ꔛ faceless blogs or blogs that don’t have any information such as age, name, or some sort of customization will be blocked, this is so my blog doesn’t get sh4dowbanned, it’s nothing personal !
ꔛ this is a sfw, however, i reblog nsfw content, so please just stick to reading my work and don’t reblog the nsfw content i’ve reblogged if you’re a minor (-18) !
about me ! ⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆
ꔛ i’m 21 years old !
ꔛ my pronouns are she/her !
ꔛ seventeen (i can not pick a bias, i like them all) biased !
ꔛ english is my second language !
nice links ! ⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆
ꔛ masterlist !
ꔛ request rules ! currently working on this, in the meantime, feel free to request anything, except for smut, or really angsty topics.
latest works ! ⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆
- again and again -> kim mingyu
ෆ⸒⸒ in which wonwoo just can't seem to get a break from interrupting you and mingyu.
- uniquely smau ! -> kim mingyu
ෆ⸒⸒ in which Nabi debuts in a co-ed group under pledis and navigates the k-pop industry with her best friends
in which you and wonwoo don’t really keep your relationship a secret, and fans get glimpses into your lives together
masterlist
fans find out that you both live together through one of wonwoo’s lives
he’s sitting on the couch, slightly slouched as he leans closer to read comments
in the background, there is the sound of a woman’s laughter, just loud enough to be heard with wonwoo’s talking
people immediately start to question it, to the point where wonwoo has to scroll to find other comments to talk about that don’t revolve around you
people ask where mingyu is, and wonwoo responds, “he’s at his apartment.”
fans were a little heartbroken to hear that they no longer lived together
but then the realization hit that he might be living with you now
during one of your own lives, you’re speaking about how you have a sore throat from recording yesterday, so apologies for the raspy voice
(fans said you sounded hot)
you mentioned that you were excited for the song you were recording, and that you hoped fans would love it as much
as you’re discussing the ways you were recording, a hand snuck into frame to hand you a mug
you had visibly brightened and gushed an excited “what’s this?” as you took a sip
the live chat was a blur with how quickly it blew up when fans heard a deep voice say “tea. careful, it’s hot.”
it was slightly too late as you had already taken a sip, and it was a hilarious sight when you placed the cup down with a hiss of “hot!”
you slightly rubbed at you bottom lip with a small frown
“are you alright?” was heard from behind the camera
fans captured the moment the hand first came into frame, and of course they saw the very same familiar ring worn by wonwoo and all svt members
the same hand cupped your chin as it tilted your head up to assess the damage
you laughed the pain off, playfully swatting the hand away, “i’m fiiiiine, you warned me and i didn’t listen”
you returned to your live as if nothing happened despite the comments going crazy fast, to the point where you couldn’t really read them, so you changed topic and began chatting about your new nail set
the screenshot of you with someone cupping your chin and tilting your head up went viral
people even outside of the kpop world were commenting on the image and it quickly became a hot topic
people were using that shot for art reference, for goodness sake
despite your relationship not exactly being kept a secret, you can’t really manage to talk about it but there are more signs
one day you release a vlog of you going shopping by yourself at the mall
just a simple fun day
you stop at one of the electronic stores saying you needed a new phone charger, and it should have been a quick stop
yet you made your way over to the gaming keyboards and were showing off all the different clicking sounds that they made
your blog quickly turned into an asmr video with the way you focused on a baby pink sparkly keyboard with the most cozy clicking sounds
“isn’t this fun?!” you excitedly whispered to the camera as your nails made clacking sounds with the keyboard
the next portion of the vlog was you walking out of the store carrying a shopping bag, looking way too happy with yourself
a few weeks later, during one of wonwoo’s GAM3 BO1 lives, fans noticed the same pink sparkly keyboard featured in your video
when asked about it, wonwoo simply stated, “i like the clicking sounds it makes”
trust, it became a staple for all future GAM3 BO1 lives
a/n: i luv writing shenanigans for these two! pls make sure to reblog and share <3
Synopsis: Mingyu tries to tell you about his day—really, he does—but it's so hard not to turn into a pathetic puppy when you're stroking him so good :(
Pairing: idol!Mingyu x afab!reader
Genre: smut, established relationship, oneshot
Rating: mature
Word count: 1k
Warnings: petnames (puppy), handjob, sub!Mingyu, soft dom!reader, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: Inspired by this post, I read it and immediately thought of Mingyu.
@gyubakeries here's your sub!Mingyu :)
Click here to join my taglist!
Read on ao3
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
A bright smile is plastered on Mingyu's face as he steps inside, finally home after a long day of photoshoots and interviews. A soft giggle escapes him when he spots you waiting in the living room. He immediately drops his bag and runs up to you like an eager puppy.
You laugh as he crashes into you, his weight pressing against yours. Wrapping your arms around him, you press a kiss to the crown of his head while he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
"Missed you," he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.
"Missed you too," you giggle, fingers weaving gently through his hair.
You feel the tension seep out of him as he melts into your embrace, the exhaustion of the day slowly fading.
"How was your day, Gyu?" you murmur, still stroking his hair.
He lifts his head, eyes brightening. "The morning shoot was fun!" he grins.
"Yeah?"
"The concept was totally different from usual. It was so cool to try something new!"
You listen intently as he rambles about the experimental theme, the bold styling choices, and the energy of the set. His excitement is contagious, his eyes sparkling as he recounts every detail. Unable to resist, you cup his cheek, thumb brushing lightly over his skin, a fond smile tugging at your lips.
"Baby?" His voice is soft, cheeks tinged pink under your touch.
"Don't mind me," you murmur. "Just admiring how pretty you are. Go on."
He lets out a shy laugh before continuing, but your hand drifts lower, thumb tracing his bottom lip. His words stutter, breath hitching as you smirk, letting your touch trail down his body, lingering just long enough to squeeze his muscles teasingly. Mingyu's voice wavers, his breaths turning uneven between sentences.
A soft whine escapes his lips as your fingers slip beneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching the skin just below his navel.
"Shhh…keep telling me about your day, puppy," you murmur, grinning when he lets out another helpless whimper at the nickname.
He stumbles over his words for a second before shakily continuing, his breath hitching as your hand rests just above his waistband—motionless, but enough to make him squirm under your touch.
"Did you feel handsome in those outfits, puppy?" you hum, fingers tracing idle circles.
Mingyu nods shyly, the blush on his cheeks deepening.
"Words, puppy," you chide gently.
"Y-Yes," he admits, voice barely above a whisper.
"I bet everyone was staring, weren't they? Couldn't take their eyes off how pretty you looked," you tease, smirking as he buries his face in the crook of your neck with a muffled groan.
You laugh, fingers carding through his hair before cooing, "My handsome boy,"—and the whine he lets out is downright delicious.
Your fingers catch his chin, tilting his face up until your lips hover just a breath apart. He already looks ruined—eyes blown dark, lips parted, cheeks flushed pink with anticipation.
"Tell me about the interviews," you command, voice low and hushed.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he starts speaking, words coming in uneven bursts as your hand begins its slow descent. You take your time, dragging your touch downward at a deliberate, torturous pace that has Mingyu squirming beneath you. When your fingers finally reach his waistband, you unhurriedly pull down the zipper of his pants. His breath hitches, cutting off mid-sentence with a whimper.
"Did I tell you to stop?" you ask, arching a brow.
"N-No, sorry," he whispers, voice trembling, before he forces himself to continue.
With his help, you tug his pants down, leaving him in nothing but his boxers—already damp at the front, the outline of his hard cock unmistakable. You palm him through the fabric, and Mingyu chokes back a moan, hips twitching helplessly into your touch.
"Go on," you urge, thumb rubbing slow circles over his straining length.
He sucks in a shaky breath, struggling to keep his composure, but it's impossible when you're touching him like this, when he's already leaking and desperate. You stroke him once, twice over the damp fabric, and Mingyu bites down hard on his bottom lip, stifling a whine.
Just as he parts his lips to speak again, your hand slips beneath his waistband, freeing his cock—and the sound he makes is nothing short of shattered.
"I said go on," you command, pressing your thumb into his slit to gather the precum beading there. Mingyu hisses through clenched teeth, hips twitching.
He whimpers out a broken sentence, trying his best to be good. But your hand starts moving—slow, deliberate strokes—and his resolve crumbles. You grab his face, forcing his lips into a pout.
"If you stop, I'll stop," you growl, freezing your hand mid-stroke.
"I'm sorry! I won't—please—" he babbles, rushing to continue.
You reward him with another torturous glide up his length. His breathing turns ragged, body trembles as he fights to stay composed. You drink in the sight—his furrowed brows, tear-bright eyes, the way his voice cracks around every word.
"T-The interviewer flirted with me," he admits, voice thready.
"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow, stopping your movements.
"B-But I shut it down! I was good—hnng—promise!" he sobs, desperate.
