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onlymingyus · 2 months

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Beautiful Liar (Teaser)

pairing; kim mingyu x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), toxic, angst, dark content, fluff

summary; Kim Mingyu's life has always been complicated, but you just add another layer. At least he is a beautiful liar.

dark content/content warnings; mafia au, murder, guns (used/sold/bought), cops, gun dealer!mingyu, mafia boss!jun (shut up), second in command/drug dealer!minghao, lawyer!wonwoo, blood, fighting/beating, drugs mentioned, smoking (cigarettes), alcohol, alludes to alcoholism, depression/anxiety, toxic relationships, commitment issues -- best friends sister to lover, bosses sister to lover, jun's sister!reader, soonyoung, dino (chan), vernon as side characters, names eunseok and haneul used (have no connection to riize and kiof), crying, food and drink as always, mentions being sick, doctor!reader, medical terminology and medical procedure/wound described -- as always i'm certain i have missed something. if there is anything glaring send me an ask.

smut warnings; dom!mingyu, mean dom!mingyu, brat!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, pulling out, creampie, cum on skin, cum play, cumming untouched, cumming in pants, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjob, edging/orgasm denial, degradation, pet names/degrading names, praise, impact play, pussy slapping, biting, crying from pleasure, dacryphilia, aftercare. as stated above, i am sure there is something i am forgetting. send an ask if it is glaring.

w/c; 25.6k and some change (2.8k extra words for patreon bonus) [2.2k this teaser]

beautiful liar - monsta x

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you forever. i hope you all enjoy this one. i missed my boy so much and i wanted to expand a bit on gyu from shut up. give him a bit of life. its not the end of some of these characters, but we will see where they pop up in the future.

this fic will be released 8/15 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

Glancing around the large living room, Mingyu glances towards you as you drop your bag onto the sofa before moving towards the floor to ceiling windows. He knew he really didn’t have to do much more for you. Yes, Jun had told him to keep you entertained, but he had done the first part. He had gotten you from the airport to the penthouse. The bar was going to open soon.

Biting at his lip, Mingyu takes his phone from his jacket pocket and checks his messages when you glance back to look at him in the hallway, your luggage on either side of him. You could see his brows furrowed even from across the room. He had seemed so tense the entire drive from the airport and you could barely get him to open up to you. He was like a puzzle that you were dying to solve.

“Talking to your girlfriend?”

Your words pull Mingyu out of his haze as he reads Minghao’s text and back into the present with you. Lifting his brow, Mingyu scoffs but quickly clears his throat before shaking his head and sending a quick text back to Minghao. "No, I don’t have one. I was just letting Minghao know I had you here. Seeing if he wanted me at the loun—at work.”

You watch as Mingyu quickly changes his wording and clears his throat once again. Stepping closer to the middle of the room, you can see the way he swallows hard and you know it’s because he’s trying to hide something from you. Smirking, you nod and gesture towards your bags before pointing towards another hallway. Mingyu’s eyes follow your hand before finding your eyes once again when you speak, some teasing in your voice. "Well, before you leave me for my brother’s shady bar, can you put my stuff in my room?”

Mingyu feels his stomach in his throat as you mention the bar and start to walk towards the bedrooms. Groaning, he closes his eyes, feeling his phone go off in his hand, finding himself unwilling to look at it right away as he listens to your high heels click against the floor.

So you knew about the lounge. Jun had told him you were a respectable woman. Mingyu had done his own research. Respectable was putting it simply. You were a doctor and where Jun might have lined his family’s pockets in his own way, you were like a beacon of joy for them, with your face in scientific journals and standing in front of hospitals with sick children. The lounge was so far away from who you were.

Looking around the master bedroom, you nod before glancing back towards the door when Mingyu moves into the doorframe, only to stop and clear his throat as if asking for permission. He was not only breathtakingly handsome, but one of the most adorable men you had ever seen. You knew he worked for your brother in some capacity and in his less than desirable business adventure, but you couldn’t imagine it right now. Mingyu did not seem like the type of man to work for your brother. Then again, at one point in your life, you said the same about Minghao.

