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sanakiras · 10 months ago

Text

BLOOM FOR ME

PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader

WORD COUNT — 18.1k

SYNOPSIS — 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.

TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!

♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song

NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x

you and kim mingyu just don't work.

to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.

and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.

all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.

you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.

soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.

and then there’s mingyu.

he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.

the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.

you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.

yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.

perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.

non-existent.

neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.

for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.

or, well — that used to be the case.

because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.

it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.

had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.

it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.

but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.

neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.

after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.

but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.

when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.

“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.

“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“what we did. together.”

“we fucked. so what?”

oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.

“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”

“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”

“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”

“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”

even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.

“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”

sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”

his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.

“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”

“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.

“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.

to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.

many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?

he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.

mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.

he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.

his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.

if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.

and now, those feelings have only increased.

his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.

then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.

god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?

it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.

when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—

—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.

it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?

then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.

he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.

cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”

“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”

that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.

the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.

your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.

it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.

tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.

which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.

by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.

well, shit.

the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.

what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.

he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.

it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don’t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.

“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”

mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.

it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.

it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.

both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.

it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.

mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.

“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”

oh.

he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.

so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”

“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”

“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”

you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”

the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”

“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”

god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.

“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”

mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”

“not even a little bit?”

you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”

he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”

“i said no basics.”

“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”

“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.

“you’re evil.”

“thank you.”

he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”

“congratulations.”

“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”

“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”

mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”

“oh, you mean like a conversation?”

he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”

“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”

“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”

“which of your friends is closest to you?”

yeah, he should’ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.

he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”

“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.

“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”

“no.”

“why?”

“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”

“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”

“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it then?”

“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”

he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.

physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”

“okay. anything i should know?”

you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”

he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”

not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.

mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.

once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”

“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.

“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.

and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.

it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.

“hey. mingyu.”

he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”

“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”

“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.

“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”

“many times, actually.”

“good. ‘cause you are.”

jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.

“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.

mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”

“what does she do?”

“law.”

“she nice?”

“to a specific group of people, yeah.”

“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”

“not mean. just distant. very distant.”

“that’s new.”

“what is?”

“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”

“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”

“how do you know?”

mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”

“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”

the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”

jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”

“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”

a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”

“soonyoung’s party.”

“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.

“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”

“ah, you like her.”

“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”

“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”

mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”

“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”

“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”

“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”

“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”

jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”

“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”

“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”

“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”

right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.

“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.

it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”

jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”

he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”

mingyu frowns at that. “how?”

and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”

the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.

someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.

you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”

“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”

“no, i like it this way.”

“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”

“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”

“what’re you working on?”

“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”

he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.

“are you always this much on edge?”

“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”

the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”

“not exactly the word i would use.”

“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”

you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”

he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”

“yeah. i’m not attending.”

“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”

“gosh, poor you.”

“i’m serious. it sucks.”

“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”

“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”

“so?”

“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.

“why?”

“why not?”

“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”

“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”

he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”

“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”

you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”

he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”

“ten.”

“dress code?”

“go for a cocktail dress.”

twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”

“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”

“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”

and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.

mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?

you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”

he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.

the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”

“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”

“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”

“must get quiet after a while.”

“i like it that way.”

your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.

once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.

you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.

as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”

the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”

mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.

the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”

which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”

before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.

“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”

“noted.”

once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.

and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.

“you okay?”

“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.

he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.

“am i imagining things—”

“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”

joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”

mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.

but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.

what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.

“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”

in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”

“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.

you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”

“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”

“why?”

“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”

his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”

whatever the fuck that means.

your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.

the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.

and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.

mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.

being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.

so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.

you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.

chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.

though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.

after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”

mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”

you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.

the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.

mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.

as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.

his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”

“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”

he snickers. “you hear that often?”

“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”

“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”

“doesn’t everyone?”

“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”

“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.

mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”

he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”

“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”

“why?”

when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.

“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.

before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.

whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.

“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.

so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”

they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”

he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.

it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”

the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”

“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”

she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.

but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”

and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”

you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”

the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.

worst thing is that she’s probably right.

you and mingyu just don’t work.

and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?

the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.

when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”

even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”

“i’m fine.”

“i’ll take you back.”

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”

mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.

then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.

goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.

she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.

mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.

the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.

god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.

you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.

of course it’s him.

“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.

“why am i here?”

“what do you mean?”

you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”

“are you angry at me?”

“answer the question.”

“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”

you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”

“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”

“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”

“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”

what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.

you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”

“well—what?”

“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”

“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”

“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.

it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.

“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.

so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”

he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.

whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.

his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.

mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.

there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.

you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.

holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.

“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”

the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”

with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

“are you sure?”

“yeah. please let me.”

“okay. just make it quick.”

in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.

your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.

his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.

another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.

“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.

it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.

“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.

you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.

“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”

the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”

he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.

mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.

“god—want me to fuck you?”

pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“fine. bend over the sink, then.”

the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.

so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.

his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.

all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”

you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”

it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”

“don’t act like you don’t like it.”

he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”

god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.

his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.

and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.

“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.

“how hard d’you want it?”

“as hard as you want. i can take it.”

he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.

his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.

you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.

it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”

“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”

you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”

“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.

mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.

you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.

he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.

“are you gonna cum, gyu?”

you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”

“i want you to.”

“jesus, don’t say that—”

oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.

“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.

his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”

“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”

his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.

it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.

he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”

he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”

“you’re quite literally inside me.”

“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”

“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”

“great. level 2 is next, then.”

“god, forget i said anything.”

“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”

something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.

because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.

and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.

the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.

and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.

he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.

it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.

something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.

so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.

20:23: you look cute when you’re focused

the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.

so he texts back.

20:24: i always look cute ;)

tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”

“no. you’re just scary.”

“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”

“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”

“wanna come over to my dorm?”

“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”

“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”

“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”

as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.

“mingyu.”

“hm?”

“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”

he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”

“she likes you.”

“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”

“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.

that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.

“what?”

“you’re jealous.”

“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.

“it’s actually kinda hot.”

“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”

“and yet you are.”

“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”

he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.

as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.

once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.

you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”

“i’m fine.”

he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”

you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.

mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.

so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”

he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”

when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”

“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”

“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”

“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.

“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”

“do you even have the time to help me?”

he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”

“always so humble.”

“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”

“whatever makes you sleep at night.”

mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.

he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.

and you hate how easily you get used to it.

for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.

which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.

so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.

as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.

“your girlfriend texting you again?”

mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”

“she might as well be.”

“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”

shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”

“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”

joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.

“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”

ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”

“have you told her you like her?”

“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”

joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”

“is she open with you?”

“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”

mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.

give it time.

which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.

you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.

just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember — it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.

a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.

“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”

his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”

“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”

“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”

with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”

“what do you have in mind?”

he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”

now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”

he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”

you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.

damn that asshole for making you like him this much.

saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.

mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.

it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.

your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.

then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.

before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.

he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.

mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.

watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.

you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.

shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.

it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.

you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.

the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.

it’s all yells of happiness on the field.

the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.

you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.

following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.

mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.

when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.

he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.

but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”

“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.

“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”

you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”

he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”

“something i’m very aware of.”

he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.

“wanna go catch a drink with me?”

“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”

“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”

he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”

you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.

“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.

you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”

“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.

once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”

oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.

you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”

you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”

christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.

he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.

you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.

“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.

his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.

you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.

arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.

“fuck, fuck, baby—”

you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”

it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.

his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”

“‘m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”

he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.

the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.

both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.

you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.

“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.

maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”

“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”

he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”

“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.

he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?

another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call �� and you find yourself worried about him.

it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.

you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.

it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.

when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.

the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”

he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”

“absolutely.”

he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”

you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”

he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”

you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”

the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”

he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”

his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”

as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”

“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”

your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”

his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.

as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.

you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.

maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.

one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.

you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.

now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.

you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.

they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.

still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.

smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.

out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.

you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.

when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.

slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.

you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.

‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’

he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.

and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.

you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.

looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”

“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.

you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”

“is there anything i can do in return?”

“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”

the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”

a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”

your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”

it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”

“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”

the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.

he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.

and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.

whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.

but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.

after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.

when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”

“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”

“i haven’t been avoiding you.”

“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”

you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”

he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”

“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.

“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”

“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.

“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”

he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”

it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”

“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”

“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.�� his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”

either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.

your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.

kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.

so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.

he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.

“fuck.”

it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.

which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.

it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.

you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”

minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”

hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.

“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.

“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”

he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.

your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.

mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”

he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.

there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”

they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.

he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”

“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”

“it’s not that easy.”

seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

the other two just deadpan a stare at him.

on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.

you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.

the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.

as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.

“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”

when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.

personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.

biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”

“and? what’s your judgement?”

“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”

he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”

him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.

people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.

and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.

in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.

“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.

you exhale when he doesn’t.

knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.

minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.

as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”

“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”

he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”

you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”

“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”

taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”

minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”

the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”

he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”

you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”

hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”

with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.

there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.

“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

“mind if i join you?”

of course. why are you even surprised?

without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”

“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.

you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”

luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.

he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.

since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.

the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.

his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.

you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.

liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.

the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.

“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”

“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”

your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”

of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?

mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”

that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.

“can i ask you something?”

you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.

“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”

an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”

“why not?”

blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”

“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”

“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”

he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.

“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.

“no, you don’t.”

“how would you know?”

you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”

“why?”

“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”

“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”

“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”

mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”

“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”

“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”

“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”

“since… always.”

“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”

“no, but i liked you.”

“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”

“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”

“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”

it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.

every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.

but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.

another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.

the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.

“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”

his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”

the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”

it’s not often you’re speechless.

he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.