"Aww, my perfect puppy," you coo, thumbing away a tear. "Should I reward you?" He nods frantically, whimpering when you crush your lips to his. He kisses back like a man starving, moaning as your hand resumes its pace.
"I'm close—please, please, let me cum—" His begging dissolves into high-pitched whines, hips jerking.
"Hm, I don't know." You slow to a maddening tease.
"Please!" He’s fully crying now, tears streaking his flushed cheeks. "I've been so good!”
"Fine," you smirk. "Cum."
A few more strokes and he's spilling over your fist with a choked cry, painting his stomach in stripes of white. He collapses against you, boneless and panting. You lick a stripe up your palm, savouring his taste as he whines.
"Worked so hard today," you murmur, kissing his forehead. "My good puppy."
"…Thank you," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck.
"Let's clean up before dinner, hm?"
Mingyu perks up, suddenly energetic as he scoops you into his arms. That knowing smile says it all—this is far from over.
OT13 reaction to the “think fast, i’m a random girl” trend
Request: OT13’s reaction to the [Think fast I'm a random girl] TikTok trend
A/N: lmao I had to go and search to see what this trend was about 😂 and all the tiktoks had me rolling on the ground 😭
Launches you across the room — Seungkwan, Hoshi
The scream that leaves his mouth is NOT human. Before you can say “Think fast,” you’re already airborne. He doesn’t look or ask — just yeets you on instinct. The moment your arms go around him, he’s spinning out of it. Hes yelling “I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!!!” so loud it echoes.
Catches you mid-act like “nope nope nope” — Seungcheol, Joshua, Wonwoo
Before you even finish saying “Think fast,” he’s got you at arm’s length like: “Who is this and why are you near me?” Seungcheol raises an eyebrow like you just disrespected national security. Wonwoo full-on sidesteps like you were someone handing out fliers on the street. Joshua hits you with a polite, “Excuse me?” and does a double take to not offend the actual you and then laughs like, “You almost made me respectfully decline you.”
Throws an object at you — Mingyu, Dokyeom, Vernon
You run at him and his hands instantly grab whatever is closest. Pillow? Yeeted. Bag? Gone. Remote control? It’s flying. He’s not aiming to hurt you but just to repel danger. Mingyu might scream and drop to the floor after. Dokyeom’s apologizing while still holding a shoe at you like a weapon [😭]. Vernon doesn’t even move, he just THROWS something and backs away like “NOPE NOPE I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND NOPE.”
Takes the roleplay WAY too seriously — Jun, Minghao
The moment you say “I’m a random girl,” he spins it back. “And I’m a committed man,” he says, dipping under your hug attempt with dancer reflexes. If you lean in, he leans back further dodging you. He might dramatically bow or say “My heart belongs to another.” You’re dying laughing and he’s still in character.
Absolutely freezes and lets you hug him out of fear — Woozi, Dino
You come in fast and he just freezes rigid and terrified. He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, arms glued to his sides. You try to kiss his cheek and he flinches and curses under his breath. He's too polite to shove you away because HE KNOWS it's still you [he doesn't know how to pretend in this scenario], but he looks like he wants to ascend because you want him to think you're someone else. “Don’t do that. Ever again. Please.”
👁️👄👁️ Didn’t even blink — Jeonghan
He sees you coming with your fake flirty face and just blinks. Doesn’t give you the fun of a reaction with his arms crossed, "…You done?" Not a single step back. Just full-on eyeing you while sipping water. You try to fake a kiss and he goes: “First of all, I know it’s you. I can't think of you like someone else. Second, if a real random girl came at me like that, do you think I wouldn’t body block her with a folding chair?” He does not entertain! He laughs at your attempt, and then casually kisses your forehead... Jeonghan’s loyalty is so high it loops around into passive aggression 😭💘 You thought you were the one testing him? Plot twist: you’re the social experiment.
Summary: Yoon Jeonghan gets teased by the rest of seventeen for being whipped for his girl.
Warnings: none! Just Fluff.
Word Count: 773
I couldn't wait to post so here is another Yoon Jeonghan fic. Hope you guys enjoy this! and if you have any requests for any other members/people/characters feel free to request/ask me anything and I'll see what I can do! Happy reading! :)
Yoon Jeonghan of Seventeen wasn’t usually the type to wear his heart on his sleeve—at least, not when it came to romance. He was clever, always a step ahead, and had a teasing streak as wide as the Han River. But since he started dating you six months ago, Jeonghan’s members had noticed a... shift.
And they were having the time of their lives teasing him about it.
It started during a lazy afternoon at the dorm. The group had finished their schedules for the day, and the members were sprawled across the living room, half-watching a drama on TV. Jeonghan, who usually dominated conversations with his witty comebacks, was unusually quiet. His phone was in his hand, and he was smiling at the screen in a way that made the others take notice.
"Oh, would you look at that," Seungkwan said, his voice laced with mock surprise. "Our Hannie hyung is smiling. At his phone. Again."
Minghao leaned over from the couch, trying to catch a glimpse of Jeonghan's screen. "Is it her?"
Jeonghan’s smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced with an annoyed pout. He locked his phone and turned it face down on the table. "Mind your own business, Minghao."
But the damage was done. The members perked up, sensing an opportunity to torment their usually unflappable hyung.
"Oh, it’s definitely her," Joshua chimed in, grinning. "Jeonghan only smiles like that when it’s about her."
"What did she say?" Woozi asked, though the slight upward tilt of his lips gave away that he was more amused than genuinely curious.
"Nothing," Jeonghan mumbled, slumping into the couch like he could disappear into the cushions.
"Nothing?" Vernon repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "You were practically giggling."
"I don’t giggle," Jeonghan shot back, but the redness creeping up his neck betrayed him.
"Sure, sure," Seungkwan said, waving him off. "Hyung, we all know you’re whipped. Just admit it."
"I am not whipped," Jeonghan insisted, but his voice lacked its usual conviction.
"You absolutely are," Mingyu said, chuckling. "Remember last week when you asked the manager if you could get off early so you could take her to that café she likes?"
"That’s called being a good boyfriend," Jeonghan retorted, sitting up straighter. "Maybe you should take notes, Mingyu."
"A good boyfriend who’s whipped," Dino added, earning a high-five from Seungkwan.
Jeonghan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I regret introducing you all to her."
That wasn’t true, and they all knew it. From the moment you and Jeonghan had made your relationship official, the members had been nothing but supportive. They’d even gone so far as to declare you "the perfect match" for their mischievous angel, as you somehow managed to keep up with Jeonghan’s antics while also bringing out his softer side. But their enthusiasm also meant they saw every little way Jeonghan’s walls had come down, and they weren’t going to let him live it down.
"You’re so good for him," Seungkwan had told you during a group dinner a month ago, while Jeonghan had gone to get drinks. "It’s like you’re his kryptonite. He’s so soft for you."
Now, as Jeonghan endured their teasing, he couldn’t help but think of you and the way you’d probably laugh if you saw this. You’d tell him he deserved it, and honestly, he’d have to agree.
"Alright, that’s enough," Jeonghan said, trying to regain some semblance of control. "Yes, I’m dating someone amazing. Yes, I like doing nice things for her. Can we move on now?"
"Not yet," Seungkwan said, leaning forward with a sly grin. "Hyung, did you text her goodnight last night?"
"Of course I did," Jeonghan replied, without thinking.
The room erupted in laughter, and even Jeonghan couldn’t help but chuckle. He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips despite himself.
"You’re all children," he muttered, but his tone was fond.
Later that evening, when the teasing had finally died down and the members had dispersed, Jeonghan found himself back on the couch, phone in hand. He opened your chat and started typing.
Jeonghan: Remind me why I put up with them again?
Your reply came almost instantly.
YN: Because they love you. And they’re right, you are kinda whipped.
Jeonghan groaned, but he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. He typed back quickly.
Jeonghan: You’re lucky I love you.
