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The extremely wealthy man you're newly dating thinks you deserve nothing but the best for your birthday. You struggle to accept that.
WC: 4.8k
TAGS: established (new) relationship, pwp
CW: fem!reader, mingyu being really rich, reader being really not, i think that's it lol
SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected piv, first time together, bondage, blindfolding, creampie, oral both receiving, face fucking
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DEAR @gyuswhore!!! em&em, you truly deserve the world. thank you for putting so much life and light into everything you do and everyone you encounter. i hope this little piece of mingyu makes the day feel a little more special. I LOVE YOU FOREVER! and of course, a huge thank you to @sailorsoons and @starlightkyeom for mobilizing the em lovers army! you are so obviously very loved, em&em hehe. and to everyone else who isn't tumblr user gyuswhore... go wish her a happy (belated) birthday rn. or else. 🫵🏼 (not edited don't look at me bye)
You lean against the railing and watch as Mingyu swims toward the boarding ladder of his yacht, the thick ropes of muscle in his back glistening in the dying sunlight and flexing with each pull of the water. He takes his time, a soft smile on his lips as he enjoys his last moments in the sea. You left him down there half an hour ago in favor of the sun deck, where you've been anxiously trying to figure out how much your birthday is costing him.
There’s the staff he has to pay to man the boat. The endless food and drinks said staff kept offering you earlier as you laid out in the sun, insisting you were fine. The white gold Bulgari necklace he presented you with upon boarding (and insisted you continue to wear in the water despite your fear of losing it because he can “just get you another one”). The yacht itself.
You aren't by any means poor, but you are so far out of this tax bracket, you can't even tell if estimating that all of this cost millions of dollars is a wild exaggeration or a cute guess that would make the man you're dating giggle. It makes your stomach twist.
Mingyu disappears behind the boat as he finally reaches the boarding ladder and you sigh, pushing yourself away from the railing and plopping back down on one of the lounge chairs miserably. You only started dating two months ago, and you knew he was considerably rich, but this is the first seriously extravagant display of his wealth you're experiencing. It's making you queasy.
You grew up knowing that on the rare times your family was at a restaurant, you weren't allowed to order a drink aside from water and that your meal would come from the appetizer section of the menu. “We have that at home” or “I can make that myself” were mantras of your mother's. The trash bag full of your older cousin's hand-me-downs was your version of the mall. Your friends all balked at the idea that you didn't have an allowance, a fact that kept you excluded from several social events as a teenager.
But you do incredibly well for yourself now. You graduated from school debt-free thanks to your scholarships and part-time jobs. And after a decade of experience, you're finally at a company that pays you well enough to have paid off your parents’ mortgage, bought yourself a new car, and most importantly, keeps all your savings accounts stuffed full. You considered yourself very well off.
Until you met Kim Mingyu.
There was no way of knowing the stranger hitting on you in the ridiculously long line of the cafe by work came from old money. He was dressed in blue jeans and a white T-shirt on a Tuesday morning for god's sake. In fact, when you agreed to a date with him, your dumb ass had the audacity to worry if he was jobless, maybe perusing the business district for a wealthy girlfriend to mooch off of.
You laugh humorlessly at the idea now. It's painfully clear who's mooching off of who in this relationship, and you've just barely come to that conclusion now. On your birthday. In the middle of the ocean.
“Hey, pretty.”
You crane your neck up to see Mingyu approaching your lounge chair, his hands in two fists around the towel draped over his shoulders—the towel that seemingly did nothing since he still has drops of water running down his golden brown skin, squeezing in between every line, curve, and corner.
He bends down to plant a kiss on your lips, drops of water falling onto you as he does but you don’t mind. You can tell from the peck that it's meant to be a quick greeting, but he pauses just after his lips meet yours, and he lingers a little longer and kisses a little slower. His mouth opens against yours—tongue slides against yours—and his hand comes up to cradle your jaw, still cold from the water. It feels like he's kissing you after having missed you for weeks.
“Hello to you too,” you mutter, a little dazed when he finally pulls away and grins boyishly. “How was your swim?”
“Oh, riveting,” he says dryly. “I love being abandoned by my girlfriend in the middle of the ocean.”
“Well, that's dramatic,” you scoff as he takes a seat on the lounge chair next to you. He situates himself on the edge so that he's still as close to you as possible, and he grabs your hand before leaning his elbows on his knees. “You seemed to be having a lot of fun.”
You actually wouldn't know. You were kind of dissociating as you watched him swim around. It was hard to be surrounded by this kind of extravagance and not feel lost.
“Mmm,” he hums thoughtfully, maintaining intimidatingly stable eye contact as he studies you. “Are you okay? You seem a little… I don't know. Tired, maybe? Bored?”
You shake your head quickly, a little panicked that Mingyu has the idea he spent all this money on you just for you to be bored. “No! No, that's not it. I am definitely not bored, baby. I'm having fun!”
He stares at you blankly like he knows that's not true. It's been such a short amount of time dating, but his read on you is hardly ever wrong. Mingyu doesn't say anything, obviously waiting for you to explain what it is as opposed to what it isn't.
You sigh. “I'm just… this is… a lot,” you admit. His eyebrows twitch into the tiniest of frowns and you rush to continue to avoid a miscommunication. “I love it! And I'm having fun! I'm just surprised is all. Like, I obviously knew you had money, but… I didn't know you had yacht money. Or Bulgari necklace money. Tiny welcome chocolates with 14K gold flakes money.”
He snorts, shaking his head at that. “Okay. I do have money for all that, yes. Does that… make you uncomfortable…?” he asks.
To his credit, he passes as levelheaded, but you've gotten good at reading him yourself, and you see the way his eyes narrow a little like he's struggling to understand something. The way his lips turn down in the corners and his tongue pokes at his cheek anxiously.
“I'm just not used to someone spending like this on me,” you say instead of directly answering the question. You don't know what you are. “I could work until I'm 100 years old and never be able to afford to buy you these kinds of gifts. I—”
“I don't expect these kinds of gifts. I don't expect any gifts.”
“Sure, but—”
“Baby,” he starts, suddenly standing.
He forces you to scooch over on your own chaise so that he can lay next to you, and you oblige even though there's really nowhere for you to go. The two of you barely fit, but after he wraps an arm around you and pulls you tight to his chest, you're comfortable knowing you won't fall off the edge.
“I did this because I want you to feel special on your birthday, okay?” he assures you, the worry on his face dissipating immediately when he realizes what the issue is. “I never expect anything back when I spend money on you.” He pauses to think before adding: “Except maybe a kiss or two.”
You roll your eyes but can't stop the smile that grows on your face.
“I don't need gifts. I can buy myself anything I want. The only thing in the world that I want—actually, desperately need—that I can't buy is you and your time and your attention and your l—” He stops to clear his throat, and your heart skips a beat. Neither of you have said I love you, and you want to believe love was the word he wanted to say next. Because it's true. He has your love. You just haven't found the courage to say it. “You being around is more than enough, okay? Besides, I plan to have you around for a long time. You should probably get used to spending my money haphazardly.”
“Mingyu!” you slap his abs, resting your hand there and smiling at the way his muscles feel under you.
“What?” he laughs, shrugging. “I'm serious. Let's not dwell on what we can and can't give each other. What's mine is yours.” He rubs your arm comfortingly and plants a kiss against the crown of your head. “This is all I want. I don't need anything else.”
You lift your head off Mingyu's chest and look him in the eye. He raises his eyebrows a little at the abrupt movement, but it's still plain to see he looks happy, calm, relaxed. Everything a man in love would look like, and you see that he's being sincere with you.
“I'm sorry,” you sigh, making him frown. “I just let my insecurities get the best of me. I'm so grateful for all this, I really am. But I hope you know that I don't need any of this either. I agreed to go out with you fully thinking you were an unemployed loser looking for a sugar mama.” Mingyu huffs out a laugh of disbelief. “Your money is the least interesting thing about you.”
“Wow, an unemployed loser, huh?” he repeats, still laughing. “Was it the flip flops?”
“I mean… yeah?”
He barks out his laughter then and it's contagious, making you grin. When it subsides into a happy sigh, you decide it's a sound you'd like to hear forever. You want to stop wasting time.
“Mingyu, I love you,” you say quietly.
His smile falls right off his face and his eyes widen. You'd be worried if his arms didn't press you even tighter to his still wet body. After several moments of silence, you're about to reassure him he doesn't have to say anything back, but before you can, his hands are circling around your arms and yanking you up the chaise to meet his lips.
Mingyu kisses you more voraciously than he ever has, lips and tongue moving desperately like he wants to swallow the three words himself. It sends a dull ache straight to your core, and you fight the urge to grind your bikini clad cunt right against his thigh. His large hand comes up to hold your cheek, his thumb caressing it while his fingers sink into your hair. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, clinging to them desperately like you might disintegrate if you don't.
“Mingyu,” you sigh as he breaks away and starts trailing kisses down your neck. “Mingyu, I—”
“I love you,” he says, his voice hazy with desire.
He repeats it over and over again with each press of his lips against your skin. You put enough space between the two of you to stop his flurry of kisses. You look down at him, and you're knocked breathless at the reverence he watches you with. You have absolutely no doubt in the world that Kim Mingyu loves you.
You smile and surge forward to kiss him once, twice, three times before giggling like a kid. “I love you,” you say again.
He laughs too, his hands coming to your back and rubbing up and down slowly. It's how you realize you're practically on top of him now, the only part of you still on the chaise being one leg.
Your smile slowly slips off your face and you crawl up his body until you're straddling him on the lounge chair. You both have been patient with one another, not pushing sex before the other was ready, but it feels like a day for firsts. Mingyu must think the same because he sits up, arms wrapping around your middle as he tilts his chin to look up at you with big, shiny eyes.
You keep a hand on his shoulder, bring your other to his face, and without breaking eye contact, you wordlessly roll your hips into his. His next breath is a sharp inhale through his nose as you watch his pupils dilate. You feel your lips curve up into a smile as he begins to harden underneath you, straining against his wet shorts in mere moments.
“Um, I—are…” he blinks several times as you continue to grind against him, and when he clearly can’t find the words he’s looking for, his hands clamp down on your waist to stop your movement. “Are you—”
“Yes.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“Were you going to ask if I wanted to finally have sex?”
He snorts. “No.” You look at him flatly. “Okay, yes.”
“Still yes then.”
He reaches up to brush your hair away from your face, and he pulls you down by the nape of your neck to kiss you. You're a mess of lips, saliva, and hands—feeling everywhere you can touch while simultaneously keeping away from the one place you need each other. You break away in a gasp when he slips his hand under the back of your bikini and squeezes your ass hard.
You tilt your head back as he kisses down the middle of your throat, and to your horror, you find an employee coming up the stairs of the sun deck with a platter of champagne.
“Oh shit!” you shriek as you scramble off Mingyu’s lap, settling for awkwardly sitting between his calves at the foot of the chaise.
He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind, but you’ve run out of time to warn him. He must hear the footsteps as the yacht staff member approaches, though, because he quickly crosses his legs and very conspicuously cups his hands over his crotch. If the staff member notices, they’re well-trained to ignore it.
“The champagne you requested from the swim deck, Mr. Kim,” the young man announces, lowering the platter so that you both can easily take your own flutes. Neither of you waste a moment grabbing one.
When the employee doesn’t depart, you realize he’s waiting for you both to take a sip and make sure it’s to your liking. You go to toast Mingyu quickly, but he stops you.
“Wait, wait,” he says, hand on your wrist from where he’s keeping you from toasting him and getting rid of the staff. “Happy birthday. I hope it’s the most amazing one yet, and I can’t wait to spend so many more with you.” He’s almost shy when he smiles and finishes with: “I love you.”
“Oh, Mingyu,” you pout before smiling widely and leaning forward to kiss him, almost completely forgetting about your bystander. “I love you too. Thank you for everything. Cheers.”
You clink glasses, and you sigh in relief when the employee takes that as his moment to exit. He sets the ice bucket and bottle of champagne down on the table nearest to your chaise before he smiles brightly at you both.
“Please let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
“No!” Mingyu says too loudly and too quickly. You choke on your first sip of champagne. “I mean,” he lowers his voice considerably, “no, Chad. Just… we’re good. Please let the staff know to leave us alone for the rest of the night. Thanks.”
“Of course,” he responds without missing a beat, smiling brightly before making his exit. You watch him disappear down the stairs as you rub your chest, your coughs finally subsiding.
“Have you fucked girls on your yacht before?”
It’s Mingyu’s turn to take his champagne down the wrong tube. “What?”
“Why does ‘leave me alone for the rest of the night’ seem like normal protocol?” you ask, lips curling into a mischievous smile as you watch him struggle with the question.
“I have not fucked girls on my yacht before,” he denies it petulantly. He clears his throat. “But a ton of people do all kinds of questionable things on boats.” You make a mental note to ask him for stories later. “Yacht staff are all trained to be… discreet. So.”
“So Chad knows we’re fucking tonight.”
Mingyu smirks into his glass, taking several gulps until it’s completely empty. You raise your eyebrows at him. “If he doesn’t, he definitely will in a few minutes.” Your cheeks warm at the implication and he nods at your flute. “Hurry up and finish that. We’ve got somewhere to be.”
You gasp, tears slipping out of your eyes and past your blindfold as you struggle against the ropes Mingyu tied around your wrists. They’re tied to the headboard of the bed in his stateroom, rendering you absolutely helpless as his tongue massages your clit, his hand already two fingers deep inside you and beckoning an orgasm closer.
“Mingyu,” you whimper, struggling to keep your legs open even though there’s nowhere they could possibly go anyway. Your boyfriend’s grasp on each thigh is pressing them down and open mercilessly, determined to keep you from interrupting his meal.
“What is it, baby?” he asks, licking quick stripes up your slit between every few words. “Too much for you? We can stop.”
“No!” you shout quickly, whining when you hear his breathy laughter follow. “It’s not funny. I’m… I…” Your words devolve into a mess of moans as he decides he’d rather eat than talk. His fingers work against the spongy spot inside you, his mouth closing over your clit as he starts to lick and suck with more fervor than before. “Oh god. Please!”
“Please what?” he asks against you, the vibrations of his voice reverberating through your cunt.
You don’t even know what you’re asking for. For the last half hour now, Mingyu has been pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you with just his mouth alone. There’s nothing else you could possibly ask for, but still, all you know how to say is “please.”
You gasp, hips bucking as your orgasm shoots through your entire body, causing you to shudder and writhe almost uncontrollably at the overstimulation. You don’t have much space to move, though, with your hands restricted like this.
“Gyu!” you shriek, shamelessly grinding up and into his mouth. His fingers pump in and out of you quickly, your pussy giving no resistance anymore now that he’s made a mess out of you. “Oh my god.”
“I think you’re ready,” he says, smiling against you.
More tears escape as you cry in what you think is relief. He told you there would be a lot of foreplay. He warned you that he was big and that he didn’t want to hurt you—that the only way he felt comfortable doing this was once you were thoroughly prepared. You just didn’t realize it meant having his head between your legs for so long, you’d lost feeling in both feet and gone cross-eyed with pleasure.
Before he leaves his residency, he lowers his chin and stiffens his tongue, shoving it into you as far as it’ll go, his entire face pressed against you. The sensation elongates the orgasm enough that you’re sure it’s started a whole new one as Mingyu licks you clean from the inside out. When he’s done, he kisses your clit before moving around on the bed.
“Hi,” he whispers, voice suddenly right next to your ear. You struggle to catch your breath as his hands run up your sides.
“Hi,” you respond pathetically.
“Don’t cry, darling,” he tells you, voice soft and gravely. You wish you could see how he looked right now. You wish you could know if he looked just as fucked up and fucked out as you felt. If his face matched his voice. “I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I?”
“Too good,” you breathe, not sure you can say more than two words at a time.
He snickers as his fingers slip under your bikini top, the last piece of clothing you have on before he has you completely naked. He massages your breast under the fabric, thumb running over your nipple several times. He presses his lips against your sternum, his weight resting against you as he does, and you realize he’s catching his breath too. You can feel his heartbeat against your stomach, going almost as fast as you think yours is. He continues kneading your tit like it’s his own personal stress ball for several minutes, leaving kisses across your skin absentmindedly.
“I think you were made for me,” he mutters after a while.
“I hope you were made for me,” you respond when you think you’ve finally relaxed enough to have coherent thoughts again. “Because what do you mean you own a yacht and want to eat pussy for the better part of an hour? You’re literally my dream man.”
His hand pauses against you as he laughs into your chest, shaking the bed as he does. You smile at the sound.
“Mingyu?”
“Mmm.”
“Can you remove my blindfold?” you ask quietly. “I want to see your face.”
He removes his hand from your chest, placing the bikini back where it was as if you aren’t already entirely naked from the waist down. He moves up the bed and his fingers work at the knot he made behind your head, undoing it quickly. You blink a few times as you adjust to the already dimmed light of the room.
“Hi.”
He looks so blissful. His eyes are half-lidded like he just woke up, and his mouth is curved up into the slightest, laziest, most content smile. He looks down at you like he truly believes his own words—like he truly believes you were made for him.
Your wrists don’t let you far enough up to kiss him, but he knows exactly what you want and he gives it to you. You taste yourself on him, and the thought that Mingyu loves it enough to go at it for so long makes you impossibly wetter.
“Are you ready?” he asks when he pulls away to kick off his shorts and shove them somewhere toward the foot of the bed. You look down at what you’re dealing with, and you realize Mingyu definitely knew best when he said you needed to be patient. You nod.
“Mhm.”
“I’m going to untie you, okay?” he asks gently even though he roughly shoves your top up your chest, your tits bouncing out. He groans, burying his face between them before taking a nipple in his mouth.
You arch into his body, exhaling softly at the warm feeling. He releases you with a pop and quickly rips the top completely off, throwing it over his shoulder before caging you in with his legs and crawling up the bed to work on the ropes on your wrist. His dick rests against your stomach as he works, thick and heavy and staring you in the face. Your mouth waters.
“Hurry, Gyu,” you whisper. He laughs softly.
“Impatient.”
You bite back a retort because at that moment, the ropes give way and your wrists are freed. Without thinking twice, you have both hands wrapped around Mingyu’s dick immediately, eliciting a gasp from him. You shimmy down on the bed, one hand pulling at his waist.
“What are you doing?” he asks as he tries to keep his balance at your incessant pulling.
“I think it’s your turn” is all you say, releasing him once you’re low enough on the bed. His huge fucking cock hangs in front of you—intimidating and scary and glorious. You lean back and prop yourself on your elbows before looking up at him.
He peers down at you with a confused look on his face. All you do in response is open your mouth wide. His eyes practically bulge out of his head when he realizes what you want him to do.
“Are you sure?!” he asks in disbelief. “I’m—I—you—”
“Fuck my mouth, Mingyu.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, taking himself in his hold and pumping a few times before gently laying his swollen tip on your tongue. He curses under his breath.
“Let me know if it becomes too much, okay?” he reminds you. You don’t bother responding as you take more of his length in. “Holy shit. Fuck!”
It doesn’t take more than three thrusts until tears are collecting in the corner of your eyes, but you don’t care. Because you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter than Mingyu on top of you, fucking your mouth with his eyes squeezed shut like he’s begging a god out there to keep him from coming on the spot. You bring one hand up to his balls, massaging gently and the sounds it pulls out of him are downright heavenly.
“Baby,” he gasps. “Oh my god.”
You’re a mess of precum, drool, and tears, but you remind yourself to enjoy the burn in your shoulders from propping yourself up like this, the ache of Mingyu’s cock abusing the back of your throat, and the sting where his hand has become a fist in your hair because it could last your entire life and you think it would still be over too soon—being able to see how good you can make him feel.
His thrusts slow to a gradual stop and he takes his cock out of your mouth, sitting back on the heel of his feet as he catches his breath, staring at you like you invented blowjobs just for him. You smile at him as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before plopping back down on the bed, your shoulders screaming in relief.
He situates himself back between your legs, and without breaking eye contact, he lifts one up and over his shoulder. He kisses your calf, then your knee, and then he pushes forward until your thigh is pressed up against your shoulder and you feel his tip at your hole.
Wordlessly, he pushes in gently, and even with all the orgasms you had, you gasp at the way he stretches you open. He groans, head hanging as he watches himself slowly, slowly, slowly disappear inside you. He breathes evenly and deliberately like his control relies solely on him staying as calm as possible. You don’t quite have the same composure, fists tight around his bedsheets as you whine and whimper underneath him.
“Shhh,” he breathes, another kiss ghosting the inside of your knee. “You’re doing so well, baby.” You moan at the praise. “Doing so fucking well for me.”
“Gyu,” you gasp when you feel him bottom out. If his hands weren’t planted firmly on either side of your head, you’re sure he would’ve completely collapsed on you as he exhales a heavy breath, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose and onto your stomach.
“Are you okay?” he asks when you know he’s sure he won’t come immediately. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay, baby.”
“Good,” he breathes, nodding as he leans forward and pecks your lips. “I love you.”
You smile. “I love you.”
“I’m going to move now, okay?”
You fight to keep from giggling at how endearing he is, even during sex. “Okay.”
His first few thrusts are so shallow, you’re not sure he’s even pulling out at all. The only reason you know he is is that each thrust back in makes the delicious ache in your stomach grow. It isn’t until you slip your leg off Mingyu’s shoulder and lock your ankles together behind him and pull him in closer that he starts to really pick up his pace, increasingly intense until he’s slamming into you with a frenetic energy you feel like you can choke on.
Being fucked by Mingyu is unlike being fucked by anyone else. It’s in the way he watches you closely, searching for any signs you’re no longer enjoying or in pain. The way he keeps whispering how much he loves you—like saying it for the first time tonight broke a dam wide open and he can no longer keep the three words in. The way he blushes each time you reach up to pull him down and kiss him. The way his body starts to thrash and tremble the closer he gets to his orgasm. It’s the way he fills you up with his cum so thoroughly and completely, you know there’s no way you can ever be anybody else’s but his. It’s in the way he holds you for so long after, you fall asleep in his arms and only wake up when he’s carrying you into the restroom to help you clean up.
At the end of the night, Mingyu wraps you up in his blankets and himself as the yacht docks at the marina, zero desire to leave even though you’re back at land.
(a/n): hellooo hellooo annyeonghaseo!!! I'm back. naked seungcheol got me all hot and bothered i couldn't help but write this. also the fact that i already knew he had a dad bod 🤨(not surprising because we literally live together) also it's my first time writing a headcanon, so I hope you like it ;)
SMUT ahead under cut!!
dad bod!seungcheol who still looks massive when he walks by. broad shoulders, heavy steps, arms that could still lift you like nothing if he tried - but there’s a softness to him now, one that’s crept in over the years. a little extra weight on his stomach, smells of baby formula, and that constant stubble because shaving every day doesn’t feel worth it anymore.
dad bod!seungcheol who complains about it sometimes, grumbling in front of the mirror while he runs a towel over his face. “need to start running again,” he mutters, or “can’t believe I used to have abs.” but you just lean against the doorframe, watching him, half-smiling because he’s still the same man - just… fuller
when he sits down, he spreads out - thighs taking space, arm slung behind the couch, posture lazy and open. you love that he doesn’t even notice how he fills a room anymore
dad bod!seungcheol who doesn’t understand why you’ve gotten clingier. why your hands always seem to find their way under his shirt when you hug him from behind, why you keep brushing crumbs off his chest when there are no crumbs, why your lips always linger a second too long when you kiss him goodbye
dad bod!seungcheol who still still wakes up before everyone else, shuffling around the kitchen shirtless, hair a mess, making coffee like it’s a ritual. you watch him from the doorway - all broad shoulders, soft stomach, stubble catching the morning light - and suddenly you’re way too awake.
dad bod!seungcheol who just mere minutes later, is now a moaning mess as you suck him as if your life depends on it.
"fu-uck," he pants, "slow down, babe." but the way he holds your head even tighter, says otherwise.
"can't!" you pant, taking him out of your mouth. "you get me all hot and bothered." he swears he could come right then and there and with that look in his eyes - he'd give you another child already.
"fuck me, baby." you moan, and he's trembling, barely holding onto the edge.
dad bod!seungcheol who grips your hips so hard, you're sure they're will be marks by the time you're done.
he wraps his arms around you, pushes you onto the wall and thrusts up into you - heavy balls smacking against your ass. the whines that comes out of your mouth is just pitiful.
he pinches your clit and your walls clench him tighter.
"fuck baby, you're so tight" he huffs. "you want to make me a dad again? huh?"
“cheol- slo- ugh. slow down” you pant as your legs shake every time his tip brushes your spot. the way his large, bulbous tip was brushing against your very inner walls had you dizzy. “-want more.”
"I'll give you exactly what you want, mama"
you moan so loud that the whole damn block might know exactly what he’s doing to you.
"not so loud, mama. baby'll wake up" seungcheol is grinning.
"mhmm, cheol." you breathe, gripping his biceps harder. "feels so good."
your fingers dig into his shoulders, velvet walls clenching around him as your body shook violently, thighs quaking as pleasure surged through your veins.
“fuck, cheol - ohh fuck ‘m gonna cum!” your legs feel like liquid - you are glad he's holding you - otherwise you'd be as good as putty.
“thaaat’s it, mama. come f’me.” he groaned, pushing in with a few more punishing thrusts before spilling inside your spasming cunt, thick, hot ropes of cum filling you to the brim.
he’s holding you flush against him, fingers pressing into your back, thumb tracing along your jaw. “god…you really are relentless,” he huffs, voice low, teasing but strained.
you grin, smirking up at him. “can you blame me?” his chest rises with a laugh. "hmm…nope,” he murmurs, lips grazing your temple. “not at all. and I think…I like it.” you trace over his shoulders, leaning closer, feeling the weight of him, the warmth, the lingering tension.
“good,” you whisper. “because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
Mingyu doesn't want to pay you any mind. To him, you're just another girl that'll get her heart broken by his dumb best friend.
Why would he care, right? He shouldn't care about the crying sounds he hears from his bedroom when his friend stands you up for the girl he's actually in love with. And he shouldn't be getting close to you. He shouldn't dread the day his friend decides to end things with you and bring someone else home. He shouldn't be wishing to have met you first.
pairing: mingyu x f!reader (with a side of bad bf!jungkook)
word count: 30,2k (lmaooo)
genre: bf's best friend mingyu, (awkward) acquaintances to lovers, the other side of the f2l trope, angst, smut, you could say there's a drizzle of fluff
content warnings: emotional cheating, tsundere mingyu at first, too much crying, self-manipulating, moral dilemmas, jealousy, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, denial (tons), one minor injury, mention of blood, a love triangle?, sexual tension, inappropriate things happen between mc and mingyu, petnames: babe, baby, princess (hers) | explicit smut, teasing, body worship, praise, marking, protected penetration, it's love making guys
🎧: mine — ive, breathing — nct dream, knew you — kailee morgue, begin again (taylor's version) — taylor swift, i wanna tell u — lexie liu
a big thank you to tiya @gyubakeries and ro @shinysobi for reading this over and telling me it doesn't suck ♡ and rae @nerdycheol for supporting my simp and pathetic men agenda ♡
THIS FIC IS FOR +18 READERS ONLY! I can't control what people read, but I can control who interacts with my blog. MINORS CAUGHT INTERACTING WILL BE BLOCKED.
disclaimer: i didn't want to make any svt member the asshole so i made him jungkook, but i love jungkook he's literally my bias in bts and my forever ult so please just remember that this is a work of fiction and it doesn't represent how he is in real life nor how i view him (it pained me writing him this way you have no idea kdjfgnrjeskgf). i also didn't proofread the last two scenes i¿m sawrry
last note: there are several pov switches throughout the whole fic, because it just went where it wanted, I had no control over it, it was the fic i swear.
check out my main masterlist ♡ dividers used: heartbeat, paper texture (banner)
i hope you enjoy! i'd love to read your thoughts :)
“Are you sure I won’t bother him?"
You’ve blocked Jungkook’s hand from opening the door to his shared apartment, forcing him to look at your pleading eyes.
“Babe, it’s not the first time you’ve come to watch a movie, he doesn’t mind, stop worrying.”
“It’s just... he always locks himself up in his room when I come over. Maybe he doesn’t want to get to know me.” You whisper, in fear the door doesn’t muffle the sounds from outside and he’s standing just by the entrance.
The few times you’ve crossed paths with your boyfriend’s roommate, he barely said hi before sprinting out of whatever room you were in. Sure, your relationship with Jungkook is fairly new, and you don’t expect to become friendly with his circle of friends so quickly. But if his closest friend won’t pay you any mind then how are you supposed to get along?
“He does that to give us privacy, I promise it has nothing to do with you.” Jungkook doesn’t notice the coldness you're sure his friend exhibits towards you, as he has been that way every time he brought a new girl to their home. Jungkook attributes it to his friend simply giving him some space, to not make everything awkward by being the third wheel. “He wanted to watch a movie, and he said it was cool when I told him you were coming over.”
A deep breath leaves your lungs at his confirmation, even if it’s already the tenth time you’ve asked the same question and got the same answer.
Inside the apartment, Mingyu sits manspreading on the couch, phone in his hand and headphones at the maximum not-deafening volume. Jungkook’s still in his fairytale phase, that time at the beginning of a relationship when he still tries to introduce his new partner to aspects of his life, in which Mingyu is included. That’s the only reason he accepted his friend’s insistent plea to hang out with you both tonight. And when a hand shakes his shoulder lightly, he knows it’s his Jungkook with his new catch of the semester.
You sit on the other end of the couch, as far as possible from Mingyu’s motionless body, still unsure on where you stand with him. Neither of you make the effort to talk to the other while Jungkook goes to his bedroom to change. You don’t want to bother him and make him have a reason to dislike you, and Mingyu notices your nervousness, but prefers not to do anything about it.
Mingyu has learned to not try hard to get to know Jungkook’s fleeting girlfriends, because no matter how nice or how pretty you are, in a matter of weeks, he knows his friend will find something to complain about and eventually use as an excuse to break things off. It’s a never-ending cycle, and he learned he can’t do anything to stop it.
“What are we watching?”
Jungkook’s loud voice breaks the ice beginning to build up in the living room, and quickly sits down between Mingyu and you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He doesn’t seem to notice the ignoring contest going on, chatting with Mingyu like the other man wasn’t just dead silent.
After discovering you’ve never seen Rocky, a few gasps from Jungkook and a lot of convincing later, the movie starts playing on the screen in front of you. You didn’t actually care what they chose, just happy to spend some time with your boyfriend, even if you’re not alone.
Mingyu knows the movie from beginning to end and backwards, could even recite the dialogues if asked, not because he particularly likes it, but because Jungkook somehow always convinces the girls he brings to their home to endure it.
He used to argue with him about the reputation he built of being a heartbreaker, but Jungkook doesn’t see it that way. To him, he’s just trying to find the one in an endless quest that never fulfills him the way he thinks a relationship should. But Mingyu knows Jungkook well, and the real reason why he can’t last in a relationship for longer than a few months is clear as day, but Jungkook’s blind to it.
You pretend to focus on the storyline, Rocky’s growth journey that Jungkook was so excited about, while he comments on his favorite parts. It’s not a movie you’d pick if you were alone or with your friends, too manly for your taste, and the romance aspect is too shallow, but Jungkook’s perspective and insightful comments are making you appreciate it more.
Tears begin forming on the corners of your eyes as the final fight progresses, your throat closing up in warning as the rounds pass and Rocky gets beaten up by his opponent. No matter the genre, movies always make you cry during the final act as the protagonist reaches the goal after struggling so much.
After the referee separates both opponents, tying at the 14th round, the public demands a rematch, but Rocky’s more preoccupied to look for the woman he loves. You try to sniffle quietly, no longer being able to put a stop to your weeping, and snuggle against Jungkook’s chest, just as his phone rings, receiving a call from Cathlyn.
From the corner of his eye, Mingyu notices the whole interaction, and he almost gets shocked by Jungkook blankly rejecting the call in an instant and putting his attention back on the screen. How didn’t Jungkook notice you’ve been loudly sobbing for the past fifteen minutes is beyond him. But the shock lasts less than two seconds, as Jungkook's phone rings again and he gets up from the couch, heading to the kitchen with his phone in his hand and his thumb already opening Cathlyn’s text conversation.
You know Cathlyn has been your boyfriend’s best friend since high-school, and became inseparable since then. You even came to meet her a few times. She’s funny, nice and outgoing, effortlessly being the center of attention.
The living room gets cold again after Jungkook goes to the other room, and it’s too obvious that Mingyu just doesn’t have any interest in engaging in small talk with you. Your last sniffles echo against the walls, and the sigh Mingyu lets out almost sounds louder in the sea of dense silence.
Another sniffle from you and a tired sigh from him, Mingyu gets up to go after his friend who doesn’t seem to be coming back to the couch soon enough. He leaves a pack of tissues in front of you without sparing you a glance, and just walks past the couch.
"Dude, don’t just leave me alone with her.” You don’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation. You really don’t. But the sound carries. And it just proves that Mingyu clearly doesn’t like you. “She’s your date, not mine.”
“Sorry bro, Cathy was calling me nonstop. I thought something had happened.” Not necessarily true, as she called only once and Mingyu's aware of it. “She wants to go out tonight, clear her head a bit.”
“I don’t care what Cathlyn wants. Your girlfriend was crying and you just left her there.” It’s almost like he was defending you, but something in his tone suggests that it isn’t about you specifically. You blow your nose one more time, and the sound echoes into the kitchen. “Listen, she’s still crying like a baby, go with her bro.”
Last words you hear before heavy steps begin and get closer and closer to the living room couch until the man sits by your side.
“Sorry babe, I know movies always get you emotional.” Jungkook apologizes sweetly, even if there’s something else in his mind.
“It’s okay.” The sun setting behind the windows draws your attention away from your boyfriend. “I should get going. It’s getting late and I promised my roommate we’d go out for dinner.”
Lame excuse, but you’re aware you’re not wanted at the apartment anymore by half the people living under that roof, and it really is too late.
Jungkook nods, unbeknownst to the uncomfortable situation he's a part of, and grabs your coat as you get up from the couch. You turn back, smiling to Mingyu coming out of the kitchen as a form of goodbye, but he just nods and sits back down.
“We're going out later, and Cathy’s paying, you wanna come? It’s a bar close to here.” Jungkook naively asks as he walks you to the door. He might be genuine with his invitation, but you’re not sure.
“I told you I have an important meeting for the congress tomorrow morning, I can't go out."
Jungkook hasn’t proven himself as someone with the best memory out there. You’ve had to remind him of important stuff a few times already. The key is to just take a deep breath and not let it stir up any anger within you, because that’s just how he is.
“Oh, I thought it was on Sunday.” Jungkook asks just as Mingyu walks past the end of the hallway into his bedroom and shuts the door.
Even he knows about your meeting, because you told Jungkook last time you were there, and even if he locks himself up in his room, the walls might as well be made of paper the way he can always hear your conversations.
“Tomorrow is Sunday.” You note as you chuckle lightly.
“Oh, shit. Then I guess I’ll see you when you're done.” He gives you a sweet kiss for the first time in the day, light and fleeting like a feather, and closes the door after you take a few steps towards the elevator.
Nayeon closes her macbook suddenly, done with all the work you have been doing since the early morning, ready to take a deserved break. “So? How was the hot date last night?” She rests her chin on the palm of her hand, ready for whatever gossip you’re willing to share.
“It wasn't hot.” Your eyes don’t leave your notebook, in an intent to work on ideas to make the presentation more interesting.
“You’re so secretive! C’mon, tell your best friends forever and ever what you did!” She insists, making you chuckle as you see your other friend mirroring her from the corner of your eye.
Your pen drops from your hand onto the table as you finally look at them. “It was just a movie night with his asshole roommate.”
“The hot one?” Jennie intercepts, now more interested than before.
“I don't know Jen, his only roommate.” You try to go back to your notes but your friends’ unrelenting stares make it impossible to concentrate. “And how do you even know him? I’d never seen him before meeting Jungkook.”
“It’s ‘cause you’re too cool for campus gossip,” Jennie takes the chance to poke fun at your lack of knowledge of basically anyone, “but everyone knows Jungkook and Mingyu.” They both giggle at their mention.
“Be serious, we're not in high school.” You deadpan, but deep down you know nothing really changes from high-school to college. The drama remains the same, just with a few years added to the people involved. “There’s no such thing as the popular guys.”
When you were younger, the different cliques that formed were crucial to what the experience was going to be for the years to come. And you used to live for the gossip. You always knew the latest fight or the newest couple before anyone else. It felt important at that time and it kept you entertained. But as you grew older, got into college and met new people, meaningless gossip lost its interest, your focus now on passing your classes, meeting new friends, and having the best contacts to move forward with your career.
