catboymingi

[catboymingi]

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[catboymingi]

i keep gaining followers on here so another reminder: i have moved over to @mingkiii where i actually actively post!

[catboymingi]

happily ever after - veninder epilogue

IMPORTANT: i have actually entirely moved blogs over to @mingkiii​ & am only posting this here because i do not know yet if/when i will move veninder over to my new blog. seeing how this is the last chapter and i would have to repost all other ones on a schedule before ever getting to post this i have decided to have this be my final piece of writing on this blog, just so those who did read this multichapter actually get to see the end of it. thank you all for your patience & understanding, & i hope to see you on my new blog as well

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst, fluff; best friends to lovers au

word count: 2.7k

warnings: language, some violence, hints at abuse

a/n: we did it lads this is the veninder epilogue and that’s why it’s so short… we reached the end there’s just happiness after this, happiness and maybe a baby or two

jeg ved at det er kærlighed - i know that it’s love

judging by the smile on your faces when you came back to mingi’s place the date had gone well, something that would’ve caused some teasing if you hadn’t taken off to the tall redhead’s room right after. and even though you sometimes went a little strong on the lovey-dovey behaviour the boys were glad to see the way the two of you were interacting. they were glad that you were still going strong after two months, and were glad that you were finally able to express yourself and believe that things wouldn’t be ruined even if there were hard moments and bumps along the way. that was how every relationship went, but mingi treated you the best he could, tried his best to never hurt you if he could avoid it. so your relationship was as perfect as it could be, you were as in love as you could be, and there was only one thing tainting the relationship that left a smile on not only mingi’s and your, but also the boys’ faces - your ex-friends, who still seemed desperate to ruin things for you even though they now had much less options.

the day after your first love confession was another time where they tried to make you feel bad, though their attempts got poorer and poorer with time, something that didn’t leave you any more relaxed because you knew they’d be planning a massive coup sooner or later just to get back at you. you hated to admit it, but it still affected you, their obvious hatred for you. you didn’t understand just what you’d done so wrong to deserve them trying to ruin your entire life - were you really not allowed happiness? had your father been right when he’d taught you to obey and ignore your own wants and needs?

“angel”, mingi disrupted your wandering thoughts during lunch, having noticed that they went in directions they shouldn’t be going. “what’s wrong?”

now eight curious and worried faces were turned towards you, but you just shook your head.

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

they accepted this, especially since you were still in university and you wouldn’t be able to take as much time as you needed if you ended up breaking down now, so they just left you alone about this, instead trying to cheer you up through teasing each other, something that did work, especially when they now, months after the happening, revealed mingi’s common contact name in all their phones to you, the name that hadn’t been changed ever since they first decided that ‘simp’ was fitting.

“hey!”, your boyfriend complained, but you just smiled at him, pressing a lipsticky kiss to his cheek which made him smile like an idiot as well and his friends laugh even harder because he looked like a lipstick advertisement or a vintage valentine’s day card with the lipstick mark right there.

“hold on”, getting out your makeup wipes because it didn’t stay hidden to you why his friends were laughing, and then you cleaned his cheek until the last remnants of your lipstick were gone and mingi was smiling like a much less stereotypically whipped idiot.

“do you want me to come over tonight?”, mingi asked, wanting to have the chance to talk to you by himself without the boys there, and he knew you preferred to have serious conversations at your place just because it felt more private.

you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder after, and you wished you could just stay like this, but sadly you had one more class to visit, something you did reluctantly, and it was only okay because mingi brought you there and kissed you goodbye and now had slightly red lips as well, an absolutely adorable sight that made you forget about your worries for a moment.

your worries returned soon after, though, when you sat in class and knew that if something happened you’d have to deal with it by yourself, even though nothing happened today. the anxiety was still there, and it made it hard for you to stay concentrated, and this was obvious to mingi when he picked you up after class.

“let’s go home, angel” was the first thing he’d said after he’d said hello to you, noticing how your expression didn’t light up the way it usually did around him, a half-assed smile the most he could get from you.

he held your hand but didn’t say much on the way, knowing that you’d probably prefer to be home before your anxiety came crashing down on you, so he just tried to show you that he was there physically, through squeezing your hand or rubbing small circles next to your thumb with his thumb. he wanted you to know that he was there, and you knew he was, grateful but not much less anxious.

“what’s wrong?”, he asked as soon as you were in your dorm and had taken your shoes off, but you didn’t want to speak yet, you wanted a hug, something he’d gladly provide.

“i’m just anxious”, you told him, removing your face from his shirt soon after because you realised that you’d be leaving makeup stains if you weren’t careful.

“scared that they’ll somehow manage to ruin things anyway. i don’t know what to expect from them but i know it’s nothing good.”

“i get it”, his arms still around you, holding you tightly to ground you a little.

“but i’m here. even if it won’t stop them, at least you won’t be alone.”

you wished this would have calmed you more, but it didn’t. you feared the worst from them because so far all their plans had gone wrong, and you knew they could be desperate and absolutely ruthless when they were desperate, and you really didn’t like knowing that you were their current favourite victim.

“what if it gets too much? i don’t know, if they hurt you or something. i couldn’t stand myself if they hurt you.”

he just held you even closer because he didn’t have anything good to say to that. he could understand it - the thought of you getting hurt because of him was enough to make him want to cry right there, and he knew that if anything happened to him you’d feel like it was your fault.

“we’ll be okay, angel. i love you and that’s most important to me right now”, rubbing your back in an attempt to prevent the tears he could hear in your voice from falling, or to calm you if they did.

“can i take a shower? i don’t want to leave you here by yourself but i think it’d help”, you asked, and “of course” he replied, because if it helped then he’d let you do pretty much whatever.