“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”

he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”

“have a good night, gyu.”

you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.

as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”

letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”

“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”

you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.

“why do you even want me to?”

“‘cause i like you.”

“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”

“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”

“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”

his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.

mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.

“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”

you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”

but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”

“why don’t you wanna try?”

“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”

“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”

“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”

“then explain them to me!”

“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”

“no, i wouldn’t.”

“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”

“how do you even know that?”

“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”

“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”

the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”

“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”

“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.

and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.

“i don’t wanna lose you.”

he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”

his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.

it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.

mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.

he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.

you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

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eoieopda · 1 year ago

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the one with mingyu and the twin bed

summary: you brought your boyfriend to your parents’ house for christmas dinner. he can’t get a grip because you can’t keep yours to yourself. pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader type: drabble (smut) | rating: 18+ | wc: 3.5k au: est. relationship, home for the holidays cw: teasing, teasing, teasing; unprotected sex; mingyu is a pouty lil simp; multiple orgasms; reader rides it like she stole it and has to keep him quiet in the process :’) a/n: nobody asked, i just have mingyu brain rot 🥲 🚨 MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS WHO INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED. MY WORK IS NOT FOR YOU.

You might kill him. And really, if that’s not your goal, it’s still the most likely result. This road you’ve chosen starts with a squeeze of his knee under the table, travels up his thigh and — well, Mingyu can imagine how it ends, but not when or where. That’s the problem.

Well, that’s the primary problem.

The worst part about it all is that you look so unbothered by it all. You’re laughing through conversation with your parents, who sit on the opposite side of the table, like Mingyu isn’t on the brink of passing the fuck out beside you. Like his slacks aren’t squeezing the life out of him in the same torturous way your hand is.

You’re moving so slowly that the table cloth doesn’t even flutter with your secret ministrations.

He knew you were a devil, but what fresh hell is this?

“— feeling okay?”

Mingyu has to blink himself back into reality to realize he’d been spoken to. Your father, who Mingyu had thankfully met before tonight — and made a positive, sustainable first impression on — looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow the same way yours do when you’re worried.

“Sorry,” Mingyu starts by clearing his throat. He flashes a smile that makes your mother blush, not unlike the way you usually do. “I was daydreaming about that galbi jjim from earlier. Don’t know if I’ll ever eat better.”

That’s a lie, he thinks immediately. Dessert is one seat over, fingertips whispering over his inseam, and Mingyu’s mouth is already watering at the thought. But he’s stuck. You’re untouchable as long as the pair of you are at this table, and you’re untouchable upstairs for more reasons than one.

Your mother is flustered — so is Mingyu, but for an entirely different reason — and she glances up at your father. His smile is a flat line, but it reads like approval. She elbows him gently.

“See, yeobo?” She quips, “I told you he was charming.”

Then, she turns to look at you with a firm nod. “You picked well.”

“To be clear, Mingyu picked me,” You laugh, waving your free hand dismissively. “With the amount of girls queuing up for his attention, he had options — a lot of them. I just lucked out.”

At this, he short-circuits, so much so that he nearly sprays the wine he’s sipping all over the table and your unsuspecting parents.

“Oh, no, no. Not even close,” He sputters, earning a surprised giggle from your mother. Faked offense pulls the corners of his mouth down, puckers his lips into an pout around his words. “I had to beg for your phone number, if I recall —”

“Did you really?” Your mother gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, as if she’s watching one of the daytime dramas she’s always talking about.

Your father looks smug as he reaches his arm out over the table, fingers closed over his palm. The hand you aren’t using to commit unspeakable crimes lifts to meet his fist over the acorn jelly, knuckles tapping lightly.

Your father smirks, “That’s my girl.”

You look at Mingyu fully now, not from the corner of your eye the way you had been. It’s downright spooky how your face can look that innocent at a time like this. That is, until you bite down on your plush lower lip.

Fuck.

Is he about to faint? He really might faint.

“Okay, fine. You’re right,” You demur with a shrug.

That sweet smile of yours is unbelievably misleading, but goddamn, does it look good on you.

“I didn’t make it very easy for you, did I?”

He tries not to clench his jaw when you flatten your palm and squeeze the highest, innermost part of his thigh. He fails miserably. After all, you’re running out of real estate; and Mingyu’s running out of resolve.

This is it for me, he thinks. Remember me as I was: a fucking simp.

Thankfully, both of your parents stand up to carry dishes off to be washed. They cross the threshold into the kitchen and miss the way Mingyu’s head slumps back against his chair. So desperate and defeated, he ignores the way his skull aches after colliding with the oak backrest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the sweet release of death.

When their footfalls are no longer audible, Mingyu assumes they’re out of sight. You shift, but he doesn’t crack his eyes open until he feels the heat of your breath on the shell of his ear. His gaze locks on the ceiling when you whisper, “Can you blame me? It’s so cute when you beg.”

If his dick strains any harder against his pants, the zipper may break.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Mingyu gulps. He shakes his head, voice wavering. “Baby, I’m gonna drop dead in your childhood home — on Christmas, no less — and it’s gonna be all your fault.”

The tip of your nose nudges the side of his face as you place a kiss on his earlobe. The white knuckle grip he holds on the edge of the table is the only thing keeping him together, and you know it. Still, the feather-light touch of your fingertips finds what it’s after. They trace the outline of his bulge through his slacks, and before he can stop himself, Mingyu audibly sighs.

He’d tell you to stop if he could jumpstart his brain. That’s a lie, he corrects himself. He doesn’t want you to stop; he just wants you. Wants you so badly that it hurts.

“Attempted murder,” Mingyu mumbles helplessly.

God, he’s pathetic.

Head slumped to the side, he finally allows himself to look at you. Immediately, he has to wonder: is there anyone who wouldn’t beg for you? He’d be on his knees in a heartbeat if your parents weren’t loading a dishwasher, several meters away. He’d clear the table himself, too, if sweeping his arm overtop and sending silverware to the ground counted for anything.

Unbothered by the internal crisis you’ve started in him, you stroke him slowly, like you have all the time in the world to end him; and not a care at all that you might get caught in the process. The kiss you leave on his jaw is so soft — and so laughably chaste, all things considered — that he’s not sure it even happened. To keep from pleading out loud, he grinds his teeth even more harshly together.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Mingyu.

His prayers are answered immediately, which makes him a little bit suspicious — and a lot more feral.

You hum, amusement downright musical, and he shivers. “I’m going to help them finish down here. Wait for me upstairs?”

When Mingyu shoots up to his feet, the force of his thighs against the underside of the table threatens to flip it. The remaining wine glasses wobble in place, but thankfully, you’d all killed the bottle some time ago; no drop is left to be spilled. He still cringes at the close call, though. With a grimace, he mutters rapid-fire apologies — whether to you, the glassware, or the God of Dirty Thoughts, he’s not sure.

You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from laughing, which Mingyu appreciates. His clumsiness would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so incomprehensibly horny. All that blood flow has been redirected away from his brain, though, and his dirty mind can’t focus on how not cool he’s being about all of this.

Just you, that little smirk on your lips, and the million ways he wants your mouth on him.

Once he steadies himself, it only takes a second for Mingyu to race towards the stairs. Any and all chill he might’ve had is left behind him in a cloud of dust.

It’s downright cartoonish, the way he scrambles up the steps — stumbling, knees colliding with the hardwood as he goes — but it’s effective. He reaches the landing in record time, then all but kicks open the door to your childhood bedroom. As soon as the doorknob collides with the wall behind it, Mingyu freezes in place.

That wall, he realizes, is the only barrier between your room and your parents’. Worse, your old bed is set longways against that very wall. And because the hits just keep on coming, it’s a twin bed.

With a frilly purple duvet and shockingly minimal surface area, no less.

Horrified, Mingyu steps forward and places his hand flat against the small mattress. It doesn’t take much pressure to make the bed springs squeak — when has anything ever gone his way? — and that revelation nearly has him screaming obscenities at the ceiling.

Fuck.

How is he supposed to fuck you under these conditions?

Frantic, he closes the door behind him, shuffles forward, and drops to his knees next to the bed. At his height, the frame barely reaches his midriff. Clearly, his life is a fucking joke.

Elbows now resting on the mattress, Mingyu clasps his hands together and leans forward to rest his forehead against his knuckles.

He’s never tried this before — not earnestly, anyway — and he doesn’t know where to start. Whatever the reason, he’s sure he can’t pray to any listening deity to let him get his dick wet. Anyone who hears his cry would smite him on the spot, he thinks, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Before he can settle on a prayer, footsteps sound off on the stairs just outside the door. The words are muffled; but there are multiple voices, which tells him that one or both of your parents have joined you on your journey upstairs. Suddenly, Mingyu is overcome with guilt.

He’s in their home, having eaten their food — and now he’s a full-blown heretic, wanting nothing more than to devour their daughter like a man starved. But he can’t because, if he does, they’ll hear every dirty detail and —

Mingyu is many things, but he is not quiet.

You are, however, and he can barely make it out when you say, “Thank you, again, for dinner. And for letting us stay overnight.”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Your mother peeps. Mingyu freezes, knowing in the rational part of his brain she can’t see him, but unable to stop himself. “It’s our pleasure! Really, it’s a long drive back for you two —”

Your father interjects, “— and Mingyu must be exhausted if he’s already in bed.”

For personal reasons, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, I will be passing away.

There’s a moment of silence in which you must be hugging your parents goodnight, then there’s the quiet creak of the door opening. Footsteps, then more silence — you pausing for a moment, likely taking in the sight of him, then the door shutting softly behind you.

He can’t hear your approach over the hammering pulse in his ears, but he can feel the warmth of your body when you stand closely behind him. On instinct, he leans back onto his heels. A reflex of your own, you card your fingers through his hair and turn him into putty.

