ˎˊ˗ IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SIMPLE HOOKUP ... maybe you really are a whore! When you first started seeing Wen Junhui, you told yourself it was a private ordeal; something to relieve your stress. At least, it was, until he invited his friend, Minghao... who invited his friends. Now you’re caught between thirteen seriously handsome guys!
⌗ paring: seventeen ot13 x fem!reader
↳ content: pure smut. every chapter. horny horny horny boys and lots of threesomes. it's all relatively tame, though. read at your own risk
ᐢ..ᐢ lae's notes ↬ can we get some more ot13 shit guys .. don't make me write it all myself .. anyways, please support by commenting and reblogging! it helps me grow immensely!
⌗ 001 1+1 DEAL ⤷ JUNHUI & MINGHAO
⌗ 002 CAN I BORROW HER? ⤷ SOONYOUNG & JIHOON
⌗ 003 WELL, IF YOU DO IT... ⤷ JOSHUA & HANSOL
⌗ 004 CHANGED MY MIND ⤷ SEUNGCHEOL & JEONGHAN & WONWOO
⌗ 005 EASIEST MONEY OF MY LIFE ⤷ MINGYU & SEOKMIN
⌗ 006 WHAT, WE CAN'T GO? ⤷ SEUNGKWAN & CHAN
desc: you and minghao were homebodies, in every sense of the word. comfortable meditating together in your garden, content sipping complex red wines under the parasol, happy reading your respective books with interlinked pinkies. however, his new subunit has dragged you and all of your friends to a huge party but god, you look a bit too good for minghao to contain himself...
wc: 7.8k..this was supposed to be a drabble
note: happy (belated) v8 release!! this is my celebratory post so pls enjoy and im sorry for the delay! this is the first piece of smut i've ever written lol so pls don't mind if it's not amazing.. this was supposed to be 2k idk what happened lol. tysm miss @binniebean0 for beta-ing once again, ur the best ma lav <333
𝄞: silver jubilee by audrey hobert, v8 by the8 & vernon
Partying was way behind you. Like a distant moment of the past that you revisit once a year and swear to never look back at again. The thumping music and the dazzling lights are not so enticing when you have a gorgeous fiancée who gives such good massages. A brilliant fiancée who buys you books every time he leaves the country — each one picked with perfection, always aligning with your exact interests. An insane fiancée who sees you in your slacks, sweat-ridden after a long and humid day at work and thinks it’s the prime time to make a meal of you on the kitchen table.
Yeah, so homebodies you had become.
Really, who would want to leave the house when the human incarnation of a god, Xu Minghao, your soon-to-be husband, led intense and relaxing meditation sessions for you? In your vast garden, greenery swallowing the senses, the small swish of the coi pond pattering softly to one side, your lean fiancée speaking with ultimate rest dripping off of every word. It was like your own personal heaven!
But alas, work calls — Minghao had been working tirelessly with Vernon for their new subunit. Slipping in the front door early in the morning, cap pulled low as his feet dragged against the polished wooden floors, fatigue radiating off his body when he quietly pulled your body into his and cocooned himself around you.
This was no new routine; you’d been with Minghao for years, through comebacks, daesangs, scandals, you name it, you stood by his side, a solid and hushed rock. However, there was once upon a time when you and he enjoyed indulging in the bustling Seoul nightlife, awake until all hours of the night and dancing carelessly under strobe lights. It was an era you both look back at with soppy nostalgia.
The bass vibrated through the darkened club, the sound of a hyperpop song penetrating your flesh and transforming into sweet endorphins, a buzz of adrenaline and raw energy surging through you. Beside you, your best friends Jun and Mingyu nodded nonchalantly along to the beat — sunglasses securely over their eyes, making them resemble a pair of handsome bodyguards rather than two idols on their night off.
A mix of tequila and soda zipped through your straw as you leaned on the wall between the two, their chatter rapidly adapting to include you. ‘I mean, I never coined them for the clubbing type,’ Jun shrugged, halfway through a conversation with his bandmate, who had his eyes narrowed at his phone in his hand.
The three of you had perched on a balcony, watching the dance floor swarm with bodies, arms flailing to the music, heads bobbing to the beat. Dark purple and white lights flashed, illuminating the floor in brief intervals, revealing people intertwined with one another, others busy looking at their keys and some drunken party-goers grinding with lustful gazes.
‘Well, they’re on their way.’ Mingyu shrugged, pulling your gaze away from your inspection of a particularly messy make-out session in the middle of the crowd – gross.
‘Who is?’ You question, lifting your drink lazily to your lips.
‘Remember Vernon and Minghao?’ Mingyu questioned, slinging his arm around your shoulders, his beer almost spilling onto your heels with his clumsy movement.
‘I know the names.’ You reply, nibbling on your straw and eyeing a broad-shouldered man, leant nonchalantly against the bar.
This was your routine: Jun and Mingyu would drag you to the club. Most of the time, the three of you partied yourselves out together, strolling home in fits of drunken giggles, Mingyu slung between you and Jun like a human piñata — letting his slackened body flop onto your sofa whilst you and Jun top-and-tailed. But occasionally, one of you would spot someone, get busy and be whisked away into the night.
‘They’re on their way.’ Mingyu finishes, and you shrug, preoccupied by the muscled man downstairs — Tall, dark and handsome.
As the music shifted, Jun pulled you eagerly onto the dance floor, ready to rock, twist, point, any drunken dance move that his body could conjure in the moment, a loud laugh escaping your lips when he pokes the person behind him.
The music was something booming, high-pitched vocals over a speedy tempo, making your hips sway with easy finesse, Jun matching you with a cheeky pout on his face. At some point, Mingyu had disappeared into the crowd to collect his bandmates, leaving you and Jun to continue letting the beat pump through your bodies.
Bodies slick with sweat stuck to yours, the alcohol-induced euphoria swimming through your system and rendering you careless, as all you thought about was feeling the music travel through your bones.
Through the crowd, your abnormally tall friend weaselled his way through, two drinks held haphazardly in his hand as he held them above head height, almost spilling the beverages on multiple unassuming party-goers' heads.
Behind him, two men materialised, both of whom you recognised from Instagram posts, music videos and whatever else your two best friends were involved in. The shorter of the two had a snapback perched backwards over his hair, and he sported a shy grin as he greeted you with a polite nod, ‘Vernon.’
Next to him, your gaze hovered, the second man making your breath hold tightly in your throat — He was gorgeous. The sort of gorgeous that is plastered on the front of fashion magazines. The sort that almost made drool slide down your chin.
Minghao, you can only presume, had a pale face, framed by a sleek black mullet, wisps of hair tickling his sleek cheekbones. The enticing dark chocolate eyes were sharp, and it felt as if Minghao’s gaze was swallowing you whole. Lazily, he dragged his eyes down your body, a small smirk on his plump pink lips as he consumed you with his look alone.
‘Minghao.’ He leaned forward with subtle ease, his strong hand ghosting your waist as his hot breath tickled your ear.
That was the night that changed your life.
Messy makeouts in the bathroom corridor, arms desperately pulling each other close, feeling all of your soft skin and lathering in the rosy scent of your perfume. Tugging his fluffy hair closer, dragging him lustfully to bed, arching your back involuntarily as his hot mouth met you.
You and Minghao were like two magnets, snapping together with force as soon as you met. There was no doubt in your mind that he was your person from the moment you set your eyes on him. And he — he was smitten, absolutely enamoured by you; he practically fell to his knees when you stepped out of your front door for the first date.
Now, six years later, you were each other’s forevers. The gorgeous engagement band on your finger confirms that. Minghao hunted far and wide for the ring that felt authentically you and him, searching across countries, visiting jewellery stores for hours at a time, researching different materials and styles.
An unexpected hunt on a work trip to Beijing made him stumble across a delicate twist of silver that was bent into two smooth spirals, a discrete diamond framed by the curving silver work. It was so perfect that Minghao didn’t hesitate — he signed the papers and strolled out of the store with a bashful grin on his face.
Then, on that starry evening when he got down on one knee, you felt your heart explode in your chest. Adoration surging through your body as you looked at your boyfriend’s sincere smile, his warm eyes glazed with anticipation as he bared his heart to you in an engagement box.
As the streetlights strobed softly through the private car's window, your ring glistened against your knee. A symbol of unrequited love that decorated your body every single day.
The vehicle was a buzz of your best friends, Jun squished in the middle, whilst Mingyu took up way too much space next to him, talking animatedly with Alice in the front seat. Both men were a concoction of shirts and cologne, sunglasses perched in their hair. It had been a long time since you’d been to a club, life moving in a gentle motion away from partying, so you were beyond excited to be indulging in one night of drunken fun with your best friends and fiancée.
Minghao was already at the bar the company had hired out, without a doubt networking, talking to devoted fans and bantering with his sub-unit counterpart.
You could already imagine his lean body, glistening in the low lighting, his shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair tickling his cheeks under a nonchalantly placed cap. Ring finger decorated with a shining silver band as he DJ’d. God, the vision practically made your panties wet.
‘What are you daydreaming about?’ Jun nudged at your side, all heads turning to yours as you rapidly snapped out of your drool-inducing vision of your fiancée.
‘Nothing,’ You reply, perhaps a bit too fast, the flustered expression on your features refusing to be wiped off. Trying to faux calm, you absentmindedly brush invisible dust off your dress.
‘You’re disgusting.’ Jun replies with a distinct scrunch to the nose.
‘What?’ You reply, with widened eyes and a sarcastic look of shock. Jun shakes his head at you, the car slowing as it swerves down a side street in Tokyo, vivid neon lights glowing above your heads.
Crowds of people hover by a bar and you can only presume that’s your destination. There was an atmosphere of anticipation, the beckoning call of music reverberating out onto the slim street, and the car halted, people ecstatically staring through the glass.
As soon as the door opened, you smiled and waved with the politeness you’d be forced to adopt the moment the tabloids caught wind of you. Teethy grins, small bows at fans, waves towards the crowd. However, as the audience swarming outside were struck with Jun and Mingyu's presence, you slipped through the entrance, staff easily directing you to the small stage, where the main act was fooling around.
The bar was packed from wall to wall, bodies crammed in as fans excitedly screamed, hollered and shouted at their idols. The air was thick with smoke that clouded heavily in the corners and dampened the lights. A loud and bass-heavy hyperpop track shook the room as it bounced with a tinny crunch out of the speakers and flowed through the atmosphere.
This environment felt like travelling back in time, the thumping of dance music and the scent of strong alcohol dripping nostalgia through you. The hum of bodies pressed into the space brought you back to those long and late nights of the past, dancing sweatily with strangers, not having a care in the world. As you rolled your shoulders, the muscles loosening instinctively, you felt the weight of adulthood dissolve as the atmosphere swallowed you.
