabs a pillow and lifting your hips, he slides it under them.

"It's okay, just a little better angle." He explains to you. You flop back on the bed, content to have Jake manhandle you any which way he wants if it means he'll be in you again.

"Oh, you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" He asks, as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty and wanting him. His fingers dipping in to play with the wet dripping from you. A flash of shame passes through you as he asks that. You drop your arms that had been reaching out for him back to the bed, and you screw your eyes shut, turning your face to the side looking away from him.

Jake had already got you to cum once, and it was possible he didn't want you all over him as he was trying to get off now. Preferences were probably something y'all should have talked about more in depth before jumping into intimacy. You didn't want him to think you were overly needy or hard to please. You didn't want to ruin what you and Jake could have the very first time together. Noticing the shift in your enthusiasm Jake immediately stops pressing his cock into you, worriedly asking, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you answer, staring up at the ceiling looking for patterns there. It's easier to play this off if you don't have to look at him; easier if you don't have to acknowledge the unexpected, unwelcome swell of emotion that's overcoming you.

"Doll, look at me." He orders you, but you shake your head, refusing. Jake grips your chin, tilting your face to meet his eyes. They are intense studying you intently, completely focused on you. "The honesty we just promised each other needs to extend to sex nearly more than anywhere else going forward with this relationship," Jake says seriously. His hard dick is pressed against your thigh, and you don't know how he's able to have such a level-headed conversation considering the circumstances, just having been balls deep in you a minute ago. "So, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to be too high maintenance or needy," You sigh, trying to work through your words. Knowing this conversation is important, but also not completely sure how to express what you're feeling. "Sometimes I might seem needy, or maybe I could take a while to cum or not at all, which wouldn't be a reflection of you. I don't want you to think, well, I don't want to be too much for you to change your mind about this, and now I'm ruining the mood with a dumb fucking insecurity."

"Stop," Jake says gently, but leaving no room for argument. "You haven't ruined anything. I'm sorry I called your pussy needy. I didn't know it would make you feel this way. Can I tell you something, though, Doll?" When you give a hesitant nod, Jake's voice drops so low it's nearly gravelly. "I want you to be needy. I want your pussy desperate for my cock, desperate for my cum. I want you as desperate for me as I am for you."

"You're desperate for me too?"

"Frantically and wildly so." He answers easily. Then he asks with his thumb ghosting over your nub, "Are we okay? Is this still okay?"

"Yeah, this is good," You sigh, enjoying the zing that runs up your back when he nudges your clit more pointedly.

Jake grabs his cock, giving it a few languid strokes before he guides it back into you. You push your hips up to meet him. The new angle that the pillow gives him leverage to hit somewhere that's just a delicious feeling. As he rocks into you, his thumb maintains its place on your clit. Your fear of the mood having been ruined proves wrong as the coil in your core quickly builds, pushing you near the edge once more.

"Cum in me, Jake, please. Give me a baby," you request, your thighs quivering as you near your orgasm.

As his hips snap nearly frantically, Jake rolls your clit over in nearly the same rhythm. He moans your name a minute later, falling over the edge and spilling inside of you. Though his hips stutter to a stop leaving himself fully seated in you, he continues working over your clit. It doesn't take long until you're dissolving into pleasure along with him.

The ripples run through your body, and you feel every muscle tense and relax, turning into jelly. Jake grunts when you spasm around him but doesn't move or pull out until you've fully melted into the bed on the downward crest of your peak.

When he does pull out, he doesn't go far, shifting enough to spoon you. Settling behind you, Jake pulls you close to his chest, wrapping you tight in his arms. His hand is tracing lazy patterns on your hip and occasionally venturing to the soft skin of your belly. You don't have the mind to be self-conscious at the moment, still a little too blissed out. It takes significant brain power to process his question when he asks, "Do you actually want to have a baby?"

"Do you?" You wonder.

"You can't answer a question with a question," Jake chastises you. Turning in his arms so you are sprawled against his chest, you snuggle close, nuzzling him affectionately.

"Do you know how it was seeing you with Jackson today?" You ask him.

"If it was even half of how it felt seeing you hold him, then I'm sorry."

"Whatever you felt, double it. Triple it even." You say lightly. "It was enough for me to ask my friend, who I thought could never want me, for a baby."

"I do want you," Jake immediately reassures you.

"Thank goodness for baby fever, then. Because at least now we know we want each other," you reason, slowly starting to draw mindless patterns of your own against his skin.

Jake heaves a sigh and strokes his hand down your back, wondering, "Was this just baby fever?"

"No," you answer after thinking about it for a long span of silence. "I would have a baby with you. It seems right. I want that, I think." You can feel the relief in his body, hearing that, all his tension easing into relaxation.

"Good," is the only response he gives you, kissing the crown of your head. You expect more but don't get it. Rather, Jake seems content to just bask in the afterglow. That doesn't seem to be too bad an idea, so you close your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you're not alone in bed. However, you are now under the covers of a different comforter than there was before, and Jake is no longer acting as your pillow. He is on the other side of the bed, but his hand is stretched out, grazing the middle of your back.

Rolling to face him, you admire the sight he makes stretched out on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jake's got a book open, folded in half, clearly abusing the book's binding just so he can have one hand on you. When he notices you sleepily admiring him, Jake shoots you a soft smile.

"Hey baby," he whispers.

"Hi," You whisper back scooting closer to him and grab the hand that had been touching you, threading your fingers together.

"Let's go on a date," Jake suddenly springs on you, squeezing your hand.

"I would love that," you respond, feeling giddy as butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Want something first, though."

"I already told you I would give you anything you want, and I meant it," Jake says, setting his book on his bedside table and giving you his full attention.

"Good, because I want round two and a shower, which hopefully has round three involved."

"Your wish is my command," Jake says easily. You move even closer to him so your lips are only a breath apart. "I meant it, the ring, the house, the baby. I can make it all happen by tomorrow."

"Let's start with breakfast in bed," you say, kissing him hard. When your lips hardly touch because you're both smiling too wide, well, that actually makes it feel all the better.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #hangman imagine #hot hot hot!#hoeing for hangman

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chelseeebe · 8 months

Text

on my knees (for you).

a/n: more virgin!eddie tales WOOO!! i just can’t shake this little pathetic man and i want to write him being so down bad for ever and ever. thinking of some steddiexreader that includes the little virgin boy too…

this is a continuation to seven minutes in heaven but really can be read on its own, it just mentions events that happened in the first fic.