Sure, you knew of a Jungkook, as your best friends are up to date with the gossip and like it or not, you end up hearing everything even if you don’t know the people they’re talking about. But before he approached you at a party, you had no real idea who he was. It’s true that when you first saw your boyfriend at that party, he caught your attention immediately, and it’s undeniable that if you had seen him before, you would’ve been caught in his spell like every other girl on campus.
“What I mean is that people take notice when two hot guys hang out everyday.” Nayeon points it out like it’s the most common thing in the world. And maybe it is. “They’re like candy to the eye, too sweet, unapproachable, but nice to see nevertheless.”
You don’t forget to roll your eyes before replying. “Mingyu’s still an asshole. He never talks to me! I’m sure he curses at me in his head every time I show up at their apartment.”
“He seems so serious all the time.” Nayeon adds, having your back. “He’s probably a stem major or something like that.”
“He’s always hunched over his computer, so he probably is.” You note, eyes returning to your notebook so you can keep working on the presentation and be done with the topic.
“I once tried talking to him at a party, but he just looked me dead in the eye and said he wasn’t interested.” Jennie’s stare gets lost to the view out the window as she remembers. “I barely told him my name.”
Nayeon and you exchange looks before erupting into laughter.
“You guys are so mean!” Jennie complains, but joins to laugh with you two.
“Hey, at least he had the decency to tell you that and not lead you on.” Jennie shrugs, not really hurt as she has already forgotten that cursed interaction. “He barely says hi to me before sprinting out of my sight.”
“He doesn’t really talk to many people except that group of friends they have. It’s not personal, he's just a little anti-social.” Nayeon puts her two cents in. “Just let him be an asshole if he wants to be one!”
“I shouldn’t let him occupy that much space in my mind.” You nod at them and they both nod back in agreement. “I’m dating his best friend, he’s going to have to accept it.”
Nayeon and Jennie exchange looks, raising their eyebrows at your words before going back to you.
You have a vague idea what they meant by that, but you still ask, incredulously. “What?”
“Nothing!” They say in unison.
They tried several times to enlighten you about Jungkook’s “reputation”, as they called it, but you prefer to get to know him on your own and not have your judgement clouded beforehand. Rumors are just that, rumors.
“Look,” with your hands slapped on the table, you order their attention, “I know you guys don’t really like that I’m dating him,” you observe, “but I promise, It’s fine! He’s really nice and I think he really likes me.”
“It’s not that.” Jennie says at the same time as Nayeon exclaims, “I’m sure he does!”
“We already told you, he usually dates for a few months before breaking up all of the sudden.” Jennie continues, paraphrasing every warning they already gave you. “We’ll have your back with whatever you want to do, just be careful.”
“I won’t let a tattooed man who I've only been dating for a couple of weeks break my heart.” At least you think you're stronger than that.
“Am I an asshole if I tell you to just not get your hopes up?” Nayeon asks, and if it was any other person, you'd get mad, but only because it's her and she just lacks tact sometimes, you let it slide.
“Yes! You are!” You chuckle, knowing she’s just looking out for you. “Thank you guys for worrying about me. Now, I think we should shorten the introduction a little bit. Everyone there already knows who Durkheim is, we don't need to explain his whole biography.”
The notes you've been taking all day stare back at you, now more of a bunch of senseless scribbles than useful annotations.
“Ugh! Back to work already?” Jennie’s body falls limp on her chair, not ready for more hours of brainstorming and not reaching any goals.
“The professor wants to hear the whole thing tomorrow, we can't show up with anything less than a perfect speech.” You insist, opening Nayeon's macbook again against her will.
“Do you promise to tell us any good gossip about those friends of his, in about…” she looks at her empty wrist, pretending there's a watch there, “two hours? We'll work diligently until then.”
A deep sigh leaves you with a barely there smile you try to hide. “Fine. Two hours, and then we can take a real break.”
The waitress carries two pieces of cake and the biggest strawberry smoothie you’ve ever seen in your life, heading to your table. The size of the cup brings out chuckles from both Jungkook and you, but as soon as it gets placed between you on the table, the two straws draw your attention, and Jungkook asks the waitress for another smaller chocolate smoothie.
“You can have that all for yourself babe, I know how much you love strawberries.”
You don’t admit that you were excited for the corny romantic moment of sharing a smoothie with two straws, appreciating that he at least remembered your love for berries.
Jungkook’s phone keeps vibrating with notifications, which he reads but doesn’t respond to, trying his best to focus on whatever you’re telling him. His mind is anywhere but the diner where you decided to have an afternoon snack, battling between answering Cathlyn’s worrying texts and listening to the ideas you gave for the presentation you’re doing with your friends in front of various colleges soon.
In the middle of your story is when you realize Jungkook hasn’t said a word, his eyes lost to the much more interesting brown swirls on the wooden table.
“Is everything okay?” He’s been noticeably distracted lately, getting lost in thought more often, taking longer to reply to your texts. You attribute it to the time of the year, as he’s busier at work and with his studies, and so are you. But even if he says he’s fine, you’re beginning to worry.
“Yeah babe, sorry, just a little tired.” His lips line up in a tight smile in an attempt to reassure you. “Do you mind hanging out at my apartment after we’re done eating?”
Scraping your plans to catch an afternoon movie, you hum and nod before returning to eating your piece of cake, seemingly disguising your disappointment since he doesn’t ask any more questions.
Jungkook leaves his plate exactly the way the server left it for him, the piece of chocolate cake with not even a particle less, his fork unused and clean on the side. He gulps down his new personal smoothie in a second, and as soon as the last piece of your cake is entering your mouth, he’s asking the waitress for the bill. He knows you’re still talking to him, he can see your lips moving, but your words enter one ear and leave through the other, having no meaning in his mind.
Jungkook pays without asking for your share, which you weren’t even going to argue with him about. You’re usually a heavy supporter of each person paying for what they ordered, but as the minutes pass by, it’s becoming harder and harder to not get mad at him, so you’re going to spend his money without feeling bad about it. You know you should ask him about it, but shouldn’t he tell you if something was wrong? Especially after you’ve already asked him? Between being a pushover and pretending nothing’s happening, you end up choosing to just spend the rest of the afternoon with him and hope he’ll just tell you the truth.
The walk to his apartment is less than 10 minutes long, but every dreaded step drags heavily, making everything move slower, with the both of you in silence, and the incessant notifications blowing up his phone acting as a remainder of his true priority.
Jungkook’s trying to ignore the constant ping coming out of the pocket of his jeans, pretending he isn’t dying to just answer who keeps trying to contact him.
And you have a vague idea of who it could possibly be.
The cold apartment doesn’t feel welcoming as you enter through the door, lights off and deadly silent. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you tiptoe around as if in fear. Your reflection in the mirror looks unmistakably disappointed and sad, and you wonder if Jungkook really didn’t notice or just didn’t care.
He can be charming and gentle when he wants to, always so polite and respectful, but the ability to be aware of your feelings may be something he could work on. Or at least understand that the things he does ultimately affect you too.
In the kitchen, he’s already forgotten his one rule for the date, and is carefully answering every message he got, the glasses of water he was filling for the both of you forgotten on the counter.
When he hears you come out to the living room, Jungkook rushes to sit with you, with a plan already in mind.
“Babe, will you get mad if I go for a bit?” His fingers trace lines on your forearm, and you begin to lean into him before your brain registers his words.
“What? Why?” You ask as your eyes search for any type of clue on his face.
“Cathy called me,” he takes a second to think about the best words to use, “she had a fight with her boyfriend, and I have to be there for her.”
Jungkook never liked Cathlyn's boyfriends. Something about them always feels off about them, as if none of them are ever right for his best friend. In his eyes, he just wants the best for her, someone who'll really be able to care for Cathlyn in the way he thinks she deserves.
“Oh, I hope she’s okay.” Deep down, you wonder if it really is so serious that Jungkook feels obligated to stand you up. But it’s fair, she needs her best friend when she’s having a bad time. The fact that her best friend is your boyfriend is a coincidence you can’t be mad about.
“I’ll be back before dinner and I’ll make it up to you, okay?” He’s already standing up, his arms on both of your sides as he crouches to give you a quick peck goodbye.
The door closes shut before you can even utter a reply, and his steps echo on the hallway, getting further away every second, until you’re left in complete silence.
In the quietness of the apartment, you instantly feel out of place, unwelcomed by the inanimate objects surrounding you. Seconds turn into minutes, the ticking of the clock being the only sense of time you have left. You don’t want to grab your phone, avoiding the inevitable feeling of disappointment that’ll take over you if there are no texts from Jungkook waiting in your notifications.
How stupid is what you’re doing? How desperate? Waiting for your boyfriend to come back from the home of the woman that seems to be his priority? You know you shouldn’t be feeling this way, especially since he's already told you that she’s just his best friend. But it’s still hard.
The back of your eyes burn as tears threaten to come out, blurring your vision just as you hear a key turn, heavy steps entering the home you’re not supposed to be in.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
Mingyu knew he'd find you at his apartment.
Jungkook texted him that he had an emergency and had to leave in a rush. And Mingyu knows what “emergency” really means in that context. It means Jungkook rushed over to Cathlyn's at the first sign that she was feeling off, and he wanted to hide it from him so he wouldn’t have to hear the same reprimand again.
What Mingyu didn’t expect was to find you on the verge of crying on his couch, scattering to find any form of tissue paper somewhere inside your bag.
You both freeze, looking at each other for about half a second before rushing to greet. You pretend you weren’t crying, and he acts as if he didn’t notice. Mingyu utters a quiet hello as you mumble some kind of apology for being there, and then he locks up in his bedroom as usual.
His friend put him in an awkward situation once again. Mingyu doesn’t want to get to know you more than he already does. He knows you're on a different major and that’s enough, because one day, in the near future, it’s going to be another girl walking through the door instead of you, and he’ll never see you again.
He tried a few times to stay friendly, but no one really wants to stay in contact with someone so close to the man that broke their heart. And he gets it. That's why he stopped trying all together.
Mingyu would usually come home from work, put on his headphones, and spend a few hours on his computer until his stomach urges him to eat something. But for this particular afternoon he’s been put in, he skips the headphones in case you need something, or at least until Jungkook comes back, which he isn’t even sure is going to happen.
A project for work distracts him for a good while, organizing different stats and numbers on the excel sheet his boss sent him earlier in the day. He almost forgets you’re on the other side of the wall. Almost.
If he loses his focus on his computer screen, he can hear when you move around on the couch. What can you possibly be doing? Is what he asks himself at any noise that reaches his ears, but there’s never an answer. Until something alerts him that you’re not doing well. The same sniffle he heard days ago as you were watching a movie with Jungkook echoes against the walls of his bedroom.
You’ve been trying hard not to make any sounds that may disturb Mingyu, as you assumed he was busy by the way you could hear the non-stop clicking of his keyboard from where you were sitting. But your mind seemed to have other plans, so much so that you lost control of the cascade of tears brimming from your eyes.
In between everything, you miss the sound of a door opening and steps getting closer to you. Mingyu comes into view as you’re wiping away tears with the back of your hand, and you can’t pretend he didn’t see you this time.
He sits by your side in silence, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say, but also because he can’t just leave you alone in this state. He feels responsible in a way.
“Is he with…” Are the first words that come out of his mouth after seconds of dead silence.
“He didn’t tell you?” You look up at him to find him staring into the wall. He shakes his head, glancing at your slightly blotchy face before looking down.
“He just told me you'd be here, but I figured.” Your body relaxes the tiniest bit. Good, at least you’re not an unannounced guest.
“She had a fight with her boyfriend.” You explain, more frustrated than understanding.
“Right.” He simply replies.
Both of you sit there, fixed on your spots, too aware of the other. Mingyu realizes you’ve stopped crying, maybe because you don’t want to cry in front of him, but at least your breaths became less deep than before.
A growl from your stomach reverberates through the room, and you flush in embarrassment.
“You can–” he coughs before continuing, “you’re here often, you can help yourself if you’re hungry, it’s no big deal.”
“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle, trying to conceal the humiliation, “but he said he didn’t have anything. That’s why we went out. And I can’t really cook, so.”
Never in the past weeks would you have thought you’d be sharing embarrassing details about you with your boyfriend’s cold roommate, but life has a funny way of turning things around.
“I’m sure that’s not true. There’s no way you can’t do the basics.” His body turns, now facing you as he takes an interest in your not so fun fact.
“I’m not lying! I can’t even make scrambled eggs.” You hide your face behind your hands, and you immediately hear Mingyu laughing as the dent beside you on the couch disappears.
“C’mon, I’ll teach you. I happen to be a great cook.” Your stomach growls again, and Mingyu looks back at you as he walks towards his kitchen, leaving you no choice but to follow him.
Mingyu’s not thinking about this exchange with you too much.
Yes, he’s doing exactly what he promised himself he wouldn’t, as this will inevitably make you both closer and he will not be able to turn back to his cold self again. But he couldn’t just go on with his day knowing you were having a bad one, and even worse, knowing you were crying because of his friend.
He had to do something, and if that something is becoming your friend for the afternoon, then so be it.
“Grab the egg carton with his name on it.” You chuckle as you follow his instructions, “and his milk too, why not.” If he left you stranded, the least you can do to get back at him is use his stuff and not Mingyu’s.
Between laughs and Mingyu indicating instructions like he was teaching a 5-year-old to cook, time passes, you forget why you were at the apartment in the first place, and you end up with a fine plate of scrambled eggs that doesn't taste bad at all.
“I told you it wasn’t that hard.” Mingyu sits in front of you on the rounded table as you share the food.
“Well, I’ll let you know if your teaching lasts until I have to cook alone.” You chuckle and avoid his stare, realizing your words sounded much friendlier than you intended.
Back in the living room, Mingyu’s ringtone disrupts your conversation, and his sigh alerts you that he might already know who’s calling. He gets up with another sigh, throwing you a knowing look before going to answer Jungkook’s call.
You appreciate his effort to make you feel better, and when he doesn’t ask Jungkook any questions over the phone, only replying with yeahs and okays to whatever he’s telling him, you understand that Jungkook’s not coming back, and whatever he’s telling Mingyu will just make you feel worse.
Before Mingyu comes back, you do the dishes that you used and get your stuff together. The decision to leave has already been made.
“Leaving already?” He appears at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning on the edge of the door like a statue.
“I know he’s not coming back. I’m sorry, I should’ve left earlier, I didn’t mean to be a bother.” It’s the first time you’ve addressed that feeling you have that you constantly bother him, and it’s kind of freeing.
“You’re not a bother.” A man of few words, Mingyu feels like he meant a lot more with that simple statement than just dismissing your apology.
His blank reply doesn’t feel forced, not like he only said what you wanted to hear. No. He said it automatically, not thinking much about it, and it took a heavy load off your shoulders.
“Still, I should–” You’re now standing right in front of him, looking up at his face as he doesn’t realize he’s in your way.
“Right, sorry.” Mingyu rushes to get out of your way, stumbling against his own feet as he walks backwards to go get his keys. “Do you need a ride? I could–”
“Oh, thank you, but it’s okay. I’m meeting a friend at a restaurant close by.” A warmness spreads on your cheeks at his offer. “Do you happen to know which way to go? It’s supposed to be a few blocks from here.”
To redirect his attention away from you, you show him the address of the restaurant on your phone screen. You frequent the neighborhood on a weekly basis, but the blocks tend to mix up, as the buildings look too similar to each other. Mingyu scratches the back of his neck, trying to remember the names of the streets around his place.
“I think it’s three blocks to the right, and then two to the left.” He doesn’t sound very convinced, but you trust you’d be able to tell if he’s sending you the wrong way, so you take his word.
Even after denying him, Mingyu still accompanies you downstairs, and you politely say goodbye to each other at the entrance before separating.
The sun sets on the horizon, the golden hue painting the streets beautifully as you walk. ‘Third block to the right, then turn left,’ you mentally repeat, trying to concentrate on the directions as well as you try to find a street sign that'll tell you if you’re going the right way.
As you reach the second block to the left, where Mingyu implied the restaurant should be at, your phone vibrates inside your purse. The unknown caller doesn’t give up while you contemplate whether to pick up or let it go to voice-mail, but something in the back of your mind urges you to answer. So you do.
“Who is this?” In case that another telemarketer got a hold of your phone number, you try to sound annoyed.
“It’s Mingyu, sorry,” his deep voice sounds the tiniest bit robotic due to the poor service, “I realized I sent you the wrong way. You have to turn right instead of left.”
“Oh,” you chuckle as your eyes read the street number you’re at, “thank you.” You don’t tell him you could’ve figured it out on your own, a tiny smile appearing on your face at his gesture.
“I should’ve warned you that I’m terrible with directions.” His breathy chuckle reaches your ear at the same time as a metal ruffling sound. Was he heading out to find you in case you didn’t pick up?
“No worries.” Your mind is blank, as the two things you’re most awkward at doing are getting combined in one: phone calls and talking to Mingyu. “How did you get my number?”
“I asked Jungkook for it just now.” That feels weird for some reason, but you toss that feeling away, trying not to overthink about it. “You okay?”
“Yep! Heading that way now! Thank you! Bye.” You abruptly hang up on him, the only way you thought to end the awkward conversation.
Your heart rate escalates, pumping hard like it’s about to beat out of your chest as you go the correct way now. Whatever you do, your mind still manages to replay what just happened over and over again, until you’re standing in front of the restaurant hostess.
Walking towards the table you see Nayeon sitting at, the idea of Mingyu having your number saved makes the back of your neck tingle with nervousness, and you can't shake the feeling even as you greet your friend and she starts telling you about her day.
Maybe you’re giving it way too much thought. It’s just the excitement of finally feeling like you’re growing closer to your boyfriend’s friends. Nothing more.
There's been a noticeable shift in the awkwardness of your “friendship" with Mingyu. You didn’t become best friends overnight, but at least he stopped fleeting away from you anytime you'd be over at their apartment, and wouldn’t deliberately choose the spot furthest from you at any group gathering.
As you and Jungkook step out of his car and walk over to the front door for the costume party a classmate of his was throwing, you can only take a deep breath and hope your extroverted self appears after a few drinks, and that Mingyu doesn’t decide he hates you again, because he’ll be the only other person you know at the party.
Not much of a partier yourself, you’re just trying, for him. Trying to join your boyfriend in what he likes, especially after he showed interest in you being there with him by inviting you.
The loud music can be heard even with the door closed, and Jungkook texts his friend to come pick them up, because ringing the bell clearly won’t do anything.
“Hi man! Sorry for making you both wait.” A tall blonde man who you’re sure is named Jackson welcomes you in, giving Jungkook a man hug before looking you up and down and asking. “What did you guys come as?”
“I’m a firefighter dude! And she’s...” Jungkook looks at you waiting for your answer, not even trying to remember the name of the character you’re dressed up as.
“Mavis, from Hotel Transylvania!” You smile as Jackson finally lets you in, and you can see in his expression that he has no idea who you’re talking about when you walk past him.
As soon as you cross the door, it is a relief to find Jungkook’s whole friend group there, sitting occupying the entire couch for themselves, only one big body missing from the ensemble.
Jungkook only takes his hand off you to greet his friends one by one, and makes them promise to save you seats while you go to the kitchen to find something to drink.
It hasn’t been long since the party started, but the crowded house is already filled with that dense air mixed with the smell of sweat, and the sticky bodies make it harder for you two to advance into the kitchen.
Part of you is relieved that Mingyu’s nowhere to be seen, if he’s even at the party. Sure, you’re getting along now, but being around him is still stiff and awkward. Maybe you can use this opportunity to try and get close to Jungkook’s other friends.
Sitting between him and other two strangers that squeezed themselves on the far end of the couch, that plan is quickly scrapped. It’s possible Jungkook doesn’t realize you’re too far away to be included in any conversation, he wouldn’t do it on purpose, but you have no will to tell him. Not when his body is fully turned away from you as he talks to Cathlyn and the guy she's dating, Yugyeom.
The music's too loud for their voices to travel backwards and let you hear, but judging by Jungkook’s menacing body next to yours, he doesn't seem to be liking the conversation. He didn't talk much about Yugyeom, that name being new to you as Jungkook’s hadn't even mentioned him before. And from what you know, he and Cathlyn have been having some problems for the past few weeks, so it's normal for her best friend to dislike him.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
Mingyu thinks of himself as somewhat of a good friend. Sure, he may have some faults and he fucks up every now and then, as everyone does, but whenever his friends need him, he’s there. He covers for Jungkook at school, listens to his girl problems as any friend would do, hates whoever he hates, and he’d never break that friendship over any random girl. That said, he’s still a man, and he has eyes.
When he comes back from the patio after catching up with some old friends he bumped into, he first lays eyes on the striking yellow costume Jungkook’s wearing. But as he follows the bright color, he sees you sitting by his friend's side, his arm wrapped around you but giving you no attention as you drink from an almost empty cup.
It's no surprise to him that Jungkook's too enthusiastically talking with Cathlyn instead of any other friend, or instead of dancing and enjoying the party. What shocks Mingyu is how blatantly he’s ignoring you, sitting so pretty by his side.
Yeah, Mingyu can admit he finds you pretty. He might be a good friend, but he’s not blind, and denying it would just make him stupid. Any guy with a brain should be lining up for a chance to talk to you, getting lucky to be the ones you spare a glance to. Instead, you’re sitting with an arm around you and being ignored by its owner. It could be that he’s gulping down his fourth drink already, but he might even go as far as saying you’re his type. But that’s about as far as it could possibly go. You’re pretty, nice, and in love with his best friend. Well, maybe not in love yet, but you like him enough to put up with his shit. And Mingyu’s not interested. He can’t be.
A smile forces itself on your face as your eyes catch his across the room. The most polite way to acknowledge his presence without trying to interact with him further.
Mingyu nods your way and drives his eyes elsewhere. It’s not like he wanted you to do anything else, and even if he wanted to go up and chat with you, he couldn’t have fit in between you and the people on your other side crushing your free arm.
So, he stays there, standing against a wall on the only free hallway –in which there aren’t any people because Jackson threatened anyone who dared to step within a two feet radius of his bedroom, watching the scene progress before his eyes.
Where his friend has a reputation of being a heartthrob, a player, or a heartbreaker, Mingyu’s always thought of as Jungkook’s serious and mean friend. A bad school reputation is the least of his priorities, and he doesn’t care to change how people he doesn’t care about think of him. It’s not like he’s not enjoying the party, he just prefers to stand alone and drink. If that paints him as a boring guy, so be it. He tries scanning the room to find a friend to catch up with, but it's pointless, only the bright yellow costume makes itself visible.
It's mostly a blur of bodies messily dancing to 2000’s pop songs inside that room, but Mingyu could recognize his best friend's silhouette if he was miles away and 90% blind. Your costume contrasts with Jungkook's in a way that even drunk Mingyu realizes it’s you who's being dragged onto the “dancefloor".
He sees you get loose as his friend's hands wrap around your waist and move your bodies in sync. It seems that every single light in the house is on despite it being a party, and you’re in the center of his line of sight, constantly and too easily catching his attention.
What he doesn’t see, however, are your constant complaints about dancing, appearing as flirty whispers to anyone who wasn't listening. And after he takes his eyes off of you two to find a glass of cold water, you’re back again to your original place on the couch, this time with much more space around you.
“Not much of a dancer?” His feet directed Mingyu to where you sat almost instinctively. There’s finally room to sit down so he’s going to take the opportunity before somebody else does.
“Only when I’m in the mood.” Your stare’s lost somewhere in the room, paying attention to your drunk boyfriend dancing with his best friend.
“I see.” You both sit awkwardly, body facing front and eyes focused on the same view.
“Cool costume, by the way. I love Hotel Transylvania.” Mingyu manages to fill in the gaps of the heavy silence.
“Thank you! You’re the only one that recognized me.” A small smile appears despite your bad mood.
“People here lack basic culture.” A simple joke followed by awkward laughs from the both of you, the atmosphere doesn’t help to ease the tension of your interaction.
“I wanted Jungkook to dress up as Johnny.” You have to stretch your neck to Mingyu’s side so he can hear you above the loud music.
“That would’ve been cute.” Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say. It’s been a common occurrence for him to go blank when talking to you.
“I guess he’s not a fan of matching costumes.” You try your best to continue the conversation, not really caring whether he’s interested or not. The little alcohol in your system won’t let you fall on an awkward silence again.
“He probably got tired of them after so many years.”
You freeze.
“What do you mean?”
Mingyu realizes he just fucked up. All those drinks he had before you came, and that one after, finally brought him to the stage where his mouth gets loose and he starts blurring out things he shouldn’t.
“Uh–, I mean, Cathlyn used to force him to do it for halloween.” Force.
For the record, Mingyu's not a liar. He might be loyal to his friend, not wanting to put him in bad situations, but he’s not going to go above and beyond to protect an already weak relationship. So, he picks a word that’s going to save Jungkook’s ass, but still saying part of the truth.
“Right.” If you caught on to his deliberate choice of words, you don’t show it to him.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
It’s pointless to get mad at your boyfriend for such a meaningless piece of information. Every relationship is different, and you shouldn’t be comparing yours to a much older one. Their bond’s just different! It doesn’t have anything to do with you if Jungkook didn’t want to do stupid matching costumes.
Still, you’re glad Mingyu slipped and gave away the truth, and you appreciate his effort to make it sound less bad.
Jungkook gives you no time to ponder on what to do though, as he stumbles his way back to you, so drunk he can’t regulate his strength and falls hard on the couch.
“My heead hit the back of the c-couch with my head.” Jungkook pouts and slurs his words.
“Ow, baby, you’re really drunk.” Mingyu’s eyes pierce through your back, and a wave of self-consciousness takes over you. “Should we go home?”
Jungkook’s cheeks feel warm in your hands as you try to get him to look at you, but his drunk mind can only concentrate on one thing at a time, and for the time being, his eyes are focused on Yugyeom’s hands groping Cathlyn's ass shamelessly as they dance.
“I don’t feel so good.” He only says, his drunk stare having a hard time straying away from that scene as he gets up and stumbles his way out the house.
Mingyu runs after Jungkook just behind you, and manages to catch him before he faceplants on the damp grass outside.
“Where did we leave my car?” Jungkook asks no one in particular, disoriented from his almost-fall. “Wait, you’re not my girlfriend!” His eyes go wide as he realizes who was helping him and tries to escape.
“I’m here, babe.” Before he manages to, you wrap your arm around his other shoulder, leaving him no choice but to be embraced by yours and Mingyu’s hold so he doesn’t hurt himself again.
Now that you’re outside, with no music blasting at full volume, no people around pushing you constantly, and breathing fresh air, you’re too aware of your surroundings. Or more specifically, how Mingyu’s arm and yours touch behind Jungkook’s back.
It's a weird way to break the ice of skin to skin contact in a friendship, but maybe it’s what you need to end the lingering awkwardness that surrounds your interactions once and for all.
“I saw you drinking.” You scold Mingyu after you two lay Jungkook down on the back seat and he turns to find his way back to his car.
“I’m not drunk anymore.” He mutters just before he trips with his own foot. “Okay. I’ll crash on the back seat for a while and then I’ll go home.”
“I’ll drive you.” Mingyu's silence as he thinks of a polite way to turn your offer down only eggs you further. “I’m going there anyways.”
“I-I wouldn’t want to take advantage.” He fiddles with his keys, avoiding your eyes.
“Of what? Me? His car?” Mingyu hesitates, the gears in his brain visibly turning.
“I don’t know.” It’s quiet, his response, and no matter how cute and defenseless he looks when he’s drunk, you don’t really have time to wait.
“I’m offering.” You deadpan, but try to flash a small smile so his drunk brain doesn’t understand your hurriedness as anger. “You’re clearly still drunk, c’mon, don’t make me have to drag you.”
Realizing there’s no way out of this other than listening to you, Mingyu caves in and gets on the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. “You wouldn’t be able to drag me anyways.”
Of course, you can't push an over six-foot-tall gym bro even if you use all possible bodily strength you have. "Hell yeah I can!” Your teasing stare meets his, and you know he got what he wanted by pushing your buttons.
"I’d love to see you try.”
An indescribable feeling completely shuts down the workings of every organ inside you. It could be what he said, but it’s just a common phrase to tease a friend. It could be his eyes that refuse to leave yours. Or it could be the silver of a smirk that appears as you hold your breath. Whatever it is, you push it down, hide it on the very back of your mind and put up ten walls to disguise as a simple and normal response to teasing.
“We should-”
“I don’t like him.” The drunken backseat passenger you had forgotten about interrupts you.
“Who?” The distraction allows you to break eye contact with Mingyu. A believable excuse to put a stop to whatever was happening.
“That guy she was with.” Jungkook looks like he’s talking to himself, his eyes closed as if he wanted to fall asleep and unaware of who he's actually talking to.
“Cathlyn? Her boyfriend?” Mingyu intercepts so you wouldn’t have to ask the awkward questions, already knowing where this conversation’s going. “Yugyeom?”
“Ugh, don't say his name.” Mingyu’s instinct tells him to see your reaction, to check if you realize what Jungkook means by all of this, and especially if it hurts you. “He has a douchebag face.”
You chuckle at his pouty statement, but deep down his words pierce a surface cut on your denying heart. It’s gone as fast as it came, but it was there, and your hands automatically started the car, urging you to start driving like nothing happened.
Ever since the evening started, Mingyu knew Jungkook wasn't going to have a good time. Not since opening the door to the bar that revealed Yugyeom there with Cathlyn.
“Why is he here?” Jungkook muttered under his breath, annoyed, on the verge of being angry.
“She's allowed to invite her boyfriend. Just like you invited your girlfriend.” Is all Mingyu replied.
Jungkook has been in his life ever since he can remember. When their first tooth fell out, when they schemed behind their parents to figure out if Santa was real, when he got his first bicycle and Jungkook laughed in his face when he fell and scraped his knee, when they met Cathlyn in high school and Jungkook’s eyes shined brighter than ever, when they went to prom and lost their virginities on the same night, and when they got accepted to the same college and joined the same classes. Every memory Mingyu has, it’s always Jungkook by his side. He can't mess with that peace, no matter how violently he wants to tell his friend to stop playing with girls’ hearts and realize he’ll be much happier if he owned up to his true feelings.
So, he resorts to trying to make Jungkook connect the dots himself by telling him harsh enough truths. It’s a work in progress.
In the few hours you’ve all been at the bar’s pool table, Mingyu hasn’t said a word. He's been sitting alone at one table on the side, seeing his friends sucking at playing and actually having fun.
With the excuse of being tired and simply enjoying watching each round, he took the opportunity to be temporarily invisible. With all of them busy, he can look at you all he wants, smile to himself when you miss your shot, and pretend to be drinking from his half empty glass.
There’s not much more he can do. Whatever he thinks he feels, whatever he thinks of you, it’s wrong. That’s why, at that moment, he prefers the loneliness of his table. The crude reality punishing him in real time is enough.
Doesn’t matter if you’re on the same team as Jungkook or not, your attention is always focused on him. You search for his touch, his eyes, crave his attention on you. But the more drunk his friend gets, the more competitive he gets, and the little patience he had with your lack of pool skills is quickly dissipating.
Another round finishes, with the both of you losing to Cathlyn and Yugyeom again, and it’s more than obvious that Jungkook’s annoyed. When your opponents excuse themselves to the bar to get more drinks, you try playing on your own and see an opportunity to try and get Jungkook in a good mood again.
“I swear I know where to hit it! My arms just won’t cooperate.” A chuckle escapes during your lighthearted shout.
Jungkook sighs at your missed shot, your pout having no effect as he’s trying to conceal his annoyance. “Which one are you thinking?” He only asks.
“The red one, close to the middle?” You point to it, waiting for any reaction, but he just waits for you to continue. “If I hit it a little to the right, I think it can go inside the left corner hole.” Bodily coordination may not be your strong suit, but you’ve played enough online pool that your brain’s trained to draw the imaginary angles.
The main idea was telling Jungkook your theory, him realizing you actually have an idea of how to play the game, and finally teaching you how to get a hold of the cue stick correctly.
“You have to do it like this.” Jungkook takes the cue from your hands and takes your place, ushering you to the side to watch as he takes the shot. “Your index and middle fingers serve to place the tip of the stick where you want it.”
“But I-” You were right, and the ball enters exactly where you said it would, but you can’t chant victory. Not when his attention shifts to a heated argument just meters away from you.
In the second it takes you to focus on what’s happening, your eyes land on Yugyeom stomping out of the bar, a crying Cathlyn left behind. You don’t even have to check if Jungkook’s still by your side, as he soon enough appears with an arm around her shoulders in an intent to console her.
When he starts getting the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and heads to walk out the door, you realize the comforting session won’t be quick. But why would it be? His best friend just had a screaming fight with her boyfriend in public. It makes total sense that he’d want to take her out to have some fresh air and a little more privacy than inside the full bar.
“If I knew the night would be like this, I would’ve stayed home resting for next week.” Your body falls on the chair next to where Mingyu’s been sitting in silence. His flat expression rapidly makes you uncomfortable, like you just crossed a line. “Shit, they’re your friends, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hav–”
“No, you’re right.” He interrupts you, with a tone that implies you must've taken the words right out of him. “I get having troubles, God knows I've seen them go through stuff, but we're allowed to be tired of it.”
Between his cold exterior and sometimes unfriendly choice of words, Mingyu's surprisingly capable of understanding other people's feelings.
“Has this been happening a lot recently?” You don't care to sound like a gossip. “Her fighting with her boyfriend, I mean.”
Mingyu sighs, eyes wandering to the door through which both of his friends just stepped out of. “Let’s just say, it’s been a regular occurrence.”
“Well, let’s not let other people’s problems ruin the fun.” You decide out loud. You’ve been having fun since you got here, regardless of your boyfriend’s bad mood, and you’re not going to let anything ruin your last night out before the busy week you have ahead. “Do you want another drink?” You down the last sip of what Jungkook was drinking.
“Oh, actually, I’m saving to pay for gas for the trip we have next week. I promised to drive, so.” Mingyu explains, too apologetic for simply refusing a drink. “You’re coming right? It’s a congress that our college’s doing.”
“Of course I’m coming,” maybe you should be offended that he doesn’t know, but it’s not his fault, “I’m the one giving the presentation.”
“Wait, seriously?” Mingyu’s eyes go wide, in slight shock as well as in embarrassment. “I knew you had a big thing coming up, but I didn’t think it was that! How did I not know?”
“Maybe Jungkook forgot to tell you. You know how he is…” Mingyu nods at your statement, but the answer brewing in his mind gets cut short by the glass door opening once again.
As if he was summoned, Jungkook re enters the bar alone, quickly lets you know he'll wait outside for Cathlyn's uber with her, and leaves again without sparing you another glance.
Silence fills the void between Mingyu and you, only murmurs from the people around the bar manage to make it not unbearable. Awkward again, you never seem to have a normal conversation with Mingyu without feeling some type of way. Jungkook interrupting seemingly added a layer of tension very hard to dissipate.
“I’m gonna… practice playing.” You aren’t the best at handling awkward silences, so you stand up with that excuse. “I’m so bad at it! I think the stick does the opposite of what I want on purpose.”
Mingyu chuckles behind you, following you to the pool table to watch up close. “You’re not that bad.” You look at him dead in the eyes, head tilting to the side with scepticism. “I’ve been watching you play! You just need to learn how to get into position correctly.”
Your arms cross in front of your chest, deciding if what Mingyu’s saying is in any way true, or if he’s just trying to make you feel better. He takes the cue laying on the table, accidentally knocking a few balls away from their places in the process.
“Show me how you’d do it.” As he hands the pool stick to you, warm smile and standing tall facing you, you feel secure he won’t tease you if you’re awful.
“Okay, but don’t you dare mock me.” The lighthearted threat makes him chuckle again, and your fingers tremble grabbing the stick from his hand. “This is my usual.”
You mentally cringe at yourself, but you push through it and lean your chest forward, hovering over the table, setting the tip of the stick between your fingers and analyzing which ball to hit.
“I see where things might go wrong.” His voice sounds closer with each word, but it's not enough to prepare you to feel his chest against your back, his arms embracing you to guide your hand where he wants to. “Your hand’s too close to the end of the stick. You’re not in full control of it.”
When he places his hand over yours, helping you slide it up the cue, you’re sure your whole body’s covered in goosebumps. Your heart accelerates to unimaginable speeds, about to jump out of your chest as Mingyu’s breath fans on the back of your neck.
“I think we can get the blue striped one,” your mouth blurts out faster than your brain can think, “If I manage to hit the white a little to the left, I can go right and push it into the middle hole.” You try to play off the unprecedented effects Mingyu has over you, forcing yourself to get your mind back in game mode.
He doesn’t let go of his hold on your hand, his arm grazing yours even more closely. “Are you sure? That one seems like a long shot.” You can hear his smirk through his teasing words.
“Just help me hit it there.” Your head turns just barely to the side, finding his face much closer than you imagined, and your eyes roll before going back to the table, trying to mask the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks. “I know I’m right.”
