Tumgik
#mingyu x you angst
nnight-dances · 9 months
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FADE INTO YOU ˚₊☆ ‧₊˚
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[a sequel to REPETITION / RARE LOVE]
Mingyu, your best friend turned lover, is possibly the best thing that's happened to you. But as you juggle a rigorous summer internship and pressure from home, you start to spiral. Overworked and isolated, you're spiraling and the cherry on top: you overhear Mingyu say some things that have you convinced he's tired of you. Fighting takes on a different meaning now that you aren't just a couple of besties and heartache is possibly inevitable.
PAIRING: kim mingyu x fem!reader
GENRE: angst, fluff, some suggestive content toward the end
TROPES: unhealthy working habits, miscommunication or rather lack of communication, mean mother, hurt/comfort question mark, you're on your period as well as sick at one point, arguing and conflict :/
WORD COUNT: 6.5k approximately
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"So, how's it going with Mingyu?" 
"It is…" you trail off as you poke at the discarded pizza crust on your plate, "...going well."
Yunjin's smile retracts at your hesitant pause. "What's wrong?"
"I never said anything was wrong. On the contrary, if you were listening to what I just said–"
"That pause was at least three seconds long. Three seconds, Y/N! That's the first sign!"
You frown, "The first sign of what?"
"A fight. You're fighting with Mingyu, aren't you?"
"I mean, fighting is what we do. Most of our relationship is based on the other's ability to be a witty bastard." You scoff uneasily. "I think we'd be in trouble if we weren't fighting." 
"You and I both know that's not what I meant," Yunjin sighs at your antics. "I'm talking about a real fight."
"...No. We're fine, Yunjin, you're worrying over nothing."
Though she drops the topic thereafter, you can tell by the way she bids you goodbye, leaving with a sneaky "make up with Mingyu before it's too late!!!" that she's not convinced. On the ride back home, you stare at your phone as you go over the conversation again and again. Biting your lip, you wonder why Yunjin had been inclined to think that you were fighting with Mingyu in the first place, anyway.
The thought, though not unsurprising, was a little out of place in your head. 
Truth be told, all isn't well with you.
You'd been having a couple of rough weeks and it had a lot to do with the fact that you'd chosen to not go back home for the summer, choosing to stay in your college town to pursue an internship there instead. While the internship itself was overwhelming at times, at the end of the day, you felt more fulfilled than ever. However, the consequences of you not visiting your family had you rubbing your temples more often than not every time you fielded a call from one of your parents. 
And though you'd told them that the only reason you weren't back home was your internship, there was more to it than that. For one, as much you missed basking in the attention of your parents and showering your sweet dog with love, you also were actively avoiding the suffocation of home: the prying questions about your future career, the insanely invasive relatives who would no doubt leave snide remarks in their wake, and of course, everyone's reactions to your best friend to lovers arc with Kim Mingyu. 
You'd been renting a place with Mingyu over these few months because he, too, had decided to stay back to take a summer class and study in advance for some difficult courses next semester. Most days, it was everything you'd wanted: waking up to a warm bed and the sound of Mingyu snoring into your neck, slow breakfasts cooked mostly by Mingyu while you clung to his waist, and long days at the desk in front of your computer. Well, the last part wasn't ideal but every time your supervisor assigned you a new, more advanced task, you couldn't help but feel proud of yourself. 
However, some days weren't as dreamy as you'd hoped they would be. To begin with, the past week had you waking up with heavy eyelids, perhaps something to do with the late nights you'd been pulling to finish your work, and an empty bed. Mingyu's class had started meeting earlier thanks to the heat in the afternoons, which meant you were left to fend for yourself during breakfast. Head heavy, you'd drag yourself to eat some sloppy cereal and get to work: somewhat manageable of a day. 
But today as you're swirling through your bowl of muesli to pick out some raisins, your phone buzzes on the table. If the sudden sound doesn't startle you, the name on the screen definitely has your heart beating a little bit faster: it's your mother. You're already dreading the conversation. 
"Hello?" 
"Did you just wake up?" comes your mother's voice, her tone already hostile. Great. 
"Um, yeah, I woke up like half an hour ago. Why?"
"...Nothing. It's just I thought you were really busy with classes."