As embarrassing as it is to reckon with the fact, Mingyu acknowledges that the massage of your fingers might make him cum in his trousers.

“Were you praying?” You whisper, giggle evident despite the hushed tone. Your fingernails rake gently over his scalp; he swallows hard.

Mingyu is past the point of attempting nonchalance, so he confesses immediately. “Need divine intervention at a time like this. A twin bed? Parents? I’m doomed.”

“Maybe.” You lean down over his shoulder to purr into his ear. “Doomed or not, you look so perfect on your knees.”

That comment reverberates down his spine, ricochets off every vertebrae as it goes. He has to bite down on his fist to keep from groaning. It sure as shit doesn’t stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.

You drop your hand from his hair to trail your fingers down the length of his neck, then across the top of his shoulder. As you do, you step out from behind him and into his line of sight. You, illuminated only by a small, butterfly-shaped lamp, confirm his suspicions:

Ariana Grande was right all along. God is a woman.

You maintain eye contact as you reach behind your back and begin unzipping your dress. The burgundy fabric pools at your bare feet, having slipped right over the silkiness of your thighs without issue. If he wasn’t already in his knees, Mingyu would’ve dropped the same way.

“How confident are you that you can be quiet?” You ask softly. “Stakes are high, and you’re normally so vocal.”

Right out of the gate, he trips.

Mingyu responds with bravado and without whispering, “I can do it.”

Then, he slaps his hand over his big fucking mouth.

Biting back a smile, you reach out for the collar of his shirt. The buttons are undone with care, like any and every decibel is too much of a risk. You hum as you continue your work, “We can make it a challenge, then. If you can stay quiet, I’ll let you cum.”

He lets you slide his shirt off his frame as soon as you’re finished with it. It lands where your dress did, wrinkling white on top of red.

“If you can’t —” You pause and gesture down to his belt buckle, which he’s already gripping tightly to. It’s undone before you can blink, which causes the side of your mouth to twitch upwards. “— I’ll stop.”

Mingyu nods, more determined than he’s ever been, and pushes himself to his feet. Less nimbly than you, he fumbles desperately with the button and zipper at the top of his trousers. Eventually, he frees himself and they drop, too. They land with a muffled sound before being kicked blindly aside.

Your gaze drops to his briefs, pupils dilating when you see the mess you’ve made of him. The dark grey fabric is close to black at the tip of his dick, arousal seeping into the fibers and tattling on him. That is, if the blatantly thick imprint of his length hadn’t sold him out already.

His knees threaten to buckle all over again when he sees a flash of pink swipe over your lips, wetting them as your eyes grow even darker.

No, he really might cum on the spot.

You step over your discarded clothes. Closing the distance, you flatten your palms against his bare chest, push up on your toes, and kiss him properly for the first time in hours. His only instinct is to whine like a fucking baby when his lips part and you lick into his mouth, but he refuses to break this close to the starting whistle.

No, Mingyu will keep his shit together. He has to keep his shit together — even as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth and release it swollen with a pop.

“What do you want, baby?”

He doesn’t know if it’s his chest or your hands that are burning up, but a wildfire spreads as you run your palms down from his pectorals to his abdomen. Every muscle in his body tenses as your touch lowers. His lungs seem to, too, because he struggles to keep his breaths even.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, knuckles tickling against the sensitive skin underneath his hip bones. You continue your questioning, as if he trusts himself to answer.

“My mouth?”

Oh god.

He wants it all, always and every which way, but he knows he won’t last a goddamn second in your throat — and you know it, too, even before he furiously shakes his head.

Eyes laser focused on you, he does his best to beg without words. The puppy-dog eyes win you over every time.

When you smile at him like that — petal soft, still so devilish — he audibly sighs. There’s no helping him, he knows it. It’s a reflex, a rubber mallet to the knee. Thankfully, you let that breathy concession slide; let his briefs slide, too, until they drop unwanted around his ankles.

Mingyu is so hard that it hurts.

He’s a throbbing, leaking mess when your hand finally — fucking finally — wraps around his cock. Experimentally, you give him a light squeeze while you work the length. Your gaze flicks upwards to gauge his reaction, wrist rolling when you reach the crown.

If he had to guess, Mingyu would bet that he’s turned purple with the effort it’s taking to keep his needy mouth shut. But your eyes twinkle up at him and you tell him that he’s beautiful; and suddenly, his chest and cheeks go a shy shade of pink.

“Lay down, pretty boy,” you whisper, nodding your head towards that shitty little bed.

As he stretches out onto his back — to the best of his ability, with his heels nearly dangling off the end — he swears on his life that his friends can never know how weak he gets when you call him that.

You place your hands on his chest to keep your balance, lifting one leg over his until you’re straddling him. Your right knee settles uncomfortably between his leg and the wall, but you don’t complain. Instead, you look him dead in the eye and pull your fatal, black thong to the side.

Even in this piss-poor lighting, Mingyu can see the way your darkened eyes glint. He’s spellbound — there’s no other word to describe it.

One hand takes hold of his cock and lines it up to your cunt. The other raises to your lips, index finger extended. You tease him without saying a word, and he hears it loud and clear.

Oh, he’s going to be so good for you.

That’s what he tells himself until your arousal makes contact with the tip of his cock. That’s what he repeats in his head, over and over, when you sink down and gush around him, slick dripping to coat the centimeters that don’t quite fit inside of you. What he says out loud, elongated and definitely above a whisper, is:

“Fuuuuck.”

You quickly lean over his chest to cover his mouth with your hand. Though your pulses are both racing, he’s less focused on his total, abject embarrassment than he is on the amusement that causes your mouth to curve.

Keeping your hand where it is — for the good of everyone, really — you nip at his earlobe. He waits for the inevitable consequence of his actions.

Goddamn it. How stupid does he have to be to forfeit a prize like you?

“You don’t listen very well, baby,” Your hushed tone drips like honey into his ear. Involuntarily, his hips jerk upwards, pushing further into your wet heat.

Any distance is too much.

“But you feel so fucking good —”

Again, he ruts against you when your teeth graze his earlobe. Under your palm, his whimpering is unintelligible, but that doesn’t stop him. You catch his groan in your hand before it can hit the air.

“— might have to bend the rules for you.”

It’s torture.

Mingyu knows you’re moving this slowly to avoid upsetting the box springs below, but whether or not there’s method to the madness, it’s still unbearable.

You swirl your hips in a way that makes his vision go white at the edges, grind down into his lap with quiet precision. He can feel that soft, spongy spot hiding behind your front wall; and he can hear those delicate little sighs as you fuck yourself deliberately.

He can feel his mind go blank, too, moments before your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. You don’t stop once he spills himself inside of you — you won’t, he hopes.

“Oh, shit,” you whimper, almost inaudibly. “I’m so close.”

The hand not covering his mouth disappears between your legs. If the way your eyes roll back is any indication, you’ve found what you were looking for.

The sight of you is too much for Mingyu to handle. Nipples peaking through the translucent fabric of your bralette, wrist moving in the opposite direction of your hips, eyelashes fluttering while you rub spirals into your clit. Perfect, top to bottom.

Mingyu cums again when you do, refractory period be damned.

And when you collapse down onto his chest, walls still fluttering around him, he encircles you with his arm so tightly that he can feel you trembling through the aftershocks. With your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck, the tables turn.

“Fuck,” you mutter. The sound is mostly lost against his skin, but there’s enough volume to make you both start to snicker.

You kiss his neck, nudge him with the tip of your nose. Whispering, you ask, “Not bad for a twin bed, huh?”

Mingyu snorts. “Kinda feels like high school. You know, parents on the other side of the wall, cute little bedspread,” His voice trails off so he can press his lips against your temple. Voice low in your ear, he smirks, “Nutting within thirty seconds.”

Your muffled laughter shakes his shoulders, too. Then, you fall into a silence so easy he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep on top of him. To his surprise, you peep, “I didn’t think this through.”

He hums inquisitively in response. You crane your neck to meet his eyes.

You inhale deeply, then sigh, “I have to waddle down the hallway of my childhood home to the bathroom — right past my parents’ door — and pretend like we didn’t just do what we did.”

Mingyu flashes you a wolfish grin that catches you off guard. Your eyebrows raise in anticipation.

“Need some divine intervention, sounds like. Maybe if you pray about it —”

The only thing louder than the playful smack you land on his bicep is your laugh, straight from the bottom of your chest.

#jade’s drabbles #jade writes #svt #svt drabbles #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt smut #kim mingyu #mingyu drabble #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #kmg #btshoneyhive #re: the one with mingyu and the twin bed

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froghwon · 1 year ago

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live train wreck cam

#svtsource #svtdaily #svtcreations #going seventeen #seventeen #mingyu #svt #vicsedits #kmg #thats a goober if i've ever seen one :p #he belongs in super weenie hut jrs #also me posting gifs???#i wouldnt get used to it 😅😅#but maybe i'll post regularly for a bit before i get too tired again >.<

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hearteyes4hobi · 10 days ago

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ADORE ME, HOLD ME AND EXPLORE ME ♡ (kmg)

juno- sabrina carpenter

"adore me, hold me and explore me mark your territory, i'm so fuckin' horny"

"cant help myself, hormones are high. Give me more than butterflies"

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

a/n: GUYS THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT AND FIRST TIME WRITING A ONE SHOT IN GENERAL IM SCREAMING I'VE BEEN WANTING TO DO THIS FOREVERRRR. i hope you don't hate this, but remember i am new to this!!! be nice plz...i am open to feedback and would love to hear what you think :) my asks are open for requests, comments, questions, or anything always. i listened to juno so much this happened and i am so sorry im ovul*ting

warnings: breeding kink, lots of cum, they fuck on a car sorry, all porn no plot, reader squirts, outside kinda, pure filth tbh, hints of future baby

wc: 982

When you first started dating your boyfriend Mingyu, you both agreed it would be a couple years before you would even think about having children. Being young and in love had its perks and you didn’t want to spoil it with a newborn just yet. It isn’t until you see Mingyu outside with the hood of your car open and a bag of tools on his waist that makes you consider dropping everything to have his children. The way his honey golden skin was damp and glistening in the sunlight had you completely thoughtless and drooling. You felt some sort of carnal desire flow through you that can only be blamed on your ovulation cycle and maybe Mingyu’s huge biceps.

