#Kim Mingyu can fluff me any day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gyuswhore · 6 days

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Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

kim mingyu x reader

word count: 21k

contains: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [minors DNI], angst, statistics, ur honour they're stupid for one another, descriptions of stress exhaustion and burnout, academic burden, disagreements, mingyu is smart as hell, shitting on bad professors, smut but its a surprise [gyu gets his soul sucked while he's reciting statistical models I mean what]

words of conviction from @highvern: Kim Mingyu, total asshole , 1-800-HOT N DUMB , THEYRE IN LOVE MINGYU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOSER , sick fucking freak , i know when you wrote this you put your head in your hands , OHHHM YW GOD

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

[a/n]: this fic is set in the same universe as @highvern's wonu fic endpoint [to be released], some insight for wonu's pov is included here as is some of Mingyu's pov in cam's fic if you'd like to see more about what happens in the gaps!!

I want to start by thanking everyone who chose to be part of this collab fic and for being the reason cam and I were able to open up @camandemstudios in the first place. everyone's been so kind and cooperative and I still cant believe we managed to convince such amazing writers to join us on this collab journey 🥹 I love u guys

Thanking my wife camothy @highvern for brainstorming with me since day one and for betaing for me. @seokgyuu and @miabebe for also looking over the doc and reassuring me. I'm for sure forgetting someone and I'm really sorry about that, know that I appreciate you just as much 🤍

on that note, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, im HELLA nervous for some reason so plsplspls remember to reblog and send me feedback on how you liked it, I will love you forever <333

masterlist

Monday

A normal person would’ve cried. Perhaps even sued the entire institution for all it was worth. Burn down the world, if it came to it.

But as you stare at the tiny 37/100 on your screen, you feel…nothing.

You could’ve said you saw it coming, which you did, but something about blaming someone else for an exam you took was beginning to feel a little manipulative.

Clicking off the student portal, you huff loudly, five in the morning too early for you to begin breaking down over a grade that was completely unreflective of what you were taught.

Or maybe it was, because as you count one, two, three hours till your dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, you can only hope you’ll hold back from spitting in your professor’s coffee. But alas, you can only shut your laptop harder than necessary for what it costs and push the grade out of your mind.

You were tired enough to sleep for a couple more hours, and you take it as an opportunity to spite the entire course by giving just as many fucks as your professor did.

Which was little to none.

That was a lie—on your part anyway. Because you continue to show up, and probably will until you can put this course and all of its trauma behind you. Even now as you feel the inclining beat of your pulse sitting in the white lecture hall, you know this is all but you versus the universe.

Dr. Cho might as well have wheeled himself into the room on a skateboard with the way he struts into the room.

He’s wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off and jeans of a matching finish that do not fit him properly. There’s pins in every last colour on this earth, littering the front of his jacket with sayings that toe the silver controversial lining. There was one that said Vote for John F. Kennedy, another plain black one with I Eat Kids, and of course, the blaring Cunt written in cursive, pink sparkly letters.

This man that’s pushing into his 60s stands before his slightly wilted class in his crocs, hands on his hips as he heaves a long breath.

“I have to say, not the turn out I was expecting on that last report.”

He’s talking about the report you coincidentally failed, the same one you were pushed into with little to no direction and a deadline tighter than any you’ve had to bully yourself through.

“All I can say is to read through the feedback I’ve given and try a little harder next time.” His voice is somewhere bordering comical exasperation. Feedback that consisted of sparing ‘?’’s and ‘no’’s with zero further explanation. He could say more, but you’ve learned that he simply chooses to not.

Besides the man that drones in the front of the room, there’s another person in the other corner of the lecture hall. He’s hunched over a giant pile of papers, sifting through each and every one with a pen in his other hand.

The TA doing a mundane task is somehow more interesting than whatever seminars of disappointment your professor was giving. He’s crossing something out on every single leaf of paper that he flicks through, and you vaguely wonder if those were today’s worksheets.

“...and post hoc tests last week, we can start on Bayesian today. Mingyu will be handing out the tutorial papers.”

The poor TA looks like he thought he’d have more time, snapping his head up to look at the professor with an expression of pure incredulousness. He staggers for a moment before he’s flicking past the pages even faster somehow, striking out what seems like the same instruction in the giant pile of papers meant for an entire lecture hall. There’s a rustle as about a hundred laptops are being pulled out and booted up, waiting for the worksheets to land on the desks.

You hear the familiar warble of papers being passed out and you watch as the TA pulls chunks of sheets out of the giant stack in his arms to slam down onto the front tables.

“Pass it down, please… pass it down, please…”

There’s a voice that calls from one of the front seats, “What formula is the sheet talking about?”

Mingyu looks startled as he snaps back to look at the blaring empty whiteboard. In the midst of passing papers, you watch him sprint to the rolling whiteboards, pulling one of the giant flats of white over to the other side, the mechanism slamming into place with a louder than comfortable slam. It reveals another whiteboard underneath with the detestably long formula already written (and the one you’d have to figure out yourself).

The professor remains with his chin in his hands behind his laptop, unphased.

By the time you’ve registered the foreign symbols on the board, one of the tutorial papers has made it into your hands.

Sure enough, there’s a quick line across one of the steps with a thick black marker.

Blinking hard, you attempt to pull yourself into the zone, staring at the white sheet with words that are barely stringing themselves together. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially as you lift your head to find hunched shoulders and furrowed brows all around.

There’s one person that’s zipping back and forth, just like there always is.

You watch as Mingyu hunches over certain laptops and whispers in rapid explanation before moving on to the next, a looming sense of dizziness that trails behind him as he shoots up the stairs to the back rows to help someone else.

There’s a brief consideration to raise your own hand to ask for help, but one look at his disoriented gaze and the amount of hands that shoot up by the second, you guess it wasn’t going to help.

Back you go, hunched over the same wretched paper as everyone else, and praying for some divine revelation.

Tuesday

Divine revelation did not come to you, but the good sense to make use of office hours did.

So here you are, a printed copy of your supposedly horrid assignment and a pack of multicolour pens in your tote, and determination in your stride, you make your way to the department building.

You’ve double, triple, quadruple checked the times to ensure you don’t dip in at the wrong moment, swiping open your phone to re-check the room number yet again.

Standing outside the door, you knock with mustered confidence, waiting for something akin to an affirmative from the other side of the door.

Nothing.

You knock again.

Silence.

You glance around the empty hall before grasping onto the cool brass handle of the door, wrenching it open just a peep. Poking your head in, you find the room…empty.

The chairs and tables that usually buzz with discussing students lay barren as you step into the room. Moving to look at the front of the room, you inhale sharply as you realise the professor’s desk has been occupied this entire time.

Except he’s asleep.

No, that’s not the professor.

Moving closer, you watch the way his back rises and falls ever so slowly, head resting on his arm as his hand hangs limp off the table. Whipping your head around with more attention this time, you attempt to find an explanation written on the walls. But there’s none, even in the papers that litter the table he rests his head on.

You don’t need to see his face to know it’s the TA. But as you stand in the empty room, clutching the straps of your tote, you aren’t quite sure what to do.

Another glance around the table and you realise his laptop remains on, the screen yet to sleep. Before the obvious issue of a blatant invasion of privacy can befall you, you take a step forward to take a peek.

It’s his schedule, a million colours blaring on the screen in a colour coded regard with barely any white spaces. It doesn’t take long to find his time slot for right now, red with importance.

Glancing down, the man remains fast asleep, pen still in hand as it inks a faint line on the page. You look around the room for the nth time, taking constant glances back at his laptop that tells you he’s actively missing something right now. Clearing your throat, you hunch over a tad bit.

“Um, excuse me.” He hardly moves. So you try a little louder, hunching over his sleeping form even further. “Excuse me.”

You could’ve sworn you heard a snore.

Out of instinct, you bring a hand forward to his shoulder, shaking ever so slightly as you call for him again. “Excuse me!”

There’s a sharp inhale and he shoots up quicker than you can back away, ensuring you get an entire back’s worth of force as he bumps into you, hard.

“Wh–ow!” The noise is collective, yelps and thuds as you both back away from each other.

“W–what’re you doing here?” he asks, hair still ruffled and eyes barely open as he stands at the table. There’s a bright yellow sticky note on his right cheek, ink scribbled on in something you can’t decipher.

“Um, it’s office—”

His eyes land on the same screen you were peering into just before and it looks like his life flashes before his eyes, widening at the sight as he slams around the table looking for something.

“I have to go,” he announces, gripping onto an unstrapped watch as he registers the time, his other hand shoving his laptop and a few papers into a dark messenger bag.

“Wait, isn’t it still office hours?” you call out as he whizzes past you.

He’s swinging his bag over his shoulder and half tripping to the door as he calls out, “Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“But—”

“It’s on the portal.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it—” he pauses as he exhales loudly, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to rub across his tired face. “I’ll double check. But it’s Wednesdays and Thursdays from now on. You can wait till I get back if you really want help.”

“How—”

A loud slam! of the door.

“—long…”

You’re left draped in silence yet again, the echoes of the slammed door ringing in your startled ears. It all happened too fast for you to process, blinking rapidly as you registered that you were now alone in the room.

He said he’d be back, but left you with no indication as to when. By the looks of his god awful schedule, it looked like he had something else to attend to right after whatever it was he buggered off to right now.

Fingers clenched into a fist, you consider your options. You could wait, sit on one of the desks and try to get some work done until he gets back.

The universe gives you your answer as the door opens with a loud creak in the empty lecture hall. It’s another professor who looks quite startled to find an overenthusiastic student already present for class.

She stares before craning to look at the room number outside the door, “Am I in the right room?”

“Uh, yes! I was just leaving,” you buffer out, moving to shuffle out immediately.

You’re halfway out the door when you hear another call of an “Excuse me!”

“Are these your papers?” The professor’s full arms are up as she gestures to the still littered table.

The No is ready on your lips. Until it isn’t.

Later on, you’d consider how you left that room with an armful of papers that did not belong to you. How you’d ducked under the table to ensure you’d gotten everything, down to the leather strap watch with the cracked clock face.

But as you stare at the stack of files and sheets that lay on your desk at home, you only know of the decent act that you’d committed.

And nothing of the hourglass you’d just turned over.

Wednesday

In your Sent box are three emails sent on three separate days, all asking the same recurring question, all responding with the same recurring reply.

I wanted to confirm the days and times for office hours. I’m aware it’s on the portal but I’d like to reconfirm.

Regards, YN

Dear YN,

Wednesdays and Thursdays. 4 to 6 PM.

Kim Mingyu, T.A.

So there you were on a Wednesday afternoon, 3:59 PM sharp, outside the lecture hall where office hours have always been. With the same tote hung on your shoulders, with the same printed assignment and pack of multicolour pens, and a separated stack of files and folders, you wrench the door open with bated breath.

The blended murmur of the usual hustle and bustle of the appointment reassures you first, the sight of scattered students of familiar faces reassures you second. And most of all, a conscious TA that sits at the professor’s desk, speaking to another student over a laptop screen.

The man does nothing to acknowledge your arrival, continuing above the babble of students that occupy the chairs and the discussion. It isn’t too full, but considerably busy nonetheless despite how early you’ve swooped in.

There’s a brief consideration whether this was in the TA’s job description at all, craning your neck to take a full sweep of the room to find a sparing glimpse of the man who should be here. The professor and his loud fashion choices are nowhere to be found.

The sigh you let out is heavy and full of an emotion you cannot possibly begin to unpack, taking a seat on one of the unoccupied chairs to slump against. Shoulders sagging, you feel every fibre of your being screaming against your better judgement to pull out some work and to be productive while you wait. Reading over your failed assignment for the nth time, the same one that seemed to be some sick form of rage bait.

You pull a couple things out so as to not look awkward sitting and staring into nothing on an empty desk, uncapping your pen and pulling up your sleeves like there was business to be done. Which there was, but none of which you wished to entertain.

People watching, you realise, is a lot easier when most of the room is preoccupied with whatever it is they’re doing, too busy to notice your blank stares.

The faces are familiar, none of which are people you’ve interacted with before but classmates nonetheless. The room is full of shaking legs, spinning pens and hunched backs, not an un-scrunched brow in sight. There’s a particular gaggle of girls somewhere around the front, their tables suggesting a work environment but between the whispers, giggles and glances to the front of the room, you assume there’s one thing in common the both of you weren’t doing.

Speaking of the front of the room, your matched glance finds you face to face with the student at the main table in the middle of pushing himself off his seat. Your reaction is immediate, hand coming over to slam against the flat of your bag to find the lost straps, moving out of your seat as you keep your eyes on the front of the room.

Bad luck must be a lover, because you realise quickly that somebody’s already beat you to it. Before you even noticed the first’s intentions to. The student stands beside the chair ready to keep it warm as the previous occupant leaves.

Slamming back down on your own seat, you realise very quickly that trying to get an audience with this TA was going to be harder than you anticipated. There’s multiple other sounds of frustration around the room, and you doubt the slowly increasing pool of students was going to help anyone’s time management.

Realising you needed to be a little more tactical if you didn’t want to sit here for the next month and half, you find an empty spot near the gaggle of girls you’d noticed before. It was right up front, just enough for you to hear when the conversation would begin to conclude at the main table.

Once again, the TA doesn’t seem to notice any of the hustle and bustle of the room as his mouth continues to move rapidly, eyes on the question as he invests himself in his explanation.

It was unfortunate that the only remaining seat was right next to the louder than necessary group, but you take it as a blessing anyway. It’s then that the one right next to you turns to stage-whisper to you.

“Are you here to see him?”

You don’t expect a conversation, ears straining to eavesdrop on the other conversation in front of you to find your cue. You snap to look at her in surprise. “Pardon?”

“Are you here to see him? Mingyu?”

“Uh—” Wasn’t everybody? “Yeah, I had a couple things I wanted to clear out.”

The revelation makes her shoulders drop as she lets out a loud sigh, “God, I can never get anything this professor says. I've been here nearly every week trying to figure it all out.”

“Yeah he’s a bit…unorthodox.”

“He’s unorthodox too.” She looks over to the main table towards the TA, chin in her hands as she gazes. “A face like that is rare.”

It wasn’t that she was wrong, it didn’t take more than a glance to convince yourself that Mingyu was possibly one of the more attractive people you’d meet in your lifetime. But the appeal lasted for all of five minutes for you, flitting away when you noticed that he dragged along a very…overwrought… suggestion wherever he went.

It was clear he was stressed seemingly all year round, nearly just as relaxed as your professor seemed to be.

But Mingyu was attractive. And you realise how much of a fool you’d sound if you admitted to anything other than such.

“It is. His willpower’s somehow even rarer,” you add. “Don’t know how he does it.”

“God, tell me about it. Forget getting his number, trying to have more than a three sentence exchange with him without some statistical nonsense involved is near impossible.” Her face has fallen, a tight little frown on her face as she irritates herself with some other memory.

Taking a glance down at her notes, you find the printed sheet littered with glitter gel pen ink lining the edges, doodles of stars and hearts and small anime characters next to p values and z scores.

There’s a distinct sound of a chair screeching, and it’s like a large GAME OVER sign is hanging above your head.

You jerk in your seat, like you could jump over the table and land in the emptying seat with some god-given stroke of luck, like the person already standing next to the chair wouldn’t hold a lifelong grudge against the insane girl with an unnatural acclimation to statistics.

Although, nothing was more unnatural than the way this TA seemed to know more than the professor. Or you were just really behind.

Alas, you don’t tumble over the table or kick back your chair, merely making a forceful motion in your seat, palms itching terribly as you watch the girl with her open laptop balanced in her arms move to take a seat.

You were preoccupied, hence you do not notice that the TA has also noticed you.

Suddenly, the girl looks startled as she’s told to wait.

“She’s been waiting nearly a week, I really hope you don’t mind,” you hear him say, voice strained as you turn to look at him. His hands are outstretched to motion towards you a few feet across from him.

For whatever reason, you had no thought that he might’ve remembered you. Something about his half asleep state when he’d spoken to you, perhaps he might’ve thought he dreamt it. Or he’d just forgotten it altogether.

The girl glances at you, and her shoulders sag a little as she nods in formality.

“Thank you.”

It comes out of both of you, snapping to look at each other hardly a moment as you go back to smiling at the retreating student.

“You can come right after her,” he reassures, his own upturned mouth tired and fading.

Never have you felt more awkward trying to come around the elongated student tables.

You pause at first, staring at the table in front of you like it was worth trying to climb over or even crawl under it to get to the desk. Another moment of eye contact as he stares at your unmoving form with a blank look, and the heat pools your skin.

Staggering for a moment, you end up moving past your chair and walking the way round anyway, the screeching of the chairs only nurturing the existing budding humiliation for no apparent reason.

It only gets worse when you sit across from him finally, backside barely touching the plastic before realising you’d forgotten your bag in your seat.

Mid smile in a timid greeting when you make a sound resembling something of an “Oh!” as you spring back up immediately. It’s easier to reach for your bag over the table you were sitting on, reaching across to grab it off your vacated seat.

The girl you were sitting next to just before makes a motion like she’s trying to help and you have to remind yourself to smile at her as you retreat.

Mingyu has the very beginnings of an amused expression on his face once you’ve finally made yourself comfortable across from him, clearing your throat just for something to do.

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring out the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him.

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, he blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page.

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell.

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he actually wanted to know.

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer.

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and presentation was off.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words.

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes. You don’t have an explanation, but it’s somehow easier to feel helpless in front of the man that’s meant to help you. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he has to say it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand.

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger.

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did.

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered in a rainbow of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag.

You only remember when you spot the segregated file of papers in your bag.

“I almost forgot,” you say, slipping the files and tidbits out and in front of him.

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply, eyes widening as sees the familiar blue.

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

Pausing, you wonder if you should make the next comment, the words tumbling out before you can make a decision. “Maybe don’t run out of rooms still half asleep.”

By the grace of God, he laughs, “No, you’re right. I should be careful.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he continues. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.”

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

Thursday

True to your punctual nature, you make yourself known at exactly 3:29 PM.

Mingyu is at the desk, conscious and on the phone, eyes closed as he rests his face on his fist.

“I don’t know if I can make time for that—no, I understand, sir,”

Another pause as the noise from his speakers fill his ears, his rubbing over his face a little harsher than you doubt he’s entirely comfortable with.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

His phone hits the table with a heartbreaking thud, both hands covering his face as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“Light on your feet or something? I can never tell when you come in,” he startles when he notices you.

Sheepish smile on your face, you move to sit down. “Sorry.”

You know it’s invasive, and you also know you might be asking him to break some unknown university code of conduct, but curiosity takes charge as you ask a casual question. “Important call?”

“Uh, yeah, um, just work stuff,” he states, shaking his head swiftly like he’s trying to shake the thought out of his mind.

There’s a pause while you're slipping your papers and laptop out of your bag, during which he seems to have decided to divulge a little more.

“It was Dr. Cho. More stuff for me to do,” he says. “As always.”

“Does he do anything other than show up to class?” you ask through a snort.

“Of course he does. He cusses out every article he doesn’t agree with, is anything but objective and…the occasional relay of blatant misinformation.”

For the record, you’d never really heard Mingyu speak at all for the months he’d been TA-ing for the semester. It was small whispers of choice words in a vague voice, the distant murmur as he exchanged with the professor too far for you to hear.

The voice of the seemingly quiet and diligent TA was never known to you, not until yesterday as he explained statistical models and the flaws of your data presentation.

Passionately too. Incredulous for a discipline so dry and unapproachable.

That being said, something about the grit in his voice as he positively sneered through his teeth, badmouthing his professor—it was something you couldn’t quite believe he was capable of.

“I’m sorry you have to put up with him.”

Once again, by whatever stone of tolerance the universe bestowed in his heart, you watch him sigh and smile, “Anything for that recommendation. And the pay too, I suppose. Besides, he’s done a lot for the area, can’t discredit him entirely.”

With your eyebrows raised, he seems to catch your expression. He pants out a laugh, and your stomach lurches as you watch it reach his eyes, teeth on display, a lurch in his chest; a true laugh.

Raising his hands in surrender, he responds, “I’m stuck.”

There’s nothing you can do to stop the smile that reaches your own face, turning your laptop screen towards him with the JASP software display. “I am too. Help.”

Help, he does.

Monday

Mingyu ended up giving you an entire hour on that Thursday.

The thirty minutes before office hours began soared by like they were nothing, and you were ready to take your leave the minute students began to scatter in as the clock hit a swift four. Except he kept going, another 30 minutes in deep concentration as he retaught you nearly everything from scratch.

Perhaps his proven determination to ensure you don’t tragically fail is what prompted you to do this, standing at the till of your regular coffee shop as you ask, “Make that two, please.”

It might also be important to mention the 7:30 AM on the dial on a bright Monday morning as you walked into your slightly less dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, knowing there would only be one other person insane enough to get to the lecture hall this early.

Something isn’t right.

Mingyu is in a position all too familiar to you and everyone else who shares this class, hunched over something or the other in deep focus. The sun pours in through the lifted blinds, the lights of the class turned off as natural light does more than enough of the job.

It also shows you a blaring hot pink post-it note on his face, all too familiar to a previous interaction you’ve had with him.

He notices you before you need to announce yourself, brows separating as he recognises you in the doorway. “‘Morning!”

“...Morning.”

“You’re early,” he comments, straightening his back with a hand behind him for support as you approach.

“Figured we both needed this,” you hand him a tray with his cup of coffee, eyes still trained on his lower cheek with the paper stuck to it. “It’s a latte with no sugar, but I added a couple packets on the side anyway. Just in case.”

“O–oh, thank you. And you’re right I did need this.”

Now that you’re closer, the scrawled writing on the post-it note is clearer.

To Do:

Call mom

Shoot myself

“You, um—” It’s alarmingly difficult for you to say it, despite the words being so simple. Hey! You got a lil’ something on your face.

But all you do is dumbly point to your own cheek, eyes trained on the loud piece of paper that tells more than he might like the world to know.

There’s a loud slap of his hand on his own cheek as he crumples the paper in his hands, bringing it forward to see. “For fuck’s sake.”

“It’s okay! I wanna…shoot myself too sometimes.”

What the fuck?

“I mean!” you correct louder than you anticipated, before covering with a laugh. “It’s okay, it happens. Good thing I caught it before someone else did.”

It’s all the more petrifying when your voice echoes across the blatantly empty lecture hall, reverberating like it was a punishment for you and your horrid lack of volume control. Meeting his eyes feels like a sin right now, so you keep them downcast and pray he doesn’t try to sabotage your education.

“Good thing it was just you. Yeah.”

Just you.

“Anyways, I think I’m done with prepping for class. Do you wanna squeeze in twenty minutes of ANOVA?”

“Have you seen the time?”

“Not a morning person?”

“Nope!”

“And yet it’s 7:40 on a Monday morning and you’re absurdly early.” His brows are raised as he pulls around the professor's chair to bring it to you.

“Do you want the coffee or not?” you ask, watching as he drags another chair for himself.

The both of you sit away from the professors table, coffees in hand as you watch Mingyu run a hand through his hair.

He gives you a crooked grin,“I apologise.”

“To be fair,” he continues. “I’m not much of a morning person either.”

You narrow your eyes the slightest bit as Mingyu takes a sip of his unsweetened coffee, “I’m starting to think no money’s worth this job.”

Mingyu snorts, coffee suspended in his full cheeks. He swallows with much difficulty before answering, “You’re right. Not sure why I’m still here either. I could get an offer from another professor.”

“And that isn’t happening because…?”

Elbows on his knees, Mingyu swirls his capless coffee cup, the beige liquid moving in a growing tornado. “I like Dr. Cho.”

“You—”

“I know,” he laughs loud, a deep, echoing sound that shakes in your ears. “I know. I sound like a lunatic.”

“I don’t know about lunacy, but insanity can have its reasons.”

“Another would argue that insanity was the very absence of reason.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Excuse me for doing my job.”

He takes another sip of his coffee, and you ask again, “No, but really. I can’t imagine this man having too many redeeming qualities as an educator.”

Mingyu lifts his chin as he presses his lips together. “When I was in my first year, there was this other class I had where we had to write a lab report for the first time.”

“PSYCH101?”

“That’s the one. I’d never written one before, but I liked statistics enough to do a little more digging than what the assignment called for. I ended up finding one of Dr. Cho’s studies, read the entire thing, word for word. I was up all night reading nearly everything he’d published, some of ‘em before any of us were even born.”

“Oh. So you’re a fan.”

“Everyone tells you to never meet your idols,” he snickers. “He’s done amazing things, but I guess he pays for it with his flawed personality.”

“I’m sorry it had to be you,” you half joke.

Mingyu looks at you sheepishly, “That might also be my own fault.”

“Don’t tell me you offered.”

“I might as well have. All my assignments referenced his work the most. I was always talking to him about upcoming research after class, and it was like he was a different person. Forget differing opinions, some of what he was saying was just…plain incorrect. He welcomed the argument though, and I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true. He was always emailing me extra resources which…I’m pretty sure he isn’t supposed to do. Only reason I did so well in his class was because I taught myself.”

He sighs a loud sigh, straightening his back, “I guess he liked me more than I thought, because next thing I know I’m getting a call over the summer telling me I have a job.”

“Did he…have a TA when you were in his class?”

“Four.”

“Four?!”

“Two at a time. All of ‘em quit at some point. Said they didn’t want the recommendation or the pay.”

“Would he…not give you a recommendation anyway? You said he liked you.”

Mingyu shakes his head solemnly, “He’s a tough cookie, everyone in the field knows that. If you’ve impressed him, you’ve impressed everyone.”

You take a moment to really absorb everything you’ve just learned. “That’s a sucky position you’re in.”

“Tell me about it. But it’s okay. Three—three and a half more months to go? This isn’t even the worst of it, I’m just dreading study week when I’m gonna have to handle all the crying.”

You wince as he mentions something even remotely close to exam season, still barely at a stage where you can accept you’d be alright with this class.

“I know you’re not nearly as qualified or experienced as him, but I think you could take over his class.”

“Ever heard of barriers to entry? I’d be ruined if I wanted a career in this.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “All I’m saying is I’ve learned more from you in barely a couple hours combined than the last two months I’ve spent cursing this very lecture hall.”

If you weren’t lying to yourself, you could’ve sworn you saw a blush creep up his face, and paired with his shy laugh and hand at the back of his neck, you can’t help but bite back your own smile.

“If I can help you then it’s worth losing myself.”

Your heart is in your fucking throat.

“I’m glad when students tell me that,” he continues, utterly oblivious to the landslide happening in your digestive tract. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re—” you swallow thickly because you sound like a toad. “You’re doing more than just something right. You’re saving us therapy and an extra semester.”

He laughs at that, and you wish he’d let you breathe.

“Feels like I’m doing something wrong sometimes,” he huffs. “My friend’s a TA too and he’s got himself a girlfriend on top of everything else he’s got going on.”

He goes on, “Do you know how many times I need to ask people to quit twirling their hair? To look at the page and not my face? Asking for my number, I have an email for a reason, for fuck’s sake—”

Mingyu is cut off because you’re laughing, hand to mouth as your shoulders shake through your sniggering. “W–what?”

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “It’s just…It sounds like you don’t know what you look like.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” he frowns.

“Nothing!” you exclaim. “But that’s the problem isn’t it.”

Mingyu doesn’t seem to buy it, even through your coaxing as you attempt to explain to him that he is, in fact, desirable.

“Can’t possibly be enough to distract people,” he huffs in earnest, still hung up on the students he can’t get through to.

“Majority of the class would beg to differ.”

There’s a pause as he registers what you imply.

After a few moments, he drops his head, opening his mouth, “Would… you also—”

There’s a loud creak of the door as you hear the immediate noises of shuffling feet and chattering mouths, as low and tired as they sounded. Turning back to look at Mingyu, he’s already jumped out of his seat, wrist to face as he checks the time on the same leather strap watch you returned.

“That’s our cue,” you breathe, pushing your chair back behind the professor’s desk as you manoeuvre around Mingyu who’s suddenly frantic.

Of course you realise there’s people other than just the two of you in the room, heightened in seats that are designed to ensure they can absorb every detail that goes on right where you stand in the front of the room.

But you feel the soft of Mingyu’s shirt over his wrist as you give him a gentle squeeze despite it all, barely enough pressure. Half your index finger brushes the skin of his hand, just enough to register how cold your fingertips are and how warm his body is.

“Relax,” you whisper. “You’ll be better off without all the panic.”

You don’t see his face as you brush past him and up to your seat, looking up to see him disappear somewhere in the corner hunched over another stack of papers. The next time you see Mingyu’s face is when the professor arrives and has begun his regularly scheduled tomfoolery, and realise all the age that can accumulate in the span of five minutes.

Thursday

Midterm season is nothing you’ve ever really had to worry about.

Something about the halfway point did make it obvious that the clock was ticking, but danger was far enough away to prevent the ultimate breakdowns reserved for the peak seasons.

Except this class isn’t ordinary, and it’s all you’re able to worry about all semester. And as Dr. Cho in his Thrasher vest announces the date for the in class midterm, the glass once half empty, suddenly looks very half full.

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re more ready than anyone else in class.”

“How do you know that?”

Mingyu stares at you blankly, “If I don’t know that, then who else does?”

You have tears in your eyes, which is embarrassing enough since this is the second time you’ve teared up in front of him, but also because you’re in a library following Mingyu around like a lost duck because he insists on putting the books he borrowed back onto the shelves himself after registering the return.

“But I don’t feel like I’m ready,” you whine, turning the corner as he searches for the last spot to place his final book.

“You’ll realise just how ready you are when all those hieroglyphs on the page start to make sense to you,” he grunts the last bit out as he reaches on his tippy toes to shove the book back up.

Dusting his hands off, he adjusts his shirt before turning to you, “You only feel that way because I’ve been giving you harder problems to work on. You’re past the level you need to be at right now. Trust me, you’re more than prepared.”

“But—”

“Listen,” he waves to the librarian as you both leave the library, your eyes still glistening as you fiddle with your sleeves. “It’s only the midterm—”

“Only the—”

“If this goes wrong, I’m just gonna have to work you harder for the real thing. Even though I know it won’t go wrong because I said so.”

You fall into silence as he walks you towards the coffee shop across the courtyard.

“I’m assuming…” you start.

“Hm?” he looks over to you.

“I’m assuming you can’t hint at what’s on the paper.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh of disbelief, “You assume correct. I’m not going through hell with this job just to lose it because of a paper leak.”

“But it’s just the midterm,” you mumble, not even close to remotely audible.

“What did you say?” Mingyu smirks.

“Nothing,” you huff.

“You know, I’m a little offended you don’t trust me.”

“Who said I didn’t.”

“Well then, stop being such a worrywart.”

There must be something written on your face, because as you pass Mingyu standing at the door he keeps open for you, entering into the coffee shop with fallen shoulders, he seems to change his mind.

He brings you a coffee, sits you down, and gives you something else you need. “I made the paper. Every question. And I taught you. Every concept. So I definitely know you’re gonna be fine.”

In that moment, with the large glass walls of the warm coffee shop, the afternoon sun comfortably resting on every last object of the room, you don’t see it illuminate anything other than the man before you.

Perhaps you're being dramatic at the revelation, but you don’t take anything into account as you note Mingyu’s eyes and how they sparkle like they were gifted from the centre of a flaming volcano, brown and polished more than any jewel or stone you’d ever seen. Reaching out to touch him, you know you’d feel nothing but smooth stone, the indentations only possible by a being beyond what you could comprehend.

He’d given you more than just reassurance, and at times, his timing makes it feel like he was sent from the heavens itself, just for you.

You sniffle.

His hands brush over yours as he hands you a napkin, and even more so, cover your own as he takes your freezing fingertips into his own palm, the contact burning you like hot coal.

You know he’s real. And you don’t know why quite just yet, but that reassurance is enough to give you calm.

Monday

You were alright, but it seems that Mingyu seemed to disintegrate right after he was done reassuring you to the moon and Saturn and Jupiter and back.

It’s midterm day, and as always on every Monday morning, you enter the empty lecture hall with two warm coffees in your hand, ready for whatever shitshow you’d have to perform for today.

It seems Mingyu must defect from at least one regular string of behaviour to remain as Mingyu, who on this occasion, stands before you in a baby blue polo sweater.

Except you only know that because you can see the unique collar, but it might also be important that his back is turned towards you.

“Morning, champ,” he gruffs, nothing encouraging about his voice in the slightest.

Your breath hitches when you finally see his face, eyes sunken in and face pale. His lips are chapped and peeling, eyes half closed.

“Why’re you looking at me like that, why has everyone been looking at me like that?” he huffs in one long, rapid question.

“Um, I mean,” you stare at his shirt that’s backwards. And inside out. “I can’t tell if that’s a choice or a mistake.”

Looking down at his front, he looks back up, “What?”

“Your collar is…not at your collar, Mingyu. And your shirt’s inside out.”

Hand at his nape, he reaches his fingers down and finds the unmistakable starched planes of his collar, eyes closing at the realisation. He’s immediately pulling his arms out of the shirt with his eyes still closed like it’d all disappear if he keeps them like that.

“Wait!” you exclaim before he strips entirely, scrambling to put your coffees down to push him out of the room towards the restrooms. “Do you wanna strip for the CCTVs?”

You only hear him sigh as he moves out and into the hall, doors closed behind him.

You’ve nearly forgotten about the midterm at this point, your concern now growing in a completely different direction. By the time Mingyu returns, he’s blabbing about wondering why everyone he ran into since he left home was giving him the strangest looks, and then something about you always swooping in to save him before the real bout of disaster strikes.

It’s hard for you to listen to him when you’re more worried about him passing out, his face doing him no favours to reassure you that he wasn’t a breathing corpse.

“Mingyu…did you sleep at all?”

“Hm?” His eyes are glazed over and unfocused.

“Sleep? Rest?”

“Oh,” he frowns. “Not really. I had emails coming in all night.”

“And you were replying?”

“It's the midterm today,” he responds flatly, like it should’ve been enough explanation.

You almost don’t believe him. “Doesn’t mean you stay up to answer something that should’ve been cleared out beforehand!”

“Couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves,” he dramatises.

“Yes, you could!” Your voice comes out louder than you expected, eyes wide as you realise what he’s doing to himself. “You barely look human and it’s only the midterm.”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“I don’t know if this job is really worth as much as you think it is.”

Mingyu’s jaw is clenched, fists tight as he releases them to grip paper weight on the desk, knuckles white. “I can’t get anywhere if I don’t—”

“Mingyu, please. This isn’t good for you.”

He says your name. Declarative, almost like a warning. “If you think this job isn’t worth it then you just don’t know.”

“Mingyu—”

“No, you don’t, because I’ve seen how good of a job I’ve been doing.”

“You have, you’ve been amazing but—”

Mingyu’s own voice is raised, a hard impenetrable floor to the words he spills. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You look like a corpse!”

And then he’s getting out of his chair with so much force it almost knocks it backwards, “Why on earth do you care so much? So what if I look like a corpse, if I‘m doing my job?”

It might’ve been better if he knocked the chair right into you, your breath dissipating in your chest like it never existed. His face is morphed in an expression of exasperation your anxieties fear the most, every line on his face committed to irritation and anger.

Why on earth do you care so much?

Right. Why do you?

“Are you asking me that?”

“What?”

“Are you asking me why I care?”

Mingyu only sighs, shoulders dropping and eyes closed. Like so many times before, you watch run a hand through his hair, except this time he yanks on the strands harder than ever before.

His eyes are bloodshot.

“I have to get the exam pack.”

Marching out the door in front of your own eyes, you’re left with a feeling that’s right in the back of your throat, curling and whirling into something you wish you could hack and gag out. Gripping the corner of the professor’s desk, you feel the peeling wood cut into your skin.

There’s a draft, the delayed slam of the door has only hit its wind now, a delayed reaction. It’s like it registers in your mind as you feel strands of your hair shift, the clarity that comes with it.

Delusive. Chimeric. Cruel.

Everything you’d subjected upon yourself. A whimsical fantasy between pages of logic and numbers, a story that simply didn’t fit where the laws wouldn’t allow it.

The null hypothesis of your most elaborate nightmares.

Monday

Your favourite commonplace box, where your mother once placed all her most prized jewels, had a finicky latch.

It wasn’t broken, simply worn in from years of opening and closing. It took a few tries to get it shut. Simply pressing down with pressure didn’t work; you had to open it again, press down on the individual elements of the latch and then try again.

You were never satisfied until you heard the distinct click of the latch fixing itself, the box closed and ready for you to hook your lock through.

Earlier on in your undergraduate career, you remember a professor talking about the effects of external factors on the mind, how they can sometimes cause it to ‘shut down’ when overwhelmed or stressed.

It’s happened to you on many a occasion; like when you stayed up too late on a school night to watch a documentary about the Stanford prison experiment, or when you’d neglect food or water on busier days, or when you’d stop paying attention in class because you were too preoccupied thinking about Taco Tuesday.

Regardless, you’d found a way to recognise when your brain would fall into some strange kahoots with daydreams, or whatever was bothering you, and learned ways to give yourself a reset.

Pressuring and forcing the attention wouldn’t work, just like how the latch wouldn’t fit when you’d do the same with your beloved old box. So you’d take a walk, drink something cold, spray yourself with a garden hose, or even take a nap altogether. Opening yourself up, so the latch can finally click.

On the morning of your midterm, when you’d ensured your brain was in optimal condition for the exam you knew would be one of the worse ones you’ll have to take, you were sure the only external force that could ruin your vibe was from God himself.

Having been so preoccupied with your mind and its functions, you’d seemed to have forgotten where your heart had wandered off to.

Somebody else might consider it a minor disagreement; an anxious squabble if you will. But your breakfast in your throat was enough reason to deem what happened that morning much more than that. At least for you.

“Pass it on, please…pass it on, please.”

The sound of his voice is tectonic. Rattling in your head like a superior force had slammed into your skull like a padded hammer to a gong.

You hated it. You hated everything. You hated yourself. And as the midterm paper reaches you with your pen in your clawed fingers, the first three questions already making perfect sense, you realise you hated Kim Mingyu the most.

That was a lie. You were lying to yourself, yet again.

Because it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t hate him.

As you drift past every question of conditional experiments and screenshots of data and tables on a software, you hardly remember what you circle and what you don’t. Hardly remember what words you picked for the short answers and labels. You hardly remember taking the steps down from your seat to the front of the room, where the professor sat scrolling through his Skateboarders [!MEN ONLY!] facebook group, placing your paper down and leaving the classroom.

Throughout your years of living, you’d learned what you needed to get your brain out of its clouded muffle, to refocus when you needed it.

Everything. You tried everything.

But on that day, when it mattered most, your latch never clicked.

It’s Wednesday.

You order lunch from the Italian place a few streets down. Ravioli; it’s safe and you know you’ll like it.

Savouring it is easy in front of another true crime show. You pull a lone soft drink from your fridge, one that your friend left weeks ago. It tastes just as bad as the last time you tasted it from someone else’s cup, but you drink it anyway, the empty can now in your trash.

It’s 3:30 PM, and you sit at your desk. It’s strange. It feels like you’re missing something, which in ways, you are. But as you pull your laptop from your nightstand instead of out of your bag, you slow your movements.

The papers are the same. But you read them anyway.

Parameter estimation: Make inferences on characteristics of the population, including distributions of the variables and the effect of one variable over another.

It’s accursed the way the universe won’t let you live.

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, estimation cannot be perfect.

Estimation cannot be perfect.

[_]

It’s Thursday

Class. Eat. Drink. Work.

Hypothesis testing: Determine whether null hypothesis is rejected or not after data observation.

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, no null hypothesis in bayesian approach!!

[_]

It’s Friday

Eat. Drink. Work.

Latent means to have meaning but is yet to be manifested. The greek letters are placeholder values for values yet unknown.

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue; values that you will find out

[_]

It’s Saturday

Eat. Drink. Work.

P(A|B) = [P(B|A)P(A)

——————

P(B)

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

it gets less complicated

promise :/

[_]

It’s Sunday.

Eat. Drink. Work.

The page is blurry. Your eyes hurt.

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

you’ve got this!!! < 3

You give up.

It’s Monday.

8:14 AM.

You barely glance at the front of the room; swift turn to the left and right up the steps. Dr. Cho’s outfit almost goes unnoticed by you, tamer than most. Bright Barbie pink with large polka dots, untucked into too tight white jeans. His crocs are sparkly, at least that’s what the twinkle from up here looks like.

He’s insulting another author, the man’s ProQuest journal article open for the world to see like a mediaeval scandal.

There’s another person next to the whiteboards, back to the wall, hands clasped in front of him. His hair is messy, shooting lasers into the carpet as he rocks the slightest bit, listening to the professor rip this author to shreds.

An hour later, you’re staring into the JASP software like it was written in a different language.

Glancing next to you, the boy in the spongebob hoodie is playing sharkboy and lavagirl by himself. On your other side, the girl has the same thing as you open on her laptop, her pen occupied with drawing about a hundred tiny gojos on a bright pink sticky note.

Bright pink sticky note.

You snap your gaze back to your screen quickly after that.

9:58 AM. You start packing up, shoving everything into your bag.

Dr. Cho doesn’t even notice you slip out of the room, hardly a minute to the end of the lecture.

In the hallway, you take your first real breath in two hours.

It’s Tuesday.

You’ve come down with something, head heavy as you feel yourself burn up. Skipping class is easy when you sleep through your alarm and every phone call from a friend asking where you are.

They drop by, armed with medicine and soup. You almost feel better.

It’s silent after they leave, and you realise in that moment how much you hate it.

Opening your laptop for the first time in over 24 hours, you turn on a random podcast to play in the background, needing something to fill the air before you lose it entirely.

The screen lands right where you left on the incredulous data presentation, unsolved tutorial paper crumpled between the screen and keyboard like a wilted leaf.

Hot, scalding tears sting your eyeballs when you realise there was nowhere to turn to.

It’s Wednesday.

After a long day of doing nothing, still sick from whatever plagued your body, you go to bed earlier than usual.

It’s Thursday.

Walking out of class, your mind is empty. You’re still sniffling, still achey, but better than you were. The shawl wrapped around you is warm, and your hood covers the cold tips of your ears.

This other class makes you feel better about yourself, especially when the content is digestible and so is the professor. The TA feels like a mere accessory in the room, something you’ve learned to appreciate.

With your gaze lowered, you only see midriffs as you walk out the classroom into the busy hallway.

It happens in an instant, the flash of a clenched hand as the owner walks by in quick stride. An unmistakable leather strap watch with a broken clock face on the wrist.

You freeze like you’ve been caught.

The hard bump of someone coming out the room behind you is welcomed, the annoyed “Hey!” knocking you back to earth before you could even exit the dimension.

You’re off centre. But it’s fine.

It’s Monday.

“Midterm results are out Tuesday morning. If you have any questions I’ll be sitting at office hours on Wednesday and Thursday, four to six in the evening. Or you could send me an email, either’s fine.”

Dr. Cho isn’t here. Something you only found out when the pitt sank in your stomach as Mingyu cleared his throat at the full hour.

You want to leave, not caring about how strange it’d look if you did. Not caring about how he would definitely notice if you did. You want him to shut up, to stop talking, for anything to halt the way his voice infiltrates your entire being, talking about things you don’t understand but more familiar than anything else.

Mingyu’s voice is hoarse, and you loathe the way you can tell the difference.

It’s Tuesday.

Midterm Results for Statistics in Psychological Research.

— 92/100

It’s Wednesday.

4:10 PM. It’s almost too much for you. Almost.

The screech of the door is loud, the slam of the handle’s rebound even more so. The room doesn’t so much as glance at you at the door, the half full seats preoccupied with more important things.

The front desk perks up immediately, eyes shooting towards the door for the nth time that day, like he was expecting someone that never seemed to show up.

It’s ironic, you think, how Mingyu never seemed to notice you walk into the room for the many months you’ve walked in just for him. And now, as you walk in fists clenched and jaw set, eyes wild and burning, he’s breaking away from a student to look at the door before you even come into view.

“Did you feel bad?” you spit.

“What?” he whispers. He seems to come around, glancing back before continuing, “Can we talk? Please.”

“Answer the question, Mingyu,” you snap. You don’t care there’s a confused student sitting right across from the both of you, his slot interrupted by your barge. “Did you feel so bad you had to give me something I didn’t earn?”

He’s stood up now, half confused. “Is this about the midterm—”

“I did not get a ninety two, I know I didn’t,” you grit. “Whatever happened before that stupid paper made sure I wouldn’t.”

Mingyu says your name and the sound makes you want to vomit. “What makes you think I’d do something like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I fucked up because of you?” you announce, louder than before.

The world disappeared, your tunnel vision pointed at Mingyu’s face that wears an expression you cannot even begin to read. The unbecoming tears in your eyes are of a type of unadulterated rage you’ve felt only a few times before. Your heart is going about a million miles a breath, everything else only triggering an added bout of infuriated tremble in the forefront of your emotions. Nothing makes sense.

Mingyu pushes back his chair in silence, stalking over to a large cupboard in the corner of the room. He shuffles around for a minute before returning.

There’s a packet being thrust into your fists when he reaches you. He does not meet your eyes.

A bright red 92/100 marks the front page.

“Here. It was all you, if you can’t believe me.”

It’s a careful mark, unmistakable lines and curves of the nine and the two.

Reality is slow to sink in, but for some reason it’s only making you angrier. The paper curls under the pressure of your fingertips. You don’t open the packet. You refuse to flick through the pages.

Because you know you’ve lost.

It’s Thursday. And it’s full of regret.

There’s a sickness in you, from that dreaded day, something beyond what affects your body temperature and your energy. It’s in your mind, flooding the nerves that swim through every crevice and cave of your brain, a physical venom that does the opposite of kill but also the opposite of letting you live.

There’s a feeling in you, that even if you were to open your mouth, unhinge your jaw, try to scream as loud as your throat would allow, there would be no sound. Something like a horrible dream, that you need to screw your eyes tight shut to fall out of. Except you aren’t waking up from this one.

In a coffee shop, where Mingyu held your hand in a reassurance you now bleed for, you were sure he was real. Real like some deiform image; too good to be true.

In your bed, dry tears on your face, midterm packet sifted through that showed you absolutely everything that you did right, thanks to him. He feels too real. Real like a cloud of obsidian that follows you everywhere, like the sad that’s been sleeping with you every night.

If there was a way to hate someone more than a human limit, you’ve crossed it with the resentment you’ve now fostered for yourself.

Barging into office hours like that, accusing him on a basis of nothing but your own dangerously stewed thoughts. If there was a hope of salvaged parts, you took a hammer to it in disregard; tearing it to ribbons that lay at your feet.

It’s Friday.

At least it was. It bled into Saturday before you realised the 3:23 AM on the dial.

Two weeks of no help and you already feel lightyears behind. The hour is getting to you, and you feel the frustration pool into tears, that turn into full fledged sobs. You’re crying over Bayesian inference and it’s somehow more pressing than any other emotion you’ve ever felt.

Impossible numbers on your data sheets taunt you, not a single reference to if it was a button you clicked wrong or if you were playing a fool’s game altogether.

Ding! You pick up your phone, the weight of it is enough gravity to pull you back to earth.

[Mingyu]: switch to bF10

[Mingyu]: you’ve been pulling numbers from bF01

It’s immediate the way your eyes dart towards your lit screen, clicking off tables to get to the drop down menu you need. And there on the left, two tiny buttons, one clicked on bF01.

With shaking fingers, you move your cursor to hover over the tiny bF10, anticipating. You click. It takes a moment for the numbers to change, but they do. The nominal values turn into something you can actually work with.

Something akin to a tut leaves you, hidden in the breath of another sob. It’s stupid, unreasonable, absurd. Your fingers hover over your phone, shaking as tears drop onto the screen, faster than before.

Do you not miss me?

Do you not want me around?

Talk to me

I miss you

Please talk to me

“I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true.”

Mingyu is a product of his personality. You can only imagine he’s helped because he saw you struggling in class, heard from someone else, or perhaps, he just knew the very thing you’d make blunders out of.

The reasons come to you, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. Then why does it hurt? Why does it feel like the knife’s twisted a full 360, that despite the way you accused him of the thing that would strip him of everything he’s bruised himself for, he helps you. The very thing that caused this rift in the first place.

There’s a reason for that, and it is again, that Mingyu is a product of his personality.

It’s Saturday.

Perhaps you relied on your olfactory senses to remain calm, because you always knew you could count on a coffee shop to forever and always smell the same.

The universe seems to want to ruin that for you too.

“Latte, please,” you voice. “Iced.”

“We have a one plus one for the week! Would you like to receive another latte?” The lady taking your order looks no older than 17, a pep in her voice.

“Um, no thank you. Just one, please.”

She looks taken aback, a reasonable reaction to anyone turning down a free drink. But you couldn’t bring yourself to walk home with two cups in hand.

You’re plucking a napkin from the pickup counter when you hear his name.

“...that he manipulated her grade because they were hooking up.”

“He has time to hook up?”

“I remember hearing about that! She barged in during office hours and asked why he fixed her grade or something.”

“A ninety two? In that class? Oh, they were definitely fooling around with each other.”

“Whatever, at least we know he’ll entertain you if he likes you enough. I’m just glad those two are over so I can swoop in.”

There’s an eruption of giggles. You press your head down further.

“Unless he flirts in variables.”

“All is forgiven when you’re born with a face like that.”

Another explosion of giddy laughter, through which your drink is slid across the counter towards you, like it was waiting for you to hear the damning evidence before you could leave. You grab it anyway, grip tighter than usual.

Turning around, your eyes search, finding a group of people that sit in smiles and in various states of trust-falls.

There she is, the girl you sat with on the first day you attended office hours, the one with the glitter gel pen doodles on her notes and her blatant fawns over the TA you slipped under just as easily.

She locks eyes with you and her face falls, eyes widening the slightest bit in recognition.

Pressing your lips into a smile, you hope it doesn’t look as menacing as you feel. You don’t wait for a response before you walk out the large glass doors.

It’s Sunday.

It seems every sip of water you’ve taken during the week has been used up in all the tears you’ve seemed to be shedding. By the bucketload.

Alas, even blurry and puffy eyed, you pour over statistical formulas anyway, running on no energy and all antagonism. It’s another tutorial sheet left incomplete, a single question taking a pour that lasts in at least an hour of struggle.

Reading the same question for the nth time, your palms press into your temples as you stare lasers into the paper, like the revelation would come to you if you stared it down hard enough. It doesn’t make sense, the commands you’ve toggled on and off identical to the instructions on the page.

Hence the question begs why the data was coming out like someone pressed the ultimate on a number generator.

With a heat of unreasonable embarrassment, you find yourself checking your selection in one of the drop down menus, switching to bF01 and back just to see the difference. It does nothing to help, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved it wasn’t that particular snag.

The library is as silent as it could possibly be on a Sunday morning, near empty as you occupy the mostly vacant seats. The librarian is having her own day off, as you could swear she’s playing computer games behind the counter instead of actual work.

The only noise in the room is your own breathing, and that seems to be enough to mess with your concentration. You’re going cross eyed staring at the page for so long, the words doubling and disappearing before going back to normal.

Bayesian inference…z scores…null hypothesis…

Wait.

It’s like you can see it in front of your eyes right now, the scribble of someone else’s dark blue on your notes.

no null hypothesis in bayesian approach

Bayesian approaches don’t use null hypotheses. And z scores are in…

“Oh my god, this is a t test,” you whisper to yourself in disbelief. Immediately, you’re scrambling to shake your laptop out of its sleep, switching over to a t test to redo everything, following the instructions on the same data set.

And there it was…a clear 0.067 under the p value.

In a moment of questioning, you laugh out a breathy sound, the absurdity of it all becoming too real. T tests were the first thing you learned, the foundation to all your statistical knowledge. Coming so far, and it took you days to realise the instructions under a Bayesian approach were for a different realm entirely.

It was stupid of you. But in this difficult aftermath you can’t help but feel victorious. Laughing to yourself quietly in this empty library.

When the initial adrenaline fades and you’ve double, triple checked to ensure you were right, you can only stare at the tiny mail button in your shortcuts on the screen. It was clearly an error, one that was given out to nearly a hundred students.

The first step was clicking, your inbox coming to life as you drift towards the big blue button with the readily available NEW MAIL. So you click.

There’s an attached file in the email you draft.

The tutorial paper has titled t test instructions as a Bayesian approach. Just wanted to point it out and ask if I could receive a corrected version.

Regards, YN

It’s almost like you’re trying to remember how it feels like when you type an experimental m in the To bar. His name pops up immediately, email address typed out in full, full name clear on top as a regular contact.

You don’t need a suggestion to remember, his email came easier to you than your own.

But you don’t email him, backspacing till it’s empty once again.

Dr. Cho’s email sits in that place instead, a first for you.

SEND.

You don’t expect him to reply on a Sunday, in fact, you aren’t sure if he’s going to respond at all. You’ve already shut your laptop, half out of your seat in an attempt to pack up. You’re forced to consider.

Would it be terrible to go back and cc him as well?

A spiteful part of you might find joy in correcting him for a change. The rational part of you wants to actually finish the tutorial before tomorrow’s class when you’d have to tackle another beast for the rest of the week.

Sitting back down, you move without thinking. Your mind is still cooking up possibilities as you swing your screen open once again, still weighing as you click back into your inbox.

There’s a new email in your sent box after you’re done, a copy of the one you sent your professor, the same attachment and the same question; word for word. The only difference, a more familiar name in the address bar.

Before you can chicken out, you slam your laptop shut for the actual last time, shoving everything into your bag before the speeding thoughts can infiltrate your mind's barrier. You’re out the door before you know it, ready to be done with this.

You’re afraid if you put a hand to your stomach it’d be met with kicks and punches, especially with the way you feel the aggressive cartwheels slashing away at your insides. The butterflies are making it to the end of your food pipe, and you briefly wonder if you need to break into a sprint to make it to a safe throwing up zone. Your entire being jolts as you feel a buzz in your hands, a loud click that signifies a new email in your inbox.

Right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, you stop.

The grip you have on your phone is unyielding, your fingers beginning to hurt from the pressure. There’s no way to tell if you’re shaking or not, but you bring your phone to your face anyway. The screen flips on, a lone notification on the screen.

RE: Tutorial Error from Kim Mingyu

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since you sent that email, the library still in sight from where you stand. At the same time, it’s almost funny you expected any different from him.

The kicks and punches in your stomach halt, the cartwheels have calmed, the butterflies have fallen asleep. The grip on your phone has loosened, and it’s like every nerve in your body went from on fire to serenity in a whiplash inducing shift.

Clicking on the notification, the email opens.

Noted. I have another tutorial sheet for you if you want it. I’ll be in the room where office hours are held for the rest of the morning.

Kim Mingyu, T.A.

There was no way he didn’t have a softcopy he could send you in less than a minute, and you’re sure he knew you’d realise that too. You should scoff, be upset, roll your eyes.

But instead, you find your feet making a 180, turning around to go right back to where you came from. You walk, eyes still half trained on the email, reading and rereading as you walk back onto campus, towards the building you’d once considered a second home.

You walk, and walk and walk, in through the doors, up the stairs and then another set of them, you take a left and look up. The hallway is empty, the door on the right coming into view as you slow your steps significantly.

Closer and closer, you realise the light surrounding it is brighter than usual. The door is open, and you can see the empty rows of tables and chairs, set neatly against one another. It’s strange, you’ve never seen it wide open before.

Walking even closer, you can see the beginnings of the professor’s desk come into view, and it only takes you one more step forward.

Standing in the doorway now, you find yourself in the direct path of the sun that pours in through the open windows. It’s warm, but just enough to combat the cooling weather.

The desk up front is occupied, as it always is.

Mingyu is only in a t-shirt and trousers, glasses perched on his nose as he scrawls away on the paper in front of him. His laptop is turned on, screen facing the door where you stand, his inbox open and available even on the weekend.

