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Favorite Cat | k.mg

Pairing: Basketball Player Mingyu! x Roommate Reader!

Genre: Roommate to lover au!

Type: fantasy, fluff

Words Count: 14k

Summary: After being roommates for years, Mingyu finally see 'your' cat for the first time—and it's not technically a cat.

Mingyu pushed open the door to his apartment, the weight of the crutches under his arms feeling heavier than his own body. His right leg, wrapped in a brace, ached with every small movement, a dull reminder of the career-threatening injury he had suffered during practice. The air inside was still, silent—too silent. Usually, he wouldn’t have noticed, but tonight, the quiet felt suffocating.

The moment he stepped inside, reality hit him all over again. No more training. No more games. No more adrenaline-pumping moments on the court. He had spent years building his life around basketball, and now, with one wrong landing, it was all on pause.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he forced a breath through his nose. Positive mindset, positive mindset… at least, he would have a year to rest. A whole year to recover, reset, maybe even enjoy things outside of basketball. But who was he kidding? His life revolved around the game. The thought of sitting on the sidelines, of watching his teammates push forward without him, gnawed at his chest like an open wound.

With a grunt, he shuffled further inside, his good leg bearing most of his weight. But just as he adjusted his crutches, his left crutch suddenly slipped, and his balance wavered. A sharp jolt of panic shot through him as he struggled to keep himself upright.

“Shit!” he hissed, his grip tightening just in time to prevent himself from crashing down. He glanced at the floor, only to see a crumpled wet tissue stuck beneath his crutch—the likely culprit. His brows furrowed as he glared at it, frustration bubbling in his chest.

You. You must have left it there before heading out.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but right now? He couldn’t even bend down to pick up a damn tissue. With a defeated sigh, he leaned against the wall, swallowing the bitterness rising in his throat.

That tissue was staying there until you got home. And when you did, he was going to make sure you heard about it.

Mingyu lowered himself onto the couch with a groan, adjusting his injured leg carefully on the cushion. The dull ache was a constant reminder of everything he had lost—at least for now. With a sigh, he grabbed his phone and started typing out a message to you.

Mingyu: Got injured. Won’t be playing this season. Basically jobless now, stuck at home 24/7.

Mingyu: Except for when I have to stay in the hospital for surgery. Yay, fun.

Mingyu: Anyway, just letting you know before you freak out or something.

He hit send, then leaned back against the couch. But before he could even set his phone down, he heard a familiar notification sound—from the kitchen.

Mingyu’s brows furrowed. That wasn’t his phone.

Slowly, he turned his head, spotting your phone sitting abandoned on the kitchen counter. His lips parted in disbelief before he let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

Of all the times for you to forget your phone, it had to be now? He shook his head, rubbing his temple. How could you be clumsier than him? At least he had an excuse—he was injured. But you? You were just naturally chaotic.

Six years ago, you and Mingyu met at a volunteer project for an animal rescue club. You—a self-proclaimed cat lover—had eagerly signed up, hoping to spend your time caring for rescued kittens. Mingyu—a very proud dog person—joined with equal enthusiasm, but for the dogs. Naturally, the two of you had nothing in common.

That was until fate decided to be cruel.

On your first day, you were assigned to work together. Not with kittens. Not with puppies. But with snakes.

Both of you despised snakes. Yet there you were, forced to clean their enclosure, standing stiffly at opposite ends of the room, watching the creatures slither while pretending to be unbothered. That pretense lasted all of five minutes before Mingyu nearly tripped over his own feet, sending you shrieking into a corner. From then on, your dynamic was set—filled with bickering, sarcastic remarks, and the occasional truce when neither of you could deal with a particularly terrifying task.

Fast forward a few months, and somehow, your lives became even more tangled.

Mingyu’s dorm contract was expiring, and he was scrambling to find a new place. Meanwhile, your landlord had suddenly hiked up your rent, making it impossible for you to afford the place on your own. The solution was painfully obvious. So, despite your history of playful feuds, you reached out to him with an offer—split the rent and become roommates.

Mingyu agreed.

And, surprisingly, living with you wasn’t as bad as he had expected. You cooked, you cleaned, and you practically ran the apartment while he was barely home, only crashing on his rare days off. When he did have free time, he’d find you deeply immersed in your work as a linguistic researcher—something he never quite understood, no matter how many times you patiently explained it. But over time, he started noticing little details about you.

One, you loved meditation.

Your yoga mat was always neatly rolled up in the corner, and the scent of aromatherapy candles lingered in the apartment. Some mornings, he’d wake up to the sound of soft instrumental music playing from your room—peaceful, calming, something he’d never admit he actually found nice.

Two, you enjoyed tea and reading.

The kitchen cabinet had an entire shelf dedicated to neatly arranged tea bags, and your mug collection was surprisingly excessive for one person. Whenever Mingyu came home early, he’d often find you curled up on the couch, book in hand, a warm cup of tea beside you. You looked so at ease in those moments that even he, someone who never had the patience to sit still for long, could appreciate the tranquility of it.

Three, you had a cat. Or at least, you claimed to.

This one, however, was a mystery. Mingyu had never seen the cat. Not once. And yet, there was a litter box, a food container labeled with a cat’s name, and bags of cat food neatly tucked away in the cabinet. It didn’t make sense. If you had a cat, where was it? Was it hiding? Was it imaginary? At this point, Mingyu was starting to wonder if you were messing with him.

Mingyu was about to scroll mindlessly on his phone when his ears suddenly caught a faint sound—a soft, whimpering noise coming from right beside him.

His brows furrowed. That was... a cat?

Before he could process it, the blanket next to him shifted, a small lump moving underneath. Then, out of the folds of fabric, a white cat slowly emerged, its fluffy body trembling as it cautiously peeked up at him with wide, round eyes.

Mingyu froze.

For months, he had questioned this cat’s existence and now, here it was, staring right at him. His injury, his frustration, the long, miserable day he would be having—suddenly, none of it mattered. The only thing occupying his mind now was how ridiculously cute this cat was.

"Hey..." Mingyu said softly, barely above a whisper, not wanting to startle the tiny creature.

The cat flinched at the sound of his voice, its small body shivering ever so slightly. Mingyu could feel the hesitation radiating off of it, its big, untrusting eyes locked onto him.

"That's okay," he reassured gently, keeping his voice calm. "I'm Y/n’s roommate. I live here too, just like you."

He stayed perfectly still, giving the cat space, hoping it wouldn't bolt and disappear like some kind of spirit again. A tiny part of him—the competitive part—was determined to win this cat over.

Before Mingyu could even think about reaching out, the white cat suddenly bolted.

In a flash of fur, it leaped off the couch and sprinted across the living room with an urgency that made Mingyu blink. He barely had time to react before the cat launched itself at your bedroom door—and to his absolute shock, it jumped up, grabbed the doorknob with its tiny paws, twisted it, and pushed the door open.

Mingyu sat there, mouth slightly agape.

The door creaked open just enough for the cat to slip inside, and then—slam! The door shut from the inside, as if the cat had personally decided that Mingyu was no longer allowed in its presence.

For a long moment, all Mingyu could do was stare at your now-closed bedroom door, trying to process what had just happened.

Then, finally, he muttered under his breath,

“…Is that actually a cat?”

"I met your cat, Caty, yesterday," Mingyu announced as he walked out of his room, his voice still thick with sleep.

You barely glanced at him, focused on the eggs sizzling in the pan. "Want some?" you asked.

Mingyu held up four fingers. "Make it four."

"Put some spinach, please," he added, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You ate all of it two days ago," you shot back instantly.

Mingyu rolled his eyes. He had thought there was still spinach left, only to realize that, yet again, he hadn’t gone grocery shopping in months.

As he took a seat at the counter, he leaned forward on his elbows. "By the way, about Caty," he started, a smirk playing on his lips. "She’s not a cat, right?"

You raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I mean, she immediately bolted when she saw me," Mingyu said, his tone half-exasperated, half-amused. "Then she—get this—jumped up, twisted the doorknob with her tiny paws, and slammed your bedroom door shut in my face."

He leaned back, laughing at the memory, his deep chuckle filling the kitchen.

"She hates people," you said simply, placing his plate of eggs in front of him. "Especially you."

Mingyu scoffed, clearly offended. "Excuse me? That was the first time she saw me—how could she hate me already?" He crossed his arms dramatically. "Girls will be girls, I guess."

Rolling your eyes, you placed a pair of chopsticks beside his plate before untying your apron and hanging it up.

Mingyu's gaze flickered to your outfit—plaid shirt, sweater, and your signature gray glasses resting on your nose. His brows furrowed. "You're leaving again?"

"I have work," you replied, slipping your bag over your shoulder. "Unlike someone who’s injured and stuck at home for a year."

Mingyu scowled. "That was uncalled for." But then he perked up, grinning. "Still, at least I met your cat."

"Whatever, Mingyu. Caty hates you—just like I hate you. I’m going."

Mingyu burst out laughing. "You love me!" he called after you.

"The opposite!" you yelled back, slamming the door behind you.

Mingyu never thought an injury could slow him down this much. Being forced to stay home, get plenty of rest, and eat healthy, home-cooked meals felt like a punishment at first. But to his surprise, the food was actually good.

He never realized you were this skilled in the kitchen. Sure, he knew you could cook—he had been eating your leftovers and stealing bites from your plates for years—but now that he was home for every meal, he was truly appreciating it. His days were suddenly filled with steaming bowls of soup, neatly arranged side dishes, and hearty meals that made recovery feel a little less miserable.

And the more time he spent at home, the more he realized just how little he actually knew about you.

You had always been the "mystery roommate" in his life—someone who was just there whenever he came back after a long day, quietly keeping the apartment running while he was off chasing his own schedule. But now, with nothing to do but observe, he found himself studying you.

Your routine—or rather, your lack of a consistent one—was oddly amusing to him.

One morning, you were up at dawn, doing yoga on your mat with soft meditation music playing in the background. The next day, you barely rolled out of bed on time, rushing through breakfast while half-asleep.

Some evenings, you came home and immediately sat at the dining table, sipping tea and reading quietly like some calm, sophisticated scholar. Other nights, you collapsed on the couch face-first, dead asleep within seconds.

It was as if you didn’t live by a routine at all—just a collection of habits that changed depending on your mood.

Is that even considered a routine?

But what entertained him the most was just how much you slept.

After work? Nap.

After dinner? Nap.

Before bed? Another nap.

If he were to break down your day, at least 70% of it was spent sleeping.

Mingyu had never met someone so committed to maximizing every second of rest. You woke up exactly one hour before your commuting time, never earlier. Sometimes, you even set multiple alarms just to squeeze in a few extra minutes of sleep.

And the funniest part? Now that Mingyu was home all the time, you started making breakfast for him, too.

Not because you wanted to. But because if you didn’t, Mingyu would guilt-trip you.

"You forgot about my existence, Y/n?" he would dramatically gasp over the phone if he caught you sneaking out without feeding him first.

"You have hands," you would grumble.

"But you make it better," he would whine, and somehow, that always worked.

A week after his first surgery, Mingyu was lazily scrolling on his phone, booking a cab for his rehab appointment when you suddenly spoke up.

"You have rehab today?"

He glanced up, surprised that you even remembered. "Yeah," he mumbled, still tapping at his screen.

"I'll drive you," you said casually.

Mingyu froze mid-scroll.

"You have a car?" he asked, staring at you as if he had just discovered a whole new side of you.

"Yeah?" you replied, confused.

His mouth fell open. "You're rich…"

You snorted. "It's my dad’s."

Mingyu clutched his chest dramatically. "And you're driving me? You’re—" he gasped. "You’re personally escorting me? This is love, isn’t it?"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your keys. "Just hurry up," you muttered.

Mingyu grinned, slowly getting up from the couch, his movements sluggish as he adjusted his crutches. You waited by the door, watching as he hobbled over at a painfully slow pace.

"This is taking forever," you muttered.

"You try walking with one leg," Mingyu shot back.

Still, even as he struggled, even as he whined the whole way down to the car, he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

Because, for the first time in forever, you were driving him somewhere. And for some reason, that made his day.

During dinner, Mingyu brought up something that had been bugging him for weeks.

"It's been two months, and I still haven’t seen Caty since that first time," he complained between bites, setting his chopsticks down dramatically.

You barely looked up as you reached for a piece of the chicken dish—one that Mingyu had proudly insisted on making that evening, just because he had groceries delivered in the afternoon.

"Why are you so obsessed with my cat?" you asked, popping a bite into your mouth. To your surprise, it was actually good.

"This is good," you admitted, pointing at the chicken.

Mingyu’s lips curled into a smug grin. "Of course it is."

You shook your head at his self-satisfaction and returned to eating, but Mingyu wasn’t about to drop the real conversation.

"Caty is so cute. Her eyes are huge, and her fur is so fluffy. I want to bite her," he said with a dreamy sigh, as if he were talking about some mythical creature he had only encountered once in a vision.

"You saw her just once," you deadpanned.

"And I want to see her again." He leaned forward eagerly. "Come on, where is she? She’s in your room, right?"

You hummed, neither confirming nor denying it, but your head shook slightly. "Caty is a very solitary creature. She doesn’t like company. She doesn’t even like my calm and reserved company."

"Maybe she likes mine," Mingyu said nonchalantly, as if that were the most logical thing in the world.

You rolled your eyes. "Good luck with that."

The conversation drifted to other things as the two of you finished dinner. Later, as you plopped down on the couch, stomach full and ready to unwind, you flipped through the channels until you landed on an animated movie.

Mingyu, with nothing better to do, joined you, stretching out comfortably on the other end of the couch. The movie followed a boy who lived apart from his parents, only for tragedy to strike when they unexpectedly passed away.

A quiet moment settled between you both as you watched. Then, out of curiosity, you asked, "Do you miss your parents?"

Mingyu didn’t hesitate. "Sometimes," he said, his voice casual but thoughtful. "But they don’t live too far. I visit them sometimes."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on the screen, but something about his answer stuck with you.

Mingyu had always been surrounded by people—friends, teammates, fans. Yet, for someone who thrived on companionship, he never really talked about his family.

And for the first time, you found yourself wanting to ask more.

"How was your childhood, Mingyu?" you asked, your voice light but curious.

Mingyu didn’t even hesitate. "I’ve always been a bright child. Very likable, very—"

"Noisy," you muttered under your breath.

Unfortunately, he heard it.

"Hey," he shot you a look, placing a hand over his chest as if you’d deeply wounded him. "I call it opinionated, sweetheart. And my parents were very lovely with their children, by the way."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I can tell."

Mingyu turned to look at you then. He didn’t like how the atmosphere had shifted. Talking about his sunshine-filled, warm family was natural for him, but it was almost as if… you couldn’t relate.

He wanted to ask.

He wanted to know more about you.

But instead, he changed the subject. "How did you meet Caty?"

You let out an exaggerated sigh, fingers pressing against your temple. "Not with Caty again!"

"Why not? Caty is your family, right? I'd like to know!"

You exhaled through your nose, arms crossing over your chest as you stared at the screen. "Caty..." you started, your voice unusually soft. "Caty has always been there. She's always been there with me."

Mingyu frowned slightly. "She doesn’t look old."

"We age like fine wine. It’s in our DNA."

Mingyu snorted. "So, she’s your daughter?"

You smiled, but instead of answering, you turned your head back to the movie.

And for the first time, Mingyu really looked at you.

The soft glow from the TV illuminated your face, casting shadows along your features, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the way your lips curled ever so slightly, the way your eyelashes framed your eyes.

You were beautiful.

Like, very beautiful.

And what surprised him the most… was that he had never really noticed before.

One night, Mingyu noticed that you hadn’t come out of your room since the afternoon. You hadn’t even touched your dinner. He remembered you mentioning your latest research paper and how much of a pain it had been, but he found it annoying how focused you could get—so much so that you skipped meals without a second thought.

Grabbing his crutch, he slowly made his way toward your door, knocking gently before calling your name.

"Y/n, you haven’t had dinner," he said, eyeing the takeout he had ordered for you hours ago, now cold and untouched.

Silence.

"Y/n?" His voice softened, worry creeping in. "You okay? I'm coming in, alright?"

But when he carefully pushed the door open, he was met with an empty room.

His brows furrowed. You had gone out? Without a word?

He was about to leave when something caught his eye—a small, curled-up figure on your bed, rising and falling gently with each breath.

A white furball.

Caty.

Mingyu's heart skipped a beat. He had been waiting months for this moment.

He stepped inside, moving as quietly as he could, marveling at the sight of the elusive cat finally in the flesh. "Caty…" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, afraid of startling her.

The cat stirred, her ears twitching as she opened her wide, curious eyes. But the moment she realized who was approaching, she immediately scooted away, eyeing him with distrust.

Mingyu huffed, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Don't be afraid, Caty. I’m Y/n’s friend. Y/n, your owner, who, by the way, left you all alone tonight. Can you believe that?"

His gaze wandered, and his frown deepened when he spotted her food bowl—completely empty.

"Ah, no wonder you’re grumpy," he muttered, shaking his head.

Determined, he hobbled toward the cabinet where he had seen you store Caty's food before. It took some effort, balancing on one crutch while scooping out the dry kibble, but as soon as he poured it into the dish, Caty sprang to life.

She ran straight to the food, brushing past him as if he was nothing more than an inconvenient obstacle in her path.

Mingyu blinked, then grinned. Progress.

His heart softened as he watched her eat eagerly. "How dare you leave her hungry, Y/n," he mumbled under his breath.

Carefully, he reached out, fingers hesitating just above her fur before finally making contact.

Soft. So soft.

Caty stiffened for a moment but, to Mingyu’s utter delight, she didn’t run. Instead, she let out a quiet purr.

Mingyu clapped a hand over his mouth, barely stopping himself from squealing.

"Oh my god," he whispered, eyes shining. "You’re my favorite cat. Can’t believe Y/n’s been gatekeeping you from me."

Caty continued eating, completely indifferent to his excitement.

Mingyu smirked, scratching behind her ear. "Your loss, Y/n," he murmured smugly. "She's mine now."

Mingyu had been grumpier than usual lately—you noticed. Maybe it was the cabin fever from being stuck at home for so long, but he seemed to get irritated over the smallest things.

Your hair strands on the couch? A crime.

Dishes left unwashed? He huffed.

And the worst? When he held up a piece of your underwear he found in the laundry machine with an unimpressed look, only for you to sprint across the room to snatch it from his fingers.

So, when you saw him sprawled on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on his phone, you decided he needed a change of scenery.

“Wanna come with me?”

Mingyu barely looked up. “Where?”

You shrugged. “A field visit. Secluded area, about two hours of driving and an hour on the ferry.”

That got his attention.

His ears perked up, eyes lighting up at the mention of a ferry. “Wait, on a ship?”

You nodded.

He sat up immediately, his boredom vanishing in an instant. “I’m coming. Wait for me.” Without another word, he grabbed his crutch and hobbled toward his room to change.

Not long after, the two of you were on the road, Mingyu comfortably settled in the passenger seat as you drove. You let him choose the playlist, and he happily took on DJ duties, filling the car with upbeat tracks.

As the music played, Mingyu danced along, his upper body swaying dramatically to the beat. You chuckled, half-focused on the road, occasionally singing along to the lyrics you knew.

“Ohhh, you actually know this one?” Mingyu teased, turning up the volume.

“Shut up.”

He grinned, throwing his hands in the air as the chorus hit, and for the first time in days, he looked genuinely happy.

As the road stretched ahead, the rhythm of the music and the hum of the engine filled the space between you. Mingyu was busy drumming his fingers on the dashboard, nodding along to the beat, when you glanced at him and asked,

“How’s rehab going?”

Mingyu blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Oh. It’s… fine, I guess.”

“You guess?”

He sighed, rolling his shoulders. “It’s just slow. Feels like I’m barely making progress. They keep telling me to be patient, but it’s frustrating.”

You nodded, understanding. “You’re used to moving all the time. Must be hard to slow down.”

Mingyu exhaled through his nose, staring out the window. “Yeah. Feels like I’m stuck.” Then, after a pause, he mumbled, “I kinda hate it.”

You didn’t rush to respond, letting his words settle. Instead, you reached over and gave his knee a small pat before putting your hand back on the wheel.

“You’ll get there,” you said simply. “You just need time.”

Mingyu turned to look at you, and for a moment, he didn’t have a smart remark or playful retort. He just watched you, as if he were seeing you in a different light.

Then, shaking off the weight of the conversation, he suddenly leaned forward and cranked up the volume.

“Alright, no more sad talk. Sing this part with me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing as he dramatically belted out the next lyrics, completely off-key.

The salty breeze whipped through your hair as the ferry glided across the waves, the rhythmic rocking of the ship creating a slow, lulling motion. You leaned against the railing, gazing out at the endless stretch of water, while Mingyu stood beside you, adjusting the strap of the bag he had insisted on carrying for you.

He glanced over, eyes squinting slightly against the sunlight. “So, what exactly are we doing when we get there?”

You turned your head, watching as seagulls circled above. “Just an interview with an old woman for my paper,” you replied. “She has a lot of knowledge about oral traditions in the area.”

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully before grinning. “And after that? We can go sightseeing and eat, right?”

You smirked. “You just want food, don’t you?”

“I always want food,” he declared shamelessly. “You know this.” Then, tilting his head, he asked, “You like seafood, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.”

Mingyu hummed, clearly pleased. “Good. Because I’m eating everything.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Try not to bankrupt me.”

“No promises.”

A comfortable silence stretched between you as you both looked out at the open sea. The horizon blurred where the sky met the water, and the sound of waves slapping against the ship’s hull was oddly soothing. Mingyu exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

“This is nice,” he admitted. “Feels like a reset.”

You glanced at him. “You needed a break.”

He nodded. “Yeah. More than I realized.”

You didn’t say anything, but you understood. The months of being stuck at home, of forced stillness, had been suffocating for someone like Mingyu. But now, with the wind in his hair and the vastness of the sea stretching ahead, he looked lighter. More like himself.

“You’re lucky to have work that takes you places,” he mused, watching a fishing boat in the distance.

You smiled. “I think so too.”

Mingyu turned to you then, studying you for a moment. “You really love what you do, huh?”

“I do.”

He hummed in approval before nudging your shoulder lightly. “Alright, then. Let’s get this interview done quickly so we can feast.”

You laughed. “Deal.”

The village was exactly as you had imagined—quiet, nestled between lush green hills and the vast blue sea. The scent of saltwater mixed with the earthiness of the damp ground as you and Mingyu stepped off the ferry, your shoes crunching against the wooden dock.

Mingyu took a deep breath, stretching his arms. "Alright, lead the way, researcher-nim."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, leading him through the narrow streets where elderly locals greeted you with warm smiles. The air buzzed with the faint sound of waves in the distance, children’s laughter echoing from somewhere unseen. Mingyu, ever the curious one, peeked into open storefronts, his eyes lighting up every time he spotted something new.

Your interview with the elderly woman took place in a small, traditional house with wooden floors and the scent of dried herbs lingering in the air. Mingyu, despite not having much to do, listened attentively from the side, nodding along as the woman spoke of old myths and stories passed down through generations. At one point, you caught him staring at you instead, watching the way you took notes, the way your brows furrowed in focus. He quickly looked away when your eyes flickered to him.

When the interview was over, the two of you explored the village, wandering through small paths that led to breathtaking cliffside views. Mingyu took photos, claiming it was for "memories," but he sneakily snapped a few of you when you weren’t looking.

Lunch was a feast—freshly grilled fish, buttery scallops, spicy seafood stew. Mingyu ate with the enthusiasm of a man who had been starving for days, humming in delight with every bite.

“You’re going to cry over food again,” you teased, watching as he closed his eyes in exaggerated bliss.

“I might,” he admitted, stuffing another piece of fish into his mouth. “This is happiness.”

By the time you both decided to head back, the sky had turned a soft shade of orange, the sunset casting golden hues across the water. The ferry ride home was quieter, more peaceful. Mingyu sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours every time the ship swayed.

“Thanks for bringing me today,” he said suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to him, surprised by his sincerity. “I didn’t think you’d enjoy it this much.”

Mingyu chuckled. “Me neither. But I did. A lot.”

The warmth in his voice made something stir inside you, but you pushed it down, nodding as you turned back to the sea.

By the time you reached home, it was already late. The apartment was dark except for the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the window. You both kicked off your shoes near the entrance, exhaustion settling into your limbs.

You yawned. “That was a long day.”

Mingyu hummed in agreement, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, but a good one.”

You nodded, reaching to switch on the hallway light when suddenly—

Mingyu grabbed your wrist, turning you toward him. Before you could process what was happening, he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, warm, familiar in a way that made your stomach flip.

His eyes flickered down to your lips for just a second before he whispered, almost to himself, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

And then he did.

The kiss was slow, unhurried—like he was memorizing the way you felt against him, the way your lips fit together perfectly. His hand slid up to your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he had been waiting for this for a long time.

You were speechless.

Even after Mingyu pulled away, even after he chuckled softly and rested his forehead against yours, even after the warmth of his lips lingered on yours—you couldn't find a single word to say. Your mind was blank, your heart hammering so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

Mingyu, on the other hand, had a million thoughts racing through his head.

He hadn’t planned this. He hadn’t even thought about kissing you before today, at least not consciously. But now that he had, now that he knew what it felt like—soft, warm, and entirely too natural—he didn’t know how to go back.

Because this was you. His friend. The person who had let him crash at her place, who had cooked him meals, who had dealt with his grumpiness and his boredom. You, who he had always seen as someone steady in his life.

And yet, at some point, that steadiness had become something more. He hadn’t realized it until now, until he kissed you and felt the undeniable pull in his chest.

Mingyu swallowed, suddenly feeling like he had crossed a line he wasn’t sure he could retreat from.

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his neck, stepping back slightly, giving you space. “You okay?”

You blinked up at him, lips parted slightly, still trying to process everything.

Mingyu forced a small laugh, trying to mask the sudden conflict waging inside him. “You’re looking at me like I just spoke in an alien language.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if to clear it. “I just… I didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah…” Mingyu shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Me neither.”

Silence stretched between you, the air thick with something neither of you dared to name just yet.

Mingyu glanced at you one more time, his expression unreadable. Then he cleared his throat. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

You nodded numbly, still dazed.

And as Mingyu walked off to his room, closing the door behind him, he let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair.

Because for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he could keep pretending that what he felt for you was just friendship anymore.

Mingyu barely got any sleep. The kiss kept replaying in his mind, over and over, as if his brain was determined to dissect every second of it. Was it the right thing to do? Did he just ruin everything? The moment had felt so natural, so inevitable, yet now, in the morning light, doubt clung to him like a shadow.

He sat on the couch, his crutch resting beside him, his fingers drumming against his knee. Normally, by now, he would hear the soft sounds of you moving around—your sleepy footsteps padding into the kitchen, the clatter of dishes as you made breakfast. But today, there was nothing.

His brows furrowed as he glanced at your door. Still shut.

Mingyu pushed himself up, walking over to knock softly. “Y/n?” His voice was gentle, but there was a hint of concern beneath it.

No response.

He frowned, knocking again. “Y/n, you awake?”

Silence. A familiar unease crept up his spine. Don’t tell me you already left?

He hesitated before slowly pushing the door open. And sure enough, your room was empty.

Caty was in the middle of it, lazily sprawled out on your bed, her fluffy tail flicking. The place was messier than usual—blankets half-tangled, papers scattered on your desk, as if you had rushed out in a hurry.

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You really left without saying anything?” he mumbled to himself, glancing around the room.