“Relax a bit. It’s close to the hole, so you don't need to hit it too hard.” Mingyu extends his other arm over the table, helping you position the tip to hit exactly where you told him to. You don't dare move, his cheek brushing against your temple freezing you in place momentarily.
When you feel his hands tighten over yours, taking control of the stick with your fingers tangling with his, your arms fall limp, letting him shoot the shot. With the tiniest push, the barest tense of his muscles all around you, both your arms move the cue forward and hit the white ball.
The both of you smile as the striped ball falls in the hole you said it would, relaxing against one another before realizing just how close you really are.
“I told you, I was right.” You chuckle away from him, using cue in your hands as a barrier.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted your skills.” Maybe it’s the drink he was stalling to finish until you approached him, but Mingyu’s more relaxed with you tonight, a little more prone to smiling than usual.
“Babe?” But Jungkook’s voice quickly wipes it off his face. “Let’s get going, wait for me outside.”
“Wait!” You get off Jungkook’s hold, almost offended that he thinks he can drag you away at his will. “I was finally getting a hang of it. Mingyu’s a better teacher than you, you know.” You try to joke to ease the suddenly tense atmosphere, but it doesn’t work.
“I’m really tired, babe. And I promised I’d take you home, so, please?” Jungkook retorts, face turned your way, but his eyes are on his roommate.
The staring contest between the two men doesn’t stop, an indecipherable friction you don’t really want to find out the meaning behind.
“O…kay,” there isn’t really an out where the three of you will be happy, so you just accept Jungkook’s petition to leave, “bye Mingyu.”
You walk away, your hand in the air wishing for Jungkook to take it and come after you.
Mingyu begins to grab his stuff, assuming the both of you will be quickly out the door by the time he’s done paying his tab, but it seems the night is not over for him yet.
Jungkook grabs him by the arm and turns him around so they’re face to face. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What the hell man?” Mingyu shoves the other’s hand away, a hunch telling him his friend’s anger has something to do with you.
“I leave for a minute and you’re all flirty with my girl.” Jungkook’s always been a jealous man, but Mingyu can’t help but sigh at the accusation.
Still, Mingyu can’t lie and say he wasn’t flirting. He can’t say he didn’t love the way you were blushing and squirming under him. And he can’t say that it wasn’t what he was looking for.
“I was entertaining her because you left.” He retaliates with a part of the truth. “It’s getting old man, you can’t just leave her to go after Cathlyn all the time.”
“You’re back with that again.” Jungkook throws his arms in the air, easily irritated by the topic. “You know what? I’m tired of this.” As the confrontation he was looking for didn’t turn out the way he wanted to, Jungkook begins walking away, “I’m leaving, we’re leaving.”
“You never want to talk about it, but you know it’s wrong.” Mingyu adds, a little louder this time. “You gotta stop.”
“Why are you so worried?” Getting more frustrated by the second, Jungkook barely turns, not fully facing Mingyu. “You never cared about it before.”
“C’mon man, I’ve always noticed.” How awful of a person he is. Accomplice to his best friend breaking girl after girl’s hearts, it’s true that he never cared this strongly about Jungkook’s extracurricular activities. Even though he always tried to make Jungkook realize the truth by himself, for his own good, Mingyu can admit, to himself at least, that now he has an added, selfish reason to want his friend’s behavior to come to an end.
“It’s my life. When I need an opinion, I’ll ask for it.” With that, Jungkook finally leaves, getting out the door to where you’re waiting in the cold.
Mingyu wasn’t done with the conversation. There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to say that it’s your life too. Jungkook's messed up feelings were affecting the people around him too, especially every girl he dates to forget. Especially you. But he just couldn’t keep pushing it, not without the truth coming to the light.
Mingyu’s reputation of being too serious, or even heartless sometimes, wasn't born out of nothing. He's aware of his resting bitch face, of the way he bolts in and out of class and the way he's never the first choice for group projects in the classes none of his friends attend. If he cared what other people thought of him, maybe it'd hurt. But he has enough friends, friends who like him the way he is, and doesn't go to college to expand his contact list.
Going to university, to him, was exclusively a way for him to learn more about his likes and interests. He goes to his classes and focuses maybe a little too much, but it’s how he lives his days, how the hours pass until he has to go to work. That is, until you came into his life unprovoked, and disorganized his sharp and efficient lifestyle.
He never crossed paths with you on campus before, and if he were to run into you after the first time he met you, he would've probably ignored you and scurried to his building like a flash. But today, he unconsciously looked around, hoping to catch even a glimpse of your figure coming out of your major’s building. He hoped you’d see him and smile at him as you walked his way to make useless small talk. But you didn’t, of course you didn't, and as soon as he sat down on his usual seat in his favorite class, he realized. He’s fucked.
For the first time in his life, the numbers on the chalkboard didn't make any sense, the words coming out of his favorite professor's mouth sounded like a mumble of pure nonsense. His mind couldn't focus, diving into the memory of your sweet smile next to his ear. Or the shivers your body graced him with as his hands purposely covered yours on the cue stick. His hand would grab his pen to try and write a single sentence, and the feeling of your fingers barely interlaced with his would overwhelm him.
What’s worse than pining after your best friend’s girl? As of the moment, Mingyu has no answer. There’s nothing he can really do either, besides accept you’re in a sort of happy relationship. He can’t take you aside and say ‘hey, you know your boyfriend? My friend? Yeah, so I have a theory that he might be in love with his girl best friend, sorry!’ Even thinking of doing so puts a bad taste in his mouth.
He's aware that, currently, he's at least top5 worst friends in the world. And he's not looking to end your relationship and get bumped up to the top1. It's decided. He'll just ignore whatever feelings are bubbling on the pit of his stomach until they disappear!
Easier said than done, because nothing he does seems to get you out of his mind. And the vivid reminder that he’s nothing more than someone you have to get along with is screaming at him everywhere around his home.
The four walls of his bedroom imprison him, suffocate him with the thought of you. He is a bad friend. He does want you. He does resent Jungkook for keeping you his. But if he broke up with you, would Mingyu ever see you again? Would he ever get the chance to see the heat visibly rushing to your cheeks as he walked closer to you?
Mingyu hates himself. He hates himself for getting turned on at the memory of your body heat against him, shivering at his closeness but not pulling away, letting him wrap himself around you, even if the both of you knew he shouldn't. He needs to drive his mind elsewhere.
Locking in to work in front of his computer, trying to scare away the sturdiness building up in his jeans, it might become the first time he wishes it was his day to go to the office. The front door of the apartment opens, rushed steps and messy, wet, breaths echoing against every thin wall that surrounds him. The reminder that what he deeply wants, it's not, and should never be his.
Working from home has never been so much of a curse.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
Jungkook grips at your sides, his body flushing against you and pressing you further into the couch. The near desperate way his lips roam over yours has you gasping for air, but he doesn’t relent, hands making a mess of your hair as he hopes you give him the satisfaction he craves for.
He grinds his hips against yours with determination, and you press against him trying to give him what he’s hopelessly looking for. But no matter what you do, he goes in for more, your bodies getting more and more out of sync.
You try to give him what he wants, emitting sounds of a satisfaction you're nowhere near feeling. His mouth moves to the side of your neck, leaving marks you're not sure you want.
The white door, now in your line of sight, calls for your attention. You shouldn’t be thinking about other people while you have a man in between your legs doing everything to feel any type of pleasure. But if the yellow light sneaking below the closed door alerts you of something, is that the person at the back of your mind is probably right there, behind the dangerously thin cardboard the architects of the building call a wall.
“Isn't Mingyu gonna hear?” The choked up question comes out in a whisper, in fear, in panic. And the mention of his name speeds up your heart rate far more than your current activity.
Jungkook barely cares about your worry. “He's gaming.”
You know gaming implies wearing noise canceling headphones and tuning out of the real world. But is he really?
“I don't know, babe, shouldn't we check?” It sounds stupid to even ask. Check? Knock on his door to very politely ask him if he can hear you having sex?
“He's not gonna hear,” Jungkook sighs, finally looking you in the eyes to answer, “and I wouldn't care if he did. He has to know you're mine.”
There's a speck of disdain behind his words, behind the weirdly possessive statement he just made. It leaves you more breathless than ever.
“What are you talking about?” You don't know what kind of egotistical manly fight they have going on, men friendships are not exactly your expertise, but it can't be about something you're aware of.
“Don't tell me you don't see it.” Jungkook hasn't gotten up from on top of you, but his hands on the sides of your waist tighten a bit more after your question.
“I don't know what you mean.” You chuckle in an intent to ease up the newly tense atmosphere. You didn’t mean to make it about him. “He's your friend, you shouldn't be jealous.”
“And you shouldn’t be talking about another man while you're under me.” Jungkook retorts, half angry, half still turned on. It's a weird mix. One that doesn't let you reply to correct yourself.
Jungkook lowers down to your mouth once again, kissing you fervently to make you forget about anyone else. And you decide to let go. He’s here, your bodies tangled together and your loose clothing crumbled up your torsos to feel each other’s skins. You shouldn’t doubt that, in that moment, he wants you.
You drift away into the feeling of his lips against yours, both hands cupping his jaw to relax the hurried pace he’s setting. His hands under your t-shirt feel good, like he knows what he’s doing, like he knows how women like to be touched, and it helps. It helps free your mind of everything else.
Still, you’re careful of the sounds that leave your lips. You let Jungkook’s tongue slip inside and dance with yours, muffling any soft moans you don’t get to restrain. He searches for something, his hips angling with yours to feel some kind of friction. If he keeps moving like that, you’ll be in the mood in no time.
A ringtone coming from the back pocket of Jungkook’s jeans disrupts the quiet setting. You stiffen under him, but he doesn't let his mood come down. You're grateful when he grabs his phone to decline the call and puts it on the end table in a rush, finding your body with his hands once again.
It's like, for the first time, he's prioritizing the time he planned to spend with you. He searches for your touch like nothing happened and you're the only thing he's thinking about.
“Just let it go to voice-mail.” Your hoarse voice surprises you, echoing over a new call. Jungkook doesn’t respond, not stopping the trail of kisses up your neck until your lips are against each other again.
But a call comes in again, and he groans against your mouth, trying to ignore it, letting the default ringtone soundtrack your activities until it stops on its own. It’s awkward, but he doesn’t stop kissing you and wraps your legs around him, trying to make you forget.
By the fourth call, you're both annoyed, and Jungkook reluctantly gets up from on top of you to check who's bothering him so much. The caller gives up just when he gets the phone in his hand, but from the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of him opening his texts. You don’t mean to spy on him, not wanting to be a controlling girlfriend that needs to know everything her boyfriend's doing, but it’d be nice to simply… get told.
The clicking sounds of his fingers typing on the small screen of his phone are about to send you straight to a mental hospital. Why's he typing so fast? So insistent? Is he mad? He's not telling you anything, as if he forgot he was just kissing you out of breath.
“Did something happen?” You dare ask, even if deep down, you know the answer is clear as day. You know who’s the only one capable of making him drop everything in a heartbeat. “Is Cathlyn okay?”
“She needs me.” Is all he replies. Cold. Decided.
“What do you mean?” The question manages to mask the anger brewing inside you. For now. But you need an explanation. How many times can you put up with the same situation until you blow up? He can’t expect you to be all right with being stood up constantly.
“Yugyeom broke up with her.” He explains without looking at you, like that’s enough of an excuse.
“She always needs you when you’re with me.” Bitterness bleeds through your mumble. It doesn’t feel good. You should understand that best friends need each other. But why are you never on the receiving end of his undivided attention?
“You can’t expect me not to care when she’s going through something. She’s my best friend. She goes first. Always.”
His words are like a bucket of ice water in the middle of winter. The explicit revelation that his priorities are carved on stone. There's silence as he realizes what he said, and neither of you dare speak up.
Your lungs expand but no air gets inside, and your throat threatens to close as your body prepares to start shedding tears. “Why make plans with me if you're just gonna sprint her way at any sign of trouble?” You can’t stop them. “You’re supposed to be with me.”
Tears cascade down your face, quiet sobs getting in the way of your pathetic pleads. Covering your face from the outside world, you shrink in place, giving in to the crying as Jungkook kneels in front of you.
“Baby, I'm sorry.” His now soft voice barely reaches you over your sobs. “I know I haven't been very present.”
“No, you haven't.” His hands carefully withdraw yours from your probably blotched face.
“I promise you,” Jungkook makes the effort to look you in the eyes, “after this, I’ll be better. I'll make it up to you.”
He tries. But you, convinced or not of his willingness to fulfill the promise, don't want him to leave. It's not about the fight, or the sex, or even him. If he leaves, it cements you as the second option. If it was about winners or losers, you'd lose.
“Stay.” It comes out so quiet you're afraid he didn't hear you.
But he did.
“I can't.”
Silence again. Deafening silence as you look at each other with different thoughts racing through your brains. He decided. There's nothing to be done.
Jungkook takes your hand in his and squeezes it tight in an attempt to bring you comfort. He thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks he'll be able to nurse his best friend's heart and then come running back to you after.
At your silence, he stands up, reaching for his coat hanging on the hallway before sparing you one last look and heading out.
The soft click of the door closing behind him breaks you a little more inside. The couch, no longer warm with the weight of two bodies, feels empty, too big for you to fill.
Bare, exposed, you let yourself be vulnerable only for him to cut you off and leave you there, with your feelings blurting out of you in the form of tears and sobs. The undecorated walls judge you as you cry your eyes out. Is there something you can do that’ll make him like you more? You already try so hard, you’re just not… her.
When the white door opens to reveal the other man of the house, you're not surprised. Of course he was there, and of course he heard everything. Your luck wouldn't let you escape this situation without throwing a more embarrassing one at your hands.
It took Mingyu all of two seconds to realize what was happening. His headphones in the grip of his hand are proof that he did not want to hear what you two were doing, he just didn’t get to put them on. He may be a bad friend, but he's not one to invade someone's privacy.
That's why it took him a bit more time to decide to step out of his room. Would you let him be there for you? Would you be too embarrassed? You shouldn’t be, he thinks. It’s not your fault.
At one point, he got used to Jungkook abandoning his fleeting girlfriends at the first notification from his best friend that popped up. Mingyu never did anything for the girls, and they usually left after a few minutes. Maybe that's why most of them didn't like him. He didn't care, and they always cut ties with everything Jungkook related after the break up, so why would he?
He shouldn't be doing anything. Caring that you're crying alone in the middle of his living room goes against every rule he imposed onto himself. He should be cleansing his mind of you, stepping away from the weird not-friendship you two developed and going back to focusing on the things that matter. He shouldn’t let you climb up that list.
But as soon as he heard his roommate standing up and leaving, the itch at the back of his brain started screaming at him to do something. How can he step back and do nothing? He can’t be indifferent this time. Unfortunately, he does care. Unfortunately, every sob and quiet sniffle tugs at his heart and urges him to be there for you, to come out and try to be there for you as best he can.
The sight of you, even if it's not something he hadn't seen before, breaks him. Making yourself as little as possible, with your clothes wrinkled and your hair a mess, you let him sit by your side, the cold couch caving under him as he settles at a good enough distance that he’s close enough to feel him beside you, but not sticking to your side inappropriately.
The silence with him is a more understanding one. It’s not the first time he’s seen you cry, but you don’t dare say anything. Is there even something to say? You didn't argue, Jungkook didn't run away angry at you, he didn't tell you he hates you and wishes you were somebody else, yet, you feel as if he did something worse. Empty yet full of self deprecating thoughts you wouldn't voice out to the best psychologist on the planet. You couldn’t tell Mingyu even if you wanted to.
A hand, warm and firm, places just above your knee. It’s soft, careful, an innocent touch to understand that he’s there for you. The gesture is oddly comforting, and you allow yourself to feel everything. The embarrassment, the disappointment, the hurt, knowing Mingyu won't judge you for it.
“It’s not your fault.” Mingyu claims, his voice overpowering your racing thoughts.
Maybe it’s the way he says it so sincerely, but you break down even more. Your hands cover your face once again, bending down until your forehead touches your knees. Mingyu’s hand frees itself from the cage you created. He’s definitely had enough of your crying for the night by now. He tried to help and you repay him by dropping half your weight onto his hand and continue crying? If he leaves too, you wouldn’t blame him.
But he doesn’t leave. Instead, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him. “He doesn’t deserve your tears.”
Your heart stops for a second, taking in your closeness and the reason behind it, and what he said about his close friend. Your head lays against Mingyu’s shoulder almost on its own, and he keeps you there, even if your tears start staining his shirt.
“He wasn’t like this before.” Your voice breaks trying to defend the you of the past, and the arm behind you stiffens before you feel his hand hold onto your other shoulder for comfort. “They warned me, and I didn’t listen.”
He shouldn’t be the one to tell you. Mingyu knows that. But you’re so broken, crumbling against him like there’s nothing else you can do, that he almost lets the truth slip out. It’s on the tip of his tongue, the thing that’ll break you even more. But he can’t allow himself to do it.
So, he stays silent, offering a place for you to let out all your feelings. Whatever you need to feel better, even if it’s just a little.
Mingyu doesn’t know how much time passes, or what you’re thinking, but he can feel how your breathing regulates with every second. Eventually, your sniffles become rarer and rarer, you straighten your posture and, unfortunately for him, step away from his hold.
“I’m sorry, I–” You can’t look him in the eyes, taken aback by the realization of what happened, guilt making you trip over your words, “I shouldn’t have–”
Getting up and gathering your things is the only thing you can think of doing. Whatever solace you found in his arms is now gone, replaced by an awkwardness you don’t know how to handle. Mingyu’s eyes bore holes on your back as you pick up your things that fell down when you first entered the apartment without care.
“It’s okay,” Mingyu’s gentle words help you relax, but the need to get out of the apartment is stronger. “You can stay, I don’t want you to leave while being upset.”
“I can’t be here, Mingyu.” You don’t mean to sound so hostile, but everywhere you look is a reminder of how pathetic you just were. It’s pushing you away.
“Is there anything I can do?” Mingyu hovers around you, not wanting to scare you away. He’ll do whatever you ask him to. “Anything.”
“I– I just want to be alone.” You walk yourself to the door, too tired to think about how you feel about everything that happened. Too busy to consider anything else. “I have to get ready for tomorrow.”
“Right, it’s tomorrow.” He’d forgotten about the college thing. Your college thing. He was so busy pretending to mind his own business and hiding from his feelings that he forgot you have your own life too. “You’re gonna do great.”
“Thank you…” Your hand rests on the door handle, hesitating leaving Mingyu after he helped you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your lips tight in the best smile you can manage, in an attempt to not seem mad at him.
“We’ll pick you up in the morning.” Mingyu announces, even if he knows you planned to come on your own.
“There’s no need for that.” You let out a sad, airy chuckle that squeezes Mingyu’s heart.
“No, We’ll–” he starts, but corrects himself, “I’ll pick you up. It’s not up to discussion. You, focus on resting.”
Mingyu takes the decision for you and opens the door himself, both of you ignoring the tingling at the touch of your hands. A quiet mumble goodbye is all you manage to say before going for the elevator. And Mingyu stays at the door until he’s sure the elevator’s going down.
The scorching mid-day sun heated the car so much you can’t rest against it. A few feet ahead, the guys stand in line at the convenience store at the gas station, with mainly energy drinks in hand and a few sandwiches. After driving the entire morning, everyone collectively decided to stop for a while for a bit of leg stretching and to recharge for more hours of driving.
It’s been a weird day from the start.
Mingyu picked you up like he promised, and even made sure you didn’t dare take an uber to their home by texting you they were on the way too early in the morning. You were about to open the uber app when he texted.
You barely got any sleep during the night, your brain switching from replaying the evening at Jungkook’s place and revising for the presentation. You rested so little, yet the usually soothing hum of the car isn’t helping you sleep, choosing to focus on everyone’s voice.
Since you opened your eyes, after tossing and turning all night, you didn’t let yourself think about anything that wasn’t the presentation. When to pause, how much to wave your hands in the air. It worked to an extent. But hearing Jungkook sitting by your side making the effort to talk to Cathlyn, who was sitting in the passenger seat while Mingyu was driving, almost made you go insane.
The only reason you’re alone waiting while the rest of them shop is because you insisted. No, you don’t need to go to the bathroom. No, you don’t want anything specific to eat. No, you don’t need to walk it out. Just in need of a little bit of peace. And Jungkook let you be. He’s been pretending nothing happened the previous night, and you’re glad he’s not forcing you to voice out your thoughts.
The bell above the store’s door chimes as everyone leaves altogether. Instinctively, you reach for the passenger’s door, as the idea was for Mingyu and Jungkook to switch seats so Mingyu can take a rest from driving, but a voice reaches you before you get the chance to open the car.
“Is it okay if I stay there?” Cathlyn runs over to you with a pack of chips in hand.
“Shotgun again?” Jungkook appears behind her, a sly smile on his face before he rounds the car to open the trunk.
She giggles at him but turns her attention back to you when she notices your silence and questioning look. “I’m sorry, I just get really dizzy in the backseat.”
Giving up on reality is easier than fighting it. You’re not going to be the one to deny the poor girl who just got broken up with. Sure, sit with your best friend, laugh with him and ignore the rest of the world outside your bubble. Who cares? “Sure, I don’t mind.”
The car is not that small, but with Cathlyn’s friend, who you didn’t know was coming on the trip until you were in front of the car on the street by your building, you end up between her and Mingyu in the backseat.
Feeling him by your side wakes up flashbacks from the previous night. But if before he was warm and comforting, he’s now rigid in place, looking out the window as the car gets back on the road. You don’t know what you expected, or why you feel a hint of disappointment at the pit of your stomach, but there’s nothing you can really do. You aren’t giving him many chances to be friendly with you either.
For a moment, you’re thankful for the cease in conversation, when Jungkook turns up the volume of the radio and random pop hits start entrancing everyone in the car into listening quietly. Cathlyn and her friend, who they call Mel, bob their heads to the song in sync without realizing, and it’s peaceful.
But then, the next song plays, and the two people sitting in the front part of the car collectively gasp. Mingyu shifts on your side, and you know he recognized what they did too.
“This is the song that–” Cathlyn starts, but they both laugh before she can finish explaining.
“He really hated you for that.” The only reason Jungkook’s eyes are on the road is because he’s driving, because if he weren’t, you’re sure he’d be laughing his ass off with Cathlyn.
“He hated me before too!” She slaps his shoulder before erupting into laughter again. “For no reason may I add.”
All three of you in the backseat just stare at them, listening, waiting for one of them to think of telling the anecdote. Your instincts want nothing more than to look at Mingyu, side eye him for a little help, but you fight them.
“What did you do?” Mel asks by your side, trying to get the attention from the party in the front.
“Our history teacher hated her in senior year.” Jungkook looks at Mel through the rear-view mirror. “She argued with him almost every day.”
“I can see her doing that.” While her friend chuckles at the bit of the story, Cathlyn still doesn’t turn around, almost exclusively laughing with Jungkook.
“And he threatened to fail me on the last test we had!”
“I keep telling you, there’s no way he would’ve done that.”
“It seemed like a very real threat to me.”
“So, you had to blast this song outside the classroom?”
“I had to make a show out of it!”
As they keep bickering about their senior year, leaving you out of the fun, the air around you becomes as awkward as ever. Mel’s laughing with them, the only one paying real attention to their jabs at each other. Mingyu, on the other hand, looks down as he plays with his fingers. You’re… bored.
The conversation you’re not a part of doesn’t interest you, the music’s no longer loud enough to help you take your mind off everything, and you have at least two more hours of agony.
So you focus on the cars on the road, the ones you pass, the ones that pass you, the grass, the animals, the farms, until your eyes finally close on their own.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
When you open your eyes again, the car’s slowing down, arriving at the motel that’ll house the five of you for the following days. It’s still bright outside, but the slightly orange tones in the sky and your stomach growling indicate the beginning of the evening.
A familiar hard surface below your temple holds your head in place. When exactly you fell asleep is the first question that pops up in your head. The second one answers itself quickly.
“We’re here.” Mingyu’s low voice accompanies his soft grip just above your knee, with a little reminder of the last time it was there.
As you lift your head and stretch your neck until it pops, it hits you. You fell asleep on Mingyu’s shoulder. A whole two hours where you bothered him, again. Made him take care of you, again.
“You should’ve woken me up.” Mingyu shakes his head at your intent of an apology, but you interrupt him before he speaks up, “I’m sure you were uncomfortable.”
“Really, I didn’t mind.” In the background, Cathlyn and Mel excuse themselves out of the car to look for their room in a rush. “I can wash all the drool off my shirt just fine.”
“I do not drool.” The way he chuckles compels you to join him. It’s easy, and the first time you even smiled in the day.
The door to the driver’s seat shuts closed with force, and both you and Mingyu scurry to get out of the car as soon as possible.
You don’t miss the way Jungkook studies you as he hands each of you your bags from the trunk. Cold as ice, he stays silent when Mingyu excuses himself to find their shared room.
“If your plan’s to make me jealous, that’s not gonna cut it.” Jungkook’s voice surprises you from behind, and the frown he wears on his face accompanies the angry tone.
“I didn’t plan anything.” He doesn’t speak to you the whole trip, and now he has the audacity to be mad at you? “But by the looks of it, whatever you think I did, it clearly worked.”
“Already looking for a rebound?” He follows behind you to the entrance of the motel.
“Jungkook, I don’t have time for this.”
You have hours and hours of practice ahead of you, and they might not be enough for your talk to be perfect. He knows the congress is a big deal to you, or at least he should. You can’t be thinking about anything else. Not about him. Not about your relationship with him. Not about Mingyu.
“Are you planning to break up with me?” You’ve never heard him talk like this before. He doesn’t sound hurt, just angry, jealous.
You scoff. “If you keep being an asshole, I might.” The answer blurts out without checking with your brain first. He didn’t expect you to say something back. You didn’t either.
“Fine.” Jungkook crosses his arms, waiting for you to say the words you’re not even sure you want to utter. “Do it.”
“Look, I can’t deal with this right now.” You take a deep breath, trying to think clearly, to not do anything impulsively. “You’re mad and I’m stressed. It’s not the best time.”
“Are you saying you’ll do it tomorrow?”
“What? I’m not saying anything, Jungkook, stop.” Your bag’s heavy on your shoulder as you rack your brain for anything to help you out of this. “Why don’t we take the night off, I’ll practice for tomorrow, you can relax after all the driving, and we’ll have a proper talk tomorrow. Okay?”
Jungkook huffs, mumbling something close to a ‘fine then, bye’ before storming off.
The back of your throat feels dry and hoarse from the hours of speech practice. How to modulate correctly, how to make your voice bigger. It takes a toll on you.
When you and your friends planned to do the finishing touches the night before the congress, none of you thought you’d be trapped in a tiny motel room for hours, tweaking the words to seem more professional, timing yourselves to fit in the 15 minute time slot, and even going as far as to plan when and how to look at the screen behind you.
Your stomach growls incessantly. You haven’t had anything to eat in hours, besides the simple dinner the three of you had after setting up in your rooms. Seeing every one of you is tired, the girls don’t stop you when you get up and leave the room in search of a vending machine.
Somehow, the balcony has better lighting than your hallway, and you spot a big vending machine just outside your hallway. Picking a snack is not hard when your tummy begs for anything, so you grab the random chip bag you picked and begin to head back when you hear a loud thud and a curse coming from the next hallway.
Judging by which hallway you’re walking into, and the sheer size of the person bending over in pain in front of their door, it’s Mingyu.
“Are you okay?” You rush to help him in any way you can.
Mingyu’s head shoots your way and he curses again. “Shit, it’s you, hi, yeah.” He grunts in between words and tries to stand up straight. “I closed the door right in my hand. It’s no big deal, really. Go rest for tomorrow.”
Even from afar, you could see the sweat stains on the back of his sleeveless t-shirt. His shallow breathing and sweat dripping down his hair and face welcome you as you reach him. It's a sight. His skin glistening under the white hallway lights catches your attention a second longer than it should before it goes back to the cause of his pain.
“You’re bleeding!” Taking a closer look at the hand he’s holding, you see a growing red bubble right under the ring finger’s nail. “Let’s get you inside.”
“You don’t have to–”
“Shut up and go put your hand under running cold water.” After he’s helped you so many times, the least you can do is google what to do when someone has a bubble of blood growing under their nail.
The empty room catches your attention as you read the quick answers your search pulled up. “Jungkook’s not here?”
Looking over to the open bathroom door, Mingyu’s hand is under the running tap like you instructed, but he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. He must know about the fight you two had.
“He went out with some friends that came here too.” He answers before giving up and drying his hand. “It’s not clearing out.”
You should be used to him sitting closely by your side. Your breath shouldn’t quicken and your hands shouldn’t sweat as the bed creaks below him. Actually, you need to stop getting into situations where Mingyu needs to sit beside you. But you can’t help it.
Maybe focusing on his minor injury can help your body relax. “Okay, so, google says it should go away on its own in like… two or three days.” Even if there’s so many questions you have for him that you avoided all day, it’s not the time.
“I'll have to stay with a blood bubble on my finger for days?” His threatening pout lifts your mood quickly.
You chuckle, taking his hand in yours once again. “Does it hurt?” Mingyu shakes his head with a small smile growing in his face, letting you have your way.
Now that he’s calmer than when you found him outside, his fingers relax in your hold as you look for any bruises. His hand that held you and comforted you one too many times, now being taken care of by you. Rushes of warm blood follow where your skin meets his, even the lightest of touches aren't free of his effect on you.
“Why didn’t you go with them?” Your mouth betrays you once again, voicing out your thoughts instead of getting through the silence. “Your friends.”
“Didn’t feel like it.” His answer is simple. And you wish it was enough to satiate your curiosity, but you simply can't stop asking questions.
“Nothing more?” You don't know what you expect him to answer. Maybe you're just looking for excuses to keep talking to him, to stay in the momentary bubble that surrounds you every time you’re with him.
“I haven't been… liking him much lately.”
Mingyu's careful with his choice of words. Still believing it’s not his place to talk about what goes on in Jungkook’s life, he can’t not be honest with you, not when you’re so close to him he’s sure you can read every expression on his face.
A drop of sweat drips down the side of his face, training your eyes to follow its way down until it dampens the side of his mouth.
“You're best friends.” A remainder, more to yourself than to him.
“Doesn't mean I have to agree with everything he does.”
Mingyu hopes you understand the meaning behind his words.
You hope he doesn't notice the way your eyes stayed too long on his moving lips before going back to his eyes.
You both hope for things you can't voice out, charging the little space between your stares with electricity. With his hand forgotten in your hold, reading his expression becomes your main task.
None of you dare move, and you know, somehow, that he's waiting for you to do something –anything. What you don't know is what you want.
Your phone chimes in your back pocket just when you part your lips to speak. There's a millisecond, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't watching Mingyu's gaze closely, where his eyes drift down your face. With your lips dry at his attention, you break the spell, letting go of his hand to reach for your phone.
Nayeon asks where you disappeared to, and sends a long chain of suspecting emojis when you tell her who you’re with.
“I–I have to get back.” Getting up from the weak motel bed in a flash, Mingyu's eyes follow you to the door. “Sorry for taking up your time.”
“You gotta stop with that.” He stops you in your tracks, with a soft grip on your wrist to turn you back to him.
“Stop talking like you're a bother.” He doesn't let you dismiss him. “You don't bother me. I wouldn't spend time with you if you did.”
“You didn't use to like me. And now you pity me, that's why you spend time with me.” Even if you'd like to believe otherwise.
“That's not true.” He doesn't let go of you, and you stop aiming to get out the door. “I don't pity you.”
“You never talked to me until you caught me crying that day.” Your head tilts, trying not to seem so serious with your counter argument.
Another text comes through your phone. You shouldn't be wasting time on such an important night. But is it really wasted time if you're spending it with him?
“It wasn't about you.” Mingyu reveals, but it doesn't really clear up your doubts. “I don't like getting to know people I'm not sure will stick around.”
“So, it's true.” You bring your arm out of his grip, a way to protect yourself. “I wasn't supposed to last this long.”
“Look. It's not my place, and I've already gotten too involved.” Mingyu's words fly over you, choosing not to overthink what he means. “Jungkook's shit is Jungkook’s shit, but you can decide what to do too. Don't wait for him to make a decision for you.”
“I'm capable of making my own decisions, Mingyu.” You say, convinced but weary of his tone.
“I know you are. He doesn't.”
The silence is striking, breathtaking, heartstopping. Words don't come up in your brain, an infinite echo of Mingyu's remark rendering you incapable of following a simple order.
“See you tomorrow.” You can only offer him a small smile before finally leaving the room full of him.
The applause almost breaks you down. You can finally take a deep breath. The thing you’ve been preparing for weeks, taking up most of your sleep time and raising the bar for how much stress you can handle, is finally done.
Well, not completely. Your speech is done, yes, but the time for questions begins. Jennie and Nayeon answer everything swiftly as your eyes scan the room for any known faces. You finished the presentation and you can barely catch your breath as your heart tries to slow down, so they take on the most annoying part of the job.
From across the room, behind the people eager to ask their questions with their hands in the air or attentively listen to your friends’ responses, the tall man only looking at you makes your heart stop.
Was he there the whole time? When you speak in a room full of people, you tend to disappear into your own mind, barely registering what surrounds you until your time’s up. He could've just got here, but deep down you know he didn’t. Deep down, you know he’s been there since the start, supporting you without your knowledge.
As a hand on your shoulder starts gently dragging you away from the stand, splitting the way between your connected stares, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. You're done, you can carry on with your life.
In the hallway just outside where you just spent the most stressful hours of your life, you can hear the next group beginning their presentation, one that luckily you’re not required to be present for. Perks of being in the line up.
Getting out the other door, Mingyu searches for you and finds you walking over to him with the biggest smile adorning your face.
“What did you think?” Your friends’ giggles make it to your ears from behind. Merging the constant teasing you’re the victim of with their infatuation with Mingyu is dangerous, but there really is only one thing in your mind now.
“You talked really well.” The highlight of every word as his eyebrows wiggle with confusion lights a warmth in your belly that spreads across your body into a chuckle.
“You didn’t understand a thing, did you?”
“I didn’t.” It’s his chuckle, and his smile, and his eyes glimmering, and his chin tilted down to get a better look at you.
Have you ever felt this way before? Easy under someone’s gaze, unafraid of making them feel less intelligent. He’s… genuinely happy for you. Out of all the presentations in the schedule, your subject matter was the least close to his field, yet he chose to listen to your sociology lesson.
“Thank you for coming.” You say before the magic fades. “You–you didn’t have to.”
“I didn’t want to miss it.” He’s the most genuine he can possibly be.
Mingyu undoubtedly, and selfishly, cares about you. From the sidelines, he saw you getting the opportunity, the toll the preparations were taking on you. He wasn’t going to skip one of the biggest moments of your life after seeing you struggle for so long.
“That makes one of you.” You don’t mean it to sound as spiteful, but the sour taste in your mouth as you realize who isn’t present triggers the resentful tone. “Anyway, I’m not gonna let some asshole ruin my day! We’re going to celebrate with the girls and some guys I have no idea how they managed to make friends with, do you want to come?”
Mingyu doesn't think about what you mean behind your invitation. “Sure, if you want me there.” He’d jump at any chance he got to spend time with you.
Ever since that night at the pool bar, Mingyu never forgot your willingness to not let one bad moment overshadow an otherwise enjoyable day. A quality he could learn from. That’s why, he also can’t forget about the moments he comforted you, when everything became so overwhelming you had no choice but to let it all out.
“Let’s go then!” Your hand aims to stretch back for him to take, but the little angel on your shoulder wins this round, and you just walk out the hall with Mingyu following you, hand hanging cold by your side.
The evening sky greets you on the outside world, and the fresh air filling your lungs after being trapped inside the suffocating new college is very welcomed by your body.
Following your friends wherever they go, letting them choose which bar or club to go celebrate, you can only smile and silently walk behind them. Mingyu’s towering presence occupies the space to your right. He’s also silent, admiring the new city, letting you have the unspeaking moment you need.
It’s not long before you’re getting into a club with flashing colored lights and loud pop music coming out of the speakers. The sense of accomplishment embodies you whole. One less thing to worry about, one less thing weighing you down. You won't let anyone take the freedom from you.
It’s a carefree night. You let yourself be dragged to the packed dance floor, your friends leading the way amidst all the bodies crowding as they dance out of sync.
Being drunk could never compare to the happiness you feel as you join everyone dancing. You allow the music to take over you, with your hips and limbs coordinating to the rhythm of each song playing, blending into the sea of people.
You don't know when, you don't care how, and with no will to stop, you and Mingyu drift towards each other, the little space and dim atmosphere making it easy to hide everything wrong with what you're doing.
“You're happy.” Mingyu leans down to say to your ear. The only way you could hear him over all the noise.
“I am!” You don't fight the smile growing in your lips, focusing on the way Mingyu's eyes scan your face under the blue lights.