YN: I know. ;)
Jeonghan set his phone down, leaning back against the couch, he closed his eyes with a content smile. If his members wanted to play, they’d better be ready for Jeonghan to play back
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
contains: 18+ nsfw (mdni!!) majority is afab reader
✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩
✩ choi seungcheol/scoups ✩
❥ “to seungcheol, whom i loved before” (best friend's brother!seungcheol x reader) - @xinganhao
❥ you’re so hard. let me jerk you off - @pochaccoups
✩ yoon jeonghan ✩
❥ idol bf!jeonghan texts - @cheoliedollie
❥ jeonghan nsfw headcannons - @cheolism-archive
✩ hong jisoo/joshua ✩
❥ my days won’t end without you - @seuonji
❥ brat tamer! joshua - @svtswhorehouse
✩ wen junhui/jun ✩
❥ love languages: moon junhui - @cxffecoupx
❥ needy blond jun - @mountainficss
✩ kwon soonyoung/hoshi ✩
❥ kissing injuries - @miumiaoomyzi
❥ blowjob + voyeurism addiction - @hoshifighting
✩ jeon wonwoo ✩
❥ Calm BF!Wonwoo x hyper gf - @vernonverse
❥ brat tamer! wonwoo - @svtswhorehouse
✩ lee jihoon/woozi ✩
❥ mwah - @cheolism-archive / @ddeonghwa-s
❥ overstimulating him on your fertile period - @hoshifighting
✩ xu minghao/the8 ✩
❥ dating minghao includes… - @svtswhorehouse
❥ de-stressing you with oral - @nsfwhao
✩ kim mingyu ✩
❥ when mingyu is much too extroverted for you but it's okay because he's your battery anyway - @wonwoonlight
❥ covering your mouth while he fucks you - @nsfwhao
✩ lee seokmin/dokyeom/dk ✩
❥ lookalike contest!seokmin - @xinganhao
❥ your own sweet sex-god - @woozivrsefactry
✩ boo seungkwan ✩
❥ dating seungkwan feels like.. - @ssentimentals
❥ caught on camera - @rubyreduji
✩ chwe hansol/vernon ✩
❥ first kiss - @cheolieji
❥ buzzed - @studioeisa
✩ lee chan/dino ✩
❥ kiss quota - @svtiddiess
❥ now spit, baby - @rubyreduji
ames note: hi everyone!! it has been a while, but i have returned with another fic rec post :3 i hope y'all enjoy and are excited for the upcoming seventeen comeback + jp fanmeetings!!! eat well and take care of yourselves <3
jihoon feels your lips on his - of course he does, he's kissing you hungrily and allowing you to move your tongue against his as you wish; he also feels your legs around his hips, trapping him deliciously.
but, ultimately, he feels your touch on his face. jihoon melts in the way you cup his cheek, part of his brain reminding him of how pretty your hands look with those manicured dark red nails. he moans on the spot, sighing when your fingers move from his face to the back of his head.
"did you do your nails because of me this week?", he suddenly asks, making you tilt your head.
"i'm on top of you and you're asking me about my nails?"
he laughs, reaching for your hands and holding them between your bodies, looking down at your fingers and shiny nails.
"the color suits your skin tone", jihoon comments and then stares at you. "i like it. it kind of got me going..."
"now you know how i feel about your hands too."
jihoon chuckles, murmuring a 'maybe' before going back to kissing you. you make a mental note to tease him later for how eager he seems when he guides both your hands back to his neck and hair, encouraging you to, please, do your magic.
genre — best friends to lovers, fluff, smut MDNI!!
pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu
summary — read part I hehe, this is pure smut (with plot)
word count — 8,7k (part II)
I highly recommend reading part 1, first, or this probably won’t make much sense.
Warnings and notes under the line.
Notes: mention of san (ateez) and sangyeon (theboyz)
Well… it’s finally here!! it’s been a while, so even if you’ve already read part 1, I recommend giving it another read before diving in – this picks up right where it left off. Enjoy, and please scream & shout at me about how you liked it!! it’s my first time writing smut, so be kind (but also honest hehe) ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆
WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, switch!mingyu (CAUSE I KNOW HE IS), switch!reader, needy mingyu (yes that’s a warning), semi-public situations (they're not getting caught at all), fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), consent emphasized, breast play, dirty talk, edging, mild overstimulation, unprotected sex/creampie (don't do that!!), cockwarming, aftercare implied, excessive use of “fuck” and “shit” (because i can’t stop it)
21:12
"Woah."
Hoshi and Wonwoo storm inside, the door swinging shut behind them. "I almost turned into a damn tree waiting out there. Thought you guys were pretending not to be here."
There’s a pause. His eyes flicker around the room—searching.
"For whatever reason," he adds, dragging out the words before shooting Wonwoo a look, wiggling his brows. Wonwoo chuckles under his breath, balancing bottles in both hands.
Usually, Mingyu would roll his eyes, maybe even smack Hoshi for a dumb comment like that. But right now? His mind is too hazy, too full—still tangled up in you.
The second you hear their voices, you go.
Straight to the bathroom. Fast enough to escape, slow enough not to raise suspicion. The door clicks shut behind you, just shy of a slam.
Your hands grip the sink. Your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed, cheeks burning, lips—fuck.
You look wrecked.
Your hair is a mess from where Mingyu had leaned too close, your lips are swollen from nothing but a brush, and your skin still tingles where his breath had been.
You squeeze your eyes shut. Inhale deep. Try to steady yourself.
Because they’re out there. He is out there. And you need to act normal.
So you force it all down, splash cold water on your face, and when you step out of the bathroom, you do what you do best.
You pretend.
"Why the hell wouldn’t you guys pick up my call? I was going crazy. Do you know how much I paid yesterday for your shit?"
Hoshi sprawls out on the couch, his voice loud and dramatic, while Wonwoo sets the snacks and bottles down on the table.
That’s how Hoshi expresses his worry—through complaints, through exaggerated frustration that’s half real, half just him being Hoshi. Usually, Mingyu would respond. Would roll his eyes, laugh, tease him back.
But right now?
Mingyu isn’t listening.
He can’t listen.
He sinks onto the couch, still lightheaded. Still caught up in the last few minutes.
Hoshi is talking—something about the night, something Mingyu should probably respond to—but his mind is elsewhere. He’s still in the kitchen. Still pressed against you. Still feeling the ghost of your lips brushing his. His whole body is tense, his skin too warm, his jeans way too fucking tight.
He shifts uncomfortably, subtly adjusting himself before grabbing a pillow and placing it over his lap. He tries—really, really tries—to focus on Hoshi. To nod at the right moments. To act normal. But all he can think about is how soft your lips felt, how you looked at him. The way your lips parted just slightly, like you were going to—
"So tell me, what did you guys do today?"
Fuck.
Mingyu freezes.
What—what is he supposed to say? That you guys—? No. No fucking way.
His stomach tightens. His jeans—shit—feel impossibly tighter. A sudden wave of dizziness washes over him. He wasn’t even drunk, but it was too hot in here. Too much. Too you.
"Umm…" he mutters, fingers pressing to his temple, trying to come up with something—anything—normal to say.
"Nothing much," you say, stepping into the living room. Too casual. Too even. "Just ate, watched something. Pretty chill."
Hoshi hums, unconvinced.
And Mingyu—Mingyu forgets how to breathe.
His eyes drag over you—your face, your lips. Your legs, where he was between them just minutes ago.
Shit.
His grip tightens on the pillow.
"Yeah, of course," Hoshi says, voice laced with suspicion. But thankfully, he shrugs it off, already moving on to another topic. The conversation shifts, flows into something else.
But Mingyu doesn’t.
He stays still. Because you don’t look at him. Not once.
Since the second you walked into the room, since the moment you spoke, you haven’t spared him a single glance.
And fuck, that does something to him.
Fingers clenched. Jaw locked. Heart pounding.
Because this isn’t over.
Because no matter how much you pretend—
No matter how steady your voice is, how carefully you avoid his gaze—
He knows.
He knows now.
22:12
"Well, I was supposed to go out with the other guys tonight, but of course, you guys come first," Hoshi announces dramatically, stretching across the couch.
Wonwoo doesn’t even look up from his phone. "Why are you lying? You were the one who insisted on coming here and dragged me along."
Hoshi huffs and lightly smacks Wonwoo’s arm. "Shh, be quiet."
But then, as if the thought just occurred to him, Hoshi perks up. "Actually… now that I think about it, I could've brought them along. They’re pretty cool."
He pauses for effect, then smirks. "Especially Sangyeon."
There’s something in his tone—something teasing—that immediately puts you on edge.
"You know what?" He grins. "I should introduce him to you. He might be your type."
Your head snaps up.
And so does Mingyu’s.
The air shifts in an instant.
“I—uh, I’m actually pretty picky, so don’t bother.”
“Come on, it can’t be that complicated. What is your type, anyway?”
Your mouth opens, then closes.
And before you can stop yourself, before you can think—your gaze flickers to Mingyu.
Shit.
You regret it immediately. The moment is too fast, too obvious. Wonwoo catches it instantly, his sharp eyes reading your expression like an open book.
"Just leave her alone with your nonsense," Wonwoo says, his voice even, unimpressed. "Maybe worry about finding your own girlfriend first."
Hoshi gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. "Hey! I’m trying to help! It’s been years since she’s had a boyfriend!"
Your stomach tightens. You can’t sit here any longer.
Mingyu doesn’t look away. He just watches.
Heat creeps up your neck, and suddenly, you need to get out of here. Now.
You force out a laugh, pushing yourself to your feet. "I think it’s time for more drinks."
"Want some help with that?” Wonwoo asks, still half-distracted by his phone.
"No!" It comes out too fast, too desperate. You cringe at yourself but don’t stop.
You don’t wait for a response—you just go.
The moment you step into the kitchen, you exhale sharply, setting the glasses down and gripping the counter.
Just breathe. In and ou—
“Need help?”
His voice.
Casual. Too casual.
