â synopsis: kim mingyu is a dear friend. a dear friend that spends nights in your arms, said nights set aflame with the tick tick tick of your gas stove when he makes you dinner, and searing kisses when he lays you down in your bed. yes, kim mingyu is a dear friend...and you wish he were more.
â genre: friends with benefits to lovers au; fluff, angst, some suggestive/smutty content.
â pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader
â word count: 11.8k
â rating: 18+. minors do not interact.
â warnings: they're stupid. literally so fucking stupid. fighting, mentions of infidelity, jealousy & insecurities. mildly sexual themes and content: brief p in v scene, there's a titty in his mouth, etc. kissing, pet names (babe/baby, sweetheart, honey, etc.)
â what to listen to: ribs - lorde ; starbright - dabin, trella ; people watching - conan gray ; hard part's over - hoang, page ; like real people do - hozier ; fineshrine - purity ring.
â author's note: thank you to @/saradika-graphics here on tumblr for these daisy dividers! that being said, this is not proofread, but it was beta'd by my dear @starlightkyeom. another fic for thee gyuldaengie ever, @gyuswhore because i posted late and i just love you that dang much. dedicated to em (again!) i love you. âĄ
KIM MINGYU COULD VERY WELL BE THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.Â
Sweet, thoughtful, and delicate. Fragile, even: in ego, in sex, in love.Â
Sometimes, you think heâs made for you. Like Eve was made for Adam, by the rib. Sometimes you feel an ache in your left side, and you wonder if itâs the lack of Mingyuâs lingering presence â only to see him a week later, shown up to your front door with a beautiful bouquet and a bottle of wine.Â
Kim Mingyu is the petals of every flower in all the bouquets heâs ever given you. Velvety soft, perfectly cared for and beautiful.Â
But just as he is all those things â he is your Achillesâ heel. You can never say no to Kim Mingyu, can never admit that he something more to you than you care to acknowledge beyond just that â something more.Â
And just as easily as those flowers of yours were picked, they were tossed. Once they died, they served no value. Youâd watch the petals fall onto your desk for a while, dried and crisp; before inevitably swiping them into the trash can and dumping the dirty water into the sink. The vase waited, empty (like you,) to be refilled once Mingyu swung by for his bi-monthly fix.Â
It wasnât always like this.Â
You used to save some of the petals, some of the flowers themselves. Press them in wax paper between heavy books and forget about them until you read the books again. Youâd toy with the dried petals, before they eventually became littered around your apartment â in the form of coasters, framed on the walls, even a pair of earrings you once made at a crafts class.Â
Because in the beginning, in the very beginning â Mingyu was just your friend.Â
He was your very nice, very attentive friend that brought you gorgeous bouquets from his florist friendâs shop, always picked out by Mingyu himself â down to the colorful paper wrapping and satin bow. Youâd rarely see him more than once or twice a month as it was, because Mingyu is a very busy man â so the flowers were always accompanied with an apologetic smile and a quick kiss to your cheek. Youâd make dinner together, or heâd cook for the two of you; his presence warm and inviting even in your own home. Â
Heâd serve you a glass of wine or three, plate your dinner like youâre at a nice restaurant and hand you extra silverware in case one of you fell victim to his butterfingers â and he knew your apartment like the back of his hand. He knew you like the back of his hand.Â
Then, you kissed.Â
One time. By complete and utter accident.Â
You had moved into his typical cheek kiss in greeting, the both of you springing away almost immediately when you felt each otherâs lips. You both spewed apologies like geysers, talking over one another before you both laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.Â
âNo more kisses, got it. Couldâve said something earlier, you know.â He joked, but finally greeted you with a warm hug paired with a mumbled itâs so nice to see you that made your stomach flutter for the first time ever. You were wide eyed as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in the warmth of his body, in the soft feeling of his cashmere sweater that youâd given him for his birthday many moons ago.Â
Unfortunately, the attempt to make dinner together was awkward. You were both anxiously trying to keep things level, trying to crack jokes and talk about your lives outside of each other when you just sighed; your hands on your hips as you glanced at him in your pink apron that was much too small.Â
And he kissed you â this time, with purpose. He held your face gently between his hands, your own fisting the stupidly expensive cashmere sweater that left you without eggs and bread that month. Â
Dinner wasnât homemade, after all. Heâd turned the stove off in your frenzy to pull his belt off, his hands holding you flush to him as he led you both to your bedroom â where heâd shown you exactly why his ex-girlfriend canât leave him alone, and why your ex-boyfriend constantly felt inferior to him. He made it clear he wanted you, even if it was just for the night â and he wasnât about to fuck up the only potential chance heâd gotten.Â
You both fell asleep before either of you could say anything about the missed dinner, and the morning after was full of shy stares and a silent agreement â after you asked him if heâd even wanted to be your friend, if this was his plan all along. He admitted honestly that heâd never anticipated something like this and he never secretly wanted you, either â that heâd been your friend because he loves you, because youâre sweet and funny, because youâre you.Â
Twice a month. Dinner. Sex. Repeat. Just to get the taste of each other off your tongues, to fill the void of feeling someone next to you while youâre sleeping.Â
Eventually, you realized that things between you and Mingyu had grown to be just that â a fix. A bi-monthly, sometimes tri-monthly, fix; where he came to your apartment and still yielded those beautiful flowers. Heâd gotten more into making dinner on his own, and youâd choose somethnig to watch â and youâd spend an hour or so filling each other in about your time apart over the warm meal and some stupid movie, if not Gilmore Girls.Â
Until one of you leans in for the first kiss of the tumble, and the illusion of romance shatters at your fingertips.Â
Not because Mingyu isnât romantic; if anything, the guy could drown you in romance. In soft touches, in mood lighting, in catering to your every need while still meeting his own with little intereference. Heâs kind and gentle, with an edge that makes your skin prickle when he works you over with his tongue between your thighs after peeling your clothes off with needy hands. Heâs a bitch when his teeth nip at the skin of your thighs, his fingers digging into the meat of them like heâs scared youâll disappear if he makes the wrong move; and you can feel the way he smiles against you as he brings you to the first orgasm of the night.Â
Heâs yours when he kisses you like you mean everything to him, when he holds your knees to your chest while you cry on his cock. Heâs yours when he holds you close, massaging your hips and kissing the expanse of your bare shoulders.Â
And you are his.Â
You are absolutely, irrevocably his when he slips inside you for the second time that night â his teeth sinking lightly into your shoulder at how sensitive he is but he loves the way you feel. Shuddered whimpers will fill the room, murmurs of missing you when heâs gone as he nibbles on your earlobe; he leaves a mess between your thighs, snugly wrapped in your walls as you both drift to sleep.Â
Every. Single. Time.Â
Maybe itâs not all that romantic.Â
Maybe itâs just...sex. Casual sex that convinces you itâs more the moment you press your lips to his because youâre so certain Heaven is a place on Earth â and itâs in Kim Mingyuâs arms.Â
Thatâs where it all ends, anyway. Heâs gone in the morning without much conversation; youâll shower together like real couples do and heâs started keeping a few changes of clothes in your apartment. Youâll brush you teeth together like real couples do; heâll even rub lotion on your back before kissing the back of your neck and asking if you want breakfast. If you say no, he leaves.Â
If you say yes...heâll make breakfast, an entire spread. Heâll make coffee, and heâll sit right next to you in the cute breakfast nook that sold you on your apartment three years ago â right after youâd broken up with that ex-boyfriend that never liked Mingyu. For who he was, what he stood for or what he could provide...you werenât all that sure.Â
But you donât really care, either.Â
Mingyu helped decorate your apartment. He helped you make it yours and even slept on the floor of your bedroom with you when you were too scared to be alone on the first night. He didnât complain about his very obviously sore neck the next morning, only giving you a quick hug goodbye as he left to his apartment six blocks away for a shower â and returning within two hours to help you paint your bathroom.Â
They say that friends to lovers is the best way to go. Friends that know each otherâs coffee orders by heart, turning into lovers that deliver said coffee with a kiss on the lips. Friends that help each other pick an outfit for a night out, becoming lovers who take said outfit off at the end of the night with their lips running down each otherâs shoulders and other unnamed places.Â
Lovers, who mean it more than words can explain, and the warmth of a fire could never rival the true heat behind it â the three little words that linger on your tongue.Â
That stupid, stupid I love you.Â
But you are you, and Mingyu is...well, heâs Mingyu.Â
Youâre not sure what you are. Youâre certainly not friends, but youâre not lovers...youâre just Y/N and Mingyu, in limbo. No label, no questions and consequently, no answers.Â
And you want an answer. You want to know what itâs like for him to hold you closer when you move away to slip out of your bed in the morning. You want to know what itâs like for him to flip you onto your back and kiss you despite the morning breath, what itâs like to be Mingyuâs, eternally, and never have a way out.Â
But...you are you.Â
And you know better.Â
ITâS WEDNESDAY NIGHT WHEN YOUR PHONE PINGS ACROSSÂ APARTMENT.Â
You move out of the kitchen, making your way to it and grabbing it off the coffee table before flopping onto your couch.Â
NEW! (3) Messages From: Mingyu âĄÂ
[4:21 PM] hey, y/nÂ
[4:21 PM] just a quick question, are you free this friday?Â
[4:21 PM] no pressure đÂ
Youâre aptly draped across the couch for a distressed sigh as you read the messages. You throw your arm over your eyes, your heart beating just a little faster â there's a pot of stew heating up on the stove, and the whole house smells delicious as you close your eyes, knowing exactly how this could go.Â
Heâll show up at your doorstep, ten minutes before he said heâd be there. Heâll be wearing one of his nice shirts â maybe itâll be that baby blue one that you love â maybe itâll be the dark red that he always tucks neatly into slacks. Maybe heâll be dressed down, something you donât to see all that often â sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie, but heâll still be carrying that stupidly large bouquet of flowers and a bottle of your favorite wine. Heâll kiss you hello again, but it wonât be on your cheek â no, heâll kiss your lips.Â
Heâll kiss your lips and hold your waist gently, pulling you into him. Heâll nip at your lower lip, inching his way into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before setting the flowers down on the foyer table and pulling away. Heâll say itâs nice to see you, that he missed you, that he wants to hear about your day before kissing you breathless.Â
Because heâs Mingyu.Â
âAnd Iâll fall for it every damn time,â you sigh, staring at the screen. Your fingers move quickly, typing a singular âsureâ, only to see his read receipt pop up before you can even sit up. Like heâs waiting for you to answer â sat at his desk, the one thatâs shoved in the corner of his office and way too cramped for a guy his size. The one thatâs piled high with confidential documents, that he eats his lunch at that he packs himself early in the mornings.Â
The one heâs sent you a few suggestive pieces of media from, the image of his silver watch moving up and down your screen still burned into your mind.Â
NEW! (2) Messages from: Mingyu âĄÂ
[4:26 PM] hm, donât know if i liked the way you answered that.Â
[4:26 PM] are you okay?Â
Are you?Â
You donât get much of a chance to reply before heâs calling you. You quickly decline it, texting back with the excuse that youâre in the shower.Â
NEW! (2) Messages from: Mingyu âĄÂ
[4:27 PM] youâre literally laying on your couch. you donât shower until six.Â
[4:28 PM] this is your âlazy girlâ time, youâve told me. i know.Â
âCurse your memory, Kim Mingyu,â you grumble, fumbling around to call him on Facetime. He picks up on the second ring, putting his AirPod in â but heâs not dressed the way he usually is after work. Or rather, during: heâs still got thirty minutes to his workday.Â
But youâre not complaining at the sleeveless white shirt, feeling your cheeks hot as he raises a brow at you through the screen.Â
âWhat are you doing?â You prop yourself up on a throw pillow, only for Mingyu to flip the camera and show the inside of your favorite grocery store, âwhat are you doing there? Itâs Wednesday, you should be at work.âÂ
âAnd you should tell me whatâs got you so pouty.â He says pointedly, propping you up in the cart as he grabbed a bag for tomatoes. Youâre silent as you watch him pick them out carefully, gentle fingers you miss wrapped around your throat squeezing the fruit softly. You blink as the thought leaves your mind, your mouth dry as you shake it off while he ties the plastic bag expertly.Â
âSo? Whatâs got you so iffy?âÂ
âNothing.âÂ
âYouâre a horrible liar.âÂ
Mingyu gives you a stern look as he hunches over the cart, pursing his lips as his eyes dart around the store for the next item to take him. Maybe peppers. Maybe a tub of soybean paste.Â
Maybe someone else to fill his bed, his heart. His stomach, with delicious meals he never lets you cook for him anymore because, in his words â you're tired. You work so hard and youâve had a long day, sweetheart. Just sit on the island and keep me company.Â
âNeed an answer sooner rather than later, sweetheart.â His voice is gentle as he grabs your attention again, only making you scoff as you wave him off with your hand.Â
âSeriously, Iâm fine.âÂ
âI dunno. First, you give me a one-word answer. Never in our six-year friendship have you responded to me that way, even when youâre in a bad mood.âÂ
You tongue your cheek as he stops the cart in the snack aisle, your eyes floating immediately to the cinnamon biscuits right next to his head. He reaches for them, tossing the box into his cart without a second thought before reading the ingredients on a box of almond cookies, ânext, you lie to me. A bold-faced lie, and to my face, at that.âÂ
âI lied to your phone screen, dramatic ass.â You mutter, watching the way his fingers drum against the yellow box. Heâs wearing the ring youâd given him for Christmas last year, the white gold snug on his thumb as he hums. He puts the box back, grabbing another with a click of his tongue.Â
âThat I pay the bill on, mind you. So, youâre wasting time and money instead of just telling me what your deal is.âÂ
âThere is no deal, Mingyu. Iâm not BOGO.â You snort, shifting on your couch and resting your arm under your head. He looks at the phone, tossing the cookies into his cart, âI should be glad, BOGO of you would kill me. Youâre more like buy one, get one half off.âÂ
âI think Iâm more of a buy-two, get one free.âÂ
âThatâs even worse. One of you is more than enough. And thatâs coming from me, someone who gets all of you regularly and happily, at that.âÂ
ââAll of meâ is a technicality.â You roll your eyes, only watching the tips of his ears turn pink as he analyzes yet another box. Crackers this time, cheddar ones. Not your favorite, and infinitely inferior to the Parmesan ones.Â
âBe realistic, thereâs no one but me. Youâre just for me.â He murmurs, but the microphone catches it anyway. You tongue your cheek as he puts the box back, instead grabbing the Parmesan ones and throwing them in the cart. Your cheeks heat slightly as he nibbles on his lip, likely deep in thought as he looks over his cart.Â
âEven if thatâs true, you could still be nice to me.âÂ
âIâm so nice to you! I make you dinner, I buy you flowers, and I check in with you regularly. I get you gifts, I fixed your leaky faucet, and I rewired your entire gaming system after you moved into your apartment and didnât want to figure it out. Iâm the nicest guy ever, especially to you.â He huffs, and you let out a chuckle that makes his lips twitch. He masks it by sucking his teeth, and you shrug with an amused look on your face.Â
âYou cook me dinner because you want to, you buy me flowers because you feel guilty and you check in with me because your job keeps you from actually seeing me more than once or twice a month. You get me gifts to make up for the fact that youâre not around as often, you fixed my leaky faucet because I practically begged you to, and you rewired my gaming system because you and Wonwoo wanted to play GTA for six hours.â You point your finger at him, watching the way he nods before picking up his phone. The camera pauses, the sound of Left Right by XG playing in the store the only sound coming from his end.Â
NEW! Message from: Mingyu âĄÂ
[5:10 PM] i also go down on you because i want to, and i fuck you because i want to. but i donât hear you complaining about that, hm?Â
âBecause I want it, too.â You ignore the heart surging on your cheeks as you watch the message bubble pop up again. Â
NEW! Message from: Mingyu âĄÂ
[5:11 PM] then be nice to me before i stop doing that for us, pillow princess.Â
âI am not a pillow princess! You just never let me do anything!âÂ
The camera unpauses, showing Mingyu rolling his eyes and feigning disinterest before he sets the phone back down, âtell me whatâs up or Iâm coming over impromptu. I wonât give you time to tidy up, either.âÂ
âYou wouldnât do that; you probably have a nice steak in your basket. You wanna go home and cook it and text me all about how Iâm missing out because I live six blocks away and wonât walk to your place because those heels I wear make me too tired.â You snicker, watching the way he mimics you and moves his hand in a talking motion. You only laugh harder, âMingyu!âÂ
âLittle louder, sweetheart. The neigbors know my name, anyway.âÂ
âKim Mingyu, I am a lady.âÂ
âA loud one,â he snorts, sucking his teeth as he makes his way down the liquor aisle. âAre you free on Friday or not? Enthusiastically free, happy-to-see-your-Mingyu free. Not that sure shit, have some respect.âÂ
âMy Mingyu?â You smirk, but itâs a front. Your stomach is fluttering like crazy and you watch the way he bites back his smile to raise a brow at you.Â
âYou know any other Mingyus?âÂ
âPark Mingyu from the finance team that has had the hots for me since before you moved to the city.âÂ
âHe doesnât count, heâs in finance. Youâd get bored in two days.â He rolls his eyes again, âyes or no, sweetheart? My schedule fills up fast and Iâm actively trying to get you in.âÂ
âMore like youâre trying to get in me.âÂ
âThat too, but all Iâm hearing right now is that you hate me. Thatâs not all I have you around for, you know.âÂ
You roll your eyes, sighing. Heâs raking his eyes over you through the camera, grabbing a bottle of wine off the shelf as if itâs muscle memory. The label reads EISA Cabernet â your favorite. Particularly, when he makes you a thick steak with scalloped potatoes and asparagus that almost guarantees you fuck him within an inch of his life.Â
And he never complains.Â
âWhatâs wrong with you?â Â
âNothing, Gyu. I promise.âÂ
He crosses his arms, âI donât believe you.âÂ
âThen donât.âÂ
âYou hate me.âÂ
âSometimes, when you make my steak too rare or you pull out.âÂ
âHaha, so funny.â He sticks his tongue out at you, and you can tell by the signs on the ceiling that heâs moving to the checkout line. âYouâre really not gonna tell me whatâs up with you?âÂ
âWhat do you want me to say, Mingyu? That Iâm in distress? That Iâm having a bad day?â You joke, before pouting exaggeratedly, âoh, please, Mingyu. Iâve had such a long, lonely day. Come over, I need you.âÂ
âStop that.â He huffs, crossing his arms as he leans on the cart. You laugh again, running your hand through your hair as you feel his eyes trailing you. You raise a brow as his eyes stop on your chest, and you dramatically cover the bit of cleavage your V-neck sweater shows. He scoffs, tonguing his cheek as he gets a register, carefully parking the cart. âTilt the camera to your face, I donât need strangers seeing your whole chest.âÂ
âItâs not even my chest, dipshit. Itâs my necklace at best.âÂ
âNecklace I gave you.âÂ
âNever pegged you to be a jealous, possessive man, Mr. Kim.âÂ
âYou donât know a lot of things about me,â he shrugs, and you stick your tongue out at him as he scans his things. He shakes his head as you watch him, your eyes shamelessly trained on his arms as he moves about, before he snaps his fingers in front of the camera, âmust you eye fuck me like that?âÂ
âListen, friends can admire one anotherâs beauty. Thatâs part of it.âÂ
âSure, sweetheart. Friends also tell each other whatâs bothering them, but I guess weâre not all that of friends, hm?âÂ
The double entendre makes you scoff as he swipes his card, his receipt printing loudly as he makes faces at you. You donât speak as he takes the receipt and tucks it into his pocket, listening to him sweetly thank the aunties at the exit as he leaves with his cart. He whistles, âso? Whatâs wrong with you?âÂ
You donât reply, simply turning onto your belly and resting your cheek against the heel of your palm. You prop your phone up against the armrest of your couch, making a show of pulling your sweater down enough that it shows the white lace of your bra.Â
âTease.â He chides as he pops the trunk, âcome on, tell me. Because youâre gonna piss me off and then weâre both in a mood.âÂ
âIâm really fine, Gyu. Iâm tired, Iâm gonna eat some leftovers...maybe watch a movie. It's just one of those days, you know?â You shrug, âitâs not like anything is particularly wrong. I just feel weird, and thatâs okay.âÂ
Youâre lying through your teeth, but he doesnât look all that convince anyway as you hear the timer in your kitchen start going off. You give him a quick smile, âmy foodâs ready, so I gotta go but Iâll see you on Friday, Gyu. I promise Iâm excited to see you.âÂ
âWell, youâd still need the context of whatâs happening on Friday, but sure.â He shrugs, âjust...are you sure youâre okay? I can cancel. Iâll work around you, honey, just let me know.âÂ
You smile inwardly, pushing off the couch and taking your phone with you into the kitchen. You prop it up against your toaster as you reach for a bowl on your tiptoes, âI would say no if I didnât want to see you, Mingyu.âÂ
âI know, butââÂ
âMingyu, baby, please.â You set the bowl down, putting your hands on your hips. Heâs in his car now, pulling his seatbelt on as he balances you on the steering wheel. Heâs pouting, âexpect that impromptu visit anyway.âÂ
âYou never follow through with those, so I will not be cleaning my apartment tonight and I will be in my PJs by nine.â You respond, crossing your arms on your chest as you watch him roll his shoulders back â the fabric of his shirt taut against his chest. He catches you staring at him, his ears tinging pink once more as you smile cheekily, âIâll see you on Friday. Drive safe, okay?âÂ
âI will. Iâll see you later, baby.âÂ
The call ends before he can see you process the petname. Your cheeks are hot as you stare at your home screen, a picture of you that Mingyu took at a burger joint after you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. You had a smear of ketchup on your cheek and Mingyuâs fingers pinching the other â he'd taken you out because you had been the one to break things off after yet another jealous fit about you being friends with Mingyu.Â
When you think about it, he ended up being right â just six months after the breakup, youâd slept with Mingyu for the first time. Â
Jaehyun had always been iffy about Mingyu, but you didnât understand it then, or ever. The two of you had been dating for six months when he met Mingyu, your friend of two years at that point. They met at your birthday party, and Mingyu had been incredibly sweet â he'd greeted him with a firm handshake, complimented his shirt and watch, and asked what he was drinking. Jaehyun had stiffened slightly, likely at the way Mingyu towered over him; but his face soured when Mingyu greeted you next, the way he always had.Â
With that damn cheek kiss.Â
His aftershave was particularly minty that night, and it made something in your stomach lurch but you ignored it. Jaehyun was quiet that entire night, even later when you were both in bed together and he was on top of you â he murmured it, effectively killing your buzz and starting a fight.Â
âI donât like that Mingyu guy.âÂ
Your relationship was no more than two years of weird jealousy afterwards. Jaehyun, however, was worse than you were in the weird terms and conditions of dating these days â he still followed his ex-girlfriends on social media and frequently engaged with their posts (you didnât care.) He still talked to his most recent ex-girlfriend's mother, who he claimed said that he was like a son to her (again, you didnât give a shit.)Â
It seemed to bother Jaehyun that you did not care what he was doing with his âfriendsâ of the opposite sex. He seemed annoyed that you could frequently hang out with your friends without caring about what he thought â posing in photobooths for pictures with your life-long friends Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Seokmin, getting dinner with your old coworker (and BFF-by-proxy) Hansol Chwe, taking shots with said BFF Boo Seungkwan at your favorite bar to celebrate his birthday...Â
Posting pictures of you and Mingyu at a farmerâs market the autumn before the breakup, trying spiked apple cider and pumpkin soup that you ended up bringing home for him to try.Â
Jaehyun didnât like that you had friends he didnât like. He didnt like that you had male friends period, but you simply did not care and especially not when he went on and on about Mingyu like he had a crush on him. You listened to his jealous rants about Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan and Hansol silently, merely peering up at him through your lashes and sipping whatever drink was closest. However, he really amped it up when he met Mingyu â and went as far as saying he was sure Mingyu wanted to sleep with you.Â
Only for you to find out in two weeks time that Mingyu had been across town that same night, breaking up with his girlfriend for saying the exact same thing about you.Â
She was so sure you wanted Mingyu.Â
And the truth was, youâd never thought about it â ever. Youâd met Mingyu in grad school, through Seokmin â and your first memory of one another was at a horrible group interview for an internship that neither of you got. You stayed in touch following the months after graduation, only getting closer as Mingyu moved to your city a year after and needed friends to hang out with.Â
You were almost always one of those friends. If you couldnât make it, he still made it a point to swing by your place and bring you something from wherever it was that heâd gone. Sometimes it was a thick slice of chocolate cake, sometimes it was an entire baked potato that heâd ordered to-go so youâd have something for lunch the next day. Sometimes it was just a handful of butter mints heâd stolen from the register attendant along with a colorful toothpick.Â
Mingyu is just like that. Sweet and caring and he is a good man. A Good Man, even, with capital letters and capital claim on your heart.Â
You sigh, turning your phone off and leaving it on the counter as you limply serve yourself your dinner. The stew isnât as filling as it wouldâve been had Mingyu made it, but you donât let your mind linger on him too much as you eat on your couch and watch a YouTube video dissecting Pretty Little Liars.Â
Because thinking about Mingyu is bad for your heart. You canât close your eyes when you do it, either â or his body flashes in your mind, the sounds he makes when heâs got your hands pinned to the mattress, the way he calls you baby between kisses that make your skin feel like itâs on fire. You canât close your eyes without remembering the smell of his aftershave filling your nostrils, his fingers tugging at your clothes or the way he coos when you beg him to touch you anywhere.Â
Or...itâs worse, and you remember how good a boyfriend he would be. How good of a husband he would be â always having a spare change of shoes for you in his trunk for those times youâd go out to dinner or to hang out. Always offering his jacket, always holding your hand when you cross the street, always pulling you close when someone thinks itâs okay to get too comfortable with you. How he smooths a hand over your hair out of nervous habit as you worm through farmerâs markets and malls, how heâs easily thrown you over his shoulder several times when youâre throwing an embarrassing fit at a pub or a bar.Â
When he kisses you slowly, in his car that smells like him and you before you both get down. How he thumbs at your earrings when youâre sitting next to him at a restaurant or the movies, and his arm is draped over your shoulders. How he speaks to you softly and listens to you intently â actively interested in everything you have to say and what it means to you.Â
How he cares.Â
It has to be torture, being involved with Kim Mingyu the way you are.Â
But is it torture, at hands so gentle? Lips so soft, words so sweet, a heart so full?Â
You donât think so.Â
9:32 PM.Â
Youâd finished dinner hours ago, and your television was quietly playing some random Spotify playlist. The Kill by Thirty Seconds To Mars is filling your ears as you trill your lips dramatically and scroll on your work laptop, finalizing a presentation while sprawled across your couch. Â
Against your better judgment, youâd cleaned your apartment haphazardly and you took a long shower â but like any girl awaiting potential company, you put on yet another sweater and a skirt (that you dug out of the back of your closet; one that youâd caught Mingyu staring at you in ages ago.) Your pajamas laid neatly folded on your pillowcase, and you told yourself youâd get in bed by 9:45.Â
Itâs unlikely that Mingyu will come by. You checked his location ten minutes ago, and he was at his apartment â likely cuddled up in his bed with all six of his pillows. Mingyu rarely leaves the house after eight on weekdays, anyway...unless heâs seeing you.Â
The time barely ticks past 9:33 p.m. when you hear a soft knock at the door â making you jolt up so fast, you feel something pinch in your neck. You still â glimpsing at the time on your laptop before checking your phone for any potentially missed messages. Mingyu usually texts you if heâs actually coming over...so it canât be him.Â
No lights are on in your apartment but your stove one, so it only makes the atmosphere more tense. You stand up quietly and set your laptop down on your coffee table before hearing another knock â louder this time, the clink of metal on glass making you jump.Â
âY/N, open this damn door.â Â
Mingyuâs voice on the other side makes all fear in your body dissipate in favor of annoyance, and you make your way over; unlocking the door quickly and huffing as you open it. Heâs leaning coolly against the frame, holding a bouquet as usual â but you put your hands on your hips as you look up at him. Â
You hate the way your cheeks grow hot at his soft smile.Â
âItâs not Friday, Kim Mingyu.âÂ
âI can still bring you flowers, baby.âÂ
âBlah, blah, blah.â You make a face at him, opening the door further to let him in and turning on your heel â only to feel his arm wrap around your waist and gently pull your back into his chest. He smells like that same aftershave, your skin prickling as you glance up at him.Â
âIs that how you greet your guests?âÂ
âYouâre hardly a guest, Mingyu. Guests donât know where my silverware is.âÂ
âOr that you keep lube in your nightstand.â He whispers, squeezing your hip as you swat at his arm. You scowl at him as he presses a kiss on your forehead, âI told you I was coming.âÂ
âItâs damn near ten at night.âÂ
âSo? I can just stay over.âÂ
âYou just wanna fuck me.âÂ
âOr I miss you, baby.â He murmurs, pressing another kiss to your temple. âI miss you a lot, actually.âÂ
âBreaking news: Kim Mingyu admits he misses his dearest, smartest, prettiest friend ever. More at eleven.â You snort, letting him turn you around as he smiles. You let him fully wrap his arms around you, your nose filling with that damn aftershave as he smoothly picks you up; your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck as he kicks your door shut with a kiss to your cheek.Â
âKim Mingyu does,â he replies gently, and you feel shy as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek before kissing it again. Once, twice, three times. âI stopped by Chanâs, but he only had these and a few others. You like?âÂ
You can hardly see the flowers, and Mingyu seems to recognize that as he flicks on your dining room light. Warm yellow rays fill the area, your eyes blinking rapidly to adjust as you glance at the flowers between you. Large white daisies are mere centimeters from your face, and you stop yourself from smiling to raise a brow at him.Â
âThese are your birth flower.âÂ
âYouâre supposed to like everything about me, and that includes my birth flower.âÂ
You roll your eyes, thumbing at the petals as he presses another kiss to your jaw, âyeah, theyâre cute. I like.âÂ
âGood, because I fucked up and also ordered another one for next week when Iâm not going to see you, so youâll be getting this twice but as delivery. I might get another just to apologize but thatâs a quest for Later Mingyu.â He speaks against your cheek, pressing kiss after kiss on the warm skin, âmissed you, missed you, missed you.âÂ
âYouâre smothering me!â You whine, feeling him pepper the side of your face with kisses, âMingyu!âÂ
âYou complain I donât see you enough, and you complain when I do. Youâre never satisfied,â he jokes, carefully setting the flowers down on your dining room table to hold you closer. His hands are gripping your thighs, the material of your skirt straining against them as you press a kiss on the column of his throat, âthank you for the flowers.âÂ
He shivers, âyou always say thank you. Donât thank me for the bare minimum.âÂ
âI donât get you flowers, Mingyu.âÂ
âYou should start. I like flowers and being smothered and impromptu visits with at my apartment with my dearest, smartest, prettiest girl, Y/N.âÂ
You roll your eyes, ignoring the fluttering in your belly as you shake your head, âyouâre impossible, Kim Mingyu.âÂ
âYeah, well...you love me anyway.âÂ
âThatâs an incredible assumption.âÂ
âShut up.âÂ
âMake me.â You scoff, limply shoving his shoulder. He sucks his teeth, kicking his shoes off and clearly choosing to ignore your bait as he tightens his hold on your thighs, âwhat are you doing here, Mingyu? Youâre not making dinner, and you clearly donât have a plan in mind...so what do you want?âÂ
He raises a brow, âI want to see you. Ask about your day. Also, steal some of those almonds you have hidden in your nightstand, next to your lube.âÂ
âYou just want me for what I can provide.âÂ
âI want you for lots of things and lots of reasons, but what can you provide that I wonât willingly give you, anyway?âÂ
You can smell the mint on his breath, like heâd brushed his teeth before getting to your apartment. Your eyes trail him silently, taking in the soft fabric of his casual t-shirt against the inside of your knees. Your skirt is starting to ride up, snug against your midthighs as you click your tongue in defeat.Â
âExactly.â He says pointedly, squeezing your thigh as he flicks the dining room light off again, making you tighten your grip around him as he moves to turn on the lamp in your living room. He looks over your head at the television with an amused look, âare you sure youâre not sad or something? Whatâs with the ambiance?âÂ
âYou insist something is wrong with me, but I promise you,â you lamely hit the side of your closed fist to his chest, âI am fine.âÂ
He gives you a knowing look in the moody lighting, before leaning down slightly. He glances at your lips, silently begging for a kiss only for you to roll your eyes and do the same. He smiles shamelessly, kissing you gently before looking around once more.Â
âItâs so dark in here.âÂ
âI was just finishing stuff for work.âÂ
âWhat have I told you about working off the clock? Stop working for free, they pay you shit as it is.â He squeezes your thighs for emphasis, and you suck in a quick breath involuntarily. You scrunch your nose as he grins, before smacking his shoulder gently.Â
âYouâre the last person who can tell me that, youâre a workaholic. I see you twice a damn month because youâre always holed up in that office.â You shove a finger in his chest, only for him to press another kiss to your lips as you pout, âMingyu!âÂ
âYou are so annoying, baby.â He murmurs, nipping at your lips like he might die if he doesnât. âYou canât even appreciate that I took time out of my very busy schedule to come see you. And letâs not forget you love my job when it means you get to see me in a suit.âÂ
âIâm going to ignore that for the sake of my sanity. What is so important about having dinner and jerking off for an hour that you think youâre doing me a favor?âÂ
âI do not jerk off for an hour.â He scoffs, "I merely think about you for forty minutes and then IââÂ
âEnough. The point is that you do it. Like a loser. Youâll get carpal tunnel, you know.â You say with a sniff, your lips twitching as he laughs. He makes his way to your couch, sitting on the chaise at the end of it. He leans back into the cushions, smoothly adjusting you on his lap as he stuffs a throw pillow under his head to look at you. âTell me why youâre here, Mingyu.âÂ
âIf you need a reason, itâs that I genuinely missed you. If that wasnât already obvious.â He speaks sincerely, raking his fingers gently through your hair and earning a shiver. He tugs at it lightly, smirking as you let out a quipped whine before smacking his hip, âI just wanted to see you.âÂ
âYouâre holding me hostage against you, Mingyu.âÂ
âBecause youâll sit a mile away unless I do. Itâs like you avoid me.âÂ
âI donât avoid you, idiot. You just radiate so much heat that it makes me wanna die, I hate sweating.â You remind him, lowering yourself so youâre chest-to-chest with him, but propping yourself on your elbows to still hover over him. He plucks at the hem of your sweater, dipping his fingertips beneath the fabric; cool against your hip as he tilts his head, âthat is true.âÂ
âI know.âÂ
âCan you hurry up and say you missed me, too? Iâm starting to feel a disconnect.âÂ
You purse your lips as you hold back your laughter, his pouted lips making you cover your mouth as you swallow your cackle.Â
âI did, I missed you.â You admit wholeheartedly, shrugging your shoulders as he tugs at the necklace he gave you, âof course I missed my Mingyu.âÂ
âNot Park Mingyu from finance, right?â He sulks, tucking his chin to his chest as you chuckle, pinching his cheek between your knuckles carefully.Â
âNot Park Mingyu from finance, no. Donât you know? Iâd be bored in two days.âÂ
âExactly,â he huffs, wrapping his fingers gingerly around your throat, âcan I stay? Or do you want me to leave?âÂ
âItâs always nice when you stay over. However, youâre late for dinner and lack of punctuality does knock ten points off for Kim Mingyu. Still in first place, but youâre pushing it.âÂ
âIâm sorry,â he nods, squeezing the sides of your neck gently before his lips plant a soft kiss on your forehead, âshould we go to your room?âÂ
âThatâs incredibly suggestive, Mr. Kim.âÂ
âItâs only suggestive if you make it suggestive, baby.âÂ
âYou calling me baby only cements my point.âÂ
âOkay, maybe. But you could have some mercy on me.â He mumbles, pressing another kiss to your nose. You raise a brow, âare you sure youâre not the one who has a problem? Youâve been in my face since you got here, Iâm literally on top of you. The world wonât end if youâre not touching me, you know.âÂ
âIâm just used to having you close.â He shrugs, âI missed you.âÂ
âMingyu, youâve said that so much that the words donât even sound real anymore. Youâve been here for ten minutes and youâve said it six times.âÂ
âSo? Is there a problem?â He mumbles against your lips, your breath hitching as he bridges the gap. His hands move to your hips, fingertips digging into the fabric of your skirt as he sits up carefully. Your hands palm at his chest as he pulls you impossibly closer, your skin littering with goosebumps as he slides his hands down your thighs. Your own shoot out to grab his wrists, pulling his hands away and pinning them to the couch before pulling away with a soft pant. He tries to kiss your jaw, his lips brushing your skin as you crane your neck away.Â
âWhat on Earth has gotten into you? Did you finally give into those stupid honey packs that Soonyoung was talking about the last time we all hung out?âÂ
He scoffs, âabsolutely not. You know I like this skirt, donât play coy.âÂ
You snort, dropping his hands to cross your arms on your chest. His fingers trace tight circles into your left knee, before he glances at your sweater with an amused look. He leans back on one hand, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he raises a brow.Â
âYou knew I was coming.âÂ
âNo, I didnât.âÂ
âThen you were hoping I would, baby.âÂ
âShut up. Youâre supposed to be at home, and I should be in my bed right now.â You mutter, tonguing your cheek as you see your laptop turn off due to inactivity out of the corner of your eye. You glance back at him, his eyes trailing the slope of your neck as you clear your throat and run a hand through your hair, âhow was your day?âÂ
âFunny you should ask. Kim Mingyu has had his first official bad day at the office.â He nods, pressing his lips into a thin line that makes you bite back a laugh. âPeople are entitled, and I usually get through it pretty well, but today was just off the damn charts. I was late to work this morning, and I had to push back a presentation because I fucking lost my thumb drive because I left it at home. An intern tried to tell me my numbers were wrong, when I checked the math not once, but three separate times. We got into a nasty argument, also something new for me.âÂ
He shrugs, âI sent her home early and I left an hour after lunch. Bought groceries, made dinner...life goes on but today was actually such shit. So...itâs nice to see you.âÂ
âI think you forgot âtried to flirt with Y/Nâ somewhere in there. I think during the whole âbrought groceriesâ part.â You let your cheeks warm as you tilt your head at him, only to earn a devilish smile paired with a one-armed shrug as he taps your knee with his knuckle.Â
âI didnât try to do anything.â He leans back on his elbow, sucking his teeth as you raise a brow at him, âI was merely stating facts. Iâm nice to you, and youâre a pillow princess. One plus one has always been two, baby.âÂ
âYou are nice to me, thatâs true. But youâre the oneââÂ
âA lady like yourself mustnât get her hands dirty for pleasure. Thatâs what Iâm here for.âÂ
His eyes are pointed, and you conjure an annoyed look as you poke a finger into his side. He squeals, grabbing your wrists and pulling you down on top of him, âstop that. Tell me about your day.âÂ
âNothing happened.â You shrug, pushing yourself up. Your hands are on either side of his head as you stick your tongue out at him, only for him to do the same and touch the tip of yours with his. You scrunch your nose as he snorts, before calling your bluff.Â
âYouâre lying.âÂ
âHm...I broke my favorite pair of earrings. I tripped going up the stairs when I came back from getting lunch at that bistro we like in downtown. Park Mingyu from Finance asked me to dinner. Nothing insane.âÂ
Itâs not a lie.Â
But itâs been a few weeks since it happened. It was a rare day in the office for you, and youâd been in and out of meetings all mornings â but he caught you just as you got in the elevator to meet Soonyoung for lunch.Â
Park Mingyu wasnât bad looking, and he was nice enough. He just...worked in finance, of all things, and had that same monotonous voice most finance men do. He didnât slouch, but his tie was almost always haphazardly thrown on and youâd fixed it for him one time â but you figured one time was enough to get him hooked.Â
Kim Mingyu is looking up at you through his lashes, his hands seemingly now lost on what to do as he pulls them off your waist. His eyes are darting all over your face â likely looking for a hint at you kidding. A quirk of your lip, a twitch of your brow, something â but the silence between you only gets thicker as his jaw grows slightly tense.Â
â...did you give him an answer?âÂ
âNo. I said Iâd think about it.âÂ
Mingyu scoffs.Â
He actually scoffs, like how dare you have the audacity to tell someone else youâd think about giving them a positive answer to their dinner invitation? How dare you, when you know youâd likely not like your food? And then itâs awkward for weeks, before you get a paragraph to your work number about how Park Mingyu is such a nice guy â from Park Mingyu himself.Â
The man beneath you runs a hand through his hair, and you sit up to allow him to do the same. He does, unzipping his sweater and shrugging it off before he tosses it over the side of your couch.Â
You resist the urge to run your hands up his bare arms, cursing the way his shirt fits against his chest so snugly.Â
âWhen did he ask you? During lunch? Did you go to the office today?âÂ
âTwo weeks ago.âÂ
You shift slightly in his lap, your cheeks hot as he stares at you. Thereâs a mix of emotions in his gaze â confusion, amusement...a bit of anger, you want to think.Â
A bit of jealousy.Â
âAnd youâre telling me this now?âÂ
âI didnât think I had to tell you. Weâre not...dating.âÂ
The word comes out choked. You feel it; he hears it, and your legs tighten subconsciously around his thighs. He glances down at them, his eyes catching a faded bite on your inner thigh from two weeks ago; his thumb pushing the hem of your skirt up high enough to make it visible to your eyes, should you look down.Â
âAre you gonna say yes?â His voice is level, but heâs not looking at you. In the low light, you can see the tightness in his jaw, the way he tongues his cheek before you feel his fingers tap your thigh, âare you?âÂ
Your throat feels dry as you steal a glimpse of the flowers on your dining table.Â
âY/N.âÂ
You let out a forced chuckle, âcâmon, you know me, Gyu. Heâs in finance. I really would get bored in two days. A few hours, even.âÂ
He doesnât seem convinced, âthatâs not a no.âÂ
âWhat do you want me to say, Mingyu?â You run a hand down the front of your sweater nervously, bunching the fabric in your palm as he leans forward slightly. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, not managing to shake his focus like the action usually would.Â
âThat youâll say no.â He says plainly, before scoffing as a smile of disbelief crosses his lips. âIn fact, I donât even know why youâre entertaining the idea of it when we both know youâd never say yes unless something happened between us.âÂ
For a moment, you dislike Mingyu. Your eyes narrow as you look down at him, tracing his features as he clicks his tongue.Â
âWhat is this âusâ youâre referring to?â You speak softly, but clearly â splaying your hands on your knees as you lean into his space. âWhat do you mean by âus,â Mingyu? What does âusâ mean to you?âÂ
âYou and I.âÂ
âWhat about you and I?âÂ
His hand leaves your thigh, and he has the gall to roll his eyes as he runs it over his face.Â
âYouâd never say yes to Park, because you have me. You donât need anyone else.âÂ
âWhat makes you think I even need you?âÂ
âThe fact that you melt in my hands the moment I walk through that door.â Heâs in your face, his breath wafting against your lips as he maintains eye contact. âYou forget the world exists when Iâm with you, and itâs the only time Iâve ever seen you relax. You love having me around, and you love me. You donât have to say it for me to know.âÂ
You want to pretend that he canât feel the way you freeze on top of him. His eyes widen slightly as you swallow carefully, âlove...is a stretch, Kim.âÂ
âWe both know itâs not.âÂ
âYouâre insane.âÂ
âThen what does that make you, hm?â His hands are back on you, massaging the tension in your thighs that only makes your back rigid. A shiver snakes down your spine as his thumb brushes the cotton of your underwear, âwhat does that make you, baby?âÂ
âI hate it when you call me that,â you blurt, and he has an unimpressed look on his face when you double down, âI hate it, Mingyu.âÂ
âYet, you pout when I call you Y/N.âÂ
âWell, just call me Y/N anyway.âÂ
You huff, moving to get up but he holds you in place â his grip firm as he pulls you into him. Your chest hits his as you avoid his gaze, your arms stiff between your bodies as you give up on getting off him.Â
âStill wanna tell me nothingâs wrong?â He mumbles, his eyes soft as he wraps his arms around your waist. You donât reply, tonguing your cheek as you feel the stupid burn in your throat as you focus your line of sight on the flowers he put on the table.Â
Cute. Soft. Delicate.Â
An extension of him.Â
You swallow hard, blinking rapidly as you speak quietly, âwhat are we doing?â Â
He sighs, resting his forehead against your shoulder, âI donât know. I thought Iâd have an answer by now.âÂ
âYou donât know,â you repeat, âbecause you didnât want to ask me or because you thought Iâd ask first?âÂ
âBoth.âÂ
âCoward.âÂ
The word is bitter as it leaves your mouth, but you canât move. You donât want to move â the fear of him slipping through your fingers overpowering as your hands grip his shoulders like heâs going to disappear. He leans into your touch, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. He doesnât say anything, but you feel his lips brush against your skin as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers card through the hair at the nape of his neck, the smell of his shampoo making you melt into his embrace.Â
âTell me Iâm yours.â His voice is muffled against your neck, âplease. Please.âÂ
âI donât know if you are, Mingyu.â You canât recognize the sound of your own voice, thick and uncertain. His grip on you tightens, and you feel a shaky breath against your neck as you pull back, trying to meet his eyes. He stares at the necklace around the base of your throat, the seashell-shaped locket glinting in the light. Â
âI can be. I want to be.â Heâs barely speaking above a whisper as his fingertip taps the locket, hooking around the chain and giving a careful tug. âDo you know why I gave this to you?âÂ
You glance down at it, âbecause you were in Bali and it was on sale?âÂ
He snorts, the air around the two of you settling evenly on your shoulders, âno. Well, I was in Bali, but no it wasnât on sale and thatâs not why I got it.âÂ
âAll Iâm getting is that you went to Bali without me.âÂ
âYeah, well. I couldnât be around you in all those pretty dresses you wear when itâs hot out.â He sighs, âseashells are a symbol of love.âÂ
âDoesnât mean youâre in love with me.âÂ
He shrugs slightly, popping the shell open to reveal it empty, âitâs said that seashells are associated with Aphrodite, the goddess of love. That they represent the warmth and care and security of love, because they protect the pearl that grows inside that shell.â Â
He clears his throat, closing the locket with a click. Â
âThe point of the locket was to put a picture of us in there, someday. Itâs been six months since I gave this to you, and I think about it everyday.â He ducks his head like heâs afraid of the truth spilling from his mouth, but he canât stop talking. âSometimes, I think you were made for me, as stupid as that might sound. Like Eve was made for Adam, from his rib, or something like that.âÂ
You can feel your eyes burning as you watch him nibble on his lip, his hands restless as he moves them from around you to the hem of your skirt before gripping the cushion beneath you both.Â
âI donât know much about falling in love,â he admits, âbut...I know that you saved all the flowers I gave you, bits of them, even before we started doing whatever weâre doing. A part of me wants to believe that you saved them because you wanted to keep me around, even if it was just the flowers I gave you...because Iâve kept all the receipts from Chanâs shop when Iâve bought them. I always liked giving you flowers because you like them, but after the first time we kissed...it felt romantic and I just wanted to make your life even just a little brighter and, ugh, I donât know. Tell me Iâm ruining this and Iâll shut up.âÂ
You blink at him silently, shaking your head before sliding your hands down his arms, âhave I told you that you talk a lot?âÂ
âMany times.âÂ
âHave I ever told you to stop?âÂ
You raise a brow as you find his hand, slotting your fingers with his and curling them around his palm. His rings dig into your skin but you donât care, âcontinue, Mr. Kim.âÂ
âI hate when you call me that.âÂ
âI donât care.âÂ
âI know,â he rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are pink as you press your lips to them gingerly, âIâm not...itâs hard for me to make time for people. Youâve seen it, you know itâs true because Iâve only been able to get you in every couple weeks and trust me, itâs fucking torture. They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder but I truly cannot fathom ever wanting to be away from you. It makes my chest hurt when I wake up after seeing you and I have to leave.âÂ
âYou donât have to.â You shrug, âleave, I mean. You can stay. Forever, if you wanted to.âÂ
His chuckle is almost humorless, âIâd never get anything done.âÂ
You nod silently, tracing circles into the back of his hand with your thumb before you glance up at him. You let go of his hand to cradle his cheek carefully, watching the way he leans into your touch. His arm wraps around your waist again, pulling you down with him as he lays back against the cushions once more.Â
âSo...I can be yours. If you want me to be. If youâll have me, rather.â Â
You donât respond, chewing on your cheek while pinching his between your knuckles. A silence blankets over you both, even as he brushes a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. You scrunch it, before resting your head on his chest with a click of your tongue, feeling his hand push the hem of your shirt up â fingers drumming against the warm skin of your hip.Â
âEarlier, you said I needed context for Friday. Whatâs that about?âÂ
âMy parents are in town.â He blurts, and your eyes widen as you jerk away from him, âI wanted you to meet them.âÂ
You scan his face, your lips parting as you sit up. Your knees dig into his hips as you run a hand through your hair, letting out a chuckle of disbelief.Â
âSurely they donât know weâre in this entanglement.âÂ
â...They think weâre together.âÂ
âMingyu!â You choke on his name, earning a wince as you give his shoulder a slight shove. He pouts, grabbing your wrists and pulling you back on top of him, âwhy would you tell them that?! Why do they even know about me?!âÂ
âBecause I love you.â His voice makes you still, his eyes serious as he bores them into you. A wavering uncertainty is laced in them, mixed with that same pure adoration that he always held in even a wayward glance your way. Your hands curl into fists, your nails digging into your palm before he forces them open and interlaces your fingers. His thumbs trace circles on the back of your hands, nervously nibbling on his lip before he clears his throat.Â
âI love you, and Iâm a coward but I cannot imagine being without you. It makes my stomach hurt to think about it, it makes me nauseous when I think about someone else having you the way I do. Someone else bringing you flowers and making you dinner and kissing you stupid when they donât deserve you to begin with is an atrocious thing to think about. I love you, and I want to be your emergency contact. I want to make you dinner and rub your feet and I want to put a shiny ring on your finger. I want to listen to you sing in the shower, I want you to tell me itâs not a duet when I join in and I want to make good on any and every promise I ever let fall into you. I love you, and I want you, only. For the rest of our lives.âÂ
Your nose burns as tears prick at your eyes, and you tear your hands from his to dig the heels of your palms into your eyes â coating them in said hot tears. Your voice is thick, âGod, you suck.âÂ
âI just put my heart on a platter for you.âÂ
âThatâs exactly why you suck, because now I canât tell Park Mingyu Iâll have dinner with him.âÂ
Your joke is ill received as he scoffs, crossing his arms on his chest as you wipe at your face haphazardly before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. Your hands cradle his face gently, thumbs rubbing his cheeks back and forth as he sulks, âI love you, Mingyu.âÂ
âKim Mingyu.âÂ
âI love you, Kim Mingyu.âÂ
He lets you kiss him, uncrossing his arms and pulling you close. His fingers dip beneath your sweater, squeezing your hips as he teases his tongue into your mouth â minty and gentle as your hands move to tug at his shirt. He stops you by abruptly sitting up, cupping your ass as he stands from the couch. Your legs wrap around his waist as his lips trail your jaw, nipping at your neck as he takes you to your bedroom, nudging the door closed with his foot.Â
âWanna prove it?â Â
âNot a pillow princess, my ass.â Mingyuâs arm is tight around your waist, his hand holding your phone as your fingernails dig into his shoulders. âPretty girl gave up a minute in.âÂ
âIâm just used to a...certain lifestyle,â you whimper into his neck, before hearing the unmistakeable sound of a call dialing. You look over your shoulder wearily, watching Mingyu put the call on speaker. It picks up as he holds it to your face, pulling your head back gently by your hair, âtell him youâre having dinner with your in-laws.âÂ
âHello?âÂ
âH-Hey, sorry for c-calling so late,â you stutter, your eyes squeezing shut as Mingyuâs hips rock up into you slowly. âA-are you busy?âÂ
âNever too busy for you. Are you alright? You sound...choppy.âÂ
Mingyu gives a hard thrust then, a whine tearing from your throat as you attempt to cough, âsorry, Iâm g-good! I just w-wanted to let you know that I c-can't have dinner.âÂ
âOh...can I ask why? I mean, Iâve been pretty nice to you for as long as Iâve known you. Could warrant a date night.âÂ
âSheâs having dinner with her in-laws, bud. Tell him, baby.â Mingyu speaks clearly, an embarrassed moan falling from your lips as his grip on your waist tightens, âtell him.âÂ
âIâm having d-dinner with m-my in-laws...â You pant out, your lips brushing his neck as your hand blindly reached around to hang up on the Finance Guy rambling about how you led him on. Mingyu tosses your phone to the side as his hand snakes between you to cup one of your breasts in his hand, âyou might have to quit.âÂ
You nod breathlessly as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, âthey pay me shit anyway.âÂ
âNew position at my firm opened up.âÂ
âGod, shut up and fuck me.âÂ
He chuckles, flipping you onto your back smoothly and pressing a kiss to the side of your face.Â
âPillow. Princess.âÂ
âTHREE YEARS IS A LONG TIME WITH NO RING, MINGYU.âÂ
Mrs. Kimâs eyes are pointed as her son tongues his cheek, and you bite back your smile as you tip your wine glass towards your lips.Â
He had mentioned theyâd say something along these lines â of course, he only mentioned more details of the ârelationshipâ they knew on the car ride there. Everything in the storyline was essentially the same, if you ignored that Mingyu admitted heâd fallen head over heels in love with you after the first time you slept together and the two of you had only been officially in a relationship for the last thirty-six hours. Â
âY/N just started a new job, Mom. It wouldnât be wise to...take that step in this juncture of her career.â Heâs spitballing, and his sister nearly spits her wine out across the table as Mr. Kim snorts. âItâs true! Babe, tell them!âÂ
You fail at holding in your laughter, your shoulders shaking as you nod, âI did just get a new job. But I agree, three years is a long time without a ring.âÂ
âBabe.âÂ
âIâm just saying, you could put some pep in your step.âÂ
He sulks in his chair, barely sinking down two inches as everyone at the table bursts into fits of giggling, âIâm trying to take your life into consideration, too!âÂ
âTime is money, Mingyu.â You say, pinching his cheek between your knuckles. You lean over, pressing a soft kiss to the apple of his cheek â leaving a stamp of your lipstick on the skin as the waiter returns with the check. Mrs. Kim smiles as you reach for it instinctively, the grin only growing wider as Mingyu snatches it out of your hand and shoves his card inside the booklet before you can even protest.Â
âAt least tell me heâs taking good care of you.â Mrs. Kimâs voice is soft as you all step out of the restaurant, and you feel your cheeks heat in the cool November air as you nod.Â
âMingyu is a good man,â you start, patting his arm. He beams with pride, before sticking his tongue out at his sister that makes a gagging face. You snicker, squeezing his bicep gently, âif it were up to him, I wouldnât lift a finger.âÂ
âBut itâs not.â He sighs dramatically, âshe lets me make dinner and thatâs it.âÂ
âLet is the wrong word. He barges into my apartment with groceries and I feel bad for the guy,â you feign a pout, earning a scoff from your boyfriend as his parents share a warm look, âbut...I love him. What can I do, say no to a nice steak and a foot massage?âÂ
âYes.â Minseo pipes up, before Mingyu scowls. You snort, checking the time on your watch before his parents lean in to hug him good night. You try to stand to the side, but his sister pulls you into the familial embrace. Â
âWeâll catch up with you both in two weeks. Mingyu, get the girl a ring!â Mr. Kim gives your shoulder a soft pat, and Mrs. Kim slips something into Mingyuâs pocket. She tries to be discreet, but your eyes dart to her hand as she waves goodbye. You do the same, your face hot at the idea of marrying into such a loving family.Â
Mingyu slides his hand in his pocket as you both walk to his car, his eyes widening as he pulls it back out. Two rings glimmer in the moonlight, ones youâd complimented on his motherâs hand at the beginning of dinner.Â
âLittle soon for marriage, huh?â He thumbs at the diamonds, and you chew on your lip as you look at them. Your eyes flicker to his, a sparkle of excitement as you see him already looking at you. You clear your throat, holding your left hand up, âwell...we can just see if they fit.âÂ
âAnd if they do?âÂ
âThen I guess weâre engaged, oh boyfriend of three-years.âÂ
âI was nervous!âÂ
Your laughter rings out in the nearly empty parking lot, âwell, I love you, anyway. Three years or two days, you said forever and that youâd make good on that.âÂ
âI did say that.â His hands are gentle against yours, trembling slightly as he slides both rings on. They fit snugly at the base of your finger, and you wiggle them with a little smile on your face.Â
âWe can just be âengagedâ for like, two years. No one suspects anything then, wedding planning takes ages.âÂ
âOr we can get married in six months. I have contacts everywhere and thatâs when youâll have enough PTO accrued for a honeymoon.âÂ
âYouâre crazy.â You scoff, âcrazy and calculated, Kim Mingyu.âÂ
âCrazy in love with you, but sure.â He rolls his eyes, opening the passenger door for you. âMrs. Kim Y/N, in six months. Pencil me in, babe.âÂ
âIn your dreams.âÂ
Kim Mingyu is the love of your life.Â
Sweet, thoughtful, and delicate. Fragile, even: in ego, in sex, in love.Â
You know heâs made for you. Like Adam was made for Eve. He still shows up with a bouquet every week, but your kitchen is now shared and nicely stocked with your favorite bottles of wine.Â
Kim Mingyu is the petals of every flower in all the bouquets heâs ever given you. Velvety soft, perfectly cared for and beautiful.Â
And just as he is all those things â he is your Achillesâ heel. You can never say no to Kim Mingyu, but you can finally admit that he is something more to you..perhaps, everything. Â
Friend, lover, soulmate â all in one. A BOGO deal, youâd say, and heâd argue heâs at least a buy two, get one.Â
But, no matter what â Mingyu knows exactly who he is in your life, and you in his. Glued together at the hip, working together (though you get to boss him around and he never thought heâd be into that, a thought penciled in for much, much later when youâre both working âovertimeâ â read: his head between your thighs at your desk with your office door locked.)Â
Friends, lovers, soulmates â married (six months in, just like heâd said) and in love, two idiots held safely in the otherâs ribcage.Â
Mingyu becomes your boyfriend and quickly realizes 3 things about himself:
1. Heâs clingy.
2. Patience brings him nowhere.
3. He is not built for a long distance relationship.
mingyu x f!reader
wc: 2.2k
genre: fluff, suggestive, non-idol au, friends to lovers
content: (newly) established relationship, lots of kissing, making out, biting/hickeys, mentions of alcohol and food, terms of endearment (baby, babe, pretty girl, loverboy), some teasing/banter, they're kinda obsessed w each other, honeymoon phase but for ppl who aren't married yet, their friends are dramatic(?)
divider by hyuneskkami!
Patience has always been one of Mingyuâs best qualities.
It shows when his friends tease him endlessly about his habit of stumbling over his words, and his only reaction is to roll his eyes at them. It shows when his sister makes him get up at 5AM to queue for a special edition bag, and he only grumbles out a total of three complaints. It shows when his boss gives him a too short of a notice about a weeklong business trip, and all he can do is pack his luggage like itâs a race.
Thatâs why he desperately wishes it would show now, as he sneaks a glance at you from across the dinner table while Seungcheol holds him by the shoulderâbarraging him with things he missed due to said business trip.
Mingyu clinks his glass of soju against Seungcheolâs and downs it before his eyes find you again.
You, dressed in a top with delicate straps tied into even more delicate bows. You, with your hair in that effortless updo that he always liked. You, sipping your drink with your glossy lips in a soft rosy shade that drives him crazy.
Contrary to Seungcheolâs eager ramblings, the only thing Mingyu missed during his trip was you.
You and Mingyuâalong with your other friends Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Seungkwan, and Jihyoâhave known each other since your college days. However, things began to change a few months ago when you developed an interest in runningâsuddenly influenced by numerous tiktok videos. Mingyu had been excited when you first mentioned it in the group chat and deemed himself your new ârunning partnerâ since the two of you lived closest to each other.
Since then, your time together slowly extended into the dayâturning from a simple morning exercise to getting brunch together afterwards to spending the night at each otherâs apartment because âWeâre gonna go on a run tomorrow morning anyways. Might as well sleep over to save time.â
On one of those sleepover nights, Mingyu decided he's had enough. Something had shifted since you started spending more time togetherâcharged moments where gazes lingered longer than necessary and quiet nights that encouraged you to share a bigger piece of yourselves with each other.
Although you've been part of the same friend group for years, it was still uncommon for just the two of you to meet frequently like this. Despite everyoneâs busy schedules, the group chat managed to stay active and always made time to meet up.
It was normal for Mingyu to see you once a week or soâsometimes in a dirty T-shirt and mismatched socks for movie night at Wonwoo's, sometimes in coordinating outfits with Jihyo for dinner. And sometimes, heâd even play wingman to help you get a cute bartenderâs number.
It was, however, not normal to squeeze onto your small couch just so he could wake up to you in the mornings. It wasnât normal for him to run backwards so he could see the glow in your smile as the early sunlight shined on you. And it definitely wasnât normal for Mingyuâs heart to race whenever he caught his mind drifting to you at random times in the day.
So when he shows up to your place without his usual bag of running gear and dressed in loose sweats, you give him a questioning look. âRunning in sweatpants is definitely new for you.â
âNo, it's not that,â he inhales deeply, lingering by the door, âI wanted to tell you something.â
You freeze in your spot, nodding at him to continue.
"I really like you. I want to be more than a friend. I know this will change a lot of things for us but it was driving me crazy not being able to tell you how I feel," he says softly, inching closer to you. His eyes are rounded and full of affection as he takes your hands in his, "I love being with you and spending time with you. You feel it too, right?"
Your eyes well up with tears as your brain catches up with everything you just heard. If you were being honest, your newfound crush on Mingyu had been your biggest worry recently. Mingyu has always been a good friend, but being in close proximity to him and taken care of by him did stir all the butterflies in your stomach. You had spent countless nights staring at your ceiling, trying to make sense of your feelings, and gathering the courage to tell him.
You roll your lips between your teeth, attempting to hide your smile, "Was it because I kept staring at your chest and ass when we run?"
He throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh, "Well, I can't lie and say I wasn't doing the same thing."
Your smile spreads wider across your face, "Okay, let's call it even then."
Mingyu tugs your body towards his and wraps you in a firm hug. You lean into him, taking the warmth of his body in as he pats your hair tenderly.
"So are we still going on our run tomorrow or what?," you mumble against his chest.
âYou wouldnât happen to have some of my running clothes lying around, would ya?â
â
As it turns out, you did have an extra set of his clothes by your dresser. He did spend the night. You did go on that run together. And like always, Mingyu did buy you brunch afterwards.
But before he could even celebrate his first 24 hours as your boyfriend, an email from his boss showed upâan emergency request for his presence at a conference being held across the country. He had left your apartment begrudgingly as you kissed him goodbye and promised to wait for his call when he landed.
It has been exactly one week since then.
As soon as he landed back home, he had rushed to the restaurant where you were currently having dinner with the rest of your friends. Much to his disappointment, you had been caught in conversation with Seungkwan and Jihyo when he arrived, allowing Seungcheol to drag Mingyu into the seat between him and Wonwoo.
And that was an hour ago.
So if you ask Mingyu, heâd like to think heâs been patient enough. Patiently waiting to see you again, to have a moment with you, to make up the long seven days without you.
The sudden surge of emotions makes him restless. He slumps lower into his chair and shakes his legs, feeling miffed at the entire situation. There's no way Seungcheol has that much to update him on, right? And why have Seungkwan and Jihyo been hogging your attention all night? The last time he checked, you're his girlfriend, not theirs.
âKim Mingyu. Lighten up a little," Seungkwan chides, yanking him from his cloud of thoughts.
He scowls at Seungkwan then sighs, âIâm going to the restroom.â
Mingyu sends you a weak smile and mouths a discreet âmeet me thereâ before he pulls away from Seungcheol and heads to the restroom, patting cold water onto his face and neck.
When he steps out, he sees you waiting for him in the corner of the small corridor that leads back out to the dining area, tucking your lip gloss and compact mirror back into your bag.
A smile blooms on your face when you notice him.
âHi.â
Mingyu manages to rasp out a soft hey back before he presses his full weight into you, face buried in your hair and hands snaked around your waist.
You're surrounded by his body heat and the faint woody notes of cologne. Youâve been giddy all day thinking about seeing him again and the feeling of being in his hold after so long makes your stomach flip.
Mingyu finally pulls away to look at you. âMissed me?â
Your stomach does a second flip. He looks devastating. His hair is tousled against his forehead, eyes bright and glassy, small mole dotting his nose perfectly, and lips pulled into a slight pout.
Your hands tighten against his lower back as you interlock your fingers together and whisper against his lips, âSo much.â
Mingyu instantly leans forward to close the distance, slotting his lips against yours. His kiss is filled with so much fervor, as if he couldnât waste any more time not kissing you.
It takes you a second to react; youâve only kissed Mingyu a handful of times between the night you confessed to each other and him leaving for his work tripâall of which have been short and sweet.
But this kiss is heavy and passionate, his lips moving over yours with intense focus. Youâve never seen him this worked up before but itâs a new side of him that makes your skin tingle with anticipation.
Once you get out of your initial shock, you kiss him back with equal force, hands moving to roam across the broad stretch of his back muscles. You nibble playfully at his bottom lip before giving it a particular harsh suck. He sighs into your mouth as you soothe your tongue over the seam of his lips.
Mingyu reluctantly pulls away first, âI missed you so bad. So so bad.â
You can feel his rough hands absentmindedly toy with the hem of your top, fingertips pressing into your skin.
Your chest heaves against his as you beam up at him, âI can tell.â
Mingyu swears your eyes twinkled when you smiled at him and he has to take a few deep breaths to steady himself. His eyes lazily trace the shape of your lips before coming back to hold your gaze.
âThis lip gloss shade is killing me,â he says, tongue darting out to lightly lick at your lips.
Mingyu can only stare as you reach up to thumb away your smudged lipgloss by the corner of his lips and chin. His vision is a little hazy but he manages to focus on your lips. The rosy tint has lost most of its shine and color by now, replaced by a soft kiss-swollen hue (Mingyu has half a mind to boast about him being the cause of it) but itâs still pulling him in with the exact same force it did when he first arrived.
âBaby, please,â he swallows hard, but his voice comes out in a dry whisper, âLast one, I promise.â
He ducks his head to capture your lips in another heated kiss. His hands alternate between your waist and ass, only pausing to knead the plump flesh of your hips once in a while.
You pull away from him, trying to catch your breath. âHow was your flight back?â
âYouâre asking all the wrong questions.â
He leans in, attempting another kiss but you dodge his lips as your hand comes up to cover them.
Your smirk is playful as you say, âI thought you said that was the last one.â
"I take it back," he muffles into your hand before licking it, causing you to yelp and clutch his shirt.
He cups your face firmly and tilts your head towards him, âYouâre so beautiful.â Then a wet kiss on your jaw.
"My pretty girl.â A gentle bite onto the side of your neck.
He trails light kisses down your throat and makes his way to the dip by your collarbone. You canât help but let out soft moans at the sensation as Mingyu continues to suck slowly at the spot.
His lips travel to the curve of your shoulder, where his fingers start to fiddle with the thin ends of your tie straps.
He pulls at it teasingly before letting out a choked laugh, âHow functional is this?â
âItâs cute,â you whine in defense.
You lightly pinch his sides to get his attention before you pull him into a kiss of your own, swiping your tongue against his. Your hands move in between your bodies, one pressed against his chest while the other cups his neck. This time, itâs your turn to suck and lick at it as he groans. You pick a spot right in the middle, just below his adamâs apple and continue to nip lightly.
âBaby,â he warns with low moan.
You hum a distracted response, pressing quick pecks all over his cheeks with a final kiss placed on top of his heart through his shirt.
He slumps against you, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. You can hear his breathing slowly move from a pant to a steady rhythm.
You gently card your fingers through his hair and press your nose into his temple. âYou okay?â
His sigh turns into a dry laugh, âBabe. Whatever happens, letâs never do long distance. Look at what one week apart does to us.â
âThatâs just because youâre clingy. I was fine.â
He shifts to narrow his eyes up at you, âI must've kissed you so good, your memories ended up getting jumbled.â
Your cheeks redden, as you giggle and lightly shove him away. âWhatever you say, loverboy. We should head back now.â
He grins as he follows you back to your table, in a much lighter mood than before. Wonwoo eyes him carefully as he settles back into his seat and nods at Seungcheol to take a look. Mingyu manages to stuff a piece of pork belly into his mouth before Seungcheol knocks his chopsticks out of his hands and grabs his collar to inspect his neck.
âBro.â
Before Mingyu can even respond, the entire table's attention is drawn by Seungkwan who has his hands around your neck, as he shrieks, "What is that?!"
a/n: happy mingyu day week! :) let's pretend this was posted on time...
Mingyu doesn't want to pay you any mind. To him, you're just another girl that'll get her heart broken by his dumb best friend.
Why would he care, right? He shouldn't care about the crying sounds he hears from his bedroom when his friend stands you up for the girl he's actually in love with. And he shouldn't be getting close to you. He shouldn't dread the day his friend decides to end things with you and bring someone else home. He shouldn't be wishing to have met you first.
pairing: mingyu x f!reader (with a side of bad bf!jungkook)
word count: 30,2k (lmaooo)
genre: bf's best friend mingyu, (awkward) acquaintances to lovers, the other side of the f2l trope, angst, smut, you could say there's a drizzle of fluff
content warnings: emotional cheating, tsundere mingyu at first, too much crying, self-manipulating, moral dilemmas, jealousy, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, denial (tons), one minor injury, mention of blood, a love triangle?, sexual tension, inappropriate things happen between mc and mingyu, petnames: babe, baby, princess (hers) | explicit smut, teasing, body worship, praise, marking, protected penetration, it's love making guys
đ§: mine â ive, breathing â nct dream, knew you â kailee morgue, begin again (taylor's version) â taylor swift, i wanna tell u â lexie liu
a big thank you to tiya @gyubakeries and ro @shinysobi for reading this over and telling me it doesn't suck ⥠and rae @nerdycheol for supporting my simp and pathetic men agenda âĄ
THIS FIC IS FOR +18 READERS ONLY! I can't control what people read, but I can control who interacts with my blog. MINORS CAUGHT INTERACTING WILL BE BLOCKED.
disclaimer: i didn't want to make any svt member the asshole so i made him jungkook, but i love jungkook he's literally my bias in bts and my forever ult so please just remember that this is a work of fiction and it doesn't represent how he is in real life nor how i view him (it pained me writing him this way you have no idea kdjfgnrjeskgf). i also didn't proofread the last two scenes iÂżm sawrry
last note: there are several pov switches throughout the whole fic, because it just went where it wanted, I had no control over it, it was the fic i swear.
check out my main masterlist ⥠dividers used: heartbeat, paper texture (banner)
i hope you enjoy! i'd love to read your thoughts :)
âAre you sure I wonât bother him?"Â
Youâve blocked Jungkookâs hand from opening the door to his shared apartment, forcing him to look at your pleading eyes.Â
âBabe, itâs not the first time youâve come to watch a movie, he doesnât mind, stop worrying.âÂ
âItâs just... he always locks himself up in his room when I come over. Maybe he doesnât want to get to know me.â You whisper, in fear the door doesnât muffle the sounds from outside and heâs standing just by the entrance.Â
The few times youâve crossed paths with your boyfriendâs roommate, he barely said hi before sprinting out of whatever room you were in. Sure, your relationship with Jungkook is fairly new, and you donât expect to become friendly with his circle of friends so quickly. But if his closest friend wonât pay you any mind then how are you supposed to get along?Â
âHe does that to give us privacy, I promise it has nothing to do with you.â Jungkook doesnât notice the coldness you're sure his friend exhibits towards you, as he has been that way every time he brought a new girl to their home. Jungkook attributes it to his friend simply giving him some space, to not make everything awkward by being the third wheel. âHe wanted to watch a movie, and he said it was cool when I told him you were coming over.âÂ
A deep breath leaves your lungs at his confirmation, even if itâs already the tenth time youâve asked the same question and got the same answer.
Inside the apartment, Mingyu sits manspreading on the couch, phone in his hand and headphones at the maximum not-deafening volume. Jungkookâs still in his fairytale phase, that time at the beginning of a relationship when he still tries to introduce his new partner to aspects of his life, in which Mingyu is included. Thatâs the only reason he accepted his friendâs insistent plea to hang out with you both tonight. And when a hand shakes his shoulder lightly, he knows itâs his Jungkook with his new catch of the semester.Â
You sit on the other end of the couch, as far as possible from Mingyuâs motionless body, still unsure on where you stand with him. Neither of you make the effort to talk to the other while Jungkook goes to his bedroom to change. You donât want to bother him and make him have a reason to dislike you, and Mingyu notices your nervousness, but prefers not to do anything about it.Â
Mingyu has learned to not try hard to get to know Jungkookâs fleeting girlfriends, because no matter how nice or how pretty you are, in a matter of weeks, he knows his friend will find something to complain about and eventually use as an excuse to break things off. Itâs a never-ending cycle, and he learned he canât do anything to stop it.Â
âWhat are we watching?âÂ
Jungkookâs loud voice breaks the ice beginning to build up in the living room, and quickly sits down between Mingyu and you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He doesnât seem to notice the ignoring contest going on, chatting with Mingyu like the other man wasnât just dead silent.Â
After discovering youâve never seen Rocky, a few gasps from Jungkook and a lot of convincing later, the movie starts playing on the screen in front of you. You didnât actually care what they chose, just happy to spend some time with your boyfriend, even if youâre not alone.Â
Mingyu knows the movie from beginning to end and backwards, could even recite the dialogues if asked, not because he particularly likes it, but because Jungkook somehow always convinces the girls he brings to their home to endure it.Â
He used to argue with him about the reputation he built of being a heartbreaker, but Jungkook doesnât see it that way. To him, heâs just trying to find the one in an endless quest that never fulfills him the way he thinks a relationship should. But Mingyu knows Jungkook well, and the real reason why he canât last in a relationship for longer than a few months is clear as day, but Jungkookâs blind to it.Â
You pretend to focus on the storyline, Rockyâs growth journey that Jungkook was so excited about, while he comments on his favorite parts. Itâs not a movie youâd pick if you were alone or with your friends, too manly for your taste, and the romance aspect is too shallow, but Jungkookâs perspective and insightful comments are making you appreciate it more.Â
Tears begin forming on the corners of your eyes as the final fight progresses, your throat closing up in warning as the rounds pass and Rocky gets beaten up by his opponent. No matter the genre, movies always make you cry during the final act as the protagonist reaches the goal after struggling so much.
After the referee separates both opponents, tying at the 14th round, the public demands a rematch, but Rockyâs more preoccupied to look for the woman he loves. You try to sniffle quietly, no longer being able to put a stop to your weeping, and snuggle against Jungkookâs chest, just as his phone rings, receiving a call from Cathlyn.Â
From the corner of his eye, Mingyu notices the whole interaction, and he almost gets shocked by Jungkook blankly rejecting the call in an instant and putting his attention back on the screen. How didnât Jungkook notice youâve been loudly sobbing for the past fifteen minutes is beyond him. But the shock lasts less than two seconds, as Jungkook's phone rings again and he gets up from the couch, heading to the kitchen with his phone in his hand and his thumb already opening Cathlynâs text conversation.
You know Cathlyn has been your boyfriendâs best friend since high-school, and became inseparable since then. You even came to meet her a few times. Sheâs funny, nice and outgoing, effortlessly being the center of attention.
The living room gets cold again after Jungkook goes to the other room, and itâs too obvious that Mingyu just doesnât have any interest in engaging in small talk with you. Your last sniffles echo against the walls, and the sigh Mingyu lets out almost sounds louder in the sea of dense silence.Â
Another sniffle from you and a tired sigh from him, Mingyu gets up to go after his friend who doesnât seem to be coming back to the couch soon enough. He leaves a pack of tissues in front of you without sparing you a glance, and just walks past the couch.Â
"Dude, donât just leave me alone with her.â You donât mean to eavesdrop on their conversation. You really donât. But the sound carries. And it just proves that Mingyu clearly doesnât like you. âSheâs your date, not mine.âÂ
âSorry bro, Cathy was calling me nonstop. I thought something had happened.â Not necessarily true, as she called only once and Mingyu's aware of it. âShe wants to go out tonight, clear her head a bit.âÂ
âI donât care what Cathlyn wants. Your girlfriend was crying and you just left her there.â Itâs almost like he was defending you, but something in his tone suggests that it isnât about you specifically. You blow your nose one more time, and the sound echoes into the kitchen. âListen, sheâs still crying like a baby, go with her bro.âÂ
Last words you hear before heavy steps begin and get closer and closer to the living room couch until the man sits by your side.Â
âSorry babe, I know movies always get you emotional.â Jungkook apologizes sweetly, even if thereâs something else in his mind.Â
âItâs okay.â The sun setting behind the windows draws your attention away from your boyfriend. âI should get going. Itâs getting late and I promised my roommate weâd go out for dinner.âÂ
Lame excuse, but youâre aware youâre not wanted at the apartment anymore by half the people living under that roof, and it really is too late.Â
Jungkook nods, unbeknownst to the uncomfortable situation he's a part of, and grabs your coat as you get up from the couch. You turn back, smiling to Mingyu coming out of the kitchen as a form of goodbye, but he just nods and sits back down.Â
âWe're going out later, and Cathyâs paying, you wanna come? Itâs a bar close to here.â Jungkook naively asks as he walks you to the door. He might be genuine with his invitation, but youâre not sure.Â
âI told you I have an important meeting for the congress tomorrow morning, I can't go out."Â
Jungkook hasnât proven himself as someone with the best memory out there. Youâve had to remind him of important stuff a few times already. The key is to just take a deep breath and not let it stir up any anger within you, because thatâs just how he is.Â
âOh, I thought it was on Sunday.â Jungkook asks just as Mingyu walks past the end of the hallway into his bedroom and shuts the door.Â
Even he knows about your meeting, because you told Jungkook last time you were there, and even if he locks himself up in his room, the walls might as well be made of paper the way he can always hear your conversations.Â
âTomorrow is Sunday.â You note as you chuckle lightly.Â
âOh, shit. Then I guess Iâll see you when you're done.â He gives you a sweet kiss for the first time in the day, light and fleeting like a feather, and closes the door after you take a few steps towards the elevator.Â
Nayeon closes her macbook suddenly, done with all the work you have been doing since the early morning, ready to take a deserved break. âSo? How was the hot date last night?â She rests her chin on the palm of her hand, ready for whatever gossip youâre willing to share.
âIt wasn't hot.â Your eyes donât leave your notebook, in an intent to work on ideas to make the presentation more interesting.Â
âYouâre so secretive! Câmon, tell your best friends forever and ever what you did!â She insists, making you chuckle as you see your other friend mirroring her from the corner of your eye.
Your pen drops from your hand onto the table as you finally look at them. âIt was just a movie night with his asshole roommate.â
âThe hot one?â Jennie intercepts, now more interested than before.
âI don't know Jen, his only roommate.â You try to go back to your notes but your friendsâ unrelenting stares make it impossible to concentrate. âAnd how do you even know him? Iâd never seen him before meeting Jungkook.â
âItâs âcause youâre too cool for campus gossip,â Jennie takes the chance to poke fun at your lack of knowledge of basically anyone, âbut everyone knows Jungkook and Mingyu.â They both giggle at their mention.
âBe serious, we're not in high school.â You deadpan, but deep down you know nothing really changes from high-school to college. The drama remains the same, just with a few years added to the people involved. âThereâs no such thing as the popular guys.â
When you were younger, the different cliques that formed were crucial to what the experience was going to be for the years to come. And you used to live for the gossip. You always knew the latest fight or the newest couple before anyone else. It felt important at that time and it kept you entertained. But as you grew older, got into college and met new people, meaningless gossip lost its interest, your focus now on passing your classes, meeting new friends, and having the best contacts to move forward with your career.
Sure, you knew of a Jungkook, as your best friends are up to date with the gossip and like it or not, you end up hearing everything even if you donât know the people theyâre talking about. But before he approached you at a party, you had no real idea who he was. Itâs true that when you first saw your boyfriend at that party, he caught your attention immediately, and itâs undeniable that if you had seen him before, you wouldâve been caught in his spell like every other girl on campus.
âWhat I mean is that people take notice when two hot guys hang out everyday.â Nayeon points it out like itâs the most common thing in the world. And maybe it is. âTheyâre like candy to the eye, too sweet, unapproachable, but nice to see nevertheless.â
You donât forget to roll your eyes before replying. âMingyuâs still an asshole. He never talks to me! Iâm sure he curses at me in his head every time I show up at their apartment.â
âHe seems so serious all the time.â Nayeon adds, having your back. âHeâs probably a stem major or something like that.â
âHeâs always hunched over his computer, so he probably is.â You note, eyes returning to your notebook so you can keep working on the presentation and be done with the topic.
âI once tried talking to him at a party, but he just looked me dead in the eye and said he wasnât interested.â Jennieâs stare gets lost to the view out the window as she remembers. âI barely told him my name.â
Nayeon and you exchange looks before erupting into laughter.
âYou guys are so mean!â Jennie complains, but joins to laugh with you two.
âHey, at least he had the decency to tell you that and not lead you on.â Jennie shrugs, not really hurt as she has already forgotten that cursed interaction. âHe barely says hi to me before sprinting out of my sight.â
âHe doesnât really talk to many people except that group of friends they have. Itâs not personal, he's just a little anti-social.â Nayeon puts her two cents in. âJust let him be an asshole if he wants to be one!â
âI shouldnât let him occupy that much space in my mind.â You nod at them and they both nod back in agreement. âIâm dating his best friend, heâs going to have to accept it.â
Nayeon and Jennie exchange looks, raising their eyebrows at your words before going back to you.
You have a vague idea what they meant by that, but you still ask, incredulously. âWhat?â
âNothing!â They say in unison.
They tried several times to enlighten you about Jungkookâs âreputationâ, as they called it, but you prefer to get to know him on your own and not have your judgement clouded beforehand. Rumors are just that, rumors.
âLook,â with your hands slapped on the table, you order their attention, âI know you guys donât really like that Iâm dating him,â you observe, âbut I promise, Itâs fine! Heâs really nice and I think he really likes me.â
âItâs not that.â Jennie says at the same time as Nayeon exclaims, âIâm sure he does!â
âWe already told you, he usually dates for a few months before breaking up all of the sudden.â Jennie continues, paraphrasing every warning they already gave you. âWeâll have your back with whatever you want to do, just be careful.â
âI wonât let a tattooed man who I've only been dating for a couple of weeks break my heart.â At least you think you're stronger than that.
âAm I an asshole if I tell you to just not get your hopes up?â Nayeon asks, and if it was any other person, you'd get mad, but only because it's her and she just lacks tact sometimes, you let it slide.
âYes! You are!â You chuckle, knowing sheâs just looking out for you. âThank you guys for worrying about me. Now, I think we should shorten the introduction a little bit. Everyone there already knows who Durkheim is, we don't need to explain his whole biography.â
The notes you've been taking all day stare back at you, now more of a bunch of senseless scribbles than useful annotations.
âUgh! Back to work already?â Jennieâs body falls limp on her chair, not ready for more hours of brainstorming and not reaching any goals.
âThe professor wants to hear the whole thing tomorrow, we can't show up with anything less than a perfect speech.â You insist, opening Nayeon's macbook again against her will.
âDo you promise to tell us any good gossip about those friends of his, in aboutâŠâ she looks at her empty wrist, pretending there's a watch there, âtwo hours? We'll work diligently until then.â
A deep sigh leaves you with a barely there smile you try to hide. âFine. Two hours, and then we can take a real break.â
The waitress carries two pieces of cake and the biggest strawberry smoothie youâve ever seen in your life, heading to your table. The size of the cup brings out chuckles from both Jungkook and you, but as soon as it gets placed between you on the table, the two straws draw your attention, and Jungkook asks the waitress for another smaller chocolate smoothie.Â
âYou can have that all for yourself babe, I know how much you love strawberries.âÂ
You donât admit that you were excited for the corny romantic moment of sharing a smoothie with two straws, appreciating that he at least remembered your love for berries.Â
Jungkookâs phone keeps vibrating with notifications, which he reads but doesnât respond to, trying his best to focus on whatever youâre telling him. His mind is anywhere but the diner where you decided to have an afternoon snack, battling between answering Cathlynâs worrying texts and listening to the ideas you gave for the presentation youâre doing with your friends in front of various colleges soon.Â
In the middle of your story is when you realize Jungkook hasnât said a word, his eyes lost to the much more interesting brown swirls on the wooden table.Â
âIs everything okay?â Heâs been noticeably distracted lately, getting lost in thought more often, taking longer to reply to your texts. You attribute it to the time of the year, as heâs busier at work and with his studies, and so are you. But even if he says heâs fine, youâre beginning to worry.Â
âYeah babe, sorry, just a little tired.â His lips line up in a tight smile in an attempt to reassure you. âDo you mind hanging out at my apartment after weâre done eating?âÂ
Scraping your plans to catch an afternoon movie, you hum and nod before returning to eating your piece of cake, seemingly disguising your disappointment since he doesnât ask any more questions.Â
Jungkook leaves his plate exactly the way the server left it for him, the piece of chocolate cake with not even a particle less, his fork unused and clean on the side. He gulps down his new personal smoothie in a second, and as soon as the last piece of your cake is entering your mouth, heâs asking the waitress for the bill. He knows youâre still talking to him, he can see your lips moving, but your words enter one ear and leave through the other, having no meaning in his mind.Â
Jungkook pays without asking for your share, which you werenât even going to argue with him about. Youâre usually a heavy supporter of each person paying for what they ordered, but as the minutes pass by, itâs becoming harder and harder to not get mad at him, so youâre going to spend his money without feeling bad about it. You know you should ask him about it, but shouldnât he tell you if something was wrong? Especially after youâve already asked him? Between being a pushover and pretending nothingâs happening, you end up choosing to just spend the rest of the afternoon with him and hope heâll just tell you the truth.Â
The walk to his apartment is less than 10 minutes long, but every dreaded step drags heavily, making everything move slower, with the both of you in silence, and the incessant notifications blowing up his phone acting as a remainder of his true priority.Â
Jungkookâs trying to ignore the constant ping coming out of the pocket of his jeans, pretending he isnât dying to just answer who keeps trying to contact him.Â
And you have a vague idea of who it could possibly be.Â
The cold apartment doesnât feel welcoming as you enter through the door, lights off and deadly silent. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you tiptoe around as if in fear. Your reflection in the mirror looks unmistakably disappointed and sad, and you wonder if Jungkook really didnât notice or just didnât care.Â
He can be charming and gentle when he wants to, always so polite and respectful, but the ability to be aware of your feelings may be something he could work on. Or at least understand that the things he does ultimately affect you too.Â
In the kitchen, heâs already forgotten his one rule for the date, and is carefully answering every message he got, the glasses of water he was filling for the both of you forgotten on the counter.Â
When he hears you come out to the living room, Jungkook rushes to sit with you, with a plan already in mind.Â
âBabe, will you get mad if I go for a bit?â His fingers trace lines on your forearm, and you begin to lean into him before your brain registers his words.Â
âWhat? Why?â You ask as your eyes search for any type of clue on his face.
âCathy called me,â he takes a second to think about the best words to use, âshe had a fight with her boyfriend, and I have to be there for her.âÂ
Jungkook never liked Cathlyn's boyfriends. Something about them always feels off about them, as if none of them are ever right for his best friend. In his eyes, he just wants the best for her, someone who'll really be able to care for Cathlyn in the way he thinks she deserves.Â
âOh, I hope sheâs okay.â Deep down, you wonder if it really is so serious that Jungkook feels obligated to stand you up. But itâs fair, she needs her best friend when sheâs having a bad time. The fact that her best friend is your boyfriend is a coincidence you canât be mad about.Â
âIâll be back before dinner and Iâll make it up to you, okay?â Heâs already standing up, his arms on both of your sides as he crouches to give you a quick peck goodbye.Â
The door closes shut before you can even utter a reply, and his steps echo on the hallway, getting further away every second, until youâre left in complete silence.Â
In the quietness of the apartment, you instantly feel out of place, unwelcomed by the inanimate objects surrounding you. Seconds turn into minutes, the ticking of the clock being the only sense of time you have left. You donât want to grab your phone, avoiding the inevitable feeling of disappointment thatâll take over you if there are no texts from Jungkook waiting in your notifications.
How stupid is what youâre doing? How desperate? Waiting for your boyfriend to come back from the home of the woman that seems to be his priority? You know you shouldnât be feeling this way, especially since he's already told you that sheâs just his best friend. But itâs still hard.Â
The back of your eyes burn as tears threaten to come out, blurring your vision just as you hear a key turn, heavy steps entering the home youâre not supposed to be in.Â
 â  â  â â â  â â â  â
Mingyu knew he'd find you at his apartment. Â
Jungkook texted him that he had an emergency and had to leave in a rush. And Mingyu knows what âemergencyâ really means in that context. It means Jungkook rushed over to Cathlyn's at the first sign that she was feeling off, and he wanted to hide it from him so he wouldnât have to hear the same reprimand again.Â
What Mingyu didnât expect was to find you on the verge of crying on his couch, scattering to find any form of tissue paper somewhere inside your bag.Â
You both freeze, looking at each other for about half a second before rushing to greet. You pretend you werenât crying, and he acts as if he didnât notice. Mingyu utters a quiet hello as you mumble some kind of apology for being there, and then he locks up in his bedroom as usual.Â
His friend put him in an awkward situation once again. Mingyu doesnât want to get to know you more than he already does. He knows you're on a different major and thatâs enough, because one day, in the near future, itâs going to be another girl walking through the door instead of you, and heâll never see you again.
He tried a few times to stay friendly, but no one really wants to stay in contact with someone so close to the man that broke their heart. And he gets it. That's why he stopped trying all together.Â
Mingyu would usually come home from work, put on his headphones, and spend a few hours on his computer until his stomach urges him to eat something. But for this particular afternoon heâs been put in, he skips the headphones in case you need something, or at least until Jungkook comes back, which he isnât even sure is going to happen.Â
A project for work distracts him for a good while, organizing different stats and numbers on the excel sheet his boss sent him earlier in the day. He almost forgets youâre on the other side of the wall. Almost.Â
If he loses his focus on his computer screen, he can hear when you move around on the couch. What can you possibly be doing? Is what he asks himself at any noise that reaches his ears, but thereâs never an answer. Until something alerts him that youâre not doing well. The same sniffle he heard days ago as you were watching a movie with Jungkook echoes against the walls of his bedroom.
Youâve been trying hard not to make any sounds that may disturb Mingyu, as you assumed he was busy by the way you could hear the non-stop clicking of his keyboard from where you were sitting. But your mind seemed to have other plans, so much so that you lost control of the cascade of tears brimming from your eyes.Â
In between everything, you miss the sound of a door opening and steps getting closer to you. Mingyu comes into view as youâre wiping away tears with the back of your hand, and you canât pretend he didnât see you this time.Â
He sits by your side in silence, mainly because he doesnât know what to say, but also because he canât just leave you alone in this state. He feels responsible in a way.
âIs he withâŠâ Are the first words that come out of his mouth after seconds of dead silence.Â
âHe didnât tell you?â You look up at him to find him staring into the wall. He shakes his head, glancing at your slightly blotchy face before looking down.Â
âHe just told me you'd be here, but I figured.â Your body relaxes the tiniest bit. Good, at least youâre not an unannounced guest.Â
âShe had a fight with her boyfriend.â You explain, more frustrated than understanding.Â
âRight.â He simply replies.Â
Both of you sit there, fixed on your spots, too aware of the other. Mingyu realizes youâve stopped crying, maybe because you donât want to cry in front of him, but at least your breaths became less deep than before.Â
A growl from your stomach reverberates through the room, and you flush in embarrassment.Â
âYou canââ he coughs before continuing, âyouâre here often, you can help yourself if youâre hungry, itâs no big deal.âÂ
âOh, thank you,â you chuckle, trying to conceal the humiliation, âbut he said he didnât have anything. Thatâs why we went out. And I canât really cook, so.âÂ
Never in the past weeks would you have thought youâd be sharing embarrassing details about you with your boyfriendâs cold roommate, but life has a funny way of turning things around.Â
âIâm sure thatâs not true. Thereâs no way you canât do the basics.â His body turns, now facing you as he takes an interest in your not so fun fact.Â
âIâm not lying! I canât even make scrambled eggs.â You hide your face behind your hands, and you immediately hear Mingyu laughing as the dent beside you on the couch disappears.Â
âCâmon, Iâll teach you. I happen to be a great cook.â Your stomach growls again, and Mingyu looks back at you as he walks towards his kitchen, leaving you no choice but to follow him.Â
Mingyuâs not thinking about this exchange with you too much.
Yes, heâs doing exactly what he promised himself he wouldnât, as this will inevitably make you both closer and he will not be able to turn back to his cold self again. But he couldnât just go on with his day knowing you were having a bad one, and even worse, knowing you were crying because of his friend.
He had to do something, and if that something is becoming your friend for the afternoon, then so be it.
âGrab the egg carton with his name on it.â You chuckle as you follow his instructions, âand his milk too, why not.â If he left you stranded, the least you can do to get back at him is use his stuff and not Mingyuâs.Â
Between laughs and Mingyu indicating instructions like he was teaching a 5-year-old to cook, time passes, you forget why you were at the apartment in the first place, and you end up with a fine plate of scrambled eggs that doesn't taste bad at all.Â
âI told you it wasnât that hard.â Mingyu sits in front of you on the rounded table as you share the food.Â
âWell, Iâll let you know if your teaching lasts until I have to cook alone.â You chuckle and avoid his stare, realizing your words sounded much friendlier than you intended.Â
Back in the living room, Mingyuâs ringtone disrupts your conversation, and his sigh alerts you that he might already know whoâs calling. He gets up with another sigh, throwing you a knowing look before going to answer Jungkookâs call.Â
You appreciate his effort to make you feel better, and when he doesnât ask Jungkook any questions over the phone, only replying with yeahs and okays to whatever heâs telling him, you understand that Jungkookâs not coming back, and whatever heâs telling Mingyu will just make you feel worse.Â
Before Mingyu comes back, you do the dishes that you used and get your stuff together. The decision to leave has already been made.Â
âLeaving already?â He appears at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning on the edge of the door like a statue.Â
âI know heâs not coming back. Iâm sorry, I shouldâve left earlier, I didnât mean to be a bother.â Itâs the first time youâve addressed that feeling you have that you constantly bother him, and itâs kind of freeing.Â
âYouâre not a bother.â A man of few words, Mingyu feels like he meant a lot more with that simple statement than just dismissing your apology.Â
His blank reply doesnât feel forced, not like he only said what you wanted to hear. No. He said it automatically, not thinking much about it, and it took a heavy load off your shoulders.Â
âStill, I shouldââ Youâre now standing right in front of him, looking up at his face as he doesnât realize heâs in your way.Â
âRight, sorry.â Mingyu rushes to get out of your way, stumbling against his own feet as he walks backwards to go get his keys. âDo you need a ride? I couldââÂ
âOh, thank you, but itâs okay. Iâm meeting a friend at a restaurant close by.â A warmness spreads on your cheeks at his offer. âDo you happen to know which way to go? Itâs supposed to be a few blocks from here.âÂ
To redirect his attention away from you, you show him the address of the restaurant on your phone screen. You frequent the neighborhood on a weekly basis, but the blocks tend to mix up, as the buildings look too similar to each other. Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, trying to remember the names of the streets around his place.Â
âI think itâs three blocks to the right, and then two to the left.â He doesnât sound very convinced, but you trust youâd be able to tell if heâs sending you the wrong way, so you take his word.Â
Even after denying him, Mingyu still accompanies you downstairs, and you politely say goodbye to each other at the entrance before separating.Â
The sun sets on the horizon, the golden hue painting the streets beautifully as you walk. âThird block to the right, then turn left,â you mentally repeat, trying to concentrate on the directions as well as you try to find a street sign that'll tell you if youâre going the right way.Â
As you reach the second block to the left, where Mingyu implied the restaurant should be at, your phone vibrates inside your purse. The unknown caller doesnât give up while you contemplate whether to pick up or let it go to voice-mail, but something in the back of your mind urges you to answer. So you do.Â
âWho is this?â In case that another telemarketer got a hold of your phone number, you try to sound annoyed.Â
âItâs Mingyu, sorry,â his deep voice sounds the tiniest bit robotic due to the poor service, âI realized I sent you the wrong way. You have to turn right instead of left.âÂ
âOh,â you chuckle as your eyes read the street number youâre at, âthank you.â You donât tell him you couldâve figured it out on your own, a tiny smile appearing on your face at his gesture.Â
âI shouldâve warned you that Iâm terrible with directions.â His breathy chuckle reaches your ear at the same time as a metal ruffling sound. Was he heading out to find you in case you didnât pick up?Â
âNo worries.â Your mind is blank, as the two things youâre most awkward at doing are getting combined in one: phone calls and talking to Mingyu. âHow did you get my number?âÂ
âI asked Jungkook for it just now.â That feels weird for some reason, but you toss that feeling away, trying not to overthink about it. âYou okay?âÂ
âYep! Heading that way now! Thank you! Bye.â You abruptly hang up on him, the only way you thought to end the awkward conversation.Â
Your heart rate escalates, pumping hard like itâs about to beat out of your chest as you go the correct way now. Whatever you do, your mind still manages to replay what just happened over and over again, until youâre standing in front of the restaurant hostess.
Walking towards the table you see Nayeon sitting at, the idea of Mingyu having your number saved makes the back of your neck tingle with nervousness, and you can't shake the feeling even as you greet your friend and she starts telling you about her day.
Maybe youâre giving it way too much thought. Itâs just the excitement of finally feeling like youâre growing closer to your boyfriendâs friends. Nothing more.
There's been a noticeable shift in the awkwardness of your âfriendship" with Mingyu. You didnât become best friends overnight, but at least he stopped fleeting away from you anytime you'd be over at their apartment, and wouldnât deliberately choose the spot furthest from you at any group gathering.Â
As you and Jungkook step out of his car and walk over to the front door for the costume party a classmate of his was throwing, you can only take a deep breath and hope your extroverted self appears after a few drinks, and that Mingyu doesnât decide he hates you again, because heâll be the only other person you know at the party.Â
Not much of a partier yourself, youâre just trying, for him. Trying to join your boyfriend in what he likes, especially after he showed interest in you being there with him by inviting you.Â
The loud music can be heard even with the door closed, and Jungkook texts his friend to come pick them up, because ringing the bell clearly wonât do anything.Â
âHi man! Sorry for making you both wait.â A tall blonde man who youâre sure is named Jackson welcomes you in, giving Jungkook a man hug before looking you up and down and asking. âWhat did you guys come as?âÂ
âIâm a firefighter dude! And sheâs...â Jungkook looks at you waiting for your answer, not even trying to remember the name of the character youâre dressed up as.
âMavis, from Hotel Transylvania!â You smile as Jackson finally lets you in, and you can see in his expression that he has no idea who youâre talking about when you walk past him.Â
As soon as you cross the door, it is a relief to find Jungkookâs whole friend group there, sitting occupying the entire couch for themselves, only one big body missing from the ensemble.Â
Jungkook only takes his hand off you to greet his friends one by one, and makes them promise to save you seats while you go to the kitchen to find something to drink.
It hasnât been long since the party started, but the crowded house is already filled with that dense air mixed with the smell of sweat, and the sticky bodies make it harder for you two to advance into the kitchen.
Part of you is relieved that Mingyuâs nowhere to be seen, if heâs even at the party. Sure, youâre getting along now, but being around him is still stiff and awkward. Maybe you can use this opportunity to try and get close to Jungkookâs other friends.Â
Sitting between him and other two strangers that squeezed themselves on the far end of the couch, that plan is quickly scrapped. Itâs possible Jungkook doesnât realize youâre too far away to be included in any conversation, he wouldnât do it on purpose, but you have no will to tell him. Not when his body is fully turned away from you as he talks to Cathlyn and the guy she's dating, Yugyeom.
The music's too loud for their voices to travel backwards and let you hear, but judging by Jungkookâs menacing body next to yours, he doesn't seem to be liking the conversation. He didn't talk much about Yugyeom, that name being new to you as Jungkookâs hadn't even mentioned him before. And from what you know, he and Cathlyn have been having some problems for the past few weeks, so it's normal for her best friend to dislike him.
â  â  â â â  â â â  â
Mingyu thinks of himself as somewhat of a good friend. Sure, he may have some faults and he fucks up every now and then, as everyone does, but whenever his friends need him, heâs there. He covers for Jungkook at school, listens to his girl problems as any friend would do, hates whoever he hates, and heâd never break that friendship over any random girl. That said, heâs still a man, and he has eyes.Â
When he comes back from the patio after catching up with some old friends he bumped into, he first lays eyes on the striking yellow costume Jungkookâs wearing. But as he follows the bright color, he sees you sitting by his friend's side, his arm wrapped around you but giving you no attention as you drink from an almost empty cup.Â
It's no surprise to him that Jungkook's too enthusiastically talking with Cathlyn instead of any other friend, or instead of dancing and enjoying the party. What shocks Mingyu is how blatantly heâs ignoring you, sitting so pretty by his side.Â
Yeah, Mingyu can admit he finds you pretty. He might be a good friend, but heâs not blind, and denying it would just make him stupid. Any guy with a brain should be lining up for a chance to talk to you, getting lucky to be the ones you spare a glance to. Instead, youâre sitting with an arm around you and being ignored by its owner. It could be that heâs gulping down his fourth drink already, but he might even go as far as saying youâre his type. But thatâs about as far as it could possibly go. Youâre pretty, nice, and in love with his best friend. Well, maybe not in love yet, but you like him enough to put up with his shit. And Mingyuâs not interested. He canât be.