The staff member broke the crowd, guiding you through the barricade with a polite nod. The blonde locks wisping in the busy air caught your attention — your fiancée, looking devastatingly gorgeous, was perched in front of a set of decks, headphones slung around his neck as his stare zeroed in on the buttons. Minghao’s hair was hanging carelessly along his shoulders, a slouching cap resting on his head. He had a pair of dark sunglasses shielding his eyes from the hundreds of phone flashes shining at him. As he bobbed his head along to the beat with effortless indifference, you decided his nonchalance was perhaps the most attractive thing on the planet.
There was a cloudy grey tank top hanging loosely off of his toned chest, his tattooed arms revealed to the world as they flexed when he held his hand up in motion. Minghao looked delectable, his body glistening in all the right ways as you watched with your mouth hanging. Even after six years, he still made you speechless daily.
As if your stare burned through him, his head turned straight towards you, his face softening in recognition as he quirked a sweet smile towards you. With a brief lean into Vernon, he stepped down and sauntered over to you, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he inspected you.
With discretion, he slid his arms around your waist, his smile converting into a smirk as he raked his eyes down your scantily clad body — your dress hugged all the right places, revealing a modest amount of cleavage and displaying your long legs for appreciation.
‘My love, you look beautiful.’ Minghao mutters in your ear, his hot breath fanning your soft skin, the surface puckering into an array of goosebumps. Your fiancée’s deep, seductive tone sent shivers down your spine, and you allowed your hands to rest on his shoulder, feeling the cotton beneath your fingertips.
‘Hao, you look-‘ There wasn’t even a word to describe how godly he looked. ‘Fuck, you look so good.’ You let your hand skim his bicep, squeezing the tough muscle lightly as he leaned forward, tilting your jaw to kiss you. His soft, plush lips, which you had the privilege of kissing daily, still sent electricity sparking across your body, the taste of mint gum and Coke infiltrating your mouth with ease. You both knew you could easily be here all night, wrapped up in one another, refusing to falter until you knew exactly how good his mouth tasted.
However, the hoards of cameras and fans watching closely ignited a consciousness that forced Minghao to apprehensively pull away, his lip caught between his teeth.
‘Proud of you, baby.’ You say wholeheartedly, sending him a sincere smile before pecking him lightly and running the pad of your thumb over his cheek.
‘I love you,’ He says back, his eyes practically oozing adoration. ‘Wouldn’t be here without you.’
To this, you smile with unrestrained happiness, letting your hands run lightly down his torso before giving his waist a squeeze and ushering him back to the decks. Throwing a quick wave at Vernon, who insisted on a sweaty congratulatory hug, you joined the rest of your friends who’d made their way to the viewing area.
The crowd was alive, chanting and buzzing at the two boys, who danced and waved happily, both radiating shy nonchalance whilst simultaneously bringing life to the room.
‘Put your drinks up!’ Your fiancée shouted, jumping excitedly with Vernon, his face radiating as joy rumbled through him — and you couldn’t help but appreciate how breathtaking he looked as euphoric glee zoomed through his skin.
Alongside you, Mingyu had arrived with a bottle of tequila, shot glasses lined up with precision. With a huge laugh, Mingyu poured one out, slinging it back before pouring another, then a line, linking his arm with yours to knock it back with the old trick you shared.
The sting of the spirit was dulled by the bittersweet flavour of nostalgia it arose on your tongue. It was a twisted sentiment to your early twenties, those party days, the ones that brought you and your friends together — the ones that brought your husband-to-be together, and it bloomed a subtle warmth in your chest.
Watching the man you cherished, so in his element, moving seamlessly to his own music, smiling wide enough to blind a nation, brought bliss to your heart and you inhaled deeply as if it could pause the moment.
Mingyu and Jun, dancing with drunken silliness next to you, expressions of happiness playing on their features. Roars boomed as Vernon and Minghao stood on the platform the decks sat on, dancing in sync to the songs they’d work tirelessly on.
And if you’re being honest, you don’t really party, you just sit at home, but tonight you were throwing it back to those long euphoric nights, letting your body sway freely and laughing wholeheartedly with your closest friends.
As the night stretched on, the bar darkened, the atmosphere still electric even as a different DJ took to the decks. Minghao had eventually shuffled his way over to you, sliding both hands around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck. The hair on your body stood up at your fiancée’s skinship, the thumping in your heart intensifying with his hot hands as they lightly massaged your skin.
‘Hey sweetheart,’ He said with a dipped voice, leaving a light kiss on the crook of your neck. You turn rapidly to face your hot, sweaty and frankly, very sexy fiancée, his cap pulled low as you join your lips with his; alcohol induced lust daring to poke through.
‘You were amazing up there,’ You breathed, a bashful smile appearing on Minghao’s face as you complimented him. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
There’s a glaze over his eyes that is somewhere between adoration and gratitude, the mixture making his chocolate eyes shine with unapologetic happiness. Instead of replying, he simply pulled you in once again, savouring the sweet taste of the plush lips you possessed.
The whirlwind of friends and colleagues then sweeps him away, people approaching with waves of congratulatory exclamations. You leave him with a tender kiss on the cheek, a reminder of how proud you are, and then disappear off to Alice.
With drunken confidence, the two of you dance, shaking your hair, swaying your hips, letting big hearty laughs tumble out of you. As the songs beat on, Jun and Mingyu materialise at your sides, moving exactly how they did all those years ago — Jun producing the strangest moves he could conjure, making you almost wet yourself in fits of giggles.
As Mingyu twirls you effortlessly, your sweet-faced soon-to-be-husband arrives, sliding in close to you, his body moving like liquid against you. The sensation of his hard chest pressed against your back made tingles shoot down your spine, the familiar scent of his musky beechwood aftershave wafting over you.
‘Back already?’ you say with a turned head, only his light curtains visible as he presses tickling kisses along your neck.
‘Forgot how attractive you are when you dance like this,’ He mumbles, nipping on a spot that elicits rather inappropriate sounds from you. The heat of the bar seemed to have settled on your skin as a heavy dew, your pulse racing at a quickened pace.
‘Hao,’ You exhale with heft, hoping the release would ease the growing heat between your legs. You lean your head into the crook of his shoulder behind you, his lips forced to disconnect with your neck as he grumbles quietly. ‘We’re in public.’
The shy and bashful Minghao that presented himself to the public was long gone — his shameless flirtation and risqué-nature penetrating through his persona. You knew this version of Minghao very well. It was the one shielded from his fans, one reserved specifically for you, the one that devoured you on a balcony the night of your engagement.
And his lusty gaze made the heat pooling between your legs feel more and more bothersome.
‘I can’t help myself,’ He says quietly, ‘you look too good, it’s driving me insane.’ His arms don’t falter from their secure place on your hips, tugging you impossibly closer. It felt like you were younger again, kissing carelessly in the club, letting the music take you both away as you indulged in one another.
‘Hao,’ A shaky breath leaves your lips, ‘We can’t exactly slip off, this is your party,’
With a sigh of frustration, he lands one more nip to the sweet spot on your neck, ‘We’re leaving as soon as it’s socially acceptable.’
It, in fact, was not socially acceptable to leave until three in the morning. In those hours, everyone had gotten impossibly drunker. Beside you, Mingyu, almost asleep, stood up, his speech slurred in that hilariously whiny way that was so reminiscent of dragging his tall frame down the dark Seoul streets.
Minghao had hovered around, often being pulled in every direction by various guests, his gaze hot on your figure as you continued to dance or mingle. You could feel eyes burn into your body when you bent over to pick up a spilt beverage, and he used it as a convenient excuse to practically run to your side — skilfully placing himself to conceal your exposed thighs.
Like a perfect scapegoat, Mingyu almost toppled over into both of you. The lanky man’s absent gaze was practically begging for bed, and who were you both to make him stay any longer?
‘We should take him back to the hotel.’ You say with a pout, bidding goodbye to Jun with a tight hug. Minghao had rapidly slipped off to also spout all variations of valedictions to the remaining guests.
Three slightly long, awkward hugs, around ten polite bows and countless ‘goodbyes’ later, you and Minghao had Mingyu slung over your shoulders, his body borderline slack between you as you both dragged him into the car.
As much as you could mentally thank Mingyu for always drinking himself into the perfect escape plan, you didn’t want to praise him for the impending spine problems his years of drunken slackness will inevitably cause you.
There were many ways you’d rather be leaving the bar. Through a back door, hands tangled in Minghao’s mullet, tugging when his lips hit that sensitive spot on your neck. Or in a private car, just the two of you, your hand eagerly stroking torturously slowly up his thigh, skimming his crotch with routine obliviousness.
But alas, Mingyu collapsed onto the seat with a thud, babbling incoherently as he lay his head on your lap. Minghao just tutted as he climbed into the passenger seat, turning to see you display a shrug, raising your hands in defeat.
Even through Mingyu's meaningless utterances, the sexual tension was rife — Minghao stayed glued to his phone, his hat low as his teeth nibbled on his lip in frustration. He was vying for a distraction, and his Instagram feed had never been so boring.
You, on the other hand, leaned on your wrist as you watched the busy, late-night traffic blur past the window. Neon lights and hordes of bodies meshed together in the dark night, the lowlight skimming your fiancées strong jaw, which was very obviously clenched, his plump lips glowing with each passing streetlight.
God, you were ready to devour him.
The minutes skidded by almost painfully, Tokyo dragging through your vision with snail-like slowness. Mingyu was fast asleep on your lap, muttering to himself drunkenly — If your head wasn’t spinning with visions of the gorgeous man in the front seat, you might find this heartwarming and so reminiscent of times passed. Mingyu follows his usual routine, getting too drunk and having to be hauled home by you or whichever oblivious friend was roped in to take half of his weight. Stumbling into the hotel elevator with someone hot on his trail, apologising profusely to whichever member of the public he may have embarrassed himself in front of. Then, collapsing onto the closest comfiest surface — the hotel bed, and passing out without a word.
It made you giggle at how his habits had never changed and how yours remained, too. Popping two painkillers onto his nightstand, filling up a cup with water. All the usual things that came as second nature. Minghao watched you closely with adoration. There wasn’t a day that he didn’t fall deeper in love with you, and today he really felt it. Even through the chaos, the stress, the pressure, your presence was ever-grounding; even if it made his brain scatter when he saw you.
Your fiancée lingered close behind you as you clicked the door shut slowly, the dim hallway abandoned at this heinous time. The warm glow made your body shine, the expanse of your neck exposed when you swept your hair to the side, your long legs practically glistening for Minghao to ogle. He traced the curve of your waist in your tight dress, biting his lip at the swell of your ass as you twisted to look at him.
‘Let me get out of the door first,’ You joke, recognising the lust dripping off of his gaze. Without hesitation, his tongue slipped out of his mouth, licking his lips as if you were his favourite meal.
You were.
