taesjpq

[taesjpq]

mingyu is gonna be the death of me

[taesjpq]

I miss @/hoshifighting :(

[taesjpq]

damn i wish u guys could read this fic i haven't written and this fic i haven't finished writing and this fic i'm putting off outlining and this fic i outlined but haven't started and this fic i'll never write and this other fic i haven't written and this fic that exists only in vague impressions in my head that fall apart every time i try to commit them to the page and th

[taesjpq]

such a good one after a looong timee

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader, domestic fluff + smut

summary: gyu has to film a vlog for seventeen’s youtube channel

a/n: this is a very old piece that I attempted to revive w mingyu. hopefully not too random LOL

disclaimer: MDNI (detailed warnings below cut), technically no pronouns so gn but female anatomy

warnings: filming sex, praise, fingering, degrading, gyu is a mean dom but only bcs he’s obsessed w u, cum play, slapping (briefly), f penetration, corniness, brief cockwarming, pet names (baby, angel)

When you greet Mingyu, you can tell something is off. He walks through the door of your apartment half-asleep. He doesn’t give you his usual bright smile. Not that he doesn’t smile at you, because there’s no way he could ever not smile at you. No matter how tired he is, the sight of you waiting for him has his lips tugging up.

This time, it’s not the open-mouthed, teeth-shining smile he normally sends your way. It’s just different. It holds a different weight. You figure he’s just tired. He’s had a long week of schedules, and the two of you don’t have long before he has to leave again. It was hard at times. You had to make every moment with him count.

You don’t want to add to any stress he may already be feeling, so you ignore it. He wraps his arms around you, burying his head in your neck. You end up standing like that for a while, running your fingers through his hair to ease his mind. The two of you practically waddle your way to the bathroom together. You go through your night routines while you leave kisses on the back of his shirt as he washes his face. Your lips linger on any open skin you can reach, and it makes him shudder. You wrap your arms especially tight around him as the two of you drift off to sleep that night.

The following day, he informs you he’s filming a vlog for their YouTube channel.

“What I do on my day off,” he explains. Your head tilts at his words. Mingyu’s hair is a mess, you’re certain yours is the same. You can’t help but snuggle deeper into his chest, too lazy to sit up in bed for this conversation.

“Oh?”

Your relationship wasn’t exactly public. Not that you two weren’t allowed to be spotted together, and you’re certain carats would be happy for him. It was more so a preference. Keeping things private was comfortable for the two of you. Mingyu told you once that he felt a certain vulnerability around you both that he believes only a selected few were allowed to witness. You told him you understood and that the feeling was mutual. So, he generally avoided talking about you on camera. And you avoided telling most people about your idol boyfriend. Filming a vlog that entailed spending most of his day with you was . . . not ideal, to say the least.

“Well, you can’t exactly film me all day,” You lift your head and realize the incriminating words coming out of your mouth. A smirk starts to form on Mingyu’s lips. “Wait, that’s not what I meant,”

“I know what you mean,” He’s giggling at you as you sulk, “I was hoping you could help me film, actually,”

You agree, and he spends the next half hour explaining to you how to get the right exposure and focus on his camera.

“All I need is a few action shots,” he explains, “Me cooking, doing laundry, stuff like that,”

“How romantic,” you tease when you’re standing behind the camera, shooting his back facing you, spatula in hand, apron wrapped around his torso.

He turns around, and you watch through the screen. His bright smile looks back at you, and you can’t help but smile back.

“You’re so cheesy,”

Once you’ve got the shots he needs, you help him finish cooking. When you’re all done, you eat breakfast on your balcony. You wear a large sweatshirt of his and steal bites from Mingyu’s plate. He smiles as he does the same, taking from yours. You’re glad to be with Mingyu like this. The sweetness of the syrup is almost comparable to the sweetness in your chest. His camera is inside, recording through the large glass windows as you’ve put the blinds up. He makes sure only he was in the frame beforehand, of course.

Later, he seems to enjoy himself as you apply sheet masks and play some music in the background. He even pretends to get upset when you ask to paint his nails. You bicker, but you can tell he wants you to paint them regardless. All whilst he films clips here and there.

“I don’t really know what to talk about, so I’m making it more like a montage than a vlog,” he tells you when you ask him about it.

You try not to laugh at the seriousness in his face. Sheet masks on both of your faces, only slightly opening your mouths to speak. It results in a laughing fit ending in both of you adjusting your masks afterward. Lunch passes, and he smudges most of the deep blue nail polish he picked out when he grabs silverware to eat with.

The two of you make dinner together later that night. You think he’s back to his usual self when he can’t stop the giggles from falling out of his lips anymore. No longer exhausted from having to keep up his idol image. You both come to the decision to eat dinner on the couch. Leaning into each other as you try not to get pasta all over your couch cushions. You scold him every time he nearly drops his plate. He just smiles at you and promises he won’t make a mess.

“It’s more fun this way,”

“Will it still be fun when you spill your entire plate on my rug?”

“Yes, I’ll lick the floor clean,”

You nearly kick him over for having such an absurd response. He’s laughing at the shock on your face. He takes haphazard bites of the pasta, making loud slurping noises as he does so. All you can do is half-heartedly glare at him, not able to stop your eyes from wandering to his chin. Where pasta residue is smeared all over.

Mingyu notices your eyes staring at it. He brings his thumb up to his chin to wipe it. You expect him to lick it up and hum at you. That he’ll tease you–say he’s being extra careful. Or even wipe it off on his napkin so you won’t scold him. Instead, he brings his thumb to your lips and practically shoves it into your mouth.

Regardless of your surprise, your tongue wraps around it, and you’re embarrassed at how fast you’ve reacted. Looking at him through your lashes, you take a deep breath through your nose. Mingyu only smiles at you as he takes the digit out. An obscene pop fills the room. You let out a huff in a self-deprecating act. You can feel your underwear get uncomfortably warm. Along with the tips of your ears.

“Is my angel upset?” He laughs and tilts his head slightly at you, raising his eyebrows.

You pout at him. He’s gleaming at your upset face. Practically glowing.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,”

Mingyu’s smile falters, seemingly considering it for a second. His thoughts linger on the image of you on his new camera sucking on his thumb. His hesitation makes your insides flip.

Unfortunately for you, he pecks you on the lips and brings you back to reality. He doesn’t let it go any further than that. You guys soon finish eating dinner and settle back onto the couch. Your limbs are entangled as you select a movie for the night.

Soon, after starting the movie, Mingyu’s hand is resting on your thigh, tracing delicate patterns with his fingers over your pajama pants. It starts innocently, as most of your intimate moments do, but he slowly begins to knead the sensitive skin. Goosebumps arise on your skin, and you bury your face into Mingyu’s chest to prevent yourself from letting a moan fall out of your lips. The feeling of his hand through the thin material sets your skin ablaze. You take a deep inhale of his scent, wanting to cherish him for as long as you possibly can.

“What’s wrong, baby? Don’t like the movie?” His tone is condescending.

You only shake your head into his loose shirt. His fingers inch closer to where you need him most, and your heart skips a beat. It only incites you further. Skin itching to be touched.

“I want you, gyu,” you manage to breathe out.

He complies, eager to hear your whines. He draws one out when he cups you over your pants, you just about hump at his hand. You manage to look up at him and plead once more.

“Need more,”

His eyes are half-lidded now, and while he does his best not to show it, you can tell he needs you just as much as you need him. His chest is moving shallowly, and his gray sweatpants are starting to strain around his crotch. The foreign film playing in the background becomes muffled.

“Need more what?” He mocks you.

“Need more, please,” you can’t help but sound needy.

He smiles at that.

“Need more of my hand?”

“Yes,” the words leave you before he has a chance to offer you anything else, “pretty please. I need your hand,”

“Well, since you asked so nicely--”

His hand reaches past your pants to where you need him most. A long finger trails up and down your opening, gathering your slick. You whine at the feeling.

“What do you say, angel?” The name has you clenching.

He hums at you and circles his thumb around your clit. You gasp at the feeling, too distracted to answer him. You can barely process his words. He isn’t even inside you yet. Mingyu leans into your neck and leaves open-mouth kisses below your ear.

“I asked you a question,” he nibbles at your neck. “Did you hear me, hm? Or are you too focused on cumming right now to remember your manners?“

He presses his finger to your opening and your pussy swallows him, eager to be filled. Your mouth hangs open, saliva gathering in a corner of your mouth.

“Poor baby can’t think straight, drooling everywhere,”

“Feels good,” is all you’re capable of telling him.

Now, Mingyu can’t resist touching himself. He lets his opposite hand grab under his sweatpants. You can see as the fabric moves with his strokes. His head moving to your shoulders, slowly laying kisses there, now.

“Too good to say thank you? Need to cum that badly, hm? Only think about yourself, pretty baby?”

Regardless of the degrading words, he rewards you with another finger. He begins scissoring them and you let out a gasp.

“No, gyu, thank you--” you want to make him feel good too, but, “Just love your fingers lots. A-Always know how to fuck me,”

His fingers speed up, your noises filling the room. The smell of your sex taking over.

“That’s right,” he pulls himself back to watch you under the cool light of the television. “Always know exactly what you need,”

His eyes meet yours, pace never faltering. All you see behind them is love, and it’s making your body twitch. Embarrassment settles into the back of your mind, but all you can focus on is how good his fingers feel. You find yourself reaching your high. Moving your hips to ride it out. Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight, suddenly becoming needy.

“Fuck,” he’s breathless, “Please. Please, let me film you,”

The camera is pointed at you, fresh SD card changed out not too long ago. Mingyu has one hand on your lower stomach, trying to keep you in place. You’re squirming at his mercy. His pace is steady and hard. You feel him deep with every thrust, and your hands are scrambling all over the place, desperately trying to keep them still. They start grasping at the sheets. Mingyu can’t help but grab them. He forces them above your head and slams into you impossibly quick. Surely, the camera is capturing the sound of skin smacking skin. Mingyu’s hand leaves yours, trailing down to your waist. He trusts you to know what will happen if you move them.

You look up at him, and a whine slips past your lips. His eyes are looking at you from behind the camera. They’re looking at you so intensely that you can’t help but turn your head. You bury your face into the sheets when suddenly Mingyu’s pace slows. He stills inside of you. It makes you swallow hard. All that’s heard through the camera is deep breathing.

“Angel,” his hand taps at your face. Not enough to sting, but enough to catch your attention.

You can feel the camera move closer. You groan and subconsciously squeeze his cock, missing the lack of friction. Mingyu’s hand meets your face once more, this time with more force.

“Eyes up, please,” always so polite, “don’t you want to look pretty for the camera?” He guides your chin with his long fingers. The juxtaposition of his kind words and harsh actions makes your head spin.

You gulp and nod as best as you can with his tight grip on you. You’re glad he doesn’t make you say it aloud; sure you aren’t coherent enough to piece the words together. Your eyes go to the camera. You feel your eyes flutter. Mingyu takes the opportunity to stuff his thumb in your mouth. Just as he had done earlier with the pasta. Your lips work hard to wrap around it. Low, quiet curses come from Mingyu behind the camera. Which is now pulled back to show both of your holes stuffed. Mingyu starts to pull out of you excruciatingly slowly, making you groan around his finger. When only the head of his long cock remains, he pushes back in just as slow.

“Your pretty pussy sucks me in so well, baby,”

He continues to move in and out of you too slowly for your liking. Letting you feel every ridge and vein that lines his cock. The camera captures all of your squirms. Squeezing around him and moving your hips to meet his, making desperate attempts to compel him to speed up. but Mingyu’s stride is unchanging. You’re gasping around his finger and nearing the brink of tears.

“So lucky you’re mine,”

His voice is strained, and you can tell he’s losing his patience, too. He takes his thumb out of your mouth and brings it down to where your bodies meet. He begins to rub lazy circles over your clit. It has you clawing at the bed frame above you.

“Go ahead, baby, cum around my cock,”

All it takes is a couple more presses of his thumb and you’re coming undonep. Mingyu keeps a steady rate and double-checks to make sure the camera is filming all of you. Overstimulation floods your veins and tears stream down your face at the overwhelming pleasure you feel. All you can focus on is the blinking red light on the camera.