18+. smut. mentions of weed. eddie being horrifically pathetic again. no mentions of y/n.

eddie’s sure you’ve pavlov’d him.

his cock springs into action the second you appear. and see that wouldn’t be a bad thing except for the fact that he sees you multiple times a day, in class or around campus and it makes him look like a dirty perv.

even now, he’s sat trying to kill it off as you sit next to him eating your lunch. thigh brushing against his every now and again and his mind is going wild. he’s trying to think what would happen if he just lifted you onto the table and fucked the shit out of you right here.

well, in all actuality, he’d probably last all of about ten thrusts before busting a nut and subsequently dying of embarrassment. maybe it’s not wise.

the thing is, now you had this little arrangement with each other, his erections had been ramped up to level ten. and he solely blames you for that, by the way.

he’d never known someone to be so eager all the time. you’re like a fucking rabbit. tearing at his clothes the minute you’re alone already soaking your little panties. eddie had debated swiping some last time he was over but had decided against it at the last minute which he sorely regretted the second he got home.

it had mostly just been a lot of you riding him in an attempt to get him to last longer than just a few minutes so you hadn’t really.. experimented much. he didn’t mind though, getting to stare at your tits bouncing in his face as you fucked yourself on his cock? how could he complain?

your fingers wrap around his knee, leaning in to his ear, ‘i’m free for the next two hours.. what about you?’ ever so slowly traipsing your fingers higher, his cock jumping to attention. not here. please not fucking here.

he’s got steve harrington sat opposite and really does not fancy having to explain to him as to why he’s this hard at lunch time.

it wasn’t like it was a matter of life or death but it was just easier to keep doing this without everyone knowing. because then it becomes a thing and nobody wanted that. eddie’s sure at least some people have gathered what’s happening. especially argyle who had woken up rather confused to find you spooning him on your tiny couch, but had just let out a tiny bro? and fallen right back to sleep.

‘i-i have class,’ tentatively placing his hand on yours to stop it ascending any further. eyeing the other participants at the table. oh fuck. steve definitely knew. looking over with a slight glint of humour in his eye, waiting until you re-emerged from eddie’s ear to say something.

the stupid smug prick. he probably couldn’t wait to humiliate eddie in front of all your friends. then he’d swoop in with his blonde highlights and tinted strawberry lip balm. he couldn’t stand it.

surely you weren’t interested in that? really, eddie is the complete opposite of whatever the fuck that is and there’s no way in hell you’d continue to fuck him if you weren’t a fan.

‘skip class for me?’ you whisper into his ear. for me. for me. fuck. he’d do anything for you. you could’ve told him to flip the table so you could fuck right here and he would’ve.

his breath hitches in his throat but he nods quickly, squeezing your hand and dipping his head low. the bulge in his jeans was fairly obvious at this point but maybe if he got up quick enough no one would be able to tell.

your hand vacates his leg, leaving a burning sensation in it’s wake. you’re shoving your shit into your bag, standing from the shared table. oh you meant now. while over your friends were still here. you were going to walk off together. to your room. oh god. that wasn’t obvious, was it?

‘where are you goin’?’ steve asks, watching intently when you jab at eddie’s shoulder to make him move. he does immediately, grabbing his back pack and determining just how he can slide out of here without showcasing his hard on to the world.

‘we’re going to smoke.. that alright with you?’ you remark, hands poised on your hips. eddie loved it when you were like this. his heart racing faster every time you scolded him or pouted those pretty, plump lips his way.

‘sweet, i’ll come!’ argyle sits up straight, awakened by the mention of weed. of course.

‘no,’ you bark, getting fed up of waiting for eddie to stand up and instead grabbing his collar, yanking at the denim, ‘sorry, closed invitation,’ wiggling your eyebrows at the long haired boy.

this elicits a chorus of ooohs from the table as eddie finally slides from the bench, turning immediately to follow your lead. he felt like a massive loser following you around. if you got him a leash and told him to get on all fours he would. and he likes think that that’s understandable.

‘oh my god they’re so annoying,’ you hush, his legs rushing to catch up with your irritated strides. did he look like such a lost dog to other people? not that he cared much.

‘i know.. it’s steve,’ he replies, realising that there was probably too much venom in that response to pass it off as something casual. yeah, maybe he was still a tiny smidgen jealous that you two had such natural chemistry. he is human after all. anybody would be.

‘he’s an ass but it’s all of them, so nosy,’ you chuckle, linking your arm with his now that you’re out of view of your prying friends.

he had wondered if you were ashamed of him, or to be seen with him at least. it was understandable, you were literally smoking hot and he was.. a pathetic little nerd who was completely obsessed with you. but to stand up and quiet openly lead him off to your room in front of everyone, maybe you weren’t.

‘you’re not like.. ashamed to fuck me, are you?’ regretting it the instant it came out of his mouth. he didn’t want to know the answer really. and even if you were, he wasn’t going to complain. it’s not like girls were falling at his feet, let alone girls as pretty as you.

‘no!’ you hit his arm, expelling the breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, ‘eddie be serious, it’s not like they don’t all know anyway,’ rounding the corner to your house.

he had snuck in a multitude of times over the last few weeks, in fact it was every day at this point. running up the stairs past nancy’s room, thinking how much easier it would be if you were on the ground floor. then he might be able to shuffle through your window and back out in the early hours.

you fumble for your keys, knowing that the house would be empty at this time and quite proudly let him in the door. he doesn’t reply to your answer because he had assumed that the pair of you were successful at being incredibly sneaky.

‘do you have a problem with it being a secret?’ you ask, the door slamming shut behind you.

oh god no. even if he did, he’d never tell you in fear of ruining it all. the only thing he wanted to do was to rub it into steve’s annoying face. ha ha. this massive loser had gotten into your pants before he had. well, at least he thinks.

‘no,’ it comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, which he chastises himself for straight away. if he had half the confidence any normal person had, he would’ve stopped this conversation in its tracks. shoved you back against the wall or something and shut you up with his mouth.

‘no?’

‘yeah, no,’ he repeats, sounding much more assured in himself.

‘good,’ you mutter and he notices the glint in your eye, hints of a smirk beginning to appear. he blinks and you’re stood before him, eyeing up his lips. his jeans had just got a hell of a lot tighter.

isn’t it crazy that someone’s eyes could have that affect on someone? or actually, how just the sheer presence of them in the room could have someone stumbling over their words.