Caty, now realizing she had an audience, stretched and let out a tiny chirp before hopping off the bed. She trotted towards Mingyu but got distracted halfway, swatting at a fallen pen instead.

“Caty,” Mingyu called, shaking the kibble container to get her attention. The second she heard the sound, she perked up, immediately scampering toward him. He walked to the kitchen, pouring some food into her dish, watching as she eagerly began eating.

He crouched down, gently rubbing behind her ear. “I see Y/n forgot to feed you again…” he muttered, shaking his head with a small sigh. “She was really in a rush, huh?”

Caty purred under his touch, completely unbothered by the absence. Mingyu, on the other hand, couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in his chest.

You left without waking him up. Without a single word.

Did it have something to do with the kiss?

Mingyu didn’t like the way that thought made his stomach twist.

He exhaled heavily, leaning against the counter as Caty purred beside his hand, rubbing her head against his fingers like she had finally accepted him as an ally.

“At least you don’t hate me,” Mingyu muttered, scratching under her chin.

That week, Mingyu finally ditched the crutch—a massive milestone in his recovery. It felt liberating, almost like reclaiming a piece of himself he hadn’t realized he’d lost. But as he walked into the apartment, feeling lighter than he had in weeks, he noticed something else.

You were on the couch, curled up with a book, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. The sight was so... normal. A stark contrast to the avoidance act you had been pulling lately. If Mingyu counted correctly, he had seen Caty more than he had seen you this past week—a fact he wasn’t sure he wanted to categorize as progress or not.

"Hey," he greeted, setting his keys down.

You looked up, meeting his gaze, and for the first time in days, you actually smiled at him. "You're walking now," you noted, putting your book aside, your attention fully on him.

Mingyu smirked, stepping further into the room. "Not just walking," he said, twirling on the spot with exaggerated grace. "I can even ballet."

It was meant to be a joke, an attempt to break through the strange tension hanging between you two. But even as you let out a small chuckle, neither of you could ignore how much thicker the silence had become.

The kiss still lingered in the space between you, unspoken but impossible to forget.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before finally lowering himself onto the couch beside you. He didn’t sit too close, giving you space, but he was near enough that you could feel his warmth. The silence between you stretched, thick with unspoken words.

He cleared his throat. "So…" He drummed his fingers on his knee, glancing at you before looking away. "About that night."

Your grip on your cup tightened slightly, but you said nothing. Mingyu caught the shift in your expression, the way your lips pressed together as if bracing yourself. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he also didn’t want to pretend nothing had happened.

"I don’t want to pressure you or anything," he said carefully, his voice softer now. "I just… I don’t regret it, you know?" He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t want you to think it was just some impulsive thing that didn’t mean anything to me. Because it did."

Your fingers traced the rim of your cup, eyes fixed on the steam rising from your tea. "Mingyu…" You started, then stopped, as if searching for the right words.

He didn’t rush you. He just watched, waiting.

"I just didn’t expect it," you finally admitted, still not meeting his gaze. "And I don’t know what it means for us."

Mingyu nodded slowly. That was fair. You had been friends, living under the same roof, never crossing that line—until now. "I don’t know either," he admitted with a small chuckle, leaning back against the couch. "But I do know that I like you."

This time, your eyes snapped up to his. Mingyu smiled, not teasing, not playful—just honest. "And I’m okay with figuring it out together. No pressure. No rush."

He could see the conflict in your eyes, the thoughts racing through your mind. But he also saw something else—something softer, something hesitant but not entirely unwilling.

Your amusement faded as quickly as it came. You set your cup down on the table, fingers lacing together in your lap as you exhaled slowly. "Mingyu… you shouldn’t like me."

His brows furrowed, the lightness in his expression fading. "What do you mean?"

You hesitated, pressing your lips together. There was a part of you that wanted to let this happen, to let yourself believe in the warmth he was offering. But you couldn’t. Not when you knew that if he found out the truth, he would regret ever feeling this way.

"There are things about me you don’t know," you said quietly. "Things I can’t tell you."

Mingyu frowned but didn’t interrupt. He was patient—he always was with you.

You swallowed, keeping your gaze fixed on your hands. "If you knew… if you found out, you’d regret this. You’d regret ever letting yourself feel that way about me."

Mingyu’s jaw tightened. "That’s not fair," he said, voice firm but gentle. "You’re deciding for me how I’d feel without even giving me a choice."

You finally looked at him, and he saw it—the fear in your eyes, the weight of something you were carrying alone. "Because I know what it would do to you," you whispered.

Mingyu shook his head. "Y/n, whatever it is, I—"

"You don’t," you cut him off, standing abruptly. "You don’t know, Mingyu. And I can’t—" You ran a hand through your hair, exhaling sharply. "I can’t let you get caught up in it."

He stood too, searching your face, his frustration evident. "You don’t get to decide that for me."

"But I have to," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "Because I’d rather be the bad guy now than let you hate me later."

Mingyu stared at you, his heart pounding. He didn’t know what you were hiding, but he knew one thing for sure—you were terrified. Not of him, but of whatever secret you were keeping.

And that only made him more certain.

"I’m not walking away," he said, his voice steady. "No matter how much you try to push me away, I’m not going anywhere."

You looked at him, eyes conflicted, torn between hope and fear. But before you could say anything, Mingyu stepped back, giving you space. "I won’t force you to tell me," he said softly. "But I hope one day, you trust me enough to let me in."

And with that, he turned and walked toward his room, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding and your carefully built walls cracking just a little.

You sat at your desk, staring at the open document on your laptop, but the words blurred together, refusing to make sense. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving. Your head ached from the lack of sleep, your body felt sluggish, and your mind was stretched thin from everything—your workload, the constant deadlines, your barely functioning routine, your health that you hadn’t been taking care of, and most of all… Mingyu.

You pressed your palms against your face, exhaling shakily. Everything was piling up, suffocating you. The late nights, the skipped meals, the self-imposed isolation—it was all catching up to you, and now Mingyu, with his unwavering presence, his persistence, his feelings, was another thing you didn’t know how to handle.

You shouldn’t have let it get this far.

Your chest felt tight as you leaned back in your chair, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Mingyu wasn’t supposed to look at you like that—with warmth, with patience, with something deeper that you weren’t ready to name. He wasn’t supposed to tell you he liked you. He wasn’t supposed to fight to stay when you were doing everything to push him away.

And yet… he was still here.

You knew he was in the next room, probably watching something on his phone or reading messages in the group chat. You could hear the occasional shuffling, the sound of video played on his phone. It was comforting, but also suffocating in its own way. Because you wanted to believe in the comfort, but you couldn’t afford to.

Not when you were already breaking under the weight of everything else.

You ran a hand through your hair, gripping the strands in frustration. Your schedule was a mess, your health was deteriorating because you barely had time to take care of yourself, and your work wasn’t slowing down. The pressure was relentless. And now Mingyu—Mingyu, with his steady eyes and his stubborn heart—was making it harder to keep things in check.

A part of you wanted to walk into the living room and tell him everything. To let yourself lean on someone for once. But you couldn’t.

Because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop. And you couldn’t afford to fall apart.

Not now.

Your breath was shallow, uneven. The weight pressing against your chest refused to ease, your hands trembling as you clutched your desk for stability. The walls of your room felt like they were closing in, suffocating you with the pressure you had been trying so hard to suppress.

No. Not now. Not this.

You pushed yourself up, pacing in an attempt to ground yourself, but your legs felt weak, and the buzzing in your head only grew louder. You needed water—maybe that would help. Maybe if you cooled down, if you just focused on something else, the panic wouldn’t consume you.

Your steps were unsteady as you walked out of your room, hands gripping the edge of the kitchen counter as you reached for a glass. The water was cold against your lips, but even as you gulped it down, it did little to ease the storm inside you.

And then, you felt it.

The dizziness. The telltale warmth flooding through your limbs. The sensation that always preceded the shift.

No. No, no, no.

Not now. Not here. Not with Mingyu in the apartment.

You gripped the counter tighter, willing your body to stop, to fight it, but it was too late. The overwhelming sensation crashed into you, your vision blurring, your balance giving out. You barely registered the sound of the glass slipping from your fingers, shattering against the floor, before your body gave in.

The last thing you saw before everything went black was Mingyu.

Standing at his door.

Eyes wide.

Mouth slightly open.

Frozen in place.

Watching as you—

Became Caty.

Mingyu jolted awake, gasping for air as he found himself lying on the cold floor. His head pounded, his heart racing in his chest. What the hell just happened?

He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the moment before his eyes landed on the small figure sitting beside him.

Caty.

The white-furred feline stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes, her fluffy tail curling neatly around her paws. She looked normal—just a cat, nothing out of the ordinary.

But that was the problem.

Mingyu let out a strangled, surprised noise and immediately scooted back, his body dragging against the floor as he put distance between himself and the animal. His breath was uneven as his mind scrambled for explanations.

Was it his medication? Had the lingering effects of his painkillers messed with his head? No—he hadn’t taken them in days. Was it exhaustion? A hallucination? But he had quit drinking. Why would he be seeing things now?

His eyes darted toward the kitchen. The shattered glass glistened under the dim lighting, water pooling around the broken shards. His gaze then shifted to your bedroom—wide open, empty.

He was sure you had been there.

He was sure he had seen you.

And then—

Mingyu swallowed hard, eyes flickering back to Caty.

Was it real?

Had he really seen you shrinking—morphing—into a cat?

Was Caty… you?

Mingyu swallowed the lump in his throat, staring at Caty like she might suddenly start speaking. His mind screamed at him that this wasn’t possible, but his gut told him otherwise. He had seen it—hadn’t he?

Slowly, he sat up, never taking his eyes off the small creature. He needed to confirm it somehow.

"Y/n…?" His voice was hoarse, hesitant. "If—if that’s really you, can you… meow?"

Silence.

Caty blinked once but didn’t move.

Mingyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Okay. Uh, can you—jump?" He pointed at the couch, waiting, hoping for any kind of response.

Nothing.

Caty just sat there, tail twitching slightly, ears perked.

Mingyu frowned, his frustration growing. He had to be losing his mind. "Alright, what about sitting? Oh, wait—you’re already sitting," he mumbled to himself, rubbing his temples. "Fine, then. Blink twice if you’re Y/n."

Caty blinked.

Once.

Mingyu held his breath.

Caty licked her paw and started grooming herself.

Mingyu let out a strangled groan, slumping back against the floor. "Oh my god, I’m losing it," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. "This isn't real. This isn’t happening."

But no matter how much he tried to convince himself, his eyes kept drifting back to Caty—who sat there, unmoving, watching him with those all-too-familiar eyes.

Mingyu sighed as he crouched down, carefully picking up the shattered glass pieces from the kitchen floor. The mess was everywhere—your discarded clothes near the counter, the spilled water, the broken glass. It felt surreal.

Above him, Caty sat perched on the kitchen counter, watching his every move. Her tail swayed lazily, but her eyes never left him. It was unsettling.

Mingyu exhaled, shaking his head as he reached for the broom. "Okay, so let’s go over this again," he muttered, mostly to himself, but also to the silent feline observer. "You were standing here. You tried to drink water, and then—bam! You turned into a cat."

Caty’s ears twitched.

Mingyu dumped the glass shards into the trash and wiped his hands on his sweats. He glanced at the pile of clothes on the floor—the ones you had been wearing just minutes ago. His face heated up at the realization.

"Oh my god, this is insane," he whispered, running a hand through his hair. He turned to Caty, pointing at her. "So all this time… you were Caty?"

Silence.

Mingyu let out a breathy laugh, though there was no humor in it. "You’ve been sleeping on the couch. Sitting on my lap. I even fed you tuna last week!" He groaned, rubbing his temples. "Oh my god. Oh my god."

Caty just blinked at him, expression unreadable.

Mingyu leaned against the counter, staring at her. "You know, the least you could do is react. Maybe a guilty meow? A tail flick? Something?"

Caty licked her paw and groomed her face.

Mingyu groaned again. "This is ridiculous. I—I need a drink. Wait, no, I quit drinking." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I need answers."

His eyes met Caty's again, and this time, there was something different—something knowing.

"You really are Y/n, aren’t you?" he whispered.

Caty finally did something. She blinked. Twice.

Mingyu let out a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling as Caty—you—sat comfortably on his stomach. He had never been a cat person, but here he was, hosting the biggest secret of his life on his body, staring at him with those too-familiar eyes.

"This is insane," he muttered, gently poking your tiny forehead. "I should be freaking out more, right? Like… panicking, losing my mind. But no, here I am, talking to a cat—you—like this is normal."

Caty blinked slowly.

Mingyu groaned, rubbing his face. "You’re not gonna talk, huh?" He tried again, looking at you. "Maybe blink twice if you can understand me?"

You just stared at him.

Mingyu huffed. "Okay. You’re either messing with me, or you really can’t answer like this." He let his head fall back against the couch. "Either way, you’ll probably shift back soon, right?"

That thought struck him suddenly. If you turned back into a human, you’d be—Mingyu’s eyes widened. "Crap, you’re gonna need clothes!"

He carefully moved you off his stomach and onto the couch before rushing to his room. Grabbing a couple of blankets, he returned and draped them over the cushions. "Here. If you shift back while sleeping, just—just wrap yourself in these, okay?"

He pointed at the blankets and then at you. "Inside them when you sleep, alright? Caty? Y/n? Whoever you are!"

You flicked your tail, making him sigh.

"Okay, fine. Ignore me." Mingyu plopped back onto the couch, still watching you with curiosity and concern. His head was still spinning, but there was nothing he could do except wait.

The next morning, Mingyu stirred awake to the soft glow of sunlight seeping through the curtains. He stretched, muscles stiff from sleeping on the couch, before something caught his attention.

There, curled up under his blankets, was you.

Not Caty. You.

Mingyu stilled. His breath hitched as he sat up, staring at your peaceful face. The blanket was wrapped securely around you, your hair a little messy from sleep, but there was no doubt—you had shifted back.

It was real. All of it.

Mingyu leaned back against the couch, exhaling slowly. "Holy shit."

Caty had been you all this time.

You sat on the couch, a human-sized bundle of blankets, while Mingyu stood in front of you like a detective who had just uncovered the most absurd case of his life. His arms were crossed, his jaw slightly dropped, and his eyes were scanning you as if expecting you to sprout whiskers at any moment.

"So… you are Caty?" he asked slowly, as if hoping he had misheard himself.

You nodded, peeking up at him from the cocoon of warmth.

"You shift into a cat," he continued, his voice a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. "Am I right?"

Another nod. This time, you kept your gaze firmly on the coffee table.

"So you're human… but you can also turn into a cat?"

You nodded again, bracing yourself.

Mingyu opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again—like a fish trying to form words but failing. And then, as if his brain short-circuited, he let out a loud, exasperated groan and ruffled his hair so aggressively it looked like he’d been caught in a wind tunnel.

"You should’ve just told me it was all a dream!" he burst out, pacing the living room. "Or that I was hallucinating! That I was seeing things! Y/n, what the hell?! How—why—how does a human just shrink into a—into a cat?!"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around yourself like they could somehow shield you from his meltdown.

Mingyu let out another deep breath, his hands on his hips. He turned away for a second, mumbling something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "I quit drinking for this?" before whipping back around to face you.

"Okay, wait. You said it happens when you're stressed?"

You gave a small, pitiful nod.

Mingyu blinked, as if this somehow made less sense than before. His brows knitted together in deep thought before he squinted at you suspiciously.

"So… all this time, when I was talking to Caty… was that you? Were you ignoring me on purpose?"

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head frantically. "No! That was Caty! I—I can't control myself when I shift. It’s like… I become the cat version of me, but I don’t remember anything when I change back."

Mingyu opened his mouth again, closed it, rubbed his temples, and then let out a long sigh as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

"This is insane," he muttered, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to his problems.

You swallowed hard, watching him carefully. He looked like he was either going to burst into another round of questions or possibly combust.

Then, after a long, heavy pause, Mingyu exhaled deeply, shook his head, and mumbled, "Of course the girl I like turns into a damn cat."

Mingyu sat there in stunned silence, his brain slowly piecing everything together like a detective in a crime drama—except the crime was you being a cat.

He turned to you, eyes narrowing in deep concentration. “Wait a minute.”

You tensed. “What?”

His gaze scanned you like he was seeing you for the first time. Then, his mouth fell open as realization hit him like a truck. “Oh my God.”

You blinked. “…What?”

Mingyu shot up from the couch, pointing at you like he had just solved the biggest mystery of the century. “It all makes sense now!”

You pulled the blankets tighter, suddenly very nervous. “…What does?”

“All of it! Your hobbies—meditating, reading, and drinking tea—you do everything to reduce stress. And your sleeping habits!” He started pacing. “You nap all the time, and you hate waking up early. You curl up in the weirdest positions when you sleep—like a cat!”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “I—I do not—”

“Oh, you do!” Mingyu pointed an accusatory finger. “And your attitude—how you act all distant sometimes, but the next moment you’re affectionate? Total cat behavior! And don’t even get me started on how you disappear for hours and then show up like nothing happened!”

You sank deeper into the blankets, heart pounding. He was way too good at this.

Mingyu continued, voice getting louder with every revelation. “You love warm places! You always complain when it’s too cold, and you sit next to the heater like your life depends on it!” He gasped. “And the hair! The random strands of hair I keep finding on my clothes—it was you!”

“I mean—technically, it was still my human hair—”

“And the way you stare at me sometimes, like you’re silently judging me but won’t tell me why! That’s such a cat thing to do!”

You opened your mouth to argue but… well. He wasn’t wrong.

Mingyu groaned, running his hands down his face. “How did I not see this sooner?”

You bit your lip, guilt creeping in. “I—I wanted to tell you, but—”

He spun around, eyes wide. “Oh my God. I bathed you.”

You winced. “Oh. Really?”

He pointed at you again. “I carried you like a baby after you fell asleep on my lap! I let you sleep in my bed!”

“…You must had volunteered that one.”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE A REGULAR CAT, Y/N!”

You shrank under his intense stare, whispering, “I was a regular cat at the time…”

Mingyu let out a strangled noise, like his brain was overheating. He collapsed back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I need a minute. Or maybe ten.”

You hesitated before mumbling, “…You still fed me tuna.”

Mingyu groaned into his hands. “I fed you tuna.”

Silence stretched between you before he finally peeked at you through his fingers. “Okay. So you turn into a cat when you’re stressed. But why? How?”

You sighed, tugging at the blanket. “It’s… complicated.”

Mingyu exhaled sharply. “Y/n, everything about this situation is complicated.” He tilted his head at you, still processing. “But somehow… it still makes sense.”

You blinked. “It does?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s weird, but it’s you. And honestly, the cat thing explains a lot.”

You stared at him, heart stuttering in your chest. After all this—after watching you shift, realizing you had basically been living a double life, learning he had bathed and fed you tuna—he was still sitting here, talking to you like you were just… you.

Maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the worst-case scenario after all.

From that day on, Mingyu became obsessed with monitoring your stress levels.

It started small—like when you reached for your morning coffee, and he immediately snatched it away.

“Caffeine increases stress,” he said, squinting at you like a scientist observing a volatile experiment. “You could shift if you get too anxious.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Mingyu, I won’t turn into a cat just because I drink coffee.”

He didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know, Y/n. You shift when you're stressed. What if caffeine speeds up the process?”

“Mingyu—”

He grabbed a tea bag and handed it to you. “Just to be safe.”

You glared. “I don't want tea.”

“You don't want shifting in front of me more.”

You wanted to argue, but… fair point.

Then it escalated.

Every time you sighed even slightly too heavily, he’d whip around like you had just announced you were about to combust.

“Are you stressed? Are you shifting? Should I get a blanket?”

“I just sighed, Mingyu.”

“Yeah, but was it a regular sigh or a cat-inducing sigh?”

“Oh my God.”

At one point, he even started doing random check-ins.

“You good?” he’d ask, mid-lunch, mouth full of food.

“Yes, Mingyu.”

“You sure? No tiny paws incoming?”

“I swear to God.”

Even when you were peacefully reading, he'd suddenly lean in, staring suspiciously at you. “You seem tense.”

“I am tense,” you deadpanned, “because you keep asking if I’m tense.”

“So you are stressed?”

“Mingyu.”

He hummed in thought. “Should I get some chicken? Maybe chicken will help.”

You threw a pillow at his face.

And the worst part? You actually started feeling stressed because of him.

At work? You were fine. Dealing with your schedule? Manageable. But Mingyu constantly watching you, gasping dramatically whenever you so much as blinked too hard?

That was starting to become a real problem.

One night, after yet another "Are you feeling shifty?" question, you groaned and flopped onto the couch, burying your face in a pillow. “Mingyu, I swear, if I shift into a cat, it’s going to be your fault.”

Mingyu gasped. “So I am stressing you out?”

“Yes!” You shot up, glaring at him. “You’re so paranoid that I’m going to turn into a cat that you’re actually making it more likely to happen!”

His eyes widened like he had just uncovered a terrible truth. “Oh my God.”

“Oh my God, what?”

Mingyu clasped his hands together. “So what you’re saying is… I’m your trigger?”

You blinked. “That’s not—”

His face lit up. “Does this mean I have power over your shifting?”

You groaned, throwing yourself back onto the couch. “I give up.”

Mingyu, now grinning like a kid who had discovered a new toy, leaned over you. “Don’t worry, Y/n. I promise to use my powers wisely.”

You peeked up at him. “If you ever use this as an excuse to mess with me—”

“I would never,” he said, hand over his heart. Then, after a beat, he smirked. “But, you know… if I ever need a cute little furball to do my bidding—”

“Mingyu.”

He laughed, dodging the second pillow you threw at him.

Mingyu was out grocery shopping when something in the pet accessories aisle caught his eye—a delicate, silver cat collar with a tiny pendant hanging from it.

He picked it up, examining the details. It wasn’t just any collar; it had an adjustable strap and a small locket that could be opened to store a tiny piece of paper inside.

"You can adjust the size, sir," a salesperson said, approaching him with a polite smile. She took the collar from his hands and demonstrated how it worked.

Mingyu nodded, intrigued. It was simple but elegant—something you would probably like.

"How old is your cat?" the salesperson asked casually.

Mingyu blinked. Well. Technically, you and Caty were the same age, and there was no way in hell he was about to blurt out, Oh, she’s 27, actually.

"Uh… four?" he answered, hoping that was a reasonable number.

The salesperson beamed. "Oh, how sweet! This locket is great for adventurous cats. You can write their name inside—or even a personal contact number, just in case they like to wander off."

Mingyu nearly laughed. You liked to wander off. You loved adventure. If anyone needed a tag in case they went missing, it was you.

As ridiculous as it was, he suddenly found himself imagining slipping this around your neck—not just when you were Caty, but even as yourself. It would be a little secret between the two of you, a playful reminder that he knew your real secret.

Yeah. This would make a great gift.

Grinning to himself, he grabbed the collar and headed toward the cashier.

During dinner, Mingyu suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table toward you.

“I got you something,” he announced, leaning back with a smug grin.

You looked at him suspiciously before picking up the box and opening it. The moment your eyes landed on the contents, you froze.

"You got me what?"

"A collar," Mingyu repeated, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

You blinked at him. “Mingyu. I’m human.”

He nodded, completely unfazed. “And also a cat.”

You groaned, closing the box with an exaggerated sigh. "Not this again."

“Hey, listen—it's adjustable! And I got one with a little pendant so I could write my number inside. Y'know, in case you ever shift outside and get lost.”

You shot him a deadpan look. “You seriously think I’m going to wake up in an alley one day and some stranger will check my collar for your number?”

Mingyu shrugged. “It’s just a precaution. Plus, it was pretty expensive, so you better appreciate it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Where did you even find this?”

“Hm…” He scratched his chin, pretending to recall. “You know, at—” He paused for dramatic effect. “—E-Mart.”

You let out a scoff. “So you just casually browse the pet aisle for gifts now?”

“Only for my special cat-human hybrid roommate.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to push the box back toward him, but Mingyu was already reaching over. Mingyu’s fingers brushed against your skin as he adjusted the collar, the cool metal of the clasp briefly pressing against the nape of your neck before he fastened it in place. His touch was light—careful, almost reverent—as if he didn’t want to startle you, as if this ridiculous gesture somehow held more weight than either of you had expected.

When he finally leaned back, his gaze lingered on you, a slow smile stretching across his face. There was something different in the way he looked at you—not just teasing amusement, but something softer, something unreadable.

The air between you shifted, quiet and thick with unspoken things. The usual banter was missing, the jokes fading into something more uncertain. Mingyu wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smirking. He was just looking at you, his brown eyes warm, thoughtful, studying you in a way that made your pulse stutter for a second.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Your breath hitched.

It was just a word, a casual compliment, but something about the way he said it made your stomach flip. Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice, or the way his gaze softened ever so slightly, like he had never really looked at you like this before. Like he was seeing something new—something more.

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the collar resting against your skin, the weight of it foreign yet oddly grounding. “It’s—” Your voice wavered, and you cleared your throat. “It’s just a collar, Mingyu.”

He grinned, the spell breaking just slightly, but his eyes never lost that unreadable glint. “Yeah. Just a collar.”

And yet, as you sat there, your fingers brushing the pendant absentmindedly, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had changed. Even the air felt different—charged, expectant.

You had spent so long keeping a distance, so long making sure that Mingyu never got too close. But now, sitting here with his warmth still lingering near you, with the way his gaze held just a fraction too long, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—it was already too late.

The moment Mingyu pulled your wrist, you barely had time to react before his lips were on yours. It wasn’t rushed or playful like you would have expected—it was slow, deep, and entirely consuming. His hands found their way to your waist, grounding you as he leaned into you, his body warm and solid against yours.

Without thinking, your arms lifted, slipping around his neck as he crouched down to meet you properly. The chair beneath you felt distant, the dinner forgotten. All you could focus on was the way his lips moved against yours—gentle yet insistent, like he was memorizing every second of it.

His fingers curled slightly against your waist, and a shiver ran down your spine. There was no hesitation in the way he kissed you, no uncertainty—just quiet, deliberate affection. It wasn’t like the first time, the one that had left you confused and shaken. This time, there was no doubt.

Mingyu was kissing you because he wanted to. Because he meant it.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you slightly breathless. His hands stayed on your waist, thumbs tracing absentminded circles against the fabric of your shirt.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes were darker now, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but felt all too clearly.

“You…” You swallowed, trying to gather your thoughts, but the words felt tangled in your throat.

Mingyu exhaled a soft laugh, his breath fanning against your skin. “Yeah.” His voice was quieter than usual, almost tender. “Me.”

Your heart pounded, but this time, you didn’t want to run. Not when his hands were still holding you close. Not when his lips were still tingling against yours. Not when, for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

The moment your fingers tightened around the collar of his shirt and you pulled him back in, Mingyu knew—dinner was over. The food, the conversation, the playful banter about the ridiculous collar—it all faded into the background.

His lips met yours again, and this time, there was no hesitation. Mingyu took it as a sign, as permission, as everything he had been waiting for. His hands moved instinctively, one sliding up to cup your face, the other pressing against your back, pulling you closer. The chair scraped slightly against the floor as you shifted, molding into him, deepening the kiss like neither of you could get enough.

Mingyu wasn’t gentle anymore—not because he wanted to rush, but because he needed you, and he was finally letting himself show it. The way your fingers tangled in his hair, the way your breaths mingled between kisses, the way your body leaned into his—it sent his heart into overdrive.

