#mingyu scenario

[neocrias]

just you and me

synopsis: instead of an engagement ring, your fiancé surprises you with infidelity at your graduation dinner. Luckily, his father is there to help you.

pairing: mingyu x gn reader? wc: 3,7k

warnings: age gap, mingyu older, slightly sugestive, you can see a size kink if you try.

It's safe to say your graduation cocktail party was a complete fiasco.

Everything was meticulously planned. This was the perfect weekend: your birthday was on Friday, your engineering graduation ceremony on Saturday, and the celebratory dinner on Sunday. Tables reserved, flowers chosen three months in advance, the main course tasted twice. Everything was perfect.

Your life had always been… perfect.

You were the perfect daughter, part of the perfect family, with the perfect academic record, the perfect friends, and the perfect boyfriend.

At least, that's what everyone said.

Because you two were "the it couple" since high school. You shared all the first experiences of your lives: the first kiss, first prom, first trip alone, first day at university… Your friends used to joke about your future wedding invitations after your first year together.

Love was never exactly the right word, but stability was.

You only went to the side aisle because he took too long to return to the main table. Some guests asked about him as soon as dessert was served, and he didn't come back. Your best friend whispered and joked about the idea that Chan was getting ready to finally propose to you after six years of dating.

— I'll go get him — you said, smiling.

The smile was still on your face when you opened the wrong door.

There was no doubt.

There was no plausible explanation.

There was no context that would change anything.

Chan was with another woman – a mutual friend, part of your group of friends, a guest at your table – pressed against the wall of the liquor store, hands where they shouldn't be, clothes littering the floor, a proximity that leaves no room for interpretation.

And you weren't the only one who saw. His cousins, the wedding planner, and the photographer were right behind you, waiting to record the proposal.

Chan turned first, pale with wide eyes, your name stuck in his throat. The girl pushed him away as if that would erase the scene.

— It's not what it looks like — he said.

And then you heard footsteps behind you and whispers. His cousins ​​put down their cell phones too quickly. Your perfect life crumbled there amidst boxes of champagne and fairy light decorations.

You just turned around, squeezing through the crowd and ran out of the house, ignoring all the guests shouting your name. After running six blocks in heels with serious damage to your heels, you took them off and jumped into a small, sparsely frequented bar.

— Something strong — you asked.

…

The bar wasn't awful or smelly, which helped. The light was very low, the mirror behind the bottles was smudged, and it played old music at an almost tired volume.

You were already on your third, or fourth, drink. With so little alcohol, you'd already lost count – you were never a strong drinker good with drinks anyway.

Your heels were somewhere on the dark floor, having been kicked a few times by other drunks. The hair you'd spent hours styling now fell in undone, tangled waves over the rest. Your lipstick was gone, your mascara was smudged. You looked like a drunk after three nights straight at a rave.

The delicate graduation dress was still perfect, ironically.

 — One more — you murmured, pushing the empty glass away. — This is the last one. I promise.

The bartender stared at you, raising an eyebrow with his arms crossed, before sighing and picking up the cocktail shaker. — You've said that before.

— This time it's true…

— I doubt it.

The voice wasn't coming from the counter. You turned awkwardly and slowly, and it took a few seconds for the vision to make sense again.

Mingyu.

The Kim - your ex's hot dad - Mingyu was here.

His suit was still perfectly buttoned, but he loosened his tie. His expression was too serious for that type of place. He seemed out of place, as if he had entered by mistake and decided to stay.

You frowned.

— Damn... I'm hallucinating — you murmured. — I didn't even drink that much, it was only three glasses...

The bartender grumbled grumpily: — It was five glasses.

You huffed, crossing your arms. — As if the great Kim would ever enter a lousy bar like this.

— The bar is mine.

You widened your eyes before bursting into laughter. You laughed loudly, throwing your head back and almost falling off the stool. And Mingyu sighed and lifted you off the stool as if you weighed nothing, even with all your drunken weight deposited on top of him.

…

You sat in the car in complete silence, the window slightly open in case you felt nauseous again. The cold wind lessened the urge to vomit, and Mingyu had dimmed the lights, which helped preserve what little dignity you had left.

Mingyu tried to look at you discreetly, trying to gauge your emotional state, but you could feel his pitying gaze on you, and the shame made you fix your hair—or try to fix your hair.

You took a deep breath and cried, because it hurt.

— He cheated on you — he said bluntly, and the statement fell like a weight on your shoulders. It wasn't a question; he already knew everything.

Your crying intensified, and you hunched over, covering your face. The cold wind entered through the crack in the window and sent shivers down your arms. You realized you were still trembling, not from the cold, but from sheer emotional collapse.

Mingyu gently touched your shoulder, and you leaned toward him, aligning yourself against his shoulders and hiding your face on the crook of his neck. He continued rubbing your shoulders affectionately, trying to calm you down.

— They were… — you began, but couldn't finish.

— I know — he repeated, more quietly.

You lifted your face, surprised. — You do?

— I arrived just in time — he replied. — I saw people running and whispering. I recognize a social scandal when I see one.

A broken laugh escaped you. — Of course you do. Your family lives off of it.

He didn't react to the provocation. He just rested his arms on the steering wheel, looking ahead. — Do you want me to go back there and sort it out?

— Sort it out how? — you sniffed. — Spanking your son's ass?

— If it helps, yes.

You turned your face too quickly to look at him. — That will only make him hate you more.

The car was filled with silence again. The type of silence that isn’t empty, but heavy with all the unspoken words and feelings.

— This was supposed to be my happy day — you whispered. — My parents were so proud. I had planned everything! I would have a wedding proposal the same night as my graduation and birthday party… all recorded in 4k. It would be so perfect…

— You didn't even want him anyway — Mingyu replied. Dry again.

You glared at him. — You need to say it like this?

— Only when it's true.

The headlights of a passing car illuminated the interior for a second, enough for you to notice the tension in his jaw.

— Do you think they're still at home? — You asked to divert his attention from your face… or to divert your attention from his face. Who knows.

— Obviously. You ran away and didn’t answer anyone for hours.

— I just… don’t wanna go back.

Mingyu sighed, running his fingers through his black hair. He looked so serious in profile, almost contemplative, and yet so… hot. He had this intense aura, the posture of a real man that was affecting you in a way it shouldn't.

He was your boyfriend's… your ex-boyfriend’s dad. That was a big, shining red ‘no’! But he smelled so good, his scent was warm as musk and cinnamon, and his hands… Ah, his hands were so big and pretty, even his nails were well-cared for. Even the little wrinkles under his eyes were making him look even more appealing to you.

— I’ll take you to my house and call to let your parents know.

Your heart skipped a beat. —No, that will make everything worse.

— It will — he replied with irritating calmness — but they’ll know you’re safe.

You studied his profile for a few seconds. — Don’t you care what people say about you?

— I’m a grown man, darling. If they talk about me, I don't care, I know the truth.

The crying finally stopped and all that remained was a ghost of tiredness, so you simply nodded, agreeing to go to his house. After all, what other option do you have? Go back home and deal with your parents' pity? What if Chan was still there? You'll have to deal with him now and that's the last thing you want today.

— Do you always rescue drunk ex-daughters-in-law from dodgy bars?

— Only the ones who order “the strongest drink you have” five times in a row.

— That was three.

— That was five. And by the way, stop insulting my bar.

For the first time that night, you didn't feel the ground give way anymore; it seemed calm, solid, and safe.

His apartment was surprisingly clean for a divorced man. There were no clothes scattered on the floor; it was well-maintained and well-decorated, and it smelled like the place had been recently cleaned.

— I'll prepare something for you to eat; make yourself at home — he replied, going to the kitchen.

But when he returned, you were already passed out on the sofa, sleeping in such an uncomfortable position that it made him laugh. He left the soup on the coffee table and gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you to his room.

After making sure you were comfortable and warm, Mingyu turned off the light and returned to the living room with a gentle shake of his head.

…

The sunlight filtering through the gaps in the curtain woke you, and for a few seconds you didn't recognize where you were. The ceiling was too white, and the smell was different, less sweet with a woody undertone that, since yesterday, you would recognize anywhere.

Mingyu.

You sat up carefully in bed, bringing your hand to your forehead. The headache wasn't unbearable, but it was there, throbbing like an embarrassing memory. On the bedside table was a large white t-shirt and dark cotton shorts, still carefully folded. Next to them, a clean towel and a new toothbrush.

Your heart made a strange little movement in your chest.

He had thought of this.

You ran your fingers over the t-shirt. It was clearly his. Too big. The soft fabric. The discreet scent of the same perfume from last night. You held the t-shirt in your hands, bringing it to your nose and taking a deep breath. feeling his scent.

Stop it, you weirdo! Go take a shower! You muttered to yourself and headed for the bathroom. The hot shower helped organize your thoughts, but it didn't soothe the feelings. Memories of the previous night came back in flashes: him carrying you to the car, the way he calmed you down when you were crying, his arm around your shoulders.

When you came out of the bathroom wearing his t-shirt, you realized how small it looked in you. The hem reached almost to your knee, and the shorts barely showed. You dried your hair with the towel just enough so it wouldn't drip down your back and walked down the hallway in silence.

The smell of fresh coffee and fried eggs came first. Then you entered the kitchen and completely lost your train of thought.

Mingyu was standing with his back to you, in front of the stove, shirtless.

His hair was slightly messy, still damp, as if he had also showered recently. His back was broad, perfectly defined in a way that wasn't exaggerated, his shoulders strong, and his waistline tapering to the low waistband of his sweatpants.

Mingyu stirred something in the pan with an irritating tranquility, as if it weren't utterly indecent in that sunlit kitchen. You leaned your shoulder against the wall, slowly crossing your arms.

— Do you always cook shirtless? — your voice came out hoarser than you intended.

He didn't turn around immediately. — Only when I'm in my own house.

You bit the corner of your mouth, following the line of his back with your eyes. He turned his face over his shoulder, finally looking at you and remained silent for a second longer than he should have. His eyes traveled over you slowly, going from his shirt to your bare legs. Then they went up again, more slowly, and his jaw tightened.

— Did you sleep well? — he asked softly.

— Better than I deserved.

He turned off the stove and turned to face you.

Wow! Now it was worse. He was even more absurdly handsome from the front. Everything about Mingyu was… beautiful. You felt the heat rise up your neck.

He picked up a plate and placed it on the counter. — Come eat.

You walked to the kitchen island with steps too slow for someone just having breakfast and stopped on the other side of the counter. You were so close to him that his scent was stronger there, musk and cinnamon, warm and familiar – too much for someone who shouldn't be.

— Thank you for yesterday — you said, but your eyes were elsewhere.

He rested his hands on the counter, leaning slightly — It was nothing. You were vulnerable.

— Of course! And you were a gentleman? — his tone had something provocative about it.

— I was responsible.

Your heart stumbled, you walked around the counter, approaching him almost instinctively. He held your gaze for a second longer than he should have and then stepped away first.

It wasn't a sudden movement; Mingyu straightened his posture, as if he needed to create distance—not just physical, but moral. His broad shoulders relaxed forcefully, he forced a heavy breath, the air entering his lungs more slowly. Mingyu ran his hand through his still slightly damp hair, leaving the strands disheveled.

You noticed the exact moment he decided to compose himself, and that only made you want to move forward.

His silence seemed electric to you, much louder than the sound of the city coming through the open windows. The kitchen was illuminated by a soft early morning sun, drawing shadows on the lines of his abdomen as he moved to get the glass of water from beside the sink.

You took another slow step. His t-shirt brushed against your thighs as you approached the counter. The soft fabric felt warmer now, and your heart pounded with pure excitement.

He noticed when you got too close.

Mingyu placed his hands on the counter again, but this time to anchor himself and create distance between you, as if he needed something solid under his fingers.

— Darling… — Mingyu gasped, sensing your intention and glancing away at the kitchen window. — Better not.

You stopped a few inches away. — Why not?

— I'm your boyfriend's father.

— Ex-boyfriend — you corrected.

— I'm 45 years old — he tried again, taking another step back.

— And I'm 23. But you already knew that.

You could feel the heat emanating from his skin, and your breathing slowed without you realizing it.

He looked at you again, his gaze traveling from your white shirt to the goosebumps on your legs, then slowly moving upwards, as if forcing himself to measure each of them, his jaw clenching again. He clenched his fists, trying to control himself and not do something he would regret.

You reached out without thinking too much, touching his forearm with your fingertips. It was a slow, firm touch, not at all insecure or hesitant. His skin was warm and soft, and an almost imperceptible shiver ran down his arm. You felt it because he didn't pull away immediately, only took a deeper breath.

His gaze fell to your hand and then back to you. There was something there that hadn't been there the night before. The worry, the responsibility, and the control were clouded. Mingyu turned his face slightly, as if fighting a thought he didn't want to formulate.

You took another half step, your body almost touching his. Your chest rose and fell slowly; you could hear your own breathing and his.

Mingyu closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again, there was caution. He slowly raised his hand and held your wrist. Not to pull away, but to stop you from moving any further. The touch was firm, and his large hands covered yours. His thumb pressed lightly against your skin, not hurting, just marking his presence.

The size difference between you became impossible to ignore, and you felt the heat take over your body again. Mingyu didn't say anything, but the message was clear in the way he held your gaze: there was desire there.

Contained desire.

Mingyu was fighting against himself, and losing – because his hand was still on your wrist and he still hadn't pulled away.

The closeness became almost unbearable. Your other hand slowly rose, hesitant this time, lightly touching his chest. The tips of your fingers slid over the warm skin, feeling the texture, the firmness, and the movement of his breath.

His body reacted, freezing under the palms of your hands. He tightened his grip on your wrist, and his eyes darkened.

Mingyu finally moved, taking a step back, pulling you with him because of your still-bound wrist, until he bumped against the counter. He slowly released your hand, but didn't move away.

Now he was taller, closer, his shadow falling on you. The air between you grew heavy, and you felt your own courage waver for a second. Mingyu ran a hand over his face, as if trying to organize his thoughts.

His self-control was admirable. He knew what could happen if he moved one more inch closer – and as if he knew he might not be able to stop.

You realized that it wasn't just you crossing a line; he was standing on the edge of it too, and for the first time since the previous night, he didn't seem so sure he could continue being the responsible man.

— I think… I think I'd better go then —  you said quietly, hesitantly. You didn't want to walk away, but a heavy feeling of guilt began to weigh on your shoulders.

Damn it. You couldn't do this! He's Chan's father. This would completely ruin their already troubled relationship.

The problem was that Mingyu wouldn't let you walk away. As soon as the words left your mouth, he tightened his grip on your wrist and pulled you closer. Holding you against him.

— Mingyu... if you're not sure about this, you better let me go soon.

Impulsively, Mingyu let go of your wrists to grab both your neck and wait, pulling you closer to him. Your chest bumped into his and his breath mixed into yours. Mingyu pressed both of your forehead, eyes shuttered closed, his hold on your waist tightening.

— Mingyu… — you tried to talk him into consciousness, but even to you, your voice sounded weak, unsure.

— Shh… — he whispered. — Don’t say anything now…

— You’re going to regret this later…

Mingyu took your lips in an intense kiss, his fingers sliding through your hair to pull you into the position he wanted. You melted in his arms, wrapping your hands around his neck and returning the kiss.

He deepened the kiss as if trying to silence all the thoughts that were still fighting inside him. His mouth was hot, intense, and desperate. There was no delicacy in his movements. His fingers, gripping your hair, adjusted the angle, tilting your head so he could kiss you the way he wanted. You felt the world shrink at his touch.

Your chest pressed against his made it impossible to ignore how much bigger he was. Firmer. Hotter. The kiss slowed for a second, just enough for him to breathe against your mouth, his thumb sliding along the curve of your jaw, but he didn't pull away.

Mingyu held your waist with both hands and, in a firm movement, lifted you. The contact was so abrupt that it drew a small gasp from you as he set you down on the kitchen counter.

The cold surface contrasted with the warmth of his body between your legs, and the change in temperature ran down your skin like a shiver.

He paused for a second, confirming that you were still there, that he had really kissed you, that he had complicated everything even more. Even so, he didn't want to leave and he wouldn't.

You let go of him by the nape of his neck before he could think too much. The kiss returned slower this time, deeper, more exploratory. His hands moved up the sides of your exposed thighs, tracing the path firmly, without haste. The touch was firm, but there was still something careful about it.

His fingers reached the hem of your loose white T-shirt, then he hesitated. It was only a second, but it was enough for you to feel. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him again, with more intention. Your fingers slid to the nape of his neck, lightly scratching his skin, causing him to breathe.

And then his hands slowly moved upwards, snaking beneath her t-shirt, exploring the warm skin of her waist. The tips of his fingers traced the outline of her ribs, carefully moving upwards, sensing every movement within her.

Your skin prickled under his touch, and you leaned forward, pressing yourself closer to him. Mingyu let out a low sound against your lips, something between a sigh and a grunt.

His hands moved higher, cupping your back, pulling you closer. He trailed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck. He didn't mark, just pressed his warm lips there, feeling your pulse quicken under your skin.

You intertwined your legs around his waist without realizing it, definitively breaking the last shred of self-control he still had. His hands roamed your body like two snakes, cupping your breasts.

You sighed against his lips, and his hands pressed firmly against your skin, feeling the contours of your body while you were still wrapped around his waist. Your body reacted even before your mind could keep up; a shiver ran down your spine as his hands adjusted, holding you more tightly.

Mingyu let out a low sigh against your skin, his forehead still resting against yours for a brief second. Slowly he released you, taking a step back, but his eyes still gazed at you affectionately.

— Let's do this the right way. I'll do this the right way with you.

[maisonmilli]

Sweaty Boyfriend Problems

pairing: Mingyu x reader fluff / teasing / domestic chaos

🎧Paper Rings

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings.” “Uh-huh, that’s right.”

Milli says ✍🏻✨

okay so this fic was directly inspired by the ULTIMATE shirtless mingyu running picture because WHY was he looking like that?? like sir??? you cannot just run around shirtless looking like a greek statue and expect carats to be normal about it.

also today only i saw that clip from their ongoing concert talk where they said that mingyu sweats a lot because of his metabolism while on the other hand our Diva boo  apparently doesn’t sweat that much which is honestly such a funny contrast.

also imagine being mingyu’s girlfriend , you shower you come out smelling like fresh laundry and then suddenly a giant sweaty puppy boyfriend appears and ruins everything

anyway moral of the story:dating mingyu means you are never safe after showering. ever .rip to the reader but she survived, barely.

The apartment smelled like shampoo and warm steam.

You had just stepped out of the shower, skin still warm from the water, hair damp and loosely tied in a messy bun that was already falling apart. The mirror in the hallway was still foggy from the humidity drifting out of the bathroom. Everything felt clean the soft cotton of your oversized shirt, the soft shorts , the cool floor under your bare feet, the vanilla scent of your body wash lingering around you.

Peaceful.

Fresh.

Sanitary.

Exactly the kind of atmosphere you liked after a shower.

You were halfway through making coffee in the kitchen when you heard the front door unlock.

Your brain processed the sound automatically.

Mingyu.

And then you heard it.

Heavy breathing.

Not the normal “I walked upstairs” breathing.

No.

This was the I just ran ten kilometers and fought for my life breathing.

Your head slowly turned toward the hallway.

“Oh no,” you whispered to yourself.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Kim Mingyu stood in the doorway like a human furnace.

Shirtless.

Hair messy and slightly stuck to his forehead.

Chest rising and falling from the run.

And most importantly

Sweat.

So much sweat.

Not the cute aesthetic K-drama sweat.

No.

This man looked like he had just walked straight out of a rainstorm.

His shoulders were glistening. His collarbones had little trails of sweat running down them. Even his arms looked damp. His skin was flushed from the run, his cheeks slightly pink, and his hair was darkened from moisture.

For a moment, he just stood there.

Then he spotted you.

Fresh.

Clean.

Smelling like soap.

His eyes lit up immediately.

A slow, evil grin spread across his face.

Your stomach dropped.

“No,” you said immediately.

He took one step forward.

You pointed a finger at him like a warning sign.

“Kim Mingyu. Don’t.”

He tilted his head.

Still smiling.

“You just showered,” he said, voice slightly breathless.

“Yes.”

“And you smell nice.”

“Yes.”

“And you look very clean.”

“Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Don’t even think about it.”

There was a pause.

And then

He started running.

“MINGYU—”

You screamed and immediately bolted in the opposite direction.

The apartment erupted into chaos. Bare feet slapped against the floor as you sprinted down the hallway like your life depended on it.Behind you came the thunder of Mingyu chasing you, laughing like a maniac.

“COME BACK HERE!”

“NO!”

“I JUST WANT A HUG!”

“YOU ARE WET!”

“I AM NOT WET!”

“You are DRIPPING!”

You glanced back once and immediately regretted it.

He was gaining on you.

Of course he was.

He had legs the length of a small highway.

You darted around the couch like a criminal escaping police.

“Mingyu I swear to god if you touch me–”

“I’m going to hug you!”

“DON’T!”

“You look too clean!”

“THAT IS THE POINT!”

You made another desperate attempt to escape, running across the floor toward the bedroom, but before you could reach the door —

Two large arms wrapped around your waist.

You gasped.

“No—!”

Too late.

Mingyu lifted you off the floor like you weighed absolutely nothing.

Your body froze.

For one moment, the apartment went quiet.

And then you slowly looked down.

Your arms.

Your shirt.

His chest.

The sweat.

You turned your head very slowly toward him.

“…Kim Mingyu.”

“Yes?”

“You are sweaty.”

“A little.”

“A little?”

He grinned.

And before you could react —

He buried his face directly against your cheek.

“GYU—!”

You shrieked as his damp face pressed against yours.

It was warm.

And slightly wet.