“You can come into the room, Mingyu. What did my brother say to you to make you so afraid of me?” You smile, a small laugh in your words, as you take a step backwards to sit on the end of the bed as Mingyu puffs up his cheeks.

Pushing your suitcases into the room, Mingyu looks down at you on the bed and he feels the image being burned into his brain as he tries not to imagine you lying back on it as he—sighing—shakes his head and lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair. “He told me to take care of you. Entertain you while he was gone, but he also told me to behave... in not so many words.”

Biting at your lip, you laugh once again, lifting your leg to cross it over the other, feeling Mingyu’s eyes drop to your legs before he has to force himself to look away, pulling out his phone once again to check his messages. “Behave, huh? And what does that mean? Are you bad, usually?”

Feeling heat rising in his neck, Mingyu swallows hard, not only at the text messages from Minghao but also at your words. What were you trying to do? You were obviously testing him. You were teasing him. He should run for the hills and a cold shower.

Laughing, Mingyu focuses on his phone, sending one last text to Minghao, pressing send harder than necessary as you watch him closely. “Who are you texting, Mingyu? Still talking to Minghao? I might start to get jealous. I thought you were supposed to entertain me.”

Glancing at you over his phone, Mingyu sees the smirk on your lips. You were causing some intense feelings for him. He was afraid of you for so many reasons already. You were bad for his job and his friendships. You were a brat and he could tell you were having fun, seeming to know that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Minghao: Don’t need you tonight. Jun wants you to get some shit and guard Y/N

Mingyu: You gotta be kidding me.

Minghao: I don’t need to remind you, but I will, because she’s like my sister too

Minghao: Keep your dick in your pants

Mingyu: I’m not an animal

Minghao: Yes, you are. Don’t let anything happen to her

Minghao: Understand me?

Mingyu: I understand!

Giving you a strained smile as he shoves his phone into his pocket, Mingyu takes a step back from you and lifts his shoulders with a deep breath. “Which room is mine?”

You had already known that Mingyu was going to be assigned to be security for you until your brother got back, even if you had told Jun and Minghao that you didn’t need a babysitter. At the time when you said it, you hadn’t known who Mingyu was or how much fun it might be. Now you are happy to have company.

Smiling, you slide off the bed and up to your feet, glancing around your room with a teasing smile as Mingyu lets out a breath, afraid of what you are implying. Stepping past him, you glance up at him, letting your fingers trail over his hand before moving to the door. “Follow me.”

Mingyu’s skin felt like it was on fire where your fingers had brushed over his. He was being stupid with just a small touch, but god, you were driving him crazy. You knew exactly what you were doing; it was going to take everything in him to keep some professionalism about him during this. He was already counting down the days, hours, and minutes until Jun would be back and this job would be over.

Following behind you, Mingyu lets his eyes move down your back and over your ass before he glances off to the side when you make a quick right turn into the room right beside yours and nod. Glancing over your shoulder at Mingyu, you lift your hands to do a quick eye to hand measurement of his height before doing the same for the bed and making an unsure sound. “You might fit, big boy.”

Unable to stop the scoff before it starts to leave his mouth, Mingyu walks past you into the room and looks at the bed. It wasn’t a small bed, and he wasn’t that big. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu watches you smirk at him before you glance around the rest of the room and pout your lips at him. “You didn’t bring anything with you? Maybe I could take a ride with you and stretch my legs while you pack a bag.”

You knew he didn’t have anything else with him. Clearly, he hadn’t been planning on staying, but you seemed to have known he was going to be sticking around before he did. Sighing, Mingyu scratches at his eyebrow before gesturing towards the door and giving you a strained smile. You could tell you were wearing him down. You wanted to crack him. Get to the real Kim Mingyu, not this professional mask he was wearing for the sake of your brother.