He barely registered how he had lifted you, how your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried you away from the table. The scent of dinner was still in the air, but all he could focus on was you. The way your lips never left his, the way your hands explored, the way his name came out in whispers between breaths.

By the time he reached his bedroom, both of you were already lost in each other, in the heat, in the pull, in the undeniable truth that this had been building for far too long.

Mingyu wasn’t thinking anymore. He was feeling. And right now, he felt like he needed you more than anything else in the world.

Mingyu’s breath was warm against your skin as he hovered over you, his lips brushing against your cheek before trailing down to your jaw. His voice was barely above a whisper, but every word sent a shiver through your body.

“I like you,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I want you… I need you.”

Your heart pounded so hard you were sure he could hear it. His words weren’t just words—they were filled with something raw, something real. The weight of his body against yours, the way his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns on your skin, the way his gaze held yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away—it was overwhelming.

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. Mingyu noticed, his lips curving into a soft, almost teasing smile as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Are you nervous?”

You exhaled, trying to steady yourself, but the truth was, it wasn’t just nerves. It was him. The way he made you feel—like he could unravel you with just a look, like he was seeing all of you and still wanting more.

Mingyu leaned in again, his forehead resting against yours. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with restraint.

Your breath hitched, panic creeping into your veins as your body tensed beneath him. The warmth of Mingyu’s touch, the weight of his body pressing into yours—it was too much. Not in a bad way, but in a way that sent your heartbeat into overdrive, your nerves firing off alarms you couldn’t ignore.

You could feel it happening.

The shift.

Your skin prickled, a deep sensation rolling through your bones, telling you that your body was about to betray you at the worst possible moment.

“Mingyu—” you gasped, trying to warn him, trying to push against his chest, but he was too lost in you. His lips dragged over the sensitive skin of your neck, down to your collarbone, his grip firm as he held you in place, his breath heavy with desire.

“You’re beautiful, Y/n,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with emotion.

Don’t say that, Mingyu… You clenched your eyes shut, your head spinning. Your stomach twisted, your blood rushed too fast, too hot. It was coming. It was coming.

You barely managed to shove at his shoulder before it happened.

Your world tilted. Your limbs curled inward. The familiar dizziness hit you like a freight train, and before you could even process it—

Poof.

The weight of the blankets suddenly felt ten times heavier. The warmth of Mingyu’s body was gone.

And in his place?

A very, very stunned man, now lying chest-down on the mattress, his arms empty where you had just been.

“...What the—?” Mingyu blinked, slowly lifting himself up, eyes searching the space where you had been seconds ago.

And then, finally, his gaze landed on the small bundle of fur now tangled in his sheets.

Silence.

Pure, deafening silence.

Mingyu sat there for a long moment, his brain clearly short-circuiting. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

Then, after what felt like forever, he exhaled, voice flat.

“You have to be kidding me.”

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You stirred awake, your body stretching instinctively against the soft sheets—only to realize, with a jolt, that you were naked. Your breath hitched as your fingers clenched around the blanket, pulling it tighter around you. The air smelled like Mingyu—like warmth, like home.

Then, a voice, teasing and low—

"Awake, kitty cat?"

Your head snapped toward the doorway, where Mingyu stood leaning against the frame, arms crossed, watching you with barely contained amusement. His dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable, but his smirk told you everything.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. The last thing you remembered—Mingyu, his hands, his lips, the way your body reacted to him, the way your nerves got the best of you—oh god.

Mingyu pushed off the doorframe and walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. Instinctively, your arms tightened around the blanket, shielding yourself from the weight of his stare.

"I still can't believe it," he mused, shaking his head. "Caty really did that." He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before giving you a pointed look. "Do you have any idea how traumatizing it is to be cockblocked by a cat? A cat that just so happens to be you?"

You swallowed, cheeks burning.

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to gently tug the blanket away from your face. His fingers brushed through your hair, a quiet tenderness in the way he touched you.

Then, his voice dropped, turning serious. "After last night…" He hesitated, his thumb grazing your temple. "You know we can’t just go back to being friends, right?"

Your heart pounded in your chest.

"I like you, Y/n," he confessed, his tone unwavering. "So much that I wanted you. And I could feel it last night—you wanted me too. But you were nervous." His hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm, grounding. "And then you shifted."

Shame curled in your stomach, and you lowered your gaze. "I'm sorry…" you whispered.

But Mingyu shook his head. "No, don’t be sorry. I get it now." He exhaled, his hand moving down to grasp yours. "But please—tell me you want this too. Tell me we’re together."

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. He wasn’t just asking for an answer—he was asking for you. And you knew, despite everything, despite the chaos, despite the impossible nature of what you were—you wanted him too.

"But Mingyu… I'm a cat," you whispered, your fingers gripping the sheets tighter. "I can shift anytime—just like last night. And..." Your voice wavered as you swallowed hard. "I can't even communicate with you when Caty takes over. You don’t understand how—how frustrating that is. How helpless it feels."

Mingyu sighed, his fingers tightening slightly around yours as if afraid you'd slip away—not just figuratively, but literally. His brows furrowed as he looked at you, deep in thought, but there was no hesitation in his expression.

"So?" He said simply, tilting his head.

You blinked. "So?"

"So what if you’re a cat sometimes?" He shrugged, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "I mean, yeah, it’s insane. But you think that’s enough to make me not want you?"

You bit your lip, eyes flickering downward. "Mingyu… I shifted right in the middle of—of that last night. That’s not normal. I can’t control it. What if it happens again?"

Mingyu dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before leaning closer. "Then we deal with it," he said, voice softer now. "We figure it out. And maybe next time, we make sure you’re not stressed, huh?"

You frowned. "You stress me out most of the time."

Mingyu gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. "Me?! No way."

You shot him a flat look, but he only grinned, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Look," he continued, "it’s a little complicated, sure. But Y/n, I like you. Whether you’re human or a cat, whether you ignore me as Caty or let me kiss you as Y/n—I like you."

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart tightening in your chest.

"Besides," he added, flashing you a lopsided smile, "if you shift again, I’ll just put your little collar on. That way, if you run away, at least people will know you belong to me."

Your mouth fell open. "Mingyu!"

He burst into laughter as you smacked his arm, but the warmth in his eyes never faded. You wanted to argue, to tell him how ridiculous this all was, how dangerous it could be. But the way he looked at you—like shifting into a cat in the middle of making out was just another small inconvenience, like it didn’t change the way he felt about you—made you wonder.

Maybe this wasn’t so impossible after all.

Mingyu came home after practice, greeted by an unsettling silence. The apartment was dark, save for the faint glow from the city lights seeping through the curtains. He stepped inside, his muscles aching from the long day, and made his way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, he changed into his pajamas, slipped on his wedding band, and went to find you.

It was already past ten, but the quiet felt unusual. You were a night owl, always awake, always up to something. Yet tonight, not even the hum of the TV or the soft clatter of your late-night snacking filled the space.

“Babe, where are you?” Mingyu’s voice echoed slightly in the stillness, laced with growing concern. He checked his phone, scrolling through his messages—he had texted you earlier, letting you know he’d be late because of practice. No reply.

A frown settled on his face. "Did she go out?" he muttered, not liking the idea one bit. The thought of you wandering around alone, pregnant, made his stomach twist.

It still amazed him how much life had changed. When he first met you, he never imagined falling this hard. But after months together, he knew—he knew—you were the one. Through all the ups and downs, his knee surgery, his return to the team, he always came back to you. Marrying you was the easiest decision he’d ever made.

Meeting your family, however, had been chaotic. He would never forget the way your father—so nervous about meeting his future son-in-law—had turned into a cat right in front of him. Then there was your brother, Wonwoo, who had also shifted into a sleek black cat the moment he found out you were pregnant before marriage. Mingyu had nearly lost it. But somehow, after all that madness, things smoothed over, and now, he was officially part of the cat family.

And now, with you seven months pregnant, he was counting down the days until he could hold his baby girl. Though, he did have a sneaking suspicion that one day, she too might randomly turn into a cat.

But that was fine. Mingyu had long since accepted that cats—especially you—were cute.

"Baby?" His voice carried through the apartment as he checked the master bedroom. Empty. The nursery? Empty. His frown deepened. Where the heck is she?

Feeling increasingly uneasy, Mingyu perched on the barstool and dialed your number. The moment he hit call, he heard a faint rustling noise. His head snapped toward the pantry.

A breath of relief escaped him. There you are.

But when he opened the pantry door, he didn’t find you.

Instead, he found Caty.

A very pregnant Caty.

Mingyu groaned, rubbing his temples as his gaze shifted to your phone and the pile of clothes discarded beside her.

"Not this again," he sighed, exasperated but unsurprised.

Shaking his head, he scooped Caty into his arms, along with your things, cradling the small, fluffy body of his very human wife-turned-cat.

"You just had to stress yourself out, didn’t you?" he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Caty’s head as he carried you back to bed.

“What was it this time? Did you watch a sad movie? Did Wonwoo say something weird again? Or was it me? It’s me, isn’t it?”

Caty—you—only flicked an ear in response.

Mingyu huffed, shaking his head. “I should’ve seen this coming,” he muttered, glancing down at your small, round belly. “You’re literally seven months pregnant, Y/n. You can’t just shift like this every time you panic.”

But deep down, he knew you couldn’t control it. The stress, the hormones, the whole being-pregnant-and-turning-into-a-cat thing—it was a lot.

Mingyu gently laid you down on his pillow and covered you with the blanket, careful not to make you feel trapped. Then, he sat beside you, rubbing his face tiredly.

“We really need to figure out a way to stop this from happening,” he mumbled to himself. Then, he side-eyed you. “What if you shift during labor? Am I gonna have to explain to the doctor why there’s a cat in the maternity ward?”

Caty blinked.

“Oh my god,” Mingyu groaned, flopping onto the bed. “I’m gonna be a dad and a cat owner at the same time. This is a nightmare.”

Despite his complaints, his hand found its way back to stroking your fur. He sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “At least you’re cute.”

He yawned, exhaustion from practice finally catching up to him. He wasn’t sure when you’d shift back, but until then, he’d just have to wait.

“Just don’t go into labor while you’re still a cat, okay?” he mumbled sleepily. “I don’t think I can handle that.”

With that, Mingyu let his eyes drift shut, one hand still resting protectively over you.

Mingyu woke up to the sound of soft shuffling beside him. His arm instinctively reached out, landing not on soft fur but warm skin. His brows furrowed as his fingers flexed against the familiar shape of your waist. Slowly, he cracked one eye open.

And there you were—back in your human form, sitting up in bed, stretching with a yawn, his oversized pajama top slipping off one shoulder.

Mingyu blinked blearily. Then, his mind caught up.

“Oh, thank God.” He groaned dramatically, flopping onto his back. “I thought I’d have to raise a kitten instead of a baby.”

You scoffed, pulling the blanket over yourself. “I was planning to wake up in human form before giving birth, you know.”

Mingyu sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. “Yeah, well, forgive me for being concerned when my pregnant wife disappears and a pregnant cat magically appears in her place!” He dropped his hands to his lap, staring at you pointedly. “You really gotta stop doing this to me, babe.”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Mingyu sighed, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered, thumb brushing against your cheek. “You scared me, though.”

Your eyes softened, fingers playing with the hem of your sleeves. “I’m sorry…”

Mingyu exhaled, then suddenly pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“You should be,” he muttered against your hair, his grip tightening. “I lost at least five years of my life because of you.”

You giggled, snuggling into his embrace. “You’ll be fine. You still have, like, a hundred years left.”

Mingyu snorted, pulling back just enough to look at you. His hands rested on your belly, thumbs rubbing small circles over the bump. “I guess we should start preparing for the fact that she might inherit your little condition.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. “I really hope she doesn’t.”

Mingyu leaned on one elbow, gazing down at you with a knowing look. His fingers traced absentminded circles over your belly as he asked, “Is that what you were stressing about last night? The fact that she might inherit the cat DNA?”

You hesitated, then sighed, covering your face with your hands. “Okay, maybe…”

Mingyu let out a short laugh, amused but not mocking. “Babe.” He pried your hands away gently so he could see your face. “You really think that’s gonna make me love her any less?”

You pouted. “It’s not just that, Mingyu… What if she suddenly shifts for the first time at daycare? Or what if she can’t control it, just like me? What if—”

Mingyu pressed a finger to your lips. “Then we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You blinked up at him, and his expression softened. “You think I haven’t already prepared myself for this? I married into a literal cat family, Y/n. I knew what I was signing up for.”

You exhaled, feeling some of the weight lift from your chest. “You’re really okay with it?”

Mingyu grinned. “Are you kidding? I think it’d be adorable if our kid turns into a tiny furball. She’s gonna be the cutest kitten and the cutest baby.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, some of your worries melting away. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” Mingyu teased, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, with a smirk, he added, “But for real—should we get her a tiny collar? Just in case?”

“Mingyu!”

Your husband only laughed as you smacked his arm, his affection and lightheartedness making it impossible for you to stay worried for long.

Mingyu smirked, leaning over you, his nose brushing against yours. “Well… if she does, at least she’ll be a very cute kitten.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as Mingyu kissed you softly, his warmth melting away the last remnants of your stress.

The end:)

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gyuldaengie97 · 2 days ago

Text

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉, 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. 𝒌.𝒎𝒈

pairing: kim mingyu / f!reader

summary: y/n just wants to settle into the place she is subletting from soonyoung, but sadly, the sublet is for her and a roommate whom she hasn’t even met - soonyoung’s mysterious friend ‘mingyu’

but mingyu can’t even be bothered to show up for coffee, much less to pick a couch for their shared space

worse, she has to deal with an asshole at work when all she wants is some peace and quiet and her own bedroom

genre: roommates au, workplace au

characters: porn actor!mingyu, bartender!mingyu, makeup artist!reader

word count: 2.9k

rating: 18+, mdni, explicit

warnings below cut

warnings: drinking, explicit language, penetrative sex, messy sex, slight noona kink, implied role play

she had given up texting ‘mingyu’ - she hadn’t even met him, so she felt like she could pretend he was barely a real person, especially since he was climbing the list of her worst roommates so far.

he was allegedly a friend of soonyoung’s and meant to be subletting his apartment with her, but so far, she’d literally seen nor heard from him. she was starting to think he was soonyoung’s alter ego, à la fight club.

but she really couldn’t be bothered to keep trying his mobile when she had work to do - a job she had agreed to take only after her friend begged her. she wasn’t really one for being on set for porn films, especially when it was crowded and there were so many dicks swinging freely. she generally worked on set for magazines where the dicks were at least covered to some degree or being shown off tastefully.

from what she could gather, it was a giant casting call - there were ‘stars’ and hopefuls all lining up to get photos taken, audition, and even to be filmed in a single day. it seemed more based on the fact that the location was only rented for two days than anything else.

she had been there for hours - her feet were tired - she was tired. and the guy in her chair was obviously tired since he kept nodding off.

she had glanced at the sheet he brought along - a short description of what needed doing. for him, they wanted a ‘dewy’ look with a very ‘rosy’ cock. she had seen ‘wet’ looks, and ‘grunge’ looks, but ‘dewy’ was certainly new. she wondered who picked these adjectives.

initially, she hoped to work around the fact that he was tired, but she finally gave him a gentle poke in the cheek. “hey, sleeping beauty, can you just sit up a bit for me?” she asked, trying to be gentle.

he sat up, shooting her an annoyed look as he did. she set about trying to capture ‘dewy.’ but he slumped again and caused her to streak foundation across his face.

she wanted to scream.

she shook his arm. “hey - seriously, i need you to sit up for this,” she said sternly as she started to clean up her mistake and try to salvage things within her timeframe.

he apparently used the time she was correcting things to stew because when she was kneeling down to attempt this whole ‘rosy’ cock business, he muttered something about her just being a makeup artist.

she shot him a sharp look. “right, i’m just the one in charge of making you and your cock look as good as possible on film so that maybe you get this job - so completely pointless, right?”

she rolled her eyes, wondering where some random guy at a casting call for ‘big dicks 19’ got off thinking he had any business commenting on anything she did. even if he was hot. and had a nice dick.

she had dealt with plenty of assholes and was in no mood. she was quick finishing, using a bit of glitter spray in strategic spots to highlight his natural build - she wasn’t going to half-ass anything just because he was a cunt. and then she was done and waving him along to whoever else he wanted to be an ass to that day.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

and after working her magic on what felt like a million sweaty bodies, she got to pack up and go home. she had the only key to the apartment right now. she hadn’t had the chance to put her bed together or really unpack, even - but she happily flopped on her makeshift bed, aka her mattress on the floor. she took a quick nap before waking up, ordering some dinner, and taking a fast shower while she waited for food to arrive.

she didn’t bother trying to catch up with mingyu again. she wasn’t that worried, especially since he was already paying his half of things. for all she cared, he could never move in - that would suit her just fine.

she did call soonyoung, though, to let him know his friend was still a no-show.

soonyoung had hummed, “i mean, i know where to find him - i would have thought he would have shown up by now - i know he hates his current roommate.” he sounded perplexed.

“i mean, i don’t hate having the place to myself,” she said with a laugh.

he sighed. “fair, but i’m leaving in a few days - you two should at least meet before i’m out of the country.” she could hear the not-so-subtle suggestion in his voice.

“i guess send me an address,” she groaned.

she had had no plans of going out. in fact, she had planned to enjoy being totally alone in a gorgeous apartment that she was so far only paying half the rent of.

instead, she was getting dressed for some bar - she had looked it up. there wasn’t a dress code, but it was on the fashionable side. she felt like she had an outfit that would work, actually - insanely high-waisted trousers, cute bralette, vintage leather jacket, platform heels, and chunky earrings.

she had maybe been rewatching killing eve and channeling the feels she had for villanelle’s wardrobe. she slicked her hair back a bit and was ready to meet her mysterioso roommate.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

she grabbed a cab and met soonyoung outside the bar. it had a hole-in-the-wall vibe, except for the fact that she noticed several people she had worked with, as in people who got in front of the camera. but soonyoung seemed to know how to skip the line, opting for going in through the backdoor.

inside, it was really busy and definitely cramped. it was poorly lit, as any good bar should be, and there was the warmth that came from too many people in too small a space. a girl was walking around offering to take polaroids - a cute touch. they managed to order drinks before anything.

she sighed, watching people wander by, flashing brilliant smiles as they went off to dance or whatever else one might get up to in a bathroom.

after two drinks and the day she had had, she was pulling soonyoung away from a conversation to ask where mingyu was in the crush of people around them. it was why she was there, after all.

“which one is he?” she all but shouted her question.

he glanced around and finally oriented himself enough to point towards the bar. “he’s the tall one with black hair and no tattoos.”

she glanced towards the bar and groaned at what felt like a sea of people separating her from it. she thought soonyoung was going to introduce them, but he was engrossed in catching up with a friend.

she was left to make her way through the crowd - to her, it was like taking the train, she leaned with the crowd so she didn’t get crushed by it.

and when she finally made it to the bar, she was relieved that there was only one tall guy with black hair and no tattoos. but when she made eye contact with him, her mood dropped through the floor.

mr. dewy-skin-rosy-cock.

he seemed to make the same connection, flushing and deftly swapping positions behind the bar with one of the other bartenders. which only worked to irk her. she might have been in shock, but to see him actively avoid her only worked to renew her irritation.

once again, she wondered, who the fuck was he? slinking away like some ridiculous little boy who had gotten caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

she was quick to glance around for something to get his attention. but not seeing anything fitting, she fished one of the very perfect oversized ice cubes out of her drink and threw it.

she watched it fly through the air, almost in slow motion. she bit her lip gently, knowing it would hit him - just not knowing how perfectly.

it hit him squarely in the back of the neck, just above his shirt collar.

she almost giggled at how good of a shot it was. instead, she quickly glanced down at her drink, stirring it innocently, before he had time to whip around and make eye contact with her.

she sipped her drink before slowly looking up to see him staring at her, a look of complete disbelief coloring his face.

his disbelief was replaced almost immediately. he looked like he possibly wanted to kill her. she smiled and gave a small wave, pointing to her drink for a refill.

it wasn’t like he could prove she had thrown the ice cube.

he stalked over, his eyes signaling rage despite his customer service smile.

and before he could even ask what her drink was or reprimand her, she was leaning across the bar and introducing herself.

“i’m y/n - you’re new roommate,” she held out her hand in greeting, offering her best smile.

she was sure she could see his soul briefly leave his body at the realization.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

she knew mingyu watched her sitting at the end of the bar.

it was cute, though, that he kept refilling her drink. maybe a bit annoying that he seemed to water it down more and more. she just ordered a second one to counter it.

she hung around, glad for her late nap. she was in the perfect mood to flirt with the other bartender, the one with tattoos and the aussie accent, especially as the crowd started to thin and he wasn’t as busy.

he didn’t water down her drinks like some mother hen.

and when she offered to show him a trick, he was game.

“bet,” he said with a laugh.

“bet what, though?” she asked cutely. “i know i can do it.”

he shook his head, “naur, love, i don’t believe you - you can’t tie a cherry stem with your tongue,” he watched her, his gorgeous eyes taking her in.

she nodded. “but i can.”

she smiled and popped the maraschino cherry between her lips, eating the fruit and holding onto the stem. he watched her, appraising the situation.

“instead of a bet, what if i get a prize for doing it?” she whispered teasingly - she was loving his accent - she could only guess he would dick her down like there was no tomorrow. his black tshirt and jeans didn’t leave much to the imagination.

she watched the cute smile that flitted across his lips, “yeah, love, anything you want.” he whispered, his voice low and sweet.

she was certain his words went straight to her pussy. still, she popped the cherry stem into her mouth and, after a few seconds of work, stuck her tongue out, the little knotted stem sitting perfectly on the tip of her tongue.

“no way,” he whispered, laughing softly, genuinely surprised.

she laughed and held it out to him, “aren’t you glad you didn’t bet?”

he smiled, giving a soft nod. “impressive,” he whispered, taking the knotted stem.

he glanced up at her and started to say something.

but mingyu stepped in.

“hey, can you cash out the tab at the other end? it’s yours,” he said flatly.

she pointedly watched him walk away before finally glancing at mingyu.

“go home,” he muttered.

she leaned on her hand, “why? i’m having fun.”

he was wiping the bar and shaking his head, “you’re just sticking around to bother me.”

“and why would i do that? i barely know you,” she pouted.

he shook his head again, “look, i’m sorry about earlier”—

“yesterday now, i think,” she interrupted.

he glared, “whatever,” he said in exasperation, “i’m sorry - i was tired and in a bad mood. i shouldn’t have been rude.”

“so you’re trying to cock block me because you’re sorry?” she was confused.

but she saw the flush in his face.

no, she smiled to herself, he was cock blocking her because he thought she was cute. so fucking cute, she thought.

“and what are you going to give me if i’m a good little girl and go home?”

he shook his head. “different game,” he muttered.

she laughed softly, “tired of that one after today?”

he nodded, barely glancing up from what he was doing.

she put her hands flat on the bar, leaning a bit closer. “you’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

she could see the way red crept back into his cheeks. she smiled softly, just a gentle curling of her lips, knowing she hit the right note.

she leaned closer, her fingertips brushing his, “want me to go home and wait for you, gorgeous boy?” she bit her lip gently, her voice syrupy, “so i can take care of you after your long day, baby.”

she watched the tiny nod he gave her.

“closer,” he responded, his voice barely audible. he kept his gaze trained on the bar.

she smiled. “you know where i am, at least.” she stood up to leave - she had already closed her tab.

she didn’t mind leaving. she was glad to walk outside and feel the rush of fresh air. she had no clue when she would see him.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

it was nice to be home again. even if she had fun, she was always tired after staying up past her bedtime.

she took another shower and cleaned her face and teeth. she had dressed in a tshirt and underwear - just in time for her to hear a soft knock on the door. she grabbed an oversized cardigan and went to open the door.

it was the first time she could genuinely look at him without the rush of anyone else’s schedule or their existence bothering her. she tilted her head, watching him. it wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how he looked the day before - it’s that she had been noticing him in a way that she needed to for work - what to highlight, what to conceal (barely anything).

but now she could see that he looked tired. there was no customer service smile. just eyelids growing heavy, even as he was standing. she trailed her fingers gently along the door until she reached the handle and turned it slowly, quietly.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“did you take the bigger room?”

she glanced up from her phone, “maybe we can share,” she offered, sitting up. she watched him towel off - she smiled at the lazy way he let the towel drop to the ground. something about seeing him so easily expose himself was - she couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her lips.

she leaned back on the bed, opening her legs wide for him, dragging her fingers along her already slick pussy lips. “come here,” she whispered.

she bit her lip, watching him walk closer and drop to the bed. she grinned when he caught her thighs and pulled her down to him.

he kissed her more softly than she expected. she thought he would be urgent and hungry. but he was soft and needy.

when he finally pulled away, sighing softly, “sorry, i didn’t text sooner.”

he smiled as he said it. she shook her head, “liar.”

“but now i get you like this - all to myself - just you and me and your gorgeous cunt,” he teased.

she hadn’t known who he was the day before when she had given him a soft slap for being a bitch - she had loved the way he whined and pouted.

they were already supposed to meet.

she could feel his cock teasing her open. she pushed his shoulder. “lie back, let me fuck you.”

she straddled his hips and eased back slowly on his dick, moaning as she sank down, feeling his hands covering and squeezing her tits. her head dropped to the side - she knew she had done what she wanted, taking all of him.

her head swam. his dick was somewhere deep in her stomach, she was certain. and when she started to slowly move, she heard his soft moans - his cute whining. she reached down, tracing her finger along his lips. “so perfect,” she smiled, pressing her fingers into his mouth. riding him slowly while he licked and sucked her fingers was, fuck, she almost considered edging herself to make it last.

she picked up her pace, though, riding him faster. bouncing on him - his fingers digging into her hips, leaving red marks.

“yes, noona, just like that - make me come,” he gasped softly as she started fucking him more erratically, wanting them to both come.

she was breathless, “good, baby?”

he nodded, “harder,” he rasped.

she groaned, reaching for the wall behind him for leverage, “such a fucking brat,” she groaned, even as her thighs were starting to burn.

but then she felt it - she felt him - the heat of him filling her, just as she dropped down completely, her pussy clenching around him as she came too.

and that was when he suddenly put her on her back, picking her thighs up, fucking into her fast and desperately.

“come again,” he gasped, looking at her like he was demanding it - demanding that she come for him.

he pounded into her until suddenly she was coming - she was coming. waves and waves of pleasure that were so delicious, she could practically taste it. and the lewd sounds coming from her pussy was the most perfect sound.

he fell against her. she hugged him and petted him.

“so perfect, baby,” she whispered.

a/n: if you don't play bingo with me i have to make my own and it is idk kind of fun ...smhhhhhh sighhhhhhhhhh

♡ kat

♡ my [master list] if you want to read more

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[ full master list ]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐞_𝐤𝐚𝐭

teasers: mingyuAI [ teaser i ] |୨୧| all but break your heart

drabbles: summer coworker | #kat_drabbles

angst: no blueberries master list (college au)

fluff: waiting to feel foolish (college au) |୨୧| never happened before (magical realism au) |୨୧| hoodies & candy (college au) |୨୧| no strings (magical realm au) [pt. 1]

[ taglist ] ☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @halavia [e - drab/one/multi] ☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @ninigyuuu [m - e, b.f. priv] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [m - one/multi, b.f.non] ☁︎

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gyuldaengie97 · 3 days ago

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⠀𖼥ৎ⠀“shared seasons” ₍ k.mg ₎

───── ABOUT a glimpse of a perfect life with the love of your life

⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: domestic fluff, humour, slice of life, comfort ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf!mingyu x f!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: skinship, kissing, petnames (baby), mentions of food ⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 3.3k

A/N: tysm anon for requesting! lmk if you like this !! ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ

“Gyu, where's my toothbrush?”