This time, the battle between the little angel and the devil dictating your choices ends with the victory of the mischievous voice that tells you to inch closer to Mingyu.
With the excuse of the loud music, you stand on your tiptoes to reach the side of his face, your lips grazing his ear as you say, “I'm glad you came.”
His hands steady you in place before you lose your balance, holding onto your hips and keeping you in place.
You should swat his hands away. He should stand back from the girl who isn't his. The tension sizzles from the tip of his fingers barely dipping into a bit of uncovered skin and up your body until your chest tightens.
“I'm sure you'd want someone else here.” Even with the scandalous meaning behind his words, you don't ignore the light teasing tone he purposely uses.
“I'm not thinking about him right now.” His eyes search for yours, finding only truth in them.
The people surrounding you, unscrupulously dancing against each other and paying you no mind, sway your bodies from side to side. Neither of you make a move to separate, letting the pushing crowd be the excuse for your closeness. You have the urge to wrap your arms around his neck, but you fight it. Maybe if he was something else, you would.
But the universe would never let you be this careless without some karma waiting for you.
When your gaze reluctantly disconnects from Mingyu's in search for your friends, the sight of two familiar people catches your attention a few meters to the side. You should've known he was with her. That he'd choose her over you even for this.
They're just dancing, and you can't complain about it because you're currently in the arms of another man too. It's just… different.
Your hands find Mingyu's still on your sides, grabbing them softly to get them off you as your eyes go from the scene you just witnessed to him and then back. Of course, he gets it immediately.
“I can talk to him.” Mingyu has this instinct now, to shield you from having a bad time.
“No, I'll do it. I have a few things in mind to say.” While you appreciate him wanting to help, it’s something you have to do on your own. You can’t shield behind Mingyu any longer.
Making the sacrifice of looking like a psychotic girlfriend, the adrenaline moves your legs forward, no time to think further about what you’re about to do. They don’t see you coming, they probably didn’t even see you with Mingyu before, too sucked into their bubble to notice other people.
“Jungkook.” His shocked expression just confirms your theory. He notices you’re mad quickly, but the wheels turning in his mind, failing to find the reason for your anger, are so visible you can’t control your mouth. “Glad to see you’re having fun.”
“Hi, babe! I didn’t—see you come in!” He leans into the wall behind him for support, body as stiff as ever. “Having a good time?”
“Are you kidding me?” Admittedly, you’re raising your voice a few decibels over the necessary amount, but you’ve never cared less about drawing attention than at this moment. “You really forgot, huh?”
Only then, Jungkook realizes he messed up. It’s not normal to see you angry, especially not at him. “Let’s talk outside, okay? It’s quieter.”
You catch his eyes going back to Cathlyn before he places a hand on your lower back to direct you to the door. Astonishing, really.
“You could make it less obvious, at least.” The harsh cold night wind slaps you even more awake. “I’m not stupid, Jungkook.”
You’re not dressed to be standing outside on the street at this hour. The city’s too windy, making you shiver as if it was the middle of winter. You don’t want to look weak in Jungkook’s eyes, you need to look like you stand your ground. The cold is a mental state anyway, you can fight it.
“You’re not, babe, but what are you talking about? What are you doing here?” His cluelessness does everything but help his situation.
“We’re celebrating that our presentation was a success.” At the news, everything clicks in Jungkook’s mind.
“It was today.” Jungkook reminds himself out loud.
“Of course it was today! Why else do you think we drove all this way?” He has to be a special kind of disengaged and disinterested to selectively wipe his memory like this, you think.
“I’m sorry, baby! So much happened today, and I thought you didn’t want to see me after last night.”
“Don’t use one fight as an excuse. You forgot or you didn’t care. Either way, this was important to me and you didn’t come.”
People passing you on the street side eye the scene you’re making. Jungkook seems to care about being judged, taking in account the way his eyes widen at every raise of your voice.
At his silence, you keep going. “What did Cathlyn fucking need this time? What could have possibly been more important than your girlfriend?” It feels pathetic to call yourself that.
“You have to understand,” his voice becomes tense at the utterance of her name, “she’s my best friend. She means everything to me.”
You’re positive she’s listening to all of this. Hiding behind the club’s door waiting for the chance to come out and comfort her oh so dear best friend. It’s not her fault, but it’s hard not to grow an ill feeling thinking about her.
“Don’t I mean anything? Why get into a relationship with me if you won’t take it seriously? If you’re in love with someone else?”
It’s hard to form an articulated sentence when the anger and the sadness spar in your mind. It’s hard not to feel desperate, a pitiful attempt at making a careless man care about you.
Your gaze trains on the floor, tuning out Jungkook’s lame excuses and not truthful apologies. Without looking at him, and with only the grey sidewalk on sight, it’s like you can think clearly for the first time.
“I’m sorry, baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” It’s just a moment where you let his words register, and it’s the last thing you need to decide.
“No. You won’t.”
Jungkook shuts up instantly. Your gaze doesn’t falter this time, locking into his with your best poker face. You can see every thought passing through his mind, every little reaction he fights to show. He analyzes your expression, looking for another meaning, for any sign that you don’t mean what you said.
“I promise I will, baby, c’mon.”
The thing is, after so many promises, those words coming out of his mouth become meaningless. They’re just empty words he uses to get you to forgive him, he’s not being truthful, he’s just begging so he can feel better with himself.
“No! You won’t! That was your last chance.” It gets clearer and clearer to him what you’re saying.
You shouldn't have been silently enduring the scraps of his attention he was giving you. Waiting for your growing feelings to be reciprocated by someone who doesn’t respect you. Those feelings, however big or small —you’re not sure, quickly started dissipating at the realization that he simply didn’t care. It wasn’t his memory, or his busy schedule, it was the lack of intention. Care and intention he always showed to someone else.
“Babe…” He sounds like he gave up too, one last pity attempt you know he doesn’t mean.
“We’re done. You never wanted to be with me, and I certainly don’t want to be with you anymore.”
When you start walking away, Jungkook doesn’t stop you, standing where you left him with his eyes lost to the ghostly street.
Realizing the burden he’s been on your life and letting it go finally lets you see clearly. Your night might’ve been ruined, but you’re liberated from that pain. You’re not happy, but you’re not sad either, just walking forward, a new future ahead.
You’ve walked almost two whole blocks, the motel a half block away, when the sound of rushed steps chasing you alerts you. You didn’t think anyone would be coming after you, but you realize who it is right when the figure appears in your line of sight.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu’s breathless, slowing his pace to match yours. He definitely heard everything that happened.
“Yeah, I think so.” Even if you sound convinced, he stays walking with you.
“I’ll walk you inside.” He doesn’t look back, deciding on what to do. But you know he should be making sure his friend is okay. You guess he is, though.
“I'll be fine. You can stay with—”
“I want to make sure you’re okay.” Mingyu interrupts you before you can say the other’s name. “I don't care about him right now.”
Your heart stops for a moment before your brain catches up. All those times Jungkook left you and Mingyu came right to the rescue, when he got annoyed at them in the pool bar, or admitting he didn’t like what Jungkook was “choosing”. Of course he has to know how his best friend and roommate feels about everyone.
“You knew it all this time.” He doesn’t look at you, staring at the distance as he listens closely. “That he’s in love with her.”
“I didn't want to be the one to tell you.”
Your room door’s just one step away now, but you still stop in your tracks at his words. You never thought of his silence as his way to shield you from the truth. You never thought that the initial pity he took on you —even if he denies it, came from a place of hiding something from you.
“He was in love with somebody else while being with me! That’s the kind of thing you need to tell me!” Luckily, the hallway is completely deserted at this hour. You wouldn’t want to make another scene. You’re more aware of everything now, free but raw, as if anything could scar you.
“It wasn't my place!” For a second you understand Mingyu. Imagining him even implying it hurts more than realizing the truth yourself. But it still hurts. You trusted him with your most vulnerable moments, and all that time he hid that he knew the real cause for that pain. “And don't act like you didn't know it too.”
Mingyu’s harsh comment feels like a punch in the gut. There’s no malice in his tone, you’ve come to know him and his tendency to be too direct sometimes, it was just unexpected this time.
But he is right. There were signs everywhere for you to see, signs you turned a blind eye to. It was a thought that often crossed the back of your mind, but you dismissed it before you could think about it further. You were stupid to think you were paranoid and it meant nothing.
“Stop.” You realize you weren't looking at him and shoot your gaze up. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t blame yourself. He’s the asshole and you’re not at fault for believing him.”
“But I shouldn’t have. I thought I was smarter than that, turns out I’m just dumb.” You want to curl up in bed, hide from the judging outside world and forget all about Jungkook and the past few weeks. But not all of it.
“He’s the dumb one for not seeing how great you are.” Mingyu's hand on your shoulder manages to comfort you enough to hold off on the tears. “Are you okay? About breaking it off?”
“I know it was the right choice for me. But I have to assimilate it, I think. Sleep it off”
Mingyu nods in acknowledgement as your hand reaches for the doorknob. As if that was your way of ending the conversation, he turns his body to head out the grimy hallway, because he knows what’s next. You’ll cut off everything related to your now ex, a pack of memories in which he himself is included. This is why he shouldn’t have gotten involved with you. There’s no way you’ll want to be in touch with him after everything.
“Mingyu.” It’s your voice that makes him turn around. Even considering how heartbroken you must be, there’s a slight grin on your face as you think about what to say next. “I didn’t say I wanted to be alone.”
His heart accelerates as if it was miles ahead of the thought process his brain is having a hard time catching up with. Still, beyond whatever he wants and feels, he knows you need some time to think clearly, someone to be there for you regardless of feelings.
At his hesitation, you open the door and look back at him as you enter. It’s a clear invitation, one he accepts immediately.
After closing the door behind him, the unmade bed calls his name and he sits at the edge to take his shoes off as you begin your night routine in front of the bathroom mirror.
“I’m curious about something.” You look cute smothering moisturizing cream all across your face, Mingyu thinks. “Do you think she likes him back?”
He finds it in himself to chuckle. “Do you really want to talk about that right now?”
“Look, I won’t be sad about it if I can turn it into a gossip session later. It’s my way of getting over things, so please just indulge me this time.”
You’re looking at him as you tap your face with the pads of your fingers. Mingyu doesn’t see an ounce of sadness in your expression, instead, you’re very serious with what you’re asking. And he won’t argue with that logic, if that’s what it takes to help you forget and spend more time with you.
“She never told me anything.” Your half closed eyes and head turned to the side signal Mingyu to keep talking. “If he confessed, I think she could like him back. They already act like a couple anyway.”
Mingyu realizes he went too far. You don’t say anything, but your shoulders slouch before you grab your pajamas from the nightstand and lock yourself in the bathroom. That was definitely not what you wanted to hear. Shit.
“I hope they can finally realize they’re idiots.” When the door opens to reveal the loose but all too revealing clothes barely covering your body, Mingyu can almost hear all the air in his lungs escaping at once. “Are you getting in bed?”
Maybe it’s his mind playing sick games with him. You can’t possibly be asking him to slip under the covers with you and be calm about it. There’s a lot of things he can calmly face up to. The idea of laying down so close to the person who’s been making a mess of his every thought is not one of those.
Still, he follows suit with your not so indirect invite. He doesn’t want to make assumptions about you, about the situation, or about what you want, so he lets you take the lead for tonight. Trusting that you’ll show him what you need and believing that he can give it to you.
The both of you lay awkwardly side by side, facing the ceiling deep in thought. Only the breathing sounds and the way your arm grazes against his keep Mingyu’s senses in check. He feels like a highschooler having his first conversation with his crush. He can no longer be the cool, calm self he praised himself to be. So, he resorts to silence.
“Was he always like that? Ending relationships after realizing it’s not what he wants?” You turn in your place, facing him with those doe eyes of yours that always make him fold.
“If it makes you feel any better, I think it’s the girls that break up with him.” He mirrors your position, feeling better at the entire situation when he sees your smile at his comment.
“Good for them.”
There’s something in your gaze that makes Mingyu question if it’s worth it to be loyal to his friend. Though that moral code must’ve been broken already, there’s still a line, no matter how thin, he hasn’t crossed yet. Emphasis on ‘he’, because he can never be sure what’s your next move.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He dares to ask again.
Mingyu’s hyper aware of how close you are. How you shift a bit closer to him as you think your answer. He thought the clothes he was wearing were okay to sleep in, but his bodily temperature keeps rising at the thought of you.
“I still feel a bit stupid.” He can’t stand hearing you talk about yourself like that, but he doesn’t get to argue. You shut his mouth closed, placing your index finger on the center of his lips before he can utter a word. A touch so innocent he immediately feels bad at how electrifying it felt. “My friends warned me that his relationships never lasted. And I guess I wanted to see it for myself. Have the empirical data, if you will.”
He sees your gaze go down from his eyes, and your hand goes down with it to whatever caught your attention. He swallows hard, waiting for just one signal. The chain around his neck tugs at the back, and he realizes you’re inspecting the little charm hanging from it.
“It’s not like I was in love with him.” Every word you say feels like fire on his end. “He was fun at first. That’s what I liked about him.”
You play with Mingyu’s chain like it’s second nature. Like you don’t realize your hand’s dangerously close to his chest, about to feel the beating of his heart growing stronger each second.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” That makes your eyes go up again, eyelashes fluttering so close he could count each one of them.
“I get why you didn’t, you’re a good friend. And I think it was better for me to realize on my own, if that makes you feel any better.” The smile that grows on him matches yours perfectly.
“I don’t know how much of a good friend I am anymore.” The honesty slips out of him under your scanning stare. “I’m here after all, aren’t I?”
Mingyu should feel guilty. He left the bar to go after you without so much of a second thought, leaving his supposed best friend to deal with everything on his own. That’s how much he cares about you. His need for you overflows into every area of his life, making the guilt disappear into the stream of things that don’t matter. You’re not taken anymore. And, deep down, he knows Jungkook’s going to be fine. He doesn’t care about you even a fraction of how much Mingyu does.
He’s still deep in thought when he feels your hand going up the side of his jaw. Your icy fingers contrast against his fiery skin, driving him to lean into your touch. He’d close his eyes and let you do anything you wanted if it wasn’t for the intoxicating force of your gaze.
The irrational part of his brain doesn’t let him stop you as your face gets closer so his. You’re slowly testing the waters, seeing if he’ll back down, but Mingyu’s quicker, and leans down the last millimeters to finally connect.
Your lips melt against his with a soft sigh, and everything stills for a moment. Enveloped with the tenderness of your touch, he feels you hazily pressing further against him, unsurely yearning for more.
But the rational part of his brain, the one that tugs on the last strand of morale he has, retrieves his head from your electrifying kiss.
“We shouldn’t—” Mingyu regrets it instantly at the sight of your saddened eyes. But he knows it’s for the best. He couldn’t live with himself if you weren’t sure.
“You don’t want to?” The way your hand flies away from his personal space almost makes him take it and put it back where it belongs.
“I do.” He sounds desperate. He needs you to understand. “But you should see how you feel when you have a clear mind.”
A thousand thoughts rush through your mind, visibly turning your expression soft again. Mingyu offers his arm for you to lay on, the most outlandish peace offering he can make without losing his mind first.
“Okay.” Your soft voice reverberates up his arm as you lay your head on his relaxed bicep. “Do you want to leave?”
He couldn't begin to imagine any dimension in the multiverse where he'd choose to stay away from the featheriness of your skin against his. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I asked you first.” Your light chuckle heals the worry beginning to creep up on Mingyu. In the future, he'll make sure you never doubt him again.
“I don't want to leave.”
The way your smile keeps making a blank slate of his brain should worry Mingyu. But he's never felt this way before, and if there's a chance, however big or small, that you could feel the same way, he won't go back.
“And I want you to stay.”
The morning sun rays bleed through the flimsy curtain, illuminating the otherwise plain motel room in a golden light. You feel warm all around, wrapped in Mingyu’s arms instead of the bedsheets that sometime along the night seem to have fallen to the floor.
But even in the confinement of Mingyu’s backhug, you feel free. What has been dragging your spirit through the floor finally cut from your life. The previous night’s events faded to a distant memory as soon as you laid your head in Mingyu’s chest and drifted to the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.
You don’t dare turn in his hold, afraid to wake him up and make him face the day. That’s the one thing you haven’t been able to dust off since you opened your eyes. The guilt.
Maybe for you, cutting Jungkook out of your life was the best decision, but Mingyu was his friend first, and last night, for whatever reason, he chose you. He chose to comfort the whiny girl that dumped his boyfriend instead of his best friend since they were in the womb.
The morning with him feels like sunrises on the beach, like a warm cup of coffee on the coldest day, like being trapped in an infinite bear hug. It feels like hope. And the guilt from wanting it all could consume you whole just like the need for him.
Mingyu must have mind reading superpowers, because his arms tighten around you before the guilt overwhelms you, easily forgetting it all at the feeling of his breath on your neck.
Neither of you say anything, sharing the comfortable silence, relishing being in each other’s arms. You don’t stop him when he tangles his legs with yours, feeling him everywhere from head to toe. You let your hands caress his forearms as they drift dangerously close to your lower belly.
It’s wrong. It’s definitely wrong on some moral level. Borderline evil even. It’s too soon, and you need to understand what you’re feeling before moving forward with whatever this is. This that feels so nice, so right, but so wrong.
Mingyu doesn’t seem to be having the same moral dilemma that’s running around your mind anymore. The hardness you feel pressing against your inner thigh followed by a gasp that spreads goosebumps all across your back confirming your theory.
In the morning haze, in the limbo between days where time doesn’t run and actions don’t have consequences, you give into his infectious desire. The agreement you made the night before flying out the window as soon as a fire ignites all across your body.
You purposely grind against him, the indecent action causing your face to feel even warmer. A low moan gets caught in Mingyu’s throat at the feeling of your ass against his morning wood, one hand gripping your hip to keep you in place.
“What are you doing?” His raspy voice sends another fire down your body, making you squirm in his grip.
“Nothing.” You feign innocence, pretending to straighten your posture but ultimately pressing yourself harder against his chest. “You don't like it?”
The space between your bodies is crushed impossibly tighter until all you can feel are his muscles tensing in his search for you. The barrier you left standing the night before, demolished with little care as he sighs to your ear.
“It's not that, princess,” every bit of skin Mingyu touches works like a button to make you need him more and more, “we should wait.”
You'd agree with him if it wasn't for the elastic of your sleeping shorts stretching to fit his wandering hand. It’s a timid action, one that contradicts his words but only gets encouraged by your gasp. These aren’t the hands that held you close when you were broken, no, these are the ones that felt you shiver pretending to teach you to play pool, the ones that pushed you against him in the dimness of the club. The ones you crave with your whole body.
At your reaction, he drifts further down, playing with the hem of your panties so painfully slow the grip of your hand on his forearm grows stronger with each second he doesn't fully touch you. His lips graze your shoulder, trying to contain himself from kissing every inch he can reach.
When he flattens on your pelvis, pressing you against his faltering hips, you swear your whimper drives him to not so innocently thrust behind you. The room is impossibly hot, but you don’t care, nothing matters other than your need to feel him inside.
Your mouth opens, hoping to work enough to plead for him, but a loud knock on your door startles you both out of the embrace.
If the earth it’s going to swallow you at any point in life, you hope it’s right then and there. Your panties are uncomfortably sticky as your embarrassed gaze connects with Mingyu, the both of you speechless with guilt. The most awkward second ever before another knock echoes into the room.
“Tell Jennie I’ll be out in a second? I promised her we’d go out for breakfast together.”
The embarrassment doesn’t let you look at him a second longer before you lock yourself in the bathroom. Maybe a splash of cold water on your face can help you not look like you just got cockblocked.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
However Mingyu thought his morning would go, the reality was far from his imagination, though it felt far better. He wouldn't mind waking up next to you again, heating up your skin with his touch until you whimper for him.
The sight of you, just woken up and shy at the boldness of what you just did, puts a sheepish smirk on his face. He almost forgets the wrongness of everything. But the decision he made, selfish and long forgotten, quickly comes back to bite him in the ass as he opens the door.
“Wow, this is a nice sight!” Jungkook's face morphs into sarcastic shock as the door reveals a disheveled Mingyu.
“What are you doing here?” In all honesty, Mingyu didn’t think about his friend last night, deep down knowing he wasn’t going to be hurt for long.
“Are you her bodyguard now? I just want to talk about last night.” Jungkook attempts to take half a step into your room, but Mingyu immediately blocks the door.
“It’s not the time to get in my way, man.” The baseless threat doesn’t make Mingyu budge in the slightest, which pisses Jungkook off. The man’s eyes widen after scanning the state of the room. “Did you fuck her?”
“What?” Mingyu can't believe what he's hearing.
“I asked, Did. You. Fuck. Her?” Speaking each word with clenched teeth, Jungkook's voice bleeds anger.
“Why do you care?”
Jungkook barely lets him finish his question. “So you fucked her.”
The crude language puts a bitter taste in Mingyu's mouth. As if only the sex mattered and not everything else. Not that he comforted you at your weakest, that you opened up your heart to him, that you kissed him so softly he almost passed out. Mingyu can only hope the bathroom door miraculously becomes soundproof.
“Don't pretend to care about her now.” Never in his life has he talked to Jungkook this way, always afraid of what could happen to their friendship if he tried to put some sense into him. Then again, his actions never hurt someone Mingyu actually cared about.
“I bet you couldn’t wait for me to dump her.” The words spit out of Jungkook’s mouth like acid. “Eager to take on my leftovers.”
“Dude, I get that you're mad, but you're getting out of line.” The peacemaker in Mingyu takes over —it’s either that or a punch in the face, and tries to get his friend back in the hallway.
“I’m not mad!” He gasps with a hand to his chest. “Just shocked, that's all. Didn’t even let a day pass.” Venom coats every word he says, justifiably betrayed by the one friend he thought he could always count with.
“I didn’t mean for it to come to this,” Mingyu admits quietly, “I wasn’t supposed to care.”
There’s nothing as Jungkook processes those words. A tense second that becomes an infinite one, a void sucking every apology out of his mouth. Mingyu would pay millions to know what’s going on in his friend’s head. He could always tell what he was feeling even when he shut everyone off. But he was never the one causing his anger.
“I can g—”
“I’ll take the bus home with Cathy.” Is all Jungkook says.
His blank face waits for Mingyu to nod before walking away with no second thoughts. Out of the million outcomes he thought for this conversation, Mingyu never thought he’d be the one left speechless. But they both clearly need some time alone before going back to being roommates, before talking like two grown adults and resolving this.
It’s the sound of a door closing just meters behind him that takes him back to the room, your room.
Mingyu doesn’t know what to do to shield you from the hurt. He’s tired of simply being there to comfort you in the aftermath. He can’t stand the sight before him, your lips turn downwards trying to get a hold of your feelings. He can see it all, the process of all the emotions going through your brain, until your face settles to a serious expression.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Mingyu stays at the threshold of the door, not sure if you’d still want him as company.
“Don’t be. I’m glad I did.” You stay put in place, half a step from the messy bed, looking everywhere but at him. “At least I don’t have to feel guilty anymore.”
Guilt. That’s what he noticed when he gained consciousness and felt you tense in his hold. “About what happened earlier—”
“I’m sorry about that,” you interrupt him in his hesitation, “you said you didn’t want to and I crossed the line.”
“It’s not—” Your lips part in surprise as your eyes fly to his. “I—shit, I don’t want you to think I’m only being nice for something in return.”
“You should be glad I don’t think of you that way.” It’s a weird feel of rejection, the one in your heart as you start picking up your things. A man says he doesn’t want to have sex after rubbing himself against you and fighting with your ex boyfriend. “We should pack, get ready to leave.”
“What do you think of me then?”
Mingyu standing leaning against the doorframe, following your every move with his eyes, makes you stumble upon every possible obstacle on your way. Even with your gaze elsewhere, you can feel him watching your every move.
“I think you’re a good man that lacks a sense of urgency.” Unfortunately, you didn’t bring much stuff on the trip, and you’re getting to the end of things to take your mind off of Mingyu. “Are you going to stare at me all day?”
“I like you.” Mingyu’s sure about a lot of things, but at the weight lifting from his shoulders, the way you stop at his words and how you wait for him to continue, he’s certain he’s never felt like this before. “I’m sorry if that's weird and wrong to say, but I do.”
“I—” There’s no way to describe it, how your mind clears of any reasonable thought the second those words escape Mingyu’s lips.
“You don’t have to say anything. Like I said last night, I want you to figure out how you feel on your own time. I’ll be here, you can count on me. I’m not going anywhere.”
His assurance helps. He somehow always knows how to help you, what to say, how to act.
Before you know it, you’re face to face with him, his warmth embracing you as he tilts his head down, waiting for your next move. Your cheek lays softly on his chest after wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tightly, the only way you have to express your gratitude.
Warm air effortlessly fills your lungs, the scent of him coating every one of your senses as he replicates your hug. His arms feel right around you, as if you were meant to be like this forever, and you relax in his hold.
“Thank you.” Two simple words that mean so much more are the only thing you manage to utter, hoping he'll understand.
“Always.”
Some girls my friends met at the congress came to town and begged for us to take them to a club
Do you want to come? It’s close to my place
As soon as you press send, you throw your phone at your bed on the other side of the room.
It’s been two weeks since the most eventful weekend of your life. Two weeks since you finally stood up for yourself and chose your well being for once. Two weeks since Mingyu started being one of the most important parts of your everyday life.
Those afternoons when he made you wonder if you actually fit in his friend’s life, when the thought of him would cause you an immediate headache, feel like a ghost of the past. You couldn’t imagine not being around him now, not receiving his ominous texts in the middle of the night after he finishes a random project for college that you don’t understand, or not seeing his face after class when he picks you up and rambles about how good his class was that day.
He promised he’d be there for you, waiting for you to see how you feel about him without expecting anything in return. And every day that passes, the hurt and confusion fades away bit by bit, and a new, stronger, unexplored, feeling grows in your heart.
You don’t know what compelled you to invite Mingyu out of nowhere. You’re fully dressed, about to leave and with your friends already waiting on your building’s front door, but something at the back of your mind itched with a potent need to see him. Your fingers clicked on his contact and texted him before you could realize what you were doing.
It’s not two minutes later that your phone vibrates with a new notification. Your skin crawls with the combined anxiety of wanting to see him but also not wanting to see him at all. The usual two feelings that fight to take over every time you think of him.
You’re quick to run out your apartment before your friends come up and drag you out themselves. With your unlocked phone in hand, Mingyu’s name lights up your screen.
Sure. Text me address.
I’ll meet you there.
The simplicity of his texts always makes you chuckle, embarrassingly smitten by his short sentences. You quickly text him the name and address before hopping off the elevator and joining your friends in the cold weather in which you’re not meant to be wearing the club clothing you chose.
You’d be a liar if you didn’t admit you were nervous to see Mingyu. The change came without warning. After getting used to him checking up on you, learning your coffee order and your class schedule, the anticipation started taking over you. Your eyes look for him around campus, your feet flee out of your classroom knowing he’s going to be there waiting for you.
You try to distract yourself when you get too in your mind about it, about him. It’s a difficult new kind of occurrence you’re not sure how to navigate, so you resort to acting nonchalant about it. That’s why, when he arrives and your friends make eyes at you, you don’t let the subject go further than admitting you invited him. It’s a normal thing for people to invite their friends to hang out!
But no matter how hard you try, your eyes don’t stop wandering to the bar, where Mingyu’s forgotten his quest to get another round of drinks and is talking to the most graceful and gorgeous woman alive.
Of course, Mingyu chose tonight of all nights to look like a prince coming to the rescue. A fitted black shirt that even with the lack of light inside the club managed to highlight his build. You almost fainted when he locked eyes with you across the room and smiled walking all the way to you.
And you’d caught that girl’s eyes glued to him when he first entered the club and greeted you all. As soon as he took one step away from you to walk to the bar, the girl unhooked herself from your group and followed him.
“I wonder what’s taking so long with the drinks," You’re barely processing your words as they leave your mouth. As if you haven’t been policing the interaction since it started.
“Yeah, did he…” Jennie’s voice trails out before she can finish, following the line of sight you basically burned in the air after so many stares. A small smirk flashes through her before she mumbles, “Oh.”
Now there’s four more pairs of eyes witnessing why you’re making a fool out of yourself.
“Guess he found something else to do.” Still digging your own grave, you can’t stop making stupid comments.
Jennie and Nayeon exchange a look you’re too busy to catch, while you make sure your empty drink is still… empty. Yeah, the very interesting plastic cup in your hand. Definitely the most interesting sight you can be staring at. The cheap cocktail you thought could ease out the anxiety, and now that the little effect it had left your body, all you can do is laugh at yourself.
“Who is she anyway?” You didn’t even catch her name before she jumped at the chance to get Mingyu alone.
“We presented right after her.” Your friend’s voice barely reaches you over the loud music, and on top of that, you don’t really care to know much about her anyway.
“Right…”
It’s not a big deal. What else did you expect? That he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you like the last time you were in a club together? That you’d feel him all around you again as he felt you up with everyone watching? Stupid. You got too comfortable, took him for granted, and he got tired.
“Are you okay?” Nayeon materializes by your side, her hand on your arm steering your eyes back to her.
“He can do whatever he wants! I really don’t care.” Seeing how they can always tell what’s going on with you, of course they read through the lines.
The other two girls you came with look confused before they dare to speak up.
“We tried telling her that he was off limits," One says as the other confesses, “We thought you two were together.”
The girls’ confusion only fuels yours. You really didn’t want to think about it further before, just in case, but it gets you wondering. “W—why would you think that?”
“We just saw you talking after you presented," The blonde one giggles before her friend adds. “You guys looked cute!”
How did they get to that conclusion after the simplest interaction? Were you that obviously nervous? Was the prickling of your skin visible when he stood too close by your side? It’s become the norm for you two to act this way, the invisible skinship boundary long broken.
Deep down, you know there’s no reason to doubt him. You want to be weary of him, find one single flaw to use as an excuse to not like him, but it’s pointless. Mingyu’s never proven to be anything other than supportive. He’s been so patient with you, the deeper feelings for him developed almost on their own. No warning.
Even before breaking up with Jungkook, Mingyu was always present. Since that first day he found you crying, he made sure you had company, made sure you didn’t get too in your head and helped you have a good time. He was there for you before you even realized you needed it.
You took him for granted for too long, and now he has a pretty girl in front of him showing clear signs of attraction, all while you get scared texting him.
You've been so stupid, so blind to what you had in front of you, that now you're losing it, seeing it disappearing from your life with your own eyes.
The charged stares you've been sparing them must've made their way into Mingyu’s sixth sense, because he finally unglues his eyes from the girl and connects them with yours. You know you have no right to be jealous, you two are nothing, just two people with a very complicated relationship.
As if he knew everything going through your mind, Mingyu smirks your way. He fucking smirks. The twist of his lips cause a chain reaction from your hanging jaw down to your insides becoming a roller coaster. You barely hear your friends saying they’re going to the restroom, choosing to stay and challenge Mingyu.
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
When he got your text inviting him out, Mingyu was sitting on the couch that had seen it all happen. Jungkook, just beside him, easily took a peek at the notification that lit up his friend's mood.
“Is that her?”
Even if they’ve resolved the bad blood between them, Mingyu couldn’t help to hide the reality of his feelings from Jungkook. “Yeah," He told him after replying to your text.
Mingyu could count with one hand the few times you had dared to text him first these past few weeks. Seeing your name pop up, inviting him out, was thrilling.
It's been no secret that every time Mingyu disappeared to go somewhere unannounced, he was going with you. Jungkook knew it, but it was time he encouraged it.
“Dude, if you like each other, I'm not looking to get in between," Jungkook assured with his eyes back to the tv in front of them.
“Isn’t it weird?” Mingyu tested the waters, checking if he was hallucinating the support.
“It’s only weird if you make it weird," Jungkook shrugged, as if it were that simple.
The situation is weird. And maybe it will always be weird.
Mingyu started making up this fantasy in his head, where, in the future, you’ve finally let him in and he can love you the way you deserve. One where you can look back at the past and laugh with that blinding toothy smile of yours, with all the hurt being just a distant memory. But before you two get to that point, Mingyu will make sure nothing gets in the way of your happiness ever again. And he foolishly hopes you find it with him.
“Is she okay?” Jungkook’s question took Mingyu out of his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking if I should apologize or not.”
“She’s fine,” at that moment, Mingyu realized that maybe his best friend is better at hiding how he feels than he thought, “but an apology wouldn’t hurt.”
Having long conversations was never their strong suit, so the topic ended there, with Jungkook deep in thought and Mingyu getting up to change clothes.
Something drove him to try and be more presentable for you. The last time you two went to a club together, he almost gave up everything right then and there. Now that there are no barriers between the two of you, he won’t hold back at your advances, he won’t freeze if you dance close to him. At least that was his initial goal.
When he arrived at the club, Mingyu had to pause as soon as he saw you across the room. The smile you showed your friend after something she said illuminated the whole room, leaving nothing else in front of his eyes but you.
He greeted all your friends as politely as he could without straying his eyes off you. His hand traveled itself onto the small of your back, keeping you intoxicatingly close to him as best he could. And he didn’t want to leave your side, but maybe breathing an air free of your perfume would help him think clearly, he thought.
Talking to one of the girls you were with, Mingyu partly feels bad for already forgetting her name. The overworked bartender’s taking too long to prepare all the drinks, and he has no other choice than to entertain the girl.
Answering her questions gets harder and harder with the music blasting, and as she places her hand on his arm to get closer to him, Mingyu can feel the interaction being under someone’s scrutinizing eyes.
Is this all in his head? Are you really standing with your arms crossed and the cutest frown ever on your forehead, almost killing the girl in front of him with your stare? The corner of his mouth lifts autonomously at the thought of you not liking him flirting with another person.
He hasn’t seen this side of you, the jealous and slightly possessive one. And even if you’re nothing more than friends, he loves it. He loves the way you squint when you lock eyes, how you shrug when he doesn’t back down. It’s easy for him to excuse himself and walk towards you again.
At the sight of him, you turn your back on Mingyu, pretending to be dancing alone. So, he has no other choice but to stand behind you and ask in your ear. “Something on your mind?”
Your back tenses against his chest, but you don’t move away, allowing Mingyu to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you close. With your friends suddenly nowhere in sight, he interlocks your fingers while in his hold, helping you relax even if you’re still pretending to be mad.
“You took your time.” The initially suffocating sea of people now feels protective, working like a barrier between your bodies pressed tightly together and the outside world. “Having fun?”
“I am now," Mingyu’s lips graze the side of your face as they lit up in another smirk, growing goosebumps all across your body. “How about you?”
Somehow, being like this doesn’t feel weird. You’ve had Mingyu’s arms wrapped around you so many times now that they easily mold to your figure. There really is only one difference, one that none of you dare speak up but washes over your every interaction.
“I was thinking of going home already.” You look down at your hands tangled in one, fearing that Mingyu can notice at any time how butterflies erupt in your stomach at every word he purrs right in your ear. “Not much to do here.”
“I can take you," His choice of words halts your breath, but you remember.
Untangling Mingyu’s hands from yours, you turn around in his arms to face him, regretting instantly as soon as your eyes connect again.
“You should stay. You looked like you were having fun.” That makes Mingyu chuckle, and an embarrassed warmness bursts inside you at the sound.
“I didn’t think you were the jealous type, princess.” And you didn’t think he was the type to tease you in public, but life takes you to unthinkable roads sometimes.
You scoff as an excuse to take your eyes off him for a second. “Jealous, huh? You’re funny.”
In an intent to get away from his menacingly broad body, your hands take the unconscious decision to push his chest away. But you don’t have the true will to do it, or the strength. He’s too big, too muscly for you to move, and he traps your hands against him, against the sheerest shirt ever that lets you feel every muscle tense under your touch.
“I’d like to think I can make a girl laugh sometimes.” He’s all you can see, covering every spot in your vision with his unerasable teasing smirk.
“Yeah, I saw that.” At the roll of your eyes, there’s no denying that you’re jealous anymore. Do you really care if he knows anyway?
“Oh, you did? Controlling.”
“I’m not controlling! You can do whatever you want, I won’t get in your way.” If he wants to flirt with an emotionally available girl after the infinite amount of time he waited for you, you can’t stop him. You’ll take your feelings to the grave.
Something brews in Mingyu’s mind at your rebuttal. “You won’t?”
“No.”
For the first time in forever, Mingyu willingly unclasps one of his hands from yours, “And if I do this?”
Mingyu’s fingers creep up your neck and get a hold of your chin, titling it up until you have no other choice but to look him in the eye. He waits for your answer, as if you’d ever say no. As soon as you nod, giving him the okay, another smirk is the only warning you get.
Your lips, meant to be pressed against his forever, part with a sigh as Mingyu's arms wrap around your waist. The world around you, with frantic music and people moving at lightspeed, fades to nothing in his embrace. You move along Mingyu’s soft lips naturally, letting your heart convey your feelings through the kiss.