Mingyu hadn’t expected you to follow him up into his apartment, so when you did, he could feel the heat rising in his neck and face. His apartment was nothing compared to the penthouse you were staying in or the penthouse that Jun owned. All Mingyu had was a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment in a decent part of town and he kept it pretty clean. Thank god.

“Uh, I’ll be quick. Just—” You watch as Mingyu hurries past you into his living room to swipe a gun from his coffee table, a few bullets hitting the floor as he curses under his breath, leaning down to pick them up. “Make yourself at home, I guess.” Glancing over his shoulder at you, Mingyu pushes the bullets into the magazine in his hand before pushing the magazine into the pistol and hearing it click.

Your brows were raised and you were watching him curiously. He hadn’t planned for you to be in his space. He had been cleaning one of his guns the night before, well before the bottle of jack, but normally people weren’t inside his apartment. Especially people who looked like you and were decent, normal people.

Following Mingyu with your eyes, you watch as he leaves the door crack, probably to listen to in the other room as he grabs a bag and starts to fill it with various things. You weren’t surprised that he had a gun and it didn’t bother you; in fact, it made him even sexier somehow. You felt a bit safer around him knowing that he was armed, especially if he was supposed to be taking care of you.

Looking over the books on his shelves, you tilt your head and smile at the titles. They weren’t what you would expect someone like Kim Mingyu to have. As that thought crosses your mind, you think to yourself that it isn’t fair of you to think that. You didn’t know him well enough to judge his reading habits or intelligence. You just hadn’t expected to see The Count of Monte Cristo sitting on his shelf with the binding broken as if it had been read several times.

Pulling the book out, you hold it delicately in your hands as you flip through, reading over the words—some you remember, others that you hadn’t forgotten, having not read it in so long. What makes you smile are the notes in the margins in the same chicken scratch that you had seen your name written in at the airport.

Grabbing a few things from his bathroom, Mingyu zips up his bag and checks his pistol before sliding it into the holster under his jacket. You were quiet in the other room and that was making him nervous. He had tried to be quick while packing, but he had no idea what to bring, so he went simple and only took what he needed.

Turning the corner into his living room, Mingyu stops in his tracks, seeing you standing in front of his bookshelf with one of his books in your hands. You were gorgeous in the evening light pouring in from the decently large windows he had been blessed with, and you had the prettiest smile on your lips as you ran your fingers over the margins of the book. He could already tell what book you were looking at before even getting closer. It was his favorite, but that was probably easy to see, which is probably why you picked it up. It was obviously the most well loved book on the entire shelf.

“All human wisdom is contained in these two words–Wait and hope.” You read the quote from the book that Mingyu had re-written at the top of the page before glancing up at him as he watches you carefully. Closing the book, you slide it back into his place and take a breath before offering him a smile. “Are you a tortured soul, Kim Mingyu?”

Laughing into a scoff, Mingyu adjusts his bag on his shoulder and shakes his head. “I just enjoy the idea of revenge being fulfilled, I think.” Mingyu watches you nod and take a few steps closer to him, the air feeling thicker as he tries to take a breath only to get a deep breath of your perfume.

“And it has nothing to do with the love story attached to it? That isn’t why you’ve read that book so many times that the pages are falling out.” Mingyu’s eyes fall to your lips as you speak and he has to force himself to look back up to your eyes before pulling his gaze away from you and towards the window with the golden light.

“It’s just a story.” You think to yourself as you hear the words come out of Mingyu’s mouth—what a beautiful liar he is.

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #svt angst #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen

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lucysarah-c · 2 months

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A little sneak peak from the Arranged marriage Omegaverse Alpha! Levi x Omega! Reader fic I've been working on!

Let me know what you think as I had been writing some chapters and so far this is one of my favourite scenes.

—

The pressure that his fingers applied to the bridge of his nose was so strong that the pain of it overcame the migraine. Strong footsteps echoed in the corridors as cadets moved aside to make way. Since the Scouts were almost wiped out, more and more people had been joining their ranks, and Levi was not enjoying the crowded halls.