‘i.. don’t care at all,’ staggered breaths as he’s backed up against the wall, shoulder blade hitting into one of the framed pictures on the wall. he wants to yelp at the pain but instead keeps his eyes solidly on yours.

he’s been practicing you see. watching any and all videos he could find of how to be a dominant man alongside copious amounts of porn and had gathered a bunch of mens help magazines. they were supposed to teach him how to be more strong willed, to flip the upper hand over to him.

except, they’d really done nothing at all. well actually, he’d now discovered that his hand was no longer sufficient compared to the earth shattering orgasms you’d given him. if there was a way for him to bottle that feeling, he’s sure that it’d be more addicting than heroin. probably make more money, too.

‘shall we go upstairs?’ you ask, eyelashes fluttering. yes. god yes. he’s desperate to get upstairs and into your room so he can disappoint you for five whole minutes this time.

‘yes.. yes please,’ his chest rising and falling rapidly. everything he had practiced had gone to shit the second you’d touched him. brilliant.

you simply smirk, grabbing his hand to lead him up the stairs the exact same way you had the last five nights of this week.

shoving him into your bedroom and kicking the door shut behind you. you’re ferocious with it. and he wonders if you needed him as badly as he needed you. he just longed to be inside of you or next to you or just in the same room as you. he needed that feeling pumped into him intravenously.

you’re on him the second the door’s shut, grabbing at his chest, his shirt and his pants all at once. pushing him back towards your unmade bed with such urgency that he stumbles, pulling you on top of him. your lips are everywhere, pecking at his jawline and his neck. going over the violet markings you’d left previously. he was embarrassed about them at first but had quickly learned to appreciate them and the fact that you weren’t afraid to mark him.

you’re shuffling out of your jeans already, kicking them off of your ankle as you rest your knees either side of his thighs. he only notices because the frilly lace waistband of your panties catches against the button on his jeans. are these what you wear normally or is this something you did for him?

a low moan is pulled from his throat when your skilful fingers unbutton his jeans and make their way onto his rock hard cock. did you paint your fingernails for him too? the shimmering violet looked so good wrapped around his cock. he’s sure any colour would as long as it was on your hand.

‘always so hard for me, aren’t you?’ you mutter against his neck, still fondling his sensitive balls. his toes curl in his socks, keeping both feet firmly on the floor in an effort to ground himself.

there’d been a few instances of him cumming.. prematurely. and by prematurely he means, the second you touched him. he blames those times on the weed though. it was the only reasonable explanation.

‘s-sit on my face,’ he blurts out, unaware of what dark hole that had come from.

your eyes narrow, gazing down at him with your mouth hung open. that was definitely the wrong thing to say. he’d seen it in this one video and had started salivating at the thought of your pillowy thighs wrapped around his ears.

eddie hadn’t quite been able to make you cum yet. like, he was certainly making progress and you’d gotten close a couple of times but you had ultimately had to get yourself off. which he loved to watch.. he just wanted to be involved. he lived in pure amazement at how you just seemed to get there so quickly. sometimes it wasn’t even a minute with your hand between your thighs and you were whining and writhing around. how?

‘eds.. that’s- are you sure?’ eyeing him cautiously. why didn’t you just trust him? he’s pretty confident he had the technique down, ashamedly having practiced on his hand one night. yeah, that was awkward.

and the erection it had given him was too.

‘i’m sure.. please,’ he had figured out that as soon as he begged for something, he pretty much got it. maybe you had a fetish for pathetic men or something but all he had to do was plead a little and you were pouncing on him.

‘do you even know-,’

‘-yes i know what to do,’ he barks a little hastily. at least now you’d either punish him or would listen to him. either was fine.

you eyebrows fly up your forehead and he thinks for a second that he’s really in the shit. his cock jumps at the thought of you slapping him again or even better, wrapping your hand around his neck like you’d done the other day. now that really got him going.

‘okay.. but if it’s too much let me know,’ lifting yourself from his waist and shuffling upward towards his head. he’s drooling just thinking about it. wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs just as the man in the video had. he could keep you in place perfectly like this.

‘come on,’ he sighs, watching as you slide your underwear down and off to the side, stopped just before his eager, salivating mouth. everything he had practiced came down to this very moment and he was more than ready to show you what he’d learned.

‘you’re so bossy now.. i don’t like it,’ frowning down to him, hand coming to hold onto your headboard. he had hoped that you’d pull on his hair again but was for sure not going to ask. ‘remember to tell me if it’s too much.. slap me or something, i’ll know,’ biting down onto your bottom lip.

he nods quickly, eyes sliding away from yours to your pussy poised above him. now, he didn’t have any much experience with pussy but he’d say that yours was perfect.

without wanting to waste anymore time, he pulls you down onto his mouth, tongue immediately lapping at your folds. just the way he’d practiced. he didn’t really have any preconceptions of what pussy would taste like but he’s pleasantly surprised. he’d keep you here all day if he could, who needed to breathe anyway?

‘ho-holy shit,’ you remark, clawing at your bed frame for a little balance. he thinks that’s a good thing, eyes trained on your face to determine whether he was doing this right or not.

his tongue slides up, circling around your sensitive clit. yeah, that’s it. he can tell when your eyes roll into the back of your head, hips stuttering on his face.

‘jesus eddie,’ you breathe, just hearing his name tumble from your lips does fucking wonders for him. it’s all the encouragement he needs to continue his assault on your cunt.

he murmurs something in utter gratitude when your hand leaves the headboard to instead tangle into his hair. mouth vibrating against your pussy which is another hit. the gorgeous sounds of your moans fill the room, only slightly muffled by your legs over his ears.

it’s now or never. he has to pull out the big guns.

tongue leaving your clit to slide into your dripping hole. soaking his chin, his lips and probably his shirt in your arousal. he didn’t mind one bit. it’s like a badge of honour to know that he was responsible for the mess.