Mingyu stopped brushing his teeth and turned his head to look at you—who is looking around the sink in search of a toothbrush. He points towards the mug where both of you usually put your toothbrushes.

“It should be here—” he paused, eyes widening as he pressed his lips into a thin line. The toothbrush that was in the mug was his.

With a look of disbelief and disgust, you stared at your boyfriend, who tried his best to hold in his laugh.

That meant yours was…

“Kim Mingyu!!!” you yell, reaching out to smack his shoulder, but he swiftly moves away with a giggle. “That's so— ew!” You whine, pointing at the toothbrush in his mouth.

Or should you say, your toothbrush.

“I took this by mistake! It's not a big deal!” Mingyu tried to protest.

“It is a big deal! I don't have a spare one and we have 40 minutes to get ready!”

“You have this,” he leans over with a sly smile, pointing to his toothbrush resting in the mug—slowly leaning away at your glare. “C’mon, baby, it's absolutely fine and normal between lovers.” He adds, continuing to brush his teeth with your toothbrush.

“Right,” You sigh, reaching over to grab his toothbrush instead. With a glance towards Mingyu’s direction—who was busy admiring himself in the mirror—you take the toothpaste and apply a small amount.

“It’s called a symbol of love.”

Mingyu snapped his head to look at you, eyes widening with surprise as his lips curved into a huge grin. “You're really going to use that?” He chirped, like it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Well, nothing was more wonderful than witnessing your love start to become just like you.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask with a giggle as you begin to brush your teeth. Meanwhile, Mingyu kept giggling and stealing glances at you—soon turning a bit clingy as he reached out to hold your hand.

—

Just like that, both of you freshened up and started to get dressed for the hangout. The weather was just like any other perfect night—the beginning of spring with a tolerable amount of cold.

So, according to that, you decided to wear your favourite top with a cardigan and baggy trousers. But now, the most difficult choice—accessories. With the collection you have, it’s fair to say that it feels overwhelming to choose a single one and it makes you want to take all of them with you.

However, your boyfriend knew just what would suit you the most. So, taking your favourite set of earrings, you call out for him.

“Gyu?”

He immediately looks up from his phone, waiting for you to continue. You walk towards him, staring at the earrings in your hands with a frown.

“Which one looks better?” You ask, and he gently grabs your hand to look at the earrings. For a few seconds, he examines each of them with furrowed eyebrows before grinning.

“This one,” he says, taking his chosen pair of earrings from your hands before standing up to his feet, looking at you with an adorable grin.

“Does it look good?” You ask, still a bit hesitant. He immediately nods.

“Ofcourse it does, you look good in anything.”

Your lips curve into a smile at that, and you try to shrug it off. “So corny,” you giggle, but deep down he knows you love it when he compliments you like that. Which, by the way, is an everyday thing.

“I’m just romantic, you're not,” Mingyu pouts, shining his puppy-eyes at you. You scrunch your nose amusedly before tiptoeing a little to peck his lips.

“I'm more romantic than you, baby.”

You notice the way his eyes lit up when you kissed him, and regret doing so as a hint of mischief returned to them.

“Do it again, then I'll agree.” He demanded, pointing to his puckering lips.

“No, my kisses are expensive!”

“Says the one who kissed my whole face the whole day because I brought her a bouquet of crocheted flowers.”

“You're annoying.”

“You love me.” He grinned more when he noticed the way your lips showed the tiniest hint of a smile. Before he could form his next words, you reach out to cup his cheeks before pecking his lips again.

“There,” you say with a smile before rolling your eyes as he winked at you. “Now, allow me to get ready, we're already late.”

—

Surprisingly, both of you weren't ‘late’ to the hangout. Or more like, the party hadn't started without you two.

The whole night stretched out for hours and hours, leaving you extremely exhausted and sleep-deprived. And it would be fair to say you were a bit tipsy, because of all the excitement that rushed over you. While Mingyu refused to drink because he wanted to take care of you.

Ofcourse, he was the first one to notice your exhaustion and he knew that you do not want to be here any longer.

Bidding everyone goodbye, you headed outside with Mingyu guiding you gently—one hand on the small of your back and another one holding your hand. As you reach the parking lot, you squint your eyes, trying to spot Mingyu’s car. But it was nowhere to be found.

“Where's your car?” Slightly slurring, you ask. Mingyu glances at your direction, closing his eyes tightly when he remembered that Wonwoo had requested to borrow his car just before he left the party.

“Wonwoo hyung borrowed it for today,” he says, causing you to pout.

“Are we gonna walk all the way—”

You pause, staring at Mingyu who crouched down infront of you, his back facing you.

“I'll carry you.” He says, looking over his shoulder. You shift your weight from one foot to another, shaking your head.

“No… I've gained weight. We can just walk there.”

“What do you think this is for, baby?” He asks, proudly flexing his biceps with a smirk. “And it doesn't matter if you gained weight. I don't go to the gym for nothing.”

That made you giggle. He was right.

“Okay.” You mutter, carefully placing your hands on either one of his shoulders and leaning over while his arms hovered around your back to prevent you from tripping.

“I'm gonna stand up, okay?” Mingyu says softly, and after you hum in response, he slowly gets up to his feet, careful not to startle you. You wrap your arms around his collar, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder, seeking warmth.

“Comfortable?” He asks, slightly turning his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. You nod, letting out a contented sigh.

As he confirms that, he starts to walk ahead, always making sure to check whether or not you were asleep when it got too quiet. The streets were quiet, only the faint whoosh of the breeze audible—as if the world wasn't moving and only you and Mingyu were awake at this hour.

Well, to be very honest, that could be the case. Because it already had been past 2AM by the time you both reached your shared apartment.

Mingyu guided you inside, sat you down, handed you a glass of water, removed your makeup, helped you get changed into something much more comfortable, and now, laid you down on the bed, tucking you under the warm and comfortable sheets.

All these without a single complaint. Just soft and gentle words that didn't even sound judging. It didn't sound like he was mad at you for being a bit tipsy, like he was mad at you for being unable to do basic things by yourself in this state. No. He helped you with everything without a single question.

Mingyu quietly laid down beside you, refusing to take his part of the blanket when you told him to do so. He wasn't going to take it. Not after he realised how you were shivering in the cold and your hands felt like it had been touching snow in a harsh winter. And he wasn't feeling cold anyway.

“Give me your hand,” his voice tender and patient, he took your cold hands and grabbed a hot pack before placing it between your hands and wrapping his own hands around yours. You stared at him as he did all that, feeling a rush of emotions that caused your heart to feel heavy.

“Did you go to winter wonderland without me, baby?” He joked with a smile to lighten up the mood when he noticed how quiet you were. He raised his gaze to look at you, his eyes immediately softening when they met yours that shone with unshed tears.

Letting go off your hands, he scooted closer, placing a hand on the back of your head. “Baby? Did you not like my joke? I'm so sorry, please don't cry—”

“I love you, gyu,” you breathe out, your eyes never leaving his. Those words, at that very moment, hit his heart like the cupid's arrow. Like the very first time you had uttered those words. For him.

For a second, he wanted to run away when he felt his cheeks heat up and his heart skipped a beat. But then, he wanted to hug you and never pull away.

“I love you more, though.” He says, his lips instinctively curving into a smile when he saw a grin on your face and heard the chuckle you let out.

“Are we competing now?” Mingyu nods at that, his hands trailing down to wrap around your waist as he pulls you closer to cuddle.

“We have to,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper and his eyes glimmering with nothing but admiration and love. He leans over to bury his face in your neck. “Because I do love you more.”

“This is unfair, I'm too tired to argue, gyu.”

“Does that mean I win?”

“No, I'll get you tomorrow.” You declare, causing him to giggle.

“Hm, okay,” with a lingering kiss on your shoulder, he leans away and lets you cuddle up against him as he engulfs you in his arms.

Just when he feels your breathing begin to steady and your expression becomes peaceful, he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, whispering a ‘I’ll still win tomorrow’

Lucky for him, you were long asleep by then.

—

Last night was so exhausting to the point your brain went blank, and Mingyu too, got so lost in admiring you and both of you completely forgot that today was an extremely important day for you at work aswell as for him.

Because you had to submit your work to your team leader, and Mingyu had an important business meeting to attend with another company.

Well, the reason for Mingyu was clear and true—he doesn't want to leave you alone in that state and it's actually your fault for confessing out of nowhere.

Meanwhile, you promise in your life that you'll never ever drink again in your entire life. Although your boyfriend knows that it’ll be broken by next week, he still supports you like a girl’s girl.

But that wasn't the biggest problem right now. What actually was? The fact that it was 7 in the morning right now, and you had to be present at work by 7:30.

Although Mingyu’s meeting started at 8, he still insisted on dropping you off. And the way your apartment looked like a mess right now did not help—all your clothes, belongings scattered around because you literally woke up at 6:40 and had to rush everything.

And your boyfriend was quite literally on the same page. Tripping over everything that was scattered on the floor was one of the things he was doing before he came running to you with wide puppy eyes.

“Baby, have you seen my tie?” He asks, desperately trying to find it everywhere he can. You pause, trying to think about where it could be. Then it hit you—he had put it in the washing machine just yesterday after coming back from work.

“It's… in the washing machine…” you trail off, looking over to Mingyu, who was one step away from banging his head on the wall.

“Nooo…” He whined, his lips jutting out in a pout. Suddenly, he huffed and sprinted outside of the bedroom, heading somewhere.

Oh no. You really don't wish it was what you're thinking right now.

Soon, he enters the bedroom. This time, his brown and black tie that was put in the washing machine was in his hands as he aggressively tried to wrap it around his neck.

“Baby… you're really gonna wear that?” You ask in disbelief, although you did expect him to do that.

He raises his gaze, still trying to do the tie. “I don't have a spare one…” He mumbles in a pouty voice, and you could see how stressed he was.

He had a huge meeting ahead, and this shitty day was already starting off bad.

Letting out a sigh, you walk towards him. “Let me do it, gyu.” You say, and his lips immediately curved into a grin, making you smile aswell. Just as he hands you the tie, you sniff something and scowl.

“What's that burning smell?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows funnily.

“Huh?” He leans over to your side and sniffs, his expression instantly shifting from confusion to pure horror.

“Oh no,” he hisses to himself before running to the kitchen. You blinked in confusion, turning around to watch as he almost tripped over nothing on the way there. You followed behind him hastily, feeling the extreme panic radiate from him.

You soon reached the kitchen as well, asking him what's wrong as he stood there like a statue.

“Gyu—” you walk over to him, your eyes landing on the pan that rested over the stove with a burnt omelette in it. You gasp, quickly turning the stove off before looking over to Mingyu who stood there, shoulders slumped in disbelief, shock or sadness—you couldn't even tell.

“Baby…” he mumbled, unable to keep his laugh of self-destruction. Despite his attempts to stay composed, his eyes became a little teary, so you immediately reached out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug.

“It's okay, don't worry about it,” You pat his back, trying to comfort him as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I messed it up… now you’ll have to work on an empty stomach and that's not something nice.” He complains, still upset that you will be hungry, not him. You let out a soft chuckle at that.

“Hey, we can always grab something from the store while we walk to work, right?” You suggest in an amused voice, and he immediately perks up at that. But then he frowns.

“We’ll walk? But why?”

“Your car is still with Wonwoo, remember?” Just as you say that, Mingyu lets out a whine and leans against the wall behind him, as if among those 99 problems, another one had struck him like thunder to make it a 100.

You laugh at his dramatic reaction, placing your hands on his shoulders as you shake him a little. “C’mon, isn't it a good thing? Quality time, we call it.”

Ofcourse, that meant you would be a bit late to work. But maximum just by 10 minutes, so it wouldn't hurt.

“Are you sure?” He asks, again thinking about you and not himself. You nod, then notice the light in his eyes return in an instant.

“Then we should hurry up!” He chirps, and suddenly, he is all energetic and enthusiastic again.

Because of him, you are ready in just five minutes as he helped you do your hair and found everything you were searching for in the scattered mess. As for him, he just needed to wear the tie and do his hair, and you both were good to go.

—

Strolling down the street, hand in hand, with a bun in your other hand and a chocolate bread in his as you both talked about how this day would be so exhausting—sounded so peaceful after the hectic and rushed morning the two of you had experienced.

After Mingyu dropped you off, he headed to Wonwoo’s place to get his car back because he still had 20 minutes until the meeting. Also because he learned that the CEO being five minutes late doesn't matter anyway, the meeting should just go well.

Fast forwarding the time—you didn't think that your day would go by so smoothly. While you were glad and happy, you kept wondering how Mingyu’s day went.

Was the meeting successful? Did he have a good day? Or was he upset?

By the time you had gotten off work, you were sure he was done too. So, you dialed his number to ask him about his day but just then, a car pulled up on the road infront of you. As the windows rolled down, revealing Mingyu with a smile, you noticed the way his eyes didn't carry his usual spark.

Turns out, you were correct. But when your boyfriend said he will just have a pack of ramen before going to bed, you immediately refuse.

You weren't letting him go to bed with basically an empty stomach. Not after he had not even eaten lunch because of the business partner who always felt the need to drag out things and make everything more stressful.

“I'm okay, you don't have to cook..” Mingyu mumbles, watching you cut vegetables as he stands behind you. You shake your head firmly enough to let him know that you weren't going to back down.

“You need to eat, gyu. And I can cook for you.” You say, turning your head to glance at him once. For a moment, he stands still with no reaction, but then he pouts, stepping forward to wrap his arms around your torso, his face buried in your shoulder.

“That man pisses me off so bad.” He suddenly started ranting, and you listened to his complaints intendly. He ranted about how, out of anyone in the company, his personal assistant would be the last one he would suspect of something, and yet he turned out to be the one snitching on his company to their rivals.

“I trusted him alot, baby…” Mingyu mumbles against your shoulder. You raise one of your hands to cup his cheek as you turn around to face him so he could hug you properly.

“Come here,” you open your arms with a smile, and he immediately pulls you to his side to hug you. He sighs in contentment, the corners of his lips finally curving into a soft smile as he buried his face in your neck.

“Don't beat yourself up for it. You trusted someone, but they didn't turn out to be like you expected. That's fine, baby, that's really fine. Just be careful with how the person is before you trust them.” You say, patting his back gently as you rocked him side by side like a baby. He hummed in response and nodded, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

“But that doesn't apply to me.” you joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, and Mingyu immediately let out a chuckle at that, tightening his grip around you.

“Why not?” He pulls back slightly to look at you in amusement.

“Because I'm special. Very special.” You grin at him as he takes a few seconds to just stare at you before laughing again.

“I can't argue with that.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“That's what I thought.”

The kitchen air was filled with your usual giggles and playful banters after that. But in the back of your mind, both of you knew the importance of each other. The importance of having each other in your lives.

No matter how the weather was—gloomy, rainy, thundering or sunny—it was never so bad for you two to stay apart. That wasn't just about the weather. And no matter what the season is, both of you will share the day with each other. It didn't always have to be a day filled with laughs and silliness, but it didn't pull you apart. Never.

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gyuldaengie97 · 3 days ago

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♡ ʜᴏᴛ ɢɪʀʟ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ: ᴍɪɴɢʏᴜ ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingyu x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: smut/angst/fluff

♡ Summary: A night out with your boyfriend takes an unexpected turn when his ex shows up at the same party with her heart set on getting him back. After catching her flirting with him you run off, deciding to continue your night without him but Mingyu's not letting you go so easily. He comes after you with full intentions of showing you that you're the only girl he wants and he'll do whatever it takes to prove it.

♡ Warnings: drinking, mingyu has a lil switch energy, dirty talk, some very wet oral sex (f receiving), mingyu loves your clit, tongue fucking, pussy drunk mingyu, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, spanking, scratching, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, pet names (baby, princess)

♡ A/N: Hello my darlings. This is the second entry or "track" in my Hot Girl Playlist series. This is the ✨masterlist✨ if you wanna check it out. As a chubby Mingyu biased babe I low-key had too much fun making this but, like, is that even possible? Anyways, I hope you have fun reading, my loves xoxoxo

“Bout 20 missed calls he faded. White boy wasted, Channing Tatum” - Megan thee Stallion

“Girl that man is blowing your phone up” your best friend smirks, squeezing in beside you to check herself out in the mirror. “What’d you lace your pussy with? Crack?”

You almost snort laughing at her comment, “Shut the fuck up.”

“What?” she giggles, eyeing your phone as it vibrates on the edge of the sink, “It’s not my fault the boy’s addicted. You should answer him. You know how Min gets.”

Swiping a sultry nude gloss along the bow of your upper lip, you spare your phone a glance. It flashes a familiar name accompanied by a photo of you with the man in question. It’s a selfie from the last beach trip you took together. Your soft lips are pressed to his cheek and he’s making the cutest face, his nose scrunched up at the warmth your kiss sends rushing to his face. You vividly remember how happy the two of you were that day but right now happiness is the last thing that comes to mind when you think of him.

Your phone stops ringing and for a moment there’s nothing. Only the muffled sound of music bleeding in from a party raging just beyond the door. And then another vibration. A text message.

Mingyu: Where are you? Did you leave?

“He can get however he wants” you huff, shoving your phone into your purse, “He’ll get over it or he won’t. Either way.”

“Cold blooded” she teases, shaking her head, “Who knew you could be such a brat?”

A brat? You aren’t being a brat. Well, maybe a little but it’s not like you don’t have good reason to be. You know for a fact that she’d be livid if she were in your position. Five minutes. That’s how long you left Mingyu alone before his ex was all over him. You’ve never been ignorant to the possibility that he’d run into her again. They travel in the same social circles so it was bound to happen at some point. What you didn’t expect was for it to sting this much when it did.

Your mind cruelly plays back the image of Mingyu’s ex cuddled up beside him on the couch, her fingertips at the ready to stroke his pecs through his shirt. To his credit, he did grab her by the wrist, saying something to her that you couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, it was clear from the look on her face that she didn’t like it, but it wasn’t until she noticed you approaching that she scurried back to where she came from.

He swore on his life that it was nothing. She’d come over flirting, he told her he had a girlfriend, and that was the end of it. But you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing him as to why she felt so comfortable coming over to begin with. Why was he just sitting there? Why didn’t he kick her clean across the room before she even managed to get that close?

Maybe that last one was a bit irrational but you were pissed. Making sense was the last thing on your mind. You walked off before he could answer, deciding that you weren’t gonna let this ruin your night out. If he wanted to stick around he had his own friends to hang with. You’d go off and do your own thing. You look way too good in this dress to let it go to waste.

Mingyu started blowing your phone up almost immediately. Call after call with frantic texts sprinkled in between. You were positive that he must be searching every floor of this house to find you but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when you were busy downing shots and shaking ass on your bestie like she was your man. That distracted you from your emotions long enough but staring at your reflection in the mirror now you feel your gut twisting, a hint of sadness lingering behind your eyes.

“I’m heading back out. You ready?” your best friend asks, heading for the door.

You force a smile, pretending to dig through your purse for something. “I’ll be out in a sec. Meet me downstairs by the bar?”

“Fine but hurry up. I told those dudes we’d kick their asses in beer pong and I refuse to be proven wrong.”

“Because god forbid we ruin your beloved beer pong streak” you tease and she lovingly flips you off on her way out.

You keep that fake smile plastered on your face until you’re sure she’s gone and the second she is you deflate. You want so badly to keep up the facade of a girl unphased by anything but you’re phased. You’re phased so hard and nothing can change that. No amount of shots will make you forget how your heart sunk to the floor at the sight of them together.

You recall hearing that his ex was a model. She’d walked at New York Fashion Week once and made it into a few ads. By the looks of her you can believe it. It hurts to admit but the girl was gorgeous. What if, somewhere in the back of Mingyu’s mind, seeing her made him regret his decision? Your spiraling thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door that forces you out of your own head.

“Someone’s in here!” you shout but the door knob’s still turning. Thank god you aren’t on the toilet right now. “I said someone’s in here!”

“I heard you,” Mingyu says as he forces his way inside, slamming the door behind him.

He gives you no time to process, pinning you against the sink before you can react. Muscular arms cage you in on each side, as his dark eyes stare into yours, his gaze sharp enough to slice you to pieces.

“I’ve called you, like, 20 times. Why aren’t you answering?”

You sigh, in no mood to be interrogated, “I don’t know, Min. I haven’t really been checking my phone.”

Mingyu sucks his teeth, the veins in his arms flexing as his grip tightens around the edge of the sink. “That’s bullshit. I know you’ve been ignoring me.”

You can tell by the rosy tint of his cheeks that he’s been drinking more than he should. If you’re being honest, you have been too. The mature thing would be to wait until you’re both sober to have this conversation but that ship has sailed.

“I haven’t been ignoring you, you’re just wasted and paranoid” you snap, seeing nothing wrong with a bit of gaslighting under the circumstances.

“Wasted and paranoid?” he scoffs, “Projecting a little bit aren’t we?”

“Oh, fuck you. Get off me.”

You place your hands on his chest with every intention to push him away but when he hangs his head, regret washing over his face, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he says through a curtain of silky dark hair, “I shouldn’t have said that. I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I don’t know how to not be mad, Min” you say, the sincerity in his voice tugging at your heartstrings, “I thought that part of your life was over.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair, meeting your eyes with a gaze that’s much softer now. “It is over. It has been for a long time. If I knew she was gonna be here we never would’ve come. That girl doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re the only one who does.”

When you turn your head away leaving a long span of silence where your words should be, he cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. His thumb sweeps gently across your cheek and you melt like ice cream on a sunny day. You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol or the ex thing but you’re hit with a sudden wave of emotion, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I just don’t want you to regret choosing me” you confess, your voice breaking as you fight back tears.

Mingyu can never stand to see you cry and it breaks him to know that you might, especially over something like this. “How can I regret choosing you when you aren’t optional? It’s not her or you. It’s just you. I love you. You have to know that.” You sniffle, a tear racing over the curve of your cheek. Mingyu wipes it away, the pad of his thumb soothing the spot where it fell.

“Tell me you know that” he pleads, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, “I love you. What do I have to do for you to believe me? You want me to get down on my knees?”

“I—” you start to speak but he’s already dropping to his knees, looking up at you with the sweetest doe eyes. “Get up off the floor.”

Mingyu rests his chin against the softness of your thighs, delighting in their warmth. “No. Not until you believe me” he says, planting tender kisses where your thighs meet, “If my word’s not good enough maybe my actions can be.”

You snake your fingers through his hair, gently tugging his head back but his lips are drawn to your body like magnets. They’re back on you in an instant, his tongue dragging across the surface of your skin as his lips find their way to the hem of your dress. You watch with bated breath as Mingyu grabs you by the hips, gathering the fabric of your dress between his fingers. He raises it little by little, each kiss inching him closer and closer to his final destination.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your body tingling in all the places his lips meet.

How demure of you to ask that question when you already know the answer. You know very well why he’s pushing this skin tight black dress up over your waist, his tongue teasing the silk trim of your panties. The emotions you’re feeling tonight are enough to give you whiplash. One minute you’re storming off, the next you’re on the verge of tears, and now your pussy’s wetter than a faucet. What’s a girl to do?

Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Mingyu buries his face between your thighs, his nose grazing the spot where your stiff little clit has just begun to throb. He nuzzles against it, sending faint notes of pleasure rippling through you.

He draws in a deep breath, salivating at your scent. “You always smell so fucking good, baby” he hums, stroking the growing wet spot in your panties. “Always so wet for me too.”

Mingyu tucks your panties to the side and you release the lightest moan at the sensation of the cool air meeting your dripping core. At the same time your nipples tighten behind the fabric of your dress and the combination leaves you purring. Your boyfriend’s not faring any better. He was hard before he got down here, just the thought of tasting you had gotten him there, but seeing your pussy be so pretty and wet has his cock pulsing against the unforgiving material of his pants.

If only you could feel how badly he wants you—how he craves you every day in more ways than one—maybe then you wouldn’t question his devotion. When you wouldn’t answer his calls he swore up and down that he wouldn’t just let you get away with it only to fold for you in under a minute. He’s quite literally on his knees for you but there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

“Aah, Min…” you whine when he plunges a finger into your warmth.

Your purse tumbles to the ground, the contents spilling across the tile floor as you prop your elbows back up against the sink. A clumsy attempt at keeping your trembling body from giving out on you. It’s mind blowing how just one finger can feel this good. How such delicate strokes can make your walls clench so tightly.

“You want more?” Mingyu asks, glancing up to you. He already has the next finger at the ready, ghosting your slit. You rock your hips towards that sickeningly handsome face of his and he sticks his tongue out, letting it glide over your clit. “Use your words, princess. I need you to say it. You want one more?” He introduces a third, stretching you open just enough to tease you with them. “Two more?”

Your pussy’s aching, your walls fluttering wildly, doing everything to draw him in. You part your lips and the sexiest, neediest voice comes out. “Mmm, two more. Please, Min.”

Mingyu smiles, giving you exactly what you asked for. You were so polite with it. How could he ever deny you? It takes little effort on his part to guide the other two into you. Your pussy’s so eager that it sucks them right up, your juices saturating his fingers so that every movement makes a delicious squelching sound. It’d be a nice form of payback to toy with you for a while—make you beg for his attention after denying him of yours for the past hour—but that’d be torturing himself too. The taste of your clit lingers on his tongue and he knows that if he doesn’t have more he’ll go insane.

His mouth crashes into you, his tongue hungrily lapping at your pussy like it’s the first thing he’s had all night. It may not be the first thing but it’s hands down the best. The satisfied groans he makes while circling your clit do more than enough to tell you so. It’s hard to keep yourself upright when he’s eating you out like this, his fingers drilling into you, stretching you so perfectly that your thigh’s quaking on his shoulder. You press your lips together, doing your best to keep quiet, but Mingyu will have none of that. He knows exactly where your sweet spot is and he hits it every time, destroying any chance you have at being quiet.

“Don’t hold back, baby” he coos, pulling back to show you a face drenched in your juices, “I wanna hear all those pretty moans while you come on my face.”

Slipping his fingers out of you, Mingyu grips your hips, lifting you onto the counter like it’s nothing. It stings when your plush ass hits the polished marble but there’s no time to process if there’s truly any pain. Mingyu’s hands are on your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the counter and spreading your legs wide. He dives back in, his tongue filling the space where his fingers once were. With one hand full of your soft belly, he uses the other to play with your clit, pressing down on the bud as his tongue rides the ridges of your walls.

You let your moans flow freely, all of the shyness leaving your body the moment his tongue enters it. You catch yourself feeling light headed and you know for sure this time that it isn’t the alcohol. Your hips stutter and Mingyu locks eyes with you, both of you knowing how dangerously close you are to your high. He moves faster—messier—slurping you down. You extend a shaky hand between your legs, lovingly petting his cheek as he pushes you to the brink.

He locks his arms around your thighs, forcing you to stay in place while you squirt down his throat. Your body twists in his grip but it’s no match for his strength. You can’t run from this. He wants you to feel it and fuck do you feel it. Your vision goes blurry and you swear you go deaf for a minute. By the time you’re coming down you aren’t even sure which planet you’re on.

Mingyu takes his time standing up, getting his last few licks in as he rises. He’s so drunk off of your pussy that the room’s spinning a bit when he comes up. He clings to the counter for support, his lips glistening with your cum as he stands over you looking like he wants more. Sitting up, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for a sloppy, breathless kiss that tastes entirely of you.