“STOP—!”

He rubbed his face against your cheek like an affectionate golden retriever.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled happily.

“MINGYU!”

You tried to wiggle away, but his arms were wrapped around you like steel bars.

He pressed another dramatic kiss against your cheek.

Then your forehead.

Then your other cheek.

“GYU YOU ARE MARINATING ME.”

“I’m sharing.”

“THIS IS NOT SHARING.”

He laughed loudly, shoulders shaking.

“You were too clean.”

“I JUST SHOWERED!”

“I ran ten kilometers.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Mingyu nuzzled his face against your hair again, completely ignoring your suffering.

You groaned.

Your fate was sealed.

There was no escaping.

After another few seconds of struggling, you finally stopped moving.

Your arms dropped to your sides.

Your soul left your body.

Mingyu paused.

“…Did you give up?”

“Yes.”

He blinked.

“That was fast.”

You stared into the distance with the expression of a cat being aggressively cuddled by its owner.

“I have accepted my fate.”

“Wow.”

He looked almost impressed.

“You’re just letting me do it now?”

“Yes.”

You sighed dramatically.

“If I struggle, it only makes you stronger.”

“That’s true.”

“You are like a sweaty demon.”

He snorted.

But now that you had stopped resisting, his teasing slowly softened.His arms loosened slightly around your waist, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he rested his chin on your shoulder. You could still feel the warmth of his body behind you, still slightly damp from the run. “You really smell good,” he murmured.

“That’s because I used soap.”

“Interesting concept.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You should try it sometime.”

He gasped in fake offense.

“I literally just came back from exercising.”

“And you decided the first thing to do was assault me.”

“I hugged my girlfriend.”

“You contaminated your girlfriend.”

He laughed again, squeezing you gently.

“Now you have to shower again.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“…Unfortunately.”

He kissed the side of your head softly this time.

Not teasing.

Just warm.

Comfortable.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then Mingyu suddenly spoke again.

“By the way.”

You sighed.

“What now.”

“You should run with me tomorrow.”

You turned around slowly.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“I like living.”

“You’ll build stamina.”

“You’ll build sweat.”

“That’s the point.”

You stared at him.

Then you slowly pushed his chest away.

“I’m going to shower again.”

He followed you immediately.

“Together?”

“NO.”

“Please?”

“MINGYU GO AWAY.”

He laughed all the way down the hallway as you shoved him toward the bathroom first.

[scarletwinterxx]

ruin the friendship - kim mingyu imagine

happy holidays my lovelies!!!🤍 of course we're ending this year with more fluff. actually i wrote this a long while ago, i just had the time now to finish editing it🥺 i hope you like it!

to everyone who has been a part of my year, even if it's a simple like on one of my story or you're an avid reader, i just want to say thank you so so so so much. really. i can't thank all of you enough for letting me have this platform to share my works🤍 see u again next year, more fluff and warm hugs coming your way! - N🌻

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The first thing you see is him towering over the glass doors of the gym, towel slung around his neck, shirt clinging damp to his chest and shoulders. Kim Mingyu, all six-foot-four of muscle and stupid good genetics, grinning at you like he hasn’t just finished benching a small car.

“Yah, you’re late,” he calls out, voice still a little hoarse from exertion. “I already finished my session.”

You roll your eyes, walking up to him. “It’s literally seven in the morning, Mingyu. Normal people don’t exist at this hour.”

“Normal people don’t get abs like mine,” he shoots back with a shameless smirk, flexing his arm like a show-off. You don’t even bother hiding the unimpressed look on your face, which only makes him laugh harder

You’re about to suggest breakfast when he suddenly turns around, pulls the towel off his neck, and holds it out to you. “Here, wipe my back.”

“Excuse me?”

“My back’s all sweaty,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And you’re already here.”

“I came here to eat, not to become your personal towel.”

He half-turns, looking down at you with those annoyingly soft puppy eyes that make it impossible to say no. “Please? Just quick. You know how gross it feels when the sweat dries. And I can’t reach properly.”

You groan “You’re six-foot-four, Mingyu. Buy a longer towel.”

He just grins, like he knows he’s already won, and waits patiently with his back turned to you. 

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, pressing the cloth against his back. His shirt is plastered to his skin, and the heat radiating off him makes you pull back a little

“You’re not even trying,” he says with a chuckle, craning his neck slightly to glance at you. “Harder. Like—really wipe.”

You swat his shoulder with the towel. “Do you want me to clean you or exfoliate you to death?”

He laughs again, low and warm, and the sound curls in your chest in a way you’d rather not think about. The muscles under your hand shift as he straightens his posture, and it’s impossible not to notice just how broad he really is. 

“Everyone at the gym thinks we’re dating,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather

Your hand stills. “…What?”

“Yeah,” he continues, grinning as he looks over his shoulder at you. “One of the trainers asked me how long we’ve been together. Said we ‘look good’.”

You roll your eyes again, maybe a little too quickly. 

You two got at the breakfast restaurant you both like. You’re halfway through your omelette when you remember what he said outside the gym. You set your fork down and glance at him across the small café table

“So…” you begin.

Mingyu looks up from his plate of pancakes, cheeks full. “Mhm?”

You tilt your head. “What did you say. To the trainer.”

He swallows, takes his sweet time sipping his iced Americano, and then shrugs like it’s nothing “Told him we’ve been dating. Three, four years maybe.”

You blink. “You what?”

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Well, technically we have been inseparable for years. I just skipped the part about us not making out.”

“You can’t just lie like that!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down because the café is busy

Mingyu grins wider. “Why not? It shut him up. He was looking at you like he wanted to ask for your number.”

Your brows knit. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” He cuts into his pancake like he didn’t just casually throw a bomb across the table. “Guys look at you all the time. You just don’t notice.”

You roll your eyes, spearing another piece of omelette. “You’re insane.”

But then the waiter comes back, some university kid, maybe early twenties, all eager smiles and way too much eye contact. He refills your water glass, asks if everything’s okay, and lingers just a second too long on you.

You’re polite, thank him, smile even. You don’t notice the way Mingyu stiffens in his seat until the kid finally walks away.

“You know he was flirting, right?” Mingyu mutters, tone deceptively casual

“Was he?” you ask, feigning innocence as you sip your coffee

His jaw tightens, but he forces a laugh. “Don’t play dumb. He was practically wagging his tail.”

“So what if he was?” you say lightly, almost testing him. “It’s not like I’m obligated to—”

“You didn’t stop him,” Mingyu cuts in

You arch a brow. “Stop him? Since when do I have to stop someone from being nice to me?”

His eyes lock on yours, a little sharper now, though there’s still that playful glint. “Since when do you let guys look at you like that?”

You rest your chin in your palm, watching him squirm. “Since I got used to you telling them off every single time.”

That shuts him up. His ears go pink, and he stabs at his pancakes like they’ve personally offended him.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Relax, Mingyu. I don’t mind. Saves me the trouble, honestly.”

His gaze flicks up, searching your face like he’s not sure if you’re teasing or dead serious. You hold it, letting the tension stretch for a beat too long before you go back to your food.

But the truth is, you weren’t lying. You’re not phased anymore when Mingyu subtly (or not so subtly) runs interference with guys who try their luck. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling weird and just… became normal. Almost like part of the deal of being his best friend.

And judging from the way he keeps stealing glances at you now, Mingyu knows it too.

The waiter comes back a little later, balancing another tray for the table next to yours. But he notices your empty coffee cup and stops by, flashing that same bright smile.

“Another refill?” he asks, tilting his head at you.

You nod politely. “That’d be great, thanks.”

He reaches for your cup, but before he can set it back down, Mingyu’s arm slides across the table 

“She’ll have iced next,” Mingyu says smoothly, handing the cup over. “Hot makes her stomach hurt if she drinks too much.”

The waiter blinks, caught off guard. “Oh. Uh, sure—iced Americano then.” He shoots you another smile, maybe to recover, but Mingyu’s already leaning back, one arm stretched lazily across the back of your chair. 

When the waiter finally leaves, Mingyu exhales through his nose, tilting his head toward you. “What?”

You shrug. “Nothing.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, a half-smile tugging at his lips

“Like what?” you counter, sipping your water with exaggerated innocence.

“Like you’re amused.”

“Well, I am,” you say honestly, setting the glass down. “Because you just scared off a college kid for doing his job.”

“I didn’t scare him,” Mingyu argues, leaning in closer now, lowering his voice so it’s just for you. “I just… clarified.”

Your brows lift. “Clarified what?”

His gaze lingers, warm and heavy, and there’s something different in the way he looks at you now, like he’s daring you to acknowledge it. “That you’re not available.”

You hold his eyes for a beat, fork poised in your hand, unbothered as ever. “Good,” you say finally, cool as you can manage. “Less trouble for me.”

Mingyu blinks, thrown off. He was expecting you to call him out, tease him, maybe roll your eyes again. Instead, you just… accept it. Like it’s natural. Like it’s his job.

You go back to your omelette, like none of this means anything. Like you didn’t just watch your best friend toe a line you’ve both been dancing around for years.

=

A few nights later. Of course you're still together, grabbing dinner like you usually would. Nothing new there really.

The restaurant is packed, bodies pressing in from every direction, voices rising in a chaotic mix of clattering plates and laughter. It smells like grilled meat and soy sauce, and there’s barely enough space between tables to slide through sideways.

You’re wedged in front of Mingyu while you both wait to be seated, the host fumbling through reservations. Every time someone brushes past, Mingyu’s arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

At first, you thought it was just a reflex. But then he keeps it there, long arm hooked across your shoulders, hand resting lightly against your upper arm, his whole frame a warm, protective wall behind you.

You tilt your head slightly, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He’s not looking at you, though he’s watching the crowd, jaw set like he’s daring anyone to bump into you again.

So you don’t say anything.

Instead, you pull the laminated menu toward you, holding it up so high he has to bend down, practically resting his chin over your shoulder just to read. The height difference makes it almost comical. Six-foot-four looming over your five-foot-one but you don’t acknowledge it. You just start flipping through the pages like this is any other night.

“So today,” you begin, voice carrying just enough over the noise, “my boss decides last minute that he wants all the reports color-coded. Like, who even cares about color-coding when nobody actually reads them? I spent two hours changing formatting while he stood over me like I’m some intern. An intern, Mingyu. At twenty-eight years old.”

He hums low in his chest, so close you can feel it reverberate against your back. “That’s annoying,” he murmurs, leaning in more just to hear you properly

“And then,” you continue, oblivious to the way his nose nearly brushes your hair, “the client calls and suddenly they want a different template, so I redo it again. Honestly, I should start charging per PowerPoint slide.”

You don’t flinch when he adjusts his stance, effectively caging you in with his body. You just keep ranting, flipping another page of the menu, pointing at an item. “Do you think we should get the pork belly? Or is that too heavy?”

The host finally calls your name, gesturing to a tiny corner table. Mingyu drops his arm, but only to guide you forward with a hand at the small of your back, steering you through the crowd.

You glance up at him, an amused little smile tugging at your lips. “You’re gonna scare someone one of these days.”

He looks down, grin easy but eyes warm. “Good. Saves me the trouble.”

And again you don’t comment. You just let him.

The table they give you is small, tucked into the corner beneath a dim light. Without a word, Mingyu slides into the booth first, leaving space for you beside him. It’s automatic by now, he knows you prefer sitting side by side instead of across.

You settle in, shrugging out of your jacket. Before you can even fold it, Mingyu takes it from you, neatly draping it over the back of the booth. Then he’s pouring you water, sliding the glass within easy reach, adjusting the little dishes of kimchi and pickled radish so they’re perfectly aligned between you.

“I’m telling you,” you launch right back into your rant, picking up where you left off, “the client clearly doesn’t even know what they want. They ask for something, we give it, then they ask for the complete opposite. Like make up your mind! It’s like trying to hit a moving target blindfolded.”

Mingyu hums again, the sound low and warm, while he absently folds your sleeve up for you so it won’t brush against the banchan. 

His attention looks split between the menu and you, but you know better. He’s always listening. Always.

One of your hands is waving animatedly in the air as you talk, but the other rests under the table naturally falling onto Mingyu’s thigh. You don’t even notice it most of the time. When you need emphasis, you give a little smack against the muscle, punctuating your point.

“—and then she had the audacity to say the formatting was wrong, when I know I used the exact same template she approved last week.” Smack.

Mingyu doesn’t flinch. He just takes a sip of his water, lips twitching as if to keep from laughing.

“Like, do they think I just sit around all day making fonts pretty? That’s my degree at work, Mingyu. My literal blood, sweat, and tears.” Smack.

From afar, anyone looking would see a picture of domesticity: you, ranting with the ease of someone completely comfortable, and Mingyu, quietly doting refilling your glass before it’s empty, sliding the side dishes closer, folding your sleeve again when it falls loose.

Every little detail screams boyfriend.

When the server arrives with the sizzling meat, Mingyu shifts automatically to shield you from the heat, hand steadying your wrist so you don’t burn yourself on the grill. 

“Eat first,” he murmurs, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Rant after.”

The meat is sizzling on the grill, the table already cluttered with small plates, and you’re off on another topic. That new show you’re binge watching

“So then the second lead you know the one I told you about? The guy with the stupidly perfect jawline? Yeah, him well he finally confesses, and the main girl just… laughs. Like, laughs! Who does that? I had to pause because I was so offended on his behalf—”

Mingyu flips a piece of pork belly, nodding along like he’s following every word. Instead, he picks up a freshly grilled piece of meat, wraps it neatly in lettuce with a bit of rice, ssamjang, and garlic, then holds it up to your lips mid-rant.

“—like, honestly, at that point, I was rooting for him instead of the lead—”

He taps the wrap lightly against your mouth until you pause. Without even thinking about it, you lean forward and take a bite.

You chew, gesture vaguely with your chopsticks, and keep talking. “Anyway, where was I? Oh right, so then the main guy shows up, late as always—”

Mingyu smiles faintly, assembling another wrap while you keep going, sliding it toward your mouth at just the right moment when you need to breathe. You don’t stop him, don’t even seem to notice anymore. It’s just part of the rhythm between you.

Feed. Rant. Feed. Rant.

At one point, you’re so caught up describing a ridiculous plot twist that you don’t reach for your drink, so Mingyu nudges the straw of your iced tea toward you, tilting the glass until you sip without missing a word.

When you finally pause to catch your breath, he slides another bite toward you and murmurs, almost absently, “Good girl.”

You freeze for half a second, chopsticks hovering over your bowl. But Mingyu doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s said. He just goes back to flipping the meat, casual as ever.

So you don’t comment. You just take the bite, chew slowly, and pick your story back up again.

But the air between you feels different now—warmer, charged—like the both of you noticed and neither of you is willing to say it out loud.

A few nights later, some of your friends decided to grab drinks after work.  The bar is dim and loud, all neon lights bleeding into the haze of smoke and chatter. 

You’re wedged into a booth with a handful of mutual friends. Drinks come in steady rounds, laughter bursts over the music, and the table is buzzing.

And yet your awareness is narrowed to the man beside you.

Mingyu takes up space without trying, broad shoulders pressed against yours in the cramped booth, his thigh brushing yours every time he shifts. Normally, you’d angle away, give yourself some room. 

But tonight? You don’t. If anything, you lean in closer.

“Yah, Gyu, pour for me too!” one of your friends hollers across the table, pushing his glass forward. Mingyu obliges with that easy grin of his, but when he sets the bottle down, his hand lingers on your knee under the table. Warm. Steady.

You don’t move it away.

Someone cracks a joke about couples at the table, and laughter erupts. “You two should just date already,” one friend slurs, pointing at you and Mingyu.

It’s not the first time you’ve heard it. Usually, you’d roll your eyes, laugh it off, maybe elbow Mingyu for effect. But tonight, you don’t even bother denying it. You just sip your drink, his hand still a quiet weight on your knee.

Mingyu doesn’t laugh it off either. He just looks at you from the corner of his eye, something unreadable flickering across his face, and lets the conversation move on.

Later, when everyone’s distracted with another round of shots, you lean forward to say something. Your lips close to his ear because the music’s too loud. He has to duck down, bend that tall frame of his toward you, and the closeness makes your stomach twist.

“You good?” you ask, fingertips brushing his arm without thinking

His gaze drops to your mouth for a split second before he nods. “Always.” His voice is low, swallowed by the music, but it hits you right in the chest

You could pull back. You should. But instead, you rest your hand on his thigh under the table again, casual as if it’s nothing. Except it’s not nothing, not anymore. His leg is warm, solid, and when his hand slides over yours to keep it there, you let it.

Neither of you speak about it.

Neither of you stop it.

By the third round of drinks, the booth has settled into comfortable chaos. Two of your friends are arguing over who’s worse at karaoke, another is halfway through telling the same story for the third time, and the table is littered with empty bottles and snack plates.

But you and Mingyu? You’re in your own world.

You’ve angled toward him now, your knees brushing his, shoulder tucked against his arm. His arm stretches casually along the back of the booth, fingertips grazing your shoulder every so often.

Every so often you chime in with the group, laughing, adding to the noise, but more often than not you’re leaning toward Mingyu, murmuring little asides only he hears. He responds the same way, ducking his head down to your height, lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as he laughs. 

Later, another guy walking past your table slows, clearly checking you out even though it’s obvious you’re not alone. Mingyu catches it instantly. Instead of glaring, he turns smoothly toward you, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to his.

“Hey,” he says lightly, like he’s about to tell you something trivial. “You tried these peanuts? They’re better than they look.”

You blink, then snort, biting back a laugh. “Really, Mingyu? That’s what you stopped me for?”

“Mm,” he hums, still holding your chin, eyes crinkling as his mouth curves into a grin. “Important information.”

The guy moves along quickly after that, and Mingyu lets your chin go, his hand sliding back down to your thigh like it belongs there.

The night stretches on, drinks keep coming, but your bubble never breaks. Friends are loud, the bar is buzzing, but you and Mingyu orbit only each other.

The night air in Seoul is cool, crisp against your cheeks as you step out of the bar, laughter still ringing in your ears. Your friends scatter in pairs and small groups, waving off cabs or heading down side streets, but Mingyu falls into step beside you like it’s automatic.

You’re a little buzzed, warm, loose-limbed, and heavier on your feet than usual. Without thinking, you grab his sleeve as you walk, fingers curling into the fabric like an anchor.

“You okay?” he asks, looking down at you with that soft grin

“Mhm,” you murmur, leaning a little closer. “Just tired.”

“Tired, huh?” He chuckles, shifting so your hand slips from his sleeve to his arm, then to the curve of his elbow where it fits perfectly. “You’re basically glued to me right now.”

You hum, unconcerned. “So what? You’re tall enough. Human streetlamp. I won’t get lost.”

That makes him laugh, a deep sound that rumbles in his chest. “Streetlamp? Out of all the things you could’ve called me—”

“It’s true!” you insist, a little pout in your voice. “You’re like six-foot-four, Gyu. I barely come up to your ribs. You are a streetlamp.”

“More like a bodyguard,” he teases, tilting his head down at you. “Keeping you out of trouble.”

You don’t argue. Instead, you lean more of your weight against him, your side pressed into his. You can feel how steady he is, how easily he matches your slightly uneven steps without ever letting you stumble.

Mingyu thrives off this. You can see it in the way his smile softens, in the way his hand drifts to the small of your back when the sidewalk gets crowded. Every little sign of your clinginess just makes him glow.

When you reach a red light, you sway forward, forehead brushing against his bicep. He glances down at you, amused.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t fall asleep on me standing up.”

“I’m not,” you say, voice muffled. “You’re comfy.”

He shakes his head, grinning so wide it’s impossible to hide. “You know you’re lucky it’s me, right? Any other guy and you’d be giving them a heart attack.”

You lift your head lazily, peering up at him. “Why? ’Cause I’m cute?”

The words are teasing, playful but they land heavier than you mean them to. His smile falters just for a second, gaze flickering down to yours, before he lets out a quiet breath.

“Yeah,” he says simply. “Exactly that.”

The light turns green, and you step forward, pretending not to notice the weight of it. But when his hand brushes yours, lingering a second too long before slotting your fingers together, you don’t pull away.

And Mingyu? He’s practically humming with energy beside you, thriving off every ounce of your warmth, your trust, your closeness.

The drive back was quiet, you’re still awake mumbling some tune under your breath

He parks near your building. He gets out first and guides you out of the car but you’re moving slow half because you’re tipsy, half because you’re too wrapped around Mingyu to walk properly.

Somehow, somewhere, your hand slipped from his to his arm, from his arm to his shoulder, and now your arms are looped around his neck, tugging him down to your height with every step. You’re small against him, but the way you cling feels like you’re claiming him, holding him close in a way you’ve never quite dared to before.

He doesn’t just let it happen, he loves it. His grin hasn’t faded once, eyes sparkling every time you tug him down so you can murmur something into his ear.

“You’re warm,” you mumble, forehead knocking against his jaw

He huffs a laugh, his breath ruffling your hair. “You’re basically hanging on me like a koala, of course I’m warm.”

“Good.” You tighten your hold around his neck, smiling to yourself. “Then don’t leave when we get home.”

That makes him glance down, eyebrows raised. “Don’t leave, huh?”

“Mm.” You nod, serious even though your nose is brushing his skin with every step. “You always go. You eat, we hang out, then you go. Don’t leave this time.”

There’s a pause, then a chuckle that vibrates through his chest. “You know you’re dangerous when you’re clingy, right?”

You lean back just enough to look at him, still holding his neck. “Why?”

“Cause you say things like that.”

Your noses brush, the tiniest accidental touch, but neither of you pulls away. The city might as well disappear. He dips his head a little more, like he can’t help it, his mouth brushing your temple. Then your hairline. Then the curve of your cheek.