A smile forces itself on your face as your eyes catch his across the room. The most polite way to acknowledge his presence without trying to interact with him further.
Mingyu nods your way and drives his eyes elsewhere. Itâs not like he wanted you to do anything else, and even if he wanted to go up and chat with you, he couldnât have fit in between you and the people on your other side crushing your free arm.Â
So, he stays there, standing against a wall on the only free hallway âin which there arenât any people because Jackson threatened anyone who dared to step within a two feet radius of his bedroom, watching the scene progress before his eyes.
Where his friend has a reputation of being a heartthrob, a player, or a heartbreaker, Mingyuâs always thought of as Jungkookâs serious and mean friend. A bad school reputation is the least of his priorities, and he doesnât care to change how people he doesnât care about think of him. Itâs not like heâs not enjoying the party, he just prefers to stand alone and drink. If that paints him as a boring guy, so be it. He tries scanning the room to find a friend to catch up with, but it's pointless, only the bright yellow costume makes itself visible.Â
It's mostly a blur of bodies messily dancing to 2000âs pop songs inside that room, but Mingyu could recognize his best friend's silhouette if he was miles away and 90% blind. Your costume contrasts with Jungkook's in a way that even drunk Mingyu realizes itâs you who's being dragged onto the âdancefloor".Â
He sees you get loose as his friend's hands wrap around your waist and move your bodies in sync. It seems that every single light in the house is on despite it being a party, and youâre in the center of his line of sight, constantly and too easily catching his attention.Â
What he doesnât see, however, are your constant complaints about dancing, appearing as flirty whispers to anyone who wasn't listening. And after he takes his eyes off of you two to find a glass of cold water, youâre back again to your original place on the couch, this time with much more space around you.Â
âNot much of a dancer?â His feet directed Mingyu to where you sat almost instinctively. Thereâs finally room to sit down so heâs going to take the opportunity before somebody else does.Â
âOnly when Iâm in the mood.â Your stareâs lost somewhere in the room, paying attention to your drunk boyfriend dancing with his best friend.Â
âI see.â You both sit awkwardly, body facing front and eyes focused on the same view.Â
âCool costume, by the way. I love Hotel Transylvania.â Mingyu manages to fill in the gaps of the heavy silence.Â
âThank you! Youâre the only one that recognized me.â A small smile appears despite your bad mood.Â
âPeople here lack basic culture.â A simple joke followed by awkward laughs from the both of you, the atmosphere doesnât help to ease the tension of your interaction.Â
âI wanted Jungkook to dress up as Johnny.â You have to stretch your neck to Mingyuâs side so he can hear you above the loud music.Â
âThat wouldâve been cute.â Mingyu doesnât know what else to say. Itâs been a common occurrence for him to go blank when talking to you.Â
âI guess heâs not a fan of matching costumes.â You try your best to continue the conversation, not really caring whether heâs interested or not. The little alcohol in your system wonât let you fall on an awkward silence again.Â
âHe probably got tired of them after so many years.âÂ
You freeze.Â
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
Mingyu realizes he just fucked up. All those drinks he had before you came, and that one after, finally brought him to the stage where his mouth gets loose and he starts blurring out things he shouldnât.Â
âUhâ, I mean, Cathlyn used to force him to do it for halloween.â Force.Â
For the record, Mingyu's not a liar. He might be loyal to his friend, not wanting to put him in bad situations, but heâs not going to go above and beyond to protect an already weak relationship. So, he picks a word thatâs going to save Jungkookâs ass, but still saying part of the truth.Â
âRight.â If you caught on to his deliberate choice of words, you donât show it to him.Â
 â  â  â â â  â â â  â
Itâs pointless to get mad at your boyfriend for such a meaningless piece of information. Every relationship is different, and you shouldnât be comparing yours to a much older one. Their bondâs just different! It doesnât have anything to do with you if Jungkook didnât want to do stupid matching costumes.Â
Still, youâre glad Mingyu slipped and gave away the truth, and you appreciate his effort to make it sound less bad.Â
Jungkook gives you no time to ponder on what to do though, as he stumbles his way back to you, so drunk he canât regulate his strength and falls hard on the couch.Â
âMy heead hit the back of the c-couch with my head.â Jungkook pouts and slurs his words.Â
âOw, baby, youâre really drunk.â Mingyuâs eyes pierce through your back, and a wave of self-consciousness takes over you. âShould we go home?âÂ
Jungkookâs cheeks feel warm in your hands as you try to get him to look at you, but his drunk mind can only concentrate on one thing at a time, and for the time being, his eyes are focused on Yugyeomâs hands groping Cathlyn's ass shamelessly as they dance.Â
âI donât feel so good.â He only says, his drunk stare having a hard time straying away from that scene as he gets up and stumbles his way out the house.
Mingyu runs after Jungkook just behind you, and manages to catch him before he faceplants on the damp grass outside.Â
âWhere did we leave my car?â Jungkook asks no one in particular, disoriented from his almost-fall. âWait, youâre not my girlfriend!â His eyes go wide as he realizes who was helping him and tries to escape.Â
âIâm here, babe.â Before he manages to, you wrap your arm around his other shoulder, leaving him no choice but to be embraced by yours and Mingyuâs hold so he doesnât hurt himself again.Â
Now that youâre outside, with no music blasting at full volume, no people around pushing you constantly, and breathing fresh air, youâre too aware of your surroundings. Or more specifically, how Mingyuâs arm and yours touch behind Jungkookâs back.Â
It's a weird way to break the ice of skin to skin contact in a friendship, but maybe itâs what you need to end the lingering awkwardness that surrounds your interactions once and for all.Â
âI saw you drinking.â You scold Mingyu after you two lay Jungkook down on the back seat and he turns to find his way back to his car.Â
âIâm not drunk anymore.â He mutters just before he trips with his own foot. âOkay. Iâll crash on the back seat for a while and then Iâll go home.âÂ
âIâll drive you.â Mingyu's silence as he thinks of a polite way to turn your offer down only eggs you further. âIâm going there anyways.âÂ
âI-I wouldnât want to take advantage.â He fiddles with his keys, avoiding your eyes.Â
âOf what? Me? His car?â Mingyu hesitates, the gears in his brain visibly turning.
âI donât know.â Itâs quiet, his response, and no matter how cute and defenseless he looks when heâs drunk, you donât really have time to wait.Â
âIâm offering.â You deadpan, but try to flash a small smile so his drunk brain doesnât understand your hurriedness as anger. âYouâre clearly still drunk, câmon, donât make me have to drag you.â
Realizing thereâs no way out of this other than listening to you, Mingyu caves in and gets on the passenger seat of Jungkookâs car. âYou wouldnât be able to drag me anyways.âÂ
Of course, you can't push an over six-foot-tall gym bro even if you use all possible bodily strength you have. "Hell yeah I can!â Your teasing stare meets his, and you know he got what he wanted by pushing your buttons.Â
"Iâd love to see you try.âÂ
An indescribable feeling completely shuts down the workings of every organ inside you. It could be what he said, but itâs just a common phrase to tease a friend. It could be his eyes that refuse to leave yours. Or it could be the silver of a smirk that appears as you hold your breath. Whatever it is, you push it down, hide it on the very back of your mind and put up ten walls to disguise as a simple and normal response to teasing.
âWe should-âÂ
âI donât like him.â The drunken backseat passenger you had forgotten about interrupts you.Â
âWho?â The distraction allows you to break eye contact with Mingyu. A believable excuse to put a stop to whatever was happening.
âThat guy she was with.â Jungkook looks like heâs talking to himself, his eyes closed as if he wanted to fall asleep and unaware of who he's actually talking to.Â
âCathlyn? Her boyfriend?â Mingyu intercepts so you wouldnât have to ask the awkward questions, already knowing where this conversationâs going. âYugyeom?â
âUgh, don't say his name.â Mingyuâs instinct tells him to see your reaction, to check if you realize what Jungkook means by all of this, and especially if it hurts you. âHe has a douchebag face.â
You chuckle at his pouty statement, but deep down his words pierce a surface cut on your denying heart. Itâs gone as fast as it came, but it was there, and your hands automatically started the car, urging you to start driving like nothing happened.
Ever since the evening started, Mingyu knew Jungkook wasn't going to have a good time. Not since opening the door to the bar that revealed Yugyeom there with Cathlyn.
âWhy is he here?â Jungkook muttered under his breath, annoyed, on the verge of being angry.
âShe's allowed to invite her boyfriend. Just like you invited your girlfriend.â Is all Mingyu replied.
Jungkook has been in his life ever since he can remember. When their first tooth fell out, when they schemed behind their parents to figure out if Santa was real, when he got his first bicycle and Jungkook laughed in his face when he fell and scraped his knee, when they met Cathlyn in high school and Jungkookâs eyes shined brighter than ever, when they went to prom and lost their virginities on the same night, and when they got accepted to the same college and joined the same classes. Every memory Mingyu has, itâs always Jungkook by his side. He can't mess with that peace, no matter how violently he wants to tell his friend to stop playing with girlsâ hearts and realize heâll be much happier if he owned up to his true feelings.
So, he resorts to trying to make Jungkook connect the dots himself by telling him harsh enough truths. Itâs a work in progress.
In the few hours youâve all been at the barâs pool table, Mingyu hasnât said a word. He's been sitting alone at one table on the side, seeing his friends sucking at playing and actually having fun.
With the excuse of being tired and simply enjoying watching each round, he took the opportunity to be temporarily invisible. With all of them busy, he can look at you all he wants, smile to himself when you miss your shot, and pretend to be drinking from his half empty glass.
Thereâs not much more he can do. Whatever he thinks he feels, whatever he thinks of you, itâs wrong. Thatâs why, at that moment, he prefers the loneliness of his table. The crude reality punishing him in real time is enough.
Doesnât matter if youâre on the same team as Jungkook or not, your attention is always focused on him. You search for his touch, his eyes, crave his attention on you. But the more drunk his friend gets, the more competitive he gets, and the little patience he had with your lack of pool skills is quickly dissipating.
Another round finishes, with the both of you losing to Cathlyn and Yugyeom again, and itâs more than obvious that Jungkookâs annoyed. When your opponents excuse themselves to the bar to get more drinks, you try playing on your own and see an opportunity to try and get Jungkook in a good mood again.
âI swear I know where to hit it! My arms just wonât cooperate.â A chuckle escapes during your lighthearted shout.
Jungkook sighs at your missed shot, your pout having no effect as heâs trying to conceal his annoyance. âWhich one are you thinking?â He only asks.
âThe red one, close to the middle?â You point to it, waiting for any reaction, but he just waits for you to continue. âIf I hit it a little to the right, I think it can go inside the left corner hole.â Bodily coordination may not be your strong suit, but youâve played enough online pool that your brainâs trained to draw the imaginary angles.
The main idea was telling Jungkook your theory, him realizing you actually have an idea of how to play the game, and finally teaching you how to get a hold of the cue stick correctly.
âYou have to do it like this.â Jungkook takes the cue from your hands and takes your place, ushering you to the side to watch as he takes the shot. âYour index and middle fingers serve to place the tip of the stick where you want it.â
âBut I-â You were right, and the ball enters exactly where you said it would, but you canât chant victory. Not when his attention shifts to a heated argument just meters away from you.
In the second it takes you to focus on whatâs happening, your eyes land on Yugyeom stomping out of the bar, a crying Cathlyn left behind. You donât even have to check if Jungkookâs still by your side, as he soon enough appears with an arm around her shoulders in an intent to console her.
When he starts getting the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and heads to walk out the door, you realize the comforting session wonât be quick. But why would it be? His best friend just had a screaming fight with her boyfriend in public. It makes total sense that heâd want to take her out to have some fresh air and a little more privacy than inside the full bar.
âIf I knew the night would be like this, I wouldâve stayed home resting for next week.â Your body falls on the chair next to where Mingyuâs been sitting in silence. His flat expression rapidly makes you uncomfortable, like you just crossed a line. âShit, theyâre your friends, Iâm sorry, I shouldnât havââ
âNo, youâre right.â He interrupts you, with a tone that implies you must've taken the words right out of him. âI get having troubles, God knows I've seen them go through stuff, but we're allowed to be tired of it.â
Between his cold exterior and sometimes unfriendly choice of words, Mingyu's surprisingly capable of understanding other people's feelings.
âHas this been happening a lot recently?â You don't care to sound like a gossip. âHer fighting with her boyfriend, I mean.â
Mingyu sighs, eyes wandering to the door through which both of his friends just stepped out of. âLetâs just say, itâs been a regular occurrence.â
âWell, letâs not let other peopleâs problems ruin the fun.â You decide out loud. Youâve been having fun since you got here, regardless of your boyfriendâs bad mood, and youâre not going to let anything ruin your last night out before the busy week you have ahead. âDo you want another drink?â You down the last sip of what Jungkook was drinking.
âOh, actually, Iâm saving to pay for gas for the trip we have next week. I promised to drive, so.â Mingyu explains, too apologetic for simply refusing a drink. âYouâre coming right? Itâs a congress that our collegeâs doing.â
âOf course Iâm coming,â maybe you should be offended that he doesnât know, but itâs not his fault, âIâm the one giving the presentation.â
âWait, seriously?â Mingyuâs eyes go wide, in slight shock as well as in embarrassment. âI knew you had a big thing coming up, but I didnât think it was that! How did I not know?â
âMaybe Jungkook forgot to tell you. You know how he isâŠâ Mingyu nods at your statement, but the answer brewing in his mind gets cut short by the glass door opening once again.
As if he was summoned, Jungkook re enters the bar alone, quickly lets you know he'll wait outside for Cathlyn's uber with her, and leaves again without sparing you another glance.
Silence fills the void between Mingyu and you, only murmurs from the people around the bar manage to make it not unbearable. Awkward again, you never seem to have a normal conversation with Mingyu without feeling some type of way. Jungkook interrupting seemingly added a layer of tension very hard to dissipate.
âIâm gonna⊠practice playing.â You arenât the best at handling awkward silences, so you stand up with that excuse. âIâm so bad at it! I think the stick does the opposite of what I want on purpose.â
Mingyu chuckles behind you, following you to the pool table to watch up close. âYouâre not that bad.â You look at him dead in the eyes, head tilting to the side with scepticism. âIâve been watching you play! You just need to learn how to get into position correctly.â
Your arms cross in front of your chest, deciding if what Mingyuâs saying is in any way true, or if heâs just trying to make you feel better. He takes the cue laying on the table, accidentally knocking a few balls away from their places in the process.
âShow me how youâd do it.â As he hands the pool stick to you, warm smile and standing tall facing you, you feel secure he wonât tease you if youâre awful.
âOkay, but donât you dare mock me.â The lighthearted threat makes him chuckle again, and your fingers tremble grabbing the stick from his hand. âThis is my usual.â
You mentally cringe at yourself, but you push through it and lean your chest forward, hovering over the table, setting the tip of the stick between your fingers and analyzing which ball to hit.
âI see where things might go wrong.â His voice sounds closer with each word, but it's not enough to prepare you to feel his chest against your back, his arms embracing you to guide your hand where he wants to. âYour handâs too close to the end of the stick. Youâre not in full control of it.â
When he places his hand over yours, helping you slide it up the cue, youâre sure your whole bodyâs covered in goosebumps. Your heart accelerates to unimaginable speeds, about to jump out of your chest as Mingyuâs breath fans on the back of your neck.
âI think we can get the blue striped one,â your mouth blurts out faster than your brain can think, âIf I manage to hit the white a little to the left, I can go right and push it into the middle hole.â You try to play off the unprecedented effects Mingyu has over you, forcing yourself to get your mind back in game mode.
He doesnât let go of his hold on your hand, his arm grazing yours even more closely. âAre you sure? That one seems like a long shot.â You can hear his smirk through his teasing words.
âJust help me hit it there.â Your head turns just barely to the side, finding his face much closer than you imagined, and your eyes roll before going back to the table, trying to mask the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks. âI know Iâm right.â
âRelax a bit. Itâs close to the hole, so you don't need to hit it too hard.â Mingyu extends his other arm over the table, helping you position the tip to hit exactly where you told him to. You don't dare move, his cheek brushing against your temple freezing you in place momentarily.
When you feel his hands tighten over yours, taking control of the stick with your fingers tangling with his, your arms fall limp, letting him shoot the shot. With the tiniest push, the barest tense of his muscles all around you, both your arms move the cue forward and hit the white ball.
The both of you smile as the striped ball falls in the hole you said it would, relaxing against one another before realizing just how close you really are.
âI told you, I was right.â You chuckle away from him, using cue in your hands as a barrier.
âIâm sorry I ever doubted your skills.â Maybe itâs the drink he was stalling to finish until you approached him, but Mingyuâs more relaxed with you tonight, a little more prone to smiling than usual.
âBabe?â But Jungkookâs voice quickly wipes it off his face. âLetâs get going, wait for me outside.â
âWait!â You get off Jungkookâs hold, almost offended that he thinks he can drag you away at his will. âI was finally getting a hang of it. Mingyuâs a better teacher than you, you know.â You try to joke to ease the suddenly tense atmosphere, but it doesnât work.
âIâm really tired, babe. And I promised Iâd take you home, so, please?â Jungkook retorts, face turned your way, but his eyes are on his roommate.
The staring contest between the two men doesnât stop, an indecipherable friction you donât really want to find out the meaning behind.
âOâŠkay,â there isnât really an out where the three of you will be happy, so you just accept Jungkookâs petition to leave, âbye Mingyu.â
You walk away, your hand in the air wishing for Jungkook to take it and come after you.
Mingyu begins to grab his stuff, assuming the both of you will be quickly out the door by the time heâs done paying his tab, but it seems the night is not over for him yet.
Jungkook grabs him by the arm and turns him around so theyâre face to face. âWhat do you think youâre doing?â
âWhat the hell man?â Mingyu shoves the otherâs hand away, a hunch telling him his friendâs anger has something to do with you.
âI leave for a minute and youâre all flirty with my girl.â Jungkookâs always been a jealous man, but Mingyu canât help but sigh at the accusation.
Still, Mingyu canât lie and say he wasnât flirting. He canât say he didnât love the way you were blushing and squirming under him. And he canât say that it wasnât what he was looking for.
âI was entertaining her because you left.â He retaliates with a part of the truth. âItâs getting old man, you canât just leave her to go after Cathlyn all the time.â
âYouâre back with that again.â Jungkook throws his arms in the air, easily irritated by the topic. âYou know what? Iâm tired of this.â As the confrontation he was looking for didnât turn out the way he wanted to, Jungkook begins walking away, âIâm leaving, weâre leaving.â
âYou never want to talk about it, but you know itâs wrong.â Mingyu adds, a little louder this time. âYou gotta stop.â
âWhy are you so worried?â Getting more frustrated by the second, Jungkook barely turns, not fully facing Mingyu. âYou never cared about it before.â
âCâmon man, Iâve always noticed.â How awful of a person he is. Accomplice to his best friend breaking girl after girlâs hearts, itâs true that he never cared this strongly about Jungkookâs extracurricular activities. Even though he always tried to make Jungkook realize the truth by himself, for his own good, Mingyu can admit, to himself at least, that now he has an added, selfish reason to want his friendâs behavior to come to an end.
âItâs my life. When I need an opinion, Iâll ask for it.â With that, Jungkook finally leaves, getting out the door to where youâre waiting in the cold.
Mingyu wasnât done with the conversation. There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to say that itâs your life too. Jungkook's messed up feelings were affecting the people around him too, especially every girl he dates to forget. Especially you. But he just couldnât keep pushing it, not without the truth coming to the light.
Mingyuâs reputation of being too serious, or even heartless sometimes, wasn't born out of nothing. He's aware of his resting bitch face, of the way he bolts in and out of class and the way he's never the first choice for group projects in the classes none of his friends attend. If he cared what other people thought of him, maybe it'd hurt. But he has enough friends, friends who like him the way he is, and doesn't go to college to expand his contact list.
Going to university, to him, was exclusively a way for him to learn more about his likes and interests. He goes to his classes and focuses maybe a little too much, but itâs how he lives his days, how the hours pass until he has to go to work. That is, until you came into his life unprovoked, and disorganized his sharp and efficient lifestyle.
He never crossed paths with you on campus before, and if he were to run into you after the first time he met you, he would've probably ignored you and scurried to his building like a flash. But today, he unconsciously looked around, hoping to catch even a glimpse of your figure coming out of your majorâs building. He hoped youâd see him and smile at him as you walked his way to make useless small talk. But you didnât, of course you didn't, and as soon as he sat down on his usual seat in his favorite class, he realized. Heâs fucked.
For the first time in his life, the numbers on the chalkboard didn't make any sense, the words coming out of his favorite professor's mouth sounded like a mumble of pure nonsense. His mind couldn't focus, diving into the memory of your sweet smile next to his ear. Or the shivers your body graced him with as his hands purposely covered yours on the cue stick. His hand would grab his pen to try and write a single sentence, and the feeling of your fingers barely interlaced with his would overwhelm him.
Whatâs worse than pining after your best friendâs girl? As of the moment, Mingyu has no answer. Thereâs nothing he can really do either, besides accept youâre in a sort of happy relationship. He canât take you aside and say âhey, you know your boyfriend? My friend? Yeah, so I have a theory that he might be in love with his girl best friend, sorry!â Even thinking of doing so puts a bad taste in his mouth.
He's aware that, currently, he's at least top5 worst friends in the world. And he's not looking to end your relationship and get bumped up to the top1. It's decided. He'll just ignore whatever feelings are bubbling on the pit of his stomach until they disappear!
Easier said than done, because nothing he does seems to get you out of his mind. And the vivid reminder that heâs nothing more than someone you have to get along with is screaming at him everywhere around his home.
The four walls of his bedroom imprison him, suffocate him with the thought of you. He is a bad friend. He does want you. He does resent Jungkook for keeping you his. But if he broke up with you, would Mingyu ever see you again? Would he ever get the chance to see the heat visibly rushing to your cheeks as he walked closer to you?
Mingyu hates himself. He hates himself for getting turned on at the memory of your body heat against him, shivering at his closeness but not pulling away, letting him wrap himself around you, even if the both of you knew he shouldn't. He needs to drive his mind elsewhere.
Locking in to work in front of his computer, trying to scare away the sturdiness building up in his jeans, it might become the first time he wishes it was his day to go to the office. The front door of the apartment opens, rushed steps and messy, wet, breaths echoing against every thin wall that surrounds him. The reminder that what he deeply wants, it's not, and should never be his.
Working from home has never been so much of a curse.
â  â  â â â  â â â  â
Jungkook grips at your sides, his body flushing against you and pressing you further into the couch. The near desperate way his lips roam over yours has you gasping for air, but he doesnât relent, hands making a mess of your hair as he hopes you give him the satisfaction he craves for.
He grinds his hips against yours with determination, and you press against him trying to give him what heâs hopelessly looking for. But no matter what you do, he goes in for more, your bodies getting more and more out of sync.
You try to give him what he wants, emitting sounds of a satisfaction you're nowhere near feeling. His mouth moves to the side of your neck, leaving marks you're not sure you want.
The white door, now in your line of sight, calls for your attention. You shouldnât be thinking about other people while you have a man in between your legs doing everything to feel any type of pleasure. But if the yellow light sneaking below the closed door alerts you of something, is that the person at the back of your mind is probably right there, behind the dangerously thin cardboard the architects of the building call a wall.
âIsn't Mingyu gonna hear?â The choked up question comes out in a whisper, in fear, in panic. And the mention of his name speeds up your heart rate far more than your current activity.
Jungkook barely cares about your worry. âHe's gaming.â
You know gaming implies wearing noise canceling headphones and tuning out of the real world. But is he really?Â
âI don't know, babe, shouldn't we check?â It sounds stupid to even ask. Check? Knock on his door to very politely ask him if he can hear you having sex?
âHe's not gonna hear,â Jungkook sighs, finally looking you in the eyes to answer, âand I wouldn't care if he did. He has to know you're mine.â
There's a speck of disdain behind his words, behind the weirdly possessive statement he just made. It leaves you more breathless than ever.
âWhat are you talking about?â You don't know what kind of egotistical manly fight they have going on, men friendships are not exactly your expertise, but it can't be about something you're aware of.
âDon't tell me you don't see it.â Jungkook hasn't gotten up from on top of you, but his hands on the sides of your waist tighten a bit more after your question.
âI don't know what you mean.â You chuckle in an intent to ease up the newly tense atmosphere. You didnât mean to make it about him. âHe's your friend, you shouldn't be jealous.â
âAnd you shouldnât be talking about another man while you're under me.â Jungkook retorts, half angry, half still turned on. It's a weird mix. One that doesn't let you reply to correct yourself.
Jungkook lowers down to your mouth once again, kissing you fervently to make you forget about anyone else. And you decide to let go. Heâs here, your bodies tangled together and your loose clothing crumbled up your torsos to feel each otherâs skins. You shouldnât doubt that, in that moment, he wants you.
You drift away into the feeling of his lips against yours, both hands cupping his jaw to relax the hurried pace heâs setting. His hands under your t-shirt feel good, like he knows what heâs doing, like he knows how women like to be touched, and it helps. It helps free your mind of everything else.
Still, youâre careful of the sounds that leave your lips. You let Jungkookâs tongue slip inside and dance with yours, muffling any soft moans you donât get to restrain. He searches for something, his hips angling with yours to feel some kind of friction. If he keeps moving like that, youâll be in the mood in no time.
A ringtone coming from the back pocket of Jungkookâs jeans disrupts the quiet setting. You stiffen under him, but he doesn't let his mood come down. You're grateful when he grabs his phone to decline the call and puts it on the end table in a rush, finding your body with his hands once again.
It's like, for the first time, he's prioritizing the time he planned to spend with you. He searches for your touch like nothing happened and you're the only thing he's thinking about.
âJust let it go to voice-mail.â Your hoarse voice surprises you, echoing over a new call. Jungkook doesnât respond, not stopping the trail of kisses up your neck until your lips are against each other again.
But a call comes in again, and he groans against your mouth, trying to ignore it, letting the default ringtone soundtrack your activities until it stops on its own. Itâs awkward, but he doesnât stop kissing you and wraps your legs around him, trying to make you forget.
By the fourth call, you're both annoyed, and Jungkook reluctantly gets up from on top of you to check who's bothering him so much. The caller gives up just when he gets the phone in his hand, but from the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of him opening his texts. You donât mean to spy on him, not wanting to be a controlling girlfriend that needs to know everything her boyfriend's doing, but itâd be nice to simply⊠get told.
The clicking sounds of his fingers typing on the small screen of his phone are about to send you straight to a mental hospital. Why's he typing so fast? So insistent? Is he mad? He's not telling you anything, as if he forgot he was just kissing you out of breath.
âDid something happen?â You dare ask, even if deep down, you know the answer is clear as day. You know whoâs the only one capable of making him drop everything in a heartbeat. âIs Cathlyn okay?â
âShe needs me.â Is all he replies. Cold. Decided.
âWhat do you mean?â The question manages to mask the anger brewing inside you. For now. But you need an explanation. How many times can you put up with the same situation until you blow up? He canât expect you to be all right with being stood up constantly.
âYugyeom broke up with her.â He explains without looking at you, like thatâs enough of an excuse.
âShe always needs you when youâre with me.â Bitterness bleeds through your mumble. It doesnât feel good. You should understand that best friends need each other. But why are you never on the receiving end of his undivided attention?
âYou canât expect me not to care when sheâs going through something. Sheâs my best friend. She goes first. Always.â
His words are like a bucket of ice water in the middle of winter. The explicit revelation that his priorities are carved on stone. There's silence as he realizes what he said, and neither of you dare speak up.
Your lungs expand but no air gets inside, and your throat threatens to close as your body prepares to start shedding tears. âWhy make plans with me if you're just gonna sprint her way at any sign of trouble?â You canât stop them. âYouâre supposed to be with me.â
Tears cascade down your face, quiet sobs getting in the way of your pathetic pleads. Covering your face from the outside world, you shrink in place, giving in to the crying as Jungkook kneels in front of you.
âBaby, I'm sorry.â His now soft voice barely reaches you over your sobs. âI know I haven't been very present.â
âNo, you haven't.â His hands carefully withdraw yours from your probably blotched face.
âI promise you,â Jungkook makes the effort to look you in the eyes, âafter this, Iâll be better. I'll make it up to you.â
He tries. But you, convinced or not of his willingness to fulfill the promise, don't want him to leave. It's not about the fight, or the sex, or even him. If he leaves, it cements you as the second option. If it was about winners or losers, you'd lose.
âStay.â It comes out so quiet you're afraid he didn't hear you.
But he did.
âI can't.â
Silence again. Deafening silence as you look at each other with different thoughts racing through your brains. He decided. There's nothing to be done.
Jungkook takes your hand in his and squeezes it tight in an attempt to bring you comfort. He thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks he'll be able to nurse his best friend's heart and then come running back to you after.
At your silence, he stands up, reaching for his coat hanging on the hallway before sparing you one last look and heading out.
The soft click of the door closing behind him breaks you a little more inside. The couch, no longer warm with the weight of two bodies, feels empty, too big for you to fill.
Bare, exposed, you let yourself be vulnerable only for him to cut you off and leave you there, with your feelings blurting out of you in the form of tears and sobs. The undecorated walls judge you as you cry your eyes out. Is there something you can do thatâll make him like you more? You already try so hard, youâre just not⊠her.
When the white door opens to reveal the other man of the house, you're not surprised. Of course he was there, and of course he heard everything. Your luck wouldn't let you escape this situation without throwing a more embarrassing one at your hands.
It took Mingyu all of two seconds to realize what was happening. His headphones in the grip of his hand are proof that he did not want to hear what you two were doing, he just didnât get to put them on. He may be a bad friend, but he's not one to invade someone's privacy.
That's why it took him a bit more time to decide to step out of his room. Would you let him be there for you? Would you be too embarrassed? You shouldnât be, he thinks. Itâs not your fault.
At one point, he got used to Jungkook abandoning his fleeting girlfriends at the first notification from his best friend that popped up. Mingyu never did anything for the girls, and they usually left after a few minutes. Maybe that's why most of them didn't like him. He didn't care, and they always cut ties with everything Jungkook related after the break up, so why would he?
He shouldn't be doing anything. Caring that you're crying alone in the middle of his living room goes against every rule he imposed onto himself. He should be cleansing his mind of you, stepping away from the weird not-friendship you two developed and going back to focusing on the things that matter. He shouldnât let you climb up that list.
But as soon as he heard his roommate standing up and leaving, the itch at the back of his brain started screaming at him to do something. How can he step back and do nothing? He canât be indifferent this time. Unfortunately, he does care. Unfortunately, every sob and quiet sniffle tugs at his heart and urges him to be there for you, to come out and try to be there for you as best he can.
The sight of you, even if it's not something he hadn't seen before, breaks him. Making yourself as little as possible, with your clothes wrinkled and your hair a mess, you let him sit by your side, the cold couch caving under him as he settles at a good enough distance that heâs close enough to feel him beside you, but not sticking to your side inappropriately.
The silence with him is a more understanding one. Itâs not the first time heâs seen you cry, but you donât dare say anything. Is there even something to say? You didn't argue, Jungkook didn't run away angry at you, he didn't tell you he hates you and wishes you were somebody else, yet, you feel as if he did something worse. Empty yet full of self deprecating thoughts you wouldn't voice out to the best psychologist on the planet. You couldnât tell Mingyu even if you wanted to.
A hand, warm and firm, places just above your knee. Itâs soft, careful, an innocent touch to understand that heâs there for you. The gesture is oddly comforting, and you allow yourself to feel everything. The embarrassment, the disappointment, the hurt, knowing Mingyu won't judge you for it.
âItâs not your fault.â Mingyu claims, his voice overpowering your racing thoughts.
Maybe itâs the way he says it so sincerely, but you break down even more. Your hands cover your face once again, bending down until your forehead touches your knees. Mingyuâs hand frees itself from the cage you created. Heâs definitely had enough of your crying for the night by now. He tried to help and you repay him by dropping half your weight onto his hand and continue crying? If he leaves too, you wouldnât blame him.
But he doesnât leave. Instead, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him. âHe doesnât deserve your tears.â
Your heart stops for a second, taking in your closeness and the reason behind it, and what he said about his close friend. Your head lays against Mingyuâs shoulder almost on its own, and he keeps you there, even if your tears start staining his shirt.
âHe wasnât like this before.â Your voice breaks trying to defend the you of the past, and the arm behind you stiffens before you feel his hand hold onto your other shoulder for comfort. âThey warned me, and I didnât listen.â
He shouldnât be the one to tell you. Mingyu knows that. But youâre so broken, crumbling against him like thereâs nothing else you can do, that he almost lets the truth slip out. Itâs on the tip of his tongue, the thing thatâll break you even more. But he canât allow himself to do it.
So, he stays silent, offering a place for you to let out all your feelings. Whatever you need to feel better, even if itâs just a little.
Mingyu doesnât know how much time passes, or what youâre thinking, but he can feel how your breathing regulates with every second. Eventually, your sniffles become rarer and rarer, you straighten your posture and, unfortunately for him, step away from his hold.
âIâm sorry, Iââ You canât look him in the eyes, taken aback by the realization of what happened, guilt making you trip over your words, âI shouldnât haveââ
Getting up and gathering your things is the only thing you can think of doing. Whatever solace you found in his arms is now gone, replaced by an awkwardness you donât know how to handle. Mingyuâs eyes bore holes on your back as you pick up your things that fell down when you first entered the apartment without care.
âItâs okay,â Mingyuâs gentle words help you relax, but the need to get out of the apartment is stronger. âYou can stay, I donât want you to leave while being upset.â
âI canât be here, Mingyu.â You donât mean to sound so hostile, but everywhere you look is a reminder of how pathetic you just were. Itâs pushing you away.
âIs there anything I can do?â Mingyu hovers around you, not wanting to scare you away. Heâll do whatever you ask him to. âAnything.â
âIâ I just want to be alone.â You walk yourself to the door, too tired to think about how you feel about everything that happened. Too busy to consider anything else. âI have to get ready for tomorrow.â
âRight, itâs tomorrow.â Heâd forgotten about the college thing. Your college thing. He was so busy pretending to mind his own business and hiding from his feelings that he forgot you have your own life too. âYouâre gonna do great.â
âThank youâŠâ Your hand rests on the door handle, hesitating leaving Mingyu after he helped you. âIâll see you tomorrow.â Your lips tight in the best smile you can manage, in an attempt to not seem mad at him.
âWeâll pick you up in the morning.â Mingyu announces, even if he knows you planned to come on your own.
âThereâs no need for that.â You let out a sad, airy chuckle that squeezes Mingyuâs heart.
âNo, Weâllââ he starts, but corrects himself, âIâll pick you up. Itâs not up to discussion. You, focus on resting.â
Mingyu takes the decision for you and opens the door himself, both of you ignoring the tingling at the touch of your hands. A quiet mumble goodbye is all you manage to say before going for the elevator. And Mingyu stays at the door until heâs sure the elevatorâs going down.
The scorching mid-day sun heated the car so much you canât rest against it. A few feet ahead, the guys stand in line at the convenience store at the gas station, with mainly energy drinks in hand and a few sandwiches. After driving the entire morning, everyone collectively decided to stop for a while for a bit of leg stretching and to recharge for more hours of driving.
Itâs been a weird day from the start.
Mingyu picked you up like he promised, and even made sure you didnât dare take an uber to their home by texting you they were on the way too early in the morning. You were about to open the uber app when he texted.
You barely got any sleep during the night, your brain switching from replaying the evening at Jungkookâs place and revising for the presentation. You rested so little, yet the usually soothing hum of the car isnât helping you sleep, choosing to focus on everyoneâs voice.
Since you opened your eyes, after tossing and turning all night, you didnât let yourself think about anything that wasnât the presentation. When to pause, how much to wave your hands in the air. It worked to an extent. But hearing Jungkook sitting by your side making the effort to talk to Cathlyn, who was sitting in the passenger seat while Mingyu was driving, almost made you go insane.
The only reason youâre alone waiting while the rest of them shop is because you insisted. No, you donât need to go to the bathroom. No, you donât want anything specific to eat. No, you donât need to walk it out. Just in need of a little bit of peace. And Jungkook let you be. Heâs been pretending nothing happened the previous night, and youâre glad heâs not forcing you to voice out your thoughts.
The bell above the storeâs door chimes as everyone leaves altogether. Instinctively, you reach for the passengerâs door, as the idea was for Mingyu and Jungkook to switch seats so Mingyu can take a rest from driving, but a voice reaches you before you get the chance to open the car.
âIs it okay if I stay there?â Cathlyn runs over to you with a pack of chips in hand.
âShotgun again?â Jungkook appears behind her, a sly smile on his face before he rounds the car to open the trunk.
She giggles at him but turns her attention back to you when she notices your silence and questioning look. âIâm sorry, I just get really dizzy in the backseat.â
Giving up on reality is easier than fighting it. Youâre not going to be the one to deny the poor girl who just got broken up with. Sure, sit with your best friend, laugh with him and ignore the rest of the world outside your bubble. Who cares? âSure, I donât mind.â
The car is not that small, but with Cathlynâs friend, who you didnât know was coming on the trip until you were in front of the car on the street by your building, you end up between her and Mingyu in the backseat.
Feeling him by your side wakes up flashbacks from the previous night. But if before he was warm and comforting, heâs now rigid in place, looking out the window as the car gets back on the road. You donât know what you expected, or why you feel a hint of disappointment at the pit of your stomach, but thereâs nothing you can really do. You arenât giving him many chances to be friendly with you either.
For a moment, youâre thankful for the cease in conversation, when Jungkook turns up the volume of the radio and random pop hits start entrancing everyone in the car into listening quietly. Cathlyn and her friend, who they call Mel, bob their heads to the song in sync without realizing, and itâs peaceful.
But then, the next song plays, and the two people sitting in the front part of the car collectively gasp. Mingyu shifts on your side, and you know he recognized what they did too.
âThis is the song thatââ Cathlyn starts, but they both laugh before she can finish explaining.
âHe really hated you for that.â The only reason Jungkookâs eyes are on the road is because heâs driving, because if he werenât, youâre sure heâd be laughing his ass off with Cathlyn.
âHe hated me before too!â She slaps his shoulder before erupting into laughter again. âFor no reason may I add.â
All three of you in the backseat just stare at them, listening, waiting for one of them to think of telling the anecdote. Your instincts want nothing more than to look at Mingyu, side eye him for a little help, but you fight them.
âWhat did you do?â Mel asks by your side, trying to get the attention from the party in the front.
âOur history teacher hated her in senior year.â Jungkook looks at Mel through the rear-view mirror. âShe argued with him almost every day.â
âI can see her doing that.â While her friend chuckles at the bit of the story, Cathlyn still doesnât turn around, almost exclusively laughing with Jungkook.
âAnd he threatened to fail me on the last test we had!â
âI keep telling you, thereâs no way he wouldâve done that.â
âIt seemed like a very real threat to me.â
âSo, you had to blast this song outside the classroom?â
âI had to make a show out of it!â
As they keep bickering about their senior year, leaving you out of the fun, the air around you becomes as awkward as ever. Melâs laughing with them, the only one paying real attention to their jabs at each other. Mingyu, on the other hand, looks down as he plays with his fingers. Youâre⊠bored.
The conversation youâre not a part of doesnât interest you, the musicâs no longer loud enough to help you take your mind off everything, and you have at least two more hours of agony.
So you focus on the cars on the road, the ones you pass, the ones that pass you, the grass, the animals, the farms, until your eyes finally close on their own.
â  â  â â â  â â â  â
When you open your eyes again, the carâs slowing down, arriving at the motel thatâll house the five of you for the following days. Itâs still bright outside, but the slightly orange tones in the sky and your stomach growling indicate the beginning of the evening.
A familiar hard surface below your temple holds your head in place. When exactly you fell asleep is the first question that pops up in your head. The second one answers itself quickly.
âWeâre here.â Mingyuâs low voice accompanies his soft grip just above your knee, with a little reminder of the last time it was there.
As you lift your head and stretch your neck until it pops, it hits you. You fell asleep on Mingyuâs shoulder. A whole two hours where you bothered him, again. Made him take care of you, again.
âYou shouldâve woken me up.â Mingyu shakes his head at your intent of an apology, but you interrupt him before he speaks up, âIâm sure you were uncomfortable.â
âReally, I didnât mind.â In the background, Cathlyn and Mel excuse themselves out of the car to look for their room in a rush. âI can wash all the drool off my shirt just fine.â
âI do not drool.â The way he chuckles compels you to join him. Itâs easy, and the first time you even smiled in the day.
The door to the driverâs seat shuts closed with force, and both you and Mingyu scurry to get out of the car as soon as possible.
You donât miss the way Jungkook studies you as he hands each of you your bags from the trunk. Cold as ice, he stays silent when Mingyu excuses himself to find their shared room.
âIf your planâs to make me jealous, thatâs not gonna cut it.â Jungkookâs voice surprises you from behind, and the frown he wears on his face accompanies the angry tone.
âI didnât plan anything.â He doesnât speak to you the whole trip, and now he has the audacity to be mad at you? âBut by the looks of it, whatever you think I did, it clearly worked.â
âAlready looking for a rebound?â He follows behind you to the entrance of the motel.
âJungkook, I donât have time for this.â
You have hours and hours of practice ahead of you, and they might not be enough for your talk to be perfect. He knows the congress is a big deal to you, or at least he should. You canât be thinking about anything else. Not about him. Not about your relationship with him. Not about Mingyu.
âAre you planning to break up with me?â Youâve never heard him talk like this before. He doesnât sound hurt, just angry, jealous.
You scoff. âIf you keep being an asshole, I might.â The answer blurts out without checking with your brain first. He didnât expect you to say something back. You didnât either.
âFine.â Jungkook crosses his arms, waiting for you to say the words youâre not even sure you want to utter. âDo it.â
âLook, I canât deal with this right now.â You take a deep breath, trying to think clearly, to not do anything impulsively. âYouâre mad and Iâm stressed. Itâs not the best time.â
âAre you saying youâll do it tomorrow?â
âWhat? Iâm not saying anything, Jungkook, stop.â Your bagâs heavy on your shoulder as you rack your brain for anything to help you out of this. âWhy donât we take the night off, Iâll practice for tomorrow, you can relax after all the driving, and weâll have a proper talk tomorrow. Okay?â
Jungkook huffs, mumbling something close to a âfine then, byeâ before storming off.
The back of your throat feels dry and hoarse from the hours of speech practice. How to modulate correctly, how to make your voice bigger. It takes a toll on you.Â
When you and your friends planned to do the finishing touches the night before the congress, none of you thought youâd be trapped in a tiny motel room for hours, tweaking the words to seem more professional, timing yourselves to fit in the 15 minute time slot, and even going as far as to plan when and how to look at the screen behind you.
Your stomach growls incessantly. You havenât had anything to eat in hours, besides the simple dinner the three of you had after setting up in your rooms. Seeing every one of you is tired, the girls donât stop you when you get up and leave the room in search of a vending machine.
Somehow, the balcony has better lighting than your hallway, and you spot a big vending machine just outside your hallway. Picking a snack is not hard when your tummy begs for anything, so you grab the random chip bag you picked and begin to head back when you hear a loud thud and a curse coming from the next hallway.
Judging by which hallway youâre walking into, and the sheer size of the person bending over in pain in front of their door, itâs Mingyu.
âAre you okay?â You rush to help him in any way you can.
Mingyuâs head shoots your way and he curses again. âShit, itâs you, hi, yeah.â He grunts in between words and tries to stand up straight. âI closed the door right in my hand. Itâs no big deal, really. Go rest for tomorrow.â
Even from afar, you could see the sweat stains on the back of his sleeveless t-shirt. His shallow breathing and sweat dripping down his hair and face welcome you as you reach him. It's a sight. His skin glistening under the white hallway lights catches your attention a second longer than it should before it goes back to the cause of his pain.
âYouâre bleeding!â Taking a closer look at the hand heâs holding, you see a growing red bubble right under the ring fingerâs nail. âLetâs get you inside.â
âYou donât have toââ
âShut up and go put your hand under running cold water.â After heâs helped you so many times, the least you can do is google what to do when someone has a bubble of blood growing under their nail.
The empty room catches your attention as you read the quick answers your search pulled up. âJungkookâs not here?â
Looking over to the open bathroom door, Mingyuâs hand is under the running tap like you instructed, but heâs staring at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. He must know about the fight you two had.
âHe went out with some friends that came here too.â He answers before giving up and drying his hand. âItâs not clearing out.â
You should be used to him sitting closely by your side. Your breath shouldnât quicken and your hands shouldnât sweat as the bed creaks below him. Actually, you need to stop getting into situations where Mingyu needs to sit beside you. But you canât help it.
Maybe focusing on his minor injury can help your body relax. âOkay, so, google says it should go away on its own in like⊠two or three days.â Even if thereâs so many questions you have for him that you avoided all day, itâs not the time.
âI'll have to stay with a blood bubble on my finger for days?â His threatening pout lifts your mood quickly.
You chuckle, taking his hand in yours once again. âDoes it hurt?â Mingyu shakes his head with a small smile growing in his face, letting you have your way.
Now that heâs calmer than when you found him outside, his fingers relax in your hold as you look for any bruises. His hand that held you and comforted you one too many times, now being taken care of by you. Rushes of warm blood follow where your skin meets his, even the lightest of touches aren't free of his effect on you.
âWhy didnât you go with them?â Your mouth betrays you once again, voicing out your thoughts instead of getting through the silence. âYour friends.â
âDidnât feel like it.â His answer is simple. And you wish it was enough to satiate your curiosity, but you simply can't stop asking questions.
âNothing more?â You don't know what you expect him to answer. Maybe you're just looking for excuses to keep talking to him, to stay in the momentary bubble that surrounds you every time youâre with him.
âI haven't been⊠liking him much lately.â
Mingyu's careful with his choice of words. Still believing itâs not his place to talk about what goes on in Jungkookâs life, he canât not be honest with you, not when youâre so close to him heâs sure you can read every expression on his face.
A drop of sweat drips down the side of his face, training your eyes to follow its way down until it dampens the side of his mouth.
âYou're best friends.â A remainder, more to yourself than to him.
âDoesn't mean I have to agree with everything he does.â
Mingyu hopes you understand the meaning behind his words.
You hope he doesn't notice the way your eyes stayed too long on his moving lips before going back to his eyes.
You both hope for things you can't voice out, charging the little space between your stares with electricity. With his hand forgotten in your hold, reading his expression becomes your main task.
None of you dare move, and you know, somehow, that he's waiting for you to do something âanything. What you don't know is what you want.
Your phone chimes in your back pocket just when you part your lips to speak. There's a millisecond, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't watching Mingyu's gaze closely, where his eyes drift down your face. With your lips dry at his attention, you break the spell, letting go of his hand to reach for your phone.
Nayeon asks where you disappeared to, and sends a long chain of suspecting emojis when you tell her who youâre with.
âIâI have to get back.â Getting up from the weak motel bed in a flash, Mingyu's eyes follow you to the door. âSorry for taking up your time.â
âYou gotta stop with that.â He stops you in your tracks, with a soft grip on your wrist to turn you back to him.
âStop talking like you're a bother.â He doesn't let you dismiss him. âYou don't bother me. I wouldn't spend time with you if you did.â
âYou didn't use to like me. And now you pity me, that's why you spend time with me.â Even if you'd like to believe otherwise.
âThat's not true.â He doesn't let go of you, and you stop aiming to get out the door. âI don't pity you.â
âYou never talked to me until you caught me crying that day.â Your head tilts, trying not to seem so serious with your counter argument.
Another text comes through your phone. You shouldn't be wasting time on such an important night. But is it really wasted time if you're spending it with him?
âIt wasn't about you.â Mingyu reveals, but it doesn't really clear up your doubts. âI don't like getting to know people I'm not sure will stick around.â
âSo, it's true.â You bring your arm out of his grip, a way to protect yourself. âI wasn't supposed to last this long.â
âLook. It's not my place, and I've already gotten too involved.â Mingyu's words fly over you, choosing not to overthink what he means. âJungkook's shit is Jungkookâs shit, but you can decide what to do too. Don't wait for him to make a decision for you.â
âI'm capable of making my own decisions, Mingyu.â You say, convinced but weary of his tone.
âI know you are. He doesn't.â
The silence is striking, breathtaking, heartstopping. Words don't come up in your brain, an infinite echo of Mingyu's remark rendering you incapable of following a simple order.
âSee you tomorrow.â You can only offer him a small smile before finally leaving the room full of him.
The applause almost breaks you down. You can finally take a deep breath. The thing youâve been preparing for weeks, taking up most of your sleep time and raising the bar for how much stress you can handle, is finally done.
Well, not completely. Your speech is done, yes, but the time for questions begins. Jennie and Nayeon answer everything swiftly as your eyes scan the room for any known faces. You finished the presentation and you can barely catch your breath as your heart tries to slow down, so they take on the most annoying part of the job.
From across the room, behind the people eager to ask their questions with their hands in the air or attentively listen to your friendsâ responses, the tall man only looking at you makes your heart stop.
Was he there the whole time? When you speak in a room full of people, you tend to disappear into your own mind, barely registering what surrounds you until your timeâs up. He could've just got here, but deep down you know he didnât. Deep down, you know heâs been there since the start, supporting you without your knowledge.
As a hand on your shoulder starts gently dragging you away from the stand, splitting the way between your connected stares, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. You're done, you can carry on with your life.Â
In the hallway just outside where you just spent the most stressful hours of your life, you can hear the next group beginning their presentation, one that luckily youâre not required to be present for. Perks of being in the line up.
Getting out the other door, Mingyu searches for you and finds you walking over to him with the biggest smile adorning your face.
âWhat did you think?â Your friendsâ giggles make it to your ears from behind. Merging the constant teasing youâre the victim of with their infatuation with Mingyu is dangerous, but there really is only one thing in your mind now.
âYou talked really well.â The highlight of every word as his eyebrows wiggle with confusion lights a warmth in your belly that spreads across your body into a chuckle.
âYou didnât understand a thing, did you?âÂ
âI didnât.â Itâs his chuckle, and his smile, and his eyes glimmering, and his chin tilted down to get a better look at you.