‘fuck,’ you hiss, fisting his curls as your eyes squeeze shut. eddie wants to scream when your eyes roll back, his fingers digging into your fleshy thighs.

oh my god. this was paradise. utter heaven. his heart swelling a little knowing that you were cussing fretting because of his mouth. you were so gorgeous from this angle. well, from all angles but particularly this one. looking totally blissed out on top of him, your lips opening to let out the most insatiable noises he’d ever heard.

your fingers yank at his curls, legs trembling around his flushed face, ‘i’m gonna- eds, i’m cumming,’ thighs clamping around his head as your hips roll forward on their own, trying to escape the overstimulation.

eddie’s desperate to keep you there, using his palms to hold you steady while he’s literally making out with your pussy. lapping at your clit, at the juices that now covered his face. except his stomach tightens, slowing his pace until he realises what’s happening.

oh shit.

his hips buck up into the air on their own and his boxers feel incredibly wet and sticky. he’s just came in his pants by eating you out. that’s ridiculous. utterly unbelievable that someone could be that tragic.

you were definitely going to laugh at him when you realised but there’s literally not a chance that he could hide that. he lets go of his grip on your thighs, moving one hand over his crotch as you shuffle off of him.

bastard. pathetic fucking bastard.

you hadn’t even touched him yet. how was he going to explain that? i’m just so sickly obsessed with you that i came in my pants. that didn’t sound like anything a normal person would say.

his eyes remain shut, laboured breathing as his mind attempts to take him out of this room and far, far away. it’s not fucking working. especially not when he can hear your panting next to him, the rustling of the sheets as you sort them out.

your eyes travel to his covered crotch with a confused expression until you notice the dark latch and it finally clicks. ‘did you cum in your pants?’ you exclaim and he thinks that this right here might just kill him off.

he nods quickly, point blank refusing to open his eyes. it was easier this way, at least his tears of embarrassment would be somewhat hidden. you could’ve just done the polite thing and ignored it. made up some excuse about going to class and then you could disappear from his life. god, why did you have to be such a-

‘that’s so hot,’ you continue, cutting his thoughts short at just the right spot. pressing your warm body into his side as you settle into bed.

‘what? no it’s not..’ brave enough to open his eyes to look at you, confusion plastered over his face. surely you were just joking. no woman in the history of the world would find his inadequacy hot.

‘who are you to tell me what i can or can’t find hot?’ prodding at his cheek, offence ribbed throughout your response.

this surely requires a marriage proposal or something of that nature, right? like, there’s not a possibility that he could ever let you get away now.

his lips twitch into a smile, taking his hand from his crotch to wrap his arm around your shoulder. the confidence was next level and almost unheard of but he had to show you a little appreciation after you’d just told him his premature orgasm was attractive.

‘don’t ever tell me what i can and can’t like again,’ you jokingly warn, resting your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

he speaks up after a few moments of silence, unsure of if you’re even still awake, ‘thank you.. for letting me do that,’ staring up at the ceiling. eddie thinks that he likes eating pussy. really likes it. especially yours.

you laugh sleepily, throwing an arm over his torso. it’s music to his ears. if making you cum was top priority, then making you laugh was a solid number two.

‘you don’t have to thank me every time,’ yawning into his chest. it’s technically still the middle of the day but if you were going to sleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t complain.

instead he’d lie there as still as he possibly could. kinda like when a cat falls asleep on your lap and you just can’t move for the rest of the day. he’s prepared to take that sacrifice.

he must’ve dozed off at some point too because he wakes up to a short knock on your bedroom door.

you’re dead to the world. completely unaffected by the sound, curled into the blanket. super adorable with your cheeks squished togeth-

the door knocks again and he jumps up, not wanting whoever it is to wake you. he hadn’t exactly thought of the consequences of answering your door. half naked at that.

‘oh! eddie.. wasn’t expecting you,’ nancy responds, eyebrows flying up her forehead. he’s such a moron. it would’ve been ten times easier to just ignore the door because now he had to explain why he was stood in his underwear in your room.

perfect.

‘oh yeah.. got too high.. had to sleep it off, yanno?’ chuckling awkwardly, desperately trying to hide behind the door. he hopes to the high heavens that his boxers aren’t stained. he’d either look like the worlds biggest creep or like the completely pathetic freak that he was. he wasn’t keen on either option.

only you could know just how pitiful he truly was.

her eyes travel to his bare legs and back up again, ‘uh huh.. well, we’re ordering pizza if you two want in..?’ giving him a tiny smile. she’s so polite that now he just feels weird. god dammit, they’re friends, his pasty little legs being out should not make him feel so exposed.

‘oh yeah uh.. i’ll ask her,’ glancing over to your very unconscious state on the bed. he wasn’t keen on the idea of waking you but did think that it’d be rather unforgivable if he didn’t. plus he was hungry.

‘okay.. don’t take too long,’ wiggling her eyebrows at him and disappearing off back downstairs. shutting your door with a quiet click.

fucking nancy wheeler and her politeness.

he slinks back over to the bed, shaking your shoulder ever so gently, ‘hey.. wake up,’ trying his hardest not to alarm you.

it works somewhat, your eyes springing open as you wake. blinking up at him from your blanket cocoon. he feels terrible but man’s gotta eat. it does occur to him now that it would’ve been a pleasant surprise to wake you with a pizza rather than just so abruptly.

‘wha- what?’ rubbing your tired eyes as you come to. you’re so cute like this, he wouldn’t mind waking up to this sight every morning. okay, maybe he’s getting ahead of himself here.

‘er.. they’re ordering pizza.. nancy asked me if you wanted anything?’ still standing sheepishly over your bed. his eyes trail down to where your thigh had poked out of the duvet, how they were keeping his face warm barely a few hours ago..

‘oh,’ you sigh, ‘yeah.. just cheese please,’ snuggling back up into the bed, ‘there’s a twenty on my desk, get whatever you want,’ closing your eyes again.

‘oh.. okay,’ he nods, even though you obviously can’t see him. deciding that this time, he’ll be more appropriately dressed to converse with your roommates. seemed like the right thing to do. plus he’s sure robin would definitely have plenty to say if he came downstairs half-dressed. and none of it good.

he ignores the money on your desk. as fucking if he’d let you pay for your own food after you had so graciously fed him earlier. not happening. like, ever again.

following the voices into your kitchen to find nancy and robin sat around the kitchen island, phone poised in her hand ready to go.

‘you’re in luck, i was just about to call.. what d’you want?’ robin asks, raising a singular brow. nancy had obviously filled her in on what had been behind your bedroom door.

‘just cheese.. please,’ ignoring how ridiculous the unintended rhyme made him sound.

‘is that for both of you?’ she looks on, a glint of something indescribable in her eye. he wishes he knew how to decipher women. you’re all so fucking complicated and weird. in the best way, of course.

‘uh.. yeah?’ looking on tentatively, unsure of what she could possible be implying.

‘she won’t share, better to get your own,’ she nods. oh. she was being nice. he’s sure there’ll be a catch somewhere.