“Fuck,” Mingyu sucks in a breath, “Angel, you look so good--”

You feel pride at the way his hips stutter.

“Doing so well,”

His praises spur you on, and explicit moans leave you. Soon, Mingyu is cumming. He pulls out, much to your dismay, and pumps himself over you. He moves the camera down to frame his cock cumming onto your pussy. You twitch as it drips down your sensitive clit. He brings the camera closer to the scene. A breath leaves your lips at what he does next.

Mingyu then takes the head of his cock and rubs his cum up and down your warmth. Once he gathers it, he slowly pushes it back into you. It’s all too much and you find yourself reaching your high once more as he films the obscenity.

“Fuck,”

As you come back down, you see the camera pointed at your face, and you suddenly become shy. You hide behind your arm and smile lazily. A giggle escapes Mingyu and you can’t help but peek. His eyes are squinting and he looks deceivingly innocent as he moves down to place a sweet kiss on your mouth. You hold his face tightly and he does the same to your waist.

When he pulls away, he points the camera at both of you. He turns the viewfindee so that you can both see what it is filming and blows a kiss to it. Embarrassment reaches your body and you bury your face into his neck. The silliness is too much.

He giggles again and puts the camera away. When you face him again you can’t help the butterflies that fill your tummy. He looks so pretty and in love, it’s hard to believe it’s all for you. Mingyu hums at your stare in question. You shake your head.

“Was wondering why you were being so weird. Turns out you were just horny.” You squeeze around him and smile at the groan he lets out.

“Missed you,” he mutters into your neck.

“Stay like this?” you refer to his body on top of yours, buried inside of you still.

“We need to clean up,” One of his thumbs runs over your cheek.

You know he’s going to stay when you feel him softening inside of you. You run your hand through the hairs that tickle the back of his neck.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you more.” Mingyu coos at you and you swat at him.

“So corny,” his honeydew laugh graces your ears once more.

The two of you lay with each other for as long as you possibly can. It isn’t long before he’s pulling out and lazily sucking at your clit to spur you on again, though.

would y’all believe this started as a seungmin piece 💀 over that phase of my life—onto mingyu now!

[taesjpq]

[taesjpq]

LIKES FOR YOU (PAGE) ౨ৎ kim mingyu

౨ৎ just because you blocked mingyu after the breakup doesn't mean he can easily give up on you. luckily, he knows you follow those initials slideshow accounts run by 13 year olds.

contents ex! mingyu x f! reader smau (oh brother this guy STINKS) romance comedy exes to lovers mentions of beer🤤 cliffhanger...

from rianca, heavily inspo by my bff who plans on winning back her man (i hate this man btw but i will support whatever my queen kayama does 🙏) ALSO DID U GUYS HEAR THAT QUAN MILLZ IS MAKING A MOVIE FOR THIS HOE GOT ROACHES IN HER CRIB!!

svt masterlist .ᐟ

[taesjpq]

just like this - kim mingyu

warnings: none

pairings: kim mingyu x reader

genre: best friends to....??

wc: ???

a/n: some soft gyu 😬

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

mingyu doesn't hear the door to his apartment beep unlock, & he doesn't hear the door to his room opening. but mingyu shuffles in bed slightly when he feels a warm arm wrap around his own. he almost doesnt know who it is, until he does. then, he feels your leg go over and wrap around his own's; spooning him from behind.

taking advantage of him shuffling slightly to adjust better so you'd get more comfortable, you quietly whispered from behind, "gyu, it's me." as you nudge your face into the crook of his neck just a little more, getting comfortable, ready to drift off.

mhm, he hums, "I know," he answers softly.

then, a beat later, "couldn't sleep?" he asks quietly.

"i had a bad nightmare and couldn't fall back asleep since 1am" the exhaustion and slight fear still laced in your soft voice.

mingyu simply turns around completely, facing you. his eyes open slowly, still heavy with sleep, but he doesn't miss the way you looks so small in his hoodie. "turn around," he says, "I'll cuddle you to sleep."

you turn around and mingyu shifts closer, his chest flush against your back, his arm reaching around you, pulling you impossibly closer towards him. he shifts you slightly again, tucking his arm under your neck as your head rests against his pillow.

it's only then that mingyu's heart starts to stutter and speed up when he takes in a deep breath; the scent of your shampoo from earlier today mixed with a scent that's so sweet. it's unmistakably you, just your scent. "do you want to talk about it?" he offers, while the arm around you starts loosely tracing reassuring mindless circles in a small attempt to calm you.

"maybe in the morning," you utter back, "or maybe next week, or next month when i have enough courage to talk about it." you added with a sigh.

"the dream was that bad?" his eyebrows furrow slightly in concern.

mhm, you hum back, "something like that."

"tell me," he pushes; determined to make you feel better. "at least tell me who or what it's about." he adds.

after a minute too long, when mingyu thinks you've already fallen asleep, he hears you whisper so softly, "you." almost as if it wasn't meant for him to hear.

mingyu wonders if he should push it, if he should ask further. but the gnawing at his heart doesn't want to let go. if its a bad dream about him, surely he can make you feel better. right?

"what did I do? what happened?"

again, you went silent for a minute & mingyu wonders again if you've fallen asleep. but then you push yourself back towards him. your hand reaching for the his; the one drawing circles around your arm, intertwining your fingers with his. "you fell in love." you said a little louder this time.

mingyu's heart sinks to his stomach as anxiety starts to flow through his veins, his warm hands suddenly turns sweaty and starts to feel clammy around you, "with you? is that so bad?"

mingyu feels your hand tighten around his own, your thumb starts tracing circles around the back of his hand where they rest as they intertwine. "no..not bad at all. just. you didn't fall in love with me." you confessed, "you fell in love with someone else." your chest rises significantly as you take in a deep, heavy breath.

"would you have wanted me to fall in love with you instead?" your best friend asks.

"goodnight mingyu," you say, "im tired."

mingyu doesn't answer. but he wonders if you can feel just how fast his heart is beating against your back; still flushed against him.

"i love you." he says against your hair.

you don't know what he meant. he loves you...as a friend, right? probably so. how could it be anything but?

"i love you too." you answer, & mingyu too, doesn't know what it meant. as a best friend? or did you love him the way he does? the way.. you wanted him to fall in love with you too? or in the way him falling in love with someone else in your dream was so terrifying you had to come over and sleep next to him in your arms at 3am?

tomorrow. mingyu thinks to himself. tomorrow he will ask. & tomorrow he will tell you. just how terrified he is of you falling in love with someone else just the same.

& maybe tomorrow, you'd both be able to sleep soundly at night. just like this, in his bed, in his arms, in his clothes. just like this. but maybe, hopefully, with both your love out loud.

[taesjpq]

could i request for older brother scoups smau?

TEXTS WITH OLDER BROTHER!! SEUNGCHEOL

ps thank u noonie for the request this was so fun to make hehe

[taesjpq]

can't believe I have to write what I want to read

[taesjpq]

part 2 of jealousy is online again!!

[taesjpq]

pretty boys, nerdy boys

reblog if using!

[taesjpq]

[250716] Gimpo Airport Departure -> Japan

Phantom 406 🐕 don’t edit/crop logo.

[taesjpq]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐟𝐭 𝐤.𝐦𝐠

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

semi-side-pairing: reader and seungcheol have an on-and-off friends with benefits relationship that has ended

summary: you’ve known mingyu since college, and after he stood you up in second year, you’ve never gotten along - good thing you’re stuck sharing a room at a destination wedding party.

And when you do try to get away from one another - too bad that you both decide to go on a long hike, get rained on, and stuck in yet another room with only one bed.

genre: only one bed, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, mentioned fake dating, second chance, slow burn, yes - everyone is an attorney - sorry

word count: 11.5k

if you want to read this broken into chapters, here it is on ao3

warnings: explicit language, mentioned smut (not described in detail), foreplay, mentioned drinking , mentioned therapy

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

“Seriously, why did they decide this was a destination-level thing,” you complained to Seungcheol from the passenger’s seat. 

You were driving to a B&B like seven hours from the city because your friends were hosting a weekend for the wedding party. It was meant to be nothing but rest and relaxation. And like two very normal people with very normal schedules that didn’t at all prevent a social life, you’d agreed to be Seungcheol’s fake date for the weekend and probably for the wedding too. 

“Because they think it’s cute and a nice way to thank their friends for showing up to all this wedding shit,” he mumbled. 

You laughed, knowing he would rather be in his apartment rewatching some sad movie and texting a certain someone than driving to the mountains for the one weekend he’d requested off in four months. 

And you - you would be happier doing literally anything. Because for you, there was one major problem with the weekend. The wedding party included one person you had carefully cut out of your life since college and law school. And this weekend meant you couldn’t avoid him. 

You chewed your lip lightly, staring out the window. “You know we have that filing deadline, right?”

“I’m not working this weekend,” he said it like he was manifesting the end times, “I’m playing golf with people who couldn’t care less about what firm I’m at, and I’m drinking whatever I want, and I don’t care that we’re sharing a room because we’ve both seen each other naked enough times that to be honest you’re like the furniture to me, so I have no impediments, just me and golf and liquor that isn’t clear,” he said it so seriously. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, come next week, I should expect to see you looking very hung over and miserable during mediation?”

He nodded. “Fuck yes, you should,” he said with a grin. 

You hummed in response. “Definitely on that partner track, aren’t you?” 

“Shut up - at least I’m not trying to hide behind work because I can’t get along with others,” he shot back. 

You stared with wide eyes, “Oh, don’t even start that!” You snapped. 

He was still grinning. “You know it’s true - you can’t play nice with Mingyu, and”—

You cut him off. “No, no, excuse me - I can’t get along, me? no - he can’t get the fuck over some shit from like Freshman year, that’s not my problem,” you said adamantly. 

Seungcheol nodded. “Umhm, right, we both know it was sophomore year, and you’ve never escalated whatever it is in any way, like I don’t know, throwing a drink in his face?” He asked, still grinning like a fucking idiot. 

“You’re such a bitch - don’t bring that up,” you said, swatting his arm. “The whole point of us coming together is no one asks either of us about our personal lives, you know - as in you don’t have to explain that clerk for the district court you keep happening to see every Saturday…” you trailed off suggestively. 

He pursed his lips. “Fine, I won’t say anything about Mingyu, and you don’t mention him.”

You laughed. “You should have just marked plus one, I don’t think anyone cares,” you said, genuinely meaning it. 

Like all of his friends, you just wanted Seungcheol to be happy. Besides, Jeonghan was the only person you’d ever seen Seungcheol truly lose his mind over. They were insanely cute together. 

And you hadn’t spent any amount of time helping Seungcheol with his texting game - he literally ran almost every message by you for a month. If he were anyone else, you would have pushed him out a window. But he wasn’t, so you had helped.

He sighed. “Are you really going to work?”

You shrugged. “It’s a good, plausible excuse. Besides, the only thing I’m really into are the massages anyway. So, that leaves what, 70 hours of free time that could be billable?” You asked with a snort. 

“Fuck, you actually are thinking about the partnership shit, aren’t you?” He asked, glancing over. 

You gave a shrug. You hadn’t been, but then you won a few pitches, and the cases had blown up. Now all the talks felt a lot more serious. “Maybe,” you said with a groan. 

You were quiet for a moment. “So is Mingyu bringing someone?” 

Seungcheol snorted. “Seriously, why couldn’t you wait until after we were there to ask?”

You stared at him. “What? Why?”

“Because now I owe Jeonghan dinner and the satisfaction of knowing he maybe knows my friend better than I do, apparently.” 

You laughed. “Oh my god, you should just start planning where you two are registering now.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “If I say stuff like that - I can’t say stuff like that, we’ve barely dated,” he mumbled. 

You shook your head. “So silly, just buy him flowers and an insane ring and ask him to be Kkuma’s other dad,” you said with a smile. 

You did actually mean it. Even if you had a history with Seungcheol, something you’d made him promise to tell his new beau about in full. 

You’d been friends with benefits at various times and were even fairly intense about one another a few times. 

But now, you were just friends. 

You had known that just by the way Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan, anyone with eyes would know that literally no one else could mean as much to Seungcheol. No one else stood a chance. 