“You said you love me, Min?” you whisper between his lips. You sneak a hand between the two of you, rolling your palm against his bulge.

Mingyu nods, moaning as he leans into your touch, “Mmhmm, love you so much.”

Popping the button on his jeans open, you slide the zipper down, dipping a hand into his boxers to stroke his length. “Then fuck me like you do.”

Your words are like gasoline to a flame that’s been raging inside of him since he planted that first kiss on your thigh. You’ve barely even finished your sentence when he’s sliding you off the counter, the back of your dress bunched up in his hand as he bends you over the sink.

“Ooh, someone’s excited” you giggle, squealing as he snatches your panties down hard enough to make them rip. “I hope you know you’re buying me new ones.”

You poke your ass out and he gives it a harsh slap just to watch it jiggle. “Keep being this cute and I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

“In that case, I did see some shoes I liked the other day and…aaah”

Mingyu rubs the tip of his cock against your entrance and you’re dizzier than you've ever been. He’s not even in yet, just barely stretching you open, but you’re so sensitive from your last orgasm that a light breeze could make you shiver.

Mingyu’s eyes flit back and forth between two visions he wishes he could burn into his brain. First there’s the reflection of you in the mirror, so pretty your bottom lip wedged between your teeth, hips rocking as he presses into you. And then there’s that glorious space between your legs, so creamy and warm, trickling juices with every inch it’s fed. The whimper that escapes him when he bottoms out makes you clamp down on him, his cock twitching in your core, his arousal slicking your walls.

Grabbing your ass cheeks, he spreads you open, stretching you wider. “You know who this cock belongs to. Don’t you, baby?”

“I…I don’t know” you tease, “Is it mine?”

Mingyu draws back a bit, thrusting into you so that your lush breasts bounce from the impact. “You tell me.” He pulls back again, his hips snapping into you even rougher. “Does it feel like it’s yours?”

“Aah, fuck, yes it’s mine” you moan, heels scraping against the tile as your back arches.

He rewards a good answer with an increase in pace, each stroke faster than the last. If Mingyu had to compare being inside you to any feeling in the world he wouldn’t be able to do it. His brain can’t grasp a single thing on this planet that can even come close to this. You could stimulate all his senses at one time, flood them with every pleasure known to man, and it’d still be nothing compared to you.

In the midst of your own bliss you catch glimpses of him behind you, fucking you like it’s all he was ever made for. He’s ready to unravel over you and the knowledge of what you’re doing to him only heightens what you feel.

“Love you, Min” you whisper back at him, properly returning his affection for the first time tonight. You say it like you mean it. Your insecurities wilting away to leave nothing but pure admiration for the man who loves you.

It hits Mingyu hard, the pressure inside of him reaching its peak. He clenches his teeth, nails scraping along the swollen flesh of your ass. He’s holding back so hard that it hurts, refusing to let himself reach his high before you do.

Reaching behind you, you gently stroke the back of his hand, “Come for me, mmph, wanna feel you.”

Your voice rings in his ears, making him lose any shred of sanity he had left. Hot ropes of cum spurt from the head of his cock, hitting you right where it needs to and you’re falling apart right along with him. Mingyu doesn’t let up on you, the juices spilling from your walls only making him want you more. No matter how messy—how sticky, how wet—he wants every bit of you until there’s nothing left.

“Fuck, I think I’m dying” he gasps, his heart pounding as he peels himself away from you. He’s only halfway through fixing his pants when his balance gives out and he slumps to the floor.

You turn around to find him sitting there, your own limbs barely keeping you up. “You’re not dying. You’re just dehydrated. Want some water?”

Lugging yourself over to him, you collapse onto his lap and he doesn’t hesitate to take you into his arms. You rest your head on his shoulder and he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“No thank you. I already have what I want” he smiles, kissing your inner wrist.

You want to scold him—tell him that no, actually he does need some water—but you let it go. Choosing instead to enjoy the warmth of being in his arms as his kisses make their way from your wrist to your fingertips. Mingyu worships you, honestly and truly, and it’s about time you just let him.

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gyuldaengie97 · 3 days ago

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LOVE HANGOVER !

summary: falling in love with Kim Mingyu wasn’t the best idea.

pairing: idol! Mingyu x idol! reader

note: i mean the reader kinda dumb, kim mingyu a player cause im mad at jim how can he be so cute and so not mine😡☝🏾

your solo was killing it everywhere, idols were asking to film the dance challenges with you, it was a win after win, everything was great.

you were laughing with your crew as you got ready for a performance, suddenly a knock was heard and some staff entered with a huge bouquet of red roses.

ruby roses congratulating ruby <3

you deserve the world, pretty girl - km

the room was filled with squeaks and giggles as you read the note.

you met Mingyu when both were 18, both just debuting and young.

friendships started to grow along your career and suddenly one day one of your friends added you to a getaway, with other of her friends.

the day everything went wrong.

you got together with Kim Mingyu, and although he wasn’t the superstar he is now he was extremely charming.

the problem was that, he was charming whenever he was in the mood.

after intimate moments during that little vacation, you added him in kakao and followed his secret instagram account, then decided to message him but he replied:

we aren’t allowed to date, sorry pretty girl.

the humiliation was horrible and you decided to never contact him again…that until your friend’s birthday.

were things got crazy again.

then, a Calvin Klein after party, in which the real after party was at his newly acquired place.

you found yourself falling again and again.

you knew he was in one of the dressing rooms as a part of you couldn’t contain the emotion of sharing a performance show with his group.

“i talked with seventeen’s manager, you can ask one pr two members to do the challenge with you” your manager entered the room.

the other thing is that nobody knows what goes on between you and Mingyu, only your close friends the ones that introduced you.

you swallowed thickly and walked over the door with their name, knocked and exhaled a shaky breath.

soon you meet Mingyu opening the door, smile dropping a bit in disbelief when he saw you.

“hi Min, can i come in?” you almost whispered, he nodded.

“you look beautiful” he replied quietly as well, stepping aside to let you in.

you greeted and walked straight to Dino and Hoshi, both known for their dancing skills, they agreed.

you filmed and laughed for a bit, forgetting the guy across the room looking directly at you.

“if you don’t decide, someone else will” the stylist said as she saw the look in his face.

“it’s complicated and i don’t want to talk about it” he almost sulked as you were walking out.

Dino was fun, a little young, but fun, he just told you to come to his favorite bar to drink god knows what beverage which you agreed to.

you had a friendly date with Mingyu’s bandmate next sunday.

you almost yelled in excitement and relief, something new was happening, no more Kim Mingyu.

or that’s what you thought till you felt someone tugging your wrist.

a well known front crashed into yours, lifting your head to see and confirm it was him.

“you liked the flowers?” he smiled, soon your legs turned into jello, you was still weak.

you couldn’t talked so you nodded, with a shy smile.

“how about we have dinner, next sunday?”

“i think that’s perfect” you smiled lovingly, he corresponded with one as well.

he bended down and kissed lightly the outline of your lips, making you shiver.

“see you around pretty girl” he came back to his room, leaving you there again, daydreaming.

tomorrow the love hangover will be strong.

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gyuldaengie97 · 3 days ago

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"Starved.."

Idol!KimMingyu x Fem!reader

EXPLICIT CONTENT. MDNI!!!

They barely made it to the bedroom.

Mingyu's lips dragged down the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to pull a gasp from your throat, hands slipping under your shirt like he couldn’t bear the space between you. You clung to him, moaning softly into his mouth when he effortlessly lifted you onto the bed.

“Off,” he murmured, tugging at your clothes. You giggled breathlessly, helping him, your skin already flushed with anticipation. But then his gaze locked on you—bare, vulnerable, beautiful—and everything slowed.

He stilled, kneeling between your thighs, his chest rising and falling heavily. “God, I missed you,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “I didn’t forget how stunning you are like this… I just tried not to think about it, or I would've lost my mind on tour.”

Your laugh caught in your throat when he dipped his head, lips traveling down your body, slow and deliberate, each kiss branding heat into your skin. By the time he spread your thighs, you were shaking. But he didn’t tease. He didn’t ask. He dove in like a man starved.

“Mingyu—shit—” your back arched, his tongue pressing deep, his grip bruising on your hips to hold you still. He was relentless—messy, soaked in want, moaning into you like he was drunk on the way you tasted. Your breath hitched as his mouth found you, reverent and devastating.

“Let me take my time,” he whispered against your skin, voice rough. “Let me ruin you a little.” And then he did.

He held your hips down with those strong, calloused hands, his tongue working you open, unhurried at first, then deeper, hungrier—like he was starved for you. It was messy, intense, overwhelming. You gasped his name again and again, fingers tangled in his hair, thighs clenching around his head.

He didn’t stop until you were crying out, coming apart beneath him. Even then, he kept going, licking you through it, gentle now, letting you ride out every trembling wave until you were panting and begging.

When he finally looked up, his lips were slick, his eyes dark with desire—and something deeper.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, voice wrecked.

“Then get up here and kiss me,” you whispered, pulling him in.

And that’s exactly what he did.

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gyuldaengie97 · 3 days ago

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Hi nini <3 hope you're doing wonderful!!

Can I request 24. showing up injured at their friend/mentor's place with Mingyu? Like, reader is blood soaked or has broken ribs or bones or something and mingyu fixes them? And maybe a really tender and classic™ kdrama moment where mingyu tends to their injury on face/lips 👀

hi lovely! <3 i am doing good, hope you are too! thank you very much for requesting, hopefully you'll like it <3

prompt: showing up injured at their friend/mentor's place

'your first time in my house and you're coming here looking like you're back from the war,' mingyu mutters, coming back with scissors. he kneels in front of you, carefully extending your right leg on his thigh. 'let me know if it hurts.'

'it hurts,' you instantly quip, because it does. everything below your right knee stings and hurts like a bitch.

'that fall was nasty, huh?' mingyu questions, looking at the torn up state of your jeans. 'you sure you're fine with me just cutting them?'

you nod, grimacing a little. 'yeah, go ahead.'

falling from the bike and almost scraping whole right side of your body raw was not on your bingo card for the holidays, but you should've had a better grip. you and mingyu were supposed to meet in two hours and the joke about how you couldn't wait to meet him so you fell off the bike is not very funny, to be honest. everything aches and you pitifully watch your favorite pair of jeans being cut by your friend, who looks way too concerned. 'you trust me, yeah?' mingyu suddenly asks, looking up.

that's a loaded question. it kind of is embarrassing how much you trust mingyu, because.. it's mingyu. your best friend/kinda a crush/best boy on this planet and of course you trust him. 'yep,' you answer and then shout loudly, when mingyu very quickly picks you up bridal style. 'mingyu!'

'gotta take you to the bathroom, those cuts need to be washed and desensitized,' he explains like him picking you up is nothing.

'i could've walked!' you argue, gripping his shoulders.

mingyu sends you a pointed glare and you huff, rolling your eyes. yeah, okay, maybe walking would've been a lot harder. mingyu is incredibly gentle with you: from the way he settles you on the edge of the bathtub to the way he takes off your sock and starts cleaning your cuts. every touch is full of care and even when he starts blowing on the cuts after desensitizing them, he only reverently caresses your skin, when you try not to cry. it makes you feel a little dizzy inside and you shake your head, trying to come back to your senses. 'it looks like someone died here,' you joke, pointing at the all red bathtub. 'my god, just few cuts and so much blood.'

'not just few cuts, you're literally bruised everywhere,' mingyu tsks, gently rubbing your leg with a towel. 'we still need to go to the hospital, i think.'

'what a great weekend you're having, tending to my injuries and then taking me to the hospital,' you cringe, sighing. 'sorry, mingyu. it's such a downer to our plans.'

two slim fingers take a hold of your chin, making you look up. your breath hitches at the proximity of his face, of his big sincere eyes that look at you with nothing but reverance. 'what are you sorry for?' he asks quietly, not letting you look away. 'it's not a downer, i just want you to be okay. i'm the one who's sorry for your jeans.'

you both smile at this. mingyu doesn't lean back and you can feel your cheeks heating up, when he leans closer, inspecting your face. god is there something- 'hold still,' he orders gently, carefulyl dabbing at your right side with a wet towel. 'you should be more careful, dear. can't have you hurting yourself like that.'

it stings. cuts sting, but your close your eyes not due to the pain; it's too hard to stare at mingyu this close. because from this up close it's so easy to mistake his friendly care for something else, something much more intimate, something like-

'open your eyes,' he whispers and when you do, he smiles at you lovingly. he's so close that your noses are almost touching and it's messing with your head more than you care to admit. catching your eyes, mingyu smiles. 'hi.'

you blink. 'hi.'

his eyes never leave yours and it feels a bit surreal. it's like time stopped and it's just you two together, staring into each other's eyes like there's nothing else exists. little did you know that it is like that for mingyu - he can easily spend hours getting lost in your eyes, but he doesn't think you're ready to learn about it just yet. with a great restraint, he leans back, smiling at the way you exhale loudly. good to know that he's not the only one affected. 'i'll find you something to wear instead of your jeans and let's get you to the hospital.'

you nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. mingyu helps you up and then carries you again but this time to his bedroom, which makes you blush even harder. while you're trying not to let your feelings show, mingyu is trying to not overthink - his mind keeps on picturing other scenarios of why you'd might need his clothes (because you stayed the night. not as a friend, but as his lover, as his girlfriend, as-

'mingyu?' he comes back to himself, turning to you. 'i said that anything of yours is fine.'

you have no idea what you do to him with those words. or maybe you do, judging by rosy blush on your cheeks. mingyu has to re-think his idea that you're not ready to hear about his feelings. looking at you sitting comfortably on his bed, looking like you belong there, he thinks that you might be very, very ready.

a/n: hopefully this was alright dear, let me know! - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen work is here

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gyuldaengie97 · 3 days ago

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a list of the known | kmg

lastly, mingyu might kind of be in love with you. this, by far, is the trickiest on his list.

pairing: gryffindor kim mingyu x slytherin f!reader genre: fluff, very pg! tags: school bully calls reader a derivation of mudblood :/ mention of death in the scope of an ethics dilemma a/n: my hp hyper-fixation has returned full force these past few days, so i just had to crank this one out to get it out of my system... pls indulge me <3 wc: 3.5k

Mingyu finds you fascinating. In fact, the Gryffindor has been determined to figure out the mystery that is you, ever since the first day of first year, when you quietly, shyly slipped into the seat beside him in Transfiguration. Here’s everything that he has gathered about you and compiled into a list (mentally, of course, he wouldn’t ever write this down and risk coming off like a creep):

First, you’re a perfect student. That one’s the easiest.

Even in fifth year, you wear your green and white trimmed sweater over the neatly pressed collared shirt and knotted striped tie, as properly as you did on your first ever day at Hogwarts. The “P” for prefect shines silver from your lapel, though it carries no more authority than the stern, icy look you give to students who toe the line of good behavior. Mingyu himself has been on the receiving end of that glare once or twice, when he and his teammates accidentally tracked mud into the halls from the Quidditch field. He shudders from time to time at the recollection of the chill that crept down his spine as he stammered over his words and promised that his team would clean up their mess.

Mingyu thinks that you wear the badge more like a brand, rather than an honor. You’ve always been on top of things, never a toe out of line, always the first or the best, or both, to do something. Ever since you were selected as one of two Slytherin prefects, he doesn’t know if he’s seen you take a single breath of relief. Whenever he sees you guiding a lost first-year up the shifting staircases or tugging a third-year rascal by the hood of his robe to the infirmary, Mingyu then wonders why the Headmaster ever selected him as a prefect, too.

It worries him that you seem to be headed in a straight trajectory towards the Head Girl position in a few years, whether you intend for it to happen or not.

Second, you hail from a Muggle family. That part took him a few days to figure out.

It had been strange, the way that you chose to sit next to him, a Gryffindor, rather than with the cluster of your housemates in the back of the classroom, where they giggled and whispered. Mingyu, thrilled at the idea of making friends across house alliances, had excitedly thrust his hand over to you, introducing himself with a big grin. Your eyes had widened as you stared back at him in silence for a few minutes, before returning the handshake with the slide of a tiny, soft palm against his and a mumble of your own name. He must’ve missed the tittering coming from the serpents in the back corner that day.

Mingyu really didn’t notice anything amiss until one day, you didn’t show up to History. Maybe you woke up late (though he never once saw you not in your seat, exactly five minutes before class started), no biggie. It starts to become a biggie when you miss Herbology, on a Mandrake repotting day, and then Charms, which he knows is your favorite class. Anxiety gnaws at the edges of his stomach until he pulls aside a boy with a green-and-white scarf and asks about you.

“Who?” is the snarl that comes from the boy, who wrinkles his nose as if disgusted to even be in the presence of a Gryffindor.

Mingyu frowns, but he won’t be deterred until he figures out where you are. He repeats your name and then starts describing you, though it gets him nowhere.

The Slytherin’s ugly scowl transforms into an uglier smirk. “Oh, Muddy? Probably off somewhere sniveling about being shoved down the stairs–”

Mingyu sees red, and his ears won’t stop ringing. When his vision and his hearing return to him, the Slytherin boy wails on the ground before him, lip split and nostrils dripping blood. A professor yells, subtracting points from both houses, and firm hands hold him back by the shoulders.

It’s a nasty, nasty thing to call someone who comes from a non-wizarding family. Blood prejudice was one of the first things Mingyu had been taught to abhor by his own parents in childhood. There is no space in the Kims’ world for the terrible thoughts that some pureblooded wizards hold toward those who came from Muggle roots. In fact, he'd grown up being taught that Muggle-born wizards and witches are more admirable for it, as they must learn and adapt to a whole new universe that they hadn’t grown up in.

Mingyu respects, marvels at how you, quietly but surely, know all of the answers to the questions the professors ask. Every question, in every subject. He couldn’t imagine ever thinking any lesser of you for your origins of birth, when you were performing lightyears ahead of your pureblooded classmates.

The following day, when he walks into Potions, you’re already setting up your cauldron, meticulously tending to the low fire. Mingyu drops his bag onto the bench beside yours, carefully assessing a tiny scratch on your cheek, a bruise on your elbow peeking out from where you’ve neatly folded up sleeves up to.

You glance up at his arrival, eyes latching onto the tiny bandage plastered to his eyebrow, where the Slytherin boy’s nail had sliced into him as he flailed. “What happened to you?” Your voice wisps out, nearly inaudible.

“Nothing. What happened to you?”

Something flickers across your gaze as you look away for a moment, pretending to check on your bubbling cauldron. Then, with the tiniest quirk to your mouth, you shrug, “Nothing.”

He grins.

Third, you’re a Slytherin, through and through. This took him a few years, surprisingly.

With your whip-smart mind, Mingyu wonders why the Sorting Hat hadn’t placed you in Ravenclaw instead. After all, it seemed a bit cruel to send a Muggle-born child into a house teeming with pureblood supremacists.

In fact, you had taken to Wonwoo quite easily when Mingyu introduced you to the half-Muggle Ravenclaw. The way that the two of you discussed wizarding and Muggle books, conversations flowing seamlessly from one topic to another without losing each other to any lapse of thought, both fascinated Mingyu and made his head hurt. Once in a while, he can't help but feel left out, but most of the time, he’s happy that you seem to have found another friend in Wonwoo.

Mingyu finally came to understand your placement only in fourth year. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, there had been a duelling unit, and you had been pitted up against Hoon, the Slytherin boy who Mingyu had pummeled a few years back. As far as he could tell, Hoon hadn’t learned his lesson, still bullying you with his group of cronies, still calling you those mean, awful names.

As you clambered onto the duelling platform, his stomach had twisted anxiously, frightened that Hoon would use this chance to cause some actual harm to you. You had merely taken your stance, wand an effortless extension of your arm.

Hoon had sneered that ugly grin of his, and you met it, cheek dimpling. Then, the professor had called the start, and it was over in an instant.

With a flourish of your wrist, you called out a quick succession of charms in that calm, even voice of yours, “Expelliarmus, Levioso, Depulso.” Within seconds, Hoon had been disarmed, lifted, and then shoved backwards and off of the platform, crashing and landing onto the stone floor. He had bemoaned and complained that you’d gotten a false start, but the professor was already calling the match.

You, however, seemed not to notice that the duel was over, shoulders a taut line, wand still readied. Your smile no longer curled at your mouth, lips instead twitching with the beginnings of another charm. Diffin–

Mingyu leapt up to the platform, grabbing you by the elbow and tugging you back. “Hey,” he murmured, pressing his face into your view until the awareness returned and cleared your gaze. “You won. It’s over.”

You let yourself be pulled down from the platform, the easy confidence that you wore during the duel instantly vanishing and the usual tension returning to your body. Mingyu hadn’t said anything more and neither of you spoke about the class ever again, but both had understood exactly what the moment could have led to.

It doesn’t make Mingyu think any worse of you; he doesn’t think that much in the world could. He doesn’t equate what happened to be the streak of evil that everyone seems to associate Slytherin House with. His parents had always told him that there are awful people in Slytherin, yes, but there are bullies in Hufflepuff, too. It does, however, make his heart ache at the thought that you had only been lashing out in defense, as a wounded wild animal might when backed into a corner.

Fourth. You’re not one for Quidditch or anything sporty, but he always seems to spot you in the bleachers during matches.

It’s easy to find you, especially from the air, since you’re always sitting with Wonwoo, Seungkwan, and Junhui, down on land where you’re keen on being. You hadn’t taken to a broomstick ever since the mandatory Flying lessons in first year, claiming a deathly fear of heights. Mingyu himself suffers from the same affliction, but oddly enough, he finds that flying is the one time he doesn’t mind the height, never mind the fact that he would never be able to give Quidditch up.

The mingling of red and green and blue and yellow heartens Mingyu as he soars overhead. His group is what all of Hogwarts should be like, and it makes him smile. Head fuzzy with the thought, he barely registers the Quaffle sailing past his head and yelps, dipping sharply to dive for it.

From behind, Seokmin hollers, “You’re distracted, Kim Mingyu!”

Quaffle safely tucked into his elbow, Mingyu comes up and levels his broomstick off, sneaking a glance over to Seungcheol, their Keeper and Captain, who hasn’t seemed to notice the blunder. “Keep your voice down,” he hisses at his friend, tossing the ball back over.

Seokmin chortles and easily receives it. “Stop looking for your girlfriend during practices, then. You know what Seungcheol always says, the habits you make in practice show up during the real thing.”

“Girlfriend?” Chan settles nearby in the midst of zipping by. His head tilts curiously, lips quirking up already.

Mingyu groans. His friends have always been too nosy for his liking. “She’s not my girlfriend. We’ve been great friends since first year.”

“So have we, but I don’t see you ogling me every chance you get.”

He pretends that he doesn’t hear Seokmin’s quip, craning his neck down to glance back at his friends. There’s a green and blue beanie leaned into each other; no doubt you and Wonwoo are huddled against the cold, poring over another book together. The thought of that makes his stomach hurt, and he briefly wonders if he should feign sickness and return to his friends on the field below.

Chan has inched closer, following his line of vision. “Oh, you mean Sparky?” The younger Seeker’s gaze lingers for a moment on you.

Mingyu’s stomach warms at the sound of the nickname that he’s given you, endlessly pleased that his friends have picked it up.

It’s a little dumb, the way it came to be. Back in third year, you’d shown him a children's picture book that you brought with you from the Muggle world. It had been your favorite growing up, you’d explained patiently, as he flipped through the pages that depicted a tiny but determined brown puppy named Sparky who ventured through an unexplored alien world.

Then, during the next Charms class, you had nearly fallen asleep at your desk, as a result of staying up for a particularly difficult Arithmancy exam. When the Charms Master had abruptly called on you to demonstrate, you had shot to your feet and conjured up an excitable Lumos out of your fluster, leading to a few stray sparks spilling from your wand tip. The professor had nodded approvingly, commenting on your fiery interpretation of the spell, but Mingyu had spied the tips of your ears burning as you slowly sank back into your seat.

“Nice one, Sparky,” he’d said, watching as your ears flared redder.

The memory makes him smile again. It’s dumb, the origins of it, but it works, he thinks. He likes brown puppies, since it reminds him of his grandmother’s old pet, and he likes you. You may be reserved and unruffled most of the time, but he sees the sparks fly from you every so often. When you’re raising your hand in class to succinctly debate a classmate’s point (often a fellow Slytherin’s) and prove them wrong. When you rush past him at the end of Potions class with a quick greeting to make it to Arithmancy because you’ve taken up two more electives than is required.

“Look at this goof grinning like a fool again,” Seokmin groans, leaning back to toss the Quaffle at passing teammate when Seungcheol blows the whistle to signal the end of practice. “If we lose the Cup this year because of your little crush, I’m gonna go and tell Sparky myself.”

They make their descent back towards the pitch, as Mingyu hisses, “You wouldn’t.”

The Beater merely shrugs, “I would.”

Lastly, Mingyu might kind of be in love with you. This, by far, is the trickiest on his list.

He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to call it that quite yet.

You really are a wonderful friend of his, one of his closest friends at Hogwarts. That’s how it started, but somewhere along the years, the lines might have gotten blurred. Honestly, Mingyu thinks that it’s only natural to treat your best friends with kindness and generosity. He thinks that it’s normal to want to learn about the world that you come from, to better understand who you are as a person.

Seokmin thinks that it’s not normal for friends to take Muggle Studies as an elective to achieve that.

Mingyu thinks that it’s normal to give you little gifts of the things that he knows that you like and need.

Seungcheol thinks that it’s not normal to bring back strawberry pies that his father baked and gloves that his mother knit for you from home after Christmas break.

“Mingyu, how are you doing on your Muggle Studies paper?”

He glances up at the sound of your voice, violently pulled from his thoughts and back to the library, where you and he have been laboring away at homework for hours. His cheeks prickle hot as if he’s been caught red handed, and he has to take a moment to convince himself that he hasn’t been thinking out loud, that you have no clue what’s been running inside of his head, that you can’t hear the rapid thudding of his heart against his chest.

“Huh?” He says dumbly, before glancing down at the stack of his nearly completed assignment. The top of his first page reads The Trolley Problem: A Consideration in Muggle Ethics. “Umm, almost done, I think.”

“I’ll take a look.”

You’re already tugging his paper from his hands, pushing away your own homework assignments to properly place it before you.

Mingyu watches carefully as your brow furrows in concentration and your eyes jump from word to word. He can’t pull his gaze away from you, focusing on every movement, every habit of yours as you read through his essay. He loves the way that your mouth twists this way and that as you think, the way you fork a bite of strawberry pie without even looking away from the parchment, the way you twirl a quill in your left hand.

“Mm,” you nod and set the papers down, “It’s well written, and you’ve certainly done the research. Just need a conclusion, right?”

He flushes, pleased from the compliments. “Yeah, I’m just having a bit of trouble coming up with one.”

Your forehead creases. “Okay, what are you struggling with?”

“It’s just–” Mingyu frowns, grasping for the right words. Taking this class has reframed his thinking in a way. He finds himself pausing a lot more often before he speaks on Muggle topics, pondering whether it could come off as offensive or ignorant to you, especially. “Well, I have trouble envisioning this as a dilemma at all, when a simple Levitating Charm could solve it.”

His nerves melt away a bit when you smile. You smile, but there’s a strain to your eyes when you knead at them with a knuckle.

“Right,” you say, amused. “Don’t worry, Muggles haven’t quite figured this one out either. But there’s also a number of ways you can set this problem up, so maybe we can play around with it to help you understand better?”