The memory of that last kiss you dared give him all those days ago can’t compare to this one. There’s no hesitation this time, no guilt restraining you from following your true desire. Nothing outside your bubble really matters as your hands travel up his chest to keep his head in place.
His hair feels soft between your fingers as you push yourselves together closer and closer. You never want anything else in life, just kissing and kissing Mingyu until your lungs give out. It’s unfortunate that you can’t.
“Let me take you home," He gasps with your lips just millimeters away.
Your stomach twists and turns with anticipation. “Okay,” barely a whisper accompanies your nod, fearing the way your voice could come out if you said more.
With his hand in yours, walking the moonlit streets in swift steps and giggles, any worries you had slip away with the wind. The feeling of his lips linger on yours every second it passes, every breath you take, every step forward until you stop at an intersection and Mingyu pulls you into him again.
The walk blends between kisses and hand squeezes to check if you’re in a dream or not. You never want to back away from his hold ever again, but as your building materializes in front of you, you're forced to take your hand off the hem of his shirt.
The elevator’s wall hits your back as soon as the automatic doors let you in, barely giving you time to push your floor’s button before Mingyu’s over you again. His mouth takes yours with a hunger that grows every second you’re not inside your apartment. He’s losing control, succumbing to his desires the more you show your want for him.
By some way, your tangled bodies manage to reach your door, though Mingyu’s hands refusing to stop going over your hips and waist are the challenge to overcome. Your fingers tremble trying to turn the key the right way, your nervous system focusing on the lips kissing every inch of the side of your neck he can reach and his fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your top.
As soon as you close the door behind you, the reality closes in on you. With Mingyu’s arms wrapping around your waist again, the bag you forgot you were holding dropping onto the floor with a thud, and the bright lights in your apartment making everything clear.
Mingyu notices your sudden hesitation and stands before you, worried eyes studying you, looking for any sign to tell him what's happening in your mind.
“I made you get in a fight with your best friend," Your reminder is like a dagger against the silence.
“Is that what's bothering you?” His eyes find yours and understand immediately. “We're fine,” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “he actually encouraged me to come tonight.”
Your eyes widen with hope, leaning into his touch when he doesn't retrieve his hand from the side of your face. “Did you guys—”
“We talked,” Mingyu's voice explains so softly, one wouldn't think he was just making you gasp with that same mouth on yours, “and I told him he should apologize to you.”
Standing in the middle of your entrance hallway, you feel stupid for even bringing that up. He wouldn't be here with you if he felt guilty. He wouldn't be cupping your face in his hands, making you look up to him to find the glimmer in his eyes outshining every light source in the room.
“And you’re sure about this?” What ‘this’ means, you’re not sure either.
“I've never been more sure about anything.” Your breath hitches at his answer, your body noticeably frozen as you look for a non-existent lie in his eyes. “Maybe we should take things slow, let you figure out what you want.”
Before he can back away from your personal space, you react. “No, no, I want this too. I want you.”
Those words coming out of your mouth combined with your hands gripping his shirt to keep him in place quickly make Mingyu regret his previous statement. You're so close, too close to him, saying you want him with your eyes dark and wide.
Mingyu’s hands stay on you, caressing the side of your face as if he was debating whether to give in and kiss you again or do the rational thing. Yours, instead, find the first button at the end of the all too well fitting shirt Mingyu’s wearing, and start unbuttoning it one by one.
“I should take you out on a real date first," Mingyu maintains with a sigh, but not stopping you in your quest.
“I personally think,” at his unmoving body, you take a step closer, with your hands against his chest not daring to sneak under the welcoming fabric, “we’re past that, don’t you think?”
For a second, Mingyu thinks you’ll be able to feel the rapid beating of his heart, stronger with each second your hands lay on his chest. Rationality is losing the fight against his desire.
“Just making sure this isn’t a rebound situation,” Mingyu blurts, even if he doesn’t really care about it for himself. He’d take whatever you give him.
“You aren’t a rebound. This isn’t a revenge plot.” You think for a second before you continue, “You saw me cry way too many times and were there for me at my weakest. You make me feel seen, wanted, and getting to know you has made my life better in ways I could’ve never imagined.”
Your words go through Mingyu's ears and right into his bloodstream, getting warmer and warmer the closer you get. His hands go down your body, encouraging you to move forward until your chests touch.
“I needed you even before I knew what I needed.” You can sense the tears beginning to build up, but you push through. He has to know. “I know what I want now, and it’s you.”
“If this is a dream, I never wanna wake up,” every word Mingyu says comes with a widening smile.
You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck with confidence, “I can assure you, it's not.”
As if you've been getting chased by your feelings all this time, putting it into words and letting it all out works, and your brain stops racing. You can finally breathe, think, see.
“So, was that a no about the date?” As always, Mingyu manages to make you chuckle again, and it reverberates all across both your bodies. Every shiver of his, you feel, with the minimal skin to skin contact against his barely uncovered chest and the tiniest top you found to put on.
“You can take me on a date another day. Now, I want something else.” You don't know where all this confidence is coming from, but seeing the shock in Mingyu's eyes, it only grows. “You okay with that?”
“I’ll give you anything you want.”
The space between your faces charges with electricity as you take in his words. An unconscious bite on your lower lip pulls his gaze down, egging him to close the space slowly. You almost don’t register his advance, focusing on the part of his lips that were just on yours minutes ago.
There’s nothing more to be said, no invisible walls to tear down, only you and him and the pull between you, pushing you closer until your breaths mix. After all the obstacles you overcame, and the bumps that lead you to where you are now, there’s no more time to waste.
When your heads meet again, your tingling lips mold against Mingyu’s for the thousandth time, worried about nothing and wanting it all. And he doesn’t hold back either. His hands on your waist venture up inside your top, feeling your back tense at his touch as the fabric crumples up, leaving more of you exposed to him.
You can’t hide your craving for him any longer. You follow his rhythm eagerly, making a mess of his hair between your fingers and pushing him further against you. Every touch of his makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your jaw and neck. His hands and lips everywhere.
“Might as well just take this off.” Mingyu’s lips print a smirk on the sensitive skin of your neck before pulling back. You get what he means immediately as he tugs on your top, taking it off you as soon as you put your arms up.
His hands feel your chest up to his liking, getting to know the places that make you sigh into his mouth. Every touch of his fingers makes that spot light up like fire, and every sound you make encourages Mingyu more and more.
Your hands sneak under his opened shirt, feeling the firmness of his chest directly elicits a groan from Mingyu, making you shiver as you slip the fabric down his arms.
Your living room becomes a cliché mess of scattered clothing before you direct the both of you to your bedroom. You barely have time to drink in Mingyu’s body before you’re falling with your back on the mattress, chest to chest again, bare against one another, free of any fabric in between.
Mingyu slots between your legs effortlessly, a low moan coming from him as his hardening length grinds softly on the crevice between your limbs. His golden skin that was the star of your every dream, finally at your reach, soft and warm under the pads of your fingers.
“Gyu—” Words choke up on your throat as you feel his lips wrapping around one of your nipples.
“You're gorgeous,” His lips against your chest makes you halt your movements, mind focused solely on him, “so pretty, only for me.”
It's almost as if he was talking to himself, but you moan at every compliment, arching your back for more of him. And he loves it. Loves the way you react to the stream of thoughts that run around his brain every time he looks at you.
“Fuck!” The curse leaves you both in unison when Mingyu finds his digits against your core.
“I barely even touched you and you're already ready for me?” Mingyu feels your reaction to his words first hand as a wave of arousal hits you.
“Fuck you,” you gasp and he chuckles, kissing down your torso until he’s facing your core.
“I'll take care of you, don't worry, baby.” His breath fans at your wet folds, so close to where you want him but still teasing you with his fingers.
You’re about to fight back when you feel him teasing at your opening, his eyes entranced by how ready you are for him. All the anticipation, the tension between you from the past weeks, culminating at once at this very moment.
The slickness leaking out of you from all the kissing and groping makes it easy for him to set the pace. Mingyu’s fingers stretch your insides with expertise, as if he learned every spot of yours to touch to have you squirming.
The torturously slow thrusts of his fingers drive you crazy, curling and hitting exactly where you need them before he’s pulling back. You don’t hold your sounds back, your every reaction letting Mingyu know how good he makes you feel.
“That’s it, baby,” His low voice sets fire to the blood rushing through your veins, and your walls clamp harder around his fingers.
Your knuckles turn white as you grip the sheets below you, and Mingyu’s other hand has to hold your thighs apart so you don’t close them around his head.
“Mingyu—shit!” His lips leave a trail of breathy kisses on your inner thigh, trying to help you relax and take him in, but ultimately turning you on further. “Gyu, wait.”
“I love that you’re calling me that.” He listens and stops thrusting, leaving his fingers to fully fit inside you.
“I need you.” You’re not embarrassed to say what you want. Not with him.
“But you have me?” He tries to tease, but you’re ahead of him already and immediately correct yourself.
“Inside.” His fingers adjust themselves inside you, almost making you forget what you were asking for. “I need you to fuck me.”
Mingyu chuckles at your neediness, but you know he wants it just as bad. His rock hard length draws your attention as he stands up and retrieves his wet digits from you, leaking and ready to split you in half.
There’s a second of hesitation as he looks at you splayed on the bed, as ready for him as he is for you. You recognize the train of thought going through him and stretch your arm to open the drawer below your nightstand, where you keep condoms just in case.
It’s sinful, the sight of Mingyu rolling down the condom as his eyes rake up and down your body. When he kneels on the mattress, fitting like a glove between your legs, it takes another kiss of his on each of your spent legs for you to realize that what’s happening is real.
Caged between both of his arms, his hands holding his weight on both sides of your head, your legs wrap around his waist and push him inside you, at last.
His length fits inside you, opening up your walls to mold to his shape as you both moan.
Your hips collide as he hits your deepest parts. “Being inside you is gonna kill me.” You can feel the twitching of his cock deep inside you. He paused to let you get used to his size, but the last thing you want to do is wait.
“I’m gonna kill you if you don’t move.”
You’ve learned teasing him works wonders, and as soon as those words leave your lips, he’s complying with what you ask of him. “Whatever my princess wants.”
Whatever thoughts you had, they fade at the drag of his length deliciously making you his with each thrust. Deep and slow, he lets you feel everything he has to give before almost pulling out.
The skin of his back becomes the victim of your scratches, your nails digging into his tense muscles with every grind of his hips. But no matter what you do, how you touch him, how loudly you moan, his pace remains at the same torturing speed.
“Relax, baby.” A hand caresses the side of your face, and you realize you’d shut your eyes closed at the feeling of him pushing inside you.
Mingyu lowers his head, flushing your chests together again as he kisses you softly, matching the pace of his thrusts with his tongue tangling with yours. He drinks every sound you make, as they are only for him, and lowers his hand down your torso until it meets your connected cores.
Your sensitive clit feels like fire under the touch of his fingers, circling around it to help you ease up the tension. “That’s it, baby, taking me so well.”
Everywhere he reaches becomes your new favorite place for him to touch. From your lips, down to your cunt, and all the way inside you, everywhere now has his name written. You’re his.
The pulsing of your walls around him doesn’t cease, becoming quicker and harder the more he continues with the slow pace. Your insides wait for every intoxicating thrust as if starved of him, craving everything he gives you and more.
His lips move on yours, parted and unable to work, mumbling praise you don’t get to hear as every one of your senses focuses on the fire inside you threatening to burst. Mingyu’s hips falter, having trouble thrusting inside you as you tighten impossibly tighter around him.
Your vision turns white as your orgasm explodes without so much as a warning. Your legs tremble around Mingyu’s pistoning hips, thrusting endlessly searching for his release.
Mingyu’s broad body falls limp on you as his length twitches, coming inside the condom with a groan while your walls hug him tight.
You lay under him happily, a smile on your face as you stare at the ceiling. He feels warm all around you, a feeling you could get used to. Mingyu can’t resist it and kisses you again. He’ll take every opportunity he can get to feel your lips on his.
“What's on your mind?” He asks, eyes locking in to yours as he slips out from you before attacking your lips again.
You both smile in the kiss before he stands up to discard the used condom and put his boxers back on. “Just thinking where you can take me on our date.”
He turns around with a glowing smile. “You’re thinking about that already?”
The way he lays down on your bed with you, naturally wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to him, feels like a dream come true.
“Of course, baby, I always think ahead.” You note the way he blushes when you use that nickname on him and snuggle against him.
Listening to Mingyu’s steady breathing and heartbeat under your ear, drifting to sleep has never been easier.
The smell of freshly grounded coffee fills the air around the café Mingyu picked. A cozy new place, lighted with yellowy light bulbs and with a space designated to read books you can borrow from the shelves covering the walls. It opened a few weeks ago in his neighborhood and he’s been insisting you try it out together since.
You’ve been on countless dates with him already, but you still feel nervous having him sit by your side in the booth. Still get embarrassed when he asks for a big smoothie with two straws for you both.
You don’t see a future where you don’t get nervous around him, but he’s always there. A future without him wouldn’t be life at all. And the best thing is, Mingyu feels the same way.
“Are you sure they’re coming?” You ask as your eyes drift to the glass door for the tenth time in the past five minutes.
“I promise they are!” Minguy takes your jaw in his fingers to make you look at him. “Remember to not say anything about the apartment. He'll as her when he's ready”
“What are you talking about?” You ask, feigning cluelessness, and Mingyu chuckles before giving you a peck.
Detaching your lips is always the hardest chore. But after a few awkward instances where you let your kisses deepen in public, you both decided to control yourselves, even in a secluded booth like the one you’re currently in.
Mingyu’s eyes light up watching the street from the window you’re sitting against, and you turn around to see the people you’ve been waiting for.
Jungkook and Cathlyn walk inside the store holding hands and with matching smiles on their faces as they greet you. How Mingyu convinced them to go out on a double date with you still astonishes you, but you’re glad everything that happened could finally be put behind you.
It was hard at first, even after Jungkook apologized to you, you didn’t dare go inside their apartment for months until Mingyu moved in with you a few weeks ago.
As soon as they sit in front of you, the plan you’ve been scheming starts. Your eyes lock with Mingyu’s and he instantly realizes what you're about to do, but not even his hand squeezing your thigh under the table can stop you. “So, Jungkook, what are you going to do now that you live in the apartment alone?”
note: it's finally here!!!
thank you all for being so excited this past month and for reading this monster of a fic i somehow came up with.
if you reached the end, just know that i love you, and i'd love to hear your thoughts <3
🔮 preview. Hell, you deserve this moment too, after singlehandedly taking on the reeducation of a patriarchically blinded film critic. These enraptured moments of passion are something you have worked toward together, and the promise of ecstasy is more than enough of a reward for both of you.
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, oral, pussy eating, blow jobs, fingering, overstimulation, multiple reader orgasms, multiple positions, praise, body worship, grinding, heavy petting, choking, slight size kink, Cheol is broad and buff, big dick Cheol, reader orgasm with her panties on, breast play, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.5k
🍭 aus. Film critic!Seungcheol, actress!y/n, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I've been dabbling in these kinds of media-based public figure rom-com style fics and I thought this one would be super fun :)
Prologue:
“You’re not going to like this,” Yumi, your agent, sighs, taking a seat next to you while your stylist works on your hair. “Mister Unimpressed wrote another article about you. It’s called ‘Looking back at Powers.’”
It’s always interesting when Choi Seungcheol - AKA. Mister Unimpressed - refers to you as ‘Powers,’ your chosen stage surname. He often twists the intention behind it, mocking your push for strong women in Hollywood. You release a deep breath. “Let’s hear it then.”
“Okay.” Yumi clears her throat. “In celebration of y/n Powers’ upcoming motion picture, I thought it fitting to do a rewatch of the Hollywood sweetheart’s entire discography. As is the case with any movie worth watching, there is a story to be told about Powers’ rise to fame and progression in her films. We start with her first-ever credit as an unnamed ‘girl next door’ in a would-be drama that turned out to be more of a romcom due to its lead’s unintentional and cringy comedic timing. Thus, Powers found herself as a romcom staple, and that’s what audiences are used to seeing from her. It’s quite the leap from girl next door to powerful femme fetal that Powers now portrays herself as in Tarantino’s new film ‘Death, Dawn, and the Rise of Cowboys.’”
Mister Unimpressed has a reputation as being a douche bag of a critic, but between his handsome face and his hardball questions when it comes to plot and character, somehow, he’s recently been promoted to an interviewer for a large publication. In fact, he’s set to interview you for your new film next week, so listening to this review gives you a good idea of what tone the interaction will have.
He might be an asshole, but he has a deep knowledge of film.
Despite his extensive history, you’d started in the industry before him, and he’s only actually reviewed the last four of your films, so it’s interesting to hear his qualms about your first movies and his critique, which borders on misogynistic, of your acting.
“It’s in Powers’ sixth film where we see her make a turning point toward actual drama, and at exactly halfway through the movie, in a slow-paced, heartfelt scene shared with veteran costar Kevin Costner, the audience gets to witness Powers’ very first realistic on-screen tear. Every other attempt at crying before this had felt surface-level, as if Powers was more focused on staying beautiful than truly embodying her character.”
You scoff as Yumi continues to read. Seungcheol is an absolute dick, a handsome one, but a dick nonetheless.
You’re dreading your upcoming interview with him, but it’s just something you’ll have to endure.
One:
You’d arrived at the studio ready to take on Mister Unimpressed, but as you sit down across from him, your anger skyrockets.
He’s so much more handsome in person. There’s a regal curve to his lips, and his smooth skin is further defined by sharp cheekbones and perfectly sculpted dark brows. His black hair is slightly longer than he usually wears it, and curled ever so slightly to accentuate the masculine aspects of his attractive face.
Mister Unimpressed is in a simple white button-up, but the suit jacket over it is a greenish beige that sets off the darker colouring of his hair and eyes. The gold chunky necklace around his pretty throat borders on being too eccentric, but for some reason, it just fits, and it matches the gold pinky ring that flashes at you as he adjusts the question card in his hand.
When he smiles, your heart skips a beat. It’s giving wolf in wolfish-sheep clothing, if there even is such a thing. He’s so beautiful, but you know his mind and tongue are both as sharp as a dagger, and he’s unafraid to use them.
“Ready? Action!”
“Good morning,” he says, his shoulders relaxing as the interview commences.
“Hello,” you say, forcing a smile as you adjust in your own seat, smoothing your black dress down against your thighs.
“So, ‘Death, Dawn, and the Rise of Cowboys,’ I’m sure many would call landing a role in a Tarantino film as the opportunity of a lifetime. How did you find the experience working on a movie of this magnitude?”
“It was wonderful,” you admit. “Obviously, for many actors, Tarantino is a bucket-list director. It was such a unique movie set, full of amazing actors and a team that really has movie-making down to an art form. I was very lucky to be part of this.”
“I’m sure many of our viewers at home recognize you from a handful of rom-coms. You started as a more background character, but you’ve worked yourself up to a lead, with heartthrob Jacob Elordi as your most recent on-screen love interest. Do you feel like this femme fatale, powerful cowgirl character in Tarantino’s film is a type of role you’re familiar with, or is she something new?
“Well, she’s definitely not the girl next door,” you joke, thinking back to what Seungcheol had said about you in his review.
He makes a face, cocking his head to the side, and you feel your anger bubble inside of you. “I mean, there are aspects of that naive girl next door attitude, if you took her off her porch, threw her on a horse, and convinced her to commit high-risk train robberies in the name of love for an older man, wouldn’t you say?”
You take a deep breath. “This film allowed me to work on deeper emotional conflict within my character than I’ve experienced in my recent romcoms,” you insist. “My character, Belinda, has those aspects of softness in her, sure, but she’s much more complicated than that, as most women are. She struggles with the historical context of femininity, and the idea that at that time, it was very much a man’s world.”
“Yet, she’s clearly afflicted with daddy issues and a need to please men, which some would say is a clearly male-centric view of the world.”
“Some may say that, yes, but being a powerful woman doesn’t need to mean you’re not interested in love. Being in love can be one of the most courageous things a woman ever does, and while I won’t get into the statistics on the reasons for that, I think many women would agree with me on that.”
Seungcheol smiles at you, and you get the sense that he’s trying to figure you out. “After a career of romcoms, which is what you’re known for, do you think the audience will appreciate the change into a more drama-centered role?”
“If Matthew McConaughey could do it, why not me?” you shrug, trying to appear nonchalant.
“Do you think your filmography would stand against McConaughey’s earlier works?” Seungcheol cocks a brow.
You take a deep breath, ignoring Yumi in the periphery of your vision as she shakes her head at you, wordlessly begging you to back down.
“Mister Unimpressed,” you sigh, “you might be a renowned film critic, but I’m currently unimpressed with your inability to fully appreciate the feminist notes in my past three films. I think if you decided to review my films with a more female-centric lens, and truly did your homework on what it means to be a woman in different historical contexts, you might be able to take off your big boy misogyny glasses for a minute and appreciate that women can be complex while still engaging in themes like love and longing. Coming of age in a world where men think they have a right to judge absolutely everything women do can lead to a character like Belinda, who is a feared outlaw in her own right, but doesn’t restrict her heart the way men might expect her to. ‘Death, Dawn, and the Rise of Cowboys,’ is a drama, not a rom-com, but it’s a fully fledged commentary on all sorts of human experiences, and my character Belinda isn’t defined by her attraction to older men, it’s simply one of the many parts of her complex characterisation which made her such a challenging, and rewarding character to portray.”
Seungcheol lets out a whistle. “Well, that was a mouthful.”
“So was your last article,” you fire back. “I get the sense you just don’t like romcoms, or romance in any form. You certainly don’t see the need for it in drama or action films.”
“I’ll admit, romance is my least favourite genre.”
“So you’re not an Adam Sandler fan? He got his start with movies like The Wedding Singer, Fifty First Dates, Mister Deeds- you must not like his castmate Drew Barrymore, or other romcom stars like Hugh Grant, or Emma Stone?”
A chuckle escapes Seungcheol. “I guess if I had to compare you to one of those actors, it would be Sandler.”
“Which I’ll take as a compliment.”
“He’s quite one-note,” Seungcheol says.
“Seems you never got a chance to see Spaceman,” you seethe, crossing your arms over your chest. “Do you have anything else to ask me?”
“Well, since you think I’m such a misogynist pig, might as well ask one final question.” An annoyingly beautiful grin makes its way across his pretty lips. “How much did that dress cost, princess? It fits like a glove.”
“More than you’re suit,” you fire back, standing. “You can trust me on that.”
Two:
The premiere had gone off without a hitch, and your interview with Mister Unimpressed has gone viral, stemming all sorts of discussion about women in the industry and the rise of ‘red pill masculine’ thinking. Comment sections are full of backlash and praise for both sides of the conversation, and it’s drawn even more press to the movie. It’s as they always say, no press is bad press, and you’re just thankful your outburst didn’t get you canceled.
It seems many agree with you on the concept of strong female characters still having romantic feelings. There have been a handful of very well-regarded female critics who have written soaring reviews praising you for your work, and a number of costars you’ve worked with in the past have reached out to congratulate you on ripping a new one out of the world’s most controversial critic turned interviewer.
Even so, the world seems to be holding its breath waiting for Mister Unimpressed’s final review of ‘Death, Dawn, and the Rise of Cowboys.’
He’s usually very on point with his reviews, posting them faster than most critics, so this lag in putting his opinions out to the world is very uncharacteristic and is only adding to the contention surrounding your now infamous interview.
“Still no review,” Yumi sighs as you both settle for your nighttime routine in your hotel room. “This whole situation is a nightmare.”
“I think it will be okay,” you tell her, wiping your makeup off with a cleansing pad.
Yumi laughs. “I’m glad you’re optimistic.”
“I pointed out major concerns in Seungcheol’s ability to give an impartial review; maybe he’s just rethinking his way of doing things.”
“I’m not sure one call out from a woman could change a man like that.”
“Maybe not, but the backlash might. Many of his female fans are taking my side. I don’t think Seungcheol ever intended to have a primarily red pill male fanbase. He can say what he wants about women, but that man is clearly too vain to give up female attention and praise. He’ll have to think very carefully about how he goes about this.”
Three:
It’s been twenty-four hours since the prescreening release of your new movie, and there’s still no review from Seungcheol. You’re trying to remain calm, but even you are getting worried now. You’re about to start your nighttime routine when you get a text from Yumi, and it stops you in your tracks.
Yumi: Seungcheol wants to talk to you
After a pause to think it through, you call your agent. “What do you mean he wants to talk to me?”
“I don’t know, he reached out, said he wanted to clarify a few things with you before he can post his review.” Yumi sighs. “I’ll send you his number.”
“Is this a good idea?”
“At this point, I honestly don’t know.”
“Yumi-”
“You have a good grasp on this. I know I’m your agent, and I help with PR, but speaking your mind created waves in the system, and after seeing more and more articles about feminism and the rise of powerful women in film- I don’t necessarily think this has been a bad thing. People like you because you’re raw, and you speak your mind.”
“So I should call him?” you clarify.
“I think so.”
You discuss it for a few more minutes, and then you hang up, staring at Seungcheol’s number as tingles of anxiety waft through you.
Taking a deep breath, you give Mister Unimpressed a call.
“Hi, It’s me, uh, y/n,” you say when he answers.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” For some reason, he actually sounds happy, and it throws you off.
“Well, I’m here to talk.”
“I was hoping we could do it in person.”
“It’s almost midnight,” you point out.
“I know a place,” Seungcheol insists.
You release a deep sigh. “And I suppose you need to talk tonight?”
“I want to post my review, but I really want to run it by you first.”
“As professional courtesy, before you bash me again?” you scoff.
He lets out a deep chuckle. “I can understand why that might be the impression you have, but I promise it’s not what you think.”
“Fine. Send me the location.”
Four:
You hadn’t bothered to get dolled up for this weird impromptu meeting with Seungcheol, and you feel a little out of place when you meet him in a hotel bar. Sure, it’s after midnight, the kitchen is closed, so there aren’t any people, but it’s still a 5-star establishment, and despite the late hour, Seungcheol is as handsome as ever in a red suit.
You wonder if the colour is significant, if he’s about to be a little demon to you again, and you sigh as you take a seat across from him.
He looks you up and down, taking in your beige cardigan and messy hair, your yoga pants and lack of makeup, and you wonder if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.
He simply clears his throat. “Quite the turnout for your prescreening,” he notes. “I feel I should buy you a celebratory drink or something.”
“You don’t have to buy me anything,” you insist. “What’s this about?”
Seungcheol swallows thickly. “Guess we’ll get right to it.”
“No need to force niceties now.”
Mister Unimpressed lets out a chuckle, toying with the crystal glass of what looks like whiskey in front of him. “No one has ever spoken to me the way you did in our interview.”
You stay quiet, wondering if he’s going to continue. When he doesn’t, it’s clear he expects a response of some kind, so you take a breath. “Is this about the review you’ve yet to post? Some sort of weird blackmail where I have to kiss your ass to get you to write favourably?”
Another grin, and you hate how the smile lights up his face. “You really don’t think very highly of me, do you?”
“You haven’t given me a reason to.”
“This isn’t blackmail,” Seungcheol assures you with a sigh. “I want to hear your perspective on your character.”
“Are you going to take me seriously this time?”
“I just…” Seungcheol relaxes back against the booth, and you’re aware of how broad his shoulders are as he takes a deep breath. “I gave what you said some thought. And I suppose you’re right that I have a very male-centric way of seeing things. I wanted to hear more about your experience as a woman and how that has influenced how you choose to portray characters that you view as powerful, even if the men watching the film might be oblivious to the complicated internal struggles you’re trying to convey.”
“I’ll discuss this with you, but I hope you know, there’s something to be said about the fact that you’re taking my time to explain this to you instead of doing your own research,” you point out. “It’s as if the onus and responsibility are always on the women to explain things instead of you, as the man, going and looking into the countless essays written by women about this exact issue.”
Seungcheol cocks his head to the side. “I guess I can understand that.”
You take a deep breath. “Let’s talk the whole daddy issue angle. I’m assuming you think it makes the character weak?”
Mister Unimpressed lets out a chuckle. “That might be one way of viewing it.”
“Gendered trauma is an issue in our society,” you explain. “Living in a patriarchal world, often, women feel the need from a very young age to perform for their fathers. They watch brothers get love for being masculine, and some women feel they have to be less girly in order to get that same attention. My character in the film, Belinda, struggled with that. She comes from a family of men, strong men, and when you worship something, imitation is often an outcome. Despite all her hard work, Belinda is still a woman, and she craves the validation that men seem to receive inherently. Think about the Barbie movie, and the iconic American Ferrera woman speech.”
“You won’t hate me if I have to look it up, will you?”
You sigh, waving your hand to give Seungcheol the space to look up exactly what you’re quoting.
From there, you begin to chat about all sorts of female empowerment. About women directors, and women-centered casts, the Bechdell test, why you chose to work with Tarantino despite his sexualization of women and feet-
Before you know it, it’s two am, and one of the waitresses shyly approaches your table. “Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know, the bar is closing up, so final call.”
“I’m alright,” you smile, taking a breather from your heated conversation with Seungcheol.
“One more Manhattan, please,” Seungcheol nods to the server, pushing his empty glass to the side of the table.
The waitress scurries away, and when she comes back, she pauses as she sets Seungcheol’s drink down. “I also just wanted to let you know, Miss Powers, I idolize you.”
Your heart leaps in your chest. “Thank you.”
“And as for you, Mister Unimpressed, I’m unimpressed by you!” She says it in a teasing tone, like they’ve been doing on TikTok where thousands have been making a meme out of your interview with Seungcheol.
He stares at her, gobsmacked, and the server flashes you another shy smile then scurries away.
“Do women really feel that way about me?” Seungcheol asks.
“Well, you’re single, right?” you laugh. “Maybe it’s the stick up your ass and the misogyny glasses you’re so fond of wearing.”
“I’m not a misogynist,” he sighs.
“Sure you’re not,” you tease. “And your shit doesn’t stink, and your opinions are always a hundred percent and undeniable-”
He gives you a hard look. “It’s getting late,” he admits. “Can I get you a taxi to go back to your hotel?”
“I’ll call one for myself,” you insist, pulling out your phone.
“You play characters with daddy issues, but you refuse to let me buy you a drink or get you a cab,” Seungcheol laughs. “Explain that to me.”
“Well, there’s this thing called acting, it’s where I pretend to be someone else-”
Seungcheol rolls his eyes with a scoff. “I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re a lot different than what I expected you to be.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have such prejudice against people you’ve never met based on who they play on the big screen.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he nods. “Thank you for meeting me.”
Five:
“Okay, so it’s a long review,” Yumi tells you with excitement as you get in the car to head to an appointment. “I’ll give you the big takeaways and send you the link to read when you have time.”
“Lay it on me,” you laugh.
“Basically, Seungcheol explained that after speaking with you, he’d tried to do his due diligence by discussing his past reviews of women-centric movies and themes like love with the women in his life. He said a number of them explained that your view was spot on, that you play complicated women with nuance that few men understand even when pointed out to them.”
“Not the women in his family taking my side of things,” you scoff.
“There’s more!” Yumi says, practically shaking with excitement. “He wrote in length about how the two of you met to speak further on the subject off camera. He said, and I quote, ‘Although in the past, I have portrayed myself as Mister Unimpressed, when Miss Powers showed up to an impromptu meeting without any of the glitz or glam, it impressed me greatly. Here is a woman, a multifaceted woman, willing to put in the work to educate a man such as myself, a man who hasn’t always been the most kind in his reviews of her work. Miss Powers pointed out I could have done the research on my own, and in hindsight, she’s correct, but she walked me through her opinions on the deeper conflicts that women face, and she opened my eyes with a level of grace and easy going humour that I will not soon forget.’”
“Wow, I for sure thought he was going to mention my chipped nails or something,” you joke.
“He noted that the interview you did has turned into something of a meme, and his attempts to educate himself aren’t to garner any sympathy. Seungcheol noted that he’s excited to see where your career takes you, as this first attempt to break away into a more drama centred film genre was spectacular. Then he says, quote, ‘Not only is she a Sandler, a Stone, a Barrymore, and a Grant, Powers is without a doubt, the next McConaughey, and we will all be blessed to see her on our screens for years to come.’”
“He said that?” you ask in shock.
“Verbatim,” Yumi grins.
“Holy shit.” You sit back against the seat of the car, letting out a deep breath.
“I don’t know what you said during your off the clock interview with Seungcheol, but whatever it was, you knocked it out of the park.”
“He probably just wants his female fan base back,” you note, but something in your heart tells you there’s legitimate hope that you’ve helped Seungcheol turn over a new leaf. The feminist inside of you says it’s not your job to have done this for him, but the idealist part of you says it had to be done sooner than later, and unfortunately, when it comes to misogyny and the male centric view of film and media, women have to be more outspoken than ever to make a change like this one.
Six:
Life has gone on, and in the months since your interaction with Seungcheol, you’ve seen the continued shift in how he reviews things. It’s a good sign that he’s actively trying to be better.
You’re in LA for a red carpet event, waiting for your friend to finish up an interview for her recent movie, and that’s when you notice Seungcheol. It looks like he’s completed an interaction with another movie star, and he catches your eye.
Damn, he looks good. It’s a Black Tie event, and he’s taken it to the extreme, black button up and everything under his dark suit. But it doesn’t look tacky, and there’s a textured element to his monochrome outfit that draws the eye.
You feel drawn to him, and you have the time to approach, so you do.
“Hey,” you smile.
“Hey, yourself,” he grins back.
So much has changed about his countenance, it’s almost as if he’s shy to talk to you. This regal, hard hitting man looks cute even.
“You know, with your character development as of late, for a guy who doesn’t like romcoms, you’re setting yourself up to be in one,” you tease.
“As long as it’s a romcom and not a drama.”
“Says the guy who has always preferred dramas,” you point out, cocking a brow.
“I like drama, but I don’t want drama with you. No enemies to lovers bullshit, at least… I hope we were never enemies.” It’s a shockingly candid statement from the man you’d once considered to be a heartless misogynist, and it definitely takes you aback.
“Not enemies,” you say. “I just thought you were a bit of a dick.”
Seungcheol laughs and holds up his hands. “Guilty.”
“Who knew it would take one romcom actress reaming you out to promote so much growth,” you laugh.
“You’re not just a romcom actress and we both know it,” Seungcheol says softly. You watch him look you up and down, and you can see the gentle shift in his expression, the softening of his eyes and the relaxing of his shoulders. “This might seem out of the left field, but how would you feel about getting drinks sometime?”
“Like another educational interview?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a date.”
You let out a laugh of shock, gaping at him. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
Shaking your head, you look him up and down. You’ve always been attracted to Seungcheol, despite his rather irritating pigheaded personality, but it does look like he’s turned a new leaf. Who would you be if you painted him with one brush and never allowed him to change his colours for a reappraisal?
“I’ll go out with you,” you tell him finally.
A beautiful grin spreads across Seungcheol’s lips. “I’ll text you.”
Seven:
You pride yourself on being a powerful woman who doesn’t need a man, but for the date, you allow Seungcheol to play the role of provider.
He picks you up in his Porsche, holds the doors open for you, and takes you to a drinks and tapas place that he’d reserved a secluded seat at.
With no prior discussion on what you’d be wearing other than Seungcheol telling you to wear a nice dress, somehow, you’d both decided on soft green as a colour, so it looks like you’re matching as you take your seats and order some appetizers and drinks.
“As a thank you for my feminist education, you’re letting me pay tonight, deal?” Seungcheol grins. “Get anything you want.”
“Part of me wants to argue-”
“But you won’t, because I’m insisting.”
“Very mans man of you,” you giggle.
Seungcehol shrugs. “Feminism can say what it wants about equality and splitting cheques, but I was still raised with chivalry in mind, and I can’t think of a more deserving woman to take care of, even if it’s just for tonight.”
“You really have turned over a new leaf, haven’t you, Seungcheol?”
“I’ve done my best,” he admits. “Been having movie nights with one of my cousins in town, she’s a huge fan of yours and insisted she teach me about feminism and historical context and stuff.”
“Did you finally watch the Barbie movie?”
“I did,” Seungcheol laughs.
“And?” you grin. “What did you think?”
“I thought it was really good. It kind of gave perspective on living in a patriarchal world in reality versus the matriarchal women-empowered world of Barbie. It made me rethink how important representation of all kinds is in media.”
“Did you go to school for film studies, or English, or journalism, or anything? They didn’t have a women's studies course when you were in university?” you question, toying with the stem of your sangria glass.
“Being a film critic wasn’t exactly what I went to school for,” Seungcheol says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“No?”
“Originally, I was supposed to be in business. But, I’ve always loved movies. I ended up doing a movie critic column in my university newspaper once a week, and I fell in love with it.”
“Let me guess, you started with movies like ‘The Wolf of Wallstreet,’ and ‘The Big Short’?” you tease.