It wasn’t that you were waiting for him to notice, but you found yourself inadvertently taking your time looking at him. Every other situation, you’d done your absolute best to avoid your eyes grazing over him at all costs, hardly drifting over his form before flitting away. You never did it on purpose, but it was more like you were unconsciously protecting yourself.

Like looking at him would only make the ache in your heart worse.

If that was the case, you would’ve been right. There’s a tug in your chest, and in that moment, it all comes flooding in like a gate destroyed.

Mingyu looks up and sees you in the doorway, standing immobile. He sets his pen down, taking his glasses off. There’s the smallest hint of a smile on his face as he greets you, “‘Morning.”

You take it as your cue to move forward, stepping foot into the patch of sun slowly. “‘Morning.”

You reach the desk, standing in front of him, the only thing blocking you being the littered table with files, papers and stationary; the trench between you both.

It’s so silent it tears at your insides, gripping the strap of your bag to have something to do.

“I, uh, double checked when I saw the email. You were right, nobody noticed in class either.” There’s an airiness in his voice, like he might be struggling just as much as you are right now.

He clears his throat when you don’t respond, looking back down at his workspace like he was looking for something. He finds a paper from some stack, handing it over to you.

“Thanks,” you hoarse. It’s the same tutorial you had, except the instructions had been crossed out, replaced by a list of handwritten instructions instead, detailed in their annotation. You recognise it, because of course you’d recognise his handwriting.

“I didn’t have time to print one out right now. I’ll probably send a corrected copy to everyone tonight,” he explains.

“That’s alright.” You look up, lips pressed together, eyebrows forced into a regular position on your face. Nodding, you thank him once again. “Thanks again. I’ll…get going.”

Every fibre in your body screams at you to turn back around, hollering profanities at your inability to deal with this. You’re already halfway to the door though, and your pride’s already deemed it too late.

Please stop me, please stop me, please stop me, please just say something and stop me—

There it is. Your name, from his mouth, in his beautiful voice.

Turning back around is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

Mingyu has stood up from his seat, out from behind the desk. He looks like he wasn’t expecting you to turn back. “Can we talk?”

And then he’s pulling out the chair he was sitting on, presenting it like a piece offering. If you heard correctly, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice break the slightest bit when he pressed, “Please?”

So there you were, in a position all too familiar as you sit across from the man that’s haunted you for the past weeks, trying to keep your chest from falling in.

“I guess I should start with an apology,” he’s fidgeting with his own fingers. “I don’t need to give you excuses about stress or exhaustion because…”

He closes his eyes, trying to find the words. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You were only trying to help and I was too preoccupied with myself to notice. I’m sorry I spoke to you like that when you didn’t deserve it.”

For about the millionth time, you realise you’re tearing up again. He continues. “And then…right before the midterm too. You were right, I did feel horrible. But I swear that grade was all you, I didn’t touch those numbers.”

He really didn’t, because the papers he had thrust into your hands on that fateful day in this very room proved that you earned that mark. You wince regardless.

“I thought I could apologise before the exam started but I couldn’t find you, and then you were gone right after. I didn’t text or call because I was sure I’d fucked it all up.”

“I’m sorry too. For barging in in front of everyone and basically accusing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” You look up from your lap, wet lashes and all. “I really hope you didn’t get into any trouble.”

“I–no, I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I promise I didn’t.” He locked eyes with you when he said that, hoping you’d believe him. You nod slowly.

“It wasn’t even that bad, what you said,” you sniffled.

He scoffs at that, “I’d beg to differ.”

“I would’ve gotten over it,” you continue, bracing yourself to admit to something you’ve had trouble admitting to yourself. “I should’ve gotten over it. I don’t know why it hurt so much, why watching you walk out felt so horrible. But I haven’t been acting like normal ever since, and I’m sorry for stretching this whole fiasco out into something that didn’t need to turn into…this!”

“You were hurt because I hurt you.”

“People have said worse things to me. And you were practically a zombie, I should’ve just left it for another time. It was a little bit my fault too. But…yeah.”

There’s a silence as you try to remind yourself to breathe. You speak up again. “I just want us to go back to normal. I’ve missed you. Alot.”

“Me too. The go back to normal bit. And the…missed you bit.”

Mingyu’s half smiling when you look up, biting your lip hard as you try to keep a smile of your own at bay. “I’d thought if I gave up and admitted I was struggling that day, that’d be admitting defeat. That you’d think I…couldn’t do it.”

Why on earth do you care so much? It rings in your ears.

You sound light when you say it though, knowing now it wasn’t what he meant.“Since when are we on caring terms?”

Mingyu cringes. "We are. I am, at least, if you aren't anymore, which is fine. I care about you. A lot."

It’s hard to not let out a laugh. He looks half constipated as he tries to navigate his words.

“Oh well I’d hope you’d care, since you’re my TA and all.”

“Not in a TA way.”

“Tutor way.”

“Um.”

“Friend way? A human way?”

“No.”

You both know you’re being obtuse on purpose, and you aren’t sure why. Maybe you just like to watch him squirm.

“You know what?” he rasps.

“What?”

Your answer comes in the form of Mingyu lurching to grab the legs of your chair, pulling the wheels to crash into him where he sits. You’re not expecting it, the clashing legs causing you to swerve forward, hands on Mingyu’s lap.

And then his hand is on the back of your neck, and his lips placed on your own.

You’re stiff as a board, brain computing the fact that Mingyu is kissing you in a classroom.

It’s short, hardly a few moments before he pulls away. “Does that clear things up?”

There’s nothing you can do but blink at him, the reality of it all settles in. “Hm.”

He laughs at your half dazed state. It’s a purely instinctual part of you that speaks after this. “Maybe one more time. To make sure.”

Mingyu doesn’t even wait to laugh again as he wastes no time, putting his mouth on yours properly this time. There’s more of a drive in you this time, moving your mouth against his and he keeps your head close.

The ecstasy is slow but sure to build in your stomach. Mingyu is kissing you. Mingyu is sitting with you and kissing you so good you’re already half faint.

His mouth tastes like coffee and remnants of berry, a combination you can’t believe you could enjoy this much. Licking into his mouth, you let your tongue drag over his, like the tactile would convince you this wasn’t some too vivid fever dream.

He pulls away for a moment, but hardly so as his lips remain pressed onto yours.

“For the record,” he pants. “I love that you care. And I hope you’ll keep caring. Because I don’t think I can handle it if you walk away after this.”

Mouth back on his own, you decide there’s only one way to convince him you weren’t going anywhere without dragging him with you.

MINGYU'S APARTMENT IS CLEANER than you expected. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, perhaps more mad scientist than anything else. But the most you find is a mug and plate in the sink, and a moderately crowded study desk, which is to be expected.

Mingyu decided to abandon his work for the day to spend it with you, to which you contest that it was Sunday anyway. His response is making you change into something comfortable of his so you could laze on his couch.

Like you would run away if he didn’t, Mingyu keeps his arms around you in a tight hold, fingers curling around your shoulders as you lay on top of him. Your head rests directly over his heart, his cheek and lips taking turns to occupy the top of your head.

You fill him in on everything, and realise the most eventful weeks you’ve spent were actually quite uneventful in hindsight. He feels up your cheek and forehead when you tell him you got sick at one point, to which you have to reassure him it was either something going around or stress that you subjected on yourself.

“I went to a frat party,” Mingyu mumbles into your forehead. “For Halloween.”

The information has you shifting to look up at him in bewilderment, “You went to a frat party?”

He snorts, “Dressed up for it too.”

“Oh my god,” you voice in mild horror. “Do I wanna know?”

“Wonwoo and I matched,” he hums as he pulls out his phone, scrolling his gallery to look for pictures. “I was Mario, he was Luigi.”

“How adorable.”

He only gives you a look and shoves the phone in your face. By some grace of god they aren’t wearing moustaches, but the distinct red and green outfits are enough to give you enough recognition.

“Thing 1 and Thing 2 were also possible contenders,” he informs.

“That might’ve been a little better.”

“What’s wrong with Mario?” he asks sharply.

“Nothing. But I do hope you weren’t sporting an Italian accent throughout that.”

“I was,” he pushes. “A horrible one too.”

You give him the satisfaction of an eye roll.

“You could’ve gone as Peach. We could’ve matched.”

“I don’t know if I’d wanna wear any available Peach costumes during Halloween time.” You crinkle your nose as you think of all the racy costumes that unearth every October.

“Maybe in private,” he says with an insufferable smile on his face.

Placing your hands flat on his chest, you rest your chin and look up at him. “I’m not sure I want to interrupt whatever you two have going on.”

“Who?”

“You and Wonwoo, you’re practically married.”

Mingyu laughs out loud, and you can feel the rumble in his chest against your hands, his body moving against your own that’s stuck to him. “Not with whatever he has going on with his girl.”

“Oh right,” you frown in remembrance. “What happened to not understanding how he does it?”

“Hm?”

“He’s a TA too. Probably just as busy as you. You said you didn’t know how he could juggle a relationship and his job at the same time.”

His eyes spark in remembrance, pausing for a moment. “I may owe him an apology.”

“Do you?”

Mingyu frowns, “Actually no I don’t. I don’t think he and his lady are doing too well right now. He’s been insufferable lately.”

“Is it because of the TA-ing?”

“I never know with those two,” he sighs.

There’s silence once again, in the midst of which Mingyu leans over to kiss you a few times, soft and lingering. Like he’s trying to familiarise himself with the shape of your mouth, the tactile feeling of kissing you.

“Do you…know about us?” There’s hesitancy in the way you ask. But you can’t help but ask anyway.

Mingyu thinks for a moment, and it has your heart beating out of your chest. “I know that I want us to be concrete. That I wanna work around whatever life throws at us. You can decide what to call it, but I know I’m in it for the long run.”

“I’m glad you’re smarter than your husband,” you smile.

He only rolls his eyes, “He’s only good at one kind of chemistry.”

“D’you think they’ll be okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he assures. “They’re just going through a…rough patch.”

“Like we did?”

“If you’re asking me, I’d say they’re being a little more stupid about it.”

The snort that leaves you is unanimous with his own. He continues, “They’ll be okay though.”

“I hope so. I’d like to go on double dates with my boyfriend’s husband’s girlfriend.” You start giggling in the middle of your sentence, too ridiculous even for you to voice.

“This is getting weird,” Mingyu breathes.

You only hum against his mouth, “Do I have to take your husband's blessing before we can move forward?”

“For fuck’s sake.”

You’re both laughing again, a sound that comes from your stomachs, true and uncontrollable. For a moment, you can’t help but be conscious of how light you feel, how happy you feel with his scent infiltrating your nostrils, his presence known where his fingertips touch you.

“I did the sticky note thing again too,” Mingyu says into the silence, and there’s nothing you can do to stop the fit of giggles that erupt all over again.

“Said something worse this time,” he continues as you laugh into his chest. “Accept that you’ll die alone or some other shit like that.”

There’s comfort in this moment. In your giggles and in your tears, in his voice and in his affection. His lips are another sanctuary you’ve found, and perhaps even another way to make your dreaded latch click.

Nose nuzzled in his cheek, the feeling of his skin so soft against yours, fingers at his chin where a slight stubble grows, you relax in ways you cannot comprehend.

MINGYU'S LIPS BECOME A feeling you’ve grown dangerously accustomed to.

It isn’t that he has them on you too much, regardless of what an outsider might suggest; to you they simply aren’t on you enough.

The following Monday went as usual, for you anyway. You weren’t avoiding Mingyu this time, and you were grateful for it. It was two hours of following him with your eyes as he darted around the room. You could hardly constitute it as not paying attention when Dr. Cho was preoccupied with explaining every reason he hates JASP over SPSS, but also ultimately, hates them both.

You don’t even notice his loud outfit (overalls and a neon green sweater underneath), happy to watch Mingyu flit about and whisper incoherent explanations to students.

The tutorial paper is barely looked at by you, because you know your boyfriend will be happy to help you out later at his place.

You’re barely through the door that night when he gets a hold of you, tight grip across your waist as you’re catapulted into his arms, door slammed shut behind you.

Bag still on your shoulders and your shoes still on, Mingyu’s slammed his mouth onto yours before you can take a proper breath. You stumble, squealing through the kiss as you realise you aren’t escaping the iron grip he’s got on your face.

Somehow between it all, you manage to slip your bag off to let it drop to the floor of his doorway, shoes kicked off one after the other as he leads you inside, littering the way.

“You aren’t actually paying attention in class anyway,” he breathes against your mouth before kissing you again. “So why don’t you sit in the back where you don’t distract me.”

“Who says I’m not paying attention.” You open your as your back lands on the couch, looking at him as he looms overhead.

“You’re paying attention to me.”

“It was in my job description when I signed up for the girlfriend position.”

He’s all over you now, hands at your sides, mouth underneath your earlobes as he husks, “Was letting me take you in front of the entire class also a clause? Because if this goes on I might have to take up on that.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he’d been possessed, everything about his behaviour screaming the opposite of the well behaved, restrained man you’ve been accustomed to. The fact that he’s whispering directly into your ears isn’t helping either, a conspicuous shiver dragging across your spine.

It lands with precision, right at your core. You’re too hot to tell, but there isn’t a doubt you’ve begun to pool.

There’s a ding in the background.

He’s suckling underneath your ear, his hands roaming in ways that would smear your reputation altogether.

Another ding.

He’s reached your mouth once again, groping your right breast lightly. Like he’s testing the waters.

Ding.

Mingyu makes a noise of annoyance, the other hand trailing underneath your shirt.

His ringtone blares throughout the room, whoever the caller was having reached wit’s end.

“Gyu…” you whisper.

“Ignore it,” he growls. The ringing has stopped.

He ducks underneath to kiss at your stomach, lifting your shirt oh so slowly. He goes higher, and higher and higher, leaving a trail of kisses at the skin, taking deep breaths as he drags his mouth over your torso.

His phone begins to ring again.

Your head is spinning, your senses overcome. If you weren’t sure before, the air of wetness between your legs is definitely obvious now.

He brings a hand to your centre, pushing inwards at your jean clad core. You exhale sharply yet shakily.

The ringing stops.

Mingyu makes a gumbled sound that you can’t quite make out, too preoccupied with the way your shirt is now up past your bra, at which Mingyu has taken to leaving open mouthed kisses to your cleavage.

There’s a ding.

“Mingyu, I really think—”

His phone begins to ring again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he curses, rearing his head like an interrupted animal, wet mouthed and bleary eyed. He looks at his buzzing phone on the floor in an accusatory glare, like he wants to chuck it out the window and go right back to burrowing into your chest.

“You should answer.”

He looks irritated as he takes his phone in his hands, and you find a flash of Dr. Cho’s name on the screen. “It’s eleven O’clock.”

“It might be important.”

“The last time he did this he asked where his peacock feather pen was,” he grunts as he silences his phone.

You laugh, running a soothing hand through Mingyu’s hair, a tiny attempt to calm him down. Pulling your shirt down, you attempt to sit up.

Mingyu makes a noise of denial, attempting to stick his face into your now clothed chest, knocking you back down, “Nooooo, I’m gonna ignore him.”

“He’s not going to leave you alone,” you sing quietly, running your nails across his scalp lightly, holding his head to your chest. You place your cheek on his head, playing with his ear.

As if to prove your point, Mingyu’s phone begins to ring again, and he groans at the prospect.

“Go on.”

He swipes to answer it. A loud sigh and then a tired, “Hello?”

His volume is bumped up enough for you to make out what’s being said on the other line. “Where have you been?”

“It’s nearly eleven, sir. I was in bed.”

“My flash drive won’t open up on my computer.”

You have to stifle a snort.

“Is it…plugged in?”

“Of course it is, I’m not an idiot.”

“Is it showing up on your files?”

“Disk…is not…formatted.”

“Erm, it might be corrupted.”

“How did that happen?”

“Did you download something off the internet onto it?”

“Hardly matters, I need the attendance sheet on it!”

Your fingers are massaging Mingyu’s temples as you feel him tense on top of you.

“Your attendance sheet is on the teacher’s portal,” Mingyu grits before adding, “sir.”

“...I have other things on there too.”

Mingyu exhales ever so quietly and you tighten your hold on him a smidge. “This sounds like something tech support could help with.”

“Why can’t you help?” he asks sharply.

“I…I don’t know how, sir.”

There’s a noise of indignation from the other end, and you can’t help but keep from laughing.

Mingyu sighs into the phone, this time doing nothing to hide it. “I’ll take it to tech support for you tomorrow. And I’ll send you a direct link for the attendance sheet for Monday and Tuesday’s classes.”

The line beeps shut. Mingyu brings the phone for you both to see the professor’s hung up as soon as the words left Mingyu’s mouth.

“Wow,” you whisper into the silence, the weight of Mingyu’s head heavier on your chest. “Not even a thank you.”

“Absent father behaviour,” Mingyu grumbles as he moves his face to burrow into your shirt.

It’s a bad joke, but you laugh anyway.

“Will I be an asshole if I say I’m not in the mood anymore?” he murmurs.

“Absolutely not. Everything sucked right back in the minute I heard his voice on the line.”

“Gross,” he comments, but he’s laughing too.

“Should we call it a night?” he asks, rearing his head.

Nodding, you rise with him. By the time you’ve reached the bedroom, you’ve already begun taking off your accessories, fiddling with your bracelet as you voice.

“I need a shower.”

Mingyu throws you a towel and a t-shirt, which you catch and move towards the bathroom. Halfway through the door, you sneak a look at him fiddling with his belt.

“Do you wanna come in too?”

Mingyu looks at you peering through the door frame. You’ve never seen anyone leap across the room as quickly as in that moment.

THE FOLLOWING DAYS WERE just as eventful as that phone call, Mingyu running around as the midterm low passed and the line creeped up towards finals season.

Perhaps it was better that you stopped attending office hours, because the room seems to become increasingly packed as the days progressed.

You only ever saw Mingyu in the wee hours of the night at his place, where he begged you to camp out till the end of the semester so he “doesn’t move to insanity”. It might even be better for you, going about your day as usual, without the usual added distraction of a partner.

Coming home to him was easier, where he could clear up your doubts while in ratty pyjamas and starfished across the bed, where you could find solace in Mingyu’s chest without prying eyes when the information became like filling an already stuffed junk drawer.

It was a Friday night, you’re alone at Mingyu’s place sitting cross legged on the floor. The table in front of you is pouring over the final question of this week’s tutorial paper, everything seemingly whizzing right past the top of your head.

Despite that, as Mingyu stumbles inside past eleven, you know you shouldn’t ask him for a thing.

Tired was a look on Mingyu you’d gotten quite used to, so you’ve learned to not comment and simply let him fall into the couch cushions with all his weight.

His face is parallel to yours as he closes his eyes with a light groan in greeting. Moving forward, you kiss the flutter of his eyelids softly, down to the apple of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth.

Your fingers run through his tangled and distressed hair as he mumbles against your mouth. “Did you finish the tutorial paper?”

You huff in mild annoyance, that despite his state he still thinks about work. “Not yet. One last question and I’m done.”

He hums and waits a moment before reopening his eyes. With a loud groan he’s pushing himself off the couch, sliding off of it to sit with you on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“I can figure it out myself, Gyu.”

“You would’ve been done by now if you could,” he answers. It’s annoying that he says it but he’s also right.

Mingyu holds the paper a mere inch from his eyes, the sight almost comical if he also didn’t look an inch from passing out.

He mumbles the question as he reads, “It’s nothing, just worded weird. Toggle this off and move this to mixed factors and you’re done.”

The toggles are done for you, and Mingyu takes the liberty crossing he question off with a pen he finds on the table.

“Did you get everything else?” he asks in earnest.

“Hm? I think so.”

“Good.” And then he’s throwing his head back to rest it on the couch cushions behind him, breathing slowly.

He’s in a navy sweater, collar of his undershirt peeking through the top. Your gaze leads up further, to the exposed area of his throat—clean, tan and naked. You realise this might not be a good time, but it’s only natural your mind cooks up other ways to translate your helplessness as you watch your boyfriend push himself to the brink. Release is never a bad idea.

Besides, it’s a Friday night. No reason to not.

“Gyu,” you shuffle closer.

Lolling his head to look over at you, he answers in a small voice, “Yeah?”

You put on the guiltiest face you can muster, complete with darting eyes and fidgeting fingers. “D’you think…d’you think you can go over post hoc tests again?”

“Post hoc?” He furrowed his eyebrows. You bite the inside of your cheek, having blurted the first plausible model you could think of to ask him. It’s an older bit of the syllabus, something you should already be well versed in.

Not that you care what he thinks right now, he’d figure out why you were asking anyway.

“Post hoc, um,” he rubs a hand over his face as if to jog his memory.

Shifting forward, you plaster you front onto his side. He thinks nothing of it.

“Analysis tool after you’ve already run the data,” he begins.

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you let your nose nuzzle against his cheek. Trailing up, your lips find the shell of his ear.

“Results have to be…they have to be…” He falters when your hand reaches his front, running across the expanse of his clothes stomach, nails digging ever so slightly as you reach his abdomen. You continue to place open mouthed kisses at the space of neck you can reach.

“Hm? Has to be what?”

“Statistically significant,” he breathes when your palms reach the tops of his thighs. “To run a post hoc test.”

His trousers are less barrier inducing than regular jeans, something you’re both grateful for as you begin to palm his clothed bulge. “Results of what, baby?”

“For the love of—”

“Go on,” you whisper in his ear. “Please.”

One flick and his trousers are unbutton, pulling them aside as the zipper pulls open. You're pushing down his boxers when he answers you. “ANOVA.”

“What’s that again?”

“You little shit.”

You move your mouth forward to kiss him.

“Analysis of variance.”

You hum against the column of his throat at that, his half hard member in your hands. Light touches, that’s all they are, running the pads of your fingers across the pulsing length, coaxing him into full length.

“What’s it for though? We already got our results.” Bending forward, you stick your tongue to kitten lick at his tip. Mingyu hisses, hips shifting. Your tongue swirls around the tip, pushing into the skin on the head where he’s most sensitive.

“Ugh, fuck, for um,” he falters as you begin to suck at his head, tongue running over each hollow of your cheeks.

“For…for…” His chest is moving up and down in quick breathes, every sound from his mouth coming from a deep rumble in his stomach.

Letting go of his cock, you continue to pump him with your hand as you gaze up at him from your position. “For? Keep talking, baby.”

“For…To identify groups,” he grunts out. He lets out a louder moan when you place your mouth back on him, going past his tip and taking as much as you can of him into your mouth. “Identify…the differences, shit, hmph.”

He takes a loud breath before speeding through it again, “Identify which groups actually differ, oh my god.”

The bit of him that you can’t fit on your mouth is being pumped by your hands, fingers pushing into him like you were trying to indent them on the base of his cock. A glance upwards and you find his head thrown back, hands coming to tangle in your hair. His thumb caresses the side of your cheek.

“How many groups?” you ask, before diving back in.

“Three,” he chokes out. “Three or more, oh I’m gonna cum, fuck don’t stop, holy shit.”

Both of his hands are at your head, guiding you as you suck him harder, faster, more tongue digging into his slit. You hum against his dick on purpose, making sure it’s coarse enough to get the reaction you want.

You succeed, because immediately after you hear Mingyu rip out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard, his grip on your strands harder than ever. He cums into your mouth, hips stuttering as you place your entire weight on him to keep him in place.

You let some of it dribble out your mouth and back over his softening dick like a hot coating, sucking him through shooting spurts of cum that land on your tongue.

When you emerge from underneath, Mingyu looks like he got the soul sucked out of him; eyes closed, stuttered breaths raking through his entire body, a light sheen of the beginnings of sweat that glisten in the low light of the room.

Reaching for the tissue box and water bottle on the table, you soak the napkins and bring them to clean him up. He whines when the cold tissues touch him where he’s most sensitive right now, you want to kiss him but account for the cum that is actively stuck to the walls of your mouth.

You leave for a few minutes, much to Mingyu’s hoarse protests. He’s almost on all fours, hands on the floors as you promise to be back. By the time you’ve hauled his tired ass into bed, you’re just as ready to knock out as the half asleep man beside you.

Mingyu’s face is plastered into your neck, arms and legs thrown over your form as he hugs you close to him.

“I might love you,” he says into the darkness. A secret, just for you and the walls to hear.

You hide the way your heart absolutely leaps, conceal the way your hands tighten around his form into an affectionate caress, hold your breath to prevent the inevitable hitch.

I might love you too.

You hide that as well. For now.

Smiling into the skin of his temples, you sigh.

“Feel free.”

[Mingyu]: class ended early

[Mingyu]: be there in 5

[You]: ???

[You]: wdym ended early

[You]: kim did u end class early to come home

Your response comes in the form of the front door lock jiggling loudly. You’d stayed the night at his place, knowing you didn’t have anything to do but study by yourself. Sickly as you were, you doubt you could sit through two hours of even more statistics.

He’d left you in bed with a kiss, needing to be extra early since Dr. Cho decided to dump the last crucial few weeks leading up to finals season entirely on his TA. As much as there was on Mingyu’s already overflowing plate now, you couldn’t deny the elated feeling of your attendance being taken care of regardless of whether you show up to class or not.

A very real violation, but no one truly notes one skipped student in the midst of hundreds. Besides, the bag under Mingyu’s pretty eyes might be enough for anyone to have mercy and let the supposed mistake slide.

As Mingyu walks into the room, shoes flying and back dumped on the floor, he finds you still half clothed with leftover sleep in your eyes, standing in the middle of the living space like you were lost.

He drops his things to come and drown you in his arms, loud kisses all over your face as you talk. “You’re getting too comfortable with this job.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t possibly expect me to teach a bunch of half asleep idiots when my woman is all alone at home, sickly and cold without me.”

You grumble wordlessly as you feel him check your temperature with the back of his hand. “How’s the congestion?”

“Bad,” you respond nasally. “I can’t find my Afrin.”

“It’s on the bedside table, baby.”

“No, it’s not.”

Still wrapped in his hold, Mingyu begins to take steps forward that lead towards the bed, pushing you to walk backwards.

“I’m not awake enough to navigate,” you sniff.

“I’ve got you,” he lowtones, pushing backwards slowly.

The back of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back into the unmade sheets. You crawl back under the covers as Mingyu navigates between used tissues, water bottles and pills on the bedside table. But no sign of your nasal spray.

You have to breathe through your mouth and you hate it, but you send a remark his way anyway. “Told you.”

Mingyu bends down and emerges with a familiar red capped bottle. He stares at you while you stare at it, choosing to simply snatch it from his presenting hands and be done with it.

“Good thing I came back early, hm?”

“Shut up.”

He leaps over your form to claim the spot in bed right next to you, still fully clothed as he burrows under the covers next to you.

There’s nothing flattering about the way you stick the nozzle up your nostrils and sniff hard, but the gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes might as well suggest you were trying to get him to look at you like that.

“Are you gonna keep doing this till finals?” you ask throatily, shifting under the covers.

“Teaching during class time is just extended office hours, I’m gonna go insane if I keep going like this. Probably just today. Or…once more if I feel it.”

“Didn’t you say you were gonna extend office hours to Fridays too?”

Mingyu moulded himself against you, giving warmth to your shivering body even under thick blankets.

It seems throughout the course of your relationship, your time with Mingyu is either spent laying down or in the process of doing so. Not that you mind, you’ve found that remaining horizontal was what worked best for someone like Mingyu who seemed to want to fuse with your very being whenever you were together.

“Ugh, not this week. Do not have the patience.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say, eyes closed, already on the highway to dreamland.

“Thank you, I do think I’ve been very brave.” Even while slipping into dreamland, you find the good sense to find his nipple through his sweater and give it a hard pinch. He jerks away in a yelp, clutching his chest.

“What’s that for?!”

You ignore him and simply run your hand over the area you just attacked. “You’ve gotten better at knowing when to slow down. I’m proud of you.”

You’re too far gone to make out what he answers you with, but with the hot breath against your already warm forehead, you decide it's more than enough for you.

MINGYU DOES IT FOR the fourth time, but this time round he’s smart enough to not tell you.

It’s the Friday before finals week officially begins, and you remain in your own place for once to crack down on the last bits of syllabus you want to go over, away from your extremely distracting boyfriend.

There’s a text when you check your phone after a couple hours of hyperfocus, and you narrow your eyes at the notification.

It’s Wonwoo’s (actual) girlfriend, and she’s sent you nothing but a picture of both of your men on Wonwoo’s living room floor, thoroughly occupied with the floored expanse of sheets, pillows and cushions.

It’s a pillow fort.

Your boyfriend is building a pillow fort in his not-husband’s living room mere days before the final exam for the most dreaded course of the semester. All while he’s actively meant to be available for office hours.

You want to laugh. The man that stayed up multiple nights to answer stupid questions in emails, is now less than concerned about the pandemonium that is probably ensuing in the department building. It isn’t that you’re upset, because this was what you wanted from him. To learn to take a break when it was needed. But you would also prefer he’d time them a little better.

Inevitably, you text him, but not before sending an encouraging text to your girlfriend-in-law for putting up with the both of them all by herself.

[You]: where are you

[Mingyu]: where im meant to be?

[You]: office hours?

[Mingyu]: mhm

[You]: are u and ur husband conducting them under a pillow fort in his house

You imagine him sending Wonwoo’s girlfriend a betrayed look. Perhaps even throw a frilled throw pillow in her unassuming direction.

[Mingyu]: DONT KILL ME

You let him suffer in your silence, clicking your phone off and leaving it somewhere you won’t be tempted to look.

Besides, it wasn’t long before there was an incessant banging at your door that you ended up needing to get up to open. He looks so timid, the face of an innocent perpetrator that waltzes into your space.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, following you to your desk like a lost duckling.

“Whatever for?”

“For lying.”

You snort as you sift through tutorial sheets, “Might wanna take that up to the poor hopeless student that thought you were their last hope.”

Mingyu’s head sinks to your shoulder where you sit at your desk. “God.”

“Him too.”

In another few moments, his arms have come around to cage you into your desk where you’re sat, hands placed on the table as he towers over the top of your head, mouth to crown.

“Rumour has it,” he starts.

You make a face. “Now you’ve joined in on gossip? Maybe I have steered you wrong.”

He ignores you valiantly as his mouth drops lower, down to the beginnings of the tips of your ears. You can smell him. He smells good.

“That a textbook recitation is all it takes to get you all bothered down there.”

Lifting your head from its craned position over your papers, you stare straight ahead. Blank and unassuming.

“Take a hike, Kim.”

“...Sorry.”

NO MATTER HOW FAKE annoyed you were at your boyfriend, you cannot possibly credit anyone else for how smooth your finals had gone.

Not a single tear, hack or whine. Your meals were on time, your sleep schedule the healthiest it’s been for months. You even managed a movie night break in the midst of it all. A record for you.

The very first thing you do after walking out of the exam hall, stretching and sighing, you find Mingyu waiting with nervous eyes.

“Well?” he asks, eyes wide and lips pulled into his teeth.

You merely grab for his hand and pull him out of the crowded hall and past a few familiar turns.

“For the record I didn’t want some of the questions on there,” he yaps as he follows behind your stalks. “Hard ones weren’t mine. I promise I’m not a sadist.”

Then, in an un-CCTV’d corner, marked by the broken, empty vending machine, you round up on him. In seconds you’ve pulled him down to meet your lips in an eager, full kiss.

In the moments your lips remain intact, you can feel all the horrid statistical knowledge you’d gathered over the months slip out the cracks and crevices, relieving you.

Mingyu is careful to let you pull away first, eyes sticky to open when you do. There’s a smile on your face. “It went great.”

A strong tug against your waist and you’re suddenly pressed into Mingyu’s all too familiar hold, so everloving tight you can hardly breathe. His lips are smacking and pressing into your skin, all over your face, neck and hands. Anywhere he could possibly reach.

There wasn’t much he could do standing in a huddled corner at nine in the morning on a Tuesday, where anyone could pass by and question what in the high school was going on. But there was more than enough Mingyu could do behind closed doors.

In true Mingyu fashion, he’s begun to grope in every way you love the minute the lock clicks shut of his apartment, every fibre of both of your beings giddy and jumpy, giggles erupting from your tired mouths. You haven’t been touched in ages, always too tired to do anything even when you would find the time.

It isn’t remotely strange that you're wet from only a few kisses and hot breaths against your neck. Although Mingyu’s hands haven’t been modest either, already reaching your clothed cunt as you fall into bed.

He says it was your reward, for doing so good, his illustrious mouth suctioned onto your naked core, moving and grinding in ways you can more than just appreciate.

His tongue is nothing below made for you, like he knows exactly when to flick his tongue, graze his teeth and all but suck the daylights out of you. It’s marvellous, even more so as you realise he won’t stop. One, two, three mind blowing orgasms later, your legs still shake around his head as you cry out for him to stop.

Not that he was going to listen, as he did not the last fifteen times you tried, simply pushing a finger into your abused hole to chuck you into yet another climax. You’re sobbing, trembling, sweating; but also half hearted in your attempts to stop him.

By the time he’s relented, you’re sure you won’t feel a thing down there for at least a week. If Mingyu will even let you go untouched for that long.

But as you’re finally able to catch your long lost breath in bed, and Mingyu has curled up right beside you, like he always does, you let the finality of it all sink in. You were done. And so was he. And you could now begin to experience a Mingyu that wasn’t exhausted, stressed or tired. Even now, the long indented layers of fatigue begin to melt away, revealing a less strained man.

Mingyu was beautiful either way.

“Are you okay?” he asks you, his fingers tracing your features.

The pads of his fingers glide across your eyelids, down the slope of your nose, tracing the outline of your lips. You kiss his fingers as they reach you there, hand coming up to hold his wrists. You kiss the tips of his fingers, down to the palm of his hand. Eyes closed, you keep your lips there.

“More than okay,” you mumble.

“Good. Thought I lost you there.”

Stretching unceremoniously, you drape yourself over his naked form, head on his shoulder. “You’re not losing me. Not after being the sole reason I pass this devil’s module.”

“Is that all it takes? Make sure you don’t fail?”

“And give head like that.” It’s a half joke. “But also be Kim Mingyu comma TA.”

He mimics you between a breathy laugh, “Comma TA. Not anymore, I guess.”

“How happy are you?”

“Still have to grade the last set of papers. But I got what I wanted.”

“The recommendation? You deserve it.”

“That, and not having to be in Dr. Cho’s presence every other day. And you.”

You kiss his shoulder. “Look at you. All grown up with your big boy grad school on the horizon.”

“Not just yet.”

“You’ll get there too. If you can power through this hellsent semester, you can power through anything grad school applications throw.”

Mingyu shifts where he lays, taking a turn to lie on his side to face you. The afternoon sun peeks from behind his form, his outline made of pure gold. His breath is in your face as he talks, and there’s comfort in the air it penetrates.

“I only powered through this because of you. I hope you know that.” He’s smiling.

“Girlfriend duties,” you quote solemnly.

“I mean it. I knew I was walking into disaster with how this stupid job was going, all that work was just a distraction. I didn’t wanna believe this was a bad idea. And then you walked in.”

You cup his face and pout, “Oh, my damsel in distress.”

“Hm, my knight in shining armour,” he giggles. “Galloped in and saved me from myself.”

“You saved me too. From the world and its horrible creations.”

“I’ll start talking in formulas if this keeps up.”

You can only grumble in mild annoyance.

“I’m glad I asked you to come in early that day,” he says.

“I’m glad I was a good samaritan and gathered all your stuff that day.” You grin.

Mingyu leans in and kisses you. It’s soft, slow, and drips of the romance he’s trying to bring into the conversation. His lips are bliss, the feeling of him is bliss.

It’s almost scary how easily you’ve been able to give yourself to him. How quickly he’s placed himself in every nook and cranny of your heart. With his tired eyes and stronger than himself smile, the hand he extended in ways beyond you could ever explain to him. It’s terrifying when you realise what remains on the tip of your tongue, ready and bursting.

But it’s true, and you can only pray it remains that way. Because in that moment, naked and tangled between Mingyu’s limbs, his heart in your ears, your hands on his being, you just know.

“I think I might love you too.”

1K notes · View notes

bittersweet-folder · 2 months

Text

♡ cafuné

(n.) running your fingers through the hair of someone you love.

pairing : kim mingyu × fem! reader [ in an established relationship]

genre: fluff, very domestic fluff. svt. m.list

synopsis: sometimes what Mingyu really needs is good food, cuddle and kisses from you after a long exhausting day at work.

warnings: none (lots of kisses) word count: 1113 words

song rec: O by Code Kunst ft LeeHi // Hold me close by H3F

Taglist : @hongmingoo , @shuabby1994 , @unlikelysublimekryptonite , @asyre , @yumiyumis-blog , @soobunsbun , @nishloves , @aaniag , @sikuthealien , @jespecially , @lizza2001 , @zierose-freak , @thepoopdokyeomtouched , @hoshifighting (yes girly tagged you as well)

(please read the a/n! note in the end loves!)

You take a glance at the clock. 9pm. You were cooking and waiting for Mingyu to return home. It was almost time. The sizzling sound of the vegetables frying in the pan filled the silence in the kitchen. You were making dinner late because you came back home a little late after work as well. And automatically drifted to a deep slumber as soon as your head hit the pillows. You added the rice in the stir fried vegetables. The delicious fragrance filled your senses as you stirred and mixed the rice well and then added the rest of the seasonings. "Gyu would love thiss" You said to yourself,smiling. You loved how Mingyu is a fan of whatever food you made. You loved the smile or sometimes the wide eyed expression he pulled whenever he took the first bite. He really enjoys eating food, especially home made food which is made by his one and only lovely girlfriend.

Time passed by and you stirred the rice thoroughly and then tasted it. It was delectable. That's when you heard the keys clinking followed by the door opening.

"Baby I'm home!" The cheerful Mingyu was nowhere to be found. He sounded really exhausted instead which concerned you.

"Welcome home Gyu! I'm in the kitchen!" you call out from the kitchen, now serving the rice on the two plates,set on the table beforehand. Mingyu appeared in the kitchen.

"It smells soo good in here.. what are you making?" he mumbled as headed his way standing close to you in the kitchen. You made his favorite prawn fried rice. He draped himself on you like a blanket, arms around your waist, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

"Today was really exhausting isn't it?" you asked.

"Yes, so so exhausting, back to back work and an important presentation. But I'm back and I want to sleep so bad" his reply was followed with a yawn.

"But you have to eat, baby. Plus go take a quick shower, you're sweaty. The chicken will heat up in the microwave in the meantime." you said. He groaned like a little five year old kid before saying "Alright alright I'm going but can I get a kiss?"

Without any questions you pressed a soft peck on his lips.

“One more?” he pouted. You let out a chortle. And pressed another kiss on his forehead and on his nose. He grinned and stared at you until out of the blue he attacked you with plenty of kisses all over your face. His sweet affectionate behavior made you laugh and giggle. Once he was done he seemed like a smiley proud golden retriever after pulling back and looking at you and then he left to take a shower.

The beep of the microwave oven reminded you of the chicken you were heating up so you took out two small bowls from the kitchen cabinet and then the chicken to serve it on the bowl. Dinner was served so you thought of scrolling through your phone a bit. Few minutes passed by, Mingyu came out of the shower and joined you for dinner. He was very sleepy now. All the little chit chats went on knowing about how each other's day went while eating dinner. The rain started pouring outside. The pitter patter of the light rain joined the conversation between you and him as pleasant background music. Not too harsh, not too slow. The kind of tranquil environment needed after a tough day.

[..... time skip~♡]

You and Mingyu were now in the bedroom laying on the bed, cuddled up. He was nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck while his arm was around your waist. His warm breath was fanning on the skin of your neck. And above everything both of you were wide awake. Your hand was on his shoulder but then you slid it around his neck slowly running your fingers through his fluffy black hair. He quite literally melted in your touch.

“Gyu?” you whispered.

“Yes darling”

“You aren't sleeping. Aren't you tired baby?” Your soft voice being the only other sound beside the ceiling fan's, in the dimly lit room.

“You know I can ask you the same question right? But I might actually fall asleep if you continued the massage” He smiled softly looking up at you. Your eyes meet his. He looked so adorable and fluffy. Hair all messy, drowsy eyes, slightly flushed cheeks. It gave you the urge to pepper kisses all over his face. Slowly you leaned your face closer to his, your soft lips pressing a delicate kiss on his forehead. Then peppering more kisses on his cheeks and nose. It made him smile automatically. Another kiss right beside his right eye. He was savoring the feeling of feather light kisses until he whispered “what's up baby?”. You stopped for a second to answer “nothing I just wanted to kiss my pretty boyfriend can't i?”.

“You're insufferable but I love you, you know that?” Mingyu had a lopsided smile dancing on his lips. Your face went closer to his, your lips ghosting over his and his eyes shutting slowly expecting to get into the fervent feeling of the tender kiss. But you stay still in that position. His eyes open.

“So… I read this word somewhere ‘cafuné’ which means running you fingers through the hair of your loved one” you muttered, pulling away with a soft smile and continued “felt like this was the perfect opportunity to actually do it while we are still tangled in our bedsheets, on the bed like this''. Mingyu stared at you, blinking at times thinking how did he get such a sweet caring girlfriend. Your fingers picked up the motion they left for a few seconds, grazing and caressing his hair softly.

“You talk just like a book. I don't really know how to explain this at this particular moment but you do and I absolutely love it” Mingyu spoke softly.

“Really? Thank you, love. I think you should close your eyes and finally get some sleep as well” you said.

“Alright my lady good night then?”

You chuckled and then pressed a sweet tender kiss on his lips.

“Yes, good night love. And I love you too”

Sometimes nothing was better than Mingyu's bear hugs. He had such a big chiseled yet soft chest and arms. It was always a treat or a cure to a sad mood to hug him.

Sometimes for Mingyu your soft loving touch and affection is what he needed after an exhausting day or simply because he craved the softness of the affection you had, just for him.

author's note: finally posted something lol. sometimes I just really really wanna baby this man and take care of him and make him his comforting food. I have proofread it once but lemme know if there's something wrong. [Please note: the Wonwoo fic is in progress and i won't be able to finish it any sooner because of the amount of assignments I have presently, I honestly wanna ugly cry atp]. With love, Luna🎀.

686 notes · View notes

mr-cha-n · 1 month

Text

Crossing the Finish Line

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genres: fluff, angst, athletes AU

Warnings: Profanities, drinking, reader is a bit of an asshole, exercise

Word Count: 17.4k

Summary: Winning is the only thing that matters, except if you're raising money for a charity event with an infuriatingly good-looking swimmer.

The burn of your muscles and the sweat on your brow are a satisfying reminder of how far you've come.

Reaching for the water bottle at the base of the wall, you take a well-deserved gulp before turning to your coach, who’s approaching with a towel in hand, clapping proudly.

"If you can recreate that in Tokyo, you won’t have to worry about coming home empty-handed!" Sungjin grins, his pride almost matching your own as you bask in the achievement of a personal best—almost.

"I guess I'll just have to keep at it to make sure of that," You smile gingerly, leaning forward to grab the towel and dab the moisture from your face.

"Well, motivation’s never been your problem," he says, raising an eyebrow as if to protest, but instead, he simply gestures back to the climbing wall, hinting for you to continue.

You know Sungjin thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard, but as you square up to the lead course in front of you, feeling that familiar sense of belonging and purpose the wall brings, you’re certain even he has to admit the hard work is paying off.

With a steadying breath, your hands dip into the chalk bag at your waist. Just a little faster, a little stronger, and you’ll be up there competing with the greats of your sport. The clarity of your purpose washes over you; you know your place in the world, and you’re determined to reach it.

"Done already?"

Iseul's voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you realize you've been staring at the chipped paint on your admittedly worse-for-wear front door.

The shiny black hands on the cockerel-shaped clock at the entrance to your apartment read 9:20 pm. Glancing between the clock, the half-filled pot of chilli simmering on the stove, and your roommate’s teasing look, you realize you’ve missed dinner.

"Honey, I'm home!" you sing-song, spreading your arms wide to envelop Iseul in an apologetic hug. She screeches and runs away, but her laughter lets you know that all is forgiven for your late arrival.

"Sorry for missing dinner, Sullie. I got caught up in that headspace again and completely forgot you were cooking tonight."

"Don’t be sorry, just be grateful I left you some—it should still be warm!" she hums, offering you a reassuring glance.

You feel her eyes on you as you hang your jacket up and begin ladling out the leftover chilli into your favourite bowl.

"What is it?" you ask, tentatively meeting her gaze.

"I just—" she pauses, her expression softening as she searches for the right words. "I’m worried about you. You spend all day at the training gym or the actual gym. I know you’ve got important milestones coming up, and I’ll be there cheering you on from the sidelines, but your whole life can’t revolve around competitions. You’re not going out, seeing friends, meeting new people—"

"I don’t need you setting me up on another blind date if that’s what you’re suggesting," you interject, raising an eyebrow as you take a bite of chilli. "And I have enough friends."

"When was the last time you saw anyone other than me or your coaching team?"

When was the last time you'd seen any of your other friends?

The corner of your mouth twitches in defensive annoyance, trying to come up with a reply that you both know won't be truthful.

"Okay, fine. You might have a point. How about I promise to see people after Tokyo? I’ll even make an appearance at one of your wretched salsa classes."

You’ve attended exactly one of Iseul’s salsa classes and vowed never to repeat the experience. Sixty minutes of humiliation in a class way above the beginner level you were promised, stumbling through the steps only to collide with your rather handsome dance partner and send both of you crashing to the floor. Needless to say, you’ve managed to avoid that class—and that man—ever since.

"You can’t just avoid people for a month, squid!" Iseul protests. "Maybe you could—"

"No," you warn, dread filling you as you anticipate her next suggestion.

"Come on, I think it would be fun! You could-"

"I don't want to!"

"And what if you didn't have a choice?"

That stops you in your tracks. Blinking slowly, you set down your fork and look blankly at your best friend.

"What ... does that mean?" You ask cautiously.

Iseul grimaces, swallowing hard before replying.

"Okay, don’t be mad." That’s never a good sign. "I might have sent the campaign info to Sungjin."

Your brain feels like it’s been doused in ice water as you process what she’s done.

"You mean to say, I decided three months ago that I definitely didn’t want to do the campaign, and you, despite this, still sent the info to my head coach, who will undoubtedly force me to do it for 'good publicity' and 'sponsorship opportunities'?" you scowl, shooting her your best attempt at a withering look.

"That may, perhaps, be correct." She confesses, giving you a look you’d only reserve for your mother after sneaking out without permission.

A long, loud sigh drags its way out of your body.

"Iseul ... really?"

"...yeah, really."

"God, I don't even remember what the campaign was about!" You complain, pushing the half-eaten bowl of chilli aside, your appetite gone with this new revelation.

"Oh! Here, I have the email up!" Iseul beams, clearly feeling far more helpful than you currently think she deserves to feel.

"Of course you do." You glare, moving to look at the computer screen beside her.

Dear Miss (Y/l/n),

As the excitement builds for the upcoming Olympic competition in Tokyo, we are organizing a special event that combines the spirit of athleticism with the power of giving back to the community.

We are thrilled to invite you to participate in our Road to the Rings relay event, scheduled to take place in the week commencing 5 July. This unique relay will bring together athletes like yourself to not only celebrate the Olympic spirit but also to raise awareness and funds for the KSPO.

As a respected athlete, your involvement would greatly enhance the impact of this event. Not only will this be an opportunity to showcase your support for a meaningful cause, but it will also allow you to connect with fellow athletes and fans in a memorable and inspiring way.

Your participation would include:

Joining a team of athletes in a two-day relay through Tokyo city

Promoting the event on your social media platforms

Engaging with fans during the event to share the importance of the cause we are supporting.

With your help, we can make this an unforgettable experience and a powerful force for good. We would be honoured to have you as part of this initiative.

Please let us know if you are available to join us by replying to this email or contacting Soma Kimiko at [email protected] by 31 May.

Thank you for considering this opportunity to make a difference through sport.

Warm regards,

Hu Chunho

International Olympic Committee

"Thank god, the deadline for this passed ages ago." You sigh, relief washing over you.

The guilty look that remains stamped on Iseul's face does not inspire confidence in you.

"Well, about that—don’t quote me on this, but I think Sungjin might have contacted them, and they may have agreed to let you join anyway?"

"Shit." You swear, wracking your brain for a way out and coming up empty. "Let me call Sungjin; maybe I can convince him to change his mind."

Surrounded by athletes you’ve never met but who all clearly know each other, you scan the crowd for the one face that could save you from your awkward solitude. Soon enough, you manage to catch a glimpse of your teammate, Jeon Wonwoo, across the sea of people. As you begin to wade through the crowd toward him, you realize he’s not alone like you’d hoped but is at the centre of a large group of athletes, all laughing and taking photos outside the Olympic Village entrance.

You've all been allowed early access for the event, a privilege everyone else seems stoaked about, but has left you out of your depth and far from where you want to be.

Deciding that you can morph your embarrassment into a cool, solo mystique rather than face meeting all of Wonwoo’s friends, you pull out your headphones and start wandering around the entrance, feigning busyness.

Keeping one eye on the other athletes, and the other half-heartedly on the information board in front of you, you quickly realise that no one else cares about what you're doing and feel yourself relaxing into the music.

All this waiting has made you hungry, and you wonder if there will be food available in the village or if you’ll have to brave your rudimentary Japanese to find your own sustenance. Surely they'll give you access to the village resources - you'll need to use the gym and the climbing equipment at least -

A sharp tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts.

Swivelling around, you’re met face-to-face with a tall, muscular man whose lips are moving, but you can’t hear a word. Gaping at him in confusion, you’re about to tell him he’s not saying anything when he gestures to his ear, miming pulling something out of it—oh, right, your earphones.

You scramble to pull your left earbud from your ear.

"Sorry, I was just saying that they're letting us into the village now."

"Oh, uh thank you! And I thought the language barrier would be my biggest comprehension issue!" You exclaim with a smile too wide and a laugh too loud. The cringe instantly seems into your body as the man cocks one eyebrow at you, and it takes all of your will not to shrivel up under his gaze.

You force yourself to keep smiling, even as the heat of embarrassment creeps up your neck. Clearing your throat, you quickly try to recover. "I guess I'm just a little nervous," you admit with a small, sheepish grin, hoping to smooth over the awkwardness. "I've been waiting to be here for a long time, and now that I'm actually here, I'm not sure what to expect."

The man’s eyebrow slowly lowers, and you catch a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He nods slightly, the tension easing just a bit. "It's natural to feel that way," he says, his tone softening. "The games can be... overwhelming at first."

Relieved that the moment has passed, you take a deep breath and offer a more genuine smile. "Thanks for letting me know, we should probably head off before they leave us behind."

"I'm not too worried about that," He lets out a little laugh. As you both start to walk, you finally take in the small crowd that has gathered outside the gates. Though you can’t make out what they’re shouting, the team flags and posters bearing the man’s face clue you in on the nature of the turnout.

Pressing your lips together, you nod your head in mock understanding. "I see, can't keep the fanclub waiting?"

His head snaps away from the crowd to meet your eyes, and for a split second, you worry you’ve said the wrong thing. But then you catch the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"They're more persistent than I expected," he says, his tone light but tinged with weariness. "But I suppose it comes with the territory."

Relieved that he didn't take offence, you relax slightly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Must be exhausting, though," you offer, your voice softer now. "All that attention."

He gives a small shrug, glancing back at the crowd with a resigned expression. "You get used to it," he says, but there's a hint of something in his voice. "But we should really get moving. Don't want to keep anyone waiting—fans or otherwise."

You nod, falling into step beside him as you both head towards the entryway. The buzz of the crowd fades into the background as you walk, the earlier awkwardness slowly dissolving into a comfortable silence.

Once inside the village, the man turns to you again, a curious look on his face. "So, first Olympics?"

You nod, a bit of excitement creeping back into your voice. "Yeah, it’s been a dream for as long as I can remember."

"Well, you’ve got a lot to look forward to," he says, offering a small smile. "It’s an experience like no other."

You smile back, feeling a bit of your nervousness melt away. "I’m sure it will be."

Weary from the day but still buzzing with anticipation, you finally make it to your assigned room. The sight of the cardboard bed brings a huff of amusement. You flop down onto it, savouring the comfort even if it’s temporary. You have the room to yourself for now, but it’s clear that another athlete will be joining you once the games officially begin. For the moment, though, you relish the peace and quiet.

You managed to grab some sashimi from a nearby restaurant earlier on, and with your hunger sated, you start to settle in, considering whether to crack open a book or simply drift off into an early night’s sleep.

A pounding knock on your door quickly dashes those plans.

"Hey! (Y/n)?" A familiarly deep voice calls out, and you drag yourself up to let your teammate into your room.

"Wonwoo, what a nice surprise." you greet him with a forced grin, his chuckle telling you he’s not fooled.

"Don’t tell me you were planning to spend your first night in Tokyo cooped up in here?" he teases, and you respond by chucking a pillow at him.

"Do you not get exhausted from travelling like a normal person?"

"The plane journey was like three hours, tops." He retorts, falling onto your absentee roommate's bed.

"You have a point." You concede. "And yet, a nice warm bath and a book call to me."

"God, you're so dull!"

"What are you on about? You read more than anyone I know!"

"Yes, but I'm not reading now, am I? That should tell you something..."

You hate that his logic is making sense to you. Giving him a long, squinty-eyed stare, you eventually give in.

"So, what’s the plan? Not that I’m going, I’m just curious."

Perking up, Wonwoo lifts himself off the bed with a speed you usually only see on the climbing wall. The sly grin that spreads across his face makes you instantly wary.

"A few friends are gathering in one of the common rooms for some drinks and mingling. People might split off later to go clubbing or karaoke or something, but you could just come to the party part if you’re interested. It’s just down the corridor—you wouldn’t be able to sleep with the noise anyway."

You mull it over, remembering the promise you made to Iseul before you left.

"Fine, maybe I’ll make an appearance." The satisfied grin on Wonwoo’s face forces you to hold back an eye roll. Your expression softens, hesitating to confide your apprehensions. "Just… don’t ditch me, okay? I don’t really know anyone else here."

Wonwoo’s playful demeanour shifts to one of gentle understanding as he nods in agreement.

"It’ll be a good chance to meet some new people—they’re really nice." He notices your screwed-up look of unease. "And I’ll introduce you. Don’t worry, the room is like 300 square feet; you’re not gonna lose track of me."

"Alright, fine. Now get out—I have to get changed!" You playfully whack his arm with your remaining pillow, and his laughter echoes in your room as he leaves, making the decision feel a little less daunting.

Rummaging through the unemptied suitcase on your bedroom floor, you thank Iseul for the scrunched-up red dress at the bottom of the case. Throwing it on with your probably unnecessary black leather jacket and some knee-high black boots, you feel like you at least look like you belong at a party.

Lining your lips with a rouge that matches the dress, and blasting some hyper pop to get you pumped up, you take a deep breath, realizing that, despite your nerves, this could be a chance to really settle in, to find your place not just in the competition, but among the people who, like you, have worked so hard to be here.

The bass of the music drums into the back of your skull as you fix yourself a drink in the small common room kitchen. You'd beelined straight to the drinks, grateful to give yourself something to do and to get some liquid courage before you face up to the other athletes.

Taking a sip from your cup, you scan the room for the face of your friend. As promised, you make eye contact with Wonwoo on the other side of the room, who flags you over to come talk to his friends. Revving yourself up for socialising, you make sure to keep an easy smile plastered to your face as you head over to join him.

"Hey, guys, this is my fellow climber, (Y/n). This is (Y/n)'s first Olympics, so ease her in gently!"

A flurry of names and greetings follow, and you take in none of them.

"Between the nerves and the secretive partying, I feel like it's the first day of high school again." You joke, trying to break the ice.

"Ha, if only I was cool enough to be invited to parties my first year of high school!" A lanky man with frosted tips replies, chuckling into his drink.