He shook his head. “Just, please don’t throw drinks or make a scene,” he mumbled. 

You sighed. “I promise to avoid him, okay, just like I have been for like two years,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you stared out the window. 

Seungcheol made a humming sound from the driver’s seat like he didn’t exactly believe you.

No matter, it was the only plan you had. And even if it meant skipping things that weekend, you really didn’t care. Because things between you and Mingyu had a tendency to escalate really quickly. You couldn’t even play beer pong with him. 

That was what Cheol was on about - the fact that what should have been a totally friendly match where you and Mingyu had been paired together had become so acrimonious that you had, in fact, thrown a pitcher of beer in his face before it ended.

Seungcheol was being nice by implying it was semi-normal and only a cup - it wasn’t a cup. It was an entire pitcher. And unlike Mingyu, you had great aim, even when you were drunk as fuck. And you could still remember the absolutely shocked look on his face, too. 

There were very real reasons you had avoided him for so long. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

“Is she really coming?” He’d asked Seungcheol when they met for lunch the week before. 

Seungcheol had rolled his eyes. “Does it matter?”

Mingyu had poked his salad and sighed. “Does she still hate me?” He tried again, thinking about how you had seemed, maybe, a bit softer around him lately. 

Mingyu was very aware of the fact that his friends were also your friends. He knew that whenever there was some Saturday when they were all busy, they were busy hanging out, he just wasn’t invited, and hadn’t been in a long time. 

But on the flip side, there were all the times they hung out with him and not with you. That was cold comfort, though, because he kind of hated the way you’d managed to cut him out of your life so easily. 

Seungcheol let out a long sigh. “Dude, are you seriously asking me about y/n? We aren’t in college anymore - if you want to talk to her, then just do it,” Seungcheol said as he stabbed pasta onto his fork. 

Mingyu swallowed hard. “I’m only asking if I should even bother, like you two are close,” he mumbled. He fully knew just how close you and Seungcheol were, too. He’d always been jealous because everything seemed so easy between you two - so easy for Seungcheol to be close to you. 

But with Mingyu, you always seemed to be on your guard. Ready to go on the defensive at the drop of a fucking feather. 

Seungcheol sighed. “It’s our friends’ wedding thing - dude, what about that says ‘let me try to work out my personal issues with someone who knows exactly how to set me off’?” He was staring hard at Mingyu. 

“I’m not - it’s”—

Seungcheol cut him off. “Look, you know she avoids you, so maybe just respect that - to her, it solves whatever issues there are between you two, okay, and I don’t have some special insight. She doesn’t talk about you, not with me, not with anyone else we know, just drop it,” he finished. 

And Mingyu didn’t press the subject. Because after that, Seungcheol’s voice just replayed in his head, ‘she doesn’t talk about you.’ He’d said it so matter-of-factly, too - his voice pointed and sharp. 

Mingyu definitely wasn’t still thinking about it that Saturday morning. He’d decided to do what Seungcheol had said: he would stay away from you. 

He was answering emails in the car on the way. Joshua and Seokmin kept telling him that he needed to unplug. 

“Seriously, Seungcheol said y/n is basically working the whole time - there can’t be two of you being completely dull,” Joshua declared. 

Mingyu sighed, “I’m trying to answer them all now, so I can shut down for the weekend,” he said with a shake of his head. 

“Good! Now, if Seungcheol can just work his magic on y/n, we can actually have a good weekend.” Seokmin added. 

Joshua laughed. “Only if a ‘good weekend’ includes seeing Mingyu and Y/n get into a bitch fight,” he said with a smirk as he glanced in the rearview window, catching Mingyu’s eye.

Mingyu just shook his head, trying to focus. He didn’t want to think about the “beer incident,” and he definitely didn’t want to think about what magic Seungcheol could possibly work on you. He would never admit how much it annoyed him that you always came to events as a couple. 

Because it wasn’t just events with friends, it was work functions, too. Your firms worked together on a lot of cases, so it was three holiday parties at the very least where he got reminded of you and Seungcheol together. 

He hated that he couldn’t just be happy for either of you. But he couldn’t. To him, you should at least be with someone who was serious about you. And that had never been the case with Seungcheol. Not in Mingyu’s mind anyway. 

He chewed his lip and kept responding to emails and chats. He just needed to keep himself distracted. Or at least that was what he thought. 

But apparently, nothing was in his favor that day. 

The B&B had some issues with booking. That was thing number one. Somehow, Mingyu didn’t have a room. And there were no extra rooms because the entire place was booked fully. 

He was trying to figure out who would maybe share with him, which was not really working since most people had a roommate already, and the majority were couples, looking to do ‘couple’ things. 

He was still texting desperately when he saw you arrive with Seungcheol. He watched as you got out, and he saw Seungcheol help with your stuff, and then he watched Seungcheol leave, which was weird. 

Mingyu just stared. But then it popped in the group chat - Seungcheol was seeing someone, and whoever it was, was sick - he was headed back home. Mingyu stared at his phone for a full minute because, since when had Seungcheol started seeing someone who wasn’t you that seriously, he wondered. 

He saw you check in, get your room keys, give your bags to the bellhop, and head for the elevator. You barely glanced at him. 

But he was just desperate enough to do something really stupid. 

“Y/n,” he called out. 

You turned, looking shocked to see that it was just him there. 

He waved. “Uh, can we talk?”

He watched your brows shoot together questioningly - no, it was worse, you looked like you’d just stepped in something gross, at best. 

You started to give him the brush off - he knew that’s what was coming. 

“Please,” he tried to put as much pleading and begging into his voice as he could manage. 

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed. “Fine, but can we at least go to the cafe?” 

He nodded. 

You let the bellhop take your bags to drop off in your room and followed Mingyu into the cafe. He sat at a table while you ordered coffee or whatever. He drummed his fingers lightly on the table, feeling nervous, more than nervous - it was like all of his anxiety dreams rolled into one. Because this wasn’t supposed to be happening. It might be an improvement if he were suddenly somehow naked. He sighed, hating his stress dreams and this moment.

He wasn’t supposed to be talking to you, much less asking what he was about to ask. 

You sat down across from him with a sigh. “What’s wrong?” You asked, straight to the point. 

He was taken aback for a split second but recovered quickly. “I, uhh, I need to ask a favor,” he said with a sigh. 

You shrugged. “Okay, what?”

He chewed his lip lightly. “Um,” he stared at the table, knowing this was insane, “uh, the booking system is, I don’t know - look, could I stay in your room?” He was speaking too fast. Even he could hear the way he fumbled certain words. 

You were quiet, though. He glanced up to see you watching him like you were considering what he’d asked. “Let me guess, no one else has a couch or a floor they’re willing to give up?” You asked, voice frosty. 

He swallowed. “Do you think I would be asking otherwise?”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, sorry, of course, I’m the last person you would ever want to ask, what was I thinking,” you said it as though you hadn’t spent time purposefully ignoring his existence. 

He sighed. “You avoid me, so let’s not pretend I’ve set the tone.”

You scoffed. “Right. Sure, it’s nothing to do with you or anything you did.” You shook your head in annoyance, glancing away from him. 

You were both silent for a few awkward moments. But that wasn’t new. He wondered how he could have possibly thought anything had changed between you in the lst few months of working on the same nightmare case.

And then you went on. “Um, you know what, fine, you can share, but don’t bother me this weekend - don’t wake me up, don’t touch my stuff, don’t even look at me,” you said with a forced smile and got up. You tossed a key card to him and left. 

He stayed where he was. It was the least auspicious start to any weekend ever. He swallowed tightly, shaking his head. 

At least he had a room. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You walked into your room, staring around. For once really hating Seungcheol and his new ‘I’m in love’ whatever bullshit. 

You flopped on the bed with a groan. That wasn’t really true. You were glad for Seungcheol. You were glad he’d found someone he would drop everything for and rush off to take care of because they were sick. It was stupidly cute. 

You were just frustrated that somehow it left you as the only person with enough room to share with Mingyu. And you had to, didn’t you? Because if you didn’t, you’d be the asshole. 

You tried to think of all the stupid things advertised as local attractions. There was some really long hike. You could do that - be off the grid, out of the hotel, and away from Mingyu. Just a pleasant 28-mile hike that had weirdly caught your eye as maybe an option for how to spend the trip. 

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing because you had planned for worse than this - you had all the shit to go on this dumb hike. You let out a deep breath and turned onto your side. 

You stayed that way until you heard a soft knock on the door. You’d no idea how much time had passed. 

You didn’t answer it. He had a fucking key card. And maybe if you just pretended to be dead or something, he would work around you. 

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to look asleep. You couldn’t care less if it were believable or not. You promised not to make any scenes. And this was the best you could think of given the circumstances. 

You heard the door open and what you assumed were Mingyu’s footsteps. There was the sound of a bag dropping. A jacket being removed. 

You didn’t move. You tried not to breathe even. 

He walked around quietly. You could guess he was looking for some option besides the bed. But you’d already looked. 

The sofa was too small for you, much less him. The floors were hardwood. You almost laughed when he opened the balcony door and a gust of cool wind gusted in. 

You sighed. “I called down for more pillows,” you didn’t see him jump at the sound of your voice. “We can just make a barrier down the middle.”

He stared at you. And shook his head. “I can sleep on the couch.” It was a massive fucking lie, but he wasn’t in the mood to negotiate the amount of bed space he needed with you. 

You groaned and sat up. “Really?” You asked. 

He nodded. You looked like you were ready to laugh in his face. “Okay, just for fun, let’s pretend you aren’t as tall as you are, please, demonstrate,” you said, tossing him a pillow. 

He stared at you in disbelief. “Look, I’m just trying to do what you asked,” he said, squeezing the pillow lightly, trying to not be flustered. 

You rolled your eyes in exasperation. “And we both know I was being massively unreasonable and kind of a twat downstairs, right?”

He kept his face neutral. Even if he agreed with everything you’d just said. 

You shrugged and continued, assuming he agreed. “So, given that, yeah, there aren’t any amazing options. But at least be realistic. You can’t fit on that sofa, I can’t fit on that sofa, therefore, we’re left with the option I initially outlined, so just agree and make this easy.”

He just nodded. “Okay, if you say so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just, look - if neither of us makes it weird, then it’s fine. There’s activities or whatever, and I have work, so we’ll barely see one another,” you said and flopped back onto the bed. 

He chewed his lip lightly. “Right,” he agreed. You’d barely see him, and you’d be happier for it.

There wasn’t anything official planned on the first night, and he still had work to finish. So he sat on one side of the bed while you sat on the other. You briefly talked with him to place an order with room service. 

When the extra pillows showed up, you made a very serious divider down the center of the bed. 

And everything about it annoyed him much more than he expected. He’d never really gotten how things had gotten to the point they had between you and him. You’d actually been friends to begin with. 

Good friends even. At least he thought so. And he liked you, still. Nothing seemed to quite extinguish that flame for some reason. No matter how shitty things seemed between you. 

But then something changed between you and him in a way he’d never been able to fix, exactly. And it was like you couldn’t stand him overnight. And the worst part was that you knew exactly how to make him irrationally angry in the span of maybe ten seconds. You knew just what to say to get under his skin, and you did, often. It wasn’t good for either of you. Because he knew what to say to you, too. And it only got worse from there. 

Your mutual friends had gone from thinking it was some crush thing to rarely inviting you both to things. You even stopped hanging out with them altogether for a few semesters. And he knew it was his fault, something he had done. 

He got ready for bed before food even arrived. He put in his headphones and started watching something on his phone. He glanced up once to see you still typing away. 

Dinner came and went. He was under the covers early. The bed was at least comfortable, and he was very clearly on his side of the pillow barrier when he passed out. 

The problem was when he woke up. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[rewind : fourth year in college - soccer team vs. cross country beer pong games]

Mingyu couldn’t believe he’d been partnered with you. It was all down to the bracket system they used - you were the best from the girl’s soccer team and he was the best from the guy’s team. 

It didn’t change the fact that he didn’t even want to stand next to you. You’d hated him for no good reason since second year. Because he had wanted to apologize, but you ignored him. 

That wasn’t his fault.