Have you ever felt this way before? Easy under someoneâs gaze, unafraid of making them feel less intelligent. Heâs⊠genuinely happy for you. Out of all the presentations in the schedule, your subject matter was the least close to his field, yet he chose to listen to your sociology lesson.
âThank you for coming.â You say before the magic fades. âYouâyou didnât have to.â
âI didnât want to miss it.â Heâs the most genuine he can possibly be.
Mingyu undoubtedly, and selfishly, cares about you. From the sidelines, he saw you getting the opportunity, the toll the preparations were taking on you. He wasnât going to skip one of the biggest moments of your life after seeing you struggle for so long.
âThat makes one of you.â You donât mean it to sound as spiteful, but the sour taste in your mouth as you realize who isnât present triggers the resentful tone. âAnyway, Iâm not gonna let some asshole ruin my day! Weâre going to celebrate with the girls and some guys I have no idea how they managed to make friends with, do you want to come?â
Mingyu doesn't think about what you mean behind your invitation. âSure, if you want me there.â Heâd jump at any chance he got to spend time with you.Â
Ever since that night at the pool bar, Mingyu never forgot your willingness to not let one bad moment overshadow an otherwise enjoyable day. A quality he could learn from. Thatâs why, he also canât forget about the moments he comforted you, when everything became so overwhelming you had no choice but to let it all out.
âLetâs go then!â Your hand aims to stretch back for him to take, but the little angel on your shoulder wins this round, and you just walk out the hall with Mingyu following you, hand hanging cold by your side.
The evening sky greets you on the outside world, and the fresh air filling your lungs after being trapped inside the suffocating new college is very welcomed by your body.
Following your friends wherever they go, letting them choose which bar or club to go celebrate, you can only smile and silently walk behind them. Mingyuâs towering presence occupies the space to your right. Heâs also silent, admiring the new city, letting you have the unspeaking moment you need.
Itâs not long before youâre getting into a club with flashing colored lights and loud pop music coming out of the speakers. The sense of accomplishment embodies you whole. One less thing to worry about, one less thing weighing you down. You won't let anyone take the freedom from you.
Itâs a carefree night. You let yourself be dragged to the packed dance floor, your friends leading the way amidst all the bodies crowding as they dance out of sync.
Being drunk could never compare to the happiness you feel as you join everyone dancing. You allow the music to take over you, with your hips and limbs coordinating to the rhythm of each song playing, blending into the sea of people.
You don't know when, you don't care how, and with no will to stop, you and Mingyu drift towards each other, the little space and dim atmosphere making it easy to hide everything wrong with what you're doing.
âYou're happy.â Mingyu leans down to say to your ear. The only way you could hear him over all the noise.
âI am!â You don't fight the smile growing in your lips, focusing on the way Mingyu's eyes scan your face under the blue lights.
This time, the battle between the little angel and the devil dictating your choices ends with the victory of the mischievous voice that tells you to inch closer to Mingyu.
With the excuse of the loud music, you stand on your tiptoes to reach the side of his face, your lips grazing his ear as you say, âI'm glad you came.â
His hands steady you in place before you lose your balance, holding onto your hips and keeping you in place.
You should swat his hands away. He should stand back from the girl who isn't his. The tension sizzles from the tip of his fingers barely dipping into a bit of uncovered skin and up your body until your chest tightens.
âI'm sure you'd want someone else here.â Even with the scandalous meaning behind his words, you don't ignore the light teasing tone he purposely uses.
âI'm not thinking about him right now.â His eyes search for yours, finding only truth in them.
The people surrounding you, unscrupulously dancing against each other and paying you no mind, sway your bodies from side to side. Neither of you make a move to separate, letting the pushing crowd be the excuse for your closeness. You have the urge to wrap your arms around his neck, but you fight it. Maybe if he was something else, you would.
But the universe would never let you be this careless without some karma waiting for you.
When your gaze reluctantly disconnects from Mingyu's in search for your friends, the sight of two familiar people catches your attention a few meters to the side. You should've known he was with her. That he'd choose her over you even for this.
They're just dancing, and you can't complain about it because you're currently in the arms of another man too. It's just⊠different.Â
Your hands find Mingyu's still on your sides, grabbing them softly to get them off you as your eyes go from the scene you just witnessed to him and then back. Of course, he gets it immediately.
âI can talk to him.â Mingyu has this instinct now, to shield you from having a bad time.
âNo, I'll do it. I have a few things in mind to say.â While you appreciate him wanting to help, itâs something you have to do on your own. You canât shield behind Mingyu any longer.
Making the sacrifice of looking like a psychotic girlfriend, the adrenaline moves your legs forward, no time to think further about what youâre about to do. They donât see you coming, they probably didnât even see you with Mingyu before, too sucked into their bubble to notice other people.
âJungkook.â His shocked expression just confirms your theory. He notices youâre mad quickly, but the wheels turning in his mind, failing to find the reason for your anger, are so visible you canât control your mouth. âGlad to see youâre having fun.â
âHi, babe! I didnâtâsee you come in!â He leans into the wall behind him for support, body as stiff as ever. âHaving a good time?â
âAre you kidding me?â Admittedly, youâre raising your voice a few decibels over the necessary amount, but youâve never cared less about drawing attention than at this moment. âYou really forgot, huh?â
Only then, Jungkook realizes he messed up. Itâs not normal to see you angry, especially not at him. âLetâs talk outside, okay? Itâs quieter.â
You catch his eyes going back to Cathlyn before he places a hand on your lower back to direct you to the door. Astonishing, really.
âYou could make it less obvious, at least.â The harsh cold night wind slaps you even more awake. âIâm not stupid, Jungkook.â
Youâre not dressed to be standing outside on the street at this hour. The cityâs too windy, making you shiver as if it was the middle of winter. You donât want to look weak in Jungkookâs eyes, you need to look like you stand your ground. The cold is a mental state anyway, you can fight it.
âYouâre not, babe, but what are you talking about? What are you doing here?â His cluelessness does everything but help his situation.
âWeâre celebrating that our presentation was a success.â At the news, everything clicks in Jungkookâs mind.
âIt was today.â Jungkook reminds himself out loud.
âOf course it was today! Why else do you think we drove all this way?â He has to be a special kind of disengaged and disinterested to selectively wipe his memory like this, you think.
âIâm sorry, baby! So much happened today, and I thought you didnât want to see me after last night.â
âDonât use one fight as an excuse. You forgot or you didnât care. Either way, this was important to me and you didnât come.â
People passing you on the street side eye the scene youâre making. Jungkook seems to care about being judged, taking in account the way his eyes widen at every raise of your voice.
At his silence, you keep going. âWhat did Cathlyn fucking need this time? What could have possibly been more important than your girlfriend?â It feels pathetic to call yourself that.
âYou have to understand,â his voice becomes tense at the utterance of her name, âsheâs my best friend. She means everything to me.â
Youâre positive sheâs listening to all of this. Hiding behind the clubâs door waiting for the chance to come out and comfort her oh so dear best friend. Itâs not her fault, but itâs hard not to grow an ill feeling thinking about her.
âDonât I mean anything? Why get into a relationship with me if you wonât take it seriously? If youâre in love with someone else?â
Itâs hard to form an articulated sentence when the anger and the sadness spar in your mind. Itâs hard not to feel desperate, a pitiful attempt at making a careless man care about you.
Your gaze trains on the floor, tuning out Jungkookâs lame excuses and not truthful apologies. Without looking at him, and with only the grey sidewalk on sight, itâs like you can think clearly for the first time.
âIâm sorry, baby, I promise Iâll make it up to you.â Itâs just a moment where you let his words register, and itâs the last thing you need to decide.
âNo. You wonât.â
Jungkook shuts up instantly. Your gaze doesnât falter this time, locking into his with your best poker face. You can see every thought passing through his mind, every little reaction he fights to show. He analyzes your expression, looking for another meaning, for any sign that you donât mean what you said.
âI promise I will, baby, câmon.â
The thing is, after so many promises, those words coming out of his mouth become meaningless. Theyâre just empty words he uses to get you to forgive him, heâs not being truthful, heâs just begging so he can feel better with himself.
âNo! You wonât! That was your last chance.â It gets clearer and clearer to him what youâre saying.
You shouldn't have been silently enduring the scraps of his attention he was giving you. Waiting for your growing feelings to be reciprocated by someone who doesnât respect you. Those feelings, however big or small âyouâre not sure, quickly started dissipating at the realization that he simply didnât care. It wasnât his memory, or his busy schedule, it was the lack of intention. Care and intention he always showed to someone else.
âBabeâŠâ He sounds like he gave up too, one last pity attempt you know he doesnât mean.
âWeâre done. You never wanted to be with me, and I certainly donât want to be with you anymore.â
When you start walking away, Jungkook doesnât stop you, standing where you left him with his eyes lost to the ghostly street.
Realizing the burden heâs been on your life and letting it go finally lets you see clearly. Your night mightâve been ruined, but youâre liberated from that pain. Youâre not happy, but youâre not sad either, just walking forward, a new future ahead.
Youâve walked almost two whole blocks, the motel a half block away, when the sound of rushed steps chasing you alerts you. You didnât think anyone would be coming after you, but you realize who it is right when the figure appears in your line of sight.
âAre you okay?â Mingyuâs breathless, slowing his pace to match yours. He definitely heard everything that happened.
âYeah, I think so.â Even if you sound convinced, he stays walking with you.
âIâll walk you inside.â He doesnât look back, deciding on what to do. But you know he should be making sure his friend is okay. You guess he is, though.
âI'll be fine. You can stay withââ
âI want to make sure youâre okay.â Mingyu interrupts you before you can say the otherâs name. âI don't care about him right now.â
Your heart stops for a moment before your brain catches up. All those times Jungkook left you and Mingyu came right to the rescue, when he got annoyed at them in the pool bar, or admitting he didnât like what Jungkook was âchoosingâ. Of course he has to know how his best friend and roommate feels about everyone.
âYou knew it all this time.â He doesnât look at you, staring at the distance as he listens closely. âThat heâs in love with her.â
âI didn't want to be the one to tell you.â
Your room doorâs just one step away now, but you still stop in your tracks at his words. You never thought of his silence as his way to shield you from the truth. You never thought that the initial pity he took on you âeven if he denies it, came from a place of hiding something from you.
âHe was in love with somebody else while being with me! Thatâs the kind of thing you need to tell me!â Luckily, the hallway is completely deserted at this hour. You wouldnât want to make another scene. Youâre more aware of everything now, free but raw, as if anything could scar you.
âIt wasn't my place!â For a second you understand Mingyu. Imagining him even implying it hurts more than realizing the truth yourself. But it still hurts. You trusted him with your most vulnerable moments, and all that time he hid that he knew the real cause for that pain. âAnd don't act like you didn't know it too.â
Mingyuâs harsh comment feels like a punch in the gut. Thereâs no malice in his tone, youâve come to know him and his tendency to be too direct sometimes, it was just unexpected this time.
But he is right. There were signs everywhere for you to see, signs you turned a blind eye to. It was a thought that often crossed the back of your mind, but you dismissed it before you could think about it further. You were stupid to think you were paranoid and it meant nothing.
âStop.â You realize you weren't looking at him and shoot your gaze up. âI know what youâre thinking. Donât blame yourself. Heâs the asshole and youâre not at fault for believing him.â
âBut I shouldnât have. I thought I was smarter than that, turns out Iâm just dumb.â You want to curl up in bed, hide from the judging outside world and forget all about Jungkook and the past few weeks. But not all of it.
âHeâs the dumb one for not seeing how great you are.â Mingyu's hand on your shoulder manages to comfort you enough to hold off on the tears. âAre you okay? About breaking it off?â
âI know it was the right choice for me. But I have to assimilate it, I think. Sleep it offâ
Mingyu nods in acknowledgement as your hand reaches for the doorknob. As if that was your way of ending the conversation, he turns his body to head out the grimy hallway, because he knows whatâs next. Youâll cut off everything related to your now ex, a pack of memories in which he himself is included. This is why he shouldnât have gotten involved with you. Thereâs no way youâll want to be in touch with him after everything.
âMingyu.â Itâs your voice that makes him turn around. Even considering how heartbroken you must be, thereâs a slight grin on your face as you think about what to say next. âI didnât say I wanted to be alone.â
His heart accelerates as if it was miles ahead of the thought process his brain is having a hard time catching up with. Still, beyond whatever he wants and feels, he knows you need some time to think clearly, someone to be there for you regardless of feelings.
At his hesitation, you open the door and look back at him as you enter. Itâs a clear invitation, one he accepts immediately.
After closing the door behind him, the unmade bed calls his name and he sits at the edge to take his shoes off as you begin your night routine in front of the bathroom mirror.
âIâm curious about something.â You look cute smothering moisturizing cream all across your face, Mingyu thinks. âDo you think she likes him back?â
He finds it in himself to chuckle. âDo you really want to talk about that right now?â
âLook, I wonât be sad about it if I can turn it into a gossip session later. Itâs my way of getting over things, so please just indulge me this time.â
Youâre looking at him as you tap your face with the pads of your fingers. Mingyu doesnât see an ounce of sadness in your expression, instead, youâre very serious with what youâre asking. And he wonât argue with that logic, if thatâs what it takes to help you forget and spend more time with you.
âShe never told me anything.â Your half closed eyes and head turned to the side signal Mingyu to keep talking. âIf he confessed, I think she could like him back. They already act like a couple anyway.â
Mingyu realizes he went too far. You donât say anything, but your shoulders slouch before you grab your pajamas from the nightstand and lock yourself in the bathroom. That was definitely not what you wanted to hear. Shit.
âI hope they can finally realize theyâre idiots.â When the door opens to reveal the loose but all too revealing clothes barely covering your body, Mingyu can almost hear all the air in his lungs escaping at once. âAre you getting in bed?â
Maybe itâs his mind playing sick games with him. You canât possibly be asking him to slip under the covers with you and be calm about it. Thereâs a lot of things he can calmly face up to. The idea of laying down so close to the person whoâs been making a mess of his every thought is not one of those.Â
Still, he follows suit with your not so indirect invite. He doesnât want to make assumptions about you, about the situation, or about what you want, so he lets you take the lead for tonight. Trusting that youâll show him what you need and believing that he can give it to you.
The both of you lay awkwardly side by side, facing the ceiling deep in thought. Only the breathing sounds and the way your arm grazes against his keep Mingyuâs senses in check. He feels like a highschooler having his first conversation with his crush. He can no longer be the cool, calm self he praised himself to be. So, he resorts to silence.
âWas he always like that? Ending relationships after realizing itâs not what he wants?â You turn in your place, facing him with those doe eyes of yours that always make him fold.
âIf it makes you feel any better, I think itâs the girls that break up with him.â He mirrors your position, feeling better at the entire situation when he sees your smile at his comment.
âGood for them.â
Thereâs something in your gaze that makes Mingyu question if itâs worth it to be loyal to his friend. Though that moral code mustâve been broken already, thereâs still a line, no matter how thin, he hasnât crossed yet. Emphasis on âheâ, because he can never be sure whatâs your next move.
âAre you sure youâre okay?â He dares to ask again.
Mingyuâs hyper aware of how close you are. How you shift a bit closer to him as you think your answer. He thought the clothes he was wearing were okay to sleep in, but his bodily temperature keeps rising at the thought of you.
âI still feel a bit stupid.â He canât stand hearing you talk about yourself like that, but he doesnât get to argue. You shut his mouth closed, placing your index finger on the center of his lips before he can utter a word. A touch so innocent he immediately feels bad at how electrifying it felt. âMy friends warned me that his relationships never lasted. And I guess I wanted to see it for myself. Have the empirical data, if you will.â
He sees your gaze go down from his eyes, and your hand goes down with it to whatever caught your attention. He swallows hard, waiting for just one signal. The chain around his neck tugs at the back, and he realizes youâre inspecting the little charm hanging from it.
âItâs not like I was in love with him.â Every word you say feels like fire on his end. âHe was fun at first. Thatâs what I liked about him.â
You play with Mingyuâs chain like itâs second nature. Like you donât realize your handâs dangerously close to his chest, about to feel the beating of his heart growing stronger each second.
âIâm sorry I didnât tell you.â That makes your eyes go up again, eyelashes fluttering so close he could count each one of them.
âI get why you didnât, youâre a good friend. And I think it was better for me to realize on my own, if that makes you feel any better.â The smile that grows on him matches yours perfectly.
âI donât know how much of a good friend I am anymore.â The honesty slips out of him under your scanning stare. âIâm here after all, arenât I?â
Mingyu should feel guilty. He left the bar to go after you without so much of a second thought, leaving his supposed best friend to deal with everything on his own. Thatâs how much he cares about you. His need for you overflows into every area of his life, making the guilt disappear into the stream of things that donât matter. Youâre not taken anymore. And, deep down, he knows Jungkookâs going to be fine. He doesnât care about you even a fraction of how much Mingyu does.
Heâs still deep in thought when he feels your hand going up the side of his jaw. Your icy fingers contrast against his fiery skin, driving him to lean into your touch. Heâd close his eyes and let you do anything you wanted if it wasnât for the intoxicating force of your gaze.
The irrational part of his brain doesnât let him stop you as your face gets closer so his. Youâre slowly testing the waters, seeing if heâll back down, but Mingyuâs quicker, and leans down the last millimeters to finally connect.
Your lips melt against his with a soft sigh, and everything stills for a moment. Enveloped with the tenderness of your touch, he feels you hazily pressing further against him, unsurely yearning for more.
But the rational part of his brain, the one that tugs on the last strand of morale he has, retrieves his head from your electrifying kiss.
âWe shouldnâtââ Mingyu regrets it instantly at the sight of your saddened eyes. But he knows itâs for the best. He couldnât live with himself if you werenât sure.
âYou donât want to?â The way your hand flies away from his personal space almost makes him take it and put it back where it belongs.
âI do.â He sounds desperate. He needs you to understand. âBut you should see how you feel when you have a clear mind.â
A thousand thoughts rush through your mind, visibly turning your expression soft again. Mingyu offers his arm for you to lay on, the most outlandish peace offering he can make without losing his mind first.
âOkay.â Your soft voice reverberates up his arm as you lay your head on his relaxed bicep. âDo you want to leave?â
He couldn't begin to imagine any dimension in the multiverse where he'd choose to stay away from the featheriness of your skin against his. âDo you want me to leave?â
âI asked you first.â Your light chuckle heals the worry beginning to creep up on Mingyu. In the future, he'll make sure you never doubt him again.
âI don't want to leave.â
The way your smile keeps making a blank slate of his brain should worry Mingyu. But he's never felt this way before, and if there's a chance, however big or small, that you could feel the same way, he won't go back.
âAnd I want you to stay.â
The morning sun rays bleed through the flimsy curtain, illuminating the otherwise plain motel room in a golden light. You feel warm all around, wrapped in Mingyuâs arms instead of the bedsheets that sometime along the night seem to have fallen to the floor.
But even in the confinement of Mingyuâs backhug, you feel free. What has been dragging your spirit through the floor finally cut from your life. The previous nightâs events faded to a distant memory as soon as you laid your head in Mingyuâs chest and drifted to the best sleep youâve had in weeks.
You donât dare turn in his hold, afraid to wake him up and make him face the day. Thatâs the one thing you havenât been able to dust off since you opened your eyes. The guilt.
Maybe for you, cutting Jungkook out of your life was the best decision, but Mingyu was his friend first, and last night, for whatever reason, he chose you. He chose to comfort the whiny girl that dumped his boyfriend instead of his best friend since they were in the womb.
The morning with him feels like sunrises on the beach, like a warm cup of coffee on the coldest day, like being trapped in an infinite bear hug. It feels like hope. And the guilt from wanting it all could consume you whole just like the need for him.
Mingyu must have mind reading superpowers, because his arms tighten around you before the guilt overwhelms you, easily forgetting it all at the feeling of his breath on your neck.
Neither of you say anything, sharing the comfortable silence, relishing being in each otherâs arms. You donât stop him when he tangles his legs with yours, feeling him everywhere from head to toe. You let your hands caress his forearms as they drift dangerously close to your lower belly.
Itâs wrong. Itâs definitely wrong on some moral level. Borderline evil even. Itâs too soon, and you need to understand what youâre feeling before moving forward with whatever this is. This that feels so nice, so right, but so wrong.
Mingyu doesnât seem to be having the same moral dilemma thatâs running around your mind anymore. The hardness you feel pressing against your inner thigh followed by a gasp that spreads goosebumps all across your back confirming your theory.
In the morning haze, in the limbo between days where time doesnât run and actions donât have consequences, you give into his infectious desire. The agreement you made the night before flying out the window as soon as a fire ignites all across your body.
You purposely grind against him, the indecent action causing your face to feel even warmer. A low moan gets caught in Mingyuâs throat at the feeling of your ass against his morning wood, one hand gripping your hip to keep you in place.
âWhat are you doing?â His raspy voice sends another fire down your body, making you squirm in his grip.
âNothing.â You feign innocence, pretending to straighten your posture but ultimately pressing yourself harder against his chest. âYou don't like it?â
The space between your bodies is crushed impossibly tighter until all you can feel are his muscles tensing in his search for you. The barrier you left standing the night before, demolished with little care as he sighs to your ear.
âIt's not that, princess,â every bit of skin Mingyu touches works like a button to make you need him more and more, âwe should wait.â
You'd agree with him if it wasn't for the elastic of your sleeping shorts stretching to fit his wandering hand. Itâs a timid action, one that contradicts his words but only gets encouraged by your gasp. These arenât the hands that held you close when you were broken, no, these are the ones that felt you shiver pretending to teach you to play pool, the ones that pushed you against him in the dimness of the club. The ones you crave with your whole body.
At your reaction, he drifts further down, playing with the hem of your panties so painfully slow the grip of your hand on his forearm grows stronger with each second he doesn't fully touch you. His lips graze your shoulder, trying to contain himself from kissing every inch he can reach.
When he flattens on your pelvis, pressing you against his faltering hips, you swear your whimper drives him to not so innocently thrust behind you. The room is impossibly hot, but you donât care, nothing matters other than your need to feel him inside.
Your mouth opens, hoping to work enough to plead for him, but a loud knock on your door startles you both out of the embrace.
If the earth itâs going to swallow you at any point in life, you hope itâs right then and there. Your panties are uncomfortably sticky as your embarrassed gaze connects with Mingyu, the both of you speechless with guilt. The most awkward second ever before another knock echoes into the room.
âTell Jennie Iâll be out in a second? I promised her weâd go out for breakfast together.â
The embarrassment doesnât let you look at him a second longer before you lock yourself in the bathroom. Maybe a splash of cold water on your face can help you not look like you just got cockblocked.
â  â  â â â  â â â  â
However Mingyu thought his morning would go, the reality was far from his imagination, though it felt far better. He wouldn't mind waking up next to you again, heating up your skin with his touch until you whimper for him.
The sight of you, just woken up and shy at the boldness of what you just did, puts a sheepish smirk on his face. He almost forgets the wrongness of everything. But the decision he made, selfish and long forgotten, quickly comes back to bite him in the ass as he opens the door.
âWow, this is a nice sight!â Jungkook's face morphs into sarcastic shock as the door reveals a disheveled Mingyu.
âWhat are you doing here?â In all honesty, Mingyu didnât think about his friend last night, deep down knowing he wasnât going to be hurt for long.
âAre you her bodyguard now? I just want to talk about last night.â Jungkook attempts to take half a step into your room, but Mingyu immediately blocks the door.
âItâs not the time to get in my way, man.â The baseless threat doesnât make Mingyu budge in the slightest, which pisses Jungkook off. The manâs eyes widen after scanning the state of the room. âDid you fuck her?â
âWhat?â Mingyu can't believe what he's hearing.Â
âI asked, Did. You. Fuck. Her?â Speaking each word with clenched teeth, Jungkook's voice bleeds anger.
âWhy do you care?â
Jungkook barely lets him finish his question. âSo you fucked her.â
The crude language puts a bitter taste in Mingyu's mouth. As if only the sex mattered and not everything else. Not that he comforted you at your weakest, that you opened up your heart to him, that you kissed him so softly he almost passed out. Mingyu can only hope the bathroom door miraculously becomes soundproof.
âDon't pretend to care about her now.â Never in his life has he talked to Jungkook this way, always afraid of what could happen to their friendship if he tried to put some sense into him. Then again, his actions never hurt someone Mingyu actually cared about.
âI bet you couldnât wait for me to dump her.â The words spit out of Jungkookâs mouth like acid. âEager to take on my leftovers.â
âDude, I get that you're mad, but you're getting out of line.â The peacemaker in Mingyu takes over âitâs either that or a punch in the face, and tries to get his friend back in the hallway.
âIâm not mad!â He gasps with a hand to his chest. âJust shocked, that's all. Didnât even let a day pass.â Venom coats every word he says, justifiably betrayed by the one friend he thought he could always count with.
âI didnât mean for it to come to this,â Mingyu admits quietly, âI wasnât supposed to care.â
Thereâs nothing as Jungkook processes those words. A tense second that becomes an infinite one, a void sucking every apology out of his mouth. Mingyu would pay millions to know whatâs going on in his friendâs head. He could always tell what he was feeling even when he shut everyone off. But he was never the one causing his anger.
âI can gââ
âIâll take the bus home with Cathy.â Is all Jungkook says.
His blank face waits for Mingyu to nod before walking away with no second thoughts. Out of the million outcomes he thought for this conversation, Mingyu never thought heâd be the one left speechless. But they both clearly need some time alone before going back to being roommates, before talking like two grown adults and resolving this.
Itâs the sound of a door closing just meters behind him that takes him back to the room, your room.
Mingyu doesnât know what to do to shield you from the hurt. Heâs tired of simply being there to comfort you in the aftermath. He canât stand the sight before him, your lips turn downwards trying to get a hold of your feelings. He can see it all, the process of all the emotions going through your brain, until your face settles to a serious expression.
âIâm sorry you had to hear that.â Mingyu stays at the threshold of the door, not sure if youâd still want him as company.
âDonât be. Iâm glad I did.â You stay put in place, half a step from the messy bed, looking everywhere but at him. âAt least I donât have to feel guilty anymore.â
Guilt. Thatâs what he noticed when he gained consciousness and felt you tense in his hold. âAbout what happened earlierââ
âIâm sorry about that,â you interrupt him in his hesitation, âyou said you didnât want to and I crossed the line.â
âItâs notââ Your lips part in surprise as your eyes fly to his. âIâshit, I donât want you to think Iâm only being nice for something in return.â
âYou should be glad I donât think of you that way.â Itâs a weird feel of rejection, the one in your heart as you start picking up your things. A man says he doesnât want to have sex after rubbing himself against you and fighting with your ex boyfriend. âWe should pack, get ready to leave.â
âWhat do you think of me then?â
Mingyu standing leaning against the doorframe, following your every move with his eyes, makes you stumble upon every possible obstacle on your way. Even with your gaze elsewhere, you can feel him watching your every move.
âI think youâre a good man that lacks a sense of urgency.â Unfortunately, you didnât bring much stuff on the trip, and youâre getting to the end of things to take your mind off of Mingyu. âAre you going to stare at me all day?â
âI like you.â Mingyuâs sure about a lot of things, but at the weight lifting from his shoulders, the way you stop at his words and how you wait for him to continue, heâs certain heâs never felt like this before. âIâm sorry if that's weird and wrong to say, but I do.â
âIââ Thereâs no way to describe it, how your mind clears of any reasonable thought the second those words escape Mingyuâs lips.
âYou donât have to say anything. Like I said last night, I want you to figure out how you feel on your own time. Iâll be here, you can count on me. Iâm not going anywhere.â
His assurance helps. He somehow always knows how to help you, what to say, how to act.
Before you know it, youâre face to face with him, his warmth embracing you as he tilts his head down, waiting for your next move. Your cheek lays softly on his chest after wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tightly, the only way you have to express your gratitude.
Warm air effortlessly fills your lungs, the scent of him coating every one of your senses as he replicates your hug. His arms feel right around you, as if you were meant to be like this forever, and you relax in his hold.
âThank you.â Two simple words that mean so much more are the only thing you manage to utter, hoping he'll understand.Â
âAlways.â
Some girls my friends met at the congress came to town and begged for us to take them to a club
Do you want to come? Itâs close to my place
As soon as you press send, you throw your phone at your bed on the other side of the room.
Itâs been two weeks since the most eventful weekend of your life. Two weeks since you finally stood up for yourself and chose your well being for once. Two weeks since Mingyu started being one of the most important parts of your everyday life.
Those afternoons when he made you wonder if you actually fit in his friendâs life, when the thought of him would cause you an immediate headache, feel like a ghost of the past. You couldnât imagine not being around him now, not receiving his ominous texts in the middle of the night after he finishes a random project for college that you donât understand, or not seeing his face after class when he picks you up and rambles about how good his class was that day.
He promised heâd be there for you, waiting for you to see how you feel about him without expecting anything in return. And every day that passes, the hurt and confusion fades away bit by bit, and a new, stronger, unexplored, feeling grows in your heart.
You donât know what compelled you to invite Mingyu out of nowhere. Youâre fully dressed, about to leave and with your friends already waiting on your buildingâs front door, but something at the back of your mind itched with a potent need to see him. Your fingers clicked on his contact and texted him before you could realize what you were doing.
Itâs not two minutes later that your phone vibrates with a new notification. Your skin crawls with the combined anxiety of wanting to see him but also not wanting to see him at all. The usual two feelings that fight to take over every time you think of him.
Youâre quick to run out your apartment before your friends come up and drag you out themselves. With your unlocked phone in hand, Mingyuâs name lights up your screen.
Sure. Text me address.
Iâll meet you there.
The simplicity of his texts always makes you chuckle, embarrassingly smitten by his short sentences. You quickly text him the name and address before hopping off the elevator and joining your friends in the cold weather in which youâre not meant to be wearing the club clothing you chose.
Youâd be a liar if you didnât admit you were nervous to see Mingyu. The change came without warning. After getting used to him checking up on you, learning your coffee order and your class schedule, the anticipation started taking over you. Your eyes look for him around campus, your feet flee out of your classroom knowing heâs going to be there waiting for you.
You try to distract yourself when you get too in your mind about it, about him. Itâs a difficult new kind of occurrence youâre not sure how to navigate, so you resort to acting nonchalant about it. Thatâs why, when he arrives and your friends make eyes at you, you donât let the subject go further than admitting you invited him. Itâs a normal thing for people to invite their friends to hang out!
But no matter how hard you try, your eyes donât stop wandering to the bar, where Mingyuâs forgotten his quest to get another round of drinks and is talking to the most graceful and gorgeous woman alive.
Of course, Mingyu chose tonight of all nights to look like a prince coming to the rescue. A fitted black shirt that even with the lack of light inside the club managed to highlight his build. You almost fainted when he locked eyes with you across the room and smiled walking all the way to you.
And youâd caught that girlâs eyes glued to him when he first entered the club and greeted you all. As soon as he took one step away from you to walk to the bar, the girl unhooked herself from your group and followed him.Â
âI wonder whatâs taking so long with the drinks," Youâre barely processing your words as they leave your mouth. As if you havenât been policing the interaction since it started.
âYeah, did heâŠâ Jennieâs voice trails out before she can finish, following the line of sight you basically burned in the air after so many stares. A small smirk flashes through her before she mumbles, âOh.â
Now thereâs four more pairs of eyes witnessing why youâre making a fool out of yourself.
âGuess he found something else to do.â Still digging your own grave, you canât stop making stupid comments.
Jennie and Nayeon exchange a look youâre too busy to catch, while you make sure your empty drink is still⊠empty. Yeah, the very interesting plastic cup in your hand. Definitely the most interesting sight you can be staring at. The cheap cocktail you thought could ease out the anxiety, and now that the little effect it had left your body, all you can do is laugh at yourself.
âWho is she anyway?â You didnât even catch her name before she jumped at the chance to get Mingyu alone.
âWe presented right after her.â Your friendâs voice barely reaches you over the loud music, and on top of that, you donât really care to know much about her anyway.
âRightâŠâ
Itâs not a big deal. What else did you expect? That he wouldnât be able to keep his hands off you like the last time you were in a club together? That youâd feel him all around you again as he felt you up with everyone watching? Stupid. You got too comfortable, took him for granted, and he got tired.
âAre you okay?â Nayeon materializes by your side, her hand on your arm steering your eyes back to her.
âHe can do whatever he wants! I really donât care.â Seeing how they can always tell whatâs going on with you, of course they read through the lines.
The other two girls you came with look confused before they dare to speak up.
âWe tried telling her that he was off limits," One says as the other confesses, âWe thought you two were together.â
The girlsâ confusion only fuels yours. You really didnât want to think about it further before, just in case, but it gets you wondering. âWâwhy would you think that?â
âWe just saw you talking after you presented," The blonde one giggles before her friend adds. âYou guys looked cute!â
How did they get to that conclusion after the simplest interaction? Were you that obviously nervous? Was the prickling of your skin visible when he stood too close by your side? Itâs become the norm for you two to act this way, the invisible skinship boundary long broken.
Deep down, you know thereâs no reason to doubt him. You want to be weary of him, find one single flaw to use as an excuse to not like him, but itâs pointless. Mingyuâs never proven to be anything other than supportive. Heâs been so patient with you, the deeper feelings for him developed almost on their own. No warning.
Even before breaking up with Jungkook, Mingyu was always present. Since that first day he found you crying, he made sure you had company, made sure you didnât get too in your head and helped you have a good time. He was there for you before you even realized you needed it.
You took him for granted for too long, and now he has a pretty girl in front of him showing clear signs of attraction, all while you get scared texting him.
You've been so stupid, so blind to what you had in front of you, that now you're losing it, seeing it disappearing from your life with your own eyes.
The charged stares you've been sparing them must've made their way into Mingyuâs sixth sense, because he finally unglues his eyes from the girl and connects them with yours. You know you have no right to be jealous, you two are nothing, just two people with a very complicated relationship.
As if he knew everything going through your mind, Mingyu smirks your way. He fucking smirks. The twist of his lips cause a chain reaction from your hanging jaw down to your insides becoming a roller coaster. You barely hear your friends saying theyâre going to the restroom, choosing to stay and challenge Mingyu.
â  â  â â â  â â â  â
When he got your text inviting him out, Mingyu was sitting on the couch that had seen it all happen. Jungkook, just beside him, easily took a peek at the notification that lit up his friend's mood.
âIs that her?â
Even if theyâve resolved the bad blood between them, Mingyu couldnât help to hide the reality of his feelings from Jungkook. âYeah," He told him after replying to your text.
Mingyu could count with one hand the few times you had dared to text him first these past few weeks. Seeing your name pop up, inviting him out, was thrilling.
It's been no secret that every time Mingyu disappeared to go somewhere unannounced, he was going with you. Jungkook knew it, but it was time he encouraged it.
âDude, if you like each other, I'm not looking to get in between," Jungkook assured with his eyes back to the tv in front of them.
âIsnât it weird?â Mingyu tested the waters, checking if he was hallucinating the support.
âItâs only weird if you make it weird," Jungkook shrugged, as if it were that simple.
The situation is weird. And maybe it will always be weird.
Mingyu started making up this fantasy in his head, where, in the future, youâve finally let him in and he can love you the way you deserve. One where you can look back at the past and laugh with that blinding toothy smile of yours, with all the hurt being just a distant memory. But before you two get to that point, Mingyu will make sure nothing gets in the way of your happiness ever again. And he foolishly hopes you find it with him.
âIs she okay?â Jungkookâs question took Mingyu out of his thoughts. âIâve been thinking if I should apologize or not.â
âSheâs fine,â at that moment, Mingyu realized that maybe his best friend is better at hiding how he feels than he thought, âbut an apology wouldnât hurt.â
Having long conversations was never their strong suit, so the topic ended there, with Jungkook deep in thought and Mingyu getting up to change clothes.
Something drove him to try and be more presentable for you. The last time you two went to a club together, he almost gave up everything right then and there. Now that there are no barriers between the two of you, he wonât hold back at your advances, he wonât freeze if you dance close to him. At least that was his initial goal.
When he arrived at the club, Mingyu had to pause as soon as he saw you across the room. The smile you showed your friend after something she said illuminated the whole room, leaving nothing else in front of his eyes but you.
He greeted all your friends as politely as he could without straying his eyes off you. His hand traveled itself onto the small of your back, keeping you intoxicatingly close to him as best he could. And he didnât want to leave your side, but maybe breathing an air free of your perfume would help him think clearly, he thought.
Talking to one of the girls you were with, Mingyu partly feels bad for already forgetting her name. The overworked bartenderâs taking too long to prepare all the drinks, and he has no other choice than to entertain the girl.Â
Answering her questions gets harder and harder with the music blasting, and as she places her hand on his arm to get closer to him, Mingyu can feel the interaction being under someoneâs scrutinizing eyes.
Is this all in his head? Are you really standing with your arms crossed and the cutest frown ever on your forehead, almost killing the girl in front of him with your stare? The corner of his mouth lifts autonomously at the thought of you not liking him flirting with another person.
He hasnât seen this side of you, the jealous and slightly possessive one. And even if youâre nothing more than friends, he loves it. He loves the way you squint when you lock eyes, how you shrug when he doesnât back down. Itâs easy for him to excuse himself and walk towards you again.
At the sight of him, you turn your back on Mingyu, pretending to be dancing alone. So, he has no other choice but to stand behind you and ask in your ear. âSomething on your mind?â
Your back tenses against his chest, but you donât move away, allowing Mingyu to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you close. With your friends suddenly nowhere in sight, he interlocks your fingers while in his hold, helping you relax even if youâre still pretending to be mad.
âYou took your time.â The initially suffocating sea of people now feels protective, working like a barrier between your bodies pressed tightly together and the outside world. âHaving fun?â
âI am now," Mingyuâs lips graze the side of your face as they lit up in another smirk, growing goosebumps all across your body. âHow about you?â
Somehow, being like this doesnât feel weird. Youâve had Mingyuâs arms wrapped around you so many times now that they easily mold to your figure. There really is only one difference, one that none of you dare speak up but washes over your every interaction.
âI was thinking of going home already.â You look down at your hands tangled in one, fearing that Mingyu can notice at any time how butterflies erupt in your stomach at every word he purrs right in your ear. âNot much to do here.â
âI can take you," His choice of words halts your breath, but you remember.
Untangling Mingyuâs hands from yours, you turn around in his arms to face him, regretting instantly as soon as your eyes connect again.
âYou should stay. You looked like you were having fun.â That makes Mingyu chuckle, and an embarrassed warmness bursts inside you at the sound.
âI didnât think you were the jealous type, princess.â And you didnât think he was the type to tease you in public, but life takes you to unthinkable roads sometimes.
You scoff as an excuse to take your eyes off him for a second. âJealous, huh? Youâre funny.â
In an intent to get away from his menacingly broad body, your hands take the unconscious decision to push his chest away. But you donât have the true will to do it, or the strength. Heâs too big, too muscly for you to move, and he traps your hands against him, against the sheerest shirt ever that lets you feel every muscle tense under your touch.
âIâd like to think I can make a girl laugh sometimes.â Heâs all you can see, covering every spot in your vision with his unerasable teasing smirk.
âYeah, I saw that.â At the roll of your eyes, thereâs no denying that youâre jealous anymore. Do you really care if he knows anyway?
âOh, you did? Controlling.â
âIâm not controlling! You can do whatever you want, I wonât get in your way.â If he wants to flirt with an emotionally available girl after the infinite amount of time he waited for you, you canât stop him. Youâll take your feelings to the grave.
Something brews in Mingyuâs mind at your rebuttal. âYou wonât?â
âNo.âÂ
For the first time in forever, Mingyu willingly unclasps one of his hands from yours, âAnd if I do this?â
Mingyuâs fingers creep up your neck and get a hold of your chin, titling it up until you have no other choice but to look him in the eye. He waits for your answer, as if youâd ever say no. As soon as you nod, giving him the okay, another smirk is the only warning you get.
Your lips, meant to be pressed against his forever, part with a sigh as Mingyu's arms wrap around your waist. The world around you, with frantic music and people moving at lightspeed, fades to nothing in his embrace. You move along Mingyuâs soft lips naturally, letting your heart convey your feelings through the kiss.
The memory of that last kiss you dared give him all those days ago canât compare to this one. Thereâs no hesitation this time, no guilt restraining you from following your true desire. Nothing outside your bubble really matters as your hands travel up his chest to keep his head in place.
His hair feels soft between your fingers as you push yourselves together closer and closer. You never want anything else in life, just kissing and kissing Mingyu until your lungs give out. Itâs unfortunate that you canât.
âLet me take you home," He gasps with your lips just millimeters away.
Your stomach twists and turns with anticipation. âOkay,â barely a whisper accompanies your nod, fearing the way your voice could come out if you said more.
With his hand in yours, walking the moonlit streets in swift steps and giggles, any worries you had slip away with the wind. The feeling of his lips linger on yours every second it passes, every breath you take, every step forward until you stop at an intersection and Mingyu pulls you into him again.
The walk blends between kisses and hand squeezes to check if youâre in a dream or not. You never want to back away from his hold ever again, but as your building materializes in front of you, you're forced to take your hand off the hem of his shirt.
The elevatorâs wall hits your back as soon as the automatic doors let you in, barely giving you time to push your floorâs button before Mingyuâs over you again. His mouth takes yours with a hunger that grows every second youâre not inside your apartment. Heâs losing control, succumbing to his desires the more you show your want for him.
By some way, your tangled bodies manage to reach your door, though Mingyuâs hands refusing to stop going over your hips and waist are the challenge to overcome. Your fingers tremble trying to turn the key the right way, your nervous system focusing on the lips kissing every inch of the side of your neck he can reach and his fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your top.
As soon as you close the door behind you, the reality closes in on you. With Mingyuâs arms wrapping around your waist again, the bag you forgot you were holding dropping onto the floor with a thud, and the bright lights in your apartment making everything clear.
Mingyu notices your sudden hesitation and stands before you, worried eyes studying you, looking for any sign to tell him what's happening in your mind.
âI made you get in a fight with your best friend," Your reminder is like a dagger against the silence.
âIs that what's bothering you?â His eyes find yours and understand immediately. âWe're fine,â He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, âhe actually encouraged me to come tonight.â
Your eyes widen with hope, leaning into his touch when he doesn't retrieve his hand from the side of your face. âDid you guysââ
âWe talked,â Mingyu's voice explains so softly, one wouldn't think he was just making you gasp with that same mouth on yours, âand I told him he should apologize to you.â
Standing in the middle of your entrance hallway, you feel stupid for even bringing that up. He wouldn't be here with you if he felt guilty. He wouldn't be cupping your face in his hands, making you look up to him to find the glimmer in his eyes outshining every light source in the room.
âAnd youâre sure about this?â What âthisâ means, youâre not sure either.
âI've never been more sure about anything.â Your breath hitches at his answer, your body noticeably frozen as you look for a non-existent lie in his eyes. âMaybe we should take things slow, let you figure out what you want.â
Before he can back away from your personal space, you react. âNo, no, I want this too. I want you.â
Those words coming out of your mouth combined with your hands gripping his shirt to keep him in place quickly make Mingyu regret his previous statement. You're so close, too close to him, saying you want him with your eyes dark and wide.
Mingyuâs hands stay on you, caressing the side of your face as if he was debating whether to give in and kiss you again or do the rational thing. Yours, instead, find the first button at the end of the all too well fitting shirt Mingyuâs wearing, and start unbuttoning it one by one.
âI should take you out on a real date first," Mingyu maintains with a sigh, but not stopping you in your quest.
âI personally think,â at his unmoving body, you take a step closer, with your hands against his chest not daring to sneak under the welcoming fabric, âweâre past that, donât you think?â
For a second, Mingyu thinks youâll be able to feel the rapid beating of his heart, stronger with each second your hands lay on his chest. Rationality is losing the fight against his desire.
âJust making sure this isnât a rebound situation,â Mingyu blurts, even if he doesnât really care about it for himself. Heâd take whatever you give him.
âYou arenât a rebound. This isnât a revenge plot.â You think for a second before you continue, âYou saw me cry way too many times and were there for me at my weakest. You make me feel seen, wanted, and getting to know you has made my life better in ways I couldâve never imagined.â
Your words go through Mingyu's ears and right into his bloodstream, getting warmer and warmer the closer you get. His hands go down your body, encouraging you to move forward until your chests touch.
âI needed you even before I knew what I needed.â You can sense the tears beginning to build up, but you push through. He has to know. âI know what I want now, and itâs you.â
âIf this is a dream, I never wanna wake up,â every word Mingyu says comes with a widening smile.
You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck with confidence, âI can assure you, it's not.â
As if you've been getting chased by your feelings all this time, putting it into words and letting it all out works, and your brain stops racing. You can finally breathe, think, see.
âSo, was that a no about the date?â As always, Mingyu manages to make you chuckle again, and it reverberates all across both your bodies. Every shiver of his, you feel, with the minimal skin to skin contact against his barely uncovered chest and the tiniest top you found to put on.
âYou can take me on a date another day. Now, I want something else.â You don't know where all this confidence is coming from, but seeing the shock in Mingyu's eyes, it only grows. âYou okay with that?â
âIâll give you anything you want.â
The space between your faces charges with electricity as you take in his words. An unconscious bite on your lower lip pulls his gaze down, egging him to close the space slowly. You almost donât register his advance, focusing on the part of his lips that were just on yours minutes ago.
Thereâs nothing more to be said, no invisible walls to tear down, only you and him and the pull between you, pushing you closer until your breaths mix. After all the obstacles you overcame, and the bumps that lead you to where you are now, thereâs no more time to waste.
When your heads meet again, your tingling lips mold against Mingyuâs for the thousandth time, worried about nothing and wanting it all. And he doesnât hold back either. His hands on your waist venture up inside your top, feeling your back tense at his touch as the fabric crumples up, leaving more of you exposed to him.
You canât hide your craving for him any longer. You follow his rhythm eagerly, making a mess of his hair between your fingers and pushing him further against you. Every touch of his makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your jaw and neck. His hands and lips everywhere.
âMight as well just take this off.â Mingyuâs lips print a smirk on the sensitive skin of your neck before pulling back. You get what he means immediately as he tugs on your top, taking it off you as soon as you put your arms up.
His hands feel your chest up to his liking, getting to know the places that make you sigh into his mouth. Every touch of his fingers makes that spot light up like fire, and every sound you make encourages Mingyu more and more.
Your hands sneak under his opened shirt, feeling the firmness of his chest directly elicits a groan from Mingyu, making you shiver as you slip the fabric down his arms.
Mingyu slots between your legs effortlessly, a low moan coming from him as his hardening length grinds softly on the crevice between your limbs. His golden skin that was the star of your every dream, finally at your reach, soft and warm under the pads of your fingers.
âGyuââ Words choke up on your throat as you feel his lips wrapping around one of your nipples.
âYou're gorgeous,â His lips against your chest makes you halt your movements, mind focused solely on him, âso pretty, only for me.â
It's almost as if he was talking to himself, but you moan at every compliment, arching your back for more of him. And he loves it. Loves the way you react to the stream of thoughts that run around his brain every time he looks at you.
âFuck!â The curse leaves you both in unison when Mingyu finds his digits against your core.
âI barely even touched you and you're already ready for me?â Mingyu feels your reaction to his words first hand as a wave of arousal hits you.
âFuck you,â you gasp and he chuckles, kissing down your torso until heâs facing your core.
âI'll take care of you, don't worry, baby.â His breath fans at your wet folds, so close to where you want him but still teasing you with his fingers.
Youâre about to fight back when you feel him teasing at your opening, his eyes entranced by how ready you are for him. All the anticipation, the tension between you from the past weeks, culminating at once at this very moment.
The slickness leaking out of you from all the kissing and groping makes it easy for him to set the pace. Mingyuâs fingers stretch your insides with expertise, as if he learned every spot of yours to touch to have you squirming.
The torturously slow thrusts of his fingers drive you crazy, curling and hitting exactly where you need them before heâs pulling back. You donât hold your sounds back, your every reaction letting Mingyu know how good he makes you feel.
âThatâs it, baby,â His low voice sets fire to the blood rushing through your veins, and your walls clamp harder around his fingers.
Your knuckles turn white as you grip the sheets below you, and Mingyuâs other hand has to hold your thighs apart so you donât close them around his head.
âMingyuâshit!â His lips leave a trail of breathy kisses on your inner thigh, trying to help you relax and take him in, but ultimately turning you on further. âGyu, wait.â
âI love that youâre calling me that.â He listens and stops thrusting, leaving his fingers to fully fit inside you.
âI need you.â Youâre not embarrassed to say what you want. Not with him.
âBut you have me?â He tries to tease, but youâre ahead of him already and immediately correct yourself.
âInside.â His fingers adjust themselves inside you, almost making you forget what you were asking for. âI need you to fuck me.â
Mingyu chuckles at your neediness, but you know he wants it just as bad. His rock hard length draws your attention as he stands up and retrieves his wet digits from you, leaking and ready to split you in half.
Thereâs a second of hesitation as he looks at you splayed on the bed, as ready for him as he is for you. You recognize the train of thought going through him and stretch your arm to open the drawer below your nightstand, where you keep condoms just in case.
Itâs sinful, the sight of Mingyu rolling down the condom as his eyes rake up and down your body. When he kneels on the mattress, fitting like a glove between your legs, it takes another kiss of his on each of your spent legs for you to realize that whatâs happening is real.
Caged between both of his arms, his hands holding his weight on both sides of your head, your legs wrap around his waist and push him inside you, at last.
His length fits inside you, opening up your walls to mold to his shape as you both moan.
Your hips collide as he hits your deepest parts. âBeing inside you is gonna kill me.â You can feel the twitching of his cock deep inside you. He paused to let you get used to his size, but the last thing you want to do is wait.
âIâm gonna kill you if you donât move.â
Youâve learned teasing him works wonders, and as soon as those words leave your lips, heâs complying with what you ask of him. âWhatever my princess wants.â
Whatever thoughts you had, they fade at the drag of his length deliciously making you his with each thrust. Deep and slow, he lets you feel everything he has to give before almost pulling out.
The skin of his back becomes the victim of your scratches, your nails digging into his tense muscles with every grind of his hips. But no matter what you do, how you touch him, how loudly you moan, his pace remains at the same torturing speed.
âRelax, baby.â A hand caresses the side of your face, and you realize youâd shut your eyes closed at the feeling of him pushing inside you.
Mingyu lowers his head, flushing your chests together again as he kisses you softly, matching the pace of his thrusts with his tongue tangling with yours. He drinks every sound you make, as they are only for him, and lowers his hand down your torso until it meets your connected cores.
Your sensitive clit feels like fire under the touch of his fingers, circling around it to help you ease up the tension. âThatâs it, baby, taking me so well.â
Everywhere he reaches becomes your new favorite place for him to touch. From your lips, down to your cunt, and all the way inside you, everywhere now has his name written. Youâre his.