He’s there—leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, shoulders broad, completely unbothered.Taking up too much space.
An annoyed smile tugs at your lips. Why can’t he just leave you alone?
“I thought I was being clear,” you mutter, staring ahead.
A slow, knowing hum. Amused. Mocking . “I’m just being nice. Like always.”
And he’s enjoying this—teasing you like this.
You shake your head, you shift, pulling open the fridge. “Good. Then don’t be like always.”
Mingyu straightens, uncrossing his arms, a soft chuckle.
You grab a couple of bottles, setting them on the counter before reaching for the glasses in the cabinet.
He doesn’t move. Just staying there at the door frame. Watching you.
“Yeah? And how exactly do you want me then?”
Your grip tightens around the glass.
Mingyu. You little shit.
You inhale, forcing yourself to keep your back to him. “I need you to be quiet. Just quiet.”
“Oh, I can do that,” he murmurs, voice lower, rougher.
You don’t dare meet his eyes. You don’t even turn around. Instead, you keep your gaze on the glasses in your hands—like that’s all you came here for.
“I think you know how.”
You let out a breath, stepping toward him like it’s nothing.
“If you’re done, here, make yourself useful.”
His smirk deepens. You’re trying so hard to act unaffected, but he sees it—the way your fingers tremble slightly, the way your breath catches.
Mingyu tilts his head. Slow. Calculating. “I thought you didn’t want my help?”
You shoot him a glare. You scowl. Why does he have to be so goddamn annoying?
And worse—why does he have to look this good while doing it?
But before you can fire back—
Your phone rings.
You glance down at your pocket, hands too full to reach for it. You sigh, shifting everything toward Mingyu.
He looks at you. A beat of silence. And just when you think he’s going to take the bottles—
His hand moves.
Not for the drinks.
For your phone.
No hesitation. No second-guessing.
His fingers brush against your waist as he lifts the hem of your shirt—just slightly.
His fingers curl around your phone. He pulls it out, his gaze flickers down to the screen.
San.
The name rolls off his tongue. He’s heard it before, here and there. Was it someone from work?
His eyes flick back up to yours, searching. “This late?”
You swallow. “Give it back.”
You step forward, but he doesn’t move.
His grip tightens around your phone. He should just hand it over. He should step back.
Instead, the words slip out—low, unfiltered.
“Why is he calling?”
You blink.
Shit. It wasn’t a question he meant to ask. It wasn’t something he even thought about saying. It just fell out of him.
“What?”
The call ends. Silence.
Mingyu doesn’t answer the question. Neither do you.
Before you can figure out what's happening, he smiles. But not just any smile.That slow, knowing, devastating kind.
And then—He puts it back, back into your pocket.
Ding.
A message.
He tilts his head.
Ding. Ding.
“Must be important.”
Another message.
“You close?”
His voice dips lower.
You open your mouth, but before you can answer—
“How close?”
Something shifts.
The teasing is gone.
He sees the realization flicker across your face. You notice it now—the difference.
No smirking. No amusement.
Just—
Jealousy.
Your lips twitch.
This is fun.
Your turn now.
“This close,” you murmur, taking a few steps back.
His brows furrow slightly.
“Or this close?”
You step forward again.
His fingers flex. His jaw tightens.
Now he gets it.
Now you’re right in front of him. So close, almost touching.
“Or maybe… this close?”
So close you feel his breath. The way his chest rises. The way his hand twitches at his side.
Your gaze flickers down to his lips. Then back up.
His breath stutters.
Your voice drops, barely above a whisper.
“What are you gonna do about it?”
Mingyu moves before he can think.
His hand grips your waist. Your back. Pulling you into him.
His body is so warm. So solid.
And then—
“I doubt you two are this close.” He leans in. Just slightly.
His breath ghosts over your lips, his fingers flexing against your waist.
The cold of the drinks and glasses in your hands presses against his chest, against his stomach—a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from him. It makes his breath hitch. You can feel it, the bottles and glasses pressing against your breasts, and you wonder what it would have been like if they weren't there.
“You didn’t even think about checking his messages,” he murmurs. His voice is smooth. Too smooth. And then—lower—right against your ear—
“I have you right where I want you.”
A sharp inhale.
“YAAA!!”
Hoshi’s voice cuts through the moment like a blade.
Neither of you move.
Neither of you break eye contact.
“MY DRINKS!! WHERE ARE MY DRINKS!!”
Mingyu should step back. He should let go.
He watches the way your chest rises. The way your lips part. The way your fingers tremble, just slightly, against his arm. He could end it right here. Close the space. Kiss you senseless.
He wants to. God, he wants to.
But the voices in the living room—too close.
He doesn’t know how it would end. Doesn’t know what you’d do. What he might do. Not when his pulse is this loud, not when you’re looking at him like you already know.
Not now, he thinks.
Because if he moves even an inch closer—
He’ll do something stupid.
Right then where you think he would lean in —again
he takes the bottles and glasses from your hands.
Turns and walks out of the kitchen.
Leaving you standing there, heart racing.
Mingyu—smirking to himself.
He chooses restraint. For now.
00:34
Your night plays out like it always does.
Mario Kart on the Switch, followed by rounds of drinking games, laughter bubbling up with every sip, the room alive with energy. It’s become routine—getting tipsy with the guys, letting the evening slip into a blur of noise and warmth. But tonight, something’s different. Your mind isn’t on the game; it’s on him.
Mingyu.
You’re counting down the minutes until this all ends, until you can finally be alone.
Alone with your thoughts.
“Okay, last round, Hoshi,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yes! Yes!” Hoshi hurls himself into the couch, already grabbing his drink before the race even starts. Predictably, he loses again.
You don’t even flinch, too distracted by the way Mingyu leans back against the couch, his eyes casually glancing at the screen but his attention fully on you. He’s sitting there, relaxed—his messy hair falling perfectly in a way that makes you want to reach out and fix it, even though you know he’d just mess it up again.
His black t-shirt is slightly stretched from his movement, and as he shifts to grab another drink, you catch a glimpse of the chain hanging loosely around his neck. It glints in the dim light, you gaze down to the sharp line of his jaw to his exposed collarbones.
You try to look away, but every movement he makes seems deliberate, as if he's doing it on purpose.
“PLEASE! LAST ROUND, PLEASE!!” Hoshi’s voice rings out, exaggerated and dramatic, dragging you back into the room. Mingyu chuckles, his lips curling into that effortless smirk.
“Alright, let him have another round,” he says, voice deep and calm, a little too calm, his eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second.
It’s enough.
Your heart stutters. You’re hyper-aware of everything. He rolls his sleeves up, just slightly, as he takes another drink. The biceps of his arm flex as he lifts his glass, you can see the veins along his forearm. It’s suddenly so warm in here and you can feel the way it pulls you closer even though you haven’t moved an inch.
He doesn't need to try. He just is.
He knows it, too.
“YAAA!! THIS CAN’T BE!!” Hoshi wails, the chaos pulling you out of the moment. His controller crashes to the floor in exaggerated despair.
You sigh, laughing despite yourself, the sound escaping your lips like a small release. For a moment, it feels like the tension that’s been thickening the air all night finally breaks, but it lingers—just out of reach. Your eyes flicker to Mingyu, and in that instant, you catch him. Staring at you. Not just a glance, but a look that lingers.
He’s watching you, watching the way you sit there—knees on the floor, bare legs beneath you. But it’s not just the way you’re sitting, it’s the way his shirt clings to your skin, your posture, your eyes, your lips... everything about you seems to pull him in. His thoughts begin to drift, and before he can stop them, his mind’s running down a path he knows he shouldn’t be on.
No, he thinks. Not again.
He drags a hand over his face and thunks his head back against the couch, eyes squeezed shut. He exhales slowly, a forced calm. Focus, Mingyu.
He can’t afford another hard-on tonight. Not with everyone around.
But he knows. You both know it.
It’s going to be a long, torturous night after all. And it isn’t ending anytime soon.
02:46
Hours have slipped by, blurred by laughter and the bitter tang of alcohol on your tongue. The room is warm, dimly lit,—half-empty glasses, crumpled snack bags, the low hum of music still playing somewhere in the background.
You’re exhausted, but wired. The kind of tired where everything feels a little too slow, a little too heavy.
A soft snore interrupts your thoughts.
You turn your head. Hoshi, sprawled out across the couch, mouth slightly open, completely dead to the world.
You blink. "Well. There he goes."
Mingyu huffs out a quiet laugh across from you, tilting his head toward the couch. "Took him long enough."
"It’s always him," you mutter, shaking your head.
"It was Wonwoo first."
"Wonwoo doesn’t count. He chooses sleep."
Mingyu grins, eyes crinkling at the edges, his dark, tousled hair—slightly messy from the long night—falls over his forehead, the dim light catches the sharp line of his jaw and suddenly, you’re aware that its just the two of you now. The laughter fades, leaving something quieter in its place.
And then it happens.
That look.