And no one ever seemed to know why, except maybe Seungcheol. He seemed to know absolutely everything about you. And he’d never say anything. 

Even if he just treated your relationship like some hookup bullshit. You were always up each other’s asses. 

You walked over with a pitcher of beer to set up cups for the side. You glanced at him. “You okay?” You asked. 

“Yeah, fine,” he mumbled. He knew you didn’t actually care how he was. 

You set the cups up and left to get your own drink. You never played while drinking beer. You always had a mixed drink. But you had insane aim no matter what you were drinking. He tried to think about the fact that, playing with you, you two would definitely win. The other side was shit. 

But he couldn’t stay positive about it. You bothered him. You had bothered him for a long time now. The way you always seemed to duck past him or swerve around him. You dodged texts and invites. You treated him like he was invisible. 

And to him, it was totally unwarranted. Like one fucked up text chain, and you acted like he vanished off the face of the planet. You went scorched earth over what was basically a mistake on his part. 

You were so calm about it, too - one thing happened, and suddenly you just removed him from your life like he’d never mattered. 

That was the part he hated and rarely admitted. That was the part that hurt. 

He’d never even gotten to apologize. 

Instead, it just went from bad to worse to very ugly between you two. 

The game opened, and you went first, sinking a shot in one of the opposing side’s back cups. He watched you grin, not at him, not at your fucking teammate, but you immediately looked to Seungcheol who was next to you. 

“Nice, babe,” Seungcheol said as you grinned at him, barely out of his grasp for even a moment. 

Mingyu rolled his eyes and took his turn when it came. He took out some of their closer cups. The cross-country team was behind even in the first round. 

And every time he glanced over to see you waiting around by sitting in Seungcheol’s lap on the side, he couldn’t help the gross feeling in his gut. The two of you together were disgusting. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another. And it wasn’t just him who thought it was too much. 

Besides, who didn’t just ask someone out. He asked people out. 

But he was also normal. 

You were next to him, getting ready to throw when he said it. “He’ll never fucking date you, you know? You’re not his type,” he whispered. 

You glanced at him and shook your head as you threw the ping pong ball. “Yeah, well, I don’t think what he and I do is any of your fucking business, so just shut up and play through.” You left him standing alone for his turn. 

He pursed his lips and missed for the first time that night. 

It kept going like that, you making every shot while he missed almost every one of his. He wasn’t focused on the game. 

It’s when he called you something like “easy” and a “bitch” that you snapped. He didn’t even see it coming; he just felt the sudden rush of cold beer flowing down his face, into his eyes, soaking his hair, rushing down the collar of his shirt and back, soaking through the fabric. 

And then you threw your actual drink in his face. “You’ve always been a whiny bitch, and I thought we could get passed that for a moment, but yeah, stay the fuck away from me,” you’d said it with this crystal clear rage that cut through every other noise in the room. 

Everyone had looked at him. And then they’d started to whisper. He’d shaken his head and shrugged. “We forfeit, I guess.”

He glanced at Seungcheol just to realize he looked as surprised as Mingyu felt. But unlike Mingyu, Seungcheol could actually go after you. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

Mingyu woke up completely wrapped around you. Apparently, pillow barriers meant absolutely nothing to either of you because you were just as tangled with him as he was with you. 

He had no idea what to do. 

He could feel your breath against his skin. You were flush against him - your legs twined with his. If he knew you didn’t virtually hate him, he would have been happy to wake up with you like this. Instead of waking up feeling nothing but guilty, like he was stealing something. 

He moved, not a lot, just enough for you to turn in your sleep. He was careful when he rolled back to his side and when he put the pillows mostly back into place. He felt like you wouldn’t want to know that it had even happened. 

Besides, he needed to get up anyway. 

The only thing he really wanted to try at this point was the hiking trail that led to this little lodge place. The lodge was the head of a huge trail that took like months to do. He just wanted to do the lead-up trail, plus if he stayed at the lodge, then he wouldn’t be killing your mood. 

He had no idea that you’d definitely woken up before him in a similar panic at the way you and he had demolished the pillow barrier during sleep. Not to mention the embarrassing way you were pressed against him. 

He also had no idea that you sat up to get dressed for the exact same hike the moment he closed the door. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[rewind : second year in college - being stood up]

You and Mingyu were definitely friends, even if he caused some issues on the girl’s soccer team. 

You were the team captain. And it did annoy you that he had dated like half the team by your second year. Especially since he had a habit of deciding to dump one girl by being caught with another girl. 

You’d gotten a split lip breaking up one particularly nasty fight. 

You’d complained to Seungcheol about it, and he’d shrugged. “What do I do? I’m not his parent or something,” he said. 

“You could talk to him, tell him to stop being such an asshole,” you suggested. 

He sighed. “Look, I did kind of say something, and he’s, I don’t know, he wants attention,” he said cryptically with a glance at you. 

You groaned. “For fucks sake, I just need him to stop fucking girls on my team - move on to a sorority or something - they’re probably equipped for that anyway,” you sighed and glanced at Seungcheol. He was still staring at you like there was some deeper meaning to something he’d said. 

You shrugged, feeling defeated. “Thanks for trying, I guess.” You rolled your eyes and left, giving up. If Seungcheol couldn’t talk some sense into him, you really had no hope. It was way too awkward for you to bring up. 

Friends or not, there wasn’t a good way to ask him to keep his dick to himself. 

You’d left the caf and headed for the library. But on your way you’d gotten a text that was questionable at best. 

You were still staring at it when you walked to the third-floor quiet area to study. 

[mingyu]

heyyy […]

want to go out friday? 

Since when did Mingyu say ‘hey’ with extra letters, you wondered. Or ask you to hang out for that matter. You didn’t ask one another to hang out - you just saw each other at things that led to hanging out. 

And you didn’t really text exactly either. You chatted through Discord because you both gamed. That was almost always how you talked to one another. 

You stared at the message. It was weird. 

[y/n]

u ok

[mingyu]

yea ofc […]

just yk was thinking about you […]

maybe we could hang out more officially 

You rolled your eyes and left him on read. It was too weird. You cracked your textbook and decided that if he messaged again, you might respond. But you also might just screenshot it and pop it into your normal chat because maybe someone had his phone. 

You made it through most of your calc problem set before checking back. 

[mingyu]

srsly tho jel […]

hang out with me friday […]

pls

‘Jel’ was your gaming name, your gaming nickname to be more precise. The one only he used, especially when he was beating you at something and being a dick about it. Cute and dickish - that’s when he would call you ‘Jel’. 

He never called you ‘jealousmallow94’. Just like you never called him ‘gummygyu’, even if it was kind of cute. 

[y/n]

ur srsly asking 

[mingyu]

yea using the actual messages app and everything

[y/n]

who else is going 

[mingyu]

no one […]

just us

You stared harder, looking for the catch. Last you checked, Friday night, generally, was a standing party night. Plus, you felt like it was someone’s birthday weekend, too, aka, a weekend not to be missed.

You chewed your lip lightly. You’d literally just been asking Seungcheol to help rein Mingyu in, and now Mingyu was asking you out - this was too weird. You snapped screenshots and sent them to Seungcheol, asking what the texts were about, and went back to your problem set. 

[cheol]

told u […]

he wants attention

[y/n]

this isn’t attention seeking […]

it’s totally weird

[cheol]

that he has a crush on you ??

[y/n]

waHt?? […]

no he doesn’t

[cheol]

yea he does […]

i didn’t want to tell you bcz not my place yk

[y/n]

fuck off

[cheol]

he does […]

he has since like idk since he met u […]

or idk whenever u used to run wth him on the weekends […]

down bad since then ig

[y/n]

sounds fake

[cheol]

so tell him to fuck off […]

maybe he’ll get over the girl’s team then

[y/n]

wtf about fucking around with half the team would make me think anything good about him

[cheol]

and i quote “word of mouth” […]

said by two dumbasses […]

apparently taken to heart by a third dumb ass

[y/n]

srsly having a dick lowers your iq or smth

[cheol]

thanks […]

btw not proper use of iq […]

wait srry don’t u steal my notes :3

[y/n]

yeah bby ur typing is immaculate […]

even monkeys can type tho 

You flicked back to the messages from Mingyu, staring at them and wondering if they were real. If he was being real. 

You didn’t answer until later that night. You said ‘yes.’ And you agreed on a time and a movie to see. 

But something about it felt off - you couldn’t ever put a finger on it, though. It just didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if it had been last year, but to ask now was strange.

So when Friday night rolled around, you spent some time getting ready, but not too much time. You picked baggy jeans and a cardigan. You were still going to see a movie with a friend, basically. You weren’t going all out. 

You didn’t exactly think of it as a date. More like a pre-date. It was a chance to test the waters. But for some reason, you still half expected that he wouldn’t show. 

You sat in your dorm’s living room, playing a game on your phone. You wanted to be distracted from looking at the clock, from the weird nervous tension in your stomach, everything really. 

You didn’t really like Mingyu, you told yourself repeatedly. 

You thought he was cute, but that was it. 

It wasn’t serious. 

And you weren’t going on a date with him. 

None of that was real, you reassured yourself. 

What was very real was the suck ass team you’d gotten dropped into a mobile game of call of duty with and the way they were all so bad. Your score in the ranked match results was ridiculously high. 

You locked in for another match. You were focused now. You hopped from match to match. 

You hadn’t forgotten the time. Not really. 

And you hadn’t forgotten that Mingyu was supposed to come by. 

Or that you were supposed to go together. 

You hadn’t forgotten a single thing. 

It was more that every minute past the time you were supposed to meet was annoying and then just sad in a way that made you switch to only playing in ‘free for all’ matches where you kept winning by killing every other player half a dozen times. 

When you finally logged out well after midnight - you didn’t cry. You didn’t message Seungcheol. 

You just changed your gaming name and blocked Mingyu’s accounts on every platform, including his contact information from your phone. 

He was dead to you. 

And then you took a quick shower and went to bed with a show playing on your laptop. 

And you didn’t talk to him after that unless you absolutely had to. It helped that he avoided you for a few days. You had no clue if he messaged you, or called, or anything. 

And whatever, because he did move on to sorority girls. 

Apparently, he didn’t have a crush on you - he just wanted to make you feel like shit. Just like he’d made every other girl on your team feel. 

And the next semester, you and Seungcheol become a much more regular thing. Until you took a break because you met someone else. 

And then you took a break from the whole friend group. You needed it. Things were feeling too complicated. And someone new was a breath of fresh air. 

Besides, dance majors really knew how to fuck. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu didn’t realize how much he fucked up until the next day when he saw that he made a date with you, and he slightly imploded. 

He read through the messages he’d sent while drunk. He regretted them completely, not because he didn’t mean what he’d said, but because it was you that he’d asked in such a stupid way.

He’d been just confident enough to ask you out, though. And you’d literally asked if he was ‘okay’ - he should have stopped there and then. 

But he hadn’t, even though this was exactly the reason he never even tried approaching you the way he really wanted to. How could he when he knew you didn’t take him seriously - not in that way, at least. 

He was just someone to game with. And he knew it.

But somehow it was real. 

He’d asked you, and after some convincing, you’d said ‘yes.’ He didn’t know what to do with that. He tried to think of how to make it feel like something remotely special and not just another night hanging out with him. He thought about what to wear and how he would pay for things. And then he thought about screaming into his pillow because what the fuck had he been thinking to ask you out?

He sighed, knowing he would fuck it up. He’d say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. 

You always brought out his nervous side. The only time he was normal with you was when you gamed together. Somehow, talking to you through a headset was completely fine, but in person, he was not great beyond joking around at parties. He wished he knew how to talk to you.

Because, really, even gaming with you had been a fluke. You’d been looking bored at a party, and he happened to see that you were just hanging out gaming on your phone while everything happened around you. 

He’d asked what you played and for your username. You’d given it and told him that it was “the same for mobile and systems.” He’d thought it was maybe the hottest thing a girl had ever said to him. 

And it became like a ritual to play with you. 

He knew your class schedule because you almost always pinged him to play when you were finished for the day. He knew roughly when you studied, and practiced, and everything, really. You pinged him during parties, even. 