“i’ll wait here”, and he did, waited for you to come back, you wearing the tie dye shirt you’d gotten from him and shorts or no shorts, the world may never know, and had a towel turban on your head.

“i love you too”, you told him first thing as soon as you were nestled in his arms, because you’d neglected saying that when you’d left him to shower, and even though you felt shy saying it it was more important to you that he knew how you felt than it was that you weren’t embarrassed because you talked about your feelings.

“thank you”, kissing the towel turban and your forehead, smiling at your small cuddly form in his arms - you looked so sweet right now, mingi felt a deep need to protect you, and he would. he’d do all he could.

//

the more time passed the stronger your anxiety got, and the more mingi wished he had a way to solve this for you because it hurt him to see you like this. he wasn’t the only one, either, the boys talking more than once about how they’d be able to get this situation sorted. but they never were able to come up with anything, because there wasn’t really anything to do - talking wouldn’t help, this much was obvious, and they weren’t the type to be violent if it wasn’t absolutely needed, like that time san had needed to protect you.

it was fate that gave them a solution, fate and your ex-friends being so desperate to make you pay that they turned to violence when your current friends had refrained from that the entire time. they really did seem desperate, because one time after your class, during lunch break, they cornered you, stared you down and snarled at you.

“where’s your little bodyguard now?”, knowing that mingi wasn’t there right now, that wednesdays was the day you’d meet at lunch because he’d be late to pick you up anyway due to his class being at a whole different end of the building.

and you were panicked, but part of you was relieved. they’d beat you up and hopefully they’d leave you alone later, now that you’d gotten your punishment for daring to question their authority, and a beating wasn’t something you couldn’t take. it wasn’t like you could do anything, anyway, your body in freeze mode as it awaited the pain it knew was to come.

but your little bodyguard had been looking for you with his friends when you weren’t at the table yet when he arrived, and your little bodyguard wasn’t stupid, so he went to your classroom first, checking the nearby area to see if you were there. he found you, covering your face but making no other effort to defend yourself as you were kicked in the legs and hit in the stomach, still standing so it couldn’t have gone on for too long. and while he saw red that moment yeosang managed to remain cool enough to get out his phone and film the scene, knowing that the boys would protect you, and knowing that this would finally give you an opportunity to have your peace. so he filmed the situation, even though he wanted nothing more than to protect you, too, but logic told him that this would protect you more long-term.

so he filmed the boys pulling your ex-friends away, filmed them saying that you deserved it, and first turned the recording off when some other student had gotten a teacher because mingi had to be held back by three of his friends or he would’ve ignored his resolution to never hurt those weaker than him, because they’d been the ones to hurt you first.

yeosang was the one to show the video to the teacher, then later to some kind of university council that ended up getting the girls expelled, and to the police, too, because there was no way these girls would get away without legal prosecution.

and even though the situation had been horrible and even though your boyfriend had refused to let you go for more than a shower or your trips to the toilet this situation finally brought you the peace you’d desired, and mingi swore he’d marry yeosang if he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with you.

you finally got rid of your anxiety along with your tormentors, and you truly thrived now that you no longer feared them. your friends had never seen you happier, and you soon found yourself new acquaintances, too, people to spend time with so you wouldn’t feel like you’d stolen mingi’s friends, though neither he nor the boys would ever complain about that - they loved you too much and were glad about any second you spent with them.

you thrived in your studies, too - mingi continued taking the follow-up sociolinguistics courses with you and somehow made it fit with his schedule, and he bribed you into taking a course in whatever the bigger field of probability was called with him just because it fit with your schedule and he loved you so much and because, as he framed it, “it’s not fair that i’m dealing with all the lects and you’re not even dealing with a small number, not even a tiny one”. and because you loved him so much you couldn’t say no to him, so you found yourself taking an extra maths course the rest of your four semesters at university, which you somehow managed to stay with mingi and as in love as you were in the beginning, though by now the homely comfort had set in. he’d moved out of the boys’ common dorm and in with you about a year into your relationship, during the big summer semester break, though that didn’t mean the boys spent any less time with you - pyjama parties were still a frequent happening, and one that brought joy to all of you.

there was one thing that would bring even more joy to mingi, though, a thing he’d asked the boys to help him prepare, something that he hoped you’d appreciate as much as he appreciated you.

//

you were dyeing his hair again - he’d tried different colours by now, motivated by you, but he wanted to go back to his red roots for graduation, and you agreed, using up some of the red dye he still had from your last split-dye adventure, when your fingers touched something that you didn’t expect to be there.

“there’s something here, hold on”, you let him know, taking out the little object and planning to just put it to the side until you saw his expression and the small, round ring shape, at which point it slowly dawned on you just what he’d planned to do. so instead of ignoring the little object you went to carefully rinse it, seeing a small plastic ring that you knew couldn’t have been expensive but that you were glad hadn’t been expensive because it would inevitably be coloured red from now on, and when you turned back to mingi and his half-dyed head he was on one knee, holding out his hands to grab your dye-covered, plastic glove-clad ones, not caring about the splotches it would leave on his skin. not when you were right there.

“mingi?”, you asked when he didn’t seem to want to talk, and first then did it seem like he was returning to reality, no longer caught up in his own fears and insecurities.