You freeze, then laugh softly. “Kim Mingyu. Are you...are you kissing my face right now?”

“Yeah,” he admits, shameless. Another press of lips to the corner of your eye. “And here.” The tip of your nose. “And here.” The hinge of your jaw.

It’s not a peck and pull away. It’s lingering, addicted, like he’s cataloging every inch of you except your mouth.

“You’re insane,” you whisper, but your arms only pull him closer, your chest pressed to his

“You love it,” he fires back, lips brushing the apple of your cheek again. His voice is low, rough with how badly he’s holding back

You can’t argue. Not when you’re this tangled together, not when his laughter keeps breaking against your skin, not when his mouth hovers just shy of yours.

“Gyu…” Your voice wavers, and you don’t know if it’s a warning or a plea.

He just hums, pressing another kiss to your cheekbone, his hand sliding up your back to anchor you against him. He’s addicted, he can’t stop. Every spot but your lips, like he knows the second he crosses that line, there’s no going back.

And when you finally reach your door, both of you flushed and breathless from the walk that turned into something much more dangerous, you don’t even fumble for your keys right away.

You just stand there in the dim light of the entryway, still in his arms, still letting his mouth trail along your skin as you whisper, “Don’t leave.”

And he smiles against your cheek, like he’s been waiting years to hear that.

From his point of view, you’re chaos wrapped in warmth. A little buzzed, a little clingy, arms around his neck, tugging him down like you own him. And he lets you. 

Every brush of your nose against his skin, every sleepy “don’t leave,” has his chest tight, his heart hammering against his ribs like he’s twenty again and not a grown man who should know better.

So when you pout up at him, lips just there he almost caves. Almost.

Instead, he cups your cheeks with his hands, thumbs brushing your warm skin. He presses a kiss to one cheek, then the other, holding your face like it’s the most fragile thing in the world. 

Then, just once, he lets himself linger at the corner of your mouth. Close enough to taste the faint sweetness of your drink, close enough to feel your breath hitch.

But he pulls back. He has to.

“Get in,” he murmurs, opening your door for you. His smile is soft, steady, even though inside he’s burning. “We’ll finish this tomorrow.”

The pout you give him nearly ruins him. You look so small, so reluctant to let go. He chuckles, because if he doesn’t, he’ll do something stupid, like drag you back against him and finally cross that line.

“Go,” he says, pushing you gently inside. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And when the door closes, when it’s just him and the hallway, Mingyu exhales like he’s been holding his breath all night.

Because for the first time in years, he’s not sure “best friend” is a title he can keep carrying.

When he gets back in his car, it feels too small tonight.

Mingyu slides behind the wheel, shuts the door, and for a second just sits there with both hands gripping the steering wheel, staring through the windshield without starting the engine.

Your laugh is still in his ears. The weight of your arms around his neck is still clinging to his skin. 

“God, what am I doing?” he mutters to himself, finally turning the key, the low hum of the engine filling the silence.

The drive home is muscle memory but his head isn’t in the road, it’s stuck replaying the last thirty minutes in endless loops. 

The way you hooked your arms around him like you belonged there. The way your nose brushed his when you whispered not to leave. The way your face looked up at him, lips close enough that all it would’ve taken was one stupid slip of control.

And he almost did. He almost kissed you.

His fingers tighten on the steering wheel. He’s Kim Mingyu—he’s supposed to be steady, reliable, the one person you can always lean on. Not the guy who caves just because his best friend—his drunk, clingy best friend—looked a little too kissable under a streetlight.

He exhales through his nose, jaw tight. “You’d hate me if I crossed that line like that.”

But would you?

The thought creeps in before he can stop it. You didn’t pull away tonight. You didn’t freeze when he kissed your cheeks, didn’t flinch when his lips brushed just shy of yours. If anything, you held on tighter. You asked him not to leave.

“Shit,” he breathes, slumping back in the seat at a red light. His pulse is ridiculous, his chest still thrumming like you’re in the passenger seat instead of miles away.

He can’t pretend anymore that it’s just protective instinct. It’s not just about scaring off guys at the bar or keeping you from tripping on the curb. He wants you, badly, painfully and the worst part is he doesn’t know how long he’s been wanting you like this.

Maybe years. Maybe always.

“Tomorrow,” he mutters under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter. “I told you we’d finish this tomorrow.”

But what the hell does that mean? Does it mean he’s finally going to admit it, lay it all out and risk everything? Or does it mean another day of pretending, of playing the safe best friend who feeds you between rants and kisses the air around your lips without ever daring to touch them?

The idea of losing you terrifies him more than anything else. But the thought of never kissing you, the thought of never knowing what it feels like to finally have you is starting to feel worse.

By the time he pulls into his parking garage, Mingyu is half wrecked, head falling back against the seat.

He laughs once, humorless. “I’m screwed.”

Because for the first time, he can’t convince himself it’s just friendship anymore.

And if tomorrow goes the way tonight almost did, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself again.

=

The next morning comes quick but also painfully slow. 

The elevator hums quietly as Mingyu balances the paper bag of takeout breakfast in one hand, his other fidgeting with the strap of his watch. He barely slept last night, he kept tossing, turning, replaying the feel of your arms around his neck, your pout at the door, your breath when your noses brushed.

He told you “tomorrow,” and here he is. Tomorrow.

Your apartment is still, the kind of silence that tells him you’re still asleep. He slips his shoes off by the door, sets the bag of food neatly on the table, arranges the cups of coffee so they’ll be easy to reach when you wake. It’s all habit, the kind of small, domestic thing he’s always done for you.

But then he drifts toward your room.

And there you are. Sprawled under your blanket, face half buried in the pillow, hair a mess. Peaceful. Completely unguarded.

Mingyu leans against the doorframe for a long moment, just watching. The urge to crawl in beside you hits him like a freight train. He fights it, then gives up, toeing forward until he’s lowering himself carefully onto the mattress.

The bed dips under his weight, but you don’t wake. Not yet.

He lies there on his side, head propped on his hand, and studies you like he’s allowed to. The soft curve of your mouth, the faint crease in your brow, the way your hair’s fallen across your cheek.

His fingers twitch before they move, brushing gently along your temple, pushing stray strands back. And that’s when you stir, Mingyu freezes. 

Then like a magnet snapping into place he leans in.

He tells himself he’ll just press one kiss to your forehead, something innocent, something best-friend safe. But his lips barely leave your skin before they’re brushing down to your temple. 

Then your cheekbone. Then lower.

By the time his mouth hovers just above yours, his breath is ragged.

You sigh again, the sound soft and sleepy, and tilt instinctively toward him. Your lips part, chasing after his without even opening your eyes.

Mingyu’s heart stumbles. He should pull back but then your mouth catches his in a slow, hazy kiss that tastes like morning and want and everything he’s been starving for.

The kiss deepens as you wake into it, your hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, tugging him closer. You’re not surprised. You’re not confused. You’re just kissing him back like this is the most natural thing in the world.

When he finally pulls back for air, foreheads pressed together, you blink up at him with a groggy smile.

“Morning,” you whisper, voice still rough with sleep

Mingyu laughs, breathless, thumb stroking your cheek. “Morning. I, uh… I brought breakfast.”

“Mm,” you hum, tugging him back down for another kiss. “Later.”

And just like that, he’s gone again. Lost to you, lost to the gravity that’s been pulling him in all along. The sheets are warm, the light seeping in through your curtains is pale and lazy, and Mingyu can’t remember the last time he felt this suspended between dream and reality.

Your mouth is soft against his, unhurried. You kiss him like you’ve done it a hundred times before like this isn’t the first. Like this isn’t the line he swore he wouldn’t cross.

Every part of his brain is screaming at him. What the fuck are you doing, this is your best friend, this is dangerous, you can’t go back if you keep going. 

But then your fingers are sliding into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands at the nape of his neck, and his thoughts scatter like smoke.

He makes a low sound into your mouth, one hand braced beside your head, the other splayed over your waist under the blanket.

“Gyu…” you murmur between kisses, lips brushing his.

He breaks just enough to press his forehead to yours, chest rising and falling like he’s run a mile. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, too low

“Nothing,” you whisper, eyes still closed as you tilt up to kiss him again

And just like that, he’s lost. He gives in, mouth slanting over yours, deeper this time. His tongue brushes yours, slow, testing, but you meet it eagerly, and his resolve frays another inch.

His thumb strokes absently along the curve of your waist, memorizing the give of your body beneath his palm. He kisses your mouth, then the corner of it, then your jaw, your chin, back to your lips again. Like he can’t get enough. Like he’s starving.

“Shit,” he breathes against your cheek, squeezing his eyes shut. “I shouldn’t—”

“Then stop,” you whisper, voice daring

He laughs softly, breathless, because you both know he won’t. He can’t. Instead, he kisses you again, slow and messy, teeth grazing your lower lip until you sigh into him.

Internally, he’s falling apart half panicked at what this means, half drunk on the sheer fact that you’re letting him, that you’re wanting him back. He knows he should pull away, reset, figure out what the hell this is before he loses himself completely.

But when you tug him down again, lips parting beneath his, Mingyu gives up pretending.

For now, he lets himself drown in it. The softness. The heat. The morning haze where it’s just you and him, tangled up in each other, kissing like you’ve both been waiting years for it to finally break open.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, beneath the rush, one clear thought stands out:

He’s not going to be able to stop wanting this.

The kitchen table is quiet except for the sound of wrappers crinkling and you chewing happily on the toast Mingyu picked up. The coffee cups are sweating on the table, the smell of egg sandwiches and sweet buns filling the room.

If someone walked in right now, they’d never guess you two had just spent the last fifteen minutes tangled up in your sheets, kissing like you were starving for it.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the chair beside him, hair still messy, oversized shirt slipping off your shoulder, as if nothing unusual happened. Munching away like it’s just another Saturday morning.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is sitting stiffly with a piece of bread in his hand, chewing slow, eyes glued to you like he’s waiting for a bomb to drop.

He swallows, opens his mouth then shuts it again when you take another huge bite of toast and hum like it’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten.

“You’re way too relaxed,” he finally says, squinting at you

You look at him mid-chew. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” he huffs, leaning back in his chair. “We just—” He waves his hand vaguely in the direction of your room. “—did all that, and you’re acting like we just played video games or something.”

You blink at him, swallow, then smirk. “So… you’re saying making out with me is the same level as playing Mario Kart?”

Mingyu groans, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s not what I—ugh, you’re impossible.”

You giggle, reaching over to steal a piece of his bread. “Relax, Gyu. You kissed me, I kissed you back, nobody died.”

His eyes narrow, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You make it sound like I tripped and accidentally fell on your face.”

“Didn’t you?” you tease, biting into the stolen bread

“Yah—” he grabs for it, and you dodge, laughing as you hold it out of reach. His hand ends up hovering dangerously close to your waist before he pulls back, clearing his throat, ears pink.

The air shifts. Just like that, the laughter lingers, but the silence that follows is heavier.

Mingyu stares at you, tapping his thumb against the table, a million questions on the tip of his tongue—Do you regret it? Do you want to do it again? Do you even realize what you’re doing to me?

Instead, he blurts out the safest one. “So… are you gonna, like… scold me? Kick me out? Or—” He shrugs, trying for casual but failing miserably. “Kiss me again?”

You freeze mid-bite, eyes flicking to his, lips tugging into a mischievous smile. “Why, do you want me to?”

His mouth goes dry, leaning closer. “What do you think?”

For a moment, the breakfast spread between you is forgotten, the only thing sharp in the room the pull that started last night and hasn’t let up since. You lean over, eyes mischievous, and when Mingyu tilts forward just a little too eagerly, you flick his nose with your finger.

He jerks back with a startled laugh, scrunching his face. “Ow! Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you grin, smug as you settle back in your chair, munching on the last bite of toast like you didn’t just reject him with the most unserious move possible.

Mingyu narrows his eyes, rubbing his nose. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

“Lucky?” you snort. “Please. You should be thanking me. I’m keeping you humble.”

“Keeping me—” he lets out a disbelieving laugh, leaning closer again, this time not so easily shaken. His hand comes down to rest on the back of your chair, casual to anyone else, but it cages you in just enough to make your stomach flip. “You think you’re the one keeping me humble?”

You raise your brows, pretending to be unaffected even as your pulse kicks up. “Mhm. You’d be insufferable without me.”

He smirks, voice dropping lower. “And what makes you think I’m not already?”

The air between you sharpens. You know you should roll your eyes, crack another joke, keep it in safe territory but your gaze drops, unbidden, to his mouth. He notices.

His tongue darts across his lower lip, slow, deliberate, and he chuckles when you catch yourself staring. “You’re so obvious.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Make me.” His grin widens, boyish but edged with something new. Something dangerous.

For a beat, neither of you move. His hand lingers against the back of your chair, his thigh brushing yours under the table, close enough you feel the warmth radiating off him.

You force yourself to break the silence with a smirk, flicking your gaze up to meet his. “Careful, Gyu. I might take that as an invitation.”

“Good.”

Your heart lurches. The toast crumb on your plate is suddenly the least important thing in the world.

You tilt your head at him, that sly grin tugging at your lips. Then before he can react you lean over and press the quickest, lightest peck against his mouth. Soft. Barely there. Enough to knock the air out of him.

And then you’re already pushing back your chair, standing up like nothing happened. “Wait here, I’ll just go change. You said you’d come with me to the grocery.”

Mingyu freezes. He blinks at you, stunned, toast still halfway to his mouth. “That’s—” He points at you, then at his lips, then at you again, completely flustered. “That’s your priority right now? Groceries?”

You look over your shoulder, laughing at the sheer disbelief in his voice. “What? We need eggs.”

He sets the toast down with a dramatic thud, still gaping. “Eggs. You kissed me, and then you—” He stands up, running a hand through his hair, muttering to himself like he can’t believe it. “Unbelievable. You’re actually unbelievable.”

You’re already halfway to your bedroom, calling out with a teasing sing-song, “Don’t forget the reusable bags!”

Mingyu drops back into his chair, dragging his hands down his face, half-laughing, half-growling in frustration. “Reusable bags,” he repeats to himself, incredulous. “She kisses me, then throws me reusable bags. What the fuck is happening.”

The late morning air is crisp when you step out of your apartment, Mingyu trailing behind you with the bags slung over one arm like the pack mule he’s always been.

“Eggs, huh?” he mutters, still side-eyeing you. “That’s what you left me reeling for? Eggs?”

You bump his shoulder with yours, smirking. “You’re still talking about it?”

He gives you a look, one brow raised. “Still? You kissed me and then said, ‘let’s get groceries,’ like that’s normal. Do you realize how insane that is?”

“Insane is you, bringing it up every two seconds,” you shoot back

“Insane is you pretending that was nothing.” He huffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches, betraying him. And then, without warning, his fingers slide easily into yours. His hand is warm, huge around yours, and he doesn’t even look at you when he does it. Like it’s natural. Like it’s always been this way.

You glance down at your joined hands, then back up at him. “Seriously?”

“What?” he says innocently, squeezing once. “Crossing the street.”

“There’s no car in sight.”

“Safety first,” he grins, and doesn’t let go.

At the grocery store, it gets worse. You’re trying to reach for something on a higher shelf and before you can even stretch, Mingyu is already there, grabbing it with ease. He doesn’t hand it to you—he sets it in your basket himself, like it’s his job.

You give him a flat look. “I’m capable, you know.”

“I know.” He pats the top of your head, smug. “But you’re short.”

You swat at him, but he just laughs, sliding an arm casually around your waist as you move to the next aisle. No reason. No hesitation. He just…does it.

=

Another weekend night out, you were supposed to stay in but your friends called and you had nothing better to do anyways. 

The restaurant is already buzzing when you arrive, the circle of friends squeezed around a long table littered with side dishes and half-empty bottles of soju. You slide into the only empty spot left and before you can even settle in, Mingyu drops into the seat right beside you, shoulders brushing.

He doesn’t ask if you’re okay with it. He never does anymore. It’s just…natural.

“Hey, scoot,” he says, nudging you gently to give him space, though it’s useless he still sits close enough that his thigh presses against yours.

You sigh, rolling your eyes, but you don’t move away. “You’re six-four, Gyu. Take less space.”

“Can’t help it,” he grins, plucking a piece of grilled meat off the sizzling pan and placing it onto your plate without thinking.

From across the table, someone whistles. “God, you two. Do you even know what personal space is?”

The group laughs, but Mingyu doesn’t even look up. He’s too busy folding a lettuce wrap, sliding it into your hand before making one for himself.

You shake your head, chewing, determined to ignore the comments. But you’re not blind. You see the way your friends exchange knowing glances, smirks tugging at their lips.

Half an hour in, the table is loud with chatter and laughter, and you’re in the middle of telling a story about work. Your hands move animatedly, and Mingyu’s hand finds your thigh under the table, steadying you when your knee bumps into him. It stays there. Warm. Heavy. Unbothered.

You don’t flinch.

In fact, when the waiter comes by to refill the bottles, you lean back against Mingyu casually, letting his arm slide along the back of your chair, fingers brushing your shoulder. You don’t even notice how much you lean into it anymore—it’s muscle memory.

“See? Dating,” someone mutters loudly enough for half the table to hear.

You glance up, lips parting to deny it, but Mingyu beats you to it. He doesn’t correct them, doesn’t tease. He just smiles, dimples flashing as he takes a sip of his drink, like the accusation doesn’t even bother him.

You, on the other hand, feel your pulse spike.

No one bats an eye anymore. They’re used to it. Maybe too used to it.

The drinks come fast, glasses clinking, and the group gets louder with each round. You’re laughing at something one of your friends said when Mingyu leans in close, his lips brushing your ear.

“Drink slower,” he murmurs. “You’re already flushed.”

You turn to him, grinning, deliberately brushing your nose against his cheek. “You’re counting my drinks now?”

“I always count,” he says, eyes flicking to your lips before dragging back up. “Someone has to keep you from doing dumb shit.”

“You mean fun shit.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. But his hand slides down from the back of the booth to rest casually on your shoulder, thumb stroking over your collarbone.

From across the table, someone groans. “Do you two realize we’re all still here?”

“We know, she just has my attention” Mingyu says easily, pouring you a fresh glass from the pitcher and sliding it into your hand. You snort into your drink, hiding your grin.

The photobooth is tucked into the corner of the bar, almost hidden behind a wall of neon. Mingyu spots it first, tugging your wrist with that mischievous grin.

“Come on,” he says.

“What—Mingyu, no—” But you’re already stumbling after him, half-laughing, half-protesting until you see where he’s dragging you.

“The booth? Seriously?”

“Yup,” he says, ducking inside. It’s barely big enough for one tall guy, let alone the two of you. You try to squeeze in beside him, but he just laughs, pulling you down into his lap. “Sorry. No space. Sit.”

“Gyu—”

“Timer’s starting,” he cuts you off, pointing at the flashing countdown.

The screen blinks: 3…2…1.

First frame: you both grin wide, doing peace signs, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. The flash pops.

Second frame: he turns his head at the last second, lips brushing the shell of your ear as you laugh. His arm tightens around your waist, dragging you closer.

3…2…1.

This time you’re not posing anymore. You’re looking at him, your noses brushing. The flash catches the exact moment your smile falters, eyes flicking to his mouth.

Third frame: his hand slides up your back, the other cupping your jaw. He tilts your head, closes the distance. Your lips barely touch when the flash goes off—charged, breathless, a heartbeat suspended.

Fourth frame: you’re gone. The second his mouth claims yours, soft at first, then hungrier, your fingers curl into his shirt, his arms locking you tight against him. The booth is too small, too cramped, but it doesn’t matter. You’re kissing him like you’ve wanted to for years, and he’s kissing you back like he’s starving.

By the time the final flash goes off, you’re lost. His lips part, tongue brushing yours, and you let out a small sound you didn’t mean to, swallowed instantly into his mouth. His hand fists in your hair, angling you deeper, while your hips shift instinctively against his lap, heat sparking everywhere he touches.

The screen blinks printing… and neither of you notice. You’re too busy making out in the cramped little booth, the world narrowed down to the taste of him, the way he groans softly into your mouth like he can’t get enough.

It’s messy, desperate, years of unsaid things spilling out in a kiss that feels like it should never end.

Outside, someone laughs, knocking against the curtain, but Mingyu just tightens his grip on your waist, dragging you closer as he kisses you harder. Like he doesn’t care who sees, who knows like this moment is his, and he’s not letting go.

After that, you both go to Mingyu’s place. It’s dim when you stumble in, both of you still buzzing from the night. He tosses his keys onto the counter, kicks his shoes off without looking, and before you even think about what’s happening, he’s tugging you toward the couch.

You fall with him, laughing at first, until you realize you’re not sitting beside him. You’re on him. Straddling his lap, your knees pressed into the cushions on either side of his hips.

And just like that, the air changes.

Mingyu’s hands slide instinctively to your waist, his grip firm, possessive, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. His eyes flick to your lips, swollen, glossy, kissed raw hours ago and then back up to meet yours.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he murmurs, voice low, wrecked already.

You smirk, leaning in just close enough that your noses brush. “Probably the same thing you’re doing to me.”

That’s all it takes. His mouth crashes into yours, messy, desperate, years of restraint snapping all at once.

It’s not gentle, not like the soft morning kisses or stolen pecks. This is hungry open-mouthed, teeth clashing, tongues tangling as he groans into your mouth like he can’t get deep enough. His hands roam up your back, then down, sliding lower to grip your hips and drag you tight against him.

You gasp, hips rocking instinctively, and he swallows the sound, kissing you harder.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your mouth, lips moving to your jaw, your throat, sucking marks you’ll definitely see in the morning. “You drive me insane.”

You tilt your head back, gasping, grinding down against him. “You’re one to talk.”