The tether within Minghao had snapped, finally alone after hours of pent-up frustration, and he had you pushed up against the wall with lightning-quick agility. One strong arm wrapped tightly around your waist to pull his hips flush against yours, the other cradling your face with softness, the rough pad of his thumb savouring the feeling of your skin below it.
Without hesitation, he joined his lips to yours with desperation, his body aching to taste the alcohol on you — and now he could taste it, he felt utterly intoxicated. The plush of your lips was so familiar, but it never failed to make him feel like every hair on his body was standing on end.
‘Hao,’ You breathed out in a quiet whine, your hands lacing through Minghao’s soft hair with an instinctive tug as he let his lips begin their assault on your neck. He knew exactly how to make you fawn, his teeth grazing your sensitive spots as he left discrete marks along your exposed shoulder.
To be honest, he didn’t care that people were sleeping behind plywood walls; you were too delectable to treat anyone else with regard. A sick part of him wanted them to hear how good he made you feel, he wanted them to know that his fiancée would only moan like this for him for the rest of her life.
Your nails clawed harshly at his biceps as the feeling of his lips made heat pool pathetically between your legs, his lusted-over gaze burning through you when he pulled back to examine his art.
This was Minghao’s own personal Picasso. The sight of you, face flushed and screwn in an expression of blissful pleasure, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin as your head leaned on the dark wall behind you, the expanse of your neck exposed and actively developing little bruises. The dress, which was, quite frankly, a method of torture designed specifically to make Minghao suffer, was bunching up and revealing your hot skin to his eyes.
‘Oh baby,’ Minghao sighs, letting his arms pull your body into his. You took advantage of his moment of weakness and began to pepper kisses up the column of his throat, trailing along his jaw and nibbling his ear gently, smirking as the skin under your fingertips rose in goosebumps. Sometimes you forgot how easily you affected him, the hotness of your breath eliciting his body to react rapidly, his eyes fluttering shut tightly as he groaned loudly and unapologetically.
The hallway had dissolved into a desire-driven blur around you both, the almost pornographic moans tumbling out of your fiancées mouth floating you away on a cloud of pure sexual need.
‘Baby, I need you.’ He manages to gasp out, your hand now feeling his toned stomach with daringly slow accuracy whilst your mouth continues to run circles around his brain.
‘Can’t have me in a corridor, Hao.’ You state between sloppy kisses, not parting from his skin for longer than a few seconds.
He turned his head and emitted a sound resembling a hiss as your mouth was forced to leave his body, ‘I’ll have you right here, sweetheart, don’t test me.’
The tone was icy, the dominance in his voice almost making your knees give way. His hand was resting with a strong presence on the back of your neck, his drooped eyelids penetrating you with so much intensity it was overwhelming.
Not willing to try your luck with Minghao — Knowing he’d bunch your dress up and tear your underwear off for anyone to see, you take his wrist in your hand, dragging him to the elevator. There’s a cocky smirk that’s landed permanently on his features, his eyes watching the way your ass giggled as you jogged lightly to the end of the hallway, pulling him along.
The doors slid shut, but before they could ring out a quiet ding! he has you pinned against the mirrored wall, his body heavy against your back.
It’s embarrassing the way you arch into him, your breath heavy as it already begins to cloud the mirror in small hues. Behind you, he has one of your arms secured to your back, intertwining his fingers with yours in an intimate gesture. Yet, his eyes are darkened as they scan your face in the mirror, the need rife in your hooded gaze as you meet his hungry look.
Your entire body is squashed against the mirror, making your cleavage bulge out of your skimpy dress, and Minghao can’t help but stare at it as he reattaches his mouth to your neck eagerly. The hardness of his throbbing cock is tough against your ass, and you gasp sharply when he smoothly thrusts himself against you.
‘Look at you,’ He coos with fake sympathy dripping off every word, his mouth ruthlessly working at your exposed skin. ‘Such a greedy girl, rubbing yourself against me in public.’
Your fiancées taunts make you impossibly wetter, and you attempt to stifle a moan that was escaping you. Minghao pauses sharply, squinting at your already fucked out reflection. ‘It’s too late to be quiet now, baby, you’ve already let the whole floor know how good my lips make you feel.’
It’s embarrassing. Almost humiliating, how he has you completely at his mercy before you’ve even swiped your room key — in the elevator where anyone could see you, where any innocent passerby could watch as your fiancée ruts his stiff cock into you, when any of his members could walk in to your face flushed and already fucked out before Minghao has even touched you.
As the elevator begins to halt, he releases his grip on you, taking your hand sweetly and pulling you into his side. It’s mind-boggling how versatile Minghao is, the doors sliding open with torturous pace as a fellow hotel guest nods politely to your fiancée, entering the space that held the ghost of said man, practically dry-humping you against the wall.
Minghao’s grip around you was tight, his hand absentmindedly tugging your dress to cover your exposed thighs as he smiled awkwardly and bowed to the stranger, keeping your head tucked safely into the crook of his neck.
You knew this was killing Minghao. Even the redness on your face did not compare to the restraint he was exercising with each passing moment.
The elevator slowed once again, and Minghao couldn’t pull you out of there faster, his cock painfully hard in his trousers; he was already facing your shared room by the time the door to the elevator slid closed.
Beep! The hotel door clicks open, and everything becomes a whirlwind. Minghao has you pressed against it with wicked ease, pulling your lips to meet his in a sloppy, needy kiss that radiates heat from him. Your hands are sliding beneath his shirt, letting your nails scratch along the toned muscles as his hand smooths over your ass, grabbing at it harshly as he attempts to pull you closer.
Minghao’s lips are working on the sweet spot below your collarbone, tasting the skin with unfaltering intensity. You let your hands roam, tangling them in his hair, scratching at his back, squeezing at his waist — you feel every inch of him like you’re learning where everything is.
With a rough tug, your dress is pooled around your waist, your braless chest bouncing out with the release of the cloth binding it, and Minghao lets out a long groan, his eyes closing as he lets his head slack. He is devilishly handsome, his jaw defined in the low light as it flexes at the sight of you.
‘Sweetheart,’ He speaks whilst he inspects every inch of you closely, bringing his hot mouth to your chest once again, his tongue drawing patterns against your skin as he brings one of his hands to toy with your nipple, his long fingers working automatically to pinch and caress you.
Loud throaty moans tumble out of you as he fails to neglect your other nipple, letting his mouth trail hot kisses around it before sucking with perfected ease. If Minghao’s arm wasn’t securely around you, the feeling would’ve made you collapse to the floor — he knew your body like the back of his hand, nipping and sucking on every single sensitive spot, touching every place that set your body on fire. Except where you needed him most.
‘Hao,’ You moan, and he just grunts against you, not faltering for a second from his heavy assault on your chest, the sight of him devouring you almost enough to have you cumming. ‘Baby, I need-‘
He pulls off of your nipple with a dirty pop, his pent-up gaze watching as the pleasure drops off your face with the lack of contact. It was filthy, the arousal that pumped through him when he watched you become absolutely desperate for him.
‘Need what baby?’ He questions, his movements so slow that they almost cease, making your eyebrows furrow and your lip jut out in a pout. Pathetically, you let your slender hand reach for the waistband of his trousers, but he’s like a hawk, pinning both of your wrists above your head.
It’s humiliating how turned on you are — completely under his control willingly. His frame is fully clothed, whilst yours is a mess, dress in a rushed bunch around your waist, panties dripping.
‘What do you need?’ He questions, gaze burning into you as he drags his eyes down your curves. ‘Use your words, baby.’
‘Need you,’ You whine, wiggling to attempt to reach for his waistband again, but his grip is steady, keeping you absolutely merciless.
‘Need what part of me?’ He blinks, big innocent eyes staring at yours like he wasn’t already ruining you without even a touch.
Your face is utterly flushed as embarrassment and arousal mix into a vicious vision of want, the outline of his hard cock practically pounces at you. Minghao uses this moment to let one of his big hands ghost over your panties, his touch so light that you buck your hips instantly, desperate for him to give your clit any stimulation.
A taunting laugh escapes his lips before his ruthless mouth is back on your neck, nipping and sucking as your head falls back in pleasure. The sudden attention forces a moan to escape you, and he stops, the brief contact ripped away so savagely that your brain is fuzzy with frustration.
‘I asked you a question, sweetheart.’ He repeats, letting your restrained hands fall as he tugs you lightly towards the bed, pausing as you near it. Without a word, he slips your bundled dress off of your frame carefully, discarding it as you kiss him, pulling his neck to yours before he even has a chance to appreciate your almost naked body.
‘Need your cock baby,’ You mumble against his lips, and he groans at your needy answer, his pants feeling uncomfortably tight around him, and you let your nails scrape his lower abdomen in that way that has his body in shivers.
Minghao is so enticed by you, the way your lips mingle with his effortlessly, the ways in which you know his body, the ways that can almost make him cum in his pants with just a feather-light touch.
You’ve slyly twisted, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed, your lips not parting as you masterfully manoeuvre yourself between his solid thighs.
Minghao thinks this might be a mirage. A vision of ecstasy in a moment of desperation. You, his beautiful fiancée, on your knees in front of him, your lips swollen from his assault on them, tiny marks along your neck from his greediness to mark you. There’s a distinct thirst in your eyes as your hands fumble with his belt, and Minghao thinks it might be the most attractive thing he’s ever seen.
Like an expert, his belt is unbuckled, and his trousers are tugged down, your light touch carrying the weight of hours of teasing. As you let his cock spring free, he hisses, the scene in front of him so dirty he could cum right now.
Your fiancé's biceps are flexed as he holds himself up, leaning back and watching you with squinted eyes. His cock is so pretty, you sometimes forget, and it shocks you all over again – It’s pale and long, not too girthy but beautifully slender. The sight of it alone makes your pussy clench around nothing, the memories of it kissing your cervix infiltrating your mind.
Drool pools at the corner of your lips, and without further ado, you stroke your fingertips lightly along his cock, letting your thumb drag over the tip, a string of tangled grunts tumbling out of him as you spread the leaking pre-cum down his shaft.
After a few eager strokes, you bring your mouth to him, kitten-licking him with precision, his teeth gritted as he lets out a hiss, your warm mouth sending spikes of pleasure up his body. His cock was more than a mouthful, the salty pre-cum lathering your tongue as you gradually make your way down him, gagging as your nose grazes his stomach.
Your engagement band glints as you grip his thigh, beginning to piston your head, throaty moans slipping out of his mouth as you take him so well.
‘Fuck baby,’ He groans, and an involuntary sound of pleasure leaves you, your nipples perked in arousal as you speed up. Minghao runs his fingers through your soft hair delicately, the sensation prickling your skin as he gathers your locks and guides your motions with desperation. ‘You look so pretty.’