"Mom, I've told you it's not class, it's an internship. Two very different things." You inhale deeply to calm yourself. When she asks you if you've eaten, you tell her you're currently having some muesli. Ignoring the scoff that she lets out, you ask her about her day, a question that she gives her usual vague answer to. You try to engage with her rationally, intent on getting some cordial connection with her.
But honestly, it's no use, your mother's set on picking you apart today and so she does, especially when you let it slide that Mingyu's at class. 
"In class? Already? Y/N, you should learn a thing or two from him. Just because you're dating him doesn't mean you can slack off like this, okay? I don't want to see you become lazy over some man. I don't care how rich–"
You cut her off, afraid of what you might have to hear if you didn't. "Mom. I can't believe you're making this a competition! I'm not making an enemy out of my boyfriend because you want me to."
Your stomach lurches at how high-pitched your voice sounds to your own ears, vision blurring somewhere along the way. "Fine. If you're gonna scream at me every time I call you, I might as well stop." 
"Mom–" She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you staring at the fading screen with her contact photo on it. It was a picture of the two of you, with you grinning as she leaned in to peck your cheek. It was maybe one of your favorite photos, especially when you came to associate it with phone calls with your mother, something that used to be a comfort amidst the chaos of your life. Now, you weren't so sure as you rested your forehead against the wooden table, eyes swimming with unshed tears. You blink them away, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat, because despite everything, you didn't have the time to cry over this. 
So slowly, you pick yourself, wiping at your cheeks. You move on in your day, washing your dishes as well as Mingyu's from earlier this morning. You shower, and pat your face with skincare, find a shirt that doesn't remind you of home, and take a seat at your workstation in the living room. Headphones on your ears, the reminder of your fight with your mother slowly fades away as you begin working. 
Despite everything, you found yourself thinking later that afternoon as you refilled your water bottle, you were so grateful for Mingyu and the stability that he brought you, whether it be as a friend or as a roommate. It was with this reliance on him that you pushed yourself through the day. So when he came back from class, more sullen than usual, you find yourself instantly unsettled.
"Gyu?" you call out, removing your headphones when the jingling of keys catches your attention. The big guy stoops in the hallway, removing his shoes and outerwear before stepping in. He makes eye contact and the soft smile he shoots you, you can tell, is forced. You're standing up, "Hey, you're late today. Everything okay?"
"Not at all. Prof kept us back late to throw extra credit stuff at us. It's ridiculous but I needed it, so I stayed back." You nod in understanding as you walk to him in the kitchen, watching as he washes his hand and pours himself cold water. "It was worst though, babe, I kept falling asleep."
You match the pout on his lips when he finally meets you at the kitchen counter, hands finding your waist as you press yourself into him. "Hmm, sorry to hear that, Gyu. Did you not sleep much last night?"
"No, it's real weird. I kept waking up in the middle of the night. And every position I slept in was so uncomfortable. Plus, I kept thinking I was gonna wake you up on accident."
"Ha, and since when have you cared about my sleep?" you chuckle into his chest, "Just wake me up next time and we can have hot cocoa or something."
Mingyu hums in appreciation around you, "I'll make you regret that offer tonight."
You hit him when you separate, eyes trailing back to your workspace and Mingyu catches on as his hands tighten around ever so slightly. Eyes desperate, he asks, "You wanna watch a movie tonight? I can order some fried chicken." 
You light up momentarily and then are instantly reminded of the deadline that awaits you in a few days. Mingyu notices you stiffen a little and you sigh. "I have that stupid report due on Friday, Gyu," you whine.
"Can't you take a break for a while? You've been working so hard lately." Mingyu brushes your hair back, his thumb rubbing at your jaw gently. "You deserve some time off." When you seem to remain in your rumination period, Mingyu presses a peck on your lips. "Please?"
You groan as you playfully push him away, "God, I hate it when you're physically affectionate as a way to entice me into doing things with you."
"So movie night's on?"
"...Are you ordering the chicken or should I?"
"Hehe, I love you."  
"Ew, stop, Gyu, go take a shower!!"
As you steer Mingyu toward your shared bedroom, you make your way back to your desk, invigorated by the promise you've made to Mingyu to finish as much as you can for tonight. The motivation's enough to push you into the zone as you go through your notes and begin typing away. 