His hands slide under your shirt, big palms splayed over your bare skin, and you shiver at the heat of his touch. He kisses down your neck, biting gently before soothing the spot with his tongue, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes.

He pulls back just enough to look at you cheeks flushed, lips swollen, chest heaving. His eyes are dark, blown wide with want.

“We shouldn’t…” he starts, but his grip on your hips says the opposite.

You press your forehead to his, whispering, “Then stop.”

He laughs, breathless, shaking his head. “Not a chance.”

And then he’s kissing you again, deeper, hungrier, like he wants to devour you. His tongue slides against yours, his teeth catch your lip, and you grind down harder, pulling a groan from his chest that makes you shiver.

It’s unfiltered, messy, desperate, everything you’ve both been holding back pouring out on his couch, your bodies tangled, mouths bruising, hands roaming like you’ve forgotten where you end and he begins.

For the first time in years, you’re not best friends pretending. You’re everything you’ve been denying and neither of you has the will to stop.

The sunlight filtering through Mingyu’s curtains paints his room in that soft, golden haze that makes everything look quieter than it really is. Except, of course, for him.

The loud, uneven snoring rattles through the stillness, so comically unsexy after the way he had you melting apart under him last night that you can’t help but stifle a laugh. 

You turn your head carefully, your cheek brushing against his chest, and there he is mouth parted, lashes fanned low against flushed skin, hair an absolute disaster.

And his arm. God, his arm. Heavy and draped across you like he’s afraid you’ll get up and run away. The rest of him is practically sprawled on top of you, a living, breathing weighted blanket.

You shift a little, trying to ease the pressure, and he only groans, pulling you closer without even waking. Typical.

Your mind flashes to last night, heat crawling up your neck. You squeeze your eyes shut, cheeks burning, the echo of his voice still looping in your head.

Best friend. He’s your best friend. And yet here you are, tangled up with him in his sheets, the memory of his mouth on your throat still tingling like a brand. 

All you can think is this, him like this, is worth ruining the friendship for. 

You glance at his face again, and despite the blush heating your skin, you chuckle softly. His lips are puffy, a little bruised from how hard you’d both kissed. There’s a faint mark on his jaw—your mark—and the sight makes your stomach flip in ways you don’t want to analyze.

“Kim Mingyu,” you whisper, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re ridiculous.”

He only snores louder, the sound vibrating through his chest where your head is resting. You shake your head, stifling another laugh.

The truth is it doesn’t feel like a mistake. Not last night. Not now. And that might be the most terrifying part.

During breakfast you’re sitting across from him. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of your bowl, chewing slow and deliberate, but really, you’re stalling. 

Because your thoughts won’t shut up, circling back to something you shouldn’t even be thinking about, and the longer you sit across from him. The man responsible for the ache in your thighs, the bruises up your ribs, the soreness between your legs—the harder it is to keep it in.

He notices immediately, chopsticks pausing midair. “What?” 

You drop your gaze to your food, then back at him, squinting like you’re trying to solve an impossible puzzle. “I’m just… thinking about all your ex flings. Those situationships. The random girls you messed around with.”

He tilts his head, still grinning, but curious now. “And?”

Your chopsticks clatter against the bowl as you glare outright, blurting, “It’s pissing me off.”

One second passes. Maybe three. And then Mingyu bursts out laughing.

It’s loud and unfiltered, his head tipping back, shoulders shaking, his whole body folding into it like he just heard the funniest joke of his life. He tries to stifle it, fails miserably, clutching his stomach with one hand while the other bangs against the table.

“You—” he wheezes, pointing at you, “you’re seriously jealous? Now? After—” he waves vaguely toward the bedroom, toward the wrecked sheets you both left behind, “—after that?”

You cross your arms, heat flaring in your cheeks. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m serious.”

He wipes at his eyes, still grinning like an idiot. “God, you’re adorable. You’re glaring at me like you’ll kill me, but you can barely sit without wincing.”

Your pout deepens, and his laughter softens, though the smile never leaves his face. He leans forward, resting his chin on his palm, eyes locking on yours. 

“You know it doesn’t matter now, right?” His voice dips lower, playful edge giving way to something steadier, firmer

The words land heavier than they should. And you hate how your stomach flips at them, how your glare falters for just a second.

He notices that too. And of course his grin grows smug again.

“Why,” he drawls, dragging it out on purpose, “do you wanna be the only one I’ve ruined like this?” he smirks

Your jaw drops, a scandalized noise tumbling out, and he’s already laughing again, ducking the spoon you throw at his head.

You push your chair back with a theatrical clatter, napkin in hand like a flag of surrender, and stand. You pace once, twice, then stomp your foot for emphasis because if anyone’s going to act like a brat about this, it’s going to be you.

“Forget it,” you snap, voice thin with mock indignation, but your chin is up in that ridiculous way he knows so well. 

Mingyu watches you from across the table, half-amused, half-enraptured, that dumb grin glued to his face. 

“You’re really going to sulk about this?” he asks, tone teasing but gentle. The edge of his voice says he’s enjoying the show; the rest of him is quietly worried you might leave for real.

You glare, eyes blown wide with self-righteous fury. “Of course I am. I was there when you dated all those people. I folded your laundry, texted you back when they ghosted you, passed you tissues, and still—still you did whatever you did. And now I find out that you’re, like—” you make a ridiculous face, searching for the right word, “—an expert?”

You throw the napkin at him. It lands on his shoulder and flops down like a surrender flag. Instead of being offended, he laughs, a short, honest sound, and slides the napkin off, twirling it between two fingers. 

“Expert at what, exactly? Being unbearably attractive?” He flips the napkin and folds it neatly, because of course he does. “Or being terrible at hiding that you make me jealous?”

Jealous. The word stings more than it should. You’d been trying to keep everything performative, but that little syllable lands somewhere soft and exposed. You cross your arms harder, pretending the pose is armor.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes suddenly serious. “I’m not flattering myself.” 

His voice drops. For a heartbeat the playful surface peels back and there’s a raw, honest line under it. “You were always the one I wanted. Those other things were nothing. You know that. You were there. You were the anchor”

Your mouth opens because you weren’t expecting the confession to show up between bites of lunch and your ridiculous napkin theatrics. 

For a second you can’t tell whether to melt or to go full tantrum again, and he watches you like someone who’s been trying to say something for years and finally found the sentence.

You go full-on toddler now: arms crossed, foot tapping, dramatic eye-rolls that threaten to break into laughter. “So why didn’t you ever—” you begin, voice small at the corner, “—just say anything? Why let me sit through every stupid break-up text and still act like we were fine?”

Mingyu’s smile falls, and you catch the flicker of regret in his eyes. 

“Because I was a coward,” he admits, blunt and ugly and honest. “Because I didn’t want to risk losing you. You were the safest thing I had, and I thought—stupidly—that I could keep you if I stayed quiet. Turns out being quiet makes you ache worse.”

You stare at him, the anger shifting into something else. Curiosity, a shot of hurt, and then something molten beneath it all. 

He’s not trying to be poetic. He’s being himself: blunt, stupidly vulnerable, and a little ashamed. 

“So you simmered?” you say, half-laugh, half-accusation

He nods, eyes on your mouth. “Yeah. I simmered. I watched. I bit my tongue until it bled. And those kisses happened and I realized I wasn’t going to do that anymore.” His thumb rubs in an unconscious circle over the back of your hand. “I don’t want to watch you date someone else”

You want to be angry, and you are—at him, at yourself, at the years of half-truths—but the sound that escapes you is softer, the kind of high little noise you make when something raw finally turns into light.

“Is that what this whole big dramatic performance was for?” Mingyu teases, voice warmening back to mischief. He tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear with a thumb that lingers. 

“You trying to make me confess?”

You shove his shoulder lightly, but you’re not pushing him away. “Maybe,” you admit. “Maybe I wanted to see which version of you I’d get—Mr. Charming who laughs it off, or Mr. Confessional who can’t keep his mouth shut.”

He leans in, foreheads almost touching, the air between you thick. “You got both,” he says. “And you got the one who makes lunch and does the dishes when you’re sore. Not a bad package.”

The side of your mouth quirks up; revenge-banter forms like a reflex. “You don’t get to be smug and domesticated. That’s cheating.”

“Cheating’s an interesting word coming from you,” he murmurs, and his chest is so close you can feel the rise and fall. “You kissed me first that morning. You were the one who stole the offense.”

You wheeze, half-gasping laughter, half-protest. “I did not kiss you first!” you say, even though you did—quite emphatically. “I only pecked you. Barely.”

“Barely,” he repeats, shaking his head with a knowing grin. “Right. We both know what ‘barely’ means in your language.” He rubs the pad of his thumb along the inside of your wrist and the world narrows to that touch. 

“Do you know how it felt watching you walk into my life every damn day? To pretend I didn’t want to press my lips to yours? It was torture.”

You shove his shoulder again softer this time but you’re not angry anymore. 

“You literally tortured me with your abs and your stupid grin,” you snarl, then immediately laugh when he makes a mock-hurt face.

Mingyu answers that with a soft kiss to your knuckles, then leans his forehead to yours. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel like the expendable option,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry I let other people take your time. I should have said something sooner instead of cursing at them for making you cry”

The apologies surprise you. You feel the old scaffolding of your friendship rearrange itself. This is new territory.

You huff, pretending to be indignant, but your voice softens. “So what now? You go from coward to full-time simp in forty-eight hours? What’s the plan, Mister Confession?”

He grins that crooked smile that’s ruined you more than once. “Plan is simple,” he says. “I’m going to make you food, carry your bags, kiss you in inconvenient places, and make sure you know I’m not going anywhere. Also, I plan to be a giant pain in the ass whenever anyone looks at you like you’re a snack.”

You raise an eyebrow at the last vow. “That’s dangerously possessive.”

“Possessive is exactly the word,” he says, voice a rough promise. “And you? Are you going to let me be that guy, or are you going to make this harder for me?”

Heat pools low in your stomach equal parts fury and want and you realize you don’t actually want to make it harder. 

You want to see how he follows through. You want to be the person who gets his stupid, devoted halves. So instead of flaring up, you give him a small, reluctant smirk. “Fine. But I get hazard pay.”

“Oh, you’ll get hazard pay,” Mingyu replies immediately, and you know he means it. “And first dibs on the dumplings I make. You earned them.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile is wide and honest now. He leans in and pecks your temple, then your lips, soft and entirely unafraid, as if he’s staking this moment down. The napkin falls from his pocket and flutters to the floor like a waved surrender to something better.

You both stand there in each other’s arms., the ridiculous, messy aftermath of sex and confession and kitchen drama settled around you. Outside, the city hums; inside, the apartment smells like soy and spice and the small, dangerous beginning of something that’s not going away.

“Now,” Mingyu says finally, tilting his head with that grin you already hate and love, “do I get a proper scolding for making you jealous? Or am I off the hook because I confessed?”

You poke him in the ribs. “You’re not off the hook. I want dramatic vows.”

“I’ll rehearse,” he promises, laugh in his voice. “But only if you promise to stop mopping the table like it’s a crime scene.”

“Deal. But know that every time you make me jealous, I will enact petty revenge.”

He nods solemnly, then grins. “I’ll take that risk.”

You don’t say it, and he doesn’t either, but the agreement sits between you: whatever this is, whatever it becomes, you’ll both fight for it—stupidly, tenderly, outrageously—because neither of you wants to be the one who looks back and wonders what could have been.

[sluttyminghao]

Hello there…

So I had a dream last night about Mingyu

I was wondering if you could write a smut where Mingyu and s/o are making out and he basically cums in his underwear and she is teasing him and everything rides him for hours..

I hope this is ok 😅 thanks in advance xx

The kiss had started out innocent enough, with his warm hands cradling your waist, and his lips soft but eager against your own. But with Mingyu, nothing ever stayed innocent for too long. His mouth grew hungrier, his grip grew tighter, and his breath grew ragged against your cheek as he pulled you into his lap even further.

"God, you taste so good," he mumbled between kisses, his deep voice already thick with need. His thigh slotted comfortably between yours, and you couldn’t help but grind down onto the muscle, drawing a guttural groan from him.

And you continued this charade for a while, experimenting with pace and fluidity. You observed his reactions, a smirk growing on your face as he grew needier by the second, and all too soon, he stilled. His body trembled against yours, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as a choked sound escaped him.

"No way…" you pulled back just enough to see his flushed cheeks, his wide, glassy eyes refusing to meet yours. "Mingyu. Did you...?"

He groaned louder, burying his flushed face in your neck, completely mortified. "Don’t say it," he pleaded, his voice muffled into your shirt. "I didn’t mean to… you just...you drive me insane."

Your grin was wicked as you reshuffled your hips, watching him jerk violently at the aftermath. "So eager. I barely even touched you, and you already lost it."

"Stop teasing me," he whined, his ears and cheeks now a brilliant scarlet, his big frame somehow curling in on itself like he wanted to disappear.

But you didn’t stop. You tilted his chin up, forcing his blown pupils to meet your gaze. "No, puppy. You’re going to sit right there, and I’m going to make you work for it. If you can’t last a few kisses, let’s see how long you last when I really get on top of you."

His sharp inhale told you everything. He was already far too gone. You straddled his lap, your glistening core now mere inches away from his aching and leaking cock. You let your hips sink down, and without giving either of you time to adjust, you rocked slowly against him, and his hands immediately flew to your hips. "Please," he gasped, already breathless. "Please, don’t-"

"Hours," you interrupted, your smirk curling up further as you rolled your hips harder, watching his jaw slacken. "I could ride you for hours, Mingyu. Until you’re begging me to stop. Until you can’t think straight. Is that what you want?"

"Yes," he moaned without hesitation, his voice breaking. "I’ll take it, I’ll do anything, just...don’t stop."

Every grind pulled another desperate sound from his throat. He clutched at your hips like they were a lifeline, torn between the shame of how quickly he’d unravelled and the raw need blazing in his eyes.

"Pathetic," you whispered against his lips, savouring the way he shuddered. "Falling apart just from me sitting on you. But so good, too… so desperate for me."

"Yours," he groaned, his head tipping back, exposing his throat to you in a gesture of surrender. "Always yours. Please don’t stop, I can take it. I swear."

And you believed him, because even through the teasing, through his embarrassment and your cruel words, Mingyu was practically glowing under your control. Needy. Obedient. Hopelessly undone… and still begging for more.

[averyfromzero]

Make You Mine: Collide–part II

pairing: kim mingyu x male reader summary: after leaving the club together, mingyu takes you to his hotel room, where you two will have the best sex of your lives! notes: smut, anal sex, oral sex, rimjob, kissing, safe sex, armpit worshipping, mentions of sweat and musk words: 3.4k part 1

You and Mingyu barely made it out of the elevator before he crashed his lips onto yours ardently, trying not to trip you over when he makes you walk backwards until your back hits his hotel room door. He sloppily fumbled his hands into all his pockets until he found the keycard and hurriedly pressed it against the lock until it clicked, pushing you inside and forcefully–but gently enough–pinning you against the door, slamming it shut behind you.

The kissing was erratic and sloppy. You could feel Mingyu’s spit being smeared over your lips and his hot, short breaths brushed your cheeks as you chased each other’s mouths. He pressed his body against yours so hard against the door that it made you moan in between kisses, drawing a breathy smirk out of him. Your hands wanted to explore his body so badly that you didn’t know where to start, touching every part of him your hands could reach from that position.

The sound of your sloppy and wet lips against each other–plus your uneven and hot breathing that came in short bursts–made for a sinful noise that quickly filled the room. Desperate for even closer touch, as if it was even possible, Mingyu started rolling his hips hard against yours, making you break the kiss into a gasp. You took a moment to enjoy the pressing of his crotch against you before returning your lips to where they belonged–pressed against his own lips.

For some minutes, you stayed constrained between Mingyu’s muscular body and the door, kissing each other’s lips, cheeks, necks and ears, as well as sucking on each other’s tongues for a hot while. It was almost animalistic how you two craved each other at that moment.

You felt Mingyu’s strong hands grasp your waist harder as he moved you away from the door and scrambled your way to his king size bed. “Wait, what about Seungcheol?” You asked in between kisses. “We got separate rooms, don’t worry.” His eyes never left your lips as he responded in a quick pace.

Mingyu softly pushed you to sit on the bed and smirked, making you feel even smaller looking up at him from that position. His hands held onto the hem of his tank top and he slowly removed it, revealing his toned, tan and perfectly carved torso. Your eyes traveled around every detail of that man’s exposed skin. His shoulders were broad, his pecs were plump, and his abs were defined just enough that you could see the ridges of his six-pack while keeping his meatier form. You couldn’t think of a more perfect shape.

You didn’t realize the sight before you was literally breathtaking until you felt the need to fill your lungs again. Taking a deep breath, you moved your hands to his body and you felt his warm skin against your digits. You took your time feeling him up, palms travelling from his abs to his chest, squeezing each of his pecs softly before going down his sides. You marveled at how warm and meaty his skin felt on your hands.

Mingyu leaned down and kissed you once more before taking the hem of your shirt and lifting it, exposing your own torso to him. “You’re beautiful” He breathed out, drinking up the sight of you for a moment before gently pushing you to lay back on the mattress. He used his strong arms to help you slide up closer to the headboard and climbed his way onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you.

He looked into your eyes for a few seconds before leaning down and taking your lips into his, keeping his lips deeply pressed against yours for a whole minute before moving. Somehow, he made you understand that he truly wanted you more than just your body. And you reciprocated the kiss in the same deep and passionate way, responding to him.

You made out for a few minutes in that position before Mingyu started moving his lips away from your mouth. He kissed your cheek, chin, neck and collarbone before he looked up at you. He maintained eye contact for a second as his hand started to feel you up and then he continued his way down your torso. You felt his wet lips mouth at your chest and stomach slowly and his hands drew circles on your sides before you hooked your fingers on the waistband of your pants.

Mingyu looked up at you once more as if he was checking to see if you were okay with him continuing before he pulled your pants and underwear down your legs in one single motion. Smoothly, he removed all your pieces of clothing–including shoes–leaving you naked on his bed.  

He stopped again to take in the sight of your bare skin and softly ran his hands from your feet all the way up to your face, paying attention to every detail of your naked body before catching your lips into a kiss once more. Mingyu ran his hand through your hair tenderly while you kissed for a minute.

Once your lips parted ways for the hundredth time that night you signaled for Mingyu to lay down and you kneeled in front of his frame, wasting no time before removing his shoes and pants. The view in front of you had to be the most gorgeous your eyes had ever registered.

Mingyu’s body proportions were insane. Not only was his torso perfect as you had already seen earlier, but his legs were also toned beautifully, his feet were big and manly, and his cock was massive and ravishing between his thick thighs.

Just like he had done to you, you took your time feeling him up and down–running your digits across his soles, touching each of his toes, feeling up his shin, knees and thighs, revisiting his amazingly sculptured torso, venerating his huge biceps and armpits, and intertwining your fingers onto his own before making your back down his figure. Mingyu watched patiently as you stopped your hands and eyes right at his crotch level, determined to take your time on memorizing every single detail of his member.

You wrapped your fingers around his cock and sighed at the girth–it was at least as thick as a Red Bull can. The length was perhaps even more impressive, your hand covering less than half of it. The tip was big, shiny and colored dusty pink, whereas the rest was colored brown–a few shades darker than Mingyu’s body. A thick vein ran down the underside of the shaft while other less prominent ones could be spotted around as well. While the tip was fully exposed, you still noticed Mingyu wasn’t circumcised when you gave his cock a slight stroke and saw his uncut skin slide up to cover the head. You were absolutely hypnotized by that member.

Your gaze shifted to the sizable and hairless balls right below Mingyu’s massive cock. You assumed they hung low normally when you noticed they weren’t tight against his dick even when aroused. With your free hand, you played with Mingyu’s testicles for a moment before you moved to feel the texture of his pubic hair. He wasn’t clean shaven, but the amount of hair in that area and how tidy it looked made you aware that Mingyu took care of his pubes and trimmed it at least sometimes.

You had no idea how much time you took looking into every detail of his cock but Mingyu didn’t seem to mind at all. His face told you he was enjoying that moment as much as you were. You gave his cock a few strokes and watched as a drop of precum oozed out of his tip. You licked your lips at the sight and slowly leaned in, sticking out your tongue and lapping up at the clear liquid, tasting Mingyu in your mouth. You proceeded to lick the tip of his engorged cock more thoroughly–drawing a moan out of the taller man–before wrapping your lips around it and sucking.

More precum leaked into your mouth as you kept sucking the tip of Mingyu’s dick. The warmth and wetness made him moan once more and his member twitched in between your lips. Releasing the tip from your mouth, you stuck out your tongue again and licked the shaft of his cock from top to bottom, tracing the thick vein until you reached his testicles. You decided to lick and mouth around his balls and that drew another sound from his lips, prompting you to keep giving his sack attention for another minute. Done there, you ran your tongue up his shaft again, licking all around it until every inch was wet with your saliva.

You took a few seconds to stroke Mingyu’s cock once again until you decided to lean back in and wrap your lips around him, this time taking more than just the head inside. You lowered slowly on his thick shaft and enveloped him into your wet mouth inch by inch, making sure you register each vein or bump you felt sliding against your lips. You welcomed as much of him into your mouth as you could but Mingyu’s cock was too big to take all the way on the first try, so you sucked on what you had managed to mouth while your right hand worked on what was left exposed.

You started slow–relishing on the taste of Mingyu’s cock–before you decided to pick up speed and suck him faster, making him mumble under his breath as he moaned and squirmed. Your mouth felt like velvet around his dick and the rhythm of your movements drew him closer to the edge minute by minute. He put his hand on your head and softly grasped your hair, letting you know he wanted you to continue. As you sucked him intensely, you had your left hand run around his body again, taking in the feeling of his toned skin under your touch.