It was so filthy, the squelch of your mouth working against him and his heavy, breathy moans at free flow as the feeling of your tongue around him takes over. Minghao is seeing stars, the sight of you alone pushing him closer, yet alone the stimulation on his cock.
‘Baby, baby.’ He pants, his breathing climbing rapidly as his release nears, and he pulls your head away from him carefully, refusing to come from just your mouth – he needed to be inside you, watching your eyes roll back as he bottoms out. You pout, looking up at him with red cheeks, your lips glistening with his pre-cum and your spit. ‘I want to come inside you.’
His words make you ache, your pussy practically begging for something – anything at all.
Minghao lifts your jaw up to his, rejoining your lips. The salty taste of himself on you infiltrates his mouth as he pulls you onto his lap, his strong arms reaching to squeeze at the expanse of your ass cheeks as his cock is trapped between you both, nudging at your clit in selfish intervals.
‘Take this off.’ You whisper, hands already pulling at his shirt, and he whips it off, sparing only a second before his tongue is intertwined with yours again, your fingertips feeling his smooth skin and tracing his abs.
You push his body down, crawling over him to grind your clothed entrance against his hard cock. Pretty moans falling out of you as your clit gets the stimulation it was craving, forcing your eyes to squeeze shut as your body is submerged in pleasure. Your fiancée is breathless below you, your hair dangling down into his face as your expression presents as angelic, all-consumed by pleasure. Minghao always thought you were the most beautiful woman on earth, but god, you glowed in a different way like this.
Breathing shallowly, you continued dragging yourself against his hardness, your eyes locking with Minghaos as he tilts his head back into the mattress, his gaze lusty yet determined. Those strong arms working their way down to your wetness as you pause your movements, desperate for your fiancée to touch you.
‘Oh my poor baby, you’re soaked,’ He said, using his middle finger to trace circles over you, the panties ruined and your thighs almost dripping. You couldn't even muster a response, his light teasing pressing all of the right spots, and you drop your head to the crook of his neck as he continues his lazy circles. ‘Do you want me to stop?’
You knew it was a baited question. Minghao wanted to see you squirm.
‘No, please.’ You beg, your mouth hot against his sensitive neck as you speak into it, biting at the skin gently.
‘Look at me.’ He says sternly. Pressing one finger into your dripping hole, pushing your panties inside you. It was ludicrous and practically a sin to be so hopelessly at his expense, but you couldn't think past how good it felt.
‘Look at me.’ He repeats with a grit in his teeth, halting his movements to get your full attention. With a rapid snap of the neck up, your faces are inches apart, his hot breath mingling with yours as he scans your gorgeous face, your cheeks reddened, your lips jutted.
You were so beautiful.
‘Good girl.’ Before you can even moan, his mouth is back on yours hungrily, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he guides your soaked clit to rub against his painfully hard cock. ‘Stay just like this, baby.’ Then, in a subtle movement, he slides out from underneath you and discards the rest of his clothing, kneeling behind you.
The heat of his body radiated as he stroked himself whilst inspecting you, wetness dripping down your spread legs, pussy gleaming with arousal. It was one of his favourite sights, and he can’t help himself as he runs his hands up and down your plush thighs, squeezing your ass and letting the cool of his metal engagement band send shivers up your spine.
‘Hao, please.’ With desperation, you push your hips backwards, his cock brushing you, and you let out a hum of satisfaction.
Wordlessly, Minghao begins to guide his cock into your dripping hole, the sensation of you so tight and warm around him making a heavy groan fall from his throat. Similarly, tears begin to cloud your vision as sweet relief washes over you, the feeling of him dragging against your walls combined with his throaty sounds making you dig your nails into the soft white covers.
Slowly, he bullies his way into you, his member hitting every single spot that has you clawing desperately at anything you can. As he bottoms out with a hiss, a loud moan leaves your lips, the overwhelming feeling of his tip mingling with your cervix, making you clench around him.
It felt insane how well his body slotted into yours. Your pussy was moulded to fit his cock, your walls hugging it in every single place. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling of being conjoined with one another, ecstasy blasting through you both as you thrive in the overwhelming feeling of one another.
Unable to restrain himself, Minghao begins to fuck into you with a quickened pace, the room becoming a soundtrack of filthy sounds; his hips slapping your thighs, the squelch of your soaked hole, the mixture of grunts and moans the two of you emit.
Minghao’s eyes stare as your skin jiggles with each thrust, his fingers gripping your hips so tight that bruises will blossom beneath them tomorrow. His breathing is heavy as he relishes the euphoric feeling of you bent over, receiving him so willingly and squeezing him impossibly tighter.
The wicked thrusting has you seeing stars, the sensations overwhelming, and you start hurtling towards your release, moans running at free flow out of you as your fiancée only quickens his pace.
‘H-Hao,’ You moan, gripping the mattress below you as if it could receive some of the immense pleasure rippling through you.
‘Yes, baby?’ He pants out, letting one hand rub up your side in a soothing manner, his hips and arms doing completely contrasting things to your body.
‘I’m close.’ You sputter out, lathered in his deep strokes that were practically splitting you in half.
‘Mhm,’ He hums, only speeding up impossibly faster as he wraps a strong arm around your waist to pull you into him, not letting his cock disconnect from the comfort of your slick.
Your head is slack on Minghao’s shoulder as he holds your back tightly to his chest, letting his hand ghost over your neck. He nips at your ear as he continues to piston into you ruthlessly, your release within an arm's reach.
‘You’re doing so well, baby,’ Minghao whispers in your ear, tightening his grip on your neck as he chases your high. ‘Such a good girl, my good girl.’
That was all it took before you were tightening around him, high-pitched moans tumbling out of you. The coil within you snaps, sending your vision white, heat flushing out of you as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly.
Minghao keeps fucking you ruthlessly, holding the weight of your body as he chases his own release, small whines escaping your mouth as he overstimulates you. The grip of his hands gets tighter and tighter as he grunts in your ear, muttering incoherently as all he thinks about is how good you feel.
‘Fuck ____.’ He gasps, his breath taken from him as he spurts inside you, his warm milky release coating your insides, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he slows.
The room is swamped in the sound of heavy breathing, Minghao pulling out and helping you lie down gently, kissing your shoulders, all the way down your spine and then returning to kiss the crown of your head.
‘You’re so beautiful.’ He speaks with delicate sincerity, your sleepy gaze watching his naked figure disappear off to the bathroom.
‘I love you.’ You mumble, grinning shyly and nuzzling your face into the pillow. Your fiancée reappears with a wet towel, wiping you cautiously as he appreciates your gorgeous figure.
‘I love you more, my love.’ He replies, Your vision became as your body relaxed into the plush mattress. With a light but solid grip, you tug him onto the bed, his musky scent washing over you once again, and you sigh happily.
‘Just cuddle me, baby.’ You murmur, tiredness taking over you as he pulls you into his chest, placing the covers over the two of you. Peppering kisses on your head, he watches you gently doze off, and his heart feels like it could burst with how much he adores you.
Even submerged in sleep, your hand finds his, engagement rings clicking quietly together, and Minghao closes his eyes in contentment, letting sleep lull him away with you.
content: 18+, pwp, explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), swallowing, praise, established relationship.
the steam fills the bathroom, hot water cascading down your skin as you drop to your knees in front of minghao. his back presses against the cool tiles, those sharp eyes half-lidded with lust while droplets trace the lines of his toned chest and abs.
"you look so pretty like this," he murmurs, voice low and husky, fingers threading gently through your wet hair. you wrap your hand around his length first, stroking slowly, feeling him twitch and harden under your touch. the water makes everything slick, easier, hotter.
leaning in, you press soft kisses along his shaft before taking him into your mouth. he lets out a quiet groan, hips jerking just a little as your tongue swirls around the tip. you suck him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, the shower spray hitting your face and mixing with the taste of him. his free hand braces on the wall, knuckles whitening while the other guides you, not pushing too hard, just enough to show how much he needs this.
"fuck... just like that," he breathes, head tilting back, throat exposed. you bob your head faster, taking him as far as you can, the sounds wet and obscene over the running water. his thighs tense, muscles flexing under your palms, and you know he's close when his moans get breathier, more desperate.
you glance up at him through the steam, eyes locked, and that's what sends him over — minghao cumming down your throat with a shuddering gasp, fingers tightening in your hair. you swallow every drop, milking him gently until he's spent and trembling.
he pulls you up afterward, kissing you deep and messy under the spray, whispering how perfect you are against your lips. the shower keeps running, but neither of you moves to turn it off yet.
syn. when you receive a photo of your boyfriend from his best friend.
𝒾. MA CHÉRIE──ot13 x gn!reader, suggestive (?), pet name (mingyu), not shipping joshua and jeonghan, crack & fluff smau ⟢ cœur
美麗 ⦂ this week, has been the CRAZIEST WEEK so far. i cried seeing edits of howoo, watched demon slayer (100/10) and cried every three mins, take a shot by hoshi, members sending howoo to military, OT13 FRICKING CONCERT AHHHHHH!!!
summary: everyone knows about the red string of fate: a delicate thread tied at the base of the pinky finger, something that connects you with your soulmate. your one perfect person. your other half. so why do you have thirteen strings?
warnings: alternate universe - soulmates, idol!au, this is still set in svtverse, angst and fluff, smut in later chapters, swearing, group dynamics, reader is slightly insecure and shy, mentions of loneliness, trust and abandonment issues, some jealousy and being possessive
Pairing : Best Friend!Maknae Line x Reader Genres : Friends to ???, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Mild Angst Warnings : Mild Stalking/Unwanted Following, Cursing, Food Mention Word Count : 6.8K
ᯓ★ Synopsis : You separate from the friend group into the crowd with nothing but a casual promise of donuts, but when he notices you missing for way too long, panic rises fast. The moment he hears you say saying: “Hi, Babe!!” at him—your best friend—with a strange man following closely behind you, all he can think is to protect you first then ask questions later.
In the late afternoon, you had been walking with the boys—your friends, your chaotic bunch of thirteen—at the busy pedestrian festival showered with music, street food, booths lining either side of the road. You and the boys had been weaving between the food stalls and snapping photos for the memories. The air felt warm with the dusk casting orange hues across the sky, and laughter echoing in the background.
You had wandered off for just a second to chase after a pop-up donut truck you had spotted. Just for a moment. You briefly mentioned it to the group, so they were aware. It was just for a moment. A dumb decision, maybe, but the boys had been walking slow, and you were sure that you could find them again after. They are quite the loud bunch.
But except now, you’re alone.
The crowd has thickened.
Thus, currently you stood still for a moment, a paper bag of mini donuts in hand, scanning left and right. No familiar faces. No familiar laughter. No shouts of: “Y/N-yah, where’d you go?!” Their phone buzzes with a group message—someone had sent a meme. You reply with a quick: “Coming back rn lol,” but the reception is... well, in simple terms, shitty.