And if the party was at the house, the house that most of the soccer players shared, and you were early, you would usually pregame and play on console with him in his room, your knee bumping against his while you both tried to squeeze into his tiny ass room. 

He was insanely glad for his PlayStation and Xbox. He was less glad for the various comments he got from his friends, like when was he finally going to ask you out. That was the biggest question. The times that you had fallen asleep in his room didn’t help. 

Or when you started meeting him for early morning runs - the way you’d sometimes come back to his room and pass out with him before class, all your sweaty limbs finding their way to his - it was always then that he thought about kissing you, soft then hard, and how good it would feel to undress one another and how good the sweat would be then and the cool spray of the shower after. 

You were pure fantasy to him, warm and sweet next to him, sleeping soundly because apparently you never really slept well. 

He groaned because he knew he would fuck it up. He liked how things were, and he probably couldn’t exactly say that either without it sounding shitty. Telling you he wanted to cancel because ‘things are good’ - he rolled his eyes at himself. He’d fallen back on his bed, unhappiness setting in.

And then he had fucked it up - beyond anything even he expected. 

He’d thought playing beer pong would calm him down the day of. They were playing with shots, though, not beer. He’d passed out before you were even supposed to meet. 

By the time he came to the next day, you were gone from everything. He couldn’t even find your username to send a request in-game. And talking to you was already not something he was great at. 

It didn’t stop the way he felt or how much he wanted you. It just felt like a bruise that he kept hitting against things. Every time he saw you and Seungcheol, it ached somewhere deep inside him because it was like you’d just replaced him with someone else. 

And whenever you did talk to him, it somehow always got really out of hand. He didn’t just say the wrong things - he said things that made everything so much worse. It was like his brain had short-circuited to the point that he could only say things that made you hate him. 

Seungcheol had once told him to stop being so “obtuse” - that a phone wasn’t the way to talk to you at this point. And something about Mingyu getting his head out of his ass if he ever wanted another shot with you. 

It had been obnoxious to hear that from Seungcheol - him telling Mingyu how he should approach you was so fucking absurd, given whatever you had with Seungcheol was going on, and neither of you were especially private about it. 

But then came graduation, and even in law school, when things could have calmed down, they hadn’t. 

Instead, you and he were just painfully competitive, fighting it out for every grade as 1Ls. You’d accepted an internship with a different firm for the fall. But that didn’t stop anything because there was still the law review and who would be published first (you - he knew without looking that your topic was more interesting), and who would be editor (him - fuck you for getting Seungcheol to co-author an article with you), and mock trial, and everything ever.

He was always around you, in your orbit, but never allowed to get close. 

It was the most hopeless situation. 

He hated the way he never saw you. Never a message. Nothing. He didn’t even randomly get to see you around. He hated it, but the longer it went on, the more he felt like he’d lost any chance. 

At least until he decided to go hiking.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

You weren’t fully sure what compelled you to bring your hiking gear other than planning for the worst-case scenario, but you had. 

And now you were glad for it because if you hiked to the trail head, it was a solid 14 miles away from Kim Mingyu and whatever the fuck he was doing. And another 14 miles back.

You rushed to get ready because you needed to get out of the room before you suffocated. You needed to forget how warm he felt - how good he felt and how you’d missed that feeling, apparently - and all the memories it caused to come flooding back. 

You cleaned your teeth, threw your hair in a ponytail, and slapped on sunscreen. You were on a huge mission to force all those messy college memories back into their little compartments in your brain. 

You did not have time to sort through them. 

Mingyu had stood you up and never even apologized. So fuck him. 

The end. Fin. Roll fucking credits. 

You grabbed a quick breakfast sandwich, several waters, and a ‘trail’ lunch - whatever the fuck that was - and you were off. 

You barely listened when the person at the counter mentioned that another person from your group had left maybe an hour earlier. In your mind, they had to have meant another guest because there wasn’t anyone in your group you could imagine heading out at like 6:00 AM to start a hike. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu was maybe at the halfway point when he paused for a break. He wasn’t gasping or anything, but he wanted to enjoy the feeling of the trail and the forest surrounding him. 

He wasn’t just in the woods. He was genuinely alone, the trees swaying gently with a soft breeze. When he looked up, he could barely see the sky for the treetops. 

He sat on a rock just off the edge of the trail and sipped his water, trying to think about just the moment he was in. He didn’t want his mind to wander to work or you. He just wanted to breathe and soak in the surroundings.

He’d passed by another hiker in the last mile. So he assumed the sounds he heard were that person catching up with him. 

Instead, he saw you coming along, taking massive strides and staring around at the flora and fauna. 

He panicked because fuck - fuck - why - why couldn’t you be back in the hotel room sleeping or working or anything but heading directly for him.

He slid off the rock and tried to move farther off the trail. Actually, he tried to hide behind the rock, wondering to himself if he was maybe cursed.

“Mingyu?” You called in a voice that was questioning the situation, and also maybe his sanity, too, since he was hunkered down behind a rock like an idiot.

He grimaced, wondering why he hadn’t just committed to lying on the ground and covering himself in leaves to hide.

“Hey,” he called out with a sigh. He’d been caught, and there was nothing to do.

He waited for you to get closer. 

He sighed, wondering if he could run, maybe. It would have been totally blind and really dumb, but in the moment, the potential of sliding off the edge of the trail and down the mountainside seemed almost preferable. 

You paused, hands on your hips, to look around - probably the same way that he had been marvelling in the quiet. He watched you for a moment before glancing away. 

“It’s amazing, right?” You asked, voice soft with reverence. 

He nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, sounding dispondent. It certainly wasn’t the question he expected from you. 

You glanced at him with a skeptical look. “‘Yeah’? That’s it?” You asked with a small laugh. 

He shrugged. “I was trying to focus on it - you know, not think about my problems…” he trailed off.

“Oh, is that your oblique way of referring to me - I’m one of your ‘problems’?” You asked teasingly.

He couldn’t remember the last time you’d talked to him that way - the last time you had been actively joking with him. Instead of the toneless responses he’d become used to. 

He shrugged. “Maybe,” he answered, feeling a warmth in his cheeks as he admitted it.

You sighed and kicked at the ground. “Want me to walk ahead then? Leave you to not think and all that?” You asked, voice gentle.

He was on the verge of saying ‘yes’, but then he saw a couple of younger guys passing. They were moving at a faster pace, but it didn’t stop either of them from glancing a beat too long at you. 

Mingyu had the urge to grab your arm and pull you closer. His mom would be pissed to know he let anyone he knew go walking off alone on a mountain top. Especially a girl alone in the woods, where literally no one would hear anything happen to her. 

Between his mom’s voice and every scene from a horror movie that flicked through his head, he couldn’t not hike with you. He had no doubt you would be a final girl if you had to be, but still.

He shook his head. “No, just hang back - it’s really nice to just sit here for a moment,” he said, still watching to make sure that the guys kept walking.

You came to stand next to him. “I do have mace, you know?” You asked, seeming to have read his mind.

He glanced at you. “Of course you do,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I like being prepared.” You mumbled with a smile.

He shook his head. “Yeah, but there are two of them, and one of you, and this isn’t a marked trail, so maybe we should stick together?” He suggested, stealing a quick glance at you.

You nodded, though. “Probably smart,” you murmured. 

You sat on the rock with him for a while, taking photos of the trees and basking in the soft sounds of the forest. You and he were both fairly quiet, which seemed right for the moment, at least to Mingyu. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You sat staring up into the trees, wondering if this was just the universe’s fucked in the head plan to put you and Mingyu together until you snapped or fucked. Some twisted cosmic gameshow, you thought. 

Glancing at him, you almost hoped it was the latter option.

But you could always settle for snapping, especially when you felt the first drop of rain hit your cheek. You blinked slowly as you wiped it away. 

And then the drops started to come more consistently. You glanced at Mingyu. “Seriously?” You asked.

“It’s not like I did it,” he whispered, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

You shook your head, hearing the snapiness in his voice that you had become accustomed to - it hadn’t always been like that between you and him. But maybe he was so used to you sounding exasperated with him that it didn’t leave room for much else. Maybe he was just as tired of your attitude as you were. 

You sighed. “I know - I didn’t mean it that way,” you mumbled, pulling a jacket from your pack. You had prepared for this hike more than you wanted to admit - it had been your exit strategy once you knew Mingyu was on the guest list. 

Seungcheol had been a bit too into reconciliations lately, dropping little, not-so-subtle hints. You assumed it was just him being in his lovey-dovey, heart-eyed state because of Jeonghan. 

So you had planned this as your getaway because he wouldn’t be paying attention while he was golfing, and if your best friend got a little too annoying, you could just wander off into the wilderness.

You glanced at Mingyu questioningly as you pulled on your jacket. “Where’s yours?” You asked, actually concerned. 

He shrugged. “This wasn’t exactly on my dance card,” he said plainly. 

You pursed your lips, digging through your bag for the spare poncho you had because ‘just in case’ was basically your motto. You tossed it to him. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, almost looking surprised at the kindness. But it was exactly the first time you had done something lately that suggested maybe things between you and him were finally thawing. 

Like during the last set of depositions, when you knew he couldn’t leave to get lunch, you’d brought him something. And maybe it was something you knew he liked too - it wasn’t a big deal that you knew what he liked to eat when he was stressed. 

Or when it was obvious he was dealing with the asshole partner from his firm and all that came with that, you’d passed him some questions you’d been saving for your cross - he looked too rattled and sleep deprived to come up with his own. He’d been surprised by the gesture, but you’d shrugged and chalked it up to ‘we’re on the same side.’

In all fairness, the poncho was utilitarian, not cute, and definitely not stylish. Therefore, distinctly not ‘Mingyu.’ You had to help adjust it. 

“Stop moving,” you whined, trying to fix it in the back so it fit under his bag the right way.  

“I’m not moving,” he complained. 

The result was him looking sort of cute despite the nature of the poncho. 

The rest of the hike was an absolute slog. 

You were both wearing shorts - your legs, at least, were freezing. And your toes were starting to feel a bit chilled from walking through so many puddles. Even if your boots were waterproof, the water was still cold and wasn’t drying. 

You didn’t even ask Mingyu if he was miserable. All you had to do was glance back at him. He looked like he regretted his entire life. Even when you were only a mile out from the little camp-whatever-thing, there was no smile from him when you announced how close you both were to shelter. 

You were stuck with the grim edition of Kim Mingyu. It was the rarest edition, though, and that was something. It took a lot to see misery take over his naturally optimistic disposition. 

You sighed quietly and stopped to wait for him - you didn’t want to get too far ahead. “Are you like dying?” You asked and grabbed his sleeve, tugging him along, tired of the distance. 

“Yes,” he whined, “this is fucking miserable,” he grumbled.

You groaned. “Yeah, well, what did they tell us fifty thousand times? ‘Get comfortable being uncomfortable.’” You said it in an obnoxious sing-song way that made even you hate you.  

Luckily, you had booked a room large enough for two people because you always did. You always picked the rooms with more space because who wouldn’t - it was so obvious, at least to you. 

You checked in and got your key. When you glanced back at Mingyu off to the side, soaked and pathetic, he really did look like the saddest puppy - he could almost be in an ASPCA commercial. 

You couldn’t help yourself and quickly snapped a photo of him before he could notice. 

You told yourself it was to send to Seungcheol later. Even as you hit the little ‘heart’ on the photo, so it would be easier to find in your camera roll. 

“Come on,” you said with a sigh, grabbing his sleeve again and leading him along towards yet another room with only one bed.

The irony was not lost on you. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu was exhausted and wet and cold. 

And you would not let him rest. 

He barely made it in the room before you were handing him a towel and gently shoving him back down the hall towards the showers. He was surprised when you walked into the same one as him, but he realized it was a unisex space. 

Still, you being naked one stall over from him, passing him soap and shampoo and conditioner like it was just any other day, was just the cherry on this fever dream sundae. 

Worse was getting back to the room with you just wrapped in a towel that was just big enough, and you telling him to close his eyes so you could change. 

He fell back onto the bed, assuming he was allowed to do that now. He could have fallen asleep, but you tossed clothes at him. 

He sat up, knowing they were his. “Did you go through my bag?” He looked at you questioningly. 