Mingyu was enjoying your blowjob so much he was sure it was already the best he’s ever received. He felt himself getting close to an orgasm and almost let himself get pushed over the edge from how amazing he was feeling. But he didn’t want to finish just yet. He had other plans in mind. So he cupped your face and motioned for you to slow down before it was too late. “Wait, I don’t wanna cum yet.” Slowly, you halted your movements on his member, sliding your wet lips back up and giving his tip one last suck before letting go with a loud pop noise.

You crawled your way up so you were face to face with Mingyu again. You leaned in for a kiss and you two made out once again for a hot minute, before you decided to move your face elsewhere. You trailed kisses down his neck, moving closer and closer to his shoulder. Once there, you took Mingyu’s hand and lifted his arm up, exposing his musky armpit. Your mouth watered at it. It was slightly sweaty, and the growing hairs on the area told you it had been a couple days since he had last shaved. 

You leaned closer and pressed your nose against his armpit and inhaled. His scent was like an addicting cologne. You could smell the salt of his sweat and the strong musk that clung to his skin–warm, manly and dizzying. You took in every detail of Mingyu’s body odor that could be grasped in his armpit, sniffing every inch of his underarm before doing the same with the other one. As your nose worked on one side, your fingers explored the other, memorizing the texture of his sweaty skin and growing hairs.

Daring, you stuck out your tongue and dragged it up one of his armpits, tasting what your nose had already experienced–his manly musk and sweat. The feeling of his underarm hairs tickling your tongue as you tasted his salty skin made you moan loudly, leading Mingyu to close his eyes, lean his head back and let out a grunt of his own as your wet tongue ran up his musky skin. You kept worshipping his armpits for a few minutes before Mingyu was so riled up that he decided it was his turn to play with you.

Using his strong arms and hands, Mingyu manhandled you into an all-fours position, spreading your legs as further out as he could, pushing you to lay your chest and head on the sheets and making you arch your back so your ass was up and right in front of him. His hands found their way on each side of your ass cheeks and soon Mingyu decided to spread them apart, exposing your pretty pink hole to him. He licked his lips and squeezed your ass a few times before diving right in.

You squeezed the bedsheets and moaned when you felt his hot, wet tongue dart itself into you for the first time. Mingyu spread your cheeks even further out and hardened his grip on them–softly bruising the skin under his palm–as he pressed his face forcefully against your ass. You could feel the wetness and warmth of his tongue go as deep as it could and you couldn’t keep yourself from squirming your hips into him as if you could get any closer together.

Your moans came out uncontrollably the more Mingyu ate you out. He spent several minutes devouring your ass like a hungry beast before pulling out to take a breath. He massaged your cheeks and watched your hole wink at him, now all wet from his slobber. Mingyu leaned in once more, but this time chose to lap at your hole up and down with his hot tongue, closing his lips around your rim as if he's making out with it. After a few minutes, he moved to your cheeks, where he kissed and bit slightly.

Satisfied with tasting your entrance thoroughly, Mingyu gave your ass a final slap and straightened himself up again. He wrapped his fingers around his thick cock and touched your hole with his leaking tip, circling it before slapping his hard and heavy meat against your ass a few times, taking in the filthy view of your round, slobbered up ass and his fat cock. Your cheeks rested against the sheets the entire time as you watched the reflection in the tall closet mirror just beside the bed–perfectly showcasing Mingyu’s massive figure behind you.

You saw when he reached down to grab the wallet in the pocket of his pants that was thrown on the ground and pulled a condom out of it. Knowing he kept himself safe with a condom in his wallet made you feel somehow even more attracted to the taller man. Once he had put it on, Mingyu guided his member to your entrance and felt as his large tip prodded against your rim. Your hole winked at the touch and you winced a little once he started pushing it inside. Mingyu slowly managed to get the tip in, making both of you exhale loudly before he pushed in deeper. It felt tight for both of you, in the best way possible. Mingyu’s cock stretched you deliciously and the pressure of your hole on his thick shaft made him feel so good, drawing moans out of both your mouths.

After some minutes of slowly pushing and “you’re doing great, baby” being thrown around in sensual breaths, you felt Mingyu’s balls hit your ass–his entire massive cock was finally sitting inside of you. You had never felt so full in your life. The stretch was somewhat painful in the beginning but you got used to it faster than you anticipated.

You felt Mingyu start to move slowly, dragging his heavy meat out of your hole until it was just the large tip inside before he pushed back in with the same pace. He repeated that motion for some minutes, making you both moan out loud. After some time, you felt his hips pick up more speed until the sound of his skin against yours became loud, wet and sinful. You couldn’t control what left your mouth anymore, moans and grunts mixing into the shameful noise of hot sex that filled the room.

Mingyu fucked into you for minutes on end and you watched it all through the mirror, catching the way his head tilted back when he felt so good inside you, the way his skin started to glisten with sweat the faster he fucked you, and the way his grunts became hotter and more frequent.

After some time, Mingyu decided to change positions and motioned you to lay on your back so you could face him. You didn’t do any of the work, letting him take care of you as he positioned himself in between your legs and pushed his cock back inside of you. You hooked your arms around his sweaty shoulders and looked directly into his eyes as he pistoned into you. You watched his sweat run down his face and body and even drip onto you as he fucked you harder, turning you both into a moaning mess 

Mingyu caught your lips in his as he fucked you and made you whimper into his mouth as you felt his cock go deeper and deeper. You two made out hungrily for a long time and you felt like you were in a sensory overload with how much you were feeling all at once. His hot tongue in your mouth, his musk invading your nose and his dick stretching out your hole. It was a lot, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

You tightened your embrace around him and pulled him closer together, feeling his sweaty, hot skin against your own as you two kissed nonstop. His thrusts seemed to never lose any force and it felt like your body was growing addicted to the feeling of such a massive dick pounding into you.

As Mingyu got rough with his thrusts, your hands started to claw at his back, nails scratching his muscles the harder you felt him going in you. The deep, wet grunts that were spat into your ear made your mind go wild and soon you were mumbling “harder”, “faster”, “more” in between kisses without even noticing.

You both went on like that for a long time before getting close to the edge. Once he felt himself getting there, Mingyu’s thrusts became sloppy and harder, drawing you close to your own climax as well.

“I’m close” he moaned into your ear.

“Me too” you whispered.

Mingyu came with a roar, pounding forcefully into you as he milked his cock into his condom. You came right after, ropes of cum landing on your chest as you moaned. You felt his cock throb and pulsate inside of you as Mingyu kept cumming and cumming for a hot minute before finishing.

You two stayed in that position for a while as you regained your breath, bodies glistening with sweat and faces flushed red with all the adrenaline. Once he had pulled himself together enough, Mingyu leaned back and looked at you, memorizing every detail of your fucked out state. He gently brushed the damn hair out of your forehead and leaned in to give you a tender kiss that turned into a passionate and gentle make out session. You felt and sucked each other’s tongues softly and explored each other’s mouths for a few minutes until you broke off and smiled at each other sweetly.

“Can’t believe someone like you is single” Mingyu joked, kindhearted.

You laughed under your breath, timid, never breaking eye contact. “You could be my boyfriend for the night.”

Mingyu’s smile widened as he leaned in again to place a sweet, short kiss on your lips before looking you right in the eye again and responding, in a caring whisper. “I can be your boyfriend for the weekend.”

You both laughed warmly and hugged each other tight, giving each other a few pecks and enjoying each other’s presence for a few more minutes until you got up to clean yourselves finally.

Who would’ve thought going to that club tonight would lead you to the best sex of your life–and maybe even something more…

[madeforgyu]

pretty like this. (18+ only, mdni.)

summary. you think mingyu's hands are pretty. he thinks you look pretty coming undone.

pairing. mingyu x f!reader

word count. 3194

genre. smut, fluff sprinkled throughout.

cw. very heavy ddlg themes (i cannot stress this enough, more warnings under the cut), very heavy d/s relationship, cnc (she explicitly tells him to stop but they have a safeword), degradation and praise, spit kink, squirting, creampies and a lot of cum, mingyu LOVESSSS reader so bad (and is maybe addicted to her holes), dacryphilia, lots of nicknames (love, baby, sweetheart, honey, princess)

author's note. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS, I'M SERIOUS!!!!!! also, sorry for the long wait so here's 3k words worth of absolute filth :') i've been working on this since dec 2023 so i'm glad i've finally found the motivation and words to finish it!

this fic contains heavy ddlg themes.

this is not just a daddy kink fic. mg is not actually her dad, reader is not actually his kid. she calls him dad and daddy interchangeably. there are themes of incest play (mg literally calls himself her dad) and age play (evident in the way mg talks to her) but they are two fully consenting adults in an established relationship. think of this as being in the same universe as playtime.

if you don’t like this kind of content, just block and move on.

“your hands are big.”

that was all you said. 

you and mingyu had just been chilling on the couch, bundled up in the fluffiest blanket he owned, a strong arm around your shoulders as you snuggled up to his side, your favourite plush pressed close to your chest.

the tv played some drama that you both had stopped paying attention to for the past… four episodes? regardless, at that point, the tv was just dull, white noise to the two of you as you chatted away, talking about anything and everything your minds could come up with between hushed giggles and lingering kisses.

you somehow ended up on the topic of hands—his hands, specifically, and how pretty you think they are—as you press your palm to his, lining up your much smaller hand up to his bigger one. 

“your hands are big,” you said, index carefully tracing along the lines of his palm. he chuckled.

“yours are just small, princess,” came his response, his own fingers slotting into the spaces between yours before bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss over your knuckles.

you smiled at him, “they’re pretty.”

“you think?” there was a teasing edge to his voice, “they look prettier inside you.”

you don’t remember what happened next.

because now he has you laying on the couch, his shirt that you’re wearing bunched up over your chest, panties gone, tossed somewhere over his shoulder for mingyu to find and keep later on. your plush has already fallen off the couch and onto the floor and its big, cartoonish eyes watch innocently as your boyfriend tugs another climax out of you. 

the three fingers that curl into that spot inside you, has you grinding into the heel of his palm as your back arches off the cushions. his other hand holds onto his phone with surprising stability, trying his best to keep his camera pointed at his digits buried knuckles-deep inside you to capture the way you gush, mic catching each squelch of your slick hole. 

you’re exhausted. so fucking exhausted. 

your body buzzes with the burn of overstimulation and it feels like electricity is coursing through your veins, setting your nerve-endings ablaze. your poor, used pussy pulses around his thick digits as he continues to plunge his fingers into you with an insatiable desire for more.

“gimme one more, baby,” he pretty much begs, camera still pointed at your poor cunt. “one more for the camera.”

one more, he says. one more. the same words he uttered when he pulled a second one out of you. then the third, then the fourth— you’re not sure if you can take a fifth but fuck it, you’re willing to try, if not for your own gratification then for mingyu’s.

“please,” you whine, writhing underneath him. “dad, stop—s’too much. i can’t—” 

tears prick at the corners of your eyes and start to stream down your cheeks. his digits, working relentlessly at your velvety walls, start to feel all too overwhelming for you. one of your hands reaches down to grasp weakly at his wrist in a half-hearted attempt to push him away, but he only clicks his tongue as your hand comes into view on his phone. 

“yes you can, sweetheart. c’mon. do it for daddy, yeah?” he says, voice tinged with only a bit of irritation.

he curls his fingers into your spot again, the rough pads of his fingers pressing into you. you see white before you can even recognize what just happened, the tension in your core snapping with a force that rips the prettiest sounds from your throat.

he watches with a smirk, canines peeking out ever so slightly as you fall apart once more on his fingers. your back bows off the couch, small hands grasping at the blanket, and your body trembles as you cum. your cunt clenches around his digits as you squirt, drenching his hand and soaking the blanket beneath you. 

“see, princess? told you you could do it,” he coos. he says it so sweetly, so encouragingly, it’s as if he wasn’t praising you for squirting all over him. 

he continues to massage his fingers against your walls for a little while more, drawing out your orgasm before he slows down. then with careful motions, he pulls his fingers out of you just as he taps the button to stop recording. he sets his phone down onto the coffee table and pops his digits into his mouth to lick them clean, eyes focused on you—

your cheeks are warm, flushed, wet with tears. your eyes are glazed over and half-hooded. your chest rises and falls with every heavy pant as you try to catch your breath, one leg dangling off the edge of the couch while the other is hooked over the backrest, your pretty holes in perfect view for him.

he did that. 

mingyu grins wickedly to himself as he observes your figure, eyes tracing over the lines of your worn out, fucked out body, irises blown out with more lust, more greed than he started with. he observes—no. admires you because he did that.

he rises from the couch then his hands are hastily pushing his sweats and briefs down, kicking the offending pieces of clothing off to the side to be forgotten about. the only thing on his mind now is fucking you dumb on his thick cock and filling you up to the brim with his cum until you’re leaking. 

“shit. y’so pretty like this, baby,” he cusses under his breath in awe, the sight of you completely at his mercy never failing to take his breath away. “so fuckin’ cute when you’re all fucked out.”

his hands find their way behind your knees. his big, warm hands push them up to either side of your chest, folding you in half and fully exposing both of your holes to him—or, his holes, rather. his to use, his to play with. his to fuck and lap at and fill. his to adore and cherish and love.

embarrassment? arousal? you have no idea what it is that surges through your body at this point but whatever it is, it has you whimpering, hiding your face in your arms, as your boyfriend lets out shallow breaths. he stares hungrily, with heavy lidded eyes, at the way your pussy clenches around nothing, and tries to burn the image of your pretty, glistening folds and perfectly adorable puckered hole into the back of his mind so he never forgets. because god, he loves you—and god, he loves your little holes just as much. 

he wants to take his time and lap at your cunt, savour the addictive taste of you that he always seems to crave, but he’s so hard, it actually hurts. he settles instead for a few tender kisses onto your clit that has the sweetest of whines spilling from your lips before his hands are manoeuvring your legs to hook over his buff arms as he pulls you closer. 

you’re tired, half of you wishing he would let you rest, but the way he manhandles and positions you to his liking has your pussy drooling. 

“dad—” you choke out and it’s something between a whine and a sob. the way you sound so miserable sends blood rushing to mingyu’s already painfully hard cock. the heels of your feet dig into his shoulders and you push—or at least try to with whatever strength you have left. 

“daddy, m’tired,” you whine.

“shh, i know, baby. i know,” he soothes, almost patronising, paying no mind to your cries or your weak kicks at his shoulders. “jus’ one more, okay? know you’re tired but you can do it. you’re my good girl, right? jus’ one more, i promise—one more on dad’s cock.”

so you sniffle and nod because you’d do anything for mingyu.

he litters light kisses all over your face. first on your right cheek, then on the left, then between your eyebrows to your forehead, down your nose then to your lips and chin. you can’t help but giggle, though tired, as his lips tickle your skin with every kiss.

then his eyes are searching yours—despite the haze of your delirium, you can tell he needs the reassurance that you’re okay. but your words are failing you as you fall deeper and deeper into him, into the trance he’s placed on you. your mind feels all too clouded for words so you kiss him instead with a weak hand on his nape, fingers carding through his locks. 

you kiss him slowly, tenderly, in a way that tells him don’t worry, i’m okay because he’s already reduced your mind into mush. it seems to ease his worries because he kisses you back with just as much fondness and so much more devotion, and when he pulls away, he lets out a breath of relief against your lips. 

“tell me your safeword, love,” he pleads with a gentle, hushed voice, eyes peering into yours with an undeniable glimmer of adoration and care.

“red.”

then he’s dripping his spit thickly over your cunt. your body’s so sensitive that a shiver runs up your spine when his saliva hits your clit and slides between your lips.

“please, daddy,” you whimper. but you’re so lost that even you don’t know what you’re asking for.

he grasps his cock by the base as he guides the tip between your pretty folds. then he sinks in, the head pressing into you with a delicious pop, and your breaths turn shallow as he sheathes himself in your warmth. you can feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock as he stretches your walls, and when he presses into your cervix, you’re gone. 

he can’t keep his eyes off your pussy—the way your folds stretch to accommodate the intrusion, cock barely fitting inside you. the slide of his cock against your walls is heavenly despite the pain and sensitivity—fuck, it makes it even better. 

“jesus christ, princess, look,” he rasps, voice strained with what sounds like equal parts disbelief and amusement.

his gaze is fixated on the outline of his cock that bulges on your lower belly, and his mouth fucking waters at the sight. he cracks a smirk. he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being astounded by just how much your body has to adjust to fit him. 

it reminds him constantly that you’re his little cocksleeve. his little plaything. born and made for him.

a burning, irresistible desire to ruin you, to defile you, blossoms in his chest. he presses down on the bulge with a devious grin and you keen, toes curling and back arching off the couch. 

“look at that, honey,” he coos with a lick of his lips, “dad’s all up in your tummy.” 

he pulls out carefully only to slam back into you again. he does it over and over and over, watching with greedy eyes as the bulge disappears and reappears with every brutal thrust. 

then he buries his face into the crook of your neck and draws back to leave just the tip. with a low groan, slams back into you, the head of his cock kissing up against your spot so good as he bottoms out. it rips a sob out of you so loud, it actually alarms mingyu for a moment and it makes him stop, cussing under his breath in worry as he lifts his head from your neck to look at you, one elbow digging into the cushions to prop himself up and hover over you.

concern settles into his features as he studies your expression. carefully, his free hand cradles your cheek, big thumb smoothing over the plush of your cheeks wet with tears.

“hey,” his voice is gentle as he tries to catch your attention. 

you’re unresponsive—nearly. your head lolls with the motion of his hand as he gently tries to shake you awake. your eyes are closed, lashes clumped together with tears as short, shallow breaths fall from your lips.

“hey. baby, you okay? shit. princess, look at me—”

“don’t stop.”

your voice is so soft and hushed, he almost misses it. if it weren’t for the concern rushing through his body, he would hiss at how impossibly snug your walls are around his cock, how tight you are around him as your cunt throbs. 

it burns—the overstimulation, the stretch, the way your body, despite having trained you so well, struggles to take him. yet you can’t help but crave more, more, more, your mind blurring the lines between pleasure and pain almost completely. 

you want him, you want more of him but you can feel the exhaustion settling in your bones, like your body’s about to break. but you just can’t seem to care, not when his cock pressing into you feels so fucking divine. 

your voice echoes in his head. 

don’t stop. 

and the desire to fuck you stupid hits him all over again in full force. 

he hisses—fuck—then his hips are pistoning into you again with a force that knocks all the breath out of your lungs, your walls burning so good with every drag of his fat cock. a large hand curls around your neck, your chin knocking against the back of his hand, and his fingers press into your pulse just enough to make you lightheaded. you mewl, holding onto his arms weakly, then it melts into an incomprehensible slew of daddy—ngh—d-dad, please—daddy, da—

“pretty baby,” he grunts. “daddy’s pretty little baby. thought you said you were tired, hm? thought you wanted daddy to stop?”

his hips are relentless as he pummels into you like it’s his life’s purpose to have you shatter on his cock, and you’re left whimpering at the pain that courses through your body and fades into the pleasure in some sick, deliciously masochistic way.

“this feel good? dad’s cock feel good in your tummy?” 

there’s a teasing, condescending edge to his voice that makes you clench around him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as his hold on your neck tightens slightly for a moment too short. then his big hand is gripping your jaw, your chin fitting into his palm while his fingers dig into your cheeks as he forces you to look at him.

“i’m talking to you, honey,” he grits between pants, punctuating his taunting with a particularly hard thrust. he gives your cheek a few light slaps, hips stilling to get you to focus on him and not his cock. “look at your dad when he’s talking to you.”

a crooked grin finds its way onto mingyu’s features as he watches your eyes struggle to focus on him. 

there’s nothing behind them now. 

your gaze is hazy at best. unfocused. drunk. your sanity has rotted away, far from your reach, and the only thing you can bring yourself to care about now is the way mingyu’s fat cock is buried all the way in your poor, little hole. how you’re so close but mingyu isn’t moving, and for a split second, you’re terrified to tears that he’d pull out and edge you because you know he has a mean streak and you’re just so, so, so close— 

“you like this, don’t you?” he pries your mouth open and spits right onto your tongue, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he hated you. “my dumb little princess loves when daddy fucks her stupid.” 

you do. god, you fucking do. 

you wish you had the words to tell him but your mind fails you with the way your boyfriend’s stuffing you full of his cock. instead, you press your tongue against the roof of your mouth to swallow down his spit before sticking your tongue out for him to show him you want more. he smirks. what a perfect little—

“whore.”

so spit on your tongue he does, for the second time, and you whine in delight, music to his ears, before he’s back to bullying his cock into your sopping cunt with a fiery determination to paint your walls white and fuck you full of his seed. 

he wants to make sure you’re full. so full that no matter how hard you try, his load inevitably spills out of you because there’s just too much and you’re just too small. 

then your body bows off the couch yet again, your pretty, pink nails decked in cute little charms are digging into his thick arms, squirming underneath him as your climax unexpectedly hits you head on. your body tenses and quivers as your peak washes over you in tidal waves, squirting all over his thighs and lower stomach. daddy, daddy, daddy falls from your lips like a sacreligious prayer to a forbidden god because you’re starting to think he and his cock deserve to be worshipped. 

the blanket under you is so uncomfortably soaked. it’s unpleasant to lay on, really, but you don’t care. of course you don’t, mingyu’s fucked you too stupid for you to care about anything else other than this dick.

your pussy clamping down on his cock matched with your pathetic cries that he so fondly finds adorable are enough to tip him over the edge, and the pressure that was building in the pit of his stomach finally releases after a few more thrusts. he slides back home into the warmth of your hole, burying all of him in your tightness as he cums deep inside you with a whimper, a desperate fuck, m’cumming. it has the hairs on the back of your neck rising and your walls pulsing around him, greedy and ready for more, as if he didn’t just blow a huge load into you. 

he ruts into you again, slowly this time, just to ride out your highs, warm, sticky cum spilling out of your pussy with every draw of his hips. your poor cunt is absolutely ruined, covered in a mix of your slick and mingyu’s cum—and neither of you would have it any other way.

you’re gone by the time he pulls out. worn out. exhausted. you don’t even notice him leave to grab a washcloth then dampen it to clean you up. your breaths are heavy and your eyes struggle to stay open as he wipes you down and showers you with praise.

mingyu manages to bring you back to your shared bedroom, change you out of his soiled shirt and into a new one, and tuck you under the blankets as he holds you close to his chest. his heartbeat rings in your ears and instinctively, you melt into him, his presence warm and comforting. safe. 