That’s when it happens.
A voice behind you.
Close.
A bit too close.
“Hey, you lost or something?”
You flinch—slightly—but smile politely as you turn. Your first instinct is to assume it’s nothing.
The man is maybe mid-thirties, dressed casually, with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s something about his posture… too relaxed, like he’s been watching you longer than just now. You don’t want to assume the worst possible situation, but something about this man stood before you.. doesn’t feel right.
You shift your weight, trying to angle away without being obvious. Maybe, it’s because you’ve been hanging out with the boys over and over who have been nothing but gentlemen with a sprinkle of chaos in-between. But perhaps that’s why you don’t feel comfortable with this man..?
It seems as though he’s just trying to help.
Maybe you’re just overthinking things..
“You okay there?” he asks again, stepping into your space a little too confidently. “You look like you could use some company.”
Nevermind.
Your fingers curl tighter around the paper bag. Shit, leaving the group for these donuts wasn’t the best idea—should’ve taken at least one of them with you. You try to keep your voice light as you muster up a reply.
“No, I’m good. I’m meeting someone.”
“Really?” His gaze dips briefly—too briefly—to the donut bag that you have clenched in your hold, then back to your eyes. “Didn’t see you with anyone.”
Fuck.
Your smile drops slightly. That tone…
Not friendly.
Not curious.
Just challenging.
Testing.
You take a step back. He matches it forward.
Ah, shit.
“You sure? I’m just saying—pretty one like you, out here all alone? Dangerous world.”
The tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. It felt uncomfortable, it felt invasive, it felt suffocating.
“How about you come with me?”
That’s when your stomach flips. The wrong kind of fear starts to bloom—slow, creeping, sour. You glances past him—people everywhere, but no familiar faces. No tall frame of Mingyu towering over the crowd, no bright blonde hair of Seungkwan bouncing above heads, no quiet presence of Wonwoo anchoring you. Just strangers. Everyone busy with their own moments.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You fake a laugh, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, scanning again. Then suddenly, you see it. You see something in the distance—someone familiar. At least, you hope. You hope to everything that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. You don’t try to doubt it for a second before you start speed walking.
The guy follows.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out, sweetheart. C’mon, you’re being a little rude now, don’t you think?”
Nope.
Nope, no thank you. This isn’t just creepy. This is wrong. Your heart is racing faster now, breath hitching—and still, you don’t want to cause a scene. Doesn’t want to draw attention. Doesn’t want to be that person.
And then—you see him. One of the boys. One of your boys. Just a few feet ahead. His back turned.
Relief punches through your chest like a gasp of air after being underwater. Thank goodness, your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You don’t think, don’t plan. You only had one thing on your mind:
Help.
You just walk faster, almost running now, weaving through people.
The creepy guy keeps following, still muttering something—something about you being stuck-up, something about just being nice.
And then you finally reach your best friend. Your lifeline. Your other half. You quickly rush up, and in the most sugar-coated voice you can muster:
“Hi, babe!!”
You say like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you’ve been dating for years. Like nothing is wrong.
But your whole body is tense. Your smile is trembling.
Now it’s up to him.
⭑.ᐟ Xu Minghao (The8)
The late afternoon sun shed light on the street market, coating everything in this orange. Around him, the other SEVENTEEN members went from vendor to vendor, laughing, tossing snacks into one another’s baskets, teasing Soonyoung about dropping his tteokbokki stick.
Minghao stood a little apart, quietly observing with his arms loosely folded as he leaned against a post near a wall of kimbap samples. His sunglasses rested low on his nose, not really doing anything for the sun—but they made it easier to watch without being obvious.
Chan and Seungkwan were mock-arguing about yakult. Jeonghan was bargaining dramatically with a kid for a Pokémon plush. Joshua had somehow wandered into a pottery stall and was chatting with the elderly owner like they were long-lost friends.
Somewhere nearby, someone was playing mellow jazz on a portable speaker. The air smelled like fried dough and incense.
It was calm. Comfortable.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, casually, to no one in particular.
Vernon glanced up from where he was comparing drinks. “Said they were going to buy donuts. They mentioned it to me like ten minutes ago. They went that way.”
Minghao paused. His gaze flicked toward the direction Vernon pointed—a crosswalk, a few fruit stalls, a crowd he couldn’t quite see through. Minghao’s gaze flickered subtly toward the donut stand across the street.
Nothing.
Ten minutes.
For donuts?
Ten minutes was long.
He didn’t say anything out loud. Just slipped his phone out, checked for any messages. None.
That… strange tension began to coil in his stomach. The kind that said something isn’t right.
He didn’t say much else.
Instead, he stepped closer to Jun and murmured, just loud enough to be heard, “I’m gonna check on Y/N.”
Jun didn’t question it. “Okay. Want me to come?”
Minghao shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll be back soon.”
Then he turned, hands in pockets, and started walking.
Calm, deliberate steps.
It wasn’t panic—Minghao didn’t panic—but he moved with the same quiet urgency as a ripple beneath still water.
He moved through the crowd like a shadow with smooth, fluid movements, not drawing attention. His steps were steady, even-paced. He scanned around as he walked. His eyes darting between vendors, watching body language, looking for a familiar outline in the crowd.
He passed an alleyway.
Nothing.
Passed a small stand selling glass phone charms.
Not there.
A group of girls paused to take selfies under a cherry blossom mural.
Still no sign.
Something wasn’t sitting right.
Minghao stopped at the corner of the crosswalk, letting the stream of people pass him. His jaw clenched—just slightly.
He retraced your likely path in his mind: you probably cut through the east row of stalls, went toward the donut cart with the purple umbrella. It had the best prices and you liked the owner.
He started walking again, faster this time.
Then—
There.
He heard your voice.
Louder than usual. Too loud.
“Hi, babe!!”
His entire body stilled for half a second.
‘Babe’?
That wasn’t your usual vocabulary—not even as a joke.
His eyes snapped to the sound and locked in immediately.
You were there, walking towards him stiffly behind you, was a man in a tan jacket. You had one hand curled around the donut bag, the other hanging awkwardly by your side as you walked. Your body was tense, like you didn’t know whether to bolt or walk awkwardly to him.
He knew exactly what you were doing.
Distress signal.
Your eyes found his over the heads of the crowd.
That’s all he needed.
Minghao moved.
He didn’t break into a run.
He didn’t need to.
The seconds it took to reach you were deceptively slow—as if the rest of the world blurred away and all he could hear was the distant clinking of wind chimes and the rustling flap of a street banner above them.
“There you are,” Minghao said smoothly, stepping in, as if you two were just meeting up.
His voice was low.
He didn’t look at you at first.
He looked at the man.
Then, deliberately, he placed one hand on your back. His palm rested lightly, just enough to be seen. It wasn’t possessive.
Just unmistakably clear.
“Did you need something?” he asked the man in a tone so calm, it was almost disarming.
The man blinked.
His posture shifted—confused, maybe thrown off by the fact that Minghao wasn’t raising his voice, wasn’t glaring. Just staring. With a sharp, elegant kind of precision that felt impossible to look away from.
The man stiffened, surprised by Minghao’s sudden presence. “I was just talking to them, man. They didn’t say anything.”
“And now, I’m talking to you,” Minghao said, head tilting just slightly. “So, do you need anything?”
There was no raised voice. No overthreat. Just precision.
Calm, but cutting.
Like a scalpel.
The man faltered. His brave front cracked—just a small amount, but enough.
“Or were you just leaving?” Minghao added, softer.
The man’s eyes darted. He stammered out something incoherent about ‘just chatting’ and ‘didn’t mean anything’ and started backing up without another word.
Minghao didn’t even nod.
He just turned fully to you once the man was out of sight, his hand still resting lightly on your back.
“Are you alright?”
You nodded, exhaling finally. Your shoulders dropped a little.
“…He just kept talking. And I couldn’t get him to stop without causing a scene.”
He met your eyes.
“You’re allowed to cause scenes,” he said simply.
You smiled weakly, a bit dazed.
“I was getting donuts. Then he followed me for, like, half the street.”
Minghao didn’t speak immediately.
Instead, he opened his phone again. Tapped around. Held it out.
“Here. Share your location with me.”
You looked down. Then back up.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said plainly. “Don’t argue.”
You hesitated. But you tapped your phone to his and accepted.
A long silence followed. Not awkward. Just… thoughtful.
Then, softly, you whispered:
“…You didn’t even blink when I called you ‘babe.’”
Minghao glanced sideways at you, a faint quirk at the corner of his mouth.
“I blinked,” he replied. “Internally.”
That made you laugh. Quiet. Warm.
“If it helps you feel safe,” he added, his voice dipping low, “You can call me whatever you want.”
You looked at him—really looked—and for the first time that day, some of the tension left your face.
“…Even Mr. Teatime?” you teased, voice light.
Minghao gave you a blank look. “Don’t push it.”
But then he took the donut bag from your hand and gestured for you to walk back.
He didn’t take his hand off your back for the entire walk.
⭑.ᐟ Kim Mingyu
The air is warm and full of music with some indie band plays offbeat covers on a small wooden stage, the scent of grilled meat, roasted chestnuts, and fried dough swirling through the crowd. SEVENTEEN was scattered, all half-yelling over one another, bickering in three directions about whether to go find the fortune teller booth or stick to the food stalls.
“I’m serious, I saw a place with tarot cards—” Seungkwan insists.
“I saw a place with hot dogs,” Soonyoung counters, already walking away.
“Both of you shut up and look at my duck hat!” Chan cackles, spinning around with the new purchase perched proudly on his head.
Mingyu laughed, wiping powdered sugar off the tip of his nose where Vernon just flicked a beignet crumb at him. “Dino, that thing makes you look like a traffic cone.”
“Better than Jeonghan-hyung’s cat ears,” Dino fires back.
“I make everything look good,” Jeonghan says, without even looking up from his mirror compact.
It’s only maybe ten minutes later, someone shouts about finding takoyaki, someone else is negotiating bubble tea toppings—that Mingyu’s eyes sweep over the group and land on a very distinct you-shaped absence.
He frowns.
“Wait… where’s Y/N?”
“Didn’t they go for donuts?” Woozi says, finally looking up.
“Yeah, but that was—” Mingyu checks the time. That was ten minutes ago. His chest tugs, not quite alarm, but a ripple of unease. “I’ll go check.”
“Want me to—?” Dokyeom starts, but Mingyu waves him off gently.
“I got it. Probably just stuck in line or something. I’ll bring them back.”
He ducks out of the mess of boys, weaving between crowds and neon stands, scanning for a familiar silhouette with a bag of donuts. He passes children waving light-up wands, a guy juggling with too many glowsticks, a stand selling fried squid, and—
Nothing.
No sign of Y/N.