"The day I decide to call all this shit off, I'd like to see them surviving without me," Levi thought, clenching his teeth. The stress was taking a toll on him lately. The military was expanding so much, particularly the Scouts, and they simply lacked soldiers in higher positions to handle everything from mundane tasks like organizing lines to making highly important decisions regarding the Marley issue.

Swinging the door of his chambers open, his eyes fell on her. She was looking out of the window, book in hand and cat on lap, dying of boredom as if she were either waiting for rescue or for her death. His grimace was a mix of empathy and annoyance. He had insisted at least five times that she could help in the kitchen, sew uniforms, or work in the laundry room. All his proposals had fallen on deaf ears. Yes, he pitied her, closed up in his office all day and night with nothing better to do. But her privileged upbringing, which made her repulse the idea of helping with anything related to housework, rubbed him the wrong way.

And the horrendous day he was having, having to listen to all of Zeke’s demands from the other side of the damn world, was simply not helping. Slamming the door shut made her turn and look at him.

"Pack your stuff, we're moving," he spat out, already moving to his room to gather the few belongings he actually had. He threw the black trousers of his uniform out of the drawers onto the bed to pack them, regretting the decision as soon as he saw his immaculate, perfectly washed trousers covered in cat hair.

"Moving? Moving where?" Y/N jumped from her place at the window and followed him, excited. Her eyes shone brightly, feeling her prayers had been answered.

Eyes shut as tight as his clenched teeth, he took a deep breath in and out. He was fond of animals, and the white Persian cat was lovely, but the fur was something he wasn’t getting used to easily, and it just added to his day.

"Where are we moving?" she insisted, not sensing his lack of patience. "Are we finally moving to the Capital facility?"

Levi, trying to find any remaining good mood inside him, turned to his side and raised an eyebrow. "No," he said, "To the south."

The excitement dropped substantially, and she frowned at him. "We ARE in the south."

That made Levi quickly realize this was not going to be a quick and easy conversation. "No, we are in Wall Rose."

"I'm not moving to Shiganshina," she said, arms crossed, eyebrows drawn together, and her voice raising.

Levi sighed as he folded one uniform. "Lucky for you," he said, each word dripping with his remaining patience, "we're not going there."

"Then… where?"

Levi knew he should have delivered the news more gently, but he had no time to spare and no energy left to deal with her lately. "South, we're setting up a camp next to the coast. Construction has already taken place, so we'll have a room. Pack your stuff; we're leaving by horse to arrive sooner and organize everything. The luggage will be taken by carts that will probably take a week to reach."

"What?—NO!" she quickly complained, her voice filled more with tears than anger. "I don't want to go to the end of the shitty world!"

"The soldiers from Marley are already arriving, and we need to be there to make sure everything evolves as planned—"

"Aren't you listening to me?!" She screamed loudly enough for Levi to close his eyes at how it reverberated in his ears, only fueling his headache. "I'm NOT moving there. We will be in the middle of nowhere; there’s no communication with the walls. I want to be closer to my friends and family, not there."

The air began to fill with her scent, demanding she wasn’t submitting. Challenging him, and Levi felt how each breath he took through his nose was tinged with it. He had no good temper left, and her insistence on asserting dominance was the final straw. Her even daring to assert dominance over him. Her, the omega the government had saddled him with.

Turning to his right, his piercing eyes locked onto her. "Don’t," Levi ordered, his own pheromones mixing with hers and warning her. The stare of a high-breed alpha, his own body warning her that fighting with him was a bad idea. Maybe it was because he had been hearing demands from Marley soldiers and allies all day long, people challenging his authority. But Levi wasn’t going to allow an omega to step on his dominance. He had been, in his opinion, more than good and patient with her—probably more than any other alpha would have been. He wasn’t one to use his stare to force omegas to do what he wanted, but he was having none of it.