"I feel like that explains a lot about you, Chunghee." A pretty woman with a knowing smile laughs. Looking towards you, she leans forward, half-whispering, half-speaking. "He's been making up for it ever since," She teases, earning a playful shove from Chungee, who rolls his eyes but grins nonetheless.

You laugh along with them, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease as the group’s friendly energy begins to draw you in. The music still pounds in the background, but it seems less overwhelming now.

Wonwoo nudges you lightly, a reassuring smile on his face. "You settling in okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," you nod, glancing around at the group. "It's just a bit surreal, you know? One minute, I'm in my usual training routine, and now I’m here, surrounded by all these amazing athletes. It’s a lot to take in."

"Tell me about it," the woman who teased Chunghee chimes in. "I still remember my first Olympics—it felt like stepping into another world. But don’t worry, by the time the opening ceremony rolls around, you’ll feel right at home."

"Thanks," you say, genuinely touched by the support. "I’m excited—nervous, but excited."

"Excited is good," Wonwoo says, clinking his drink against yours. "And hey, you've always got tonight to get embarrassingly wasted and earn your spot in the Olympic Village Hall of Fame!"

"Speaking of, I got in late for my first Olympics, so my first night ended up being the night of the opening ceremony. I got nervous sick in my room beforehand and used the twenty minutes I had to get absolutely hammered. Next thing I know, I'm tripping over my own feet holding the Olympic torch and trying not to set everything on fire. To this day, the other athletes still call me 'Torch Tango' after I somehow managed to spin around and do a full pirouette, nearly taking out the torchbearer behind me," A jovial woman standing to the right of Wonwoo chimes to a chorus of laughter.

You find yourself laughing along with them, the image of her drunkenly dancing with the Olympic torch so absurd that you can't help but be amused. "That sounds both terrifying and hilarious," you say, shaking your head. "I can’t imagine how you pulled that off."

"Trust me, it wasn’t on purpose!" she replies, still giggling. "But it broke the ice for me. I figured if I could survive that level of embarrassment in front of the entire world, I could handle anything the games threw at me."

"You know, that’s actually kind of inspiring," Wonwoo chimes in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe (Y/n) here should start off with a bang like that, get all the nerves out of the way early."

You shoot him a mock glare, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Let’s not tempt fate, okay? I’d rather not be remembered as 'the one who set the Olympic Village on fire.'"

The group chuckles, and Chunghee raises his glass in a mock toast. "To avoiding accidental arson and to surviving our first Olympics without becoming memes!"

"Cheers to that," you agree, clinking your drink against his. The mood in the room is light and warm, and the camaraderie in the group is palpable. You feel yourself relaxing even more as the conversation flows naturally from one topic to the next. Stories of past competitions, travel mishaps, and favourite training rituals are shared, and before long, you find yourself laughing along, no longer worried about making a good impression.

You catch Wonwoo’s eye across the group, and he gives you a small nod, as if to say, "See? I told you it’d be fine." And as you take another sip of your drink, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

Moving back to grab a second round of drinks, you overhear the conversation loudly playing out on the other side of the room.

"-definitely Haneul, she's an Olympic medalist in shooting. I'm not gonna get mauled by a tiger if she's protecting me!" A passionate voice calls out to a chorus of laughter.

You peer around to see a group of about eight to ten people occupying the common room sofas and floor in one big circle. Amongst the group, you spot the man from earlier, leaning back in his position on the couch with an easy laugh and a cup in one hand.

"No offence, Haneul, but if I'm trying to survive a deserted island, I think I'd have bigger priorities than shooting wild animals with a non-existent gun." Another man replies. "I know who I'd want."

"Oh yeah, who?" The original voice calls back, belonging to a confident-looking woman dressed in all black.

"Kim Mingyu, obviously. A world-renowned swimmer, self-made handyman, and absolute gym lad. Not only could he cook me meals, but he'd cuddle me around the fire to keep me warm. And if that didn't work, then his hoards of lovers would track him down and rescue us!"

Kim Mingyu... you recognise that name. The group are now all laughing and nodding at the man on the floor, and you quickly put together the pieces. The fan club, the name, and the admittedly handsome face - the man you'd spoken to earlier was the infamous breaststroke swimmer. You'd seen countless articles in the newspaper about his latest fling, being caught at a rowdy party, and, of course, the record-breaking swims. You hadn't made the connection at first - he'd been so down-to-earth during your brief conversation that it was hard to reconcile that with the image of the notorious athlete plastered across the tabloids.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing there, hovering on the edge of the group with your fresh drink in hand, when suddenly Mingyu catches your eye. His laughter subsides as he notices you, and without missing a beat, he flashes you a toothy grin.

"What about you, Mingyu? Who would you bring? You can't pick yourself!"

"You guys have got it all wrong - I'm not the best pick." He starts, putting his cup down in mock seriousness. "I'd bring someone who could gather food, get resources, and save me if I fell off a cliff. The obvious choice is (Y/n)," You feel your heartbeat skyrocket as your name leaves his mouth and the group of debaters swivel round to look at you. "She's literally a world champion in climbing. She could climb a tree for food, wood, or leaves to craft things, and she's the only person here I'd trust to be able to pull me up if I was swinging from her grip off of the edge of a cliff."

You didn't know that he knew who you were. Your heart patters at the realisation, and you feel a blush begin to creep up the side of your neck.

"Oh, I'd be a bad choice," You respond shakily. Mingyu gives you an inquisitive look to carry on.

"I'm deathly allergic to nuts, if the island had any I'd have to choose between insta-death or starvation - not a very good ally if I'm dead."

His gaze lingers, a playful curiosity flickering in his eyes, and it takes all your willpower not to squirm under the attention. You force a laugh, trying to shake off the growing tension. "So, I guess we’ll have to make sure there’s a nut-free island for me to survive on," you quip, attempting to keep the mood light.

Mingyu grins, leaning back against the couch with a nonchalant shrug. "Don’t worry, I’d make sure of it. Can't have my survival expert checking out early."

The group laughs, and the conversation shifts back to the hypothetical island debate.

"I'm sure you've had your ear chatted off about the games, but have you got any interesting plans for afterwards?" The woman in the black outfit, who happens to be sitting closest to you, calls out.

Double-checking that she is speaking to you first, you perch down next to her.

"Nothing too serious - an unavoidable salsa class and more training probably. There was one sponsorship deal my team got sent with Samsung, but I don't think I'm gonna do it,"

"You're seriously considering turning it down?" Mingyu asks, and you hadn't even realised that he'd been listening to your conversation. "That's a huge opportunity."

"Sure, but I didn't come here for sponsorships. I just want to compete, to push myself. The whole media circus that comes with it ... I don't want it."

You can feel the weight of his disbelief on you.

Mingu leans forward, his expression more serious than you've seen before.

"You do realise that sponsorships are part of the game, right? They're what keep you here, you can't just ignore that."

You feel a flicker of frustration at his words. "I get that, but it's not why I'm here. Not everyone's looking for the celebrity lifestyle; sometimes it's okay to not have your whole life plastered over the daily newspaper."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The icy look in his eyes is entirely different to the friendly aura you'd experienced earlier.

You hadn't meant for it to come out that way, but the words had slipped out before you could stop them. The tension in the room thickens instantly, and you feel a knot of regret tighten in your chest.

"It means - it doesn't mean anything. That's just not my priority," You reply, trying to appear calm despite the hard edge to your voice.

"Not everything in life is about winning a race, you know that right?" He retorts, and you feel yourself scoff.

How could he think that?

That's why you were all here, what brought you together - a mutual dedication to being the best. To deny it was naive.

"-hey, man, we're heading out now, you coming?" The deserted island man leans over Mingyu's shoulder, pulling his arm towards the crowd gathering at the exit of the common room. Mingyu gives you one last look, before nodding at his friend.

"Yeah, coming."

"Thank you everyone for being here! My name is Hu Chunho, and I am the coordinator of this event!"

You wince as the sound of the loudspeaker makes your head pang. You'd managed to get in a quick training session early this morning, and had not been surprised to see a host of other athletes in the gym already.

"As you all know, we're here to help raise money and awareness before the Olympic Games start. We've set up a fun two days for you guys - and hopefully a fun experience for all those following along at home. Throughout the city, we've set up checkpoints. Taking it in turns, you will be asked to travel to each consecutive checkpoint and complete a task with your teammate when you get there. The winning team will be crowned based on a mixture of factors, including points for each task, the most money raised, and the best viral moment! Remember, getting people engaged and donating is the aim of the game! Now, a list of the teams has been posted on the door over there - please get ready, fill up your bottles, and connect with your teammate and we will begin in 30."

You are faced with the true task of your trip, and the reason why you wanted to avoid it in the first place. Your brain skips in circles as you try to work out how to balance your dislike for social media with your need to win. The challenge ahead feels like it’s pulling you in two different directions—on one hand, the competitive spirit that has driven you this far pushes you to give your all, to win this event just like any other. On the other hand, the idea of chasing “viral moments” and being under the scrutiny of social media makes your stomach turn. You’re here to climb, to compete, not to entertain the masses with antics designed to go viral.

But there’s no backing out now. You’ve committed to this, and like it or not, it’s part of the game.

With a sigh, you weave through the crowd to where the team list is posted, each step a reminder of the tightrope you’re about to walk. As you scan the list for your name, your heart skips a beat when you find it—right next to Kim Mingyu’s.

Of course. You should’ve seen that coming. It’s like the universe has a sense of humour. Mingyu, the guy who’s practically a social media darling, always in the spotlight, the one who you'd argued with about embracing this side of sport last night. You can already imagine the smug grin on his face when he finds out.

You glance around, searching for him in the growing crowd of athletes, and spot him near the front, chatting animatedly with a group of other competitors. As if sensing your gaze, he turns, his eyes locking onto yours across the room. He flashes that familiar, easygoing smile and you wonder if that's meant for you or for the series of onlookers around.

Your pulse quickens as Mingyu’s gaze lingers on you. For a moment, you consider slipping away, avoiding the inevitable confrontation. But that would be cowardly, and if there’s one thing you’ve prided yourself on throughout your career, it’s facing challenges head-on. So, you straighten your shoulders and start making your way toward him.

As you approach, the group he’s with gradually shifts their focus to you, and the hum of their conversation quiets. Mingyu’s smile broadens, clearly amused by your reluctant approach.

“Looks like we’re teammates,” he says casually, as if the tension from last night’s conversation had never happened.

You manage a nod, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling up inside you. “Yeah, seems like it.”

One of the other athletes, a sprinter you vaguely recognize, perks up. “You guys make a good team—power and endurance. Should be interesting to see how you handle the challenges.”

“Thanks,” you reply, keeping your tone polite. You turn back to Mingyu, who’s watching you with that same inscrutable expression. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Mingyu echoes, tilting his head slightly. “I thought we were just winging it.”

His nonchalance grates on you. Of course, he’d suggest going with the flow. That’s probably how he handles everything—charming his way through life with a smile and a shrug. But you’re not wired that way. You need a strategy, a clear path to victory.

“I don’t know about you,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “but I’d like to win this thing. So, maybe we should come up with a plan.”

Mingyu studies you for a moment, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Alright,” he says finally. “What do you have in mind?”

You hadn’t expected him to concede so easily, and it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts. “Well, we know that completing the tasks is important, but so is raising money and creating those ‘viral moments.’ I think we should focus on playing to our strengths—use your popularity to get the attention and donations, and I’ll focus on the physical challenges.”

Mingyu nods slowly. “Makes sense. But we should also make sure we’re having fun with it. If we’re too focused on winning, people will notice, and it might turn them off from supporting us.”

You bite back the urge to argue, realizing that he has a point. This event isn’t just about competition; it’s about engaging with the audience, making them want to be part of your journey. And as much as you hate to admit it, Mingyu’s easygoing nature might actually help with that.

“Fine,” you agree, “but we still need to stay on top of the challenges. No slacking off.”

Mingyu grins again, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “Deal. Let’s show them what we’ve got.”

The tension between you eases slightly as you both start discussing potential strategies, and by the time Hu Chunho’s voice crackles over the loudspeaker again, you feel a bit more prepared for what’s ahead.

“Alright, athletes, it’s time to head to your first checkpoint! Good luck, and remember—have fun!”

You'd agreed that Mingu would take on the first challenge so that he could introduce your tasks to the audience, and god you are glad that he did. As you'd hopped into the car to get a lift over to Meiji Jingu, the shrine that was to be the first checkpoint, you saw Mingyu being handed a traditional bow and quiver full of arrows. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as the realization dawned on you: the first challenge was archery, something you had no experience with and Mingyu, as far as you knew, wasn’t exactly an expert in either. But, you had to admit, he looked the part—focused and serious, with the bow in his hands, and that ever-present confidence on his face.

As you lean back in the car, you are relieved that Mingyu is the one in the spotlight. You know how to navigate the climbing wall, how to plan your routes and push your body to its limits, but this? This is something entirely different.

On your journey, you watch the live stream coming from Mingyu's phone as he runs through the park to get to the shrine. He's happily chatting away to the audience with a level of casualness you've never experienced in the rare times you've been forced into the public spotlight. Watching him jogging along, bow and quiver in hand, hair tousled in the morning breeze, you wonder if he might go viral just for this image alone.

When you arrive at Meiji Jingu, the historic shrine surrounded by ancient trees, the atmosphere is electric. The shrine grounds are bustling with people—locals and tourists alike, all eager to see the Olympic athletes tackle this unique challenge. Cameras are everywhere, capturing every moment for the live stream, and you can acutely feel the eyes of thousands, maybe millions, watching from around the world.

After a short wait for the running athletes to arrive, you spot Mingyu and the other contestants entering the competition zone. At this moment, you can't help but admire the serene beauty of the shrine. The towering Torii gate, the carefully manicured gardens, and the ancient architecture give the place a sense of calm—at odds with the tension brewing in your stomach.

You spot Mingyu a little way off, adjusting his grip on the bow, chatting casually with one of the event organizers. Even from a distance, you can see the ease in his posture, the way he seems to be soaking in the energy of the crowd rather than shying away from it. As much as you hate to admit it, Mingyu seems in his element here.

"Hey, ready to show off those archery skills?" you call out, approaching him to take over the live stream duties for the team whilst he shoots.

He turns to you, flashing that trademark smile into the camera. "Ready as I'll ever be. How hard can it be, right?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "I’m glad it’s you and not me up there. I don’t think I’d even hit the target."

"Well, let's hope I do, or we’re both going to be in trouble," Mingyu jokes, but there is a seriousness in his eyes that tells you he is more focused than he lets on.

An organizer approaches, signalling that it is time to begin. The challenge is simple: hit the target as close to the centre as possible. The closer the shot, the more money raised for charity, and the more points your team would earn.

Mingyu takes his position, and you can feel the collective anticipation of the crowd as they quiet down, all eyes on him. The camera drones hover above, ready to capture every moment.

The camera in your own hand is shaking slightly. You steady your hand and your nerves as you narrate what you are seeing to the phone.

He draws the bowstring back, his movements surprisingly smooth for someone who, as far as you knew, has never held a bow before. You hold your breath, the tension in the air palpable as Mingyu focuses on the target.

Then, with a steady exhale, he releases the arrow. It soars through the air, and you watch, heart pounding, as it flies towards the target.

It isn’t a bullseye, but it is close—closer than you’d expected. The crowd erupt in cheers and applause, and you can’t help but join in, a grin spreading across your face. Mingyu turns to you, raising his arms in a mock victory pose, and you laugh, shaking your head at his theatrics and making sure to get the moment on camera.

“Not bad, Kim. Not bad at all,” you call out, genuinely impressed.

He jogs over to you, still holding the bow, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Told you we’d figure this out. Now it’s your turn to show me what you’ve got.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Let’s just hope the next challenge is something that doesn’t involve me embarrassing myself in front of the entire world.”

As the car pulls away from Meiji Jingu, you glance at Mingyu, who is scrolling through the latest updates on his phone, probably checking the social media response to his archery skills.

The city of Tokyo rushes by outside the window, vibrant and alive, and you feel a renewed sense of determination. This isn’t just a challenge—it is an opportunity. To prove yourself, not just as an athlete, but as someone who could rise to the occasion, no matter what it demanded.

“Looks like people are pretty impressed with your archery skills,” you remark, breaking the silence between you.

Mingyu glances up, his smile widening. “Yeah, not bad for a first try, huh? They’re calling it beginner’s luck, but I’ll take it.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Hey, whatever works. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he teases, flashing a playful grin. “So, any guesses on what the next challenge might be?”

You shrug, glancing out the window as the car slows down, weaving through a narrower street lined with small shops and eateries. “No idea. But I’m hoping it’s something more in my wheelhouse.”

The car eventually comes to a stop in front of a small, unassuming building. The sign above the entrance reads 'Nihonbashi Hamacho' in elegant calligraphy, and as you step out of the car, you notice the rich aroma of fresh food wafting through the air. A group of event organizers are already waiting, along with a few locals who have gathered, curious about what is happening.

Mingyu looks around, taking in the scene. “Smells good. Maybe the next challenge involves food?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the possibility. “Wouldn’t mind that at all. But how would that tie into a charity event?”

As if on cue, one of the organizers approaches, holding up a small card with instructions. “Welcome to the second checkpoint, Nihonbashi Hamacho,” she begins with a smile. “Your task here is to make traditional Japanese soba noodles. You will then serve them to local residents, who will donate based on how well they think you did. The team with the highest donations at this checkpoint will earn the most points.”

You exchange a glance with Mingyu, a mixture of surprise and amusement on both your faces. Cooking wasn’t exactly what you’d expected, but it is certainly a unique challenge.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Mingyu says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Think you can pull it off?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. “But I’m sure it’ll be entertaining to watch me try.”

The organizers lead you into the building, which turns out to be a small, cozy kitchen set up specifically for the challenge. Everything is neatly arranged—flour, water, rolling pins, and a large wooden cutting board. A local chef stands by, ready to give instructions and oversee your efforts.

Mingyu immediately steps up to the station, eyeing the ingredients with a curious expression. “Alright, let’s see if you can make some magic happen.”

You join him, rolling up your sleeves as the chef begins to explain the process. It sounds simple enough—mix the dough, roll it out, cut it into thin, even strips—but as you get started, it becomes clear that it is much harder than it looks. The dough is tricky to work with, and your first few attempts at rolling it out are uneven and lumpy.

To your side, Mingyu is playing up your cooking for the audience of local spectators and online viewers, and you find yourself slowly joining in with his antics.

His positive attitude is annoyingly infectious, and soon you find yourself relaxing into the task, focusing more on enjoying the experience rather than worrying about perfection. The chef occasionally offers tips, guiding you with a patient smile, and gradually, your noodles start to look more like actual soba.

After what feels like an eternity of rolling, cutting, and re-rolling, you finally have a decent batch of noodles ready. The chef gives a nod of approval, and the organizers quickly set up a small serving station outside, where the locals are already gathering, eager to try the soba made by Olympic athletes.

Mingyu and you take turns serving the noodles, chatting with the locals and trying to convince them that your cooking is worth a generous donation. The atmosphere is light and playful, with plenty of jokes and laughter, and to your surprise, people seem genuinely impressed with your efforts.

“Hey, not bad,” one of the locals says after taking a bite. “I’d donate just for the entertainment, but the noodles are actually pretty good!”

Mingyu grins, giving you a playful nudge. “See? We might have a future as soba chefs if this whole sports thing doesn’t work out.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile. The challenge has been a lot more enjoyable than you’d expected, and for the first time, you feel like you are really getting into the spirit of the event—engaging with people, raising money for a good cause, and, most importantly, having fun.

As the last bowl is served and the donations tallied, you and Mingyu stand back, watching the locals disperse with a sense of accomplishment. The organizers hand over the final donation amount, and you can’t help but feel a surge of pride at the total.

The other teams slowly gather their own tallies, but this time you are less concerned with your place in the rankings, and more with chatting to the remnant locals left in the area.

The car hums quietly as it moves through the busy streets of Tokyo. After the high of the soba noodle challenge, you find yourself falling into a contemplative silence. Mingyu, sitting beside you, is flipping through the comments and reactions on his phone, his earlier enthusiasm noticeably dimmed.

You glance over at him, sensing the shift in his mood. “Everything okay?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

Mingyu doesn’t look up, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Yeah, just…reading over the comments. Some of them are pretty harsh."

"Honestly, if it were up to me I'd just turn off the phone and focus on the tasks at hand." You grumble off-handedly, looking out at the Toyko skyline from the car.

"It's not really that simple if the whole point of being here is about raising awareness." He replies.

"Yeah but there's no point trying to pander to every person's perceptions of us. You're overthinking it."

As the car slows down at a red light, you spot a small street market tucked away in a side alley, illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns. The stalls are bustling with activity, vendors calling out to passersby, and the vibrant colours of fresh produce and handmade goods catch your eye.

"Hey, put the phone down and look at that!" You exclaim, nudging Mingyu and pointing out the window.

Mingyu looks up from his phone, following your gaze to the lively scene outside. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he takes in the sight. "That looks pretty cool," He admits, his tone lighter than it was just minutes ago.

"Let's take a pit stop and check it out - we can just say we got caught in traffic on the way," You suggest, excited by the atmosphere of the market. "It'll be a nice break."

Mingyu hesitates for a moment, but then nods, tucking his phone away into his pocket.

"Yeah, why not? Let's go."

You signal for the driver to pull over, promising to buy him a tasty snack to make up for the detour.

You step out into the cool evening air. The sound of the city is all around you, but the market feels like a little oasis of calm away from the noise of the competition and the city.

As you walk through the market, the sights, sounds, and smells envelop you. You can hear the sizzling of street food being cooked, the chatter of people bargaining with vendors, and the distant strumming of a guitar from a musician performing near the entrance. The aroma of grilled skewers and freshly baked bread makes your mouth water, and you realize how hungry you still are despite the soba noodles earlier.

Mingyu seems to relax as you both wander from stall to stall, occasionally stopping to admire the crafts or taste a sample offered by a vendor. You notice the tension ease from his shoulders, and the earlier clouds of doubt that hung over him seem to disappear.

At one stall, you find a small display of handcrafted jewellery. Delicate silver chains and intricately designed rings catch the light, and Mingyu picks up a simple bracelet, turning it over in his hands.

“This is nice,” he says, more to himself than to you. “My sister would love something like this.”

“You should get it for her,” you encourage, smiling softly up at him.

He nods, slipping the bracelet back into its place before handing over some cash to the vendor.

The sentimental thought behind the purchase, and Mingyu's affectionate and friendly atmosphere this whole trip seem entirely at odds with the image of the rakish, irresponsible party boy crafted of him in the headlines.

At the far end of the market, you come across a small food stall selling taiyaki. You order one each, Mingyu opting for custard while you go for red bean, and an extra one for your driver.

As you bite into the warm pastry, the sweetness spreads through your mouth, and you let out a contented sigh. Mingyu chuckles at your reaction, his earlier mood now completely gone.

“This was a good idea,” he admits, taking a bite of his own taiyaki. “I needed this.”

“Sometimes, it’s good to just disconnect and enjoy the moment,” you reply, leaning against a nearby railing as you savour the treat.

He looks at you with an expression you can't really distinguish but makes your stomach flip.

"I get why you and Wonwoo are friends - you're pretty similar." He finally says, and you find yourself looking up at him, intrigued to know what makes him say that.

"I mean, you might somehow be even more averse to human contact than him, but you both have a grounded connection to reality that I lack sometimes. I admire it."

Such a simple statement - a judgement of you that anyone could have made - has you feeling a little light-headed. It's just a moment of tender insight, perhaps blown out of proportion due to your lack of going out over the last few months, but you can't help but feel bashfully shy at his admiration.

And yet, in the back of your mind, a small doubt nags at you, wondering if this was his move - to shower someone with attention and make them feel seen just to leave after it gets boring again.

"Ha, ah, thanks." You say, unable to keep the awkwardness from your voice. "That's ironic - because grounded, you know, climbing and all ..."

He lets out a puff of laughter, but it feels strained and you're choking on the dead air between you.

"Right, let's get back - they'll probably start worrying soon!" You declare, jaggedly cutting into the silence. Spinning on your heel, you don't wait to see if he's following you or not.

As the car approaches the next checkpoint, Odaiba Marine Park, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. The sun is starting to dip low in the sky, casting long shadows across the city, and the air has cooled considerably.

The organisers greet you at the entrance to the park, explaining the next challenge: a swimming relay. The task involved swimming out to a buoy, retrieving a flag, and racing back to shore. It sounds straightforward enough - although swimming isn't exactly your strong suit.

"Finally, something I can show off in!" Mingyu grins, thanking the organiser who helped you at the entrance. You bite back a remark about how the whole day has really been about who can show off the most.

"Guess I'll be relying on you to carry us through this one." You chuckle, trying to hide the nerves building in you at the thought of failing.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got us covered. But you’re swimming too, right? It’s a relay, so we both have to take a turn.” He shrugs casually, and you wish you had the confidence he has.

“Right,” you say, forcing a smile. “Guess I’ll just have to do my best.”

The idea of letting your team down, of being the weak link, gnaws at you.

You walk onto the beach, the water glittering in the light of the low, late afternoon sun. The crowd of spectators and media are even larger here. The atmosphere is electric, with the excitement of the event palpable in the air.

As you and Mingyu make your way to the starting point, you try to block out the noise, the cameras, the expectations. All you have to do is get through this challenge.

The event coordinator greets you both, handing Mingyu a sleek wetsuit and giving you a similar one. “You’ve got about ten minutes to suit up and get ready. We’ll start the relay as soon as everyone’s in position.”

Mingyu takes the wetsuit with a confident nod, but you hesitate. The tight suit is designed for efficiency, but you can’t help but feel self-conscious as you pull it on, the material clinging to your skin. When you are finally suited up, you catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the reflective surfaces nearby and have to resist the urge to cringe.

Together, you walk down to the water's edge, where the other teams are already gathering.

"Okay, game plan-" Mingyu gives you a small smile, and you know that he's only really talking strategy to calm you down. "You should take the first lap, and then I can make up for any time you lose - if I even need to!"

You nod, steeling your nerves. Competition is what you are good at, even if swimming is not. You're not going to let yourself down now.

As the starting signal blares, you take a deep breath and plunge into the water. The coolness of the ocean envelops you, and for a brief moment, it's all you can focus on - the sensation of the water against your skin, the rhythmic pull of your arms as you begin to swim.

You feel yourself slipping into that familiar headspace. Brutal efficiency and speed at the cost of the pain in your limbs only further motivates you as you manage to tune out the excited shouts of the spectators and other teams.

Reaching the buoy, you see two of the other teams had already grabbed their flags and turned around. Although the disappointment of not being first flares up in you, you know that all you need to do is keep up with the rest of the group and Mingyu will do the rest of the work for you.

Pushing your aching limbs to their limits, you splash your way back to the shoreline. Your bones sigh with relief as your fingertips graze the sand banks and you hear a splash behind you as Mingyu leaps into the water.

Pulling yourself up onto the beach, spluttering out some wayward water, you watch Mingyu's confident strides through the water. Although you've seen his races before on TV, watching it in real life is like nothing else. The powerful strokes, effortlessly pushing him forward, makes it clear that he was born to be in the water.

By the second quarter of his lap, he's already managed to take the lead. You feel yourself cheering out despite the burning sensation in your lungs. Reaching out for the second flag, he easily lifts it up, beginning to spin to turn back for the second lap.

Your excitement turns to confusion as you watch him just ... stop.

"What are you doing!? Keep going! We're going to win!" You yell, confusion bubbling over into frustration.

But he doesn't hear you, or isn't listening.

Mingyu has turned back around, having spotted another team struggling to untangle their flag from the buoy. Swimming over to them, he steadies the base of the buoy so that the swimmer is able to pull the flag free from its constraints.

Your stomach drops as the team previously in second place breaks out in excited screams, their second-leg swimmer touching the sand bank.

Looking back out at the water incredulously, disappointment searing through you, you watch Mingyu glide back towards the shore, pulling ahead of another team for a third-place position.

"What was that!?" You lash out, as Mingyu pulls himself up onto the bank, panting heavily with droplets of water dripping from his hair and eyelashes. He's looking up at you with a confused, puppy-dog expression, and it's only annoying you more.

"We could have won! Why did you stop?"

Mingyu takes a moment to catch his breath, water dripping from his face as he processes your words. His confusion slowly morphs into something more serious, his brows knitting together as he stands up to face you.

“They needed help,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your frustration only deepens, and you can feel the heat rising in your chest. “But we were winning, Mingyu! This is a competition—we’re here to win, not to play lifeguard!”

Mingyu’s expression hardens, the usual lightness in his eyes replaced by a quiet resolve. “I know it’s a competition, but it’s not just about winning. It’s about more than that—it’s about sportsmanship, about helping each other out. They were stuck, and I wasn’t going to just leave them there.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat. Deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve always valued integrity in sports, the idea that the game is bigger than the outcome. But in the heat of the moment, all you could see was the finish line, and the thought of losing—especially when victory had been within reach—had blinded you to everything else.

You let out a long breath, trying to rein in your emotions. “But we were so close… You were in the lead, Mingyu. We could’ve taken first.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. "You're unbelievable."

He shakes his head, walks up the beach, and leaves you to stew in your quiet shame.

"You got mad at him because he ... helped someone?"

Iseul's obvious confusion is only making you feel worse.

"Yes, that's exactly what I did." You sigh into the phone. You'd called Iseul the moment you'd gotten back to your room, not even waiting to shower off the crusty salt water in your hair.

"Squid, that's a little bit insane." You can hear her grimacing on the other side of the line.

"I know," You admit, chewing on your bottom lip. "This whole day I've been so anal about winning, but the most enjoyable parts were all the times that I wasn't thinking about it! I liked making things for other people, getting to meet the fans, and exploring the Tokyo market. I don't know why I just blew up like that at the end, especially considering, as you said, he was just helping someone."

A long hum buzzes through the phone.

"I don't know squid," Iseul begins, carefully pacing her words. "I think you're so used to thinking about competitions and winning, and now you've been faced with a situation where that's not as important, and a person who has very different priorities to yourself, and you're struggling to deal with it."

"I know, you're right." You say, letting out a long breath. "It's just ... Mingyu's approach to all of this is so different from mine, and I guess a part of me is jealous that he's able to balance having fun and still doing well in competitions in a way that I've never been able to do."

Iseul's voice softens. "It's not a bad thing to want to win, but you have to remember that it's not the only thing that's important in life."

You nod, even though she can't see you. "I can't believe I let my frustration get the better of me. I didn't even give him credit for what he did. He was just being kind, and I ... I snapped at him."

"I don't think it's too late to make things right," Iseul says gently. "Talk to him. Apologise. It's okay to admit when you're wrong."

You fall silent for a moment, considering her words. The knot in your stomach tightens at the thought of facing Mingyu again, but you know that she's right. You can't just let this fester.

"Yeah," You finally say, your voice firmer. "I'll talk to him. I just hope he doesn't think I'm a complete asshole."

Iseul laughs softly. "Based on what you've said about him, Mingyu doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge. He's experienced all of these pressures too, I'm sure he'll understand."

"Thanks, Sullie," You say, grateful for the calming presence of your friend.

"Anytime squid. Now go shower - you can't face up to the sexy man you heavily insulted smelling like sea rot!"

You chuckle, wishing her the best as you hang up the phone. For a moment, you linger at the edge of your bed, letting Iseul's words sink in. Dragging yourself in the shower, the warm water washes away the salt and the stress bubbling up in your mind. As the steam fills the bathroom, you replay the events in your mind, trying to figure out what you’ll say to Mingyu. Apologizing has never been easy for you, especially when it comes to admitting that your single-minded focus on winning might not always be the best approach.

Changing into something more comfortable - sort, worn jeans and a loose sweater - you make your way out to the rooftop garden in the Olympic Village. You aren't sure where you will find Mingyu, but you figure that if you were trying to decompress after a hard day this is where you'd go.

The garden was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of string lights that crisscrossed above the paths. The sky was a deep shade of indigo, dotted with the first stars of the night, and the distant hum of the city below felt like a comforting lullaby. You walked slowly along the path, taking in the scent of blooming flowers and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

As you rounded a corner, you spotted a familiar figure sitting on a bench, his face illuminated by the warm light. Mingyu was there, dressed in casual clothes, his hair still damp from his own shower. He was leaning back against the bench, staring up at the sky.

"Hey, mind if I sit?" You say, your voice tentative.

He looks up, emotions flashing across his eyes as he takes you in. The silence in the moment before he responds feels like it drags on for an eternity.

"Yeah, sure." He finally replies, a coldness to his tone that chills you more than the late evening air.

Carefully perching at the end of the bench, leaving enough room between you, you release a long breath, hoping for the courage to rectify the situation.

"I wanted to apologise for earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You were just trying to help, and I... I was so caught up in the idea of winning that I didn’t see what was really important."

Mingyu's gaze swings around to meet your own, and you can see that he's trying to beat down the anger he's feeling.

"Well, I appreciate that." He relies steelily. "But, you know, this whole obsession with winning isn't cool. You've had this problem with me all day about how I do things - that I'm more laid back, that I like to have fun, or be in the public spotlight. But, really, out of the two of us, it wasn't my actions that ruined the mood."

His words cut through the quiet of the rooftop garden, leaving you momentarily speechless. You knew this conversation wouldn't be easy, but hearing the hurt and frustration in Mingyu's voice brings the reality of the situation crashing down on you.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I know," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're right. I let my obsession with winning cloud my judgment, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry."

Mingyu’s eyes narrow slightly as he studies you, his expression guarded. "It’s not just about what happened today," he says, his voice measured. "It’s like... you’ve been judging me from the start. Like I don’t take this seriously because I’m not as intense as you are. But that’s not who I am. I love competing, but I also believe in enjoying the experience, in being kind to the people around me. That doesn’t make me any less dedicated."

The knot in your chest tightens as you realize just how deeply you’ve misjudged him. You’ve been so wrapped up in your own perspective that you failed to see things from his side.

"I don't know how to express how sorry I am. I got caught up in the winning, but I also got caught up in all the headlines and tabloid articles. I acted like I knew you before I actually did - even though all of your actions today have shown me the complete opposite of how they portray you."

You take in a deep, steadying breath.

"The truth is, you've made me confront a part of myself I've been running from for a while now. Your effortless friendliness, your kindness to everyone, and the way you live your life outside of the competition - it was like watching the truth that I'd been avoiding. The truth that my way of doing things, the complete focus to the detriment of every other part of my life, wasn't actually necessary after all. And that revelation wasn't something I wanted to confront. You just happened to be the unlucky recipient of my turmoil - just by existing - and that was entirely unfair of me. I understand if you think I'm a major asshole or a loser, but if you can find it in you to forgive me I promise all of that baggage will no longer be put on you."

The air weighs heavy in the aftermath of your confession.

Mingyu looks at you for a long moment, before slowly nodding his head.

"I don't think your an asshole or a loser," He says sincerely, with a small chuckle in his voice that immediately reverberates through your body and eases out the tension. "I do think that you should stop reading tabloid newspapers though."

You let out a small huff of laughter, releasing a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding.

"Look, I know what I said was harsh," He begins, and you quickly shake your head in disagreement. "No, it was. The drive you have is something that reminds me a lot of myself. You might not believe it now, but I used to do the exact same thing as you - head completely filled with both my own and other people's expectations. I honestly don't think there's anyone here that's gonna be any different. And your drive, it makes you great at what you do - and you are really great at it - but there's so much more to you than being good at climbing."

"That's the lesson I learned for myself, and that I'm still having to learn. Being good at swimming is not my only personality trait, nor is it the only thing I like to do. I still struggle with what other people expect of me, and, like you showed me today, sometimes I do need to get out of that social media bubble. I really did appreciate that, by the way." He continues.

You feel a wave of relief wash over you at both his forgiveness and his gratitude. Part of you feels even worse for judging this man who's been nothing but kind and introspective, but a larger part feels serene basking in the atmosphere of your late-night confessions.

"Can I ask you something?" You say softly, still apprehensive about disrupting the gentle calm that existed between you.

Mingyu nods, humming a 'yes' for you to continue. His posture is far more relaxed than when you first found him, and under the background lights of the cityscape you can't help but notice how beautiful he looks.

"All of the stuff about the partying and the girls - is any of it true? To be clear, it doesn't matter either way, I'd just like to get to know you better." You ask, feeling too shy to meet his eyes.

Mingyu chuckles, the sound warm and reassuring. "I mean, some of it's true I guess. I don't really think I've done enough to live up to the 'party boy' title though," he says, his tone light but honest. "Yeah, I've had my fun, gone to some parties, met some people, but it's not like I'm out every night getting into fights or causing trouble. The only reason it gets picked up on more than any other athlete is because I have a big following on social media so the stories sell more."

You nod, still too shy to meet his eyes, but you can sense the sincerity in his voice. It’s clear that he’s not trying to brush off the question or hide anything from you.

"I guess when you’re in the public eye, people tend to exaggerate things," he continues, his voice softening. "And, yeah, I’ve been with a few people, but it’s not like I’m out there chasing every girl I meet. Most of it is just rumours and assumptions. You know how it is—people like to talk."

You finally muster the courage to glance up at him, and the gentle look on his face tugs at your heartstrings. "I appreciate you being honest with me," you say quietly. "I didn’t mean to pry, I just… wanted to know the real you."

You watch his face contort from a peaceful smile to an excited expression, raised eyebrows and a large grin that makes you jittery.

"I have an idea - why don't we go out and do something fun? There's not gonna be many chances when the games actually begin, and you're gonna be too tired to want to. But Tokyo nightlife is unlike anything else, and that way we can get to know each other better outside of the pressures of the competition. What do you think?"

He's standing up, his hand outstretched for you to take and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest at the gesture.

This time, you don't need any time to decide. A broad smile taking over your face, you reach out to grab his hand and pull yourself up off of the bench with a small nod.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you say, feeling a rush of excitement that mirrors his own. There’s something thrilling about the spontaneity of the moment, the idea of exploring the city with him, away from the pressures of the competition and the watchful eyes of the media.

Mingyu’s grin widens as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Awesome! I know just the place,” he says, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “It’s this little rooftop bar with an amazing view of the city. I think you’ll love it.”

As you walk together through the vibrant streets of Tokyo, the city’s energy pulses around you. Neon signs flicker in a kaleidoscope of colours, and the sounds of laughter and music fill the air.

When you arrive at the rooftop bar, the view takes your breath away. The city sprawls out below you, a sea of lights stretching as far as the eye can see. It’s magical, and for a moment, you both stand there in silence, taking it all in.

Mingyu leads you to a cozy corner, where you settle into comfortable chairs with a perfect view of the skyline. The atmosphere is relaxed, the kind of place where you can talk for hours without feeling rushed. And that’s exactly what you do.

As the night wears on, the conversation flows easily. You talk about everything and nothing—your favourite places to travel, the challenges of balancing personal life with the demands of being an athlete, your dreams for the future. There’s a vulnerability in the way Mingyu opens up to you, sharing stories and thoughts he doesn’t often reveal. And you find yourself doing the same, feeling a sense of trust and connection that surprises you.

"You know, my flatmate, Iseul, she calls me squid?" You laugh, embarrassed by the childhood nickname.

"Woah, okay - was not expecting that! There must be a story there?" Mingyu replies, a light breeziness to his laughter.

"Nope, no explanation." You quip, shaking your head in mock indignation.

"Oh, come on!"

"Okay, yeah that was a lie." You chuckle. "In elementary school, on the first day of class, Iseul and I sat next to each other in science class. I'd just moved to the area - I think we were about eight or nine? - and I was so nervous to be in a new school and meet new people. Anyways, I hype myself up to talk to the cool looking girl with one of those summer holiday braids. As I go to open my mouth and speak, my pen explodes in my hand, covering my hands, my shirt, my face - everywhere. Iseul has called me squid ever since. I guess I'm just grateful she still decided to take a chance on me after that."

You peak your head downwards, your ears burning up as you let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, wow - that's a pretty good nickname originator." Mingyu hums. "I never really had any proper nicknames in school, the best I've got is my sister calling me squishy when we were really young."

You release a relieved giggle, glad for the levity Mingyu is able to bring to each moment.

You push your hair back for your face in embarrassment, only to feel Mingyu leaning forward and pushing your hair behind your ear for you. With his face so close to your own and the feeling of his hands next to your face, you feel your smile drop and lips part in shock.

The moment only lasts a second, before his face has moved back again, his hands away from your hair.

Mingyu leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face as he watches the city lights flicker. “You know,” he says softly, “I’ve been to so many places, done so many things, but this… tonight… it feels different.”

You look at him, your heart swelling at his words. “I feel the same way,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m glad we did this.”

He turns to you, his eyes warm and full of something you can’t quite name. “Me too.”

As the night stretches and the bar begins to empty, neither of you are in a hurry to leave.

"I heard you guys didn't make it to karaoke yesterday, would you wanna go now?" You question, feeling a levity you haven't felt in a long time.

Mingyu's eyes light up at your suggestion. The look is honestly adorable, and you can't help but feel even more endeared towards this overly enthusiastic man.

"Karaoke? Now? Absolutely!" He exclaims, the smile across his face contagious.

"You really like karaoke, huh?" You tease, enjoying how animated he's become.

"Who doesn't?" He replies, standing up and offering you his hand once again. "Come on, we have to go before the night is over."

Together, you leave the now-empty bar behind, stepping out into the cool night air. The city is still alive, even at this late hour, and you can hear the faint sounds of heels clicking against the pavement as club-goers making their way home, takeaway boxes in hand.

As you walk towards the nearest karaoke spot, Mingyu is practically bouncing with anticipation. “Okay, but just to warn you,” he says with a playful grin, “I take karaoke very seriously. I’ve got a playlist and everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “A playlist? You’re really prepared.”

“Always,” he says with a wink. “But don’t worry, I’m up for anything. What’s your go-to karaoke song?”

You think for a moment, considering the question. “Probably something upbeat and fun. Maybe a classic pop song that everyone knows - some Shinee or BIG BANG?"

Mingyu nods approvingly. “Good choices. I’m all about the crowd-pleasers too. Nothing better than getting everyone singing along.”

By the time you reach the karaoke bar, you’re both buzzing with anticipation. The place is lively, with groups of people gathered around tables, cheering on their friends as they sing their hearts out. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, and you feel any lingering nerves melt away.

Mingyu arranges for a private room, and as you step inside, you’re greeted by colourful lights and a large screen displaying an endless list of songs. You can’t help but feel a little thrill of excitement for spending this time with Mingyu.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” Mingyu says, handing you the remote to choose the first song.

You scroll through the options, finally settling on a catchy, upbeat tune that you know will get the energy flowing. As the music starts, you grab the microphone and throw yourself into the performance, letting go of any self-consciousness. Mingyu watches with a grin, clapping along and cheering you on.

When your song ends, Mingyu takes his turn, picking a song with a dramatic flair. His voice is surprisingly good, and he belts out the lyrics with a passion that’s both impressive and hilarious. You can’t stop laughing, but you’re also genuinely impressed—he’s not kidding when he says he takes karaoke seriously.

The night continues like this, with the two of you trading songs, singing duets, and laughing until your sides hurt. There’s a carefree joy in the air, a sense of freedom that you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s as if, for these few hours, you’re both able to forget about the pressures of the competition and just enjoy the moment.

As the final song of the night plays, a slow, sentimental tune, you find yourselves standing side by side, sharing the microphone. The playful banter fades, replaced by a quiet connection as you sing together. It’s a sweet, unexpected moment of closeness, and when the song ends, you both linger in the silence that follows.

Mingyu turns to you, his expression softening. "Thanks for this, it was a great suggestion." He says quietly.

You smile up at him, feeling the warmth of his words. "It was perfect."

The tension between you floods the room in a manner that feels entirely different to the argument earlier. The way he's looking at you and the fluttering of your heart - you feel yourself being sucked into his aura and he's not doing anything to stop it from happening.

But then it's all too much and all too fast, and your brain processes the situation, and you're here, with the most handsome man you've ever seen, and you're just you. With the little experience of romance you've had, dampened by the very little time you've ever spent trying to pursue it, you feel yourself floundering, unsure of what to do or if you've entirely misread the situation.

What if this was just a friendly night out between teammates? Something to clear the air after a disagreement? What if you're feeling something that he's not?

Breaking the eye contact and pulling your head back around to the karaoke machine, you let out a little, awkward cough.

"We should probably be heading back now - don't want to oversleep and miss the second day of tasks, right?" You say, attempting to keep your voice light but utterly failing.

"Right, yeah, definitely." Mingyu replies, and you can't bear turning back to look at him to further gauge his reaction.

You wake up early on the second day of the campaign. You had tossed and turned all night, your mind racing with endless thoughts about last night. Deciding it is better to get up and do something productive to clear your head, you end up getting up and heading down to the training pool for a few laps of calming cardio.

Reaching the pool, you strip down to your swimsuit, wrapping a tool around your body and holding on to your bag which you intend to just dump next to the pool.

The sight you are greeted with when you reach the pool stops you in your tracks. Mingyu is already there, cutting through the water with powerful, graceful strokes. He's completely in his element, his focus entirely on the rhythm of his movements, oblivious to your presence. For a moment, you stand there, towel clutched around you, watching him. There's something almost mesmerising about the way he moves, each stroke smooth and deliberate, a perfect blend of strength and precision.

As you continue to watch, a swirl of emotions churns within you. The memories of the previous night, the almost-kiss, and the way you pulled away flood your mind. Part of you wants to rush forward, to apologise, to explain your hesitation, but another part holds you back, uncertain of how to approach him.

Caught frozen between your two instincts, it's Mingyu who first notices you standing there. He stops at the edge of the pool, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The tension lingers in the air, something unsettled and unspoken.

“Morning,” Mingyu says, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of something more—concern, maybe?

“Morning,” you reply, managing a small smile as you step closer, placing your bag down beside the pool. “Didn’t expect to see you here so early.”

"Gotta keep a consistent routine going, even if I'm going to spend the day doing more exhausting physical activities." He nods, pulling himself out of the pool and reaching for a towel.

You can't help but marvel at his swimmer's physique. Broad shoulders, a muscular back, and water trickling down his toned stomach. You catch yourself staring, and feel embarrassingly predatory with the way you just ogled him.

"Of course!" Your voice comes out squeaky. "Same here; I just wanted to get in some cardio before the campaign starts again."

"The pool's all yours, I just finished." He makes eye contact with you, offering a small smile as he reaches down and grabs his own bag from the floor.

"Thanks!" It's all you can muster up, and you have to push the bubble of disappointment down as he leaps back up the steps towards the exit.

Perching at the side of the pool, you drop your bag and towel down and submerge yourself into the clarifyingly cold water, brushing aside everything but the feeling of your body moving through the water.

The energy around the Olympic Village is electric, buzzing with the anticipation of the day ahead. You can feel it in the air, in the quick, purposeful strides of athletes and the hurried conversations between event organizers.

As you finish your quick meal in the communal dining area, Hu Chunho’s voice crackles over the loudspeakers, calling all the participants to gather at the main event area. You can feel your heart rate pick up, your body already thrumming with the adrenaline that had become so familiar over the past day.

Rather than travelling by car, all the pairs are given a map of the city and offered clues to find specific landmarks or hidden spots around Tokyo.

Peering over at the map of the team next to you, you note that their clues are different to your own.

"I think we might all have different tasks," You say, looking from the map to Mingyu. He hums a note of understanding.

You look back down at your first clue.

'Where the world converges under neon lights, countless footsteps create a symphony of chaos and order. Stand where five paths meet and become part of Tokyo's heartbeat.'

"Oh, I know what this is!" Mingyu exclaims, a grin gracing his features. "It's Shibuya Crossing - the converging paths and neon lights. It has to be!"

You feel yourself smiling back at him, a spike of pride at his quick wit.

"You're right, I'm sure of it. Let's get going now!" You reply with excited glee.

With the destination clear in your minds, you and Mingyu waste no time. You quickly gather your things and set off toward the nearest subway station. The map in your hands outlines the general route, but Mingyu’s familiarity with the city helps you navigate through the bustling streets more efficiently.

The journey is a blur of fast-paced steps and fleeting glimpses of Tokyo’s vibrant city life. As you near Shibuya, the energy in the air intensifies. The streets grow more crowded, the buildings taller, and the lights brighter. When you finally arrive at Shibuya Crossing, the sight before you is both exhilarating and overwhelming.

The crossing is as chaotic and mesmerising as you imagined. Hundreds of people are waiting at the edges, ready to surge forward the moment the lights change. Neon signs tower above, flashing advertisements in a dazzling array of colours. It’s the epitome of organized chaos—a perfect reflection of Tokyo’s heartbeat.

“Here we are,” Mingyu says, his voice filled with awe as he takes in the scene. “It’s even more intense than I remember.”

You nod, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Yeah, this is incredible. But what’s our next step? We’re here, but I’m sure we need to do something to complete the task.”

Mingyu pulls out the next clue, which had been tucked under the first. “‘Capture the moment where the world pauses and moves in perfect harmony. Your time in the spotlight will guide you to the next step.’”

You exchange a glance, both of you quickly understanding the challenge. “We need to take a photo or video of the crossing,” you suggest. “But it’s more than just capturing the chaos—we need to find that moment of perfect harmony.”

The two of you wait, watching the flow of people, searching for that precise moment when the crossing becomes a symphony of movement. After a few cycles of the lights changing, you finally see it—a brief pause when all the pedestrians are perfectly aligned in their crossings, creating a visual harmony that’s almost surreal.

“Now!” Mingyu says, raising his phone to capture the scene. You run into the centre of the crossing, spreading your arms up in the air and grinning as wide as you can before running back towards a chuckling Mingyu.

"Getting more into the spirit of things, huh?" He teases, and you feel your cheeks turning red.

"More points for a viral moment." You remind him playfully, feeling that familiar elevated pace as he smiles back at you.

You take a moment to appreciate the photo before Mingyu checks the time on his phone. “We should send this in to confirm we’ve completed the task. I think they’ll give us our next clue once we do.”

With a nod, you send off the photo, your heart still racing with the thrill of the moment.

Mingyu’s phone buzzes with a new notification. He checks it and grins, showing you the screen. “Looks like we’re moving on to the next location. Ready to keep going?”

You smile, the excitement in your chest bubbling over. “Absolutely. Let’s see where this adventure takes us next.”

'Where giants clash in a ring of honour, find the arena where tradition and strength reign supreme. Seek the sacred ground where wrestlers bow to ancient rituals and the thundering footsteps echo the spirit of Japan’s warriors.'

"Wait," you say, your eyes lighting up as you reread the clue. "Do we get to go to the sumo wrestling arena?"

Mingyu looks up from the clue, his own excitement building as he connects the dots. “Ryogoku Sumo Hall! That has to be it. The 'ring of honour' and 'giants clashing'—it’s definitely talking about sumo wrestling!”

With your destination clear, you both set off, navigating through the bustling streets of Tokyo. The journey takes you deeper into the heart of the city, where the modern skyscrapers slowly give way to more traditional structures. The closer you get to Ryogoku, the more the city's energy seems to shift.

The atmosphere around the hall is vibrant, with banners fluttering in the breeze and the faint sounds of drums echoing from within. It's as if the very air is charged with the spirit of the ancient sport.

As you and Mingyu step into the grand interior of Ryogoku Sumo Hall, you’re immediately struck by the rich history that permeates the space. The arena, with its towering roof and sacred dohyō at the centre, exudes a sense of reverence. You can almost hear the echoes of past matches and the cheers of crowds that have filled these seats over the years.

A guide approaches you with a warm smile, holding a scroll that seems fitting for the traditional setting. “Welcome to Ryogoku Sumo Hall,” she says. “Your task today is to immerse yourselves in the ancient traditions of sumo. You’ll be participating in a special challenge that combines both physical skill and cultural understanding.”

Mingyu and you exchange intrigued glances as the guide continues, “First, you’ll each don a mawashi, the traditional sumo belt. Then, you’ll enter the dohyō for a ceremonial shiko—this is the ritual leg-stomping exercise that all sumo wrestlers perform to purify the ring and demonstrate their strength.”

The guide gestures towards a small area where the costumes have been laid out for you. You both eagerly move to change, slipping into the mawashi with some assistance. It feels a bit awkward at first, but the sense of tradition and the significance of the garment quickly overtake any discomfort.

Once you’re ready, the guide leads you to the edge of the dohyō where a set of cameras and one of the event coordinators is waiting on the sidelines.

“The shiko involves raising your leg as high as you can and then stomping down forcefully,” the guide explains to you and the audience. “It symbolizes grounding yourself and dispelling any evil spirits. It’s as much about mental focus as it is physical strength.”

Mingyu steps into the ring first, his expression one of determined focus. He takes a deep breath, then lifts his leg high, bringing it down with a powerful stomp. The sound reverberates through the hall, and even from the sidelines, you can feel the intensity of the movement.

Encouraged by Mingyu’s performance, you follow suit. You step into the ring, feeling the cool clay beneath your feet. Taking a moment to centre yourself, you lift your leg, feeling the stretch in your muscles, and then bring it down with as much force as you can muster. The stomp resonates through the space, and for a moment, you feel totally connected to the earth of the theatre.

After completing the shiko, the guide smiles approvingly. “Well done,” she says. “For the final part of your task, you’ll need to demonstrate your understanding of the sumo rituals by performing a brief reenactment of the pre-match ceremonies. This includes the ritual clapping, salt-throwing, and bowing. It’s important to show respect and precision in each movement.”

You and Mingyu work together to recall the steps you’ve observed from past sumo matches. As you move through the rituals—clapping your hands sharply to summon the attention of the gods, throwing salt to purify the ring, and bowing to show respect to your opponent—you feel ever more connected to Mingyu.

As you finish the task, the guide hands you a small, ceremonial fan, a symbol of your successful completion of the challenge. “You’ve shown great respect and enthusiasm for our traditions,” she says. “Your next clue will lead you to your following adventure in Tokyo. But for now, take a moment to appreciate the history you’ve become a part of.”

You and Mingyu exchange a look of mutual pride, before offering one last wave to the audience and going to take off the costume.

Exiting the sumo hall through the front entrance, you hear a ding on your phone and pull it out to reveal the third clue.

'Where the flame of unity is rekindled, and the world’s eyes gather once more. Seek the grounds where champions are crowned, and the spirit of competition ignites the heart of Japan.'

"Back to the Olympic stadium?" Mingyu queries, looking over the clue.

"Sounds like it," You say, still uncertain. The clue's language is undeniably pointing back to the arena, but you're unsure of what could be waiting for you back at the beginning.

With the Tokyo National Stadium as your destination, the two of you pick up the pace, heading back through the city. The streets are familiar now, and the route to the stadium is etched into your memory from the many times you’ve travelled to and from the venue.

Stepping into the stadium, you spot two of the over teams already waiting in one corner of the track field, and make your way over to them.

"Guess we're all here for the final task?" Chunghee beams.

Taking a moment, you look around the stadium, completely soaking in the atmosphere. In a few weeks, you'll be back walking here with your whole team, representing your country. The sense of awe and pride has you feeling small under the arena lights.

Soon enough, the rest of the teams begin to filter into the stadium.

Feeling a presence behind you, you spin around expecting to see Mingyu. A smile breaks over your face as you see your other teammate walking up to you.

"Didn't catch you last night. Did you finally get that night in?" Wonwoo chuckles. His clothes are dirty, as if he's been rolling around in the mud somewhere.

"Not quite," You respond, a ghost of a smile flickering at your lips.

"Cryptic."

"Gotta keep you on your toes, haven't I?"

"Please, you're about as predictable as the sunrise." He teases, and you bat his arm in mock offence.

"You wouldn't be able to guess what I was doing if you tried." You retort.

"Oh, really? It wouldn't have something to do with the hunky swimmer that hasn't let you out of his sight since you got here?"