Mingyu eyes the stack of textbooks beside you that you’re neglecting to help him. Astutely, you pick up his reservation and shrug it off, “I desperately need a break from History of Magic. I’m going to lose my mind if I have to recall one more Minister of Magic in order of ‘Most Renovations Made to their Office’. Please.”

How could he ever deny?

“Okay, Sparks,” he nods and leans in closer to listen attentively, “Have at it.”

“Think of it like this.” You pull a blank sheet of paper and begin scratching lines of ink onto it. When a rough sketch of the trolly problem has been created, you draw stick figures onto the track. “Muggles can’t use magic, so it’s life or death for them, right? The lever is in your hands; you’re playing God in their lives.”

Mingyu balks at the idea of it. You never mince your words, so the unrestrained explanation does help drive the point in a little better than his professor had. “And it’s either I let the trolley run over the group of people, or I save them by making it so that one person dies.”

“Right. Exactly. In any sane person’s mind, you’d pull the lever and sacrifice one person for the sake of five others.” You draw an X over the singular stick figure and scribble a happy face onto the group of five. “So where does the dilemma come in?”

He contemplates the question. “It’d be blood on my hands. I’d be purposefully choosing to let the one person die, rather than being complicit into letting the train continue on and killing the group.”

You hum in approval. “But it’d be one life over five. The greater good and all that. Now, what if the one person was a child, while the group was elderly? The child has barely been given a chance to live, while the elderly have achieved long, somewhat fulfilled lives. Or what if the one person tied to the other side of the tracks wasn’t a stranger? What if it was a friend or a relative? How does the 'one versus many' question change then?”

Mingyu squirms in his seat. “That would never happen,” he insists, squeamish at even imagining all such scenarios. “No wizard or witch in my life would find themselves in this dumb situation.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Okay, fine. Let’s say that we’re all home for the summer. I get to King’s Cross, and instead of getting onto Nine and Three-Quarters, silly ol’ Muggle-born me, I make the wrong right turn and find myself tied to the tracks. Somehow, you’re there at the lever, and it’s either me or five strangers. Choose.”

He fully shivers. “Saving you, of course.” Mingyu pauses and then frowns, “Are the five people Muggles? Am I allowed to use magic?”

Delighted, you laugh, and he wishes he could bottle it up in a vial like Felix Felicis. He thinks it would glitter gold, just the same.

“No, Gyu, you can’t use magic. And yes, they’re Muggles.”

“Still you.”

“Alright, now what if those five people were your Quidditch teammates?”

“You.”

Your eyes light up in surprise. “Me over Seokmin, Seungcheol, and Chan? You’d let them die?”

Mingyu clicks his tongue, pretending not to notice the way that his face heats a bit at your genuine wonder. “If they’re stupid enough to get into this predicament, maybe they’d deserve it.”

You huff out a quiet chuckle before handing his papers back over. “Does that help you come to a conclusion?”

Mingyu nods firmly. He notices that there’s been a dollop of strawberry pie filling on the corner of your lips all this time, and without even thinking, he leans over the desk and thumbs it off of your mouth.

“You would never be stupid enough to find yourself tied to the train tracks, though.” He assures, more to himself than to you.

You blink owlishly at him and then rub at your eyes again. You try to hide your face behind your palms, but he can see the pink flush through the spaces between your fingers.

Yeah, he supposes he can call it love.

"bonus":

hijacking my own post to yap about hogwarts!au svt :> i know they/dokyeom sorted themselves into houses already, but this is how i think they'd be sorted and if/what positions they'd play in quidditch:

gryffindor: seungcheol (keeper), junhui, mingyu (chaser), seokmin (beater), chan (seeker)

slytherin: jeonghan (beater), jihoon, soonyoung

ravenclaw: wonwoo, minghao, hansol

hufflepuff: joshua, seungkwan (chaser)

hehehehehe pls chat with me more if you have thoughts i could go on and on about this

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gyuldaengie97 · 3 days ago

Text

⋆.˚ 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊, 𝒄.𝒔𝒄 & 𝒌.𝒎𝒈

tonight tonight, part i

a/n: this is a non-linear story, it moves throughout the past and present, and it is told from all three main povs - each character has a different color

pairing: choi seungcheol / f!reader / kim mingyu

summary: y/n has two longstanding crushes, but after having her soulmate fortune told, she starts to wonder if they’re more than crushes, even if they are all three alphas.

worse is realizing that her crushes may have crushes on one another, even when one professes to hate the other over something that happened when they were younger.

𓂃۶ৎ

or the time alpha y/n is sure that alpha seungcheol and alpha mingyu are her mates (and maybe each other’s), but how can they heal old wounds and form new bounds?

word count: 3.2k

genre / trigger warnings: omegaverse (a/b/o), nontraditional omegaverse, alpha!seungcheol, alpha!mingyu, alpha!reader, soulmate au, red string of fate au, soulmate fortunes, more than one soulmate, poly relationship (yes, that means m/f/m - they all are in love with one another - if that makes you uncomfy, don’t read), college au, best friend au, slow burn, angst, smut (called out more in chapters where it happens), soulmate identifying marks

rating: 18+, mdni, explicit

warnings below cut

warnings for chapter: anxiety, implied depression, omegaverse (a/b/o), nontraditional omegaverse, implied poly relationship

notes on omegaverse (a/b/o): omegaverse is a vast au that can be written in many different ways - i don't like and don't write traditional omegaverse - scents are vibes, mates aren't determined by alphas go with omegas...imo that gets dull

𓂃۶ৎ 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒐 - 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒚𝒖

It was one of those days where it was sunny, but rain was clearly moving in. The air was humid and thick. Mingyu felt like he barely made it through practice - he was wheezing by the end, elated that it was over. Despite everything, he was the first one in the locker room, showering as quickly as he could and throwing on clean clothes over his still-wet skin.

He biked home, ignoring a few stop signs in his neighborhood in his rush. But he wanted to be in his bedroom with his door locked, so he could finally read the little note that had been burning a hole in his pocket since fourth period.

He hadn’t expected a quick response to his own note. Actually, he always assumed that he would say something wrong and would languish for days, certain that there would never be another note from the anonymous person. But then there would be one, dropping from his locker. Little papery slips of happiness.

He received the first note months ago, during fall semester. It had been short and Mingyu hadn’t even known how to respond. He had read it over and over again - it was still hidden in his desk, taped behind a drawer, along with many others.

“Mingyu, I like the cute look on your face when you’re looking for books in the library…”

It was a short opening gambit. But it still made Mingyu curious. Mainly because he didn’t accept whenever someone asked him out. He didn’t like the idea of accepting just any offer. He wanted to meet someone special, who actually liked him for himself.

If he were being truthful, he wanted to meet his mate, but he would never admit that to anyone - it was easier to say he was “discerning” rather than admit he was romantic and wanted to find a ‘true’ mate instead of finding someone who was just ‘okay’.

And something about the letters, notes, whatever they were - they made him feel special. They made him feel noticed. They definitely felt romantic and sweet and made his stomach flutter. Mingyu liked to think that whoever wrote them actually had feelings for him.

And now sitting in the floor of his room, he ripped into a new one. A slight trepidation bubbled in his stomach because he could also imagine that his notes were actually a mean prank. He had worried about that for some time.

It was short like always…it wasn’t what he expected - it was just a phone number.

Mingyu swallowed heavily, wondering what he was meant to do. It had taken enough thinking to figure out how to tape a note just perfectly inside his locker so that he could respond to his anonymous writer. But the idea of texting gave him pause. It felt very permanent.

He chewed his lip gently, thinking of all the things that could go wrong for him. He didn’t know who the other person was, but they knew him. They went to the same school, but for all he knew it was a teacher or something. He shook his head at the idea - he would die if it were a teacher leaving him so many complements when his notes were mainly a way for him to share his worries. He wasn’t sure what to do.

He didn’t text the number. Instead, he stuck it inside the book he was reading as his bookmark and vowed to think about it, at least for the day.

𓂃۶ৎ 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 - 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒚𝒖

Mingyu was desperate for help.

There were only two exams in his physics course, and he was doing really poorly on all the problem sets so far. Which was why he was combing the library - he was certain this was where he would find him. He had been looking for the class’ assigned TA for the past two days and had zero luck in finding him.

Mingyu knew that even if Choi Seungcheol wasn’t a normal TA - he was just someone majoring in the subject who was well ranked - he was literally meant to help with problem sets. It was his entire job. Even if he didn’t like Mingyu - he still had to help.

A friend had texted Mingyu that they saw Seungcheol on the north campus library’s fifth floor. Mingyu had rushed over from class and was now going through every possible spot on the fifth floor. He was determined to find Seungcheol.

He was breathing heavily when he finally found him - sitting in a corner seat, well hidden. Mingyu rolled his eyes at the behavior because Seungcheol was meant to be accessible. But then again, he knew Seungcheol, and he knew he was a royal asshole, born and bred.

They had been at school together before uni. Mingyu had experienced firsthand the kind of alpha he was. The exact kind who didn’t take his job seriously and didn’t care about anyone besides himself.

No matter because Mingyu was feeling shameless and in the mood to make a scene.

𓂃۶ৎ 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 - 𝑺𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒐𝒍

Seungcheol was working through some annoying assignment from an economics class he had taken on a whim. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the principles, it was more that he felt like the class grader didn’t like his economic philosophy.

He didn’t hear anyone behind him. He didn’t hear his name or a greeting - instead, he felt someone touch his shoulder, which caused him to whip around with wide eyes.

He popped his earbuds out quickly, even as he spoke, “What the fuck?” He hissed before realizing who had disturbed him.

Mingyu was staring down at him, an annoyed expression on his face. He didn’t even bother responding to Seungcheol’s question.

“I need help,” his voice was pure acid.

Seungcheol flushed slightly, “How can I help?” His throat was dry.

Mingyu’s gaze hardened somehow, “Physics - the physics problem sets - you’re meant to help, yes?” He spoke in a rapid-fire, clipped tone.

Seungcheol wanted to crawl under the desk he was seated at. He never wanted to talk to Mingyu - he could go his full life without talking to him ever again. He had glanced at the class roster when the semester started and prayed to the entire universe that Mingyu would never need help - he could pass or drop or anything, but Seungcheol hoped he wouldn’t have to talk to him.

He had dreaded this moment. Mingyu though, looked far too happy.

Seungcheol nodded, “Yeah, and I have hours,” he attempted to sound normal, unaffected.

Mingyu laughed, “Right, you do have set hours, but you apparently don’t show up for them - you’ve made me resort to a manhunt,” his voice had at least softened a bit.

Seungcheol had technically held his normal hours the day before, and the week before, but seeing Mingyu waiting for him, he had literally sat behind his desk and pretended he wasn’t there. He could handle a small reprimand from his advisor for missing some sessions - what he couldn’t handle was literally happening to him - Mingyu was happening to him.

He felt like he might black out. He knew Mingyu was talking to him and saying things, but his brain was beyond overwhelmed. Everything in his body was telling him to flee, but he was stuck.

He had the feeling that he was meant to say something - Mingyu was staring at him, waiting. Seungcheol’s mouth was dry, and he was sweating, his heart was pounding. When Mingyu pushed his shoulder again, he gave a soft yelp.

Mingyu stared at him, “Are you okay?” He almost sounded concerned.

Seungcheol managed to shake his head. He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay by any measure. He found himself blindly searching through his bag for his inhaler. He heard Mingyu’s offer to help, but Seungcheol was past that - he was genuinely panicking. He needed his inhaler now, full stop. He felt the plastic shape he was searching for and shook it furiously before squeezing it and breathing in the slightly bitter medicine.

Even though he could breathe again, he was still faced with Mingyu - who was now watching Seungcheol with his own worried look.

“Do you need to see a doctor or something?”

Seungcheol shook his head, “No, I’m fine,” he said in the least convincing voice.

Mingyu watched him for a few moments before finally sitting, “I don’t believe you, but whatever - why should I care,” he went on in his blasé tone, “will you help me with this problem set?”

Seungcheol nodded, glancing at the notebook Mingyu had dropped on the desktop. He pressed his lips into a line when he recognized the handwriting.

He hadn’t thought about it in a long time - the way Mingyu wrote certain letters. He flushed brilliantly as he tried to push all his thoughts back down deep inside his mind where they belonged. He really couldn’t deal with them resurfacing.

When Mingyu sat next to him, he recognized his scent immediately, the soft jasmine that was complimented by a note of orange. His scent, like everyone’s, was blocked down to something that roughly came across like a spritz of perfume. It didn’t make it any less memorable for Seungcheol.

Worse was that Mingyu’s scent made him shift uncomfortably because he immediately saw a mental image of the notes he kept in the back of one of his drawers at his parents’. He had never been able to get rid of them. He had thought about it, but he couldn’t. He could never get rid of all the little notes, all the very ‘Mingyu’ complaints that he had kept for so long.

He felt another nudge, “Seungcheol, you can leave if you need to - I didn’t mean to cause,” he heard the soft sigh, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Seungcheol shook his head and started going through the problems - he just needed to act like Mingyu was literally any other faceless student.

𓂃۶ৎ 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚 - 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒚𝒖

“So did you find him?” Y/n asked as she flipped idly through a magazine in Mingyu’s dorm. They shared a bathroom, and she regularly made her way into Mingyu’s room, usually because they were on a similar schedule, but Mingyu tended to be late without reminders.

“Yeah,” Mingyu responded.

Y/n paused her flipping, the lack of elaboration was odd for Mingyu, especially when he had been so set on finding Seungcheol earlier in the day. She had an idea of where Seungcheol might be studying, but she hadn’t immediately told Mingyu.

But Mingyu was still puzzling out what had even happened with Seungcheol. He had been shocked at what he could only guess was a panic attack. But that was too much - an alpha having a panic attack over what even, he wondered uncharitably to himself as he emptied his bag in search of a pencil.

Y/n watched her friend ignore every pencil on his desk while he searched for ‘the’ pencil. She knew Mingyu was particular, but this was like watching a new boss level being accessed…Mingyu versus his backpack. She shrugged. She didn’t really know the precise history between Mingyu and Seungcheol, just bits and pieces, but she knew enough to know that the Mingyu was exceedingly unhappy over it, even now…and had been unhappy for a long time. Y/n had wondered more and more recently if it was completely irreparable between them. She worried that it might be.

She and Mingyu had met at a camp for under-18s with ‘certain’ issues. Mingyu had liked Y/n immediately. For a place that was so drab and lifeless, and despite everything, she was full of life, even when Mingyu was down, she made things bearable. Y/n was maybe the only person Mingyu could never truly push away, no matter how he felt - she just seemed to stick. He had been glad when they were accepted to the same uni. And he had been relieved to know they could be suitemates, even if they were both alphas.

Y/n watched the battle for pencils become a battle with notebooks, she sighed, “Do you want to go for dinner with me?”

Mingyu glanced over at the mention of food - he was hungry. He stopped fumbling with his books and bag, “Yes, please - I’m starving,” he said simply.

Y/n left to walk downstairs while Mingyu got ready. He bundled up in a scarf that was too long and his black wool coat before meeting her in the lobby of their dorm.

She was sitting at the bottom of the huge, wooden staircase waiting. She was very blonde and cute - Mingyu had helped her bleach her hair this time - his long coat was a blue that made her skin seem luminescent. Mingyu wondered how the omega was still single, but he didn’t bother her about things like that.

Talking about those things, alpha and omega things, was something they used to do when they were younger, usually while hiding under a blanket so no one knew they were still awake, well past curfew. Telling one another all of their thoughts about mates and how once she had gone to a fortune teller to ask about her mate. It used to be a fun conversation.

Instead, he walked down the stairs past her, waiting for her to look up from her phone. Mingyu watched, knowing she was picking exactly where to eat, her face serious. Until she glanced up, and her face broke into a soft smile.

“Don’t just stand there, looming over me,” she complained softly, reaching out to grab Mingyu’s hand.

Mingyu sat and leaned on Y/n’s shoulder, watching her rapidly swiping through saved menus until she hit the one he was looking for. Mingyu nuzzled against her jacket. He loved that she was an alpha who usually smelled like a bundle of fresh roses - the bright green scent was something Mingyu always adored. He enjoyed the way it gained notes of tea leaves and moss when she wasn’t wearing blocks. She was maybe Mingyu’s favorite scent - almost his favorite scent, but he didn’t want to think about that.

The wind was horrendous as they left their dorm. They shivered their way to a tapas place before deciding they were still hungry and getting a ride-share to an oyster bar that weirdly had some of the best desserts.

It was Mingyu’s current favorite. He had the feeling that she was trying to improve his mood, especially when she didn’t seem to care how many drinks they ordered, or how many flavors of macarons Mingyu picked from the case. They kept conversation to a minimum - no reason to scare anyone with their overly dark jokes. Which really left Mingyu to focus on his small pile of cookies and to ruminate on whatever had happened with Seungcheol.

It had surprised him that Seungcheol had looked properly freaked out over their meeting. He smiled softly at the idea that he could bother Seungcheol that much by just asking for help. His mind was certainly in a petty place when he decided he would never miss Seungcheol’s office hours. He did his best to blunt his memories of Seungcheol’s scent, the way it used to linger on paper, grassy like matcha. He pursed his lips, trying to focus on Y/n, who was watching him - a wistful expression on her face.

It had been freezing when they left, but it had started to sleet on their way back to campus. Mingyu led the way back to their dorm from where they had been dropped off, while Y/n was giggling because it had started to snow.

She pulled Mingyu’s hand, “Seriously, at least acknowledge it’s amazing,” her voice insistent.

Mingyu nodded, “Yeah, it’s great until we get hypothermia,” he grimaced - that was a too-real comment for them.

She groaned, “Just find the positivity Kim Mingyu,” she chided in a sing-song voice.

Mingyu groaned at the reminder of their times at camp, shaking his head, he pulled Y/n’s hand, “Come on,” he whined, “it’s cold,” he tried to be reasonable.

She sighed and walked close, throwing her arms around Mingyu’s shoulders - not an uncommon thing, he guessed he was dragging her back. It was the sudden feeling of amazingly warm lips against his own that made Mingyu stop.

For a brief moment, he considered pulling away, but he couldn’t come up with a reason to break the kiss - he liked Y/n, he liked her scent, and how sweet she was - he cut himself off before his brain mentally went through ticking a list of things he liked, loved even, about her. He leaned into the kiss, enjoying that she tasted a bit like peppermint.

He didn’t mind the small snowflakes that landed and melted against his skin. It was hearing a small laugh that broke the moment - some girls walking back and giggling. Mingyu glanced at them and then back to Y/n.

“Let’s go back?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

She nodded, looking slightly embarrassed, “Yeah.”

Mingyu waited for her to apologize or anything that indicated it was a mistake. That’s what would normally happen - the few times they had kissed or had done more. Those fervent moments were always followed by apologies - the heat between them quickly extinguished.

But nothing was said as they walked, or even when they went into their rooms.

Mingyu undressed, listening carefully. He waited for any sign of Y/n. He brushed his teeth, glancing every few moments at her door. He could have knocked, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to break whatever little spell was playing out between them.

He climbed into bed and tried to figure out the best way to get warm despite his drafty room.

He was almost asleep when he heard the small creaking of footsteps in his room, he glanced towards the bathroom and saw her there. It was odd to see her waiting when she normally rushed into everything.

Mingyu watched her lean against the door frame, “Are you mad at me?”

Mingyu shook his head, “No,” he whispered.

She was still for a moment, “I always want to - with you, but I don’t know how you’ll feel - or if there’s still someone else,” her voice trailed off.

Mingyu tried to think of when there was ever really someone else and wasn’t sure. He decided it didn’t matter.

He held out a hand and watched her cover the short distance between the bathroom and his bed. She was quickly under the covers, and Mingyu was glad for the warmth that came along with the other alpha.

He was happy to wrap himself around her. They were quiet for a few moments. Mingyu suddenly remembered, “I thought you were the one who’s supposed to have two mates?” He asked softly, jokingly.

She sighed, “That’s what the fortune teller told me, but then again, how does that work when one makes the other apoplectic and one gets asthmatic when you mention the other one?” She asked a serious note in her voice.

For a moment Mingyu’s drunken mind pondered what had just been said - if he included himself - he suddenly groaned, “Him?” He nudged her arm, “Seriously, him?” His whisper was urgent.

He was incredulous, but she was snoring softly. Mingyu stared at the ceiling for a few minutes - his mind whirring, then petering out in favor of a mellow sleep. His still hazy mind decided that he would deal with Seungcheol the next day.

a/n: anyway, part i hehe ^^ look for more updates - you can leave a comment if you want to be tagged in this fic

♡ kat

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seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

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gyuldaengie97 · 5 days ago

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𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒓

pairing: kim mingyu / f!reader / choi seungcheol

summary: y/n thought she was in a normal, healthy relationship with another human until mingyu was forced to turn y/n into a vampire to save her life.

but when y/n is still upset about all of mingyu's lies, she leaves to find her own way and stumbles into vampire seungcheol along the way.

y/n is left to chose between a new love and maybe her true love.

teaser word count: 2.4k [full fic approx. 30k]

genre: vampire au, soulmate au, crack - when soonyoung pretends to be a doctor! (i said crack), smut, kind of found family

rating: 18+, mdni, explicit

warnings below cut

warnings: grief, depression, anxiety, gentle kidnapping, blood, gore, fake death, real death (mc has to die to be turned - sorry - just vampire things), sex, drugs, alcohol, blood consumption (vampires, hello)

Y/n was depressed. Which everyone kept saying was natural because who wouldn’t be after they had watched their boyfriend be buried - so they were understanding.

But the problem was Mingyu was (had been) so much more than just Y/n’s boyfriend. They had been dating for two years - they had plans to run away together and live together and make their own life TOGETHER. No one understood what Mingyu had actually meant to Y/n.

No one understood that her inner grief was tenfold compared to what she let them see.

She stayed cooped up inside her apartment wearing Mingyu’s hoodies, hoping that his scent would linger until she died - which, according to Jeonghan, wouldn’t be that long if she didn’t stop isolating herself so thoroughly.

And maybe Jeonghan had a point, since she only shifted from her computer to her couch when she was practically falling asleep at her keyboard. She hadn’t gone to class since it happened, or left her apartment for that matter, excluding the funeral.

Y/n refused to accept what had happened. She didn’t like talking about Mingyu in the past tense. She didn’t think about Mingyu in the past tense. To her, it seemed like maybe Mingyu was just somewhere that, if she tried hard enough, she could reach, and they could be together again.

She had only gone to the funeral because her friends (their friends, she supposed) had dragged her there. She had stared straight ahead - her head swimming with thoughts of how she could fix all of what was happening. She had only paid her respects because she felt forced to, but to her, there had to be a solution - she was determined that Mingyu didn’t have to stay this way.

She did not mention this to anyone else.

She did not explain that she had been digging into odd-looking message boards - ones where people claimed to have successfully reunited with their loved ones. Mostly because all of these seemed to center around things like Ouija boards and ghosts. Y/n had higher hopes than some knocking on a table. She wanted Mingyu back.

According to one OP’s review, Dr. Kwon had been able to bring life back to the OP’s brother-in-law in under two sessions.

Another one read, “Dr. Kwon has medical expertise beyond any ‘regular’ doctor - he truly views his patients holistically.”

And one enthusiastic reviewer reported that “Dr. Kwon saved my life - everyone else was resigned to my quote-unquote ‘death’ but not Dr. Kwon - he never gave up and here I am typing this review!”

It wasn’t so much the reviews that got Y/n’s attention - for all she knew those were from bots - it was the videos showing the actual process. She had looped it trying to figure out if it was fake.

But everything she saw, from digging up the body to injecting it with something pink from a beaker that caused the person to rouse like they had woken up from a nice, long nap, seemed to check out in her exhausted mind.

And somehow it only cost $499.99 plus gas and snacks, with a preference for gummy candies and chips.

Y/n watched the other videos as well - there was an interview where Dr. Kwon explained that the ‘life-challenged’ were just in need of a hard ‘reboot’ of their systems and that all were just waiting to be reunited with their lives.

Dr. Kwon did note that in some cases his patients may have elected to move on fully, but that in 98% of cases, the patients were now restored with their normal energy levels and “everything.”

Y/n watched the videos with tired eyes while she slurped noodles, barely tasting them as they wiggled down her throat and satisfied her grumbling stomach. The more she saw Dr. Kwon, with his glasses and white coat, the more confident she was that it was worth the money. So after a week of not sleeping and watching videos, she finally sent a message to the instagram account provided and waited for a response.

Waiting really meant that she passed out on her couch - it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable slumber, but Y/n was no longer in a position to argue with her body and its needs, she yielded to sheer exhaustion.

But apparently during the week that she had been researching Dr. Kwon and his methods, she had ignored Jeonghan a bit too much. Since she was suddenly being woken up from a very restful faceplant by a loud knocking on her door.

She slowly rolled off the couch, landing with a small thud and groaning, swearing that Jeonghan knew her door’s passcode. She stayed on the floor for a bit longer, her eyes not wanting to fully open, her thick eyelashes feeling almost tangled together, but Jeonghan was insistent and LOUD. Y/n roused herself forcefully and went to fling the door open.

Jeonghan, pale and slender and dressed to kill in his all-black ensemble, lifted his oversized sunglasses to stare daggers at Y/n, “You look terrible,” he deadpanned with a smile that tugged the corners of his lips, “Can I come in already or do I have to stand on the doorstep like some sad person delivering food?” he demanded softly.

Y/n sighed, “Yeah, come in, I guess,” and let Jeonghan pass.

She wasn’t exactly thrilled to have Jeonghan there. Because with Jeonghan there, she was suddenly very aware that she hadn’t showered in a few days and was unquestionably gross.

She was also uncomfortably aware of every single greasy hair on her head because she was sure that Jeonghan was examining them as well. She felt like a child who had been left to their own devices compared to Jeonghan whom she had never seen with a hair out of place.

Jeonghan poked around Y/n’s desk, examining the haphazardly stacked dirty dishes with a slender finger that seemed to be declaring everything as ‘ick,’ “How have you been?” his voice was kinder than she expected.

She blushed, “Fine,” she didn’t want to say that she had definitely spent $500 on something that was maybe a grift.

Jeonghan nodded, “You seem like you’re still missing him,” Jeonghan seemed to be talking to himself more than to Y/n.

She shrugged, “No, I – uhh, I’m fine now,” she stammered - even if Dr. Kwon was a grifter, she would give it a chance.

What was the worst case anyway - she dug up a dead body, she wondered to herself if that was the worst part. She had no idea what a body would look like after being buried for a week or so, actually she wasn’t sure how long it had been anymore, but not so long, she was fairly certain. But maybe it was more like a month, but only if she actually gave it some thought and counted the days.

She barely noticed that Jeonghan was suddenly in front of her until Jeonghan touched her cheek, “Who is Dr. Kwon?” he asked gently.

She shrugged, certain she hadn’t mentioned the name aloud, or at all, and avoided eye contact when she responded, “I don’t know,” she sounded almost confident.

And Jeonghan pinched her cheek lightly and sighed, “It’s funny when you lie to me and think I don’t know,” he sighed again, this time it was more pronounced and dramatic, “Oh well, I guess we will just have to meet the doctor together,” he announced and flopped onto the sofa. He gazed at her, daring her to contradict what he had just declared.

She bit her lip gently and shrugged, “If you say so,” she wasn’t in the mood for Jeonghan’s games, “I’m going to shower,” she muttered. She could have sworn she heard a small ‘thank you’ from Jeonghan but wasn’t sure and wasn’t going to check either.