Seungcheol smiles and shakes his head. “You know me too well.”
“I think you’re just a little predictable,” you shrug.
“I didn’t know being a movie star meant you minored in psychology.”
“There’s an aspect of psychology in all storytelling,” you point out. “You have to understand that everyone is layered and complex, and if characters in film are done correctly, they are too.”
“What about you? What did you go to school for?” Seungcheol asks.
“English.”
“I should have guessed that,” he grins. “But let me guess this, your favourite was the romantics?”
“And I had a seminar on film adaptations of novels,” you nod. “That kind of kick-started my obsession with taking words off paper and putting them into reality.”
The two of you continue to talk, and when you come to a discussion about your top three favourite movies, with Seungcheol noting ‘The Godfather,’ ‘Twelve Angry Men’ and ‘Jaws,’ everything about him makes sense.
“None of those movies have anything to do with women!” you bellow. “They’re all major failures to the Bechdel test!”
“Jaws technically passes the Bechdel test because there’s one scene where two women talk about living in the town and not about men.”
“Wow, it barely passed what should be an easy test, congratulations!” you laugh, shaking your head at Seungcheol.
“And I suppose your top three movies are all romances?” Seungcheol teases, cocking a brow.
“Don’t even try me. Everything Everywhere All At Once, a movie about the turbulent relationship between a mother and daughter, it includes multiverse and one of the most shockingly cinematic and touching scenes ever when both characters are literal rocks with googly eyes, sorting through their trauma and tumultuous relationship-”
“It won a ton of oscars,” Seungcheol nods. “Good movie.”
“If you had told me you hadn’t seen it, I would have taken you home right now and made you watch it.”
“I’m sure you could take me home and force me to watch other movies I haven’t seen that you think are important.”
He smirks at you like it’s a challenge, and your heart races in your chest.
“Fuck it, pay the bill, and let’s go watch movies.”
Seungcheol laughs. “Yes, ma’am.”
Eight:
You’re not sure how this happened, but you and Seungcheol are in your livingroom, watching movie after movie with strong female leads. You’d found an oversized pair of sweatpants and a hoodie for him to wear, and you’re in a matching set, both of you looking like lazy bums over separate bowls of microwave popcorn as you critique and discuss movie after movie.
This has felt more like a night with a best friend than a date, and you kind of enjoy that. Seungcheol had given off a playboy vibe when you’d first met him, but you now realize that without the suit and the chunky gold jewelry, without the Porsche and perfectly styled hair, he’s so much more than that.
He hasn’t flirted with you at all, or tried to inch closer to you on the couch, he’s been completely respectable, and it’s starting to drive you wild.
It’s nearly two am when you finish watching both Kill Bill movies, and you’ve explained that while Tarantino has a few weird sexualization of women tendencies, he still has created some of the most bad ass women in film. You find yourself yawning, and Seungcheol turns to look at you.
“Getting sleepy?” he grins.
“A little,” you sigh. “Come cuddle.”
He raises his brows at you.
“This is a date, isn’t it?” you whine. “You haven’t been doing any date like things since we got here.”
“I’ve been trying to be respectable.”
“Doing a good job of it, too good,” you joke, closing the distance yourself as you wriggle closer to Seungcheol. He lifts his arm allowing you to tuck into his side and get comfortable.
“To be completely honest, with how much bickering we’ve been doing, part of me wasn’t sure you even liked me that way,” he admits.
“Why would I have agreed to a date if I didn’t like you?”
“Women are complex, I’m sure there are lots of reasons,” he teases.
You find yourself laughing, shaking your head and releasing a sigh.
“See, you just went through like five emotions in the span of two seconds.”
“Count the emotions then,” you insist.
“You laughed because it’s comedic that I’ve reached the point of admitting that women are very complex, you shook your head because men always say women are too complicated to understand, you sighed because I annoyed you, but you smiled after because you’re endeared by how cute I am when I annoy you-”
“And number five? That was only four explanations.”
“And… you cuddled closer to me because despite the conflicting emotions, you’re into me, and you’re frustrated by me being a gentleman when you probably want me to be more dominant even though that contradicts some of your more feminist ideals.”
“A man can be dominant and still respectful,” you point out. “In fact, men who are dominant should be the most respectful since a woman is bestowing her trust on them.”
“Guess that’s true.” Seungcheol shifts. “Here, let's try this.” He gently touches the bottom of your chin, and you adjust to look up at him. “May I kiss you?”
A shiver of excitement runs through you, and a broad grin breaks out on your face. “Yes, please.”
Seungcheol returns your smile, and he slowly dips his head down to press his lips to yours for the first time.
He’s so gentle, and it leaves you wanting more. You grab the back of his neck, deepening the kiss, and he matches your energy. Shifting while kissing him desperately, you move to straddle him, and his hands find your hips, steadying you as you make out, taking each others breath away.
You thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, gently tugging on it and making him groan, his fingers digging into your hips.
You want him so badly it almost hurts, but you force yourself to pull away, gasping and trying to catch your breath as you look down at him.
He looks as dazed as you feel, staring up at you with pink flushed cheeks.
“It’s getting late,” you tell him, knowing that if this continues, you’ll be tearing each other’s clothes off.
Seungcheol swallows thickly. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your beauty sleep, princess.”
The petname causes butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach, and you stifle a moan, your core throbbing already.
“When can I see you again?” he asks.
“I’ll have to check my schedule.”
“Right, you’re a busy woman,” he nods, leaning back and running a hand through his hair, his gold pinky ring glinting.
“We’ll work something out,” you insist.
“I don’t doubt it.”
With one more breath to get control of yourself, you get off of Seungcheol. “I’m sorry to cut this short, it’s not that I didn’t like the kiss-”
“I think we both liked it a little too much,” Seungcheol jokes, adjusting his sweatpants.
You try not to look, but you can’t help but peek at the boner pushing up against the dark fabric.
“I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t expect that,” he assures you, reaching for the cup of water on the side table next to him. “Give me a second.”
“Okay.” Your skin flushes with heat, and you head to the open concept kitchen, filling your own tumbler with ice water to cool yourself down.
A few minutes later, you’re escorting Seungcheol to your door.
You can’t help but steal another kiss, and he hungrily presses his lips to yours, his hands teasing just above your ass as if he wants to grope you but knows he should be chivalrous. You can see the clash of wants versus his need for control of himself, and it makes you even hornier as you break the heated kiss for a second time.
“I’ll text you,” you insist, taking a deep breath.
“Goodnight, princess.”
“Goodnight, Cheol.”
Nine:
It’s been two weeks since your first date with Seungcheol and your schedules haven’t aligned, but you’ve been texting every day, and getting to know each other. You’ve given him ‘homework’ to watch certain movies and he’s been updating his reviews of older movies, adding to his repertoire.
Tonight is the night you finally get to see him again, and you don’t bother with any of the going out for a date bullshit, you both know you want to watch movies and cuddle, amongst other things… and Seungcheol arrives to the date in the sweatpant outfit you’d given him last time.
You both laugh at the way you’re dressed, and you pull him in for a kiss.
His hands are very grabby, in the best possible way, but he still avoids your ass, choosing to instead grip your hips, his lips hot and heavy against your own.
You make out all the way to the couch, and Seungcheol lets out a sigh. “So what are we watching?”
“I was thinking horror movies or something.”
“Horror? You want to cuddle with me all night, huh?”
You laugh. “Not every movie we watch has to be some great female lead film with a commentary on sexism and the deeply ingrained patriarchal expectations of our current and historical society. Sometimes, we can just watch a house filled with ghosts and demons.”
“So the Conjuring.”
You stare at him. “How did you know?”
“It’s one of the better horror movies about ghosts and demons.”
Seungcheol sits down, and you immediately take your seat right next to him, cuddling close to his side while his arm wraps around you casually.
“Before we start, I wanted to talk to you about something,” you tell him.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I mean, lets be real, we’re probably having sex tonight-”
“We are?”
“Don’t act all shocked,” you laugh, pushing at his chest.
“I just wanted to know if-” You trail off, biting your lip.
“If I’m seeing anyone else.”
“STI’s are a real thing.”
“So are condoms,” he laughs, “and I brought some just in case.”
“Oh.”
“But to answer your question, no, I’m not seeing anyone else.”
Your heart leaps into your throat. “You’re not?”
“Why would I be?” He shrugs.
“I don’t know, clearly my job has me on a very rough schedule most of the time. Long distance isn’t exactly everyone’s favourite idea in the world when they’re considering a relationship with someone- I mean, if that is something you’re considering.”
Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “We can make it work. There isn’t really anyone else I’d want to make it work with.”
“Really?”
“Are you seeing anyone else?” he asks.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because as much as you infuriate me sometimes, I feel the most mentally stimulated with you. No one else challenges me in the way you do, and no one else pushes me to question the ways in which I think about things.”
“Funny, I could say the exact same about you.”
You grin up at him, cupping his cheek to draw his lips to your own.
It’s a softer kiss now, a kiss of understanding, of mutual respect and clear intention of direction for your future.
Soon, you’re starting the movie, and Seungcheol shifts to be your big spoon as The Conjuring begins to play.
He’s not nearly as hesitant and respectful as last time, and you don’t want him to be.
Pretty quickly into the movie, he begins to kiss your throat. You release a sigh, tilting your head to give him better access as he searches for your sweet spot.
At the same time, his hand slips under your hoodie, teasing over your bare hip.
You can’t help but react, pushing your ass back against his crotch, loving the sensation of his fingers on your skin.
His cock is already pressing up to meet you, and your core throbs at the knowledge. You can’t help yourself, flipping onto your back so you can press your lips to his as Seungcheol continues to spoon your side. His fingers tease your panty line, and you whimper into the kiss, muscles tensing with anticipation.
“Please,” you whisper, part of you knowing he won’t cross the line without permission first.
Seungcheol’s hand slips below your waistband, but over your panties, teasing your clit through the flimsy material.
You moan desperately, mouth hot against his own as he begins to work you up.
“So wet already,” Seungcheol groans.
“Been needing you,” you admit.
“Been needing you too,” he grins.
You wiggle your hips, feeling desperate and annoyed with your panties still being in the way of direct contact, but you know what will urge him to go faster.
You lift your hoodie and sportsbra, exposing your breasts to Seungcheol, who breaks your kiss to look down at them.
He’s breathing heavily, watching you toy with your nipples, wiggling your hips to grind your pussy against his hand.
“You look so perfect like this,” he muses.
“I’d look better with your mouth on my nipple,” you counter.
Seungcheol releases a chuckle, and then he adjusts, shifting so he can tease his tongue along your breast while his fingers rub harder on your clit through your panties.
The first flick of his wet muscle against your sensitive bud as you groan, throwing your head back and closing your eyes. When he takes your nipple into his mouth to suck on it, your entire body lights up with hot energy.
Your panties are soaked through now and you know it, but despite the annoyance of it, there’s something delicious about being teased this way.
If this feels like ecstasy already, you can’t even imagine what his cock is going to feel like.
You can’t help yourself, you shift a little, awkwardly cupping your hand over his bulge and rubbing gently.
Seungcheol moans against your breast and the sound goes straight to your core, which throbs desperately, making you cry out too.
Your free hand threads through his beautiful dark curls, keeping his mouth on your chest as you wiggle your hips harder against his hand, chasing the high that you know isn’t far off.
Seungcheol’s teeth drag teasingly against your nipple and you cry out, eyes clenching shut.
“I’m close, fuck, I’m close already and you haven’t even actually touched me,” you gasp.
You can feel him grin, and you moan louder, focusing on the pleasure building inside of you. He rubs your clit even harder and you begin to pant, your heart thundering in your rib cage like a million tiny birds aching to burst free.
One more nibble at your nipple has you orgasming hard, your pussy clenching around nothing as ecstasy floods through you. The sound you release is the most pornographic noise that’s ever come from your lips, and Seungcheol rubs you through your high, even as your thighs close around his hand.
Overstimulation has never felt this good, and it overtakes you completely, in the best possible way.
You’re not sure how long you orgasm for, but when your muscles finally unclench, you slump back, trying to catch your breath, body still twitching with after shocks.
Seungcheol pulls away from your chest, looking up at you with a grin.
“That good, huh?”
You can’t even speak yet, mind still numb, but you manage a nod.
“I’m going to eat you out now, you know, for feminism,” Seungcheol jokes, and your core throbs at the notion.
He pulls his hand from your sweatpants, sitting up and carefully manuevering around you so he can get down onto the floor in front of the couch. Then he gently adjusts you too, tugging at your pants and pulling them down your legs.
“Your panties are ruined,” he notes. “I kind of want to keep them as a souvenir.”
All you can do is giggle, lifting your hips to allow him to remove the flimsy fabric. Then you take off your hoodie and your bra, leaving you completely naked for Seungcheol as you adjust on the couch, sinking down and spreading your thighs for him.
Seungcheol swallows thickly, gaze shifting up to you. “You’re perfect,” he tells you, bringing his lips to your inner thigh so his breath teases over your most sensitive spots. “Every, single, inch.”
Each press of his mouth to your skin feels like heaven, and you relax further against the couch, enjoying the way he adjusts your thighs over his shoulders.
“Are you a fan of overstimulation?” he asks.
“I think I can be, but no one has ever really tried.”
“If it’s too much, just tell me to stop,” Seungcheol says softly.
“Okay,” you whimper, heart racing with expectation.
Seungcheol starts by rubbing your slit with his thumb, gently testing your clit to see how sensitive you are.
You jolt from the brief contact, and he looks up at you with a grin.
“I’ll be nice,” he promises, slipping two fingers into your drenched core.
You mewl from the sensation of him stroking your inner walls, and he works you open slowly, testing the waters and carefully watching your reactions. His mouth moves to your inner thigh again, teasing you but still giving your clit time to recuperate.
Closing your eyes, you give yourself to Seungcheol and the pleasure he’s coaxing out of you.
He continues to finger fuck you, but then he brings his second hand up, gently toying with your clit with his thumb.
Your core clenches tightly around his digits, and you let out a deep groan.
“I think you’re almost ready for my mouth,” he muses, pressing another sloppy kiss to your inner thigh.
“I want to feel it,” you whimper, loving the attention he’s showering you in.
Seungcheol lets out a chuckle, and then he adjusts. You feel his breath as he moves closer, his thumb dropping away from your clit to make room for his wet tongue, which gently begins to circle your ultra sensitive nub.
Your thighs shake from the feeling of it, and a deep moan escapes you, your skin tingling with pleasure.
Seungcheol shifts his hand a little, pushing his fingers up toward your g-spot while he applies more and more pressure on your clit with his tongue. Then he begins to suck the bud into his mouth, making lewd sounds as he works you toward yet another orgasm.
“Fuck,” you groan, reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair, keeping his mouth on your clit while you roll your hips, eager for even more stimulus.
He keeps applying pressure to your g-spot, and the sounds escaping you are pornographic as he works you closer and closer to the edge.
“Keep going,” you whimper. “Please, don’t stop!”
You’re gasping now, muscles clenching, heart racing in your chest. Seungcheol’s fingers work even faster inside of you, and you shut your eyes, giving in to the rising pleasure as it comes to a boiling point-
“I’m cumming!” you gasp, pussy clamping down on Seungcheol’s digits as waves of ecstasy slam into you. Your orgasm takes your breath away, and you writhe against the couch as Seungcheol works you through it, his mouth and fingers unrelenting on your core as the pleasure all but engulfs you.
Your thighs are shaking over his shoulders, muscles clenching and unclenching repeatedly with the power of your high.
But Seungcheol seems to know your limit already, and on the cusp of the ecstasy being too much to handle, he takes his mouth off your clit. His fingers slow inside of your core, gently stroking you and helping you slowly come down from one of the most intense orgasms of your life.
His lips find your inner thigh, and he’s patient as you catch your breath, slouched against the couch with post orgasmic exhaustion.
Seungcheol pulls his fingers out of your wet core, and you listen to him lick them clean, letting out a groan of appreciation for the taste of you.
“Fuck me now?” you ask softly, opening your eyes to gaze down at the beautiful film critic.
He lets out a laugh. “Not here, not on a couch.”
“Bedroom,” you insist.
Seungcheol stands up, looking down at your body. “Bedroom works.” Then he leans down, gently collecting you into his arms and lifting you bridal style. Your heart flip flops in your chest as he carries you through your home to your bedroom. You’re turned on by his strength, there’s no doubt about that, but you’re also turned on by the care in which he treats you. Who would have thought that notorious asshole Mister Unimpressed could have a soft side?
He sets you onto the bed, and you stretch, releasing a moan at the feeling of your muscles as they begin to relax.
“Take your clothes off,” you instruct.
Seungcheol chuckles. “Yeah?”
“Uh huh.” You nod lazily.
He shakes his head at your attempt to be dominant with him, but he pulls off his hoodie all the same.
You lick your lips at the sight of his bare torso. He’s always been broad, even when his shoulders are hidden by suit jackets and hoodies, the width of this man is still obvious. But seeing him exposed like this takes your breath away. Your imagination had gone wild with thoughts of what he would look like in a moment like this, but your musings pale in comparison to the real thing.
He’s well muscled for a movie critic- for any man, and it’s clear he spends time at the gym sculpting this Grecian statue-esque body of his.
Then his hands move to the drawstrings of his sweatpants, and he toys with them for a moment, grinning up at you.
“You sure you want this?” he teases.
With a groan of frustration, you sit up, getting onto your hands and knees so you can crawl to the edge of the bed in front of him. You reach out and hook your fingers in the waistband of his sweats and briefs, and with one quick movement, you tear them down, exposing his thick cock for the very first time.
You can’t help the way you start to drool, and you immediately grab the base of his length, moving your mouth to the tip so you can begin to suck on him.
“Shit,” Seungcheol cusses. Clearly he wasn’t expecting you to give him head, and his hand flies to your shoulder, but he doesn’t push you away.
You sink your mouth farther onto his cock, swirling your tongue and suctioning around him, wanting to give him the pleasure he’s just given you two times over.
“You’re good at this,” he tells you. “I’m impressed.”
You can’t help but giggle a little, pulling off of his cock and stroking it as you look up at him. “That’s high praise, coming from you.”
Seungcheol grins. “You deserve praise.”
“I do,” you agree, bringing your mouth back to his length and sinking as far onto his thick cock as you can. He groans when his tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag slightly around him, closing your eyes and focusing on breathing through your nose to counteract the instinct to choke.
His hand strokes your hair as you suck him off, and his small moans fill the room, making your pussy even wetter.
You know what blue balls are, but as you continue to suck him off, you start to realize your core is having what must be the female equivalent. It’s not a pain, more of a deep longing to be full- as if your pussy knows there’s a perfectly wonderful cock literally within reach- but not filling where you need it most.
You suck him off until you can’t ignore the need any longer, and then you pull off of him, struggling to catch your breath.
“Need you now,” you tell him.
“Whatever you want, princess,” he says, kicking his sweats and underwear off of where they’d been pooled at his feet while you adjust on the bed.
No matter what kinky level a man is, you always feel like starting in missionary is a safe bet for everyone, so you lay on your back, spreading your legs invitingly for Seungcheol as he joins you on the bed.
“Just to double check,” he notes as your legs wrap around his hips, “you still don’t want me to grab a condom or anything?”
“We’re good,” you assure him.
“You’re on birth control of some kind?” he clarifies.
“Oh, I see how this is, you’re not worried about either of us have STI’s, you’re worried about getting me pregnant,” you laugh, stroking his broad shoulders.
“A baby in this economy?” Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “I know we both have money, but still.”
“Just shut up and kiss me,” you grin, threading your fingers through his soft hair to draw his lips down to yours.
Seungcheol smiles into the kiss, and he begins to grind down against you gently as you make out. His cock rubs your sensitive core, and you moan against his lips, deepening the kiss and gently tugging on his hair.
He teases you by making you wait, but soon, even his control is fading. He shifts his hand between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock so he can line the tip with your core.
“Fuck me,” you whisper, and with that, he slowly begins to push into you.
God, the stretch is perfection, and you close your eyes to release a moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as inch after perfect inch invades your wet core.
“You’re so big,” you whimper desperately, feeling adequately cock drunk already.
Seungcheol chuckles. “Maybe you’re just tight, been a while since you got laid, huh?”
“I’m a man hating feminist, remember?” you joke, letting out a laugh.
“I think you just have high standards,” Seungcheol groans as he bottoms out inside of you. He draws his lips to your throat, his breath ghosting over your skin as he whispers, “Nothing wrong with that.”
Your skin tingles as he begins to move, slowly fucking into you, giving your inner walls time to adjust and relax around the large intrusion.
Each thrust has you whimpering, and his kisses on your throat only stimulate you more. It feels like he’s worshipping you, and you get lost in the sensation, enjoying every moment and every movement.
“You feel amazing,” Seungcheol groans, fucking into you even harder, his hands gripping the pillow next to your head. You can tell he’s still trying to hold back a little, trying not to ruin you and betray how feral he is for you- but you kind of want him to be feral. You want to see Mister Unimpressed lose control.
“Fuck me properly,” you command, swallowing thickly. “Don’t hold back.”
Seungcheol pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. “Are you sure?”
“Break the bed, break my back for all I care- I want to feel you, all of you.”
The beautiful man chuckles. “If you say so, princess.”
He presses a kiss to your lips, then adjusts, pulling back. He moves your thighs so you’re folded in half, your knees resting over his shoulders as his hands grab your hips, lifting your lower half slightly off the bed.
Then he begins to fuck into you, using the leverage of your legs to keep himself upright and perfectly positioned to rail you like no one has ever railed you before. One of his hands finds the headboard, and he grips it hard, fucking into you wildly. The position has him hitting a spot deep inside of you, and it makes you squeal, grabbing at the bedsheets as pleasure engulfs you.
No one has ever been this deep, and it feels like nirvana as you give yourself willingly to a man whom, a year ago, you would have insisted would never land an interview with you, let alone a date or a potential relationship.
Your pussy is sloppy wet, but something about that is enjoyable for you, and you can tell from Seungcheol’s sounds that he’s obsessed with it too.
Lube has never been something you’d figured you should be ashamed of, and in this day of age, with the lack of courting and foreplay, generally in the past, lube has been something kind of necessary. But Seungcheol had put in the work, he’d made you cum twice, he’d teased and enticed you to the point of woman blue balls, and your wet core is a testament to the way he has worshipped you in order to deserve this moment.
Hell, you deserve this moment too, after singlehandedly taking on the reeducation of a patriarchically blinded film critic. These enraptured moments of passion are something you have worked toward together, and the promise of ecstasy is more than enough of a reward for both of you.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Seungcheol groans, throwing his head back and giving you a full view of his beautiful torso.
This man is going to be the death of you, but you could care less about that as you give yourself to him completely.
“Shit, get on your hands and knees,” Seungcheol says, abruptly pulling out of you and manhandling you into doggy position.
He pushes back into your core and you both groan, one of his warm hands finding your back and helping you rest your chest down against the bed, arching your body. This is also a deep position, and it makes you whimper as you clutch the bedding, eyes closed as your mind focuses entirely on the pleasure coursing through you with every snap of his hips.
“Fuck, I thought maybe this position would help me slow down,” he confesses, “but you look and feel amazing no matter what I do.”
“Why slow down?” you gasp.
“Don’t want you to think I’m a ten pump chump,” Seungcheol chuckles, digging his fingers into your hips as he fucks you wildly.
You laugh, your core clamping tightly around his cock with the clenching of your stomach muscles. “Cumming fast might be a compliment.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“Just means you’re so into me,” you tease, fucking back toward him and making him groan even louder. “You think I’m so perfect.”
Seungcheol lets out a laugh but it turns into a moan again as he fucks you harder. “Enough with your mind reading psychology bullshit,” he tuts. “We both know I’m obsessed with you.”
“As you should be,” you grin.
Seungcheol shifts behind you, and then he’s pushing your thighs together. His hand finds your ass and he pushes you fully onto the bed, mounting you with his knees digging into the bed on either side of your body. He grabs a handful of your ass, fucking into you. It’s a more shallow position, but something about the rub of his cock- the angle of him against your inner walls makes you moan wildly.
He leans over your back, his breath teasing your skin. “Tell me we’re obsessed with each other,” he growls. “Tell me I’m not just some loser in a long line of losers who’s fallen for a girl I see on the movie screen.”
“You’re not just some loser,” you pant. “You didn’t love me when I was just a girl on a movie screen. You liked me in person, for my mind, for my opinions-”
Seungcheol groans, his lips finding your throat as you speak, his nose nuzzling against your skin as he continues to shallowly fuck you, his entire body laid over your back like some odd comfort blanket.
“I want to be with you,” you continue. “And not just because you fuck me like you were made for me.”
“Maybe you were made for me,” he counters. “Like Eve was made for Adam out of his own rib.”
You let out a groan of frustration. “Patriarchy!” you insist.
Seungcheol chuckles, sucking your earlobe into his mouth and making you shiver. His hands find yours and he interlaces your fingers, his palms pressed to the back of your hands. “Maybe we were made for each other,” he concedes.
“I can live with that,” you moan.
“I want you to cum with me,” Seungcheol says suddenly, “flip back over.”
Another adjustment has you back in missionary, your hand flying to your clit while Seungcheol pushes into you again. Your lips lock in a fiery kiss, your free hand cupping his cheek as you eat each other’s moans.
Each rub of your fingers on your sensitive clit has you closer and closer to the edge, your pussy gripping him even harder. He’s groaning like a mad man against your lips, and as your gasps reach a peak, you announce, “I’m cumming!”
Your core clamps down on his cock and he breaks the kiss to bury his face against your throat, groaning in your ear as his own thrusts falter. You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, can feel your pussy milking him for all he has, your thighs locked around his waist to keep him deep inside of you.
His body is twitching with the intensity of his orgasm, and you move your hand to stroke his powerful shoulders, loving each curve and groove of muscle.
Finally, his body comes to a stop, and he lays on top of you for a moment, gasping while he tries to catch his breath.
Neither of you say anything as you both come down from extreme highs, but in the quiet, there’s a sense of closeness that you’ve never felt with anyone else.
You bring your fingers to his hair, stroking his scalp as he nuzzles against your throat, pressing soft kisses there.
“We’ll make this work, if you want,” Seungcheol says softly after a few moments.
“I do want this,” you confirm.
“Me too.”
“But you have to promise not to be a dick when reviewing my future movies,” you tease.
Seungcheol laughs. “I’m not supposed to be biased with my work.”
“It won’t be biased, I’m so good at my job.”
Another chuckle escapes your lover as he sits up a little, looking down at your face. His thumb brushes your cheek. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Uh huh,” you grin.
Seungcheol shakes his head, letting out a deep breath.
This has been a tumultuous relationship to say the least, but there’s something to be said about the whole enemies to lovers angle. You and Seungcheol didn’t start by liking each other, but you suppose all the great romances had a hurdle such as this one that made the ending much more satisfying in the long run.
You could compare this to Pride and Prejudice, to Jane Eyre, to the great romantics that you read in university and fell in love with, and it feels wonderful to have your own great progression story. You’re not sure where this will take you, but you’re excited for the next chapters with Seungcheol.
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🔮 preview. The warm water sloshes around your bodies like an embrace, and you can feel all the tension and anxiety slipping out of your form. You’re breathing harder as he strokes the orgasmic fire that’s beginning to build inside of you again, and you close your eyes to focus on the embers that promise intense flames.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, sex in a bathtub, oral, pussy eating, fingering, praise, dirty talk, breast worship, body worship, overstimulation, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of sex toys, mentions of phone sex, sexual massaging, handjob, etc… I petnames. (hers). princess.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 100
🌙 starring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader
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As you’d imagined, scheduling has been the most difficult part of your relationship with Seungcheol. In the year you’ve been dating, you’ve only really been home for about four months, but somehow, you’ve made things work. He’s a man who is glued to his phone for work, so texting daily hasn’t been a problem.
And there’s something to be said about sex when you haven’t seen each other in a few weeks. Nothing says I miss you like a proper fuck fest, and part of your relationship compromise has been making time for Seungcheol to come visit you while you’re away in exotic locations while filming.
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If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno. You know I just might. Let you lock me down tonight. One of me is cute, but two though? Give it to me, baby
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, smut, porn with a little plot
𝐚𝐮(𝐬): non idol
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k
𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: mature, 18+
𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mention of wanting children and getting knocked up
𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, creampie, oral (fem rec), fingering, squirting, massive dick Mingyu, pussy stretching, dirty talk, needy reader, multiple positions (cowgirl, and missionary), breeding/impreg kink, the mc calls herself a slut (she’s very sex positive), use of lube, mentions of using fuzzy handcuffs
nicknamed: baby, baby girl, darling, good girl (hers) baby (his)
𝐚𝐧: inspired by the song of the same name by Sabrina carpenter. I wanted to post this for Mingyu’s birthday. Thank you so much to @sluttyminghao and @mylovesstuffs for beta reading and helping me edit this!
Tall, gorgeous and handsome. The sight of him is absolutely mouth-watering. God bless his father for his genetics he was clearly gifted with.
You’ve been seeing Mingyu for three weeks and you are practically feral at the thought of throwing yourself at the beautiful man you are thirsting after.
As it turns out, Mingyu is a gentleman and requested you take things slow. He told you he wanted to wait until you’ve been together for a month before you finally get down and nasty together.
Your three weeks together haven’t been all sweet and innocent though. At the beginning of week two, after a late-night dinner, some heavy making out and dry humping led to him fingering you on the couch. Two nights later you found yourself with your hand in his sweatpants groping his very, very large cock. You practically begged him to let you blow him, but he said on your next date you could take the next step.
A couple of days ago was when you were finally blessed with the opportunity to suck the life out of Mingyu and his massive cock. You liked to think that you were pretty good at sucking dick, but nothing could truly prepare you for this experience. You couldn’t fit his whole length in your mouth at first without gagging. After a few tries, you could finally take him in your throat. The praise he gave you as he used his hands as a makeshift hair tie, which left you wet.
You’ve been far from innocent for a while. You lost your good old-fashioned v-card a week into your sophomore year of college and never looked back. Some people might say you’re a little loose with who you sleep with or maybe a good old fashion “slut”, but you don’t see it that way. You always just say you’re sex positive; you’re all about embracing the sexual side of yourself.
The night you met Mingyu he informed you that he’s a reformed fuck boy. The reason he wants to take things slow with you is because he wants to fully build a connection. If that’s what he wants, you’ll follow his request.
Tonight, you’re three nights shy from a month together. You aren’t sure you can make it through this date if you don’t finally get the opportunity to ride him like your life depends on it.
The thing about Mingyu is that you’re pretty sure you’re going to fall in love. It’s not just because of his perfect genetics and massive cock. He’s, unfortunately, perfect. Maybe not unfortunately—fortunately for you—he’s perfect. He’s a gentleman, he’s so kind, and he fucking cooks. He’s everything a mother dreams about their daughter finding in a partner. You knew one day if you take him home, your mother is going to beg you to marry him. She’s going to take one look at him and tell you to make her some grandchildren.
Hell, your friends are all telling you to lock it fully down. The day after your first date, you showed them a photo of Mingyu, and they literally gave you a high five that you managed to bag him.
There is something about Mingyu that just makes you feel like you’re an absolute horny mess at all times. You haven’t always been like this. Sure, you’re sex positive and love sex, but a normal man doesn’t make you feel like all your hormones are out of whack. Maybe that's because when he smiles, he instantly gives you butterflies and makes you feel like you’re falling hard.
Standing outside the expensive restaurant he just took you to, you’re waiting for a cab. His arm is over your shoulder as you lean against him. You’re desperately hoping that your matching red lingerie set with crotchless panties isn’t going to go to waste tonight.
“Mingyu?”
“Yes, darling?”
“What’s the chance I get you to take me home and see what’s under this dress?”
Biting his bottom lip, he holds back a smile. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Death by pussy doesn’t sound like a terrible death.” You absolutely love teasing him.
“Death by your pussy is how I personally prefer to die.”
“Is that a yes to finally riding you like my life depends on it?”
He can’t help but let out a chuckle at your extremely blunt statement. Before he can even respond, the cab arrives. Mingyu pulls away long enough for you to slide into the back seat. He slides in next to you. His large hand rests on your exposed thigh. He gives the cab your address.
Slowly, he leans in close, brushing your hair away from your ear. “Yes, you can do all things you have been dreaming about,” he whispers just loud enough for only you to hear. His hand stays firmly planted on your thigh, never moving.
The whole cab ride, you felt like it was taking everything in you not to crawl onto Mingyu’s lap and start kissing him like you need him to breathe. Fucking in the back of a cab probably isn’t the best idea though. The last thing you need is to get arrested for public indecency.
The moment you’re out of the cab, you grab his hand and pull him towards your apartment. The walk to your apartment feels too long. The second your apartment opens, you shove him against the door. “Someone’s extra horny tonight.” He has no clue how much he turns you on with little to no effort.
“I’ve been so patient with you. I just think I deserve a reward for being such a good girl.”
“Oh, you’re a good girl?” He cocks his head to the side.
“I’m a good girl just for you.” You trail your fingers up his chest.
“What does my good girl want me to do tonight?” He leans down so his lips are closer to yours.
“I have some fuzzy pink handcuffs you could try out.”
“Naughty girl.” He pops his tongue and gives you a wicked grin.
“You know I want you so bad. I don’t think I have ever wanted someone like you.”
“Are you just saying that because you want me to fuck you?”
“No. I’m saying that because I like everything about you. Sure, you’re hot, and you make me so horny I feel like I’m going crazy. You’re honestly perfect for me. I have fallen so hard for you.” You might as well lay all your cards out on the table.
“Oh, you’ve fallen for me?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Does that mean you haven’t fallen for me?” You’ve fallen for him so hard, there is no way he hasn’t fallen for you too.
“Baby girl, I’m head over heels for you.”
“Do you like me enough to make me Juno?”
“Like the movie?” He lets out a laugh.
“Yeah. Do you know one of me is cute? Could you imagine two?”
“Does my pretty girl have a breeding kink?” “What, you don’t want to knock me up?” You don’t want him to knock you up just yet, but there is something thrilling about playing into a breeding kink that you both clearly have.
“Does that mean no condoms tonight?”
Pressing your index finger into his chest, you look up at him and smile. “Make me fall in love tonight, big boy.”
Stepping around him, you head off towards your room, knowing he’s going to follow behind you. Opening the door, you have about ten seconds before Mingyu walks in behind you. Slipping off your high heels, you can feel his eyes burning into you. He is standing by the door, just watching as you go about slowly taking off parts of your outfit. Walking over to your dresser, you remove your jewelry. Looking into the mirror that’s on top, you find Mingyu carefully watching.
Reaching back, you slowly start unzipping your dress. The red fabric pools at your feet. Your red lace lingerie set you’re wearing is fully sheer. Your body is fully on display.
“Fuck-“ he groans.
“Like what you see, big boy?”
He instantly starts unbuttoning his dress shirt. Reaching into the nightstand, you pull out a bottle of lube and those pink fuzzy handcuffs you had mentioned before. Twirling them around your finger, you watch as he strips down to nothing but his boxers that are doing nothing to hide his very large erection.
“You know I want to blow you so badly, but I feel like I have been such a patient girl. I was hoping you could eat me out before I ride you.”
“Can your pretty lingerie stay on?” He steps closer to you.
“You don’t want to unwrap your present?”
“You look too good in it for it just to end up on the floor.”
Crawling onto the bed, you lay back, propping yourself up on your pillows. You spread your legs to show him how wet you already are. Slowly, you dip your fingers through your wet folds. “Oh.” You can’t help but moan as you circle your sensitive clit. His eyes are locked on you, watching each of your movements.
“Are you going to make me do all the work?” You sigh.
He crawls onto the bed. Laying on his stomach, he takes one of your legs resting it over your shoulder. He kisses the delicate skin on your inner thigh.
“Mingyu- please-“ If he wants you to beg for him you absolutely will.
“As you wish.”
His lips attach to your sensitive clit, sucking on it while he starts pumping one finger in you. He’s large, so you’re well aware he’s going to have to stretch you out before you can properly take him without pain.
The fact that Mingyu is eager to eat you out is just another thing about him that’s perfect. He’s said he gets off on pleasing his partner. By the ways he’s practically making out with your pussy while he pumps two fingers in and out of you, you know he’s not lying. Judging by the size of Mingyu's extra large cock, you know two fingers probably aren’t enough.
“Another one, please.” You practically beg.
He chuckles against your core. His lips stay pressed against you. Another finger is added. The stretch feels so good. He has you moaning like a bitch in heat. To be quite honest you feel like you’re in heat, with how desperately you want the man between your legs.
His fingers start doing a come hither motion, causing a pressure in your stomach you’ve never experienced.
“Gyu-“ His name is nothing more than a broken moan.
“What does my good girl want?” He pulls away from your pussy for the first time.
“Oh- go-d-“ Your entire body feels tense. You’re starting to feel dizzy and your release is getting closer and closer to the edge.