You feel your cheeks warm at Wonwoo's teasing, but quickly regain your composure, rolling your eyes in response. "Oh, please," you say, crossing your arms playfully. "You're just jealous of me and Mingyu's great teamwork."

Wonwoo smirks, clearly not buying your casual deflection. "Uh-huh, sure. But just so you know, you're not as subtle as you think." He winks, making you groan in mock frustration.

"Come on, Wonwoo, can we just focus on the tasks and not whatever wild theories you're cooking up in that head of yours?" You protest with a lightness to your tone.

He chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll back off. But if I were a betting man, I'd put money on you two spending last night together. He's practically glowing today."

You shake your head, unable to suppress a smile. "Maybe it's you who's got the crush."

"I have it on good authority that I'm not the one with the crush."

"What's that supposed to mean-"

"Hey, man, ready for the final challenge?" Before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo turns around to greet Mingyu who's walked over to the pair of you, but not without shooting you a knowing look first.

Mingyu nods, glancing at you with a smile. "Absolutely. What have you two been talking about?"

"Just catching up," You reply quickly, giving Wonoo a look that says to keep his mouth shut.

Wonwoo laughs, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder. "Yeah, nothing important. Let’s just say I’m curious to see how this day pans out."

The event coordinators hand you over the final task - although the course at the middle of the arena has already given the game away.

The last challenge of the day was revealed to be an intense relay race. Each team member would have to compete a different leg of the course, each designed to play to different strengths. The course was a mix of speed, agility, and sheer endurance - sprints though tight obstacle courses, balance tests on narrow means, and a gruelling final leg that involve scaling a steep incline with a weighted sack of rice together.

"Hey, so, how do you wanna play this?" Mingyu calls out, huddling next to you as to conceal your planning from the other teams. The warmth from his body next to you makes your breath hitch in your throat.

"Uh, um, I'm amenable. Is there a particular part you'd rather do?" You cough, looking over the course with an analytical eye.

"Your balance is undoubtedly better than mine, so maybe you should do the beam and I'll do the sprints?" He replies and you nod in agreement.

"That makes sense to me!" You smile before taking your phone from your pocket to take a photo of the two of you. "Gotta keep up the socials, right?"

Mingyu shakes his head in surprise, a small laugh escaping him.

"You must have had a good teacher."

You wink at him in response, and instantly feel the blush creeping back up your neck.

Looking around, you see the other teams still huddled together, getting ready and planning their strategies.

"So, uh, you and Wonwoo are close right?" Mingyu asks, the confident air to his tone noticeably lacking.

"Oh, yeah! We were in the same climbing club when we were younger - made it right to the top together." You smile, thinking back over the memories. "You know, one time, we both got stuck on this insanely tough route. Everyone else had given up, but not Wonwoo. He was determined to figure it out, and I obviously couldn't let him be the only one to finish, so we stayed there for hours. Eventually, we worked together to figure out the route, and we managed to do it. I swear, he more than anyone else taught me the value of perseverence, even if it was out of spite."

Mingyu listens intently, his expression softening as he watches the nostalgia play across your face. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot together."

“Yeah, we have,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “He’s like a brother to me. We’ve always had each other’s backs, no matter what.”

Mingyu nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s really cool. It’s good to have someone to bring you back to earth."

"-to the starting positions! The team that performs best across all challenges will be crowned the champions. But remember, this is also about raising awanress and funds, to keep the energy high and the spirits up!"

“Ready?” Mingyu’s voice breaks through the announcement, and you look up to see him watching you, a question in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

The whistle blows, and the first leg of the relay begins. Mingyu takes off like a shot, his powerful strides eating up the ground as he navigates the winding course with ease. You watch him, your heart in your throat, feeling that familiar pressure being assauged by pride.

When it gets to your turn, you sprint up to the balance beam, forcing yourself to block out the noise of the crowd and focus solely on the task ahead. The beam is narrow, barely wider than your foot, and it wobbles slightly with every step you took. Every muscle in your body is tense, coiled like a spring, ready to react to the slightest imbalance, but you are in your element.

As you near the end of the beam, the crowd’s cheers grow louder, and you feel a surge of triumph as you leap off, landing smoothly on the other side. No time to celebrate, though—there is still the final climb ahead.

Running over to where Mingyu is waiting at the base of the incline, you begin to hoist the rice sacks over your shoulders, exchanging a determined nod before starting the final ascent. The incline is steep, and with the added weight of the sacks, every step becomes a test of endurance and strength. You focus on your breathing, matching your pace with Mingyu’s, both of you pushing each other to keep going despite the burning in your legs.

As you near the top, you catch sight of another team struggling halfway up the incline. One of their members has slipped, and their sack has tumbled down, spilling some of its contents. The other teammate is desperately trying to help, but it’s clear they’re exhausted and frustrated, their progress slow.

Mingyu notices too, glancing at you with a question in his eyes. “It's your call.” he says, his voice tight with effort.

You hesitate, the competitive part of you screaming to keep going, to push through and secure your victory. But another part of you, a bigger part, tugs at your conscience. You know what you have to do.

“Let’s help them,” you say, making the decision in a heartbeat.

Without waiting for a response, you turn and start making your way back down the incline. Mingyu follows without hesitation, both of you quickly reaching the struggling team. You offer a hand to the fallen teammate, helping them back to their feet, while Mingyu retrieves the spilled sack.

You can hear the live stream commentator yelling frenzily into the mic.

“Here, we’ve got this,” you say, as you and Mingyu steady their loads and start guiding them up the incline. The other team looks at you with a mix of surprise and gratitude, clearly touched by the gesture.

The climb is slower now, and you can feel the weight of the rice sacks digging into your shoulders, but there’s a different kind of satisfaction growing in your chest. When you finally reach the top, you help the other team place their sacks down before doing the same with yours. The other team thanks you breathlessly, clearly overwhelmed by your assistance.

As you all cross the finish line together, you know you’ve lost the race, but the sense of accomplishment in doing the right thing far outweighs the sting of defeat. The crowd’s cheers are louder than ever, and you can see that many of the spectators have noticed what you did.

Trying to regain your composure, you look over at Mingyu who is looking back at you with an affectionate smile.

"We didn't win." He pants, causing you to let out a sharp, breathless laugh.

Stepping closer, you place a steading hand on his arm. He looks up at you from his crouched over position, before moving to straighten up. Whether it is the adrenaline of the climb, or the confidence from your conversation with Wonwoo, you don't move away this time.

"I know," You smile, eyes sparkling. "I still feel like I've won something though."

"Oh, really?" He replies, moving closer still as that infamous grin breaks out across his face.

"Yeah." You nod, closing the gap between the two of you.

"You wanna make a real viral moment?" Mingyu asks, his tone light and jovial but his eyes conveying a sense of seriousness.

"You know what, I would actually quite like to." You respond, pushing onto your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. Although you can hear the screams of the fans and other athletes alike behind you, the sound quickly fades into the background as the immense feeling of passion and joy overtakes you.

HIs hand cups your face, pulling you closer to him as his lips move against yours.

Finally breaking apart, he rests his head against yours, shallow breaths being exchanged between the two of you.

"You know that this is gonna make tabloid headlines tomorrow, right?"

#svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu fic

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mingtinys · 5 months

Text

" i can't wait to spend forever with you "

pairing : kim mingyu x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.4 k

a/n : this is sheer mingyu brain rotting fluff and i am not the least bit ashamed

You wake before him. Soft light filters in through the sheer curtains, warming your skin and painting Mingyu's features with a delicate glow. He looks surreal. Like a statue carefully sculpted from pure marble. A dream come to life before your very eyes.

It's hard not to admire him when he's like this. His eyelids lax, long lashes splayed out beneath, the freckle at the tip of his nose, the pout on his lips. Every little detail that makes Mingyu, Mingyu. The rise and fall of his chest is easy and even, bare skin framed by the white sheets that slipped from his shoulder during the night. You tug them up when he shivers, letting your fingertips linger at his jaw.

You try your best to trace along the sharp curve with a feathery light touch. But it isn't long until your impulsive thoughts win over and your lips move to capture his. You think you've been pretty discreet until you feel Mingyu hum against your lips and start mirroring your movements.

He's all teeth as he smiles into the kiss. "Good morning to you too." The laugh he lets out is melodic and just hushed enough to not disturb the calm and quiet atmosphere.

"Sorry, I promise I wasn't trying to wake you."

"You are more than welcome to wake up me like that any day." There's a rawness to his voice, raspy yet airy at the same time. It makes your insides melt.

"You have the day off?"

"Mm-hm."

"How do you wanna spend it?"

"With you." He's still got that dopey smile on his face, eyelids droopy from not being fully awake quite yet. He really is a dream, you think. Mingyu pulls his arm from the warmth of the sheets and takes the hand you have resting on his jaw into his own. He intertwines your fingers and holds your clasped hands up where he can see, before bringing them down to his lips and pressing a long kiss to the back of your hand. The simple gesture makes your heart swell with a familiar warmth.

He readjusts, slipping his hand from your grasp in favor of holding yours at the bend of where your palm meets your fingers. The way a prince would when asking for a dance. And as his thumb ghosts over the base of your empty ring finger, your heart stops for a beat. His eyes never break contact with the spot as he speaks.

"I can't wait to spend forever with you." There's a conviction to how he speaks. The lack of hesitance in his words implies he's thought about this before. The lovesick glaze over his eyes only makes it all the more sincere.

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

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littlemisshyperfixation · 3 months

Text

Mingyu Fic Recommendations Part 2

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

part 1 part 3

One Shots

Singing Low (s a f) by @hannieehaee ✩♬ ₊˚. despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (f a s) by @gyuswhore ✩♬ ₊˚. Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

good for you (s f) by @taeyongdoyoung ✩♬ ₊˚. your boyfriend is literally perfect and treats you like a princess but you want him to completely lose control

Over My Head (a s f) by @hannieehaee ✩♬ ₊˚. moving out of state for college was a terrifying experience for most people. fortunately for you, you had your older brother wonwoo to guide you while there, and even better, his best friend mingyu.

Endless Adoration (s f) by @wonusite ✩♬ ₊˚. ❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞

Bloom for Me (a s f) by @sanakiras ✩♬ ₊˚. even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

Reckless (s) by @bitchlessdino ✩♬ ₊˚. Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of.

I can do it for you (s) by @hoshifighting ✩♬ ₊˚. After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch.

kim mingyu's (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity (s f) by @shuaflix ✩♬ ₊˚. ❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞

Ways to Have a Man in the Palm of Your Hand (s) by @hoshifighting ✩♬ ₊˚. In the flow of uncertainty that defined your situationship with Mingyu, you decide to take action, making Mingyu start chasing after you like a loyal puppy.

484 notes · View notes

minisugakoobies · 3 months

Text

Whipped | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, idiots to lovers, slightly crack-ish, non-idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: Mingyu's a stubborn idiot, but he's also the softest human alive, Minghao's kind of a jerk tbh, use of they/them pronouns for reader, this is honestly just fluffy nonsense meant to give you warm fuzzies

Word Count: 3.9k

Disclaimers: Obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: No matter what his friends say, Mingyu is definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent not whipped for you.

A/N: Yep, another Mingyu fic. I can't help it. 🤷‍♀️

Unbeta’d as usual. If you liked this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

Kim Mingyu is not whipped.

This is what he forcefully reminds himself when you walk into Minghao’s party, looking sweeter than a spring day, a phrase which if he’s being honest is maybe a little more poetic than he’d normally use. That’s okay. He can be a little dramatic if he wants. Why not? Seokmin does it all the time and no one bats an eye.

In any case. Mingyu is not whipped.

That’s why he turns his head, pretending he doesn’t see you dazzle everyone around you with your beautiful smile. While he’s pretending, he also acts like he can’t feel his own lips tug upwards at the soft chime of your laughter, a Pavlovian response to your happiness. No, his smile is unrelated to whatever you’re doing. He’s just in a good mood, one that didn’t suddenly ascend to the heavens when you entered the room.

Mingyu’s not whipped.

He sinks further into the couch where he’s sitting, a little off to the side of where Minghao, Jeonghan, and Seokmin are talking. Theoretically, he’s part of the conversation, adding the occasional hum or laugh, but he’s really not contributing much of anything. He’s too busy thinking about you. Not like that.

(But not not like that, either.)

In any case, Mingyu remains firmly unwhipped - solid, unshaken, definitely not falling apart over you. He’ll be absolutely fine, as long as you stay on the other side of the room, where your charms can’t reach him. Except that he can’t stop watching you, and now you’re looking at him, and even though he averts his eyes, it’s too late. He can sense you walking towards him, his heartbeat increasing with every step you take.

Not. Whipped.

“Hey there, stranger.”

Instinctively, at the sound of your voice, he glances up at you, like a flower tilting its face towards your light. He nods at your greeting, mumbling a hello of his own. The others sitting around him all greet you as well, but you merely nod in reply, your full attention on Mingyu.

“Do you wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

If Mingyu had a list of things he loved about you, which he does not, being straightforward would be near the top. Of this totally fictional list that does not exist. He admires it, actually, the way you have no patience for dishonesty or deception.

Even though your question is blunt, your smile remains soft as you wait for his response, and Mingyu rethinks his ranking. Item number one on that imaginary list - the way you smile, at him, specifically. It’s so warm, like being hugged by the rays of the sun itself. It makes him happier than he ever thought possible. He wants to curl up like a cat and bask in the feeling. If he’s not careful, he might start purring right now.

He’s totally super normal about you.

“Me?” he asks, stalling for time, praying that a somewhat reasonable explanation falls into his lap in the meantime. He’s only a fair-to-moderate bullshitter, so his hopes are low. He can feel the others staring at the two of you, very obviously listening, because no one in your friend group seems to respect boundaries. It’s not helping. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you chirp back, and he does, he knows exactly what you mean, just like you know exactly what he’s doing. “You’ve been ignoring my texts. What’s going on?”

What’s going on is that Mingyu is not whipped, even if it feels like his insides are turning to melty goo beneath your inquisitive gaze.

“I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just been busy,” he shoots, aiming for breezy and landing just shy of nonchalant.

“Busy doing what?”

“You know. Stuff.” Oh god, he really sucks at this. “And things.” Jesus Christ.

You fold your arms, and Mingyu thinks it’s cute the way you’re squinting at him, one eye closed as you assess his response. Unbearably cute, actually, and getting worse the longer it goes on.

“Yeahhhh, that’s not good enough,” you inform him, and with one hand on his arm (Mingyu ignores the electric current that lights up his nervous system when you touch him. It’s just static and definitely not anything else), you pull him to his feet and lead him out of Minghao’s apartment and into the empty hallway. He follows, not because he’d follow you anywhere, but because he’s curious.

Once the door is closed behind you, you turn to him, a serious expression on your face. “Gyu. Be honest with me.” Always, he thinks reflexively. “This is about what those guys said the other night, isn’t it?”

Of course you know exactly what it is that has his head spinning right now. The two of you have been friends for ages, but Mingyu still can’t get over how easily you always seem to read him.

A few nights ago, Mingyu and you had been out to dinner with a few others, and it had been like any other time you were hanging out with your friends, lots of laughing and teasing and just being happy dumbasses together. Only on this particular evening, the food had taken a very long time to arrive, but the drinks kept coming in the meanwhile, and you’d gotten a little drunker than usual, and a little clingier, sticking to Mingyu like a magnet.

Not that Mingyu minded having you hanging on his side all night. Nor did he mind keeping a close eye on you, making sure you were drinking your water and eating to help soak up some of the alcohol. None of that bothered him at all - you were his best friend; why wouldn’t he take care of you? Especially when you smiled at him and thanked him for being so sweet, so good to you, over and over.

(He can’t even begin to explain how that made him feel.)

The others noticed. And commented. Mingyu tried to ignore them, but they just wouldn’t shut up. By the time they joked that Mingyu was your trained puppy, suggesting you buy him a pretty collar and a leash to go with it, he’d had enough.

And when he tried to express that, Minghao had shut him down with a scoff, a wave of his hand, and one word.

“Whipped.”

Mingyu admits that he’s a lot of things, but he’s not a whipped man. He’s not. He’s not, no matter what the others say. No matter how you’re looking at him right now, concern etched all over your lovely face, lip tucked between your teeth as you wait for his answer. He’s strong. And proud.

(And maybe a stubborn idiot, but that’s neither here nor there.)

He considers just not responding at all, but he knows how persistent you are, so he settles for a half-shrug. You sigh, leaning back against the wall, arms crossing in front of you.

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” you say softly, shaking your head. “They were joking. They said so! And you know I didn’t take it seriously for a second.”

“You didn’t hear everything they said!” he protests, crossing his own arms. You’d missed most of the barbs flying his way that night, too busy enjoying yourself. Which weirdly made him happy. He hated the thought of those guys ruining your night. “They said I was your pet!”

“So? Jeonghan always tells Seokmin he’s got the zoomies when he gets hyper. He knows he’s not actually a dog! It’s just stupid jokes! Our friends are dumb!” you laugh, throwing up your hands. “That’s what we like about them!”

Mingyu can’t help it, he starts to laugh with you, but then he catches himself, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.”

“Then help me understand.”

How can he help you understand, when he’s not entirely sure he understands it himself, this storm inside him, clouding his mind?

“I…” He glances wildly around the hallway, but there’s nothing out here to help him. He can hear the bass from whatever song is playing inside the party, a low, steady thrumming that contrasts the erratic thumping of his heart. “I don’t like being called weak.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what they said?”

“Yeah. Or I guess… they implied it. When they said I was whipped for you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing he’s pouting and it doesn’t help his defense, but it’s just his default setting. “But I’m not.”

Because he’s staring into your eyes as he speaks, he catches it - the quick expression of sorrow that pinches your brow at his explanation - but it’s fleeting, gone in an instant. If he weren’t watching your face so intently, he would’ve missed it.

“Gyu,” you sigh, the corners of your mouth lifting in what is clearly meant to be a smile, except it doesn’t reach your eyes, and for a moment, the confusing tide of emotions inside him still, and he feels only sadness. That’s not how you smile. “Can you please let it go? Everyone was being an idiot. That’s nothing new! Besides…” You trail off, staring at the floor.

He waits a beat. “Besides what?”

You huff and shrug. “It’s nothing, forget it.”

The uncertainty in your tone unnerves Mingyu even more than your fake smile. Where’s that directness of yours?

“No, tell me. Besides what?”

With a deep breath, you look him straight in the eye. “Besides, I’m not delusional. I know you don’t like me like that. I’m not your type.”

Your voice grows quieter at the end of your sentence, just as the music coming from the other side of the door fades out, and to Mingyu, the silence only amplifies your words, leaving them ringing loudly in his ears like a sonic boom. You’re not his type?

He blinks rapidly, as if that will somehow help.

“You - you’re not - “ He pauses, searching fruitlessly for the end of his sentence, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Right. I’m not.”

The laugh you let out sounds so fake that he winces, and a terrible realization hits him. You’ve taken his stammering to be a complete thought - a confirmation of what you’d said, that you aren’t someone he’d like like that. Curling in on yourself, arms wrapping around your stomach, you shrink away from him, only a few inches but the distance feels so vast.

“Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

Mingyu’s speechless. As his silence grows, so does the space between the two of you, until you’re standing by the door, hand on the knob. He feels like he should be doing something right now, snapping into action of some sort, but his brain is still stuck on your declaration.

“Okay,” he finally croaks, because it’s clear that you’re waiting for him to speak, and he doesn’t know what else to do but agree with you, because you’re usually right and he usually agrees with you.

“Right,” you say again, but you look slightly unsure, and it rattles Mingyu, making him feel even more unsettled than before. “Okay.” And then you open the door and slip back inside Minghao’s apartment.

Alone in the hallway, Mingyu slumps against the wall. Well. That was a spectacular failure. He’d tried to explain how their comments upset him and all he’d done was upset you. The shift in your demeanor was so obvious to him, a flashing neon sign basically screaming “you fucked up!” in blazing red light.

He gives himself a minute to try to pull himself together, then he returns to the party. As soon as he’s inside, he scans the room, until he finds you standing in the corner, hanging out with another friend, Chan, talking and laughing like everything is fine. Which, as Mingyu feels deep in the pit of his stomach, he knows it is not.

His previously vacated spot on the couch remains open, so he slips back into it, ignoring the curious looks of his friends. He doesn’t want to answer any stupid questions right now, doesn’t want to deal with any of their crap while he tries to wrap his head around what just happened in the hallway.

Naturally, his friends immediately start nosing into his business.

“What was that all about?” Minghao asks, turning to face Mingyu. Seokmin and Jeonghan both twist towards him, eager to hear his answer.

“What was what about?” Mingyu replies, eyes flitting to you again. Chan must be bringing his A game with his jokes tonight, because you’re giggling Mingyu’s favorite giggle, the one that makes your nose twitch like a little bunny’s. It always makes him swell with pride when he coaxes it out of you with one of his dumb jokes, so seeing it right now and knowing he’s not the cause of it, well, it’s not exactly helping improve his mood.

“What was that dramatic exit?” Minghao gestures towards the door.

“It was nothing. We were just talking.” Again he looks at you. And again, your attention is focused solely on the man beside you. Mingyu doesn’t understand. Can’t you feel him looking at you?

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Jeonghan drawls, miming the crack of a whip with his hand. Seokmin and Minghao crack up beside Mingyu, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy trying to catch your eye. He wants to see you smile at him. Just one smile. That’s all he needs to make him feel better.

His friends lose interest in teasing him when he doesn’t respond, and the conversation moves on. As does the evening. Mingyu bonds with the couch, not leaving except to grab refills of his drink, but otherwise he’s a fixed point in this party, unlike you, who are constantly moving, floating from friend to friend, spreading joy across the room.

Spreading joy to everyone except him, that is. No matter how much he watches you, your light never shines on him again, not like it did earlier. He knows what this is. You’re the one doing the avoiding now. And oh my god does he hate it. He feels cold and lonely, withering away, dying for your attention. For your affection. Because he needs it to thrive.

Oh.

Oh wow, he’s stupid. The others are right.

Kim Mingyu is whipped.

For you, and you only.

Like it has been every few minutes since he returned from the hallway, his gaze is drawn back to you, and this time, it’s different. Because the mask you’ve been wearing all night finally slips, and Mingyu sees the wrinkle of your brow, and the slight downturn of your mouth, and he understands. You’re just as miserable as he is.

That absolutely will not do. He needs to fix this right now.

Mingyu rises to his feet again, not even waiting for Minghao to finish the story he’s been telling, not that he’s been listening anyway, and starts walking towards you. When he’s a mere arm’s length away, it occurs to him that he doesn’t have any plan, just an urgent need to make you look happy again. And also pay attention to him, because he needs your attention just like he needs you, so he panics, and grabs your hand.

You look at him in surprise as his fingers slip between yours.

“Come with me. Please,” he adds, a bit hasty in his anxiousness, already tugging you out of the room and into the hallway. A pair of voices follow you both out, as Minghao and Jeonghan both jeer loudly at the sight of Mingyu dragging you away, but thankfully the door drowns them out, letting only the beat of the music through. Which would be a good thing, except that now it’s just Mingyu and a very quiet you. With your hand still in his.

“Is everything o-”

“You are my type.”

You start speaking at the same time he does, but he’s louder, blurting his entire sentence out before you can finish yours. Your mouth freezes in an ‘o,’ and oh, Mingyu can’t believe what a dumbass he’s been for so long. How did everyone else see it but him?

“I just. Wanted you to know. That you are the type of person. That I like.” Why can’t. He complete. A whole sentence? “Smart, funny, gorgeous….”

You glance away from him, suddenly shy at that last word, and it just reinforces Mingyu’s point.

Unfortunately, it does not make it any easier for him to say what he’s trying to say.

“But you’re not just my type? You’re the person I like. Hao’s right. They’re all right. I am whipped for you.” He frowns. “Damn it, I hate it when Hao’s right.”

That makes you laugh, a quick “ha!” that makes your eyes light up, and Mingyu finds himself feeling stronger, so he doubles down. Might as well own it.

“But he did, he got this one right. I’m down bad.” He brings your entwined hands up, clutching them in front of him, maybe pressing his luck a little, maybe laying it on thick, but it’s barely an exaggerated version of the truth if it’s not pure simple fact.

“‘Gyu,” you groan, rolling your eyes, but there’s a twitch in the corner of your mouth that won’t cease, and it makes his heart sing. “Knock it off. I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t think you do.” He takes a deep breath and steps forward, backing you into the wall behind you. Your hands are caught between you, and he presses the palm of yours against his chest, wondering if you feel the spike in his heartbeat when you inhale sharply.

“Maybe you should tell me,” you say, eyes wide but voice calm, and again, he marvels at how you strike straight at the heart of the matter, and he decides he can do the same.

“I’m telling you that I like you.”

The next few seconds are the longest in Mingyu’s life. Nothing has ever lasted this long in the history of time. Entire civilizations are built and fall within the blink of your eyelashes. You keep looking back and forth between his eyes, and he hopes that you see whatever it is you need to believe him, and tries his best to convey clearly what he feels. Even if he’s having trouble speaking his thoughts, at least his gaze can express it.

“You like me…”

He nods. “A lot.” Now that he’s said it out loud, it’s hitting him just how much.

“You like me…” you start again slowly, frowning slightly, “but you don’t like it when others point that out?”

“I just - “ Mingyu breaks off, a sharp puff of breath exploding out in frustration. How to explain it? “I didn’t like them saying it the way they did. It… it made me feel like they were calling me weak or something.” Your frown deepens and he stumbles on. “But - but that’s stupid, and I know it’s stupid. And I - I don’t care anymore.”

He clings to your hands, a lifeboat in a sea of turmoil, the warmth of your fingers locked between his giving him hope that this isn’t going completely downhill, this sudden confession of his. It’d be just like him to ruin this with his impatience. He’s always too eager.

“So what do you care about?” you ask, gaze burning into his.

And then there’s you. Always so calm and direct. God, he adores you.

“You. How you feel.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, you lower your eyes, in the briefest of glances at his mouth, and Mingyu feels that electric shock again, tingling all the way to his fingertips. He barely breathes as he waits for you to speak.

“If you really are whipped for me,” you finally say, “you should go tell them that.” You jerk your chin in the direction of the door.

If that’s what you want, then that’s what he’ll do. Without a second’s hesitation, Mingyu spins, his hand gripping yours to pull you back into the apartment with him.

Seokmin gawks openly as Mingyu stomps across the room. Minghao and Jeonghan exchange a glance that last night would’ve set Mingyu spiraling, but now rolls off him like water. Mingyu comes to a stop directly in front of his friends, squaring his shoulders, trying frantically to corral his thoughts into something coherent.

But before he can open his mouth, Minghao leans forward, placing his chin in his hand. “Shhh, guys, I think the puppy’s going to speak!”

“Hao, shut the fuck up.”

Minghao bristles when Mingyu snaps at him. Jeonghan and Seokmin both cackle, but then Mingyu glares at the two of them, and they fall silent. He takes a deep breath.

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t care what you guys say about me anymore, because I like YN.”

The words spill out of him so easily, not even the tiniest nudge needed. He glances at you to find you wearing a delighted expression and his heart goes buoyant again. He decides to ride the wave.

“They’re amazing. I’d do anything to make them smile, so if that makes me whipped, then I guess I’m fucking whipped.”

He’s facing you now, not caring if the others can see the obvious lovestruck look in his eye as he keeps talking, not to them, but to you. Aware that they’re probably all smirking at one another, because they figured it out before he did, but he doesn’t give a single goddamn.

“I can’t get enough of their smile. And the way they laugh. I like how sweet they are. How honest.” Mingyu can’t stop talking at this point. It’s all gotta come out. “But never mean about it. Even when it’s something you don’t want to hear. Especially when it’s something you need to hear.”

Your hand twitches in his with every sentence he states. He squeezes back gently as his statements get louder.

“I’m not kidding when I say I’d do anything to make them smile. I’d walk the ocean floor for them. Climb a volcano and surf the lava down barefoot. Capture a star fr-”

“Oh my god, we get it, you like them!” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Enough with the bad poetry.”

“Also? We know.” Minghao snorts. “No need for the dramatic announcement, it’s not news.”

Mingyu barely hears him, too lost in the way you’re smiling at him now. Forget his earlier rankings. This smile beats all the others. Shoots directly to the top of the list, which, now that he thinks about it, he kinda wants to write down and give to you, maybe framed. Or maybe he’ll stick it on his fridge - with a heavy magnet, of course, because it’s such a long list.

He completely loses all interest in the rest of the room, even though he’s pretty sure most of the party is staring at the two of you. Instead, he finds himself hanging anxiously on the breath you take, hoping for you to say something, to give him an indication of where things stand between you now. Because he knows you’ll be straightforward and get right to the point, whatever’s on your mind.

You step closer, close enough for him to feel your soft laugh on his lips as you give him a look that sends his pulse rocketing. You’ve never looked at him like this before.

Forget a list. He’s gonna write a whole book.

“Come on, whipped boy. Take me home.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #fic: whipped

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97linelover · 2 months

Text

From heartache to happiness- Kim mingyu

summary: taking care of Mingyus niece was a highlight for both of you, but realizing that in 4 years the two of you could not get pregnant made you tired.

Seeing him with the little munchkin made you happy but also devastated.

But what if it all will turn out alright?

content: Idol Mingyu x Non Idol reader, mentions of failed pregnancys, pregnancy,angst, happy end,fluff, mentions of endometriosis

wc: 2.6 k

a/n: I´m really sorry if you´re going through something like this... I just got the Diagnosis myself endometriosis.. How to handle something like that? I really don´t know.

“Danbi, don’t run! I’ve told you a thousand times!” Minseo’s voice echoed urgently through the corridor.

You watched her from the doorway, observing as she struggled to balance several bags of baby supplies. “Hectic day?” you asked with a playful giggle.

“Oh yes,” she replied, exhaling wearily as she gently patted her very prominent belly. “Baby Ahri isn’t making it any easier. She’s so active these days!”

“I can imagine,” you said, leaning down and speaking in a high-pitched, playful tone. “Her due date is in just two weeks, you know. We’re all eagerly waiting to meet you, Baby Ahri.”

Minseo nodded with a tired smile, then asked, “Is Mingyu still not home?”

You glanced towards the window where Sooyoon, who had been waiting by the car, waved at you. “No, he’s still at the studio,” you replied. “But he texted me that he’ll be home soon and that he can’t wait to see his niece.”

Minseo rolled her eyes with a smirk. “He’s totally smitten with her. Sometimes, I think he’s more excited than I am!”

“Well, who can blame him?” you said with a reassuring smile. “Every kid can be a handful, but as long as she’s sweet with us, we’ll manage.” You pulled her into a warm hug. “Thanks again for everything, Y/N.”

Minseo smiled gratefully. “Enjoy your time in Busan!” she called as she headed toward the car, her hands full of baby supplies.

As you closed the door behind her, you called out, “Danbiii! Where’s my sweet little bean?” Your eyes scanned the room until you spotted her small pink slippers peeking out from beneath the curtain.

This had become a cherished ritual between the two of you. Whenever Danbi visited, you’d play a little game of hide-and-seek.

“Mmm, my little bean is hiding so well,” you said, feigning frustration. You heard a faint beep from the direction of the curtain. “Oh, I’m getting closer,” you said, tiptoeing toward it.

With a dramatic flourish, you pulled the curtain aside and exclaimed, “Got you!” You lifted Danbi into the air, and her delighted squeal filled the room.

“You found me, Auntie Y/N!” she shouted joyfully, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck.

“I always find you, my sweet little bean,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to her head. “Are you hungry, Danbi?” you asked as she clung to you like a koala. “Shall we make some dinner for Uncle Gyu?”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Yes! Let’s cook for Uncle Gyuu!” she clapped her small hands together in delight.

“How about we make meatball pasta?” you suggested, knowing it was her absolute favorite.

“YESSS!!” she cheered. You carried her into the kitchen, where she eagerly grabbed her plastic cutlery. Together, you began preparing the meal, Danbi’s concentration evident as she helped with the ingredients.

As you danced around the kitchen to your favorite tunes, you heard the door open. “Oh Danbi, who is this?” you asked twirling her around in your arms.

“My Unclessss!” she said with a giggle, spinning in excitement. Just then, Mingyu walked in, his face lighting up as he saw Danbi.

“Uncle Gyuuu!” Danbi squealed, racing towards him.

Mingyu scooped her up in his arms, his face beaming with joy. “My princesssss,” he said affectionately, his eyes crinkling with happiness. You laughed softly and set the plates on the dining table.

“Mmm, that smells wonderful,” Mingyu said, his gaze appreciating the meal. He walked into the room, holding Danbi tightly. The little girl, who was clearly fascinated by him, snuggled into his embrace.

You watched them with a smile, thinking, “Same here, little one. Same here.”

“Did you two make this?” Mingyu asked, his eyes twinkling with pride. Danbi nodded enthusiastically.

“Hey, my love,” Mingyu said, carefully setting Danbi down and leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi, baby,” you replied, gently stroking his cheek. “How was work today?”

He sighed with a mix of exhaustion and relief. “It was a long day, but I’m glad to be home and have a few days off,” he said, looking over at Danbi. “Now, Dan Dan, how is my favorite girl doing?”

Danbi threw her arms around Mingyu’s neck. “Good—I missed you!” she said, her voice muffled as she clung to him.

Mingyu set her down gently, and you all took your places at the table. The three of you began to enjoy the meal, sharing laughter and stories as you savored the delicious pasta that Danbi had helped prepare.

After dinner, as the kitchen is tidied up, Mingyu and Danbi begin their bedtime routine. Danbi, now in her pajamas and holding her favorite teddy bear, snuggles up against Mingyu as he gently lifts her up.

“Time for your bedtime ritual, sweetheart,” Mingyu says lovingly, carrying her upstairs.

You follow them to the cozy, softly lit bedroom, decorated in gentle pastel colors. The room is lovingly arranged, with colorful pictures on the walls and a bed adorned with fluffy pillows and blankets.

Mingyu carefully sets Danbi down on her bed and sits beside her. “What story would you like to hear tonight?” he asks as Danbi settles into her blankets, her eyes already heavy with sleep.

“The story of the brave little animals!” Danbi replies with a sleepy smile.

Mingyu nods and retrieves a picture book from the shelf, which tells the adventures of the brave little animals. He begins reading aloud, his voice calm and soothing. He brings the characters to life with expressive tones and gentle inflections, weaving a tale that gradually eases Danbi into slumber. Her eyelids grow heavy as she listens to the story of the brave little animals and their adventures.

You watch from the doorway, feeling a mix of warmth and bittersweet emotion. The love and tenderness Mingyu shows Danbi are heartwarming, and you find yourself reflecting on your own dreams and challenges.

As Mingyu finishes the story and gently closes the book, he strokes Danbi’s hair and kisses her forehead. “Goodnight, my little adventurer,” he whispers. “Sweet dreams.”

Danbi murmurs a sleepy goodnight and drifts off, her teddy bear hugged tightly. Mingyu quietly stands up and walks over to where you are standing, a soft smile on his face.

“You know,” he begins, his voice low and sincere, “I just want to tell you how proud I am of you.”

You look up at him, surprised by his words. “Proud of me? Why?”

Mingyu takes your hand in his, his expression filled with warmth and affection. “For everything you do, for being so wonderful with Danbi and for always supporting me. I know things haven’t been easy, and I admire your strength and love. You bring so much joy into our lives.”

His words touch you deeply, and you feel a mix of emotions welling up inside you. “Thank you, Mingyu,” you say softly, your voice trembling slightly. “That means a lot to me.”

Mingyu gently squeezes your hand. “You’re an amazing person, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I just wanted you to know that.”

With a final, loving smile, Mingyu pulls you into a warm embrace. You hold onto him, finding comfort in his support and the shared moments of love and understanding. As you both stand there, the quiet of the night settles around you, filled with the promise of brighter days ahead.

The next morning, you wake up early, eager to start the day. You decide to make it special by preparing a delicious breakfast. The kitchen soon fills with the tempting aroma of pancakes as you whisk the batter and pour it into the hot pan.

Just as you’re cooking the first pancakes, you hear the soft patter of little feet behind you. Danbi, still a bit sleepy but excited, wanders into the kitchen, clutching her favorite teddy bear.

“Good morning, Auntie Y/N!” she calls out cheerfully, her eyes bright as she takes in the sight of the pancake batter.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you reply with a warm smile. “Would you like to help me make the pancakes?”

Danbi’s face lights up with enthusiasm. “Yes, please! I want to help!”

You hand her a small bowl with a bit of batter and a tiny spoon. “You can stir the batter here while I cook the pancakes. Just try not to make too much of a mess!”

Danbi nods eagerly, carefully stirring the batter with a look of intense concentration. Occasionally, she glances up at you for reassurance. A tiny splash of batter lands on the countertop, and Danbi giggles.

“Oh, Auntie Y/N, look! I’m almost as good as you!” she says proudly, her excitement evident.

You smile and nod. “You’re doing great, Danbi. These pancakes are going to be fantastic thanks to you!”

After breakfast, which turns out to be delicious thanks to Danbi’s help, you all get ready for a fun outing to the zoo. Danbi, now dressed in her favorite outfit—a colorful animal-themed T-shirt and jeans—bounces with excitement.

As you arrive at the zoo, Danbi is practically vibrating with joy. She points out every animal she sees, her face glowing with wonder. You and Mingyu follow closely, sharing her enthusiasm and marveling at the different animals with her.

When you reach the monkey enclosure, Danbi looks up at both of you, her eyes full of affection. “Auntie Y/N, Uncle Mingyu, I love you both so much!” she says, her voice filled with sincerity. “You’re the best aunt and uncle ever!”

Mingyu kneels down to her level, his eyes softening with emotion. “We love you too, Danbi. You’re the best niece anyone could ask for.”

You watch the interaction, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude. The simple, genuine moment of love between you all fills your heart with happiness.

The day continues with laughter and discovery as you explore the zoo together. You visit the giraffes, lions, and penguins, and enjoy ice cream cones as a treat. Danbi’s joy is infectious, and you all share many smiles and moments of connection.

As the sun starts to set, you head back home, tired but happy. You and Mingyu reflect on the day’s adventures and the special moments shared. When it’s time for Danbi to go to bed, you both help her get ready and tuck her in.

As Mingyu reads Danbi a bedtime story and gently closes the book, he leans in to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight, my little explorer. Sweet dreams.”

Danbi murmurs a sleepy goodnight and drifts off to sleep, hugging her teddy bear. You and Mingyu quietly leave the room, feeling happy with how the day went.

A day after the joyful day at the zoo, the time comes for Minseo to pick up Danbi. The farewell is heartfelt and filled with affection. Minseo gives Danbi a tight hug, and the little girl clings to her teddy bear.

“How was your day, sweetheart?” Minseo asks lovingly as she helps Danbi into the car.

“It was the best day ever!” Danbi replies with a beaming smile. “We had so much fun!”

Minseo smiles warmly and looks at you and Mingyu. “Thank you so much for taking care of Danbi and making her day so special. It means a lot to us.”

You hug Minseo. “It was our pleasure. Danbi is such a joy to be with. Safe travels, and we’ll see you soon!”

As Minseo drives away with Danbi, you and Mingyu watch them leave, feeling a mixture of contentment and nostalgia.

A few weeks later, you begin to feel unwell and decide to take a pregnancy test on your own, as Mingyu is away at work. With a mixture of hope and anxiety, you wait for the results. After what feels like an eternity, the test reveals a positive result.

Your heart races as you process the news—you're pregnant.

As you got the diagnosis endometriosis you were devastated, you wanted kids so badly, but your doctor said that this would be pretty hard.

And you were in for a long journey, besides the horrific pains you always endoured the dream of being a mother seemed far away.

Mingyu was your biggest support trough this time, he helped you with all the treatments.

Mingyu and you took every chance to have sex, for your luck the two of you were obsessed with each other. He knew your body well and knew which position worked without being in pain.

Determined to make this moment special, you begin preparing a surprise for Mingyu. You carefully plan an intimate evening at home. You decorate the living room with soft candles, fairy lights, and a “Welcome to the Family Baby Kim” sign. You also prepare a special dinner—his favorite dish.

When Mingyu arrives home that evening, he's immediately struck by the warm, inviting atmosphere. The candles flicker softly, and the table is set with care.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Mingyu says, looking around in wonder. “What’s the occasion?”

You smile, feeling a flutter of excitement and nerves. “I have a surprise for you. Please, sit down.”

As Mingyu takes his seat at the table, you bring out the dinner and sit across from him. After a few moments of enjoying the meal and making small talk, you finally take a deep breath and reach into your pocket. You pull out a small, neatly wrapped box and place it in front of him.

Mingyu looks at the box curiously and then at you. “What’s this?”

“Open it and find out,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

Mingyu carefully unwraps the box and opens it to find a tiny pair of baby shoes inside, along with a note that reads: “We’re going to be parents!”

His eyes widen in shock as he processes the message. A mixture of disbelief, joy, and emotion floods his face. He looks up at you, his eyes brimming with tears.

“You’re… you’re pregnant?” he asks, his voice choked with emotion.

You nod, tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks. “Yes, we are.”

Mingyu stands up and rushes over to you, enveloping you in a tight, loving embrace. His tears of joy fall freely as he holds you close. “I can’t believe it. I’m so happy. This is the best news ever.”

He twirled you around and you sobbed "when did you find out?" he asked looking at you "in the morning, I had this weird feeling in my tummy and I thought let´s do it" he kissed you softly.

"We´re gonna be parents" he whispered, his eyes red and full of tears "god I am so happy" he beamed with joy.

"I need to tell the boys, they need to know" he said grabbing his phone "we could tell them at the company dinner on Saturday" you suggested and he nodded excited "oh I cant wait to see their faces"

The two of you made your way towards the small Greek Restaurant hand in hand while Mingyu carried your bag.

He was dressed in a Dark Blue Dress shirt, combined with some Black slacks and some black dress shoes.

You wore a matching Dark Blue Satin dress with some heels.

"who do you think will be the most excited?" Mingyu asked "I think Wonwoo, but he wont show it too much, probably Seungkwan and Josh, they´re gonna cry, oh and Debby will cry, and then she will tell Wonwoo to show some emotion" you giggled at the thought.

As the group of over 20 people ate in peace the smell of the Moussaka suddenly went not to well with your stomach.

Your chair screeched along the floor as you rushed towards the toilet, you hated this.

After you were done Mingyu gave you the small toothbrush from your Bag for emergencies and you quickly brushed your teeth.

The two of you walked back to the table and Seungkwan looked at you with concern written all over his features.

"are you okay?" he whispered and you nodded "actually we wanted to tell you all some exciting news" you smiled and Debby gasped.

"we´re going to be parents" Mingyu and you said grinning.

and they all gasped "NO WAY" Joshua got up and Seungkwan directly began to cry "oh my god finally" all of them hugged you and you saw Wonwoo wiping some tears away.

"nonu" you said feeling the tears sting your eyes.

and he opened his arms "I´m so happy for the two of you, you fought so long for this" he kissed your head and you hugged him tight.

"actually Wonu, I wanted to ask you something" Mingyu said giving him a small box, Wonwoo took it with furrowed eyebrows. His slightly shaky hands pulled the lid off and he gasped looking at his best friend with wide eyes.

"no way" the tears in Wonwoos eyes were getting more and more "of course Gyu" he hugged him tight.

the little box asked him 'do you wanna be my godfather? - Baby Kim'

Wonwoo pulled you into the circle and you could not stop the tears.

"I´m so happy for the two of you, baby Kim will have the best parents" he said.

And he was right, you and Mingyu became a incredible duo.

#seventeen #kpop #svt #seventeen angst #au #mingyu #mingyu imagines #smut #gyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu x reader smut #mingyu x reader

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etherealyoungk · 6 months

Text

birthday boy - kim mingyu

pairing: mingyu x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fluff, kissing

wordcount: 1160

a/n: happy mingyu day <3

"are you ready? we should leave babe", you yell out to mingyu who's still getting ready and you grab your phone from the table outside. you open your email to figure out the reservation details but you let out a gasp when you see the email headline that awaits you.

"what happened?", mingyu asks, coming out, hearing you and he walks towards you, a small etch of worry on his face. you only smile, trying to brush it off, not wanting to upset the atmosphere right now. but there was no point. the email you just read said that your reservation was cancelled and now you both had gotten dressed up to go...nowhere. you had booked that place two weeks in advance just for mingyu's birthday today and the fact that they cancelled it without any reason made you upset.

"what's wrong?", he prompts again, seeing the troubled look on your face.

"i-um", you start as you look at mingyu and sigh because there was really no point in denying it.

"the restaurant cancelled our reservation", you tell softly, feeling defeated. "i'm so sorry i should have planned this better, it's your special day and -",

"woah woah, sweetheart, look at me", he says making you meet his gaze. "it's okay we can do something else", he assures, giving you a small smile.

"but you were looking forward to this place", you add, frowning.

"how about we stay in? have some wine, cut the cake, just us?", he suggests. "are you sure? we can go somewhere else maybe, we're already dressed up", you add but he shakes his head. just then your doorbell rings and mingyu moves to open it but you stop him, putting your hand on his chest.

"i'll get it", you tell, shooeing mingyu away because it was a special delivery for him and you wanted to keep it that way. you had ordered flowers from mingyu, the bouquet was gorgeous, with fresh red roses with baby's breath in between all wrapped up in brown paper and a small note tucked inside. you smiled softly as you took the bouquet and peeked inside, hiding it behind your back as you saw mingyu putting out the cake and getting out the wine.

"gyu close your eyes", you told. "why?", he asks, playfully.

"just do it please", you add and he closes his eyes, a smile already playing on his lips. you make sure his eyes are indeed closed before you come forward and you bring the bouquet out front, holding it out for mingyu as you tell him to open his eyes.

he opens his eyes and he grins, his pretty canines showing and you smile too. "happy birthday gyu", you say as he takes the flowers from you like an excited puppy.

"for me?", he asks. "no they're for my boyfriend mingyu, give them back", you tell and he chuckles. "this is the first time someone's given me flowers", he confesses and you make a mental note to surprise mingyu with flowers more often.

he smells the flowers and his eyes find the note that's tucked inside and almost hidden in the flowers and his eyes sparkle. he picks out the note and you mentally cringe when you remember what you wrote. mingyu puts the bouquet aside, opens the note and he smiles like an idiot when he reads it. you know he's going to tease you about it, so you usher him to the cake that's waiting on the table, hoping he'll spare you.

you place the candles on the cake mingyu takes the initiative to light them and you find the princess crown you had found a few days back, thinking it would look cute on mingyu. "babeee", he draws out when he sees it, knowing exactly what you had in mind but you just chuckle as you put the crown on him and he lets you because he loves to indulge you like that.

you put your arms on your hips and admire mingyu. "you look so adorable", you say and he nods his head. "well, thank you for blessing me with princesshood on my birthday", he jokes and you smile, moving closer to mingyu when you notice the candles melting.

"make a wish gyu!", you tell and he sincerely closes his eyes, makes a wish and blows out the candles. his eyes are still closed so you take this chance to swipe some icing from the cake on his nose and cheek. he opens his eyes, his mouth opening in shock before he narrows his eyes at you and you run around the table because you know he's going to get you back.

he's quick to run after you and after a few strides from his long legs, he's caught you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you against his body as he corners you into the wall and you can only let out a soft giggle.

he leans forward and boops your nose with his and now you have icing on your nose too and he seems satisfed. "now we're even", he tells with a playful smile and you can only smile back up at him, your arms resting on his shoulders as his hands caress your waist.

"have i told you how gorgeous you look tonight", he says with a glint in his eyes and you smile, feeling your cheeks heat up at his compliment. he always made you feel like the prettiest person in the world and loved complimenting you, knowing you'd get shy about it. you clear your throat before speaking.

"have i told you how dashing and handsome you look tonight?", you tell, looking him up and down again because he was wearing that gorgeous all-black suit that he pulled off so well, making him look amazing (and hot). mingyu chuckles at your words and smiles wider, the sound of his laughter like music to your ears and he looks at you with pure adoration.

"is this the part where i finally get my birthday kiss?", he asks after a few seconds with a twinkle in his eyes.

"you're acting like i didn't kiss you today", you tell, tilting your head.

"but that was just a kiss, not a birthday kiss and you only kissed me once today which didn't even last five seconds". he explains, making you roll your eyes at his words and give him a look.

"i'm still waiting", he prompts, raising his brow with a tilt of his head, grinning that stupid smile that makes you melt every time you see it.

you lean forward and close the gap between you both, kissing mingyu and he pulls you closer against him as he softly moves his lips against yours, kissing you back.

"happy birthday", you whisper against his lips when you pull away.

"i'm really sorry about the reservation being cancelled though", you add because you did feel bad after having planned it and it fell through last minute.

"shhh, this is perfect too", he assures, kissing you again.

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @kyeomyun @lvlystars @blue-jisungs @wootify @ihrtboo @idubiluv @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852 @mirxzii @wheeboo @writingmeraki

#happy mingyu day <3 #skye's writing!#k-labels #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt drabbles #svt x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu drabbles

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euphor1a · 10 months

Text

Just the tip

* part of “boyfriend chronicles” — can be read as a stand-alone.

ꨄ pairing: mingyu x f!oc

ꨄ genres: non idol!au, established relationship, fluff, smut, slice of life.

ꨄ summary: he tried his best, he really did. but lord, for how long could he control himself when you looked like a pretty, little angel, all his to ruin?

ꨄ rating & word count: 18+ ; ~9.5K

ꨄ warnings/tags: fluff (called me single in 100 languages typa way), plentiful pda, they’re so in love that it repulses me /j, profanity, explicit sexual content; dom/sub undertones (a bit of switch action as well), semi-public sex, breast play, biting/marking, size kink, praising, pet names, fingering, teasing, dacryphilia, begging, “just the tip”, unprotected, penetrative sex, big d*ck!gyu, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), creampie — this is a work of fiction and it doesn’t represent mingyu in any way.

ꨄ a/n: this series is slowly starting to look like my villain origin story 😔... like wdym i can’t have kim mingyu 💔💔? *sigh* anyway, it’s been a while, enjoy <3!

His footsteps are light despite him being in a hurry. It’s almost as if he could start flying at any moment. Mingyu wishes that was an option. The sunlight filtering through his living room windows barely makes it to the kitchen, where he’s struggling miserably.

Large, shaky hands grip onto the petite looking sliders he has just finished making, carefully placing them inside the various colorful lunch boxes splayed out on the kitchen island. Mingyu is heaving ever so slightly, a bit of perspiration starting to collect on his forehead. He’s nervous. And it’s silly, he knows. But he can’t help his rushing heart that is hammering against his chest.

It’s been over ten minutes since you texted him that you’re on your way to the park you two are going to meet up for your date. And he’s still here, in his pj’s, trying to finish packing the picnic basket as quickly as possible without absolutely destroying it. Even though Mingyu woke up criminally early with the intentions to cook everything himself, he somehow managed to fall behind because of the stupid cupcake batter that refused to make anything edible out of itself.

With what feels like the umpteenth sigh of the day, he manages to complete arranging the boxes inside the basket. However, he almost slips while hurrying to reach his bedroom. A string of curses leave Mingyu’s pouty lips, the muscles in his arms flexing to support his whole body against the wall. He still needs to get ready, leave his house, and buy some sort of dessert from the local bakery before finally meeting you.

Thanking himself for picking up and ironing the outfit yesterday night, he dresses up in a flash. Mingyu ponders if he should do something with his hair, but ends up keeping it the way it currently is. Sure, it is kind of messy, but it also gives him that ‘casually sexy’ look. A satisfied smirk and the bare minimum skincare along with sunscreen later, he regards himself in the mirror for one last time. Looking more than good to go.

That state of peace only lasts for a moment though. Not wanting to be even more late than he already is, Mingyu grabs his phone, wallet, keys and the basket. After another minute of scrambling, he puts on a random pair of loafers and heads out. Even though you haven’t contacted him since earlier, he feels anxious. Who knows for how long you’ve been waiting all alone?

His long legs help him blaze past the bustling neighborhood, hands clutching on the basket’s handle in an attempt to stop it from swaying unsteadily. Mingyu is so wrapped up in his thoughts of you that he actually walks past the bakery — before realizing and taking a 180° turn. The elderly owner smiles at him brightly as he enters the cozy shop, somehow catching up on what exactly is happening with the usually calm and collected guy he has seen for so long. “Aah, Mingyu! Welcome, my boy! Long time no see, eh? What brought you here all of a sudden? Mayhaps a special day with a special someone?”

“Hi, Mr. Owen! Hah, really though… I don’t remember the last time I found myself having a little dessert. Glad to be back here! Although, I’m just gonna pretend that I didn’t hear the last part…” Mingyu trails off, eyes taking in the pretty pastries and all sorts of baked goodness displayed in front of him. His heart jumps a little when he thinks about how your face contorts in pure joy whenever you ravish the sugar rush from something sweet. “Uh anyway! Please pack me a dozen of these pastel colored macarons! And maybe four of those glazed donuts? Oh my god… are those heart shaped pies?? Looks so cute! Please pack two of them too!”

The man nearing his late 60s can’t help but laugh at Mingyu’s excited rambling as he points at the things he wants. “Calm down, calm down, I’ll get to everything one by one.” He folds up some new boxes before putting the delicate confectioneries into them. “You really don’t have to say anything though, the answers are written all over your face.”

Mingyu, who was busy admiring the heart shaped pies, looks up, confused. “Huh?”

“The question I asked earlier. Which you pretended to not hear. The answer to it is written all over your face.” Owen shakes his head with a smile on his face.

“Oh–” Mingyu looks down at his feet. Is he really that obvious? But even if he is, should he care about it? Feeling happy and elevated to meet his girlfriend doesn’t always need to be embarrassing.

“Don’t mind my little teasing now, will you? Do you want me to put these in your basket?” He’s brought back to reality by Owen’s voice. Mingyu nods and brings the picnic basket up on the counter.

While the old man adds up the prices to write a bill after carefully putting all the desserts in the almost full basket, Mingyu finds himself zoning out. Would you like all the things he’s bringing? What if you have some secret allergy he doesn’t know yet, and you’re unable to eat? A pout forms on his lips. But then he remembers — he’s been pretty late by now, and you’re waiting for him in a place you’re not familiar with at all.

He hurriedly pays and grabs his basket, apologizing to Owen for not being able to hang around longer and leaving immediately. Once he’s outside again, he quickly takes his phone and calls your number. Mingyu almost feels jittery, scenarios going through his head that aren’t exactly nice. Thankfully for him, you pick up after a few rings, greeting him cheerily.

“Mingyu! Hello baby! I’m here already, are you on your way?”

That alone is enough for the six feet tall, grown ass man to wish he could disintegrate into thin air right now. Not in a negative way, though. He just finds it extremely devastating that you called him “baby” like that. But Mingyu is quick to recover from that feeling. “Hi angel, I’m on my way!! I’m sorry you have to wait there all alone… I’m like a three minute walk away from the park. Do you, maybe, wanna keep talking over the phone?”

“Aw sure! And don’t worry about it please, I’m just standing beneath a large tree and enjoying the scenery! It’s so pretty here!”

Three minutes feel like thirty seconds with you, as he already gets through the park’s elegant looking entrance. His eyes immediately start searching for you. “Baby, I just got through the main gate! Where are you?”

“Oh! That was quick, Gyu; should I come over to the entrance?”

“Nono princess! Stay where you are, I’ll be there. Just give me some directions!” Mingyu insists. To his surprise, you don’t give up for your cause.

“Why?” Your voice is nearly a whine, “It’ll be way easier if I just go where you are!”

With his heart doubling in his chest from fondness, he sighs, “Fine… I guess. Come over quickly then, will you?”

“Yep yep, already on my way! I can’t wait to see you!” You giggle excitedly, keeping your eyes on the path as you wander back towards the main gate. Mingyu waits by the side of a decorative statue for you. His gaze is searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person he’s grown to adore endlessly.