“this is probably a horrible moment”, he started, smiling awkwardly at you, “but we did this for our first date and that’s why i wanted red, too, like on our first date just roles reversed. and i just wanted to remember how giddy and excited i felt when you let me take you out on a date, even when it was just dyeing your hair, and i still kind of feel that way even though now it’s like, logical considering what i want to do, but i wanted you to remember that first date and how comfortable and right everything felt right from the start, at least for me. and then, when you remember that, i want you to see how far we’ve come and i want you to know that no matter what you say it won’t set us back, okay?”, waiting for you to nod as you bit your lip nervously, awaiting the words you knew were to come sooner or later, though as you knew mingi later rather than sooner, “and i want you to know that i love you so endlessly much, so much that i always want to be with you, and i want to make it really official and i want to promise you my everything and that’s why i want to ask you if you’d marry me. will you marry me, angel?”

that was sooner than expected. it took you a little by surprise, even though you’d already known what to expect when you’d seen him kneel like that, so you found yourself unable to speak, nodding instead, nodding until your voice finally left you able to choke out a “yes” before you fully regained your senses and told him, this time sounding much more certain, “yes, i will.”

and then he got up to kiss you, the dye in his hair momentarily forgotten, some of it making its way to your face as he cupped it and you accidentally resuming your dyeing ministrations as you buried your hands in his hair, and things felt perfect, just like they’d continue to be when it came to the two of you.

and you finally got your happy ending, your happily ever after.

[catboymingi]

catboymingi -> @mingkiii

oop oop it’s done! i have (tentatively) remade!

from now on i am to be reached on my new blog @mingkiii which is a main blog i’m so happy also please check the desktop theme if you can i think it’s really pretty

i’ll still check my dms here though for a while and if it flops i might come back to this blog altogether!

[catboymingi]

This is the 💛 Love SLAP 💛 Raid Chain, send this to all of your favorite blogs that you think deserve to hear these encouraging words. In return we ask that those blogs send it to their favorite blogs as well. It's December, everybody deserves to hear a few words of encouragement no matter if you're a small or big account. So let's all fill your dash with positivity these last few weeks of 2020. You are amazing. You matter. You are loved. You deserve to have an amazing month.

i’ve taken the liberty to resend this to my new blog but thank you so much!

[catboymingi]

catboymingi -> @mingkiii

oop oop it’s done! i have (tentatively) remade!

from now on i am to be reached on my new blog @mingkiii which is a main blog i’m so happy also please check the desktop theme if you can i think it’s really pretty

i’ll still check my dms here though for a while and if it flops i might come back to this blog altogether!

[catboymingi]

catboymingi -> @mingkiii

oop oop it’s done! i have (tentatively) remade!

from now on i am to be reached on my new blog @mingkiii which is a main blog i’m so happy also please check the desktop theme if you can i think it’s really pretty

i’ll still check my dms here though for a while and if it flops i might come back to this blog altogether!

[catboymingi]

catboymingi -> @mingkiii

oop oop it’s done! i have (tentatively) remade!

from now on i am to be reached on my new blog @mingkiii which is a main blog i’m so happy also please check the desktop theme if you can i think it’s really pretty

i’ll still check my dms here though for a while and if it flops i might come back to this blog altogether!

[catboymingi]

catboymingi -> @mingkiii

oop oop it’s done! i have (tentatively) remade!

from now on i am to be reached on my new blog @mingkiii which is a main blog i’m so happy also please check the desktop theme if you can i think it’s really pretty

i’ll still check my dms here though for a while and if it flops i might come back to this blog altogether!

[catboymingi]

i’m most likely going to remake this blog, hence my lack in activity today! i’ve been starting to set the new one up, and while i’m not 100% certain yet i’m like 90% certain

if i do genuinely remake, though, i’ll post the new url here, too, and all old works will be reposted!

[catboymingi]

hiding

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: a little angst, fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of scars from past self harm - these scars and insecurity about them are a major theme, but self harm is not at all

being in love means no longer hiding even the ugly parts of you

originally, you’d been laying on the floor relaxing with mingi, in a half-assed blanket fort, surrounded by soft pillows and blankets with his head on your stomach and you fiddling with his hair, running your fingers through it slowly. everything was comfortable, and you wanted to stay with him like this forever.

then, your boyfriend had turned to lay on his stomach, lifting your shirt up some to blow raspberries on your stomach, making you giggle as he kept being silly and adorable.

after that, however, he’d started kissing your stomach, moving to the skin of your waist, and from how you were laying you could see that he was kissing the textured skin where your waist was covered in scars from a bad time, so within seconds your hand was in his hair, trying to keep him from moving more, towards where the scars were tightly lined up, leaving hardly any healthy skin.

“don’t do that”, you told him quietly, and he complied, lifting his head up to look at you worriedly.

“what’s wrong?”

“not my scars”, you whispered, looking away because you didn’t want to see his expression. not that there was anything bad to see - he didn’t judge you, he was just surprised. you’d never tried to hide your scars from anyone, not even strangers; when he’d gotten to know you it had been summer and you’d been wearing a t-shirt and shorts as if it was nothing, and the seeming confidence you had was one thing that had drawn him towards you. he hadn’t expected you to be insecure about them, to mind him kissing them, and it hurt his heart that you seemed to feel like they were a part of you less deserving of love than the rest. little did he know that they were a part of you that made you feel like if the rest of you was able to be loved at all that was already a miracle, a part of you that made you feel disgusting and unlovable.

“why not?”

mingi wasn’t trying to argue with your decision, he’d stop if you didn’t want him to - maybe the sensation of his lips on the scarred tissue felt bad, what did he know -, he just wanted to know why because this tone of voice was incredibly untypical for you in a situation like this, a cute affectionate innocent situation, it was a tone you only usually used when you felt bad about something. and if you were feeling bad about something now he wanted to know, so he could hopefully make you feel better.

“i don’t want you to pay attention to them like that. i... i can’t really hide them so i don’t try, but they’re kind of gross so i don’t want you to be so close to them. i don’t want you to see them from this close.”

a vulnerable confession, a confession you only managed to get out because this was mingi and you trusted him, but part of you, the insecure, disgusted-with-yourself part, didn’t trust him enough to not leave you if he was really faced with how messed up you were.