His tongue starts flicking your clit at a fast rate. His long fingers are rubbing the spongy spot inside you.
“Gyu-“ You practically scream. A pressure breaks inside you. Your walls contract as your release squirts all over Mingyu's hand and face.
His fingers slowly pump inside you, helping you ride out your high as he pulls his face away from your core.
“Baby-“ You can’t form coherent words. You’ve never squirted before in your life. You’ve never had an orgasm that feels as if it’s left you brain dead.
“Luckily you didn’t squirt on the bed. You just got my hand and face.” He lets out a laugh.
“I’ve never done that before,” you sigh.
He sits on his knees between your spread legs. “I’m honored.”
Laying down on the bed next to you he pulls off his boxers. He’s laying there naked with his large dick resting on his stomach. He taps his hip. “Climb aboard.” The cocky grin he sports gives you butterflies. He grabs the bottle of lube. Clicking the cap open he generously coats his length.
Slowly crawling onto his lips he wastes no time massaging your already wet core with lube.
Straddling his waist you grind against his large cock. Maybe one orgasm isn’t enough to make it comfortable to take him.
“Did you want to try those fuzzy handcuffs on me?” you ask, reaching out and picking them up.
“Orgasm number three I’ll handcuff you. I want you to ride me, as you said like your life depends on it.” Biting your bottom lip, you can’t help but smirk. “Do you need more lube?” His hand rubs your thigh.
“Let me try to take you, and if it hurts, we can use more.”
Lifting your hips he holds his length at your entrance. You take him slowly, inch by inch, giving yourself a chance to adjust to his massive size. It feels as if he’s splitting you open, but it’s absolutely delicious.
He fills you to the brim. There is no way he’s not bruising your cervix.
“Fuck, you’re huge.”
“Sorry, baby.” He sounds concerned. His large hand is gently rubbing your thigh.
“You’re splitting me open, but it feels so good.” By the end of your sentence, he’s smiling up at you.
There’s no way in hell you could start with a quick pace. You start with a small bouncy pace. Only moving up an inch or two before sinking back down. His hands rest on your hips, helping you move.
Leaning forward your hands are resting on his chest. You slide your hips up further and further with each thrust. Sex with Mingyu feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. The way he’s stretching you out makes you feel as if you’re close to the edge. The room is filled with wet sounds of you siding up and down his cock, your whiny moans, and his deep groans. It sounds like a porno, and you can’t get enough of it.
Your release comes quicker than you expected. Your body is tense and your walls contract. Throwing your head back you moan his name. You still completely, your body is completely fucked out. You can’t continue to ride him in your dazed state.
“Did I break you, baby?” He rubs your thigh gently, as if he isn’t thrusting into you while your brain is completely broken.
“Fuck- Gyu-“
“Can I flip you onto your back?”
“Yes.”
With little to no effort, he flips you. He spreads your legs wide, giving him more access to your practically abused pussy. He sits on his knees. His pace is slow but firm.
“Did you want those fuzzy handcuffs now?” He teases you.
The idea of not being able to touch him now makes you want to cry.
“No-“ You whine.
He moves down, hovering over you. His pace picks up. His release is rapidly approaching. The way he moans your name is like music to your ears.
“Can I come inside you?”
“Ple-ase.” You’re cock drunk and can barely speak.
“Did you want me to get you pregnant?”
“Yes.” You don’t actually want to get pregnant, but having children with him one day would be a dream.
Slamming his hips into you, he fills you to the brim, painting your walls white with his salty release.
Collapsing on top of you, he tries not to put all his weight on you. He places a trail of wet kisses across your collarbone. “Baby do I need to get up and get you plan b?”
You can’t help but laugh. Of course that’s his first question after fucking you so good you can’t even think straight
“No, I'm on birth control.”
Your hand runs up and down his spine almost as if you’re trying to memorize how it feels.
“Give me two years and I’ll actually make you Juno. You’re not wrong, one of you is cute. I couldn’t even start to imagine two of you.”
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💋Who: Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x female reader
💋What: Friends to Lovers. Smut (18+). Fluff. They are in LOVE okay. Some Humour. Birthday boy Gyu 🎂
💋Word count: 9.8k
💋Warnings: Profanity. A single solitary thigh spank. Oral (female receiving). Gyu gets a little possessive over reader for a second, but it's more amusing than anything. Fingering. PIV sex. Protected sex, and a discussion about birth control beforehand. Quick mention of leaving scratches on his back. Some cockwarming. Just very wholesome stuff really, even the smut.
💋Summary:
The intention is to sneak into Mingyu's apartment, set up banners and balloons ready for when he wakes, cook him a meal like he's been asking you for ages, and then give him his birthday gift. You don't really have a plan for what happens after that; you assume you'll just hang out.
You really don't expect a love confession and to end up in his bed.
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio, or for any of the reasons listed in this post, including blank blogs and blogs without any fics reblogged.
Masterlist
A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I’ve decided to private a lot of stuff on that account and just move it over to here after some editing, where I can actually track it all properly.
- Originally written for Mingyu's 2024 birthday.
Honestly, it's a little worrying just how easy it is to sneak around the apartment without detection.
You have known that Mingyu is a heavy sleeper for quite a while now, but it still concerns you that you manage to enter his room, tidy the little mess, set up decorations, then leave the room, all while he sleeps obliviously in his bed with his mouth wide open in a sign of good sleep.
Still, it makes everything all that much easier.
“Oh my god, Wonwoo!” The thrilled gasp, edged with a just-awake roughness, alerts you to the fact that Mingyu has finally woken and spotted the decorations in his room. A few seconds later, he’s stumbling through the apartment in search of his flatmate yet instead finds you in the kitchen. “Oh, you're not Wonwoo,” he mutters dumbly with eyes wide. Yours are too, but mostly because he’s wearing rather skimpy little, black boxers and nothing else.
“I'm not,” you confirm, staring without blinking at the extensive beautiful skin exposed to your eyes. Not that you’ve never seen Mingyu topless before, or even in shorts, but this is something else entirely. Something that you have only dreamed of until now.
Suddenly, Mingyu realises what he’s wearing, or more specifically what he isn't wearing, and squeaks as his hands dart down to cover his crotch before he rushes off with an embarrassed blush burning up his neck and cheeks.
When Mingyu returns ten minutes later, he’s freshly showered and fully dressed, much to your disappointment. But at least he isn't just in sweatpants and a hoodie like you had expected. He's pulled on his nicest jeans and a crisp, plain black t-shirt that clings to his torso, and is perhaps more devastating than seeing him bare. At least when he was bare it was less like being teased with something just out of sight. Either way, he’s out of reach in every way.
The outfit choice makes you tilt your head a little in puzzlement. “You put on your date outfit,” you comment, knowing that the jeans and t-shirt combo is a very common choice for Mingyu when he's going on a casual date with someone.
“You look nice, I thought I should too,” is his simple response as he shrugs and walks over to put his arms around your waist from behind and finally greet you as you usually greet one another; with a hug that is perhaps a little too lingering for the nothing-more-than-friends status you both claim to have.
Which is true, nothing has ever happened between you two that passes platonic. It's just the fact that you want it to, and if your mutual friends can be trusted, so does Mingyu.
“You said you like this dress,” you inform while turning back to the food that you’re working on. “And regularly complain that I never make an effort when I hang out with you. Seeing as it's a special occasion, I figured I should grant your wish, birthday boy,” you tease, and feel him grin happily against your neck where he’s still tucked down into like he favours. It always amazes you how such a giant man will shrink down for extended periods just to give affection to those he cares about. “Go sit at the table, this'll be ready soon. Your breakfast, my lunch,” you muse, pointing out that it is already almost 1 pm, but you had honestly expected as much. Mingyu is notorious amongst your friends for sleeping into the afternoon on days when he doesn't have to get up. And he always takes his birthday off to allow that luxury.
“Ah, you’ve finally agreed to cook for me,” he coos, and squeezes you happily before letting his arms unwind, hands sliding over your waist in a way that has you suppressing a shiver. Either he doesn't notice your little shaky inhale or simply chooses to ignore it as he relocates over to the dining table.
“I asked what you wanted for your birthday; you said you wanted me to cook for you,” you remind and glance over as he gasps and picks up the little ribbon-wrapped box on the tabletop while he sits down.
“Is this for me too?” He looks over at you with big eyes full of innocent excitement. He's so fucking cute that it is honestly a giant problem for your ability to keep a level heartbeat.
“Mm, of course, do you see another Mingyu here?” You raise an eyebrow, and then he notices the tag with his name on and giggles embarrassedly. “Happy birthday, Gyu.”
“Thank you,” he breathes out, looking at you fondly for a few long seconds, and then turns down to the box. “Can I open it now?”
“Whenever you want, it's yours,” you confirm simply while turning off the heat to dish up the food onto two plates.
“Ah, after food,” he decides and puts down the box to jump up with every intention of helping you; though you tut disapprovingly, causing him to lower back to his seat like a scolded puppy.
“It's your birthday, let me dote on you.”
“You dote on me anyway.” He pouts slightly as you carry the plates over to put on the already cutely laid table, which includes a little vase with fresh flowers in it. Mingyu has obviously noticed them and knows they're from you, Wonwoo wouldn't buy flowers for their apartment after all, but Mingyu does not have the mental capacity to point them out. It's too much for his poor, smitten heart to handle after waking up to birthday balloons and banners and then seeing you looking so beautiful cooking in his kitchen domestically. If he's forced to voice anything in regard to the appearance of his favourite flowers, he’s pretty sure he'll do something stupid like confess his undying love for you and ask you to never leave.
“Yes, and you do it too, but today is about you, birthday boy,” you retort and make a move to sit down. Mingyu is on his feet before your ass even touches the chair, just so that he can tuck you in like he always does. You let him have this one and just roll your eyes at his inability to not take care of you, even on a day entirely about him.
Soon, Mingyu is making happy sounds in his seat on your adjacent left as he thoroughly enjoys every mouthful of food. As much as Mingyu is a foodie and savours his food in general, he still tends to practically inhale whatever is in front of him when he hasn't eaten in a while, but he is genuinely taking his time to absorb every flavour and texture of this meal. It makes your heart flutter to see the genuine appreciation he has for what you cooked for him.
It occurs to you as you take a photo of him enjoying his food to send to the group chat, that the scene very much looks like a date. Your friends all know what Mingyu tends to wear for dates and if they know your own outfit of the day, which Wonwoo at least does from letting you into the apartment on his way out as planned, then they will also know that it's one of your own date looks.
You stare at your screen for a second, then lock the device as you decide against sending them anything despite having agreed to send update pictures. You’ve already sent photos of the decorations in Mingyu's room though, so that will be enough, right?
You know that it most certainly is not enough where your nosey friends are concerned. Still, ignorance is bliss.
For the first time perhaps ever, you finish eating before Mingyu, so just sit back and watch him contently. He knows that you're watching him and keeps grinning closed-lipped at you, not at all bothered by your attention.
He isn't a hypocrite; he’s watched you eat his own cooking in such a way many times before and will continue to do so. Mingyu knows exactly how wonderful it feels to witness anybody enjoying your own cooking, especially those you care about. And Mingyu knows that you care about him an awful lot. He’s just kind of in denial that the care had long ago stretched way past platonic territory.
As soon as Mingyu puts his cutlery down on his empty plate, you jump up to take the dishes away making him whine. “I was about to do that!” he complains while pouting at you with his left hand wrapped around his glass of water, which he had barely managed to touch before you darted away with the dirty dishes and distracted him from his drink.
“No, you weren't, birthday boy,” you sing-song, already rinsing off the dishes to put in the dishwasher ready for later in the day when it will be full enough to warrant being turned on.
“Are you really going to do everything for me today?”
“Yep, whatever you want, I'm at your disposal, Gyu.”
“Whatever I want?” he mumbles, more to himself than you, which is good because you don't hear his voice over the gentle clatter of dishes being placed into the dishwasher.
All he can think about is getting the one thing he’s wanted almost since the very day he first laid his eyes on you. Your lips. Your hands. Your body. You in your entirety. You by his side always so that he doesn't have to face the ache of watching you walk away ever again. But he can't ask for that, not even on his birthday.
After washing your hands, you return to your place at the table and lean onto your elbows on the tabletop. You don't notice the way the position accentuates your cleavage, but Mingyu certainly does. It takes everything in him to not look down at your chest.
“Are you going to open your gift now?” you prompt, nodding towards the little box.
“Oh, yeah!” He perks up and reaches out for it. “Though you really didn't have to get me anything, you already cooked for me and that's the best gift I've ever received.”
“Don't be ridiculous, Gyu, it was just a meal. Not even a particularly exciting one either, you regularly cook much more extravagant meals for me.” You pout a little, feeling guilty about the meal you made for him.
You spent weeks trying to come up with something special to cook for him. You even made a secret group chat with some of your friend group, who you thought would be helpful and not just ignore the chat, to send recipes and ask opinions. It had actually been Seokmin in the end who had not quite snapped but got fed up with your consistent worries over the planned meal and told you that Mingyu wouldn't give a single fuck what you cooked, he just cared that you cooked it. Seeing Seokmin speak up like that made you finally listen to the reason the entire chat had been trying to talk into you, so you stopped looking for something fancy and just cooked something you’re confident in already.
Still, you wish you did more. Something more deserving of Kim Mingyu.
“It's not about that,” Mingyu insists, looking at you earnestly. “It's about the act itself; cooking something for me no matter what it is, shows you care. That's what I care about, not the meal itself. Though it was delicious and I really hope you cook it for me again.” His smile turns cheeky by the end, making you let out a soft laugh.
“Mm, just say when,” you agree, smiling when his whole face lights up. You playfully scrunch your nose at him. He returns it without hesitation.
A moment passes between you, not a new moment, but one you have both felt many times. A moment with something meaningful floating in the air between you. But as per usual, neither of you are brave enough to reach out and capture it.
At the same time, you both look down at the box still in his hands to redirect your attention to something that doesn't feel quite so big in your chests.
Carefully, Mingyu pulls on the ribbon to untie the bow that you had spent a good half an hour trying to perfect that morning, so that he can then pluck the lid free. After moving the tissue paper aside, Mingyu's eyes land on the jewellery within. His expression melts along with his posture. With a cautious hand, he reaches out to touch one of the silver chains.
“I hope they're what you wanted. You were very vague when you said matching bracelets. I don't know who you intend to wear them with, but I hope you both like them. And that the design isn't entirely opposite to your intention.” You worry a little at the end, your own gaze settling on the little double hearts on each somewhat dainty chain.
Jeonghan had given you a look as if you were crazy when you had shown them to him last week; he insisted that Mingyu would break the chain within the first day of wearing it. But you know they are much more resilient than they look, after extensive testing on them both. You’re confident that even Mingyu's accident-prone self won't destroy the chains, yet even if he does, you'll just buy him more. Any many as he wants. So long as he's happy, you'll buy him anything his heart desires.
“I just know you like love heart designs and everything else didn't really suit you in my mind,” you explain.
“They're beautiful,” he breathes out, then scoots closer to you and holds his left arm out over the tabletop. “Put it on me, please?”
“Sure,” you agree, even if you're confused about why he isn't waiting until he gives the matching one to whoever his intended recipient is. Still, you pluck one of the bracelets from its secure seat in the box to wind it around his wrist and clasp it in place. Your fingers trace over the chain and his skin for a second before you start to pull back. But Mingyu quickly, though gently, grasps your right hand to tug it closer to him. “Gyu,” you murmur with widened eyes when he pulls the remaining chain from the box. “Gyu, I didn't buy it with this intention,” you explain rapidly, worried that he thinks that you expect him to give the other to you purely because you had purchased the matching pair.
“I asked for it with this intention,” he admits, eyes focused on the chain he ties around your wrist. “Why do you think I asked you to get me matching bracelets if not to share with you?”
“I don't know. I've bought you stuff to match with the guys before.”
“Mm, true,” he agrees and looks up at you, though his fingers remain on your wrist tenderly. “But I wanted these for us. Something I can wear every day and have a reminder of you; so that I can look down and feel better because I'll be thinking of you.”
“Gyu...” you murmur in a breathless exhale.
His words hold far more weight than anything the pair of you dare to utter to one another; like he has finally reached out and caught onto that thing between you, and now he’s offering you the chance to reach back out. But you don't know what to say, how to reach out without risking the weight of his words not being what you hope.
He stares at you for a moment, lip between his teeth as he chews on it a little with nerves filling his chest. He's already said it; there no going back now. So, he decides that if he can't go back, he should keep going forward and take that leap that he truly hopes with everything in him will end in your open arms.
“You said whatever I want, right?” he recalls. It takes you a second to understand what exactly he means, but then you nod. “Well, I have something that I've wanted for a really long time, something only you can give me. But I don't want you to give it to me just because I asked and it's my birthday. Okay?”
“Uh, okay?” you reply, confused yet very hopeful that whatever his request is, it will be enough that if you reach out, your hand will find his own doing the same. “What is it?”
“Will you kiss me?” Your eyebrows lift in surprise as your heart races in your chest. “And not...not just because kissing is nice and you haven't kissed anyone in a while so you're happy to kiss for that reason.” You don't even care that he’s bluntly mentioned your lack of any kind of action in the past months, you’re more interested in where he’s going with this. “But because you want to kiss me, and not because I'm one of your closest friends, or just for a sexual thing, but because you like me and want me the way that I want you.”
Your voice is barely a whisper when you respond. “And how do you want me?”
“By my side from now until forever as mine, and me as yours entirely.”
“Really?” your voice is choked and there are tears in your eyes from his sincere words.
Mingyu's own eyes look as if they are gathering tears too. Though his aren't wet just because of the rapidly growing cloud of something between you with his hands deep inside as he tries to direct it to your own touch. He's fucking petrified that he’s ruining everything between you, yet he hadn't been able to stop talking and let his truth flow free. He will never forgive himself if his honesty pushes you away; he'd rather have you as nothing more than a friend than not at all, so long as you're still such a big part of his life.
“Yeah, I-I'm kind of really in love with you,” He admits with a weak chuckle. He tries to lighten the mood with a smile but it's much too shaky to do the job.
Luckily though, you don't notice, you're already darting forward to lean over the table and kiss him, far too utterly overwhelmed by his confession and the swell of your heart to have the mentality to voice anything in response. You hope your lips against his will suffice until you have your full faculties back.
For a handful of seconds, Mingyu remains frozen solid in his seat, eyes wide on your own closed ones closer to his face than you’ve ever been before. He had hoped you'd react positively, but he hadn't dared to expect it. The hope itself had seemed like a dream. So, it takes him a few seconds to fully register that you’ve just fucking kissed him despite all he said. You two have such a solid mutual respect for one another that he knows that you will never play with his emotions in any way. It's that mental reminder that has him jerking back to reality. His hands fly up to cup your face as his eyes close and he finally kisses you back with a soft groan.
Considering that the kiss had been rather one-sided at its start, it isn't a sweet kiss by any means. It's passionate from the first second that his lips press back against yours; both of you are full of so much emotion for one another for so long that it's being released all at once.
You don’t intend to get carried away in the way Mingyu's tongue caresses your own, or how he regularly lets out little low sounds from the back of his throat to show how pleased he is with the way that your mouths move with this same pure need for one another, but you do.
Only when you find yourself on his lap, table edge pressing into your lower back and his erection grinding up between your spread legs, do you actually recall that you hadn't meant to do more than just kiss the man until you gain your mental clarity back. Not that you do gain your mental clarity back, but you've both pulled apart to desperately refill your lungs, even without stopping your hips moving against each other.
“Gyu,” you manage, holding his face firmly and looking into his heavy gaze. He licks his lips but doesn't respond verbally. He's at least staring at you intently enough that you know he will hear you even over the lust thick in his veins. “I'm in love with you too.”
All at once, Mingyu falls still and blinks at you in dumb surprise. He hadn't expected you to say as much; even if you do feel the same way, he thought your return confession would come later. You know, after he's fucked you until you can't walk without thinking of his cock every single step.
“You are?” he asks, not because he thinks you'd lie, but just because his blood is not circulating around his brain enough for him to have the ability to decipher if it's just a horny hallucination fuelled by his own love for you.
“Yeah, have been for a while.”
“Oh.” Another few empty blinks at you, before he beams and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. “I love you so, so, so, so, so much, sweetheart. You'll be mine, right?” He leans back to look at you with big eyes full of love and a hint of pleading.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you agree, beaming right back at him with your arms around his neck. “For as long as you want me.”
“How does forever sound?” Mingyu offers with a cheeky smile.
You take a moment to just admire him, admire the man who owns your entire heart and soul. “I'm not sure it's long enough.” You will happily dedicate an eternity to loving Kim Mingyu but even then, you aren't sure that it's long enough in comparison to the devotion he deserves.
“But it's a start.”
“It's a start,” you agree with a single nod.
He smiles adoringly at you then lifts one hand from around you to cup your cheek tenderly and leads you into a kiss. This one isn't like the other, there's no lust in this, even if it still burns in your very blood, and clearly in his too based on the bulge still pressing against you. All the kiss contains is pure, unfiltered love, and you hope to have many more like it in your future together. You're positive that it’s going to be a long and happy future.
The longer the kiss goes on, the more the lust trickles back in. Soon enough, you're grinding against each other looking for friction and to feel one another closer.
“Baby,” Mingyu pants out, gripping your hips tight to force you to a stop. You pout at him, confused and rather offended. “There's something else I want. For my birthday.”
“If it's to fuck me, you have my very enthusiastic consent,” you reply immediately, and try to move back in to reunite your lips, but he holds you still, making you whine. “Gyu.”
“No, it's not. Well, I mean, I do want to fuck you, a lot, but that's not what's on my mind right now.”
You pointedly look down at the borderline obscene bulge in his jeans, then back up at him. He giggles a little, kind of shy and very out of place, but so fucking cute that you can't help but smile in return. “Okay, what do you want, birthday boy?” you coo, brushing your fingers through his hair.
“To eat you out.” You raise a surprised eyebrow at him. You thought he'd ask for a blow job if anything, not for him to go down on you. Not that you're against that at all. “Can I?”
“Mm, sure, baby, whatever you want,” you agree. He grins, then abruptly hoists you up onto the table, making you yelp in alarm at being manhandled out of the blue. Once again, not that you're against it at all.
“I've wanted to get my mouth on you for so long,” he admits breathlessly as he watches his hands smooth up your spread thighs in front of him. “Thought about how you'd taste, dreamed about it.” He slowly pushes the skirt of your dress up, and up, and up, until it's bunched at the crease between your thighs and hips.
You watch him stare at the seat of your panties for a moment, his fingers pressing into your thighs and mouth open. “For someone who's wanted this for so long, you're taking your time getting to it, baby,” you tease, tapping his chin, causing him to snap his mouth shut embarrassedly while flicking his eyes up to you.
“Shut up, I'm overwhelmed,” he mumbles, tilting his head towards your hand so that you cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his lips, so he presses a kiss to it without thought.
“Overwhelmed in a good way?”
“The best way,” Mingyu confirms, nodding in your hold. “I just found out that you love me, and now I get to touch and taste you. It's a lot. I'm not sure I've even absorbed that you love me yet.”
“Will it help if I say it again?” you tease, leaning down towards his face. He straightens as you lower, as if drawn to you without him even needing to consciously move his body. You’ve only just come together but already, it's so natural to you both.
“Only one way to find out.”
Instead of saying the words, you press your lips to his. You kiss him softly, slowly, in a way that makes his breath hitch, and his fingers tremble a little against your skin. With just a hint of sweetness. “I love you, Mingyu, more than I can put into words.”
“I can't either,” he agrees and brushes his nose against yours softly before pressing a flutter of a kiss to your cheek, and then another a little lower. “I'm not good with words-” another kiss below the last “-I never have been-” he continues to speak in between creating a trail of his lips over your jaw and down onto your neck, trying his utmost to carve a path of his love into your skin in hopes of it reaching your very centre and finding a home there. “-And I'll spend my whole fucking life trying to find them for you.” His lips are at your collarbones by now, with little flashes of his tongue to taste every inch of you he can. It sends your stomach both fluttering and burning. “But for now, let me try and show you instead.” He pulls his mouth from you to stand up and hover over you, with both of his hands finding your face to direct your gaze up into his own.
You nod a little in agreement. “Show me, Gyu,” you encourage in a whisper, before his lips are back on yours, tongue sliding into your mouth as he encourages you to lay back against the tabletop without once breaking the kiss.
And then, in true Mingyu fashion, once you are flat against the wood and he reaches up to prop himself up over you, he knocks over the vase of flowers. He shrieks and flails his arms out to try and catch them, but the vase topples over, spilling water out over the wood, and thanks to his failed correction, in your direction.
You just stare dumbly at him. It all happens so fast. One second, you're making out with your boyfriend and the next, you're soaked and not in the ideal area. Luckily, it actually isn't an awful lot of water but having it over half of your face and chest really is not enjoyable in any way.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry, baby,” Mingyu rushes out when he looks at you instead of the mess of stems and petals over the table amongst the water. “I didn't mean to get you wet!” You raise an eyebrow with a suggestive grin. Instantly, his worry goes and he laughs. “This is the wrong kind of wet,” he muses and plonks the vase down so that he can wrap his arms around you and pull you upright against his chest. “Will you be upset if I ignore the flowers you bought me to take you to bed and make you wet in the other way?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“I think I'd be more upset if you focused on the flowers.”
“Good.” Mingyu lowers just enough to get your thighs up around his waist and his hands under them securely before lifting. “Always wanted to pick you up,” he admits off-handedly as he traipses through the apartment.
“Why?”
“Because...you let Seungcheol do it that time, but no one else.” He pouts and you giggle, absently playing with the hair at his nape where your fingers lay comfortably. “Don't laugh at me,” he whines. The slap of his palm against the underside of your thigh isn't hard and doesn't hurt at all, but the point gets through. Even if it is entirely contradictory behaviour to his sulking.
“Yes sir,” You reply, a tease, but your voice is serious. The only sign of the playful response is in the way your eyes sparkle on him. He gives you an unimpressed look but quickly breaks and smiles.
Though seconds later, the smile turns into a smirk, and he tosses you onto his bed. “You look good in my bed.” He grins, eyes darkening as they roam you from where he stands at the side of the bed with his hands on his hips.
“Look better with you on top of me, come on.” You settle with your head on the soft pillows and spread your legs invitingly while pulling your skirt up higher.
Mingyu is between your thighs in seconds, chest flat to the mattress and face alarmingly close for the speed at which he moves. For a second, you really think that he's going to harshly collide with you. Although you have wanted Mingyu's mouth on for a long time, that would certainly not be how you fantasised.
“Oh my god, I thought you were going to faceplant my vagina for a second,” you admit with a relieved exhale. He snorts a laugh, then shuffles a little closer so that he can press a kiss at the crease of your inner right thigh over the edge of your panties.
There aren't any further words exchanged between you, just a moment of heated eye contact before Mingyu adjusts his position and pulls aside the seat of your panties to expose you to him. He takes a few seconds to burn this image of you all slick and bare for him in his mind; something for him to look back on when he misses you.
Because he knows he will. He missed you before he even had you, and now that he has you? Good luck ever going a day without him whining for you in some way.
You let him look even if it makes you blush and squirm a little, half shy, half aroused at the intensity of his burning gaze locked between your spread thighs. He isn't even holding your legs open, just resting his left hand on your inner thigh without any pressure while his right keeps your panties aside. If he was anyone else, your thighs would've closed already, but this is Mingyu, the man you hope to spend a lifetime with, so you figure you shouldn't be shy with him. He'll see it all eventually anyway.
Just before you can change your mind and try to encourage him either verbally or by reaching out and pulling him in, he leans down and licks a broad stripe over you, pulling your wetness onto his tongue and making you inhale sharply at the sudden, wet touch. He groans deeply and his eyes almost roll back as he sucks the flavour of you from his tongue to swallow down. And then he's back, diving right down with his left hand moving to use his thumb to hold you open and give him easier access to lap at the arousal trickling from your hole.
He doesn't really give you any chance to think, just grip the sheets below you with your mouth open and eyes shut while he devours you with more enthusiasm than you could've ever expected. If you didn't think it before, you certainly do now; Kim Mingyu is the personification of your wettest dreams. The way his tongue travels over your folds hungrily, lips joining to suck and kiss wherever his heart desires, is so fucking sinful in the best of ways. You think he may very well suck your soul out of your clit at this rate, and you'll thank him for it.
“Gyu,” you finally manage to make a sound beside the whimpers and moans he skilfully pulls from your throat in a way nobody has, not even yourself, and you truly thought you know your body through and through by this point. But boy were you wrong. And for the first time, you're very fucking happy to be proven incorrect.
Though apparently, calling his name out of the blue is not a smart move, because he immediately leans up to look at you with wide eyes of concern. “Yeah, baby? You okay?”
“Don't fucking stop!” you wail in complaint, reaching out to knot your fingers into his hair and force him back down. Though he's more than willing to get his mouth back on your dripping pussy and lowers easily under your hands with a pleased groan. “Don't stop,” you repeat in an exhale, watching him devour you as if it's his sole reason for existing. You wish you could watch him for longer, but your neck quickly starts to hurt from the awkward angle, so you flop back down and let your eyes close again.
Mingyu glances up at you for a second, then also closes his own eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. He’s imagined this so many times before; how you'd taste on his tongue, how you'd feel against his lips, but nothing he imagined can hold a candle to the haven he's discovered between your thighs. He knows he could happily spend all day with his head between your thighs and his tongue buried in your pussy. He wonders if you'd let him. Not right now, he thinks that would be too much for your first day together, but in the future for sure. Tomorrow? Yeah, he'll ask to do it tomorrow, you can both call in sick to work as far as he's concerned.
Honestly, Mingyu is too lost in his own actions to register the way your legs are pulling in either side of his head and your moans changing in pitch and frequency. He only notices when suddenly, he has a thigh pressed to either side of his head and you're pressing down against him with a call of his name. His eyes fly open to watch you arch off of the bed as your orgasm shocks through your body. He doesn't mean to groan lowly where his lips are wrapped around your clit, but he does, and the vibration is too much when you're barely through your climax, so you scramble to push his head away.
“Sorry, sorry,” he pants out, crawling up the bed to hover over you while you slump down, eyes closed and chest heaving. He lowers onto his elbows on either side of you to kiss your neck softly while he waits for you to catch your breath back. He isn't expecting anything more than this and will be happy if you want to just leave it here for today, but he's sure as shit hoping you'll let him put his cock in you, even for a moment.
At this point, he's sure it won't take more than just a moment or two for him to cum anyway, his dick is throbbing in his boxers, pressing against his jeans in a way that he's only now realising is actually a little painful.
The second your breath is back, you tug him up to lock your lips together. His are a little damp and sticky still, but you find you don't mind tasting yourself when it's on Mingyu's tongue.
You don't wait long at all before reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt to pull it up. He leans back to give you a questioning look, more to make sure you're certain than anything else. You continue to pull it up, so he manoeuvres to allow you to remove it from his body.
“You're insane, you know?” you murmur out awed as you take in his defined torso. For the first time, you can touch him to your heart's content, so you run your palms over his newly exposed skin, memorising the warmth, the dips, and ridges of him.
“What?” He laughs confusedly, looking between your bodies and taking in how your hands look against him, how your skin tone compliments his own perfectly. Like you were made to complement each other. For each other. As he looks up at you and observes the reverence on your beautiful features, he thinks perhaps you were. It's that thought that has him lowering back to your lips again before you can even answer his question. He has the sudden urge to love you in every way he possibly can. Not that he never does, but right now, it's less of the usual consistent buzz, and more like a heated thrumming right under the surface of his skin.
You let out a little surprised 'mmh' against his lips, yet don't hesitate to kiss him back. Your hands first lift to hold his face, but then they move back down, over his pecs and abs all the way to the waistband of his jeans, where you tuck your fingers underneath in a silent request. He groans a little and presses forward against your hand in wordless consent, so you quickly open the button and pull down the zipper, so that you can snake a hand underneath and palm at him over his boxers.
Mingyu immediately pulls out of the kiss with a hiss and a low curse. “Baby, I'll cum if you touch me,” he warns, locking pleading eyes on you. You can't quite tell what he's pleading for though. Not when his words say one thing and his hips rolling against your palm tells you another.
“Isn't that kind of the point?” you muse, lifting a teasing eyebrow.
“I don't want to.” He pouts. Without hesitation, you pull your hands away and hold them to yourself. “No, I didn't mean to stop,” he whines.
“What the fuck, Mingyu?” you complain, pinching his nipple, making him yelp and squirm away a little, but only for a second as he returns right back. Always drawn to you and unable to hide it anymore, he doesn't want to hide it anymore. Wants the world to know if at all possible.
“I mean I don't want to cum like “that,” he explains, soothing your displeasure with a few sweet kisses to your forehead and temple. “I really want to be inside you.”
“Oh.” Your expression swiftly shifts into understanding and then delight. “I really want you inside me too, Gyu.”
“Yeah?” It's kind of comical the way his eyes light up in pure excitement. It’s more like he’s been offered his favourite food, not to fuck you. Well, considering the enthusiasm with which he ate you out earlier though, you may very well be his new favourite thing to eat.
“Yeah, so get naked,” you confirm with a giggle that only grows when he scrambles off of the bed to shed his clothes. He stumbles multiple times in his haste and honestly, you're too fucking endeared and in love with this giant, clumsy idiot to do anything but sit and watch him with a stupid grin on your face.
He only notices that you haven’t done anything but sit upright when he turns to climb back on the bed entirely naked and spots you watching him. “You're not naked,” he comments, a fresh pout pursing his lips.
“I got distracted watching the man I'm in love with,” You explain smoothly. Mingyu's cheeks flush as he smiles at your words, his heart swelling with his own love in his chest. He's not sure he'll ever get used to hearing you admit to your love for him. He doesn't think he wants to get used to it.
He climbs up onto the bed further and reaches out to the hem of your skirt. You get up onto your knees in front of him and lift your arms. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before removing the dress from your body to toss it to the floor carelessly. Later he’ll worry about the creases in it from being on the floor, but right now he can't think about anything but you.
“You're so beautiful,” he exhales heavily as he roams his gaze over your bra and panty-clad body. You're glad you wore one of your nice matching sets today, you think he deserves to see your nice lingerie for your first time together at least.
“So're you.” You reach around your back to unlatch your bra. Mingyu's eyes widen in interest for a second, then he moves in and pulls the straps from your shoulders so that he can also discard that piece of clothing, leaving you in your damp, slightly stretched-out panties. “How do you want me?” you ask as you hook your thumbs in the waistband, but Mingyu bats your hands away gently so that he can have the honour of stripping you naked.
“On your back,” he murmurs as he works the material down your thighs.
“Don't want me to ride you?” You offer.
Mingyu’s eyes snap up to you and he goes very quiet and still for a few seconds as the mental image of you bouncing on his cock assaults his mind. And then he's shaking it away with a physical shake of his head and nudging you down to your earlier position on your back, so that he can remove the last item keeping you from being as bare as him. “Not right now, I'll cum too fast,” he admits, settling between your thighs on his knees and just looking at you with his hands on your inner thighs just above your knees. “Might cum too fast anyway,” he confesses in a mumble, making you choke out a laugh at his abrupt confession. “Will you break up with me if I cum as soon as I feel your pussy on my cock?” he asks, looking genuinely worried at the thought and like he seriously wants an answer.
So, you take a breath so that you don't laugh again and shake your head a little. “No, Gyu, I won't break up with you if that happens.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” you assure, squeezing his hands a little. His left moves up to grab yours in return and lace your fingers together on your thigh.
“Okay.” He relaxes as he accepts your words as truth then looks down to focus on his right hand as it moves from your thigh and to between your legs. “I should've stretched you earlier when I had my mouth on you,” he realises, prodding at your entrance with his lips slightly protruding in concentration and a little regret at his lack of forethought destroying his plans of sliding into your pussy any second.
“Do you want me to do it?” you offer. Two of his fingers slide into you in answer, making your breath catch, but then you laugh a little at his reaction.
“No, nobody touches this pussy except me,” he argues firmly, already working to move his fingers within you, in and out, while scissoring them with his only goal to stretch you enough to comfortably fit his thick cock inside.
“I-I can't even t-touch my own body now?” you ask amused, but his fingers in you feel too good for you to actually put any emotion into your voice. You vaguely hope he doesn't take it the wrong way and does understand that you're trying to joke with him, but mostly you don't care how he takes it so long as he keeps stretching you out in that way.
It's a rushed job, you know that; you can tell that he obviously only wants one thing right now and this isn't for giving you any pleasure, but it still is. Maybe it's the way he's being a little rough about it without actually being rough; he's giving you the chance to adjust to his fingers, but he's already adding a third and jabbing them into you sooner than you would yourself.