The pulsing of your walls around him doesnât cease, becoming quicker and harder the more he continues with the slow pace. Your insides wait for every intoxicating thrust as if starved of him, craving everything he gives you and more.
His lips move on yours, parted and unable to work, mumbling praise you donât get to hear as every one of your senses focuses on the fire inside you threatening to burst. Mingyuâs hips falter, having trouble thrusting inside you as you tighten impossibly tighter around him.
Your vision turns white as your orgasm explodes without so much as a warning. Your legs tremble around Mingyuâs pistoning hips, thrusting endlessly searching for his release.
Mingyuâs broad body falls limp on you as his length twitches, coming inside the condom with a groan while your walls hug him tight.
You lay under him happily, a smile on your face as you stare at the ceiling. He feels warm all around you, a feeling you could get used to. Mingyu canât resist it and kisses you again. Heâll take every opportunity he can get to feel your lips on his.
âWhat's on your mind?â He asks, eyes locking in to yours as he slips out from you before attacking your lips again.
You both smile in the kiss before he stands up to discard the used condom and put his boxers back on. âJust thinking where you can take me on our date.â
He turns around with a glowing smile. âYouâre thinking about that already?â
The way he lays down on your bed with you, naturally wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to him, feels like a dream come true.
âOf course, baby, I always think ahead.â You note the way he blushes when you use that nickname on him and snuggle against him.
Listening to Mingyuâs steady breathing and heartbeat under your ear, drifting to sleep has never been easier.Â
Youâve been on countless dates with him already, but you still feel nervous having him sit by your side in the booth. Still get embarrassed when he asks for a big smoothie with two straws for you both.
You donât see a future where you donât get nervous around him, but heâs always there. A future without him wouldnât be life at all. And the best thing is, Mingyu feels the same way.
âAre you sure theyâre coming?â You ask as your eyes drift to the glass door for the tenth time in the past five minutes.
âI promise they are!â Minguy takes your jaw in his fingers to make you look at him. âRemember to not say anything about the apartment. He'll as her when he's readyâ
âWhat are you talking about?â You ask, feigning cluelessness, and Mingyu chuckles before giving you a peck.
Detaching your lips is always the hardest chore. But after a few awkward instances where you let your kisses deepen in public, you both decided to control yourselves, even in a secluded booth like the one youâre currently in.
Mingyuâs eyes light up watching the street from the window youâre sitting against, and you turn around to see the people youâve been waiting for.Â
Jungkook and Cathlyn walk inside the store holding hands and with matching smiles on their faces as they greet you. How Mingyu convinced them to go out on a double date with you still astonishes you, but youâre glad everything that happened could finally be put behind you.
It was hard at first, even after Jungkook apologized to you, you didnât dare go inside their apartment for months until Mingyu moved in with you a few weeks ago.
As soon as they sit in front of you, the plan youâve been scheming starts. Your eyes lock with Mingyuâs and he instantly realizes what you're about to do, but not even his hand squeezing your thigh under the table can stop you. âSo, Jungkook, what are you going to do now that you live in the apartment alone?â
note: it's finally here!!!
thank you all for being so excited this past month and for reading this monster of a fic i somehow came up with.
if you reached the end, just know that i love you, and i'd love to hear your thoughts <3
Weightlifting | Helping Mingyu get rid of frustration in the gym
Pairing: boyfriend!Mingyu x girlfriend!reader
Established relationship, smut, (fluff)
You only went to check on your boyfriend during his workout. One minute youâre comforting a sulky Mingyu, the next his hands are on your waist and his mouth is crashing against yours. Turns out all that pent-up irritation needs a different kind of release. What could possibly go wrong when your strong, sweaty boyfriend decides youâre the only workout he needs now?
Wc:~3.8k
Warnings: frustrated mingyu, unprotected sex, rough sex (on a weight bench), p in v, oral f receiving, fingering, dirty talk, creampie, multiple orgasms, mirror sex (kinda)
A/N: those pics of mingyu working out make me so feral it's crazy (the arms omg)
You padded softly down the basement stairs of the house you shared with Mingyu, the cool wooden steps familiar under your bare feet. The air grew warmer as you descended, carrying the faint scent of clean sweat and the metallic tang of iron weights. It was late afternoon, sunlight filtering through the small high windows in narrow golden beams that cut across the home gym Mingyu had set up with so much pride.
He had turned one of the larger basement rooms into his personal sanctuary shortly after you two moved in together: mirrors lining one wall, a rack of neatly organized dumbbells and plates, a treadmill in the corner and the centerpiece: the adjustable weight bench with its sturdy black padding and chrome frame. Mingyu called it his "little kingdom" and on most days, it was filled with the rhythmic clank of metal and his occasional triumphant grunts.
Today, though, the sounds were different.
You paused at the bottom of the stairs, tilting your head. Instead of the steady rhythm of reps, you heard a heavy sigh, followed by the dull thud of a barbell being racked with more force than necessary. Then silence, broken only by his low muttering. "...come on, what the hell..."
Your heart tugged a little. Mingyu had been training hard this week, preparing for a upcoming photoshoot and some dance practices that required him to stay in peak condition. He was always disciplined, but he was also kind to himself on most off days. Something felt off today.
You stepped into the room quietly, your oversized t-shirt (one of his, of course) brushing against your thighs. He was sitting on the edge of the bench, elbows on his knees, head hanging low so that his damp dark hair fell forward, hiding his eyes. His grey tank top clung to his broad chest and shoulders, darkened with sweat along the collar and under his arms. The veins in his forearms stood out prominently from the effort heâd already put in. His black shorts rode up slightly on his thighs and even in frustration, the sight of him made warmth bloom in your belly.
But right now, it wasnât desire that hit you first, it was concern.
"Mingyu?" you called softly, not wanting to startle him.
His head snapped up. For a split second, his handsome face brightened at the sight of you, those sharp eyes softening, the corners of his lips twitching toward a smile. Then the frustration settled back in, clouding his expression like a shadow.
"Hey, baby" he said, voice a little rough from exertion. He tried to sound casual, wiping his face with the small towel draped over his shoulder. "Didnât hear you come down."
You crossed the room, the rubber mats cool and springy under your feet. Stopping in front of him, you reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. His skin was warm, flushed from the workout.
"I brought you some water and a protein shake" you said, holding up the bottle and shaker youâd prepared upstairs. "Figured you might be getting thirsty after... how long have you been down here?"
He took the water with a grateful nod but didnât open it right away. Instead, he set it on the floor beside the bench. "Couple hours. Lost track."
You glanced at the barbell still loaded on the rack above the bench. The plates looked heavier than what he usually warmed up with on chest day. From the way the bench was adjusted and the sweat soaking through his shirt, heâd clearly been pushing hard.
"Everything okay?" you asked gently, stepping between his spread knees so you could cup his face with both hands. Your thumbs stroked along his sharp jawline. "You sound... frustrated."
Mingyu let out a short, humorless laugh and leaned into your touch for a moment before pulling back slightly. He ran a hand through his messy hair, pushing it back.
"I canât lift for shit today" he admitted, voice low and edged with annoyance. "Bench press, my usual working weight feels like itâs doubled. I barely got through three reps without my form going to hell. Shoulders are burning already, and my chest just... wonât activate right. Itâs like my body decided to betray me out of nowhere."
You frowned, glancing at the bar again. Mingyu was incredibly strong; he prided himself on his consistency. He followed a solid five-day split, hitting chest, back, shoulders, arms and legs with focused intensity. Off days happened, but he rarely let them rattle him this much.
"Maybe itâs just an off day" you offered, keeping your tone light and soothing. You knew how he could get when his perfectionist side kicked in. "Youâve been going hard all week. The photoshoot prep, those extra dance rehearsals... your body might just need a break."
He shook his head, jaw tightening. "I donât have time for off days. The shoot is in ten days. I need to look sharp, defined, strong. Not like I slacked off." His gaze dropped to his own arms, flexing one unconsciously as if testing it. The muscle popped impressively, but he scowled anyway. "Feels weak. Like Iâm back to rookie levels or something. Pathetic."
The self-criticism in his voice made your chest ache. This was classic Mingyu, the guy who was confident and playful most of the time, the one who could light up any room with his bright smile and easy laughter, but who also held himself to impossibly high standards. He was husband material through and through: attentive, protective, always making sure you were taken care of. But when it came to himself, especially his body and performance, he could be his own harshest critic.
You slid your hands down to his shoulders, feeling the tension knotted there. "Hey. Look at me."
He did, reluctantly. Those warm brown eyes met yours, frustration in them alongside a hint of vulnerability he rarely showed anyone else.
"You are not weak" you said firmly, squeezing his delts. "Youâre human. Even Mingyu Kim gets tired sometimes. Remember last month when you pulled that muscle during leg day and still tried to power through? You took two rest days and came back stronger. This is the same thing."
He sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. The contact was warm and grounding. "I know. Logically, I know. But it pisses me off. I was supposed to hit a new PR on incline today. Instead, Iâm racking the bar like a beginner after six reps. My mindâs in it, but the muscles just arenât cooperating."
You carded your fingers through his damp hair, massaging his scalp lightly. He hummed softly at the touch, some of the tension easing from his broad frame. Being this close, you could smell his familiar scent: clean sweat mixed with the faint woody cologne he always wore, even to the gym.
"Want me to spot you on the next set?" you offered, though you both knew you couldnât actually handle his heavy loads. It was more about the gesture.
Mingyu chuckled against your shirt, the sound vibrating through you. "Youâd get crushed, baby. Cute offer, though."
You smiled and tilted his chin up again. "Then talk to me. Whatâs really bothering you? Is it just the weights, or is there more?"
He was quiet for a long moment, thumbs absently tracing circles on the backs of your thighs where his hands had settled. "Itâs stupid. The companyâs been riding everyone about visuals lately. With the comeback preparations overlapping with solo schedules... I just want to feel in control, you know? Like I can push my body and it listens. Today itâs not. Makes me feel... off. Like Iâm letting myself down."
Your heart swelled with affection. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, then one to the tip of his nose and finally a lingering one on his lips. He kissed you back gently, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.
"Youâre not letting anyone down" you whispered against his mouth. "Least of all me. I love you exactly like this: sweaty, frustrated and still the strongest, kindest man I know."
Mingyuâs lips curved into a small, genuine smile at that. "You always know what to say." He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist so you were half-sitting on one of his thighs. The muscle flexed beneath you, solid and warm. "Thanks for coming down. I was just sitting here sulking like an idiot."
"Not an idiot" you corrected, nuzzling into his neck. "Just my big, dramatic boyfriend who thinks the world ends if he canât bench 130 kilos today."
He laughed properly then, the rich sound filling the gym and chasing away the last of the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, it was 135 last month. Donât sell me short."
You grinned, happy to see the spark return to his eyes. For the next twenty minutes, you stayed with him, handing him lighter weights when he decided to switch to accessory work, counting reps out loud in an exaggerated cheerleader voice that made him roll his eyes and laugh, and stealing kisses between sets. He did some lighter dumbbell presses, focusing on form and mind-muscle connection rather than ego-lifting. You could see the frustration gradually melting as he moved, your presence a steady anchor.
At one point, he pulled you onto his lap fully while he rested between sets, his large hands splaying across your back under the t-shirt. "Youâre too good to me" he murmured, voice softer now. "I donât deserve how patient you are when I get like this."
"You deserve everything" you replied, tracing the line of his collarbone with a fingertip. "And I love taking care of you. Even when youâre being a grumpy gym rat."
He squeezed your hips playfully. "Careful. Calling me grumpy might get you in trouble later."
The teasing glint in his eye sent a little thrill through you, but you kept things light for now.
Eventually, Mingyu stood, stretching his arms overhead with a groan. His tank top rode up, revealing the defined V of his hips and the trail of dark hair disappearing into his shorts. You tried not to stare too obviously.
"Think Iâm done for today" he announced, wiping down the bench with a spray and cloth. "No point forcing it and risking injury. Tomorrowâs a new day."
You nodded approvingly, helping him rack the lighter plates. "Smart choice. How about we head upstairs? Iâll make you that chicken breast you like and we can watch something dumb on TV."
Mingyu turned to you, pulling you into a full hug this time. His body enveloped yours completely: tall, broad and radiating heat. "Sounds perfect. But first..." He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a deeper kiss than before. It started sweet but lingered, his tongue brushing yours just enough to promise more. When he pulled back, his voice had dropped an octave. "Thanks for grounding me, baby. Really."
You smiled up at him, heart full. "Always."
You didnât even make it up the stairs.
Mingyuâs arm was still slung around your shoulders when he suddenly stopped at the threshold of the gym, turning you gently but firmly back toward the room. The overhead lights hummed softly, casting a warm glow over the mirrors and equipment. His body heat radiated against your side and when you looked up at him, the frustration that had clouded his face earlier had shifted into something darker, hungrier.
"Actually" he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges "Iâm not ready to go upstairs yet."
Before you could ask why, his large hand cupped the back of your neck and he pulled you into a kiss that stole the air from your lungs.
It wasnât the soft, comforting press of lips from earlier. This kiss was deep, demanding, laced with all the pent-up energy he hadnât been able to burn off with iron. His mouth moved against yours with purpose, tongue sliding in to taste you as if he needed this more than oxygen. You gasped softly into the kiss, hands coming up to grip his damp tank top, fingers curling into the fabric stretched tight over his chest.
Mingyu groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you. He walked you backward without breaking the kiss until your back met the cool mirrored wall. The contrast of cold glass against your heated skin made you shiver. His body pressed flush against yours, solid, towering, every hard-earned muscle molded to your softer curves.
"Fuck, baby" he breathed against your lips when he finally pulled back just enough to speak. His forehead rested against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark. "You coming down here, being all sweet and patient with me⊠itâs driving me crazy in a different way now."
Your heart raced. You could feel the shift in him, the frustration from his failed lifts transforming into raw, restless need. His hands roamed down your sides, slipping under the hem of his oversized top you wore, palms hot against your bare waist.
"MingyuâŠ" you whispered, but it came out more like a plea.
He kissed you again, harder this time, one thigh sliding between your legs to press up against your core. The thick muscle flexed deliberately and even through the thin fabric of your panties, the pressure sent sparks shooting up your spine. You moaned softly, grinding down instinctively.
"Thatâs it" he murmured, lips trailing along your jaw to your ear. "Let me hear you. Been thinking about this since you walked in looking so fucking cute in my shirt."
His words sent heat flooding between your thighs. You tilted your head to give him better access and he took full advantage, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot just below your ear before nipping it gently. One of his hands slid higher under your shirt, cupping your breast and thumbing over your nipple until it pebbled under his touch. The other hand gripped your hip, guiding your movements as you rocked against his thigh.
The gym felt smaller suddenly, the air thicker. The scent of his sweat mixed with the faint smell of rubber mats and metal. In the mirror beside you, you caught glimpses of the two of you: his broad back flexing, your legs parted around his thigh, his dark hair messy from your fingers.
Mingyu pulled back just enough to tug your shirt up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere behind him. You stood in just your panties now, the cool air kissing your skin. His eyes raked over you hungrily, pupils blown wide.
"God, youâre beautiful" he said, voice reverent even as his hands were anything but gentle. He palmed both breasts, squeezing and rolling your nipples between his fingers until you whimpered. "All mine."
You reached for his tank top, yanking it upward. He helped you, peeling it off and revealing the glistening expanse of his torso: defined pecs, ridged abs, the deep cuts of his obliques leading down to the waistband of his shorts. Sweat still clung to his skin, making every muscle shine under the lights. Even frustrated with his workout, he looked like a god.
Your hands explored him greedily, tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. When your fingers dipped lower, brushing over the bulge straining against his shorts, he hissed through his teeth.
"Careful" he warned, though his hips bucked forward into your touch. "Iâm already on edge."
"Good" you whispered, squeezing him through the fabric. "Let it out. Use me to get rid of all that frustration."
Something snapped in his gaze. With a low growl, Mingyu lifted you effortlessly, those strong arms that had struggled with the barbell earlier now wrapping around your thighs as he carried you the few steps to the weight bench. He set you down on the padded surface, the leather cool against your heated skin. The bench was still slightly angled from his earlier incline presses, perfect for what he clearly had in mind.
He stood between your spread legs, looking down at you like you were his favorite meal. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he leaned down to kiss you again: messy, wet, tongues tangling. Then he dropped to his knees on the rubber mat, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders.
"Mingyu-" you started, but the words died in a sharp moan when his mouth found your core through the thin panties. He licked a broad stripe up the fabric, tasting your arousal, before pulling the material aside with his teeth. The first direct touch of his tongue against your clit had your back arching off the bench.
He ate you out like a man starved: long, slow licks followed by quick flicks, sucking your clit into his mouth and humming in satisfaction at the way you cried out. Two thick fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling expertly against that spot that made stars burst in front of your eyes. His free hand pressed down on your lower stomach, holding you in place as you squirmed.
"Fuck, youâre so wet already" he groaned against your folds, the vibrations making you clench around his fingers. "All this just from comforting your frustrated boyfriend? So good for me."
You couldnât form words, only broken moans and his name falling from your lips like a prayer. He worked you relentlessly, fingers pumping faster, tongue never letting up. The wet sounds of his mouth on you filled the gym, obscene and intoxicating. Your hands fisted in his hair, hips bucking up to meet every thrust of his tongue.
When the coil in your belly tightened unbearably, he sensed it, doubling his efforts until you shattered with a cry. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, thighs trembling around his head as he licked you through it, drawing out every last pulse.
You were still panting, boneless, when he rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His shorts tented obscenely, a dark wet spot forming at the front from his own leaking arousal. He shoved them down along with his boxers in one motion, his cock springing free: thick, long, flushed dark at the tip and already glistening.
Mingyu stroked himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours. "Need you. Now."
You nodded eagerly, reaching for him. He climbed onto the bench with you, the frame creaking slightly under his weight but holding steady. The bench was narrow, forcing your bodies to press tightly together. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit until you whined.
Then he pushed in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open. The fullness was overwhelming in the best way. When he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, breathing hard.
"Shit⊠so tight. Always so perfect for me."
He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move: deep, powerful thrusts that rocked the bench beneath you. Each snap of his hips drove him impossibly deeper, the angle of the inclined bench hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the mirrors, mixed with your moans and his low grunts.
Mingyuâs pace was relentless, frustration and need pouring out of him with every thrust. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, angling you exactly how he wanted. Sweat dripped from his hair onto your chest as he leaned over you, mouth latching onto one nipple and sucking hard while he pounded into you.
"Take it, baby" he growled against your skin. "Take all my frustration. Let me fuck it out on this pretty pussy."
You cried out, nails raking down his back, leaving red lines across his shoulders. The pleasure built again, fast and intense, your walls fluttering around his thick length. He shifted slightly, one foot planted on the floor for better leverage, driving into you even harder.
The bench creaked rhythmically beneath you. In the mirror across the room, you watched the reflection, his powerful body moving over yours, muscles flexing with every thrust, your legs wrapped high around his waist. The sight alone pushed you closer to the edge.
Mingyu reached between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles. "Come on, cum for me again. Want to feel you squeezing my cock."
You shattered a second time, vision whiting out as your orgasm ripped through you. Your walls clenched rhythmically around him, pulling a deep moan from his chest.
"Fuck...yes, just like that..." He fucked you through it, pace faltering as his own release built. His thrusts grew erratic, deeper, chasing his high. "Gonna fill you up. Gonna cum so deep..."
With a broken groan of your name, Mingyu buried himself to the hilt and came hard. You felt the hot pulses of his release inside you, his hips stuttering as he rode it out, grinding against you to prolong the pleasure.
For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the lights. Mingyu collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you with his full weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His cock was still twitching inside you, softening slowly.
You stroked his back gently, fingers tracing the sweat-slick muscles. "Feel better?" you asked softly, voice hoarse.
He let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lazy kiss to your throat. "So much better. Youâre magic, you know that?"
You smiled, turning your head to kiss his temple. "Anytime you need to work out frustrationâŠthe bench is right here."
Mingyu lifted his head, eyes sparkling with a mix of satisfaction and renewed mischief despite the exhaustion. "Careful. I might take you up on that every off day."
He kissed you slowly, tenderly this time, deep and lingering, full of love rather than raw need. When he finally pulled out, a trickle of his cum followed and he watched it with dark fascination before grabbing his discarded towel to gently clean you both.
The two of you stayed on the bench for a while longer, tangled together in the afterglow. He pulled you half on top of his chest, one arm wrapped securely around you while the other hand stroked your hair. The gym, which had started the afternoon filled with his frustration, now felt warm and intimate.
"Love you" he whispered against your hair.
"Love you more" you replied, pressing a kiss to his pec.
Eventually, the sweat started to cool on your skin and Mingyu chuckled. "Okay, now we can go upstairs. Shower together?"
You nodded, but neither of you moved right away. The bench had served its purpose today, not just for lifting weights, but for lifting the weight off his mind.
Summary: Mingyu was preparing for a divorce when he began to sense that something was wrong with his wife.
Mingyu hadnât been home since yesterdayâor maybe since the day before that. He stopped counting after the fight, the kind that didnât end with slammed doors but with silence, thickening the wall that had been building between you for over a year. He chose to stay in his humble studio, surrounded by paintings never meant for the worldâonly for him to face. Each canvas stared back in accusation, as if every unfinished stroke was cursing him.
You didnât callâyou never did, and he told himself it was because you had stopped caring. You chose that, and Mingyu found it unbearably hurtful. Sometimes, when his gaze lingered on the band wrapped around his finger, he thought of youâthe version of you who loved him fiercely, who would have done anything for him. And when you stopped doing that, when you stopped caring, something in him made a quiet decision: he needed to protect himself.
Kim Mingyu was an aspiring painter when he met you. You were radiant the moment you walked into the meeting room, introducing yourself as the curator of the gallery where his work would be displayed. When he heard your name, recognition struck immediatelyâhe knew you were one of them.
And yes. You were the daughter of the former prime minister.
His career flourished with your help. He had always believed his work would reach its peak somedayâand it did. His pieces became widely known, his name circulating through galleries across the world, until Kim Mingyu was no longer just an aspiring painter, but one of the most sought-after artists globally.
âThis is An Angel Who Couldnât Paint.â
He said it the way he introduced all his recent works, calm and practiced. The angel on the canvas was adored by everyoneâsoft wings, gentle lightâyet her expression was unmistakably sad.
You stood beside him as the gallery emptied. Footsteps faded, lights dimmed, until there was no one left but the two of you, both too nervous to be the first to leave. Tomorrow was a big day.
âWhy couldnât it paint?â you asked, turning toward him.
He looked at you then, smiling softly.
âHer family didnât let her.â
Mingyu hadnât expected to win your heart that night. Yet when you looked at himâreally looked at himâit felt like a confession made without words. Your gaze carried an offering, quiet and devastating, as if you were placing your heart in his hands along with your soul, your bones, everything that made you whole.
And yet, here he wasâsitting on the couch with the curtains drawn open, staring into the night with a glass of whiskey in his hand. There was no you here, and lately, there had been no you in his life at all.
The man he was five years ago wouldnât have believed this version of himself if someone had told him: the woman you think you love the most will change. And so will you.
On the table lay a fresh print of the divorce papers, waiting to be signed. Finally. His lawyer had notified him countless timesâabout the plan to divorce you, about how it had been inevitable since the first fight a year ago. But he couldnât bring himself to do it. He had been too naive to understand that the two of you had lost each other long before this moment.
And there was no reason left to stay.
Even your familyâyour powerful, conglomerate familyâcouldnât be the reason he stayed. He was adored there, praised for his easy charm, his manners. But was any of it genuine? Honestly, he no longer knew.
He had witnessed the way your brother-in-law was spoken about behind closed doors, criticized for being too absorbed in his own law firm, for refusing to fold himself into the family company. And Mingyu couldnât forget that one night eitherâthe way your brotherâs wife had broken down during a family gathering, crying quietly because five years of marriage had passed and she still hadnât conceived.
Three years of marriageâto an artist. No children. Would your parents still treat him the same?
*
âIs she with you? We couldnât find her.â
It was late when Mingyu received the call from your parents. He sighed as he pulled on his shirt and coat, grabbing his keys before heading toward their house.
âWe found out you two were fighting,â your mother said gently. âShe came here a week ago. Was it that bad?â
Her voice was soft, but Mingyu could hear the worry beneath it.
âIâll be there, Mother,â he replied, already driving away from his studio.
There were only a few places you might go at this hour to clear your mind. He had lived through this before. When you werenât in bed, when the house felt too quiet, he would find you somewhere close, in the garden, or walking through the neighborhood under the dim streetlights.
âItâs dangerous,â he had told you once, rushing out of the house after realizing you were goneâonly to find you returning, an ice cream melting slowly in your hand.
âI couldnât sleep.â
Mingyu had sighed then, the tension draining from his shoulders.
âWake me up, love,â heâd said softly. âIâll walk with you.â
Mingyu immediately typed out the places where your parentsâ people might find you. He drove carefully, his mind running through scenariosâwhat would happen once he found you, what he would say to your parents afterward.
He sighed again, for what felt like the hundredth time.
Your parents had spoiled you too much.
Mingyu had never been the type to celebrate every moment extravagantlyâif at all. He expressed his gratitude, acknowledged the milestone, and kept moving forward.
Your family, however, lived by a different tradition: everything was celebrated, and always with excess.
Your engagement was meant to be intimate. Instead, your parents insisted on renting out a hotel ballroom, inviting nearly everyone they knewâmost of whom Mingyu didnâtâand turning the day into a spectacle.
The wedding was no different. Whatever imagination he had left of a small ceremonyâone with only the closest people presentâdisappeared the moment your parents took over the planning. A grand venue. An expensive dress. Hundreds of invitations, while his side amounted to barely ten.
They loved you. And they loved spoiling you.
He tried calling your phone as he drove toward the park near your parentsâ houseâthe one you used to run to as a child whenever your parents fought or your siblings became too much. You didnât answer. Not once.
Mingyu parked the car and immediately scanned the area, his steps quick and restless as he searched the park. He called your name a few times, voice cutting through the night, but there was no sign of youâonly a group of teenagers smoking near the benches. When he asked if they had seen a woman walking alone, they shook their heads, irritation clear in their faces.
He called your parentsâ security team next. They hadnât found you near the lake eitherâthe place you had mentioned before, half in passing.
âCheck the gazebos too,â he told them. They moved at once.
He started running then. He wasnât sure whyâwhether it was the need to find you quickly so he could take you back to your parents, or simply to end the search and the fear gnawing at his chest.
He exhaled sharply when he spotted a familiar figure walking ahead. His pace slowed without thinking, steps cautious now as he drew closer.
âJi Y/nâŠâ
As if summoned, you turned your head at the sound of your name.
âKim Mingyu..â
âWhy are you here at this hour?â Mingyu asked, breath still uneven from the run.
You didnât answer right away. Your gaze drifted past him, circling the trees, the dim lamps, the path beneath your feetâuntil something in your expression shifted, like recognition arriving late.
âI was just out for air.â
Mingyu swallowed. âYour parents called me because they couldnât find you. I thought we were done talking about thisââ
He stopped himself too late, only then realizing the edge in his voice.
âDonât yell at me.â
The words were quiet, but they landed heavy.
Mingyu exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. âIâm not,â he said, softer now. âLetâs go home.â
He reached out, fingers closing around your wrist. You looked down at his hand. Then back up at him.
âWhich home?â
He froze.
For a moment, the park seemed too quietâno wind, no footsteps, no distant traffic. Mingyu loosened his grip and turned to face you fully.
âOur home.â he said.
The two of you walked toward his car in silence. Mingyu moved a few steps ahead, hands shoved into his pockets, mind already elsewhere. It wasnât until he reached the door and turned back that he realizedâ
You were wearing nothing but a thin sleeping dress and with no shoes. Bare feet touching the cold pavement.
He cursed under his breath.
Mingyu shrugged off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders, movements careful now, almost hesitant. âWhere are your shoes?â he asked, already sighing as he opened the passenger door for you.
You stared at the ground, brows knitting together as if the answer were buried somewhere just out of reach.
âI donât know,â you said quietly.
As Mingyu got into the driverâs seat, his eyes drifted back to you. Only then did he notice the bruises and dirt smudged along your feet, as if you had been running barefoot long before he found you. His jaw tightened.
He called your mother and spoke quietly.
âSheâs with me now. Sheâs safe.â
A pause.
âIâm taking her home.â
Another pause, heavier this time.
âIâm sorry for the inconvenience.â
You leaned back against the seat, exhaustion overtaking you as your eyelids fluttered shut. Sleep claimed you quickly, as if your body had been waiting for permission to rest.
Mingyu sighed and started the engine, guiding the car back toward the house. A place the two of you used to call home.
*
Mingyu entered your home office after months of doing nothing more than walking past it. It was one of the rooms you treasured mostâa space you had insisted on keeping for yourself when your father was choosing the house you would live in after the wedding.
You were already asleep in the bedroom after tonightâs walk. He had carried you in from the car, careful and slow, yet you hadnât stirred at all. It surprised him. You had always been a light sleeper.
He stood by the bed for a moment before leaving, watching you breathe, watching the familiar rise and fall of your chest. You were still you when you sleptâsoft, unchanged, untouched by the distance that had grown between you.
But when you were awake? He realized with a quiet ache, he had started to hate that version of you.
He closed the door of your office and stepped inside with a carefulness only a cautious husband could muster. Once, he had never knocked. He would barge in without warning, a photograph of a new painting already in his hand, words tumbling over one another as he spilled every concept crowding his mind.
âIt must be nice to be a genius,â you would say, leaning back in your chair, eyes warm as you smiled at him.
âIâm far from a genius, love,â Mingyu would reply shyly, brushing off the compliment even though you both knew he enjoyed it.
âIâm just good.â
You would laugh thenâsoft and unguarded. It had been a beautiful, gentle love. One he realized how much he missed.
He sat in your chair, its familiarity unsettling, and wondered how busy you had been lately. You barely stayed in the house anymore, choosing instead to live with your parents. He told himself it was practicalâthe gallery was closer to their place. A project, maybe. An exhibition.
He used to witness the way your eyes lit up when you worked, the passion that consumed you so completely.
Since when had he started to hate your work?
It was your work that had once lifted his name, carried him into rooms he never imagined entering. But nowânow it felt like nothing more than the current pulling the two of you farther apart.
The next morning, Mingyu sat by the counter after a night without a wink of sleep. He had meant to rest on the couch, but his body never followed his intentions. His thoughts wandered everywhere except toward rest.
A cup of coffee sat untouched beside him. Freshly brewed. Something he used to miss every time he stayed away. Coffee in his own house used to feel grounding. Familiar. Safe.
He heard the bedroom door open. He didnât turn. He already knew the questions that would usually followâwhy he drove you home, why he was here, why he crossed a boundary you both had drawn after the last fight. He knew you hated this house now. Hated the two of you existing in the same space.
However, none of that came.
Instead, you stepped into the kitchen in the same thin sleeping dress from the night before. Bare feet against the floor. Your voice came soft, almost fragile.
âMorning.â
Before he could react, your hand rested briefly on his shoulder. Your lips brushed hisâlight, absent, almost instinctive. A peck that lasted less than a second. Months.
That was all it took to freeze him in place.
You moved away as if nothing had happened, opening the fridge, taking out fruits, eggs. Normal. Too normal. As if this was still your routine. As if you hadnât shattered him just now.
âYou want some?â you asked, casual. âI can make you a sandwich too.â
You went on tiptoe to reach a cup.
The sound of a sharp winceâand glass crashing to the floorâsnapped Mingyu back into motion.
âWhatâs wrong?â He was already beside you, hands hovering, instinct kicking in. âCareful. Donât moveâthereâs glass.â
You looked at him for a moment, then down.
Your feet.
Bruised. Scraped. Dirt still clinging faintly to your skinâmarks he had cleaned in silence while you slept.
âI didnât realize it,â you murmured. âWhat happened?â
He didnât answer.
âSit down,â Mingyu said instead, steady but firm. âIâll make your breakfast.â
You didnât argue. You walked away while he cleaned the broken glass, movements practiced, controlledâlike he hadnât spent the entire night watching you breathe, wondering when everything had gone so wrong.
He placed the plate in front of you not long after. Boiled eggs. Fruits. Toast.
Your favorite.
He watched you quietly, already planning to knock some sense into you laterâonce youâd eaten, once the color returned to your face, once he was sure you were really here.
Mingyu waited. Not because he needed time, but because he was afraid that if he spoke too soon, the morning would crack completely. The kettle clicked softly on the counter. Outside, the day went on like nothing inside this house had shifted its axis.
âYou were out last night,â he said slowly, as if pacing the truth would make it easier to swallow. âWhere were you?â
You sat across from him, legs tucked under the chair, toast held loosely between your fingers. You took another bite, chewing carefully, eyes unfocusedânot avoiding him, but not looking either.
âI was home,â you said. âWaiting for you.â
The words landed wrong. Too neat. Too certain.
Mingyu felt his chest tighten. âYou werenât.â
You paused. Just for a second. Then you tilted your head, confused, almost amused by his contradiction. âI fell asleep,â you replied. âI remember sitting there. I mustâve dozed off.â
He searched your face for cracks. For hesitation. For guilt. There was none.
That was when he noticed itâthe darkness beneath your eyes, heavier than fatigue alone. Your skin looked different too. Not sick, not pale. Just⊠muted. Like someone had turned the saturation down little by little and no one had noticed until now.
âWere you high last night?â he asked quietly, the question tasting wrong in his mouth.
Your brows pulled together immediately. âWhat?â
He didnât explain. His mind had already run ahead of him, replaying the night beforeâyour office, untouched. The drawers he opened slowly, the shelves he scanned twice. No medication. No substances. No signs of panic or recklessness. If you had taken something, you had hidden it well. Or it wasnât there at all.
âYou were at your parentsâ house,â he said instead, voice firmer now. âFor a week. They called me. They couldnât find you.â
You blinked.
Once.
Then again.
âReally?â you said, a small laugh slipping out. âI was in my office. Iâve been finishing my work.â
There it was again. That certainty. That calm insistence.
Mingyu stared at you like he was looking at a stranger wearing your face. The way you spoke wasnât defensive. You werenât lying the way people usually liedânot rushed, not evasive. You believed in yourself.
That frightened him more than any argument youâd ever had.
His eyes drifted down unconsciously. To your hands. To the faint tremor you didnât seem to notice. To your bare feet resting against the cold floor, still marked faintly with bruises that hadnât been there before last night.
He followed his own gaze down the hallway, back to your office. On your deskâexactly where he had found it last nightâlay the resignation letter.
Your resignation.
You were going to leave the job you loved most. The one that kept you alive when everything else felt heavy. And he didnât know why.
The question had been drilling into his head since last night, since he folded that paper with hands that wouldnât stop shaking. Why? It followed him to the couch, to the kitchen, to the sound of you saying morning like nothing was wrong.
Why would you give this up?
Was it for him?
For us?
The kitchen suddenly felt too familiar this morningâlike a version of home Mingyu hadnât visited in a long time.
You said it casually. Too casually during breakfast. âMaybeâŠâ you started, as if you were commenting on the weather. âMaybe raising a kid would help us. Change how we see things.â
The words caught him off guard. Mingyu looked up slowly, as if he hadnât heard you right. For a moment, he just stared.
Surprise came firstâsharp and unguarded. His mind scrambled, trying to match this calm version of you with the memory of how firmly you had once said no. How your voice shook, not with anger, but fear. Fear he hadnât understood then and hadnât bothered to ask about since.
Why now?
You werenât looking at him the way you used to when you tried to compromise. There was no hesitation in your posture, no defensive edge. Just a stillness that unsettled him more than anger ever did.
Then came the nervousness.
His fingers curled slightly against the counter, grounding himself. He wondered if this was something you had been thinking about for a while, or if it was something you decided this morningâborn out of exhaustion, out of guilt, out of wanting peace at any cost.
Was this your way of reaching out?
âMaybe raising a kid would help us.â
As if that conversation hadnât torn something apart last year. As if it hadnât ended with silence stretching for months, with him leaving more often, with you learning how to sleep alone in a marriage.
The words hung in the air. You didnât mention the fear. Didnât mention hospitals, or test results, or how your hands had shaken when the doctor spoke too gently. You just stood there, calm on the surface, offering the idea like it hadnât once broken you.
He searched your face for signsâhope, reluctance, sincerityâbut all he found was calm. A calm that scared him more than resistance ever had.
*
Mingyu had once thought it was a coping mechanism. You had this way of waving away guiltâof smoothing things over without ever touching them. Every time a fight stretched too far, too heavy, you would return the next day as if nothing had happened. As if the night before hadnât existed at all.
He first noticed it during your first anniversary. Mingyu had prepared everything himself that night. A quiet dinner, nothing extravagantâjust the two of you, the way he preferred it. The table was set long before the food began to lose its warmth, candles burning lower with every passing minute as he waited.
You were working late at the gallery. At first, he told himself it was fine. You had always been passionate about your workâhe loved that about you. But as the hours passed, as his messages remained unread and your calls went unanswered, something inside him began to tighten.
You had forgotten. Not just the dinner. Not just the time. Him. When you finally came home, the apology came easily from youâtoo easily. Soft, quick, almost practiced. Mingyu had been upset then. Not loudly, not enough to start a war, but enough. He told you to be more mindful. To keep track of time. To think about the person waiting for you. To think about him.
You listened. Nodded. Stayed quiet. He thought it had meant something. But the next morning, you kissed him like you always did. Sat beside him at the breakfast table, close enough for your shoulder to brush against his, asking him something trivialâwhat he wanted to do that day, maybe, or whether he would be at the studio. Your voice was light, untouched, as if the night before had slipped cleanly out of your memory.
Mingyu stared at you, something sharp and burning settling behind his eyes. There was no trace of it. No hesitation. No guilt. No attempt to fix what had been said. Just you. Normal. Warm. Unchanged.
And that was the first time it unsettled him, how easily you could wake up the next day and act as if there had never been anything to fix at all.
The last real fight you hadâbefore everything turned into silenceâwas about a child. It wasnât even supposed to be a fight. Mingyu had brought it up casually that night, almost carefully, like testing the temperature of something fragile. The house had been quiet, the kind of quiet that didnât feel heavy yet. You were sitting across from him, absentmindedly scrolling through something on your phone, half-listening.
âHave you ever thought about it?â he asked.
You looked up. âAbout what?â
âA kid.â
The reaction was immediate. Not loud. Not explosive. But immediate. Your expression changed in a way he couldnât quite name back thenâsomething closing off behind your eyes, something pulling away from him before he could even reach it.
âNo,â you said. Too quick.
Mingyu frowned slightly, leaning back in his chair. âNo?â he repeated, softer this time, like maybe you hadnât understood the question.
âI donât want one.â
There was no hesitation in your voice. No room left for discussion. And thatâmore than the answer itselfâirritated him.
âWhy not?â Mingyu asked, the edge slipping in despite himself. âWeâve been married for three years.â
You let out a small breath, setting your phone down slowly. âBecause I donât want to.â
âThatâs not a reason.â
Your eyes flickered then, something sharper surfacing. âIt is.â
Mingyu exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He wasnât trying to start anything. He justâdidnât understand. âPeople donât just decide they donât want kids for no reason,â he said, voice tightening. âYouâre not even willing to think about it?â
âI have thought about it.â
âThen explain it to me.â
Silence stretched between you for a second too long. When you spoke again, your voice was quieterâbut not softer. âYou wouldnât understand.â
Something in him bristled at that. âTry me.â
You hesitated. And for a momentâjust a momentâhe thought you wouldnât say anything at all. That you would brush it off the way you always did, walk away, let it dissolve into nothing.
But you didnât.
âI donât want my body to change like that,â you said finally.
Mingyu blinked. âWhat?â
âPregnancy,â you continued, more steadily now, even if your fingers had begun to curl slightly against the table. âThe weight gain. The way your body stops feeling like yours. Iâve seen it. Iâveââ You stopped yourself, jaw tightening. âI donât want that.â
He stared at you, the explanation settling wrong in his chest.
âThatâs it?â he asked, before he could stop himself.
Your head snapped up. âThatâs it?â you echoed, something incredulous slipping into your voice now.
Mingyu shook his head slightly, already frustrated. âYouâre saying you donât want a child because youâre scared of gaining weight?â
âItâs not just weight.â
âThen what is it?â he pressed.
You looked at him thenâreally looked at himâand whatever was in your eyes made him falter for half a second.
âExactly,â you said quietly. âYou donât get it.â
The conversation went nowhere after that. It circled. Tightened. Broke in places neither of you tried to fix. Mingyu remembered the way your voice had risenânot loud, but strained, like something was pulling at it from the inside. He remembered the way you kept repeating the same thing in different words, as if you were trying to explain something bigger but couldnât quite bring yourself to say it.
And he remembered how, at some point, he stopped listening. It sounded trivial to him. Avoidable. Something that could be reasoned through if you justâtried. But you didnât.
You shut down instead. And the next morningâthe next morning wasnât normal.
There was no quiet greeting, no soft kiss pressed against his lips like a habit you refused to break. No gentle presence beside him in the kitchen, no small attempt to smooth over what had been said.
Mingyu woke up to silence. The kind that felt wrong the moment he opened his eyes. He found you already dressed, standing by the door with your bag slung over your shoulder. Your shoes were on. Your hand rested on the handle, like you had been about to leave for a while now.
âYouâre going already?â he asked, voice still rough with sleep.
You didnât turn immediately.
âI have work,â you said. Simple. Flat. No mention of last night. No mention of anything.
Mingyu pushed himself up slightly, frowning. âYouâre not going to eat first?â
âIâm not hungry.â
That was it. No pause. No glance back to check if he would say something else. No hesitation in the way you opened the door and stepped out.
The sound of it closing lingered longer than it should have. Mingyu sat there for a while after that, staring at nothing in particular, something unfamiliar settling deep in his chest. It wasnât angerânot fully.
It was something quieter. Colder. And it didnât stop there. Days turned into a pattern he didnât remember agreeing to.
You left early. Came home late. Sometimes not at all. And when you were there, you werenât really there.
Conversations shortened. Then it disappeared. Meals became optional. Shared space became something you both moved around carefully, like stepping through a room filled with fragile things neither of you wanted to touch.
Mingyu stopped asking after a while. Stopped waiting, too. The houseâonce something warm, something groundingâbegan to feel unfamiliar. Too quiet in the wrong ways. Too empty, even when you were inside it.
So he stayed at the studio more often. At first, it was just to work. Then to think. Then, eventually⊠to breathe.
The smell of paint, the unfinished canvases, the silence that didnât expect anything from himâit all felt easier than walking into a home that no longer felt like one.
Somewhere along the way, without either of you saying it out loud, the studio became his place of rest, and the house you shared became somewhere he only returned to out of habit.
*
âWhat is this?â
Mingyu froze at the sound of your voice. He hadnât expected to find you thereâstanding in the middle of his studio, as if you had every right to be. As if this place still belonged to both of you.
His gaze dropped to your hand. The papers. A copy of the divorce documents his lawyer had prepared, edges slightly crumpled where your fingers held them too tightly.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
It had beenâwhatâalmost a year since you last stepped into his studio?
A year since you last stood among the canvases, the smell of paint, the quiet that used to feel like a shared language between you.
Mingyu had stopped expecting you to come back. Somewhere along the way, he thought you had forgotten this part of him existed. That the version of him who painted, who stayed up all night chasing colors and light and meaningâhad slowly disappeared in your eyes. All that was left was a husband. A role you had grown tired of. A man you no longer looked at the same way.
And yet, here you were. Holding the proof of everything he hadnât said out loud.
Mingyu exhaled slowly, setting his keys down on the nearest surface, the sound sharper than intended in the stillness.
âItâs exactly what it looks like,â he said. His voice came out calmer than he felt. Controlled. Practiced.
Like this moment had been waiting for him long enough that he had already rehearsed it in his head. But something in your expression made that composure feel fragile.
Because you werenât angry. You werenât even upset in the way he expected. You just⊠looked lost.
Your eyes moved over the paper again, slower this time, like the words refused to settle properly in your mind.
âWhat do you mean?â you asked, quieter now.
And that made something twist in his chest. Mingyu frowned, confusion flickering through the irritation he had been holding onto for months. âItâs a divorce, Y/n,â he said, the words landing heavier than he intended. âWhat else would it mean?â
You didnât answer right away. Your grip on the paper loosened slightly, like your hands had forgotten why they were holding it in the first place. Your brows pulled togetherânot in anger, not in hurt but in something closer to disbelief.
âNo,â you murmured, almost to yourself.
Mingyuâs jaw tightened.
He had expected resistance. Denial, maybe. Even anger. But not this. Not the way you looked at him like he had just said something that didnât make sense. Like the idea itself didnât belong to your reality.
âWeâre notââ you started, then stopped, your voice faltering in a way he hadnât heard in a long time. âWeâre not at that point.â
Mingyu let out a short, humorless breath.
âArenât we?â
The question hung between you, sharp and unforgiving.
You looked at him like he was saying something unreal. Like the ground beneath you hadnât already been breaking for months.
Mingyu watched that expression linger on your face, and for a secondâjust a secondâsomething in him wavered. Then it settled. Back into something heavier. Quieter.
âIâm tired, Y/n.â
The words came out low. Not sharp. Not accusing. Just⊠tired. He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly as if even speaking took more effort than it should. âI donât think you understand how long Iâve been tired.â
You didnât move. Didnât interrupt.
So he continued. âIâve been trying to figure us out for a year now,â Mingyu said, his voice steady but worn at the edges. âTrying to understand what went wrong. What changed. What I didâwhat you didâwhat we did.â
His gaze dropped briefly to the floor before returning to you. âAnd every time I think Iâm getting somewhere, it justââ He let out a quiet breath, shaking his head. âIt just resets.â
There it was. The thing he never knew how to explain without sounding irrational.
âYou act like nothing happened,â he went on, slower now, choosing his words carefully. âOr you disappear. Or you come back and itâs like weâre not even talking about the same things anymore.â
His jaw tightened slightly.
âI donât know how to keep up with that.â
The studio felt smaller with every word. Mingyu took a step back, more for himself than for distance between you.
âI feel like Iâm the only one fighting,â he said. âThe only one holding onto them. The only one trying to fix something thatââ He stopped, swallowing. ââthat you donât even seem to think is broken.â
Silence pressed in again. Heavy. Unforgiving.
âI used to think you stopped caring,â he admitted after a moment, his voice quieter now. âThat maybe you just⊠fell out of love. And I tried to accept that.â
His lips pressed into a thin line.
âBecause at least that would make sense.â
But this? This didnât. Mingyu looked at you thenâreally looked at youâand whatever he saw didnât ease anything inside him. It only made him more tired.
âI donât recognize us anymore,â he said. âI donât recognize you.â
The words werenât harsh. But they landed harder because of it.
âAnd I donât want to keep living like this,â he added, almost gently. âComing home and not knowing which version of you Iâm going to get. Wondering if anything we say to each other is going to matter the next day.â
He let out a breath that felt like it had been sitting in his chest for months.
âI canât keep doing that.â
Your fingers tightened slightly around the papers again, but you still hadnât said anything.
That scared him more than anger would have. So he finished it.
âI justâŠâ Mingyu paused, his voice dipping lower, quieterâlike the truth had finally settled into something he couldnât avoid anymore. âI just want it to end.â
A beat. Then, softerâ
âI want a divorce.â
No anger. No raised voice. Just a man who had run out of ways to hold something together on his own.
*
Your head was spinning by the time you stepped out of Mingyuâs studio.
The air outside felt differentâtoo open, too sharp against your skinâas you made your way toward your car. Each step came a little uneven, like your body hadnât quite caught up with everything that had just happened.
Your breath hitched. Something tight lodged itself in your throat as you reached for the door handle, fingers fumbling for a second before finally pulling it open. You slid into the driverâs seat, the quiet inside the car closing in around you almost immediately.Too quiet.
You shut the door. And for a moment, you just sat there. Your hands came up to your face instinctively, pressing against your eyes, your templesâlike you could steady the spinning inside your head if you just held on tight enough.
Take a breath. Justâbreathe. You tried.
But it came out uneven. Shallow.
âDivorceâŠ?â The word felt wrong in your mouth. Unfamiliar. Like it didnât belong to you.
Your brows pulled together, confusion settling deeper as you leaned back against the seat, staring blankly at the windshield. You didnât understand. Not really.
Why would Mingyuâout of nowhereâwant a divorce? The question circled, over and over, but never landed anywhere solid. Out of nowhere. Thatâs what it felt like.
There hadnât been a conversation. No warning. No moment where things felt that broken. Yes, youâd been busy. Yes, things had been quieter between you. But that was normal, wasnât it?
It had to be.
Your fingers tightened slightly against your sleeves as you tried to retrace your stepsâlast night, the days before, the past weekâ
But the thoughts didnât line up the way they should. They slipped. Blurred at the edges. You exhaled shakily, pressing your lips together. This didnât make sense. None of it did. Mingyu looked serious. Tired. But that didnât match the version of things in your head.
Because in your mind, you were still trying.
You drove to the gallery on autopilot.
The roads blurred past you, familiar turns taken without thought, your hands steady on the wheel even as your mind refused to settle. By the time you pulled into the parking lot, the tightness in your chest hadnât easedâit had only sunk deeper, quieter.
You couldnât afford to think about it now. Not here. Not when people were waiting. You stepped out of the car, smoothing down your clothes, forcing your expression into something composedâsomething professional. The moment you walked through the doors, the noise of the gallery wrapped around you. Conversations. Footsteps. The low hum of a place alive with people.
Normal. Everything looked normal. You held onto that as you made your way toward your office.
But thenâ
Seungkwan. He was standing a few steps away, already looking at you. Not casually.bNot like heâd just noticed you. He was staring. And something about the look on his face made your steps falter, just slightly.
Before you could reach your office door, he movedâquickly, cutting you off.
âY/n,â he called, breath uneven like he had rushed over. âWhat are you doing here?â
You blinked at him. âWhat do you mean?â you replied, frowning slightly. âI have work.â
His expression didnât change. If anything, it deepened.
âHow are you?â he asked instead, his tone shiftingâcareful now, like he was testing something fragile.
The question threw you off more than it should have.
âIâm fine,â you said, a little too quickly. âSeungkwan, I have a lot of things to do. No time forââ you waved your hand slightly, searching for the word, ââcasualty.â
His brows furrowed.
âWhat?â he said, almost under his breath. Then louder, more certain, âWhat are you talking about?â
A pause.
Thenâ
âItâs been a week since you resigned.â
The words didnât land all at once. They hit, then echoedâlike your mind needed time to catch up.
You stared at him.
ââŠWhat?â
Seungkwan didnât smile. Didnât laugh it off like it was a joke. He just looked at youâreally looked at you this time, something serious settling into his expression.