The festival noise fades to a muted thrum in his ears, tension building low and slow in his spine.
He tried not to panic. Tried to tell himself you were fine. You were smart. Careful. You had a good head on your shoulders—
But it didn’t matter. The idea of you alone in this crowd made something ancient in him stir. A quiet, animalistic need to find.
He walked fast, head on a swivel. Checked every donut cart. Searched every corner of the side street. He even paused at a churro stand, peeking through the glass.
Where would you go?
He checks the edges of the crowd now, closer to the street vendor fringe, where foot traffic thins and shadows lengthen. His shoulders are squared, steps long.
He paused for a moment near a booth selling mini pancakes, trying to slow his heartbeat, when he heard it—
“Hi, babe!!”
His heart skipped. Whipped toward the sound.
Your voice. Too cheerful. Too forced.
And then he saw you.
He saw you walking fast, one hand holding a paper bag, the other tightening around your arm. Your eyes lock on his, and relief floods them—but there’s something else under the surface.
Behind you, a man is trailing just a step too close.
Older.
Taller.
Someone who wasn’t just a stranger passing by.
Mingyu doesn’t hesitate, moving without even thinking.
He walks straight to you, expression softening only when he reaches your side. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs gently, the endearment slipping out like a warm blanket, hand rising to cup the back of your head as he tucks you into his chest.
The second you were close enough, you were practically collapsed into his chest. The donut bag squished between you two.
You exhale—quietly—but he feels it against him.
That’s all he needs.
His hand cradled the back of your head, pressing you protectively to his front as he turned—blocking the man completely from your view.
Then, his eyes shift past you.
The man pauses, clearly realizing Mingyu’s size now that they’re face to face.
“Do you need something?” Mingyu asks, low and sharp, the sound reverberating from somewhere deep in his chest.
He towers over him, not doing anything over the top—no fists raised, no snarling. Just sheer presence. The kind of danger wrapped in politeness that makes your instincts scream even when the man’s smiling.
The guy stammers something unintelligible and bolts, disappearing back into the noise of the festival.
Mingyu doesn’t move until he’s sure he’s gone. Then he pulls back slightly to look at you. His hands checking you over without asking. Not panicked—just thorough. Gentle.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” he murmurs, brushing some stray hair behind your ear. “Did he touch you? Say anything weird?”
“No,” you whisper, a little shaky. “No… I just—he followed me after I bought these and wouldn’t stop talking. I got scared.”
“Shit,” he says softly, brows knitting together. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come sooner.”
You shake your head. “You came right when I needed.”
Mingyu closed his eyes for a moment. One long breath in. Then out.
“I’ll find him,” he muttered, every instinct screaming for him to go back.
But you gently tugged his hoodie.
“You don’t have to.”
He looked at you again. Your fingers trembling around the donut bag. The soft furrow in your brow.
His anger dulled into something more protective. He tightened his hold around you again, resting his chin gently atop your head.
“I’m never letting you go anywhere alone again,” he says, then adds quickly, “Except the bathroom. But even then, I’ll be standing outside the door.”
You laugh, a little muffled in his shirt, and that’s when he knows you’re okay.
He takes the donuts from you, holds it in one hand, and threads your fingers together with the other.
“Let’s go back,” he says gently, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Before Seungkwan eats all the takoyaki out of spite.”
“…He absolutely would,” you mumble.
And hand in hand, hearts steadied, you head back toward the chaos that always waits with open arms. Mingyu doesn’t let go the entire way.
⭑.ᐟ Lee Seokmin (Dokyeom)
The night market festival was loud—exactly the kind of chaos Seventeen thrived in.
A mix of sizzling street food, traditional drum performances, LED balloon vendors, and Jeonghan trying to barter for a fake sword while Seungkwan and Chan screamed at him not to. Mingyu had already spilled sauce on three shirts—none of which were his, and Vernon was currently very earnestly discussing the philosophy of cotton candy with a vendor who looked five seconds away from closing the stall just to escape him.
Amid it all, Seokmin stood in the middle of the group, grinning like a kid on a sugar high, pink bunny ears blinking on top of his head—a prize you had won from a game and immediately plopped onto him.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
Then chaos struck: Joshua accidentally knocked over a shaved ice, knocking into Jihoon, who spilled his drink onto Seungkwan white pants. Seungkwan shrieked like he’d been stabbed, which drew an audience, which meant Soonyoung started playing it up like it was a live drama—
And Seokmin?
He blinked through it all, smiling, until a sudden pang ran through his chest.
Something was off.
He glanced around, eyes scanning the crowd, but no familiar figure was nowhere in sight.
You had briefly told him that you had wanted to get donuts, while the group was walking past the stand. Truthfully, he didn’t think much of it as you always found your way back to them. He had even offered to come along with you, but you declined.
“Hyung,” he murmured to Seungcheol, who was now scolding Jeonghan for accepting a stranger’s bet on how long he could balance on a stall’s edge.
“Yeah?” Seungcheol turned.
“Can you hold my drink?”
“You need to use the restroom?”
“I’m gonna go find Y/N.”
“They’re not back yet?” Seungcheol furrowed his eyebrows, blinking. “You want me to come?”
“Nah, just hold the fort.” Seokmin offered his usual sunshine smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I’ll be quick.”
And with that, he weaved into the crowd.
The street was packed—laughter, music, kids running around with glowing cotton candy, couples taking blurry selfies under the lantern lights. He passed skewers, candied fruit, masks, fans, even a live painting booth.
But no you.
He jogged down the row of stalls, peeking between crowds and spinning pinwheels and fog from steamed buns.
“…Y/N?” Seokmin called softly, trying not to draw attention. “Y/N, where’d you go…?”
He started moving faster, eyes flicking over each corner. He felt his heartbeat quicken with every turn, yet no sign of you anywhere.
Then, in the blur of bodies and colors—
“Hi, babe!!”
The voice came out of nowhere—so loud, so sudden, so yours.
Before he could even react, something collided into his chest.
He stumbled back half a step.
“Y/N—?!”
You wrapped your arms around him in a tight, panicked hug, face burying into his neck like you’d done it a thousand times before. Your fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt with no hesitation, and the movement was so fast, so natural, it caught him completely off guard.
A bag hit the ground by your feet.
Donuts.
You had dropped it.
His arms went around you on instinct, “Woah, woah, hey—Y/N?” But his eyes were darting past you, confused.
That’s when he saw him.
A man, walking briskly behind you, clearly not a vendor, clearly not a lost tourist. His eyes were sharp, face smug, the kind of smirk that made Seokmin’s stomach flip. He looked annoyed that you had stopped. Annoyed that you’d run. Like you had interrupted something he thought he deserved.
And you had come running the moment you saw him.
“Ah,” Dokyeom said under his breath. The warmth dropped from his voice instantly. His grip on you tightened.
His entire body shifted.
There was a beat—something cold and sharp in his chest—before Dokyeom pulled you slightly behind him, still holding you close but stepping in front now.
You didn’t need to explain.
Not yet.
He could tell.
The man’s pace slowed. He took a step forward like he was going to say something.
Still smiling, Seokmin turned to face the guy.
“You need something, hyung?” His voice was light. Friendly. But his hand didn’t move from your back, and there was something in his eyes that had gone cold.
The man blinked. Seokmin smile didn’t fade—if anything, it grew just a bit wider.
The guy took a step back.
“Did you follow them here?” Seokmin asked, tone light—but his face didn’t match. His shoulders were squared now, jaw tight, every inch of him alert.
“I—”
“—You shouldn’t be following people,” Seokmin cut in, voice like steel now. “Even if you think they’re alone. And this one? They’re not alone, they never are.”
The man’s confidence wavered. Something in Seokmin’s eyes must’ve warned him not to push it.
The man scowled faintly but didn’t dare say anything. He muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the crowd.
Only then did Seokmin finally look back at you—and the smile dropped.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, gently cupping the side of your head. “Did he touch you?”
You shook your head.
“Hey,” he said gently, softening. “You okay?”
You didn’t say anything—just nodded, barely.
Seokmin crouched a little to see your face, his hands cupping your cheeks.
“You ran straight at me,” he said, trying to lighten the air again. “Didn’t even hesitate.”
You blinked, eyes wet. “I saw you and I—.. I didn’t think. I just… I wanted to be next to you. Just wanted to be safe..”
A warm breath left his lips. His smile was small, but full of something fierce and fond and aching.
“You were perfect,” he murmured. “You did everything right.”
Your arms slowly wrapped around his waist again, grounding yourself.
Then you looked down.
“My donuts…”
Dokyeom looked too—the bag had splattered onto the concrete, ruined.
“Ah, no…! Your favorite ones?”
You gave a tiny, pitiful nod.
“Well then,” he said, straightening up, slipping his arm around your shoulders, “Guess I’m taking you back and making Coups-hyung buy you a hundred more.”
“..He’ll say no.”
“Yeah, but I’ll guilt him with the full story.”
You laughed faintly, sniffling.
Seokmin squeezed you close and whispered into your hair, “Next time, I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumbled.
“You’re never a bother,” he said immediately. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all I care about.”
Your head tilted up.
He smiled, soft and wide and true.
“C’mon. Let’s go tell the others you just heroically survived a villain arc.”
⭑.ᐟ Boo Seungkwan
The festival was loud—just the way Seungkwan expected it.
Neon fish lights dangled above, the smell of fried squid and honey tteok filled the air, and someone was butchering a K-pop song at the karaoke booth so horrendously he genuinely considered calling emergency services.
“I swear, if they hit one more flat note, I’m throwing myself into the goldfish tank,” he said. “And I’m dragging you two with me.”
“You’ve been dragging us for the past hour,” Jihoon muttered.
He’d been mid-rant about it to Vernon and Jihoon, dramatic hands flying in all directions, when he realized something.
“…Wait. Where’s Y/N?”
Vernon blinked. “They went to get donuts, right?”
“That was like—what, twenty minutes ago?” Jihoon frowned, checking the time.
Seungkwan’s eyes darted down the street, scanning past the vendors and the families and couples crowding the walkway. “Okay, they’re a slow eater. Maybe they stopped to people to watch. Or talk to a pigeon. Or dramatically pretend they’re in a music video. All very Y/N things.”
But even he didn’t believe his own words.
He was already stepping back. Already handing his drink to Vernon with a rushed, “Okay. Hold this, I’m going to look.”
“Should we come with—?” Woozi asked.
“No, no—just stay here in case they come back!” Seungkwan called over his shoulder.
He adjusted his hoodie, turned, and made his way into the crowd.
It didn’t take long.
Just a few turns down the stalls.
He was moving fast, eyes scanning, mind racing—because you were Y/N. You weren’t reckless. You wouldn’t just vanish for fun. He knew you.
Something about this didn’t sit right.
Then he heard it.
“Hi, babe!!”
What.