“i’ll stop if you want me to” - you nodded, you did want him to - “but they’re not gross. not to me. that’s just what you look like, you don’t suddenly get less pretty because of your scars. it’s not something i think about. i didn’t really think about them when i kissed you now, they’re not something that strikes me as odd whenever i look at you. please don’t feel like you can’t let me close just because you’re scared i’ll think you’re gross”, and by now he was on eye level with you, propped up on one elbow as he looked at your sad, ashamed face with a serious expression, hoping you’d know that he was being genuine.

“i mean, i wasn’t pretty to begin with, so the starting situation already kind of sucks”, you continued your self deprecation, “and the scars certainly don’t help.”

“please stop that”, he told you, voice gentle but stern. he didn’t want you to feel like he was angry, but he didn’t want you to continue talking down on yourself like that when he was convinced you were the prettiest person in the world, when he was convinced you were perfect and that he’d been incredibly lucky for you to like him back, to accept him as the man in your life.

“i’m sorry”, turning your face away from him because now you felt like you’d done something wrong, but he gently grabbed your chin to make you look at him, not with force, he wouldn’t force you, but you willingly let him move your head.

“angel, don’t be sorry. i just don’t like it when you talk about yourself like that because it’s not true, and i don’t want you to reinforce those beliefs. you are beautiful, you’re stunning, and not despite your scars but in a way also because of them. please tell me if this makes you feel worse, or uncomfortable or anything, but i love your scars, too. i don’t like that you went through all that pain, of course not, but i love that you’re still here. and part of me is… i don’t know, glad you let out your pain, even when it was like this, because it means you’re still here. you kept going. and now i get to be with you every single day because you still keep going. they show me how strong you are, and whenever i notice they faded some more i get happy. they’re kind of a visual reminder of you doing better now, the fact that it’s scars now. and”, and now he carefully ran a single finger up your arm, feeling the little bumps on your skin, “they’re soft. they’re kind of nice to touch, nice to kiss. i love doing this.”

he continued to run his finger up and down your arm, gently, a barely-there touch that felt so soft and intimate that you wanted to cry. and you did cry, because his words had touched you and you’d never thought he’d think of you and your scars like this.

“thank you”, you whimpered, voice shaky from the sobs you were trying to hold back, which caused him to lean up some more so he could kiss your lips, and then he kissed the tears off your cheeks, something that would probably have been considered cheesy but that was exactly what you needed in that moment, his soft, loving way of letting you know that he was there for you when you were crying, that he’d be there for as long as you needed him to and longer.

“i love you”, he said as a reply, “and i want you to love yourself, too. i want you to feel as beautiful as you are. if i can help with that, even better.”

“you really think i’m beautiful? scars and all?”

you didn’t think he’d lie to you, but you wanted to be sure. you wanted him to confirm that yes, you were beautiful, wanted him to say “yes” because it felt like more of a confirmation than just casually calling you beautiful. it felt like that way it held more meaning, in a way, it was more genuine, more serious.

“i really think you’re beautiful. scars and all. please don’t hide from me.”

you were still crying, but it was okay; the sobs were slowly getting less, as were the tears, and you wrapped your arms around him to pull him close so he could comfort you some more.

“okay” was all you said in reply, but it was enough. mingi knew it wasn’t as easy as him just telling you that you were beautiful and suddenly all your insecurities were gone, but maybe if you’d stop hiding yourself he could show you that he at least thought you were the most beautiful person in the world, even if you didn’t believe it yourself.

there wasn’t more to say after that, so instead the two of you cuddled, your boyfriend half on top of you, half next to you, kissing your shoulder and neck and cheek until you turned your head so he could reach your mouth, too.

“i love you”, he mumbled against you, which made you kiss him again, a kiss full of emotion as you turned to lay on your side so your faces could be closer to each other. now that he had better access to it he put his hand on your waist, and then, hesitantly, underneath your shirt to trace the scars with gentle touches, paying attention to every little movement of yours so he’d know if he was making you uncomfortable, if you’d rather he stopped, but you just pulled him closer, hand in his hair as your thumb started stroking his scalp, something he took as a good sign.

your kisses got lazier, less a display of intense emotions and more slow and comfortable, just something you did because you loved each other so much. in a way, mingi enjoyed kissing like this more, because it showed him that you were doing better now, that you were back in the headspace for routine and domesticity rather than feeling like you had to show him every single emotion he made you feel through your kisses. it meant you were more relaxed, which relaxed him as well. and because you were relaxed he got a little braver, grabbing one of your hands and kissing your knuckles before he went from your palm to your wrist and, still cautious, still careful, started kissing down your arm, watching your expression the entire time to see if he should stop. but you smiled at him, a warm, appreciative yet shy smile, a smile he couldn’t help but reciprocate against the soft skin of your arm as he continued his ministrations.

eventually he reached your shoulder again, glad that you were wearing a tank top so there hadn’t been any fabric in the way, and continued from there to your neck and, eventually, back to your mouth, leaving soft butterfly kisses everywhere.

“you’re beautiful”, he told you once more, lips resting against yours so you could feel the movement even if he wasn’t actively kissing you. and, strangely enough, in that moment you believed him. in that moment you believed him that he thought you were beautiful, that he loved you as you were.

maybe it was time to stop hiding from him.

[catboymingi]

❅ Lessons Never Learned - S. Mingi ❅

❆ Day Six of Fluffmas ❆

Let’s just say, you’re never trusting Mingi to fill in for work ever again–especially if kids are involved. Let’s also just say, you’re never buying so much candy for him on the holidays ever again; he never did learn his lesson on Halloween. 

Requested by » @sanismybb

AU » Non-idol., established relationship

Pairing » GN Reader x Yeosang

Prompts » “Santa isn’t real.” || “This beard is itchy.” 

Warning(s) » None

Word count » 883

“You need to stop complaining and just suck it up!”