“Not like this,” Mingyu answers, eyes still on his task between your thighs, though now he's seeing the way you're leaking even more, and he's sort of clicking back into the fact that he should consciously be making this good for you. Though the slick sounds mixed with your laboured breathing and intermittent soft moans tell him that he doesn't really need to try to make this good for you. But next time, next time he'll make you cum until the sheets are soaked down to the mattress before he puts his cock in you. “Are you on birth control?” the question feels entirely out of the blue so you can't be blamed for not answering and just blinking at him for a second. He slows his hand to a stop and lifts his head when you don't answer. “I really want to cum in you,” he explains.
“Oh, uh, no. I kept forgetting to take it,” you answer and feel genuinely bad when his expression falls. He looks kind of heartbroken. “I plan to get something else soon though, so in the future, you can.”
“Okay.” He smiles agreeably then removes his fingers from you to reach over to his bedside table, open it and rummage inside to find a condom.
“You'd have more luck if you let go of my hand,” you muse, watching him struggle to open the foil packet with one hand, the corner of it carefully held between his front teeth.
“No,” he refuses though closed teeth. There's a victorious sound from him when the foil rips open. He spits out the ripped piece of the packet to the side, and you watch the corner flutter away, knowing he’ll be annoyed at himself for littering his floor later. “Uhm,” his lost mutter draws your attention back to him. He's kneeling there, the tip of the condom pinched between his fingers as he stares between it and his erection. Clearly, he did not think this through.
You huff a soft almost silent laugh before you sit up and move his hand to his dick so that he can hold the condom and allow you to roll it down his length. He bites his lip and tries to not let your touch get to him.
“Teamwork,” Mingyu giggles when you lean back and look up at him. “We make a good team, right, baby?”
“Mm, the best,” you confirm, tugging him down by the back of his neck to connect your lips.
Mingyu's free hand brushes appreciatively over your arm before he starts to lean forward, urging you back slowly until you're against the mattress and he's over you with his right arm holding him up, his left hand still locked with yours, but now it's by your side.
You can feel his erection against you, the latex sliding against your thigh until you lift your legs to nudge him over a little by his hips. He presses down, gliding his cock over your folds and catching on your clit. He can't really get the position right like this though, not to slide into you.
Mingyu lifts your connected hands up to the pillow beside your head so that he can move his weight over to his left elbow and get his right hand between your bodies. He grasps his erection loosely, just enough of a grip to line himself up with your dripping hole. “Ready?” he breathes out after leaning up enough to look down into your eyes. You nod without hesitation, so he pushes in. He's only an inch into you and he's already convinced that your pussy is the greatest pussy that has ever or shall ever exist.
As Mingyu gradually feeds his thick length into you, you have the honour of watching his face contort beautifully in pained pleasure. He's trembling and his gaze is unfocused, even as he stares back down at you with his mouth dropped open wide without a single sound coming out. You're not even sure he's breathing, and honestly, you're not sure you are either.
The stretch of his cock against your walls is utterly mind-numbing. You've had your fair share of sexual partners in the past, and plenty of sex toys to keep yourself happy otherwise, but nothing, absolutely nothing has ever felt the way Mingyu feels tucked up snug inside of you. You're not sure if it's because his cock is just that good, big in all the right ways without being too big, or if it's just that you're in so fucking deep with this man that anything he does feels ridiculously good. You're leaning towards the latter, though you’re pretty certain that he has the most perfect cock to have ever graced this earth, if not the universe.
When Mingyu's hips finally press up against you, signalling that he is fully sheathed within you, you're half certain that you can feel him in your stomach and absently press down with your left hand just to test that theory. You can't feel him, but you can imagine it all the same and wrap your arm back around his neck loosely.
“You okay?” you whisper when he remains that way, eyes still unfocused on your face and both hands on either side of your head, where his right is gripping the pillow with everything in him.
“No,” he chokes out, finally blinking alert. “Feel so good,” he slurs. “Don't wanna cum yet, wanna stay in you forever.”
“You don't have to pull out right away.” You soothe your hand over the back of his neck, fingers digging into the muscles a little in an attempt to calm your overwhelmed boyfriend. “And I don't have any plans today, so we can spend as long as you want in bed, and you can fuck me again later when you're ready.”
“Really?” He perks up a little. “N-no plans?”
“No, baby; I wanted to be available for whatever you want to do today. Granted, I thought it might be a drive or trip somewhere, not sex.”
“Would you rather the trip?” he teases with a little smirk as he slowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock along your walls that try to keep him in place. His smirk wavers.
“No. Fuck me,” you reply firmly, knowing that he really can't hold out anymore. You really don't want him to either. He nods and thrusts back into you.
You expect him to move fast and frantic; to chase the pleasure he has been dancing along the precipice of for a while now. Yet Mingyu fucks you slowly, rolling his hips deep into you, and then all the way out until his tip is barely in you, before sliding back in. He fucks you like he's got something to prove. It reminds you of his earlier words, that he wants to show you what he doesn't yet have the words to say.
“I love you,” you blurt, suddenly overcome with the urge to say it.
Mingyu stills for a second, then surges down to kiss you passionately, spilling his response into your mouth wordlessly as his hips return to work. Now though, he barely pulls out before fucking back into you. It's more of a grind than anything, his body pressed close enough that his pubic bone is applying pressure to your clit in a way that is shattering you from your mind to your lower stomach.
Very quickly, the pleasure is too much for either of you to make your lips work further, so Mingyu leans up, propping himself up on his right elbow on the pillow, his fingers threading into your hair to hold you as his body continues to make your body burn brighter with every passing second.
His forehead presses to yours for a few seconds before he lifts his head and looks to his left. You look over too, wondering what could possibly be drawing his attention right now when he's fucking you like no one ever has before.
At first, you don't understand at all, all you can see in his line of sight is your hands. Which is nice, sure; the sight of your fingers locked together as he shows you how much he loves you with his cock buried deep within you and grinding against more sensitive spots than you ever knew you had before, though you don't understand his laser focus.
But then, you find the matching silver chains on your wrists, the hearts almost pressed together with the angle you’re holding each other, and you understand.
Those bracelets were always supposed to be a sign of love for him, even if you didn't know it. He had asked you to pick out bracelets for you to wear together so that he can always have a piece of you with him, and you a piece of him. You’ve exchanged hearts metaphorically, and quite literally now with the physical representations tied securely around your wrists.
Something about that very thought sends you tumbling into an intense orgasm without you realising it's going to happen until the blinding pleasure is washing over you. Your hands both grip Mingyu, one in his hand and the other around his back and drawing red lines into his shoulder blade. You're not even aware of it, of how you call his name and clamp down around his cock as you gush over it, promptly sending him spiralling into his own mind-numbing orgasm.
It's minutes before either of you return back to earth.
You're back first, blinking away the tears that you hadn't realised formed until now. Mingyu is pressing up against your chest with his head on your shoulder; the only movement of his body is the rise and fall of his back as his breathing starts to even out.
It hits you that you missed his orgasm; you’ve always wanted to know what he looks like during such intense pleasure, but you missed it thanks to your own. You frown a little, though a quick glance at your still connected hands reminds you that you are his and he is yours, therefore, this will not be your only chance to see his handsome features contort with pleasure.
“I love you, but I also love breathing,” you point out after a few minutes of tracing patterns on his back with your left hand. At first, his weight on you hadn't been too much, but it seems that your gentle trails on his sweat-sticky skin have made him relax a little too much and let his muscle-thick frame lay heavier on you.
“Mmm, can we still cuddle?” he requests, making no attempt to get up, though he does do his best to lean more onto his right elbow again, even without lifting up from your shoulder.
“Of course.” Though he still doesn't get off of you. “Are you going to move, Gyu?”
“But then I won't be in you.” You can hear the pout in his slightly muffled voice, even if you can't see it. “You're all warm, s'nice.”
“So, you'd rather cockwarm than let me breathe easily?”
He hesitates, then giggles when you tug on his ear with an offended gasp. “I'm joking, I'm joking!” He leans up entirely onto his elbow, freeing your torso from him. “I will always pick your health.”
“I should hope so.” He scrunches his nose at you playfully. You return it without hesitation.
Although he hadn't wanted to get up initially, Mingyu goes to the effort once off of you to go all the way to the bathroom once he has disposed of the soiled condom, where he fetches a warm damp cloth and a dry towel to clean you up first, then himself. You expect him to return to your side, but he saunters off again, allowing you to once again marvel at his exposed ass as he walks away, and returns with a couple of water bottles and an armful of snacks.
The water makes sense, you think, but the mass of snack packets is a little questioning, so you raise an eyebrow at him while you shuffle to sit up against the headboard and accept one of the bottles.
“What?” he innocently replies, putting the other bottle down on the side table to free his hand and allow him to set up the various snacks there too. “You said we can spend as long as I want in bed, I just want to be prepared, sweetheart.”
And well, you can't really argue with that, nor his cheeky, endearing smile, so you just laugh softly and hand over the open bottle to let him swallow down some of the cool liquid himself before he climbs up onto the bed and wraps his arms around your body to hold you in the way you’ve both wanted for so long.
Later, when you both have your energy back and Mingyu is no longer constantly on the verge of cumming too soon, he presses you back down against his bed all over again, so that he can see every expression on your face as he takes you apart piece by piece, just to see how you work at your very core. He learns all of your curves and edges so attentively and allows you to learn his in return.
By the time you're once again laid side by side much later, tucked up in each other's arms tired yet sated, you're certain that somewhere along the way, your pieces got mixed up and Mingyu found himself a permanent home in your chest. He’s taken a piece of you for his own and given you a matching piece of him in return.
You can't see it, but it feels an awful lot like his heart.
Silently, with nothing more than a soft kiss on his shoulder, you vow to him that you will spend your life protecting it with everything in you. And you're confident that he will do the same with yours as his lips press to your head in return.
Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
Synopsis: You recently discovered a new favourite restaurant—and a hot chef to go with it. What you didn't expect was to end up as his special dish.
Pairing: chef!Seungcheol x afab!reader
Genre: smut, non-idol! au, chef! au, oneshot
Rating: mature
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: food play, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), semi-public sex, dom!Seungcheol, sub!reader, big dick!Seungcheol, creampie, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: Happy Cherry day! Here's my mandatory fic for daddy Cheol! This combines these requests, hope you enjoy anonies!
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Read on ao3
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
You're scrolling through your phone, humming to yourself as you try to find a place for dinner. Being a bit of a foodie, you love exploring new spots every now and then—but nothing's really catching your eye tonight. That is, until you stumble upon a newly opened restaurant nearby. Curious, you check the reviews and are pleasantly surprised to see people raving about it, calling it one of the best meals they've ever had. Smiling to yourself, you decide you've got to try it out.
Once you arrive, a waiter named Vernon ushers you to your table. You go for the most recommended dish on the menu and take in the aesthetic around you while waiting.
When the food finally arrives, you're practically drooling at the sight. You don't even bother with snapping a picture—you just dig right in. And the moment it hits your tongue, you're in love. The reviews weren't exaggerating—this really is the best food you've ever had. You devour the whole dish, savouring every bite.
You already know you're going to be a regular here.
Ever since that day, you've made it a point to come back every single day—haven't missed one yet. You've worked your way through most of the menu by now, and honestly? You can't even pick a favourite. Everything is just so goddamn good.
Today, you order their special, and the moment you take a bite, you hum in delight. If it were possible, you'd get on your knees and worship the chef—that's how good it is.
"Oh, Vernon!" you call out, stopping the waiter as he walks by.
"Yes? Can I get you anything?" he asks.
"I need you to help me compliment the chef," you say, eyes wide with sincerity. "I don't know what magic they're working back there, but tell them to never stop. This is incredible. Kiss them on the mouth if you can."
"Uh…not sure I can manage the kissing part, but I'll definitely let him know you enjoyed it," he says, chuckling as he disappears into the kitchen.
A few moments later, Vernon returns with someone by his side. You look up and nearly choke on your drink. Standing next to him is, presumably, the chef—and he's drop-dead gorgeous. Blonde hair, a solid, muscular build, pouty lips, sharp jawline…he looks like he walked straight out of Mount Olympus.
"Hello, Miss. I'm the chef, Seungcheol," he says with a warm smile, and your breath catches when you see the dimple that appears on his cheek. "Vernon told me you had some kind words about the food—I really appreciate it."
"O-Oh," you stammer, suddenly hyper-aware of how flustered you feel under his gaze. "It's nothing, really. You deserve it. This is honestly one of the best meals I've ever had."
Seungcheol chuckles softly at your words.
"Thank you, Miss. That means a lot—especially coming from a pretty lady like you," he says with a slight bow, and you feel your cheeks flush instantly.
He gives you a small smirk before turning back toward the kitchen, leaving you fanning your face in an attempt to cool down.
Just as you're finishing your meal, Vernon places a plate of brownies in front of you.
"Um, I didn't order dessert?" you ask, puzzled.
"It's complimentary," Vernon says with a knowing smile. "From the chef. He said—and I quote—'a sweet treat for the sweet customer.'"
"Oh." You can't help but blush as you accept the plate, laughing softly.
You take a bite of the brownie and straight up moan. It's divine. You swear you've ascended. Nothing has ever tasted this good. If this is what heaven is like, you're ready to go. But instead of inhaling it like usual, you slow down, letting yourself savour every bite.
When you finally finish, you notice something tucked beneath the plate—a small piece of paper. Curious, you pick it up and see a phone number scrawled across it.
XXX-XXXXXXXXX
I'd love to get to know my sweet customer more :) - Seungcheol
You bite your bottom lip and slip the note into your pocket, heart pounding in your chest.
One text turned into five, five into ten—and now here you are, standing in front of your favourite restaurant—a date with the hot chef himself. After spending an hour at home debating whether or not to text Seungcheol, you finally gathered the courage and hit send. To your surprise, he replied almost instantly. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself getting flustered every time he flirted. When he asked you out to dinner, you didn't hesitate to say yes, which brings you to this very moment.
You take a deep breath, smoothing out your dress one last time before stepping inside—only to find the place eerily empty.
"Uh…hello?" you call out, slightly confused.
Before your nerves can spiral, Seungcheol steps out of the kitchen, flashing that gorgeous smile. Your heart does a little flip as your eyes trail down his outfit—a sharp suit and a white dress shirt that clings just right to his broad chest.
"Y/N! You made it," he greets, walking over.
"Cheol, where is everyone? Why's the place empty?" you ask, eyes darting around the vacant restaurant.
"I closed it down for the night," he grins. "Thought we could have a private dinner—just the two of us."
Your heart skips a beat at the gesture.
"Come on, sit. I'll bring out the food," he says, pulling out a chair for you like a true gentleman.
You take your seat, and he disappears into the kitchen, returning shortly with the entrée.
"Made something new just for you. Hope you like it," he says with that signature dimpled smile.
You take a bite and instantly hum in delight.
"Cheol, seriously—what do you put in this? Why is everything you make so goddamn good?" you say with a soft moan, making him chuckle.
Dinner goes on effortlessly—he keeps surprising you with your favourite dishes, and you keep blushing at his thoughtful little touches. Every gesture feels intimate, every look makes your heart flutter.
Soon enough, he brings out dessert: a cherry-flavoured treat topped with a generous swirl of whipped cream.
"This is my signature dessert," he hums, resting his chin in his hand as he watches you.
You take a bite, closing your eyes to fully savour the way it melts on your tongue.
"How is it?" he asks.
"Divine," you reply sincerely, making him chuckle.
He takes a bite for himself, and a bit of whipped cream lands on his lips. You can't help but stare as he licks it off—and he catches you looking, smirking knowingly.
"You know," he begins with a chuckle, "Vernon did mention something about you asking him to give me a kiss."
Your face instantly heats up.
He leans in slightly, the ambient light hitting his features just right, soft and golden, making him look almost ethereal.
"I wouldn't mind getting that kiss from you," he purrs, voice low and teasing.
Your heart stumbles in your chest, breath hitching. You bite your bottom lip and slowly lean in, cheeks flushed. Seungcheol chuckles at your hesitation, then closes the gap between you, meeting you halfway.
The moment your lips touch, you melt.
The kiss is slow, tender—you can taste the cherries lingering on his tongue.
"I think you might be sweeter than the dessert," he murmurs against your lips before pulling you in again, this time with a deeper, hungrier kiss.
He dominates the kiss effortlessly, and you surrender, letting him take control. His hand slides behind you, pulling you flush against him. A soft moan escapes you as he teases your tongue, his grip possessive.
You let out a startled squeak when he lifts you without effort, settling you onto his lap.
"Better," he murmurs against your lips before claiming them again.
Your fingers twist into his blonde hair, tugging sharply—just enough to draw a low growl from him. His hands roam, leaving heat in their wake, and you can feel yourself growing wetter with every touch. Desperate, you roll your hips against him, aching for more.
"Impatient, are we?" He chuckles, dark and amused.
"Cheol, please," you whine, grinding down again.
In one swift motion, he lifts you onto an empty table nearby, your dress riding up. Plucking a cherry from the dessert, he places it between your lips with a smirk.
"Keep it there," he orders before diving back in.
The kiss is messy, hungry—cherry juice smearing between your mouths as he devours you. When he finally pulls back, his lips are stained cherry red, his hair dishevelled, and his gaze burns with satisfaction.
He shrugs off his jacket in one swift motion, rolling up his sleeves to reveal those veiny forearms you can't help but stare at.
Your breath hitches as he hikes your dress higher, fingers hooking into your panties and sliding them down, leaving you bare. The cool air kisses your exposed flesh, drawing a shiver from you.
"Fuck, you're already dripping," he growls, dragging a finger through your slick folds. The touch makes you whimper, hips twitching toward him.
"Wanna taste you," he murmurs, but instead of diving in, he reaches for the dessert with a wicked smirk.
Confusion flickers across your face—until he scoops up a spoonful of whipped cream and smears it right over your aching core. You gasp as the cold sweetness contrasts with the heat between your thighs.
Then his tongue is on you, licking a slow, deliberate stripe through the cream. You whine, back arching.
"Fuck, you taste even sweeter like this," he moans against you.
He adds more cream, lapping at you like a man starved, as if he hadn't just finished a meal. Your fingers fist in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans in approval. When your thighs instinctively squeeze around his head, his strong hands force them apart again, relentlessly.
"Cheol—!" You cry out as your first orgasm crashes over you, thighs trembling, vision blurring. But he doesn't stop, tongue working you through it, coaxing out every last drop.
A second peak hits even harder, your entire body tensing as pleasure whites out your mind. You babble his name like a prayer, but he only drinks you in deeper, greedy.
When he finally pulls back, your juices—and whipped cream—glisten on his chin. The sight is obscenely delicious. You whimper, boneless and ruined.
"Already tired, sweetheart?" he taunts, a smirk playing on his lips. "And here I thought you could handle me."
"No—please," you whine, squirming beneath him. "Need you inside me."
A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest as he unzips his pants, freeing his cock. Your breath hitches at the sight—god, he's huge.
In one swift motion, he drags you to the edge of the table, your legs hooked over his arms.
"Ready?" he asks, though the hunger in his voice says he won't wait. You nod desperately.
The moment he pushes in, your back arches, a broken moan tearing from your throat. He fills you, stretching you so deep you swear his tip kisses your cervix.
"S-So big," you gasp, nails biting into his shoulders.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, grip bruising on your thighs. "Perfect fucking fit."
Then he moves—hard, relentless thrusts that have you clawing at him. Every snap of his hips drags his cock against your walls, the thick veins rubbing you just right.
"Wanna fuck you right against the glass," he growls, "so everyone can see how good you take it."
The thought sends a shudder through you, your breath coming in sharp, needy whimpers.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" His voice is rough, fingers digging into your hips. "Being watched while I ruin you?"
All you can do is moan, your body clenching around him.
"Dirty girl," he murmurs, amused and feral.
Your cries pitch higher, thighs trembling as your climax builds. Seungcheol doesn't let up, his thumb circling your clit with ruthless precision.
"Cum for me," he commands—and you shatter, screaming his name as your ears ring from the overwhelming pleasure. He follows with a few final, deep thrusts, spilling inside you with a groan.
For a moment, there's only the sound of ragged breaths. Then he pulls out, and you whimper at the slick heat dripping from you. Gently, he helps you into your panties, fingers brushing your skin.
When he cups your face, his gaze is heavy, possessive.
"Wanna clean up at my place?"
You grin, still breathless. "Thought you'd never ask."
(where your boyfriend suggests testing out a theory from a comment on a video)
pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader
genre: est. relationship, idolverse | smut
rating: explicit, this is mostly porn so MDNI !!
wc: ~3.6k
warnings: minor plot? really just them being in love and talking, otherwise just porn. so much kissing, face sitting/riding, talk about dk's nose (yes, this is warning), briefest mention of breath play, cum eating (kinda, implied), blowjob/handjob, multiple orgasms (reader rec.), slight edging/orgasm denial, fingering (reader rec.), unprotected sex (they're in love, assume they're safe), creampie, petnames (baby, babe), reader has female anatomy but no gendered language used, i think that's it but lemme know if it's not!
a/n: this entire thing is really thanks to @sailorsoons sending me a video of dk's nose entirely too early in the morning yesterday. so credit to my chaos demon hali for the idea, the banner, and the title. idk why but i struggle to write him (yes, i know he is my ult bias, it's fine). please enjoy my first attempt at returning to writing shorter fics.
a/n 2: not edited and no beta, we die like men!
It’s a lazy morning in bed with your boyfriend. A complete rarity given how busy his schedule is and how often he has to travel out of the country. Still, you love him enough that you'll take these moments. It makes them all the more special. And you know that he’s infinitely thankful for you being so understanding of his schedule. It’s just part of him. You love him and his schedule seems like a small price to pay in exchange for the type of love he gives you. Especially when he never makes you feel less important than everything else in his life.
When he comes back to bed with coffees for both of you (and sets yours on your side of the bed), you’re scrolling through Tiktok. Somehow, no matter what you interact with, you get videos of your boyfriend or his other group members pushed to you. Their fault, honestly, for being so insanely popular. Thankfully, your boyfriend never seems to react when the video is of someone else rather than him. He knows that it’s unavoidable. Even seems to enjoy it by teasing him saying someone else is your bias.
“I can’t take any of these videos seriously when I know Mingyu gets scared of his own shadow,” you say through a snort when a video of him pops up. Seokmin glances over from his phone and laughs too. “Like, really, I have heard him scream at a bug. I can’t take him seriously when he’s trying to be all sexy.”
“I’m glad you don’t think he’s sexy,” he says with an affectionate smile.
“Oh, haven’t I told you? I think he’s my bias now,” you say. It gets you an exasperated eye roll.
“Come on,” he says. “At least pick someone other than the most popular bias.”
“Mmm, I think I’ll stick with what I have,” you say and turn back to your phone.
Seokmin leans over and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “That’s my girl.”
Another comfortable silence falls around you, only broken by whatever song comes through as you scroll. Seokmin is in a meme battle with some of his group members, mostly so that he doesn’t have sound competing with you. When you land on the next video, and this time it’s your own boyfriend, he’s too distracted to notice. It seems innocuous on first glance, just highlighting what a nice nose he has. You definitely agree. Even look over to the side at his profile. He’s so stunning and it takes your breath away to get to see him relaxing like this.
Then, you return to the video and check the comments out of curiosity. Always an interesting decision. Unsurprisingly, it takes approximately 2 seconds before the comments turn at least partly feral. Start talking about how to put his insanely nice nose to use. Saying the kinds of things that might make you blush in another situation. But, this isn’t anything new. It’s not the first time, and certainly won’t be the last, you stumble across someone thirsting over Seokmin.
You turn to the side again and admire his profile. This time, focusing on his nose. The slope, the way the tip of it sticks out. You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t even realize when he feels your eyes on him.
“You’re staring,” he comments.
“Busted,” you answer guiltily. And, because he knows you, he looks down at your phone.
“This isn’t even a thirst edit. It’s just my nose,” he says with that bright smile.
“Look at the comments,” you say and hold out your phone. He takes it with an eyebrow raised and reads. For a moment, his eyes go wide. But, then they settle into something a little more like desire. Something that gives you a flutter in your belly.
He hands back his phone and gives you that look that you know all too well. “Maybe we should test out the theory.”
“What theory?” you ask to buy yourself a little time.
“How my nose feels between your legs.”
“Baby, I know how your nose feels, you’ve…”
Seokmin points at a specific comment still open on your phone. “No. I want you to ride my face and test it out. See if it feels as good as all these people seem to think.”
It makes you nearly choke on air for a second. Here’s the thing about your boyfriend. He’s the sunshine member in his group. The one that smiles and makes everyone else smile. The one with the voice of a literal angel. He’s not (typically) the slutty member. He’s one of the silly ones. Of course, every once in a while, he does a photoshoot that sends the fandom into shambles. It’s not the default, though. Then, there’s Seokmin, your boyfriend, who is definitely still sunshine personified, but he’s so much more than that, too. He can be so singularly focused on your own needs that it overwhelms you. This isn’t any different.
“God, I love you,” you say after you take a moment to catch your breath.
He gives you the briefest flash of his sweet smile before he takes your phone to put it on the nightstand. You pull your t-shirt off and toss it aside. Shimmy out of your panties next since you don’t typically wear anything else to bed. Seokmin removes his own shirt as well. And then he settles back with his head on the pillow and looks up at you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do. Until he smiles and you’re at ease.
You move over and settle yourself so that your knees are on either side of his head. Lower yourself carefully so that you think he’ll be able to reach you. Without warning, he wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you further down onto his face. Makes you let out a soft gasp. So much for making sure you don’t suffocate him. That’s before he even does anything. Almost like he wants to prove a point, he nuzzles his nose into your folds. Lets his nose hit your clit and pulls a soft sound out of you.
“Oh fuck,” you whisper just as he licks a stripe up your core.
It’s immediately more intense. Seokmin has eaten you out before. More times than you can count, honestly. It’s one of his favorite things to do. And his nose always brushes along to almost tease you. So, you think you know what to expect here. You don’t. Not really. He buries his tongue even deeper into you from this angle and his nose brushes past your clit on each pass. Seems like he’s swirling his tongue inside you just to tease you more.
You lean forward and grip the headboard as he continues to lap into you. Feel the way he hums into you and it sends vibrations through you. You dig your knees further into the mattress to keep yourself suspended over his face, even as he holds you tight. Wonder how he can even breathe buried so deep in your pussy. Maybe that’s just as much a part of it. Shocking that he would enjoy something so close to breath play.
The string of words that slip from your mouth is sinful. Not even coherent, really. Just endless moans and praise for how good he makes you feel. You grip the headboard even harder to try and hold yourself in place. Seokmin takes the chance to move his mouth again and suck your clit into his mouth. To make you buck forward before remembering that he’s captive beneath you. It’s hard to focus on not moving your weight too much.
“Babe, I’m gonna…fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” you start babbling, thighs shaking as you feel yourself losing control.
Seokmin doesn’t stop tonguing into your cunt. Lets his nose keep running over your clit with every pass. You try to pull yourself off of him, but he grips your legs tightly. Doesn’t let you go anywhere. Just keeps pushing you.
“Baby, please,” you whine and he squeezes your leg comfortingly. Like he’s telling you that it’s okay. And so you take him at his word. Just let go. Your body shakes with the intensity of the orgasm. It’s all you can do to keep your weight offset. Clinging hard to the headboard as your legs shake on either side of your boyfriend’s face. You know you must coat his face with the intensity of your orgasm, but he laps it all up. Happily swallows the results of his effort.
He’s so patient as you come back down and eventually roll over. This time, he lets you go. Lets you fall back onto the bed next to him.
He doesn’t let you rest for long, though. Justs runs the back of his hand across his mouth and then rolls himself over. Suspends himself over your body without resting his weight on you. Kisses you hard, desperate. A little needy. His face is a mess that you made and you don’t care. Instead, you just wrap your arms around him and pull him down, flush against your body. The weight of him doesn’t matter. You relish it, actually. Tangle yourself up in him as you kiss him fiercely.
After a minute, he pulls back to look at you. Face a mixture of admiration and desire. You’re sure that you look a little drunk off your orgasm. Glassy eyed as you look up at him. Something on your face must give away how gone you are because he smiles knowingly. Moves his hand to gently brush a piece of hair off your face. Then slides off of you so he can lay next to you, almost curl against your side.
“So, what do you think?” he asks, gently running a finger along your arm.
“I think it’s very lucky your fans don’t see this side of you,” you say, causing him to bark out a surprised laugh.
“Why’s that?” he asks after a moment.
“Becuase they’d be even more feral than Mingyu’s fans,” you return, making him laugh even harder. “I’m serious, Seok, do you remember when you did that photoshoot? It nearly broke the internet!”
“And you teased me over it,” he points out, making you laugh.
“Yeah, so I didn’t go crazy,” you grumble and roll onto your side to face him. Let him reach out to pull you into him. “Sometimes I think you don’t realize how insanely hot you are.”
“Mmm, is that so?” he asks in that low voice that shoots right to your core. You let him pull you into him and slide an arm under your neck. You hike a leg up over his hip to eliminate any space. Feel the way his dick brushes against you through his shorts.
“Do you need me to tell you again?” you tease him. Grind a little into him.
“Doesn’t hurt to hear it.”
“Was it not enough that I just came all over your face?”
“It’s a start,” he says. Leans forward to give you a tender kiss at complete odds with the mood. The wonderful duality of your boyfriend.
“I should really ask if you liked it,” you say softly into the thin space between you and him.
“Honestly, I’m probably going to be demanding you do that all the time now,” he admits and it makes you pull back to get a better look at him. “The way I could feel everything. The way I was totally at your mercy. The way it was a little hard to breathe. You’re so unbelievably sexy.”
It makes your breath catch. Even now, when you think you know him better than yourself, he still manages to surprise you. Makes you a little shy before you shift into just feeling powerful that you have this effect on him. “Yes, though, the comment was right. You do have the perfect nose. The way it hit…”
You shudder at the memory. Seokmin grips your thigh that’s draped over him possessively. Makes you realize that you’re still completely naked and he’s not. Which feels unfair.
“Maybe you should tell them,” he suggests and you just shake your head.
“I can think of things I’d rather do with you,” you counter, pressing further into him.
“Good answer,” he confirms and kisses you again. Slow and deliberate.
At least, until he pulls away, making you pout. He laughs for a moment and leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Then he gets out of the bed and pulls his shorts and briefs down in one go. You track his movements with so much interest. Don’t think you’ll ever get used to appreciating his body. He’s beautiful. Without waiting any longer, you move over to the edge of the bed. Surprise him a little when you lay on your stomach and reach out to him.
“You don’t…”
“Let me,” you insist.
At least he knows better than to argue with you. For now, that is. He moves closer to the edge of the bed and you take his length into your hand. Spit down onto his cock and then look up at him. Watch the way he reacts when you slowly run your hand up and down his dick. His eyes flutter closed just for a second. Appreciate how much you like to take care of him. As soon as your lips touch his tip, his eyes fly back open. Wants to watch as you swirl your tongue around. Eyes full of affection for just a moment. And then you reach down to take gently grasp his balls while taking more of his length into your mouth. His eyes go dark nearly immediately.
Seokmin gathers your hair up in his hands to keep it out of your face as you bob on his dick. Mostly keeping it shallow. Keep him guessing, too, when you suddenly take as much of him as you can handle. Choking a little as you let him hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck, what are you doing to me?” he asks, voice cracking. It’s hard for him not to fully fuck your face. You feel in it the way he grips your hair. The way his hips jerk ever so slightly. The way his groans turn downright sinful. The only sound in the bedroom apart from your slurps and occasional gags when you take him deeper into your mouth. It gets you going just as much when he’s like this. Putty in your hands and completely out of control. Gives you kind of a complex to know that he trusts you in that way. He may be the one standing while you lay on the bed on your stomach, but you’re in control. Just like you felt in control riding his face.
When you pull off to catch your breath, Seokmin drops your hair and drops to his knees. Kisses you desperately. Like a man on a mission. A man who can’t see anything but you. You break the kiss, intending to make your boyfriend come, but he stops you.
“What?” you ask, eyebrows knit in confusion.
“I really just wanna fuck you,” he says. Blunt. Direct. A little needy. It goes straight to your head, knowing that you make as much of a mess of him as he does of you.
“Well, how could I deny you anything?” you ask with a smirk.
“Good,” he says and gives you that smile. The one you know only means good things for you. The one he doesn’t really let anyone else see. It’s a little private piece of him just for you. “Roll over.”
It’s direct and you consider teasing him just for a moment. Testing to see how badly he wants you. The look he gives you stops you, though. He’s wound tight. Ready to go. And you could probably say you teased him all through riding his face and then sucking his dick. So, you do as he asks this time. Just turn over and prop yourself on your elbows to watch Seokmin.
He’s impatient, though. Hooks his arms behind your knees and pulls you to the very edge of the bed. Drops to his knees and spreads your legs open. Licks into your cunt without warning.
“Fuck!” you scream. You’re not prepared. It makes your back arch against the bed. Makes you grasp at the sheets beneath you.
Seokmin moves to flick his tongue over your clit and slides a finger into you. Pumps quickly and mutters encouraging words into your cunt. Adds a second finger and scissors them open to stretch you. It’s all too much for you with the earlier orgasm. Has you on the edge of something before you can even process it. And then, just like that, he pulls his fingers out and pulls back from your throbbing cunt. Stands up and gives you that look.
“You’re a fucking demon,” you curse and fall back against the bed dramatically.
“Told you I wanna fuck you,” he says, moving to the nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube and returns to the edge of the bed. “I wasn’t going to let you come again just like that when I want to feel you.”
“Ugh,” you say and close your eyes. Throw an arm over your face for effect. Hear the way he chuckles as he opens the bottle of lube. He dribbles some along your entrance and the cold feel of it makes you squirm. Makes you open your eyes in time to see him coating his dick in some as well.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you beg,” he teases as he tosses the bottle aside.
“You’re still a shit,” you counter.
Instead of answering, he only lines his dick up at your entrance. Watches you carefully as he gently presses the tip in. You watch the way he slowly disappears into you. Wrap your legs around his hips so that you can encourage him to move faster. All you get is a chuckle, likely at your impatience. But, you’re sensitive both from the earlier orgasm and him bringing you right to the edge a second time, only to back off. A demon, like you always say.
“Please, Seok,” you beg. You’re not above anything when it comes to him.
“Please, what?” he asks.
“Just fuck me. Wanna really feel you,” you say, breathy and needy. He loves you like this just as much. Loves knowing that you’re only like this for him. That you’re as whipped for him as he is for you.
“Whatever my pretty baby wants,” he says.
Quickly, he pulls nearly all the way out of you, only to immediately snap back in. Causes you to scream out in response. Thankfully, he sets a quicker pace, probably just as wound up as you are. He fucks into you, hard and fast. You tangle your hands in the sheets for something to hold onto. Close your eyes against the rapid way your lower belly coils. Until he asks you to look at him and can you deny him anything? He leans forward and catches your next moan in a searing kiss. The kind that makes you forget your name or his or anything else in the world.
He pulls back from the kiss and moves your legs so your ankles are up on his shoulders. It lets him press you deeper into the mattress with each thrust. Lets him hit you even deeper, reaching that spot where you need him most. There’s a steady stream of praise coming out of his mouth with his thrust. All you can do is moan between incoherent thoughts. Your pussy is so sensitive and he fills you so well. Fucks you just the way you like. Knows how to claim you so completely that you can’t imagine anyone else in the world existing apart from him.
“Oh my god! I’m gonna…fuck, I’m gonna come!” you scream.
“Come up, baby, I wanna feel you come all over my dick,” he says, voice strained between his thrusts.
“Oh fuck,” you scream. Clench your pussy around his dick as he keeps pumping into you. Come hard on him. Somehow even harder than you did riding his face. His thrusts falter and he groans as he releases his load into you. Tries to keep slowly pumping through it, both of you breathing hard. He lets your legs fall from his shoulders and stills inside you.
After another moment, he slowly pulls himself out of you, careful because he knows your tender. Can’t help but watch the way his cum leaks out of you. Fights the urge to push it back inside you and collapses on the bed beside you. Scoots both of you further back onto the bed so that he can pull you close into his body.
“We’re gonna make a mess of the bed,” you mumble against his skin when he gets you tangled up in him once again.
“I don’t care,” he says and you chuckle. He presses a soft kiss against your head, into your hair.
“I should get up and…” you start, only for Seokmin to cling you closer into his body.
“Nope.”
“But the sheets…”
Seokmin turns your face so that he can meet your eye. Kisses you for what feels like the millionth time. Lets his tongue tangle with yours. And pulls back before you’re ready, making you chase his lips. “The sheets can wait. I’m not done with you yet.”
Desire sparkles in your eyes, just like you see it in his. You bite your lip as you consider his words. Wonder just what he might have planned. “Mmm, is that so?”
“Oh, yes.”
Lazy days like this with your boyfriend might not come around as often as you’d like, but he sure knows how to make up for it when they do.