It’s only a matter of seconds for you to spot each-other, two pairs of eyes lighting up with joy. You run to him giddily, colliding into his firm chest that you’ve fallen asleep on several times now. His large arms wrap around your small frame to pull you closer, as if on instinct.

You inhale his scent deeply, a mix of his cologne and the smell of fresh laundry from his black polo shirt. However, you do avoid getting your face smushed up against him— for the sake of your skincare and makeup. Both of you stay locked in each other’s embrace for a while, before eventually pulling away.

“You look so unbelievably pretty, my love.” Mingyu leans down to place a kiss on your head. “And smelling like a dream, as well.” Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you fiddle with the belt loops of his beige trouser.

Only now, you’ve become aware of exactly how fucking good he looks today. This black polo fits him like a glove, paired with trousers that accentuate his long legs. Oh and, he also has a pair of eyeglasses that adorns his handsome face. The whole imagery is pretty devastating to your brain as it fails to process everything your eyes have registered. Why is it even legal to look like this?

You suddenly feel majorly weak in the knees, but Mingyu supports you with his unoccupied hand, flashing you a cocky grin. “What happened, baby?” He teases, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. You hold onto his arms and regain composure, clearing your throat from embarrassment.

“Uhm, you look… really really great as well.” His eyes twinkle as he smiles upon your compliment, the hand around your waist pressing you into him. Your heart flutters in your chest from the close exposure. Mingyu seems a bit more touchy-touchy than usual, considering that you guys are in public.

“All for you, my angel,” your boyfriend mutters right against your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As if that wasn’t satisfactory enough, he lets his lips brush over the shell of your ear, catching you even more off-guard. What the hell is in the air today?

“Uhm– let’s go find a spot for our date? Or are we gonna just stand here?” You look up at Mingyu questioningly, doe eyes causing his heart to skip a beat. He sighs, just slightly annoyed with how his mind goes to unspeakable places with just that.

“Of course, baby, let’s find a place to sit down.” He smiles brightly, watching you wrap your smaller arm around his. To his dismay, his hungry eyes once again take in how pretty and irresistible you look in this flowy, white sundress.

The soft material caresses your thighs with each stride; Mingyu wishes it was his hand instead. It’s absurd, but the way this dress has pretty flowers and hearts printed across it makes him wanna mark you up. The poofy sleeves, the sweetheart neckline that shows just enough to drive him crazy — God. Even the way your hair is loosely braided with stray locks tucked behind your ear? He genuinely wants to cancel all plans and take you to his home and do you all day.

It’s crazy, really. How can you just look like that and expect anyone to act like a normal functioning human? Mingyu shakes his head a little and inhales shakily. You deserve to get pampered on a picnic date as much as you deserve to get mind-blowing orgasms.

“You’re not paying attention to me at all…” The sound of your dejected voice breaks him out of his reverie. Shit.

“No, no! Baby, please, I’m sorry… Uh, to be painfully honest with you, I’m distracted because you look so exceptionally pretty, like an angel who’s descended on Earth. But still, I’m really sorry for not listening to what you have to say. I promise I’ll focus from now on!!” He laces your fingers together and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re such a flatterer, Kim Mingyu.” You try to hide your smile, sounding a bit angry to tease him. Your beloved boyfriend hates it when you call him by his full birth name; and this time is no different. However, to your surprise, instead of throwing a tantrum like he usually does, Mingyu leads you to the side of the path.

“Wha—” you start, but close your mouth out of shock when he covers your frame entirely and leans down to press a sweet kiss on your lips. Your hands press against his toned stomach for support, your head emptying entirely. His lips are so soft against yours, the heat radiating from his body warming you up a bit too much.

You pull away first, your whole face heated from his sudden action. As you take deep breaths to compensate for the air you lost during the kiss, Mingyu finally speaks up. “Don’t be mad at me today, my love. Please. I’m gonna be so, so sad. I promise I’ll do better but god, please don’t be upset.” His lips have formed his signature pout, your heart melting at the spot.

You let your thumb caress over his pout, tip-toeing to peck him. Mingyu’s lips stretch into a smile, his unoccupied hand curling around your waist. “You’re so cute, how can I be mad at you?” You giggle, absolutely adored by this soft giant begging you to not be upset.

“If I am cute, then what are you, princess?” Mingyu grins, nuzzling your hand before you move it away. You shake your head, not willing to debate on who’s the cutest.

“Anyway, we should really find a place to sit down and get our picnic started. I was just saying that there aren’t a lot of people in the park right now, but we should still find a place with enough privacy.”

The way Mingyu nods is like a puppy tilting its head. God, the way you’d commit arson for this guy. With a soft sigh, you continue. “And, I also have my own basket, which I left at an empty space I found by where I was standing. Let’s go there first, then we can move further into the park where not a lot of people will potentially find or bother us.”

It takes you guys a few minutes to go and fetch your own basket, and probably another ten to fifteen minutes to find a spot for your picnic date. Mingyu is extremely happy with the grassy little patch surrounded by tall bushes and large trees, a big smile on his face as he takes out the picnic blanket he brought along. He can’t wait to show you all the food he made.

Once he’s done setting the blanket, you take off your pastel pink mary janes and settle down on the blanket with your picnic basket nearby. Mingyu looks at you, a bit surprised. “You’re taking off your shoes?” The question makes you narrow your eyes.

“And why wouldn’t I be taking off my shoes? To make this brand new blanket dirty?” His mouth forms an ‘O’ shape, before he nods. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. “You can keep your shoes on, if you want. There’s no need to stink up this place.”

“HEY! I’m not that unhygienic, that last time I just forgot about laundry for some reason. I already told you… And I’m not wearing any socks today…” Mingyu trails off, discarding his loafers with a ‘hmph’.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Stop sulking, Gyu.” You watch him as he sits down as well, adjusting his trousers a bit to be more comfortable in this position. He overlooks you for now, reaching for his basket and carefully taking out the desserts first. Then, he produces a bunch of different tupperwares out of it, placing all the food in the center of the mat, between you two.

You reach for your own basket as well, cautiously eyeing your boyfriend who seems to be extremely invested in unpacking all the food. The only things you’ve brought along today for the picnic date are flowers, a flower vase, a small canvas and some tubes of watercolor, besides your necessary belongings. Although it’s kinda embarrassing, it can’t be helped because Mingyu insisted on bringing everything for the date.

“Gyu,” you murmur, hands anxiously gathering the loosely made bouquet inside your basket. It’s oddly nerve-wracking. You’ve never really received or given flowers in a relationship before.

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up, eyes furrowed as he rummages through his basket. With a sharp inhale, you slowly retrieve the flowers, extending them towards him. Mingyu immediately turns to look at your shaky hands holding a bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs, his face heating up as he realizes what’s going on.

“____, my baby,” he coos, bringing his hands to wrap around your trembling ones. “It looks so pretty, did you bring them for me?” You avoid eye-contact, but nod to give him confirmation. The wave of weird emotions that hits Mingyu is hard for him to explain. Usually, he’s been the one giving flowers to his partners in relationships. But, being on the receiving end for the first time, he feels as if he’s on top of the world.

“C’mere.” He leans in to grab your waist, bringing you closer to him, before hoisting you up a little to place you on his lap. Mingyu fixes your dress, then pulls you closer to rest against his chest. His left hand remains wrapped up around your midsection. “Thank you so much, love. I’m over the moon that you got me flowers. I’m so lucky to be dating you, angel.” He presses a kiss on your cheek, your heart almost bursting inside your chest.

“Do you know Victorian floriography?” you look at him, slightly embarrassed. When he shakes his head as ‘no’, you go on, “It’s the language of flowers. Back then, gifted flowers used to have hidden meanings… But it’s kinda coming back in trend, I guess.”

“Oh,” Mingyu ponders, “Then, does this bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs have a secret message as well?” You nod, looking up at him with a shy smile.

“Find it out later, okay? For now, please explain what you’ve brought along in so many boxes…?” Trying to change the topic, you take away the flowers to put them inside the vase you brought along, settling it in an empty space between all the packed boxes of desserts.

He chuckles nervously, suddenly remembering all the food he brought. “Uh… right. I might’ve gone a bit overboard with it, but I promise, sixty percent of everything you see is made by me, with so much love.”

“Whoa!” you exclaim. “That’s a lot of things you made with your own hands… I’m honored.” Mingyu presses a kiss on the side of your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. Goosebumps spread across your skin, and you stop yourself from making any noises. It’s… weird that he’s being so intimate while you are pretty much in public. But god, does it do things to you…

“You haven’t tasted anything yet, though. Heck, let me show you what’s inside first.” He reaches for the closest tupperware, and to your surprise, you see various, colorful fruits, all cut up in small heart shapes and laid out in rows.

“Omg, so cute!!” you squeal, clapping your hands together in excitement. Mingyu beams at you, clearly happy with your reaction.

“Hehe, there’s a lot more to see!” He stretches to grab two more boxes, each revealing tteok-bokki, your mouth inevitably watering from the sight. You’ve had these delicious rice cakes made by him a few times prior, and you loved it to bits.

He leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Should I take out the chopsticks?” Mingyu closes the box with fruits in it, moving it to the side. “Let’s go from spicy to sweet, hm? I also made tiny sliders because you seem to like miniature food a lot! After these, we can have the desserts!”

You nod in agreement, snuggling up to him more. Receiving treatment like this makes you feel like a princess. Even though you’re not sure how much he has brought along, you internally make up your mind to at least taste everything and applaud the effort he put into it.

Once you guys are done eating everything he had prepared himself, you urge Mingyu to take a break and save the desserts for the very end. He agrees, not willing for the date to end anytime soon.

“I brought along something else as well… if you let me go for a bit, I can take my basket and you can hold me again.” You say after a while of chatting about this and that. Your boyfriend eyes you curiously, loosening his arms around your waist momentarily. That is enough for you to grab your basket and settle down on his lap again.

“What did you bring? I’m so curious! Wait— tubes of paint?!” To add more to his surprise, you take out the small canvas, a literal gasp escaping Mingyu. “What can we possibly do with these? I don’t see any brushes…”

“It’s so surprising to me that you’re always on Instagram, yet you have no clue about this.” You tease, placing the canvas in a position where both of you can access it very comfortably. He raises an eyebrow at your comment, feeling very attacked. But he refrains from saying anything.

“Let’s just start doing it, okay? It’ll make sense immediately because it’s nothing complicated.” You sigh, taking Mingyu’s palm in yours. He looks confused as you take the red watercolor tube first, getting rid of the cap and squeezing out a generous amount on the top of pinky finger.

“Oh…” He lets you take his hand and bring it to the center of the tiny canvas, pressing the paint covered finger carefully against the paper. “But what’s that supposed to do? It just looks like a blob of paint…” Mingyu looks at you questioningly as you retreat his pinky from the canvas.

“Oh hush, don’t be so impatient!” You scold him jokingly, pointing towards a bunch of tissues. “Clean up your finger now! You’ll find out soon enough.” He puffs out his lower lip, reaching for a tissue while grumbling.

You take the tube of blue watercolor and cover your whole thumb with a thick layer of paint. Mingyu watches you curiously while you press on your thumb in the opposite direction of his ‘blob of paint’, trying to get the sizes as close as possible. “That is so fucking adorable?!” Your boyfriend erupts in cute aggression when you lift up your thumb, revealing a heart made with your fingerprints.

“It’s so cute, you’re so cute, fuck, I–” He stops himself before any inevitable words roll off his tongue. Mingyu is well aware that you prefer to take things slow, and he wants to make sure that you can process everything at your own pace. His thoughts are interrupted by your giggles.

He tightens his hands right beneath your chest, pushing you close to nuzzle the crook of your neck. “Is it that funny? So fun to watch me lose my shit because of how fucking adorable you are, hm?”

“It’s not like that…” you murmur, goosebumps all over your body. “I just thought that it’s kinda amusing how you were all clueless and nagging about it earlier, then suddenly, you were screaming about how cute this is.” It’s hard for you to not make any sounds when he’s caressing your sensitive areas, but you attempt to keep your voice low and steady.

Mingyu wishes he could explain how much that tiny heart shaped painting actually means to him. It’s almost like all your heart is into those two blobs of red and blue paint, looking back at him, telling him secrets you’ve never shared with him before. He feels all warm and fluffy inside, his senses all wrapped around your nuances. “Can I keep that for myself?”

“Of course!” You smile brightly at him, extremely giddy that he wants to keep this small token of your feelings for him which will last way longer than the flowers. “Let the paint dry first, though.”

“Sure, baby.” He squeezes you in his arms. “Can we have the desserts now? I know it doesn’t look like it, but there are plenty of them.” Mingyu whines, feeling sort of desperate to show you everything he bought earlier. Thankfully for him, you nod, perking up at the mention of many desserts.

He reaches for the box with pies first, knowing very well you’ll absolutely adore them. And you do, blessing his ears with one of those cute squeals of yours, eyes sparkling at the sight in front of you. “OMG!! So pretty! And it looks delicious!”

“Mhm, I had a feeling you’d love to have these. Let’s dig in!” Mingyu takes out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, squirting out some of it on both of your hands. These pies are very conveniently palm-sized. With its crust shaped like a heart, ruby red filling made out of cherries — it sure does make you feel hungry just by looking at it.

“C’mon, take a bite,” your boyfriend muffles out, mouth already full of the big bite he has just taken. You nod gingerly, taking a shy bite of the pie as well. The buttery, flaky crust, paired up with a bit of the sweet cherries melt in your mouth, a satisfied sound rumbling in your throat.

“Mm, it’s really good!” The smile on your face is like a whole trophy to Mingyu. You liked it. He’s so glad that he can’t really explain.

“Yay!!! I got you donuts and macaroons as well!” He blurts out, all giddy looking at you savoring the sweet dessert. Once you’re done with the pie, he reaches for the boxes of both donuts and macarons, earning a small whine from you.

“I can’t eat that much… I’m almost full.”

“Why? You only ate a little…” A frown forms on your boyfriend’s lips.

“Gyu. I had a ton of tteok-bokki. Then sliders. Then fruits. On the dessert side, I already had a pie. I’m really, really, sorry, but that looks like a lot of macarons and donuts. My stomach will either burst or I’ll just throw up at the end of this!” You try your best to make your point stand, pleading with your eyes for him to understand.

Mingyu heaves out a sigh. “Fineee. You’re gonna take the macarons back home with you, then. I bought these especially for you. And I’m not listening to any complaints about that.”

“Gyu, that kinda makes me feel bad though… you basically did everything for this date.”

“Baby, I did everything voluntarily because I wanted to treat you like this. Like you deserve to be treated. And c’mon now! You brought flowers for me, and came up with a fun little activity to do. What about all the dates we’ve had before that were totally planned by you? So pretty please, with a cherry on top, don’t turn me down?”

You turn in his lap to face him, blinking back the silly tears that clouded your vision. He hums in approval as you wind your arms around his neck and pull him in for a sweet kiss. Although, you pull back soon enough, resting your foreheads together instead. “You mean so much to me,” you mutter, eyes locking with him.

A strange warmth spreads throughout Mingyu, radiating inside-out and filling up his heart. He doesn’t really know what to say back — simply because he’s over aware of the fact that he is completely and utterly in love with you. But he doesn’t want to hurry, he wants to move with you, as you slowly open up your petals to him, like a flower does to a sun.

“I wish there were words in my vocabulary capable of explaining how much you mean to me.” He smiles softly, pressing a butterfly kiss to the corner of your lips. Mingyu absolutely adores the sound of your giggle that drifts to his ears.

“You’re so cheesy, I kinda like it.”

“Just 'kinda'?” He can’t help his own chuckle. “And here I thought I was getting a lot of charm points for being cheesy.”

“You can be cheesy all you want, baby. I think most of your charm points come from your physical features at a first glance.” You boop his nose, both of you bursting out in laughter.

“Are you saying that I’m handsome?”

“Mhm. Very handsome, in fact. Very tall as well. Very… very big too.” You can see the playful glint vanishing from his eyes. Mingyu inhales a shaky breath.

“Let’s get to those donuts now. Please?”

You nod, moving around to get back on your previous position. He bites back a groan as your hands feel around, squeeze and grab on his thighs before you settle down. “What donuts did you bring?”

“Glazed donuts, cause you really liked them the last time!” He wraps an arm around your waist, adjusting you to be closer to him. Mingyu is well aware that he’s barely holding up. But, he’s trying to convince himself that being closer to you can get him through his… hard times.

“Whoa omg these look so good?!” His inner monologue is interrupted by your squeal. A small smile curls up his lips.

“Right? Dig in, baby!” He encourages, leaning forward to take a donut for himself. You follow suit, excited to bite into the sugary heaven.

The sweet dough crumbles in your mouth upon the first bite, the sugar glaze hitting your taste buds just right. As you savor the pleasant taste of it, a satisfied hum rumbles in your throat. “Gyu, this tastes heavenly. Way better than the last time we had it! And I loved the ones we got back then?!”

“I’m so glad, my angel. I’ll get you more the next time we meet up~” Your boyfriend nuzzles your hair affectionately, his heart doubling in his chest from adoration. It’s hard to explain how great he feels simply by seeing you happy, enjoying your food. Maybe, it’s because Mingyu himself loves to eat heartily and cook for his people; he hopes that he can see you like this forever.

It would be so nice, he would cook for you everyday and help you out whenever you felt like cooking, and dine-out and order in as your heart desires.

You’re almost done with your second donut by now, but Mingyu hasn’t said anything or even touched his portion after saying that he’d bring you more. Kind of worried, you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes transfixed on you.

“... Hello? Why’d you go silent? Is something in my hair or—” you stop halfway when you notice his gaze has shifted to your lips now. It makes you swallow nervously, anticipation building up in your system. You know that look all too well.

“There’s something on your lips.” His voice is nonchalant, relaxing your senses a bit. You nod, attempting to wipe off the crumbs with your hand, but he catches your wrist, leaning in swiftly to wrap your lower lip between his.

Goosebumps spread all over your body, hands automatically winding around his neck as he suckles on the delicate flesh of your lips. His free hand rests against the small of your back, urging you to turn towards him fully.

You really don’t understand how he can kiss you this good when you are yet to open up to his tongue. Your body has already started to heat up, breathing uneven. With shaky hands, you clumsily take off his glasses, his lips curling up in a smile against yours.

Soon enough, he coaxes your mouth open, his hand letting go of your wrist and cupping your jaw instead. You both moan simultaneously, crazed by the sweet aftertaste of the desserts. Mingyu is extremely eager, taking the lead as always, your body starting to quake from the mind numbing kiss.

Picking up on your struggle to breathe, he pulls away just enough to whisper against your lips. “You have to keep breathing through your nose, baby. You can’t just forget to breathe, even if I’m kissing you so good for so long that your mind goes blank.”

You flush at the mention of your usual complaint against him whenever he has to give you space to breathe during a make-out. “I… I try, I swear, but it’s…” you trail off between huffs, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Aw, am I giving my princess a hard time?” Mingyu pats your head, nudging you to get back up. You nod, a small chuckle escaping him. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he leans in for a brief peck. “And so pretty, looking like a fairy today.”

He returns to the kiss with full passion, tongue immediately entangling with yours, a low groan escaping him. You taste so maddeningly sweet, like an endless source of honey to his bee. He suckles on your tongue, his teeth nibbling on your lips, reducing you to an absolute mess. You are, quite literally, shaking, arousal dripping down your core and ruining the pretty lace thong you wore for today’s date.

“Aah–” you gasp as he trails down to press wet, sloppy kisses down your neck, hands pulling at the sleeves of your dress. You don’t stop him, threading your fingers through the luscious locks of his wavy hair. Mingyu has nearly forgotten that you guys are technically in public, and has made you do the same. He drags your bra strap off your shoulder using his teeth, biting and sucking on the newly exposed skin.

One of his hands is wrapped around your waist to secure you, his other hand slipping beneath the skirt of your dress, stroking your thighs. Only now, you suddenly remember that you’re on a picnic date in a somewhat secluded part of a very public park. “Mm–mingyu– don’t—” you struggle with your words, overwhelmed by his ministrations. He’s everywhere — touching, squeezing, licking, kissing and biting. “Stop, please.” You whimper, his actions halting immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Mingyu lifts his head to assess your situation, looking dazed himself, his voice hoarse. You swallow nervously, your own eyes glazed with tears that had appeared because he made you feel a bit too good.

“We… we’re in public,” You state firmly. “We can get caught in a very indecent state if we keep going.”

Mingyu takes a look around the surroundings. Tall bushes and plenty of large trees cover this small patch of area entirely. He knew exactly what he was doing when he chose this spot. One would have to wander off very far into the park and physically push off bushes to get in here like you guys did. Which, to him, seems extremely unlikely.

“I wouldn’t call this public, my love.” He takes both of your hands to entwine your fingers. “And I highly doubt someone would come this far and specifically peek around the bushes to catch us. You do remember how long it took us to get here, no?”

“Yeah… but, what if—”

“There are no ‘what if’s, my angel. Even if someone did come this far into the park, they’d still have to manhandle the bushes to be able to see what’s on the other side. Please, trust me…”

His broken look stirs something in you, and you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “I do trust you. And I want you as much as you want me,” you whisper shyly, your thong uncomfortably damp and sticking to your skin. “But, wouldn’t it be better if we go home quickly, and um, finish what we started…?”

Mingyu sighs, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you as close as possible. “I don’t think I can hang on for that long, baby. I need you so fucking bad. I’ve been struggling to keep myself together for an embarrassingly long time now. You– You just look so goddamn pretty. Like a tiny little fairy who is all mine to ruin. Fuck, just… just see what you’ve done to me.” He takes one of your hands and guides it to his crotch, blood rushing to your face.

“If you want me just as much as I do, you must be soaking wet, right?” His whisper is hot against your neck, right hand holding your own to his growing bulge while his left hand slips between your thighs. You gasp when he rubs his fingers against your ruined underwear, a satisfied grunt reverberating in his throat. “Fuck.” Mingyu curses under his breath, his hips bucking up to your joined hands.

“You really want us to go home in this state? Hm?” His voice is a whine, only adding more to your devastation. To be really honest, all logical reasoning left your system the moment he made you feel his hard-on. And then he had to feel your drenched thong in return as well, arousing you to the extent where you don’t really give a fuck about being in the open anymore.

“Hngh, fine— do it quickly.” You whimper, every inch of you begging for his touch, to be relieved. Mingyu smiles, ecstatic upon your words, hungry lips finding yours for a kiss. You moan at the contact, pussy clenching around nothing.

“As my princess wishes.” He hums, pulling down your dress to reveal your bra. His pupils dilate at the sight in front of him. Even when he dragged down the straps of your bra with his teeth, he didn’t think you’d be wearing a rather provocative lacey piece today. “Fuck,” Mingyu bunches up your dress around your waist, a groan escaping him.

Is this another fantasy of his? Cause no, fuck, you sure do look like it.

The delicate lace work barely covers anything, his cock throbbing inside the confines of his boxer-briefs. He feels like he’s high. “Baby,” your boyfriend rasps, “do you even understand what you do to me? Hm?”

“You like it?” your voice is a whisper, fingers digging into his shoulder from nervousness. A part of you knows the answer already, but still, hearing it out loud from him always makes you feel butterflies.

“You’re really asking me that? Fuck, I love it, you’re so fucking pretty, I can’t believe that you’re real, and mine.” Mingyu groans, one of his hands reaching for your bra and pulling at its cups. His mouth immediately attaches to your left breast as soon as it is released. You gasp, body quivering at the touch. He bites and suckles on the soft flesh teasingly before reaching for your hardened nipple.

You whimper out his name, fingers gripping on his hair. The way his tongue swirls around and suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves makes you dizzy. More arousal leaks out of your core, desperation cresting higher and higher. You need him in you, right now.

But Mingyu is lost in your breasts, reaching for your right one after a while, teeth dragging over the nipple before his tongue slurps at it. You quiver and whine in his arms from all the sensations you’re feeling. He knows exactly what to do to make you feel good, and he never slacks off at that.

“You’re so perfect, my little angel.” Mingyu hums, his right hand groping your left boob. “Fits so perfectly in my hand, so cute,” he murmurs before looking up at you. As he meets your tearful eyes, he loses a bit more of his sanity.

“Damn it, you look so—” he stops short, breathing heavily. Will he ever get used to the way you look during intimacy? Probably not. The flushed face, teary eyes and parted lips always gets him.

“Gyu,” you whine, hugging him tightly. “It hurts, please do something,” your whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. Mingyu can’t help but smirk, wondering if he should tease you. “Need you in me.” your sweet plea stirs him, more blood rushing towards the south.

“Fuck it.” He reaches between your thighs, cupping your pussy. The soaked, warm fabric makes him growl. Your hips immediately start rocking, generating friction — something you’ve been craving for so long now. You sigh in relief, using his hand to stimulate yourself.

“What if someone sees you like this right now? So needy, humping my hand?” Mingyu asks, amused. Goosebumps spread over your skin, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. However, you don’t stop moving your hips, inner walls clenching in desperation.

“Do–don’t say that,” you whimper, “so embarrassing.”

“Is that so? But you’re still rubbing into my hand, though.”

“It’s because you won’t help me…”

Mingyu can’t help but chuckle, his thumb finding your clit and pressing on it firmly. You scream out, a strong pulse of pleasure spreading through your nerves. He shushes you, alarmed. “Shh, you can’t be so loud today, baby… what if someone hears you and decides to check what’s going on?”

You bite your tongue, absorbing his words. The thought paralyzes you from embarrassment, but for some reason, your pussy has a mind of its own. “It’s all your fault,” you croon, “it’s all because you can’t control yourself.”

“I already said this like a hundred times, but, you look so fucking pretty in this cute little dress, baby. So fucking pretty. How am I supposed to control myself? When all I can think about is ruining my sweet angel?” Mingyu rasps, his calloused fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles. You’re certain that your legs will give up at this rate, your whole body teetering from the stimulation.

“Bu–but—” you lower your voice to a whisper, “people will catch us like this, what then?” He presses a fleeting kiss on the corner of your lips, pushing the soaked lace of your thong to the side and sliding his middle finger between your labia against your slit. You swallow back a moan, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Guess you’re gonna have to keep it quiet in that case.” Mingyu pushes the digit into your sopping hole, making a ‘shlick’ sound that surprises both of you. “Fuck, did you hear that? Did you hear how wet you are for me?” You squeeze him in response, nerve endings on fire. It feels so incredibly good to finally have something fill your aching core.

“Move, please,” you whimper, getting impatient. As if to test you, he slowly starts dragging his finger down, before pushing it back inside in a rough manner. You muffle your squeal against his shoulder, overwhelmed yet wanting more of him.

Soon enough, Mingyu loses the patience to tease you, his own urges kicking in. His ring finger slides into the depths of your molten warmth as well, your walls clenching around him from excitement. “You drive me fucking crazy,” he hisses under his breath. Slow, languid movements let him feel the way your arousal coats his skin in a silky veil, making him feel kind of suffocated around his crotch.

“Baby,” you whine, “wan’ more, please.” The burning ache for a release fires through your system, every single one of your cells begging for more. A breathy laugh rings in your ears, to your dismay.

“Want what exactly, love?” Mingyu’s eyes are twinkling with mischief, knowing very well that he’s pushing your boundaries right now.

“Harder,” your choked whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. He clenches his teeth, thumb pressing down onto the swollen nub before anything. A gasp escapes you, face falling to rest in the crook of his neck, breathing uneven. His fingers pick up speed eventually, your lower stomach in knots, a shiver running down your spine. If your mouth wasn’t pressed up against his skin, you probably would’ve blabbered about how good he’s making you feel.

It doesn’t take long for you to crest up towards the pinnacle, whole body convulsing, preparing itself for the rushing relief it’s about to experience. Mingyu, knowing very well that you’re about to finish, adds a third digit into your slippery warmth, seemingly triggering your orgasm. You muffle your cries in his neck, falling onto him as your legs give up entirely. He holds you securely with his free arm, feeling kinda dizzy himself. His neck is all slobbered up, covered with messy bites you left while trying to silence yourself.

It takes you longer than usual to recover, finding the strength to stand on your knees. Blood rushes to your face when you regard the state of your boyfriend’s neck, even the collar of his black polo a victim to your actions. Mingyu, on the other hand, barely holding on, finally starts to pull out his fingers from your pussy, your juices leaking out on his hand profusely from the movement. A breathy whimper escapes you, nerves alight for pleasure once again.

“Fuck, take a look at this,” He holds up his hand between you two, the slightly viscous liquid catching the sunlight and glowing, making you flush. “You treat me s’well, baby, servin’ me liquid gold.” His words only make you even more embarrassed, eyes avoiding him at all costs. The lewd sound of his slurping sends a tingle through your core, droopy eyes shyly catching him lick his fingers clean. You shudder a little when he moans satisfactorily, eyes trained on you the whole time.

In a sudden surge of boldness, you reach out to caress his jawline, bringing him closer for a kiss. Mingyu hums, a smile forming on his lips before attacking your mouth with full force. You gasp and moan while he finds his way to your tongue, the growingly familiar taste of yourself on his saliva causing a new surge of arousal to your core. Quite desperate to feel him now, you fumble with the button on his trousers blindly, undoing it quickly before reaching for the zipper.

“Fuck,” Mingyu pulls away with a hiss, his stomach tightening from the feeling of your hand lightly pressing onto his clothed cock. Your eyes greedily devour the outline of his boner, almost poking at the material of his boxer briefs. Pussy clenching at the thought of him filling you up, you pull at the waistband of his underwear.

“My god, Mingyu,” you swallow nervously, unsure how to react as his heavy cock springs out of its confines, slapping against his tummy. You’ve never seen it this angry and twitching, head covered with a light sheen of his pre-cum. Heart almost beating out of your chest, you reach for him, hands delicately wrapping around his length and giving it a few, slow pumps.

“Baby, fuck—” His eyes shut close, teeth digging into his plump lower lip to restrict any noises. With your thumb, you spread the gathering pre-cum all over his tip, making him whimper in the process. If you don’t get fucked right now, you might just lose your mind.

“Need you,” you whisper, pressing a fleeting kiss on his nose. Mingyu looks as if he’s pained, a defeated sigh escaping him.

“My love, I– I need you too. So, so bad, can’t explain.” His eyes tear up suddenly, “B-but—”

“What happened…?” You ask, alarmed by his expression.

“I— I don’t have a condom.” He frowns, wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face in the comfort of your chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.” Your heart drops to your stomach because of how devastating his tone is.

“Nooo! It’s okay… um, we didn’t know this would happen, y’know? So, um, don’t apologize, please. And don’t talk like that.” You nudge him to look at you.

“Yeah but… what are we gonna do now? We agreed to be safe from the beginning, so–”

“Well, I’m on birth control for my periods either way, so it’s okay.” You cut him off, desperate for him at this point.

Mingyu looks up at you, hesitant. “Angel, are you really sure about that?”

A sigh escapes you. You know why he is feeling uncertain, you know that you are the reason. “Gyu, I don’t know anything, but I might just go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now.”

He inhales a shaky breath, your words toying with the few last strings of self-control left in him. “Okay, what about this — I’ll only put the tip inside, make you feel super good so you come quickly for me, and then I’ll pull out before I make a mess.”

Your body shakes from anticipation. “Just the tip?”

“Just the tip, baby.”

Even though it’s not exactly what you had in your mind, you agree quickly. Anything to have him inside you. Also, you’re not too sure how that will possibly work out. You’re almost certain that you’ll end up getting more than just the tip.

Mingyu grabs your waist to position you right on top of him, the urgency in his actions painfully obvious. You gladly comply, too needy to say anything. As you feel his bulbous tip lining up against your entrance, you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “Gyu, I can’t wait anymore, need you right now.”

With a groan, he slowly guides you down his length, only letting his tip and the following inch inside. You whimper, struggling a little as you get used to the stretch. It’s kind of astonishing how even just that fills you up satisfactorily. But still, you crave all of him, your body knowing the euphoria of having him up in the furthest nooks of your pussy very well. “You’re so big,” you murmur, inner walls clenching around him greedily, eager for more. Mingyu huffs out deep breaths, his ears turning red. How cute.

He collects himself in a moment, firm hands around your hips to make sure you don’t slide down further than he intends to give you today. “You feel s’good, so wet and hot, I feel like I’ll melt.” Mingyu sighs, helping you ride him, his thumb rolling your clit in lazy circles.

You muffle your cries as he moves your hips in a slow and steady pace, inevitably sliding down his cock, little by little. However, he doesn’t really notice it, lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing him so deliciously. “Gyu, harder,” you plead, a bit tired of this torturously slow pace.

Mingyu complies almost immediately, pulling you even closer, his own hips bucking up to meet you halfway, while he continues to guide your movements. You moan out happily, arms winding around his neck. His thrusts are shallow, but the frenzied movements trigger more pleasure in you.

Eventually, he loses control over your movements, momentarily giving up against the fiery impulses running through his nerves. With all the lubrication between you two, you slide down as much as possible with nothing to restrict you. A string of incoherent words leave you, your body extremely giddy to get what you’ve wanted for so long.

“Fuck, no, this isn’t working,” Mingyu finally regains his senses, groaning as the untouched parts of his cock are engulfed by your warmth. He swiftly pins you down on an empty side of the picnic blanket. “Bad, bad girl.”

You squirm under him, whining while he pulls out of you, until only the tip is inside. “Now tell me, what should I do, now that you’ve broken our little deal.”

“Fuck me.” you whimper, your eyes teary by now. Mingyu tuts, shaking his head. You try your best to channel your pitiful, puppy dog eyes, ready to beg if that’s necessary.

“Such crude words from my sweet, little angel.” He sighs, “You’re really into testing my patience, aren’t you? Does it make you happy? Watching me lose my senses over your words?”

“Don’t hold yourself back, please. I want to make you feel good too. Please, Gyu. Fuck me, make me yours, I don’t even care if people see or hear us anymore. Please.” Your voice is broken, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Mingyu swallows nervously.

“Fucking hell.” The growled expletive marks the end of whatever self-control shit he was on. With one hard thrust, he smoothly fills up your touch-starved pussy entirely, coaxing out a loud moan of relief from you. His right hand immediately covers your mouth. “You might not care about some rando catching us like this anymore but I’ll be damned if someone sees you like this.”

Mingyu lets go of your wrists, putting his left hand on the small of your back to support your body. “Don’t you dare complain about how you can’t walk later. You brought this upon yourself, remember.” He nibbles on your earlobe teasingly before starting to move against you. His thrusts are on the rougher side, your stomach tightening as the pleasure starts to build-up.

With your free hands, you reposition his palm covering your mouth, suckling on his fingers instead. In response, you feel his cock twitch so vividly in your pussy, a groan reverberating in his throat. “You’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

Mingyu pounds into you in a frenzy, quite obsessed with the raw feeling of your spongy flesh gushing around his cock. You moan and cry around his fingers, clenching happily as you feel your release right around the corner. He also picks up his pace, grinding down onto your clit in the process. Your brain has lost all the critical thinking power, salty streaks running down your cheeks as you’re overwhelmed by the sensations.

You remove his fingers from your mouth, desperate to be heard. “‘m gonna come–”

“Fuck, come for me, love, I’m gonna pull out,” Mingyu grunts, his pace faltering as his movements lose rhythm, inching closer to his own release.

“No, no— come in me, baby. Please. Don’t ruin my dress.” He has no idea what you are on about, but he’d be lying if he said that it doesn’t sound tempting.

“Princess, do you even know what you’re saying?” He still asks, praying that you come back to your senses, for both of your good.

“I want you to come in me.” You manage to blurt out before your body convulses as the orgasm hits, gummy walls squeezing his cock to a halt. Mingyu curses under his breath, putting his fingers back in your mouth before you can scream your lungs out. Soon enough, he also reaches his peak, the thick, milky white liquid filling up your pussy to the brim.

“_____, fuck…” he whimpers, reveling in the newfound intimacy between you. You urge him to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

“Gyu,” you whisper, “you mean so much to me.” Mingyu nuzzles your face adoringly, pressing butterfly kisses over your bare skin, wherever he can reach.

“And to me, you’re like the sun.” His silly words make you laugh.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m like the earth orbiting around you, thriving because of your warmth and light?”

You flush at his words, beyond touched that he’d think of you in such a beautiful way. “You make me sound so insincere, Gyu.” Mingyu laughs at your pout, starting to get back up.

“Yeah well, I still have to figure out what your flowers mean, remember?” He reaches for the packet of napkins lying nearby, sighing at the sight in front of his eyes.

“Yeah…” you trail off, “Do that once you’re home, okay?” He nods, seemingly distracted.

“I’m sorry love, I made such a mess.”

“We.”

“Hm?”

“We made a mess. So don’t be sorry. I’ll help you clean up.” You offer him a smile, which he matches happily.

Mingyu scrutinizes you one last time, making sure that you look presentable from head to toe. “Yeah, everything looks okay… except that your dress is all wrinkled…”

“I told you it’s fine, I’ll fix it up after a wash, don’t worry!” You reassure him, redoing your braid. “And please wash this outfit as soon as you get home, okay? I know it all dried up now, but still…”

“I could say the same about your panties.” He chuckles, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, but I doubt it’ll be wearable after today.” You sigh, checking yourself on your selfie camera. “C’mon, let’s go now. It’s afternoon already!”

Mingyu hands you your basket, holding your free hand as you slowly take a few steps. “Are you sure you can walk?”

“Yes, positive! I have to get home somehow.” You smile through a wince, making him shake his head.

“Let’s go to my place. You can go back tomorrow morning after you’ve recovered from the pain. I’ll cook us dinner, help you take a bath, give you meds and cuddle you to sleep.” Mingyu offers, pushing off the bushes so that you guys can finally leave your little sanctuary.

You both step out on the nearby trail, intertwining your fingers together back again. “Why do you always make it so hard to decline, Gyu?” He gives your hand a firm squeeze, winking at you playfully.

“It’s a part of the package, baby.” His cocky chuckle infuriates you, but lord, is he right about that.

This man might just be the end of you. But would you really mind it?

end of act one ♡ next

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱

wahhh you made it to the end!! thank you so much for reading 🥹🫶🏼; i apologize if there are any mistakes in there, this is very roughly edited jdjfhfjhjff!! BUT i really hope that this was enjoyable and i was able to portray the lovebirds well 🤭! do let me know what you thought of this, please! reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated <333! you can also send feedback through asks if you’d prefer that! 💖

until next time!

p.s: i’m pretty new to caratblr and i’d be grateful if you guys could recommend me some blogs to follow 🥺... (you can recommend your own blog as well)!

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highvern · 11 months

Text

adamas et aurum

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: gross domestic fluff, boyfriend mingyu

Length: ~1.7k

Note: more Drunk Goggles couple bc im beating a dead horse. idk why i do this to myself :) crying :) in :) the :) club :)

read more here

“You owe me a kiss.”

“Oh, do I?”

Mingyu huffs, face covered in sweat, backwards hat matting his hair to his skull, bare chest rose-colored from the fiery sun and swampy humidity. You’ve both spent all morning moving boxes to and fro so he’s about two seconds away from laying down on the floor for a much needed nap. When it came to heavier stuff, Mingyu insisted you stay and start unpacking the necessities so the apartment would at least be somewhat functional around all the mess. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that his shredded patience couldn’t handle any more of your help. Thank god some of the guys are coming over tomorrow to help him with the furniture.

Because of his chivalry, you’ve stayed cool in the AC, humming to the music blasting from a speaker in the kitchen as you work to make the new space a home. All the while Mingyu slaves away to lug in stuff he doesn’t remember either of you owning.

“Boyfriend tax.”

“Ahhhh,” you nod.

Jumping up on your toes, you deliver a cartoonishly wet smack on his lips as a thank you for his hard word.

“How’s it going?”

“Bathroom is mostly unpacked but we need to get some bins to organize under the sink. Oh! And the beds made too!” You chirp, turning back to your task of wiping out the cabinets and drawers of your new kitchen. “If you wanna wash up and lay down, I’ll order something to eat.”

“You’re the best.” he sighs, stepping into the space behind you, chest against your back, face tucked into the curve of your shoulder, hands grasping the edge of the counter on each side of your hips.

“My man works hard, gotta take care of him.” You praise, twisting your neck to drop a kiss to his temple causing you to get a whiff of his sweat.

“Now go shower, you stink.”

“Hey!” Mingyu objects, face moving over your shoulder so he can look at you. “I’m sorry I’ve been roleplaying as your hot shirtless mover for the last two hours. Bust my butt and this is how you thank me?”

Turning to face him, you tangle your arms around his neck, linking your hands behind his head and pulling him into a bear hug. His palms slide around the sensitive skin of your back, pulling you closer as your shirt sticks to his sweaty chest uncomfortably where you press together. But that doesn’t matter right now. Right now, you’re together, in the new apartment you share, starting the next chapter of your lives.

“Thank you, Mingyu. I love you.” You whisper into his collarbone.

“Damn right.” He mumbles, tilting his head down to drop a sweet peck to your mouth, arms giving a tight squeeze before swatting at your ass as he turns towards the bedroom.

“Hey!”

“Boyfriend tax!” He calls over his shoulder, amusement bubbling in his voice.

Your eyes trail after him, heart swelling as it begins to fully register what you’ve done. He’s here and his name is on the lease next to yours; your matching keys hanging by the door, assigned parking spots downstairs next to each other. Mingyu just went into your shared bedroom, to take a shower in your shared bathroom, and tonight you’ll curl up beside him in your shared bed.

Wonwoo moving in with his girlfriend has been the catalyst for the much needed conversation. Mingyu had essentially been living out of your apartment for months already, only returning to his own place every few days for fresh clothes or to see his friend. When his roommate told him he was planning to move out after their lease ended in four months you simply scoffed at his distress about where to live.

“You basically live with me anyway.” You mumbled, not thinking about what the statement implied.

“I—,” he gapes. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“I just mean, you already stay here so much anyway.” You grumble, suddenly feeling awkward in his hold.

“Can you just ask me nicely?” He whines. “I wanna be romanced.”

Humoring him, you slide to the floor in front of the couch you two had been draped across. Dropping to one knee, you cup your hands together in a makeshift box like you’re proposing. Your eyes round and brows raise, attempting and failing to give him an earnest expression.

“Kim Mingyu, love of my life, future father of my children, bane of my existence. Will you do me the honor of moving in with me?”

“Bain of your existence?”

“Focus.” You snap your fingers. “Will you move in with me?”

“Duh,” he beams, tackling you to the ground and snaring you in a bear hug as you squeal in delight.

Your friends had warned you about signing a lease together; that no matter how many nights Mingyu stays at your apartment (twenty three in a row is his record), when you call the same place home things will be different. And all of his bad habits won’t change just because he’s living with his girlfriend. If anything they may get worse because it's his home now too and he’s no longer a long staying guest.

You already knew that Mingyu tends to leave the seat up after using the bathroom, and will collapse with laughter if you fall in; that he insists on burying his cold feet under your butt when sitting on the couch, occasionally wiggling his toes just to piss you off; and how he will put the carton of milk back in the fridge even if there's only a drop left no matter how many threats against his person you make.

But Mingyu also sets his alarm ten minutes earlier than needed so he can hold you in bed before starting the day, basking in each others drowsy warmth before braving the world outside the sheets; he frequently insists you sit between his legs on the floor and let him dry your hair after you shower, gently combing his fingers through it, sometimes twisting the locks into messy braids or buns with his clumsy hands; how he’ll surprise you with a candle light dinner, insisting you both dress up even though your sitting at the kitchen table on a Tuesday eating reheated leftovers, just because he can.

No matter how annoying his bad habits are, the good ones are worth their weight and more in gold.

A shockingly girlish shriek shatters your daydream.

Hightailing it to the bathroom, you spot your stark naked boyfriend through the plastic of the shower liner, quivering in the corner of the stall like a leaf blowing in the wind.

“What’s wrong?”

“Its fucking hot!” He cries, over his shoulder, trying to shield his body from the spray by curling into the tiled wall.

Heaving a sigh of relief and annoyance, you can’t help rolling your eyes as you step towards the front of the tub and twist the faucet, adjusting to a cooler temperature for him so he doesn’t have to stick his arm through the scalding rain.

“Big baby,” you grumble before heading back to the kitchen.

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!”

Mingyu shuffles into the bedroom, towel draped low on his waist, beads of water falling from his hair to his collarbone as he looks for the duffle bag he packed with clothes for the next few days; but the scene before him stops him in his tracks. The sun from the window casts the room in a buttery yellow, beams of light dappling your figure sprawled on the bed, mouth open slightly and hair a mess around your face. He leans a shoulder against the door frame, tired eyes full of love and mouth lifted in a gentle smile as his soulmate snores quietly a few feet away.

When you asked if he wanted to move in together, Mingyu lacked the self control needed to stop from jumping up and screeching like a kid in a candy store. The thought of living with his favorite person in the world had his heart tremble and his palms sweat. Despite all the oddities and quirks he learned about you in the past two years of dating, almost everyone warned him that you can’t really know someone till you live with them. He thinks the months before today had prepared him for the inevitable annoyances you two would face.

He’s accepted that you leave hair on the walls of the shower that eventually clog the drain, pooling water around his feet when he hops in the stall before work; how you push around takeout boxes and spoiled produce in the fridge for days instead of throwing them out; and that piles of unfolded laundry will sit on the edge of the couch for days on end until one day the planets align and you decide to re-organize your entire closet after folding the wrinkle garments.

Mingyu accepts all of those things because he also knows you like to surprise him by grabbing all the ingredients for a recipe he mentions wanting to try in passing, happily volunteering to be his sous chef and taste tester, insisting you both don the couple aprons his mom got you for Christmas; that when he isn’t feeling well you’ll scratch his back until he falls asleep with his cheek squished on your stomach while you fret over him; how you always wait up for him when he gets ready for bed, glazed eyes opening every few minutes to blink lazily, soft breath tickling the skin between his shoulder blades where your head lays only interrupted by an occasional sleepy kiss on his spine while he brushes his teeth.

His friends mentioned all the ways moving in together will change the way you see each other. But in the two years you’ve been dating, each time your relationship changed it's been for the better. When you two started hanging out on your own and he found his opinion on you shifting completely. When you admitted you liked each other and he learned you were a lot braver than he was. When you two fought for the first time and he realized that as brave as you were, you weren’t invincible. When he said he loved you for the first time by accident and discovered you were just as in this as he was. All the fights that challenged you to understand each other better, the struggles that strained your ability to take care of one another; all of it had changed your relationship but pressure makes a diamond.

A lot like the one he plans to give you when he asks if you want to change your relationship again one day.

#svthub #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #dghe couple #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #🫡 highvern #OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH BOY

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angelwonie · 2 years

Text

HIS SMILE || kim mingyu

PAIRING: mingyu x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 20.5k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, slowburn, fake dating!au

SUMMARY: falling in love with your fake boyfriend isn't a good idea, and it's even worse if that fake boyfriend happens to be Kim Mingyu. but you just can't help it — he's got the prettiest smile you've ever seen.

WARNINGS: smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), praise, size kink(!), overstimulation, fingering, manhandling, light dumbification] mingyu is strong...

“Oh, poor Y/N, you probably still haven't gotten yourself a boyfriend, have you?”

You can feel yourself tensing up at the words said by your colleague, Karina, her lips formed in a smile that completely contradicts the way she just spoke to you. She's acting as if it's just an innocent question, something she asked because she's genuinely curious – though you both know she said it to humiliate you, or maybe just to make you envy her for getting a loving boyfriend before you did. Either way, she's really getting on your nerves, and from what you can glimpse to the left, your best friend isn't very amused, either.

“No, of course she hasn't. With all the college work, I doubt she has the time,” One of your other colleagues defends you, sensing the tense atmosphere, and you send her a thankful smile.

“Right,” Karina says, a hint of amusement that very much pisses you off visible in her eyes. Her smile is so fake, it makes you want to throw up. “I’m glad I have my boyfriend, though, he's so lovely. Last night, when I came home, he'd prepared me homemade dinner and–”

You're growing more and more annoyed by the second when suddenly, Karina's monologue is cut off by your best friend's voice. And that relief that washes over you when Karina stops talking is wiped away the moment you hear what your friend has to say.

“Y/N does have a boyfriend, actually.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. What did she just say? Did you hear her right? Judging by your friends’ mouths that are hanging open, you probably did. And you surely look just as confused as them, because in all honesty, you do not have a boyfriend and one look in your best friend’s direction tells you she's already regretting her not thought-through actions.

“What?” Karina asks finally, this time her tone much more unamused. Is her voice quivering? “You’re joking, right?”

One look at her scandalized expression is enough to make you realize that you can't back out now. Not if you don't want to see her condescending smile every day for the next twenty years. So just grin at them, sending your best friend a sideways glare as she starts rambling about your nonexistent boyfriend.

“Oh, we're not joking,” She assures them, and it takes all of your willpower to stop yourself from hitting her right then and there. “He’s handsome as hell and so kind. Oh, and he's really, really tall.”

“Oh my god, show us a picture, Y/N!” One of your colleagues exclaims and you're suddenly very aware that all of their attention is on you.

“A– A picture?” You look at your friend frantically, but apparently, this is the extent of her helpfulness, because she's looking everywhere but at you. Traitorous bitch. Why’d she spew so much nonsense if she isn't even going to take responsibility for it? “Right, let me find one real quick.”

This is bad. Really bad. And what makes it even worse, is that today, of all days, when you open your phone with trembling hands, the last picture in your camera roll isn’t a photo of you with any of your close friends like it usually is. It could’ve been Soonyoung or even Wonwoo, and just like that, you could’ve introduced one of them as your super handsome boyfriend. But no, fate clearly isn’t on your side today.

No, today, of all days, the last picture in your camera roll is of you and the one and only Kim Mingyu – a guy known on campus for both his looks and his outgoing personality. He's got all the girls swooning over him, and until recently, you've been all but silently admiring him when you're in school – letting your eyes fan over his frame when he plays soccer or resting your gaze on him for a little too long during an otherwise boring lecture. You finally got the chance to talk to him for the first time no earlier than yesterday, but only after making sure there’s enough alcohol in your system to flirt with him shamelessly.

“Maybe you should give me your number,” You’d said as you were getting ready to leave, batting your eyelashes up at him. “You know, just so I don’t forget who to call when I need someone to change a lightbulb in my apartment.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” He’d asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement and handing you your phone back, this time with his number in it.

“Of course I am,” You responded, mimicking his facial expression. “We should take a picture together, too.”

“Why? So you won’t forget my face?”

You smiled at his playful tone – or maybe simply at the sound of his voice. “No. So that you won’t forget mine.”

He chuckled – a sound you still haven’t forgotten even though you were drunk as hell when hearing it – and let you click a few photos, putting his arm around your shoulder as if he really was your boyfriend. And then, when you were looking through the pictures, you felt his eyes on you again – this time different from when you were talking earlier, more intense somehow. Meeting that gaze of his, you were almost worried your knees would give out from underneath you, but someway, you managed to stand on your feet long enough for you to see his lips forming into a small, yet sincere smile and for his arm to leave your shoulder, instead caressing your cheek.

For a moment, you were certain he was going to kiss you – with the way he was leaning forwards slowly, stroking your skin and making your heart beat faster than ever before. And just when you thought he was going to connect his lips to yours, he placed them dangerously close to your jaw instead, his voice low and distracting in your ear.

“I wouldn’t be able to forget such a pretty face even if I wanted to, sweetheart.”

Blame it on the alcohol, but his words quite literally made you go insane and you went home with a giddy smile on your face, happy with how things were going. Now, though, you're putting all of that at risk.

Honestly, it's kind of your own fault. If you hadn’t decided to have a photoshoot with him while in your drunken state, you wouldn’t have ended up in this situation, with your phone clutched tightly in your hand, ah’s and oh’s leaving the mouths of your so-called friends as they look at the picture you’re showing them. A picture of you and Kim Mingyu, someone who is definitely not your boyfriend.

“Your boyfriend’s really handsome, Y/N, I’m so jealous!”

Oh, God. This is truly the worst possible outcome of this whole situation, isn’t it? How does one go from finally piquing a handsome guy’s interest to lying about being in a relationship with him in less than 24 hours?

“Oh, and by the way, Y/N, me and Karina are planning to go to her boyfriend’s soccer game this weekend. You and your boyfriend should come, too.”

You're thrown off guard by your colleague's question – they've never really invited you to things like that before. Guess you're much more interesting now that you have a tall, kind and handsome boyfriend. Correction: now that you're pretending to have a tall, kind and handsome boyfriend. Your friend is looking at you like she wants you to say no – even she is well aware that you're in a screwed-up position right now – but if you tell them you can't make it, you know that you'll be giving Karina exactly what she wants. And there's no way you're going to let her find out about this lie.

“Oh my god, really? We’d love to,” You say, mustering up a smile that turns real when you see the way Karina’s jaw is clenching.

“See you on Saturday, then.”

—

Okay, so it did feel amazing to see the look on Karina’s face when you told her you have a boyfriend, but you didn’t exactly think it through when you agreed to bring him to the soccer game on Saturday. Because that means that now, you can’t keep this a secret from Mingyu anymore – you have to ask him to get involved. Which is why already an hour after you leave the cafe with your colleagues, you’re calling Kim Mingyu, asking him if he has ten minutes to spare.

“It’s urgent,” You practically beg him on the phone.

“You missed me that much?” You can almost hear the smirk that’s planted onto his face, and it makes your heart skip a beat in your chest. Only once, though, before you realize you’re probably going to lose all chances of dating him soon enough. “Alright, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

And so here you are – sitting by a small table outside of a cafe, right across from Kim Mingyu. You're kind of just staring at him, stalling, because you're not sure how to tell him why you asked him to come. To your defense, it is a little embarrassing that you're here to ask him to be your fake boyfriend for a day. Much to your surprise, he's not saying anything, either, his eyes on you as you sit in silence. You can't really tell from his gaze whether he's amused or annoyed, but when the waiter brings you your drinks and you hand him his coffee, there is a small smile tugging at his lips and he tilts his head to the side. He's probably expecting you to speak now.

So you clear your throat and open your mouth, ready to tell him everything. Only you never get that far, because suddenly he's the one speaking.

“You’re different today.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded.

“You’re different than yesterday,” He says, smiling softly – as if more to himself than to you. “More nervous.”

Yeah, that's because there's no alcohol in my system, and you're ridiculously handsome, dumbass, you want to say.

“I’m not nervous,” You say instead.

“Really? You look nervous,” He grins wider, pointing at the way you're fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Hearing him point it out, you stop immediately. Seeing your reaction, he adds: “Don’t worry, it's cute.”

And a wink. He’s winking at you. You hate him. So much. You hate him, and his stupid flirting, and his stupid smile, because right now, you're trying to ask him for a favour, and here he is, making you feel like there are thousands of butterflies swarming in your stomach. And you can't even look him in the eye, because you're sure that if you did, he would be able to see right through you and how you feel like you're about to faint. But then again, you can’t exactly blame him when you’re the one who told everyone he was your boyfriend.

“Um, okay, so either way,” You start, voice already trembling. “What I wanted to say is that I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend and go to a soccer game with me this weekend.”

As expected, Mingyu’s initial reaction is a very shocked ‘can you repeat that, please?’ and when you do, he raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to say something. But you don’t let him, because you’re already utterly embarrassed and you just want to get this over with as fast as possible. So you let the words stream out of your mouth, and you explain everything – from how annoying Karina is to how truly sorry you are for dragging him into this whole mess.

“And I’m really, really sorry, but it’s just like I can’t tell them it was a lie, because they’ll totally-”

You’re babbling and babbling, looking everywhere but Mingyu’s eyes as he interrupts you.

“Okay.”

Your head tilts upwards to look at him instinctively and you’re met with the sight of him resting his chin on his hand, his pearly teeth on display as he grins. “What?”