Y/n was happy to shower - she hadn’t realized how grimy she had felt until she wasn’t. And now she could lie in her bed and bury her face in the pillow Mingyu had once used while she stared at her dms waiting for a response.

She could hear low sounds from the tv - she had just assumed that Jeonghan was staying by the way he had parked himself on the sofa. There was something comforting about it though. She really had been very alone the last however many days or weeks. She nuzzled into the pillow that still held Mingyu’s balsamy scent and was quickly asleep.

── .✦

Y/n had been used to her weird dreams since she was young - they were usually pleasant, maybe a bit too real, but since she had met Mingyu whenever she woke up from one there was someone there to cuddle her and assure her that she was okay.

Now she sat up, rubbing her face, and remembered she was alone again - there was no one to tell her that the weird dream about Mingyu floating in the air above her with hungry red eyes was fake.

She could have cried, but then Jeonghan would have probably heard her and had some snarky comment to make. She fell back onto the bed and chewed her lip. She stayed motionless, letting the sadness wash over her and then recede like the tide. She hated that even in her dreams Mingyu had become something macabre.

Even as her feelings ebbed, she felt her phone vibrate with some new notification. She blinked and checked to see that it was an instagram notification. She was quick to unlock her phone and read the message from Dr. Kwon replying that he thought Y/n’s case was one that warranted review and suggested that they meet that night.

She responded without hesitation, wanting to be sure that she met Dr. Kwon as soon as possible. She waited excitedly for confirmation. And she grinned stupidly when it came through - a message providing an address for a small tea shop and a request for payment only once she was satisfied with the results of the procedure. Y/n chewed her lower lip softly - if this were a grift, at least it wasn’t an obvious one, she supposed.

She got up and dressed in something she didn’t mind going out in. And walking out of her room, she was feeling a bit excited for once since everything had changed - she had almost forgotten Jeonghan completely until he piped up, “Heading out, Y/n?”

Y/n’s head spun to look at Jeonghan, who was lounging on the sofa with some baking show playing in the background – his eyes were closed, giving the impression he was napping.

She stared for a moment, her blood feeling a bit icy in her veins because it reminded her of the way Mingyu always seemed to know when she got out of bed (or into it) - he would seem fast asleep, but he was also keenly attuned to any little movement from Y/n. She wasn’t sure why it would make her uncomfortable now - probably because it was coming from Jeonghan and not Mingyu, she guessed. She knew Mingyu cared, at least.

Jeonghan sighed and stood up, stretching nonchalantly, “I assume we are going to see the mysterious Dr. Kwon?” he almost sounded chipper, which was a strange development.

Y/n shrugged off the feeling, “Uh, I’m just going out,” she tried.

Jeonghan tutted, “You aren’t getting rid of me so easily, Y/n, I’m an old hand at all of this - you just need to accept that certain things come along with dating Kim Mingyu,” he had already rounded the sofa and was next to Y/n, looping his arm through hers and steering them towards the door.

It was a strange turn of phrase that Y/n played over in her mind as they sat in the back of a taxi ‘certain things come along with dating Kim Mingyu,’ but what did that mean, she wondered, and more to the point why would Jeonghan say it to her - it was another of those annoying things that somehow reminded her of Mingyu’s mannerisms but was also starkly different.

Mingyu was good at anticipating certain things - things that Y/n generally had to blatantly ask for from past partners, Mingyu always seemed to just understand. But that understanding felt natural between them, innate even.

From Jeonghan, it made Y/n’s skin crawl and she attempted to sit as far away from the other as she could in a cramped taxi. Especially since Jeonghan’s comment had to do with her very dead boyfriend.

Y/n stared out the cab’s window, watching the slow drizzle of rain and fog commingle as they wound their way to the ancient tea shop. It was in an older part of the city. To her, it certainly had the vibes of a place you would meet someone who was capable of reanimating the dead.

Jeonghan took care of the cab while she went into the shop. There was only one table that was occupied. Y/n immediately recognized the man from Youtube - it was really him, Dr. Kwon Soonyoung.

He glanced up and smiled warmly, “You must be Y/n,” his voice was welcoming, as he stood from his seat and gestured for her to join him.

She sat and, again, found herself being startled by Jeonghan’s sudden appearance at her side. It was a bit annoying to feel like she had a chaperone. Still, she wanted to know what Dr. Kwon had to say.

She accepted tea from the pot - which, in hind sight, was maybe her worst decision. Because before they could really even talk, she had started to feel groggy. Her vision swam a bit, and her head began to ache horribly.

Her vision blurred at the edges. And soon, she realized she was being taken by Jeonghan and Dr. Kwon, who Jeonghan seemed to know fairly well, since he kept calling him ‘Soonie’, out the back of the shop.

She tried to cry for help but there was no sound, nor did there seem to be anyone to even hear her. She noticed as they carried her out how decrepit the building looked - it looked on the verge of being condemned more than anything. How had it seemed so warm and inviting at first, she wondered in her haze.

She had no idea where they were taking her, but they put her in the back of a large black car. The last thing she saw was Jeonghan, leaning over her to buckle her in and pat her head, “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you, even if Soonyoung has crackpot ideas,” he smiled in a way that only made Y/n whimper.

this should be fun and messy ^^ also don't come at me about tags - this is a teaser for a fic that meets fluff, smut, and angst - but the beginning is def crack

@gyupappi - just a teaser, but vampire mingyu needs more than a one shot (and vampire cheol...and hosh as a grift doc on insta hehehe) kissesss

♡ kat

♡ my [master list] if you want to read more

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts or for this fic, go [here] - or just follow

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gyuldaengie97 · 7 days ago

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The barista who stole his heart | K. Mingyu

TROPE: Idol x Non-Fan | Barista AU | Mingyu Falls First | Found Family | Heavy Insecurity to Full Acceptance | Protective Love WARNINGS: Mentions of past toxic relationships | body shaming | Public scrutiny | | mild social media hate | Lots of fluffy affection | soft romance | Mingyu being the ultimate green flag™ | NO PROOF READING WAS DONE WORDCOUNT: 5051 words {Reading time: 18mins} SYNOPSIS: You never expected a regular customer at your café to be a famous idol—especially not one as kind and ridiculously handsome as Kim Mingyu. What started as casual interactions turned into lingering glances, playful flirting, and a slow, inevitable fall. But when your past insecurities resurface and public attention turns critical, Mingyu makes one thing clear: he’s not going anywhere. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one-shot is for anyone who’s ever doubted their worth because of society’s beauty standards. You are enough. You are beautiful. And if Mingyu were for us girlies, he would absolutely worship you. Enjoy this soft love story!

The café, a cozy haven nestled amidst the urban sprawl near the broadcasting station, hummed with a quiet, almost reverent energy. Its walls, painted in warm, inviting hues of cream and ochre, absorbed the city's relentless clamor, replacing it with the gentle whir of the espresso machine and the comforting aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. You, a silent guardian of this tranquil space, moved with a practiced grace, your movements fluid and efficient as you prepared orders. The late shift was your sanctuary, a time when the world outside faded into a distant murmur, allowing you to immerse yourself in the simple rhythm of your work.

The evening was drawing to a close, the last few stragglers trickling out into the cool night air, when the bell above the door chimed, announcing a late arrival. A figure stepped into the café, impossibly tall, his silhouette framed against the streetlights outside. He moved with a quiet weariness, his shoulders slumped, his steps measured. Yet, despite his exhaustion, there was an undeniable magnetism to his presence, a quiet intensity that filled the space.

As he approached the counter, you looked up, your gaze meeting his. His eyes, dark and deep, held a hint of fatigue, yet they sparkled with an inner warmth that caught you off guard. His face, sculpted with sharp angles and softened by a gentle curve to his lips, was undeniably handsome, a fact you acknowledged with a professional detachment.

"Americano, please," he requested, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that sent a subtle shiver down your spine. It was a voice that held a quiet authority, yet it was laced with a gentle politeness that was almost disarming. The way he looked at you, a quiet searching look, made you pause just a moment longer.

You nodded, maintaining your professional demeanor, your gaze unwavering. "Name?"

"Mingyu."

The name was simple, ordinary, yet it lingered in the air, a quiet echo in the stillness of the café. You scribbled it on the cup, your mind already moving to the next task, the familiar routine of grinding beans and steaming milk. A moment later, you placed the cup before him, the name scrawled on the side in your hurried handwriting: Minkoo.

He stared at the cup, a flicker of surprise, almost disbelief, crossing his features. He blinked, then looked back at you, a subtle question in his eyes. "It’s Mingyu."

"Mingyo?" you repeated, your brow furrowed slightly, as you tried to match the spoken word to the written one.

His jaw dropped, ever so slightly, a subtle disbelief etching on his usually composed face. He looked around the empty cafe, then back to you. “…She really doesn’t know me?” The thought was almost spoken aloud, a quiet, incredulous murmur that hung in the air.

For the first time in a long time, Kim Mingyu, the idol known for his charisma and widespread recognition, was caught completely off guard. He was accustomed to the whispers, the gasps, the immediate recognition that followed him like a shadow. He was used to the way people’s eyes widened when they saw him, the way their voices rose in excitement. But here, in this quiet café, under the soft glow of the overhead lights, he was just another customer, another name to be misspelled, another face in the crowd.

The lack of recognition was a strange, almost liberating experience. It was a novel sensation, a breath of fresh air in the midst of his carefully constructed public persona. He watched as you moved about the café, your movements unhurried, your focus unwavering, and he found himself intrigued. There was a quiet confidence in your demeanor, a self-assuredness that was both captivating and disarming.

He took his coffee, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, a silent question hanging in the air. As he turned to leave, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter, this simple misspelling, was the beginning of something unexpected, something that would disrupt the carefully orchestrated rhythm of his life.

The "Minkoo" incident, as Mingyu privately dubbed it, became a peculiar sort of lodestar, drawing him back to the café night after night. It wasn't just the coffee, though it was undeniably good; it was the quiet, almost surreal normalcy of the place, and most importantly, you. He found himself inexplicably drawn to your unpretentious demeanor, your calm efficiency, and the way you seemed utterly unfazed by his presence.

He started timing his visits, subtly adjusting his schedule to coincide with your shifts. He’d arrive just as the evening rush was dying down, the café bathed in the warm, golden glow of the setting sun. He'd sit at the counter, a quiet observer, watching you work your magic behind the espresso machine. He’d study the way your brow furrowed in concentration as you measured out coffee grounds, the gentle curve of your lips as you smiled at a customer, the soft sway of your hips as you moved around the small space.

His members, ever vigilant, noticed the pattern. "Look who it is, Mr. Americano," Seungkwan would tease, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Back for more of that… Minkoo special?"

"What? Their coffee is good!" Mingyu would protest, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He'd try to sound casual, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed his growing infatuation.

"So is every other café, but you don’t go to those, do you?" Hoshi would chime in, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You only go when she’s working."

Mingyu would ignore them, his gaze drifting towards the counter, where you were engaged in a lively conversation with a customer. He was captivated by your laughter, a warm, melodic sound that filled the café. He was fascinated by the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way your hand gestures punctuated your words, the way you seemed so effortlessly you.

He started trying to engage you in conversation, asking about the daily specials, commenting on the weather, even attempting a few clumsy jokes. He’d try to flirt, subtly, with lingering eye contact, playful touches on the counter as he paid, and compliments slipped into casual conversation. "You have really nice eyes," he'd say, his voice low and sincere.

You, however, remained blissfully unaware of his growing infatuation, attributing his attention to his naturally friendly demeanor. You’d laugh at his jokes, offer him a friendly smile, and engage in polite conversation, but you never seemed to see him as anything more than a regular customer.

The moment it truly hit him, the moment he realized he was falling, was a simple, unassuming exchange. He’d made a joke about his clumsiness, a self-deprecating remark about his tendency to trip over his own feet, a habit that often became a source of amusement for his members. "I swear, I’m a hazard to myself," he’d said, shaking his head with a rueful smile.

Without hesitation, you’d said, "Well, I think it’s kinda endearing."

The words were simple, but their impact was profound. For the first time, someone hadn’t teased him, hadn’t made light of his insecurities. They’d found it endearing, a quality to be cherished, a quirk that made him unique. The sincerity in your voice, the gentle warmth in your eyes, it was like a balm to his soul.

And in that moment, his heart wasn’t just beating; it was sprinting, a frantic rhythm that echoed in his ears. He felt a strange mix of exhilaration and vulnerability, a raw, unfiltered emotion that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wanted to know more about you, to unravel the mystery of your quiet confidence, to understand the depth of your kindness.

He wanted to erase the distance between idol and regular customer, to bridge the gap and see if there was something more, something real, something that could withstand the scrutiny of his public life. He wanted to be seen by you, not as Kim Mingyu the idol, but as just Mingyu, the man who found your simple kindness utterly captivating.

The café, usually a haven of quietude, was buzzing with an unusual energy that evening. A small group of young women, their faces flushed with excitement, had gathered near the counter, their eyes darting between you and a certain tall, handsome customer. You paid them little mind, focusing on the intricate latte art you were creating, the delicate swirls and patterns a testament to your practiced skill.

The illusion of anonymity, the comfortable bubble of normalcy that had enveloped Mingyu during his visits, shattered when one of the young women, her voice trembling with excitement, recognized him. Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as she whispered to her friends, "Oh my god, you’re Kim Mingyu!"

The name hung in the air, a sudden, sharp intrusion into the quiet atmosphere of the café. The other women gasped, their eyes widening, their whispers escalating into excited murmurs. You paused, your hand still hovering over the latte, your brow furrowed slightly. You looked up, your gaze shifting from the excited fans to Mingyu, who stood near the counter, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

"Wait… you’re Kim Mingyu? Like, the Mingyu?" you asked, your voice laced with a playful skepticism. You'd seen the name before, heard the excited chatter from some customers, but you'd never put two and two together. It was just another name to you.

Mingyu braced himself for the inevitable wave of excitement, the squeals, the requests for autographs, the sudden shift in your demeanor. He was accustomed to the instantaneous recognition, the way people’s eyes lit up when they realized who he was. He watched you, a silent observer, wondering how you would react.

Instead of the expected fanfare, you just smirked, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you assessed him. "Damn, if I knew you were famous, I would’ve charged you more."

The unexpected response caught him off guard. A breathy laugh escaped his lips, a mix of relief and amusement. He watched as you returned to your latte art, your movements unhurried, your focus unwavering. There was no starstruck awe, no fawning admiration, just a playful jab and a return to your work.

The fans, initially taken aback by your nonchalant reaction, erupted in a flurry of questions and requests for autographs. Mingyu, however, found himself drawn to your quiet composure, your lack of pretense. You treated him like any other customer, a regular who happened to be famous, and he found it strangely refreshing.

He lingered at the counter, watching as you interacted with the fans, your smile genuine, your demeanor polite but firm. You politely declined requests for photos, explaining that you were working, but you offered to sign a napkin for them.

As the fans finally departed, their excited chatter fading into the night, Mingyu turned to you, a curious smile playing on his lips. "You’re not… impressed?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful challenge.

You shrugged, your eyes focused on cleaning the espresso machine. "Impressed by what? You’re a customer. A regular customer, in fact. And one who gets his name spelled wrong, apparently." You gestured to a stray coffee cup, a faded "Minkoo" still visible on the rim.

Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Right. Minkoo."

The air between them shifted, a subtle change in the dynamic. The anonymity was gone, the illusion shattered, but something new had taken its place. There was a spark of curiosity, a flicker of intrigue, a sense that this unexpected revelation was just the beginning of something more. He was no longer just a customer, and you were no longer just a barista. They were two people, their worlds colliding in the quiet intimacy of a late-night café, and the possibilities were endless.

As the days turned into weeks, a comfortable familiarity settled between you and Mingyu. The initial awkwardness of his revelation faded, replaced by a quiet intimacy that thrived in the late-night hours of the café. He’d linger after his orders, engaging in conversations that stretched into the quiet hours of closing, sharing stories and laughter that filled the empty space.

Yet, despite the growing closeness, Mingyu couldn’t ignore the subtle but persistent habit that lingered beneath your easygoing demeanor: the way you deflected every compliment, every word of praise, as if they were poisoned darts. It was a subtle flinch, a momentary tightening of your shoulders, a forced laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"You look beautiful tonight," he’d say, his voice soft, his eyes tracing the delicate curve of your cheek, the way the soft light of the café illuminated your features.

"Pfft, yeah right," you’d reply, a dismissive wave of your hand, a self-deprecating chuckle that betrayed a deep-seated insecurity. "Don’t lie to me."

He watched you, his brow furrowed, a growing concern etching his features. He saw the way your smile faltered when he complimented your eyes, the way your gaze dropped when he praised your laugh. It was a subtle language, a silent conversation of self-doubt that whispered beneath the surface of your confident exterior.

One night, as he helped you close the café, the quiet intimacy of the empty space emboldening him, he decided to confront the unspoken pain that lingered between them. The last customer had left, the chairs were stacked, the counters wiped clean, and the only sound was the gentle hum of the refrigerator.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, his voice low and serious, his gaze unwavering.

You froze, your hands stilling on the cloth you were using to wipe down the counter. "Do what?"

"Act like I’m lying when I say you’re beautiful."

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the countertop. The silence stretched, a tense, fragile quiet that amplified the unspoken pain.

Finally, you sighed, a soft, resigned sound that spoke of years of ingrained self-doubt. "Because I don’t fit the standard, Mingyu. I never have. My exes made sure I knew that."

The words were barely a whisper, a fragile echo of past hurts, but their impact was profound. Mingyu’s heart clenched, a wave of protectiveness surging through him. He saw the vulnerability in your eyes, the raw honesty that trembled in your voice, and he wanted to erase the pain, to heal the wounds that had festered for so long.

His grip tightened on the counter, his knuckles white. "What did they say?"

"That I was too heavy. That I wasn’t what guys wanted. That I didn’t belong." Your voice was barely audible, a fragile confession that spoke of years of emotional scars. "They said I was too much, or not enough. That nobody would love me like this."

Mingyu’s expression darkened, a fierce protectiveness surging within him. If he could go back in time, he’d shake those men until they realized the magnitude of their foolishness, the precious gem they’d discarded. He’d make them see the beauty they’d overlooked, the strength they’d underestimated, the love they’d rejected.

Instead, he made a silent promise, a vow etched in his heart. He would rewrite your narrative, replacing the lies with truths, the pain with love. He would show you the beauty he saw, the strength he admired, the love he felt. He would make sure you never felt that way again.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek, his touch feather-light, reverent. "They were wrong," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "They were blind. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are strong, you are kind, you are worthy of love. And I… I see you. I see all of you, and I love every part of you."

His words hung in the air, a silent promise of unwavering support, a vow to heal the wounds that had been inflicted by others. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, that the years of ingrained self-doubt wouldn’t vanish overnight. But he was determined to be your anchor, your safe haven, your unwavering champion. He would show you, day by day, moment by moment, the truth of your worth.

From that night forward, Mingyu embarked on a quiet mission, a personal crusade to rewrite the narrative of your self-perception. He became your most ardent admirer, your fiercest champion, a constant source of unwavering affirmation. He showered you with compliments, not empty platitudes, but genuine expressions of the beauty he saw, both inside and out. He wanted to re-educate your heart.

He’d trace the gentle curves of your stomach, his touch light and reverent, whispering, "I love how soft your stomach is. It’s warm and inviting, perfect for cuddling." He’d kiss the soft skin of your inner thighs, his lips lingering, his voice husky as he murmured, "Your thighs drive me crazy, you know that? They’re strong and beautiful, and I could lose myself in them."

He’d hold you close, his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "God, I could hold you all day and never get tired. You feel like home, like the safest place in the world."

And he did hold you, often. He’d lift you effortlessly, his strong arms cradling you, spinning you around just to hear your laughter, a melody that filled his soul with warmth. He’d pull you into his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands tracing the lines of your body, his touch a constant affirmation of your beauty.

"Mingyu! Put me down! I’m heavy!" you’d protest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks, a hint of lingering insecurity in your voice.

He’d just smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief, his grip tightening. "No, you’re perfect. Every curve, every inch, every part of you is perfect."

He worshipped every inch of you, finding beauty in the places others had found flaws. He’d kiss the small scar on your knee, tracing its delicate line with his fingertip, whispering, "This tells a story, a story of strength and resilience. It’s beautiful."

His favorite things:

Kissing your neck, shoulders, and collarbone when you’re tired, his lips leaving a trail of warmth, a gentle reassurance that you were safe and cherished. He'd whisper soft praises against your skin, telling you how hard you worked, how beautiful you were when relaxed.

Back hugs while you cleaned, his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, murmuring soft praises into your ear, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering insecurities. He’d tell you how much he admired your work ethic, your dedication, your quiet strength.

Tracing his fingers over your stomach folds, his touch light and reverent, grinning as he whispers, "So soft, I love this," his adoration palpable. He’d kiss the soft skin, his lips lingering, his touch a silent declaration of his love.

Resting his head on your thighs, looking up at you with pure adoration, his eyes filled with a love that transcended words. He’d tell you how much he admired your strength, your intelligence, your kindness.

Holding your hand while you walk, his grip strong and reassuring, a silent promise of unwavering support. He’d intertwine his fingers with yours, his touch a constant reminder that you were never alone.

Pulling you into his lap when you're sad, whispering sweet nothings until your tears cease. He'd hold you close, his arms wrapped around you, his touch a comforting presence.

Kissing the inside of your wrists, and the soft skin under your ears, his worshiping kisses a silent prayer of adoration. He’d linger over the delicate pulse points, his touch a reverent exploration of your skin.

Falling asleep with you in his arms, his hold tight but gentle, as if he's afraid you'll slip away. He'd hold you close, his breath warm against your hair, his presence a comforting weight.

Running his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and soothing, a silent lullaby that eased the tension from your shoulders.

Making you laugh until your sides hurt, his playful teasing a constant source of joy, a reminder that life was meant to be enjoyed.

Gaze at you while you work, his eyes filled with a soft adoration, a silent appreciation for your dedication and skill.

When he pulls you close, and kisses you deeply, a kiss that tells you how much he loves you, a passionate declaration of his unwavering devotion. He will sometimes pull back, and just stare at your lips, like he is memorizing every curve.

He wanted to rewrite the narrative of your self-perception, to replace the lies with truths, the pain with love. He wanted to show you the beauty he saw, the strength he admired, the love he felt. He wanted to create a safe haven within his arms, a place where you could finally believe in your own worth.

As your relationship with Mingyu deepened, the inevitable public scrutiny began to surface. Whispers turned into rumors, rumors into articles, and articles into a full-blown media frenzy. The internet, a double-edged sword, became a battleground of opinions, some supportive, many cruel.

When dating rumors surfaced, accompanied by candid photos of you and Mingyu sharing a quiet moment in the café, not all fans were kind. Some comments were venomous, laced with jealousy and prejudice, questioning why an idol, a figure of perfection in their eyes, would choose someone like you. They scrutinized your appearance, your background, your very existence, dissecting you with cruel precision.

The harsh words echoed the insecurities you’d carried for so long, a cruel reminder of past hurts. They whispered doubts you’d tried to bury, amplified the voices that had told you you weren’t enough. The online vitriol began to seep into your daily life, a constant barrage of negativity that threatened to erode the fragile confidence Mingyu had worked so hard to build.

Mingyu, however, didn’t stand for it. He was a force of nature, a shield against the storm of negativity. His response was swift, unwavering, a public declaration of love that sent shockwaves through the internet:

"If you can’t support the person I love, then you don’t support me either."

The statement was bold, a clear line drawn in the sand. He chose you, unequivocally, without hesitation. He chose love over the fickle adoration of those who couldn’t see beyond their own narrow perceptions. He made it clear, your happiness, and safety, were his priority.

Behind closed doors, in the quiet sanctuary of his apartment, he held you tighter than ever, his embrace a silent promise of protection. He ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing, his presence a comforting weight against the storm raging outside.

"Don’t listen to them, baby. They don’t know you," he’d whisper, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "They don’t see what I see. They don’t see your kindness, your strength, your beauty. They don’t see the way you light up a room, the way you make me laugh, the way you make me feel like I’m home."

"You belong here, with me," he’d murmur, his lips pressed against your hair, his breath warm against your skin. "You belong in my arms, in my life, in my heart."

He’d hold you close, his arms wrapped around you, his touch a constant reassurance that you weren’t alone. He’d kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, his touch reverent, his lips a silent prayer.

He’d spend hours talking to you, reminding you of your worth, of your strength, of your beauty. He’d recount the moments that made him fall in love with you, the small gestures, the quiet kindnesses, the unwavering strength that shone through your vulnerability. He’d remind you of the way you laughed, of the way you smiled, of the way you made him feel like he was the only person in the world.

He’d cook for you, even though he was terrible at it, just to see the smile on your face. He’d play your favorite music, holding you close as you danced in the living room. He’d watch your favorite movies, even the cheesy ones, just to cuddle with you on the couch.

And slowly, little by little, the walls you’d built around your heart began to crumble. The doubts, the insecurities, the ingrained beliefs that you weren’t enough—they began to fade, replaced by the unwavering certainty of Mingyu’s love. He was your anchor, your safe haven, your unwavering champion, and he wouldn’t let anyone, not even the cruelest of online trolls, take that away from you. He made sure you knew, his love was a shield, and he would always protect you.

As the storm of public scrutiny subsided, a quiet peace settled between you and Mingyu. The initial intensity of his protective fervor mellowed into a gentle, unwavering love that permeated every aspect of your lives. You began to see yourself through his eyes, to embrace the beauty he saw, to believe in the worth he so tirelessly affirmed.

One day, Mingyu called you beautiful, his voice soft and sincere, his eyes filled with a quiet adoration. And for the first time, you didn’t deflect, didn’t dismiss, didn’t shrink away from the compliment. You simply smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that lit up your entire face, a smile that reflected the newfound confidence blooming within you.

And in that moment, he knew—this was love. Real, unwavering, unshakable love. A love that transcended superficialities, a love that embraced every imperfection, every vulnerability. A love that was built on a foundation of acceptance, respect, and unwavering support.

Their relationship blossomed, a quiet intimacy that thrived in the small, everyday moments. Late-night conversations over steaming mugs of coffee, stolen kisses in the quiet corners of the café, hand-holding during long walks through the city streets, shared laughter during mundane tasks. They found comfort in each other’s presence, a sanctuary in each other’s arms.

Mingyu loved to trace the lines of your body, his touch a gentle exploration, his lips whispering praises against your skin. He loved the way your laughter filled the room, a melodic sound that chased away the shadows of past insecurities. He loved the way your eyes sparkled when you were happy, a reflection of the joy he’d helped to cultivate. He loved the way your hand fit perfectly in his, a silent affirmation of their connection.

He’d bring you flowers, not just roses, but wildflowers, sunflowers, and other unusual blooms, each one handpicked and chosen because it reminded him of you. He’d leave small notes around the apartment, tucked into books, slipped into pockets, reminding you of your beauty, your strength, your worth. He’d cook for you, even though he was terrible at it, the burnt edges and lopsided dishes a testament to his love.

You, in turn, learned to appreciate his quirks, his clumsiness, his infectious laughter. You learned to see the quiet strength beneath his playful exterior, the unwavering loyalty that anchored his heart. You learned to trust his love, to believe in his words, to embrace the woman he saw within you.

Their love story was a quiet revolution, a testament to the power of acceptance, the beauty of vulnerability, and the unwavering strength of a love that defied all odds. It was a love that found comfort in imperfections, strength in vulnerability, and a forever in the quiet moments shared between two souls destined to find each other.