You just shrugged. “You’re like passed out, so I was trying to help,” you said it nonchalantly, like it was a pure fact. You had unquestionably dug through his bag.

But he was tired. He didn’t care. 

And he didn’t immediately move. You said something about going to get food, so he just waited until he heard the door open and close to finally get dressed. 

He put his towel over the back of one of the chairs in the room and grabbed yours off the floor, doing the same. 

He glanced around, deciding that it wasn’t the worst room. There was a bed, a small table, heater, aircon, mini-fridge, and a sink with a mirror. It was decent for a room that was sort of at the top of a mountain. 

He would have passed out, but you came back just in time with food and drinks. You had sandwiches and ramen somehow. No, he thought, it wasn’t ‘somehow’, it was probably that you’d brought it along because you planned for shit like this. He knew you - you always had a plan. 

And he was very grateful that you were sharing with him - again. 

“Where’s your phone?” You asked before you sat down.

He shrugged and pointed vaguely. You sighed, not your truly annoyed sigh, though. “I know you have movies and stuff downloaded,” you mumbled, already up and searching. 

You found it quickly and pulled over one of the chairs. You flashed the phone quickly in front of his face to unlock it. He didn’t even flinch. Why would he? It was just you and your need for some level of entertainment while you ate. 

He was even more grateful when all the food was gone, and you were both lying on the bed, no pillow barrier this time. Instead, there wasn’t even the pretence of extra space - there was literally just enough room for both of you on the bed. 

You were lying next to him, your back pressed flush against his chest and stomach, your head on his arm, while he had the pillow. The blanket was shared, although he imagined it would end up with you. 

He still didn’t care. 

He could finally fall asleep listening to your breathing - the thing he hadn’t been able to do in years. He didn’t like thinking of all the random naps you had taken with him during first year. How perfectly you fit next to him after morning practices - that was buried deep somewhere in his psyche. Not even his therapist could touch those memories.

Neither of you said anything as you fell asleep together. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You woke up slowly, feeling warm first, and then noticing a familiar arm around your waist. You blinked a few times, remembering that Seungcheol had gone home. 

You also never slept this well with Seungcheol. Or anyone, actually, just Mingyu. 

That was one of those thoughts you really tried to stamp out in a million different ways. It was part of why you’d started seeing Seungcheol on and off. 

Cheol was nice to sleep with, and kept some of your worst intrusive thoughts at bay. But he got annoyed with you when you just could not settle, when your foot kept wiggling under the blankets. You’d forgotten about that - those times when he would huff at you, and you would remember it wasn’t that serious and leave to go home.

And you would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, counting little dots. You hated admitting that there was something about Mingyu. Something about falling asleep next to him, even if it was a nap on the team bus, that had just felt natural - you weren’t sure what to call it. 

Even now, when you were especially desperate to sleep, you would scroll through all the blocked numbers you accumulated from telemarketers and political campaigns to the number you knew by heart. The one you knew you couldn’t dial.

The scroll was just a sanity check because did you really want to be the one to message him after all this time and all the shitty things you had both said and done - and you would stare at the number and decide that another coffee the next day would solve your problems. 

But now, here you were, lying there, letting yourself pay attention to the details. His breathing, warm and soft against your skin - his arm around your waist, holding you close - his leg tangled with yours. He was always so warm, too. 

You nuzzled closer, closing your eyes and hearing the same harsh patter of rain on the roof you’d heard the night before. There was no point in making a fuss about the situation - you were stuck here until the rain cleared. The day before had been too miserable. You couldn’t imagine the trail conditions were any more favorable. 

Plus, you’d been so cold the day before. That feeling of numb toes and cold skin was one you hated and didn’t miss from your time as a striker. 

You sighed and pressed closer to him, wanting all the warmth he was willing to share. You felt the way he squeezed you closer. More, you felt the way his fingers barely stretched to cover more of your stomach, gently reassuring you. 

You listened to the soft sounds he made as he woke up - the way he naturally pressed closer to you, like he wanted you to be the first thing he breathed in that morning. That hadn’t changed somehow - that almost natural need that you both seemed to have to be close.

That thing that neither of you had ever mentioned to one another because, thinking back, maybe you both knew what a tenuous thing it was, fragile and ephemeral.  

You waited for him to realize it was you and recoil. 

You hadn’t really contemplated what it would mean if he just held you closer. Much less the gentle feeling of his fingers tracing softly against the small spot of exposed skin just above your hip. 

You were quiet, letting your old memories run riot. 

“It’s still raining,” you murmured, not moving - you didn’t want to break whatever this was.

He hummed softly. “So we’re stuck then,” he replied, his fingers still moving in little circles against your skin.

You nodded, glancing back. “Did you tell any of them where you were going?” you asked, the thought just dawning on you.

“No,” he said, sounding surprised by the question. 

“Mmh, me either,” you whispered. 

“So they think we’re dead then?” he mused.

You laughed. “Knowing Joshua, probably, unless he checked with the hotel and knows that we both went hiking,” you paused, thinking, “oh, he definitely thinks we’re dead then,” you scoffed. 

Mingyu nodded. “It’s the most ‘Joshua’ conclusion,” he said, reaching out for his phone, leaving you to feel the chill seep in without the protection of his arm. 

You shivered. He reached for the blanket, pulling it closer to you as he turned onto his back to check his notifications. He scrolled for a few moments before sighing. “You move closer - I know you’re cold,” he offered gently. 

You were still for a moment, trying to think through the pros and cons, but you really were cold. You turned over and curled against him, feeling his arm loop around your waist while he scrolled. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu didn’t mind the way you seemed to practically work your way under his shirt after he said you could be closer. It was rare for you to be anything but cold and searching for a hoodie. Even in courtrooms, you always had some kind of wrap or scarf that was virtually a small blanket.  

There weren’t any messages from anyone that he was in a rush to respond to, so he hadn’t. Instead, he found a show that he’d downloaded too many seasons of when he was flying back and forth for a client at the beginning of the year. He was fairly certain that he’d lost at least the beginning of the year and probably all of spring to sitting around in the airport.

He was lost in thought and almost didn’t hear you when you asked if he was okay. He shrugged. “Just remembering why I have 13 seasons of a show downloaded,” he muttered. 

You hummed, seeming to understand. “What client?”

“One in L.A.,” he grumbled. He avoided explaining ‘the one I hate and imagine killing,’ though, so according to his therapist, that was progress.

“That flight is such a bitch,” you said, your voice so soft. You sat up, though, and he immediately wondered what he had done to make you move. But you were just reaching for your phone, opening apps, and, from what he could see, checking to see what you had downloaded. 

You sighed. “So murder shows, murder movies, murder documentaries that the movies are based on,” you listed them off with a raise of your brows. He wondered if you realized how close you were to him, the way you were practically sprawled across him - your face inches from his. 

“Murder shows…” He shrugged because why not - he really hated his L.A. client, and the office, and the partner there, why not see what other people did to dispatch people they couldn’t stand, he wondered. 

You glanced up at him, staring at him for a moment, your fingers tracing absently just beneath his collarbone. “So you were miserable before this case?”

He shrugged. “Am I supposed to be happy?”

You sighed, reaching out to smooth a piece of hair from his forehead. “At least some of the time,” you said gently. 

“Hmm, I think my firm is better known for burnout and high turnover,” he grumbled as he held your gaze. 

You were quiet again, watching him - it reminded him of a cat observing something it wasn’t sure about. 

And suddenly you leaned in, your lips connecting softly with his. 

He would have thought it was a mistake, but it didn’t stop - neither of you pulled away. Until you both did, breathing a bit harder, lips redder, pupils blown. 

He felt your fingers trace along his jaw as you leaned forward, your forehead touching his, your lips a breath away from his. He watched you, his breath catching at how close you were.

He felt the pad of your finger brush the corner of his mouth and move slowly to the center of his lips, teasing him. Your gaze was too soft as your finger just barely pressed against his lips - he moaned softly, and kissed your finger.

You smiled, removing your finger and leaning in again, your fingers shifting to gently hold his jaw, and your lips barely brushed his. He whined - he didn’t want to be teased - he wanted you. 

“Baby,” you murmured against his lips - your voice like honey as your lips pressed fully against his. He groaned as he squeezed your waist, realizing that he wanted you more than he had ever let himself admit. 

Your lips worked slowly against his, barely parting at first, inviting him in gently. His memories of you and his imagined scenarios seemed to meld with the present. The things that had scared him were long gone. 

Instead, he kissed you back, licking into you, tasting you, not caring if he was needy. 

When you pulled away from him, though, the way you looked at him, the way your eyes seemed to brighten. “I want you,” you whispered, your fingers still playing against his skin.

He nodded, swallowing hard, smoothing hair from your face. “I want you too,” he murmured. 

The next kiss came from him. And when he swapped your positions for the first time, he paused for a moment, grounding himself in where he was and who he was with - the way you felt. He wanted to linger there in that moment, even as he deepened the kiss, even as your thighs squeezed around his waist - he wanted to hang onto every part of it and you.

So he was purposefully slow. Slow to undress you - his hands trailing along your skin and limbs in a way that he could only hope you would understand. Slow to undress himself, even, but that was when you returned all his hesitant touches - the way you kissed him and touched him, gently holding his gaze as you did, like you had understood exactly how he had longed to have this with you. 

Nothing was rushed, and when it ended, when everything slowed, when it was just you lying there beneath him, glowing, watching him and pulling his hand gently because you wanted him close, it was everything he always wanted with you. And something he could never have given you before. 

Lying next to you, holding you close, breathing you in, he was almost asleep when he felt you shift to look at him. You kissed him. 

“Missed you so much,” you whispered as you broke the kiss. 

He nodded. “Missed you, too.”

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 ]

The rain cleared overnight, and bright, early morning sun had dried up some of the mess.

You were both quiet on the hike back, neither of you was precisely certain what the day before meant for the future.

But at least you were back in the hotel room. And the shower seemed to have endless hot water because you both took long showers. 

Mingyu had nudged you to go first, and when you were out, you made him tell you what he wanted from room service before you let him close the bathroom door.

You ordered champagne too, since you had accomplished something, after all, you’d hiked the entire 28 miles. 

You ate, and drank, and watched a random movie about a serial killer. All while snuggled in bed with him. Somehow, you were both suddenly shameless about how much you wanted to touch one another. 

The pillow barrier didn’t return. 

And even though you saw him every day the next week for the new round of depositions, there was an actual, official date planned for the following weekend. Very low key, according to Mingyu, just dinner at his place and watching movies, and the option to stay the night. 

So basically kind of a perfect plan, even if you’d spent the night with him almost every night since you’d gotten back. 

You told yourself that it was because the sleep was too good to pass up, not because you were making up for lost time. 

a/n: eee fr hope you enjoyed it ^^ long fic yayyy...not in parts yayyyyy

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒌𝒂���

♡ master list & tag list

♡ [ 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ] ★ [ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬: ( 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 ) #kat_drabbles

summer coworker [f] | happy hour | soft dom | kinky puppy | sex toy play | valentine's day | puppy play gyu | morning mingyu (cute / fluff) [f] | the one here you hate him | the one that was always lwk dating [f] | the bf to marriage one [f]

[ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

[ mingyu tag list ]

☁︎ @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] ☁︎ @coupsbestleader [e] ☁︎ @fleurloovin [e] ☁︎ @babybae-shisui [e] ☁︎ @asyre [e] ☁︎ @dcrlingyou [e] ☁︎ @yeosayang [e] ☁︎ @nanabananananabatman ☁︎ @yoongznme [e] ☁︎ @gyuhao365 [e] ☁︎ @jeonghnie [e] ☁︎ @armycarat2612 [e] ☁︎ @shuas-winnie30 [e] ☁︎ @famouspoetrydinosaur [e] ☁︎ @ateezaddict24 [e] ☁︎

☁︎ @aaronwarners69thwife [e + wips] ☁︎ @daisymbin [e + wips] ☁︎ @babilou-pov [e + wips] ☁︎ @sseungcheols [ e + wips ] ☁︎ @keyrecsfics [ e + one/multi & wips] ☁︎

☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @stupendouschildnerd [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @tokitosun [e - one/multi ] ☁︎ @lilydaisylily [e - one/multi] ☁︎

☁︎ @ninigyuuu [k.mg - e, b.f. priv] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [k.mg - one/multi, b.f.non] ☁︎ @sapphireserpens [k.mg - multi/priv] ☁︎

[taesjpq]

–ᝰ.ᐟ✮ You were never subtle about loving Mingyu. And he was never ready to love you back—Not until you stopped trying.