âY/n,â he said slowly, âyou said it yourself.â
Your chest tightened. âNo,â you interrupted, shaking your head immediately. âWhy would I do that?â
He didnât answer right away.
And that hesitation, that was worse.
âBabe,â he said softly, the word sounding more like concern than familiarity now, âyou told me you were trying to conceive. That you wanted to focus on that.â
Your breath caught.
âThatâs why you resigned.â
Something in your stomach dropped.
Hard. You shook your head again, more firmly this time, even as the movement felt disconnectedâlike your body was reacting before your mind could.
âI never said that,â you insisted, your voice tightening. âAnd I never resigned.â
The words came out certain. Too certain. Because the moment they left your mouth, something flickered.
A fragment. A feeling. Not quite a memory. Your fingers curled slightly at your sides.
âThat doesnât make sense,â you added, quieter now, like you were trying to convince yourself as much as him. âWhy would I resign?â
Seungkwan didnât respond. He just watched you. You noticed it. The way he was looking at you. Not confused. Not annoyed. But worried.
âYou know I donât want to get pregnant and get those morning sickness again, SeungkwanâŠâ
The words slipped out before you could stop them.
They hung in the airâwrong.
Your own voice sounded distant to your ears, like it didnât quite belong to you. The moment stretched, thin and fragile, as something inside your chest tightened sharply.
Seungkwan froze.
Not dramatically. Not all at once. Justâstill. His expression faltered in a way you had never seen before, the concern in his eyes shifting into something heavier. Something that made your stomach drop before he even said a word.
âAgain?â he asked quietly.
Your breath caught. You blinked at him, confusion knitting your brows as your mind scrambled to catch up with what you had just said.
âIââ You stopped, swallowing. âThatâs not what I meant.â
But it was. Wasnât it? The word lingered in your head now, louder than anything else.
Again.
Your fingers curled slightly against your palm, nails pressing into your skin as if that could ground you, anchor you to something real.
âIâve neverââ you started, your voice unsteady now, âIâve never been pregnant.â
Seungkwan didnât answer immediately.
And that silenceâ
it was too long. Too careful. Too heavy.
Your heart began to pound, slow and uneven, as something cold crept up your spine.
âY/nâŠâ he said finally, his voice softer now, like he was approaching something breakable. âYou donât remember?â
The question didnât feel like a question. It felt like a confirmation.
Your head shook almost instinctively, small at first, then firmer. âRemember what?â you asked, the words coming out sharper than you intended. âWhat are you talking about?â
But even as you said it, your chest tightened. Your body knew. Before your mind did.
A flicker, white walls. A smell you couldnât place. Your hands gripping somethingâhard. Pain.
A sharp inhale tore through your throat as you staggered back a step, your hand reaching blindly for the edge of a desk to steady yourself.
It slipped. Gone before you could hold onto it.
âWhatââ you whispered, your voice breaking, âwhat is that?â
Seungkwan moved closer instinctively, but stopped himself just short of touching you, like he wasnât sure if he should.
âYouâŠâ He hesitated, jaw tightening. âYou were pregnant.â
The world tilted.
âNo,â you said immediately. Too fast. Too desperate.
âNo, thatâs notâno.â
But the denial didnât settle the way it should have. It didnât feel solid. It felt like something you were trying to force into place over a crack that had already split open.
Seungkwanâs gaze didnât leave you. âYou miscarried,â he said, gently.
The word hit harder than anything else.
Miscarried.
Your breath left you in a shaky exhale, your grip tightening on the desk as your knees threatened to give out.
âThatâs not possible,â you whispered..
Seungkwan didnât say anything for a while after that. Like he had already said too much. The space between you stretched thin, fragile, filled with things neither of you seemed ready to touch. You werenât sure how long you stood thereâseconds, minutesâtime felt⊠off. Slower. Heavier.
âTheyâre recruiting a new director,â he said.
Your head snapped up. âWhat?â
His gaze softened, but it didnât waver. âManagement made the announcement three days ago. I thought you knew.â
You didnât. Of course, you didnât.
âIâŠâ Your voice trailed off, the words refusing to come together. âNo one told me.â
Seungkwan hesitated, then exhaled slowly. âYou werenât here, Y/n.â
That again. That same sentence, dressed differently. Your fingers curled slightly at your sides.
âI packed your things,â he added after a moment, gesturing toward your office. âJust in case you needed them.â
You didnât respond. You just walked past him. Each step felt heavier than the last as you pushed the door open and stepped into your officeâyour office. The space looked untouched at first glance. Clean. Organized. The way you always kept it. But something was off. Too neat. Too⊠finished.
There, on your desk, sat a box. Simple. Brown. Sealed loosely, like it had been opened and closed more than once.
You approached it slowly. Your hands hovered for a second before finally lifting the lid. Inside was your things. Files. Notebooks. Small personal items you barely registered as you shifted them aside, your movements growing more restless, more urgentâas if you were looking for something without knowing what it was.
Anything that would make sense. Anything that would prove this was wrong.
Your fingers brushed against a document. You pulled it out. Your name. Printed clearly at the top. The rest of the words blurred for a second before your vision steadied, your eyes tracing the lines slowlyâtoo slowly, like your mind was resisting every letter.
Patient Name: Y/n.
Date: two weeks ago.
Your breath caught. And then, there it was.
Miscarriage.
The word sat there, unchanging. Unforgiving. You stared at it. Waiting for it to make sense. Waiting for somethingâanythingâto connect. But nothing came. No memory. No image. No feeling strong enough to claim it as yours. Just⊠emptiness.
Your grip on the paper tightened slightly, the edges crumpling under your fingers without you realizing. Two weeks ago. You tried to think back. Tried to force your mind to go there,to that day, that moment, anything. But it was like reaching into a void. Nothing.
Your lips parted slightly, a breath escaping you that didnât quite feel like your own.
ââŠNo.â
It came out barely audible. Because if this was real, if this had happened, then what else had you forgotten? And why, why did your body feel like it already knew?
*
You woke up with a sharp inhale. Dark. For a second, you didnât move. The ceiling above you felt unfamiliarâtoo high, the corners of the room too shadowed. Your body was stiff, like you had been lying there for hours, unmoving.
Your breath came uneven as you pushed yourself up, the sheets falling from your shoulders. The room slowly came into focus. You knew it. Your parentsâ house.
The realization settled in, slow and heavy, as your eyes moved around the space. The furniture. The curtains. The faint scent lingering in the airâfamiliar in a way that made your chest tighten.
How did you get here? You couldnât remember. Not the drive. Not arriving. Not even deciding to come. Nothing. A flicker of unease crept up your spine.
You swung your legs off the bed, your bare feet meeting the cold floor as you stood. The house was quiet as you stepped out of the room, the hallway dimly lit by a single lamp left on somewhere in the distance.
You checked the time. Midnight. Your brows furrowed. Why⊠were you here?
The thought came quickly, almost instinctiveâ
Mingyu.
Wouldnât he be waiting for you? At home. The idea felt solid. Certain. Like something you could hold onto.
You stepped outside without thinking much of it, still in your pajamas, the night air brushing against your skin as you wrapped your arms around yourself. It felt colder than it should have.
Your phone was already in your hand before you realized it. You called him. It rang once. Twice.
âHello?â His voice was there. Low. Tired. Familiar.
Your throat tightened slightly.
âCan you pick me up?â you said, the words coming out softer than you intended. âIâm at my parentsâ. I donât know why Iâm hereâŠâ
There was a pause on the other end. Short. But heavy.
ââŠAlright,â Mingyu replied finally. âIâll be there in ten.â
The line went dead. You stood there for a moment longer, staring at your screen before lowering it slowly, something uneasy settling deep in your chest. You couldnât name it. Only that it didnât feel right.
Mingyu arrived exactly ten minutes later. His jeep pulled into the driveway, headlights cutting through the darkness before the engine went still. You didnât wait. You moved toward the car immediately, opening the door and slipping into the passenger seat.
The warmth inside hit you all at once. You shut the door quietly. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The engine started again. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye.
He looked⊠tired. More than usual. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw set in a way that made something in your chest twist.
âYou seem tired,â you said gently, trying to ease the silence. âLong day?â
The words felt normal. Casual. Like something you had said a hundred times before. Mingyu didnât answer right away. The car kept moving. He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at you.
âReally?â he said. His voice wasnât loud. But it wasnât soft either. There was something under it. Something sharp.
âAre you acting right now, Y/n?â
The question didnât land all at once. It hit. And thenâ everything followed. At once. Too fast. Too much. The fight. Your voiceâstrained, repeating the same thing over and over. The door closing. Silence stretching for days. Getting lost, NoâWalking. BarefootâCold pavementâHands shaking. White walls. Pain. A word. Miscarriage. Paper. Your name. Seungkwanâs voiceâ You resigned. You were pregnant. Mingyu. The studio. The papers in your hand. Divorce.
Your breath caught violently, your fingers gripping the edge of the seat as your head spun, the pieces crashing into each other without order, without mercy.
You froze. Completely still. Because none of itâ none of it lined up. Not cleanly. Not clearly. Some of it felt real. Too real. But some of itâ felt distant. Blurry. Like something you had dreamed and then half-forgotten.
Your chest rose and fell unevenly as your mind scrambled, trying to sort through itâtrying to separate what was real from what wasnât.
The car felt too small, like the air inside had been sucked out. Your breath came uneven, fingers gripping the edge of the seat as if that was the only thing keeping you grounded. Something was wrongâdeeply, terribly wrong. âMingyuâŠâ your voice trembled, barely audible. âI⊠I donâtââ The words dissolved before they could form, because it started.
Not like remembering. Not clean, not wholeâbut like something cracking open inside your head.
A flash of white. Too bright. The sharp, sterile smell hit you first, making your stomach twist violently. You flinched, your hand flying to your abdomen without thinking. Pain followedâsudden, overwhelmingâyour body curling into itself as if reliving it. âMingyuââ your voice echoed weakly in your head, breaking, but no one answered.
The car slowed, Mingyu glancing at you, saying somethingâyour name, maybeâbut you couldnât hear him. The memories kept coming.
A phone screen. Your own reflection staring backâpale, hollow-eyed. A message half-typed: Where are you? Deleted. Typed again. Deleted again. The door closingâhis voice, distant, muffled like it was underwater. I need space.
Your chest tightened painfully. âNoâŠâ you whispered, shaking your head, but it didnât stop.
The floor was cold beneath your knees. Your hands clutched your stomach, breath breaking into uncontrollable sobs. Something warm. Wet. Your vision blurred as you looked down.
Red.
A sharp gasp tore from your throat, your body recoiling as if burned. âMingyuââ this time louder, desperate. Still, the memory didnât release you.
Voicesâstrangers. Panic, urgency. âStay with me, maâamââ âCall someoneâdoes she have someoneâ?â Your head felt heavy, your fingers weakly gripping someoneâs sleeve. âMingyuâŠâ barely a sound.
Then silence.
A room too quiet. Your hands resting on your stomach, and you already knew. Before anyone told you, before any words were spokenâyou knew. Empty.
Time blurred. Hours, daysâyou couldnât tell. Curtains drawn, your phone lighting up beside you. His name on the screen. You didnât answer. You couldnât.
Another shift.
You stood in front of the mirror, staring at someone who looked like you but didnât feel like you. Your lips moved, forcing a smile that didnât belong. âEverythingâs fine.â Again. âEverythingâs fine.â Again. Again.
âY/N!â
The world snapped back violently.
The car. The road. Mingyuâs voice, closer now. His hand gripping your arm, his face tight with something between fear and disbelief. âHeyâhey, look at meâwhatâs wrong with you?â Your breathing came in short, broken gasps as you stared at him, not fully seeing him, because the last piece settled inâslow, heavy, unavoidable.
The paper in your hand. Miscarriage. Your name printed beneath it. Two weeks ago.
Your lips parted, but no sound came at first. Your eyes trembled as they searched his face, like you were seeing him for the first timeâor finally understanding. âIâŠâ your voice came out hollow. âI was pregnant.â The words felt distant, unreal. âIââ your breath hitched sharply. âI lost it.â
Silence filled the car, thick and suffocating.
Your fingers curled into your clothes, shaking. âAnd youâŠâ your voice crackedânot accusing, not angry, just broken. âYou werenât thereâŠâ
The moment the words left you, something shifted again. Your expression faltered, confusion creeping back in, fragile and disoriented. âIâŠâ your brows furrowed weakly. âWhy werenât you there?â
Not blame. Not yet. Just a question. A real one.
Like you didnât remember asking it before. Like you didnât remember living through it at all.
And that was when it truly brokeânot just the memory, not just the loss, but the realization that you had lived through something that shattered you⊠and your mind had decided you couldnât survive remembering it.
*
Mingyu didnât answer. Not because he didnât want toâbut because he couldnât.
His hand was still wrapped around your arm, fingers tightening without him realizing, like if he let go you might disappear right in front of him. His eyes searched your face, scanning every inch of it as if the answer was written somewhere there, hidden beneath your expression.
âIâwhat?â he let out a breathless, disbelieving sound. âWhat are you talking about?â
His voice came out sharper than he intended, confusion laced heavily through it. There was something else tooâsomething unsettled, almost uneasy.
âYouâre⊠pregnant?â he repeated, the word sounding foreign in his mouth. âY/N, whatââ
He stopped. Because you didnât look like you were lying. You didnât look like you were avoiding him, or deflecting, or doing that thing he had grown so used toâsmiling like nothing happened, brushing everything under the rug until he was the only one left holding onto it.
No. You looked⊠lost. Completely, terrifyingly lost.
âI lost it,â you said again, softer this time, like you were trying to convince yourself more than him. Your eyes drifted away from him, unfocused, like you were seeing something else entirely.
Mingyuâs grip loosened slightly. Something about this felt wrong. Not wrong like your usual fights. Not wrong like miscommunication or stubbornness or hurt pride.
This felt off. Like he had walked into the middle of something he didnât understand, something that had been happening without him even knowing.
âY/N,â his voice dropped, slower now, cautious. âWhat are you saying?â
You didnât answer him directly. Instead, you looked back at him, your expression fragile, almost childlike in its confusion. âYou left,â you murmured. âYou said you needed space.â
Mingyuâs brows pulled together immediately. âYeah, Iââ he started, but stopped halfway.
Because the way you said It didnât sound like you were recalling a recent argument. It sounded like you were reliving something.
âAnd thenâŠâ your voice wavered, your hand instinctively pressing against your stomach again. âIt hurt. I was alone.â
His stomach dropped. A strange, cold feeling crept up his spine.
âAlone?â he echoed, quieter now.
You nodded faintly, eyes glossing over. âI called you,â you whispered. âI think I did⊠I donâtââ Your breathing picked up again, panic slipping back in. âI donât remember if you answered.â
Mingyu froze.
âI didnâtââ he said quickly, almost defensively. âYou didnât call me.â
But even as the words left his mouth, they didnât sit right. Did you? He wouldâve remembered, wouldnât he?
His mind raced back, trying to piece together the timelineâthe fight, him leaving, the days after. Everything felt⊠blurred. He remembered being angry. He remembered ignoring a few callsâno, not calls, messages. Or were they calls?
His chest tightened.
âY/N,â he said again, but his voice had changed. Less certain. âWhen⊠when did this happen?â
You blinked at him. Slowly. Like the question itself didnât make sense.
âI donât know,â you admitted, your voice small, trembling. âI thought it was just today. ButâŠâ Your fingers curled into your clothes again, shaking. âThey said two weeks.â
Two weeks. The words echoed in his head. Two weeks ago. Mingyuâs grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles paling as something heavy began to settle in his chest. Two weeks ago, he wasnât there.
He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering back to you. You were still looking at him like you needed him to make sense of it. Like he was supposed to explain what happened to you.
But he couldnât. Because none of this made sense. Not the pregnancy. Not the miscarriage. Not the way you were remembering things in piecesâout of order, like broken fragments that didnât quite fit together.
And most of all, ot the way you were looking at him right now. Like he was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
Like you knew him, but didnât fully remember what he had done. A quiet, unsettling realization crept into his mind, one he didnât want to touch, didnât want to fully form.
âThis isnâtâŠâ he started, his voice low, uncertain. âY/N, this isnât you just⊠pretending, is it?â
The question hung in the air. Fragile. Dangerous.
You didnât answer him. Not right away.
Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say somethingâexplain, maybeâbut nothing came out. The words were there, somewhere in your head, but they felt out of reach, slipping further the harder you tried to grab them.
âIâŠâ your voice cracked, barely holding together. âI donât know.â
And that was it. That was the last thing keeping you from falling apart.
Your breath hitched sharply, your chest tightening like something inside had finally snapped loose. The fragments in your headâvoices, images, pain, silenceâcrashed into each other all at once, too loud, too overwhelming.
âI donât know whatâs happening,â you whispered, but it quickly broke into something heavier, something desperate. âI donât know whatâs real, Mingyuââ
Your hands came up to your head, fingers tangling in your hair as if you could physically hold yourself together. âI remember thingsâbut then I donâtâand it hurts and I donât know why it hurts and I donâtââ
Your voice collapsed into a sob. Raw. Uncontrolled.
âI donât understand,â you cried, shaking now, your whole body folding in on itself. âWhy canât I remember? Why does it feel like I forgot something important? Something really importantââ
Your words dissolved into broken sobs, your breathing uneven, almost choking as you tried to take in air.
âI feel like I lost something,â you whispered weakly, your voice barely there now. âBut I donât even remember losing itâŠâ
Mingyu didnât think anymore. Didnât question. Didnât try to piece anything together. Because seeing you like thisâbreaking right in front of him, not pulling away, not pretending, not brushing it off. It did something to him. Something heavy. Something sharp.
âHeyâhey,â he said quickly, his voice dropping, panic threading through it as he reached for you.
You didnât resist. Didnât even react. Your body leaned into him the moment his arms wrapped around you, like you had nothing left to hold yourself up. His hand came up to the back of your head, pressing you gently against his chest, the other arm tightening around you as if he could keep you from falling apart any further.
âIâve got you,â he murmured, though his voice wasnât as steady as he wanted it to be. âHey⊠itâs okay. Itâs okay.â
But it wasnât. He knew that. You knew that. Stillâyou clung to him.
Your fingers gripping onto his shirt, clutching it tightly as your sobs broke freely now, muffled against his chest. Your whole body trembled, each breath shaky and uneven, like you were trying to breathe through something too heavy to carry.
âMingyuâŠâ his name came out broken, barely recognizable. âIâm scared.â
That did it.
His arms tightened around you instinctively, his jaw clenching as something painful twisted deep in his chest.
âI know,â he whispered, his hand gently pressing against your hair, trying to soothe you even though he had no idea how. âI know⊠Iâm here.â
Your grip on him only tightened.
âDonât leave,â you said suddenly, the words spilling out in a fragile, desperate plea. âPlease donât leave me againâI donât⊠I donât think I can handle it if youââ
Your voice broke completely. Mingyu froze.
Again.
The words hit him harder than anything else had.
Again.
His throat tightened, something heavy lodging itself there as his mind flashed backâto the door closing, to his own voice saying he needed space, to the silence he left you in. To two weeks ago. To the time you said you couldnât remember.
He swallowed hard, his hold on you tightening almost protectively now, like he was trying to make up for something that had already happened.
âIâm not going anywhere,â he said quietly, but this time there was something different in his voice.
âIâm here,â he repeated, softer, his hand moving gently against your hair. âIâm right here, Y/N.â
You didnât question it. Didnât pull away. You just held onto him tighter, like he was the only thing that still made sense in a world that suddenly didnât.
*
The hospital felt too brightâtoo clean, too unforgiving. Mingyu sat outside your room, elbows resting on his knees, hands hanging loosely between them. They were still trembling, though he barely noticed anymore. Everything felt distant, like he was sitting behind glass, watching someone elseâs life unfold.
You were inside. Unconscious.
Again. He didnât know how it got to this point. One moment you were in his armsâshaking, crying, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you togetherâand the next, your body went slack. Your voice disappeared. Your grip loosened.
And just like that, you were gone.
The doctor said it wasnât physical. Not entirely. âSevere stress response,â they called it. Something about your body shutting down because your mind couldnât handle it anymore. Mingyu didnât fully understand, but he knew one thingâthis wasnât normal. This wasnât you avoiding fights or pretending nothing happened. This was something deeper. Something he had completely missed.
He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling shakily. His chest felt tight, like something was pressing against it from the inside. How long has this been happening? The question wouldnât leave him alone. How long had you been like this⊠and he just didnât see it?
Footsteps approached from the end of the hallwayâsoft, careful, familiar. Mingyu lifted his head slightly.
Your parents. Your mother looked like she hadnât slept. Your father stood beside her, quieter, but just as tense. The moment their eyes met Mingyuâs, something shiftedâsomething uneasy, something unspoken. They already knew.
âIs she awake?â your mother asked, her voice low, controlled, though the fear beneath it was obvious.
Mingyu shook his head. âNo⊠not yet.â
Silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating. Your father nodded slowly, like he expected that answerâlike this wasnât new. And that made something twist painfully in Mingyuâs chest.
ââŠHas this happened before?â he asked, his voice quieter now, careful.
Your parents exchanged a lookânot confusion, not surprise, but hesitation. And that alone told him more than he wanted to know.
Mingyu straightened slightly, his brows pulling together. âPlease,â he said, more firmly this time. âI need to know whatâs going on with her.â
Your motherâs lips parted, but no words came out at first. She looked at your father, like she needed permissionâor strength. Your father exhaled slowly, then spoke.
âSheâs had episodes like this before.â
The words landed heavier than they should have.
âEpisodesâŠ?â Mingyu echoed, his voice tightening.
âNot exactly like this,â your mother added quickly, her tone fragile. âBut⊠similar. When she was younger.â
Younger.
Mingyuâs stomach dropped. âHow young?â
A pause. A long one.
âAfter high school,â your father said quietly.
Your mother looked away this time, her fingers tightening around each other. âShe went through⊠something,â she said carefully. âSomething that affected her deeply.â
The vagueness only made his chest tighten more. âWhat kind of something?â Mingyu pressed, his voice sharper now. âSheâs losing her memory, she collapsed in my arms, she thinks she was pregnant and lost it but doesnât even remember when it happenedâhow am I supposed to understand any of this if you keepââ
âShe was assaulted.â
The words cut through everything. Clean. Immediate. Mingyu went completely still.
ââŠWhat?â The word barely left him.
Your father didnât look away. âWhen she was a teenager,â he said. âShe didnât tell us right away. We only found out later⊠when things started getting worse.â
Mingyuâs mind struggled to process it. Assaulted. You. His gaze flickered instinctively toward your hospital room door, like it didnât match the person lying inside.
âShe developed severe depression after that,â your mother continued softly. âShe was on medication for a long time. It affected her body⊠her weight. And people werenât kind.â
Mingyu clenched his jaw, something sharp twisting in his chest. He could almost see it nowâpieces of you he never knew existed. Pain you never spoke about.
âWe sent her abroad,â your father added. âA change of environment. It helped⊠for a while.â
âFor a while,â Mingyu repeated under his breath, because clearlyâit didnât fix everything.
âWhy didnât she tell me?â he asked, quieter now, no anger leftâjust confusion.
Your mother gave a sad, knowing look. âShe doesnât talk about it,â she said. âNot even to us. She tries to move on. Pretend it doesnât exist.â
Mingyu let out a hollow breath, leaning back slightly as everything started connectingâslowly, painfully. The way you avoided certain topics. The way you reacted to your body. The way you held onto control. The way you forgot.
âAnd the memory loss?â he asked, more hesitant now.
Your father paused, then answered, âItâs happened before. Not this severe. But when sheâs under extreme stress⊠she dissociates.â
Mingyu closed his eyes briefly. Dissociates. So this wasnât new. It was just worse now.
And suddenly, everything you said in the car came rushing back.
His chest tightened sharply. It wasnât that you didnât care. It wasnât that you were ignoring things. It was that your mind simply couldnât hold themânot when they hurt too much.
âAnd the pregnancy?â he asked, almost afraid of the answer. âDid you⊠know about that?â
Your parents fell silent. Your mother looked down. Your father didnât answer. And that silence said everything.
Mingyuâs breath hitched.Because that meantâyou went through it. Alone. While he was gone.
His jaw tightened, something heavy and suffocating settling in his chest. Not anger. Not frustration. Something worse. Regret.
Your mother hesitated, like she was debating whether to say more. Her fingers twisted together, eyes briefly flickering toward your hospital room before returning to Mingyu.
âSometimes⊠she comes home. To us.â
âShe shows up late. Sometimes in the middle of the night.â
Your mother let out a small, shaky breath. âRecently. The past few months.â
Something in his chest dropped.
âShe comes crying,â your mother continued, her voice wavering now despite her effort to stay composed. âSaying youâre not home. That you havenât been home for days. That she canât reach you.â
Mingyuâs lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Because that didnât make sense.
âI was home,â he said, almost instinctively. âI mean⊠not always, but Iââ He stopped himself, his thoughts tangling. There were days he stayed longer at the studio. Nights he didnât come back until late. Times he ignored your calls because he was still upset.
But days?
ââŠI didnât leave for days,â he finished, though the certainty in his voice had already weakened.
Your father didnât argue. Your mother only looked at himâsadly.
âShe believed it,â she said. âEvery time she came to us, she was convinced you were gone. That you left her.â
Mingyu felt something cold settle in his stomach.
âShe would cry for hours,â your mother went on, her voice quieter now, like each word was getting harder to say. âShe kept asking what she did wrong. Why you wouldnât come back.â
His chest tightened painfully.
âShe said you were upset,â your father added. âThat you were tired of her. That you needed space.â
Mingyuâs jaw clenched. Because he did say that. Not once. Not lightly.
âI need space.â
The words echoed in his head now, heavier than before.
âBut thenâŠâ your mother paused, her voice breaking slightly. âThe next morning, she would wake up and act like nothing happened.â
Mingyuâs breath caught.
âSheâd smile,â she continued. âTalk normally. Ask us why we looked so worried.â
Your father exhaled slowly. âSometimes she didnât even remember coming to us.â
Silence fell heavily between them. Mingyu stared ahead, but he wasnât really seeing anything anymore. The hallway blurred slightly, his mind tryingâfailingâto process it all.
âShe forgets?â he said, barely above a whisper.
Your mother nodded. âNot everything. But⊠the parts that hurt the most.â
Mingyuâs hands slowly curled into fists, resting against his knees.
Because suddenly, everything made sense in the worst way possible. The nights you accused him of being distant. The mornings you kissed him like nothing happened. The way your arguments never seemed to carry over. The way he thought you just didnât care enough to hold onto them.
It wasnât that you didnât remember. It was that you couldnât. A sharp breath left him as something twisted painfully in his chest.
âAnd the nightâŠâ your mother hesitated again, then continued softly, âthe night she lost the babyâŠâ
Mingyuâs head snapped up.
âShe came to us,â she said. âCrying. In pain. We told her to go to the hospital, but she kept saying she needed to wait for you. That youâd come home.â
His stomach dropped.
âShe kept calling you,â your father added quietly.
Mingyu froze.
âShe said you werenât answering,â your mother whispered.
His mind went blank for a second. Then, slowly, memories started creeping in. His phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Again. He remembered glancing at it. Your name lighting up the screen. And himâ turning it face down. Because he was still angry. Because he needed space.
Because he thought, it could wait. Mingyuâs breathing grew shallow.
âShe left after a while,â your father continued. âSaid she didnât want to bother you anymore. That sheâd handle it herself.â
Your motherâs voice broke this time. âWe didnât know it would get that bad.â
Silence. Heavy. Unforgiving.
Mingyu couldnât move. Couldnât speak.
Because now, now he knew. You didnât just go through it alone. You tried to reach him. And he wasnât there.
Not because he couldnât be. But because he chose not to be. His throat tightened painfully, something sharp pressing against it as his gaze slowly dropped to his hands.
And for the first time Mingyu realized that the moments he thought were small, the ones he brushed off as just another fight were the same moments you were breaking and reaching for him at the same time.
*
You noticed it. You had always noticed. At first, it was small. So small you could still pretend it was normal.
You would forget thingsâlittle things. Where you placed your keys, whether you had eaten, what day it was. You laughed it off, brushed it aside, told yourself you were just tired. Overworked. Distracted. But then it wasnât just things.
It was moments. You would be in the middle of a conversation and suddenly feel like you had stepped out of your own body, like you were watching yourself speak from somewhere far away. Your voice would continue, your lips would moveâbut it didnât feel like you anymore.
Like someone else had taken over for a second. You noticed it. The way time slipped. The way hours would pass without weight, without memory, without anything to hold onto when you tried to look back.
At first, you caught it. You would pause, frown, try to retrace your steps. What did I just do? What did I just say? Sometimes you could piece it together. Sometimes you couldnât.
And when you couldnât, that was when the fear started.
So you learned to fill the gaps. You smiled when you were supposed to smile. You spoke when it was expected of you. You followed routines, patterns, anything that could make you look normal enough so no one would notice the spaces in between.
Especially him. Especially Mingyu. You noticed how he would look at you sometimes. Confused. Frustrated. Like he was trying to hold onto something that kept slipping through his fingers.
And you hated that look. So you got better at pretending. Better at stitching things together. Better at acting like nothing ever happened. Like the fights never happened. Like the words you couldnât remember saying were never spoken. Like the nights you cried yourself to sleep didnât exist the next morning.
You told yourself it was easier that way.
Safer.
If you didnât acknowledge it, then maybe it wasnât real. If you kept moving, kept smiling, kept beingâthen maybe you wouldnât have to face whatever was breaking inside of you.
But the shifts got worse. Longer. Deeper. There were days you couldnât remember at all. Faces that felt familiar but distant. Places you didnât remember going. Conversations that were thrown back at you like accusations, and all you could do was stareâblank, lost, guilty for something you didnât even know you had done.
You started to question yourself. Your own mind. Did I say that? Did I do that? Or was it just⊠someone else wearing your skin? You noticed it.
You noticed the way fear slowly turned into something heavier. Something quieter. Something you couldnât quite name. Until one day, you didnât notice anymore.
The gaps stopped scaring you. Because you stopped seeing them. They became your normal. Your routine. Your way of surviving. And that terrified you more than anything ever had.
Because this was what you had been running from all along. Losing control. Losing yourself. Becoming something you couldnât recognize. Something fragile. Unstable. Broken.
You had spent so long trying not to be that girl again. The one who needed help. The one people whispered about. The one who was too much, too heavy, too complicated to love without exhaustion.
And yet, without realizing it, without even noticing when it truly began, you became her again.
Not all at once. Not dramatically. Just slowly. Quietly. Piece by piece. Until there was nothing left of the version of you that knew how to stay.
*
Someone knocked on your door at nine in the morning. The sound felt⊠distant. Like it belonged to a place you hadnât fully arrived in yet.
âCome in,â you said, though your voice came out softer than you expected.
The door opened, and a woman in a white dress stepped inside, pushing a small food cart. The wheels made a quiet sound against the floor as she approached you.
You were sitting on the bed. You noticed that. But the question came anyway. Why are you on the bed? And then, where are you?
âMs. Ji, itâs time for breakfast,â she said gently. âI brought your favorite.â
She stopped beside you, lifting the cover from the tray. Cut fruits. Boiled eggs. Toast. Simple. Plain.
You stared at it for a moment. You felt like you should recognize it. Like your body knew something your mind didnât.
âThey look boring,â you murmured honestly. Then, after a small pause, âBut⊠I think I like them.â
The woman smiled softly, like she had heard that before.
âI donât remember having a favorite food,â you added, your eyes shifting to the small name tag pinned to her chest.
Suji.
âThatâs okay,â Suji said, her voice calm, practiced in a way that didnât feel cold. âYou donât have to remember anything today.â
She helped you adjust the tray on your lap, her movements careful, unhurried.
You picked up the toast. Took a bite. It was good. Not special. Not overwhelming. Just⊠right.
You chewed slowly, quietly, while Suji moved around the room. She reached for the remote and turned on the TV, letting the sound fill the silence just enough. Channels flickered one after another. Colors. Voices. Faces that meant nothing. Until it stopped. A news channel.
âOh,â Suji said lightly, glancing at the screen. âThatâs where you used to work. Remember?â
You paused mid-chew. You worked?
The question formed in your head, but it didnât feel important enough to ask out loud. Instead, you shifted your gaze back to the screen, your hand reaching for a piece of fruit.
A man appeared on the screen. Well-dressed. Tall. Standing under bright lights as cameras flashed around him. There was applause. An award being handed to him. Your eyes lingered. Something, something moved. A small, quiet pull somewhere deep inside your chest. And then, before you could thinkâ
âKim Mingyu.â
The name slipped out of your mouth like it had always belonged there.
Suji froze slightly.
ââŠYou know him?â she asked, her tone shifting just a little.
You nodded slowly, your eyes still on the screen. There was no confusion in your expression this time. No hesitation. Just certainty.
âKim Mingyu,â you repeated softly.
A small pause.
Thenâ
âMy husband.â
The words settled into the room. Heavy. Out of place. Too certain for someone who couldnât even remember her own favorite food.
Suji looked at you, something unreadable passing through her eyesâsurprise, maybe, or something closer to concern. But you didnât notice. Because your attention stayed on the screen. On him. On the man you couldnât remember, but somehow, your heart still did.
Suji didnât bring it up again that morning. But she remembered. The way your voice changed when you said his name. The certainty. The quiet conviction that didnât match the rest of youâthe rest of the woman who couldnât remember what she liked, where she worked, or even why she was there.
My husband.
It stayed with her. Later that day, during her break, Suji sat in the small staff room with your file open in front of her.
Name: Ji Y/N
Age: 56 years old
Condition: Severe dissociative amnesia with recurring identity disturbance
Guardian: â
Emergency Contact: â
Empty. All of it.
She frowned slightly, flipping through the pages again like something might appear if she looked hard enough.
Nothing did. No family listed. No spouse. No one.
For ten years, you had been thereâadmitted, treated, stabilized, relapsed, stabilized again. Notes written by doctors, observations by nurses, small fragments of who you used to be scattered across clinical language.
But no one had ever come. No one had ever claimed you. Suji leaned back slightly, her fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the file.
ââŠKim Mingyu,â she murmured to herself. It didnât take long. Articles came up almost immediately. Interviews. Exhibitions. Photographs. A man stood behind most of themâtall, composed, carrying an air that only came with years of recognition.
Kim Mingyu. A maestro painter. Renowned. Respected. Sixty years old.
Sujiâs brows furrowed as she scrolled further, eyes scanning quickly until something caught her attention.
A profile. A short personal history. And there is a name. Yours. Listed not as current. But as something that had already ended. Former spouse.
Suji went still.
ââŠFormer?â she whispered. Her gaze flickered back to the photo of him. Then to your name beside his. Then back again. It didnât line up.
Not with the way you said it. Not with the way your eyes had looked at the screen. My husband. Not was. Not used to be.
She closed the file slowly. Her mind wandered back to the small things you had said over the years.
Fragments. You worked at a gallery. You liked quiet mornings. You didnât like being aloneâthough you often were. You had mentioned painting once. Or maybe twice. Never clearly. Never consistently. Like pieces of a story that refused to stay in place. Ten years. You had been here for ten years.
And somehow, in all that time, that name stayed. Out of everything your mind had lost, everything it had rewritten, everything it had buried. He remained. Not fully. Not correctly. But enough.
Enough for you to recognize him without remembering yourself.
Enough to call him yoursâeven when the world had already written him as something else.
Suji exhaled slowly, her grip tightening slightly around her phone. There was something about it that didnât sit right with her. A gap. A missing piece.
Or maybe too many pieces that didnât fit together anymore. She glanced back at your file one more time. Then at the name still on her screen.
Kim Mingyu.
*
The visiting room was quiet when you stepped in. Sunlight stretched across the floor, pale and distant. The chairs were arranged neatly, untouched, like no one ever stayed long enough to leave a trace.
And then you saw him. Sitting by the window. Older. Time had settled on him in quiet waysâgrey threaded through his hair, the sharpness of his youth softened into something heavier. But there was still something unmistakable about him.
Something your chest recognized before your mind could. You walked toward him slowly. He looked up. And for a moment, everything in him stilled.
Mingyu hadnât expected this. Not this version of you. Not the softness in your eyes. Not the absence of anger. Not the way you looked at him like you were trying to place him into a story you couldnât fully remember.
He had come here with something else in his chest. Old resentment. Old confusion. Questions that had stayed unanswered for decades. Because back then, he thought he knew. He thought you were distant.
Careless.
Cold.
He thought you chose to forget. Chose to walk past every fight like it meant nothing. Chose to leave him alone in a marriage that felt like it only existed on paper. So he left. He signed the papers. He told himself it was the only thing left to do. He never once thought you were sick.
ââŠY/N,â he said, your name unfamiliar after so many years.
You stopped a few steps away. You studied him. Carefully.
âI know you,â you said softly.
Mingyuâs breath caught.
âMy husband,â you added.
The word hit him harder than anything else. Not because it was wrongâ but because of how easily you said it.
Like nothing had ever broken. Like nothing had ever ended.
Mingyu swallowed.
ââŠI was,â he corrected, his voice quieter now.
You blinked.
ââŠWas,â you repeated, like you were trying to understand it. There was a pause. Something flickered behind your eyes. A shadow of something heavierâ
A studio.
Raised voices.
His voiceâ
Iâm tired. I canât do this anymore.
A paper in your hand.
The word divorce.
Your chest tightenedâ
And then it slipped.
Gone.
You smiled instead. Small. Polite. Like you always did when something didnât make sense.
Mingyu felt it. That shift. That disappearance. His brows pulled together slightly.
ââŠDo you remember?â he asked, more carefully this time.
You looked at him again. âI think I do,â you said. Then softerâ âbut it doesnât stay.â
Your fingers curled lightly against your palm.
âI was trying to tell you something,â you added suddenly.
Mingyu stilled.
âWhat?â he asked.
Your lips parted. This time you felt it more clearly. The weight sitting in your chest. The words pressing against your throat.
I was scared.
I was hurting.
I didnât understand what was happening to me.
I wasnât ignoring youâI was losing myself.
Your breathing faltered slightly.
âIââ you started.
Mingyu leaned forward just a little.
For the first time he was listening. Really listening. Not judging. Not assuming. Just waiting.
âI think⊠I was sick,â you said, your voice trembling faintly.
His chest tightened. âSick how?â he asked.
You tried.
God, you tried.
âIâŠâ Your fingers pressed against your temple, like you could hold the thoughts in place. âThere was something wrong with me. I couldnâtâ I couldnât remember things. I couldnât stay⊠I kept⊠disappearing.â
Your voice cracked.
Mingyuâs expression shifted. Confusion. Then something closer to realization.
But you werenât done. You couldnât be. You needed him to know.
âI didnât mean to hurt you,â you whispered, your eyes glistening now. âI think⊠I think I was trying to tell you. Before.â
Mingyuâs breath hitched. Before. All those times you brushed things off. All those mornings you acted like nothing happened. All those empty spaces he filled with his own anger.
ââŠWhy didnât you?â he asked, his voice low, almost breaking.
The question wasnât sharp. It was tired.
You shook your head weakly. âI tried,â you said. And you meant it. You really did. You tried in the silence. In the hesitation. In the moments where you looked at him, hoping he would see what you couldnât explain.
âI justââ your voice faltered again, your thoughts slipping, unraveling even as you reached for them. âI just canâtâŠâ
The words blurred. The meaning faded. The weight disappeared. Like it always did.
You blinked. And suddenly there was nothing. No explanation. No memory. No pain. Just emptiness.
ââŠI forgot,â you finished quietly.
Mingyu stared at you. At the woman in front of him. At the way your shoulders sank slightly, like even you were tired of failing to hold onto your own thoughts. And something inside him broke. Not loudly. Not suddenly. Justâquietly.
The kind of breaking that comes too late to fix anything. All those years. All those assumptions. All those times he thought you didnât care enough to tryâ when you had been trying all along. Alone.
ââŠI didnât know,â he said finally.
Your eyes lifted to him.
He shook his head slowly, his voice heavy with something he had never allowed himself to feel before.
âI thought you just⊠didnât love me the same way anymore.â
The words hung in the air. You frowned slightly. Love. The word felt distant. Familiar. But not something you could fully reach.
ââŠI think I did,â you said softly.
And somehow, that hurt him more.
Silence settled between you again. But this time, it wasnât empty. It was full of everything that had been missed. Everything that had never been understood. Everything that had come too late.
ââŠYou liked toast,â Mingyu said after a while, his voice quieter now.
You looked at him. A small smile appeared. âI think I still do.â
When it was time to leave, you stood first. You always did. You looked at him one last time. Not holding on. Not letting go. Just⊠looking.
âGoodbye, Mingyu.â
He watched you walk away. And this time, he knew. He hadnât lost you because you didnât love him. He lost you because you were already disappearing, and he never saw it.
However, you wanted him to know, you always wanted him to know. You just couldn't. You couldn't. And you didn't remember since how long. . .
summary:Â 5 weddings in one year. 5 dates you saved for you and your boyfriend to attend â before he cheated. and now, you had to force your best friend, vernon, to go with you. but after losing a bet, mingyu agrees to take vernonâs place and be your date. this wasnât how any of this was supposed to go, but you guess you could settle going with your only one-night-stand from college.
warnings: oral (f!recieving), fingering, 69ing, unprotected sex, reader on top, praise, mingyu has boyfriend dick<3, sub-ish!mingyu, also power bottom!mingyu đ, multiple sex scenes, marijuana smoking/shotgunning, marijuana-induced horniness lol, one bed trope, forced proximity, miscommunication, HEAVY mutual pining. nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).
word count:Â 19.9k
note:Â first things first, APOLOGIESSSSS for this taking so long. I've had a lot going on (which I know just about everyone says) and I was lowkey struggling to write this, even tho I was so amped for it. nevertheless, I'm so glad I was able to focus and finish it, because I care so much for these two and I desperately wanted to share their story with you đ per usual, please expect angst with your smut, and if you cry, I will not judge you and honestly would love to hear it lol. enjoy friends! (taglist posted at the bottom.)
in rotation: bmf, sza / mona lisa, mxmtoon / gorgeous, taylor swift / moonstruck, enhypen / finally // beautiful stranger, halsey
Your mom had told you that the friends you make in your first year of college stay with you for life, but you didnât expect that when you met Vernon. He had been shy, refusing to speak to anyone in your orientation group, but knowing glances turned into sitting next to each other, which then had you both whispering jokes back and forth, until finally, he told you his name. Hansol Chwe to be exact, but he insisted on âjust Vernon.â By the second semester of freshman year, you both had become inseparable. He was your best friend, been with you through some of the toughest moments of your adult life, and you wouldnât trade him for the world.
Vernonâs friendship survived through many of your boyfriends, and you knew heâd outlast many more. He experienced some of the worst ones â a.k.a. the men who refused to believe you two were just friends â and also the boring ones â the one guy who used you to get to him. But none of them had pissed him off more than your most current breakup: the man who was three years your senior and cheated on you with a 22-year-old. You assumed by age 27, youâd know how to pick âem, but that was clearly wrong.
Now you were left to your own devices with five weddings to attend this year. In retrospect, maybe there was a few you couldâve skipped, but you hated saying no in situations like this. You had agreed to go to all of them with your now ex-boyfriend in mind, placing a 2 on the inviteâs attending line. Per usual, Vernon had stepped up and begrudgingly offered himself to be your date.
So why were you now meeting up with Kim Mingyu to discuss the dates of said five weddings?
You first met Mingyu when Vernon joined a fraternity in sophomore year to make more friends. âI canât just have you. I need to have at least some friends that are dudes,â he said, which made you reply, âThatâs the toxic masculinity talking.â And boy, had Mingyu been the epitome of that statement. Him and Vernon had connected instantly, sharing the same major and an affinity for art girls. You had never really gotten along with him like Vernon had hoped, but he was ⊠attractive, to say the least.
Okay, maybe you had a crush on him. You had eyes.
But it was college and you both were on the cusp of 20. It was so hard to confess feelings back then, especially to someone like Kim Mingyu. Who you didnât particularly enjoy talking to in the first place. However ⊠he was probably one of the hottest men youâd ever seen; made in a lab for every young girlâs fantasy. Sometimes you couldnât help but just stare at him, admiring his perfect teeth or the way his honey-gold skin shined in the afternoon sunlight. (You thanked your lucky stars that Vernon joined the college football team alongside Mingyu, just so you could secretly ogle him during practice.)
Suffice to say, you did eventually hook up. In the most cliche way possible, you had both gotten a little too tipsy at the first frat party of senior year and wound up in Mingyuâs dorm, locking out his roommate for the entire night. It almost felt weird, realizing your attraction had been reciprocated, but he hardly said a word to you come morning. In fact, he never mentioned it again, period, choosing to avoid you except in group settings with Vernon. You werenât a fool; you were quick to realize it meant nothing to him, just another notch on his bedpost.
Mingyu was every girlâs dream, but Mingyu was also uncommitted.
And he was walking towards you right now.
You looked up from your phone after stalking â looking through Mingyuâs Instagram. You never followed him, never checked in on him after graduation, but you knew how close he still was with Vernon. He even posted a picture with him recently. You rolled your eyes. Despite his long hair, you recognized Mingyu instantly as he went up to the barista and ordered a coffee. You studied him for a moment, noticing that there was a curl to his hair and the way those dark stands hung around his eyes. His skin was as perfect as ever and â goddamn, did he get bigger? He was wearing a jacket over his t-shirt and you could still tell how big his muscles were.
When he finally looked over his shoulder and your eyes connected, his face remained unchanged, if not a little awkward. He walked up to you, rubbing at the back of his neck, and said your name as if it were a question. âYeah. Hi, Mingyu,â you replied with a wave. âItâs been a while.â
âFive years since graduation,â he added, pulling out the chair across from you and plopping down. âSo you stopped putting those blonde highlights in your hair?â
Your eye twitched. Before you could spit out a response, a cute, dark-haired barista came over and set a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, completely ignoring that your own was practically empty. Mingyu flashed her a smile, showing off his pretty canines as she walked away. You frowned.
Vernon had told you last night that Mingyu wasnât the same guy you knew in college, but you begged to differ.
Turning back to you, he took a sip from his mug and asked, âWhy did you want to meet up again?â
âBecause my best friend is an asshole and you lost a bet.â
âOh, yeah. That.â He nodded.
You almost didnât believe Vernon when he told you. You knew he didnât exactly want to be your date to all these weddings and probably felt like he had to, but he did offer so you didnât think much of it. Until he told you last week that he put all his guest invites on the line while playing a drinking game with Mingyu, which the latter lost. So now Kim Mingyu, your college one-night-stand that was scared of commitment, was committing to being your date to several weddings this year.
Kill me now, you thought.
âI thought drinking games and making silly bets like this didnât happen once your frontal lobe formed,â you said, and his dark eyes flickered up to yours.
âThatâs where youâre wrong,â he cleared his throat and set the mug down again. âMen never really grow up.â
You crossed your arms over your chest and sat back in your chair. âApparently,â you muttered under your breath. âHow do you have the time to actually commit to this? Donât you have a girlfriend or something?â
âOne,â he held up a single finger, âI take bets very seriously and Iâm not a sore loser. Itâs only removing five weekends out of the year for me. No biggie. And two,â he lifted another finger, âNo.â
You raised a brow. âWell, I guess that answers all my questions.â
Mingyu stared at you for a moment, running those two fingers over his bottom lip. You suddenly had a flashback to that night, remembering his hands all over you, remembering his fingers plunging inside and curling â
Not the time.
âDonât you have a boyfriend? Why put down two people on these RSVPs you sent back and then force just anybody to be your date?â He fought the urge to smile, trying to dig a little deeper into you. You werenât falling for it this time. âI love the guy, but I know Vernon wasnât your first choice to accompany you.â
âMy ex and I broke up,â you replied. âNot much to it.â
Intrigued, he sipped his coffee again. âWhy?â
âItâs none of your business, Mingyu.â
âWell, as your new date ââ
âDrop it,â you said, voice taking on a new tone. âIâm serious.â
Mingyu raised his hand in surrender, and you shook off your anger. This was supposed to be a friendly, quick conversation, but it was seemingly moving off the rails. A sigh escaped your mouth before you asked, âSo you said this is only taking five weekends out of the year. What do you do with your time? Are you working?â
âI thought I answered all your questions.â
You narrowed your eyes.
He chuckled softly, exposing those canines once again. His smile was so ⊠ugh, you needed to stop getting distracted. âI work at a restaurant four days a week as a cook, and then teach flag football at a rec facility the rest of the time. Iâve been trying to save up to open my own restaurant for years, but I got the time to be a makeshift wedding date.â
You knew Mingyu had always loved to cook â you remembered when heâd been the resident chef at the fraternity â but to hear he was still passionate almost ⊠melted you a little. Almost. You were dedicated to not being too swayed by Mingyuâs pretty words. This was a deal and that was the end of it.
âI see,â you nodded, uncrossing your arms to play with the handle of your still empty mug. âIâve been working at the same marketing agency since college. Pays the bills, you know?â
Mingyu gave you a knowing look before running a hand through the long strands. âAlways so committed.â
Your lips pursed. âOne of us has to be.â
âSpeaking of commitment,â he said without missing a beat, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans. âWhat are the dates for those weddings again?â
Save the Date for the wedding of Choi Seungcheol and Holland Levine: February 28th
It was a rainy Sunday in February. Your coworker, Choi Seungcheol, was getting married today at a local venue on the outskirts. His girlfriend, Holland â otherwise known as, Hinge Holland, when he met her on the dating app 3 years ago â was a little kooky and asked for them to be eloped that morning. Seungcheol was too in love to say no; heâd do anything she asked. They were married early morning, and lucky for you and Mingyu, all you had to attend was a reception. It was a nice way to test the waters of this deal before anything got too crazy.Â
Mingyu had picked you up in his truck, and together struggled to help lift you inside with your dress and heels on. As he drove away from the city and into a more rural area, he commented, âYour coworker must be real whipped to agree to a reception here.â
âWhat are you talking about?â You looked through your phone for the address Seungcheol had sent you months ago. âI thought the reception was at some small venue.â
Mingyu said your name, and you glanced over, seeing the smile on his face. âItâs a VFW owned by someone in his girlfriendâs family.â
You realized just how right he was when he pulled up to a spot in a VFW parking lot, seeing a crowd of Hollandâs family pour into the post. You knew what the inside of a VFW looked like; you had your sweet 16 at one. But going to a wedding reception at one was a whole different story. Were the walls so old that theyâd crumble once the DJ dared to play Dancing Queen?