“Y/N, the costume is itchy!”

“Deal with it.”

“This beard is itchy.” Mingi begins scratching his chin and cheeks under the beard, annoying sighing and grunting in exaggerated pain.

“Mingi,” you roll your eyes, “you’re fine! Now go out there!” With a big shove from you, he enters the small room filled with small kids; all glowing to meet Santa.

Now, you laugh on the sidelines while wearing your pointed elf ears and loud rattling, pointed shoes watching as Mingi cringes at the heavy kids being placed on his lap and turns away when the babies cry too loud for him.

“I can’t believe you convinced him to do this,” San says from behind you, “what did you promise him this time?”

“He’s allowed to be the little spoon for the whole month, he loves being held.”

“Nice job, y/n!”

It did take long to convince Mingi to fill in for Santa after your original guy canceled last minute. As much as he loves you, he didn’t want to be around all of the whining kids and bratty tots on his day off. Still, he loves you too much to turn down your offer– but hey, it’s for charity anyways, right?

Mingi spent the next few hours playing Santa and you can’t help but find him so unbelievably adorable despite his clear annoyance and death stares towards you. You giggle at his attempts to intimidate you and nearly break out in laughter each time he shoos away another child. He holds up well until he reached his last child of the day;

“You’re not the real Santa, you’re a fake!” The little boy pulls harshly on Mingi’s glued on beard, making him shriek in pain and snatch the kid’s hand away from his face.

“Watch your hand, you don’t want to be placed on the naughty list.” He warns with his gloved finger swinging in front of the boy’s face.

“I. Don’t. Care,” he chomps down on the poor Santa’s finger and that’s when you finally stepped in after watching their banter go on for far too long.

“Ma’am, you better take your son and go,” you pull the boy off his lap and avoid the kicks to your legs, “his behavior is unacceptable.”

“He’s trying to have fun! He’s not harming anyone!” She defends herself.

“Are you blind?” You ask her.

“Excuse me?”

Mingi suddenly stands up, removing the santa hat to reveal his ash blonde hair, “you know what?” All the kids still waiting in line stare at him with shocked expressions.

“Santa, shu-”

“Santa isn’t real.” He declares, finally walking off the small platform and leaving the kids stunned.

Instant wails and screams of horror erupt the entire store as kids learn the truth. Parents give you dirty looks and pick up their crying children. Some whisper harsh words and others threaten to complain to the manager.

“Mingi!” You march straight into the backroom where he rips off his costume and mutters swears under his breath,

“Dumb kids, stupid parents, irratating costume–baby!”

“I hate you.” You cross your arms over your chest and pout.

He drops his costume to reveal his toned body, “babe,” he whines, “don’t say that! I’ll make it up to you!”

“My manager is going to kill me!”

“Your manager is Yeosang–do you really think he cares about what happened? He’s gonna laugh his ass off,” he’s got a point.

“Still!” You stomp your feet and push him as he approaches you, “you ruined all of those kids’ day!”

“Unfortunate for them,” his mouth hovers over yours, “how about we make your day good.”

“How so?”

“Christmas movies!”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon stuffing your faces in chocolatey and minty candies. Christmas movies play one after the other and festive music fills in the time between the breaks. The twinkly Christmas lights make his eyes look more starry than usual and you can’t help kiss his adorable smile. Each time you let out a laugh, his lips collided with your cheek in affection. Everything you do is too adorable. Even when you got angry at him earlier today, he can’t help but just awe at your cuteness.

“My belly hurts!” He tosses and turns on the couch, squishing you in the process.

“Haven’t you learned from Halloween? Don’t eat so much candy!” You get up, take his hand in yours and drag him into the bedroom for another round of cuddles.

“Rub it for me?” He asks with a pout.

“What am I gonna do with you, Song Mingi.”

The night didn’t end so well with Mingi continually groaning about his cramping stomach and getting up during the night to throw up the candy. You rub his back to soothe his pain and kiss the back of his neck once he got back into bed.

As clumsy as he is, you love him that way.

“Thank you for taking care of me, baby.” He leans down to kiss you but you push his face to the side,

“Don’t kiss me right now. Do me a favor and don’t face me tonight…but I love you.”

“I’ll try not to eat so much sweets before bed on Valentine’s day, promise!”

[catboymingi]

⁕ lazy morning ⁕

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: fluff

The sun was up, the backyard, previously green from the grass, was covered in white and so were you and Mingi, sleeping under fluffy white blankets, warmth emanating from both bodies and keeping the place comfortable. You were lying on your side, Mingi's arm loosely wrapped around your waist and his chest barely touched your back. Your breaths were even, nothing but calmness and good dreams keeping you perfectly asleep.

Unfortunately, your peaceful rest was interrupted by the alarm clock, which neither of you knew why it was ringing, so when the sound blared through the silent room, it scared you and made Mingi groan, rolling to the other side and tugging on the blanket. You stretched your arm to reach the object and slapped its button, wanting peace and a few more minutes to sleep.

— Why would you set the alarm to ring at a weekend? — His voice was muffled and way deeper than normal, making it almost hard to understand what he was saying.

— I don't know, maybe I was planning on doing something that I can’t remember. — You lay on your back and put your arm over your eyes. Thankfully, the window was closed, so the room was still dark.

— If you can’t remember, it wasn’t important. — Mingi rolled back, lay on you and positioned his leg between yours and his head on your chest.

You were feeling a little crushed and breathing was a bit difficult, but you didn't have the heart to tell him to move, as the position was too comfortable for both. So you start running one hand through his bed hair and the other on his shoulder, hearing his appreciation humming.

— I suppose you're right, babe. Wanna have breakfast?

Mingi did not even waste saliva to answer you, he just lifted his head and looked you dead in the eyes while squeezing his arms around your smaller body.