You don't realize how much time's passed until you feel Mingyu's cold hands press against your collarbones. You jump at the sudden touch but groan in familiarity as fingers gingerly find your scalp before you can scold him for surprising you. 
But then you look at the time and curse under your breath, "Fuck, I forgot to order the–"
"It's okay, I ordered fifteen minutes ago. It'll be here in ten."
You kiss Mingyu's knuckle apologetically, "Thanks, babe. I'll let you choose the movie for tonight."
"Really?" he squeals, and you guffaw at the way he flaps his arms around excitedly, making his way to the couch and TV. "Oh my God, this is so sudden. I need to see if they have all the Nancy Meyers movies on Netflix– Or wait, I could pirate it– Or wait, what about our subscription to– Oh no, I forgot to pay the–" 
You slowly turn back around as your boyfriend busies himself with picking a movie for the night and your head throbs as you look at your screen, feeling guilty about ditching the work that awaited you. But then, you tune back into the rambling Mingyu in your living room and you can't help but care more about sitting in your boyfriend's arms with fried chicken crumbs all over your lap. 
And that's what you find yourself doing half an hour later. It's a little bit concerning how focused on the movie– The Holiday, Mingyu had finally chosen– so much so that you have to keep pushing him to eat as well. At one point he chokes on some chicken and you have to pat his back real hard to make sure he stays alive. 
"Are you sure you're trying to keep me alive because–" Cough, "you're going really hard, babe."
You laugh as he returns to normal and push a glass of water toward him, "Of course, big guy, I wouldn't be able to pay rent if you died so keeping you alive makes top 3 on my to-do list."
"Top three? What's more important than keeping me alive?"
"First of all, rude. Second of all – duh, keeping myself alive. That's second on my to-do list."
"Y/N," Mingyu starts warningly, "Please don't tell me number one on your to-do list is to video-record me screaming at that one Youtube video of scary ghost sounds."
"No! Obviously not, Gyu."
"..."
"It was to record you crying over a video of babies saying their first words."
"Aww, come on, Y/N! You know how I feel about that! It's like their lives have begun when they start speaking! They're all alone in this big world!! And don't even get me started when their first words are a parent's name– That's like endgame right there!!!"
Eventually, the two of you manage to get back on track when it came to actually watching the movie – except, you don't. Admittedly, once you've both finished your food and settled in to focus on the television screen, you find your mind wandering. And while once that would've meant something entirely NSFW, thanks to your long hours, you find yourself thinking about work. The work that's sitting right there on your desk that you can see, just sitting there in the darkness, all tangible and full of consequences behind the TV.  And once you start thinking, there's no stopping it and before you know it, you're all up in your head. 
So much so that you're brought back to earth when Mingyu pauses the movie and stares you donw in silence. It takes you a moment but then you bite your lip as you meet his gaze, feeling like you'd been caught red-handed cheating on him. And well, the way he looked at you in disappointment, you might as well have been. 
"Y/N, you've been looking at your desk longingly for the past ten minutes."
You really don't have anything to say for yourself except, "I'm really sorry, Gyu."
He sighs at your quick admission of guilt and you hate the way he peels his arm of your shoulder. "It's okay, if you need to work, you can go work."
"No, but we're watching a movie–"
"There's no point to it if you're distracted."
"I'm sorry, I won't think about work, promise."
"No, no, it's okay, babe," Mingyu reassures you, hand finding your shoulders, rubbing circles into it as you look back at him in dismay, "I'm serious, I don't want to keep you from completing your work. We can finish watching the movie later, alright?"
You deflate a little, "Okay. But I promise I'll make it up to you, okay, Gyu?"
Your boyfriend simply smiles at you and the sight makes you regret ever making him pause the movie when you could've been cuddling into his warmth instead. But he's so sweet when he kisses your cheek, "Don't worry about it, my love." 
The next few days find you absolutely swamped because where you'd thought things would get better slowly, they only got worse. Your internship was more stressful than ever as you found yourself going later and later into the night to keep up with the tasks assigned to you. The report was coming along slower than you'd like. But while you could do something about those things, there were things that felt completely out of your reach. 
For one, you'd been ignoring your mother's calls, a measure you'd taken to protect your fragile mental state. Each time you'd send her quick but cold text saying something along the lines of I'm too busy to talk right now. You felt bad every time you left her hanging but it was undeniable that you felt slightly less deranged in the monrings without her daily check-in. 