‘oh right.. okay,’ he fumbles around in his pocket for his wallet, tossing a couple twenties onto the marble. maybe if he covered their food too, he’d get in their good books and would be welcomed back with open arms. he’s sure he could endure that.

pay for food and get magnificent pussy in return. seemed fair.

the two girls sit in silence until he gets to the bottom of the stairs and then robin pipes up once again, ‘will we be seeing you around here regularly, mr. munson?’

he pauses, staring back into the kitchen at the two girls. he’s not sure how to even respond. because actually, he’d been at your house every night this week, right under their noses. and if he were to hazard a guess, he’d be here most of next week too. and the next.

okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

‘uh.. maybe?’ he shrugs, chuckling nervously. robin’s eyes are like slits, staring him down. she’d always been rather intimidating and now was no exception.

‘hm,’ she nods, shooing him off back up the stairs, ‘you’re dismissed,’ still clutching onto the clunky plastic phone.

he disappears rapidly, not wanting to hang around to find out what else she was going to pry about it. eddie reckons that he’s good at secrets, but if he was truly pressed, he’s not so confident in his ability to keep quiet.

you’re awake when he returns to your room, still dozing in bed but awake. he slinks back in, grateful to be away from their prying questions. you’re so sweet like this. not that he didn’t also adore the bossy, demanding side of you but he appreciated the docile part too.

‘you didn’t take my money,’ you point out, frowning at him from the pillow. he shuffles over to your side of the bed, smiling sheepishly.

‘i wanted to pay.. to say thank you,’ he nods, fiddling with his belt loop. he’s aware that you had already told him to stop saying thank you but he truly had to express his gratitude somehow.

‘stop doing that,’ you frown, glaring up at him, hand appearing from the blanket to grab onto his shirt. ‘if i didn’t want to have sex with you, i wouldn’t,’ fisting the material to pull him closer to the bed.

eddie’s not the most sturdy, stumbling and ultimately falling on top of you, just about catching himself before his head smashes into yours. that’d look really good to the girls he was trying to impress if he gave you a black eye, robin would probably get the pitchfork ready to murder him.

you squirm beneath him but your smile says it all, still clasped onto his tee. you’re slightly intimidating like this, well, you were all the time. but especially like this. just mere millimetres away from his face, gazing up at him with those bright eyes. he’s sure they held the glow of a thousand suns in them.

he breathes out shakily, fully aware that his entire body weight was on top of yours, ‘yeah.. shit, sorry,’ far too mesmerised by your eyes to want to move just yet.

‘apology accepted,’ you grin, smashing your lips to his, hand still fisted into his shirt. it’s lazy and messy, tongue creeping into his mouth the second you get the chance.

eddie can feel your thighs move, spreading apart to pull him in closer despite the barrier between you. holy shit. he didn’t think he’d find this so incredibly hot. grinding against you between the blanket.

downstairs, robin and nancy share a certain look when they notice the faint knocking of your headboard against the wall. robin’s nose curling the second she realises just what was happening. feeling the instant regret of ever asking him if he was to be around more often.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic

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fleshdyke · 2 years

Text

shidgehejeghe

#tags contain talk abt rape and very young csa #god im reading a fic rn and it mentioned rape and im just like. in my head all of the sudden #bc i still dont fucking know who it was #i started being really hypersexual at like. 6 or 7 so i’m assuming that’s around when it happened #or at least started #and my friend asked me today ‘why do you never remember anything from camp’ bc we went to the same day camp for years since we were like 6 #and i didnt know how to tell her that i lost most of my memories from before the age of 10 for some reason. probably trauma #so i just said idk haha. but like. even though it’s kinda not a lie bc i dont remember any specifics #i know the general gist of why all my memories are gone right. a mix of rape and child abuse and bullying and whatever else happened #but idk. im still so fucking pissed that i dont know who raped me #like to be completely honest i kind of don’t care that i got raped. i can’t remember it anyways and it doesn’t really affect me that much #but like. im absolutely fucking terrified that whoever did it never got caught. im so fucking scared they’re still doing it to other kids #there was a man that was like. kind of an assistant teacher ig in my preschool and kindergarten that got fired for feeling up a kid #and i’m desperately hoping it was him #bc he got fired. he got consequences. not enough but he did. and he cant do that to anyone else now #like. a part of me couldnt care less. its in the past and it doesnt really affect me anymore so idc. i know its not my fault i cant remember #it so i know i can’t really blame myself #and a part of me is just so fucking scared. bc idk if they’re still out there or not. and im absolutely terrified it will happen again #or that no one will ever want me again bc of it or something. bc as much as im not interested i still want people to think im attractive for #some reason. men in particular even though i do not want to reciprocate it at all. i think its the daddy issues #and the last part of me is just so fucking angry. who let this person anywhere near children. why didn’t a single person see the signs.#why me.#idk. a lot of thoughts today #rambles #vent

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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

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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

not a thing l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part i

summary: You fess up and tell Joel about how Ellie overheard the two of you during the private moment you two had in the woods; Ellie confronts Joel about you while you’re asleep in the truck.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. IMPLIED AGED GAP (no specific age mentioned for reader, Joel is canon age) Joel is kind of an asshole, Ellie is a wiseass, mentions of Tess.

word count: 4.7k

a/n: decided to write a second part to the first Joel fic that i ever wrote! i am so, so stunned that one fic turned into more and that people actually want to read my stuff for Joel/TLOU. thank you all sm for everything and for interacting with me and my content. it means a ton!

“Think this might be a good time to stop?” Joel asked you, quietly.

You hummed, glancing back over at Ellie through the rearview mirror.

Even through the darkness inside the small cab of the pickup truck, it was almost too painfully obvious as to how fucking exhausted the girl was and how much this journey had already taken out of her after only just a few days on the road. Although she was on the smaller side and had an ample amount of space to stretch out her limbs, lay down, and get a decent night’s sleep in the backseat of the truck while you and Joel both took turns driving through the night, Ellie had expressed to you on more than one occasion that she’d rather stop to make temporary camp somewhere for a few hours and continue the drive in the morning once everyone had the chance to take a break. You honestly couldn’t blame her, not even if you tried—it was taking its toll on you too, a lot more than you let on to both Joel and especially to Ellie.

Being the adult, you kept your complaints to yourself, but the truth of the matter was that at the end of each day, you were also getting sick and tired, so damn sick and tired, of the ungodly amount of time that you were spending cooped up in the pickup, just sitting on your ass.