“(y/n) can you come help with something really fast?” you hear Mingyu shout from outside and you drop everything to see what he may need. Walking towards the car, you see him smiling mischievously.

“How can I help the cute mechanic today?” you say to him teasingly. He looks heavenly, he has grease on his forehead and all over his clothes, but he’s never looked more attractive to you than at this moment. God damn hormones.

“I just wanted to see your face, plus I saw you staring at me and figured you’d love an up-close view better.” He replied smugly with a huge smile on his face.

“I can’t help myself okay, my hormones are high lately. Plus, my boyfriend is too goodlooking, what am I supposed to do?” you say as you hug him tightly, being overly affectionate.

He squeezes you tightly and picks you up off the ground slightly.

“Aw baby, what am I gonna do with you? Distracting me while I’m working isn’t very nice. Gonna have to fuck you dumb to get you calm down now, aren’t I?” Mingyu whispers in your ear seductively.

“You look so sexy out here working, Mingyu. You might have to put a baby in my belly to truly satisfy me.” You whine while looking into his darkening eyes, daring him to make a move. Mingyu quickly grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for a deep kiss. You immediately put your hands into his hair. Not wanting to spend too much time kissing, you needed him now. You begin sliding your hands down his chest, all the way to the button of his jeans.

Breaking the kiss, Mingyu mutters, “you vixen…can’t ever have enough, can you? I thought I fucked you well last night, but you always want more. Such a greedy whore for me, is that it baby?”

Already feeling dumb and fucked out listening to his filthy words, you nod in agreement, letting the arousal take you.

“Gonna fuck you right here on the hood of the car, bet you’d love that huh (y/n)?”

You whine out loudly as he bends you over onto the hood of the car. The feeling of the hot metal on your skin burns with desire and anticipation for what will come. You suddenly feel Mingyu's fingers making their way to your center, pulling down your underwear, he adds two fingers into your cunt and ruts them into you making you scream loudly.

"So loud for me baby, guess you want the whole neighborhood to hear how well I fuck you." he growls out at the sight of how wet you are. It's almost picturesque how well your pussy glistens in the beaming sunlight. The squelching of his fingers is getting louder and louder as you near your climax.

“M-more Mingyu, need more, I’m so close” you manage to croak out.

“See, such a greedy whore, (y/n) can never be satisfied with what she has,” Mingyu tugs at your hair as he readjusts leaving your cunt empty and prods your entrance with his cock. “Here baby, gonna fuck you so full and give you that baby you want,” He stammers as he enters you slowly, rocking back and forth. As he bottoms out, his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“I love the way you fit, never want you to leave,” you whine as he enters you fully. You swear you’ve never been this horny ever in your life. Being bent over the hood of his car is doing things to you, and you swear you could cum at any second. You begin to move as to signal to Mingyu you are ready. He begins drilling into you like a dog in heat. “I’m gonna cum, fuck I’m so close baby.. please,” you croak out as he fucks you into oblivion.

“Yeah angel? Gonna let me cum inside you? Your pussy is begging for my cum I can feel you milking my cock every time I speak, you drive me crazy.” Mingyu lifts one of your legs onto his shoulder and begins rutting into you deeper and faster. After a couple more thrusts you feel your climax rising. Suddenly you’re hit with the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had. You see stars and feel euphoric.

“Holy fuck baby,” Mingyu growls and you realize you squirted all over the hood of his freshly clean car. “That was so hot oh my god,” he states in disbelief and begins hammering into you even harder to chase his climax. “Almost there angel, you did so well, put on a show for me and everything.” All it takes is a couple more thrusts and Mingyu is moaning your name as he is pumping you full of cum. “Gonna make sure you’re stuffed full, don’t let it fall out baby. Wanna see you all big and full carrying our baby, yeah?”

You kiss Mingyu as he finishes riding out his high. Both of you are so full of love for each other you truly can’t wait for the future together, and who knows, maybe having two of you isn’t such a bad thing after all.

#seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #seventeen x reader #svt smut #kmg smut #mingyu

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lauvinchi · 1 month ago

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seventeen 'spill the feels' ver. 2 feel you layouts (97z) ✰

like and reblog if you'll save or use it, drop an ask for requests 🖤

photos (especially headers) are not mine, ctto

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luvyoonsvt · 2 months ago

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healing with love+tea

kim mingyu x leitora

nada como um noivo atencioso equipado com muito carinho, amor, remédios e habilidades culinárias para sumir com uma crise alérgica antes que ela te derrube por completo.

gênero: fluff, um pouquinho sugestivo

pt-br

conteúdo: leitora fem; insinuação sexual leve; mingyu noivo!!! muito preocupado, mas pronto pra tudo; leitora tá com alergia (obviamente) e mingyu ajuda muito.

avisos: !conteúdo sugestivo! (bem no final, carícias e afins, mas não muito detalhado pois não sou boa descrevendo mesmo); uso de apelidos carinhosos (bebê, amor, etc); menções a sintomas de alergia.

contagem: 2050 palavras (aproximadamente)

notas: olá! eu tenho o hábito estranho de postar muito tarde, desculpem. enfim, aqui vai um pouquinho de mingyu, pois ele é todo meu amorzinho. fiquei com isso guardado e não consegui postar ontem. revisei, mas pode ter errinhos, então peço desculpar de antemão.

a rotina doméstica ao lado de mingyu era uma das melhores coisas do mundo. e isso vindo de alguém que se negava a ter relacionamentos extensos ou aprofundar suas paixões. muitos encontros aqui, longos diálogos ali, um toque de amor sendo demonstrado de tantas formas que tornava difícil distinguir àquela altura qual exatamente era a tal "linguagem de amor" do seu noivo te levaram a atual situação.

kim mingyu era expert em presentear; expressar seu carinho com palavras, mensagens ou bilhetes; tinha o melhor abraço de todos e um beijo delicioso também, ele deve ter sido a inspiração pra quem inventou o beijo, seja lá quem tenha sido; cada segundo livre para estar com você seria muito bem aproveitado; e, é claro, ele sabia fazer de tudo, quase se sentia ofendido quando era você quem tomava a iniciativa de limpar, cozinhar ou qualquer outra coisa — parte se dava pela rotina dele ser um pouco mais flexível do que a sua, parte por ele realmente querer fazer as coisas.

em falta de palavras mais adequadas para descrever, viver com mingyu era um sonho.

naquele dia, contudo, com a pressão persistente na sua cabeça, a dor que parecia se espalhar por cada músculo e a dificuldade de respiração devido às vias aéreas parcialmente comprometidas, sua realidade quase onírica havia sido tomada por uma crise — muito possivelmente de sinusite ou qualquer outra coisa com "ite" que insistia em te perturbar.

mingyu soube que você estava doente no segundo que te viu abrir os olhos. ou ouviu, pois o simples processo de acordar tirou de você lamúrias e gemidos.

— ei, linda. tá sentindo o quê?

— tudo. tá tudo ruim, gyu — você choramingou, tentando achar uma posição confort��vel na cama.

— eu sei, bebê. mas pra eu cuidar de você, tem que me dizer o que tá ruim.

se ele tivesse que depender da sua comunicação restrita a resmungos para obter respostas concretas sobre o que te afligia, mingyu teria problemas. por sorte — ou muita prática e observação —, não era tão difícil desvendar o que estava te perturbando.

sua respiração estava esquisita, mal manteve os olhos abertos desde que acordou, seus movimentos arrastados. mingyu deduziu ser alguma crise alérgica. ele poderia dizer mais tarde, quando você melhorasse, que devia escutá-lo quando fala que frequentar um alergista era uma ótima solução. naquele momento, no entanto, recorrer à caixa de medicamentos era o mais indicado.

— vou pegar seus remédios e você pode dormir mais um pouco, ok?

— o trabalho... — você tentou formular uma frase sobre ter que avisar no trabalho que estava doente.

— eu sei, eu sei. vou mandar uma mensagem pra avisar, não se preocupa.

ter um noivo inteligente e atencioso era uma benção a qual te faria agradecer eternamente ao universo por ter sido afortunada.

em seu estado de semi inconsciência, você não soube quanto demorou para que mingyu voltasse com o remédio e um copo de água, mas ficou grata em tê-lo te ajudando, colocando-a numa posição melhor e te lembrando de dar pequenos goles para não se engasgar. ele dispensou seu agradecimento com um beijinho na sua cabeça, dizendo que sempre estaria ali para cuidar de você.

mingyu cumpriu fielmente o que disse, ficando ao seu lado até que você caísse no sono. durante o tempo em que você esteve desacordada, ele precisou fazer o sacrifício de te deixar ali — claro que muito bem acomodada, coberta e com travesseiros o suficiente — para realizar a pequena lista de tarefas que elaborou em sua mente nos últimos minutos.