“y’did so good for me, baby,” you hear him say as he kisses the top of your head. it’s a little muffled in your ears, your mind still hazy. “always so good for dad.”

you nuzzle into him, tugging him impossibly closer, and he tightens his hold around you. 

“i love you, daddy,” you manage to say. he’s just as sleepy as you now, but still, he smiles. his chest glows with pure love and adoration.

“i love you too, princess.”

[tokkiw00]

After Hours - Kim Mingyu ⌛

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DO NOT INTERACT. UNEDITED.

When the rain doesn’t stop pouring and the world seems harsher than usual, you can always find shelter in someone. For you? That’s Kim Mingyu.

⌛ mingyu x gn!reader

⌛word count: 1.7k

⌛genre: short one-shot, comfort, fluff, bf!mingyu, talent recruiter! reader, mingyu is really sweet :(

⌛ warnings: cursing, mentions of the hospital, mentions of a really shitty day, slightly heavy ig, not that much warnings honestly-

⌛ notes: hello! this will be a quick read for you guys! it's more of a short story but i've had a lot in my mind lately so i kinda just- thought dumped in it. i hope you guys find comfort in this :) thank your stopping by and reading this smol story :) my asks, messages. and requests are open! so feel free to drop by anytime! <3

Inhale. Exhale.

The weight on your shoulders is heavier today. 

Inhale. Exhale.

A 9 to 5 job was not really the plan after graduation. You think, what’s the use of your music degree if you’re not practicing it by the end? You assume you’d be working for a film post-production company after college or maybe freelance doing film scoring and songwriting. Maybe be an artist yourself, release your own music— your art, your soul.

You always had big dreams.

But here you are, working an almost 12-hour-shift for an entertainment company that barely pays you. Your salary can hardly cover your rent and you don’t even get to rest properly— Ending your day at 9pm and then having to go to work at 6:30 in the morning just so you won’t encounter the rush of people in the morning train. 

You were lucky enough that your family agreed on helping you pay for your own place while you pay your bills.

Inhale. Exhale.

Today was longer than usual.

You missed your alarm this morning, making you leave your place later than usual, and by the time you arrived at the train station, it was already almost 8.

Before you got to work, you had a university student, who was in a rush, accidentally spill their coffee on you. You couldn’t even be mad when you saw the poor girl’s disheveled look, so you just let it pass as she continued apologizing to you.

You went to the company with your cream sleeves stained brown, having to ignore the judging looks you got from other employees as you clocked in by a nose.

Inhale. Exhale.

You were in charge of your companies’ artists— having to do their paperwork and PR every time they release new music or a new comeback.

You’re good with deadlines and emails, you really are.

But today, you got falsely accused of not sending an important email that had something to do with a release for the next week. You got an earful from your superior just before lunch— your colleagues watching from the glass window as you got scolded alone in the meeting room.

When your superior saw that you did email them the documents they needed, they offered no apology whatsoever for their haughty behavior— only scoffing and glaring at you as they walked out of the meeting room.

Inhale. Exhale.

You ran around the building today.

After lunch, you tended to what your artists needed.

Your artists’ managers were demanding a lot— from scheduling the practice rooms, having more studio time, to fixing comeback schedules and tour dates. In addition to that, since some of your colleagues were on leave, you were the one handling their artists while they’re gone.

You know you’re good at your job, but it feels a little more taxing today.

Every “congratulations” and pat on the shoulder from the managers felt like it added to the weight of it all.

A little reminder of what you’ve been through the whole day.

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate them, it’s just you wanted to rest.

Inhale. Exhale.

You were still in the building when your mother just called, telling you that your grandmother needs to be operated on.

You feel the twinge on your chest as you listen to her tell you her troubles. You’d rather have her tell you these things rather than keep it to herself. You’re aware that it’s not your responsibility, but as the eldest child, you feel like you had to do something. 

You hate having to think that your mom would bear it all alone.

You talk about her day, your siblings, and solutions for covering the hospital bill over the phone call. When your mom tells you that your aunts were willing to pay for the hospital bill and the additional costs, you let out a sigh of relief— that was one thorn off the stem. 

With slight resignation, you slump over your seat, looking out the office window.

Only an hour until work ends. You can finally rest, right?

Breathe in, breathe out.

It always helps.

Inhale. Exhale.

You forgot your umbrella.

The dark clouds that loom over the city cover the moon, while the heavy downpour of the rain pitter-patter across the concrete pavement.

“Shit,” you utter under your breath.

You can’t possibly go home in this weather.

You check your phone, debating whether or not to call your boyfriend to pick you up. But you remembered that he was busy and decided not to bother him anymore. 

While lost in thought, a bunch of college students pass by you, laughing under the rain and pushing each other out of their umbrellas.

Oh, how you miss that time.

You feel the migraine creeping in and your throat slowly closing up.

A shaky breath is all you can let out.

Inhale. Exhale.

Here you are, in front of the company building. The rain was falling harder and your phone was slowly blowing up with notifications from friends talking about a high school reunion.

You don’t have the heart to look at these messages anymore.

Your friends were nurses, software engineers, and university assistants who get paid full and can travel around when they can. They graduated a year or two before you could while you were stuck with this one minor subject in uni because you can barely pass it.

You’re proud of them. You’re happy for them. But you can’t help but compare yourself to them.

What do you even say to them? You didn’t reach your dreams of becoming the artist you can be? That you’re just a mere corporate slave to the entertainment industry that you were supposed to excel on?

These thoughts didn’t help at all.

Each weight from today kept stacking one after another.

You struggle to swallow down the lump forming in your throat as your eyes fog, and the sound of your surroundings slowly drowns itself out. 

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe in, breathe out.

But it doesn’t help you. 

Inhale. Exhale.

With your head hung low, you nibble on your lower lip, picking on the bag that you were holding on to.

Pathetic, you think. 

Tears slowly fall while you stand outside the company building. The hustle and bustle of the city covers the small sob you let out.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice slowly calls. You know who it is, but you couldn’t even look up to them.

But you didn’t have to.

He cups your face, gently pulling you to look up at him.

Your eyes meet.

Kim Mingyu.

Inhale Exhale.

Seeing your dreary eyes and melancholy look, he immediately held you close to him, his arms wrapping around your shaking form as you sobbed on his chest.

Inhale. Exhale.

“My poor baby,” he coos, his palm slowly stroking your head as you sob your heart out, not caring if passersby stare at the two of you.

He pulls away slightly, wiping the tears still falling from your cheeks.

“Tired?”

You can only nod at him, pulling him back in a desperate embrace.

Inhale. Exhale.

Mingyu hums as he places his cheek on the top of your head, rubbing the small of your back. “I got worried once it started raining. I saw your umbrella on the kitchen top this morning,” he says.

You inhaled his scent, burying your face on his chest once again. 

Despite the scent of this polluted city and rain, his was the only one pervading your senses. 

“You didn’t have to come here,” you muttered.

“I wanted to,” he replies, movements not faltering even when you look up at him. “I’ve finished my projects and meetings earlier, you don’t have to worry.”

Calm and warm. 

These are what you feel when your eyes meet once again.

Mingyu is your partner, your lover, and your best friend. You didn’t have to pretend to be strong in front of him.

He knows you like the back of his hand and you can’t fool him even if you tried.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you say.

“You will never be a bother to me.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts’,” he shuts you down before you can complain.

“Y/N, we’ve been together for five years. I know when you’re tired, I know when you’re anxious. I know I have my own weight to carry, but it will never be too heavy for me to not be able to carry some of yours as well. I love you, so please let me do this for you?”

Inhale. Exhale.

“You’re going to make me cry again,” you reply, a small smile forming on your face.

The warmth on your chest slowly spreads.

It’s always easy with him. You didn’t have to try too hard nor did you have to be someone you’re not.

You’re just you when you’re with him.

He smiles when he sees you smile, “Tell me everything in the car, okay? Let’s just get out of this fucky weather and let me make you dinner at home. How’s that sound?”

The small nod you gave him was enough for him to bring out his umbrella, covering the both of you, as the two of you walk to the car.

Sure enough, on the way back home, you tell him about what happened with your superior and your artists’ managers, you tell him about your mom and your friends, you tell him everything that has happened since this morning.

He listens quietly, replying with small hums as the radio plays soft music in the background.

True to his word, he made you dinner and while eating, he lets you complain more— sometimes making jokes about how your superior looks like that one Five Nights at Freddy's animatronic. 

Once you guys have cleaned up the kitchen and have showered, the both of you lay in bed with your arms wrapped around one another and legs entangled to each other. You feel his skin against yours and his warm breath tickling your neck. 

All the troubles that were clouding your head earlier seem to vanish.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I love you, Gyu,” you say, eyes closed.

Mingyu places a soft kiss on your shoulder, “I love you too, you can always find rest in me.”

NOTE: This story is purely fictional. Any traits or decisions of the story's characters do not reflect those of their real life counterparts. This is a work of fiction and is not real. Please separate fiction from reality.

[mingyuscoffee]

ten reasons to avoid italy

pairing kim mingyu x fem! reader genre fluff | 11.5k words | exes to lovers summary when your ex joins you and your friends on a week long vacation to italy, you have no choice but to avoid and make the best of it… so how is he always next to you? warnings mentions of alcohol consumption, fear of heights, flashbacks, being seasick, taking pills for medicine (motion sickness), eating seafood, and floating away in the ocean (not far). use of y/n and seventeen member's korean names. also jeonghan and seungcheol being parents.

HEAVILY INSPIRED by the nana tour with seventeen show. please watch if you haven't, it's so fun. IF YOU HAVE WATCHED, there are many inside jokes and scenes from the show that are in this writing, so hope you can pick it out!

P.S. i included seungcheol to join the trip!

italics are flashbacks!

The Korean barbecue restaurant was filled with the delicious scent of grilled meat and spices. With you were Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Soonyoung for dinner in honor of Seokmin's birthday.

“Speaking of,” Soonyoung pours you a shot of soju from across the table, his face red from the alcohol, “We’re going to Italy with the other members in the summer if you want to join?”

Seungkwan and Seokmin study your face silently, anticipating your reaction. They knew mentioning the friend group was a sensitive subject.

“Won’t Mingyu be there?” You don’t miss a beat, “I don’t think I’m ready to see him yet.”

You had met all of SEVENTEEN through Seungkwan, your long-time family friend, and had grown close with every member. Your relationship with Mingyu blossomed from this friendship, leading to three years of dating.

Mingyu was the love of your life, but soon it became increasingly difficult to see him due to his comebacks and hectic schedules. He stopped putting effort into the relationship first so after two weeks of fighting every night, and both of you being too stubborn to apologize first, you both called it quits.

You were heartbroken, crying for a month, and since then, you hadn't been attending the monthly group dinners, concerts, and events, trying to give yourself space to heal. However, after Seungkwan spent more time with Seokmin and Soonyoung for their BSS group, the four of you started hanging out.

The three never talked about Mingyu in front of you, that was, until now.

Seokmin nudges your side, his expression playful as he tries to lift the mood. “Everyone but him. He's not available to come because he's going to Paris for a fashion show.”

Seungkwan shakes his head, focusing on the grill. "We'll get busy after summer for our comeback preparations."

You sigh, looking at the hopeful faces of your friends. You know what Seungkwan is doing; you definitely wouldn’t want to pass up a chance to relax and have fun with all your close friends, especially if it would get hard to see their faces.

Soonyoung tilts his head with a smile, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Come on, it’s also our first time in Europe! We have to experience that together,” he says, his voice filled with anticipation.

Seungkwan finally looks up, his expression softening. “And Jeonghan is planning the entire trip so there's no need to worry,” he reassures, his gaze meeting yours with warmth.

You let out a reluctant sigh, they were making it hard to say no. “Fine. Text me the details tomorrow.”

“Okay, it’s going to be so much fun!” Seokmin cheered, raising his glass in a toast.

"Salute!"

"Flight to Rome is now boarding,"

“Finally,” you mumble, rising up from the uncomfortable chair and making sure you didn’t leave anything behind.

Seungkwan informs you, gesturing towards the boarding sign. “Looks like first class is boarding now. Let’s go,” he says, urging you to follow him.

At the announcement, all of your friends make their way to Jeonghan to grab their boarding tickets. Jeonghan had organized the entire trip and booked first-class tickets for everyone, claiming it was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. You were surprised he knew someone who could help him book first-class, but you weren't complaining.

“Thanks, Jeonghan,” you say, holding the ticket in your hand and turning back to Soonyoung. "So, like I was saying..."

You walk away with him and Seungkwan to line up with everyone else, too busy explaining the plot of a new show you started.

Behind you, a curious Hansol receives his ticket last. “Jeonghan, why do you have another ticket left?”

Jeonghan informs Hansol, "That's because Mingyu’s coming soon. I have to wait for him, so we’ll board later.”

Hansol tilts his head in confusion. "Isn't he supposed to go to France today? He was packing excitedly and even looking for places to eat there."

Jeonghan shrugs, "He told me that the show got canceled in advance because it's expected to rain the entire week in Paris."

“What does rain have to do with a fashion show?”

Jeonghan’s face looks unsure, but he tells Hansol what Mingyu told him. “Uh, it was an outdoor show. I don't know, he just gave me the money to buy his ticket.”

“Okay, I'll see you both on the plane then.” Hansol places his headphones on before lining up behind Seungcheol and Junhui.

“Is anyone sitting in the same row as me?” Chan asks, and immediately everyone looks down at their tickets.

“I’m sitting in row two,” Wonwoo answers, waiting for someone to speak out.

Seungcheol grins. “Wonwoo, I’m sitting in the same row as you!” He cheers, and the two walk next to each other.

You study your own ticket.

“Does no one have row four?” you speak out loud, hoping you aren’t next to a complete stranger.

Everyone starts finding their seat buddy while you stand alone.

On the plane, the seats were isolated, but the seats were in pairs, so two people had their own space but still sat next to each other.

“Last time I checked, I’m with Jeonghan,” Joshua announces, showing everyone his boarding ticket.

“I guess I’m the only one in my row,”

You hand your head low, realizing that since the group was an odd number of thirteen, someone was bound to sit alone if there were pairs of two. It was just weird because you were in one of the middle rows, being row four, and you assumed a later row would be a single person.

“It’s okay,” Seokmin reassures you. “If it’s a stranger, you can just sleep the whole time.”

You board the plane with your friends, the luxurious first-class cabin welcoming you with spacious seats and attentive flight attendants. The atmosphere is a mix of excited chatter and the soft hum of the airplane engines.

In front of you, your friends start to find their seats and settle down.

"This feels great," you say, finding your cubby, immediately sitting down and leaning back in the comfortable space.

Junhui and Minghao walk down the aisle and spot your relaxed state, laughing at how quickly you settled into your seat.

You look for the sleeping mask that is given to everyone, planning to get a blanket later and fall asleep.

It was a habit of yours to sleep on the plane, and plus, you had been working until last night, so you needed to rest now before landing.

"Are you looking for a sleeping mask?" A voice asks from beside you. You remain busy rummaging through the gift bag to turn your head.

"Yes, I think it's in this bag, thank you," you answer, assuming it is a flight attendant.

To your luck, the sleeping mask was not inside the bag; instead, there was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush.

"Here," the person says again. You freeze, staring at the sleeping mask.

"Wait, that's mine..." you trail off, staring at your old sleeping mask.

It was the one that you used when traveling with Mingyu.

Your eyes slowly look up to the owner of the voice.

"What are you doing here?" was the first thing Kim Mingyu heard from you after exactly six months of not talking.

His hand is still out, the sleeping mask you used to wear during vacations with him in his hand.

Mingyu's expression is calm, “This is my seat,” he motions at the empty cubicle next to yours.

You don't have anything to say as your mind races, anger bubbling up inside you.

Mingyu sighs, glancing at the sleeping mask. “I brought this because I know you like to sleep on planes. I thought it might help you.”

"Everyone said that you're not availab-" You stop mid-sentence, deciding it is not a priority to interrogate him.

You glance around, desperately wanting to change seats with one of your friends.

When you catch the stewardess’ eye, she smiles and announces to the plane, "Everyone, please remain in their seats for takeoff."

Frustrated, you comply and turn back, determined to ignore Mingyu.

He quietly sits down, a frown on his lips.

He hoped to be on talking terms with you, but he expected too much.

You place your headphones on and look out the window, ignoring his presence as the plane taxis down the runway and ascends into the clouds.

You close your eyes, trying to block out the thoughts of Mingyu. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the soothing hum of the airplane engines.

You were not going to get any second of sleep now.

1. YOUR EX IS ALSO GOING TO ITALY

“We swear, we had no idea Mingyu was coming!” Seungkwan's voice is frantic, trying to prove his innocence. His eyes remain wide since the moment he witnessed Mingyu walking behind you out of the plane.

“Seungkwan, then tell me why my ex,” you point behind Seungkwan's head to where Mingyu is standing, talking to Wonwoo and Minghao, “is here, in Rome, with us right now.”

You kept your cool on the plane, although seeing Mingyu would have made you emotional, and tried to fall asleep to express your anger after getting off the plane.

It was night when you arrived, and Jeonghan was trying to call the arranged transportation to take you all to the villa he booked.

All your friends stood around waiting for Jeonghan to finish talking to the airport receptionist while you pulled your three friends to a secluded corner, away from earshot.

"I still can't believe he's here though," Soonyoung spoke, taking a peek at Mingyu.

Seokmin nodded along with a slight grin, thinking of all the chances for Mingyu to sit with you, "And that Y/n had to sit next to him the entire eleven-hour plane ride."

Soonyoung, noticing your irritated state, chimes in, “Before we asked you to join us on the trip, we checked the group's schedule. Mingyu was supposed to be the only one not available to come because of his event.”

Seokmin steps in, his expression earnest. “We seriously don’t know why he’s here, either!”

Maybe your best friends are telling the truth.

They have been going out of their way to prevent you and Mingyu from crossing paths, but still, how did this happen?

“Wait,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes looking behind you. "It must have been Jeong-"

“Hey,” Jeonghan approaches your group first, causing Seungkwan to bite his tongue. "Time to head to our villa now," Jeonghan points to the exit of the airport, where the rest of your friends are socializing.

You glance back at Mingyu, who is laughing at something Wonwoo said.

You take a deep breath, this vacation is supposed to be about relaxation and fun, not dealing with feelings from the past.

“This is not going to be fun,” you say while all of you trail behind Jeonghan to leave.

“Okay, the transportation is sorted,” Jeonghan briefs, glancing at each of you. “Let’s head to the villa and settle in for the night.”

The group was split into four cars, so obviously you chose to ride with your close friends.

You sit in the passenger seat, placing on your seatbelt, while Soonyoung gets in the driver's seat. You place the villa's address into your phone for directions while Seungkwan and Seokmin place the luggage into the trunk of the car.

"Do you have space for me?" You spot Hansol outside your window with his suitcase.

"Oh, hey Hansol, we have one more seat, you can drive with us." You offer and point to his suitcase, "You should give that to Seungkwan and Seokmin now before they finish loading the trunk."

"Okay, thanks," Hansol walks behind the car so you and Soonyoung can set up the navigation once again.

"Are we ready to go?" Soonyoung asks once Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Hansol place their seatbelt on.

After hearing the choruses of yes, Soonyoung starts the car out of the airport's parking lot, leading the rest of the cars to the villa.

You stare out the window at the passing city lights, until Seokmin turns on songs to sing along to.

"I'm excited for this vacation," Seungkwan sighs while looking out the window at the streets of Rome.

Hansol agrees, "Yeah since all of our friends are here,"

You sigh from the front row, "I hope this vacation gets better,"

Hansol reads the room quickly, "Oh, is it because of Mingyu?"

"Yeah, we all thought he wasn't coming so I wasn't mentally prepared to see him." You turn your head to face Hansol and offer him a smile, "But I'm still glad I came because I haven't seen everyone in so long."

Hansol drums his fingers on his knee, "Jeonghan told me that Mingyu's fashion show got canceled so he joined us."

Seungkwan's eyes widen, "It got canceled? Wow, he really looked forward to that trip."

Hansol replies, "Yeah, that's what I thought when I heard. I guess no one really expected it either."

Suddenly, Seokmin gets excited over the next song from his playlist, singing along to the lyrics. The burst of energy causes Soonyoung to chuckle from the driver's seat, while you and Seungkwan try to record a video of this moment.

The way your friends know how to make you laugh in a situation like this, made you feel hopeful for the vacation.

"Y/n, wake up! We have to check out the sandwich shop!"

Soonyoung steps into your room and walks over to open the window curtains, hoping that the sunlight will wake you up. Your first instinct is to cover your entire body with the white blanket, snuggling your head deeper into the fluffy pillow.

"Soonyoung, let me sleep in."

You hear another voice entering the room, "Y/n, get up!"

This time you let out a loud groan, "Guys," You peek an eye open and move the covers, "Why are we going to buy sandwiches in the morning?"