Mingyu leans his head back against the couch, watching you in that way that makes your stomach twist. His gaze is dark, unreadable, and smirking. you feel it—lingering too long on your face, dropping to your lips.
He’s fucking smirking at you.
Like you guys didnt kiss each other just hours ago.
Your breath catches. Heat pools in your stomach, climbs up your spine, wraps around your throat until your face burns. It’s impossible to ignore the way your body reacts to him, impossible not to remember the way he felt pressed against you, the way he almost—
No.
You need to move. You need to do something—anything—to break the tension before it swallows you whole.
So you stand up.
Quickly. Too quickly. You busy yourself with the mess on the table, grabbing empty glasses, snack wrappers—anything to keep your hands occupied, your mind distracted. You can still feel his gaze pressing into you, following your every movement like a weight on your skin. So you just move yourself to the kitchen. Yeah, that damn kitchen.
To escape. To escape him.
But of course, he follows you.
You focus on the counter, setting things down with a little too much force. You reach for an empty glass, then hesitate, frowning. Where does this go again? You open a random cabinet. Wrong one. You try another. Wrong again.
Mingyu leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching you struggle. His broad shoulders stretch the fabric of his shirt, and the sleeves cling to his biceps in a way that makes your fingers itch to touch.
"Need help?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
You find the right cabinet—finally—but as you reach up to place the glass inside, it slips. Not enough to fall, but enough for Mingyu to react.
He leans in slightly, voice lower now. "You seem a little distracted."
You exhale sharply, setting the glass down before you drop it for real. "I’m fine."
He hums, unconvinced.
Silence settles between you. Mingyu doesn’t move, doesn’t look away. Instead, he watches you—closely. His gaze lingers as you slowly place the glass in the cabinet, like he’s studying every movement, every flicker of hesitation. You feel it—his eyes, the weight of his attention pressing into your skin.
"You’re bad at this, you know," he murmurs.
"At what?"
"At pretending."
Your pulse stumbles.
"I’m not pretending," you say, but your voice isn’t as steady as you want it to be.
He laughs teasingly, not really believing you.
"You’re also bad at drinking games," he teases, his voice low, laced with something deeper. He leans against the counter, too close. "Honestly surprised you’re still standing."
You roll your eyes, feigning confidence. "It takes a lot to get me down." you say, your voice steadier than you feel. The warmth of the alcohol hums beneath your skin. "I’m not even that drunk, actually."
"Oh, yeah?"
He steps closer.
No. Please, no.
You almost whine.
Not again. Not when you’re still weak from earlier. Not when you still feel the ghost of his breath on your skin, the way he nearly kissed you, the way he almost had you.
You swallow hard, nodding—but it’s weak, almost shaky. And he notices.
"So, you weren’t really that drunk yesterday? Was all of that just an act?"
His skin glows under the kitchen light, sweat dampening his forehead, his neck. His lips are pinker than before, and when he tilts his head slightly, your knees almost give in.
“I dont know what you mean- I-" Your voice falters, and you curse yourself for how obvious it is. He's always been able to read you, hasn't he?
He smirks. But he knows it all too well. Without touching you, he moves. His presence alone pulls you backward, guiding your body against the counter. You find yourself pressed against the edge, your breath caught in your throat. He doesn't touch you, but it feels as if he’s controlling every inch of your movement.
Finally, his gaze softens, but the intensity remains. He reaches up, his fingers grazing your cheek, the touch light but electric, sending a shiver through you. “Your cheeks are giving you away,” he murmurs, his voice low and knowing. “Mingyu, stop.” you whisper, as you push against his chest, it causes him to step back, just a little. His arm wraps around yours, pulling you right back into him. The movement is fast, and before you can fully react, you’re pressed against him—your chest against his, your breath shallow as you’re forced to tilt your head back to meet his gaze.
He exhales, voice deep, teasing, but his eyes betray him. "Why? you’re not gonna ask me to stay this time? Not gonna ask me to sleep with you?"
"I don’t even remember what I—"
"But I do."
He doesn’t let you go.
He leans in, hand ghosting along your jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he’s trying to memorize it. His warmth seeps into your skin, into your bones, unraveling something inside you.
“You were looking at me like this,” he murmurs, forehead resting lightly against yours. “Exactly like this.”
You can feel every word against your skin. His eyes don’t leave yours.
“Mingyu, I—”
“You held me here.” He traces your hand over his chest, down his abs, his touch slow, deliberate. “You asked me to stay, told me not to leave”, a smirk tugging at his lips as he remembers that moment. “Shit, I thought you were fucking with me.”
Your throat goes dry, a tightness spreading through you as his nose brushes against yours.
“You said please,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. He slowly pushes you against the counter.
“Say it again" he whispers, the word coming out like a plea, thick with want, yearning—almost as if he's asking to kiss you. Your throat goes dry, a tightness spreading through you as his nose brushes against yours.
“Please,” he whispers. It’s barely a sound—more breath than voice—but it carries everything. A plea. A need. Like he’s not just asking for a kiss, but for permission to fall apart in your hands.
Your chest tightens. Your fingers move before your thoughts can catch up, curling around the back of his neck, drawing him in even though you’re already impossibly close.
His breath hitches at the movement, eyes locking with yours. And there, in the quiet space between heartbeats, he knows.
Then he kisses you.
Soft at first. Barely there. It’s slow, careful—his lips brushing yours, like he’s learning the shape of you through every careful pass.
Then again—deeper this time. More sure.
His hands find their way to your cheeks, holding you, steadying you, like he can't pull away even if he wanted to. He hums against your lips, a soft relief, like he's been waiting for this. And he was.
But the moment his mind catches up with the taste of you—he’s lost.
The kiss turns desperate, all softness bleeding into something needier. Like if he stops, even for a second, it might all slip away.
Your hands are everywhere—roaming, exploring. He nudges you gently until your back hits the counter, the edge cool against your spine. Your palms press to the surface behind you, steadying yourself as the bottles shift and clink under your touch.
“Mingyu—”
“No—”,he’s already kissing you again.
Your protest is cut off, swallowed by his mouth, his kiss harder now. Like he’s trying to erase every reason not to.
His hand slides to your waist, fingers pressing in, grounding himself in you. His chest brushes yours, heart pounding.
“We should—” he exhales, his voice cracking, his lips barely leaving yours. “We should stop, right?”
Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath, brushing against the skin of his stomach. He’s warm, feverish beneath your touch.
“Yeah,” you breathe, lips still brushing his, “they—hmh-they could come in…”
Shit. He knows. He really fucking knows. But he’s too far in. He should stop—he knows that. But how’s he supposed to do that? When you're looking at him like that? He tried to be good. He really did. But with you like this? He’s already too far gone.
“Mmh,” he exhales, kissing the corner of your mouth. “We should stop before...”
But even as he says it, his hands slide down, fingertips grazing your thigh. He looks at you, like he’s checking—like he needs to make sure. And the way you're staring back? He gets his answer.
He lifts your leg onto the counter. The bottles clink next you, sharp and loud in the quiet, like a reminder of where you are but —
“Yes—mmh—we should stop before anyone—”
But then he hums, low and rough, as his hand moves to your chest. Fingers glide up, brushing over your breast, and your breath stutters.
“We should… fuck-” His voice trembles. “Go to sleep.”
He’s trying. God, he’s trying.
But his mind is lost in you. Like he’s clinging to every thread of control he has left.
“Yeah,” you whisper back, breathless. Your hand slides under his shirt again, feeling the way he trembles under your touch.
“I should go to sleep…”, you smile to yourself.
“Yes- We should go to sleep,” he says, pulling off his shirt.
You watch his skin glows golden under the dim lamp, and when he runs a hand through his hair—black strands sticking up in every direction—you almost loose it. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, but damn.
He takes your hands, places them on his chest, his abs—letting you feel him. And then he kisses you again.
“Shit,” he breathes. “I can’t… I can’t fucking stop.”
You're still on the counter, legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips, even as his hands slide up, cupping your tits, grazing the edge of your bra, his mouth finding your neck.
“Fuck— Mingyu,” you moan, soft but breathless.
“Don’t do that,” he groans. “-Fuck.”
You tug off your shirt, and he just stares for a second.
Out of breath, hair a mess, half-dressed. This—this is what he dreamed about for far too long.
You reach for his belt, pulling him back in.
“We can’t be loud,” you whisper. “Be quiet, Mingyu.”
He smirks like you’ve just dared him. Like being quiet is a challenge.
He kisses you hard, pressing his dick against you—exactly where you want him. You moan into his mouth, hands in his hair, kissing him like this might be the last time. Because maybe it is.
He trails kisses down your neck, then your chest—his mouth warm over your bra, licking and sucking. You feel everything, but it’s not enough. You need more.
“Mingyu, don’t—don’t tease.”
“We can’t be loud, right?” he smirks to himself. You whine in response.