✓ verificar sua temperatura ✓ enviar mensagem para o seu trabalho ✓ organizar tudo para um chá quentinho ✓ preparar uma sopa leve e nutritiva

ele sabia que corria o risco de precisar lidar com suas reclamações sobre "comida de doente" — sabia também que a lamentação cessaria depois das primeiras colheradas —, porém era uma consequência aceitável para acelerar sua melhora. com tudo pronto, mingyu voltou ao seu posto, agora com o notebook para que pudesse trabalhar perto de ti.

instintivamente, ele parou periodicamente para colocar uma das mãos na sua testa e garantir que você não tinha ficado com febre, como costumava acontecer com frequência.

numa dessas vezes, o toque gentil bastou para te acordar, apesar de não tê-lo feito nas anteriores.

— desculpa, linda. não quis te acordar.

— tudo bem, já devo estar dormindo faz tempo — você observou, enquanto se arrastava para uma posição mais sentada, mingyu deixar o notebook na mesinha ao lado da cama.

— quase duas horas. se sentindo melhor? — ele segurou seu rosto com ambas as mãos, averiguando cada centímetro seu.

— tô sim.

— ok, mas só pra garantir, tem um pouco daquela sopa e tenho tudo preparado pra um chá.

como o esperado, você resmungou, mas não negou.

foi o bastante para deixar mingyu satisfeito, porém ele ficou radiante quando você não só agradeceu, como disse que estava realmente delicioso. não tomar aquilo com frequência não quer dizer que as habilidades culinárias de seu noivo não devam ser devidamente valorizadas.

elogiar cada pequena coisa que mingyu fazia com constância era gratificante, ele sempre receberia cada enaltecimento com um sorrisinho fofo que te fazia enchê-lo de beijos. ele agiria como se não fosse uma grande coisa, mas para ti, ele merecia todo o reconhecimento.

o que se tornava mais do que um incentivo para mingyu. ver seus olhinhos encantados quando ele aparecia com algum novo projeto finalizado, um novo prato que aprendeu, fotos tiradas no caminho para casa. ele queria te mostrar e contar cada acontecimento, pois você transformava todas as pequenas coisas em algo importante, fazendo-o se sentir não no topo do mundo, mas como se ele fosse o único nele. da mesma forma que você sempre seria para ele.

portanto, o homem levou como seu dever oficial fazer aquela alergia ir embora o mais rápido possível. mingyu até tentou evitar que chegasse a isso, tendo coberto você com algo mais quente durante a madrugada, quando o próprio acordou com frio devido à queda brusca na temperatura. mesmo com seus cuidados, isso acabou te afetando. porém nada que mais cuidados de kim mingyu — e talvez um pouco de persuasão para te levar à uma consulta quando se sentisse mais disposta — não pudessem resolver.

depois que ele garantiu que você não estava se sentindo fraca nem tão dolorida, mingyu te acompanhou num banho quente. no seu antigo apartamento, era uma missão impossível dividir o box com ele e todo o seu tamanho. você jamais falaria em voz alta, embora tenha certeza que ele saiba, porém o box mais amplo te fez gostar muito mais da moradia atual. vocês tinham espaço o bastante para que pudessem esfregar um ao outro sem baterem na porta ou na parede — nem mesmo a cabeça de mingyu batia na ducha.

no entanto, mesmo com todo espaço, você acabaria agarrada à mingyu em algum momento. talvez ele mesmo tenha te puxado pra perto, quem sabe. era necessária muita consciência sobre o consumo de água para que seus banhos não se estendessem demais. contudo, mingyu alegou que "o vapor do banho ajuda na sinusite" como justificativa para uns minutinhos a mais.

depois de estar muito bem seca — seu quase enfermeiro também garantiu que esse processo fosse bem executado porque "o vento gelado pode te fazer piorar" — e quente, seu noivo continuou seus zelos com você.

— você não precisa ajudar nisso, amor. é fácil — você tentou convencê-lo, mostrando que podia sim fazer uma massagem facial em si mesma.

— foi minha ideia, e eu quero fazer — mingyu insistiu naquele tom dengoso.

— eu sei, e foi uma ótima ideia. mas pode ser meio nojento, sabe?

dessa vez, ele pareceu ter levado isso como uma ofensa. você mal teve chances quando ele afastou suas mãos do rosto, usando agora os próprios dedos cheios do creme que você aplicou antes, para tomar seu lugar e massagear toda a região indicada pelo tutorial do especialista que assistiram minutos atrás.

você teve que admitir que mingyu fez aquilo muito melhor do que você, o equilíbrio perfeito entre movimentos delicados e pressão ideal. e acabou não sendo tão nojento quanto o esperado. no mais, aliviou a sensação incômoda de antes. devendo um pedido de desculpas, você encheu o bico ainda consternado de mingyu com selinhos, transformando-o rapidamente num sorriso

— te amo e obrigada, você fez isso muito bem.

— sou ótimo com tudo que é manual — você fingiu não notar o leve tom insinuativo, se virando de costas para voltar pra cama.

pouco adiantou, pois depois de meio passo você foi puxada para trás e atacada com selares e mordidinhas no pescoço

— mingoo... — hmm — ele murmurou, sem tirar a boca de perto de você. — deita comigo? — não, senhorita. vou pegar uma infusão pra você, você vai gostar muito dessa.

então ele te deixou ali, sumindo de sua vista. quando você o seguiu, realmente o encontrou concentradíssimo fazendo exatamente o que disse.

— kim mingyu. — oi, bebê — aquele timbre manso, olhos brilhantes e a boca mal contendo o sorriso. o combo de kim mingyu bancando o sonso. — você me paga, viu. — eu só lembrei do chá, amor. — besta.

notando que, como de costume, você não estava realmente chateada, mingyu riu.

— eu te pago depois, não se preocupa. isso, é claro, depois que você estiver se sentindo melhor — então, como se nada tivesse acontecido, seu noivo voltou a prestar atenção no cuidadoso processo de infusão.

foi um tanto fofo vê-lo dar toques minuciosos para que não somente as ervas te ajudassem, como para que o sabor estivesse do jeito que te agradava. e, como sempre, mingyu acertou perfeitamente.

ele não tirou os olhos de você enquanto bebia o líquido quente, nem depois disso, quando você insistiu em adiantar pelo menos parte do que podia do trabalho. mingyu lutou para te convencer, porém conseguiu te tirar da frente do notebook, com a promessa de que te daria toda a atenção, carinho e o que mais você quisesse — ele já tinha te convencido, mas não fazia mal algum querer um pouco mais de mingyu para si.

ao final do dia, você teria dado ao mingyu, se pudesse, um diploma com honrarias pelas habilidades. ainda havia um incômodo aqui ou ali, afinal o clima ainda estava daquela maneira que castigava seu sistema imunológico, contudo tê-lo cuidando de ti tornou tudo muito mais suportável. pois, além de te confortar como ninguém, cada conhecimento — antigo ou recém adquirido durante aquele dia — pôde afastar algum dos sintomas que mais te perturbavam.

— obrigada por cuidar muito bem de mim, dr. mingoo — ele riu, te trazendo mais uma vez para deitar sobre ele, depois de te fazer tomar mais uma dose de medicamentos.

— você foi uma paciente muito fofa. meio carente, mas adorável demais pra eu negar qualquer coisa.

— mas você já negou coisas pra mim hoje — levou alguns segundos para mingyu compreender, rindo quando se lembrou.

— eu disse que você tinha que estar se sentindo melhor.

— mas eu to — você choramingou.

então mingyu cedeu, incapaz de dizer não pra você o olhando assim.

— tudo bem, mas você tem que continuar quietinha me deixando cuidar de tudo, pode ser?

você perdeu um pouco da capacidade de raciocínio para elaborar uma resposta quando os beijos dele trilharam do seu rosto até seu colo, passando por aquele lugarzinho específico no seu pescoço que te deixava com as pernas fracas.

as mãos dele sob sua roupa deixaram um rastro de arrepios, mesmo sem encostarem nos locais que você mais queria.

embora tenha demorado para que você entendesse que ele realmente queria ouvir uma resposta de você, bastou que mingyu parasse de descer suas mãos e beijos pelo seu corpo para obter a confirmação verbal de ti. não foi nada além de um "sim, continua, por favor", antes que mingyu voltasse a tocar cada pedacinho em você — com um sorrisinho convencido nos lábios, pois ele sabia exatamente quais te faziam suspirar e se contorcer em êxtase.

antes, durante e depois, mingyu foi absolutamente gentil e suave, colocando seu conforto e prazer acima do dele, assegurando que cada parte de você recebesse a devida atenção e carinho.

da mesma maneira que te limpou e vestiu — apesar de você insistir, mais uma vez naquele dia, que eram umas das coisas que poderia fazer sozinha —, ele te acolheu em seu abraço, desta vez tendo total certeza de que nenhuma brisa fria iria alcançar você.

#g's ramblings 𓆩♡𓆪 #svt #mingyu x reader #svt mingyu #svt x reader #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu suggestive #kim mingyu x reader #kmg fluff #svt kim mingyu #svt fluff #kim mingyu fanfic #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #svt pt br #seventeen pt br

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hoshingi · 3 months ago

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MINGYU ✯ 240724 Sticky - Kiss of Life

#svtedit #kim mingyu #mingyu #svtsource #svtcreations #seventeen #*#*gifs #*kmg #*svt #caratland 2024 d2

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hanniedream · 2 years ago

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don't you just love it when...