Lips trembling, fists clenching, deep frown, and her eyes struggling to keep eye contact. Fighting against her own biology, she could feel how each fiber of her body trembled in trying to maintain the resistance. Eventually, she couldn’t keep it up and looked to the side, breaking the stare and lowering her head in submission.

A long sigh left his nose as his demand withdrew once she ceased the claim. “Pack your stuff,” he ordered, lowering his voice sensing that the rebellion was over.

But it hardly was. “I’m not going. I’ll move in with my parents. I’m not going to some rotten, muddy camp in the middle of nowhere.”

Levi shook his head. “You’re coming because that’s the arrangement between your parents and the military board. So pack, and that's the end of the deal.”

“No! I don’t want to go, I’m not going to pack!”

“NO! NO! NO! NO!”

Her complaints echoed in his head as the headache pounded against his skull, his teeth clenching so hard he was even showing them. “ENOUGH!” His hand slammed against the drawer, the loudness of it ceasing all noise. The room fell silent, and the scared cat ran to hide under the bed.

Levi finally turned to fully face her. “We are going to do this whether you like it or not,” his voice harsh and leaving no room for interruptions. “It can be the easy way or the hard way.”

Raising his hand in the air, showing three fingers. “I have a meeting, and in three hours I’ll come back and pick you up. Either you pack and get ready for when I return, or you don’t pack and not only will you be in a shitty, muddy camp at the end of the world stuck with me, but you’ll do it without any of your fancy stuff. And I warn you, there are no stores there.”

As he left the room with the same urgency he came in, he said, “You choose!”

But as the door was slamming shut, a cadet interrupted him. “Ehm… Captain?” The tremble in the kid’s voice indicated he sensed the environment was not conducive to another demand. “Commander Hange needs a signature?”

“Fuck off!”

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monosusa · 10 days

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hannie-dul-set · 10 months

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YOU’RE MY BUCKET LIST.

p — SHEN QUANRUI x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, lovestruck! ricky trying his darnest to be cool. w — swearing, secondhand embarrassment what did you expect from me. 2.8k words.

note — rewriting the backstory of his leopard print shirt. my loser idolverse is expanding. no one is safe. who should i throw into the depths of patheticness next.

ricky doesn’t believe in bucket lists.

what need is there for a list of things he wants and wants to do before he dies when he can get and do everything he wants in an instant? if he wants to go bungee jumping, he can go to gangwon-do this afternoon. if he wants to date, he’s got a couple dozen numbers he can pick and choose to call. if he’s craving for authentic italian wine right out of the cellar, he can book a flight and visit all of europe with his phone as his only luggage.

he lacks nothing, and therefore he wants nothing. ricky doesn’t believe in bucket lists— he didn’t believe in bucket lists. at least not until that damned day of reckoning, when the nonexistence of his list suddenly came to existence, harboring one thing and one thing only.

there’s only one thing he’d like to tick off before he dies. one thing he wants as soon as possible. something that isn’t instantaneously achievable. something that unfamiliarly feels out of his grasp.

ricky, more than anything in the world, wants you to take him fucking seriously.

“you’re so pretty today.”

is what he says, the moment you enter the office. well, two moments after you enter the office because he had to take the first moment to admire how pretty you are before verbalizing it. he’s down horrendous, he knows— totally outside of the image he’s perfectly curated for the past six months since entering university. you’re the chair of his department’s council, a third year, and by some mystical force or another (read: being stupidly whipped) he volunteered to help prepare for a department event and managed to drag the rest of his friends into it.

said friends being gyuvin and gunwook, who are looking at him in judgment and disgust after completing his daily routine of complimenting your face.