Rain pounded from the sky, making the cold February wind even more chilly. Mingyu rounded the truck and opened your door, making sure to hold an umbrella above your head as you slid out of the seat. He looked ⊠okay, he looked extremely handsome in his suit, tailored exactly to his body. You were in an old, off-the-shoulder black dress with mesh sleeves that were doing nothing in this wet cold. This wedding had crept up on you, and before you knew it, you remembered you didnât have any new dresses to wear. And while it looked nice, the dress just barely zipped and you had to keep pulling up the neckline. Clearly, you had grown a bit since the last time you worn this. Probably in college.
Mingyu was staring at you now, letting his eyes wander down, and you were yanking at the neckline again. He didnât deserve to see more of your cleavage. He whispered, âYou look âŠâ
âJust come on,â you cut him off, tugging him in the direction of the VFW. He struggled to keep up for a moment, rushing to hold the umbrella above both of you.Â
As soon as you both walked inside, you realized just how dressed up you were compared to the place. The building looked like it hadnât been updated since the 1990s. There was, at least, a huge buffet-style food setup in the corner and a man so old that he probably had one foot in the grave behind the bar. A sign in front of him said, OPEN BAR, written in thick sharpie. Various family members were congregating at tables, while the DJ â who looked like a Pitbull impersonator â was setting up at the head of the room.Â
Seungcheol ran over the second he saw you meandering through tables. He had the biggest smile on his face, tugging his new wife over to introduce her to you before wiggling his eyebrows at you when he noticed Mingyu on your arm. Even Holland couldnât help but ogle him. Seungcheol was one of your closest coworkers, so it wasnât weird when he asked, âWhoâs the beefcake?â
Mingyu was too busy dealing with Hollandâs questions to hear you reply, âDonât ask. Iâve cycled through many options before I was forced to bring him.â
âIâm sure it was quite difficult for you,â he snorted, before carefully pulling his wifeâs hand off of Mingyuâs and introducing himself. Not long after, he was ushering her away to start making speeches.Â
You and Mingyu found your seat quickly, and luckily enough, you were sat with most of your coworkers. Every single one was looking at Mingyu like he was a piece of meat, but he didnât seem to notice as he had a friendly conversation with each of them. You struggled to not roll your eyes. How was he perfect with everyone? Maybe your dislike of him was irrational and unwarranted, maybe he did change. But ⊠ugh, could he fuck up for once?
Your coworker, Minghao, sat to your left, watching Mingyu converse with the young assistant â Amelia, right? â who was very clearly batting her eyes at him. Leaning towards you, Minghao whispered, âI thought you were bringing Vernon?â
Minghao was one of the few people you told about your breakup, as well as Vernon and of course, your girlfriends. It wasnât like you to go around everywhere and post on social media about your breakup; it wasnât anyoneâs business. But Minghao gave great advice, and he was one of the first people that helped you get over the heartbreak. He wasnât just a coworker. He became a trusted friend.
Turning your head, you said, âWould you believe me if I told you that he lost a bet?â
âConsidering who you ended up with,â he chuckled, âIâd say itâs a win in your favor.â
âHeâs not that great.â
âThen you might want to pull Amelia off of him before she starts sucking his face.â
The reception ended at an early hour thankfully. Most of the elderly guests were falling asleep anyway. Mingyu was a class act, per usual, trying to get you up and out of your seat to dance with him, but the last thing you wanted to do was dance to Toxic by Britney Spears in front of your boss at the marketing agency. Instead, he took the lead to asking Seungcheolâs mom to dance, and made Ameliaâs day when he asked her to join. Minghao only continued to laugh when you rejected each of Mingyuâs advances.
Once 10 PM rolled around and you both were exiting the doors of the aging VFW, you noticed the rain hadnât let up. In fact, it seemed to have gotten even worst. You had to run to Mingyuâs truck with him holding the umbrella above both of you and almost trip over your dress as you hopped up inside the cab. Assuming it would be fine to drive, just a few minutes in the rain left you both realizing that it might be extremely unsafe to drive back to the city in this weather. You really couldnât argue with Mingyu when he suggested you stay the night at a motel right down the road.Â
The woman behind the front desk at the motel was chewing so loud that you thought the wad of bubblegum between her teeth might be larger than your palm. She informed you both that the only rooms available were ones with a single queen-sized bed. As much as you desperately wanted two, youâd take what you could get. She started grabbing both of your informations to check in when a loud bolt of lightning cracked, followed by a crash of thunder. You instantly gripped Mingyuâs arm, and he paused signing his name to look down at you.
âAre you scared of thunder?â He asked playfully.
Realizing how tight you were holding on, you quickly removed your hand. âNo, Iâm ⊠itâs fine.â
His bicep felt so much harder than anticipated. All muscle.Â
Stop that.
The front desk attendant gave you an actual metal key to open your room, the number dangling from a kitschy pendant. This was the kind of motel where you needed to venture outside to get to your room, and with your arms locked together, Mingyu led you both through the pouring rain to the right building. He shoved the key in the lock, immediately opening the door and allowing you to walk inside first.
The room was smaller than expected. The heat was hardly circulating and you were still shivering. A queen-sized bed was situated in front of an old RCA TV, decorated with a comforter that looked strangely similar to the one from the 80s that your mom had given you when you first moved out. The room smelled like bleach and all you could hear was the rain on the roof. Noticing you shiver, Mingyu walked over to the thermostat and adjusted the heat.
âMaybe this was a bad idea,â you said, hugging your arms around yourself.
Mingyu pointed to the large window by the door. âI canât drive in that. It takes an hour to get back to the city and I can hardly see the road.â
âOkay, well ââ
Lightning struck again, painting the window white, and you jumped. Mingyu shook his head and walked over, closing the shades over the glass. He looked down at you, and you were acutely aware that he was the kind of person who could say everything just with his eyes. âBetter?â He asked, a smile playing at his pink lips.
He was so close that you could smell his cologne and â god dammit, you were such a sucker for men that smelled good. He smelled like violets mixed with smokey sandalwood, spicy and musky. Whatever you were going to quip back died on your tongue, leaving you to reply, âI canât sleep in my dress. I have nothing to wear to bed.â
Walking over to the tiny closet, Mingyu spotted a robe hanging up next to the vintage ironing board. He placed it in your arms and remarked, âTake a shower and put this on.â
âAre you saying I smell?â
He laughed. âNo, youâre shivering and itâll help warm you up.â
You nodded, heading off to the bathroom and shutting the door. As you slipped off your dress and let it pool onto the tile, you realized how antagonizing you were being for no reason. Mingyu had been nothing but nice to you, but you were suspecting him to switch-up at any moment. Maybe Vernon was right, or maybe you just needed to take a chill pill.
Mingyu was helping you out, after all.
After taking the warmest shower of your life and probably using all of the hot water in the motel, you walked out into the room with your robe tied firmly around your waist. The cotton smelled like mothballs and you hardly left an inch of skin showing. Granted you werenât naked underneath, but you wouldnât give him the satisfaction of seeing your underwear. Again. After five years.Â
He was wearing only a tank top and boxers while setting up a makeshift bed on the floor. You struggled to maintain focus with him looking ⊠well, like that, and eventually spoke up, âWhat are you doing?â
He hardly jumped at hearing your voice. âI figured it would just be easier if I slept on the floor. Trust me, Iâve slept in far worse places.â
âMingyu, you donât have to do that,â you sighed, pulling back the covers and tossing the mismatching throw pillows on the floor.Â
âItâs not a big deal.â
âI know, but itâs just ââ
Thunder clashed outside, sounding like pots and pans clanging together, rattling your bones.
Your eyes connected with Mingyuâs, and you pointed to the empty side of the bed. âSleep in this bed right now.â
âYes, maâam.â
You both agreed â more like, you told Mingyu and he listened â to place a wall of pillows between you two, leaving you on the edges of the bed. You curled up into yourself, your spine facing him, as Mingyu laid on his back and pinched the bridge of his nose. The rain was so loud. The thunder was deafening. You considered plugging your fingers in your ears as you slept.
Mingyu was shifting on the small sliver of mattress he had, wishing internally that he brought a joint or two with him. This bed was so uncomfortable that he probably wouldnât sleep. But hopefully, you would. Although that was seeming highly unlikely from the way your back tensed with every boom of thunder.
He watched you from the corner of his eye, and eventually, you did stop shaking. Soft snores filled the room, replacing the sound of the rain. And then Mingyu felt himself relax, swiftly falling asleep with his arm thrown above his head.
Despite the pillow wall you built, you woke up with your head on his chest.
Mingyu had wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked that day, but he couldnât find the courage to finish his sentence.
Save the Date for the wedding of Lee Chan and Adrianna Olson: April 4th
Tapping your freshly manicured nails on your bare arm, you leaned against the passenger side door of your car and huffed. You uncrossed your arms, beginning to pace outside Mingyuâs apartment building. The ceremony today started in two hours and you were about ninety minutes from the venue. Not to mention, there was only a matter of time before one of his neighbors showed up, forcibly removing you from the parking spot in front of the building you definitely did not live in. What the hell was Mingyu doing anyway? He said heâd be down ten minutes ago.Â
You tugged off your heels, realizing theyâd be a bitch to drive in, and pulled your sneakers from the back seat. Your floral, strapless sundress blew in the Spring breeze. Your curls â that looked like they couldâve been done by a toddler â whisked off your bare shoulders as you stepped into your favorite Nikes.Â
âSorry.â
Popping your head up, you halted while shoving the back door closed. You blinked, assuming your eyes were deceiving you, but there he was, sprinting down the front steps of his building with freshly chopped hair.
Mingyu was quickly walking over to shove his duffle in your backseat, pulling at his tie, when you leaned in and placed your hand on his head. Yep, that was his real hair. Those long locks that had reached his chin were gone, replaced by a hairstyle that was similar to how he looked in college.Â
âI know weâre running late,â he apologized, letting your fingers sink into the strands for a moment, âbut do you have to ââ
âThis is not about that.â You removed your hand, leveling a look at him. âYou cut your hair.â
Mingyu raised a brow. âIt was getting long.â
You paused, blinking at him. âWhy didnât you warn me of your new look?â
âI didnât think I had to?â He shrugged, genuinely confused as to why you were questioning him. âMy hair had gotten even longer since February, so I just thought Iâd freshen up for you ââ
You completely missed his words â for you, heâd freshened up for you â because you were already interrupting him. âWell, itâs just â it might look weird in pictures because my hair is up and your hair is so short. And Iâm already going to have so many people looking at us wondering why my ex, whoâs name I put on the invite, isnât here. And I just want to eliminate as much attention as possible. And, well â and ââ
Mingyu placed both hands on your shoulders. His palms were large, practically burning into your exposed skin. âAre you overthinking?â
âNo, I âŠâ
When your voice trailed off, Mingyu hesitated for a moment longer and then slid his hands off. âVernon told me that you dated the groom. Chan, right?â
Of-fucking-course, Vernon told him. Your lips pursed before you replied, âWe were friends before that, and we only dated for like a couple months in college. I introduced him to the woman heâs marrying.â
âThen why are you so nervous?â
âI think I have a lot of reasons to be nervous these days.â You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to come up with another quippy remark, but it seemed he contested and shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit. The same tailored suit he wore to the wedding in February, a few loose threads at the seams. âLetâs get going. Weâll be in the car for a while,â you said, rounding your car and hopping inside the driverâs seat.
As Mingyu dealt with finding room for his duffle in your trunk, you took this small second to text Vernon.
You: your friend is infuriating
You: also Iâm never going to forgive you for telling him that I dated chan
Vernon: youâll get over it lol
Vernon: is that the only reason why heâs infuriating?
You: HAIRCUT
Vernon: oh I probably shouldâve told you about that when I saw him last week
Vernon: sorry :/
You closed your texts when Mingyu hopped in the passenger seat, turning on your music to drown out your thoughts. The drive was long and you were lucky that you got to the venue with ten minutes to spare. You parked the car in a haste, running to your back seat and quickly tugging your heels back on. You chucked your sneakers onto the car floor, almost hitting Mingyu in the face when he went to grab his phone from the same area. Locking your car, you grabbed his arm and yanked, both of you running towards the venue attached to a pretty hotel. Mingyu, even with his long legs, was struggling to keep up. He was also slightly impressed that you could run so fast in heels, and that was definitely the only reason why he was staring at your legs. He wasnât admiring how long they looked when the wind lifted your skirt and he got a flash of your calf.
Even from your seat in the back of the ceremony, you could see Chanâs face light up as Adrianna was escorted down the aisle. She was wearing a vintage wedding dress, the veil sheer enough to see how beautiful she was underneath, and Chan was eager enough to lift it as soon as they said, âI do.â Adrianna looked like she hadnât aged a day since school, and you could probably say the same for Chan. But he did manage to finally remove the earrings he got six years ago, which made you giggle to yourself.
Mingyu pretended not to notice.
Most of the people at the wedding were old friends from undergrad, even a few Mingyu knew in passing. Every time you were approached, you prepared yourself for the same question: âWhere is He Who Will Not Be Named?â Or, for those that actually knew Mingyu: âSince when did you know Gyu?â You werenât sure how much longer you could fake a smile and laugh, pretend that your heart still wasnât sore from the breakup, rehash the same words over and over again. It was tiring; you were tired.Â
Same explanation. Same heartbreak. You wouldnât be surprised if the whole planet knew of your breakup by now. You didnât announce it anywhere, besides telling your family and close friends. It was natural for people to be curious; you had been with your ex for a couple years, enough for your family to assume that heâd propose. But then he cheated, and you found out, and you were left in pieces, tied to Kim Mingyu as your date for a full year of weddings.
You just didnât want to keep on doing this, explaining yourself ten times over, realizing that everyone was looking at you with interest. Maybe a second glass of champagne would be a good distraction âŠ
âWanna dance?â
You looked up from the rim of your empty glass. Mingyu had knocked you out of your daze, laying out a hand for you to take. The reception was lively with family and friends mingling on the dance floor, but Mingyu had still noticed you alone at the table, lost in your thoughts. Had he always been this attentive, or was he just prone to watching you?
Ignoring your internal monologue, you took his hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor. Just as Mingyu was about to place his hand on your waist, the song changed, switching to a more upbeat track you used to blast in college. You immediately started laughing at all the older folks trying to follow the beat, and then found Chan with his wife, shimmying on the dance floor. Mingyu pinched the bridge of his nose, but found himself beaming when he finally saw the smile grace your features. He didnât let go of your hand, let you twirl him to the song that took you back to the musty basement of a frat party.
Chan, at some point, had managed to dance over in your direction, bumping into you with a big grin. âI knew all the alumni here would love this,â he shouted over the music. âDo you remember when you puked outside a window once at some party and you said that it was this song that induced it?â
You were surprised when Mingyu said, âYes,â at the same time as you. Both you and Chan glanced at him, eyebrows raised, until he added, âThat was at one of my parties. I cleaned your vomit off the windowsill!â
The four of you erupted in laughter. Even Adrianna remembered that party, considering that was the night you drunkenly introduced her to Chan. She eventually pulled you away from Mingyu, leading you towards her group of bridesmaids so you all could dance together. But your eyes couldnât help but find Mingyuâs across the floor, and then he was looking at you, and â god dammit, staring at him felt like a crime youâd consider going to jail for.
Everyone was looking at him, but he was looking at you.Â
Actually, Mingyu couldnât seem to take his eyes off you. Not once.
He stared at you as if it was just you two, as if you were stripped bare before him, just for his eyes to see. You could tell from the way he bit his lip while smiling. He looked at you as if you were naked.
Soon enough, you were slipping through the crowd and by his side once again. He was now leaning against the wall by the open bar, nursing a scotch. The party was winding down; all the older family members had left, leaving Chan and Adrianna â plus a few other young couples â swaying to a classic Ed Sheeran song. It wouldnât be long until they ended the night with Canât Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley. The time war nearing 11 PM.Â
Slinking beside him, he offered the glass to you and you took a sip, wincing at the burn. You stuck out your tongue. âHow can you drink that so smoothly?â
âYears of practice,â he replied, and then flicked your nose in a way that shouldnât make you blush. But you definitely did.Â
You blinked up at him, admiring how pretty he was in the faint, yellow light. Actually, he was pretty in every light, but you liked to find any excuse to admire him. Even if you denied it.
âWanna get out of here?â You asked then, digging your nails into your palms. So afraid of rejection after all these years, even though he agreed to be here. âI think the reception is going to end soon anyway.â
âYeah, sounds good.â He set his half empty glass on a random table and straightened his back before adding, âWhatever youâre comfortable with.â
God, you needed to get it together. Those words were the bare minimum, but when he said them in that slightly muffled voice, it made your nails pinch the inside of your hands harder.
You both stood on opposite sides of the elevator, dragging up, up, up to your room on the seventeenth floor. Your eyes connected. A smile played at his lips. An unspoken tension brewing between the two of you. A feeling you didnât want to be there in the first place, but something you couldnât simply ignore.Â
This couldnât be happening. Not today. Not tonight. Not ever again.
He opened the door for you, allowing you to slip inside and grab your bag. While he rifled through his duffle, you brought your bag into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. You allowed yourself a moment to just breathe. Maybe if you kept exhaling like this, you would release all the tension from your body. You knew how silly it sounded, but desperate times called for desperate measures. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, turning your face from side to side. Was it the makeup that made him look at you that way sometimes? Perhaps he still had a fondness for lipgloss, like he did back in the day.
When you finally stopped studying your appearance, you wiped off your makeup and tugged on a pair of loose pajamas. Wearing these would be so much more comfortable â and less awkward â than the robe you wore after the last wedding. You still had nightmares about that. Carefully tiptoeing out of the bathroom, you expected to find Mingyu already in one of the two full size beds, scrolling through his phone and ignoring the noise you naturally made. But he was on the deck just outside your room, smoke billowing from his mouth.Â
You stood near the unoccupied bed, balancing on the balls of your feet, as you debated your options. A smart person would go right to sleep, leave him to his business. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously.
Despite the slight warmth to the air, you threw on a hoodie, scared of the possibility of your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. You slid open the door and immediately closed it, preventing any smoke from getting into the room. He didnât turn; he knew exactly who was behind him. His back muscles flexed underneath his suit jacket, the joint dangling between his lips as he prayed for his lighter to work again.
âYou probably shouldnât be smoking in this suit,â you said, saddling up beside him.
He chuckled, finally taking a long drag. âI promise to get it dry cleaned before our next adventure.â
Before our next adventure. You bit the inside of your cheek.
Your eyes didnât leave the joint now sitting between two of his fingers. (Jeez, were they always that big?) He let more smoke filter from his lips and into the open air, clouding up the starry night sky. Without even looking at you, he asked, âWhy are you staring?â His words hung in the silence for a moment. âHave you ever smoked before?â
You shrugged. âOnly once or twice with Vernon. Probably as freshmen.â
âYou want me to show you how?â
Blinking at him, all you could do was dumbly nod. Mingyu laughed under his breath, fighting with his lighter again, before eventually holding the flame to the end. He then cautiously passed the joint over to you, allowing the filter to brush your lips. âTake it in your mouth,â he instructed, ânow inhale.â
When you did as he asked, you mustâve inhaled far too deeply, or just didnât exhale at the right time. Because then you were coughing, doubling over as you tried to catch your breath. âHey, hey, hey,â he said, concern etched in his tone, and patted your back as you hacked up what felt like your left lung. His voice was soft, soothing, but you could hardly hear it through the ringing in your ears.
âYeah,â you sighed, voice hoarse, âIâm definitely out of practice.â
As you stood up, his hand stayed on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing patterns. Your breath stilled as you looked up at him. Playing with the joint between his lips, he said, âLet me show you an easier way.â
âOkay,â you agreed, before your conscious could stop you.
You watched as he took a long pull from the joint, sucking it all in until you could see his eyes get a little pinker, and then moved closer to you. Instinctively, your eyes closed and your lips parted, welcoming the scent of him. His lips only lightly grazed yours as he exhaled the smoke into your mouth, letting it engulf your very being, and you felt yourself start to relax. He craned back, grinning down at you, and it took everything within you to not ask for another hit right then.Â
In the moonlight, you could see why you fell hard for Mingyu. He had only gotten more handsome since college. Light, in any form, was so kind to him, but with the stars hanging above his head ⊠it allowed his dark hair to shine, casting a slightly blueish tone to his warm features. You could see the twinkling stars reflecting in his eyes, especially when he leaned back in, expelling more smoke into your mouth.
This felt too intimate. This felt like fucking.
Once you both were so high you could do nothing but laugh, Mingyu stubbed out the joint and you stumbled back into the room. You both were finally going to have a good sleep at one of these, especially since there were two beds. Rolling into your bed, you immediately burrowed under the covers as Mingyu took off his suit in the bathroom.
The last thing you expected was to feel him plop down in your bed. He was wearing so little that it made your thighs press together, or maybe that was just the weed talking. He was disoriented, laying halfway off the edge of your bed, staring at you as if you were the Mona Lisa. You huffed, âMingyuuu. You need to get in your own bed.â
âDo you really want that though?â
His words made your eyes immediately snap open. A grin was tugging at his mouth again, his teeth sinking into that plush bottom lip. Oh, so also wanted ⊠Oh.
You tried to sound cool and nonchalant, âConsidering this is a full size bed, yeah.â
Even in the darkness, even with his back to the moonlight streaming through the glass door â his presence was making you nervous. His eyes werenât leaving yours. You felt your hand inch over, your pinky curling around his.
âIf I can be so honest with you,â he whispered, licking at the corners of his lips, âyou are so beautiful that I want to kill any guy that has done you wrong.â
You exhaled, âMingyu âŠâ
He leaned in, smiling like he knew he caught you in his trap. âYes?â
You were pretty sure that you knew Kim Mingyu by now. You knew that this would be just another night that meant nothing to him. No matter how much he âchangedâ in Vernonâs eyes, it was very clear to you that he remained uncommitted. But fuck it, your heart was still burning from the breakup, stinging from the memory of people uttering your exâs name tonight. It was only going to be a kiss. Just something to soothe the pain.
He was so much closer now, invading your space, his hand completely eclipsing yours. He smelled like marijuana and lingering cologne. âTell me to stop,â he murmured, but you didnât. You let him kiss you, and god, it would be so much easier to dislike Mingyu if he didnât kiss so well.Â
It wasnât long before his tongue was pushing into your mouth, his large body looming over yours as he pressed you into the mattress a little more. And youâre desperate for it; you couldnât stop. This was supposed to be simple â just a kiss â but you could feel yourself falling under his spell, feel how his palms burned against your skin as they dragged down your torso. He explored your mouth like it was the first time, parting your legs to make room for himself on top of you. When his lips left yours, you almost let out a whine, but he helped take off your hoodie before reattaching his mouth to your neck. Those large hands snake under your shirt â up, up, and up â until he was cupping your breasts and you can feel how hard he is against your thigh.
Mingyu looked up at you as he kissed down your torso, his spit soaking through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were still wearing. He lifted one of your legs, adjusting it so your thigh could rest comfortably on his shoulder and â shit, you knew where this was going. Reaching the waistband of your panties, he begged, âLet me go down on you.â
You mulled over his words. âAre you sure thatâs a good idea?â
âNo,â he grinned against your skin, meeting your eyes from between your legs. âBut thatâs a tomorrow problem. Please?â His head tilted. âDo I have to beg? Iâm willing.â
You bit your tongue, egging him on a little as he nipped at the inside of your thigh. He bucked his hips once, them twice, trying to get the smallest bit of friction on his cock that was currently throbbing in his boxers. He grunted softly against your skin.Â
âAnd if I say, âNo?ââ You asked with a raised brow.
He lifted his head and pouted his lips. After all these years, he still managed the perfect puppy dog eyes that could make just about anyone weak. âDonât be mean,â he pleaded, and you couldnât help but giggle.
âYou like when Iâm mean,â you quipped, giving him permission by helping him shimmy your panties off. He adjusted your legs again, presenting you like a meal.
âI do,â he chuckled, his breath ghosting over your pretty, pink folds. âEspecially, when you act like you didnât want me here in the first place.â
Before you can rebuttal, heâs pressing his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue up your slit to collect the wetness that gathered there. Just the small amount of attention had you keening, your hips jumping for more of him, and Mingyu was happy enough to oblige. His tongue flicked at your clit as he slid one single finger inside of you, testing your limits. Those puppy dog eyes lifted from between your thighs, wanting to see you crumble, knowing that it was him who made you like this. You sighed out his name, your hand coming down to tangle in his hair. And god, if Mingyu didnât love that ⊠heâd be a dead man. He groaned when he felt you tug at the strands, beginning to swirl his tongue in a circle around your puffy clit.
You couldnât even prepare yourself when he shoved another finger inside, pumping them in and out at an unreasonably fast pace. But you were bucking into him, tears pricking at your eyes as you whimpered for him. It was too much but almost too little at the same time. You could practically feel him smile as he devoured you. The bed rattled against the wall when he ground his erection against the frame, so needy and aching. His plump lips suckled on your clit, your slick smearing over his face, but he didnât want to miss a drop of you. He needed more of you, so he started curling three fingers inside of you, teasing that sweet spot.
This wasnât your first rodeo with Mingyu. He knew what you could take.
âMingyu,â you whined, and he glanced up at you again with the most fucked-out eyes imaginable. And still, he didnât stop. âYouâre gonna ⊠Iâm gonna cum so fast.â
He moaned into you, then begged, âPlease. Need to taste you.â
He was so determined, so desperate to feel you shake and moan and cry until he was completely spent on the taste of you. And it wasnât long before he got his wish: as he shoved those three fingers into you, grazing your g-spot while lapping at you like you were his last meal on death row. You unraveled on his tongue, muffling your cries for the rest of the people sleeping on your floor. Biting into your hand, you had physically restrain your body from shaking as your orgasm rocked through you, but Mingyu held you down with a gentle hand on your stomach. He was staring at you again and you were staring at him and fuck, his half-closed eyes made him look like he was drunk on you. You could feel him smirking into your pussy as he collected every last drop of you, knowing that he did a good job. He sighed with relief when he could finally taste you again and again and again.
Once your body settled, you felt him start to tug at your shirt and kiss up your stomach. The thought of now having him inside you made your hands clench with excitement, but dear god, he just knocked the wind out of you and you werenât sure how you could last. You were spent, tired, probably could just fall asleep right now.
You werenât feeling his lips on your skin anymore, so you opened your eyes. The moonlight gave you just enough to see that, despite the raging boner he probably had, Mingyu was now snoring softly with his head resting on your hips. Brows raised, you almost couldnât believe that this was the moment he decided to fall asleep, but you couldnât deny that you had been on the verge of doing the same.Â
Untangling yourself from him, you quickly cleaned yourself up and wiped his face clean with a washcloth. You sighed, using all the brute strength you had to haul him up on what was supposed to be your bed, and wrapped the covers around him. You admired him for a moment, your hand coming up to smooth back his dark hair. Somehow, this felt even more intimate than you cumming in his mouth. So you quickly moved away and slipped under the sheets of the other bed, using his snores as white noise.
The next morning, neither of you spoke of what happened.
Mingyu had wanted to tell you that he had a crush on you the moment Vernon introduced you two all those years ago, even when you disliked him. And slowly but surely, he was starting to realize it never truly went away.
Save the Date for the wedding of Joshua Hong and Jordan Lo: June 20th
Two months passed and the spring air turned sweltering. It was on days like this when you rolled the windows down and wasted gas just to get an overpriced iced coffee that you reminisced. You were taken back to a time when you waited by the curb as Vernon appeared from football practice, and even though he was sweaty, you still always agreed to drive him back to his dorm on the other side of campus. You would watch him say goodbye to his teammates and â shit, the light would catch, and suddenly you were looking at Mingyu wipe the sweat off his face while laughing with the quarterback and â
Now you were thinking about Mingyu again.
You had been thinking about him since April.
All of this felt so silly, like stupid games young 20-somethings played. You knew it wasnât good for you in engage in â well, anything with Mingyu. He had always been perfectly uncommitted with women, and he was clearly obsessed with his work, posting his new recipes or pictures of him and his flag football team on his Instagram stories. You could handle this. You could be an adult and have a functional acquaintanceship with someone you found attractive.Â
So you kept your distance. On the off chance that Mingyu was free and asked if you wanted to get together (which was a shock in itself), you declined. Even if you wanted to. Even if you desperately wondered what would come of it. The next wedding wasnât until the end of June and you were already biting you lip at the thought of seeing him in a suit again.
The only person you could finally blabber to about this was Minghao, and in typical fashion, he laughed. Not that you expected anything less.
âYouâre overthinking the entire situation,â he said over drinks. âItâs completely normal for you to have a little fun, especially while healing from a breakup. Thatâs what being single is all about, my friend.â
He was right. Of course, he was right. But what if Mingyu rejected you yet again, like he did in college? You wanted to talk to Vernon about this. He always gave you the best advice with this stuff, but this was his friend. The last thing you wanted was to make his friendship with Mingyu weird.
You attempted to ignore him. You redownloaded some dating apps as a distraction. You deleted them just as fast.
On the morning of June 20th, your cousin, Jordan, was marrying her longtime boyfriend, Joshua Hong. You had only met Josh on a number of occasions, but considering that they had been together for almost twelve years, you trusted him enough to take care of her. You felt lucky to be chosen as a bridesmaid and youâd never make a fuss, but dear god, the dark blue of this dress clashed with just about everything. The color was so dark and the dress was clinging to just about all of you and Mingyuâs tie was the wrong shade of blue â
Damn, did he look handsome though.
Jordan had made you both get to the venue early for a rehearsal dinner, and then once the morning came, you were whisked off to hair and makeup. You had barely said a word to Mingyu, too scared to give him anything besides small talk, but you couldnât help but compliment the new suit he bought for the last few weddings. âFigured Iâd cave and invest in one that wasnât from Goodwill,â he explained, âfor you.â
For you. For you. For you.
Your heels were hurting your feet halfway through the wedding, and despite how hard you were trying to focus on Joshâs vows, you couldnât help but find Mingyuâs eyes in the crowd. He wasnât paying attention to anyone else, his stare burning into yours to let you know his intent. You swallowed hard. Would anyone notice if you hid your blush behind the bouquet in your hands? It felt like torture having him look at you like this, as if there wasnât an extravagant wedding happening around them, as if he wasnât Kim Mingyu.Â
It wasnât until the reception that you could finally get a word in with your cousin, some much needed alone time after what was surely going to be the craziest wedding you went to this year. You both parked yourself near the open bar, ignoring the guests on the dance floor that were screaming for another round of the Cha Cha Slide. Tucking a strand behind your ear, Jordan said, âI canât thank you enough for doing this for me. Jeez, I really didnât think when I was three and met you a couple weeks after you were born that weâd be here. But I wouldnât have it any other way.â
You grinned, âI wouldnât miss this for the world.â The bartender handed you a new glass of wine and you took a sip. âBesides, these days all I do is work or go to weddings. The life of being a permanent wedding guest, I supposed.â
âSpeaking of guests âŠâ Jordan turned her head slightly, ogling Mingyu from where he was standing up and trying to decline your great auntâs advances to dance. Your cousin giggled. âHe isnât the older guy I thought youâd bring.â
âCircumstances change.â You shrugged, and she gave you a look. âIâd rather not get into it.â
Jordanâs brow raised. âYou guys are having sex though, right?â
You almost choked while taking another sip of your wine. âAbsolutely not.â
âYou sure?â
âWell, I ââ You sighed, and then decided to suck down the rest of the glass in one go. Jordan whistled. âWe did at one point. Very long time ago. But heâs Vernonâs friend and ⊠itâs a long story.â
âSounds like it,â she snorted, eyes flickering around the reception until they landed somewhere behind you. âWell, if youâre not having sex with him, my friend just might tonight.â
Your expression muddled, until she pointed over your shoulder. Turning around, you found Jordanâs Maid of Honor chatting up Mingyu near the stairs that lead to the restrooms. Her hand was inching up his sleeve and he was blushing at what you could only assume was a compliment coming from her lips. He was clearly enjoying the conversation, despite the intimate looks he was giving you earlier.Â
Classic fucking Kim Mingyu, you thought.
A pang of jealousy surfaced that you couldnât control. It was probably best for everyone if you walked away and took a breather. After Joshua pulled his wife onto the dance floor, you adjusted the tight silk of your dress and headed for the bathrooms. You walked past them, your perfume wafting past Mingyuâs nostrils, a scent he would know anywhere.Â
Instead of going inside the bathroom, you decide to stand in the empty hall connected to the venue and brace your back against the cool wall. You sighed, gathering yourself, completely unaware it wasnât just you here until you heard the squeak of someone elseâs shoes.
âYou didnât have to come after me,â you remarked, and then nodded your head in the direction of the Maid of Honor now on the dance floor. âYou looked like you were having fun.â
Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side, studying you carefully.
âSheâs pretty. Donât stop on my account, but please be aware that we are sharing a room so you canât bring anyone back there.â
Mingyuâs lips slowly curved into a grin. âAre you jealous?â
You scoffed, âNo. Iâm just ⊠being realistic.â
Taking your half empty glass from your hand, he set them both down on a side table right near the womenâs restroom. Your mouth opened, but the words died as soon as he placed a hand beside your head on the wall. He was so tall that he towered over you, even in heels, leaning into your space with pretty, half-opened eyes as he stared at your glossy lips.
âCan I be realistic with you?â He didnât give you a moment to answer. âI cannot stop thinking about our last night together. I know you probably thought it happened because of the weed, but I ⊠these past two months, itâs all Iâve been thinking about. And itâs killing me that Iâve been trying to be normal this whole night when all Iâve wanted to do is drag you away and make you cum again.â
Your breath hitched slightly at his words. He leaned in then, grazing his nose over the side of your face, desperate to be in your orbit. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and tried to control your heart rate, but how was that even possible when Mingyuâs other hand was brushing up and down your side, tangled in the silk.
âWell, that âŠâ You swallowed hard. âThat wouldnât be a good idea considering all my family is here.â
He tsked under his breath. âObviously, it wouldnât be, but âŠâ You felt his nose at your jaw, inhaling the scent of your perfume again, the one that made him crazy. And he damn near groaned in your ear.Â
âMingyu, you ⊠you ââ
âFuck, how could you think Iâm looking at anyone else here when you look this good in your dress?â His voice had taken on that needy tone he always got when he was horny. It almost felt like a reward to be able to hear it again. âIâve been half-hard this entire reception just from looking at you, remembering the way you tasted âŠâ He muttered another curse.
This was how he always acted. Mingyu could be so desperate and pleading when he wanted to get someone in bed, needy to the point he would do anything just to please you, but god â you couldnât deny how much you liked it. He was reeling you in. You were like fish to bait.
Slowly, he laced your dominant hand with his and moved it from his belt buckle to his groin. You could barely breathe when you felt him harden under your touch, and then you remembered you were still in a public hallway, where just about anyone could walk by.Â
Your eyes met his half-lidded ones as he murmured, âLook what youâre doing to me.â
And god help you, because you whimpered at the sound of his voice, slick starting to gather between your thighs.
âOkay, Mingyu, just âŠâ You sighed, composing yourself because you knew he wasnât going to any time soon. Your hand slipped away from his and he huffed, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder. âGo to our room and let me make my rounds. Iâll meet you up there.â
He stood up. For a moment, he was almost tempted to drag you into the bathroom and bury his face between your legs, too hungry to let you get away now. But one of your uncles was walking down the hall, and you separated quickly. With a nod, you walked back to the reception and said goodbye to your family that you didnât get to talk to for too long prior. Jordan gave you a look when you mentioned about going to bed early, and even Josh told you how weird you were being, but your cousin shut him up and sent you a wink.
You exhaled heavily and headed back to hotel on the other side of the venue. Slipping your heels off once you were inside the elevator, you debated if giving into Mingyu this easily was the smart thing to do. Smart? Definitely not. But would it be enjoyable? You didnât need to answer that question. Mingyu knew what he was doing.
As you unlocked the door to your hotel room, you began to wonder if you were just setting yourself up to be hurt again. He didnât come back to you like this in college, but whatâs stopping him from telling you that heâs âjust not that into youâ at the next wedding? Or what if he just thought of you as an easy hookup that would get his dick wet every 2 months? Well, you hadnât done that yet â
Yet. Yet. Yet.
The word repeated in your head like a melody, because when you threw your purse down and saw Mingyu walking out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower and dressed in only a towel around his waist, you realized that you were most definitely getting his dick wet tonight. Whether it was in your mouth or somewhere deeper, you were salivating for it.Â
He was smiling at you and you were smiling at him and Jesus, he was so goddamn handsome that you couldnât believe that he was the one desperate for you. Droplets of water trickled down his tan skin and that towel around his waist was just barely holding on. His torso was chiseled and his arms â fuck, his biceps were bigger than you remembered. He was something out of a dream â some horny, fucked-up dream that you only had after masturbating before bed.
He was on you instantly, pushing you against the wall and kissing you hard. Sighing into the kiss, your hands fist into the towel to yank him closer, but it only makes the flimsy fabric fall. You break away for a moment to mutter, âOh, shit,â but his lips canât stay away from yours for long. And heâs laughing, like you did exactly what he wanted. You were too hypnotized by the scent of his body wash to care.
Dragging his lips down your neck, he sucked at the spot that he knew made your thighs press together, grinning proudly against your skin when you moaned. His fingers gripped the soft silk of your dress, slowly pulling the fabric up to feel you that much closer. But it wasnât enough. No matter how much he liked you in this dress â and god, did he like you in this dress â he needed you out of it. Now.
Mingyu unzipped your dress with precision, setting it down on one of the two beds in the room, and both of you were suddenly wishingthere was only one. His hands smoothed down your sides, his breath hot against your mouth. He just wanted to feel you everywhere. He almost didnât want to step away, afraid youâll slip through his fingers like sand. When you two had hooked up in college, it was quick and explosive, letting out the tension that had been building for years. There was so much territory for him to cover now, so many ways for him to find out what made you whine and sigh with pleasure. But, if he were being honest, all he wanted right now was for you to â
âSit on my face,â he begged, caging you into the wall, pressing his hard cock against your stomach. So desperate for just an ounce of friction, so hungry for another taste of you. He could literally start drooling at the thought of it. He was mesmerized by you; heâd do anything you asked just to have your pussy on his tongue again.
But you seemed to be debating your options, biting you lip again, and he wished that didnât turn him on even more. You were just so pretty, and the way your face scrunched as you decided on something was a sight he couldnât help but think about when he touched himself, even all those years ago. It was just you. You.Â
Eventually, your face relaxed, and you replied, âWell, you donât have to beg me.â
Mingyuâs lips pulled into a smile, and he laughed while pulling you down onto the nearest bed. Despite his request, you continued to straddle his torso and kiss him for just a little while longer. He was needy, moaning into your mouth whenever his cock bumped against your ass, but all you wanted to feel his lips on yours, tangle your tongue with his, even if it was just for another minute.Â
You forgot Mingyu was stronger than you, though. It wasnât much longer before he was yanking your body up and turning you around so you knelt just above his face. He inhaled the scent of your pussy and almost breathed a sigh of relief, but instead muttered, âSuch a tease sometimes.â
Now that you were hovering above him, you were suddenly self conscious about how excited you were and if your arousal was seeping onto his face. You couldnât even see if he was thrilled or not, since he had turned you to face away from him, but the way his cock jumped in front of your eyes told you enough. His hands gripped your thighs tight. âI donât want to crush you,â you said nervously.
âYou could suffocate me and I wouldnât have a problem with it."
You chewed on your bottom lip. His tone was firm, probably the most serious youâd ever heard from him. But you were embarrassed and this was crazy and you still so wet. With flushed cheeks, you asked, âMingyu, are you ââ
âYes,â he answered before pulling you down onto his face.
He wasnât teasing you tonight. He was devouring you without even letting you catch your breath. His tongue swiping at your clit before he sucked on it â hard. So hard that you let you a sound that was a mixture of a yelp and a moan. Gripping you roughly, he spread you wider, drinking more of you in. Your hips moved on their own, grinding against his face, which made him groan into your pussy. The vibration in his voice spread throughout your entire body, goosebumps lining your flesh. âMingyuuu,â you whined, begging for more, and you could practically feel him smirk as he flicked at your swollen clit.Â
Leaning forward, you turned your head up and noticed again just how hard he was. His cock had always been perfect: the perfect size, dark pink at the tip, veins etched into the shaft. Precum beaded at the head, sliding down every so slowly, as he throbbed and ached and â god, his hips were almost thrusting into the air now. You didnât doubt he could get off for hours on this, but that didnât mean he needed to be unsatisfied.
Besides, you wanted something to do with your mouth anyway.
Mingyu whimpered as you shifted slightly to reach his cock. Your body stretched, your mouth at the perfect angle as you flicked the head with your tongue. He pulled you back towards his mouth, shoving his tongue inside your tight hole and making you gasp at the same time you licked a stripe up his shaft. His tongue worked you open while you swirled your own along the tip, and then finally took him into your mouth.
The grunt he released shouldâve caused an earthquake.
You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, choking when he bucked into your mouth. You could hardly breathe, taking every opportunity to inhale through your nose, but you couldnât stop. You didnât want to stop. God forbid, you have a hobby like wanting Kim Mingyuâs cock in your mouth. He took the liberty of grinding you against his face with his own hands, wrapping his lips around your clit again, eager to taste your climax. And to be honest, he wasnât sure how much longer he was going to last if you kept sucking on his tip like that. He groaned each time, feeling your tongue circle his head before going back down, taking as much as you could, as if you were rewarding him. And he just couldnât help but whine along with you.
Your lips pulled off him to kitten lick the veins along the sides of his shaft, and you breathily asked, âAre you close?â
His only response was a moan straight into your pussy.
You nodded, even if he couldnât see it, before your mouth opened like second nature. You spit on his cock and stuffed him down your throat once again. Head moving faster, you were slobbering on him like a dog in heat, trying not to gag and failing. Your free hand snaked up to cup one of his balls, and the sound he released was deafening. His tongue flicked and sucked at your clit like he had nothing left to live for, hungry for every last drop of your essence.
But then you were cumming, and he was too not long after.
You cried, choking on his cock as you came all over his face. White blurred in your vision, and you were a mess of sweat and spit and so much cum. He exploded in your mouth a moment later, hot seed running down your throat, and you consumed all of it. Neither of you wanted to miss out on the taste of each other. It was filthy, intoxicating, how much you liked this. How much you could suck him off over and over again, and not get tired of him.
You didnât know it at the time, but Mingyu would say the same about you. If not worse.
He could spend all day between your thighs and never want to leave.
When you both finally angled off each other, spent and exhausted, your breathing was heavy and off by two seconds. Mingyu was glancing over at you before you could even process, a smile playing at his swollen lips. He brushed away a strand of hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.
âMingyu,â you finally said, âhas anyone ever told you that you have boyfriend dick?â
Mingyu had wanted to tell you how much heâd been dreaming of that moment, how much you had haunted his dreams and left him waking up so hard that he felt he was going through puberty again. Sometimes he dreamed of how good it would feel when he finally slipped into you, inch by inch. Youâd feel like home.
Save the Date for the wedding of Lee Seokmin and Quinn Song: July 31st
You couldnât go a day without talking to Mingyu. Whether it be through text or over the phone, you were joking with him, telling him about your day, and vice versa. Just a month prior, you had tried keeping your distance, but now ⊠you simply couldnât help yourself. It was like there was a voice inside your head telling you to contact him, to send him a funny video you saw that day, to tell him about the show you were currently watching. And on nights when you had too much to drink, that voice made you text him that you missed him. He always said he missed you too.
Mingyu: Iâm watching that show you recommended
Mingyu: kinda wish you were watching it with me
Mingyu: but Iâm still content here and I can see why you like it so much
You: right?? I knew youâd like it!
You couldnât help but giggle at your phone when his texts came through. And you answered them immediately, like you always did.Â
Mingyu: what are you doing right now?
You: wouldnât you like to know
Neither of you made the effort to go on an actual date. It was all just flirty texts with a TikTok mixed in every once in a while. Promises about going back to that coffee shop someday, but never planning the day. To be honest, this was one of those moments where you were glad Mingyu was so uncommitted. If you started going on dates that didnât include a vow exchange in between, it would be so easy to fall for him again, and then be let down when he eventually didnât want to see you after wedding season.Â
Mingyu: I mean thatâs why I asked
You: Iâm hanging out with
A pillow was suddenly thrown at your head. âOw!â You shouted, head shooting up from your phone to glare at Vernon sitting on the other side of the couch. âWhat the hell was that for?â
âAnakin is literally burning alive and all you can do is look at your phone!â Vernon scoffed, turning Revenge of the Sith back on. You set your phone down on your lap as he muttered, âKinda wish I never won that bet.â
Vernon, obviously, was becoming increasingly annoyed that you and Mingyu had rekindled ⊠whatever this was. Sometimes you wondered if you were talking to Mingyu more than your best friend, but given the way Vernon was acting, that was probably the case. You probably shouldnât even be texting Mingyu while hanging out with Vernon. Bad friend move; happens to the best of us.Â
You apologized to Vernon in the best way possible: you bought him fried chicken from his favorite spot.
The wedding was being held on a pretty island in the northeast, nestled on the expansive grounds of a bed and breakfast in the area. The spot felt warm and lived in, the exact kind of place you imagined Quinn would get married at.Â
Meeting Mingyu at the airport had been awkward, but at the very least, you two were sitting in different rows of the plane. Maybe it shouldnât have been as cringe-worthy as it was, given the fact that you two had been talking nonstop, but it was the memory that the last time you did see each other in person, you were sitting on his face and his cock was so far down your throat â
Mingyu had found your eyes a couple rows behind him on the plane. Even he was blushing now, as if he could read your thoughts.
You had rented a car once you reached your destination and threw him the keys, letting him drive the convertible down the coast while the summer breeze whipped through your hair. You tried not to notice the way his hand twitched on the gear shift, like he was itching to place his palm on your thigh, to ground himself to your presence. But he didnât. He couldnât. Especially when all you could do was stare out the window with a big smile on your face.
Unfortunately, you had to book a room at a small hotel near the bed and breakfast since all the rooms were used for the wedding party. The hotel was quaint, but definitely old and smelled like the Febreze scent your mom used to love when you were a kid. Your room was tinier than the pictures implied, but it was on the first floor and had a screen door that opened to a pretty view of the ocean. You didnât have much time to enjoy it though, considering that the ceremony was in a few hours and the reception would probably carry on until way past midnight.
You decided to rewear the floral sundress that made a previous appearance at Chan and Adriannaâs wedding. It wasnât like anyone here was at that event, and honestly, you didnât care. Throwing your hair up into a perfectly messy updo, you curled a few pieces and took your time with your diligent makeup routine. Mingyu was in his suit before you could even blink, biding his time while you got ready by watching past game recordings of the flag football team he taught and trying to identify key moves they missed out on. As you finished up and clumsily slipped on your shoes, the perfume you sprayed seemed to beckon him like a siren song, and suddenly, he was leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, meeting your eyes in the mirror.
Your brows shot up. âDone with your flag football research?â
âYouâre beautiful,â he replied.
You turned, unable to stop your lips from pulling into a soft smile. His expression was so warm, cheeks tinged slightly pink either from embarrassment or a nasty sunburn. He was beautiful. In ways you couldnât even comprehend.Â
Holding out your necklace to him, you asked, âCan you help me put this on?â
He nodded, plucking the dainty chain from your palm. You moved back to the mirror as he struggled to open the clasp with his thick fingers, but he got it eventually. Placing the thin, gold chain around your neck, you watched the small, star-shaped pendant sit so delicately under your collarbones. He fixed the clasp on your neck, his fingers brushing the top of your spine, and you watched him lean forward in the mirror.
His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, breath hot and making the hairs on your neck stand up. âI meant it, by the way,â he whispered, and then placed the softest of kisses behind your ear.Â
Your breath hitched, and you were unable to form a single coherent thought. For the first time in a while, he was catching you by surprise. He was moving back, and you noticed him smirk in the mirror, knowing exactly how he was affecting you. That annoying asshole â
âReady to head out?â He asked, grabbing his wallet from the desk.
You huffed and tugged the strap of your purse onto your shoulder. âOf course.â
The grounds of the bed and breakfast were bigger than you assumed, enough to fit an extremely large tent and hardwood floor for all the guests to congregate. The ceremony was held near the shoreline of the ocean, and it was so, unapologetically Quinn to have a few seashell pins in her veil as she walked towards her husband. You had known Seokmin as long as Quinn had been your roommate, but you had never seen this kind of smile on his face until now. He completely lit up at the sight of her, and he didnât waste a second to say, âI do,â once his time came.
As the guests crowded into the tent for the reception, Mingyu seemed to hold onto you like a toddler with itâs parent. His arm was locked around yours, letting you lead him through the crowd, even though he was tall enough to see over the tops of everyoneâs heads. His palm was so warm on your wrist, and then his fingers were so easily lacing through yours, and you squeezed because you simply couldnât help yourself.Â
You were able to find your table easily, but you didnât recognize the other people already there. They introduced themselves as Seokminâs friends, and you remembered seeing one or two of them at a bar. You still couldnât get a read on these people, and found yourself swiftly growing silent around their shared camaraderie. But Mingyu was suddenly so talkative, catching along with their jokes just as quickly, so you stood and whispered in his ear, âDo you want a drink?â
He leaned back to meet your eyes, and you swore time stopped for a moment. His hand reached down, squeezing your wrist, as he said, âYou know what I like.â
Jesus. Fuck. Since whendid he have you this wrapped around his finger?
(Probably since sophomore year of college.)
You nodded, swinging your head in the direction of the bar, and your feet had started to head there when you halted in place. It almost felt like your heels were glued to the floor as you found the face of the last person you expected to be here. The only face that could make all the noise drown out around you.
Your ex.
He still had that same curl that always got in his eyes. He was wearing the same suit he wore to your motherâs engagement party last year. The same watch on his wrist; the same cufflinks. Same. Same. Same. And now, he was meeting your eyes across the room. Bodies formed in clusters under the tent â some hugging, some stumbling into each other â but he was unable to look away.