#hoshi #ksy #mingyu #kmg #seventeen #svt

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namchyoon · 1 year ago

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jungkook 'seven' challenge with mingyu - bloopers / bonus cut 🤍

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jwirecs · 2 years ago

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Hey can you recommend some SVT OT13 x reader fics?? 🥺

helloo!

i havent read a lot of ot13 x reader fics specifically. like are you looking for a ot13!poly au or like fics that involves ot13 but isnt a poly au but like everyone is involved?

if its like the latter then i have a few recs (i will but them down below), but if its the first option then unfortunately i have lucked out.

if anyone has any ot13 x reader fics that you would like to recommend, please do let us know!

ot13 x reader fics that involves every member (non-poly)

⇒ The Xperiments by @gamerwoo

⇒ Network Love by @cherrycheolliesc (sequel: Without You)

⇒ Horanghae by @horanghaejamjam

ot13 x reader fics that involve every member but separate stories in the same timeline

⇒ Tales From The Pack by @gamerwoo

⇒ Imprinted by @gamerwoo

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comecomeintomy-world · 5 months ago

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mingyu rec masterlist ★

𓍯 fluff

tbc

𓍯 smut

❀ kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity by @shuaflix ୨୧ best friends to lovers ⌇ friends with benefits ⌇ humor ⌇ fluff ⌇ smut 𖦹 after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn't), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).

𓍯 sns au

❀ Oh Baby, You by @thepixelelf ୨୧ romance ⌇ drama ⌇ comedy ⌇ angst ⌇ single parent au 𖦹 The birth of your son three years ago was what caused your breakup with Wonwoo, your longtime (and at that point, long distance) partner. Now, you're getting concerned that Orion is starting to look a lot like his dad, but that's not your only problem. Wonwoo is back… and he's living across the hall.

𓍯 angst

tbc

masterlist

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bitterie-sweetie · 2 years ago

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Set it up

Pairing: Seokmin (DK) x reader Genre: fluff WC: 6.2k A/N: happy bday and seokmin day nat @syuperseventeen !! this is the fic that i've been writing in our dms foreverrr and now it's finally here (*´∇｀*)

You have absolutely no idea how to get closer to your crush, but perhaps asking his best friend for some advice is the way to go.

The whole point was to get close to Mingyu. That’s really all you wanted.

You don’t remember when you first met him, exactly. For the longest time, he’s just been someone who’s there—the tall one at the center of the group, the one cheering for you when you finally scored a strike during bowling night, the one waiting for you by the bathrooms when the rest of your friends have already headed out the door. He would smile at you and ask how you were doing, but otherwise, the two of you have never really talked. Truthfully, you’re not sure he even knows your name.

But despite that, you do end up learning a lot about him at all these events your friends drag you to. You know he's a lefty, and that he's good at bowling and just about any sport under the sun. You know he's an amazing cook, or so everyone says, and on top of that he also likes to clean. Though what really sealed the deal might have to be the time he let you walk on the inside of the sidewalk, as if he were a character straight out of a drama.

Now, months later, you’ve finally acknowledged these budding feelings for Kim Mingyu. But while acknowledging is one thing, the problem that remains is how do you get closer to him? You’ve tried to strike up a conversation many times already but what is there to talk about? At the pizza place a couple of weeks ago, you nearly mentioned the Marvel movie you saw the previous weekend only to stop yourself—what if he’s also a fan and you accidentally spoiled the entire thing? Or maybe he's not a movie person at all and would just smile awkwardly and pretend he didn’t hear you. Is he a book person then? He might be. But you also couldn’t ask about that when you haven't read a single book since high school, and there's no way you'd be able to keep up with the conversation if that's what gets him talking.

So here you are, finally turning to his best friend, Seokmin, for advice. Saturday morning has you out at a cafe instead of getting your eight hours, but such sacrifices are necessary for the sake of love.

Seokmin comes back from the counter, carrying both of your drinks and setting them down on the table in front of you. He’s wearing his usual bright smile that you’ve seen a few times before, and it calms your rapid heart a little. You try to smile back at him.

Out of the people you know to be Mingyu’s friends, Seokmin seemed the most approachable. He’s friendly and outgoing, loves to laugh, and during your group outing at the arcade, the two of you even played a few games together. Besides, you definitely weren’t going to ask the one with the glasses when he hardly spoke and never looked your way once, and the one that dances—Minghao, according to Soonyoung—might just laugh at your request more than he’d help. Thus, Seokmin was the obvious choice. You thought that if anyone could help you out, surely it’d be him.

“So?” He looks at you, unblinking. “What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

You open your mouth, and then close it again when the words feel like they’re sticking to your throat. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this. Is it too late to turn back? But you remind yourself that it’d be a waste to have come all this way just to not go through with it. “Um, you know your friend Mingyu?”

“No, who’s that?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you how I could get closer to him. Like, maybe you can tell me what his ideal type is? What are his interests? Does he have siblings and is he close to his family? Do you think you could maybe put in a good word for me the next time you talk to him? Maybe even… set us up on a date or something?”

Seokmin simply stares at you for a while and then blinks. Silence lingers in the air and each second that passes only makes your cheeks heat up more and more. Great, you said way too much. What kind of person bombards their crush’s friend with a random session of rapid-fire questions anyway?

And then, just as you imagined in your worst-case scenarios, he laughs. "Oh? You want me to be your wingman or something?" He manages to squeeze out.

Oh.

You don't laugh with him.

He stops laughing. "You can't be serious?"

"Well, not exactly a wingman but you're Mingyu's friend. Maybe you could give me some advice? Help me out a bit?"

“Hmm,” Seokmin considers for a moment. "Yeah, I've known Mingyu for a long time..." He raises a brow, and the corner of his lip lifts a little. "He's a tough person to get to know; usually he’s so friendly with everyone that you'd never know what he actually likes.”

“Right, that’s exactly why I need your help.”

“Are you sure about this? Because you're going to need some intensive training."

You don't know what he means by that. Is he saying you’re unworthy? That you’ve got no game? That—well, actually, he’s probably right. You’re here begging for his help after all. But despite this being a slight bruise to your ego, you’re sure whatever advice he can give must be better than the things Soonyoung has been telling you to do.

“Yeah,” you give a firm nod, “I’m sure. Let’s do it.”

“Okay!” Seokmin lifts his cup, holding it out for you to bump yours against, and then the deal is sealed.

And so, the plan begins.

After the initial meeting at the cafe, you meet him every few days when the two of you have time. Tuesday afternoon at the library is when Seokmin tells you where Mingyu usually hangs out—at the lounge in the finance building—and then Wednesday is when you swing by and entirely miss him. You get dinner with Seokmin on Thursday, just in time for your next opportunity, which presents itself as another group outing. This time at a board game cafe.

“I’ll create an opportunity so that you can sit beside him,” he says nonchalantly like it’s the easiest thing in the world, then proceeds to shove nearly the entire sandwich in his mouth.

“Right… but then what? What do I do after that?”

He looks at you mid-chew. You wait. Ten minutes go by. “The rest is in the hands of the OTP gods, Y/N.”

You do end up sitting next to Mingyu, with Seokmin on Mingyu’s other side, but that turns out to be the least of your worries. Sitting there has you picking up a stack of twelve cards during a game of Uno, when the two best friends stack their plus four cards to pass the punishment along to you. So much for sitting beside Mingyu. At least it gets him to laugh, though it’s Seokmin who’s having a good time at your expense, eyes sparkling and lip curling automatically when he meets your gaze.

Then the Saturday cafe session comes around again.

Seokmin sits down and crosses his arms, face unreadable. "Y/N, I barely pay attention to what’s going on around me and I still managed to see the way you tried to not-so-subtly get Mingyu's coffee order out of him yesterday. Please tell me it’s something you’ll never do again. You’re way too obvious. I am embarrassed for you."

Oh. So that’s what this is about.

"Okay, well," you frown at him, "if that was so bad then how would you do it then?"

"For starters, maybe don't mention it five times in a row while intentionally staring at him like you're waiting for an answer." He gives you a pointed look.

It was more like three times! Not five! "I wasn't staring," you mutter under your breath, though you know he's right. You're probably a lost cause at this rate and you still don't know what to do with the information that Kim Mingyu likes americanos.

As if he can sense your displeasure, Seokmin stops with the teasing after that. "Okay, first you just have to act natural. None of the googly eyes, the strange walks by his table when we're hanging out, and especially no interrogation questions."

“Uh huh.” You're skeptical. He’s making it sound way too easy. “And then what?”

“Then you talk to him like he’s just some guy.”

In the next moment, Seokmin puts on an impression of Mingyu so awful that it makes you entirely forget that you’d embarrassed yourself this time.

Soonyoung picks the arcade for the next week’s outing, and Seokmin tells you about all of the games that you could play with Mingyu. Shooting games, he says, are especially a good team bonding experience. Or you could battle it out on the DDR machines. But two rounds into the shooting game, Mingyu’s character is already dead, and while you manage to score a D on the DDR game, he ends up failing halfway through the song.

“So much for that plan,” you mutter, putting down the gun from the shooting game you’re about to quit. “Do you think I should’ve picked something easier?”

“Nah, that wouldn’t be fun.” Seokmin shakes his head and then takes out some tokens from his pocket. He puts them into the slot, then joins you by the spot where Mingyu left a moment ago. “We didn’t get to the end of the story last time, remember?”

You nod, feeling the grin creeping onto your face already. Seokmin is a good shot based on when you played this with him last time, and the two of you have perfect teamwork. “Let’s get it,” you say, high-fiving his outstretched hand. And before long, the night flies by and the two of you have used up all of your tokens.

Just like that, the two of you fall into a routine. Seokmin would give you a piece of advice, you’d attempt to use it the next time you see Mingyu, and then it’d fail. Then rinse and repeat.

It’s far from terrible, though. Seokmin might tease you a bit about your embarrassing moments and lack of progress, but you can’t be mad about it at all when spending time with him is ultimately a mood booster. He’s great at distracting you from not only your failure of a love life but from all of your school stresses as well, and more often than not, your hangouts tend to derail into something crazy and fun.

Sometimes you find yourself joining him in doing the awful impressions of your favourite Marvel characters, and other times you’re going to the convenience store to get late night snacks while having the world's largest debate over which kimbap flavour is the best. At some point you even dare each other to slurp the last of your bubble teas in the library as quietly as possible (spoiler alert: it doesn't go so well).