“aw, how cute,” is your reply. ricky wracks his brain for another word for pretty, but you’re quick to move one and leave him in the dust. “thank you, ricky! you’re so sweet. anyway, matthew, how’s the—”

gyuvin snorts. “hey, at least she thinks you’re cute.” ricky throws him a punch but it falls weak from the mental damage.

cute. he hates it. he’s grown to hate it after it became the symbol of you thinking of him as nothing but your cute junior. are his daily compliments not enough of a giveaway that’s he’s lowkey fucking in love with you? what else do you want? a truckload of roses? a barbershop quartet illustrating through song how stupidly down bad ricky shen is for his unbothered senior?

knowing you, even if he gets on stage in front of the whole university and perform a three-act play of how he fell, head first with scraped knees, into the tunnel of torture that is you and your pretty smile, you’d probably just ruffle his hair and coo, “good job! you’re so talented, angel!” because he’s so cute, so lovely, so never going to be boyfriend-able in your eyes and it eats his despairing soul.

maybe if he rips his heart out of his chest and you see the gaping, you-shaped hole it’ll leave behind, you might finally get the idea.

“quit being a drama queen,” gunwook says, throwing a ball at ricky’s bedroom door that’s been locked shut for a good hour now. it bounces right back into his palm and gyuvin is laying flat on the floor next to him. “it could be that she knows you’re into her, but she’s just trying to reject your advances gently because she doesn’t want to hurt you.”

gunwook and gyuvin hear a crash from inside ricky’s room.

“that’s— that’s, no. i don’t even want to think about that!”

they’re waiting for him to finish changing (if he is just changing. the crashes in his room are becoming sources of concern). you invited them for a nice buffet dinner to celebrate the success of the event. however, the three of them are already thirty minutes late for the restaurant appointment, and hanbin had to come over and pick them up with taerae in tow after hearing the news that ricky shen— cool guy extraordinaire— is having a breakdown over a girl.

there are now four men waiting in front of ricky’s locked bedroom. gyuvin gets sick and tired and starts banging on the door. “hurry up! do you want to keep the love of your life waiting?”

“damn, you guys were serious,” taerae posits. “is he actually in love with her?”

“i’m afraid so,” gunwook solemnly shakes his head.

hanbin hits another concerned knock on his door, and lo and behold, ricky finally cracks open his bedroom door and walks out—

walks out in an ensemble that they can only unanimously describe as jarring.

leopard print. leather pants. gold chain necklace. a pair of shades are hanging on the way too low cut shirt and they wonder if he’s gonna wear them indoors. he’s got a leather jacket folded over his arm and it’s twenty four fucking degrees.

“what do you think?” ricky asks, eyes proud, expectant, and sparkly. hanbin doesn’t have the heart to break it to him. “i read somewhere that the pattern symbolizes, uh, confidence and sexiness, i think. this will make her stop thinking that i’m cute, right?”

“yeah,” gyuvin replies. “she’ll think you’re hideous instead.”

“google tells me that the leopard print is a symbol of, and i quote, absolute femininity.” gunwook has his eyes trained on his phone. he looks up and gives ricky a once-over. “if you’re trying to go for the femme fatale look, then you’re doing a good job.”

it takes a moment for ricky to react.

when he does, his reaction consists of grabbing onto the hem of his allegedly ugly shirt and starts pulling it over his head.

“whoa, whoa, whoa— what are you doing?!”

gunwook quickly tries to stop him from stripping. gyuvin is laughing his ass off. taerae has a hand covering his mouth. hanbin is stressed. “quit picking on him! ricky, you look fine!” ricky is not fine. his styled hair is not disheveled and he’s visibly upset and sulking. gyuvin is losing his mind. he’s on the floor and hitting the ground.

“are you trying to be cute right now?” taerae asks. this just scrunches up ricky’s brows even more and makes his bottom lip jut forward.

“n...no…?”

“well, shit,” taerae laments. “it’s a genetic disease. she’s never gonna take you seriously.”

the only emotion ricky knows is despair.

he’s supposed to be hot and sexy and handsome, why can’t you see that? do you have a pink filter when you look at him, or something? is that it? that’s gotta be it, right? because why else would you be so unaffected when he feigns nonchalance, brushing through his hair at a precise timing when he notices you starting to turn to his direction. it’s your heart that should be beating like crazy when he greets you with a half-smile and a nod— not his, not his, not his when you return it with a full-smile, so bright and beaming, of your own.