Before he could even process the voice, something collided into him at full speed.
“—Wha—?!”
Arms wrapped around his waist. A familiar weight pressed into his chest. His entire body rocked back half a step.
He looked down—and there you were.
Y/N.
Face hidden. Arms tight. Clutching him like he was an anchor and you were drowning. Then you immediately went behind him, as if you were trying to minimize your size and disappear right then and there.
“Y/N—?” he stammered. “Wha—You—okay?! You dropped your—”
He blinked down at the ground.
Scattered.
A crushed bag.
Icing on the pavement.
“…Donuts,” he whispered solemnly.
But you weren’t moving.
You were holding onto him like your life depended on it.
And in that exact moment, Seungkwan felt it—not the drama, not the chaos—but the shift.
Something wasn’t right.
His back stiffened. His arm pulled in front of you, protective, steady. And he glanced up—
And saw him.
The man.
About ten feet away. Standing in the middle of the path, like he had been following you. Like he wasn’t expecting you to bolt. His expression was twisted—part smug, part annoyed, like he thought he had a right to catch up to you. Watching. The kind of watching that made Seungkwan’s blood boil. Didn’t like how calm he looked.
Like he thought you belonged to him.
Oh, hell no.
“Is that why you ran up to me like we’re in a drama?” Seungkwan whispered low over his shoulder, still extending an arm in front of you.
You nodded against him, a tremble in your breath.
He exhaled sharply, his brain catching fire with protectiveness and rage.
And then, in the most dangerously sweet tone he could muster, he looked straight at the man and said, “Hi, sir. Can I help you?”
The man blinked, like he wasn’t expecting to be addressed.
“Oh, sorry,” Seungkwan continued, his tone biting underneath the syrup. “Are you lost? Because if you take one more step toward my partner, you’re gonna have problems.”
The man scoffed. “They weren’t even—”
“—Looking for you? Exactly. They weren’t.” Seungkwan’s voice dropped. “So unless you want to spend tonight explaining yourself to security, I suggest you back off.”
Either way, Seungkwan was still going to report this man.
The man hesitated.
One more step.
Just one more, and Seungkwan was about to make national news for violence by hanbok.
But the man turned. Grumbling something under his breath. Then disappeared into the crowd.
Seungkwan didn’t move until he was completely gone.
Only then did he shift his attention back down to you, his tone melting back into warmth.
“Hey. Hey, it’s alright now,” he murmured. “He’s gone.”
You didn’t say anything. Your grip had loosened slightly, but your face was still buried in his back.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently. “Did he touch you? Did he say anything to you?”
You shook your head, voice barely audible. “He was following. Talking a little. I ignored him. But then he wouldn’t leave.”
Seungkwan inhaled slowly through his nose.
“Good job,” he said softly. “Running to me like that? You were so smart. You okay? You feel safe now?”
You finally nodded.
“Hey,” Seungkwan reassured, lightening the mood, “You did good. Really good. Finding me like that? That’s some main character shit. Smart one.”
A small puff of breath left your lips—something close to a laugh, but tired.
“Wanna let go now?” he asked lightly, looking over his shoulder at you, holding the back of his shirt.
You looked up at him.
Then quietly shook your head.
His heart broke a little in his chest.
“..Do you wanna try hand-holding instead of clutching the back of my shirt?”
He felt your nod against his back.
“Okay,” he murmured, tingling your hands with his. “We’ll walk like this. I like the hand-holding. Makes me look even hotter.”
He glanced at you to see your reaction, expecting to see your eye-roll at his comment, but your eyes were drifted someplace else. He followed your gaze.
Then looked down at the tragedy on the floor.
“My donuts,” you whispered.
Seungkwan blinked. “Oh… those were the good ones too, weren’t they? Your favorite ones?”
You gave a little sniff. “I was gonna share them with you...”
“Y/N,” he said solemnly, “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
A tiny giggle escaped you. The kind that made his chest ache.
“Come on,” he said, gently brushing your hair back. “Let’s get you some water. Then I’m dragging Mingyu to buy you a mountain of new donuts.”
“Mingyu?”
“I’m not spending my money after all that trauma. You kidding?”
You laughed again, and this time it was real.
As he guided you gently through the crowd, his arm firmly around you, Seungkwan looked down once more and said:
“And next time, ‘babe’? I’m not letting you out of my sight. I will teleport to you if you aren’t by my side.”
“You don’t know how to teleport.”
“For you, I would learn.”
⭑.ᐟ Hansol Vernon Chwe
The sky was painted in hues of orange and lavender as the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting the summer festival in a warm glow. Laughter and music rang through the streets, kids darted between booths with skewers of fish cakes and candy in hand, and the scent of sizzling tteokbokki and fried squid filled the air.
SEVENTEEN was—naturally—causing a scene.
“Seungkwan, don’t throw the ring like a frisbee—!”
“It’s called technique, Minghao!”
“I’m just saying it’s suspicious that Shua-hyung won two giant plushies and I haven’t even gotten a single ring on a bottle,” Soonyoung whined, holding up his completely empty basket.
Joshua calmly balanced a ridiculous pink dolphin under one arm and adjusted his sunglasses. “God gives his toughest battles to his weakest soldiers.”
“YAH—!”
Vernon stood off to the side, sipping from a tall paper cup of iced plum tea, the condensation dampening his fingers. His cap was low over his eyes, but he watched with a quiet smile as chaos bloomed all around him. Chan was trying to teach Seokmin how to moonwalk and Jeonghan was attempting to steal corn dogs off everyone’s plates without paying for a single one.
It was only when Vernon checked his phone and realized over fifteen minutes had passed that his brows furrowed.
You should’ve been back.
He looked around—no Y/N in sight. Just Soonyoung aggressively bargaining with Joshua, and Seungcheol trying to stop so much chaos that was actively going on.
“Hey,” Vernon said, nudging Wonwoo, who was mid-bite of a sweet pancake. “I’m gonna go find Y/N. They said they were getting donuts.”
Wonwoo gave a slight nod. “Want me to come?”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll text if it gets weird.”
And then Vernon slipped into the crowd.
He wandered through rows of street vendors and hanging lanterns, scanning every direction—passing booths selling everything from yakgwa to phone charms. At first, it was casual. You probably just got stuck in a long line. Maybe you stopped to pet a dog. Or maybe you—
Then he heard it.
“Hi, babe!!”
His head snapped up.
You were approaching fast, your pace somewhere between a casual walk and a beeline sprint. Your arms were full—a bag swinging with a box of donuts inside—but your voice was louder than usual, almost performative.
And your eyes—your eyes flicked up to meet his, and Vernon saw it instantly.
Fear.
Behind you?
Was a man.
Following you.
Without hesitating, Vernon moved.
He closed the distance in seconds, shrugging off his jacket as he reached you, draping it over your shoulders in one smooth motion. Then, with practiced calm, he reached up, pulled his baseball cap from his own head, and fit it gently over yours, tucking it low.
“Head down,” he murmured to you.
You obeyed instantly.
You let out a breath—not a word—and stepped behind him.
He angled himself between you and the man following you. No raised voice. No theatrics. Just silence.
The man in his seemingly late thirties, older, taller, despite the dimming light had slowed his steps.
Vernon stared him down. “You need something?”
His voice was low. Not threatening. Just flat.
The man glanced at Vernon, at you tucked behind him in a cap too big for your head, and something in his expression twitched.
“No, man. I—thought they were someone else.”
Vernon didn’t blink. “They’re not.”
The man opened his mouth, then closed it. And walked away.
Only after the stranger disappeared into the crowd did Vernon turn to see at you. Your hands were fisted in his jacket, your face still half-hidden beneath the cap he’d given you. You looked… small. He crouched down a bit to meet your eye under the cap.
He gently touched your arm. “Gone now.”
You nodded, but didn’t say anything.
He let out a slow breath.
“You okay?”
“…I think so.”
He glanced at you again. The way you were gripping the inside of his jacket, holding it shut like armor.
“You want to go find the others?”
You hesitated.
Then you shook your head.
“…Then we won’t,” he said. “Let’s just stay here for a second.”
You blinked at him.
He reached up and readjusted the cap on your head, tilting the brim a little lower to shield you even more.
“Did he touch you?” He asked, voice soft now, barely above the noise of the crowd.
You shook your head. Your fingers were trembling, so he carefully took the donut bag from your hands.
“They’re still warm,” he said, glancing inside. “You didn’t even drop them. Look at that.”
“I almost did,” you whispered.
“But you didn’t,” he said simply.
And you smiled—small, tired, but real—beneath the borrowed brim of his cap.
When they returned to the group, the rest of SEVENTEEN took one look at Vernon’s jacket on your shoulders, the hat on your head, and the quiet closeness between you—and no one said a thing.
Well.
Except Soonyoung.
He squinted. “…Did you two get married while we were arguing about what to eat?”
Seungkwan high-kicked Soonyoung.
Vernon didn’t answer. You just handed Joshua a donut and leaned into Vernon’s side, safe.
⭑.ᐟ Lee Chan (Dino)
The festival was alive and buzzing with color, lanterns swaying above them like fireflies caught in motion. Music thumped from a nearby dance stage, and the smell of grilled meat, popcorn, and sugar filled the humid summer air. Lights blinked, laughter rang out, and a group of thirteen young men moved through the chaos like a disorganized parade float.
Naturally, SEVENTEEN had split into factions:
Jeonghan and Seungkwan were whispering about sabotaging the other members’ orders and Woozi laughing at their plans. Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua were locked in a bitter ‘guess the flavor’ game over mystery drinks—which honestly isn’t going well in Joshua’s favor as the other two force him to swallow and Seokmin was clapping as he laughed, clearly out of breath.
Mingyu was a filming a TikTok with Wonwoo being the cameraman. Minghao and Jun were filming footage for a behind-the-scenes vlog that was probably 40% Soonyoung yelling in the background.
Speaking of Soonyoung—
Chan turned just in time to see Soonyoung nearly fall into a fountain. He could only shake his head—these were his useless hyungs. He glanced beside him, where Y/N had just been—only to see empty air.
Before he knew it—he was pulled into the chaos of SEVENTEEN.
And by the time he remembered the donut mission, ten… no, fifteen minutes had passed. Maybe more.
He glanced around.
Still no Y/N.
“Hyung,” Chan said, jogging over to Seungkwan, who was currently in a heated debate about whether or not it was possible to eat three hot dogs at once. “I’m gonna go find Y/N. They said they were getting donuts like twenty minutes ago.”
“They’re probably talking to a cat,” Seungkwan muttered. “You know how they are. Cats. Flowers. Weird balloons. A rock shaped like a heart.”
Chan was already leaving.
Chan ducked between a group of toddlers swinging glowsticks and a cluster of girls giggling over matching hanboks. He turned, scanning the crowd again.
Still no sign of you.