— Correct answer.

[catboymingi]

i’m just posting all my short drafts rn to get people to pay attention to me before i get out the Big Guns (being 4 pieces that are each 7k+ words long)

[catboymingi]

pretty boy

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: fluff with some slightly angsty short moments; best friends to lovers

word count: 3.7k

warnings: slight language warning, a teeny tiny bit suggestive once if you squint, but it never gets hot or steamy

if you’d known that calling mingi ‘pretty boy’ would finally make him make a move you’d done it much earlier

cuddling mingi was one of your favourite pastimes, had been ever since you got over the weird awkwardness that had been around when you first became close enough to hug each other but not yet comfortable enough to not wonder if it was weird that sixteen-year-old platonic friends were hugging each other. you’d met him when you transferred to his school at age sixteen and he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you didn’t feel excluded, forcibly making you befriend him - you’d really had no choice, he would come up to you daily, tell you about his day and try to make you feel welcome - and once you had befriended him forcibly making you befriend his friends, too. it had been awkward at first because you didn’t have any “best friends since kindergarten” stories, so you were hyperaware of the impression you would leave if you were to be more touchy than a hello and a goodbye hug.

that awkwardness had first subsided during a movie night with the boys, where mingi, stupid as he was, had suggested a horror movie so he could protect you, but in the end he’d begged you to not go home yet because he was scared the killer that was without a doubt waiting for his next victim outside was going to kill you if you stepped foot out of his apartment, because unlike his friends you’d refused to get a taxi, had insisted that you lived close enough to just walk, and you’d agreed to stay for a little longer so he’d feel better, thinking that it was only the post-movie anxiety that would subside in at most an hour. you’d ended up staying the entire night, though, because your friend had refused to let you go home even after that hour, and it was then you realised that he was actually scared. so you’d agreed to stay the night, thinking you’d be sleeping on the couch - which you did -, by yourself - which you didn’t, because a certain peach-haired giant had crawled into your arms after maybe twelve minutes (he’d counted, and decided that upwards of ten minutes was enough time to try to fall asleep by yourself) and you’d ended up having to protect him rather than vice versa.

you were kind of grateful for this, because it had gotten rid of the awkwardness of it all, and after that first time of cuddling you’d been much less shy about physical affection, and it was due to this that mingi got upgraded from friend to best friend.

that had been three years now, the house where you’d cuddled with him for the first time only still being a cuddle location if his parents invited both of you over from the dorms you now lived in to stay a night because they missed you, instead both of your dorm rooms had become the preferred locations.

this was where you were now, too, being spooned by your big best friend as he was slowly waking up. you’d been awake a little longer already, usually an incredibly early riser so your body made you wake up at six in the morning by yourself, but you hadn’t wanted to bother mingi so you’d just dozed on and off until he’d be waking up, too. to your dismay, though, he was shuffling behind you, and you felt a small issue against your backside. technically, you knew morning wood was a thing, and you knew mingi was definitely way too sleepy right now to be feeling anything other than the innocent desire to cuddle and sleep some more, so you didn’t think too much about any potential hidden meaning behind it. he’d never tried to make a move, and because you’d first gotten to know each other after both of you had already halfway been through puberty you were pretty certain that if he did want to make a move he would, simply because there was no decade-long friendship to ruin. it wouldn’t be awkward if he’d see you as a potential partner rather than the kid he grew up with, because he hadn’t grown up with you. so you were convinced it didn’t actually mean anything to him. you knew for a fact that this didn’t mean anything suggestive. but untechnically it certainly didn’t help the embarrassing crush you had on him, nor did the proximity to his warm, bare chest, because it was summer and summer meant shirtless mingi and shorts and a tank top for you rather than the soft fleece pyjamas you opted for when the weather started getting worse.

“sorry”, he mumbled against you as he, too, realised his problem, calmly and completely free of embarrassment after that first time he’d woken up like this and had near pushed you off the bed in an attempt to hide the fact that a part of him was just a horny teen, unaware of the fact that you’d realised that about five minutes before he did because you’d been awake for ages. in order to avoid being actually kicked off the bed in the future you’d told him that you didn’t care, and he’d slowly become less embarrassed because this was just how his body worked, not something he could control. 

“don’t worry”, you mumbled back, shifting around in his hold now that you knew he was awake so you could face him.

“how’d you sleep?”

“not long enough”, he groaned, his deep voice a little whiny as he told you about how it had taken him what felt like years to fall asleep.

“sleep some more”, you suggested, turning around again so you were now on your back and looking at him as you patted your shoulder, “come here.”

you didn’t have to tell him twice, his messy bedhead hair tickling your chin a little as he adjusted himself on the spot between your shoulder and your chest, his favourite cuddle position even though he’d never admit it.

“wake me up latest when it’s lunch time”, he ordered before he closed his eyes, nuzzling into your side some more for ultimate comfort as he let himself drift back to sleep, as confirmed by the fact that he’d apparently neglected to fully close his mouth, so you felt a teeny tiny wet spot on your shirt after a few minutes of him drooling on you. not that you minded, though, you thought it was endearing how the big, scary mingi was such a baby sometimes. it only made your embarrassing crush grow bigger, the comfortableness of it all, how natural it felt. he looked really pretty like this, too, pretty and absolutely adorable, as you saw when you wanted to play on your phone to pass the time, catching sight of his reflection in the black screen before you unlocked it, and because you were an idiot and couldn’t stop yourself you took a picture of him, where he was laying on your chest with his mouth slightly agape and sleeping peacefully.

sleeping peacefully until your phone made an uncharacteristically loud ‘click!’ sound, making you realise that you must have turned up the system sounds rather than your media in your sleepy haze the night before, but it was too late to change anything as mingi first grumbled, then shifted around, and then he lifted his head with the intention to look at you, but your phone screen was a more interesting sight, he decided, his embarrassing drooling face on full display.