Until a head popped up in front of him, standing from her chair at the table. Her wedge sandals almost made her taller than him, and her dress looked expensive enough that he probably bought it. You didnât know her, but you knew of her. Well, at least, you knew what the back of her head looked like, and that was her right there.Â
You couldnât forget the night even if you tried. Exhaustion had your shoulders sagging as you unlocked the door to your boyfriendâs apartment. He didnât typically keep it locked, but you had a key anyway. You remembered how quiet the place was, except for the soft sounds echoing from his bedroom. At first, you thought he was just masturbating, and to be honest, you were too tired to engage in anything tonight. But a voice in your head had urged you to move, to go, go, go towards his room. And you were slowly pushing open the door, only to find your boyfriend fucking your 22-year-old neighbor from behind, yanking on her short hair like a leash. You had been too scared to move, too scared to breathe, but eventually, you had started wailing. His eyes had found yours â exactly like in this moment â and he screamed, slipping away completely as your back slid to the floor. He had tried explaining, tried to yell at the young girl, but everything had drowned away in that moment, and all you could hear was the ringing in your ears â
Your breathing was growing rapid, just like that day at his apartment. Sprinting to the inside of the bed and breakfast, you tried to act normal and say hello to whoever you knew mingling by the bathroom. But something was clearly very wrong. It was evident in your eyes, the way tears were pricking at the sides. You almost thought the universe was pulling a cruel prank on you, but then you remembered that it was Quinn who had introduced you two in the first place, that he had been a friend of a friend.Â
Climbing up the staircase in the lobby, you plopped yourself down on the middle step and let your face fall into your hands. You began to count your breaths â one, two, three, one, two, three â anything to make you get a semblance of control. But you could feel your brain spinning, and your heart was beating too fast. Was this what it felt like to die? Was your cheating ex going to be the last face you saw before you completely slumped against this staircase? Vernon always said you had a flair for the dramatic. What a fitting way to end.
You felt a weight sink into the plush carpet next to you, and you lifted your head, tears brimming your eyes.
âYou do realize that this isnât your party. You canât cry if you want to,â Mingyu joked, reaching out and swiping the tear at your lash line. His eyes softened then, looking at you like you were something fragile, like a baby bird. âWhatâs wrong?â His voice was hardly about a whisper.
You sniffled, dabbing at the corners of your eyes with your knuckles. The last thing you needed was your makeup messed up. âThis is so embarrassing. Iâm crying over something so âŠâ Your words trailed off, noticing that he was leveling a look at you. You sighed before admitting, âI forgot that the bride, Quinn, might invite my ex because they were friends. Somewhat.â
âYour ex? As in that ex?â His brow shot up, and you nodded. âDid he come alone?â
You looked down at your hands in your lap, and after a moment, you watched his large palm slowly envelope one of yours. The rough pads of his fingers â the hands of a cook â brushed over your knuckles, and his touch was so warm that it could burn.Â
His voice was soft in your ear as he said, âYou donât have to talk about it if you donât want to.â
You chuckled a little, turning to look at him again. âThen weâd be sitting on this staircase forever.â
He smiled at you and stretched out his long legs. âThatâs fine with me.â
Your lips pursed, and you found him staring at them for a moment. A sigh escaped, and you glanced down at your laced hands. How perfectly they fit together, how he held you with such a fierce softness. His thumb grazed the scar on your knuckle that you got the first time you fell off your bike. Finally, you answered, âHe came here with the girl he cheated on me with.â
Mingyu didnât speak, but you did hear him do a sharp intake.
âSheâs twenty-two. She didnât â she doesnât know any better. Heâs in his early thirties and heâll do it again,â you continued, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. âI found them in his apartment after I came home from a late meeting at work. It was ⊠messy. Walking in on them, the fallout, now this ⊠everything about that breakup has felt like one big mess. And now, I have to see him here and be reminded of it allâfuckingâover again.â
You didnât even dare to meet his eyes as the next words tumbled out of your mouth, already feeling your voice start to break again. âIt didnât just hurt because I found them. It hurt because ⊠I never wanted to become my mother. I love her. I really do. But the last thing I ever wanted was to become her. Be in the same situation as her. And yet, there I was, witnessing yet another infidelity that would affect my life for what seems like forever.â You rubbed at your running nose. âI found my father cheating too. It wasnât exactly the same. I found him kissing my best friendâs mom in my parentâs bedroom one night when my mother stayed at work too late. The sentiment still stands, and history was always bound to repeat itself. Daughters always become their mothers and I always have to bear witness to another man not choosing to stick around ââ
Mingyu stopped you by turning your face towards his, one hand cupping your cheek. His thumb skimmed the tears running through your blush. He didnât say anything; his eyes let you know that he was here. That he was sticking around. Despite everything you thought of him, despite your past â Mingyu was here.Â
He held you for as long as you needed, gathering you in his arms and cradling your head against his shoulder. He let your tears soak into the fabric of his expensive suit, promising heâd get it dry-cleaned, which made you laugh. Your fingers clutched his lapels and you almost considered not letting go. You would give anything to stay in this bubble, to sit on this staircase in his embrace forever.
âI meant what I said all those months ago,â he said, his voice muffled from his lips at the crown of your head. âI would kill any guy that has done you wrong. Do you want me to kill him?â
You chuckled and raised your head from his shoulder. âWhat are you gonna kill him with? A butter knife?â You shook your head. âNo chef is gonna let you in that kitchen tonight to grab a weapon. You of all people should know that.â
Mingyu grimaced. âThis conversation is getting morbid.â
Another laugh bubbled at your lips. âYou brought it up!â
âAnd youâre smiling again,â he said, making your hands hold onto him tighter. âThatâs all I could ask for.â
Such simple words could take your breath away, especially when they came from his mouth. You searched his eyes for a moment, your fingers now smoothing out the creases in his lapel. Eventually, you whispered, âI donât know if I can survive this whole reception. I hate the awkward tension, but I should stay for Quinn.â
âTrust me, I know,â he snickered, and his hand covered over yours as an anchor. âI say we stay at the reception for as long as your comfortable. Then we go to bed early. Whatever works for you.â
Your smile was so kind as you nodded along with his plan. After touching up your makeup, you took his hand and let him lead you back to the reception. Once you saw Quinn in her short, after party dress and looking at Seokmin with stars in her eyes, you instantly felt more at ease. This was her day; you wouldnât let one person sour it. And Mingyu, clearly, wasnât going to let your own nerves sour it either. Anytime you locked eyes with your ex, there Mingyu was, distracting you by whispering in your ear how pretty you looked or asking you about your best memories while living with Quinn. There was one moment where you saw your ex heading in your direction, assuming he was finally going to talk to you, and Mingyu stood up to whisk you onto the dance floor. His large arms enveloped you, holding you close, as you swayed to one of your favorite songs. Everything about him felt safe, secure, and he even let you stand on his feet when you told him you had never been that good at dancing. And when you looked at him, you noticed that he was staring at you like how Quinn looked at Seokmin during her speech. Even when you had cried, had let him in, see parts of you that not even Vernon touched ⊠he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.
You stayed at the reception far longer than anticipated. When you told Mingyu that you were too tired to stay any longer, he didnât question it. He simply grabbed your purse and jacket before taking your arm in his, walking the short distance back to your Febreze-ridden hotel. The first thing you did once you were back in your room was take off your heels. They were only a kitten heel, but your feet were already blistering, and you winced as you went to the bathroom to wash off your makeup. Mingyu had set your stuff down on the small desk before walking out onto the deck connected to your room. You craned your neck out, assuming he was going to smoke a joint, but he was just staring at the ocean, noticing how loud the waves crashed against the shore.
You padded out of the bathroom and leaned against the door frame for a moment, admiring him in the dim light. It almost left in you in disbelief how you had roped Kim Mingyu, one of the most attractive men youâd ever met and probably one of the longest crushes youâd ever had in your life, into being your wedding date for an entire year. He had a lost a bet, but he really didnât have to be here. He didnât have to invest in a new suit. He didnât have take the time off from his two jobs. He didnât have to listen to your trauma, or look at you like you were this painting to be worshipped, this Mona Lisa of sorts. Mingyu couldâve said no.Â
But he didnât.Â
âIâm going to take a shower,â you finally informed him, and he turned to meet you eyes. âCan you help me out of my dress?â
He nodded diligently, following you to the bathroom. You pulled your hair up with one hand, and with deft fingers, he slid the zipper down your back. Typically, you would hold the dress to your chest until he left the bathroom, out of respect, but you were letting it pool at your feet tonight. You stepped out of it, your gaze locking with his as you turned on the shower. You were giving him this look and he was still standing there in his half-buttoned dress shirt, hands forming into fists as he fought the urge touch you. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for your permission.
But you didnât even have to say anything. Your eyes said the words for you. As you climbed into the standing shower, he took his time removing his suit, pretending as if he wasnât fucking dying to have his hands on you, and then he was behind you, the hard panes of his chest flush against your back. He closed the shower door as the glass began to fog up.
The water was scalding as it rained down on your head, steam forming around the small bathroom. You could still feel the dried tears on your face, imprinted underneath your makeup all night, and you did your best to wash them away. Mingyu noticed the way your shoulders sagged, the way you sighed while you were lost in thought, and as much as wanted touch you in places that made those sweet sounds fall from your lips, he held himself back. Instead, he let his hands comb through your wet hair before scrubbing shampoo into the strands. You relaxed against him, closing your eyes as he washed your hair.
It was so domestic that you could cry.Â
(Again.)
The last person you ever thought could be capable of this kind of care was Mingyu. You both had known each other for eight years, and not once had he displayed this kind of person around you. Or maybe you just werenât paying attention, too lost in your own perception of him. Even now, you couldnât help but remind yourself of when he avoided you after the hookup in senior year. He really isnât the same guy, Vernonâs voice echoed in your head. Give him a chance. You had never trusted those words, but in this moment ⊠you realized where you had went wrong.
The water began to get cold when it came time to wash his own hair and you could tell he was struggling to rush. His mannerisms made you giggle, and even though the steam began to dissipate from the room, you still turned to his front and rested your forehead on his chest, letting the lukewarm water beat down your neck.
When you walked out of the shower, you had never felt more fresh and at ease. Your body was all warm and you had brought the comfiest pajamas for summer weather. The breeze wafting off the ocean blew through your room from the open screen door, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore could lull you to sleep.
But right now, it seemed like neither of you were keen on the subject. As you slipped under the covers next to each other, you were grateful that there was only one bed: one large, king-sized bed that both of you could be using to spread out. Instead, you were huddled close, hair still wet from the shower, and his arms locked around you like he couldnât bear the thought of letting you go. Your hands cupped his face, studying parts of him that you didnât think of in your previous lust-induced hazes. Fingers traced his lips, brushed over the tip of his nose â where his tiny mole was stamped â before you skimmed the shell of his ear.
You almost didnât recognize your own voice as you whispered, âThank you for tonight.â
âAnytime,â he smiled.
A beat of silence. Hands stilled. Lips pursed.
âMingyu?â
âYeah?â
âPlease, kiss me.â
His mouth was on yours before you could even finish the sentence, but he still took his time exploring new ways to make you moan into the kiss. He kept one hand splayed on your back, pressing you further into him, while the other played with the hem of your loose t-shirt. Your hands knotted into his hair as he kissed you slow, savoring you like a fine meal. And you simply let him. You were like molten lava, melting in the palm of his calloused hands.Â
You felt his fingers prod at the waistband of your shorts, and it was game over. Slipping them under, he practically whined into your mouth when he realized you hadnât put any panties on after the shower. His mouth disconnected from yours, fingers sliding between your slick folds. âAre you trying to kill me?â He breathed against your lips.
âIn my defense,â you chuckled softly, âI forgot to bring them to the bathroom.â
He laughed with you, and you were debating on crying again because he was so kind and good and definitely just as obsessed with you as you were with him. No matter how many times you didnât want to admit it, you had somehow fallen into Kim Mingyuâs trap once again.Â
He kissed you again, hungrier this time, as he spread you open with his fingers. You whimpered, but he swallowed it with his tongue and began to rub tight circles on your clit. Your leg lifted, hooking onto his waist, and you bucked against his hand. Your body felt like it was on fire, but Mingyu was careful, plucking your strings like a guitar, and you needed moremoremore. Pushing two fingers inside of you, his kiss was like a sound barrier as he consumed all your sweet sounds, as if that would allow him to hear them forever.Â
It was only when you came apart that he dragged his lips to your neck, wanting to focus on your moans as he fucked you with his fingers. He felt you shake, your pussy squeezing his thick fingers, and he kept rubbing your clit through it, wanting to prolong your orgasm as much as possible. If not for you, then for him, just so he could hear you. He would make you cum as many times as you wanted if it meant he could hear his name falling from your lips.Â
Neither of you wanted to stop; all fumbling hands and shaky limbs as he finally tugged your shorts off. It was a lot more difficult to take off his boxers without separating from you, but you laughed and you were so pretty that he almost forgot what he was doing in the first place. Once he was situated, you rolled on top of him, straddling his lap. You held his face in your hands, and for a moment, you could almost see reflections of the dark ocean outside in his starry gaze. Your palms drifted down, fingertips tracing the hard panes of his chest. He was all muscle, sculpted like your very own David statue; his complexion so similar to golden hour personified.
You lifted your t-shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. Mingyu was already so hard that it hurt, but he took a few more seconds to stare at you. He wanted to remember this moment forever: the sight of you on top of him, naked and vulnerable, hair wet and a faint blush on your cheeks.
Sitting up on your knees, you positioned yourself right over his cock and gripped the shaft to get the perfect angle inside of you. You were looking at him and he was looking at you as you lowered yourself slightly, grazing his tip against your wet slit, still dripping from your previous orgasm. Mingyu groaned at the sensitivity, throwing his head back against the pillow and muttering, âThis is so mean.â
âYou like when Iâm mean,â you giggled, repeating the same words you uttered that fateful night after Chanâs wedding, when Mingyuâs face was buried between your thighs.
And Mingyu recognized it too, a grin making itâs way to his lips. But that was soon replaced by look of complete bliss as you finally sunk down onto his cock. He was the perfect size, filling you just right but never uncomfortable. He gave you a moment to adjust, but you could tell from his white-knuckled grip on your hips that he was damn near fighting the urge to thrust up into you. He didnât though. He was patient and perfect and all yours.
You anchored yourself to him with one hand on his shoulder, beginning to rock into him at a snailâs pace. Your eyes connected, and even as he moaned underneath you, he was unable to stop smiling. Mingyu let you set the pace, and you took your time, getting to know what speed had him pulling your hips harder. The angle had him buried so deep inside that you could practically feel him in your stomach, and you sighed each time as you moved against him.Â
âFuck,â he whined, shifting to sit up against the headboard. âIâve needed you so bad.â
âI know, I know,â you confessed in a breathy whimper. âMe too.â
He was digging his fingers into your hips so hard that you were sure thereâd be marks, but you didnât care right now. You just wanted him, wanted this. Wanted to be this connected to him and feel him this deep and cum together as the waves crashed against the shore outside. He began to move you on his own accord, bouncing you on his cock as he leaned forward to nip and suck at your neck. âSo pretty,â he mused against your skin, breath stuttering as your walls tightened. âSo pretty sitting on my cock.â
You were the one whining now, raking your fingers into his dark strands as your thigh muscles burned. Your breasts jumped with each slam of his hips against yours, and he planted hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat, dipping his tongue into your collarbone, before latching his mouth around one of your nipples.
Your hands pulled at his hair. âMingyu, please,â you cooed, not exactly sure what you were begging for. Just moremoremore.Â
His eyes lifted to yours and you watched him fucking smile while tugging at your nipple. You were melting like putty, and he was able to still move you with one hand, using his free one to cup your other breast and run his thumb over that nipple. Tears pricked at your eyes, feeling him pulse inside you with each pass. And when he started to thrust up into you, you were pretty sure that you were close to seeing stars.
âWanna cum with you,â he rasped while switching breasts and flicking his tongue over your other nipple. âPlease, wanna cum inside you.â
You nodded, too cock drunk to say anything besides, âYesyesyes.â
He was rolling your hips now, practically rutting into you as he lifted his head from your chest, leaving a trail of spit. You leaned down and let his lips ghost over yours. Moans slipped from your mouth into his, and he was bouncing you on his cock so fast you almost couldnât register to breathe. His breath was hot against your lips, so close he could feel his body shaking, but he needed you to be closer, needed to feel you tightened around him and milk him for everything he was worth.
Snaking a hand between your bodies, he found your clit easily, knowing your body better than anyone ever had. All you could hear in that moment was the sound of the ocean through your screen door and skin slapping against skin. You were so wet and warm and â shit, you were starting to clench around him. He rolled your clit between two fingers, and a whimper slipped out of his mouth when he felt your pussy clamp around his throbbing cock.
He needed to cum and so did you and â fuck, he could feel it, feel you, feel how deep he was inside.
He would do this forever if you asked.
âFuck, Mingyu, oh my god, right there, right there ââ You pleaded in his ear, feeling yourself tip right over that edge â
Then you were cumming.
And so was he.
You moaned his name like it was a prayer, shattering as you came undone. Your walls were squeezing him like a vice, and he was unable to hold himself back anymore, burying himself to the hilt before painting your insides white with his orgasm. Hips jerked, bodies went taunt. You felt your whole being dissolve into nothing but pleasure, molding yourself to him in his arms. When the rush of warmth started to fade and he felt your combined releases seep from between your thighs, he breathed out a sigh of relief, brushing kisses over your jaw.
You werenât sure you were in your right mind. Everything was so hazy. But you didnât want to move away just yet. Even when his cock started to go soft inside of you, you stayed connected to him, pushing his hair back from his forehead and whispering praises in his ear like, âYou were so good ⊠So good to me ⊠My Mingyu ⊠Iâve always been yours âŠâ You could feel him smiling against your skin, his hands tracing circles on your lower back.
But as time seemed to stop and you felt peace for the first time in a while, you realized just how deep you had fallen. You were drowning in him.
Mingyu had wanted to tell you that it felt exactly like his dreams. If you were drowning in him, he had already sunk to the bottom a long time ago.
Save the Date for the wedding of Nathan Chaney and Your Mother: September 5th
Your mother was remarrying. Her and Nathan had been together since you went off to college, and then got engaged just a year after you graduated. They decided on a long engagement, choosing to plan out a destination wedding in the Caribbean. You thought it was crazy at first, but then your mother said, âIf this is going to be my last wedding â and it is â I want to go out with a bang.â You couldnât exactly blame her. After your dad had cheated and the divorce was finalized, you knew your mother deserved something like this. She deserved the world.
When she had called you just a week before the wedding, babbling on about who you were possibly bringing now that your ex was completely out of the picture, you paused. Holding the phone to your ear and watering one of your half-dead plants with the other, you said, âIâm ⊠Iâm going with Mingyu.â
âVernon?â She asked, not believing what you said.
âMingyu.â
âLike ⊠the Mingyu from university? The football player?â
You sighed, playing with the dead leaves on the plant. âHe was also â and still is â one of Vernonâs good friends.â
âOh,â your mother said, more surprised than anything. âWell, you better watch for Nathanâs sister. If Mingyu looks anything like how I remember from Family Day, she will go buck wild over him.â
âIâll make sure of it,â you chuckled.
The truth was ⊠you werenât exactly sure how this wedding was going to go. Ever since the last one, you had been progressively putting more distance between you and Mingyu. Once again. Your last night together had been so real ⊠too real, and you wanted to save yourself from the heartbreak after this wedding when you never saw him again. As much as you hated to admit it, feelings were now involved, seeping into your bloodstream, until your heart thrummed like the sound of his name on your tongue.Â
Slowly pushing him away ⊠it hurt, but it was better this way. Pain was temporary and so was your arrangement. You knew that going into it, so how did you end up in this mess? You remembered what had happened after Chanâs wedding, the way Mingyu looked at you as he was shotgunning smoke into your mouth and â yeah, you knew exactly how you ended up here.
If you kept telling yourself this was for the better, maybe youâd start believing it. Maybe your feelings would drift like smoke and your motherâs wedding would be a final farewell before you two went your separate ways.
But you had been doing that for a month now.
And those feelings refused to fade.
You had an early morning flight the day of your motherâs wedding. Typically, you wouldnât be getting to a destination wedding on such short notice, but the ceremony was small. So small your mother refused to have a rehearsal dinner and no bridal party. It was about her and Nathan, and you had to respect that she was doing things her way this time around.
You had waited at your gate right before doors closed for Mingyu, since you were on the same flight. But he was clearly running late and you were much too awkward around him now to text him. So you finally got on the plane and found your seat, noticing the one seat in the back still left unoccupied. Once you had landed five hours later, you quickly headed to the hotel that Nathan had booked for the ceremony and reception. Your phone lit up as you hailed a ride.
Mingyu: Iâm sorry, I got a new flightÂ
Mingyu: Iâll be there just 2 hours after you land
Mingyu: Iâll make it for the ceremony. I promise
Feeling his anxiety radiate through your phone, you believed him, and then wondered if maybe this was a blessing in disguise. You were rewarded a few more hours of alone time before you had your last hurrah with Mingyu. Maybe if you buried your feelings deep enough, you wouldnât tense up the second you saw his face. Maybe if you didnât look into his eyes, you wouldnât have the urge to kiss him. Or let him hold your hand. Or spread your legs to welcome him inside â
You dropped your lipgloss onto the bathroom counter, sick of your own thoughts. Your square-neck, baby blue dress was clinging to every curve, but you felt like you were being suffocated by the fabric. You had just finished doing your hair and makeup, but you couldnât quite keep your thoughts at bay. Nerves batted against your skull, making your hands shake slightly. What would you do once Mingyu walked in? Would you avoid his stare? Would you tell him immediately how much you liked him and how this wouldnât work out and you knew you set yourself up for heartbreak â
Maybe you needed a walk.
Grabbing a spare pair of sandals, you headed outside to walk the beach just along the grounds of the hotel. There was still an hour before the ceremony, and you could just see the planners putting finishing touches on the decorations laid out on the shore, where your mother wanted it to take place. Couples were still walking through the water. Kids were making sand castles. The sun was slowly beginning to set and the breeze was whipping your hair off your shoulders.
And you smiled, despite everything you were feeling. Because where there was an end, there would always be a new beginning.
âHEY!â
You spun around, your sandals sinking into the sand. Although you recognized his voice, the last thing you expected to see was Kim Mingyu running towards you in his pristine black tux, his tie loose around his neck and blowing in the breeze. It was like something out of a movie, the kind of movie where there was supposed to be a happy ending, but you knew you werenât afforded luck like that in real life.
He stopped in front of you, running a hand through his hair. Sand sprinkled down the tops of his shoes.
âWhen did you get here?â You raised a brow.
âAbout twenty minutes ago. I flew in my tux because I figured I wouldnât have enough time to change. But now it just kind of smells like âŠâ He lifted the sleeve to his nose and inhaled. âLike peanuts and old plastic.â
You giggled, holding a hand to your mouth and just ⊠staring at him. He was smiling at you, fangs poking out from under his top lip. His skin was even prettier in the sunset. His hair, despite the messy texture, was effortless and perfect. He embodied sunshine in its purest form.
âWell, you âŠâ You looked to the water, your hands flexing at your sides. âYou didnât need to come find me out here.â
His voice was sweet, soft, like fresh sheets, when he replied, âYes, I did.â His hand reached out a little, attempting to lace your fingers together, but he stuffed them in his pockets instead. âWhen I was wondering where youâd be, I remembered something you said to me in college ⊠Do you remember Move-In Day of junior year when we had that bonfire with Vernon and a few other people? You really didnât enjoy my company back then, but I sat next to you because you agreed to sharing that god awful cheap vodka we used to like.â He laughed when you grimaced. âWe got to talking and I asked you, âIf you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?â And you said something like, âI want to be walking on a beach. Iâve always felt the most calm with my toes in wet sand.ââ
You blinked, wondering if you had heard him right. He ⊠how did he ⊠âYou remember that?â
âI remember a lot of things.â
And there he was, reaching out again and brave enough to brush his fingers over your knuckles. You looked down, watching his hand interlock with yours, and his palms were balmy and calloused. They felt familiar, like home. And you simply couldnât believe that you had deprived yourself of this.
âDid you mean it when you said, âIâve always been yours?ââ
Your head snapped up, tsking under your breath. Hand still intertwined with his, you pushed a lock of hair behind your ear. âYou came all the way out here to ask me that?â You asked, flustered and agitated.
His brow shot up. âSo thatâs a yes then?âÂ
Your mouth opened, but then closed when you realized that he caught you.Â
He added, his voice like velvet again, âThen why are you avoiding me? I can sense it.â
âWell, if youâre that sensitive to other peopleâs feelings than I guess that ââ You paused, taking a deep breath as you gathered yourself. Your ears reddened. âLook, I think itâs pretty obvious that Iâve ⊠I like you. A lot. But having feelings for you would be so messy. The last time I went through this, we hooked up and you hardly spoke to me after.â
Mingyuâs brow furrowed. âThat was years ago.â
âYou know how uncommitted youâve always been,â you quickly remarked, even though you didnât fully believe those words anymore. âWerenât you the one that told me at the start of this that men never really grow up?â
His eyes narrowed a little. âAre you playing psychological warfare with me right now?â
Slipping your fingers away from his, you shrugged. âMaybe.â
âIâve been your date to five weddings this year. It wasnât just about losing some bet. I did it for you.â He stared at you incredulously. âAre you really going to hold me to a mistake I made six years ago? When I was a shitty 22-year-old that was terrified to tell the girl I liked for years that I was interested in her?â
âI never ⊠I never thought you liked me back then.â
Mingyuâs gaze softened, and he tucked another curl behind your ear that blew in the wind. âI made you believe that I didnât because it was easier than admitting my feelings. I was terrified of rejection. And an idiot.â
You couldnât help but snort at his comment, but you knew this conversation was far from over. âWell, I âŠâ You rubbed at your nose and turned away from him, facing the water that looked almost sapphire in color. The waves sparkled under the setting sun. âWedding season is over after this and we can both go back to our normal lives. Vernon wonât flip a lid when he sees me texting you all the time and everything will be back to the way it was. I always prepared for you to just forget about me after this anyway.â
âI love Vernon, but this isnât about him.â Mingyu stepped forward into your line of vision. âWhat if I donât want to go back to the way things were?â
Your eyes flickered to his, and it was his turn to step closer again. His large palm cupped your cheek, his skin always so cozy and inviting that you just had to lean into him. Fingertips traced your brow bone as his gaze lingered on your lips.
âI donât want to forget about you or never see you again. I want to be around you,â he confessed. âI ⊠want to go on more dates with you. I want to be your date to more than just weddings.â
You hesitated, unraveling and dissecting each word in your head, before you came to the conclusion that ⊠oh, my god, he had feelings for you too. Had you always been this much of an absolute moron?
Getting on your tiptoes, you closed the distance between you two, your lips crashing onto his like the water against the shoreline. Your body almost suctioned to his, bringing him even closer when your arms wound around his neck. He kept that one hand on your cheek, the other splaying on your lower back, like how he always did when he was nervous. But he had nothing to be nervous about, because you liked him and he liked you. The world felt like it was spinning, but also just right, and his tongue was licking into your mouth enough to make you feel breathless. You could do this forever, be this relaxed in his arms, kiss him as if it was only you two in your own world. And as he tugged on your bottom lip to make your breathing heavy, you decided that your dream had become a reality.
When you broke the kiss, your cheeks were definitely flushed, even under the layer of blush you put on. Mingyu grinned, tilting his head as he whispered, âSo you have always been mine then?â
âSuch a tease sometimes,â you repeated his fateful words from June.Â
You turned, tugging on his hand playfully as the waves begin to lick at the sand near your feet. âCâmon,â you chuckled. âIf weâre late to this wedding, my mom will kill me before I can even think about calling you my boyfriend.â
Mingyu had wanted to ask you to marry him only two years later, and thank god, he finally found the words.
âá°.áâź You were never subtle about loving Mingyu. And he was never ready to love you backâNot until you stopped trying.
It wasnât one grand gesture that changed everything. It was the way your silence hurt more than your love ever did. And maybe thatâs how Mingyu finally realized⊠he lost something worth chasing.
pairing: mingyu x f!reader
genre: soft angst with a fluff payoff, mutual pining (but only one-sided at first), unrequited love⊠or so you thought, slow burn with fast feelings, idiot in love (feat. kim mingyu), emotional damageâlightly salted, redemption arc with a clumsy king, he got stung (literally and figuratively), he doesnât get it until itâs almost gone, he starts chasing when you finally stop
word count: 4.7k
a/n:Â a little long gut-wrenching, heart-twisting, head-banging love story because sometimes love isnt easy... like getting concert tickets to see svt... who said thatttt
It startedâstupidly enoughâwith Mario Kart. Mingyu had just knocked your car off Rainbow Road for the third time in a row, and youâd had enough.
You slammed your controller down, eyes narrowed. âAre you doing that on purpose?â
Mingyu blinked, all bright eyes and faux innocence. âWhat? Winning?â
âYou pushed me off the edge.â
âYou were in the way!â
âI was winning!â
âAnd I fixed that for you.â
You glared. âYouâre actually insufferable, you know that?â
He grinned, all teeth. âYou love it.â
You did. That was the problem.
You stood up abruptly, heading to the kitchen to cool off. Not from the gameâfrom him. From the stupid way his laugh curled down your spine, from the way his hoodie sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, from the fact that being around him made your chest feel too tight and your skin too warm.
He followed you, obviously. Mingyu had the emotional awareness of a Labrador retrieverânever noticed a line unless heâd already trampled across it.
âYouâre really mad?â he asked behind you, voice still light, like it was a joke.
You yanked open the fridge, using the cold air as a shield. âI just donât want to talk right now.â
Mingyu leaned against the counter. âWhy are you taking this so seriously?â
âI said I donât want to talk.â
âAnd yet,â he said, like he was the cleverest man alive, âhere you are.â
You slammed the fridge door shut.
He flinched. âOkay, damn.â
You turned to him, chest rising and falling. âWhy do you always have to push things?â
âBecause thatâs just how we are,â he shot back. âWe fight, you get mad, and then tomorrow weâre fine.â
âMaybe Iâm tired of that cycle, Mingyu.â
That quieted him. A second too long passed. âWhatâs your problem?â he asked then, tone different nowâlower, almost defensive. âSeriously.â
You met his gaze, felt the burn of too much and not enough. And then you said it, tired, quiet, deadly honest: âYou. Apparently.â
His face fell. You almost wished heâd laugh, roll his eyes, make a joke. But he didnât. Mingyu stood there, the smile gone from his face, the line hanging between you like it was trembling.
âYou donât mean that,â he said, voice barely above a whisper.
âI do,â you replied, and it was the worst kind of truth.
Because you meant it in all the wrong ways.
You meant he was your problem because he was in your heart all the time. Because he smiled at other people and it made you feel like youâd swallowed glass. Because he called you his best friend but kissed other girls at parties. Because you wanted more, and he never noticed.
You meant he was your problem because you couldnât stop loving him, even if he never looked at you like you were more than someone to knock off Rainbow Road.
But you didnât say any of that. You just stood there, the truth unspoken, and watched as he finally looked away.
ââŠI didnât know you felt like that,â he murmured.
You shrugged, eyes stinging. âNow you do.â
He nodded once. âRight.â And then he left the kitchen. And you didnât stop him.
The venue was too warm, the music too loud, and youâd been watching Mingyu from across the dance floor for twenty minutes now.
He looked good. Too good. White button-up sleeves rolled up, loose tie hanging down his chest, a dimple flashing every time someone made him laugh. He didnât even like weddings, but there he was, making everyone else feel like they were in the middle of one of those slow-mo K-dramas where the male lead turns and locks eyes with you across a crowd.
And god help youâhe did.
He saw you, smiled, and motioned for you to join him. You didnât even hesitate. By the time you crossed the floor, he was already holding a hand out, the first few notes of a slower song bleeding through the speakers.
âDance with me?â
You snorted. âIs that even a question?â
Your fingers slid into his like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because at this pointâit was.
You'd danced with him before. Countless birthdays, one New Yearâs Eve, even your prom. But this time felt different. Maybe because he was looking at you like he wasnât sure if he should keep holding your hand. Maybe because you were done pretending it didnât mean something to you.
So this time, you said it. While his hand rested on your waist and yours found its way to his shoulderâwhile the crowd around you blurred into noise and laughter and someone elseâs romanceâyou looked him straight in the eye and said:
âYou know Iâm in love with you, right?â
He blinked. âWhat?â
âYou heard me.â
âWhy are youââ He laughed nervously, but his grip on your waist tightened just slightly. âWhy are you saying that now?â
âBecause itâs true. And because you never believe me when I say it.â
You werenât smiling. You werenât joking. And for once, you didnât cushion it in a tease.
Mingyu stared at you, like he was seeing you for the first time. âYouâre serious.â
âI always have been.â
The song played on. His friends were laughing somewhere nearby. Someone was shouting lyrics off-beat in the background. But all you could see was him, and the way he wasnât letting go.
âYou shouldnât keep saying things like that,â he said, voice lower now.
âWhy not?â
âBecauseâŠâ He shook his head, eyes dropping to the floor, âyou know I canâtââ
âI know,â you interrupted, gently. âBut Iâm not asking you to say it back.â
He looked up.
âIâm not saying it to get something out of you,â you continued. âI just want you to know. I donât want to pretend like Iâm not in love with you anymore.â
âYouâre going to get hurt.â
You smiled, soft but fearless. âI already am. But itâs fine. Iâll live.â
You could feel the crack in the air between you, something fragile and dangerous. But you werenât scared of it anymore. Because love, even unreturned, was still love. And you were never ashamed of that.
It was Seungcheolâs party. Loud music, too many people, and the kind of night where everyone was slightly too dressed up for a âcasual hang.â
You found Mingyu in the kitchen, unsurprisingly, because wherever there was food, there heâd be. What was surprising was the girl pressed up against the counter next to him, laughing a little too hard at something he said.
You paused in the doorway.
She was twirling her hair. Her hand had brushed his arm onceâtwice. He didnât move away. He wasnât leaning in either. Just⊠being polite. Smiling.
But still.
Your throat felt dry. You grabbed a random cup on the table (orange soda. gross.) and sipped, eyes still locked on the scene. Then she said something. Something that made him smile a little wider. And she touched his chest. Thatâs when you moved.
You werenât jealous. (No. Never that.)Â
You were possessive. (And maybe, just maybe, you were tired of pretending that wasnât the same thing.)
You waltzed straight up to them, like you had every right to do it.
âOh,â you said brightly, slipping your arm around Mingyuâs waist. âI didnât realize we were flirting with my boyfriend tonight.â
His entire body stiffened beside you.
The girl blinked. âWaitâyouâre together?â
âMhmm,â you hummed. âCrazy, right? He looks like someone whoâd be emotionally available.â
Mingyu choked.
The girl gave a tight smile, clearly embarrassed. âRight. SorryâI didnât know.â
You smiled sweetly. âNow you do.â
She left. You turned to Mingyu and took another sip of that tragic orange soda like nothing had happened.
ââŠWhat was that?â he asked, voice low.
âJust protecting whatâs mine,â you said with a shrug.
He stared. âWeâre not even dating.â
You looked at him, unfazed. âDoesnât make it any less true.â
âWhy do you keep doing this?â
âDoing what?â
âSaying stuff like that.â
You tilted your head. âBecause I mean it.â
Mingyu didnât say anything. Didnât push you away, didnât move out of your hold. Just stood there, blinking like youâd scrambled the words in his brain.
You leaned in slightly, smiling. âRelax, Mingyu. Youâre cute when youâre flustered.â And then you walked away.
You didnât see the way he kept watching you after that. Didnât see how his fingers twitched like they wanted to reach for yours. Didnât know that somewhere deep down, a thought finally crept into his chest:
What if sheâs not joking? And worseâ What if he doesnât want her to be?
It was a night out with mutual friendsâloud bar, shared appetizers, and the kind of seat shuffling that left you and Mingyu on opposite sides of the table.
You were talking to Soonyoung about something dumb and deeply important (which dipping sauce reigns supreme) when you caught a flicker of Mingyuâs name from the group beside you.
Your ears perked up. You werenât trying to eavesdrop. It just happened. Swear.
Another voice snorted. âAnd a little dumb. Sweet, yeah, but like. Not much going on up there.â
You froze. Your fingers tightened around your glass. It wasnât even about the fact that they were wrongâMingyu was sweet. He was clingy, in a golden retriever way. But he was also smart in ways people never gave him credit for. Gentle in a world that prized coldness. Loyal when others were quick to walk away.
You stood up without thinking, sliding your chair back hard enough to make a scraping sound.
Every eye turned to you.
You leaned against their table, gaze direct. âSorry, just wonderingâhow many conversations have you actually had with him? Or do you always assume the worst about people who are better than you?â
The table went dead quiet. One of them blinked. âIt was just a joke.â
You smiledâtight, sharp. âYeah. Thatâs what people say when they run out of ways to be decent.â
Another opened their mouth, but you cut them off. âYou donât have to like him. But if youâre going to talk about someone like that, maybe make sure his friends isnât sitting six feet away.â
You didnât wait for an answer. You just turned, walking back to your side of the table.
And Mingyu. Was. Staring. Like youâd just flipped his entire universe upside down.
âYou heard that?â you asked, sliding back into your seat like nothing happened.
He was still blinking. âYou⊠didnât have to do that.â
âI know.â
âBut you did.â
âYeah, well. I donât like when people talk about you like youâre not the best thing to ever happen to this group.â
His throat bobbed.
You sipped your drink. âBesides, Iâve said worse about you to your face.â
That got a laugh out of himâbut it was a quiet one. Like he was trying to process something else. Something heavier. You didnât push it. You just went back to your fries and let him sit there, reeling. But you saw the way he looked at you now. Like youâd done something irreversible. Like he didnât know what to do with someone whoâd fight for him without flinching.
Like maybe, just maybeâ he didnât deserve it. But part of him⊠wanted to.
The karaoke room was already humid with energyâhalf-sung duets, shrieked choruses, and Seungkwan demanding a redo of âLove Scenarioâ because someone ruined his harmony.
You were two and a half sojus deep. Mingyu was across the room, nursing a lemon soju and looking way too good in that stupid oversized hoodie. And youâdangerously unhinged with the mic in your hand.
âOkay,â you announced to the room. âThis next oneâs a special performance.â
Jihoon groaned. âIf itâs another Taeyeon ballad I swearââ
âNo,â you grinned. âThis oneâs a⊠confession, actually.â
The room collectively oohed. Mingyu raised his eyebrows from the couch.
You looked him dead in the eye, bold and loose-limbed and smiling. âDedicated to the one and only Kim Mingyuâwho is somehow still clueless after all these years.â
âWhatââ
But you were already cueing the song.
âCanât Help Falling in Love.â The Elvis version. Vintage. Corny. Deadly honest.
The first note played. You swayed slightly on your feet.
đ” Wise men say⊠only fools rush in⊠đ”
Your voice wasnât perfect. You missed a few beats. But you didnât look away from himânot once.
đ” But I⊠canât help⊠falling in love with you⊠đ”
It wasnât a joke. It wasnât ironic. And suddenly the room wasnât laughing anymore.
You saw itâright then. Mingyu, sitting very still, his mouth slightly open, the flush on his cheeks rising with every note you sang.
đ” Like a river flows⊠surely to the sea⊠đ”
You smiled softly. God, you meant it.
đ” Darling so it goes⊠some things are meant to be. đ”
You finished the song without a single crack in your voice.
Silence followed. A few awkward coughs. A pity clap. Someone whistled. But your eyes stayed on him.
Mingyu didnât move. Didnât speak. Just stared at you with that lookâthat deep, unreadable lookâlike he was rewinding every second of the past three years in his head.
You gave a mock bow and handed off the mic. Then you walked over to him, leaned down just enough for only him to hear, and whisperedâ âNow you canât say I never told you.â
And you left him sitting there, heart racing, mind screaming, while the next person picked a loud song and tried to pretend nothing just shifted permanently. Because it did.
You were glowing. Thatâs the only way Mingyu could describe you.
Standing there in your little black top, drink in hand, eyes crinkled as you laughed at something Joshua Hong saidâlike he was the funniest person alive. Mingyu stood on the other side of the rooftop party, watching you laugh at someone elseâs jokes and hating himself for caring.
He didnât know when it had started.
Maybe it was the karaoke night. Maybe it was the time you told off those people for mocking him. Maybe it was the way you never once backed down from how much you loved him.
All he knew was: tonight, you werenât looking at him. And it bothered the hell out of him.
Joshua leaned in a little closer. Said something else. You laughed again, eyes sparkling. Mingyu clenched his jaw. His friend asked something beside him, but he didnât register it. And then Joshua reached outâtouched your arm lightly.
Mingyu moved before he could think. He cut across the party, drink half-full, pulse racing with something he couldnât name.
You looked up just as he stepped beside you. âHey,â you said, smiling. âYou okay?â
He didnât answer you. He turned to Joshua instead. âMind if I steal her?â
Joshua blinked, looking amused. âYou two areâ?â
The words felt foreign in his mouth. Heavy. But they were out now, and the second Joshua nodded politely and stepped away, Mingyu turned to you, the moment cracking open between you.
You raised an eyebrow. âSheâs yours?â
He realized, too late, how that sounded. âI didnât meanâwell, I didâbut not like that. I justâŠâ
You stared at him, lips parted in that dangerous donât test me way you had. âWhatâs your problem?â
The words were familiar. He blinked.
You stepped closer, arms crossing. âYou never care when I say I love you. But suddenly youâre calling me yours the second someone else talks to me?â
Mingyuâs mouth opened. Then shut. ââŠI donât know whatâs wrong with me,â he admitted, voice low.
Your expression softened just a little. âItâs not your job to chase me,â you said, quieter now. âBut you donât get to be jealous if youâre not even in the race.â
And then you left him there. Again. Heart pounding. Jaw tight. Mind reeling. Because for the first time, he finally wanted to be.
Itâd been a week since the party. Since you walked away from him. Since the words âyou donât get to be jealous if youâre not even in the raceâ replayed in his mind like a broken record that only he could hear.
And youâd gone quiet. Not cold. Not angry. Just⊠quiet.
Still warm, still friendly, still kind. But you didnât reach for him first anymore. Didnât text him random memes at 2 a.m., didnât drag him into late-night convenience store runs or demand he try whatever new snack you discovered.
You werenât ignoring him. You were just⊠living. And he was suffering. He didnât know what to do with itâthis space youâd quietly drawn between you. It wasnât a punishment. It was just a shift. And it scared the hell out of him.
Because if you werenât chasing him anymore⊠what did that make him?
He grabbed a drink anyway. Sat down across from you like it was muscle memory. He didnât even ask.
You glanced up with a small smile. âHey.â
âHey,â he replied, suddenly feeling like he was sitting across from a stranger he used to know by heart.
A beat of silence. âYouâve been busy?â he asked.
You blinked. âNot really. Just doing my thing.â
Your thing used to include him. Now it didnât. You turned another page, unfazed.
Mingyuâs leg bounced under the table. âYou⊠havenât been texting.â
Your eyes flicked up again, curious. âI didnât know I was supposed to.â
He opened his mouth. Shut it. âI mean, not supposed to. Justâused to.â
You nodded slowly. âGuess Iâve just been waiting to see if youâd ever text first.â
Silence again. And it killed him. Because he hadnât. Not once. Not really. Not unless you prompted it. Not unless you pulled it out of him. And now? He didnât know how.
ââŠDo you want me to?â he asked.
You gave a soft smile. âOnly if you mean it.â
You went back to reading. Calm. In control.
Mingyu sat there, staring at the rim of his cup, feeling like the entire world had tilted on its axis. Because for the first timeâhe felt like he was chasing you. And he didnât even know when the race started.
It was a small get-together. Nothing fancy. Someoneâs apartment. Music low, drinks flowing, people sitting on the floor or perched on counters.
You were sitting on the armrest of a couch, chatting with Jun. Of all people, of course it had to be Jun. Tall, charming, occasionally too smooth for his own good.
You werenât even flirting. Not really. Just laughing at something he said, sipping from your can, looking relaxed and unbothered. But from across the room, Mingyu was dying. He was standing with Soonyoung, half-hearing the conversation about some new ramen spot. His eyes, thoughâlocked on you.
You looked happy. And it hit him like a truck. He used to make you laugh like that. Used to be the one you leaned toward when something was funny. Used to be the one in your orbitâno, the center of it.
And now? You were drifting. And he was the one left behind.
Jun nudged your shoulder. Said something with a wink. You didnât wink backâbut you smiled. Bright. Easy. And Mingyuâs stomach twisted so hard he had to look away.
âWhatâs wrong with you?â Soonyoung asked.
âHuh?â
âYou look like someone just ran over your dog.â
Mingyu blinked, then tried to laugh it off. âNah, Iâm fine.â
But his fists were clenched. His jaw was tight. His drink had gone warm in his hand.
And his heart? Pounding. Because that feeling in his chestâthat low, gnawing ache?
It wasnât annoyance. It wasnât confusion. It was fear.
Fear that someone else was going to see you the way he shouldâve. That someone else was going to chase you the way he didnât. That someone else was going to love you out loudâ and you were finally going to let them.
And worst of all? That he would only realize how badly he wanted you⊠when it was already too late.
It was past midnight. He stared at your contact name for fifteen minutes. You hadnât texted him all day. No meme. No inside joke. No check-in about dinner plans or asking if he remembered to eat.
It was quiet. And Mingyu hated it. He tried everything. Showered. Cleaned his kitchen. Scrolled through TikTok. Walked his dog⊠twice. But his brain kept going back to that laugh you gave Jun. To the soft smile you gave anyone lately that wasnât him.
He tossed the phone on his bed. Pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. God, he missed you. And for once, it wasnât because you were gone. It was because you were finally standing stillâ and he had never even tried to meet you halfway.
Mingyu knocked on your door just before noon. You opened it, sleepy and hair messy, hoodie slipping off your shoulder. You blinked. âHey.â
âHey,â he said, voice low. âI, umâŠâ
You raised a brow. âYou good?â
âI texted you last night.â
âI saw.â
He fidgeted. âYou replied.â
âYeah. I didnât want you to think I was ignoring you.â
You stepped aside, letting him in like it was nothing. But everything in your apartment felt different nowâcolder, somehow, even with the sun spilling in through the window.
He sat on the couch. Watched you shuffle to the kitchen and pour cereal like it was a normal day. But it wasnât. Not to him. âDid you mean it?â he asked suddenly.
You paused, spoon halfway to your mouth. ââŠMean what?â
âThat you werenât chasing anymore.â
You set the bowl down on the counter. Turned to face him, expression unreadable.
âI never said that.â
âBut you stopped.â
âI got tired,â you said quietly.
And there it was again. That same weight. The same ache in your voice that heâd been pretending he didnât hear for weeks.
âI miss you,â he said, all in one breath. âLikeâus. Talking. Hanging out. The way things were.â
You tilted your head. âWhat part of me do you miss, Mingyu? The one who loved you too loudly, or the one who let you get away with pretending you didnât hear it?â
Silence. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed hard. You smiled, just a little. Bittersweet.
âIâm not punishing you,â you said gently. âBut you canât miss something you never let yourself have.â
You picked up your cereal again and walked back to the couch. Plopped beside him like nothing happened. But Mingyu? He felt like heâd just fallen through the floor. Because you were right. You always were.
And now that he wanted you⊠he wasnât sure he still deserved you.
It started with the coffee. You found it sitting outside your door one morning. Still warm. Your usual order. No note. Just there.
You figured it was a one-time thing. Until it happened again. And again. The third time, you opened your door fast enough to catch him turning to leave.
âMingyu.â
He froze. Turned, sheepish. âHey. Uh. Morning.â
You blinked down at the cup in your hand. âIs this you apologizing or bribing me into friendship again?â
âBoth?â he winced.
You narrowed your eyes. âAnd what are you trying to say with coffee?â
âThat I remember how you take it?â he offered, voice small.
You stared.
He rubbed the back of his neck. âOkay, that sounded lame. I justâI wanted to do something. I know I donât say things right sometimes, and I mess up a lot, and I never gave you what you deserved, andââ
âMingyu.â
He shut up instantly.
You sighed, stepping back to let him in. âCome in before someone sees you trying to grovel in the hallway again.â
Then there was the playlist. You got the link in the middle of the night. No message. Just: âthis made me think of you.â
You clicked it. The first track? âCanât Help Falling in Love.â You almost laughed. Almost cried.
Especially when halfway through the playlist, he added a recording of himselfâtalking to the mic like he was on a voicemail.
â...I know you probably think this is dumb. But this is me trying. I donât know how to do the big, movie-style thing. I just know I miss you. And I never stopped. Iâm just⊠really late. Iâm sorry I didnât start chasing sooner. I thought I had time.â
Your chest ached. Because it was clumsy. And painfully Mingyu.
Then there was the time he showed up with flowersâcomically too large for the vase you didnât even ownâand got stung by a bee in the process of picking them because he insisted they were from âthe nice tree you always point at during spring.â
You had to ice his hand and scold him for being reckless. He grinned the whole time. Even as it throbbed.
Because he got to be near you again. And he didnât mind pain if it meant earning your trust back.
It wasnât a smooth comeback. But you could see it in his eyes now. He wasnât just sorry. He was scared. He was hopeful. He was learning what it meant to chase with your whole heart.
And slowly⊠you started to run toward him too.
It didnât happen during a grand gesture. It wasnât some sudden, cinematic confession under pouring rain or in the middle of a crowd.
It was quiet. It was slow. It was Mingyu.
You were cleaning up after a group dinner. The others had gone home already, the dishes were half-done, and music played faintly from your phone in the corner. He was drying plates beside you. Shoulder brushing yours. Humming off-key to some song neither of you had heard in months.
You laughed when he dropped a spoon for the third time.
He whined dramatically. âWhy are spoons so slippery?â
âWhy are you so useless in kitchens?â
He gasped. âExcuse me, I was being a very helpful dish elf.â
âMore like a dish hazard.â
âYou wound me.â
You grinned, flicked water at him. He retaliated with a soap bubble to your cheek.
And thenâ your laughter slowed. So did his.
You looked up. And he was already watching you. Eyes soft. Like he was memorizing the exact shade of your smile.
âHey,â he said, voice low.
You blinked. âYeah?â
He set the towel down. Hands suddenly unsure. âCan Iââ he hesitated. âCan I say something stupid?â
You arched a brow. âSince when has that ever stopped you?â
He huffed a laugh. But his gaze didnât leave yours. âI think I loved you back the whole time,â he said. âI just didnât know what to do with it.â
You froze. His voiceâso steady, so rawâbarely broke over the words.
âI thought if I didnât say it, it wouldnât be real. Or I wouldnât lose it. But I was losing you anyway. And I hated it. I hated seeing you with anyone else, hated that I never tried when you gave me everything. And I donât want to be that guy anymore.â
Silence. He stepped closer. One hand reachingâslowly, giving you space.
âI want to be the one who chases now. And if itâs not too late, I want to catch up to you.â
You stared at him. Eyes burning. âMingyuââ
âI mean it,â he said, soft. âI love you.â
And this time? He didnât flinch saying it. He didnât take it back. He just stood there, heart wide open. You stepped forward. Wrapped your arms around his waist. Buried your face in his chest as his arms folded around you like second nature.
âYouâre late,â you whispered.
âI know,â he murmured into your hair. âBut Iâm here now.â
And just like thatâafter all the times you confessed firstâ after every whispered âI love youâ thrown into the darkâhe finally said it back. And this time?
You didnât have to chase him anymore. He was already right beside you.