“Y/N!” he called, but it got swallowed instantly by the music. He tried your phone for the third time. Straight to voicemail.
He bit his lip, hard.
Every stall blurred past—his eyes flicked from face to face, searching. A man blocking the view to the pastry table. A woman in the same shoes—no, not you. A flash of the same color clothing—not you either.
Dino’s pulse quickened.
He picked up pace.
Maybe he was overreacting. But there was a tightness in his chest, growing with every step. It was too easy for people to disappear in a crowd this size. Too easy to brush something off as nothing, until it wasn’t.
And then he heard it.
“Hi, babe!!”
His body reacted before his mind did.
Your voice in a bright, high-pitched, trying too hard.
He turned sharply.
And there you were.
Walking quickly in his direction, donuts in hand, and just behind you—
A man.
Older. Lean. Shadowed eyes and an energy that made the hairs on the back of Dino’s neck stand up.
He met your gaze for a split second and saw it all:
The flicker of unease.
The silent plea.
The trust that he would do something.
And he did.
Dino stepped forward without a word and met you halfway. He reached for you—gently, but firmly—wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in against his side, snug and protective.
He didn’t even look at you.
His eyes stayed locked on the man as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head—as if it was a normal occurrence between the two of you.
Calm.
Deliberate.
You sighed. Just a little. The tiniest sound of relief.
The man slowed.
Dino tilted his head.
“Can I help you, hyung?”
The man raised his hands as if in surrender. “Nah, man. Just got turned around.”
Dino didn’t blink. “Then you can turn around and keep walking.”
It wasn’t threatening. He didn’t raise his voice or square up. But something in Dino’s face—his stillness, the way he held you like something sacred, not to be touched—made the man look away.
He disappeared into the crowd.
Only then did Dino pull back slightly to look at you. “Are you okay?”
You nodded against him.
“Did he follow you long?”
“A few blocks,” you admitted. “I thought I lost him at the tteokbokki stand.”
“You did good, calling out.”
“I didn’t even think about it. I just saw you and panicked.”
“I’m glad you did,” he murmured. Then he grinned, soft and crooked. “You got the donuts, though.”
“They didn’t squish,” you said proudly, holding them up.
He took the bag from you and peeked inside, seeing more than one—there were at least thirteen more in there. “What are these ones..?”
“…For you and the rest of the boys.”
He smiled wider. “Then I’m definitely not letting you out of my sight again. Who else will bring us our favorites?”
You laughed, shaky but real. You leaned into his side a little more. “So what now?”
“Now,” Dino said, adjusting his arm around your shoulders like it belonged there, “We go back to the others.”
in which he tried to kiss you, only for you to use your hand to cover his lips. how would he react?
featuring : seventeen ot13 ! (separately)
cw : gn!reader, fluff, kissing, suggestive & angst if you squint, grammar mistakes are to be expected as english is not my first language, they're all silly, some are longer than others😀
a/n : i desperately need more ot13 reacts
s.coups: after hanging out for quite some time with his friends, all he wanted to do was to go home and rest comfortably on his bed with you. it wasn't like he hated hanging out, he was just too tired. so, the moment you opened the door for him, he immediately latched onto you—pushing the door using his leg as he tried to kiss you.
that was until your hand suddenly came up to cover his lips, making him froze in place. what? why did you even do that? he furrowed his brows, lips pouting before he pulled your wrist away—pulling you closer against him as he finally kissed you.
jeonghan: the atmosphere was warm, you were spending time with each other and enjoying each other's presence on the couch. in fact, he enjoyed spending quality time with you so much that he couldn't help but to lean closer to kiss you—well, not until he felt the cold surface of your palm..
he'd raise his brows at the audacity, then he would just pull away from you, leaving you on the couch. fine. two can play at that game. he won't even pull your wrist away, much less pout at you for doing that. he'd just ignore you until you beg him for a kiss.
joshua: in the midst of sharing sincere, loving words with each other, joshua couldn't help but to stare at your lips to the point he subconsciously leaned in closer to kiss you—only for you to stop him with your hand. he'd pull away, hands still on your shoulders as he stared at you wide-eyed (you know what expression i'm talking about, lol).
the audacity, he thought. he ended up just leaving a kiss on your knuckles. what? you want one on the lips? sorry, but he's never giving you one—smiling to himself as you whined.
junhui: he thought you were just so pretty—sitting in front of the vanity as you fixed your hair—getting ready for your date tonight. he approached you closer from behind, hands on your shoulders as he leaned down to kiss you. that is, before you stopped him with your hand. he immediately crooked his brows.
excuse me? why would you stop him like that? jun didn't know why, but he immediately apologized awkwardly as he tried to think of whatever he did wrong for you to do that. you only laughed before finally giving him the kiss he wanted.
hoshi: well, good luck with this man. waking up with hoshi always consisted of him leaning closer to you, whispering sweet words like how pretty you look today (despite just waking up a few minutes ago), and how much he wished he could look at your face every second of the day. then, he'd close the gap with a kiss against your lips. this time, however, you covered his lips with your hand.
he's shocked, offended, and gasping dramatically as he pulled away. he immediately hits you with barrages of questions—do you not love him anymore? have you found someone else? was he that bad at kissing you? does his breath smell right now?!
he was asking so many questions that you'd have to shut him up with a kiss, which just made him all giggly. now you'd have to endure him until he's kissing you senseless.
wonwoo: he spends his time playing games at home while you usually lounge on the bed, watching him play. but this time, you decided to surprise him by giving him his favorite meal you cooked yourself, placing it carefully beside his keyboard. he broke into a smile in the middle of fighting the enemy, before making his character go into a secluded corner so he could go AFK and kiss you as a form of gratitude. but then you placed your hand on his lips—catching him off guard.
why did you even do that? his lips would turn into a small frown before he pulls you in by your waist, making you almost stumble into his lap. he won't even say anything—he'd just stare at you with that same, frowning look before you finally gave in out of guilt. is this what people call guilt-tripping?
woozi: really, he's in his element the moment he sat down on that swivel chair—fingers immediately set on the mouse as he checked the tracks he had been working on for the past few days. he hummed to the tune of music playing in the background before his lips quirked up slightly into a smile at the sight of you entering the studio. it's not new for you to approach him during work—asking him what he was working on as you circled your arms around his neck, listening to him talking about his songs.
he'd push his chair back just slightly, tilting his head back to kiss you. but then you placed a hand on his lips, to which he raised a brow at that. why did you even do that? he won't stop asking why until you gave him a reason. he'd just sigh, asking you what was the point of that. yet he couldn't help but to feel a little disappointed.
you laughed at the change in tone before hugging him tighter and leaning down to kiss him. suddenly, he dodged your kiss—giving you a taste of your own medicine. not so funny now, huh?
dokyeom: poor guy. after coming home from an exhausting but fun trip with you, all he wanted was to lay down on your bed while keeping you close—not caring about the messy state of your unpacked suitcases. he pulled you in closer once he felt your fingers gently threading through his hair, tilting his head up so he would be able to land a soft kiss to your lips. that is until you covered his lips with your hand—earning a surprised hum from him.
frankly speaking, he felt a little disappointed by the gesture. so, instead of being stubborn and leaning in for a kiss, he decided to lower his head with a small smile. you frowned, finally lifting up his head so you would be able to pepper his face with kisses. you would never do this prank again.
mingyu: it's almost embarrassing how quickly his smile turned into a pout the moment your hand landed on his lips. it's unfair, he thought. he had to endure practicing extra today, only to come home being denied his kiss? what is this, hell? he would rather go back to practice again if you keep doing that.
you only laughed at his dramatic reaction, finally giving him a soft kiss before pulling away with an apology. he didn't respond much—opting to pull you into another kiss. to make up for the teasing earlier, he said.
minghao: for some reason, minghao woke up early in the morning to go for a morning jog with you. you questioned what the occasion was, but he said that he just felt like it, and that it would be healthy for the body anyway. after an hour of jogging, you finally returned home all sweaty and tired. instead of immediately washing up, however, you decided to lay down on the couch for a few minutes to cool down. it's better to shower when your body has cooled down anyway, he said.
though, minghao couldn't stop staring at you as you rambled on about what you saw at the jog earlier—like the cats on the sidewalk, that one cafe you've been wanting to visit, and.. wait, what did you talk about? because minghao couldn't resist kissing you.
you stopped him midway, putting your hand on his lips. he raised his brows before rolling his eyes, finally standing up from the couch to shower. he didn't care that you whined for him to come back—he's never kissing you again.
seungkwan: the moment you walked through the door with a suspiciously wide smile on your face, was the moment seungkwan realized you probably had something planned. he tensed up—gripping the mic tighter than intended as he stared at your mischievous expression. why were you even trying to do something sinister while he was doing karaoke in his free time?! after an unnecessarily long silence, he decided it would be best to just ignore you. it turns out that you weren't even planning on doing anything—only sitting down on the couch to admire him from behind.
once he finished his much needed karaoke session after so much stress, he sat with you on the couch, suddenly leaning in for a kiss as a way to show how much he missed you. but then, suddenly, you placed your hand on his lips, which caught him off guard. his eyes went wide, brows furrowed, and he looked like he immediately wanted to explode into a series of whys dramatically—before suddenly laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.
he ended up prying your hand away, leaning in closer to give the once denied kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
vernon: it was never easy for you to pull a prank on him. it wasn't like he'd immediately notice what you were trying to do, it was more so that he wouldn't react much—so the efforts would be done in vain. however, after scrolling through your phone for what felt like an hour, you found the perfect prank for him.
as he walked through your shared bedroom with his phone in hand—his eyes immediately set on you before he laid down next to you, one hand wrapping around your waist loosely while the other on his phone. you thought of many ways to make him want to kiss you, and you decided that you'd just be the one to lean in first. he noticed your face inching closer to him, so he turned his head sideways, trying to give you a soft kiss.
only for you to pull away slightly while covering his lips. you blinked a few times, trying to gauge his reaction. but the more you stared at him, the more he blinked back at you, confused as to what you were doing. well, there are many other ways to prank him anyway.
dino: midnight rides with him were always so fun. it was a way for the two of you to unwind, going out without coming home drained, and just spending time with each other in general. he'd sing and drive on the driver's seat, while you'd sit on the passenger's seat, staring at the rearview mirror while fixing your look. he couldn't help but to stare at how effortlessly pretty you were—and since the traffic lights were showing red, he decided to pull you in and give you a kiss.
well, he tried, at least. it was until he felt your palm against his lips that he opened his eyes—wide in disbelief. he'd cover his mouth, gasping dramatically as if he just experienced the top ten worst things on earth, and this is number one on the list. you giggled at his reaction, finally pulling him back in by his collar to kiss him on his lips. by the time he pulled away, the cars behind him were already honking.
naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use (with or without permission), do not recommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.