Sure, it may have been a little bit of extra work and it was keeping the three of you from reaching Wyoming as fast as Joel would have liked given the nature of the smartass, teenaged cargo you two had on your hands—but you also preferred to stop and make camp for the night.

After realizing that Joel was still waiting for a response, you nodded.

“Yeah, we should probably call it for the night,” You told him, glancing down at the map of the country in your hands. The three of you made it to the state of Indiana; Missouri was your next planned stop to find gas to siphon and refuel, and even though it was just a little less than six hours away, you figured an early morning wakeup call could have you all there by tomorrow afternoon. “Only problem about a state like Indiana is that it’s flat as fuck. There’s nothing but wide, open grassy fields around here.” You peered out of the window, then turned back to Joel, frowning. “Think we’ll find a safe enough spot?”

“We’re just gonna have to make do with what we got,” Joel stated as he carefully veered the vehicle off of the highway and to the left, onto the aforementioned grassy field. “You think about a mile out from the highway is decent enough? Mile and a half, maybe?”

“Let’s make it two,” You suggested. You neatly folded up the map and stuck it into the glove compartment in front of you. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone or anything out here in the middle of nowhere, but might be best not to risk being too close to the highway, just in case.”

He looked over at you, nodding his head in agreement. “Two it is.”

“Aww, teamwork,” Ellie teased from the backseat. “How fucking cute.”

“It’d be real cute if you’d shut up,” Joel quipped. Once he pulled the truck about a couple of miles out onto the field, he came to a stop and then cut the engine. “We’re gonna take a breather for a few hours,” he said to Ellie over his shoulder. “But only for a few hours, and not a minute more. Come sunrise, we need to get movin’ again, understood?”

She saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain. Whatever you say.”

The second that you hopped out of the pickup, you started shivering. The chilly evening breeze nipped at any patch of exposed skin it could find. The days had been pretty decent, but at night, the temperatures would drop drastically—it couldn’t have been warmer than forty or so degrees. Instinctively, you reached into the top of your pack, pulling a second jacket you carried for yourself out of it. You handed it over to Ellie and instructed her, “Put this on. Cordyceps infection might not have taken you out, but hypothermia will.”

She took it from you, shooting you a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Joel eyed the interaction, his lips pursed together in displeasure.

He didn’t want you and Ellie getting attached to one another, but he feared it was too late. The girl had taken an instant liking to you and you seemed to have taken a liking to her too. “Here.” He tossed Ellie her blue sleeping bag. “Go lay down on the other side of the truck.”

“I’m already so fucking itchy just thinking we have to sleep here.” Ellie wrinkled her nose down at the grass under her shoes. Lifting her head, she took a glance around before turning her attention to you. It was written all over her face, evident in the way she started to shuffle nervously from foot to foot; she was afraid. “I feel so exposed. Are we really going to be safe? There’s fucking nothing out here, not even a single tree. What if someone finds us while we’re all sleeping?”

Before you could reassure her, Joel stepped in.

“No one is goin’ to find us out here,” he grouched. “We’ll be safe. Now quit your complainin’ and go get settled for the night. And don’t even think of askin’ me for a fire in the middle of a goddamn field. Got it?”

Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, it’s fine. You know, I’m actually kinda starting to get used to freezing my fucking ass off anyway.”

You lifted a hand to your mouth, trying to hide your snort of laughter.

She was too fucking quick for her own good.

Joel glared at you. “What? You think she’s funny?”

“Actually, I think she’s fucking hilarious,” You shrugged, causing him to let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s true! She’s made me laugh more in the last week than I have in the last two fucking decades.”

Ellie beamed at you. “At least someone still has a sense of humor.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he snapped, irritably. “Both of you.”

She leaned over towards you, muttering the question right under her breath, “Jesus, has he always been this fucking crabby?” She nudged your shoulder with hers. “You must have the patience of a fucking saint to be able to deal with this on the daily. I would have killed him by now and then offed myself too with that fucking attitude.”

He stepped towards her. “What’d you just say—”

“Ellie.” Although you tried your hardest to reprimand her, instead, you found yourself fighting back another laugh. “Come on, let’s go before he strangles us both.” Taking her arm, you started leading her around to the other side of the truck. Dropping her arm, you reached for your own sleeping bag from the bed of it and started rolling it out. Though you were still fighting back a fit of giggles, you found it in you to offer her some words of advice. “Ellie, I know Joel is not the easiest person to deal with, but you really have to stop giving him so much shit, kid. The man has enough gray hair as it is. Take it easy on him, will you?”

“But I need to keep myself entertained somehow,” she replied with a small, innocent shrug of her shoulders. She unrolled her own sleeping bag, laying it out right beside where you had laid out yours; you saw a pensive look cross her face and after a second, she moved it closer to yours, leaving about a one inch gap of space between the two. For as scared shitless as you had been to take someone like her under yours and Joel’s care, the mere fact that Ellie seemed to feel safer being so close to you must have meant you were doing something right.

“Jacket,” You reminded her.

“I know, I know.” Ellie tugged on the spare jacket that you’d given her just minutes ago, zipping it up to her chin. She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. Before rolling over onto her side, she stopped and a tiny, tired smirk tugged at her lips as she looked up at you. “Wait. You and Joel aren’t going to bone each other tonight, are you? Because I might actually have to suffocate myself in this thing if you do.”

You sighed heavily. “And here I thought you were actually going to do me the favor of never bringing it up ever again.”

“What can I say? Giving you shit is almost as fun as giving it to Joel.”

You nudged her lightly with the toe of you worn, brown leather boot, chuckling as you told her, “Go to sleep, you little jerk.”

“Remember. Protection.” Ellie yawned again, rolling over. “G’night.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

The minute that you heard her soft snores coming from inside of the bag and you were certain she was asleep, you made your way back to the other side of the truck where you found Joel busy loading up and checking his rifle. Thankfully, hadn’t seemed to have heard what Ellie had just said to you. “I’ll take watch tonight,” You offered, holding out your hands and beckoning for the weapon. You instantly noticed the all too familiar look of protest on his face. “Joel, you were the last one to drive today and you’re fucking exhausted. Just let me take watch.”