It was late, the café bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights outside. The last customer had long since departed, leaving behind a quiet stillness that hung in the air. Mingyu sat on the counter, his eyes fixed on you as you wiped down the espresso machine, his gaze filled with a quiet adoration that spoke of a love that had deepened and matured over time.

Then, without thinking, without hesitation, you turned around and said it. "I love you."

The words were simple, yet their impact was seismic, a ripple that spread through the quiet space, altering the very fabric of their world. Mingyu froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes widening with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy.

Then, his knees buckled, a sharp exhale leaving his lips as he gripped the counter, his knuckles white, his gaze fixed on you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion, a plea that trembled in the stillness.

You stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes filled with a love that mirrored his own. "Mingyu—"

His hands found your waist, gripping like he needed to ground himself, his touch both tender and desperate. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, his body trembling with an emotion too profound for words. "Say it again, please."

So you did, your voice soft but unwavering. "I love you."

Mingyu laughed—a breathless, disbelieving sound that echoed through the empty café. Then he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his lips curved into a smile that radiated pure, unadulterated joy.

"God, you just—" He shook his head, unable to articulate the depth of his emotion, before crashing his lips to yours, a desperate, passionate kiss that spoke of a love long held in check, a love that had finally found its voice.

When he pulled away, he cupped your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks, his eyes filled with a love that transcended words. "I love you more. So much more. So much, it actually hurts."

He showered you with kisses, his lips tracing a path across your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw, his touch reverent, worshipful. He kissed your eyelids, your nose, the soft skin beneath your ears, his touch a silent prayer of adoration.

He held you close, his arms wrapped around you, his body a warm, comforting presence. "I’m never letting you go," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re mine, forever."

And in that moment, in the quiet intimacy of the empty café, surrounded by the scent of coffee and the warmth of their love, they knew—their forever had begun.

702 notes · View notes

gyuldaengie97 · 7 days ago

Text

Unfinished Business

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Avoiding Kim Mingyu should’ve been easy—he was the campus heartbreaker, never staying in one place for too long. But when a reckless kiss turns into something more, you find yourself caught in a game neither of you meant to play. You try to move on, convinced he already has, but Mingyu can’t seem to let you go. As jealousy, misunderstandings, and undeniable tension pull you back together, the question remains: is this just another fleeting moment for him, or something real?

The first time Kim Mingyu saw you, he decided you were a prude.

Little miss perfect with your hair up in your high ponytail as your cheerleading skirt swayed with your hips, such a tease he thought, but he knew deep down that you were the type to play by the rules. The type who blushed at crude jokes but never missed a beat in putting someone in their place with a sharp tongue. The type who kept everyone at arm’s length, flashing that picture-perfect smile while keeping your true thoughts locked away.

You weren’t sure what exactly gave him that impression—maybe it was the way you rolled your eyes whenever he flirted, or how you refused to engage in his little games. Or maybe it was because you never entertained the same kind of attention that other girls in your university did. But here you are standing next to Kim Mingyu as you wait in line for your morning coffee at the campus’ cafe.

Kim Mingyu was the notorious playboy in your school, always with a new girl on his arm and sneaking off with someone new at every party, and for some reason, everyone fought to be that girl. Not you though, you couldn’t care less how he rode to school in his motorcycle, making all the girls swoon with his leather jacket, how his smirk could make anyone weak in the knees, or how his sleeves were always rolled up just enough to show off his annoyingly toned arms.

Because no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, Kim Mingyu had a way of making his presence known. Whether it was the way his eyes would linger on you a little too long in the hallway, or how he always seemed to find an excuse to tease you in class—like he was daring you to react.

“You know, they say if you frown too much it gives you wrinkles.” He says behind you.

“Like I care.” You scoff.

“Of course you do, princess.” his voice dripped with that infuriating cockiness that made your blood boil. “Can’t have those pretty little worry lines ruining your perfect face, now can we?”

You rolled your eyes, clutching your books a little tighter as you turned to glare at him. “Why don’t you go bother someone who actually likes the attention?”

“And you’re telling me you don’t?” he smirks as you finally reach the counter and give your order. “What makes you think I have even a shred of interest in you?” you shot back, pulling out your wallet as you avoided his gaze.

Mingyu chuckled, stepping closer, his voice lowering just enough to send an irritating shiver down your spine. “Because, sweetheart, if you really didn’t care, you wouldn’t always have something to say to me.”

You scoffed, handing your cash to the cashier with more force than necessary. “Or maybe I just find you unbearably annoying.”

He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Ouch. You wound me.” Then, as if proving his point, he leaned against the counter beside you, watching you with that lazy grin. “But if I’m so annoying, why haven’t you walked away yet?”

Your jaw tightened, but before you could answer, your order was called. Grabbing the cup with more focus than necessary, you turned on your heel. “Because I was in line first, genius.”

As you walked away, you could still hear his chuckle following you, his voice laced with amusement as he called after you, “See you around, princess.”

And despite yourself, you hated how you already knew he’d find another excuse to bother you again.

Mingyu could get any girl he wanted, except you. And that bothered him, more than he cared to admit.

It wasn’t just that you ignored his flirting or rolled your eyes at his cocky remarks—it was the way you looked at him, like he was nothing special. Like he was just another guy in the crowd, not the Kim Mingyu everyone else practically tripped over themselves for.

And maybe at first, it was just a challenge. A test to see how long it would take to break down those walls of yours, to get you to blush, to get you to look at him the way other girls did, but now he was more determined, he wanted to push your buttons, to see how much you could take before you snapped—before that perfectly composed exterior of yours cracked and revealed something real underneath.

It was the start of the semester which meant the huge party thrown to welcome some of the freshmen. You honestly weren’t up for it but Jennie and Sana dragged you out that night.

“Were you just gonna read in your dorm, really?” Jennie said as she led you to the bar and got you a shot. “I had a long week, my social battery is dead!” You sigh as you take the shot from Jennie.

“After a few shots you’ll be resurrected.” Sana winked and you giggled as you took another one.

The night was surprisingly fun as you danced with Jennie and Sana, until you found yourself sitting in a circle on the floor, clutching a bottle of beer for a game of truth or dare.

Sana got dared to ask someone she found cute on a date and she ended up asking a senior, Kim Jin young which made you all squeal as you knew she had the biggest crush on him. Jennie ended up sitting on Kim Taehyung’s lap after he dared to pull a girl he wanted to kiss to sit on him. Then it was your turn.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Kwon Soonyung asked as the group waited for your answer. Just pick Truth you thought and get over it.

“T–”

“She’ll pick truth for sure, why are you even asking?” You looked up, meeting Mingyu’s smug gaze. He was leaning back on his palms, watching you with that lazy, amused smirk that made your blood boil.

You could already hear the teasing in his voice, already see the challenge in his expression. You knew what he thought of you—that you’d take the safe route, pick ‘truth,’ and answer something boring and predictable.

But you were tired of being predictable.

“Dare,” you said, lifting your chin.

Mingyu’s eyebrows shot up. The room erupted in hoots and laughter, but you kept your eyes on him, refusing to back down.

He tilted his head, considering. And then he grinned.

“I dare you to make out with me.”

The laughter in the room turned into shocked gasps. Someone whistled. Your friend nudged you, eyes wide with excitement.

You froze.

“What?!” you asked in shock, as your two friends stared at you in bewilderment.

“You heard me, I dare you to make out with me” he says again, looking at you, challenging.

Mingyu was watching you closely now, waiting for you to back down, to scoff and refuse. But you couldn’t. Not when this was your one chance to prove that you weren’t some untouchable, goody-two-shoes girl who was afraid to let loose.

You swallowed hard, set your beer down, and pushed yourself up onto your knees. The room held its breath as you crawled over to him, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Mingyu’s smirk faltered for the first time.

You stopped in front of him, meeting his eyes, giving him one last chance to take it back. He didn’t.

So you kissed him.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant—it was firm, deliberate. You could feel the shock in the way his body tensed, but then he reacted, his hand reaching out to grip your waist, pulling you closer. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that startled you, his fingers pressing into your skin like he needed to hold on.

You barely heard the cheers around you, barely registered the way the world blurred. All you knew was the way he tasted—like beer and something unmistakably him—and the way heat curled in your stomach at the way he kissed you back.

And then it was over.

You pulled away first, breathless, your face impossibly warm. Mingyu’s eyes were dark as they searched yours, his grip on your waist lingering before he let go.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was still racing as you sat back down, avoiding his gaze for the rest of the game

“Y/N! I can’t believe you did that!” Sana skipped next to you as Jennie tugged on your arm. “He’s just been such an ass, I just want him to shut up already!” You yell as you make your way to your dorm.

“How was it though?” Jennie teased and you shoved her playfully, “This is why I like staying home!” You say and your friends laugh on the way back home.

The problem was, Mingyu couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It started as a passing thought—just a replay of the way your lips felt against his, the way you had surprised him. But then it became something else. Something that lingered. Something that followed him when he least expected it.

Like when he saw you at lunch the next day, laughing at something your friend said, your lips curling in that same way he had felt against his own.

Or when he caught the scent of your perfume as you passed by him in the hallway, completely ignoring him, a soft, lingering trace of warmth that made his chest tighten.

Or when he found himself staring at your mouth in the middle of class, remembering how it had felt pressed against his, how you had tasted, how you had made his entire world tilt on its axis for one impossible moment.

He was losing his mind.

He made his way to the football field, a place he rarely—if ever—visited. School spirit wasn’t exactly his thing. He didn’t waste his time watching games, didn’t care about pep rallies, and definitely didn’t sit around watching cheer practice like some lovesick idiot.

And yet, here he was.

He told himself it was just to clear his head, just to get some fresh air. But deep down, he knew that was bullshit. He was here for one reason and one reason only—you.

There you were, in the middle of the field, effortlessly commanding attention without even trying. Your movements were sharp, practiced, but all he could focus on was the way your lips parted as you caught your breath, the way your skirt swayed with every jump, the way you looked so damn unbothered—like you hadn’t kissed him and turned his entire world upside down.

He leaned back against the bleachers, arms crossed, jaw tight.

You were acting like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t stolen the breath from his lungs that night.

And that? That was pissing him off more than he cared to admit.

He waited until your practice ended, lingering near the field with a patience he didn’t usually have. The second you stepped out of the locker room, he was already moving.

He stayed a few paces behind, watching as you turned the corner toward the dorms, completely unaware of his presence—until his hand closed around your wrist.

Before you could react, he had you pressed against the wall, his grip firm but careful, his body just close enough to make your breath hitch.

‘What do you want, Mingyu?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I want to know why you kissed me like that.”

You blinked. “Because I was dared to.”

His jaw clenched. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you said, but there was something in your voice, something hesitant, something uncertain.

Mingyu narrowed his eyes, studying you like he could see right through the lie. His fingers flexed around your wrist before he let go, but he didn’t step back.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he muttered.

You scoffed, tilting your chin up. “And you’re delusional if you think that kiss meant anything.”

His lips curled into a smirk, but there was no amusement in his eyes—just something darker, something unreadable. “Funny,” he murmured. “Because I remember you pulling me closer. I remember the way you sighed against my mouth. I remember you wanting it just as much as I did.”

“It was a dare, Mingyu. Nothing more.”

You said it with conviction, but even you could hear the slight waver in your voice.

Mingyu caught it, too. His smirk deepened, but his eyes remained locked on yours, sharp and knowing. “Right,” he drawled, stepping just a fraction closer. “So if I kissed you again right now, it wouldn’t mean anything?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Go ahead,” you challenged, hoping he wouldn’t call your bluff.

For a second, you thought he might. His gaze flickered to your lips, his fingers twitching at his sides. The air between you was thick, charged, and suddenly, you were hyper-aware of just how close he was, of how his cologne mixed with the faint scent of him.

But then, just as quickly as the tension built, he took a step back.

His smirk returned, lazy and infuriating. “Not yet,” he murmured. “I think I’d rather wait until you beg me for it.”

Your mouth parted in shock, but before you could fire back, he was already walking away, hands in his pockets, like this was all some sort of game.

And the worst part? You weren’t sure who was winning anymore.

You hated yourself for letting him get to you. Kim Mingyu—the guy who had hooked up with practically everyone on campus—was the one stuck in your head.

You needed someone to knock some sense into you.

You were not one of his random girls. You were not going to be just another trophy under his belt.

So you did the only thing you could think of—you ignored him.

You refused to meet his gaze in the hallways, pretended not to hear his usual teasing remarks in class, and when he showed up at cheer practice again, lounging on the bleachers like he suddenly cared about school spirit, you acted as if he wasn’t even there.

But Mingyu wasn’t stupid.

He noticed the way you started talking to Yu-Jun more, laughing a little louder at his jokes, touching his arm just enough to make it obvious.

And it was working—Mingyu was pissed.

You saw it in the way his jaw clenched whenever he caught you with Yu-Jun, in the way his easy smirk faltered whenever you leaned in a little too close. But he didn’t say anything. Not yet.

Until the night of the party.

The music was loud, the house packed, and you were doing just fine—until you felt it.

A presence behind you, solid and familiar.

“Mingyu,” you muttered, not bothering to turn around.

He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned down so his lips were right next to your ear.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You turned to face him, feigning innocence. “Having fun.”

His eyes flickered to where Yu-Jun was, just a few feet away, completely oblivious to the storm brewing in Mingyu’s expression.

“That's what we’re calling it?” He let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

You raised a brow. “And what exactly am I doing?”

He stepped closer, and suddenly, it felt like the entire room had shrunk.

“You’re trying to make me jealous.”

You tilted your head. “Is it working?”

His jaw ticked, his hands flexing at his sides.

“Careful, princess,” he murmured, voice dropping lower. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You smirked. “I can handle it.”

Mingyu exhaled sharply, eyes dark as he looked down at you. “Yeah?” He took another step forward, backing you against the wall, just like before. Only this time, there was no teasing glint in his eyes—only something raw, something possessive.

“Then let’s see how long you last.”

You swallowed, pulse racing as Mingyu’s presence closed in around you. The music thumped through the house, people danced and laughed around you, but all you could focus on was him—his scent, the heat radiating off his skin, the way his gaze locked onto yours like he was daring you to look away first.

You refused to back down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, tilting your chin up, feigning indifference even though your heart was hammering against your ribs.

Mingyu’s smirk was slow, predatory. “Oh, I think you do.”

His hand lifted, brushing the bare skin of your arm, barely there, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You think Yu-Jun’s gonna get under my skin? That watching you laugh at his jokes is gonna make me forget the way you kissed me?”

Your breath caught.

Mingyu leaned in, voice low. “Newsflash, sweetheart. I don’t forget that easily.”

Before you could respond, a voice interrupted.

“There you are! I was looking for you.”

Yu-Jun.

You blinked, snapping out of whatever daze Mingyu had trapped you in. Yu-Jun stood a few feet away, drink in hand, completely oblivious to the tension crackling between you and Mingyu.

You saw the way Mingyu’s jaw clenched, the way his hands curled into fists like he was seconds away from losing his temper.

Yu-Jun glanced between the two of you, sensing something but not quite understanding. “Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, pushing off the wall and brushing past Mingyu like he hadn’t just sent your entire world tilting. “Yeah. Just talking.”

Mingyu let out a quiet scoff, watching as Yu-Jun slung an arm over your shoulders, leading you away.

He was seething.

The idea of someone else’s hands on you, someone else making you laugh, someone else being the reason you smiled—it drove him insane.

Fine.

You wanted to play this game?

Let’s see how you liked it when he played back.

You were in the library, writing your paper that you couldn’t seem to get done, when suddenly, someone slid into the seat next to you—Mingyu.

You sighed, not even bothering to look up. “What do you want now?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he peered over at your laptop screen. “You’ve been staring at that same paragraph for the last ten minutes.”

You huffed, sitting back. “Maybe because someone keeps distracting me.”

Mingyu grinned. “Oh? I wasn’t even saying anything yet.”

“You don’t have to.” You gave him a pointed look, but he just stretched out, acting as if he belonged there.

And, annoyingly, he kept showing up.

At first, it was random—Mingyu popping up when you least expected him. Sitting next to you at lunch even though his usual crowd was across the cafeteria, showing up at cheer practice under the excuse that “it’s a free country,” stealing the chair beside you in class when there were clearly other empty seats.

Then, it became… routine.

He’d meet you at the library, claiming he “needed to study” (which was a lie because he barely did). He’d walk with you after practice, pretending it was just coincidence. He started texting you—little things, dumb jokes, memes, random thoughts in the middle of the night that made you laugh even when you didn’t want to.

And somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like a game.

He wasn’t just teasing you to get under your skin anymore. He was remembering things—your favorite coffee order, how you liked to read before bed, how you always tied your hair up when you were stressed.

Mingyu was falling for you.

And it terrified him.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do when things got too real—he ran.

Or, more accurately, he pushed you away.

It happened at a party.

You weren’t even supposed to be there, but Jennie had convinced you to come. You’d been avoiding Mingyu for the past few days, unsure what to make of the shift between you, and you figured a party was the best place to clear your head.

Until you saw him.

Mingyu, standing in the middle of the crowded room, a drink in hand, laughing as some girl draped herself over him. He wasn’t pushing her away. If anything, he was leaning into it.

Your stomach twisted.

You weren’t supposed to care.

You weren’t supposed to feel like someone had just punched you in the chest.

But there he was.

Mingyu, standing in the middle of the party, a drink in hand, his stupid, easy smile plastered on his face as some girl draped herself over him. She laughed at something he said, running her fingers down his arm, and he didn’t stop her. He leaned into it. Let her touch him. Let her whisper in his ear.

Like it was nothing.

Like you were nothing.

And maybe you were.

Maybe you had been fooling yourself this whole time, thinking that the lingering looks, the late-night texts, the way he always seemed to find you first in a crowded room—meant something. Meant anything.

But this was Kim Mingyu.

Kim Mingyu, who didn’t belong to anyone. Kim Mingyu, who didn’t care. Kim Mingyu, who was doing exactly what he’d always done—treating people like they were temporary, replaceable.

You clenched your fists, hating how much it hurt, hating that some pathetic part of you had thought, for even a second, that you were different. That he saw you differently.

But you weren’t.

And maybe this was the wake-up call you needed.

So you turned around, forcing yourself to walk away, forcing yourself not to care.

Because if he could act like it meant nothing—then so could you.

He knew it was a mistake the second he saw you.

You were still in the party, still surrounded by people, but this time, you weren’t stiff and guarded like you usually were. No, this time, you were tipsy—your head thrown back in laughter, your fingers clutching onto a half-finished drink, your eyes glassy as you swayed slightly to the music.

And he hated it.

Hated that you looked so carefree when his head was a mess. Hated that some guy—Yu-Jun, of all people—was way too close, whispering things in your ear that made you giggle. Hated that despite bringing another girl to the party, he barely remembered her name.

She had her hand on his chest, fingers tracing patterns over his shirt, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy watching you.

Too busy feeling something he shouldn’t be feeling.

He had to remind himself why he did this—why he pulled away before things got too real. It wasn’t supposed to be serious. He wasn’t supposed to get attached. And yet, the more he watched you laugh, drink, stumble just a little, the more his stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol.

You were too drunk.

And that meant someone had to take care of you.

And somehow, for some goddamn reason, Mingyu knew that someone had to be him.

But before he could make his way over to you, he saw you grab your coat and mumble something to Yu-Jun before heading outside.

Mingyu wasn’t the only one who followed.

The cold air hit your face as you stumbled out onto the street. You weren’t that drunk—you still knew exactly where you were, still knew how to get home. You just needed a second to breathe.

But apparently, Yu-Jun had other plans.

“Hey, I’ll take you home,” he offered, stepping closer.

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Come on, don’t be stubborn,” he said, reaching for your arm.

You yanked it back. “I said I’m fine!”

Before you could register what was happening, a loud crack split the air, and suddenly, Yu-Jun was stumbling backward, clutching his face.

Your eyes widened.

Mingyu stood in front of you, chest rising and falling, his fist still clenched.

Yu-Jun groaned, holding his jaw. “What the fuck, man?”

Mingyu didn’t even look at him. His dark, furious eyes were locked on you.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice low, controlled.

You hesitated, still reeling from what just happened. “Mingyu—”

“Now.”

Before you could say another word, Mingyu grabbed your wrist and yanked you forward.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice low and firm.

You resisted, trying to dig your heels into the pavement. “Mingyu, I’m fine. Let me go.”

But he wasn’t listening.

One moment, you were standing on the sidewalk, and the next, you were being lifted off the ground.

“Mingyu!” you shrieked, kicking your legs as he threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. “Put me down!”

“Not a chance,” he muttered, gripping your thighs to keep you from squirming.

Your fists pounded against his back, but he didn’t even flinch. “You’re being ridiculous! I can walk on my own!”

He scoffed. “Yeah? You were about to let that idiot take you home.”

“I wasn’t—ugh—let me go!”

“Nope.”

You groaned, wiggling in his grip, but it was useless. Mingyu was built like a damn tank, and if he was set on dragging you home, there was no way you were getting out of it.

You could hear Yu-Jun cursing behind you, but Mingyu didn’t spare him a glance. He just kept walking, ignoring your protests, ignoring everything—except getting you the hell away from there.

And maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else entirely, but for some reason, being carried by Kim Mingyu, held like you were something he needed to protect, didn’t feel as bad as it should have.

As soon as Mingyu put you down in front of your dorm, you shoved him—hard.

“What the hell was that?” you snapped, your voice sharp despite the slight unsteadiness in your stance.

Mingyu barely moved from your push, just ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear on his face. “I was grabbing you before he could.”

You scoffed. “What, so you think that makes it okay? You don’t get to decide who I go home with, Mingyu!”

His jaw clenched. “He was all over you.”

“Nothing was happening!” you yelled, throwing your hands up. “And even if it was, you have no right to say who I can or can’t hang out with!”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened. “I had every right when you were drunk and barely standing straight.”

“I was fine!” you shot back. “And even if I wasn’t, I didn’t need you to play the hero.”

Mingyu let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Right. Of course. You’d rather let him take you home instead.”

You exhaled sharply, rage simmering just under your skin. “Why do you even care, Mingyu? You spent the whole night with her.”

Mingyu stiffened, but you weren’t done.

“You think I didn’t see you?” You let out a humorless chuckle. “With your hands all over her? Whispering in her ear like you were just so into her?” You tilted your head mockingly. “So, tell me, Mingyu. Was she just as fun as the last one?”

“She’s nothing,” he said immediately.

God. That pissed you off even more.

“Oh, of course she’s nothing,” you sneered, crossing your arms. “Because that’s what they all are, right? Just girls to use when you need to distract yourself?”

Mingyu’s face hardened. “It’s not like that.”

“No?” You scoffed. “Then what is it like? Please, enlighten me.”

He was silent.

You nodded, exhaling sharply. “You know what? You don’t have to explain anything to me either, because we’re nothing at all.”

And that—that—hit him harder than you expected.

You saw it in the way his expression shifted, how his lips parted slightly, how for just a second, the ever-so-cocky Kim Mingyu looked like you had just knocked the air out of his lungs.

But you didn’t let yourself care.

You turned on your heel, grabbing your key from your pocket, ignoring the way your hands shook as you unlocked your door. You refused to let him see how much this affected you.

You refused to let him win.

And as you stepped inside, slamming the door behind you, you didn’t see Mingyu standing there, unmoving, hands clenched into fists, staring at the door like he wanted nothing more than to break it down and demand you take it back.

Because nothing had never felt like such a lie.

Avoiding Mingyu should’ve been easy. He wasn’t exactly the type to chase after someone, and if he did, it was never for long.

But somehow, he lingered.

You started taking different routes to class, skipping lunch in the cafeteria, and ignoring his presence at parties altogether. You refused to acknowledge the way your chest ached when you caught glimpses of him—leaning against his motorcycle, laughing with his friends, whispering something into a girl’s ear.

You told yourself you were fine. That you were over it. That you had nothing to get over in the first place.

But the thing was, Mingyu wasn’t fine.

He didn’t know why he cared so much.

Because for the first time in his life, someone wasn’t falling all over themselves to be with him. Someone was actually walking away.

And it was you.

You, who had somehow gotten under his skin without even trying. You, who used to snap at him in the hallway, roll your eyes at his teasing, shove his shoulder when he got too close.

Now? You didn’t even look at him.

And it pissed him off.

Not because his ego was bruised—no, this was different. He missed you.

And that scared the hell out of him.

So, he did the only thing he could do—he watched.

From a distance, making sure you were okay. Making sure Yu-Jun or any other guy wasn’t getting too close. Making sure you were still you.

But the most frustrating part?

You seemed perfectly fine without him.

The final straw came on a Friday night, at a party he had no intention of attending—until he heard you were going.

And there you were, sitting on the arm of some guy’s couch, laughing at something he said, looking completely unbothered.

Mingyu didn’t think. He just moved.

Next thing he knew, he was pulling you aside, gripping your wrist just tight enough to make you stop but not enough to hurt.

“What the hell, Mingyu?” you snapped, trying to yank yourself free.

He didn’t let go. “Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Too bad,” he muttered, dragging you outside onto the empty balcony.

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “What do you want?”

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know,” he admitted, which surprised even him. “I just—fuck, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” you shot back, frustration evident in your voice. “Mingyu, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to pull me away from people, you don’t get to act like you care when you were the one who—”

“I do care,” he said, cutting you off.

You froze.

Mingyu let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? I care about you.”

You stared at him, completely caught off guard. “Then why did you—”

“Because I got scared,” he admitted, looking at you like he was barely holding himself together. “Because I don’t do this, I don’t—fuck, I’ve never had to try before. But you—” He let out a shaky breath, his eyes burning into yours. “You’re not like anyone else.”

You swallowed hard, but he wasn’t done.

“You drive me crazy,” he continued, voice raw with frustration. “Not just because you didn’t fall at my feet, not just because you called me out on my bullshit, but because you actually see me. You challenge me. You make me want to be better. And it scares the hell out of me.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

He stepped closer, his voice lower now. “You’re stubborn as hell. You overthink everything. You get this little crease between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating, and you don’t even realize how cute it is.” His lips twitched, but there was something genuine in his expression. “You fight for what you believe in. You never let anyone tell you what to do. And you—you make me feel like I actually matter.”

Silence.

You didn’t know what to say.

Because this was Mingyu—Kim Mingyu—the guy who never got attached, never stayed with one girl, never cared about anyone other than himself.

“I tried to push you away. I thought if I did, maybe I could stop thinking about you all the damn time.”

You stared at him, unsure if you wanted to scream or laugh. “And how did that work out for you?”

His lips twitched, but there was no humor in it. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

You swallowed, looking away. “Mingyu—”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, stepping closer. “I’ve never done this before, not like this. I’m not used to feeling this way, and it scares the hell out of me.”

You bit your lip, fighting against the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “You hurt me.”

Mingyu’s expression softened, his hand lifting slightly before he let it drop. “I know.” His voice was quiet, sincere. “And I hate myself for it.”

For the first time, you saw it—real regret in his eyes.

And maybe that was what undid you.

Because despite everything, despite all the reasons you had to push him away… you still wanted him.

Still felt something for him.

So when he whispered, “Tell me I don’t have a chance, and I’ll walk away.”

You couldn’t say it.

You couldn’t lie.

And he saw it.

Mingyu inhaled sharply, then—before you could second-guess yourself—he closed the distance between you, cupping your face in his hands as his lips crashed against yours.

And this time, you didn’t stop him.

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