One hand cups your breast while the other runs across his lips, tasting you . You bite down on your lip, trying to quiet every moan that threatens to slip. His hands are so big on you, his mouth so unbelievably good.
You pull him back to your lips, needing to feel him—needing to let those moans escape where only he can hear them.
“More,” you breathe, your hand drifting lower, palming him through his pants.
The alcohol is blurring your filter, but you don’t care. You want him.
Still, he doesn’t give in. Not fully. Not yet.
He kisses you deeper—your lips, your throat—grinding against you like he’s losing control. Like you’re the one driving him insane. He thinks he’s teasing you, but maybe he’s torturing himself just as much.
You dig your nails into his back, kissing along his shoulder. The intimacy of it gives you goosebumps, sets your skin on fire.
You can’t take it anymore. Your hands go to his belt, fingers working it open as your eyes meet his.
“Shit,” he exhales. Mingyu shakes his head “Not here.”
“Not here?” you whisper, almost whining.
His hands find your waist again, sliding lower, between your legs.
His fingers are a little cold, and the touch makes you gasp.
“Mingyu-”
“Spread your legs for me,” he says lowly, never breaking eye contact.
You do.
He moves slowly at first, teasing your clit, eyes locked on every little reaction your face gives away.
Your mouth parts open slightly, breath hitching.
“Hm? That sensitive?” he asks, speeding up just a little.
A soft moan slips from your lips as you grip his arms, trying to steady yourself.
And then his finger slides inside.
Then another.
While his thumb keeps working your clit, making you lose your mind.
“You like seeing my hands between your legs?” he rasps, still watching you.
You can’t even look away—neither of you can.
He kisses you, and you moan right into his mouth.
“You like the way that feels?” he asks. “So wet for me already…”
You try not to, but his names slips out of your mouth.
“Shit. Didn’t we talk about being quiet?”, voice low, watching you all desperate and squirming under his touch.
And you can feel it building—right there, right under his fingers.
“Fuck, yeah. Like this”, he whispers. You’re so close.
His fingers move just right—fast, precise, relentless—and your body can’t take it anymore. It hits you all at once. You gasp, eyes squeezing shut, legs trembling as the orgasm rolls through you.
He doesn’t stop until you're done—his fingers slow down, helping you through it, letting you ride it out as your whole body shudders against him.
Then he kisses you—soft, almost sweet, lips warm and slow. You melt into it, dizzy, still catching your breath.
He smiles into the kiss, smug as hell. “You think they heard you?”
You smack his chest, face burning, and he just laughs—loud, unbothered—and gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s nothing.
“Time to sleep,” he says, all casual, like he didn’t just make you fall apart on the kitchen counter.
You’re still dazed, legs weak, not even trying to get up when he picks up your clothes. And just as you’re wondering what now, he lifts you—hands under your thighs and back—carrying you.
You bury your face in his neck, skin still warm, and you can feel him chuckling, chest shaking under your cheek.
He carries you into your room, setting you down on the bed,you lean back on your elbows, chest rising and falling, still hazy from your high—but your eyes are locked on him. The soft light from the hallway hits his skin just right. His abs flex as he moves, still shirtless, just his jeans hanging low on his hips.
You're supposed to be tired. You’re supposed to be done.
But your body says otherwise.
He notices your stare. “Don’t look at me like that.”
You tilt your head. “Like what?”
He runs a hand through his hair, almost flustered, but that smirk is back.
“Like you want more. You know I lose control when you do that.”
You lean forward, lips brushing into a small, wicked smile. “Hm, really?”
He curses under his breath.
You shift onto your knees, crawling closer to where he’s standing by the bed, teasing, until you’re eye level with his lips. You watch him closely, deliberately. His eyes darken, flickering down to your mouth.
“You’re testing my patience,” he mutters.
“I’m just being like always,” you say, like it’s innocent—but the way you graze your fingers over his belt says otherwise.
He laughs, low and rough. “You’re impossible.”
Then he kisses you, hard, like he’s finally letting go again.
Your hands move lower, reaching for him, cupping him as you finally try to undo his belt. But he gently brushes your hands away, shaking his head.
“Mhh, no,” he says against your lips, voice deep and determined. “I’m not done with you.”
His hand finds your waist, guiding you back down to the bed without breaking the kiss. You sigh into it, helpless under his touch.
Mingyu slips off your bra, he trails kisses down your collarbone, your chest—slow. His mouth lingers on your breasts, lips and tongue teasing. You’re biting back a moan when he lightly sucks on your nipple. His other hand slides lower, down your side, until it reaches your hips. You gasp as his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties.
He pulls them down slowly, watching every flicker of your expression like it’s something he doesn’t want to miss. Like he’s imprinting it in his mind.
Then he kisses lower—over your stomach, your hips your inner thighs. His lips brush every part of you except where you want him most. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, and it’s driving you insane.
You breathe in sharply when his mouth finally finds you. His tongue moves in slow, careful circles over your clit, your fingers already tangling in the sheets. He’s gentle at first, like he’s still learning, but his confidence grows fast. And it’s not just skill—it’s the way he pays attention. The way he listens to every sound you make, every breath you take He groans into you, like he needs it just as badly.
You can barely focus. Your thoughts are scattered. All you know is heat. His tongue. That pressure building again, way too fast.
You peek down at him, and the sight almost ruins you. His eyes are half-lidded, completely focused —locked on yours. His brows slightly furrowed like he’s concentrating, feeling you, not just tasting. His grip tightens on your thighs as you move, and he groans against you—fuck, he’s into it.
And in his head? He’s losing it.
This is all he ever wanted.
He’d dreamed about this—too many nights, too many times imagining what you'd sound like, taste like, how you’d fall apart under his mouth. But none of it compares to this—flushed, needy, eyes fluttering, mouth open with every breathy moan. And the way you say his name?
Yeah, he’s gone.
He’s so mad at himself—mad that he waited this long, mad that he let you be so close for so long without touching you like this. But right now? He’s making up for it.
He presses your thighs open wider, groaning at the way you react. His tongue starts to move faster now, rougher, more deliberate. Circling, sucking, teasing. You whimper his name—desperate, breathless—and he loves it. Every moan you try to bite back just makes him go harder.
“Mingyu—fuck—” you breathe, legs trembling under his grip.
And he just hums into you in response, lips curved, like he’s proud of the way you fall apart for him all over again.
He slips a finger inside you, and your back arches, a loud gasp ripping from your throat before you can stop it. You glance down—his mouth still on you, tongue still moving—and you can see it.
That smug little smile.
You actually want to slap him for it. But God, it feels so good. Too good.
You shove your finger between your lips, biting down hard, because otherwise you'd be moaning his name.
Trying to not wake anyone. But he makes it impossible. His finger curls just right, finding that spot that makes your whole body clench, and then—
A second finger. Thicker. Deeper. You cry out into your arm, hand flying to his hair, gripping hard—more for your sanity than his guidance.
This isn’t what you had in mind when you got drunk last night—but fuck, you’re not complaining.
“Mingyu—I’m going to—”
You can barely get the words out, voice all shaky. He pulls back just a little, breath heavy against your thigh, fingers still pumping into you slow and deep, while looking at you in your eyes.
“Not yet,” he says, voice low, but wrecked. “Just a little longer, please?”
You want to curse at him, cry, beg—but all that comes out is a desperate whine. You throw your head back into the mattress, eyes squeezed shut.
You need it.
But he knows that. He wants you right there. He wants to watch you fall apart again—and know it’s him doing it to you.
His fingers speed up, more precise now, like he knows exactly how much you can take. His tongue’s back on you—licking, moaning with you, vibrating against you.
And when he lifts your legs up, resting them on his broad shoulders—you can’t take it anymore.
Your whole body clenches. The heat crashes over you so fast it steals your breath. Your hands still tangled in his hair as he stays with you till wave ends.
He doesn’t let go. He holds you through it, still licking you soft and slow, humming gently like he’s calming you down from a high only he could give.
He smiles to himself, then leans in to kiss you again—slow, deep. You can still taste yourself on his lips. You kiss him back. your body’s still buzzing, but God, you're tired.
Eventually, he lets himself drop back onto the bed beside you, one arm flung lazily over his eyes. You're both breathing hard, skin warm and flushed.
“You tired?” he murmurs, voice a little hoarse.
You hum, eyes still closed. “Yes… but no.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, shifting just enough to peek at you from under his arm. “What kinda answer is that?”
You giggle softly, brain still foggy. “You?”
“Kinda, yeah.” He drags a hand through his messy hair. “You seriously drive me insane. I was tense the whole damn day… like some fucking college kid with a crush.”
You smile to yourself. “Oh yeah? You deserved it. You made me wait long enough.”
He lifts his head, resting on his elbows now, eyebrows raised. “I made you wait?Are you kidding? I was trailing after you like a damn dog for months. Everyone saw it. Everyone. Except for— you. They made fun of me. Hoshi even gave me names. He called me a puppy!”