“The whole damn point of me drivin’ all the way out here was so we can all get some rest without worryin’ about anyone findin’ us,” Joel reminded you. “And besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on standin’ watch. I was just makin’ sure this was ready to go, in case of an emergency.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Joel, please. I know you like I know the back of my own goddamn hand and I already know that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and I’m going to find you standing watch, regardless of how safe you say we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” You continued holding your hands out for the rifle. “Look, my arms are getting tired here. Can you just give me the fucking gun please?”

“You need sleep—”

“We can swap places in a couple hours,” You compromised. “Deal?”

Knowing that you could be just as stubborn as he was, Joel grumbled something incoherently under his breath before finally shoving it into your waiting hands.

“Thank you. Now, was that really so hard?”

Joel scoffed, shoving past you. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his own sleeping bag. “You really need to stop talkin’ to the kid so much. She’s startin’ to rub off on you and I don’t like it.”

“Sweet dreams, Joel,” You replied, watching as he stalked around to the other side of the Chevy where Ellie was fast asleep.

An hour later, you found yourself leaning against the cab of the truck, the sound of chirping crickets your only companion. You held the rifle gently, but still firmly in your grasp, your index finger gingerly resting on the trigger. You tilted your head backwards, gazing up at the stars in the velvet night sky—you tried not to let your mind wander off very far, but you couldn’t help thinking of what Ellie had said to you earlier that morning back in the woods.

He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you.

She was wrong. She had to be wrong. She was fourteen, she was just a kid, after all. Besides, what the fuck could she possibly know about you and Joel, especially after only having been with the two of you for about a week?

Ellie was sorely mistaken.

Joel only kept you around for his benefit.

And the meaningless sex wasn’t the benefit you were referring to.

Joel had always been the brawn, but both you and Tess had been the brains of the operation. That’s how it had always been, at least for the better part of the last few years. You might have been on the younger side in comparison to your smuggling partners, but for some reason, Tess had seen something in you—what it had been, you never had the opportunity to find out, but it made her take a chance on you.

Against Joel’s wishes, she decided that she would take you under her wing; at eighteen years old, you’d been closer to being a child than an adult, but that only meant your mind was still pliable, and she could work with it. By the time you reached your twenties, it was apparent that Tess had all but molded you into a miniature clone of herself—she’d shown you how to think outside the box, taught you how to be persuasive, how to keep trades or deals from going south, and most importantly, what to do if they somehow did go south.

Now that she was gone, you were all that Joel had left. You were what he was stuck with. After Tess died, there was a part of you that had to wonder if Joel felt the wrong person had been infected and killed. It’s not that you thought that Joel would rather it was you who were dead but the reality was that if he’d been given the choice between having you or Tess at his side for this, you were certain it wouldn’t be you.

But he hadn’t gotten a choice.

It was you he ended up with, and you were his only shot at getting to Tommy and getting Ellie to where she needed to be. He needed help, and now that Tess was no longer here, you were the next best thing.

That was it.

A rustling sound nearby pulled you out of your train of thought. You immediately lifted your head and pushed yourself away from the cab, readying your weapon. You took quiet, careful steps and then sharply turned the corner around the bed of the truck, aiming the rifle at the figure in front of you with your finger still on the trigger.

“Fuckin’ relax!” Joel hissed at you, holding his hands up. “It’s me!”

“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled a sharp breath, lowering the gun. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You scared the fucking shit out of me, Joel! I just about shot your head off of your shoulders!”

“Your aim ain’t all that good, darlin’,” Joel stated as he walked up to you, a slight hint of amusement in his Southern drawl. “You keepin’ watch or zonin’ out over here?”

You ignored his teasing remarks. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as Joel fell into step in front of you, an all too familiar lustful glimmer in his eyes.

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he stated with a shrug of his is shoulder. “Had somethin’ on my mind. But from the looks if it, I ain’t the only one lost in thought.” He peered down at you. “What were you thinkin’ about, anyhow?”

“Nothing,” You fibbed. “Just, uh, just how fucking cold it is.”

Joel reached for the rifle, taking it out of your hands. He leaned over and placed it in the bed of the truck behind you. “And you tell me that I’m a shitty liar?” he asked with a small scoff. “Let’s pretend that for a minute that I actually believe that’s what you were really thinkin’ about.” With every word that he spoke, his voice became lower, huskier. “If the cold is what’s on your mind, I know a couple different ways I can help get your mind off of it.”

“Joel—”

“C’mere.” He hooked his index fingers through two of the front belt loops of your blue jeans, yanking you forward until you came crashing against his chest. He dipped his head, his lips eagerly meeting an exposed patch of skin on your neck. As he kissed and nipped at the delicate flesh, he started to move his hands from the belt loops of your jeans over to the buttons instead.

“Joel, wait,” You mumbled weakly, cursing how your body just always seemed to melt right in his fucking hands. “Joel, stop.” You’d said it so softly into his failing right ear that he hadn’t heard you.

Joel’s mouth left your neck, finding your own mouth instead in a way that made every single nerve in your body light on fire. He started to walk you backwards until your back hit the bed of the pickup, a soft thud noise filling the air around you. He pinned you tightly between it and himself as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily. The physically intimate moments that you two shared over the years had always been relatively short due to never having the time nor the place, but maybe that’s why he kissed you the way that he did—with such urgency, with such desperation, as if his fucking life depended on it. Because it never lasted as long as he would have liked and he never knew when he would be able to get his hands on you again.

Breaking away from you slightly, Joel placed his hand on your hip, his index finger grazing the soft skin right above the waist of your jeans as he murmured breathlessly against your lips, “I want you. I gotta have you. Right fuckin’ now.”

It took just about every last ounce of strength that you had inside you to place both of your hands on his chest and gently push him back. “I don’t think we should do this, Joel. Not with Ellie being so close by.”

“She’s asleep.” He frowned, taking your hands off of his chest as he took several steps back from you looking dejected. “Unless you just don’t want—”

You were quick to stop him. “Of course I want you.” You swallowed, your throat having gone dry. “It’s just that—see, the thing is that—”

“Fuckin’ spit it out.”

So you do.

“Ellie knows, Joel.”

“What?” Even in the darkness, you could see the color draining from his face. “How?”

“Look, I really didn’t want to tell you about this. But last night in the woods when we were—” You trailed off, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost anxiously.

“She saw us?”

“She heard us,” You corrected him. “She confronted me about it this morning before we left. I pretty much made her promise to keep her mouth shut because I didn’t want her saying anything to you about it. I didn’t want her giving you grief like she did to me.”

Joel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That little fucking shit—”

“It’s not her fault, Joel. And you know that. We shouldn’t have done it with her being so close by.”