It wasn’t one grand gesture that changed everything. It was the way your silence hurt more than your love ever did. And maybe that’s how Mingyu finally realized… he lost something worth chasing.

pairing: mingyu x f!reader

genre: soft angst with a fluff payoff, mutual pining (but only one-sided at first), unrequited love… or so you thought, slow burn with fast feelings, idiot in love (feat. kim mingyu), emotional damage—lightly salted, redemption arc with a clumsy king, he got stung (literally and figuratively), he doesn’t get it until it’s almost gone, he starts chasing when you finally stop

word count: 4.7k

a/n: a little long gut-wrenching, heart-twisting, head-banging love story because sometimes love isnt easy... like getting concert tickets to see svt... who said thatttt

It started—stupidly enough—with Mario Kart. Mingyu had just knocked your car off Rainbow Road for the third time in a row, and you’d had enough.

You slammed your controller down, eyes narrowed. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

Mingyu blinked, all bright eyes and faux innocence. “What? Winning?”

“You pushed me off the edge.”

“You were in the way!”

“I was winning!”

“And I fixed that for you.”

You glared. “You’re actually insufferable, you know that?”

He grinned, all teeth. “You love it.”

You did. That was the problem.

You stood up abruptly, heading to the kitchen to cool off. Not from the game—from him. From the stupid way his laugh curled down your spine, from the way his hoodie sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, from the fact that being around him made your chest feel too tight and your skin too warm.

He followed you, obviously. Mingyu had the emotional awareness of a Labrador retriever—never noticed a line unless he’d already trampled across it.

“You’re really mad?” he asked behind you, voice still light, like it was a joke.

You yanked open the fridge, using the cold air as a shield. “I just don’t want to talk right now.”

Mingyu leaned against the counter. “Why are you taking this so seriously?”

“I said I don’t want to talk.”

“And yet,” he said, like he was the cleverest man alive, “here you are.”

You slammed the fridge door shut.

He flinched. “Okay, damn.”

You turned to him, chest rising and falling. “Why do you always have to push things?”

“Because that’s just how we are,” he shot back. “We fight, you get mad, and then tomorrow we’re fine.”

“Maybe I’m tired of that cycle, Mingyu.”

That quieted him. A second too long passed. “What’s your problem?” he asked then, tone different now—lower, almost defensive. “Seriously.”

You met his gaze, felt the burn of too much and not enough. And then you said it, tired, quiet, deadly honest: “You. Apparently.”

His face fell. You almost wished he’d laugh, roll his eyes, make a joke. But he didn’t. Mingyu stood there, the smile gone from his face, the line hanging between you like it was trembling.

“You don’t mean that,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I do,” you replied, and it was the worst kind of truth.

Because you meant it in all the wrong ways.

You meant he was your problem because he was in your heart all the time. Because he smiled at other people and it made you feel like you’d swallowed glass. Because he called you his best friend but kissed other girls at parties. Because you wanted more, and he never noticed.

You meant he was your problem because you couldn’t stop loving him, even if he never looked at you like you were more than someone to knock off Rainbow Road.

But you didn’t say any of that. You just stood there, the truth unspoken, and watched as he finally looked away.

“…I didn’t know you felt like that,” he murmured.

You shrugged, eyes stinging. “Now you do.”

He nodded once. “Right.” And then he left the kitchen. And you didn’t stop him.

The venue was too warm, the music too loud, and you’d been watching Mingyu from across the dance floor for twenty minutes now.

He looked good. Too good. White button-up sleeves rolled up, loose tie hanging down his chest, a dimple flashing every time someone made him laugh. He didn’t even like weddings, but there he was, making everyone else feel like they were in the middle of one of those slow-mo K-dramas where the male lead turns and locks eyes with you across a crowd.

And god help you—he did.

He saw you, smiled, and motioned for you to join him. You didn’t even hesitate. By the time you crossed the floor, he was already holding a hand out, the first few notes of a slower song bleeding through the speakers.

“Dance with me?”

You snorted. “Is that even a question?”

Your fingers slid into his like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because at this point—it was.

You'd danced with him before. Countless birthdays, one New Year’s Eve, even your prom. But this time felt different. Maybe because he was looking at you like he wasn’t sure if he should keep holding your hand. Maybe because you were done pretending it didn’t mean something to you.

So this time, you said it. While his hand rested on your waist and yours found its way to his shoulder—while the crowd around you blurred into noise and laughter and someone else’s romance—you looked him straight in the eye and said:

“You know I’m in love with you, right?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why are you—” He laughed nervously, but his grip on your waist tightened just slightly. “Why are you saying that now?”

“Because it’s true. And because you never believe me when I say it.”

You weren’t smiling. You weren’t joking. And for once, you didn’t cushion it in a tease.

Mingyu stared at you, like he was seeing you for the first time. “You’re serious.”

“I always have been.”

The song played on. His friends were laughing somewhere nearby. Someone was shouting lyrics off-beat in the background. But all you could see was him, and the way he wasn’t letting go.

“You shouldn’t keep saying things like that,” he said, voice lower now.

“Why not?”

“Because…” He shook his head, eyes dropping to the floor, “you know I can’t—”

“I know,” you interrupted, gently. “But I’m not asking you to say it back.”

He looked up.

“I’m not saying it to get something out of you,” you continued. “I just want you to know. I don’t want to pretend like I’m not in love with you anymore.”

“You’re going to get hurt.”

You smiled, soft but fearless. “I already am. But it’s fine. I’ll live.”

You could feel the crack in the air between you, something fragile and dangerous. But you weren’t scared of it anymore. Because love, even unreturned, was still love. And you were never ashamed of that.

It was Seungcheol’s party. Loud music, too many people, and the kind of night where everyone was slightly too dressed up for a “casual hang.”

You found Mingyu in the kitchen, unsurprisingly, because wherever there was food, there he’d be. What was surprising was the girl pressed up against the counter next to him, laughing a little too hard at something he said.

You paused in the doorway.

She was twirling her hair. Her hand had brushed his arm once—twice. He didn’t move away. He wasn’t leaning in either. Just… being polite. Smiling.

But still.

Your throat felt dry. You grabbed a random cup on the table (orange soda. gross.) and sipped, eyes still locked on the scene. Then she said something. Something that made him smile a little wider. And she touched his chest. That’s when you moved.

You weren’t jealous. (No. Never that.) 

You were possessive. (And maybe, just maybe, you were tired of pretending that wasn’t the same thing.)

You waltzed straight up to them, like you had every right to do it.

“Oh,” you said brightly, slipping your arm around Mingyu’s waist. “I didn’t realize we were flirting with my boyfriend tonight.”

His entire body stiffened beside you.

The girl blinked. “Wait—you’re together?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. “Crazy, right? He looks like someone who’d be emotionally available.”

Mingyu choked.

The girl gave a tight smile, clearly embarrassed. “Right. Sorry—I didn’t know.”

You smiled sweetly. “Now you do.”

She left. You turned to Mingyu and took another sip of that tragic orange soda like nothing had happened.

“…What was that?” he asked, voice low.

“Just protecting what’s mine,” you said with a shrug.

He stared. “We’re not even dating.”

You looked at him, unfazed. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Saying stuff like that.”

You tilted your head. “Because I mean it.”

Mingyu didn’t say anything. Didn’t push you away, didn’t move out of your hold. Just stood there, blinking like you’d scrambled the words in his brain.

You leaned in slightly, smiling. “Relax, Mingyu. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” And then you walked away.

You didn’t see the way he kept watching you after that. Didn’t see how his fingers twitched like they wanted to reach for yours. Didn’t know that somewhere deep down, a thought finally crept into his chest:

What if she’s not joking? And worse— What if he doesn’t want her to be?

It was a night out with mutual friends—loud bar, shared appetizers, and the kind of seat shuffling that left you and Mingyu on opposite sides of the table.

You were talking to Soonyoung about something dumb and deeply important (which dipping sauce reigns supreme) when you caught a flicker of Mingyu’s name from the group beside you.

Your ears perked up. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop. It just happened. Swear.

“He’s cute,” someone said. “But kind of… clingy, don’t you think?”

Another voice snorted. “And a little dumb. Sweet, yeah, but like. Not much going on up there.”

You froze. Your fingers tightened around your glass. It wasn’t even about the fact that they were wrong—Mingyu was sweet. He was clingy, in a golden retriever way. But he was also smart in ways people never gave him credit for. Gentle in a world that prized coldness. Loyal when others were quick to walk away.

You stood up without thinking, sliding your chair back hard enough to make a scraping sound.

Every eye turned to you.

You leaned against their table, gaze direct. “Sorry, just wondering—how many conversations have you actually had with him? Or do you always assume the worst about people who are better than you?”

The table went dead quiet. One of them blinked. “It was just a joke.”

You smiled—tight, sharp. “Yeah. That’s what people say when they run out of ways to be decent.”

Another opened their mouth, but you cut them off. “You don’t have to like him. But if you’re going to talk about someone like that, maybe make sure his friends isn’t sitting six feet away.”

You didn’t wait for an answer. You just turned, walking back to your side of the table.

And Mingyu. Was. Staring. Like you’d just flipped his entire universe upside down.

“You heard that?” you asked, sliding back into your seat like nothing happened.

He was still blinking. “You… didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t like when people talk about you like you’re not the best thing to ever happen to this group.”

His throat bobbed.

You sipped your drink. “Besides, I’ve said worse about you to your face.”

That got a laugh out of him—but it was a quiet one. Like he was trying to process something else. Something heavier. You didn’t push it. You just went back to your fries and let him sit there, reeling. But you saw the way he looked at you now. Like you’d done something irreversible. Like he didn’t know what to do with someone who’d fight for him without flinching.

Like maybe, just maybe— he didn’t deserve it. But part of him… wanted to.

The karaoke room was already humid with energy—half-sung duets, shrieked choruses, and Seungkwan demanding a redo of “Love Scenario” because someone ruined his harmony.

You were two and a half sojus deep. Mingyu was across the room, nursing a lemon soju and looking way too good in that stupid oversized hoodie. And you—dangerously unhinged with the mic in your hand.

“Okay,” you announced to the room. “This next one’s a special performance.”

Jihoon groaned. “If it’s another Taeyeon ballad I swear—”

“No,” you grinned. “This one’s a… confession, actually.”

The room collectively oohed. Mingyu raised his eyebrows from the couch.

You looked him dead in the eye, bold and loose-limbed and smiling. “Dedicated to the one and only Kim Mingyu—who is somehow still clueless after all these years.”

“What—”

But you were already cueing the song.

“Can’t Help Falling in Love.” The Elvis version. Vintage. Corny. Deadly honest.

The first note played. You swayed slightly on your feet.

🎵 Wise men say… only fools rush in… 🎵

Your voice wasn’t perfect. You missed a few beats. But you didn’t look away from him—not once.

🎵 But I… can’t help… falling in love with you… 🎵

It wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t ironic. And suddenly the room wasn’t laughing anymore.

You saw it—right then. Mingyu, sitting very still, his mouth slightly open, the flush on his cheeks rising with every note you sang.

🎵 Like a river flows… surely to the sea… 🎵

You smiled softly. God, you meant it.

🎵 Darling so it goes… some things are meant to be. 🎵

You finished the song without a single crack in your voice.

Silence followed. A few awkward coughs. A pity clap. Someone whistled. But your eyes stayed on him.

Mingyu didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared at you with that look—that deep, unreadable look—like he was rewinding every second of the past three years in his head.

You gave a mock bow and handed off the mic. Then you walked over to him, leaned down just enough for only him to hear, and whispered— “Now you can’t say I never told you.”

And you left him sitting there, heart racing, mind screaming, while the next person picked a loud song and tried to pretend nothing just shifted permanently. Because it did.

You were glowing. That’s the only way Mingyu could describe you.