“oh, you’re finally here!”

ricky doesn’t believe in bucket lists. he lives in the moment. he doesn’t want things so desperately to the point where he writes them down on a checklist taped to his desk. the list definitely doesn’t have the words “get miss department chair to fall in love with me” written on it with scrawled letters. and he doesn’t didn’t give himself a deadline to date you by the end of the year.

he’s given himself until the day he dies because the moment he met you was the first time he imagined watching someone walking down the aisle.

yes, he’s down bad. yes, he sings hopelessly devoted to you in the shower five times a week and replaced the word you with your name. yes, gyuvin has a recording.

“ah, we’ve been waiting for you, kids,“ you say once they’ve all settled on their seats. kids. he scoffs. insult to injury. he’s pouting and picking on a plate of galbi. he feels like shit even though you’re sitting right across him all pretty and sweet like the strawberry shortcake you ordered— which he’s trying his damn best to not steal a slice from because he’s pretty sure you’re just gonna go, “oh! you really like strawberries, don’t you? so cute,” and he’d much rather choose physical over emotional torment, thank you very much.

“they were caught up in something,” taerae responds to your initial statement. your eyes gloss over them with curiosity.

“why? what took you guys so long?”

four sets of eyes are on ricky and his patterned shirt. the bossam wrap in his mouth won’t swallow down his throat. it was too late for him to change out of the symbol of femininity. mid-strip, hanbin got a text from you so he got dragged out, guilty in leopard prints and gold, out of his apartment.

don’t you fucking dare, ricky glares at the suspicious look gyuvin is wearing as he brings a glass of water to his lips. gyuvin clears his throat, “we had to wait for ricky who was dressing to impress y—” and is subsequently elbowed and chokes on his water.

hot. ricky feels hot. not the sexy kind, but the icky embarrassing kind because he wants to cover his burning face and stab gyuvin with a fork in the process.

“oh?” you voice out from across the table. you’re plucking out wads of tissue paper for a dying gyubin but your eyes are trained on him. oh my god. he wants to rip this shirt off and die, but he can’t do that. he can’t. he hasn’t been working out enough lately due to stress. “not everyone can pull off animal prints. it looks really good on you.”

huh.

“and you’re not wearing your usual silver! you look cool today, ricky.”

oh.

what.

“you really think so?” gyuvin, who has now recovered, eggs you on further in behalf of his malfunctioning friend. there’s steam rising to the ceiling and it’s not from the open grill. he exchanges glances with gunwook and taerae. they catch the signal and press on. “doesn’t he look—”

“—would you dare say—”

“—handsome?”

“hot?”

“sexy?”

you let out something in between a cough and a laugh.

they don’t miss the flustered jitter filtering the sound coming out of your throat.

mission success.

“ahaha, what are you kids saying?” ricky doesn’t miss it either. the initial shock of you not calling him cute has worn off and now it’s up to him to finish what his friends have started. he doesn’t miss the way you try to brush them off while fanning your face with your free hand, the way you reach out for a glass of water with the other and there’s a nervous bob in your throat when you swallow. “a—anyway, let’s make a toast for the success of our event!”

when he clinks his glass with yours, ricky maintains eye contact amidst the noise of the cheers. his gaze is deep and you’re caught off guard— escaping with a laugh and turning away as you down half of your beer glass in one go. holy crap. holy shit, it’s working.

ricky can see it. there’s hope for his bucket list. he’s gonna swear by leopard shirts and gold chain necklaces if he continues to get this kind of reaction from you.