“delete that!”, he whined while he tried to grab your phone, but sadly you had the advantage of being on your back so you could hold it out of reach, and he was still too sleepy to fight you for the phone. he would definitely do that later, though.

“no”, you refused, turning off your phone with the one hand you had available so he wouldn’t be able to delete it for you even if he did manage to steal your phone, because he’d need the pin code first.

“why should i delete that? i have lots of pictures of you.”

“yeah, but you just took that one so you can forever blackmail me about how stupid i look.”

mingi was genuinely convinced that was why. never in a thousand years had it occurred to him that you’d think he was cute, that you’d think he looked good even when his hair wasn’t slicked back but messily standing in all directions, even when his face was puffy and his tired eyes even smaller than usual. he was convinced he looked stupid, and he was convinced you’d use that picture to get him to buy you mcdonald’s at three in the night when it was freezing outside so obviously you couldn’t go yourself but would have no issue sending him out into the merciless cold.

“you don’t look stupid though!”, you insisted, having to stop yourself before you burst out an embarrassing compliment that might make things really awkward.

“i do! just look at my idiot expression, i look like a total imbecile.”

“you look pretty, shut up.”

there it was. the compliment you’d tried to keep yourself from cooing at him ever since you first caught sight of his adorably pouty sleeping face. and of course he wouldn’t just let it slip, either, his own embarrassing crush raising its hopeful head.

“pretty?”, though he masked the giddiness he felt with a teasing tone as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at you with a forced mischievous expression, one he wore to keep himself from smiling like an idiot.

“pretty.”

you’d have to just play along, act like it was a plain fact rather than you being way more in love with him than a best friend should be, so you continued: “now shut up about looking stupid, pretty boy.”

and if you hadn’t been so embarrassed yourself you would most definitely have noticed how much this affected him before he started stammering, because he blushed all the way up to the tips of his ears, leaving him looking a little more tan than he already was, skin a mix of a warm brown and a slight sunburn-adjacent red from the blood rushing to his face.

“pre- pretty boy?”

while you’d intended to play it cool that was impossible now he was staring at you in shock, seemingly entirely taken aback by the nickname.

“sorry”, you apologised, thinking he was upset rather than incredibly flustered and hopeful and happy, thinking now you’d most definitely made things weird.

“why are you apologising?”

“that was weird. kind of out of place”, avoiding his eyes as you spoke because you didn’t want to see him make fun of you for being weird and apparently incredibly whipped for him, as you expected he’d do. not even out of malice, he just sometimes didn’t immediately realise when a situation was serious for you, or rather how serious it was so he’d crack a joke or tease you - though he’d always apologise profusely once he realised his joking or teasing had hurt you.

“it wasn’t. just didn’t expect you to think i’m pretty when i was looking like a doofus. or like, at all.”

because he was insecure about his looks, genuinely, especially when you’d seen him so many times where he’d looked like an absolute mess, crying his eyes out over tangled, or ketchup or whipped cream all over his face because he’d wanted to convince you he could fit some random food into his mouth in its entirety, lots of situations he’d found himself overthinking later and that he found himself wanting to kick himself in the ass about for probably having made you think that he just knew how to sell himself in public but was actually average-looking at best.

“who says you can’t be a doofus and pretty at once though?”, something you were only able to say because your need to make him stop self deprecating was stronger than your embarrassment about complimenting him the way you were doing now.

“i say”, he informed you, still not able to believe that you genuinely thought he was pretty even when he wasn’t trying to be.

“and i say you’re pretty. if i have to pick just one then you’re a pretty boy and not a doofus.”

by now it was impossible for him to act cool when he was embarrassed like this, so his head landed face first in the pillow next to you, hiding himself from you because he didn’t want to have you see that he was a lovestruck idiot getting way more affected by what he assumed to be a silly nickname than he should be. though forcefully slamming his face into the bed wasn’t exactly a cool, unbothered guy’s behaviour either.

and “sorry” you apologised again, scared with every new sentence you said that that one would be the one to overdo it.

mingi just groaned into the pillow, annoyed with himself that even now he couldn’t get himself to say anything at all to in the very least hint at that he liked you, but you interpreted the groan as a reaction aimed towards what you’d said, insecurity and regret taking over as you realised that you were a fucking idiot and that you’d have to leave right now if you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. so you shuffled in the bed, sat up and were about to leave the bed when your best friend’s hand shot out to grab your wrist and keep you there with him, surprising both you and him.

and he surprised both of you even more when, once he’d seen the insecure, no, scared expression on your face, he pulled you back into the bed by the wrist, making you fall more than you were voluntarily laying down, and then he propped himself up from where he was on his side and now facing you who’d landed on your side too, shifting to turn you to your back so he could keep himself up on his elbows with his upper body hovering over you, caged by one of his arms on either side of your torso.

the surprise became unmatched when he finally made the move he’d been wanting to make for at least two years now, crashing his lips onto yours not exactly carefully because he was scared his bravery would leave him if he didn’t act immediately and fast, but his whole demeanour softened after a few seconds when you still hadn’t made any attempt to push him away, hoping that keeping himself up on one arm would work, that the strength in this one arm would be enough to keep his upper body from crushing you as the other moved to your head with the intention to cup your face, but got distracted by how soft the hair was that was spread out on the pillow, so instead he was twirling it around his finger.

if he could he wouldn’t ever have moved away, simply because the situation was one he’d wanted for so long, but his arm - the one that was carrying his entire weight - started hurting and threatened to give in, so he had to roll himself off of you, laying on his back so he wouldn’t have to see whatever expression of rejection or, even worse, disgust might be on your face.