Standing there in your little black top, drink in hand, eyes crinkled as you laughed at something Joshua Hong said—like he was the funniest person alive. Mingyu stood on the other side of the rooftop party, watching you laugh at someone else’s jokes and hating himself for caring.

He didn’t know when it had started.

Maybe it was the karaoke night. Maybe it was the time you told off those people for mocking him. Maybe it was the way you never once backed down from how much you loved him.

All he knew was: tonight, you weren’t looking at him. And it bothered the hell out of him.

Joshua leaned in a little closer. Said something else. You laughed again, eyes sparkling. Mingyu clenched his jaw. His friend asked something beside him, but he didn’t register it. And then Joshua reached out—touched your arm lightly.

Mingyu moved before he could think. He cut across the party, drink half-full, pulse racing with something he couldn’t name.

You looked up just as he stepped beside you. “Hey,” you said, smiling. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer you. He turned to Joshua instead. “Mind if I steal her?”

Joshua blinked, looking amused. “You two are—?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, voice flat. “She’s mine.”

The words felt foreign in his mouth. Heavy. But they were out now, and the second Joshua nodded politely and stepped away, Mingyu turned to you, the moment cracking open between you.

You raised an eyebrow. “She’s yours?”

He realized, too late, how that sounded. “I didn’t mean—well, I did—but not like that. I just…”

You stared at him, lips parted in that dangerous don’t test me way you had. “What’s your problem?”

The words were familiar. He blinked.

You stepped closer, arms crossing. “You never care when I say I love you. But suddenly you’re calling me yours the second someone else talks to me?”

Mingyu’s mouth opened. Then shut. “…I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted, voice low.

Your expression softened just a little. “It’s not your job to chase me,” you said, quieter now. “But you don’t get to be jealous if you’re not even in the race.”

And then you left him there. Again. Heart pounding. Jaw tight. Mind reeling. Because for the first time, he finally wanted to be.

It’d been a week since the party. Since you walked away from him. Since the words “you don’t get to be jealous if you’re not even in the race” replayed in his mind like a broken record that only he could hear.

And you’d gone quiet. Not cold. Not angry. Just… quiet.

Still warm, still friendly, still kind. But you didn’t reach for him first anymore. Didn’t text him random memes at 2 a.m., didn’t drag him into late-night convenience store runs or demand he try whatever new snack you discovered.

You weren’t ignoring him. You were just… living. And he was suffering. He didn’t know what to do with it—this space you’d quietly drawn between you. It wasn’t a punishment. It was just a shift. And it scared the hell out of him.

Because if you weren’t chasing him anymore… what did that make him?

You were at the café near campus, flipping through a book when he walked in, half-expecting you to call out to him like always.

You didn’t. You didn’t even look up.

He grabbed a drink anyway. Sat down across from you like it was muscle memory. He didn’t even ask.

You glanced up with a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, suddenly feeling like he was sitting across from a stranger he used to know by heart.

A beat of silence. “You’ve been busy?” he asked.

You blinked. “Not really. Just doing my thing.”

Your thing used to include him. Now it didn’t. You turned another page, unfazed.

Mingyu’s leg bounced under the table. “You… haven’t been texting.”

Your eyes flicked up again, curious. “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

He opened his mouth. Shut it. “I mean, not supposed to. Just—used to.”

You nodded slowly. “Guess I’ve just been waiting to see if you’d ever text first.”

Silence again. And it killed him. Because he hadn’t. Not once. Not really. Not unless you prompted it. Not unless you pulled it out of him. And now? He didn’t know how.

“…Do you want me to?” he asked.

You gave a soft smile. “Only if you mean it.”

You went back to reading. Calm. In control.

Mingyu sat there, staring at the rim of his cup, feeling like the entire world had tilted on its axis. Because for the first time—he felt like he was chasing you. And he didn’t even know when the race started.

It was a small get-together. Nothing fancy. Someone’s apartment. Music low, drinks flowing, people sitting on the floor or perched on counters.

You were sitting on the armrest of a couch, chatting with Jun. Of all people, of course it had to be Jun. Tall, charming, occasionally too smooth for his own good.

You weren’t even flirting. Not really. Just laughing at something he said, sipping from your can, looking relaxed and unbothered. But from across the room, Mingyu was dying. He was standing with Soonyoung, half-hearing the conversation about some new ramen spot. His eyes, though—locked on you.

You looked happy. And it hit him like a truck. He used to make you laugh like that. Used to be the one you leaned toward when something was funny. Used to be the one in your orbit—no, the center of it.

And now? You were drifting. And he was the one left behind.

Jun nudged your shoulder. Said something with a wink. You didn’t wink back—but you smiled. Bright. Easy. And Mingyu’s stomach twisted so hard he had to look away.

“What’s wrong with you?” Soonyoung asked.

“Huh?”

“You look like someone just ran over your dog.”

Mingyu blinked, then tried to laugh it off. “Nah, I’m fine.”

But his fists were clenched. His jaw was tight. His drink had gone warm in his hand.

And his heart? Pounding. Because that feeling in his chest—that low, gnawing ache?

It wasn’t annoyance. It wasn’t confusion. It was fear.

Fear that someone else was going to see you the way he should’ve. That someone else was going to chase you the way he didn’t. That someone else was going to love you out loud— and you were finally going to let them.

And worst of all? That he would only realize how badly he wanted you… when it was already too late.

It was past midnight. He stared at your contact name for fifteen minutes. You hadn’t texted him all day. No meme. No inside joke. No check-in about dinner plans or asking if he remembered to eat.

It was quiet. And Mingyu hated it. He tried everything. Showered. Cleaned his kitchen. Scrolled through TikTok. Walked his dog… twice. But his brain kept going back to that laugh you gave Jun. To the soft smile you gave anyone lately that wasn’t him.

So he caved.

[12:17am]

you up?

He stared at the bubble. Waited. No reply.

[12:20am]

couldn’t sleep. thinking about you. idk why.

That was a lie. He knew why. He’d known since the karaoke night. Since the café. Since the second you stopped chasing him. He was unraveling and didn’t know how to ask you to catch him.

[12:26am]

sorry if that’s weird. ignore me if you want.

He tossed the phone on his bed. Pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. God, he missed you. And for once, it wasn’t because you were gone. It was because you were finally standing still— and he had never even tried to meet you halfway.

Mingyu knocked on your door just before noon. You opened it, sleepy and hair messy, hoodie slipping off your shoulder. You blinked. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, voice low. “I, um…”

You raised a brow. “You good?”

“I texted you last night.”

“I saw.”

He fidgeted. “You replied.”

“Yeah. I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you.”

You stepped aside, letting him in like it was nothing. But everything in your apartment felt different now—colder, somehow, even with the sun spilling in through the window.

He sat on the couch. Watched you shuffle to the kitchen and pour cereal like it was a normal day. But it wasn’t. Not to him. “Did you mean it?” he asked suddenly.

You paused, spoon halfway to your mouth. “…Mean what?”

“That you weren’t chasing anymore.”

You set the bowl down on the counter. Turned to face him, expression unreadable.

“I never said that.”

“But you stopped.”

“I got tired,” you said quietly.

And there it was again. That same weight. The same ache in your voice that he’d been pretending he didn’t hear for weeks.

“I miss you,” he said, all in one breath. “Like—us. Talking. Hanging out. The way things were.”

You tilted your head. “What part of me do you miss, Mingyu? The one who loved you too loudly, or the one who let you get away with pretending you didn’t hear it?”

Silence. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed hard. You smiled, just a little. Bittersweet.

“I’m not punishing you,” you said gently. “But you can’t miss something you never let yourself have.”

You picked up your cereal again and walked back to the couch. Plopped beside him like nothing happened. But Mingyu? He felt like he’d just fallen through the floor. Because you were right. You always were.

And now that he wanted you… he wasn’t sure he still deserved you.

It started with the coffee. You found it sitting outside your door one morning. Still warm. Your usual order. No note. Just there.

You figured it was a one-time thing. Until it happened again. And again. The third time, you opened your door fast enough to catch him turning to leave.

“Mingyu.”

He froze. Turned, sheepish. “Hey. Uh. Morning.”

You blinked down at the cup in your hand. “Is this you apologizing or bribing me into friendship again?”

“Both?” he winced.

You narrowed your eyes. “And what are you trying to say with coffee?”

“That I remember how you take it?” he offered, voice small.

You stared.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, that sounded lame. I just—I wanted to do something. I know I don’t say things right sometimes, and I mess up a lot, and I never gave you what you deserved, and—”

“Mingyu.”

He shut up instantly.

You sighed, stepping back to let him in. “Come in before someone sees you trying to grovel in the hallway again.”

Then there was the playlist. You got the link in the middle of the night. No message. Just: “this made me think of you.”

You clicked it. The first track? “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” You almost laughed. Almost cried.

Especially when halfway through the playlist, he added a recording of himself—talking to the mic like he was on a voicemail.

“...I know you probably think this is dumb. But this is me trying. I don’t know how to do the big, movie-style thing. I just know I miss you. And I never stopped. I’m just… really late. I’m sorry I didn’t start chasing sooner. I thought I had time.”

Your chest ached.  Because it was clumsy. And painfully Mingyu.

Then there was the time he showed up with flowers—comically too large for the vase you didn’t even own—and got stung by a bee in the process of picking them because he insisted they were from “the nice tree you always point at during spring.”

You had to ice his hand and scold him for being reckless. He grinned the whole time. Even as it throbbed.

Because he got to be near you again. And he didn’t mind pain if it meant earning your trust back.

It wasn’t a smooth comeback. But you could see it in his eyes now. He wasn’t just sorry. He was scared. He was hopeful. He was learning what it meant to chase with your whole heart.

And slowly… you started to run toward him too.

It didn’t happen during a grand gesture. It wasn’t some sudden, cinematic confession under pouring rain or in the middle of a crowd.

It was quiet. It was slow. It was Mingyu.

You were cleaning up after a group dinner. The others had gone home already, the dishes were half-done, and music played faintly from your phone in the corner. He was drying plates beside you. Shoulder brushing yours. Humming off-key to some song neither of you had heard in months.

You laughed when he dropped a spoon for the third time.

He whined dramatically. “Why are spoons so slippery?”

“Why are you so useless in kitchens?”

He gasped. “Excuse me, I was being a very helpful dish elf.”

“More like a dish hazard.”

“You wound me.”

You grinned, flicked water at him. He retaliated with a soap bubble to your cheek.

And then— your laughter slowed. So did his.

You looked up. And he was already watching you. Eyes soft. Like he was memorizing the exact shade of your smile.

“Hey,” he said, voice low.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He set the towel down. Hands suddenly unsure. “Can I—” he hesitated. “Can I say something stupid?”

You arched a brow. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”

He huffed a laugh. But his gaze didn’t leave yours. “I think I loved you back the whole time,” he said. “I just didn’t know what to do with it.”

You froze. His voice—so steady, so raw—barely broke over the words.

“I thought if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be real. Or I wouldn’t lose it. But I was losing you anyway. And I hated it. I hated seeing you with anyone else, hated that I never tried when you gave me everything. And I don’t want to be that guy anymore.”

Silence. He stepped closer. One hand reaching—slowly, giving you space.

“I want to be the one who chases now. And if it’s not too late, I want to catch up to you.”

You stared at him. Eyes burning. “Mingyu—”

“I mean it,” he said, soft. “I love you.”

And this time? He didn’t flinch saying it. He didn’t take it back. He just stood there, heart wide open. You stepped forward. Wrapped your arms around his waist. Buried your face in his chest as his arms folded around you like second nature.

“You’re late,” you whispered.

“I know,” he murmured into your hair. “But I’m here now.”

And just like that—after all the times you confessed first— after every whispered “I love you” thrown into the dark—he finally said it back. And this time?

You didn’t have to chase him anymore. He was already right beside you.

[taesjpq]

hiiii! why jealousy part 2 not available?? it said post “not found” i desperately need it T^T

Hey babes!!! I made it private, for personal reasons! Im so sorry :( I know its very disappointing

[taesjpq]

I think im cooking something… just wait

[taesjpq]

thank you so much for 254 followers btw, yall incredible 🥺