Seokmin stands near the door, holding a toothbrush with toothpaste on it.

"It's actually lunchtime," Soonyoung stares out to admire the view from your room, comparing it with his.

Jeonghan had found a villa with a lot of bedrooms, so a lot of people were able to get single rooms, including yourself.

"Everyone woke up late from traveling yesterday," Soonyoung tells you.

"You have twenty minutes before we head out." Seokimin starts brushing his teeth in your room while Soonyoung walks past to leave, "Come on, they're all waiting." His voice is muffled by the toothpaste, but nonetheless, you can make out his words.

After a sigh, you turn to rise from your bed and decide to join them.

"Seokmin," He turns around by your door, the white toothpaste threatening to spill from his lips.

“Who's they?”

Seokmin smiles sheepishly, before running to the bathroom down the hall.

2. YOUR FRIENDS WILL DRAG YOU TO FIVE-STAR SANDWICH SHOPS

"Okay, let me pay, you can all wait outside," Chan announces, waving the group off as he nears the counter.

You allow Joshua, Mingyu, Jun, and Jihoon to walk out of the sandwich shop near your villa, leaving yourself with Soonyoung and Seokmin inside the store, while Chan attempts to pay for the sandwiches in Italian.

"So," You turn to Soonyoung and Seokmin, who suddenly decide to help out Chan. To them, the prices on the menu look very interesting right now.

Chan's eyes slightly widen in surprise at your state, before he takes a few steps back to listen to his Google Translate for Italian.

"Okay, in our opinion," Seokmin starts, scratching the back of his head.

"This sandwich shop shouldn't be passed up just because Mingyu was going."

"How do you even know this place is good? You've never been to Italy before." You start waving your hands around, hopefully not scaring the store owner who is making eight sandwiches behind the counter.

Soonyoung opens his phone, showing his screen with a grin, "Look here, the Yelp rating says five stars."

"Seriously?"

"But, it's five stars!"

Your mouth thins into a line, "You know what, okay," you pinch the bridge of your nose, "I know I can't just avoid him forever. But next time, please let me know in advance so I'm aware."

Before they agree, an alert voice interrupts your conversation.

"Hai appena detto che sono cento euro?" [Did you just say it’s two hundred euros?]

After the delicious lunch and a new five-star Yelp review from a satisfied Soonyoung, you were joined by everyone else to head to the Arco di Constantino.

A giant bus stood in front of you, one that Jeonghan had rented for the rest of the trip for easier travel, so you went in with Seungkwan and sat in one of the two-seat rows in the middle.

The rest of your friends trail in loudly, most of them walking past you to sit in the back row.

To your surprise, Mingyu plops down on the seat in the row next to you.

When Seokmin comes to sit next to Mingyu, he stands up for Seokmin to sit in the window seat.

After Seokmin sits down, Mingyu sits to place his seatbelt on and meets your eyes, "What? I like the aisle seat."

You shrug, turning your head away from Mingyu.

It wasn't your business where he sat down although right now, it was right next to you.

"After a war ends, Constantino walks under it to celebrate his victory."

"No way, that's correct!"

"How did you know that, Mingyu?" You hear a curious Seungcheol behind you.

"I guessed, I can't even believe I got that right," Mingyu admits, stunned at his own response.

Wonwoo is next to them, asking another question to entertain the two.

The bus arrived at the location and everyone was walking closer to see the building.

The Arch of Constantine was breathtaking, its ancient structure standing tall against the bright blue sky. As you walked through the historic site, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe.

"There are carvings on the gate," Soonyoung points out while walking down the gray stone path. "How do you think they made it?"

Jihoon stares up at the gate next to you, "They probably placed a stone down and carved it, then added more stones on top."

You tilt your head, "The attention to detail is insane,"

"It's next to the colosseum," Minghao says, taking out his phone to take photos. The group splits up to take photos of the arch and the colosseum.

While walking back to the bus, Junhui suddenly says, "I'm kind of craving gelato right now."

"You want some?" Jeonghan asks Junhui from beside you.

"Yeah, I want some," Soonyoung responds, spotting the little stand in front of you.

"Can we agree on a flavor?" Seungcheol asks while staring back at the entire group.

"Is lemon good?" You suggest while staring back at the flavors.

It was easier to agree on a flavor when getting food with a big friend group.

"Yeah, I'll order." Joshua offers, so you step back from the stand to wait for a cone with Seungkwan.

You see Seokmin and Hansol walk over to Minghao to ask for a bite, both of them complimenting the gelato.

Wonwoo joins the two of you with a cone, licking the gelato, "I feel so happy while eating this,"

Mingyu and Junhui join your circle, both holding lemon gelatos in hand.

"I feel like I can travel the world with just a camera," Wonwoo adds, engaging in the conversation with Seungkwan.

Mingyu taps your shoulder quietly, handing you his gelato.

Your mouth is open in surprise, "What about you?"

Mingyu shrugs, following after Junhui, Wonwoo, and Seungkwan who start walking to the bus.

"Thanks," you tell him before hurrying to the group.

When you were busy talking to Wonwoo and Junhui about your hopes to travel in the future, you hear Seungkwan scolding in the back, "Mingyu, why didn't you get your own, stop talking mine!"

3. YOU WILL HAVE TO BE CIVIL WITH YOUR EX

"We're back!" You hear Chan from downstairs.

Seungkwan, Chan, and Mingyu went to get groceries at a nearby market for dinner, while the rest of you returned to the villa.

"Can we make kimchi stew?" You hear Soonyoung ask from the kitchen when you reach the end of the staircase. As you enter the first floor, you see Mingyu and Chan unloading the groceries into the refrigerator while Soonyoung, Wonwoo, and Seungcheol open the other non-perishable items.

"Ask Seokmin when he comes down, but I think we can," You answer, studying the packages of food that peeked out of the boxes.

"This is egg," Mingyu says to Chan, handing over a carton of eggs. "Be careful."

"This is ice cream," Mingyu takes out a box of ice cream this time, "It's melting!"

Chan hurries to place the ice cream inside the freezer, matching Mingyu's energy, "Emergency!"

You smile for a second at their behavior, before snapping out it. If Soonyoung notices from beside you, he doesn't say anything.

"Okay, I'll cook the meat," Mingyu suggests after everyone forms a circle around the kitchen island.

"I'll work on the stew," Seokmin adds, walking over to grab some pork.

You stand across Seokimin, with Soonyoung and Wonwoo by your side, watching as Seokmin cuts up the pork.

"Honestly, we have to leave the cooking to the professionals," Wonwoo says next to you, staring at the rest of your friends who are in the kitchen.

Minghao stirs up eggs to include it with the fried rice, Jihoon adds kimchi and pork into the pan, and Jisoo goes to help wash the vegetables.

"You're right," You decide to sit on the table away from the kitchen and watch the rest of your friends with Hansol and Seungcheol instead.

Eventually, the food is prepared and everyone walks outside to the backyard, where Chan and Wonwoo had already set up the chairs.

"Food coming through!" Seokmin yells as you take a seat in the middle area. You laugh at Seokmin's actions, swerving by a surprised Junhui who was also on the way out to sit.

"Is everything done?" Jeonghan asks, taking a seat next to you.

You nod, "I think so, I'm starving!"

As you guessed, other friends started coming outside, some with the food that they made.

"This looks so good," Wonwoo says across from you, staring at the fried rice and eggs placed on a white plate.

"This tastes good!" Soonyoung compliments the fried rice, after taking a bite.

Mingyu walks outside with the plate of meat spread with barbeque sauce, from Chan and Jisoo's request.

You open your chopsticks, gazing around at the table. All your friends have sat down around, somehow leaving the only empty seat next to you.

"Hey," You nudge Mingyu quietly, "Can we talk?"

Mingyu meets your eyes, placing down his shot glass, "Here?"

You shake your head, scanning the situation around you. The meal had made everyone happy, resulting in more drinking games.

Thankfully, you and Mingyu had not drank too much, and no one seemed to notice you and Mingyu talking in the first place, everyone being too drunk already.

"Inside, I'll go first."

You rise from your seat, taking the chance of Seokmin and Seungcheol singing a karaoke song as the perfect distraction to go inside.

Two minutes later, Mingyu finds you leaning on the kitchen island, pouring yourself a cup of water.

"Hey," He approaches you while playing with his fingers, "What did you want to talk about?"

When you look up from the glass cup, Mingyu's standing on the other side of the island, waiting for you to answer.

"Oh, hey, I just wanted to talk about us..." You trail off, tracing over the top of the cup.

"Listen. I know we haven't spoken since our breakup." Mingyu has a frown on his lips, allowing you to continue.

"But I also care about our friends, and I want to be civil, so we don't make our friends feel awkward or uncomfortable."

Mingyu nods slowly, "Okay, so what are you implying?"

"We stay on talking terms for the remainder of the vacation, just until we get back.."

You run a hand through your hair, "So, friends?"

You place a hand out, waiting for Mingyu to shake it.

"Yeah, friends," Mingyu finishes, shaking your hand.

"I'm going to go head back out first." You take your glass cup and walk past him.

"It's time for Yoon-zino!"

4. YOU WILL CARE FOR YOUR EX

“I can’t wait for this hot air balloon,” Minghao says before yawning.

It was the third day of the vacation. The plan was to wake up early and enjoy a hot air balloon ride over the Italian countryside.

The bus was silent, with everyone sleeping during the ride, but after arriving, the group was loud in excitement.

As you approach the balloon, you overhear Wonwoo and Seungcheol talking enthusiastically. “This is going to be amazing,” Wonwoo says, his camera ready to capture every moment.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Seungcheol adds with a grin.

Mingyu stands with them, nodding in agreement, but you can see the fear in his eyes. “Yeah, definitely,” he says, trying to sound convincing.

The balloon ascends, and the view of the Italian countryside is breathtaking. The rolling hills and vineyards spread out below, bathed in the golden light of dawn.

Mingyu is gripping the edge tightly, his knuckles white. He tries to mask his fear with a tight-lipped smile, but it is clear to anyone paying attention that he is struggling. His eyes dart around nervously, avoiding looking directly down.

You notice Mingyu’s discomfort immediately. You want to reach out and hold his hand, to comfort him like you used to, but you hesitate. Mingyu notices, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment and pleading silently for some form of reassurance.

“Y/n, look at this view!” Seungcheol calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, forcing a smile as you turn your attention back to the scenery. You can still see Mingyu from the corner of your eye, his grip on the edge not loosening.

Hansol is taking pictures with his phone, while Wonwoo quietly admires the scenery through his camera lens.

You watch as Mingyu’s discomfort grows. His breaths are shallow, and he keeps shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m going to take some pictures too,” Seungcheol says, moving around the basket and giving you a clearer view of Mingyu. He glances at you, his eyes silently begging for support.

You almost reach out, almost say something comforting, but you stop yourself. It isn’t your place anymore. You have decided to stay friends, nothing more. But seeing his clear distress, you can't ignore it any longer.

Carefully, you inch closer to Mingyu, making sure none of the others are watching. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently and trying to hide the gesture from the others.

Mingyu looks at you in surprise but he squeezes back, finding comfort from your touch.

“Thanks,” he whispers, barely audible over the sound of the wind.

You nod, offering a small, reassuring smile. For the remainder of the ride, you stay close, your hands intertwined and hidden, providing the comfort he needs away from the others' eyes. Gradually, you notice Mingyu relaxing, his grip on the edge loosening as he starts to enjoy the view.

“Wow, it’s really something,” he says, his voice steadier.

“It is,” you agree, feeling a warmth spread through you at his newfound ease.

Wonwoo continues taking photos with his camera, capturing the beautiful landscape and candid moments of the group. Hansol leans over the edge, enjoying the view with a wide grin on his face.

Later, Hansol bursts into laughter, pointing across to the second hot air balloon where Seungkwan and Seokmin are making exaggerated faces and gestures.

“Look at those two,” Hansol chuckles. “They’re having the time of their lives.”

You look over and can’t help but smile at Seungkwan and Seokmin’s antics, their laughter carrying across the distance between the balloons.

The group is split into three hot air balloons, and you can see the others waving and enjoying the ride just as much.

The ride finally ends, and as soon as the basket touches the ground, you gently pull your hand away. Mingyu lets go reluctantly, a hint of disappointment flashing across his face, but he understands.

As the group gathers for a photo, you find yourself standing next to Mingyu. He looks at you, a small, tired smile on his lips.

“Thanks for sticking close,” he says softly, though you know he means more than just the balloon ride.

“Of course,” you reply, equally softly. “What are friends for?”

For a moment, you catch a glimpse of Mingyu's smile falling, before you turn to walk away. Maybe you're both struggling to define the boundaries of your relationship.

“You guys ready to explore more?” Minghao asks his camera in hand.

“Yes!” Joshua replies enthusiastically.

Jihoon, who has been quietly enjoying the ride, chimes in with a rare joke. “Wow, that was fun. I should leave the house more often,” he says, making everyone laugh.

You walk away, mingling with the others, but the memory of Mingyu’s fear and your shared moment stays with you. Maybe, just maybe, there is still something worth salvaging between you two.

5. YOU WILL STILL HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOUR EX

As the group returns from their hot air balloon adventure, the energy is still high as they gather in the backyard to enjoy the karaoke machine set up outside the villa.

Wonwoo and Seokmin finish singing the final line of their song, and the karaoke machine score comes out with a neat 100 points on the television screen, prompting cheers and applause from everyone.

Seungkwan and Seungcheol take charge of choosing the next song, and Seungcheol suggests, "Let's do an old song!"

He looks over the song choices from their discography, while Hansol points from the couch next to you, "What about 'Run to You'?"

Soonyoung eagerly agrees, asking for a microphone from Seokmin to sing. The familiar intro starts, and Seungcheol decides to sing Jisoo's part in the beginning, causing the group to laugh before they all join in singing.

As the song plays, you find yourself laughing along with the others, but as the lyrics fill the atmosphere, a sense of melancholy washes over you. The words hit close to home, reminding you of the past and the promises made.

"지금 난 너와 똑같은 무엇이든 필요해 하지만 나에겐 있지 않으니까 우리 다시 만나자 내가 도착하기 전까지 잘 지내고 있어야 해 지금 널 찾아가고 있어"

[Right now, you and I, we both need the same thing But I don't have it so let's meet again later Please be well until I get there I'm going to you right now]

Soonyoung finishes his line and Junhui excitedly calls from the kitchen, announcing that dinner is ready and to go outside to the people inside.

While everyone comes out to the backyard for dinner, you can't shake the bittersweet feeling that lingers from the past conversation with Mingyu.

You get up from the lounge chair, making your way over to take a seat between Soonyoung and Mingyu, the latter observing quietly as you and Soonyoung engage in light-hearted conversation.

As the meal progresses, you find yourself feeling increasingly nostalgic and sad, the memories of your past relationship with Mingyu weighing heavily on your mind. To distract yourself, you accept the drink offered by Soonyoung, the liquid warmth soothing your troubled thoughts.

"Will you always come back to me?" you hear Mingyu ask, his tone serious, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turn your head to Mingyu, currently cuddling in bed together, and his sudden change in mood surprises you. "Baby, that's such a dumb question. Where would I go?"

But Mingyu's face remains serious, causing you to pull him closer to you, seeking reassurance. "No seriously, Mingyu. I'm not going anywhere."

Mingyu sighs, resting his head on top of yours, your bodies tangled under the covers. "If we were to ever stay apart, can you promise me that you'll come back to me?"

Confused, you pull slightly away, trying to meet Mingyu's eyes. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Mingyu shakes his head, his expression pained. "No, never, but if anything were to happen between us, can you promise me that you won't stop loving me?"

Your heart aches at his words, realizing the depth of his fears. You trace over his facial features, feeling a pang of sadness. "Baby, you're seriously scaring me. Why would I stop loving you?"

But Mingyu pouts, his worries still evident. "Just in case, if we were to ever have anything come between us, promise that you will always come right back to me."

You smile softly, understanding his fears. "Yes, I promise that if anything were to happen between us, I will always come back to you."

“What if you don’t?” Mingyu presses on, “What if you don’t come back?”

You think for a second, before answering him, “If you keep loving me, I will always go back to you.”

As the evening progresses and the drinks flow freely, you find yourself drinking more than usual.

Mingyu notices your increasing intoxication and leans over, his voice low with concern. "Hey, maybe you should slow down on the drinking," he suggests gently, but you brush off his concern, insisting you're fine.

Seeing that you're not listening to Mingyu, he calls out to Seungkwan, who is engaged in conversation with Jeonghan a few seats away.

"Seungkwan, could you help Y/n out? I think she's had enough," Mingyu says, taking away the glass full of alcohol before you take a shot with Soonyoung.

Seungkwan nods and quickly comes to your side, gently taking your arm. "Come on, let's get you back to your room," he says softly, guiding you away from the table.

As you walk back to your room with Seungkwan, the alcohol clouding your thoughts, you can't help but open up to him about your feelings for Mingyu.

"I think I like him again," you confess, "I don't know what to do."

Seungkwan listens intently, offering comfort and support as you grapple with your emotions.

6. YOUR EX ALSO CARES FOR YOU

The next day, the plan was to visit a wine festival nearby. It was the last day of the festival, so there were going to be a lot of people.

The group split off, Junhui far ahead first like a curious child, sampling different wines and enjoying the picturesque surroundings. Mingyu, Seokmin, and Chan stayed close by, though you spent most of your time with Seungkwan and Soonyoung.

“Try this one, Y/n,” Seungkwan hands you his glass of red wine after the vendor stops pourng into his glass.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip. You could feel Mingyu’s eyes on you, but you refused to look his way.

After a few more sips of wine, your trio was walking in different directions and giggling after every word.

"Soonyoung, you know you're a great friend, right?" You hear Seungkwan say next to you.

Soonyoung finishes his nth cup of wine before flashing a grin, "Aw, you're a great friend too, Seungkwan."

"What about me?"

As the wine tour continued, Mingyu found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. He hovered nearby, subtly keeping an eye on you as you laughed and chatted with Seungkwan and Soonyoung.

Meanwhile, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself, the effects of the wine starting to take hold as you giggled and stumbled your way through the booths.

Seungkwan handed you another glass of red wine, and you accepted it with a grin, taking a sip and savoring the rich flavor.

"Thanks, Seungkwan," you say, feeling the warmth of the wine spreading through your body. "This is delicious."

Soonyoung, equally intoxicated, chimes in with a laugh, "Seungkwan's our wine connoisseur today!"

The three of you continued to wander down the path, sampling different wines and enjoying the picturesque surroundings.

Mingyu stayed close by, though he kept his distance, watching over you from afar. But as the night progressed, Mingyu couldn't help but feel a pang of concern as he watched you grow more and more tipsy.

Eventually, as the group make their way back to the bus, you stumble, nearly tripping over your own feet.

Mingyu quickly moves to steady you, his hands gripping your shoulders to keep you upright.

"Careful there," he says softly.

You blink up at him, a playful grin on your lips. "I'm fine, Gyu," you insist, though your words are slightly slurred.

Mingyu sighed, knowing there was no reasoning with you in your current state. Instead, he simply nodded, guiding you back to the bus with a gentle hand on your back.

Once on board, you quickly found a seat and slumped against the window, exhaustion starting to set in. Mingyu sat down beside you, watching over you protectively as you drifted off to sleep.

As the bus rumbled back towards the villa, Mingyu took you back to your bedroom, tucking you in and closing the door behind him.

He already knew you wouldn't remember anything tomorrow.

7. YOUR EX WILL HELP YOU

You do not recall anything from yesterday, except that you had a lot of fun with Soonyoung and Seungkwan in the beginning.

When you went downstairs, Hansol told you that Mingyu took care of you the entire time and you couldn't help but stand in shock.

The rest of your friends came downstairs to eat a quick breakfast before departing.

The plan was to travel to Port de Marlei and ride a big yacht, that Jeonghan had pulled some strings for, before having a seafood dinner to end the night.

"Has anyone seen my volleyball?" Seungkwan asks while looking around the boat, hoping it miraculously jumped from the port to the yacht.

Including you, everyone shakes their head no.

While Seungkwan left his tote bag on a bench at the port, the ball rolled away. He was upset because he had grown attached to the volleyball during the vacation, taking it everywhere with him.

Seokmin is right behind Seungkwan, attempting to help him find the volleyball. The two head towards the front of the boat, while the rest of you remain sitting around the lounge area.

"I'm going to feel seasick," Wonwoo says, trying to prepare himself for the ride.

Jeonghan also agrees with Wonwoo, "Me too, I didn't bring any medicine."

Mingyu, who had disappeared earlier, returns to the group, standing in front of you with a small bottle.

"Here," he opens his hand to give you medicine for sea sickness, "I asked the boat crew and they had some."

Everyone stares, except Chan who is busy trying to connect to the Bluetooth speaker. "Oh, thanks," you say, surprised at Mingyu's thoughtfulness.

"Wow, Mingyu, what about us?" Jeonghan teases and you take out a pill before giving the medicine to Jeonghan and Wonwoo.

"There's enough to go around," you roll your eyes, taking the medicine with water, before giving the water to the two.

Your heart warms from the caring gesture, but you don't want it to show.

"It's time to depart," the captain of the boat informs everyone, and Seungkwan and Seokmin return from the front, Seungkwan still frowning.

Chan starts playing a ballad song and everyone starts singing along, especially Seungkwan.

Everyone laughs as your best friend starts to sing loudly as if he wasn't upset over losing his volleyball moments ago, and soon others join in to sing.

"Is that a jellyfish?" Seungkwan questions clutching his volleyball.

Everyone had already hopped into the ocean to swim, so it was only you, Seungkwan, and the boat crew left on the yacht.

You stop placing on the snorkeling equipment, turning over to the ocean surface that he was gazing at.