Even when it’s not so crazy, there’s never a dull moment with Seokmin. You get to learn a lot about him—after getting kicked out of the library, he shares his secret spot on campus with you and the two of you end up studying together there into the early hours of the morning. When you ask for a drink recommendation, he shares his extra customized Starbucks drink recipe. And when the sunrise slowly appears on the horizon and the two of you have given up on studying for the next midterm, he doesn’t shy away from telling you what he aspires to do after graduation, what he’s always dreamed of.

You end up falling asleep on his shoulder, and you think he’s going to make fun of you forever for it, but he simply smiles at you. An extra warm smile, washed by the golden rays of first light.

Then the two of you part ways and promise to meet each other again in a few days, although it never takes that long before he texts you a meme and you swing by his secret spot.

It does, however, make your friends notice your absence. Soonyoung corners you after your shared class one day to ask you where you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, and why he doesn’t seem to ever see you when you’re supposed to be best friends.

“Y/N, you’re not even going to study with us?” Soonyoung stands there, jaw dropping and mouth open in shock when you stand up to leave. Beside him, his girlfriend wears a milder version of the same expression. “Where are you going? We barely get to see you these days.”

“I have to go meet Seokmin now,” you say, picking up your bag. “I��ll see you guys next time, okay?”

He gives you a strange look. “Seokmin? Why are you meeting him? Did you guys become besties or something? Is that why you’ve been so MIA lately?”

“Yeah, kind of. Something like that.”

“Something like that,” Soonyoung repeats, unconvinced. “Are you guys dating?”

“What?” It’s your turn to give him a weird look. “No, Seokmin is just a friend. We’ve been hanging out and studying together, and he’s helping me with—”

Mingyu.

Kim Mingyu.

Even his name sounds unusual in your head, as if it’s a word you’ve repeated so many times that it has lost its meaning. But you know it’s the complete opposite of that: Mingyu’s name is unfamiliar to you because it hasn’t come up in a very long time.

“Y/N? You good?”

“Um, never mind. It’s a long story,” you quickly say, forcing a smile on your lips to hide the way your world has abruptly flipped upside down. “I’ll hang out with you guys next time, okay? I’ll even treat you to coffee.”

At the sound of that, Soonyoung’s frown turns into a grin but you barely have time to glance at it before you’re taking off.

The student center looks the same as it did last week and the week before that, and yet, it feels completely different this afternoon. You’re taken back to the first day you stepped in here to meet Seokmin, months ago, long before your memories of this place were filled with laughter and his funny impressions and all of the silly inside jokes you share.

Because how could you have forgotten the reason why you started all of this in the first place? How could Mingyu have slipped from your mind? You like him, for goodness’ sake! Perhaps you should be glad that Soonyoung’s questions served as a wakeup call and yanked you out of whatever reverie you were in, but now your stomach feels all queasy at just how far you’ve managed to stray from your original intentions.

“Hey,” Seokmin greets with his usual bright smile. He takes a seat across from you, and you can feel the corners of your lips instantly curving up. It really is that easy to forget, you think. One look at that smile and you’re in a bubble, with the outside world melting away. But you can’t forget any longer.

“Hi.”

He nearly does a double take. “Everything okay?”

“Um, yeah.” You need to figure out how to bring this up without making it weird, but at this point, it’s going to be weird either way. “I was just thinking about, um, well, we haven’t really gone out as a group for a while since everyone’s been busy and all. Maybe we can go after midterms.” You throw in a shrug to keep it nonchalant. “And maybe you can tell me if… Mingyu would be interested in that trendy restaurant we went to last month.”

You’re bringing that time up because it totally could’ve been a test run, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. That day, the rest of the group had cancelled on the original plans since some of them were busy, and so you and Seokmin spent the night looking for something fun to do followed by some good food. But maybe it’d be a good date spot with Mingyu; it was a great place after all. Maybe you wouldn’t feel like throwing up if you keep telling yourself that all of these activities you did, all the time that you invested over the past few months were for Mingyu.

You can see the moment Seokmin realizes it. The light that’s ever present in his eyes slowly fades until it completely disappears, and for the first time ever, his smile is gone. It makes one thing clear—you weren’t the only one who’d forgotten about Mingyu. Seokmin had forgotten about him too.

“Right,” he nods slowly, “I can ask him about that.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you, but not in the way it’d felt before. This time it’s dense, suffocating, foreboding, although you can’t exactly tell why you feel it and what it’s leading to. What’s the big deal about having gotten off track anyway? You can just correct your route and continue.

“Seokmin? And Y/N? Wow, I haven’t seen you guys in so long,” a voice comes floating over.

And when you look up, it’s Mingyu. Right in the flesh.

You can tell that his hair has grown out a bit and he’s dressed far more casually than you’ve ever seen him, but he still looks as good as always.

The two of you mutter your hellos but when no one seems to pick up the conversation, Mingyu ends up looking between you and Seokmin in a way that might lead to the same kind of misinterpretation that Soonyoung experienced.

No, you can’t risk having him get the wrong idea. “Mingyu,” you impulsively say, “do you want to go out for dinner with me this weekend?” There’s a slight emphasis on the me, so he doesn’t think it’s an us question.

A questioning look briefly flashes across his face, but to your surprise, Mingyu ends up nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

If it were the you from last term, there’d be no way such a bold question would ever come out of your mouth. But now, things are different. Now you can rashly throw out such propositions all for the sake of correcting yourself and getting back on track before more people get the wrong idea.

After chatting for a while, Mingyu leaves the two of you and says he'll talk to you soon. Oddly enough though, you barely feel any satisfaction afterwards—you're not jumping for joy or squealing in excitement like you once thought you’d be when in this situation. But isn’t this what you wanted?

Well, it’s no big deal. You tell yourself it’s because you’re still dumbfounded over his answer, especially when the two of you haven’t connected recently. Yes, that must be it. That must be why he slipped your mind in the first place; it’s not that your feelings for him faded, but just that you’ve been too busy.

You pack away the other thoughts into a box and seal it tightly. What would you do with the fact that you asked Mingyu the question thinking he’d turn you down, and weren’t upset at the thought of being rejected?

Across from you, Seokmin also appears to be taken aback by this whole encounter. He's quiet for once, almost as if he doesn't know how to react, and there’s a neutral expression on his face that you’ve never seen before. When you meet his eyes, they’re missing their usual warmth.

“Congrats, Y/N. You won’t be needing my help anymore.” Then he looks down to check the time on his phone. “Ah, I have to go for my tutorial session now,” he mutters, standing up and then slinging his bag on his shoulder without giving you another glance. “Have fun on the date.”

“Yeah—” you start to say, but he’s already out of earshot.

It’s only after you get back to your dorm that you realize: Seokmin doesn’t have a tutorial session today at all.

The rest of the week passes by quickly. You don't get a chance to see Seokmin when you're wrapped up in assignments and latched onto by Soonyoung, who insists on dragging you from store to store to pick an outfit for your date. And while you’re looking forward to the date and you’re content that everything is back on track, for some reason the stone in your chest doesn’t disappear. You feel it pressing down on you every time your eyes drift to your phone and see the lack of notifications.

Soon enough, the weekend approaches and it’s time for your date with Mingyu. You end up reluctantly wearing what Soonyoung picked out, figuring it can’t be any worse than what you have in your closet, and then head out to meet Mingyu at the restaurant you agreed on.

The night starts off just a little awkward—he speaks so quickly that you only end up catching half of each sentence, and the noise in the restaurant definitely doesn't help your case. Is it too much to hope he doesn't ask any questions and that your half-laugh is enough to cover yourself? Oh and you end up dropping a fork. Unintentionally. But it turns out to be the best thing to happen, for when you meet Mingyu's eyes after bending to pick it up, the two of you burst into laughter and it's like all the ice between you melts away.

After that point, it's pretty much what you expected: the food is good, the vibes are nice, and it's everything you could've hoped for. Mingyu is really nice and talking to him reminds you of what caught your eye in the first place, and the night seems to quickly fly by.

But if you expect your heart to flutter at every smile Mingyu shoots your way, and for your cheeks to heat up when you accidentally bump your knees against his, then you’re left hanging. This feeling is like the same, strange emptiness you felt the day he agreed to go on the date with you.

Perhaps it could very well be due to how distracted you are, though. Every embarrassing moment, every funny joke—they all turn into stories that you save in your mind to tell Seokmin the next time you see him. It’s all too easy to picture him gawking at some and then laughing until he’s crying at others, and it’d be a fun time. Plus you’re acting natural just like you practiced, and when you tell Seokmin, he’d be so proud of how far you’ve come.

At the end of the night, Mingyu walks you to your dorm and even gives you his jacket to wear when the wind becomes colder than you anticipated. You thank him for a good time, and then you say your goodbyes and that’s that.

Afterwards, life goes back to a time before you ever knew Mingyu or Seokmin.

You find yourself studying in the library with Soonyoung instead of going to any secret spot on campus, and when he asks for all the details about your date, you have nothing to say.

There’s only one person you want to talk to about it, and he’s nowhere to be seen. He doesn't answer your texts, leaves them unopened, and stops posting on social media entirely. You can't even tell if he's purposely avoiding you or if he's just caught up with school work or other things going on in his life.

“You know what’s funny?” Soonyoung abruptly sets down his pencil, the noise of it making you flinch. He’s probably had enough of your endless sighing all throughout the hour that you’ve been at the library.

“No.”

“I haven’t seen you this miserable before,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “And that includes the time you didn’t get into your exchange program and when you failed the midterm in first year.”

“Are you done yet or—”

“That also includes all the times you got ignored and rejected by Mingyu.”

You stop typing. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Y/N, you went on a perfectly good date with him and you’re about to go on a second date, yet you’re here, more miserable than before when he used to barely look at you.”