“Okay, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“You’ll…”

“I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend so that your friends won’t find out you lied,” He repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, before he leans closer to you over the table – an act that makes you pull back with heat rising to your cheeks. “But only on one condition. You have to pay for my meals for as long as we’re dating.”

“Fake dating,” You clear your throat and correct him as he leans back in his chair again, and he only smiles in response, which your heart apparently takes as a sign to start beating like crazy. Why the fuck is his smile so alluring? God really does have his favorites, doesn’t he? If he’s going to keep looking at you like that, this whole fake-dating might end pretty quickly with a heart failure. “Yeah, okay, I suppose that’s fair, since I only need you as my boyfriend until this Saturday.”

“Only until this Saturday?” He pouts and a smile creeps onto your features, despite your attempts at holding it back. “Alright, then, I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

And he walks off, leaving you feeling a little too excited for someone who needs to pretend they’re dating Kim Mingyu.

—

Soccer. You know absolutely nothing about it, despite having ‘accidentally’ lost your way to the dorm and walked past the soccer field to watch Mingyu play countless times before. That’s why you tried doing research this morning – only that you were so uninterested that all you managed to memorize was that there are 11 players on each team. Way to go, Y/N. Now you’ll definitely impress Mingyu and fool everyone into thinking you’re dating someone who plays soccer.

“You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” You say as you see Mingyu’s worried expression. He's really cute when he's looking at you like that – like he cares for real, not just pretend. And that's probably what possesses you to tell him, of all people, why you're nervous. “Just a little stressed, because I know absolutely nothing about soccer, and I’m scared our relationship won’t seem believable.”

Why did you just say that? You literally wanted to impress him by pretending to be a soccer expert and now, you're straight up telling him you're clueless? Wow, you are doing a great job at making this whole thing more awkward than it already is.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Mingyu doesn't seem to mind what you told him though, looking more confused than annoyed. “Look, I’ve been watching my teacher explain algebra over and over again, but that doesn’t mean I get it.”

His words have you snorting with laughter and you can see his shoulders loosen up as he smiles. The look he's giving you is making something turn in your stomach – two days ago, you hadn't talked to him before, and suddenly, he's gazing at you as if you're the most interesting thing in the world. Is this how he gets all the girls to fall for him? If so, you totally understand them.

“Besides, you don’t need to like all the things I like for me to like you.”

Okay, um, he didn't need to say it like that. You can't stop your head from whipping around to look at him again, heart beating quicker and quicker, so loudly you fear he might hear it. It's like everything is in slow motion – your body's burning up and he's smiling, unaware of how affected you are by what he said. And he looks stunning, with his hair falling onto his forehead, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket and a cap on his head. You hate caps. They're ugly and are only worn by middle schoolers. But Mingyu wears one, and somehow, it only makes your heart beat harder against your chest.

You chuckle nervously to hide your flustered state, hoping to god you didn't stare at him in silence for too long. “Right, uh, we should get to our seats maybe.”

“Sure,” He smiles again (maybe they should ban smiling from now on, it's proven to cause heart palpitations) and puts his arm around your shoulders. Upon seeing your caught off guard expression, he adds: “We’re dating, remember?”

It's not like he's letting you forget, though.

The seats Karina reserved are somewhere in the back, but since the stadium is huge and the seats are high up, you can pretty much see everything without much trouble. This is something Mingyu notices right away, completely discarding the idea of introducing himself first in order to praise your colleagues for their seat choice.

“Wow, these seats are great,” He says, gaining everyone's attention. From the corner of your eye, you can glimpse the way some of your friends’ mouths drop open. “Whoever picked them out must know their stuff.”

You can see the way Karina's face lights up at Mingyu’s words and it makes you want to throw up. Not only because she's getting on your nerves, but also because you feel a sting in your chest at the fact that Mingyu praised her. You have no right to feel that way – you're not dating him for real, after all – but it hurts just a little bit after what he said earlier. ‘Besides, you don’t need to like all the things I like for me to like you’. What a load of bullshit.

“Aww, thank you,” You'd almost forgotten how fake her overly sweet voice sounds. “You must be Y/N’s boyfriend. I'm Karina, her friend since high school.”

Friend is a bit of an overstatement, for sure. All the two of you had in common in high school was crushing on the same guy. Which is, by the way, the guy who’s sitting next to Karina right now, fingers interlaced with hers. Seungcheol – someone you wasted three years of your life obsessing over, only for him to end up with Karina in the end. And you don’t realize how much of a grudge you still hold against him for choosing her over you before Mingyu finishes introducing himself, and it’s Seungcheol’s turn to smile in your direction.

“Nice to finally meet you, I’m Seungcheol,” He tells your fake boyfriend, before his eyes land on your frame and you feel yourself tense up. “Hey, Y/N, long time no see.”

“Yeah, I guess,” You say with a forced smile, unwillingly taking a step back when he leans forward and holding your breath until you realize he’s just going to shake Mingyu’s hand. Sighing in relief as he sits back down, you silently curse yourself for acting so nervous around him. Still, you can’t help the way it’s like a blunt knife boring into your chest when you lock eyes with the man who cut off all contact with you the moment he met Karina.

Lost in thought, you almost miss the way Mingyu’s grip tightens on your shoulders. Almost.

You turn to send him an inquiring look, but he either doesn’t notice or he just brushes it off, and takes you to your assigned seats. He plops down between you and Seungcheol – deliberately or not, you don’t know, but it sure makes you feel more at ease and you relax in his grip. That’s when you realize he still hasn’t let go of your shoulders, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is. There’s still space between your bodies, but his knee is brushing over yours and you can smell his cologne clearly. It’s expensive, probably, but it’s not a strong or bold scent. Still, it’s a distinctive aroma – you’ve never smelt it before and yet, you’d have no problem recognizing it after today.

The soccer game is boring, to say the least. You find yourself almost drifting off to sleep multiple times, and each time, you remind yourself that you’re sitting next to Kim Mingyu and he’ll most definitely be disgusted if you fall asleep and drool onto his shoulder. But even though you stay awake, you give up on watching the game about halfway, opting for looking at Mingyu instead.

He’s much more entertaining than some random people kicking a ball, anyway. Besides, his expressions pretty much mirror the whole game. You can tell when his favorite team scores a goal by the way he grins from ear to ear, laughing to himself, and you can tell when a good player misses, because he scrunches his nose up and has this disappointed look in his eyes. That disappointment is so bleak that it has you thinking that whoever does something to make him look at them like that is just, plainly put, a bad person. Silently, you hope he’ll never look at you that way.

“You’re quite invested in this game,” You lean over to Mingyu, raising your voice a little so that he’ll hear you through the noise of cheering people.

“Well, of course I am,” He tears his gaze away from the game to look at you, but only for a moment, before he’s watching the players run across the field with excitement-filled eyes. “This game determines who gets to play in the finale.”

“Ah, I see,” You say and Mingyu doesn’t miss how you smile to yourself, lowering your head as you push your hair away from your face. It’s to no avail, though, because it keeps falling down anyway. He smiles to himself, too, at the scene, but looks away before your eyes can meet, seemingly focused on the game again.

By the time the soccer game is finished, you’re pretty much bored to death – especially since for the past ten minutes, Mingyu has only been talking to Karina and her boyfriend. And for some reason, that makes you really mad. What can they say that’s so interesting? Maybe he should pretend to be Karina’s boyfriend instead, if he likes her so goddamn much. No, Y/N, what the hell? Fake dating has nothing to do with liking. It’s not like Mingyu is here because he likes you. No, he’s pretending to be your boyfriend, because… because, well, because you begged him to. And because you’re paying for his meals.

Still, it kind of angers you that Mingyu has the decency to smile like that at other people than you – since you’ve already been more exposed to heart problems because of that smile, shouldn’t it be reserved for only you?

“I’m leaving,” You tell them, eager to get home and still caught up in that sense of betrayal – something you don’t really have a right to feel in this situation. But it’s not like you can control your emotions. “Bye.”

Locking eyes with Mingyu for a moment, you sigh before turning around to leave just as your colleagues eagerly say something you can’t quite pick up to your so-called boyfriend. You hear their goodbyes faintly in the background as you start walking down the stairs to the exit, starting to feel a little stupid for just walking away like that – if you didn’t, you could have left together with Mingyu. But he doesn’t seem to mind staying and talking to Karina, so why should you care? You’re starting to think he only agreed to fake date you because of this.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” You hear a voice that undoubtedly belongs to none other than Kim Mingyu and it has you smiling before you can even turn around. God, you’re really starting to feel like those butterflies swarming in your stomach aren’t just from you being nervous about lying to your colleagues.

You’re feeling so giddy that you don’t really look where you’re putting your feet as you turn around, which results in your foot slipping off of the stair step and you fall onto the stairs with a wince that leaves your mouth in response to the sharp pain that cruises through your ankle. You want to cry out for Mingyu, but before you can even gather your thoughts enough to do that, he’s already by your side, his dark eyes open wide as they scan your face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, but before you get to reply, his hands cup your face, squishing your cheeks together as he tilts your head to one side, then the other, studying you intently enough for heat to rise to your face. Jeez, why are you thinking about the fact that he’s touching you when you literally just fell down the stairs? You seriously need to get your shit together.

“You’re not,” He decides finally, reaching out to wrap his arms around your waist, and you look up at him in disbelief, prompting him to add: “I’ll carry you.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer or anything, just lifts you up with one arm under your knees and the other under your back like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You think you can hear Karina shout something in the background, but you’re not sure, easily distracted by the feeling of warmth radiating off his body that is now closer to you than it’s been ever before. He’s just your fake boyfriend, but that doesn’t make the loud beating of your heart any less real from where you’re looking up at his focused face, thinking about whether he’s also feeling that small spark of electricity in his body when he touches you.

“But I think I can walk, though,” You mumble against his shoulder, and mentally curse yourself for feeling your heart speed up when he looks down on you, his nose less than two centimeters from your own. His breath lands on your face, at which you turn away from him, just to calm your racing heart a little bit.

“Why would you walk when I can carry you?”

His tone is genuinely confused and you start to think that he must be completely oblivious to the many feelings that stir up inside of you when he starts walking through the alley leading back to the dorms. Words like that are enough to make someone fall in love and yet, he's just saying them like it's something obvious – like it's obvious that since you've hurt your ankle, he has to carry you back home. Even though you can walk. Even though you could take a cab. Even though he's not your boyfriend.

He continues walking like nothing happened – because, as you've finally figured out, he probably doesn't think anything did happen – and you keep your head on his shoulder, feeling pretty miserable as you smell the scent of his shampoo clearly. You’re almost by the dorms when he suddenly stops, putting you down on a bench and telling you he’ll be right back before disappearing into some store, which you soon understand is a pharmacy.

“I’ll pay you back,” You tell him the minute he walks out of the store with an elastic bandage in his hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” He says softly, but you wish he didn’t. Can’t he just let you win this one time? It’s like, every time you see him, he proves that he not only doesn’t have any flaws, but also that he has a lot of qualities you didn’t know about before. But what if you don’t want to know about them? It’s enough that he’s making your heart flutter when he’s pretending to be your boyfriend, but now nobody is watching, so why is he like this? Does he want you to fall in love with him?

If he continues acting like this, you fear that might actually happen.

You watch quietly as he kneels down and helps you take off your shoe, wrapping the bandage around it as if he’s done it a million times before. And you don’t say anything, afraid that if you do, you’ll start crying. Not because it hurts when he touches your ankle, but because he looks absolutely beautiful, face illuminated by the setting sun. You’ve seen him play soccer so many times, and each time, you’ve internally screamed about how hot he looked, but this is different. This time, you can’t take your eyes off of him – his brows furrowed in concentration, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. It’s all so humane, and yet so captivating to watch.

Before you can even stop yourself, your hand is alreading coming up to Mingyu’s face and pushing his bangs away from his face, and it’s not before he looks up that you freeze with your fingers touching his cheek, realizing what you just did.

“Your hair,” You blurt out, immediately pulling your hand back and feeling your body grow hot when you lock eyes with him. “It was in your eyes, so I just… sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He tilts his head to the side, and you look down, pushing your own hair out of your face.

You don’t answer his question – what are you supposed to say? Not even you know why you apologized. Wait, no, you do know. Because you feel like you’re treating something fake as if it’s real. But isn’t that exactly what he’s doing, too? He’s talking to you like he enjoys it, putting a bandage onto your ankle and worrying about whether or not you are hurt. And none of it seems fake when he does it. Oh, you’re definitely going crazy. Good thing this whole arrangement is over now.

Right. It’s over. With all the stuff that has been going on, you totally forgot that your deal ended right after the soccer game. There’s no reason for you to see Kim Mingyu ever again. You can just cleanse your mind completely, starting tomorrow.

“Don’t you have any hair ties?”

Mingyu’s voice makes you look up in confusion, only to see him sitting right next to you on the bench. “Sorry?”

“Your hair keeps falling into your face, too,” He points out. “You should put it up.”

“Oh, I don’t really like putting my hair up,”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, it’s just… I feel like it looks bad on me.”

You feel his gaze on you again, lips pushed in a pout and he looks at you like he’s examining a soccer game. Which partly makes you feel uneasy, but mostly, you’ve grown to enjoy being the center of his attention. Which is dumb. Because he’s just talking to you since you promised to pay for his meals.

“That makes no sense,” He decides finally with a smile. “It’s common knowledge that if you have a pretty face, you should put it on display for everyone to see, you know.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” You scoff, feeling something turn in your stomach. Pretty face. He’s evil for saying it, but you’re the one at fault for feeling like you’re about to float into the air at his words.

“It’s not bullshit,” He protests. “But it made you smile, so you can think whatever you want. As long as you stop walking around grumpy, because it’s making me feel uneasy.”

“Why is it making you feel uneasy?”

“Because I prefer it when you smile,” He grins, before standing up from the bench. “Come on, we should get going. It’s dark already.”

One look to the sky is enough to make you realize that it is, in fact, already dark, so you grab Mingyu’s outstretched hand and you let him pick you up, this time placing you on his back instead. You wrap your legs around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder – justifying it by saying that it’s the last time you can enjoy being this close to him. Which is true, but it still doesn’t justify how you’re drinking in his scent and the sound of his breath as if you’re trying to memorize it.

“Are you sure you can carry me all the way to campus?”

“Yes, of course,” He says before bringing one arm up to flex his biceps. “I’m a strong boy.”

You chuckle at his antics, taking the opportunity to bury your head in his neck, feeling how goosebumps spread all over his skin when your nose brushes over it. “You’ve been a good fake boyfriend, you know. Thank you for doing this.”

“What?” You hear Mingyu’s confused tone. “Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. Karina asked if you and I wanted to join them for bowling tomorrow.”

You sigh. “And what did you tell her?”

“That we would come,” He says and upon seeing your expression, he’s quick to add: “I mean, what else was I supposed to say? That we’re planning on breaking up tomorrow?”

You sigh miserably, knowing that he’s right. It’s not like he could say anything else.

“Are you mad?” He asks after a while, and you ponder for a bit on that question.

Are you mad? Yeah, you are. But after some thought, you realize you’re not mad that you’re going bowling or that you have to keep pretending that Mingyu is your boyfriend – you’re mad because this means you no longer have an excuse for the way you feel happy in his company, or the way you’re tightly holding onto his shoulders right now. Because it’s not the last time you get to hear his voice, to feel his touch, to see his face, and yet you’re looking at him as if it is. And you have a feeling you’re starting to figure out exactly why that is.

“No,” You reply finally. “Just tired.”

Yeah. Sleep will fix everything. It has to.

—

Sleep doesn’t fix anything at all.

If anything, it makes everything worse, because you dream about Mingyu and his godforsaken smile that he bestows upon you right before he leans down to press his lips to yours. And that’s when you wake up, feeling more miserable than ever. Now you’re really starting to wonder why the fuck you thought it was a good idea to start fake-dating your crush.

God, Y/N, get your shit together. Are you really so weak that you can’t spend two hours in Mingyu’s presence before you start dreaming about him? In all honesty, though, it’s not your fault that he looks so pretty when he smiles. And when he doesn’t.

“Shut the fuck up,” You mumble to yourself as you get up.

Today is going to be a long day.

“Where are the others?” Is the first thing you ask Mingyu when you arrive at the bowling center, where he’s sitting alone on a chair by the bowling track. Your only solace when you thought about meeting Mingyu again and having to deal with his painfully handsome face, was that the two of you wouldn’t be alone, and yet somehow, you’re the two first to arrive.

“Not here yet,” He says, looking up from his phone and pushing his hair back to look at you. “You walked all the way here?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You shouldn’t be walking long distances when your ankle is hurt,” He points out and you press your lips together into a thin line – it’s 1pm and he’s already making your insides turn to mush. Great. “Sit down at least, if you’re gonna be so stubborn.”

You nod and do as you’re told, looking everywhere but at Mingyu. Maybe if you don’t look at his face, you can stop this stupid crush from turning into something worse. It’s naive, but it’s better than having your heart flutter at the smallest of things. Like when he ran his fingers through his hair earlier – why the hell did you get goosebumps from that? You must be out of your mind.

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable or something?” Mingyu asks suddenly, and it makes you really feel bad for acting like that. It’s not like he’s making you feel like this on purpose. “It’s like you don’t want to look at me.”

Oh, you do want to look at him. You just know better than to hurt yourself like that.

You sigh and turn to him, resting your chin on your hand. “Is this better?”

“Much better,” He smiles cheerfully in return.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

And rightfully so, you think to yourself as he giggles softly, before opening up a bottle of water and putting it up to his lips. You’re wishing you never turned to look at him again, because the way the sleeves of his shirt have rolled up to reveal his arms should be illegal. You can see the way his muscles flex as he opens the bottle, the way his jaw and neck are on display when he tilts his head backwards to drink. The way his soft lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle has your mind reeling with images of him kissing you like that, and since the vision is making your whole body heat up, you turn your eyes away, searching for something else to focus on.

You find that ‘something’ on the table in front of you – there’s another bottle of water there and you decide it’s a good distraction, so you reach for it. Everything goes well until you’ve tried to open it three times and the cork doesn’t even move an inch. What the fuck?

“You need help with that?”

Mingyu’s looking at you with a hint of amusement in his eyes, hands already taking the bottle from you without waiting for a proper answer. You give up on protesting and silently sit back, watching the veins on his hand become more apparent as he opens the bottle with ease, before handing it back to you with a satisfied grin on his face. It’s obvious in the way he’s looking at you that opening the bottle for you boosted his ego, and it makes you roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to look so happy, you self-obsessed idiot.”

“Who are you calling self-obsessed?” He pouts, suddenly leaning forward and pinching your cheeks – something that makes your heart beating stop for a good five seconds. “I just wanted to help my cute baby out.”

“I’m not your–”

“Oh my god, you two are so freaking cute!” You’re interrupted by a voice that undoubtedly belongs to one of your colleagues who just walked in, Karina and Seungchoel in tow. Taking it as a sign, you pull away from Mingyu, feeling your heart beat so hard that you’re scared it’s going to beat out of your chest. What the hell just happened? “Sorry we’re late, we missed the bus.”

The fact that you’re not alone with Mingy anymore allows you to pull yourself together a bit, and you’re happy to see that he’s leading the conversation without asking you for any input. Soon enough, Karina wants to start bowling, and you’re divided into three groups – Karina with her boyfriend, Mingyu with you, and your two other colleagues with each other. You’ve never bowled before, which makes you extremely nervous – maybe the fact that Mingyu is watching you plays a part in that, too – and as expected, you totally miss the bowling skittles when you let go of the ball.

You can hear Karina giggle in the background, which makes you sit down, discouraged. Plopping down next to Mingu, you don’t really pay attention to who’s playing, more focused on counting down the time until you can go home, already tired of all this. You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you almost don’t notice Mingyu’s hand that he rests on your upper thigh. Almost. In an instant, you’re turning to look at him in disbelief, but it’s a bad idea, because he was leaning towards you, too, to whisper something in your ear.

You freeze in your seat, and so does he, the rest of the world suddenly drowned out. The only sound hitting your ears is his breath, and it’s like everything is moving in slow motion – his dark brown eyes staring into yours, large hand brushing over the skin on your thigh, his skin flushing a delicate shade of pink. You can barely register your own nervousness as you look at his lips – usually turned up in a smile, but right now they’re slightly parted, no trace of cockiness to be seen anywhere. Is it bad that you really want him to kiss you right now? It is, and it’s even worse that you can’t even deny it anymore.

You should pull away, look away, do something – anything. But you can’t. You’re just looking into his eyes like there’s no one else in the room, letting that warm feeling that stirs up inside of your chest grow.

“What I wanted to say was that you don’t have to get upset over what Karina says or does,” Mingyu finally whispers, licking his lips and clearing his throat as he breaks eye contact. “Her opinion doesn’t matter.”

You nod slowly, wondering why he looked away – is he nervous, like you? Kim Mingyu and ‘nervous’ are words that you’d never place together in a sentence, but now, he really seems a little hesitant, or maybe even shy. You don’t know. Oh, why is he always so hard to figure out? First, he’s flexing his muscles at you and calling you his baby, and then he’s looking away when you lock eyes with him? His middle name should be ‘mixed signals’ at this point.

“Mingyu, it’s your turn.” It’s Seungcheol’s voice that forces you to turn your attention elsewhere, and you’re half-relieved, half-angry as you watch Mingyu rise up from his seat and take the bowling ball into his hands. Your thigh feels kind of cold without his hand resting on it.

As expected, Mingyu is really good at bowling – just as he is good at everything else – and it seems that his usual mood is back, because before he throws the ball, he’s lifting it up with one arm to show everyone how strong he is, and sending you a wink. It’s just for show, but it still sends a spark of electricity through your body. Though that still doesn’t compare to the way you’re basically drooling over him as he bowles. Hey, it’s not your fault that he looks fucking hot in that black shirt that folds up just enough to reveal a centimetre or two of his abs as he jumps up in thriumph.

What catches your attention, though, is how you’re not the only one shamelessly staring at Mingyu – Karina seems to be just as drawn to him, looking at him as if he’s her next meal or something. What the hell? You’d think that since she’s got a boyfriend, she’d stay away from someone she thinks is your boyfriend. Once a bitch, always a bitch, you think to yourself as you see her smile flirtatiously at Mingyu when he looks at her for a moment. Okay, that’s enough.

You stand up, pretty much making all of your colleagues look at you with furrowed brows and walk up to Mingyu just as he’s about to pick up another ball. Surprising both him and yourself with your actions, you grab ahold of his arm, pulling him closer to you.

“We should get going,” You say to everyone, throwing a fake smile Karina’s way before you stomp out of the bowling center, dragging a very confused Mingyu with you.

Once you’ve stepped outside and gotten a breath of fresh air, it dawns on you that your fingers are still wrapped around Mingyu’s biceps – as wrapped around as they can be, anyway, because for them to fit all the way around his arm, your fingers would have to be like five times longer. You retract your hand as you realize you’re touching him, not even sparing him a glance when you start walking home. Maybe it’s because you feel embarrassed for dragging him away like that, or maybe you don’t want him to see how upset you are, but you figure it’s best if you walk away from him.

“Hey!” You hear his voice, and not even two seconds later, his fingers are closing around your wrist, forcing you to stop walking. “You okay? What was that about?”

And that’s it for not having this conversation right now, you suppose. You turn around to face him, sighing.

“Did you really not see how Karina was looking at you?” You ask him and when he furrows his brows in confusion, you groan. “She was totally staring at you for twenty minutes, at least. Like she wanted to eat you or something. Did you really not notice?”

“No,” He shakes his head.

“Wow, you really are ignorant,” You laugh bitterly. Great, so he's probably not even aware that his actions can make someone's heart beat faster, or that the things he does make him seem like he's interested in you. “You’re seriously so unaware of everything.”

“Well, I’m aware that you’re jealous.”

“Excuse me?” You blink in surprise and he just flashes you a grin before starting to walk down the sidewalk. Does he really not realize he's making you want to rip your hair out? Or maybe he does, and he's just preying on your downfall. Either way, you conclude that you should get rid of him as soon as possible. “Mingyu, wait, you're walking too fast.”

Oh, well. Maybe you're not as strong-willed as you thought.

“It’s not my fault your legs are so short,” He says, but waits for you nevertheless, and adjusts his pace so that he's walking next to you. His hands are in his pockets, a smile on his face and the way his muscles are illuminated by the sunlight has you fighting for your life. “You’re small and cute, though, so I'll forgive you.”

“Do you have a size kink or something?”

You regret saying that as soon as the words leave your mouth, because now you're not only flustered from when he called you cute, but your mind is also reeling with the thought of him being turned on by you being smaller than him. Which is absolutely wrong of you to think about, since you're not even in a real relationship with the guy. So why are you suddenly feeling a little faint when you look at his strong arms and hands big enough to cover your whole face? And why are you dying to feel them on you?

He's about to reply to your question, when suddenly, you can see his eyes fan to something behind you, and soon enough those arms you were drooling over are grabbing you by your shoulders and he's practically throwing you to the other side of the sidewalk. It's because a car was driving close to the pavement, you realize, and it's such a touching gesture that it makes your heart beat quicker. But you can't even focus on that for too long, because soon enough, you're thinking about the way he basically manhandled you and how badly you want him to do it again.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. What is wrong with you, Y/N? He's just being a kind person and you're not only developing a crush on him, no, now you're also thinking about fucking him. Talk about the worst fake-dating experience ever.

“Doesn’t he know how to drive or what?” You hear Mingyu mumble and it takes you a second to realize what he's talking about, and another to realize you're staring. Hopefully he didn't notice. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Of course he noticed.

“Like what?” You decide to play dumb and start walking again.

“Like that,” He emphasizes. “Like you want to eat me or something.”

He's just teasing you, you realize as soon as he repeats what you'd said earlier about Karina. He probably doesn't even realize just how right he is. And he doesn't need to realize it, either, you think to yourself as you roll your eyes at him to hide your nervousness. Or maybe there's a chance he feels like that, too? He did push you aside so he was the one walking on the dangerous side of the pavement, after all. And he put his hand on your thigh. And smiled at you. And looked at you as if you were the only girl in the world. And–

No. You need to stop doing that to yourself. He's your fake boyfriend, he needs to do these things. But most of these occurrences happened when the two of you were alone.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Mingyu asks suddenly and you whip your head around to look at him.

“Studying for my math exam at the library with Wonwoo. Why? Did Karina ask for us to go somewhere with her again?”

“No. Why with Wonwoo, though?”

“Because he’s good at math?” You say, eyeing his clenched jaw cautiously. “Why’re you asking?”

“No reason.”

And then he just walks in silence. Why is he suddenly so quiet? Is he jealous? Is it bad that you hope he is? Probably. But you can't help it. You’re so caught up in imagining a jealous Mingyu that you don’t even realize you’ve arrived at campus before you see the school fountain right in front of you, and the university building behind it. It’s still quite early, and the sun lights up the flower-filled grass in a way that makes it look really magical. You smile to yourself at the sight, and turn to look at Mingyu, but he’s nowhere to be seen. For a second, your smile drops, before you feel a hand on your shoulder and Mingyu’s face is smiling down on you, a small, yellow flower in his hand. He must’ve picked it just now.

“Boo,” He says softly, and it’s like he casts some sort of spell over you, because suddenly, you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, even as his hot breath fans over your face and spreads goosebumps all across your skin.

“It’s pretty,” You tell him. It’s about the flower, you think to yourself, but it’s really not.

A second passes. Then two. He doesn’t move. He’s just looking at you, his eyes fan over your lips, your nose, then they stare into yours. Deeply. Warmly. Ardently. You don’t want to look away, so you don’t. And neither does he. Six seconds. Seven. He leans in – you can hear him breathe. Or maybe it’s the sound of your own breath? It’s all mixed now, intertwined. Eight, nine, ten. His hand touches your jaw. It burns, but in the best way possible. You don’t want this to end. Fifteen seconds have passed. His fingers tuck something behind your ear. The flower. It’s the flower. Eighteen. Nineteen. A smile that makes you melt.

“Yeah,” He whispers, finger grazing your cheek before he pulls away. “Really pretty.”

And then it’s just complete silence, except for the sound of your heart loudly banging against your chest. Boom. Boom. Boom. You’re in love.

—

You’ve always felt perfectly content with having a silent, one-sided crush on Kim Mingyu, but now that you’ve gotten a taste of who he is, it’s hard not to wish for something more. Even though you know it’s not going to happen.

That's what you're thinking about the next day as you sit in the library with Wonwoo, a math book full of things you don't understand in front of you. You've been sitting like this for an hour, and Wonwoo has already filled three pages in his notebook with math assignments, while yours remain empty. Mingyu has been occupying your mind ever since you parted ways yesterday, the way he put the flower in your hair playing on repeat in your thoughts.

The flower. Oh, you must be crazy, but you could swear that you saw a hint of emotion in his eyes as he looked at you, something that sparked up a hope that you might just have a chance with him. Maybe he has feelings for you, too.

Just as you're thinking about that, your phone buzzes with a message and you pick it up instantly in hopes that it's Mingyu. It's not.

Hi would u and Mingyu like to come along on a trip w me and Cheol this weekend? We’re going to the seaside resort :)

“Of course you're going to the fucking seaside resort,” You mutter under your breath, catching Wonwoo’s attention.

“What was that?” When you shake your head, he sends you a smile and doesn't press any further. For some reason, that makes you feel out of place. He's so different from Mingyu, who would've definitely investigated you by now. You find yourself missing that, missing him, even though you shouldn't. “Do you want to take a small break and go grab something to eat?”

“Yeah, sure,” You agree, because it'll definitely be good for you to stop focusing so much on Mingyu and the feelings you've developed for him. But right as you're done packing your things, the doors to the library are, to the librarian's dismay, thrown open with a thud and in walks the only person you know who wouldn't care (or know) that you're supposed to stay quiet in a place like this.

“Y/N!” Mingyu’s loud voice tears through the silence, and many students raise their heads to look at what the hell is going on. Some look utterly confused, with their mouths hanging open, and you suppose you look the same as you watch a man who last read a book in middle school walk into the library. “There you are. You guys done studying?”

“I– Uh, no,” You say, suddenly very nervous. “We were going to take a break and eat something. But what are you doing here? I thought you hated the library.”

“I still do, this place is awful,” He frowns for a moment, but not even a second later his signature smile is back on his face. “But I wanted to help you study.”

He what? That just sounds strange coming out of his mouth. Not to mention the way it makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach. One thing is Kim Mingyu flirting with you, and pretending to be your boyfriend – another is him suddenly offering to study in the library with you, even though you know he hates it. Especially since he doesn't have to. It's not like he has to pretend to be your boyfriend right now.

“You… wanted to help her study?” It's Wonwoo that speaks up first, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, can't I do that?” Mingyu’s voice is soft, but his eyes that have settled on Wonwoo’s frame emit some kind of coldness that you’ve never seen in them before. Wonwoo seems to sense this, too, because his gaze fans to you and he smiles under his breath at Mingyu’s behavior. “We can go get food later, Y/N, let's finish studying first, okay?”

“But Wonwoo wanted to–”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ll get food by myself,” Wonwoo says reassuringly and you can glimpse the way Mingyu’s shoulders loosen up as your friend picks up his bag. “I finished the homework earlier, and, to be honest, it doesn’t look like I’m wanted here.”

And with a wink sent Mingyu’s way, he walks away, leaving you alone with the boy you’ve both been dying and dreading to see. His bangs are in his face – his hair is messy, his eyelids are drooping and his shirt is creased. He must’ve just gotten up from bed, which is such a Mingyu-thing to do, considering it’s already way past noon. Nobody sleeps that long. Nobody except him. Just like nobody except him can make you smile just by simply existing – just by standing next to you in sweatpants, with a can of Redbull in his hand. Looking way out of place, but staying anyway.

“Hey,” You say it more like a question, but Mingyu doesn't seem to notice that as he sits down by the table where you and Wonwoo were studying earlier.

“Hey,” He replies and takes a sip of his drink – which, by the way, he's not allowed to have at the library. Though you don’t suppose he cares, since his wide smile is back on his features again, like it never left. “You ready to study?”

You sit down on the chair to his right, feeling your lips spread in a small smile at the way Mingyu’s all up in your business again – even if it mean he’s making your stupid little crush even worse by just being close to you. That thought seems so distant, though, when you see him grin at you cutely despite the tiredness in his face.

“I am,” You say, getting out your notebooks again. “But I have trouble believing you’re here to study.”

“You got me,” He raises his arms in resignation, flashing his teeth at you as he’s leaning back in his chair. “I’m just here to watch you study and be of moral support.”

“Right,” You say, eyeing him cautiously. “I don’t think today’s your working day, though, fake boyfriend. It’s not like Karina can see us here.”

“So?”

‘So’? What the hell is that supposed to mean? One look at his face is enough to tell you he’s well aware that today, he doesn’t have to hang out with you. And yet he’s right here, in the library of all places, sitting next to you like it’s the most natural thing to do. Does that mean he genuinely likes to spend time with you?

“So, you are free to leave,” You give him another chance, just in case he’s starting to realize his mistake, though if he left now, you’re not sure whether you wouldn’t just have started crying your eyes out.

“Do you want me to leave?”

He must be dumb for real, you think to yourself as you catch his softly curious gaze. There’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on – if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was feeling apprehensive to hear the answer. Which isn’t possible, obviously, because Mingyu doesn’t care what people think of him, and he certainly doesn’t give a shit if you tell him to leave. He’ll just find another girl to flash his smile at. Still, something in his gaze tells you not to joke around right now, so you speak your mind.

“No, I don’t,” You can’t help but mimic his actions when he grins and that weird look in his eyes disappears, but before he can start shouting, you add: “But that doesn’t mean you get to bother me while I work. I don’t want to hear a single word from you until I’m done with this assignment.”

“You’re so cruel,” He pouts but shuts up, picking up some random book from the nearby shelf and burying his nose in it.

You sigh in content, turning your attention to your mathbook. Now you'll really get to work.

You don’t really get to work, though. Thirty minutes have passed without a single equation being written down in your notebook and it’s all Mingyu’s fault. Technically, he’s not bothering you at all as you work, his eyes firmly planted in the book in his hands. And still, you can’t seem to concentrate at all when he’s sitting next to you, with his long fingers gently tapping the wooden table as his eyes fan over one page, then the other, and he’s bringing his hand up to turn to the next page.

He doesn’t do any of this elegantly at all – truly, his grip on the page is way too rough, folding the paper each time he turns it over and his eyes keep fanning back up to a previous sentence he didn’t quite catch because he zoned out. It’s painfully obvious he hasn’t read a book willingly before in his life, and yet, somehow, he manages to look utterly beautiful while doing it. His whole existence is a threat to your sanity, you conclude, looking away. You can’t afford to have him notice your staring.

Not even ten minutes later, just as you’ve finally calmed yourself down enough to fill half a page of math problems (the only obstacle in your way being the hair that keeps falling into your face) this temporary peace of mind is torn away from you in an instant when you feel a featherlight touch on your neck, making your head snap up in surprise.

There are goosebumps forming on your skin when your eyes meet Mingyu’s sheepish smile, his fingers caressing the back of your neck as he gathers your hair in his hands. For a moment, you can’t seem to form words, taken aback by this close proximity, your heartbeat loud in your ears. Then, slowly, you start breathing again.

“What–”

“Shh,” He cuts you off, as if you didn’t just have to sit there regaining your breath just to ask him the question he’s not letting you ask. “Don’t get distracted. I’m just putting your hair up.”

Just. So this is, like, normal for him? He puts every girl’s hair up in a ponytail when hair falls in her face? That explains why he owns a hair tie.

“Where did you get that hair tie?” You ask him, a little accusingly, as he finishes putting your hair up in a ponytail.

“At the store? That’s where they usually sell hair ties, you know.”

“Yeah, but like, why do you have it? It’s not like you need it.”

“No, but you do,” Upon seeing your unconvinced expression, he sighs. “I saw it at the convenience store today, and it made me think of you and how your hair is always falling into your eyes because you won’t put it up, so I bought it. Now you have a hair tie and I get to hang out with you more because you can finish your assignment quicker. It’s a win-win situation, really.”

For a second you’re left just blinking dumbly, feeling a little giddy for no reason at all. He bought it for you? He thought of you at the convenience store? Is this the part where you start jumping up and down, giggling? No, Y/N, calm down. It's not like he confessed his love for you, either. But you suppose it's close enough.

“Idiot,” You tell him with a smile so big it makes your cheeks hurt. “Why would you waste your money on that?”

“It’s not a waste, it's a gift. Now finish your assignment, I'm getting bored.”

And as if to prove his point, he leans back in his chair with his eyes closed, resting his arms behind his head. There's nothing extraordinary about the action, and yet it makes something turn in your lower stomach when his shirt rides up a few centimeters to let you catch a glimpse of his abs. His biceps are on full display, too – flexed because of the position he's in, and big. There's no doubt he's spent some time in the gym and God, it shouldn't be legal to look this good because now you're imagining him working out, drenched in sweat and shirtless and it's absolutely not good for your health.

“Oh, right,” You say to Mingyu, suddenly reminded of something. “Karina and Seungcheol want us to come with them to the seaside resort this weekend.”

“We should go, then,” Mingyu opens his eyes and rests his chin on his hand. “Right?”

“Probably,” You sigh. “It’s the whole weekend, though. Friday evening to Sunday morning. Two nights at the hotel. It seems a little redundant.”

“I don't mind. I don't have anything else to do, anyway.”

You raise your brows in suspicion. “Kim Mingyu doesn't have anything to do on a Friday night except spend time with his fake girlfriend at a seaside resort? I'm finding that a little hard to believe.”

“Yeah, okay, correction: I don't have anything else I'd rather do on a Friday night than spend time with my fake girlfriend at a seaside resort.”

In contrast to his usual playful smile, he's looking quite serious as he says that and you wonder if he means it. You read into the things he says a little too much, you know that, but it's not like it's completely baseless for you to think that he might like you. Oh, this is all so fucking complicated. Fake boyfriend, real boyfriend – where does one draw the line? He is only pretending to date you, so why do his smiles feel so genuine? Why does it feel real when he tells you you’re pretty?

If he's only your fake boyfriend, why are you in love with him for real?

“Great. I'll tell Karina we're coming, then.”

——

You are not going to let yourself be affected by Mingyu and his actions today. Not even in the slightest bit. You can’t afford to get your hopes up. Besides, staying indifferent can’t be that difficult, right? He’s not that interesting. His smile isn’t that alluring, either, if you really think about it – there’s nothing fascinating about the way his eyes turn upwards when he grins, pure elation radiating off of him. Nope, you don’t care about him and his stupid smile at all. That’s what you keep repeating in your mind on the way to the seaside resort, knowing damn well it must be the worst lie to have ever been told.

It’s fine, it’s fine. Even if he does affect you and your heartbeat rate, you can still keep it a secret. You’ve been doing it for the past weeks, so why not this weekend, too? This weekend and you’re done – you and Mingyu part ways once and for all. Sure, you’ll feel miserable without seeing his smile, but it’ll pass after a week. Or seventeen years.

Shit. You’re so fucked.

And you realize you’re even more fucked than you thought as you enter the hotel at which you’re supposed to be staying at, only to find Seuncheol and Karina already standing in the hallway. But they're not the reason you're fucked. No, the reason is standing next to them in a white, form-fitting shirt and his laugh echoing off the walls.

Mingyu’s back is turned to you, but it brings you little relief, since you can clearly still see the outline of his back muscles through the thin material of his shirt. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say he looks godly, and neither would it be an overstatement to say that, no matter how bad you try not to, you can’t help but literally devour him with your eyes from where you’re walking towards them slowly. Partly, you dread the moment they’ll notice you, because you’ll be forced to look not only at Mingyu’s exposed forearms but also his ridiculously handsome face. And even as you prepare yourself for the moment, you still find yourself feeling a little dizzy when Mingyu turns around to look at you.

“Y/N, you’re here,” He says, and the excitement laced in his voice is just a little too real for you to completely get rid of the idea that it’s not just pretend. “I missed your pretty face.”

He then proceeds to trap you in his arms, muffling out all sounds of Seungcheol and Karina laughing as he pulls you flush against his chest. You can’t breathe for a moment – not because his grip is too tight, but because you realize that fuck, you’re actually being hugged by Kim Mingyu right now and it feels way too comforting for your own good. The scent of his cologne hits your nose – it’s the same one he used at the football game, the same distinctive smell that officially belongs to him now – and the warmth of his skin actually works to calm down your heart a little. It’s a contrast to how you usually react to being close to him, but you don’t mind, because this feeling of solace brings you equally as much glee.

“I missed you, too,” You mumble against his chest, and it’s not a lie at all. “But can you please let go of me? You’re crushing my ribs.”

“Ah, right,” He chuckles, and when he lets go of you, the whole world falls back into place – reminding you why you’re here and that you’re not alone. “Sometimes I forget how small and cute you are.”

You scoff in response, feeling your whole body heat up.

One would think you’d get used to these dumb comments after coming dangerously close to heart failure because of him more times than you can count the past weeks. But no, it still affects you all the same and makes your insides turn to mush, even if Karina and Seungcheol are standing right there, which means that his words are most likely just for show.

It's the weekend, though, and you've been living in a constant state of overthinking the past week, so you don't suppose it's that much of a big deal if you sit back a little and let yourself feel happy when Mingyu shows you affection. It's inevitable, anyway, since you’re in love with the guy. In love. It sounds so serious when you put it like that. And one look at his smiling face reminds you that it is.

“So,” Karina clears her throat, gaining your attention. “We should check into our rooms now, and then we can go for a walk and ice cream later?”

Everyone agrees, and so you head to the reception desk in pairs – Karina holding Seuncheol’s hand, and you with Mingyu next to you, your shoulders just barely touching. You get the keys to your room and thank the lady – Mingyu does so with a wide grin that probably just made that woman’s day much better – before you start heading upstairs. There’s only one problem, though – you’ve brought three bags along and now that your uber isn’t helping you carry them, you feel like you’re about to faint from taking three steps with them in your hands – not to mention you have to walk up the stairs with them.

“I’ll carry those for you,” You hear Mingyu’s voice, and before you can utter a word, he’s taking the bags from you with a smirk. “I’m your strong boyfriend, after all.”

You can’t even bring yourself to protest as he starts walking up the stairs with your and his bags, muscles flexed. Your eyes must linger on his arms a little too long, because soon enough, he’s sending you a shit-eating grin and lifting your bags up and down like they’re weights at the gym. It’s a joke – he’s teasing you – and yet it’s making you feel all hot and bothered. God, you must be crazy. Half-embarrassed, you avert your gaze in order to calm your heart down before it beats out of your chest.

“You’re enjoying yourself a little too much for someone who’s carrying four heavy bags up a shitload of stairs, don’t you think?” You try to sound composed, but it doesn’t really work.

“Not at all,” He smiles – you weren’t supposed to look, but it’s not your fault that whenever you hear his voice, all of your attention is on him – yet it doesn’t hide the way his face is reddening and his voice is strained, arms starting to shake just a little from the weight.

You can’t help but burst into laughter at both his face and his stubbornness – that boy would seriously rather die than admit he overestimated his strength. He doesn’t laugh with you, just sends you a glare and pouts as he finally sets down the bags in your shared room as the two of you arrive. No matter how hard he tries, though, he can’t erase the hint of enjoyment that lies in his gaze.

It takes Mingyu less than two seconds to plop onto the soft bed and sigh dreamily, like he’s just ran a marathon.

“Just don’t fall asleep. We’re going for ice cream in half an hour, you know.”

“Hmm.”

“If you fall asleep, I won’t wake you up,” You warn him, ignoring the way your heart is doing loops at the sight of his sleepy state. He looks so cute with a sheepish smile on his face, nose buried in the pillows.

He doesn't react in any way, so you add: “Are you really that exhausted from just carrying my luggage?”

That, he hears very well.

“Of course I’m not,” He jumps up straight away, like someone poured cold water all over him and you can't help but smile to yourself at the way he's – way too obviously – flexing his muscles for you to see.

“I was just joking, Mingyu,” You tell him, walking over to where he's standing, by the bed. “You’re very strong.”

And before you can think twice, you put your hand on his bicep and squeeze it through the shirt. It takes you less than a second to do that, and another second for your mind to start malfunctioning. Oh, fuck. One, you just touched Mingyu’s biceps. Two, they're big. Big, as in you realize you can't even wrap your fingers halfway around them. Big, as in if he were to hold you in place, there was no way you'd be able to move.

And finally, three, this one little touch is enough to have you feeling weak in the knees, unable to think of anything but the way his muscles felt under your fingertips. You can't stop yourself from imagining how they would feel without that shirt separating your skin from his, either. Oh, you've really dug your own grave with this one.

“You think I’m strong?” Mingyu’s voice is soft, but his gaze is intense as you look up at him.

“I– I mean you carried my bags up the stairs, didn't you?”

“Sure did,” He smiles and for a moment, you think you're safe. “But you didn't have to touch me to figure that out, did you?”

Nevermind that. You're not safe at all. In fact, you feel like all the air from your lungs has dissolved, leaving you breathless. Being in love with Kim Mingyu is one thing – making it so painfully obvious is another. What if this makes things awkward between the two of you? You wouldn't be able to stand that. Partly because it ruins your chance of convincing everyone you have a boyfriend, but mostly because you truly enjoy being around Mingyu, and you don't want this… thing you have going on to stop. You having to live without speaking of your crush on him is much better than not speaking to him at all.

“I’m sorry,” You say finally, unsure of what else you could've possibly said to save the situation.

“Why are you apologizing?” He looks at you from above, pushing your hair away from your face before bringing that hand to brush over the part of your shoulder that is exposed by your tank top. You shudder. “I never said that I mind.”

What?

Did he just say what you think he said? ‘I never said that I mind’ – what the fuck is that supposed to mean? That he liked it when you touched him? That he wants you to? He's got to be messing with you. Right? His eyes don't leave yours, though, and while there's a cocky grin on his face, he's nowhere near laughing.

“We should, uh, head downstairs. They're probably waiting for us,” You say, heart hammering in your chest.

“Yeah, we should.”

You wait for him to move, but he doesn't. So you don't, either. You're still dangerously close to him – if he were anyone else, you'd say he was invading your personal space. But he's Mingyu, and the truth is that you want him all up in your personal space. That doesn't change the fact that this is making you nervous – the way he's gazing down on you with a look you can decipher, the way his hand lingers just a couple centimeters away from your arm, the way you can hear his breathing clearly. You want him to do something – anything – because the tension in the air is so thick, you could touch it. But you don't want to touch it, you want to touch him.

And you want him to touch you. Does he want that, too? You don’t want to get your hopes up too much, but you also can’t seem to shake the thought that he looks infatuated with you, too, at this moment. His eyes are lidded, tongue darting to lick at his lips. Not once does he look away. What is he thinking about? Suddenly you wish you were inside his head.

“Y/N, Mingyu, are you guys coming?” Karina's voice from outside the door brings you back to the real world.

Right. You're going for ice cream. Shit, you really need to stay focused. You’re here to have Mingyu pretend to be your boyfriend, not to make him become your real one.

With that in mind, you start walking towards the door. You don’t even make it two steps before you feel Mingyu’s hand grab your wrist, before pulling you back to him. Surely, he doesn’t use all of his strength, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’d have collided with his chest if it wasn’t for the hand that he places on your hip to steady you. Suddenly you're face to face with him again – well, maybe face to chest is more accurate – but you don’t even get to question his actions before his rip on your wrist fades, and he brings his hands up to brush something off of your cheek instead. Then, he lets go altogether.

“You had something on your face,” He explains upon seeing your facial expression.

“Is that why you’re looking at me like that?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. What is up with you today? When did you get so shameless? It must be all the endorphins Mingyu’s providing you with speaking. You’re about to take back what you said, but as usual, Mingyu beats you to it.

“No,” He’s smiling again – running a hand through his hair and flashing his teeth at you. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of his smile. “That’s just because I like you.”

And then he fucking leaves. Like he didn’t just fucking make your heart drop to your stomach and then jump right back up, only to start beating at an abnormal speed. Because I like you. You’re about to faint. At least it feels that way. Are you even breathing? Everything seems so unimportant suddenly, the only image in your head being Mingyu and his smile. Because I like you. His words are on replay in your mind, flowing through your whole body until they reach your heart, where they settle down to bloom. Because I like you. He likes you.

Mingyu likes you.

It’s not a love confession, nor does it mean he wants you to his girlfriend for real, but it’s a confirmation that you didn’t fuck up everything with you reckless actions earlier, and it also means you have a chance. Even if just in the slightest. That’s enough for you.

Well, there goes the plan of not letting yourself get affected by Mingyu’s words and actions, you suppose. Slowly, you fight the urge to start giggling like a schoolgirl and leave the room to meet the others, who are standing in the hallway, waiting for you. Karina looks annoyed as usual, Seungcheol smiles softly, and Mingyu – oh, you could write a whole about how stunning he looks even in the poor lighting of the hotel – grins when he sees you and you can’t help but do the same.

“Finally,” Karina groans, and you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to her, but right then, Mingyu drapes his arm over your shoulders and pulls you close, which erases each and every thought you had before, replacing them with pure elation. He really is driving you crazy.

“Let’s go, then.”

The way to the ice cream shop is merely a fifteen minute walk and it leads through the empty streets that surround your hotel. It’s getting dark already as the four of you head outside, and the cool air is making you regret not putting on a jacket. But hey, in your defense, if Mingyu hadn’t decided to make your whole body grow hot with his actions, maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten about it. It’s alright, though, because Mingyu’s arm around your shoulders is warm and doesn’t leave much room for worrying. Even if he’s just doing it for show. But you don’t need to think about that right now, anyway.

Inside the shop, it’s cozy and warm, which is something you revel in for approximately five seconds before Karina suggests that you eat your ice cream outside. You can’t imagine what’s going through her head when she says that – it’s freezing cold outside, for fuck’s sake – but Mingyu and Seungcheol don’t seem to share your doubts, so you only follow after them with a sigh as they sit down at one of the outdoor tables. The place is cute and the ice cream is good, but you can’t really focus on any of that with the way the cold air is hitting your poor skin. You don’t want to disturb Mingyu when he’s so invested in whatever conversation he’s having, though, so you don’t mention it.

“You okay, Y/N?” It’s Seungcheol that is first to notice your state, his voice laced with concern.

You can see how Mingyu stops talking immediately, turning his head to look at you, too, and you smile apologetically. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little cold.”

Seungcheol smiles at you and starts to take off his jacket, which you’re about to tell him not to do, but Mingyu’s voice cuts through the air before you can even say a word.

“You’re cold?” It’s a question, but he doesn’t wait for an answer before taking off his jacket – that way also effectively putting Seuncheol’s actions to a halt – and putting it around your shoulders. “Here, put this on.”

“It’s oka–”

You don’t even get to finish as he lifts up your arm to slip it inside the sleeve of the jacket. As he reaches for your right arm, you help him and slip it inside of the sleeve yourself, and so his fingers come up to zip the jacket up instead. Your eyes find his when he pushes the zipper up to your neck, hand brushing over your skin as he nudges your hair away so it doesn’t get in the way. His gaze glimmers with satisfaction as he finishes putting on the jacket, as if he just solved a very hard puzzle, and your heart flutters just a little when you look at his grinning face.

“You look cute.”

Well, maybe more than just a little.

“Thanks,” You mumble as you look away, reminded that you’re in fact not alone with Mingyu right now.

A silence settles over the four of you; Karina’s jaw is clenched as she eats her ice cream, while Seungcheol just looks like he’s feeling out of place. You feel a sting of guilt in your chest – they invited you to hang out together, and you’re making this into a way of interacting as much as possible with Mingyu. It’s not fair for them, not to mention it isn’t very good for you, either, because soon enough, he won’t be pretending to be your boyfriend anymore. You should be getting used to not spending time with him, not the other way around.

“So,” Karina says finally, her eyes evidently trained on only Mingyu. “How do you guys like the ice cream?”

‘You guys’, my ass, you think to yourself. She’s literally looking Mingyu right in the eyes, and still acting as if the question is directed at everyone? You kind of feel bad for Seungcheol for having to deal with her on a daily basis.

“It’s really good,” He tells her and Karina sends him her sickly sweet smile. She opens her mouth to say something, but you’ve seen enough of her advances towards Mingyu – though he’s not technically your boyfriend, so you have no right to get jealous. But you do.

“Really? Let me taste,” You say and before you can back out, you grab at Mingyu’s wrist and lick his mint chocolate ice cream.

Okay, so first of all – mint chocolate is disgusting. It tastes awful. You suppose this must be how Mingyu feels each time he walks into a library. Second of all, despite the appalling taste, it’s absolutely worth it because the way Karina’s face turns into an expression of pure defeat is probably the second best thing to happen to you today. The best being every conversation you’ve had with Mingyu, of course.

Speaking of your fake boyfriend – his eyes are set on you as you lean away from him again, something in his gaze sending shivers down your spine. His eyes are wide – you’ve caught him off guard. Good. If he’s going to make your head spin every day, you might as well do the same.

He doesn’t look away, just keeps gazing at you with an intensity that would’ve forced you to sit down if you were standing up. You can see the way his stare drops down to your mouth and then moves up again, his tongue darting to lick at his lips. There’s something in his eyes – something that wasn’t there before. Something that shoots straight down between your legs. Desire, maybe? But not in the primal way, it’s deeper than that, more tender. Yearning. Longing. Something in between. Want. Yes, that’s the word.

“You’ve got ice cream on your lips,” He says it so quietly you almost don’t hear him – which is weird, since it’s Mingyu we’re talking about here.

“Really? Where?”

You’re about to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, but Mingyu’s fingers wrap themselves around your wrist and hold it in place. What is he doing? You look at him – at his parted lips, the hint of a smile lurking on his face, that stare of his that fills you with all kinds of feelings – and your heart stops. He leans forward – you can feel his breath on your face as he looks down on your lips again.

He’s going to kiss you. And you want him to.

You want to keep looking at him, at his smile, his beautiful eyes, but you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering close when his soft lips meet yours. He’s barely touching you, the kiss is merely a brush of skin against skin, but it still drives you crazy, sets your whole body on fire. You can’t move, couldn’t have pushed him away even if you wanted to. But you don’t want to. You want this to last forever, the subtle taste of mint chocolate, the smell of his cologne, the feeling of his tongue brushing over the inner corner of your lips – you don’t want it to end.

But it does end. Far too quickly. He pulls away, with a grin on his face, completely unaware of how badly you want to jump into his arms and kiss him again.

“There.”

You blink. Once. Twice. What is he talking about? Oh, right. The ice cream. He was licking off the ice cream. Your heart beats against your chest painfully hard, serving as a reminder of the situation you’re in. Seungcheol and Karina are still here, and Mingyu just kissed you. You put the pieces together fairly quickly from there – of course he kissed you, he’s supposed to be your boyfriend. It’s more believable that way. Suddenly the taste of mint chocolate that lingers on your tongue stings.

“You guys are so cute together,” Karina smiles her fake smile and something turns in your stomach.

She totally bought it. But so did you.

“I think that’s all thanks to Y/N,” Mingyu’s laugh rings in your ears as his arm falls around your shoulders again. He’s holding you close, but the air’s colder than ever and the smell of his cologne hurts your nose. Not because it smells bad, but because you like it too much.

“Speaking of Y/N, what made you fall for her? I mean, the two of you are so different from each other. On different levels, almost.”

Karina’s words feel like salt in a wound. Different levels. Is that true? Mingyu’s grip tightens on your shoulders, but this action that usually would’ve had you feeling warm inside just barely registers in your mind. Focus, you want to tell yourself, you’re not supposed to feel sad now. You’ll only fuck up the whole plan and your relationship with Mingyu in the process. But you can’t stop your thoughts from reeling and your heart from sinking.

“What do you mean?” If Mingyu knows what Karina’s talking about – which, surely, he must know, since it’s not much of a secret he’s out of your league – he’s doing a great job at pretending he doesn’t. Just like he’s done a great job at pretending to have feelings for you. Almost too great.