"Wow, that is a jellyfish. Do you think it's safe?" you ask, before tapping the shoulder of a nice lady who was part of the boat crew.

Earlier, she helped Seungkwan find his missing volleyball. Apparently, after the volleyball rolled out of Seungkwan's tote bag at Port de Marlei, the captain of the boat happened to pick it up and throw it onto the front of the yacht.

When the boat crew members finally realized that Seungkwan was looking for a volleyball, the nice lady went to retrieve it from the front, giving it to a now-happy Seungkwan.

You and Seungkwan had taken a liking to her ever since.

She stopped talking to the other crew workers, eyes following where Seungkwan was pointing.

"That is safe," she explains politely, "Not poisonous."

With a sigh of relief, you decide to hop into the ocean first.

"Did you say piranha?" Is the last thing you hear from Seungkwan, along with the crew laughing at him being gullible from their jokes, before swimming away.

"Water taxi coming through." After snorkeling around, you come up to the surface, still swimming, only to see Soonyoung and Chan sitting on top of a paddle board and using the paddle sticks to move around the ocean.

You watch curiously while Jisoo asks to get on the board, which results in the entire board flipping over.

You shake your head while laughing then go back into swimming in the deep waters.

Jihoon is near you, with snorkeling gear on and exploring the water too. You join him and Junhui to dive deeper.

After about an hour in the water, and many explanations from Seungkwan to others that the jellyfish is safe, you notice Hansol leaving the floatie to hop back on the yacht.

You swim toward the floatie, deciding to tan a bit on top of it.

What you didn't realize, is that swimming had worn you out, resulting in you taking a slight nap.

"Where's Y/n?" Mingyu hears as he climbs back on the yacht.

"She was swimming with Jihoon and Junhui earlier..." Joshua trails off, realizing that Jihoon and Junhui were back on the boat, resting on the chairs with others.

"Wait, actually though, where is she?" Seungcheol and Joshua see Mingyu on alert and realize you are nowhere to be found from the group of people still in the water.

Soonyoung and Seungkwan climb on the yacht to look for you too.

"Is anyone next to Y/n?" Mingyu yells from the yacht to the people in the water, hoping you were just diving for a solid two minutes and someone saw you go under the waters.

"Wait, don't tell me that's her," Joshua points from the edge of the boat to a floatie that seems to get further by the second. "How did she get so far?"

"Oh my god, I think she's napping. Does she have a life jacket on?"

Seungkwan recalls you before the two of you went into the water, "I don't think she does."

"We have to tell the boat crew," Soonyoung says, staring at how you were closer to the rocks than the yacht now.

However, before anyone can get to the captain, Mingyu has a life jacket on, and a spare one in his hand, and jumps into the water.

"Don't tell me he's swimming to her." Seungkwan puts a hand over his mouth in surprise.

Seungcheol shakes his head at Mingyu's actions, a smile still ghosting his lips, "Kim Mingyu, I guess that's what love does to you," He jokes while Soonyoung walks past to still inform the crew.

"Y/n!" You groan, opening your eyes and coming to your senses. There's sunlight directly on your eyes, making you squint your eyes.

"What? Oh my god," You yell, before realizing that you had fallen asleep, on a floatie. You sit up and see that you were far from the yacht.

Among the big gap of water from the boat, you spot someone close and swimming to you.

Mingyu's life jacket prevents him from drowning, and he swims to reach your floatie.

"Mingyu? Why are we so far from the boat?"

"Hey, it's okay, here," he hands you a spare life jacket that he took with him, which makes him thankful to bring because you weren't wearing one.

Mingyu holds onto your floatie while you place the life jacket on.

"So, are we swimming back to the boat or," you smile slightly, feeling embarrassed that this situation happened.

"I think the boat is coming closer, then we can go swim to it," Mingyu explains, watching how your friends had started to leave the ocean waters and a few were staring at all of you from the edge of the boat.

"Thanks," You say quietly, still sitting on top of the floatie. Mingyu remains in the water, running a hand through his hair.

"Be more careful next time, what if Seungcheol and Jisoo didn't realize you went missing? What if something serious happened to you?"

You remain quiet at Mingyu's lecture, staring down at your fingers.

"I'm sorry, I was just so tired that I fell asleep on the floatie." Before Mingyu can answer, you hear the yacht coming closer to you two.

"Guys, swim over now." Jeonghan yells from the edge of the boat.

You laugh at him, before sending Mingyu a smile and swimming back with him.

"The menu looks so cute," Seokmin says loudly, passing on the extra menu pamphlets down the row.

It was time for dinner, at a nearby seafood restaurant.

"I can't read what it says," Junhui says from in front of you, handing Mingyu a menu next to him.

Hansol and Soonyoung sit on either side of you and you receive a menu too.

"What food do you want?" You ask Junhui, trying to read the menu. The menu is filled with Italian, hence why it would be difficult for someone to order.

"I want a lobster with butter," Junhui answers, and you look down the menu for anything that seems to match what he wants.

"I want grilled lobster, too." You say out loud, closing the menu because you can't find the lobster selection on the menu.

"We should just ask," Mingyu suggests, placing his menu down.

"Do you guys have lobster?" Mingyu asks the nice waitress, "Grilled lobster?"

The woman looks confused, answering "We have pasta,"

Hansol, Soonyoung, Junhui, and you burst out laughing at the conversation going on.

"Pasta?" Mingyu repeats what she said, "Yes," the waitress replies.

Mingyu holds out his hands, imitating lobster claws, "No, lobster,"

Again, you and Hansol laugh at his actions, and you realize how determined Mingyu looks to help you and Junhui out.

The waitress seems to understand what Mingyu asks, nodding her head with a smile, "Oh, lobster, okay."

From next to you, Soonyoung decides to joke around, "We are superstar," he adds, "He is popstar,"

You and Hansol stop mid-laugh, trying to shush Soonyoung so that he won't expose the group's identities.

"Grazi" [Thanks] Hansol says when he receives his seafood pasta.

You stare down at the table, as your food hasn't arrived yet, trying to see what your friends ordered.

The waitress places a plate of oysters on the table for your group and Soonyoung immediately digs in to eat.

Eventually, all of your food arrives, including yours and Junhui's grilled lobster with butter, and Seokmin decides to hold a toast.

"Everyone, salute!"

"I'm so full," you hear Seungcheol pat his stomach after walking out of the seafood restaurant. The sky above is a canvas of deep blues and purples, as the sun has just set, casting a glow over the streets of Port di Marlee.

"We should stroll around before going back on the bus," Jeonghan suggests, and everyone agrees.

The group splits into three, all walking down the cobblestone streets which are bathed in the soft light of street lamps. The air is filled with the scent of the sea and distant music from street performers.

As you walk, you find yourself in a group with Mingyu, Jihoon, Junhui, and Joshua. The streets are quieter now with fewer tourists, making the area peaceful.

"I'm kind of craving gelato," Junhui says suddenly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a small gelato stand up ahead.

"Let's get some," Joshua agrees, leading the way. The stand is quaint, set up on the street with colorful displays of gelato flavors visible through the glass counter. The ground beneath is paved with grey tiles, worn smooth by years of footsteps.

Jihoon, Junhui, and Joshua step up to order first. They chat with the vendor, a man with a thick Italian accent. You and Mingyu take a moment to decide on your flavors.

"What flavor would you like?" The owner asks you and Mingyu after your three friends have ordered their flavors.

"Can we get one mint chocolate and one vanilla?" you order for Mingyu and yourself and the owner nods, starting to scoop all five gelatos.

Mingyu looks at you, surprised. "You remember my favorite flavor?"

You nod with a smile, recalling the past, "Of course, do you not remember how many times we bought mint chocolate ice cream? I lost count."

The three overhear this exchange and share mischievous glances.

As soon as they get their gelato cones first Joshua quickly pays for all five gelatos before the three run laughing down the street, leaving you and Mingyu behind just as the vendor starts scooping your orders.

You and Mingyu exchange amused looks but decide to ignore their antics, waiting patiently for your gelato cones. The man works efficiently, handing over your gelatos.

Mingyu takes the mint chocolate cone and hands you your vanilla one. "Here you go," he says with a smile.

"Thanks," you reply, savoring the creamy sweetness. After a moment, you look at him. "Do you want a bite?"

Mingyu's eyes light up. "Sure," he says, taking a small bite of your vanilla gelato. He then offers his cone to you, and you take a taste of the refreshing mint chocolate.

"Thanks for going out of your way to save me earlier," you say, genuinely grateful.

"It was nothing," Mingyu responds, but there's a softness in his voice. "Really, I couldn't just leave you out there."

"I really appreciate it," you insist, feeling the warmth of the moment. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, walking side by side down the quiet street.

Mingyu wants to hold your hand but hesitates, remembering that you're not dating anymore. Still, the closeness feels right.

Meanwhile, Jihoon, Joshua, and Junhui catch up with Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Chan, and Wonwoo, who are further up the street, sharing their gelatos and talking animatedly.

"Did you leave them behind?" Seungkwan asks with a grin, noticing that the three were out of breath.

"Yeah, we gave them some space," Jihoon replies, laughing.

"I wonder if they'll get back together," Chan muses, looking back down the street.

"I hope so," Junhui says, taking a big bite of his gelato. "They were so good together."

"I've never seen Mingyu swim that fast," Joshua adds, shaking his head. "The moment Y/n started floating away, he was in the water like a submarine."

The group laughs, their voices blending with the distant music and the gentle lapping of the waves against the port.

As you and Mingyu continue your walk, sharing bites of each other's gelatos and exchanging quiet smiles, you can't help but wonder if he still has feelings for you, too.

8. YOU WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR EX, AGAIN

"Y/n! Drink up!" Your group of friends roars around you while you close your eyes in defeat.

"I didn't understand the game rules" you whine, but across from you, Soonyoung starts to pour you a shot. "Come on, that was a practice round!"

Nonetheless, the filled shot glass is placed in front of you on the wooden table.

It was the last night of the vacation and the group stayed in during the morning to pack their luggage for tomorrow's afternoon flight. Now, it was time for the traditional drinking night.

You take a deep breath, picking up the shot glass, preparing yourself to drink for the nth time tonight.

"Wait," a hand reaches out to grab the shot glass out of your grasp.

"Woah, is Kim Mingyu drinking for Y/n?" Seungcheol yells from the edge of the table. He and Seokmin get up from their seats to clap in excitement.

Without a reply, Mingyu gulps down the shot, finishing off with a big grin. You stare in shock at Mingyu, ignoring the choruses of teasing from your friends.

Mingyu smiles, feeling satisfied. "For her? Anytime."

"Simp," Jeonghan comments beside you, clapping his hands at the unexpected action.

"Okay, time for Joshua’s favorite game, game start!" Chan sings, moving on to another game.

Thankfully, the next game was one you were good at, so this time Jihoon lost.

"Okay, since you lost," Seungkwan points across to the Bluetooth karaoke machine placed in the backyard of the villa. "Sing us a song, please."

Jihoon laughs. "Any requests?" He stands up from his seat and makes his way to grab the microphone.

Seokmin yells from his spot, "Can you sing 'Circles' please?"

Seungkwan nods, although Jihoon is busy turning on the machine and finding the song. "Yes, karaoke break!"

Everyone turns their head to watch Jihoon sing, and soon Seungkwan and Seokmin have joined Jihoon, all singing perfectly despite their drunk states.

"I'm going to go grab a glass of water," you announce to the table, rising to head inside the kitchen.

You have to admit, looking for a glass cup, or any new cup for that matter, is quite a quest, as it is placed in a random cabinet.

You hear a new voice while sliding the backdoor closed; it's Mingyu and Wonwoo singing "To You," and some of your friends recording the duo. You stand still in front of the sliding doors, deciding to quietly admire Mingyu's vocals.

"그대에게 그대에게 전해주고 싶은 이야기 그대에게 그대에게 말하고 싶어 이렇게 더 Oh, 소용돌이치는 바람 속에 영원한 사랑이 있다면 그건 당신이겠죠"

[In a swirling day You've given me a piece of happiness You've placed all of the smiles in the world in my hands So even if I run out of breath on a steep road Even when I lose my path during a cold day We're still holding hands with warmth]

You sober up, feeling as if someone had poured a bucket of ice over your head. The shock on your face isn't because the vocals are incredible while drunk; it's because Mingyu stared at you the entire time while singing.

"Wow, I caught that on video!" Minghao happily shares from the table.

He stares at his phone. "Wow, Mingyu, you're great at singing without the lyrics." He laughs but everyone else is silent, gazing between you and Mingyu.

"Um, I'm going to head to bed. We have a long flight tomorrow." You don't meet Mingyu's eyes and quickly walk by to grab your phone to go to bed.

The others break the awkward moment, complimenting the two before deciding to stop drinking and start a karaoke session instead.

"Who wants to sing with me?" Chan's question is the last thing you hear while you go upstairs.

You let out a breath, closing your eyes when you make it inside your room.

"So, what's your favorite song so far?" Mingyu asks, sitting next to you on the couch.

You were watching Mingyu record in Jihoon's studio for the new album, Attacca, since Mingyu had told you that there were great tracks for this comeback.

Your eyes light up, staring up at your boyfriend. "Definitely, 'To You'. I love the message of the song. It feels like someone singing to their lover."

Mingyu chuckles, staring at you in awe. "I'll always imagine I'm talking to you when I sing my lyrics," he admits before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You smile widely. "I'm your person?"

Mingyu reaches out to hold you. "Yes, and you've placed all of the smiles in the world in my hands."

"Hey," Seungkwan opens your door, walks into your room, and sits on the edge of your bed.

"How do you feel?"

You place your head in your hands. "Seungkwan, it just hurts, you know? I came here and was reminded of my past relationship, but in reality, after the vacation ends, Mingyu and I will go back to being strangers."

Seungkwan frowns. He was internally thankful that the two of you didn't drink that much tonight.

"Would you consider confessing to him again?"

You stare at Seungkwan wide-eyed. "No! I can't. I think it's best if we leave whatever happened here, here. If we were to get back together, we may break up because of the same reason."

You wanted to give Mingyu and your relationship another try but remind yourself that Seventeen will have another comeback after this trip, and the reason you broke up with Mingyu was because he stopped putting in the effort, so you didn't want to go through that again.

"I don't know what to do," you feel overwhelmed, tears welling up in your eyes. Seungkwan grabs a box of napkins from the bathroom counter and walks back to you, sitting closer.

"I just don't want to be hurt again, Seungkwan."

Seungkwan sighs while handing you napkins. "Listen, I really want you to talk to him. But if you don't want to, we can always just go back home tonight."

You take a shaky breath. "Tonight?"

Seungkwan shrugs. "You packed, right? We're both pretty sober, so let's tell Jeonghan and buy some tickets back home. You don't have to see him if you can't face him right now."

You nod slowly. "I think that's what I need. I know I'm running from this, but I really don't know how to act in front of him anymore. I want to get back together so bad, but at the same time I know our relationship won't work out."

Seungkwan understands. "Okay, I'll tell Jeonghan. You book the tickets right now. We can call a cab and go back to the airport."

Seungkwan gives you comforting pats on the back. "Just promise me, in the future, if Mingyu were to ever try and make it work, you will accept it."

You stare up at Seungkwan, laughing while tears roll down your cheeks. "Oh, Seungkwan, I know he won't... He's too busy to make the effort, but it was great to spend time with him again."

Seungkwan shakes his head. "No, promise me."

You nod. "Okay, I promise. Now go tell Jeonghan while I book us tickets."

Seungkwan gives you a supportive squeeze on your shoulder before heading out to find Jeonghan, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you quickly search for flights on your phone.

It was déjà vu.

"Please, Y/n, okay this time Mingyu's there, obviously, but can you please come?" Soonyoung begs with pleading eyes.

His voice is loud enough for nearby tables to stare at, so you shush him to lower his voice.

"I agree," Seungkwan says, assembling rice on lettuce. "You haven't attended our concerts in so long!"

"It's our first concert for the tour after our comeback!" Seokmin adds. "Don't you want to support your best friends?"

You shake your head at their eagerness. "God, this is peer pressure."

"You're coming, and it's final," Seungkwan concludes, waving you off so you agree.

"Fine, one concert." You decide it couldn't hurt.

"But," you raise your finger, "I don't want anyone to know I'm there, especially Mingyu."

Seokmin looks at you confused. "Why Mingyu?"

You didn't want to admit that you couldn't face Mingyu. Since the vacation, your buried feelings had opened up, but you knew everything would return to the way it was after the trip.

It was too much to expect anything to change after a week.

"To be honest, I hoped something would happen for you and Mingyu after the vacation," Soonyoung says. "I haven't seen him be himself, cheerful, until I saw him on the vacation, always smiling when he was near you."

You grow annoyed. "Guys, it's not that simple. We broke up because he was too busy and we both stopped putting in the effort. What changed?"

"He's changed. You know, eight months is enough for someone to change," Soonyoung insists.

Seokmin stares between you and Soonyoung, making sure he's not stepping over any boundaries. "We watched you both after the breakup. But we can assure you Mingyu's changed. Just talk to him once about it, instead of thinking of the 'what ifs'. That's all we ask."

Soonyoung takes your shot glass from your hold, gulping that down, too.

Later, Seokmin and Soonyoung excuse themselves to the bathroom, leaving you and Seungkwan at the table.

Seungkwan turns to you, his voice gentle. "Y/n, you owe me one, remember?"

You nod, curious about what he wants.

"Come to our concert," he says softly. "I know it's hard, but you owe me, and I think it will help."

"Seungkwan, I don't know if I can face Mingyu, not when I know I'm still in love with him," you admit.

"I know, but I also know that if you show up, Mingyu will try to make things right between you two. Just think about it, okay?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating his words. When Soonyoung and Seokmin return to the table, you make your decision.

"Fine, I'll go," you say, looking at them. "But I'm going to support you guys, not for Mingyu."

"Here's the VIP pass, by the way," Soonyoung pulls out a single pass from Seungkwan's bag pocket, sliding it across the table.

"How did you even know I would agree?"

9. YOUR EX IS STILL IN LOVE WITH YOU, TOO

The concert was about to start and you were heading to the VIP seats with Seungcheol because he wasn't performing due to his injury. Seungcheol was walking with you, chatting about the upcoming performance.

Suddenly, Mingyu runs over from behind, yelling your name, a look of urgency on his face.

"Y/n, can we talk for a moment?" he asks, breathless.

Seungcheol nods, understanding the situation. "Go ahead, Y/n. We'll catch up later."

Mingyu takes your hand and leads you to a quieter area down the hallway.

"Y/n, you left the vacation early before I had a chance to talk to you on the last day," he begins, his voice trembling slightly. "I've been thinking a lot lately, and I realized how much I miss you. I miss us.”

Your heart skips a beat as you listen to his words.

"Mingyu, how will we work? You’re still so busy…" you start, remembering the reason the two of you broke up in the past.

"Please, Y/n, I will change, I have, and I will put in more effort into our relationship," he pleads, his eyes searching yours.

You feel a rush of emotions flood over you, memories of your time together flashing through your mind.

"I don't know, Mingyu," you say softly, torn between your heart and your head.

Mingyu takes a step closer to you, his gaze intense. "I understand if you need time to think about it. But just know that I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Before you can respond, Mingyu presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"I have to go," he says reluctantly, pulling away. "The concert is starting soon. But I'll talk to you after, okay?"

You nod, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

Mingyu gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and heading off towards the stage.

As the concert approached its climax, the energy in the arena surged, filling the air with excitement and anticipation.

You stood beside Seungcheol in the VIP section, caught up in the electrifying atmosphere of the event. The pounding bass reverberated through the stadium, matching the rhythm of your racing heart.

But amidst the exhilaration of the concert, your mind drifted back to the hallway encounter with Mingyu. His heartfelt confession lingered in your thoughts, leaving you torn between the past and the present.

"Y/n," Seungcheol suddenly begins, "I wasn’t going to interfere but after seeing two of my close friends hurting, I need to tell you something."

Your eyes stay on him, waiting for his next words.

Taking a deep breath, Seungcheol continues, "After the breakup, I saw Mingyu at his lowest point. He wasn't himself during our comeback, but in Italy, he was different. Happier. And... I was the one who told him that you were coming. He dropped the fashion show, even though it wasn't canceled, and told Jeonghan to book his ticket."

“He did that for me?” You ask, and Seungcheol nods, staring down at his twelve friends on stage.

"Y/n," You suddenly hear from the stage, it is Mingyu's voice. The crowd quiets down, sensing the situation.

"Will you come back to me now?"

The question hangs in the air, suspend between you and Mingyu as the stadium erupts into cheers.

The jumbotron focuses on you and Seungcheol, trying to capture your answer to his question.

At that moment, surrounded by the energy of the crowd and the pulsing rhythm of the music, you knew what your answer was.

With a nod and a resounding "Yes!" that echoed through the arena, you made your decision.

As the notes for 'Aju Nice' fill the air, you feel a sense of happiness wash over you, knowing that you are finally back with Mingyu again.

The crowd erupted into cheers once more, their excitement echoing off the walls of the stadium.

Seungcheol is beside you, a knowing look in his eyes.

"I knew you two would eventually find your way back together," he says with a smile, both of you staring at Mingyu who jumps around with Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and Seokmin on the stage happily.

As you settle into your seat, surrounded by the sounds of the crowd and the anticipation of the performance, you can't help but wonder what would have happened if Mingyu had never gone to Italy. But for now, you're content to enjoy the music and the company of your friends, knowing that you have Mingyu, again.

10. YOU WILL GO BACK TO YOUR EX

new title: ten reasons to avoid go to italy.

© MINGYUSCOFFEE. All rights reserved. This work is original and may not be copied, reposted, or distributed on any platform without explicit written permission.

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