Yes, you’re willing to admit that you’re miserable. But Soonyoung likes to talk around the point a lot instead of directly addressing it, and you’re tired of trying to figure out just why you feel this way when everything should be perfect by now.

“So?” You heave a sigh. “Soonyoung, what are you trying to say?”

“Y/N.” He turns so that he’s facing you, rolling his chair forward so that he can put his hands on your shoulders like he’s giving you a pep talk. “You’re miserable because you think you’re supposed to like Mingyu, but really, you’ve completely fallen for Seokmin instead. And now you have no idea what to do about it, hence your state of denial.”

You’ve completely fallen for… what? You study Soonyoung’s face, trying to tell if he’s cracking another one of his jokes, but nothing indicates that he is. He’s completely serious which makes it all the stranger why he’s saying you’ve fallen for Seokmin. Because how can it be true? Seokmin is a great friend and you’re really missing him since he’s been avoiding you and all, but having feelings for him? Is that possible?

“Wait, are you for real? You actually didn’t know until I told you just now?”

“Um…” You don’t know what to say to that.

Soonyoung looks at you for a moment longer before smiling and patting your arm. “It’s okay to not know. Take some time to think about it—what is it that you really want? Who do you think of when something good happens to you and you want to share it with someone? And don’t lie; I know it’s not me.”

You give him a weak smile, unable to deny the last bit, and then the two of you part ways to head to your respective classes.

Over the course of the week, you do give it some thought. You slowly go through all of your past interactions with Seokmin, examining them from different angles to try to pinpoint whether you might’ve actually developed feelings for him. And when that doesn’t give you enough information, you take a closer look at the moment Soonyoung inadvertently reminded you that Mingyu was the start of all of this.

Why did you feel so disappointed at the time? Was it really because your brilliant plan had been derailed, which meant no progress with your crush, or was it because Mingyu was simply the excuse to keep meeting up with—

A loud ring cuts through the silence of the room, pulling you out of your thoughts. It’s your alarm. Great, if you don’t head out right now, you’d be late for your date with Mingyu, so you quickly grab your things and leave the house.

This second date has your stomach in knots. You don't know why you agreed to it, but at the same time, you didn’t exactly have a reason not to. Truthfully, you never expected him to ask for a second date, and you didn't expect to see him again. And it’s not that the first date went badly at all; no, it was fun and enjoyable and just an overall good date. But that’s all it was. You could probably be having an even better time with Seokmin—

Seokmin.

Already, Soonyoung’s words are echoing in your mind again. Okay, maybe he really was onto something.

This time your date with Mingyu is at a new cafe a block away from campus. By the time you get there, he's seated at a table and looking as handsome as always with two drinks in front of him.

“Hey,” you greet, sliding into the seat across from him.

“Hey, Y/N.”

It’s far more awkward than the first time. The two of you exchange small talk and you ask about how school is going, what he’s been up to lately, and he tells you he started that show you recommended. You tell him you tried his favourite food stall. Then the conversation dwindles, and you can’t help but feel held back by the thoughts swarming your head. Should you talk about what’s really on your mind? Should you, Y/N, ask him, Kim Mingyu, about his best friend, Lee Seokmin? When you’re supposedly on a date? Should you—

"So... you and Seokmin, huh?” Mingyu says slowly.

Oh.

You can't believe what you're hearing.

“W-what?”

He lets out a sigh, a wistful smile appearing. "Yeah, I know all about it. The two of you weren't exactly subtle."

"What do you mean?"

"The way you were talking about Seokmin that night when we had dinner, and when I saw the two of you in the student center that day. It's pretty obvious that the two of you have a connection."

You open your mouth to deny it, but you can't.

You can't, because it's true. There's no doubt that this is why you've gone through the five stages of grief or whatever just because Seokmin hasn't texted you back in weeks. This is why the first date with Mingyu seemed underwhelming, and why you feel slightly reluctant to even be sitting here with him now. Beyond the initial favour you'd asked of Seokmin, none of this was ever about Mingyu. It has always been about Seokmin.

Soonyoung was right, and it seems like everyone around you could see it perfectly clearly. And now, it all makes perfect sense.

You swallow nervously. “Um, yeah. I guess you could say that.”

“Look, Y/N, I’ll be straightforward and tell you that’s why I asked you to come here today. We had a great time the other night—don’t get me wrong—but I think we both know that’s not where your heart lies.”

You nod, and it’s like the weight in your chest lessens just enough that you can breathe again. That had been part of your worries—how were you supposed to tell him that you’re no longer interested in him? That maybe you never really were in the first place because you’ve fallen for his friend? The last thing you wanted to do was to mess things up between friends, so hearing Mingyu say that this date isn’t a date at all is truly the light at the end of your tunnel.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you specifically, but he hasn’t been himself lately, and I get the feeling that it has to do with… us.” He grimaces. “I talked to him, but I think this is something you should clarify.”

“Trust me, I’ve been trying. He’s been avoiding me though; he won’t reply to my texts and I can’t seem to find him on campus anywhere.”

Mingyu stares at you for a moment and you can’t tell at all what he’s thinking. “Tonight at seven. Meet him at your usual spot.”

“What?”

“He’ll be there.” He nods firmly, and then stands up. “Go for it, Y/N.”

“I’ll be there. Thanks for letting me know.” You stand up as well, picking up your unfinished drink. “Oh and—Mingyu?”

“Hmm?”

“If you knew that there was something going on between me and Seokmin, why did you agree to the dinner that day in the first place?”

Mingyu hesitates for just a moment as if the question takes him off guard, but then a smile starts to appear. “I thought you wanted to talk to me about him.”

“Ah. Right.” You give him a quick smile, wave, and then leave the cafe.

You’re never asking a crush’s best friend for advice ever again.

You practically count down the hours, staring at the clock on your phone every few minutes.

There’s still no word from Seokmin himself, and your heart pounds like crazy over the fact that you’d have to blindly trust Mingyu and believe that he’ll show up. What should you even expect from this meeting? How could you possibly prepare for it, having no idea what Mingyu has told him?

And what’s more than that is the other thought that pops into your head: what if he doesn’t feel the same way? Sure, everyone may have implied there was something going on between the two of you, but what if his avoidance was because he thought you used him? That the two of you were becoming friends—nothing more—and that you tossed him away the moment Mingyu looked at you? What if all of this is yet another misunderstanding?

Well, you figure it doesn’t matter anyway. You’ll go in there and tell him the truth regardless of whether you get rejected or whether he never wants to see you again.

So you get to the student center and then climb the stairs two at a time, unsure of whether you want to get there faster or slower. Because this time, there’s truly nothing to hide behind. This time when you see him, you’re no longer using Mingyu’s name as your shield or excuse, nor is Seokmin your crush’s best friend.

When you step into the room, you immediately see him curled up on the couch. It’s just as Mingyu said—Seokmin doesn’t look like himself. The usual brightness is missing from his face, seemingly replaced by the dark circles under his eyes, and the smile that he attempts when he sees you is just an attempt.

You gently take a seat at the opposite end of the couch. There was some sort of speech you practiced on your walk here, but after seeing him, everything leaves your mind at once.

“Hey,” you start. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Seokmin nods. “Yeah, um. It’s—sorry. I have no excuse for avoiding you. Just needed some space and some time to think.”

“Yeah, of course.” Then silence. “Seokmin—”

“Um, I—”

You stop. “You can go first.”

He hesitates, but ultimately continues. "I'm assuming your date with Mingyu went well? That things are going well between the two of you?" He doesn't wait for a response and simply nods to himself. "That's good. The two of you are good for each other."

"What?" You're almost worried for him because what exactly did Mingyu tell him? Nothing, judging by the sounds of it, or it’s that Seokmin has decided not to believe any of it. "What are you saying?"

He turns to you. "I know you were trying to get Mingyu to fall for you, but I think it worked on me too."

Oh.

Suddenly, it's like his confession makes everything click. You aren’t the only one who thought it was way too easy to forget Mingyu's name over the course of your hangouts, or to not have him cross your mind entirely until you were reminded. And you’re not the only one who was disappointed when his name was brought up again, or who wasn’t excited about your date with him.

Originally, you might've wanted to get advice from Mingyu's best friend and then developed feelings for said best friend along the way, but now you know that said best friend has also fallen for you.

“Too?” You shake your head. "No, it didn’t work on Mingyu. It never did; he only went on the date because he knew I—” you pause to take a deep breath, “he knew I liked you. He thought I asked him out because I wanted to talk to him about you.”

Still, Seokmin doesn’t say anything.

“But I'm not here to talk about Mingyu. Our hangouts might've started because of him, but we've spent more time forgetting about him than talking about him. And I think I must've spent more time talking about you than about myself during my date with him."

“Why would you do that? What do you mean…” he trails off and then meets your eyes, and you can see the moment it clicks for him. The light in his eyes—it seems to come back gradually like a candle flickering back to life or colour restoring in a monochrome landscape. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yeah, Seokmin. I don’t know when it started to happen, but the whole asking you for advice thing turned into an excuse to see you. I didn’t know it at the time when I asked Mingyu out and just—I freaked out and messed things up.” Your pulse is racing at this point, and it’s hard to swallow but you have to push on and ask one last thing. “So maybe… you can give me some advice on how to win your heart instead?”

“You already have, Y/N,” he says softly, and the warm smile that you missed so much is now back and glowing more than ever.

Then a moment later, as per typical Seokmin behaviour, he bursts into laughter. He laughs like he's finding the whole situation absurd—which it is—and soon, you join in too. You laugh at how Mingyu is the one who unknowingly brought the two of you together, how asking Seokmin for a mere favour has bloomed into an unlikely friendship.

And now, maybe into something more.

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