“You didn’t do anything either!” you shoot back. “And it’s not my fault—you’re nice to everyone!”
“Yeah, but…” he pauses, and you can feel something shift in the air between you. You look at him, waiting for ending the sentence.
“I’m only in love with you.”
The words are soft. Steady. No hesitation, no teasing this time. And it hits you. Your heart stutters—you look at him, searching his face, trying to read the truth in his eyes.
He meant it. Every word.
Your lips part, but no answer comes. Not yet. Instead, your gaze drops—his chest still rising fast, the muscles of his stomach tense, his jeans still unbuttoned, the bulge beneath his boxers so obvious now.
A slow smile curls on your lips.
“You waited that long?”, drawing the word out, fingers drifting low on his stomach.
He groans, tossing his arm back over his face. “Don’t mock me.”
You lean in. “What did they call you again?” Your hand cups him through his boxers—he’s already hard.
He lets out a long breath through his nose, biting back a curse.
“Stop playing…” he mutters, but it’s weak—he doesn’t really mean it.
Your voice dips lower. “Did Hoshi call you a puppy?”
“Mhm— a puppy in love, he said.”
A slow smirk tugs at your lips as your hand dips beneath the waistband of his boxers, fingers wrapping around him. He’s hot, thick, and already leaking. He groans—sharp and low.
“Fuck—don’t tease—”
You pull down his jeans and boxers in one slow motion, freeing his cock. He twitches in your hand.
“So much pre-cum…” you say. “Were you really about to cum in your pants, Gyu?”
He laughs at himself, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, yes—almost.”
You bite your lip, your hand moving slow at first, teasing.
His breath catches. “Shit—I’m sensitive.”
You watch the way his expression shifts—brows knit together, lips parting, chest rising quicker with every breath.
“Don’t—ahh—your hands…” he groans, voice breaking around the words.
You go a little faster. His hips twitch. A breathless moan slips from his lips and he grabs at the sheets.
“What if I..” You lean in, breath ghosting over the tip of his cock. You give a soft lick, just once—just to see.
“Shit— cant you just—” he gasps, jaw clenched tight.
You look up at him, wide-eyed and innocent. “Not so loud,” you whisper. “What if they hear you like this?”
He lets out a desperate sound, biting down on his fist, like that’ll help.
You smirk, finally taking him into your mouth—slow, deep, with deliberate pressure. His whole body jerks.
He’s trying to hold back. He doesn’t even dare to look at you. Because if he does—if he watches your lips wrapped around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut, your head moving slow and steady—he’ll lose it. Completely.
You suck him deeper, your lips wrapped tight, tongue tracing every inch. He’s so responsive, so sensitive, every little flick making him twitch in your mouth. His thighs tense beneath your hands, and the soft, ragged sounds coming from his throat only make you want more.
“Shit—” he gasps, a hand reaching down, not to push you away—but to ground himself. His fingers tangle in your hair, not guiding, just holding.
You glance up. His head’s tossed back, lips parted.
He tries to hold still. Tries not to fuck up into your mouth. But the way you’re working him—slow, then fast, then slow again—it’s driving him insane.
And then suddenly—
“Wait—fuck, baby—stop.”
You try to understand why he pulled away—lips still parted, his length heavy in your hand—and then you hear it. Footsteps. The faint creak of the bathroom door down the hall. Someone’s awake.
instead of stopping, you stroke him—slow, deliberate—watching his eyes flutter, jaw clench tight.
“Shit, baby…” he whispers, voice tight, “I can’t hold it in. I’m gonna—”
You lean up, cutting him off with a kiss. A soft hush. You don’t want him too loud either. But he’s still so hard, throbbing in your hand, and the way he kisses you back—messy and desperate—tells you how badly he’s struggling.
He sits up slowly, his hands grip your waist, pulling you into his lap like he can’t help it. You settle over him, straddling, still bare, your pussy brushing his cock. The friction makes you both gasp—his tip slides right against your folds, wet and hot and so wrong. So good.
“Fuck—” he groans into your mouth. “Baby, your pussy… it's—shit—it’s right there.”
“I know,” you whisper, lips brushing his. You roll your hips, letting his cock glide through your slick folds, not quite inside, but enough to make him lose his breath. “But we’re not having sex, right?”
His hands squeeze your hips tighter, trying to steady you, but you keep grinding—slow, delicious pressure. His cock slides over your clit just right, making you both shiver.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he breathes.
“But you like it,” you whisper against his jaw, biting it gently.
“Fuck baby, I love it. You feel—mhm—fuck.” He’s unraveling beneath you, hips jerking up once, just barely.
You smirk and keep going. Little circles. Little rocks of your hips. You moan quietly, lips brushing his ear. “What if I came like this? Just from grinding on your cock?”
“Dont fucking talk like that. Shit—”
And then he says it—low, strained, breathless:
“Just the tip?” He meets your eyes, voice barely a whisper. “It wouldn’t count… right?”
The smirk on your lips falters when you feel him shift beneath you. He looks at you, one arm wrapping around your waist. His tone drops lower—deeper, more confident now. “Say yes.”
You nod. That’s all he needs.
He pulls you down—slowly—just enough to push the head of his cock inside. You gasp at the stretch, at how thick he feels, even like this. He holds you there, both of you trembling, his forehead resting against yours.
You whimper, but before you can speak, he moves. He rocks his hips up—just once, shallow, purposeful. Enough to make you cry out and cling to him.
He chuckles, quiet and low. “Told you. Just the tip, and already look at you…”
Your nails dig into his shoulders, and he loves it.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he murmurs, guiding your hips slowly, letting you feel all of him without giving you everything. “Look at you. So desperate to be full, huh?”
You nod again, helpless. “Please…”
He tilts your chin up, kissing you softly—then deeper, filthier. “You want more?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
He hums, leaning back to look at you. “Then ask me.”
You swallow hard, but your mouth stays shut, lips parted, breath shallow. You know what he wants to hear— but something in you won’t give it to him that easily. Not yet.
“Hm?” he says softly, eyes narrowing with the hint of a smirk. “No?”
His hands slide down your sides, slow and sure. He shifts his hips under you—just the head of his cock still buried inside, pulsing—and rolls them up ever so slightly. Just enough to make your breath hitch.
“You gonna make me work for it, huh?” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your jaw. One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers trailing over your clit in featherlight circles. You jerk forward instinctively, gasping.
“Fuck—Mingyu—”
“Still not asking,” he mutters, almost amused, his voice thick with restraint.
He keeps circling, teasing—soft, slow, maddening. At the same time, he rocks his hips again, just a little, dragging himself barely an inch deeper inside you. Your body clenches down, desperate for more.
You whimper, hands braced on his chest, trying not to completely melt. He’s watching you now, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every twitch, every shaky breath.
His free hand grips your ass, guiding you into a slow, lazy grind against him. The friction makes your head spin—you can feel the tip of his cock pressing right there, and his fingers still working you, too slow to satisfy, too perfect to ignore.
You try to hold on—but your body betrays you, chasing the rhythm, chasing more. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but your pride holds them back just a moment longer.
He leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “I’ll keep going like this all night,” he whispers, voice rough. “Just like this. Teasing you. Keeping you full, but never enough. Is that what you want?”
“N-No,” you breathe, almost a sob. Your legs are shaking now, your whole body aching.
“Say it,” he whispers. You break. You can’t take it anymore.
“Please—Mingyu—fuck me.”
And the second those words leave your mouth, his expression shifts—something deeper, darker flashes in his eyes.
He grabs your waist with both hands and sinks you down onto him in one slow, devastating thrust, filling you inch by inch until you’re gasping his name, your body going taut.
“There you go,” he breathes, his voice strained, jaw clenched. “Fuck—you take me so well.”
You’re panting, hips rolling instinctively, but he slows you down with a firm grip.
“Not yet,” he murmurs. “I want to feel you like this. Just… stay here a second.”
You can feel him pulsing inside you, his hands roaming your back, your hips, your thighs like he’s trying to memorize every part of you. He presses kisses to your neck, slow and hot.
Then he starts to move—hips snapping up, controlled, deep. Not rough, but precise. He watches your face the whole time, eyes flicking down to your parted lips, your fluttering lashes, the way you gasp when he hits that spot inside you.
“You feel me right there?” he growls against your ear. “Right where you needed it?”
You nod frantically, fingers clutching his shoulders, your voice broken.
“Tell me,” he urges, his tone softer now, coaxing. “Tell me how good I make you feel.”
“So good—fuck, so deep—Mingyu—”
He kisses you again, grinning into it, just a little cocky now that you’re coming apart in his hands. His pace quickens, your moans slipping free with every thrust, louder, needier.
And then he stills, his grip on your waist tightening.
“Ride me,” he says, voice low and hoarse. “Fuck yourself on my cock. Let me watch you.”
You bite your lip, breath shaky, but you shift your weight and begin to move—slow at first, dragging your hips in circles, rolling against him. He groans, loud, his head tipping back, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches you from beneath messy strands of hair.