“it’s not because of the ugly shirt.”

gyuvin snaps him back to sanity once dinner concluded and they start leaving the restaurant. “it’s because we manipulated her brain waves into finally noticing that you’re hot,” gunwook inserts. they’re all outside now. you’re bidding the other members goodbye and gunwook nudges him forward. “you’re welcome. you owe us a meal.”

now, even with the newfound confidence and hope, ricky’s knees still buckle when he approaches you from behind. why is the back of your head still pretty? why?

at the moment, it’s taerae’s turn to receive your goodbyes, wedged between two cars, one of them his. he notices ricky’s looming nervous wreck of a presence from over your shoulder. “ah, and this is my cue to leave,” he says. “thanks for the meal, miss chair. get home safe.”

“you too, taerae! thanks!”

when you turn around, you bump into him. maybe he intended it, maybe not, but god damn the uncharacteristic flutter of your surprised eyes is destroying his plans to act cool, act nonchalant, act totally unaffected with how prettily you’re looking at him under the dim parking lot lights and the night sky. “oh!” you exclaim after reformatting, after putting on your doting senior voice again and it kills him because that’s a night of progress down the drain. “are you kids heading out now? oh, sorry, this is your car, right? i’ll get out of the way.”

he frowns. totally uncool, perfectly non-nonchalant, and completely affected but he doesn’t care anymore.

“what do you think of me?”

the words jump out before he knows it. screw his bucket list. he’s gonna proclaim his undying love for you even if it kills him.

you blink. “what?” a laugh bubbles from your throat— a mix of trying-to-brush-him-off but nervous at the same time. “ricky, what do you mean?”

his face is knotting up. he’s totally pouting right now which he’d rather be caught dead than doing, but he’s now twice the dead man. ricky takes a step forward. you take a step back until no more steps can be taken because your back hits against his car, and he’s grasping at the straws desperate to get even an ounce of a hint of a sign that you’re finally taking him seriously. “what do you think of me?” he repeats, voice a little lower this time. your expression is completely taken over by peaches of fluster, this time. no sign of the composure you’ve usually perfectly maintained.

“oh, uhm.” your hands are unsure and held hostage in the air because his arms serve as a barricade around you, palms pressed tightly against the cold glass of the front seat window. you’re nipping at your bottom lip. ricky just died thrice. “what—what i think of you? well, uh, you’re a very good, very cute, very hardworking junior that i adore, and i—i appreciate all the help you’ve offered to the counci— oh!”

ricky lets out a noise and buries his nose into the crook of your neck, arms that were once caging you are now completely wrapped around your waist. he’s putting all of his weight onto you. he is a corpse. he mumbles something unintelligible into you skin and you ask him to repeat it. “i don’t like it,” he says more clearly, still muffled, whiney all the same. “i’m not cute. i’m cool and handsome and totally in love with you but you just don’t get it.”

it’s quiet. ricky is anticipating the worst, which would be you calling him lame and a loser, but you don’t do that. you don’t push him off either.

“how can i not think you’re cute when you act like this?”

instead you pull him in closer. his eyes widen, and he feels your fingers digging into his hair, a tender touch on his nape, and he feels himself melting and turning into stone at the same time.

“i never thought you were being serious every time you greeted me by calling me pretty. i thought you were just being playful and trying to earn extra points from me,” you hum. he sinks further. the only thing propping him up is you. “but calling someone pretty every day is barely a confession, ricky. how was i supposed to get anything from that? gosh, you’re so cute.”

“it usually works,” he mumbles. he doesn’t want to show you his face. he probably looks stupid right now. “i thought my new shirt worked too. gyuvin and gunwook don’t agree.”

“i think it’s cool.”

you finally pry him off, hands on his shoulders and he feels himself buckling. he’s pretty sure he looks stupid right now— pink and flushed and dizzy, but your face harbors no judgment. “i think i prefer the shirt owner over the shirt though.” only a familiar gaze of fondness and god, he’s so in love and you finally understand that. “now, why the hell are gyuvin and gunwook still loitering out here?”

ricky didn’t believe in bucket lists. at least not until that damned day of reckoning, when the nonexistence of his list suddenly came to existence, harboring one thing and one thing only.

now, he’s got that one thing crossed out. he’s thinking of adding more.

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