“I just don’t get why you chose Y/N,” There it is. “I mean, you could probably have any girl you want.”

He could. You know that. You’ve always known. He’s Kim Mingyu, for fuck’s sake – who wouldn’t fall for that smile of his? You surely did. Though right now, you regret it. You regret asking him to be your fake boyfriend, you regret forming a connection to him, and you regret letting him kiss you like he meant it. It’s your own fault, really. If you’d just let yourself crush on him silently, if you hadn’t gotten your hopes up, thinking he might like you, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have had to sit by his side, feeling like the most naive person on earth.

“I don’t want to have any other girl, though,” You don’t want to look at him, but you do. His smile is long gone, and it feels so weird to look at him without it. Not bad or scary, just different. A new side of him. “I want her.”

Your eyes widen as you look up to meet his gaze. Funny how you’ve spent the last weeks getting to know him, but now, when it really matters, you can’t figure out what’s going on inside his head. He’s looking at you with a shadow of a smile ghosting over his lips, eyes filled with the warmth you’re used to seeing in them, and it doesn’t seem fake at all. Neither did the kiss, or the hug, or any of the signs he’s given you the last weeks. All of it felt real. But what does that matter when it’s all pretend by default, anyway?

A minute passes by in silence. You have so many things to say, but you say nothing at all. Only after that minute has passed and the feeling of Mingyu’s arm around you is too much for your poor heart to handle do you stand up, making everyone look at you. Mingyu’s arm falls limp onto your chair. He’s about to say something, but this time, it’s you that doesn’t let him.

“Excuse me for a moment,” You say and leave them at the shop. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s not just for a moment when you start walking down the street that leads back to the hotel.

You’re still wearing his jacket, you realize, but you don’t take it off. It’s cold – that’s your excuse, but really, you miss him already. Part of you wants to stop walking and see if he’ll come running, but part of you hopes he won’t. You walked away to avoid telling him about all of this – the mess you made by dragging him into this. If you see him now, you’ll end up spilling everything. And he’ll want nothing to do with you ever again.

You make it a whole seven steps before you hear his voice.

“Y/N! Wait!” And against your better judgement, you stop walking until he catches up to you – breath fanning at you from above, yet you can’t seem to look up at him. “There you are. Why are you walking alone in the dark?”

You should go. Leave him behind like you intended to, break off this whole deal and go home. Pretend like Kim Mingyu doesn’t exist, pretend you’re not in love with him. But your feet won’t move. It’s like every bit of doubt and worry you’ve kept inside of you until now is making its way to the surface.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Mingyu’s hand cups your chin and tilts it so your gazes meet. His eyes soften – go from a look of fear to tenderness. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

Yes, you made me fall in love with you, you idiot, you think. But you don’t say it out loud. Instead, you sigh and let your head fall against his chest, eyes fluttering shut. You can tell Mingyu wants to say something – his breath is ragged, muscles tense – but instead, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. One, two, three. You calm yourself down slowly, inhaling his scent. Mingyu isn’t a patient man – you know he wants you to tell him what’s going on. And you will. You owe him that much. But you let yourself revel in his presence for a minute or two first, thinking that if everything goes wrong, at least you’ll have the memory of his strong arms protecting you from any pain.

“Is this about the Karina thing?” You feel the vibrations of his voice through his chest as he speaks and it makes you smile. “You know that what she said is just complete bullshit, right? You shouldn’t care–”

“You’re such an idiot, Kim Mingyu,” You cut him off as you pull away. He looks so shocked at your words that it makes you want to laugh. “You really are. You notice how my hair falls into my face, or how I’m struggling to carry my bags, but you don’t notice the way your words and actions affect me.”

He probably doesn’t know it, but he always pushes his lips out in a pout when he’s confused, and right now is no exception. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” You take a deep breath. “I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. And I know you don’t feel the same way, but you could’ve at least spared me for all your heart-fluttering gestures, because you’re only making me fall harder.”

You thought you’d completely accepted your failure, but the way your heart reaches dramatic speed once you’re done speaking proves you otherwise. Or maybe it’s not hope that has you feeling dizzy – maybe it’s just Mingyu himself. You observe him cautiously after you’ve said it, and slowly, but surely, you see his pout and furrowed eyebrows fade into a smile – a soft one that has his eyes crinkling.

“Who said I don’t feel the same way?” His voice is merely above a whisper as his hand reaches for your cheek, thumb stroking the skin on it. You shiver under his touch, slowly processing his words as his other hand comes to grab at your waist and pull you close. “I like you, remember? A lot.”

“Yes, but you were my fake boyfriend and–”

“Why do you think I agreed to this whole deal, Y/N? I’ve had my eyes on you ever since that party at Soonyoung’s.”

“You agreed because I promised to pay for your meals,” You remind him, heart struggling to beat at a normal speed when you feel his fingers play when his finger moves from stroking your cheek to your jaw.

“It’s not like I can’t pay for my own meals. The hair tie, the library, the flower – do you think I do that to every girl I hang out with? Why do you think I spent time with you when I didn’t have to?”

You swallow as his thumb strokes your lower lip. “I don’t know, because you’re nice like that?”

“Nobody’s just ‘nice like that’, baby,” He smiles that ridiculously gorgeous smile of his as he leans forward to connect his forehead to yours, almost making you faint in the process. He might've kissed you earlier, but this is different. Now he knows everything. “When I said I wanted you, I wasn’t kidding.”

Okay, Y/N, breathe, you tell yourself, but it’s easier said than done. Especially when his breath is mixed with yours, eyes shining with emotion as your noses brush against each other. He wants you. Kim Mingyu wants you. Your heart is beating so hard against your chest you fear he might hear it from where he’s standing, merely a centimeter away. It’s like he’s awaiting your next move. Without thinking much, you put your hands on his shoulder and pull him a bit closer. Just so his lips fan over yours, and butterflies swarm in your stomach. Oh, you want him to kiss you so badly.

It’s like he hears your thoughts, because not even one second later he’s closing the small distance between you and pressing his lips to yours. This time, it’s not just a brush of skin against skin – well, objectively speaking, it is, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s much different from the kiss at the ice cream shop. Now, he’s holding onto you tightly, entangling his fingers in your hair while his lips move against yours fervently. The arm which rests on your waist is pulling you closer, though you doubt you could be any closer to him than what you already are. Your grip on his shoulders is just as firm, the cool air nothing compared to the way your whole body is heating up from his touch.

Mingyu’s teeth scrape against your lower lip and you open your mouth slightly, gripping his bicep tighter when he slips his tongue inside. You can’t even make out what he tastes like – whether it’s mint chocolate, coffee or anything else – you’re too focused on the fact that he’s kissing you, that his hands are pulling you closer as he moves his lips against yours. His fingers pull at your hair just hard enough for you to tilt your head back and allow him to move his lips down to your jaw, tongue darting over the skin. You want to look at him, but you can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut when he starts pressing open-mouthed kisses against your throat, spreading goosebumps all over your skin and you shiver.

For some reason, Mingyu takes this as a sign to pull away, leaving you with chapped lips and breathlessness in his arms.

“Why’d you stop?” It sounds a lot whinier than you’d intended, but who can really blame you? Kim Mingyu just told you he has feelings for you and kissed you, only to let it end this fast – you’re allowed to whine.

“Because you looked cold,” He says and you scoff. Because you looked cold? What kind of excuse is that? He grins at your facial expression, moving his face closer to yours so that for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you again. “Why? Am I so good at kissing that you need more?”

“I literally hate you so much,” You push him away with a scoff, thinking that walking back to the hotel might be a good idea since the cold is starting to catch up with you. Still, you listen for Mingyu’s steps behind you as you walk, only speeding up when you’re certain he’s walking, too.

“That’s mean,” It doesn’t take long for him to catch up with you and walk by your side, shoulder against yours the whole way until the hotel that, fortunately, lies only 100 meters away. “I don’t give kisses to girls that are mean, you know.”

You arrive at the warm hotel fairly quickly and waste no time heading towards your room, acting like you’re eager to crawl under the sheets. In all honesty, you’re more eager to spend time with Mingyu without freezing to death – not that you’ll tell him that. You’ve boosted his ego enough for today, you suppose. Speaking of Mingyu – he walks with you, but you don’t look at him before you’ve entered the room, unable to hold back your smile at the pout that is evident on his face just like it was in his voice earlier.

“And what girls do you give kisses to?” You ask him as you take off your (his) jacket and throw it on the floor. His eyes find yours as he walks over to wrap his arms around you again, and just like every other time he’s touching you, it makes your heart beat faster. Nose brushing against yours, eyes smiling down on you, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. You want to kiss him again.

“You.”

“What?” You laugh at his response, almost missing the way his eyes rest on your lips. Almost. “That makes no sen–”

You’re cut off by his lips pressing against yours for a mere second, soft and sweet for as long as you can taste them, and then he pulls away with a wide grin on his face. And you can’t even bring yourself to get mad at him for pulling away when he looks so fucking cute looking down on you, hair falling into his eyes a little.

“I love you,” He says after a while, and it’s like there are fireworks going off inside of you. You could’ve died from happiness right then and there.

“I love you, too.”

“Let’s go to sleep, baby.”

You nod your head, half in a daze. He loves you. Kim Mingyu loves you. And he doesn’t dissappear when you’re in the bathroom, changing, he’s still there when you come out – sitting on the bed, waiting for you. You smile at him and he smiles at you, hands latching onto your shirt and pulling you down next to him. He pulls you closer, legs entangled with yours under the covers as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

This night you fall asleep between Mingyu’s arms, breathing in his scent and feeling completely at ease.

—

The sunlight shining through the window is what wakes you up the following morning, inviting you to open your eyes only to screw them shut again. It’s way too early for that much light, you decide, rubbing your eyes before you realize it is, in fact, already almost noon. God, you’ve slept in. You almost get the urge to get ready for school, but then you remember – you’re at the seaside resort with Karina and Seungcheol. And Mingyu. You smile as you think of him, reaching to your left to touch him, but you’re only met with warm bedding underneath your fingers.

For a scary second, you worry that he’s left, or maybe even worse – that all the things you remember from yesterday never happened and it was just a dream. Fortunately, those worries evaporate when the door to the bathroom that is connected to your room flies open and none other than Mingyu himself walks out.

Which is great and all – except that he has a towel wrapped around his waist. Only a towel.

You try to divert your eyes, you really do, but it’s really fucking difficult when he’s standing two meters away from you with water dripping down his exposed chest to slip under the white towel that is the only thing shielding him from your sight. His hair is wet, too, falling into his forehead until he pushes it away, his arm muscles accentuated by the lighting. God, looking this good should be illegal. It’s not like it’s anything new that Mingyu’s hot, and yet the sight stirs up a heat between your legs, heart beating a little faster as you sit up on the bed, finally forcing yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Oh, hey,” He catches your gaze and flexes his muscles instantly – something that might’ve just made you laugh if it didn’t shoot straight to your pussy. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah, well, um,” You gulp a little too loud when you catch yourself looking down on his bare chest again. You need to focus, you think to yourself, closing your eyes briefly to collect your thoughts. “I don’t usually sleep this long.”

“Mhm,” You see him smile and then the bed bends under his weight as he plops down on it, arms reaching for you and pulling you close with ease. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, lips fanning over the skin and making you shiver softly. All cute and all, except he’s still only wearing a towel and the warmth of his body is making you you lose your mind a little. “And do you usually look at people like that?”

Like what, you’re about to ask, but the words die down in your throat when you feel his big hands slip under your shirt and rest on your waist, and you know he knows you want him. It’s kind of embarrasing how big of an effect even his slightest touch has on you, but who can really blame you for feeling all hot and bothered when Kim Mingyu is lying in bed with you, his chest against yours and hips only a few centimeters away from meeting his? He smells so nice, too – the scent of his shampoo is making it impossible for you to even think about leaving his embrace.

“No,” You whisper instead, breath hitching when he lifts you up to place you in his lap. He’s leaning against the headboard now, finger still firmly gripping your waist as he leaps forward to plant a soft kiss to your neck.

“No?” He says this against the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his hands travel higher and higher until they fan over the back of your bra, asking for permission to take it off. You give it to him by pushing your chest out against him, hands grabbing at his arms under the excuse of keeping yourself steady. Though, in reality, you just really like his arms, and the feeling of his muscles beneath your fingers only serves to help a throb form between your legs.

“No, just you,” You basically moan out as his right hand gropes one of your tits, bra thrown onto the floor.

“Just me?”

He smiles against you, now pressing a kiss to your jaw, pushing himself up against you to reach more of your skin, and in that way, causing his hips to brush up against yours. Your grip on his shoulders tightens at the contact and so does the coil in your stomach – you might be wearing shorts and the towel is still wrapped around Mingyu’s hips, but that doesn’t change the fact that you can clearly feel how his hard cock is pressing into the side of your inner thigh, mere centimeters from where you want it to be.

It’s like he reads your thoughts, because in the next moment, he’s lifting his hips again so his clothed cock brushes up against you, and judging from the satisfied smile that settles onto his face when you gasp, he’s doing it on purpose. You can’t even say anything when his hand rests on your hip and pushes you down on his bulge, this time successfully rubbing against your clit.

God, you’re going to go crazy if the two of you keep pretending this is a normal cuddling session any longer. At this point, you’re positive both your panties and shorts are completely soaked, not to mention how painfully your pussy is throbbing with need – the need for Kim Mingyu to fuck you.

“Mingyu…”

“Mmm?” He hums absentmindedly, fingers moving lower until they rest against the waistband of your panties.

You only whine at him in response, deciding to take matters into your own hands when you see his amused smile, your hips rolling into his and your pussy clenching around nothing when it rubs against his cock. You can feel how his fingers dig into your skin, a soft moan escaping past his lips at the touch and you know you've won.

“What happened to the cute, shy Y/N?” He’s still smiling as he speaks, letting his hand push your panties aside and hover just a centimeter away from your dripping pussy. It makes you suck in a breath, and Mingyu smiles even wider. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I’m still here,” You assure him, moving your hips just a little forward so they reach his hand. It takes all in you not to outright whimper when the palm of his hand grazes your cunt, the slight sensation enough to make your whole body go limp in his arms, your mouth resting close to his ear. “I just really want you to fuck me right now.”

And that’s all Mingyu needs to hear before he basically manhandles you so your back is flat against the mattress, the towel slipping dangerously low on his hips as he hovers above you with his chest against yours. You shiver underneath him, nipples pressing against the thin shirt you're still wearing, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve yourself of some of the tension. Mingyu doesn't fail to notice any of that, quick to practically rip your shirt off and play with your tits with one hand, while the other pulls down your shorts and panties so he can press one finger flat against your clit.

“Mingyu,” You moan out, lifting your hips off of the bed to create some friction. “Please.”

“God, you're so eager,” He grins and runs his fingers over your tits as he starts moving his thumb across your pussy, smiling in satisfaction when he sees how you're practically dripping onto his hand. “And so wet. Is that just for me, baby?”

You can't even give him an answer when he pushes one of his fingers inside of you, still letting his thumb press against your clit. A whimper leaves your mouth when he pulls it out only to push it back in a second later, setting a quick pace pretty quickly. The room is already filled with the noises your cunt makes when he fucks his finger into you, adding another when he realizes you're still bucking your hips up, begging for more. His thumb starts lazily rubbing circles on your clit, and you moan his name, then bite your lip to muffle the noise.

“Don’t,” The way Mingyu pouts is a big contrast to the way his fingers curl inside of you as he pushes them deeper into your wet cunt. “Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make, okay?”

“Okay,” You whimper, tightening your grip on him when the finger rubbing your clit speeds up and he presses wet kisses into your neck, then down to your tits and stomach.

His hand that isn’t busy fucking you with his fingers settles on your hip as his mouth reaches your inner thighs. He kisses them softly and looks up at you, eyes dark and hair framing his face so nicely, before he dives between your legs, catcing you off guard when his fingers slip out of you, only to be replaced by his tongue that laps up your juices while he continues rubbing your now swollen clit.

“Feels so good, Gyu,” You say and you can feel him moan against your pussy, the sound sending vibrations straight to your core. It's embarrassing how close you are to cumming already, but in your defense, Mingyu knows exactly what he's doing when he drags his nose through your folds, letting one of his fingers slip through your walls again. You grab at his hair, not trying to hold back your moans anymore as his tongue presses against your clit.

“You taste so good,” He purrs against you, making you cry out in pleasure when his fingers hit that one spot that makes your toes curl.

It's all too much to handle – the way his finger is leaving and entering your pussy at a fast speed, plunging deep inside of you as he sucks on your clit – it's got your thighs closing around his head, hands pulling at his hair to bring him closer like that's even possible. You’re so focused on chasing your orgasm, that you almost don’t notice when he adds another finger to pump in and out of your cunt, making you feel so full that your eyes roll to the back of your head and you clench around him repeatedly.

You don't even get to warn Mingyu of your approaching high in any other way than holding tight onto his strong arms as your pussy clamps down on his fingers, your hips bucking into his face. The intensity of your orgasm has you grabbing at the sheets as you cum on his tongue and fingers, feeling a little empty when he retracts his hand from your heat.

“Mingyu,” You whine from overstimulation when his tongue laps at your pussy again, licking up all your juices before he sits up.

“Sorry,” Mingyu smiles in a way that tells you he doesn’t feel sorry at all, and waits until you prop yourself up on your elbows so he can kiss you.

You can taste yourself on his tongue when it slips inside of your mouth, but what occupies your mind more is the way he’s still got the towel wrapped around his hips, and his painfully hard cock is now pressed against your thigh, reminding you just how badly you want it inside of you. It doesn’t exactly help the case that Mingyu’s looking even hotter than before – his hair pretty much dry now, but completely disheveled, chin glistening with your slick.

Before you can get the chance to back down, you put your hand on his chest and let it trace his muscles until you reach where the towel is tied. Mingyu basically purrs into your mouth when you palm his cock over the fabric, his head falling onto your shoulder.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” He mumbles into your ear and you feel his words shoot straight to your pussy. “You want that, don't you?”

“Mhm,” You tell him as he pushes you down on the mattress again, your hands coming up to finally untie the towel that's shielding him from your hungry eyes. “Want your cock, Mingyu, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

He helps you push the towel off of his hips and groans when his cock springs free – it's a pretty sound that would've totally made you feel even needier if you weren't too occupied staring at him with wide eyes instead. You can tell from his growing smile that you're only feeding into his ego, but you can't really help it – his cock is not only pretty, it's also really fucking big.

“Aw, are you scared it won't fit?” His thumb strokes your lip and you can see how his arm muscles tighten when he leans on them to align himself at your entrance. “Don’t worry, baby, I'll make sure it does.”

You shiver when the tip of his dick grazes your cunt, his arm helping you to wrap your legs around his hips. His breath fans over your face as he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, and you feel both butterflies and heat spread in your lower stomach at the action. God, he really wants you dead. The smile on his face doesn't subside even as he starts rubbing his cock across your folds without warning, making you grab at his arms, moans leaving your mouth no matter how hard you try to hold them back each time he comes in contact with your clit.

To your defense, you weren't exactly expecting him to suddenly start smearing your arousal all over your swollen cunt.

His movements work wonders, though, and soon enough, you're clenching around nothing with each roll of his hips, dripping onto his cock like he's been touching you'd hours, when in reality, it only took five or so swipes of his dick to bring you to this state.

“Mingyu, please,” If his goal was to have you become a whining mess, he's definitely reached it, because now, all sense of embarrassment is thrown aside. “I want you inside of me.”

“Are you sure you can take it?” He asks, but you can tell he's just as eager as you when he positions himself at your entrance.

You nod vigorously and that's all the confirmation he needs to drive his cock into you slowly. He's trying to be gentle – you can tell from the way his lips are parted and his big hands grip your waist tighter – but that doesn't change the fact that he's stretching you out like crazy, small whimpers leaving your mouth as you try to adjust to his size. You've barely gotten used to having him inside of you when you realize he hasn't even pushed all the way in. You're already feeling incredibly full, but nothing beats the way you feel Mingyu’s cock deep inside of you when he finally bottoms out, your pussy sucking him in.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” Mingyu groans and you only clench around him harder at the praise, feeling your mind go a little hazy at how stuffed you are with his cock. “Making me wanna fuck you dumb.”

Do it then, you want to tell him, but then he starts moving and all plans you had of speaking turn into quiet whimpers as you dig your nails into his skin. He’s moving painfully slowly, but it’s still making your head spin when he pulls out only to push himself back into your tight cunt, stretching you out and making you feel every bit of his cock clearly.

At first, you manage to keep your eyes on Mingyu – the way his abdominal muscles flex with each leisure thrust, making you whimper a little louder than you would’ve otherwise, the way his cock creates a bulge in your stomach when he buries it deep inside of you, the way his mouth falls open in a groan whenever your walls tighten around him. After a while, though, you can tell he wants to go faster and truthfully – you want him to,

“Mingyu,” You mumble, tapping his shoulder lightly. He only hums absentmindedly in response, but his eyes meet yours, so you continue. “More, please.”

“More?” His eyes light up and he thrusts a little harder this time, experimentally, smiling when you let out a broken moan. “Yeah? Feels good?”

“Mhm,” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut when he draws his hips back only to push into you again, this time deep enough so that you feel him all the way to your stomach.

Satisfied with your answer, Mingyu positions your leg higher on his hip so he can thrust into you at a deeper angle – something that leaves you seeing stars when he picks up his pace, fucking you into the matress. Your hands grab at his arms to steady yourself while his hand cups your tits, face leaning forward to press open mouthed kisses to your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin softly.

“Feels so fucking good, baby,” He mumbles into your neck, sending shivers down your body and making you clench around him harder.

The coil in your stomach starts to tighten and your eyes roll to the back of your head as Mingyu hits that one spot that makes your toes curl in pleasure. He doesn’t miss your louder moans, smiling to himself as he continues to hit that spot, sucking marks into your skin. His thrusts are fast but far from shallow, making your mind go foggy, not able to focus on anything but the way he’s fucking you so good. You bury your hands in his hair, forgetting all about being embarrassed and whimpering his name with each thrust that pushes you closer to your orgasm.

“Mingyu,” You say. “I’m so close.”

This only urges him to go harder, now bringing his thumb to rub circles on your clit as well, the action making you almost scream his name, thighs starting to shake. You don’t even have to hold onto him anymore – which is good, because you’re unable to think of anything else than how his cock slips in and out of your sopping cunt – because his strong arms are holding you up, fingers sliding easily across your sensitive clit. Your pussy is clenching around him uncontrollably now, tears starting to prickle at your eyes from the stimulation and you almost don’t register the things he’s whispering into your ear with a hoarse voice.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, taking everything I give you.”

You nod your head dumbly and clench around him in response, unable to really gather your thoughts to form any sentence, but Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind, hand coming to grab at your hips and push them against him so he can reach deeper into your pussy. This is when you can’t hold it in anymore, a loud moan of his name leaving your lips as you cum around his cock, sucking him in tightly as if you don’t want him to pull out.

You can feel Mingyu’s smile against your neck as he continues to pound into you as you’re trying to recover from your second orgasm, chasing his own high. Whimpering from the overstimulation, you hold onto him as he twitches inside of you. It doesn’t take long before he’s moaning right into your ear – a sound that makes your breath hitch in your throat – and emptying his cum into you.

“Fuck,” He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of contact. This makes him smile – his signature grin looking even better on him than usually, with his cheeks flushed and droplets of sweat forming on his exposed forehead. “You did so well, baby.”

You can feel butterflies swarming in your stomach at the praise, face contorting into a tired smile when he lies down next to you, strong arms pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest. His warmth engulfs you and you realize you’d have no problem falling asleep between his arms right now.

“That was really amazing, you know,” He says and looks down on you.

“I know,” You press a kiss to his jaw. “Round two in thirty minutes?”

Mingyu’s laughter fills not only the room, but your heart as well.

“That’s my girl.”

taglist: @fixonbreakoff @httpswonwoosglasses @miniaturegardenerkingdom @xxtingz @yuyusdandelion @listxn @seungkwan-s @doublebunnykoo @gyuwhore @014yyuno @seokgyustudios @idkwhatursayinh @yaysuko @doitlikehoshi @sebongmochi

#mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu x reader #svt smut

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seuonji · 10 months

Text

彡 in your favour, i’m in your arms. — choi seungcheol

notes ๑ gn!reader, college setting. guest appearance, jeon wonwoo & kim mingyu. yn’s circle: soonyoung and seungkwan / seungcheol’s circle: jeonghan and joshua!! unrequited love occurs.

genre ๑ fwb/situationship to lovers, angst, fluff.

warnings ๑ physical affection (kissing (part eleven), sleeping in each other’s bed), characters getting drunk, mentions of eating. possessive characters. (lmk if i missed any!!<3)

word count ๑ 12k

from aya: reblog if you enjoyed! i’ve been working on this for 3 months. i hope you enjoy :(；ﾞﾟ'ωﾟ'):.

one, current location — cheol’s apartment.

your phone buzzed and your phone screen lit signing you got a notification. you knew who it was from cause everyone else was muted. “mm— cheol—“ you struggled in between kisses wanting to part so you could read the message. he sighed and only parted his lips yet his face was still close and his hands were on your hips, “yea?” his eyes were on you, and yours was on the text message you just received.

”give me a second, let me reply to this guy,” you moved away from him and unlocked your phone. seungcheol stood at the side and rested his arm on the counter behind you.

you read the text and smiled softly. the text was from a guy you’ve been talking to in class, jeon wonwoo. his text read, “hey, i’m free tomorrow after the class we have together, we can meet up then?”

he was responding to something you said earlier where you asked if he was interested in getting coffee or lunch with you. he said yes but he needed to check his schedule first. he then asked for your phone number so he could message you and let you know.

as you read his response you instantly felt the need to talk about it to your friends. “i gotta go,” you hopped off the stool you were sitting on and gathered your things in a rush, “can you unlock the door please?”

“huh? where are you going?” cheol furrowed his eyebrows and reached out for you arm but you moved too quick, placing your shoes on already. you always stayed until dinner but you had to cut your time with him short. “i’m gonna meet kwan and kwon!” you smiled brightly. your smile brought a warmth to him that no one else could. usually he’d convince you to stay but it seemed like it was an emergency?

“alright take care of yourself okay? tell me when you get back home,” seungcheol opened the door of his apartment and stood against the frame with his arms crossed. “always will! sorry you have to eat dinner alone,” you finished getting your shoes on and stood up.

he tilted his head in confusion and adoration for how you felt bad over something like that. giving you a kiss on the forehead he affirmed, “i think han and shua should be coming home soon but even if they weren’t, it’s okay.” you exchanged your goodbyes and you walked to the elevator simultaneously texting your friends you’d be on your way to their place.

「kwan: 👍」

two, current location — kwan and kwon’s.

you ringed the doorbell and didn’t get a response for a few seconds. you turned the doorknob just to try and it turned all the way meaning it was unlocked. you sighed, “soonyoung!” the two were on their couch totally immersed in the k-drama they were watching so they barely noticed you.

seungkwan turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you. “oh my god-“ he smacked soonyoung’s head. “what!” soonyoung rubbed his head. “you forgot to lock the door? again?” you stomped in frustrated.

“we are actually going to have a burglary and murder case one day,” seungkwan points out as he’s still hitting soonyoung. recently soonyoung has been forgetting to lock the doors of their apartment and it’s becoming a problem.

after the two settled they welcomed you in and poured you a glass of your favourite drink. they bought a carton specially for you. “so what’s up, what story do you have for us today?” seungkwan sat down beside you on the couch.

“you will not guess who i got a date with!” you shifted your position to face the two.

soonyoung looked at you puzzled but based on your excitement, it had to be someone weird, “yoon jeonghan?”

you denied quickly, “no? jeonghan and i would never work out.”

“damn, so you’ve thought about it,” seungkwan rested his chin on his hand in disbelief. “i had to! we played truth or dare and jeonghan asked me if i’d date him! that apartment is like a frat house.”

they snickered at the story, “is it xu minghao?” seungkwan continued.

“oh my god do you think i can get with the xu minghao?”

“no not really.”

you ignored him and showed the text from wonwoo.

“jeon wonwoo!?” soonyoung shouted, “pro gamer jeon wonwoo!?” “the nerdy guy that sits behind you in that one class!?” seungkwan jumped in his seat.

“nerd? i'm pretty sure he benches more than you!?” you argued.

“he does?” soonyoung covered his mouth from shock. “nerdy has nothing to do with the gym,” seungkwan rolled his eyes.

“why is it such a shock? isn’t he hot?”

“hot? i guess but your type? i didn’t think so,” soonyoung squinted his eyes as if he was trying to picture you two together.

seungkwan stood up, hands on his head as if it’s a crisis situation, “how did this even happen?”

you just giggled and shrugged your shoulders, “i don’t know, i’ve talked to him a couple times and i made him laugh one time, next thing i knew, i was asking him out and he said yes.”

seungkwan snorted and teased, “you made him laugh one time? were you pointing a gun at his head that one time?” you hit him with a pillow multiple times.

“so are you letting go of seungcheol?” seungkwan looked at you intently, “wonwoo does not seem like the type who would be okay with your…habits? current routine?” referring to the way you were practically sleeping in seungcheol’s bed every night.

your eyes bounced around the house. if you were being honest, you liked seungcheol and seungcheol was undeniably smitten with you.

but that’s as far as you two go.

it became clear you guys weren’t exclusive when he had no reaction to you going out with someone else that wasn’t him. the zero signs of care in his eyes when you walked by him with the new guy made you understand that he only needed you there for the convenience and to fill the void of affection.

and so you silently told everyone that’s what you wanted as well. at the very least, it wasn’t as heartless as other friends with benefits existing out there, he cared about you and that’s what made it so hard to leave. but eventually, you grew out of it. you wanted to put a label on something.

bottom line, you wanted more.

perhaps that’s why wonwoo was so exciting to you. it’s something new. he’s someone that potentially wants what you want.

soonyoung nodded in agreement, “right? like he seems like he’s into long term, that kind of stuff.”

“guys i haven’t even went out with him yet!” you wailed. “give it awhile then maybe we can start looking further than just friends, you know?”

“of course, of course,” seungkwan raised his eyebrows quietly processing everything.

soonyoung who was sitting on the floor shifted closer to you and rested his cheek on your knee, “what’re you wearing tomorrow?” “omg i don’t know! let’s go plan,” you grabbed him and seungkwan and ran to the guest room where you left some of your clothes in case you stay the night.

three, current location — seungcheol, jeonghan & joshua’s apartment.

the sound of the door unlocking echoed into the apartment. “we’re home!” jeonghan and joshua lugged into the space. they were seungcheol’s roommates or more like parasites—

“welcome home, what do you guys wanna eat?” seungcheol got up from the couch. “we can just order today,” jeonghan said before walking into his room to freshen up.

“no yn?” joshua looked around. “no they had to leave to meet up with soonyoung and seungkwan, seemed urgent.”

“urgent?” joshua tilted his head. “yea why?” “the last time yn left for an ‘urgent’ reason, it was cause they started going out with that kim mingyu guy?”

seungcheol scrolled on his phone looking for food to order completely uninterested in the conversation “and?”

“and then you told mingyu to fuck off so mingyu cut ties with yn?” joshua passive-aggressively recalled.

“yeaa, that was funny he didn’t stand a chance with yn, he didn’t even try,” seungcheol scoffed.

joshua looked at seungcheol with a touch of flame in his eyes, “don’t you think you’re being unfair to yn?”

“what do you mean?”

“just asking, have you ever genuinely asked them what they wanted? if they ever wanted to have something more than a friends with benefits?”

“why do you think yn wants that?”

“oh i don’t know, maybe with the fact that despite being with you they’re still trying to see other people? yn and mingyu were a great couple until you crashed it.”

“the fact they came back to me after that, kinda makes it clear they didn’t like him all that much.”

“what are you gonna do when one day they don’t come back?” joshua crossed his arms.

seungcheol looked up from his phone, “why do you care?”

joshua rolled his eyes and started walking to the fridge, “i get it, you two aren’t in a relationship but you and i know you care about yn. i don’t want you to regret something you do or didn’t do in the future.”

seungcheol just exhaled and raised his brows, “alright.”

“so what have you ordered!” jeonghan walked out of his room excitedly. as he noticed the tension in the air he instantly knew, they were talking about you.

jeonghan sighed and went by seungcheol who was aimlessly still looking for food. then, he looked at joshua who seemed to be in heavy spirits.

things that jeonghan knew: jeonghan knew or atleast suspected that seungcheol has feelings for you. jeonghan also knew that joshua was struggling to keep something from seungcheol, something you told him.

—

one night where you stayed over and you all drank, you got drunk but so did seungcheol. you ended up sleeping in joshua’s bed so that he could monitor you. joshua was looking for a trash bag in case you had to throw up while jeonghan was preparing you for sleep. as jeonghan wiped your body with a damp cloth, you happened to utter,

“i really love cheol. i can’t believe we’re just watered down to friends with benefits.”

they both heard it. joshua just stroked your hair with his hands until you were fully asleep.

he couldn’t lie, since then he’s been frustrated cause he knew how good your heart is. as close as he is with cheol, he can’t help but think, isn’t your relationship with cheol was holding you back?

but honestly he felt that you two would end up together one way or another, any interference might mess things up. in the end, the sober two came to the mental agreement it was your situation to deal with.

—

“you are taking too long! order fried chicken and let’s do karaoke today!” jeonghan tried to lighten up the mood. “sorry, grandpa’s struggling to see his screen with his poor eyesight,” joshua targeted to seungcheol. “you didn’t even try to help!” the eldest retorted. joshua laughed at his reaction and got up to set up the living room so that they could watch shows and eat.

at the end of the day they were each other’s rock. joshua was just scared for your feelings with seungcheol’s unpredictable actions.

four, current location — college.

you could barely pay attention in class knowing that you were going to go out with wonwoo in a few minutes. you have gone on a ton of dates before but for some reason this one was exciting. it was going to be different from the rest.

the class soon ended and wonwoo stood by your table, “hey.”

“hi!” you greeted him back. “so i was thinking we can go to this restaurant but it’s kinda far.” “it’s okay i have a car,” he smiled wiggling his keys in his hand.

not like it was rare for college students to have a car but you just thought he was extremely cool that your jaw almost dropped from his actions. wonwoo tilted his head to the door, “come, let’s go, send me the location by the way.” you nodded and skipped to his side.

you both got to the parking lot and he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. “thanks,” you said before he closed the door. he was sweet. you didn’t even talk about this being a date but he was certainly treating it like one.

wonwoo got into the car and you went on your phone to send the location of the restaurant. wonwoo was looking to his left where you were sitting and you thought maybe he was staring at you. you did spend around two hours matching clothes you left in seungkwan and soonyoung’s place. you were so close to just going home to look at other clothes but they didn’t let you since it was late at night—

“yn?” “yea?” “do you know them?” he pointed to the window at your side.

low and behold, the devil and the angel, jeonghan and joshua in the car beside you who were practically staring you down out of shock.

you got shocked yourself but thought nothing of it as you lowered your window, “hey!” you casually greeted. “yn! where’re you going?” joshua returned to you.

“gonna go to my favourite restaurant, oh by the way this is wonwoo,” you introduced.

“ah yea, i think i have… one class with you?” jeonghan squinted to the guy behind you. “i think so?” wonwoo pursed his lips.

“well you two have fun, yn are you gonna have dinner at ours later?” joshua asked.

“uhm,” you gave a glance to wonwoo who just gave a soft smile while raising his eyebrows. “i don’t think i will, maybe next time tho!” you rejected.

“ahh gotcha,” jeonghan replied while resting his body on the wheel.

you waved at them saying your goodbyes and closed your window. soon enough wonwoo drove out of the parking.

“you often have dinners at their place?” wonwoo asked curious. “yea, sometimes.” more like you practically live there.

“sounds fun.”

“it is! it’s a really nice way to let off some steam from all of the college stress,” you laughed

what would wonwoo think if he knew what you were actually there for. would wonwoo still go out with you?

“did you get a photo of them?” jeonghan peeked at joshua’s phone.

“yup, goodluck to seungcheol,” joshua lightly giggled while looking his screen.

five, current location — kwan and kwon’s.

you crashed into the apartment, you don't even know if soonyoung locked the door, “guys i just had the best date ever!”

there was one guy sitting at the center table they had for meals who looked quite reckless and overwhelmed with all of the papers around him, “yn….it is almost midnight,” seungkwan glared.

“bad time?” you asked, backing up.

“nope, i was actually waiting for you so that i had an excuse when i don’t pass up my work tomorrow,” he said getting up and dragging his blanket to the couch.

“what are you gonna say when your teacher asks why you didn't do it?”

“soonyoung ate it.”

you just pursed your lips and nodded simultaneously and suddenly soonyoung’s door swung opened, “is that yn i hear?”

you peaked your head to the hall showing you were present and in an instant, soonyoung ran to the couch, “spill.”

“oh my gosh he's so cool like he owns a car and he drives it!” “wow,” seungkwan says unimpressed.

you looked at him up and down before continuing, “we ate at my favorite restaurant and he said he'd order whatever i recommended and he liked my recommendation!” “i thought this was the best date ever but it's really just starting off like any other date.”

"go back and do your work if you're gonna be such a hater!" you stood up. "continue!! just ignore him!" soonyoung demanded, pulling you down.

"after that, we just walked around a park nearby and we just talked and got to know each other. we're not alike but we can agree on so much!" "oh that's actually very sweet." seungkwan commented.

it was sweet.

you got out of your head and finished explaining your day, "eventually he got tired and so we went back to his car and we talked more but it was getting late so i asked him to send me here but on our way here he kept taking the wrong turn, on purpose!" you recalled. it made you laugh just thinking about it.

"where do you find these guys," soonyoung squinted his eyes. it genuinely felt like a romance from a movie no matter how you see it. "manifesting?" you joked.

"well i'm happy you're happy," seungkwan patted your head. you laid your head on his shoulder, "i am."

it was just the first hangout yet you've never felt happier.

or is that just what you wanted to believe and feel?

the next day you woke up in their guest room and used your phone. there you found a notification.

「12:09am wonwoo: do you wanna go out tmr?

7:29am yn: hey! sorry just woke up! but yes, let’s go!

wonwoo: it's kinda late?? are you ready for class?

yn: oops

yn: it's okay they won't miss me.

wonwoo: are you in the same building i dropped you off at yesterday?

yn: yea, why?

wonwoo: i'm picking you up. go get ready.」

six, current location — seungcheol, jeonghan & joshua’s apartment.

"seungcheol. hey!" the pillow made a comically 'puff!' sound effect as jeonghan hit his oversleeping roommate up. "you're gonna be late, again, get going," his roommate sighed. for the past two days seungcheol had been waking up without you in his bed. that meant, no human alarm clock. he was like a child who needed his mother to wake him up...as weird as that analogy might sound but it was true. seungcheol sat up, eyes still closed.

"by the way, joshua and i are planning to have bbq tonight, is yn coming? i wanna know how much i have to buy."

"i'll send them a text."

"alsoo, why didn't yn come over yesterday?" jeonghan leaned on the doorframe and asked before leaving. "yesterday? they messaged me saying they had a project."

if seungcheol's eyes were open, he'd be able to see jeonghan's bewildered reaction. you lied about your whereabouts, but for what? jeonghan silently kept his composure and reminded, "alright, well let me know about yn at least before 4pm," before running to joshua's room to report the news.

seungcheol lazily grabbed his phone from his bedside table and searched for your contact to message. it was a foreign feeling, he almost never texted you. ever since you two started wherever you had, you were always with him, except for when you were with mingyu of course, not like that lasted long.

「cheol: you coming over today?

cheol: were having bbq.」

six.5, current location — wonwoo’s car.

“i think you should invest in those fancy biometric door locks, at least those lock automatically,” wonwoo suggested after you explained all of the times soonyoung forgot to lock his apartment door out of pure stress. he was amazingly entertained by your stories.

you wheezed, “oh my gosh- that’s so smart actually, i’m gonna tell that to them!” you got your phone out to text your group chat with soonyoung and seungkwan, until you saw notifications from him.

「cheol: you coming over today?

cheol: were having bbq.

cheol: think the guys miss you, they keep asking where you are.

cheol: think i miss you too, it's been hard waking up alone.

cheol: hope you finish your project soon.」

you clicked on your chatroom with seungkwan and soonyoung. afterwards, you cleared your notifications.

"so where are we going later?" you turned to wonwoo.

"i don't know actually i didn't know i was going to pick you up in the morning, i was going to brainstorm where i should take you when i got to class."

you blurted a laugh, "brainstorming a date when you should be paying attention in class"

"oh it's a date?" he glanced at you then back to the road. you covered your mouth, you kept calling your outings with wonwoo a date when you were with seungkwan and soonyoung, it just slipped out. "i’m just playing with you," he stated.

you scoffed and leaned into your seat, "so what are your ideas for later?" "i don't know, i haven't gotten to class yet," he shrugged his shoulders. you playfully rolled your eyes, "don't think about it too much, listen to your lecturer. i don't want to be the cause of you failing your classes."

"little late for that, i literally skipped my study group to hang out with you yesterday," he admitted.

you shot back up, "wonwoo!" you said in a whiney tone. he held back a smile as you scolded him for his lack of seriousness towards his school life. it lasted the whole ride until you reached campus.

little did you know, wonwoo had been eyeing you for a while. of course, he'd skip a class or two just to hangout with you. luckily, he found being with you worth the skip.

seven , current location — yn’s favourite cafe.

few days had passed and you still haven’t replied to cheol's messages. maybe you can live a life without him.

"order for yn!" joshua called out brightly, he got excited when he got a glimpse of your name on the cup that held the contents of your signature drink. he didn't think he'd see you today at his part-time job, you usually only came on weekends or in the late hours of the weekdays. he hadn't seen your face in a while and he honestly missed your presence in the apartment.

until he realised it was in fact not you ordering.

his expression changed in a flicker of a switch, "what the hell are you doing cheol?"

seungcheol raised a brow, "i'm ordering?"

"ordering yn's usual drink under their name? do you miss them that much that you have turned to impersonating them?" joshua pushed the cup towards his friend.

"i'm not weird like that, i’m gonna give it to them if i can find them today."

the barista created an 'o' with his mouth, he was proud of the effort. he carefully packed your drink into a bag and stuffed in the straw and some tissues. he even snuck in a free lollipop of your favourite flavour before lightly pushing the bag to cheol, "yn's class is a completely opposite to your building, sure you can make it?"

seungcheol scoffed, "of course."

joshua had his elbows on the counter, face resting on his hand. "have fun then, say hi to yn for me," he said in a teasing manner.

seungcheol nodded lazily and got on his phone after waving goodbye to his roommate.

seven.5 , current location — outside your class.

tapping away at your phone, you leaned on the wall outside the class you just finished. it was your last class so you were free for the day but wonwoo’s class was running longer than yours so you had to wait.

he had messaged you saying that he would be the one to go to you and you had no objections since you didn’t even know where his class was anyways. soon as you replied to wonwoo, you heard a familiar voice, a voice you recognised all too well.

“yn,” cheol quietly called out to get your attention.

you instantly stood up straight and placed your phone into your pocket, “cheol? what’s up!…what are you doing here?” your tone sounded mildly excited but astonished at the same time. you furrowed your eyebrows knowing his next class was located on the opposite side of the campus, yet he was here, you couldn't help but question it. “just dropping this off,” he subdued a smile while extending his arm to give you the drink. “hope it gives you energy during your project, how’s that going by the way?”

you held the drink in one hand and the other held tissues cheol provided. your heart sunk as he mentioned the project but you still continued the lie. “wow thanks, this is so sweet cheol! and the projects going well but we’re kinda slow,” you let out a breathy laugh.

“well don’t burn yourself out. if ever you need a break, my door is always open,” he gently reminded. “anyways, i gotta get to class. tell me if you need anything alright, we may not be under the same major but i could probably assist.”

“psh, of course, i have your number.”

he patted your head before leaving. as he walked past you, you got a whiff of his scent. it was a prominent smell, it was easy on your nose and you hate to admit but it was comforting. you felt your chest burn as he disappears from your sight. your heartbeat was rising and you knew it was because of him. time how does he manage to make you feel like this all the time.

you brought the drink closer to your chest and let out a sigh. you read the label which had the contents of your drink printed on. it was completely accurate to what you always order. only cheol could ever remember it. as you took a sip from the drink you started to wonder why you were avoiding him. should you come over tonight? you thought about it until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

you swiftly turned around and you were dragged down back to earth. wonwoo stood behind you with his head tilted with concern on his face, “penny for a thought?”

“wonwoo!” you greeted, “what do you mean?” you questioned after processing what he had said. “you seemed like you were in deep thought. you feeling okay?” he asked as he leaned on the wall beside you.

“never been better," you expressed with a sweet smile.

he nodded and sighed his worry away. his eyes trailed downwards and yours followed. you raised a brow confused but then he pointed downwards with a playful frown, “you got a drink without me?” you giggled and placed your arm around his shoulders, “i’ll go buy you one stop sulking.”

eight , current location — wonwoo's apartment.

wonwoo stepped into his apartment, his footsteps for some reason, felt lighter than the day before. he'd just came back from his outing with you and he couldn’t lie, those hangouts really made his days brighter. he’s smiling just thinking about it.

"you came home late today," his roommate, kim mingyu pointed out as if he were a mother waiting at home, worried sick about his son who goes out too much. in reality, wonwoo and mingyu weren't even close, they just happened to live together cause rent was expensive. but mingyu had always hoped to get closer with wonwoo and he took every chance he could to start a conversation with him.

"yea, was out with someone," wonwoo replied as he hung his bag on one of the dining table chairs.

mingyu got up from the couch and walked to the fridge fiddling with the things inside it, he was actually just closing the distance between him and wonwoo as much as he could. it seemed like today was a good day since usually, wonwoo would just head straight into his room but today he sat at the dining table. he never does that!

mingyu glanced at wonwoo and prolonged the conversation, “like a date?“

“i wouldn’t call it that, more like whatever you do after a talking stage i guess.”

mingyu shot a proud smile and crossed his arms, “no wonder you’ve been so smiley, what’s their name?”

“would you know them?” wonwoo asked but his eyes were on his phone since he was helping you find electronic door locks for your friends door.

“most probably, campus may be big but i know most people.”

“true,” wonwoo looked at mingyu as he nodded in agreement knowing how extroverted his roommate can be, “their names yn,” he answered before returning his eyes to his phone.

a sudden deafening silence washed over the room. mingyu took too long to respond.

wonwoo looked up, “what’s wrong?” he became concerned, wondering what caught the curious cat’s tongue.

there was a clear look of dislike on mingyu’s face as his smile disappeared and the look in his eyes changed.

“yn ln?” the roommate confirmed. wonwoo pursed his lips and looked up to recall, “yeah, i think that’s their last name.”

mingyu shortly laughed but wonwoo could tell it was a type of laugh not for something funny, but for something that was unbelievable, “no fucking way,” mingyu spat.

wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, he assumed mingyu was just making fun of him, like mingyu thought he wasn’t good enough for you, “is there a problem?” he asked defensively.

“not at all, just, look for someone else, yn’s not worth your time.”

wonwoo’s heart dropped and suddenly his feet felt heavy again.

then again he knew his roommate was a semi brat. in the sense that he’s nice and all but he might hold a grudge if something doesn’t go his way. wonwoo sighed slightly uninterested in the topic, what could he possibly have to say about you?

wonwoo thought, at the very least you must’ve just rejected mingyu and it fucked with his ego big time. in any case wonwoo was always willing to listen but that doesn’t mean he’ll pick sides. “what makes you say that?”

“i get the attraction to yn, i knew them from last semester. i’m sure you’ve heard, they’re a great friend and that may be true i don’t know about that but from what i know, yn isn’t all that great in terms of romance, trust me.”

“what do you know?” wonwoo faced mingyu.

“long story short i’ve went out with yn last sem and they were fun but, yn has some ties i’m pretty sure they haven’t let go off even until today. my relationship with yn didn't last long because of said ties,”

“can you stop beating around the bush? just tell me exactly what happened between you and yn,” wonwoo firmly spoke.

mingyu gave a glare to wonwoo as he rested his jaw on his hand, recalling the story, “there’s this guy yn's super close with, you should know him, his names choi seungcheol, he's from a different department but he's popular. he and yn has been in a whole will they won’t they period, you sure you wanna go out with someone like that?"

"that was last sem, a lot could change in a few months.”

mingyu scorned, bobbing his head forward, "i literally saw yn walk to his class a few days ago, i don’t think anything has changed, regardless, why would you go out with someone with a past like that?"

"because people can change. plus, i’m not a child, what happens between yn and i is for me to deal with,” wonwoo spoke without even batting an eye to the taller man.

“suit yourself,” mingyu shook his head and walked away. he thought today was the day he could finally get closer with his roommate and ease the awkwardness but today, the distance has never been bigger.

wonwoo picked up some food and a bottle of water before descending into his room hoping that would be enough so that he wouldn't have to cross paths with mingyu for awhile. he felt a bit frustrated. he knew in his heart that you were good but then again, why would mingyu lie to him?

nine , current location — wonwoo’s car.

it was the next day, wonwoo had offered to pick you up again.

wonwoo tapped to the beat of the song on the radio onto the wheel of his car while waiting for you. until, from the corner of his eye, he saw you ecstatically running down the steps of your building.

he launched forward slightly to reach your car door, opening it from he inside, "hi yn."

"wonwoo!" you greeted energetically. he enjoyed hearing it but, at the same time, there was a tinge of bitterness as it rolled into his ears when he heard your voice today.

you sat down with a grin and you went on talking about your morning, the usual.

you usually did the talking as wonwoo listened.

and wonwoo was known for being quiet, but this level of quietness was unusual, even for him.

"wonwoo?" you called out. it was as if he was mentally elsewhere.

he was. he was stuck with his thoughts since last night. in his head, there were lingering questions about your past relationships. do you know a seungcheol? did you even know who mingyu was?

"sorry, didn't get enough sleep last night," he laughed it off.

shit, whatever mingyu told him that night stuck to him.

ten , current location — college cafeteria.

“gosh- yn i’ll change the date for you!” chan, your peer or more like your little brother held onto your forearms. he was sitting across you and he was practically off his seat convincing you to do something for him.

“you’ll what?” you snickered at his words.

“when are you free? i’ll move the party to that date.”

your hand that held your food fell to the table out of disbelief, “now why would you stoop that low chan?”

“i wanna meet new people and you have the best connections out of everyone in campus.”

“so you're using me?”

“you're fun as well," he innocently fluttered his eyes.

"then you'll have no problems with only me attending then?" you smiled like the joker.

he scoffed and rolled his eyes, "at least bring seungcheol and his friends while you're at it, if they go then surely, tons of people will come."

your eyes widened at his words but you could only bare to sigh, "you've become greedy chan."

"does that mean you'll bring him?"

you laughed, sighing softly until you remembered a tiny problem.

you had 5 unread messages from cheol.

but perhaps, someone other than cheol could come.

ten.5 , current location — college.

you and wonwoo sat on the grass. it had became a staple spot you both met at since it was conveniently close to your classes. you were sitting across each other sharing some convenience store food. you decided to bring the question up.

“hey do you know lee chan?”

“yea, why?” wonwoo was still picking on the grass but he made eye contact with you. “he has this party on friday night, are you interested in going?”

wonwoo stayed silent so the fear of rejection creeped up on you.

“you don’t have to go, i’m just offering an invite.”

“think im busy that day, sorry,” he said as he pursed his lips in guilt.

you gave a reassuring smile and brushed his hair with your fingers, “it’s alright.”

“im really sorry yn.”

you let a mischievous grin slip and played with him a bit. you placed your face into your hands, covering it hinting that you were upset.

“ahh yn don’t be like that.”

you spoke in a whiny tone to add to the act, “but this should’ve been our first party together—“

but suddenly his arms wrapped around your waist and he placed his head on yours.

he didn’t know what else to do but this.

“we’ll get to the next one, okay?” he does want to go it just happened that he can’t this time.

honestly you did want to feel disappointed that wonwoo couldn’t come. but you didn’t.

even with his words and actions that were meant to tell you ‘you have my full interest’. you didn’t feel anything from it.

you didn’t feel shit for him.

you’ve wounded up here again because there was no way you were going to attend a party alone.

cause how could you say no to chan.

this was for chan.

you’re only messaging him for chan.

「yn: do you want to go to a party?

cheol: depends, who’s is it?

yn: my little brother

cheol: …? did your parents conceive another child

yn: he’s not my biological brother

cheol: adopted?

yn: it’s lee chan

cheol: 💀

cheol: when is it?」

eleven , current location — lee chan’s party.

cheol’s arm snaked around your waist, “ready to go in?” he asked. “yea,” you confidently answered. this was like the thousandth party you’ve attended, why did he have to ask.

he opened the door and the once muffled cheers were heard perfectly. you flinched slightly at the noise to which he chuckled at.

you playfully rolled your eyes at him and walked in.

it reeked of alcohol already. it wasn’t as crowded as other parties you’ve attended but it was certainly something that could be considered a party.

cheol kept you close, having your back sandwiched to his chest as he held you by your shoulders. slowly, you passed through all the people and found your way to the drinks.

cheol instantly poured you your favourite drink and placed it in your hands as he swiftly poured himself one as well. you tapped your cup against his and downed it all in one go. no matter if you could actually handle it or if it was just for show, it still entertained seungcheol every time.

“yn! you’re here!” chan ran to you excitedly. “of course, why wouldn’t i?” you giggled.

“thank you for coming seungcheol!” he suddenly bowed to which seungcheol quickly pushed up the younger boy to stand up straight. “you’re nice, good thing you didn’t take after this mean senior,” cheol teased as he patted your head.

“hey you have never bowed to me ever, what’s so special about cheol?” you brought up to chan.

“he’s him, you’re you,” he coldly said. you turned to cheol who was covering his cheeky grin with his cup.

from afar it looked like you were scolding your husband and son.

“well enjoy the party, let me know if you guys want other drinks i’ll get it for you!” chan said as he skipped away with a smile.

“well obviously you’re not biologically related to someone like him,” cheol leaned on the kitchen counter as he turned to you with a smug look on his face.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned as you took a sip from your cup.

“he’s sweet.”

“what does that make me?”

“mm..” he hummed.

slowly, he leaned in towards you, closing he distance between you two as he casually placed his hand on your hip. pulling you closer, he held your chin and tilted your head upwards.

there on your neck, he placed a soft kiss.

“ahh, you’re sweeter than him.”

you felt a burn in your heart.

you squeezed the drink in your hand, thinking of how to respond. but you couldn’t even think.

next thing you knew, your body reacted in its own.

you grabbed his hand that held your face and leaned in, kissing him on the lips.

it must’ve been weeks since you’ve done this.

he parted away from you, furrowing his brows. as far as he remembered, he was always the one who initiated kisses.

not like it was a rule but this was new. perhaps you missed him?

you couldn’t lie, you did.

he held you by your chin, taking a good look at your helpless expression but as he saw a pout form on your lips, how could he not give you what you wanted?

he pulled you closer, continuing the kiss.

gosh, he still had you wrapped around your finger.

it was sensual and passionate. you placed your arms around his neck pulling him closer as if he was going away but his hands softly caressed and slid against your back reassuring you he was here to stay.

you parted away, letting out a breathe. “i’ve missed you,” you blurted as you rested your head into the crook of his neck.

he smirked at your words as he patted your head, “you did?”

you couldn’t face him with how desperate you were being but nodded to answer his question.

“can’t be helped, you had that project right,” he took another sip from his cup.

you clenched your jaw and scrunched cheol’s jacket in your fist. that lie was lingered with guilt in your heart.