“That’s it, baby,” he pants. “Just like that—fuck—look at you.”
You start to bounce, the rhythm building as his hands slide down to your hips, helping, guiding, squeezing. The sound of skin on skin fills the air, filthy and wet and perfect. You can’t stop moaning, can’t stop grinding down onto him—because he’s so deep, and you’re so full, and it’s too much.
You’re close. You can feel it coiling deep in your stomach.
“I—Gyu—I’m—” You don’t even finish. Your body seizes up, every muscle tightening as you cry out his name and fall apart around him, shaking, pulsing, gasping.
“Let go, baby,” he whispers, his voice wrecked. “Come for me. Right here, right on my cock.”
He’s right there with you—watching you fall apart around him has him unraveling, too. His fingers tighten at your waist, jaw clenched, a desperate groan tearing from his throat.
“I’m gonna cum—fuck, I can’t hold it—”
“Cum inside me,” you breathe, still trembling, your voice barely more than a whimper. You’re still fluttering around him, soaked and warm, and the plea in your voice pushes him right over the edge.
With a broken moan of your name, he buries himself deep, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, pulsing hot and thick. He holds you tight through it, his face tucked into your neck, breath shaky and warm against your skin.
For a while, neither of you moves. There’s just the sound of your heartbeats, the rise and fall of your chests pressed together.
Then he presses a kiss to your shoulder. Then your jaw. Then your lips—soft, lingering. You both smile into it, drunk on the closeness.
As the haze starts to fade, you shift your hips, starting to lift off him gently.
But his arms tighten, holding you in place.
“No,” he murmurs, half-pleading. “I wanna stay inside you a little longer.”
You sink back down with a quiet laugh, and he whimpers.
“Shit,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m still sensitive…”
You smile, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead and kiss the tip of his nose. He blinks up at you, wide-eyed and flushed—and then he just starts to laugh. His hair is a wreck, his lips still kiss-bruised, and his collarbone is marked where you bit him earlier. But it’s his eyes that undo you—bright and crinkled at the corners.
You laugh too, even if you’re not sure why. “What?” you ask, grinning.
He shakes his head, still smiling like he can’t believe you’re real.
“I’m a fucking puppy in love.”
a/n: it’s done!! finally. i’m so sorry for making you guys wait this long, but i’m actually really happy with how it turned out. i hope you like it just as much as i do ⭑.ᐟ
thank you so much for waiting patiently—your comments were seriously the sweetest and so, so kind. ⋆.˚
fun fact about the whole “jealousy” story:
this actually started out as a completely different story. i was inspired by that one gif of mingyu at the gym, and had this whole plot in mind… but then i realized it needed some context to make sense, and somewhere along the way, it just turned into this.
so yeah, that’s why san’s little cameo feels kinda random 😭 BUT i’m thinking of turning that original idea into a bonus part for this one instead...would you want to read it?? let me know in the comments, in my dms, wherever—i’d love to hear from you!!
summary: 13 sfw & 13 nsfw ot13 svt with individual member sections reader insert fics :)
contains: 18+ nsfw (mdni!!) majority is afab reader
✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩
✩ sfw section ✩
❥ levels of romance - @soonyoungs
❥ seventeeners' random habits <3 - @shuacore
❥ seventeen x groveling - @boofeine
❥ svt when reader journals about them. - @xinganhao
❥ SEVENTEEN AND SOFT LAUNCHING - @odxrilove
❥ them helping their s/o relax after work - @hannieehaee
❥ clingy around s/o - @wheeboo
❥ randomly kissing svt’s hands - @lovingseventeen
❥ seventeen's reaction when you prank them by wiping your lips after they kiss you - @etherealyoungk
❥ svt - when you forgot to kiss them - @wooahaes
❥ i will really live the rest of my life repaying you. - @ylangelegy
❥ how seventeen get cuteness aggression for their s/o - @fairyhaos
❥ clingy with s/o - @babyleostuff
✩ nsfw section ✩
❥ things that get svt vocal in bed - @boofeine
❥ SVT ; ! most likely to be a submissive - @nsfwhao
❥ cock warming with seventeen - @hoshifighting
❥ seventeen reaction at you trying to dom them - @hannieehaee
❥ cumming too fast - @sluttywonwoo
❥ yandere!poly!bandmates!svt x gn!14thmember!you - @yiichan
❥ ass or boobs - @svtswhorehouse
❥ svt bust hands free/in their pants - @hoshifighting
❥ things you do that make svt bust quick - @pochaccoups
❥ kinky things that make seventeen members more aroused during sex - @boofeine
❥ asking to place lipstick marks on 'it' - @cxffecoupx
❥ cumming untouched - @sluttywonwoo
❥ riding seventeen until they cant physically cum anymore (getting milked dry) - @hoshifighting
ames note: no commentary cuz i just wanted to get a fic rec post out since i haven't done one in nearly 2 weeks. i hope y'all enjoy and give the authors some love!! i hope everyone is as excited for howoo as i ammmm <3
shot in the dark, or an attempt that has little chance for success. (sometimes, a sliver of a chance is all you need.)
Liked by xinganhao, studioeisa, and others
film_jww Days in the sun.
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with love, kae ✎ as a camera nerd myself, one of the things that has always endeared me to wonu has been his love for [film] photography. hugs to all my fellow wonwoorideuls. there's a sunny day on the other end of all our waiting. (:
› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao
Hiii could you pls write about how seventeen gets their s/o to sit in their lap?? Thanks so much
svt getting their s/o to sit on their lap
a/n: i hope this is sufficient for my very delayed return (please).
seungcheol:
✿ it's truly just second nature for him at this point
✿ he'll just casually guide you onto his lap and you don't really question it either
✿ say you're about to sit next to him on the couch
✿ as you're about to sit he'll just lightly pull your wrist in his direction and there you are
jeonghan:
✿ loves to rest his head on your shoulder when you sit on his lap
✿ the simplest "come here" and you're following
✿ he loves this because you don't even have to pay attention to him but he has all the access to wrap his arms around your middle
joshua:
✿ pats his leg when you want to show him something on your phone
✿ "josh look at this thing i just saw-"
✿ immediately, he's sitting up and spreading his legs so you can walk in the space between them and sit on one of his thighs
✿ "let me see, pretty"
jun:
✿ will gradually shift you onto his lap over time absentmindedly
✿ neither of you two really notice but you just wind up there
✿ you were watching a movie on opposite ends of the couch (which is fine) but now you're there??? (no one is complaining)
hoshi:
✿ so annoying about it (i mean this in a loving way)
✿ why should you sit anywhere else when his lap is literally right there??
✿ even if you sat somewhere else without thinking about it he's jokingly scoffing "so you hate me"
✿ (it's okay, just go sit on his lap and peck his cheek and he's all giddy again)
wonwoo:
✿ pulls you towards him by an article of clothing
✿ it could be your pants loop, the sleeve of your hoodie, or the back of your shirt
✿ he doesn't need to ask you twice :')
woozi:
✿ always asks for your opinion when he makes a new beat or writes new lyrics
✿ "i want you to listen to this" he says with a hand stretched out
✿ he likes to have you sit on his lap while he places the headphones around your ears
✿ he gently presses his forehead to your back as he waits for your thoughts
dokyeom:
✿ perpetually wrapped around you anyway (his love language is physical touch)
✿ it doesn't take long when an arm around your shoulder as you're sitting next to each other moves to your waist
✿ then he figures this isn't close enough and he'll also maneuver you so you're eventually on his lap. he'll quite literally wrap his arms around your middle so he can move you
✿ "this is better" as he nudges his face into your neck
mingyu:
✿ will manhandle you if he has to
✿ you try teasing him just to see him get pouty and as you're trying to get away from him, he uses a little bit more of his strength to pull you towards him
✿ but as you're sat you feel him mumble against your shoulder "do you actually not want to?"
minghao:
✿ i think he's a pretty straightforward person
✿ a simple tucking your hair behind your ears and he's caught your attention
✿ "i want you closer" as he holds your arm to help you move
seungkwan:
✿ dances around the subject instead of just telling you what he wants lol
✿ "did you know that sitting on wooden chairs is actually bad for your back? there's no cushioning"
✿ "oh really? should we order cushions then or-"
✿ "you could sit somewhere else"
✿ "but i need the table for my laptop and i get so lazy on the couch-"
✿ "then maybe you could just sit here" he offers, moving his chair back to welcome you. then it all clicks (he's a dork)
vernon:
✿ also probably someone who just tugs you gently in his direction
✿ i don't think he'd need to use words for you to get it either
✿ even if you're standing around him doing anything else and you feel him lightly pull the back of your sweater you follow him without giving it much thought
chan:
✿ as long as you're in his vicinity he pulls you with him as he sits down
✿ both of you just came home from work? he's dropping himself down on the couch and you're coming with him
✿ has most definitely missed at least once and you both landed on the floor