You watched as he dropped his hand from his head, his jaw clenched.

“Joel, come on. Please don’t be mad about this.”

Joel fixed his eyes on the ground and tightly shook his head. “Go get some sleep. I’ll take over watch.”

“But Joel—”

“Just drop it,” he said, rigidly, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “Go.”

Knowing better than to push it, you simply nodded. “Okay.”

The moment you crawled into your sleeping bag next to Ellie, you’d tried your absolute hardest to get some shut eye, but what happened with Joel had you much too worried, and rightly so. Still, you prayed for sleep to come, but it never did and the rest of the night dragged on for what felt like a fucking eternity.

Hours later, when sunrise finally came around, you got up to find Joel had already been packing up the pickup truck, getting it ready for the long drive ahead. The second he saw you approaching him, he simply told you to wake Ellie because the three of you needed to get a move on sooner rather than later. After that, he’d hardly said another word to you.

He couldn’t even fucking look at you.

Halfway to Missouri, during a quick pitstop, Ellie had noticed the odd tension in the air between you and Joel. She’d also noticed how tired you looked. She offered to trade places and sit in as Joel’s copilot for the rest of the day, at least until you reached Kansas City.

“I think he’d actually prefer you as his copilot,” You’d muttered to her in reply, hopping into the backseat. Between the motion of the truck, the soft country music playing from another tape Ellie found, and the open windows bringing in fresh, crisp air, you’d curled up into a little ball in the backseat and passed out within minutes.

Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you, making sure you were actually asleep before turning to Joel. “She told you, didn’t she?”

“Zip it,” Joel ordered. “Ain’t none of your business.”

Ellie hummed. “Well, seeing as I had the absolute delightful pleasure of having to hear the two of you go at it like a couple of cats the other night, I think it actually is kind of my business now.” She paused. She could physically feel the way he was wincing beside her, though what was causing him to be so uncomfortable was left to be determined. Ellie would imagine that it was getting caught in the act itself, but for some reason, she sensed there was a lot more to this mess than met the eye and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. “She told me that you guys aren’t a thing—”

“We’re not a thing. We’re nothin’ at all, alright?”

Ellie blew a raspberry. “Yeah, alright. I see you’re both sticking to that story. That you’re not a thing.” She raised her fingers in quotations.

“It ain’t a story, it’s the truth. We’re nothin’ more than just a couple of smuggling partners tryin’ to get you to where the you need to be.” He glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. “And if you want to make it there unscathed, I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on that map in your hands instead stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I think I at least deserve an explanation after you two put me and my innocent little virgin ears through the wringer.”

“Ellie,” he warned.

It was almost kind of scary how she was already used him saying her name in that tone already. “You’ve been treating her shitty as fuck today, you know.”

Joel frowned. Even though he knew he didn’t need to defend himself to a fucking teenager, he found himself doing it anyway. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I haven’t said a single fuckin’ word to her today.”

“Exactly.” Ellie pointed her index finger at him. “It’s bothering her.”

“She’s a big girl, Ellie. If somethin’ is botherin’ her, then she can come and talk to me about it. She doesn’t need some kid helpin’ her out.”

“That’s the thing. She can’t talk to you about it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable guy, dude.”

Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway? You have other things to worry about. Like findin’ the fuckin’ Fireflies and helpin’ them create a vaccine that’s supposed to save the goddamn world.”

“Because,” Ellie said, refusing to allow him to change the subject, not when she felt like she was finally getting somewhere. “I like her. She’s a good person.”

Joel glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at you as you slept soundly. He couldn’t deny that. Even in this shit world, even after the things you’d seen and all the people you’ve lost, you really were still a good person. You still hadn’t lost touch with your sense of humanity—that was one thing Tess never managed to change about you, the one thing that kept you from being identical to her, identical to Joel. You somehow hadn’t let this world turn you into stone, and maybe that is why you meshed well with them from the start. You brought this odd kind of balance that they hadn’t even known they needed.

That Joel didn’t know he needed.

“She likes you.” Ellie’s voice caused him to snap back to reality. “Lord fucking knows why.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, did I offend?” Ellie quirked an eyebrow, feeling a teeny smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Listen. All I’m saying is that she’s really young. And she’s really pretty. She’s nice, and smart as fuck, too. I bet she could probably have any guy that she fucking wants.” Her smirk only grew noticing how her words had gotten a rise out of Joel. Ellie could tell by the way his fingers had the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles ghost white. “And yet for some reason, she chooses to stick with you, you old fucker.”

“Listen here you little shit—”

She quickly held her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s a good one, Joel.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I know she is.”

Bingo! Ellie thought to herself. Now we’re making progress.

“So, then why not treat her the way she deserves? Why just—what’s that saying? Hit it and quit it?”

Joel tossed a glare at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m not wrong though. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Ellie prompted.

“No!”

“But just a minute ago you said you two were nothing. So if you two are boning, but you’re nothing, that’s like a hit it and quit it, isn’t it? Or is it a fuck it and chuck it? Hump it and dump it?” She scratched her head, wracking her brain as she tried to figure it out. Beside her, Joel was about ready to implode. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right because you guys do it all the time. You’re not actually quitting it. So, it’s hooking up, right?”

“I swear to Christ I’m gonna make you fuckin’ walk to Wyoming if you don’t shut—how the fuck do you know all that? That what they teach you kids in FEDRA school?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Ellie grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Level with me, old man. Do you like her or not?”

Joel’s teeth were gritted together, his sights fixed on the road ahead.

“Or do you love her?” She practically sang.

“Ellie.” He said her name warningly once again, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and hear this conversation; thankfully you were still out cold.

Ellie waved a hand at him. “Oh relax, the woman’s sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Now, answer the fucking question.”

Joel didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.

He willed himself to open his mouth and say something—anything.

But he just couldn’t. He’d been stumped by a fucking fourteen year old who was too damn smart for her own good.

“Interesting,” Ellie mused after a minute of silence, curiously rubbing her chin. “How you can’t even deny it. Very, very, interesting.”

Before Joel could even think, the sound of you moving around in the backseat caused him to jump, the internal panic flooding him in one single wave. As soon as he was certain you were still fast asleep, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Ellie. “Now, you listen here—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She held up her finger to her lips. “Let’s not wake Sleeping Beauty back there.” She dropped her hand down into her lap and glanced out the window, grinning to herself. “Besides, I have the answer I was looking for anyway.”

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