“yn? you barely finished your cup, don’t tell me you’re already tipsy,” he giggled as he glided his fingertips on your back.

suddenly, you stood up straight, placing your cup in his hands and walked off, “i’m going to the washroom.”

seungcheol didn’t think much of it, he just nodded and bopped his head to the music and waited for your return.

like any other party, there was a line but luckily, it wasn’t long. you decided to go on your phone to pass time while waiting but it wasn’t necessary since someone tapped on your shoulder.

you swung your head to look at who it was, it was someone you weren’t expecting.

it was a girl named mira, behind mira was a few other girls, probably her clique. you knew her due to being in the same class but you didn’t know much about her or the group in general, but it was evident they wanted something.

you leaned back into the wall confused on why she didn’t start talking despite you giving her attention. “can i help you?” you tilted your head.

she seemed hesitant as she fiddled with the ends of her clothes but eventually, she spoke when her friend nudged her, “uhm, you’re close with choi seungcheol right?”

‘duh, did you not see us earlier?’ is what you would’ve said but you had some decency.

“i am, why?” you crossed your arms.

“you two aren’t dating or anything, right,” a friend behind her smirked as she walked forward, asserting some dominance.

“what’s it to you?” you looked back at your phone after realising what they were here for. this was actually the first time people were running to you asking for favours for seungcheol. you’ve always experienced people asking for help with jeonghan, joshua and others but never seungcheol.

and you had underlying feelings for cheol. not like anyone knew about it but that wasn’t he point. it’s the fact that these girls clearly knew there must’ve been something between you and cheol, yet they’re still ambushing you hoping for a tip. that shit irked you.

“mira here wants his number. since you two aren’t dating, it’s okay to give it right?” the friend answered.

you looked at her up and down before going back on your phone. cheol would hate a girl that was too shy to ask personally.

you were thinking of just ignoring them but by then, the washroom was finally free so just before you walked in you replied with a firm, “no.”

you could hear them clicking their tongue as they walked away and heard the rage and it made you giggle a bit.

but god, your possessiveness over cheol only made it ever so clear that you weren’t over him.

when you walked out the toilet they were already gone and you made your way back to seungcheol.

“you ‘kay?” cheol brushed your hair as you fit yourself between his legs and rested your head on his chest. “yeah.”

he gave back your cup and used her free hand to hold yours. you looked down at your interwined hands and couldn’t hold back a smile.

then you wondered, if cheol was asked for his phone number directly, would he have given it?

you and cheol were pretty open to each other so you had no trouble bringing it up.

“cheol, this girl wants your number, should i give it?” you titled your head upwards to look at him.

he squinted his eyes at your words but he slowly responded, “i mean you can?”

ah. he’d accept it.

or so you thought.

just as your heart sunk, he continued, “i’m probably not going to reply to them but you can,” he chuckled.

you quickly turned and faced him, “huh? why not?”

“cause, i have you?” he raised a brow.

suddenly it’s as if the music had stopped.

did cheol actually think of you two as exclusive for once?

you couldn’t take your eyes off him but he didn’t think much of the way you were blatantly staring at him cause you did it often.

“wanna go dance?” he twirled your hair with his finger.

you snapped out of your daze, “uh- ha? since when do we dance at parties?” you laughed. you both usually only went to parties for the drinks, the vibes and nothing more but cheol felt like partying tonight.

“don’t know, just feel like it,” he gave a gummy smile.

“let’s go then,” you pulled him with a grin as he followed behind you.

you actually got it wrong earlier when you thought that he would hate a girl that was too shy because the correct version of that statement was that cheol would hate it if anyone but you tries to get with him.

you two got to the dance floor, residing somewhere at the side and instantly got into it but you fell into embarrassment as you moved to the beat of the music. cheol on the other hand seemed to have a plethora of dance skills up his sleeve. in this moment, his cold aura was gone. as he saw you covering your face, he pulled you out of your shell and held your hands. he guided you and placed your arms around his shoulders and you two swayed to the trap music as if it were classical jazz. the situation was slightly comedic, you both got a good laugh out of it.

it was these moments you shared with cheol that made you fall in love with him. and cheol would share this side of him with you and you only. if it were anyone else he probably wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to do so.

you both were practically gasping for air after laughing. you looked at him in awe as he did too. naturally, he leaned in for a kiss.

and his kisses felt like home. this was where you were meant to be.

the moment was perfect.

click, the sound of a camera shutter echoed but it was faint. it was way too faint for you to notice.

「mingyu: look at who i saw today at a party.

wonwoo: ?

mingyu: sent an image attachment」

twelve , current location — who’s apartment???

you went home with cheol that night. not like you had a choice since you were out of it.

“oh we’re here! kwaan, soonyoungie?” you slurred as the front door opened.

like meerkats, their heads turned simultaneously to the source of the sound.

“yn?” jeonghan jumped off the couch and ran to the front door excitedly. he prominently blurted out an ugly laugh that echoed through the buildings hallway as he got a good look at your face, “shit, they’re so fucking shit faced, what happened?”

“happened to get a reality check mid dancing. after that they proceeded to drink every cup they saw,” seungcheol laughed.

“are they good?” joshua slowly walked towards the three of you as he helped seungcheol bring you in. you were hanging on seungcheol by a thread. seungcheol had to continuously fling your arm around his shoulders so that he could somewhat carry you. even in the car he had to monitor and hold you up by placing his arms across your chest as an extra seatbelt to hold you upright cause if you were to hit your head on the dashboard, you’d be gone.

“i’m gonna freshen them up, can you guys get me a damp towel?” seungcheol looked to his roommates and surely, they followed the request as it was for you.

seungcheol rested you on his bed and wiped your face wth the damp towel jeonghan prepared. he even changed your shirt cause it reeked of alcohol.

soon enough he was laying beside you, joshua and jeonghan spectated at the side of the bed.

“so, yn’s back huh?” joshua crossed his arms.

“yeah,” seungcheol bluntly said as he ran his finger through your hair.

jeonghan had a smirk on his face, “you seem touchier with yn, what happened?”

he eyed the two of them, slightly annoyed but he knew they’d never shut up about it unless he gave a proper answer. “i guess you could say i don’t want to take them for granted anymore.”

“shit, really?“ joshua smiled widely.

“what’s when the reaction?” cheol stopped stroking your hair as he saw the roommates devilish expression.

“nothing it’s just, isn’t this you basically saying you admit you like yn?”

seungcheol’s eyes drifted back to you and he looked at you sincerely.

“yea, i like yn.”

joshua took a breathe and nodded. “glad you could admit it,” he clapped his hands quietly.

“well i’ll leave you two to it,” he said as he patted his friends back and exited the room with jeonghan following him.

there it was.

choi seungcheol likes you.

actually if he was a bit more honest, he would’ve admitted he loves okay but perhaps it was a bit too early for that.

but he was sure of it. after all, those few weeks you were gone must’ve been the most tough to get through without you there to brighten his day.

after that day you didn’t stay for dinner, seungcheol couldn’t lie or hide the fact he was upset by it but hey, what’s it to him? you’re not his, and why should his mood matter if you were there or not.

the second day you were gone, you didn’t even pass by his class like you usually would. he couldn’t help but wonder where were you the whole day. he’d been spending the day refreshing his feed like a fool waiting for an update of you on social media but he was mildly proud that you must’ve been so focused on your project that you didn’t go online. he loved an academically focused person.

but maybe it was for the better. seungcheol never wanted to fall for you. and seungcheol always thought that with the distance between you and him, these meek feelings would fade. but he couldn’t be more wrong.

because few days had passed and he literally found himself at your favourite cafe. was he finding excuses to see you? no, he was there cause he thought you needed a treat especially since you were working so hard on this project. but by this point he couldn’t deny his feelings. choi seungcheol liked you. seeing your face again after not-so-many-days. he felt like he was at home. the way his heart fluttered at the way you cutely turned your head when you heard his voice. your smile that shined. he wanted to call you his.

and ultimately, seungcheol could not deny his feelings any longer. especially not when he jumped out of his bed after receiving a text from you. he was so incredibly lucky that day. he was so lucky you texted him and he was so lucky jeonghan and joshua wasn’t home to hear his cheer of joy.

he was even luckier today since the person he loved most was finally back in his bed.

“kwannie, i need water,” you rolled over, facing seungcheol. he held back his laugh, you really thought you were at seungkwan’s place?

“here,” he placed the cup to your lips as you drank momentarily.

you stopped drinking and seungcheol placed the cup at the bedside table. his hands traced the outline of your body.

all that filled in his head was that if he was to make things official with you, there was no way he was going to fuck it up. he believed that you belong with him.

you woke up, head pounding. you swear you might die from the pain.

you mustered up the strength to sit up straight. you took a breathe in and that’s what woke you up. the scent of your surroundings that was one of a kind, you instantly became aware of the situation.

gosh you ended up sleeping in his bed again?

but you weren’t too bothered. there was a slight feeling of comfort that this is where you woke up.

you freshened yourself up in the washroom then walked outside the room.

you stood close to the door and you could hear someone in the kitchen but other than that there was no person in sight.

“looking for seungcheol?” joshua’s head peeped out from the kitchen giving you a startle.

“shit joshua— uhm yea, where is he?”

“not sure, he left a bit in a hurry but i’m sure he’ll be back.”

you hummed and lightly smiled, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water. you leaned by the stove joshua was cooking at and he glanced at you. “want me to cook you something?”

“i think i’ll just have a bowl of cereal.”

he was amused, you always had cereal at their place for some reason even if it was night time. “go for it,” joshua grabbed the box of your favourite cereal from the cupboard above him. they always made a mental note to buy it when doing groceries despite you being the only one who ate it.

as you poured yourself a bowl, joshua started a conversation.

“so, not like i don’t like that you’re here, i'm actually glad but, i thought you were getting closer with wonwoo?”

shit.

you forgot all about him.

“oh well i was more or less hanging out with him in the friendly sense yknow.”

joshua tilted his head, listening intently, “i see.”

you also completely forgot joshua and jeonghan had full knowledge about you going out with someone that wasn’t cheol yet they’re treating you as if nothing happened. you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“hey, did you think it was weird i went out with wonwoo?” you couldn’t hold back your curiosity.

joshua’s eyes were focused on the dish he was preparing but he still answered wholeheartedly, “not at all, i mean you said it yourself you went out with wonwoo in the friendly sense, right?”

you went silent and joshua didn’t miss a beat to tease you, “or is that not the case?” he asked with wide eyes.

you were appalled and could only let out a nervous laugh. eventually joshua felt bad and told you his honest opinion.

“regardless if you were or not, you and seungcheol were never exclusive, so why would it be weird?” he asked as he faced you. you sullenly nodded your head as you followed him to the dining table with your meals so that you could sit.

“shua?”

“yea?”

“does cheol know i went out with wonwoo?”

he was just about to take a bite of his meal but he couldn’t help but laugh at your question. “are you afraid he does?”

you nodded a yes as you took a bite of your cereal.

“yn, do you like seungcheol?”

you were once again taken aback. no one has ever asked you if you liked cheol. it was always are you dating him or something of the sort but never an explicit, do you like him.

well it’s not like you were fighting wars to hide it but you just never wanted to answer it. but what was the point of lying now.

“yea.”

joshua let out a breath and smiled. “glad you could admit it.”

“you could tell?”

“i mean. i understand the concept of friends with benefits but you and seungcheol seem beyond it.”

you tapped your spoon on the milk, taking in joshua’s words.

“so you’re afraid seungcheol’s knows you went out with wonwoo because you think seungcheol would drop you afterwards?” he tried to puzzle the pieces together.

you expressed a yes and he sighed. “well i can’t blame you, you must’ve been tired of waiting for seungcheol, right?”

you finally raised your head up. that’s exactly how you felt.

he giggled at your expression, he could tell you’ve been bottling this in.

“well yn, what’s your plan for now?”

“i don’t know. but i think firstly, i need to talk to wonwoo.”

joshua rested his chin in between his fingers, he wasn’t expecting that but he could see where you were going with it.

“well i support you, if you need help i’m here.”

you acknowledged his words with a smile and coincidentally, the front door opened.

you heard a plastic bag rustling and sounds of shoes tapping on the floor, there cheol stood, surprised to see you awake.

“hey, eating breakfast without me?” he pouted.

“where were you?” you crossed your arms.

he scowled and swung the plastic bag in front of your face before taking a seat beside you, “i was buying you some stuff that might help with your hangover.”

ah, that’s right, he always bought you stuff like this.

your eyes lingered in his in awe. he was too busy reading the contents of the things he bought to notice.

“your head alright?”

“a bit.”

“okay well you can take this after you’ve eaten then,” he pointed towards one of the pills as he patted your head.

you and seungcheol were never exclusive. but you wished you were.

and maybe you could.

cause his touch felt like home. being here by his side felt like home.

suddenly the regret of your decisions seeped in. what the fuck have you done.

thirteen , current location — wonwoo’s room.

wonwoo was just having a peaceful friday night. he always spent his friday nights like these, it was a way to recharge before another week of school falls upon him.

but for some reason, he couldn’t help but wonder should he be at the party with you. wonwoo was no stranger to your general character.

he knew you were pretty popular, he never knew for what reasons but you were still always humble about it. he knew that many people found you good looking cause he was one of those people. he couldn’t tell what type of person you’d be but as he hung out with you, he realised there was so much more to you than looks.

cause you had humour, you had drive and you had passion. sure it’s not rare to find people like that but to wonwoo, someone who likes to keep to himself, found himself wanting to be with you. that meant something to him.

cause wonwoo has tried to date but no one has appealed to him as much as you have.

and so wonwoo also knew that you liked partying hence why, if he was to prolong his relationship with you, shouldn’t he be making efforts to be with you?

until that text popped up.

「mingyu: sent an attachment」

a clearly zoomed in photo of you in seungcheol’s arms, kissing.

parts of him was disgusted at his roommate for taking photos of you without permission.

plus, the reasoning of why mingyu sent it was annoying. it was like a big slap of ‘i told you’ onto wonwoo.

but honestly there wasn’t any pain felt as the image projected into his brain.

because wonwoo wasn’t that dumb.

he may have been in denial about that seungcheol guy existing but he was not dumb.

wonwoo has noticed the way you stare at your phone as if you’re waiting for someone to text you. he’s noticed the way you get so frazzled when you’re at campus hanging out with wonwoo, it was like you were expecting someone to show up.

he’s also noticed the widgets of you and another guy on your phone that you never got rid of. he just assumed it must’ve been a guy best friend but as it turns out, those photo widgets were selfies of you and seungcheol.

wonwoo knew you would never be his. he knew it since the day you asked to get coffee or lunch with him because though you were with him, through the lack of eye contact, lack of reciprocation of advances, wonwoo didn't need a hint to know your heart was or must've been with someone else. it only solidified when mingyu brought up your past. after that, there was no denying, he had no chance with you.

but even with how things ended up, he’s embarrassed to say that he would say yes if you asked to get coffee or lunch again.

because you were a good first date.

but the thing about dates is that they always come to an end, right.

he realised that as he woke up the next morning and all that filled his mind was that he needed to talk about it with you.

because if he didn't end things now, he might just continue being with you despite knowing there was someone else in the picture.

but he was better than that, so he texted you.

「wonwoo: hey, i need to talk to you, in person.

yn: oh, is everything alright?

wonwoo: yea

yn: okay, where are we meeting?」

well. he enjoyed it while it lasted.

fourteen , current location — some cafe.

you both agreed on meeting at a cafe nearby campus so that it wouldn’t be too confusing.

you got there first, sitting comfortably while texting wonwoo where you were for some direction.

though you sat comfortably, there was an unsettling feeling lingering. cause you couldn’t guess what wonwoo possibly wanted to talk about.

but he showed up and in your eyes, he seemed normal.

he ordered a drink and soon sat in front of you.

“hi wonwoo," you plastered on a smile.

"hi yn," he returned the smile.

"so what did you want to talk about?"

he swirled his drink with a spoon, he seemed hesitant to start but he just wanted to get it over with, any longer and he might just chicken out and act like nothing happened.

"well i’ll be straightforward with you so be honest with me, are you seeing someone right now?" he asked not threateningly but more in a, 'let me understand you' way.

you were taken aback. out of all of the things wonwoo could've spoken about, wonwoo questioning your relationship status was something you didn't expect.

what possibly made him ask this.

"why are you asking?"

“well i have this roommate, he seems to know a bit too much about you. when he found out you and i were hanging out, he didn’t really like it. he wounded up sending me a photo of you and another guy at the party last night.”

fuck, the situation was really bad. it was out of your control.

especially with the way yesterday’s events rolled into your head, you and seungcheol were so close. you could only imagine what the photo portrayed.

your head instantly shot down and you could only apologise.

you did notice the ways wonwoo hinted he liked you. you couldn't imagine how wonwoo was feeling in this moment.

“i’m sorry wonwoo.”

“i don’t really know why you’re saying sorry,” he softly chuckled as he leaned back into his chair. “it’s not like you and i are dating.”

he was right, yet, you felt so much guilt.

“i’m only asking because i didn’t know you were seeing someone,” he continued.

“well i’m not actually exclusive with him,” you muttered.

his eyes showed his shock, that kinda sucked to hear, “so are you like this with everyone?”

“no! no, it’s just, i wasn’t seeing him during the time you and i were hanging out, i promise—“

wonwoo cut you off, he didn’t want you to be stressed over this, especially not when you and him weren’t exclusive either, “yn, it’s okay, whether you were seeing him or not, i don’t have a say in that. besides, your outings with me were only platonic right?”

as much as neither of you found the outings platonic, it was technically the bitter truth.

“i know but, i liked hanging out with you,” you said with some sort of desperation in your voice.

“me too.”

“i liked you wonwoo.”

“but you love him, right?”

your eyes were glued to the table, you swear you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“it’s okay, we tried,” wonwoo patted your head.

you were always the one who took the lead in conversations so he’s never seen you so silent. and your silence was worrying to him.

with sincere eyes, wonwoo got to your eye level and smiled, “i don’t resent you yn.”

he was so gentle with you, he made you believe you did nothing wrong.

“really?” you lifted up your head.

he had a smile plastered on the whole time which was comforting at the very least but at the same time, it stung you, cause how could he be so calm about this indirect rejection. on top of it all, you acted without thinking about how this affects wonwoo.

but he answered with such kindness, it killed you.

“yea? i still think you’re really cool, sure it’s a shame we didn’t work out but i can’t be mad at you for finding someone else. well if anything, i’m happy for you, i think you’re lucky.”

“lucky?”

“like, to find someone is lucky, not everyone gets to experience love like that at this age. i mean, i don’t know if your relationship with him is like that. but i just hope that when you find someone that gives you their all in the future, you don’t take it for granted because you deserve the best.”

"i hear you wonwoo, thank you."

wonwoo always knew what to say. it’s truly unfortunate you weren’t in love with him but, the least you could do right now was oblige to his hopes.

fifteen , current location — on the sidewalk.

‘you’re lucky.’

if anything you were lucky to have met wonwoo because without him, you wouldn’t have realised that all that you were looking for was right in front of you.

you’ve been holding back for so long and you’ve lost and hurt people because of it, you were done with that.

most of all, you were tired of acting like you weren’t in love with cheol.

the sun was disappearing and the streetlights were starting to light up but you couldn’t go to sleep until you saw him. your favourite cafe was somewhere cheol could reach quickly. you hurriedly walked on the sidewalk as you made you way to the cafe while simultaneously finding cheol’s contact to call him. as it was you calling, he picked up within one beep.

“yes yn? whats up—“ “meet me at my favourite cafe right now,” you cut him off.

you’d probably never find out but his heart dropped at an alarming speed as he heard you words. nevertheless, he responded in a heartbeat, “i’m coming.”

surely, he arrived in just a few minutes.

he easily spotted you awkwardly standing outside the cafe. he jogged towards you, hands in his pockets. his dimples deepened as he greeted you with a smile, “were you bored of something?” he laughed. it was common for you to drag seungcheol out at night so it wasn’t like he was weirded out by this spontaneous call.

“i just dumped a guy,” you blurted. i mean, more like he dumped you but that wasn’t important.

seungcheol’s eyes widened and instantly his smile faded, “what?“

“i dumped a guy because i don’t think i could be with someone that wasn’t you,” your head was tilted down as you dug cresents into your arm. you don’t think you could continue to see cheol without telling him this.

he took a step towards you as he took your hands into his, "what?"

"why have you never asked me out?" you looked at him woefully as you squeezed his hands.

seungcheol didn't know how to react. it was as if his dreams were coming true with your indirect confession but you were clearly hurt and he hated that he made you feel this way.

he knew he strayed from his feelings from you but that was only because he always thought that you were made for someone else.

but perhaps that someone was him.

"i kept going out with people but every fucking time, i only end up thinking about you," you spoke as if you were frustrated, and you were.

it was almost as if the way you felt was irreparable. but he caressed your face with his hand and he looked into your eyes sincerely.

“i’m sorry if i ever made you feel like you were unwanted, that was truly never my intentions yn, believe me,” his face was full of visible concern, fear even. but he continued, filling the silence of the tranquil night, “yn, i’m sorry for making you wait. if it’s not too late i’m willing to make something out of us as long you are aswell.

you blinked your eyes unsure if this was reality but the grip his hand hand on yours was like a pinch telling you this was all real.

“you’re willing to try?”

“always, you’re all i’ve never wanted.”

“like, exclusively?”

“as we always should’ve been,” he breathed out a smile.

there was a sting in your eyes, it felt like tears were forming in your eyes but it wasn’t enough to form a tear drop. but that’s how happy you were.

it’s what you’ve wanted to hear this whole time.

“so yn, will you be my significant other?”

your face that was so close to his was still in his hand, his other hand held your hand. there was no space between you yet you were comfortable. how could this not be the person you’re meant to be with.

you finally let out a smile and answered, “yes cheol, i’m yours.”

naturally with your face so close to his, he pulled you in for a kiss. but unlike the other kisses, this one was soft and sweet. it was new and it felt like a new beginning.

‘fuck, it was that easy,’ is what you both thought as you two parted.

you two pursed your lips as you looked at the ground, embarrassed at the situation as if you were in elementary school doing something scandalous but cheol knew how to move on. “let’s go in and get a drink?” he tilted his head towards the cafe.

“at this time? what are you gonna get from a cafe?” you furrowed your brows.

“i don’t know? a victory doughnut?” he sarcastically spat.

you could only let out a laugh. he stuck his hand out for you to hold and you held it with no hesitance as he guided you two into the cafe.

“ok now tell me more about that guy you dumped.”

“is that really something you want to talk about right now? also he dumped me.”

“really? i should thank him or something, what’s his name?”

you won the guy wanted most at the cost of wonwoo, you’re the one who should thank him.

“jeon wonwoo,” you answered.

“pro gamer jeon wonwoo?! how did you not leave me for him?” cheol’s eyes widened.

“hey, what the fuck?”

by his side, talking about how to move forward, it may have been complicated but it was worth going through as long as it meant you two would be together.

in your favour, that night, you went back to his place and into his bed.

and in cheol’s favour, you’re in his arms.

681 notes · View notes

cryinginmyroomsposts · 8 months

Text

New Year's Day - Kim Mingyu

tags: fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, lil' bit jealous, college boyfriend Mingyu, non-idol!au

masterlist

Not proofread!

"Tell me why we thought hosting a New Year's party at our apartment would be a good idea!" Your roommate's voice comes booming from the kitchen as you struggle to organise the lights on the wall above the sofa in your shared apartment living room.

"It definitely was not my idea." You bite back, regretting the idea the more by the minute as you clean and plan for the party.

"Haw! The audacity... you invited 15 people." Sam glares at you from the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other holding a ladle in a menacing way.

"I didn't know we would end up having to invite all of them." You admit. Sam sighs and walks towards you. "It's okay babe, I know you only wanted to invite Mingyu. It's not your fault he wanted to bring all 12 of his friends. And that two of them would want to bring their significant others."

"I really am sorry for all the trouble you go through for me Sam. I really appreciate it. Thanks." You both know you mean it. Sam had agreed immediately to the idea of the party seeing as how excited she was to see you and Mingyu get together.

Mingyu had been one of your closest friends in the last two years of university and you have been in love with him since the first semester you had met him. After two very lonely and self-destructive semesters of breaking your own heart, watching him date other girls and staying away from the one person you wanted to be close to, this last fall semester Mingyu had finally shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. Or so Sam felt.

At this point, you were so in your head about the whole thing that you could not differentiate reality from the illusions in your head. Breaking your heart had become a child's play for you and now it took constant encouragement and reiteration from Sam to even try to make moves on Mingyu.

He had been single for a whole semester and his behaviour toward you recently had been way different than before. The whole idea of a New Year's Eve party had been Sam and your idea to get Mingyu to finally realise his emotions (if he had any other than that of friendship for you). While the details had not exactly been worked out, you figured you would at least get to spend time with him in a closed setting.

The initial plan was to invite three of each of your friends and keep it as intimate as possible so that you and Mingyu could spend most of the time together. But when Mingyu had excitedly asked if he could bring along some friends, you had given in thinking it would be two or three but it ended up being thirteen instead. Not your fault that he looked like an absolute puppy when he wanted something.

The party was in an hour and now the two of you were running around trying to set right the drinks, decorations and food. Mingyu had promised to show up earlier and help with the food and setup but he was yet to arrive.

The sound of the doorbell breaks your train of thought and you go to open the door.

Speak of the devil.

"Ya! Why are you so late?" You question before he could greet you. As always Mingyu towers your entire doorway while looking gorgeous. He's wearing a simple black tee and joggers but manages to look like a million bucks.

He giggles and pulls you into one of his famous bear hugs and before he can reply another voice echoes from the stairs leading to your doorway.

"Mingyu ya, help me here please." The voice is soft and high-pitched. Before you can question it, Mingyu turns around and runs downstairs. When he returns, there is a girl in front of him, she is dressed in a modest pink dress, with bouncy curls lining her shoulders and a smile that lightens up her whole face. She is very pretty.

"Oh hi. You must be Y/N, Mingyu talks about you a lot. I'm Maya." She says extending her hand out to you. Her voice is soft and she looks very friendly and you shake her hand with a smile on your face.

"Hi, Maya. Welcome! I hope he has only told good things." You joke lightly and she laughs nodding.

"Yes, yes! I hope it is not a problem for me to join." She says as you lead her in, Mingyu towers over both of you as he walks behind her holding a box full of you're not sure what.

"Absolutely not an issue Maya! Please go have fun."

Once they are in, you close the door and walk straight to the closest restroom. When the locks are secured you open the tap and let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding in. It is not logical for you to jump to conclusions, but the fear still creeps in.

"Y/N, stop being stupid! She's a friend, seems sweet and is probably an amazing friend." You tell yourself through the mirror. But the problem is not her, you wouldn't hate or behave differently with her for a second. the problem is you and your fear that Mingyu has again chosen someone else over you. The problem is he doesn't see you, again, and you get left behind to be the best friend only, again.

The feelings are all too familiar to you after all this time. You are very close to breaking your own heart, hurting yet another piece of you to show up as Mingyu's good friend and support him. You are almost entirely convinced and right as you are about to break down the knock on the bathroom door interrupts you.

"Ya Y/N, you okay?" Mingyu's soft "Y/N-voice" (as Sam calls it) booms through the bathroom doors and stabs your heart like a glass shard. This is why it is so much harder to break your own heart. Because this man is so good and caring and everything you could ever want and yet he would never be yours.

"Y/n?" He calls out again. You wash your face and clear your throat as fast as possible. "Yeah, I'll be out in 5. Go mingle with people." He doesn't reply and you are too preoccupied trying to look party-presentable. This is why you jump when you find him staring right at you when you open the bathroom door.

"Jesus! Why did you scare me like that?" You ask trying to calm your heart rate. Instead of replying to you, he locks the closed room door and faces you while holding your shoulders. "What happened? Who should I hurt?" You chuckle and the worry on his face eases a little bit. His care for you only makes it so much harder to distance yourself and try to move on. This man makes it so hard not to love him.

"I'm fine Mingyu. I just had to use the restroom." You try your best to sound convincing but judging from the look of judgment on his face you can say he didn't buy it. Before he can begin his usual "Let people care about you" rant, Sam calls your name from the other end of the house and you excuse yourself to return to the chaos of the party. The rest of the three hours go by in absolute chaos of 13 grown men and 6 girls trying their best to socialize, vibe, and party in your apartment. You keep your distance from Mingyu and Maya, and find yourself clinging to Seokmin- Mingyu's friend. Seokmin is a very hot guy who is determined to be the party clown and you can't help but laugh every other minute at his antics. Everyone seems to be enjoying it, and several games are played.

"Everyone gather round and settle down. Ten minutes to midnight guys!" The sudden excitement in the air is infectious. You see that Seungcheol and Jihoon have settled on the couch with their girlfriends, Vernon is trying to be subtle about sitting next to Sam's classmate who he has been talking to since the evening began.

Right as you can figure out what to do about your Midnight seat, Sam pulls you into the kitchen.

"Where do u think you are going ?" She has the usual no-bs Sam stance, arms crossed across her chest and sharp eyes that can pierce through you.

"I- I am going to sit before Midnight strikes." You know where this conversation is headed.

"Y/N, why were you going to sit on the stool, alone. At midnight." If Sam's eyes were daggers, you would have bled to death in those few seconds of eye contact. The living room is buzzing with energy and you realize there are only 5 minutes left.

"Sam..." you exhale. She shakes her head in disappointment and walks away. You face the kitchen wall away from the living room and breathe.

Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale... In- "Hey..."

Mingyu's soft voice breaks your flow and you whip your head to see him standing right next to you. His palm is placed on the kitchen counter next to you and he is practically shielding you from the outside world.

"All okay?" He says, his voice is soft and slow. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern and he is leaning down to your height, face inches apart. His face is dripping with concern and it breaks yet another piece of your heart.

It would've been much simpler if you had only considered him a good friend like he does with you.

Mingyu lifts his eyebrows emphasising his question when you don't reply. You clear your throat and nod in affirmation.

"I'm good Gyu." "You sure?" You let a small smile at his concern, god he was so sweet. "Yes, Gyu. Don't worry. Just needed a small break from all the crowd before the new year."

He nods because he understands that sometimes crowds can overwhelm you.

"Why are you here?" You ask him, turning slightly to face him better. This immediately turns out to be a mistake as you are now trapped in between the kitchen counter and Mingyu's big frame. As the noise outside gets louder he leans further down toward your face and you repeat your question closer to his ear.

Can he hear how fast your heart is beating? Will he ever know how much you like him?

"I came to check on you because you were missing." He states matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes.

"There are only two more minutes for midnight Gyu. You should be out there, having fun."

"Yeah, you too." He sounds serious and you sigh.

"I will come out but you should go there. Maya will be waiting for you." Your voice croaks the last sentence and the knife in your heart sinks in further.

Mingyu looks confused at your words. "Why would she be waiting for me?"

"30 seconds to the New Year guys!" Someone shouts from the living room and you take another deep breath. Mingyu's eyes haven't left you and you are too nervous to see him for more than a second at a time.

"See less than a minute. Go out there before you miss your midnight kiss." You say in the brightest tone you can muster, hoping he understands you are referring to Maya and his midnight kiss.

"I don't need to be out there for that." He says the words slowly as his face is inches away from yours.

Huh?

Judging by the smirk on Mingyu's face you probably look like a deer caught in headlights at the moment. You're not sure how long you stay frozen like that until someone yells 15 seconds from the living room.

"Wha- what do you mean?" You gulp.

Mingyu moves his face closer, and he lifts one hand from the counter next to you to hold your chin. He angles your face and analyses it.

"Y/N?" Mingyu's voice comes out in a question, one you seem to be understanding.

Your heart is screaming in joy - "HE WANTS YOU TO BE HIS NEW YEAR'S KISS".

Your head is screaming in fear - "HE IS TOYING WITH YOU. RUN."

You gulp again. Mingyu has the softest smile on his face.

"Mingyu, don't play with my heart." Your voice is barely audible but you know Mingyu heard you. The smile on his face illuminates his eyes.

"Would never dream of it." He says in a deep and soft tone.

"5 SECONDS", a voice travels from the living room.

"Is this real, Gyu?" Your heart is beating in your eyes and you are staring deep into his.

He is now holding your face in both of his palms and your back is pressed on the kitchen counter.

"3 SECONDS!"

"As real our beating hearts, Y/N."

You believe him. Your heart believes him. Your brain has shut the fuck up for once.

"2 SECONDS GUYS!"

"So... can I kiss you ?" Mingyu's expression is now clouded with worry and you smile from your heart.

"1 SECOND!"

You nod quickly and right as everyone from the living room is yelling Mingyu's lips come crashing on yours.

It is everything you imagined, and so much more. His lips move against yours slowly. Both of you are smiling into the kiss. Neither of you is in a hurry at that moment, He is savouring you and you are melting into him.

After what feels like an eternity, both of you break apart for the practical purposes of breathing( who invented that huh?!).

Mingyu's face is still close to yours, lips lightly brushing against each other's.

The living room is bursting with energy and all your friends are there but you couldn't care less about anything at this moment.

"Happy New Year." Mingyu sounds content, his eyes are shining with happiness and his smile is incandescent.

"Happy New Year Gyu."

"I'm never starting a new year any other way after this," Mingyu says and you laugh. "Or any day for that matter." He states as he wraps his arms around your waist now.

God, you could get used to this!

"Oh wow, loverboy! Slow down... we still need to talk about things." You remind him because you have always been the one to bring all the anxiety and sense into this relationship.

"Hmm yeah, but a kiss first?" He asks in his signature puppy-Mingyu face. As you're about to lean in you see Sam enter the kitchen from the corner of your vision. She is startled at first and then breaks into the biggest smile as she leaves the two of you alone.

Your smile widens as Mingyu captures your lips once again.

It's been 5 minutes but this is already turning out to be your favourite year ever!

378 notes · View notes

drunk-on-dk · 1 year

Text

Tight Laced | Kim Mingyu (m)

Pairing: shop clerk!mingyu x afab!reader Genre: fluff, smut, roller-rink!au, 70s!au Rating: 18+ (minors do NOT interact) w/c: ~4.7k

warnings under the cut!

warnings: reader is on a budget and a bit clumsy; reader is called a square; explicit smut scenes; protected sex!; oral (fem receiving); sensitivity from multiple orgasms (fem); marking; public sex(?); mingyu hooking up on the job (?); desperate, whiny Mingyu; pls lmk if I’m missing anything; apologies as there may be some errors

a/n: I’m so excited to be back with a new post, especially as part of the 70s;teen collab with @svthub. I’m so thankful to be a part of another collab, it was so fun to really get into writing again and take some time to really enjoy writing a fluffier piece. Please be sure to go give love to each of the creators in the collab, they are all amazing, please go to this link to give their works a read!

Roller skates and Saturday night disco lights.

You wanted nothing to do with it, especially when most of your days were spent in your college’s library, trying to rack up as much spare change that you could with such a low paying part-time job.

Nevertheless, the job was arguably worth it. The library was peaceful, and the downtime allowed for studying. Other than classes, you really didn’t stray far from organizing shelves and spending nights at the cozy cavern of books that funded your education.

Which is exactly why it was shocking to your roommate, the outgoing and spunky Julie, when you strolled home at your usual time on Saturday afternoon and showed a bit more curiosity as she prepped for the night’s events. As per usual, her free-spirited attitude helped loosen you up after your morning shift, plopping down on your leather couch with a huff of relief.

“What’s so fun about going to the disco rink every weekend?” You pondered aloud, observing as she packed away her roller skates into her mini duffle, an anxious hand of yours reaching out to the pet rock sat on the end table.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N,” Julie exhaled with a smile, spinning around to show her typical skating garb, pin straight hair whipping around her shoulder like a movie star. As per usual, she sported nylon disco shorts and a fun colorful top. “It is so fun to get dressed up, skate around, socialize, and groove to some great music. You’ve got to try it one day! It’s freeing, and God knows you need some of that.”

You chuckle, unable to deny that maybe, just maybe, it would be nice for you to get out and let loose for once. It does seem like a good time, especially since Julie never misses a single weekend since the rink became the hot spot, but you know all too well that she is the most positive person you’ve ever met.

As if Julie can sense your consideration, she gasps, clearly excited to make her next suggestion. “Why don’t you join me tonight, Y/N?”

“I don’t even have skates,” you counter, but it’s a feeble argument, knowing that it won’t suffice as an excuse for Julie. “You also know I’m a klutz,” you add, whining, as if that makes it any better.

“Well, we can get you a pair. They are sold cheap at the shop in the rink, or you can rent them. Plus, if you end up falling, just hang around and enjoy the music. Don’t be such a square.”

It’s a solid argument, Julie can practically see your walls crumbling down as you finally accept her invite to join her for the first time in the past year. It’s all a blur as Julie squeals, immediately dragging you towards her closet and holding up options for tonight.

As if you were Julie’s own personal Barbie doll, she quickly dresses you in what she finds suitable for your first night out. A pair of cut-off shorts and a colorful halter top to match hers. She doesn’t forget the finishing touches, pulling out a pair of thick socks for the both of you.

“Believe me, don’t forget to wear these,” she states, hinting at the risk of blisters, but they suit the final outfit regardless.

Before you have the chance to change your mind, you find yourself alone at the skate shop, considering if you should just purchase a pair of skates or rent them.

However, you were already enjoying yourself, the car ride to the rink with Julie’s friends was fun, and the appeal of the night was already becoming clear. Maybe it would be worth it to just suck it up and buy a pair. Julie had offered to stick around and help you with the skates, but you shooed her off to ensure she made the most of her night, promising that you’d join her sooner than later if all goes well.

You’re lost in your thoughts, the sound of ABBA reverberating in the background as you compute and make mental calculations on how much money you can spare to spend on a new pair of skates. That is up until a larger figure situates himself on the counter across from you.

“Aren’t they slick?” Dark, almost puppy-like eyes meet yours, the sudden presence of the shop clerk in your personal bubble snapping you back into reality.

It’s almost hard to speak, the clerk is a handsome man with fluffy raven locks, and, to be quite honest, you’re not so sure what he’s calling ‘slick.’ “Pardon me, but which ones are you referring to?”

“Oh,” he laughs shyly, his head flipping between you and the skates behind him almost nervously. “I’m not quite sure myself actually, I thought you may have been looking at the skates on the top right shelf, usually people just need some words of encouragement after they’ve been looking for so long.”

Goodness gracious, he is endearing, you think. There is something so boyish about his presence that makes you feel a bit more comfortable around him, even if he has looks of a Casanova actor. Even if his arms are rippling as he shifts his weight on the counter in front of you.

“Well,” you pause, taking a second to read the name on his name tag, “Mingyu, is it?”

He nods, a little too eagerly and you’re almost worried he’s going to shake up all the blood in his head.

“I have been looking at all the pairs, Mingyu. Just not sure on the price, and I’m not so sure it’s worth buying a pair if I don’t even know how to skate. Any recommendations?”

Mingyu considers your situation for a minute before turning around to face the shelving behind him. You can’t help but blush slightly, finally noticing his tight corduroy pants that accentuated the length of his legs. He seems to settle on a pair quickly, dropping them on the counter in front of you with a satisfied look on his face. The slam of the skates on the counter pulls you out of another bout of spacing out.

“Alright, space cadet, I’d recommend these. They are great for someone on a budget, but the wheels won’t lock up on you and they look nice too,” he’s a good salesman, they do look nice, but you still find yourself worrying more than one should for a leisurely activity like this.

Mingyu senses your reluctance and decides to throw in one last sales pitch, “plus, if you purchase these now, I will throw in a free skating lesson with the one and only professional roller-skater.”

“Hmmm,” you hum, hesitant fingers running over your purse zipper as you wait for the punch line. “And who would that be?”

“Me! Who else would it be?” Mingyu exclaims, his bright smile immediately reflecting one onto your face. He seems so pure and kind; how could you even say no to the offer?

“You’ve sold me,” you laugh, finally diving into your purse and gathering up the right amount of bills to make the transaction.

Mingyu is swift with accepting the money, wasting no time to hand you the change before promptly starting on the laces, blabbering mindlessly about how you won’t regret your purchase. Honestly, he’s talking too quickly for you to even process what he is saying.

It was quite astounding how he so easily sold you on the skates. He could be twisting your arm for all you know, but his smile seems so earnest, so you’ll give it a shot.

Worst case, you’ll come back on another day when he isn’t working and attempt to return the skates.

“Are you ready? Let me help put these on you,” Mingyu asks, dropping a ‘Be Right Back in 15 minutes’ break stand on the counter and skating around through the back gate with your new skates in hand.

He guides you to a nearby seat and starts explaining the best way to lace up your skates. Mingyu asks for your name at some point, and all you can do is stutter out your name nervously in response. It’s all garbled after that, your mind going blank as it becomes increasingly difficult to focus as his fingers help lace up your new skates, large hand wrapping around your ankle and sending goosebumps up your spine when he deems they are laced tightly enough.

“Laces too tight?” He asks, the question innocent, but the way his eyes flicker up towards yours sends heat right to your lower stomach.

“Nope, all good. At least I think.”

Mingyu chuckles, sensing your nerves and patting your knee in support, “alright, well get up then. Let’s try them out.” He slaps his thighs before standing upright, holding a large hand out for you to take, and pulling you up with him.

Feeling like you were just born with new legs, you’re hesitant to start moving, and you quickly realize how precarious the skates are. Instinctually, you grasp onto Mingyu polo, and he is quick to give you tips on how to keep you balance.

Mingyu assists in guiding you towards the rink, reminding you of techniques on keeping balance, and letting you know you two will take a lap slowly around the rink first.

It doesn’t take long for Julie to notice you two, her jaw dropping when she sees you latched onto the stranger for dear life as he holds your hand, pulling you along the side walls of the rink.

She sends you a look from across the rink, hair flowing in the wind before she slows down her speed. You shrug, a blush coloring your cheeks as Mingyu attempts to regain your attention by tugging gently on your fingers.

“Sorry about that,” you apologize, almost stumbling and falling backwards as you redirect your attention, but Mingyu is quick-thinking to steady you. “I’ll focus better, I know your time is precious as a professional roller skater.”

It’s an attempted joke, and warmth fills your chest when he laughs, his eyes lighting up with joy as he does a little wiggle move in an attempt to prove his skills to you.

“No worries let’s keep on truckin,” he winks, continuing the lesson without another beat passing. His hands stay linked with yours, skating backwards easily as he corrects your feet from a pigeon-toed position to pointing outwards.

Time goes by too quickly with Mingyu, he’s all too charming for you, and the wind that flows through his and your hair as you skate together makes it feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You can understand why Julie loves Saturday night skates so much, the atmosphere is phenomenal, Julie occasionally slapping your behind when she passes by and thanking Mingyu for his help.

Skating also sounds especially appealing if Mingyu is here on these nights.

It’s disappointing when the night comes to an end. Julie has to practically tear you away from Mingyu’s skate shop, especially since he had to return back to the counter after a couple of laps, but he continued to spend the night and share tips with you. He even agreed to give you another free lesson.

Of course, you ended up joining Julie the next weekend for another skate, absolutely satisfying her as well. As exhilarating as it was knowing that you got to see Mingyu again, it was also exciting having more time with Julie, and being able to enjoy the hobby she loved so much with her. You’d even claim that some of Julie’s free-spiritedness was rubbing off on you finally.

Shockingly, you had denied picking up another shift at the library. Your boss wasn’t quite happy with your response, but Julie had encouraged you with a thrilled “stick it to the man” before dragging you out for another night.

Ultimately, Julie was right, skating was absolutely freeing, and you now had something to look forward to on the weekend other than spending hours of your life working.

However, inevitably, weeks passed rapidly, and you surprisingly became quite good at skating after how frequently you’ve visited the rink.

It’s been about a month since first joining Julie at the rink. Now you’ve become addicted to the weekend, absolutely looking forward to the loud music of the disco rink, colorful lights, and especially having the chance to see Mingyu’s dazzling smile.

Now you find yourself gliding across the floor much easier now, Mingyu signaling a thumbs up each time you pass by the skate shop, looking proud of how well you’re able to keep up with Julie as she drags you beside her and sings along with the Bee Gees, ABBA, and Donna Summer songs.

Sometimes you even do a little spin on the skates to show your new and improved skills. It makes both Mingyu and Julie laugh, Mingyu shouting “groovy moves” towards you both as you begin to coordinate your spins.

Yet, there’s a twinge of disappointment inside of you, knowing you no longer have the excuse that you’re poor at skating, and will no longer require the assistance of Mingyu. Thus, no longer feeling the burn of his fleeting touches as he helped encourage you to skate faster. No longer feeling the flames erupt inside your belly as he held your waist to balance you. No longer feeling his hot breath on your neck as he spoke instructions near your ear, even if it was just so you could hear him over the blaring music.

The only thing that kept you fed was that he only seemed to smile at you each time you passed by, even when most rink attendees had their eyes on him as well.

Julie seems to catch onto your fleeting looks, nudging you as a slower song came on to cool the rink, the lights dimming low and the disco ball being the only light radiating the rink. Mingyu’s tied up helping another girl around your age at the counter, her flirtatious nature clear as she covers his hand with hers.

Mingyu seems unsure about this advance, withdrawing his hand, but politely helping the girl with her rental skates.

“You two are ridiculous,” Julie sighs, “he’s clearly into you, you’re clearly into him, and both of you are too well-mannered to say anything. Hold on.”

Before you can say anything, Julie kicks your ankle, it’s a light kick, but it’s hard enough that it makes you bend over in slight pain. Like the speed of light, Julie is stomping off and skating over towards Mingyu’s shop. You can’t tell what she says to him, clearly pointing towards you, and you’re already preparing for the worst by the way Mingyu’s eyebrows raise almost up to his scalp.

Julie looks smug as Mingyu rushes towards you, the look of concern on his face making your heart beat a little too abnormally as you grip onto the sidewalls of the rink for support.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Why aren’t you sitting down? Julie should have taken you off the rink,” he seems stressed, quickly making his way into the rink and examining your bent over state.

“Oh,” you gasp when Mingyu’s arm wraps around your waist, encouraging you to lean all your weight into his broad body. “What do you mean? Julie just – “

“Your ankle,” he mutters, looking down at your feet worriedly as he finally sits you on a bench off the rink. “We need to get these skates off, come back to the shop with me really quickly, I have a med kit in the backroom, and I can wrap your ankle up.”

You don’t know what to say, unsure of the turn of events, shooting Julie daggers with your eyes as Mingyu carries you past her, but she looks all too smug for your liking.

Mingyu is prompt, carrying you into the backroom of the shop and propping you up on a small counter next to a sink. It’s a small room and it’s a tight fit for the two of you. The proximity is enough to make you feel dizzy as he searches for the med kit.

Mingyu’s deft fingers work expertly to unlace your skates, he sighs as his warm hands run over the lace marks left on your ankles where your socks didn’t cover. There’s also a clear red mark from where Julie had kicked your ankle.

“Does it hurt a lot? It doesn’t look like it’s bruising just yet,” He looks over your ankles worriedly, but quickly notices nothing is wrong.

“Um,” you quiver awkwardly, your cheeks becoming as bright as red roses as his soft eyes meet yours. “No, it doesn’t really hurt, but I didn’t injure myself. Blame Julie.”

He chuckles, shaking his head in exasperation with a small smile as he begins to realize the set up done by Julie. “I knew Julie might have been bullshitting. I told her you looked like a pro out there, but I know how clumsy you can be, space cadet, so I thought you may have actually hurt yourself.”

You hadn’t noticed Mingyu’s hands running up and down your thighs in a comforting motion until silence fell between you two.

“Well,” you breathe out, the air escaping your chest shakily as you become increasingly aware of how close you really were to Mingyu now. The goosebumps that paint your skin didn’t help hide the effect Mingyu had on you as well. “I’m OK now, so can you just put my roller skates back on?”

Mingyu nods, warm hands now leaving your skin and leaving a burning spot behind as he picks up your skates on the ground. The slight whimper you let out didn’t go unnoticed by Mingyu as his shoulder brushed your knees on the way back up.

Subconsciously, your legs begin to move without second thought, opening a bit wider and allowing for Mingyu to slot himself between your thighs. The air around you two begins to feel suffocating as his fingers softly grab your ankle once again, just like the first time, and sending heat right down to your lower stomach.

“Are you sure you’re OK, Y/N?” Mingyu breathes out, his fingers wrapping around your right ankle and lifting your leg up a bit teasingly. “You seem like you can’t catch your breath? Are you sure it doesn’t actually hurt?”

You know he’s teasing you now, his voice dropping an octave lower as he stares directly into your eyes between his dark lashes. The way he massages your ankle hints that he knows damn well that your ankle is perfectly OK.

“Yes,” you gasp as his finger dips into your sock, slowly unraveling the material and blowing on the exposed skin of your leg.

“Does it tingle?” He whispers, voice so deep that it practically reverberates through your head.

“Yes,” you’re practically whimpering as his hands run up your calf, past your knee, and over your thighs until his fingers reach the cutoff of your shorts.

“Good or bad?” His fingers dig at your skin gently, pressing into the sensitive skin as his lips close in dangerously towards yours.

“Good,” you sigh, you could practically feel his lips against yours at this point, your entire body tingling with desire as he closes in on you. It’s practically electrifying.

“Is this OK with you, Y/N?”

“Of course,” and with your consent, Mingyu presses his lips against yours, the soft buds melding against yours without much effort.

He’s quick to devour you, tongue sliding across your lips begging for permission. Of course, you oblige, accepting the deepened kiss needily. Mingyu’s fingers slide even further under your cutoffs, making the kiss between you two even hungrier as you feel his nails dig into your plush skin.

Mingyu whimpers into your mouth when your hands find their way into his hair, the sound of him driving you closer to insanity as he lets you lead the kiss for a bit. You’re amazed by how pliable he is, loving the way he presses closer to you with each gentle pull of his thick locks.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, Mingyu hums, “can I take these off of you, Y/N?” He’s pulling at the waistband of your shorts now, the desperation of his tone making your entire body buzz with anticipation.

“Of course,” you sound winded, but Mingyu sighs in content, hastily working to remove your shorts after swiftly unbuttoning the waistband. He’s quick to capture your lips with his again, the hunger clear in the way he pushes into you, easily pulling your shorts off and discarding them on the floor.

Mingyu’s eyes are wild when he leans back to observe you, his look darkening as he focuses in on your bare thighs. He practically loses his mind when he notices a wet spot on your panties, the cotton slightly darkened and he’s dropping to his knees before you can protest.

He’s at a perfect height, large hands grabbing onto your ass in order to pull you towards the edge of the counter, his eyeline leading right where you’re the most vulnerable.

“Can I please taste you?”

“Please,” you beg, head throwing back in pleasure when he slots his mouth over your panties, nose nudging your most sensitive spot as he sucks at the wettened fabric. His mouth his hot on your clothed cunt, sending a ping of delight through you as he licks at the cotton. “Not enough.”

Mingyu moans as if to acknowledge your plea, one finger hooking at the fabric before his tongue dives between your folds. He’s immediately messy with his actions, tongue lapping passionately, tasting as much of your sweet nectar as possible as he works you closer and closer towards your first burst of overwhelming heat within your core.

Your hands are weaved in his hair again, encouraging him to lap and suck on your clit as the pulses of pleasure become even more unbearable to hold. He coaxes you to your first orgasm with one sharp suck to your clit, your juices spill out all over his tongue as he gladly licks it all up.

Mingyu doesn’t give you much time to recoup, standing back up to kiss you hungrily, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue as he begins to work at his belt buckle. With your help, he’s able to pull his corduroys off, reaching for a condom in his wallet before dropping the pants to the ground.

He’s unable to roll it on himself as you kiss and nibble at his neck, desperate whines escaping Mingyu’s mouth as you decide to take over. He feels a bit of relief when you work it onto his cock easily, the tight latex squeezing his aching length as you begin to slowly jerk him off.

Mingyu’s close to losing his mind when your hips buck in anticipation, your small hand still working at his length, and he stutter out a request. “C-Can I- please feel you completely?”

“Yes,” you moan, hips lining up with his as his tip glides between your folds, sensitivity sending a jolt through your body when he brushes your clit. “God, Mingyu, just do it.”

Mingyu’s length slowly enters you, your walls sucking him in without hesitation, waves of pleasure immediately warming you as his length and girth fills you all too perfectly.

Mingyu’s hands are gripping at your hips, his own muscles shaking as your walls take him in easily. You’re squeezing his cock in a way that has him moaning a bit too loud, your shushes reminding him that he is at work, and you are still in the rink. Even if the music drowns out your noises.

His thrusts are slow at first, ensuring that you can take every inch of him before he picks up his pace. Mingyu’s moans only get louder as your walls begin to pulse, squeezing with each unforgiving thrust of his hips, becoming groans as he dips his head into your neck, teeth sucking harshly at your skin as you breathe out in ecstasy.

He’s precise with each thrust, his tip nailing a spot so deep inside of you that you begin to see stars as your eyes roll back in pleasure. Your hands grip at Mingyu’s back, an attempt to ground yourself as Mingyu’s length fills you so deliciously, that you think you’ll be addicted for the rest of your life.

“Holy shit,” you cry out at one particularly hard thrust, the fiery heat building at your core, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep quiet, nor how much longer you can keep your second orgasm at bay. “M-Mingyu.”

Something flips in Mingyu when you moan out his name, hand coming up to grab you chin as he forces your eyes to meet his. His pace quickens impossibly, his pubic bone brushing against your clit occasionally and bringing you closer to your breaking point.

He’s egged on by the wild look in your eyes, your swollen lips as his name falls from your mouth like a prayer, and he encourages you to come as obscene sounds come from the space where you and he connect.

“Make a mess of me, Y/N,” he pleads, even when he’s hammering into you there’s a hint of desperation in his tone, and all you can think about is making him fall apart himself. Your walls clench tighter around him, pulling yet another groan from him as the burning pleasure in your core explodes throughout your body, your thighs shaking as you feel the release spread like wildfire.

Mingyu is quick to follow, hot cum filling the condom inside of you, sending a second wave warmth throughout your core as his cock pulses. Mingyu’s canines dig deeply into your shoulder in attempt to hide his groans, only intensifying the sensitivity of your throbbing clit as he continues to thrust shallowly inside of you, riding out his high until the last second.

You’re like two naïve kids in love when he pulls his length out, tossing the soiled condom into the trash and making a note to really clean up the backroom before he leaves tonight. He giggles bashfully into your neck, observing the dark marks he left from his attempts to muffle his noises, but it only leaves him desiring this more and more. His nose comes up to nudge yours, pulling you in for one final sweet kiss.

“What about another lesson?” He whispers between kisses. “Looks like you’re a pro out there now.”

“I don’t think I’ll be needing those anymore,” you giggle, squirming as Mingyu fixes your panties back into place. He looks a bit disappointed, as if he’s unsure where to go from here. Slowly he helps you get dressed, buttoning up your shorts after he pulls his own pants back on.

“Y/N?” Mingyu tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you nod expectantly. “You know I don’t just give out free lessons to anyone, right?”

You almost laugh boisterously, but you simmer down quickly as Mingyu’s lips form a slight pout. “Oh really?”

“Yes, really,” he says very matter of fact, “I only offer them to the most special of people. I even tied your laces extra tightly to make sure you wouldn’t twist your ankle. Yet look where we are now.”

“Well, I did learn from the best,” you prod, “I guess you didn’t teach me to watch out for Julie’s though.”

Mingyu chuckles, the same endearing sound you’ve grown used to. “That’s true, I guess no professional could have been prepared for Julie’s antics.”

“So, what now?”

“What about a date? Or a couple’s skate? Think you can keep up with me?”

You laugh teasingly, “how about can you keep up with me?”

“I should have never sold you those skates,” Mingyu jokes, pinching your nose, but his eyes give away that he’s in way too deep, absolutely head over heels about you. “Why don’t we go test that out? How about we test out that theory every weekend?”

Roller skates and Saturday night disco lights. How could you have ever wanted nothing to do with these two things?

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