“sorry”, it was his turn to apologise, closing his eyes just in case, really not wanting to see the exact moment you’d tell him he’d just fucked up your friendship.

“sorry”, you said, too, though you weren’t even sure why you were apologising, and your apology confused him as well, so he asked: “why are you apologising?”

“i don’t know. why are you?”

“i feel like i just messed up really bad”, he admitted, his face still turned towards the ceiling, heart beating rapidly and he didn’t know whether it was adrenaline or anxiety.

“we can pretend that didn’t happen if you regret it”, you offered, though your heart hurt at the suggestion. you didn’t want to pretend that hadn’t happened. you wanted to do it again.

“do you regret it?”, mingi asked after he’d rolled to his side because now he wanted to see your face, even if it would hurt. he wanted to see if you were lying.

“no”, you told him quietly, “i’m just scared that maybe i should. i kind of regret not regretting it because i’m scared now things will be weird because i don’t regret it but you do. i don’t know.”

you knew that maybe you should have lied to him, pretend to regret it, but you didn’t want to. part of you was glad it was finally out, even if it would mean that now your friendship was ruined. you were glad you didn’t have to keep pretending that all the nights you spent cuddled up to him, all the times he’d hold your hands and blow on them to warm them up in winter, all those cute things didn’t mean anything more to you than just that he was your best friend. in a way, you were glad the slight emotional torture you found yourself in whenever he was acting particularly sweet was finally over. even if only because he wouldn’t be acting sweet with you anymore.

“i don’t regret it”, voice quiet and serious, his eyes looking straight into yours to let you know that he was serious.

“so you’d…”

you weren’t able to finish the sentence immediately, trying to gather the courage to ask what your heart longed to ask.

“you’d do it again?”

it seemed impossible that the cocky girl that had just called him pretty boy earlier as if it was the most natural thing was the same girl that was now shyly asking him if he’d kiss her again, but she was. you were shy because now you couldn’t play it off as joking anymore, and that made it harder. he could break your heart right here if he wanted to.

but he didn’t want to. he didn’t want to answer, either, opting to pull you closer with a soft hand on the back of your head so he could reach your lips again, kissing you once more to show that yes, he would.

“do you regret it now?”, mingi asked you insecurely when he pulled away the second time, scared that now he’d crossed a line he shouldn’t have crossed, but you shook your head, and finally you admitted your feelings.

“i’ve kind of been in love with you for a while anyway. i don’t know how long, but i realised that one time during summer break when you tried to shove an entire ball of ice cream into your mouth that i probably fell for you along the way. so it’s kind of something i’ve wanted since then.”

your best friend was surprised by this, because that meant you’d realised just shortly after he’d had to stop himself from kissing you that one time you jokingly puckered your lips at him to tease him, something that only got harder to resist the more time went on.

“me too”, he admitted, and then he started rambling out of… not embarrassment, but a strong feeling of being vulnerable and the resulting desire to shift the focus away from being on his emotions only.

“with you, i mean. and not since then, kind of a little longer, but you’ve always just acted friendly so i didn’t want to ruin it. being your friend is better than not even being anything, so i didn’t want to risk anything. it was fine, i was happy to be your friend, i would’ve just maybe been happier to be your boyfriend, or-”

then he covered his mouth with his hand as realisation of what he’d just said hit him, embarrassment taking over once more, along with the fear of rejection.

“would you still be happier now?”, with a mixture of insecurity and curiosity in your voice as your beautiful, shining eyes looked straight into his wide open ones.

“uh, i mean, yeah, i would, but it’s fine”, he stuttered, unsure of what to say. was it really that easy? though maybe making you almost leave, kissing you without even asking if you wanted him to, both of you fearing that the friendship was irreparably ruined before you two struggled out a confession that might maybe lead to you dating wasn’t exactly the easiest, if you really thought about it.

“i’d be happier if you were, too.”

“i can be. should i be?”

and when you hummed “mhm”, as much of a yes as you could get yourself to voice right now because you were still a little scared all of this was one long, sick joke, he felt like he might explode with happiness.

“but then i want to set that picture as my phone background”, you added. “please. i’ll delete it if you really want me to, though”, although the thought of that made you sad because you thought it was so cute and domestic, and it would forever remind you of this moment and how you’d finally started dating mingi after years of what turned out to be mutual pining.

and he saw the frown, the small pout on your face as you told him you’d delete it, noticed the way your voice got that watery tone it always got when you were really sad but pretending not to be, and he knew that even if he did really, really want you to delete it he’d never be able to make himself tell you that. not when your lip was quivering slightly, a sure sign that you would burst out crying any moment if he didn’t tell you it was okay immediately.

“keep it. but not your lock screen, please, let me keep some of my dignity.”

the trembling of your lip stopped, the little lines on your forehead smoothed out as you stopped frowning, and mingi let out an inaudible relieved sigh. emergency avoided.

then, because he was still thinking about what you’d said earlier, the thing that had made him get his hopes up enough to finally make that damned first move, he asked you: “you really think i’m pretty?”

“probably the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen. and now you’re my boyfriend”, in awe as if you still couldn’t believe it. neither could he, to be honest.

and now he was your boyfriend.

[catboymingi]

This is a Tumblr hug! 🥰 Pass it on to ten of your favorite followers and don’t break the chain! 💕💕

i don’t know whether to laugh or to cry rn i cannot believe it took me whining in ur dms abt how u don’t love me anymore for u to send me a tumblr hug

vio are u entering puberty now. is that why ur acting like this towards ur parent that has done nothing but love u and provide spare yunho fluff

[catboymingi]

things i have done today:

write like 4k words somehow

scream in @midnightseonghwa s dms about mingi for several hours straight

made @deonghwa question the sanity of the german people by showing that we have a single word spanning 80 letters (79 historically but in this house we stan spelling reforms)