But there was also the situation with Mingyu. Ever since movie night, you'd only spent lesser time with him, to the point that even getting to sleep in the same bed at him counted as a win for you. Even when he would come back around lunch but you'd be too busy working to notice and dinners were usually just the two of you talking back and forth about your days. 
At dinner, he seemed fine, answering your questions about class enthusiastically and listening to your own responses eagerly. But you'd notice the way he'd be quick to clear the table once you were both done eating, not even taking the chance to ask you to watch a movie or talk more with him. And though it stung right through your heart, the fact that you couldn't afford to take the initiative yourself left you no choice but to watch as he retired to the bedroom for the night. 
Which is when you come back from that lunch with Yunjin, your head's reeling. Were Mingyu and you fighting? Could you be? It didn't feel like a fight, it was a lot more nonverbal. More subtle. She'd asked you if things were okay and they weren't, but it's also not like they were terrible. They were just worse than okay. 
But Thursday night came around, and you were closer than ever to finish that godforsaken report and head into a much-needed weekend off. Feeling a little cheery in anticipation of all the free time you'd have, you thought you might take a break and ask if Mingyu to get late night ice-cream, an offer you knew he would never turn down. 
However, you're about to enter the room where Mingyu's said he's going go "rot while watching life-sucking short-form media content" (his own words from two hours ago) when you hear his low voice, presumably on the phone. 
"...yeah, man, I don't know, it's getting pretty bad.."
You freeze instantly, your guts lurching as they tell you this conversation probably has something to do with you. Before you can feel bad about eavesdropping or consider the possibility that you're only projecting, Mingyu goes on–
"Of course I've told her! Or at least, I've tried to tell her. I keep trying to get her to leave the house for something other than grocery runs… but it's no use. I kinda gave up after that." He sighs heavily and you hear the sheets shuffle, probably as he turns to his other side, voice now muffled. 
Your fists are at your sides, tight but shaky as you take in what he's saying, both in shock but also in acknowledgment. 
"It's hard for me, too, yeah, I guess. I miss her… non-overburdened self. I wish I could end the stress somehow…"
His voice gets harder to hear at that point or maybe you stop listening– it's hard to tell with the flood of thoughts in your head by then. You detach from the bedroom door and your legs drag you to your desk. You feel yourself sit but mentally, you're still outside the room, hearing Mingyu's honest thoughts for the first time in a week. Honestly, you ought to have seen it coming, with your one-track mind and his tendency to keep things to himself. 
I kinda gave up after that point… You know he's referring to getting you around to a healthier work schedule and still, you can't help but think of the words more generally. Like, in the context of your relationship and well– it was all dominoes anyway, right? One thing after another. Today, it was you neglecting spending time with Mingyu over your internship, tomorrow, what if he's giving up on you and your inability to prioritize? 
You take in a deep breath to steady yourself, feeling your thoughts get out of control. But they don't let up, Mingyu's words ringing in your head loud and clear. He wanted to end the stress– you were causing him stress. You lean into your chair and look up at the ceiling, stomach uneasily swirling. 
No, you tell yourself, you couldn't go based off a snippet of a conversation you eavesdropped on. Besides, Mingyu had every right to be tired of your work ethic and there was nothing you could do except try to get better at it. Slowly, you bring yourself to stare at your screen, plans to take an ice-cream break long abandoned.
A small part of you rationalized that it was already past one and starting tomorrow might be a better idea, but the larger and much more emotional part of you could only hear Mingyu's worn-out voice in the deep of night, and you know you can't stop till you're done.
…And that's how it's nearly six in the morning by the time you pick yourself off your chair. Good news: you've finished one of the biggest reports you'd submit during your internship, which meant you could take a few days off. Bad news: working an all-nighter on top of your sleep-deprived state meant you were barely functioning as you hauled yourself to bed.
More bad news: in your delirious state, you don't make it to the bedroom and pass out on the couch. 
Three hours later, Mingyu wakes up to a cold pillow next to his and sits up faster than he's ever before, mind racing as he calls out for you. Going to sleep to an empty bed, he was used to, but waking up to one was new for him. Every morning, it was to your peaceful sleeping figure he'd open his eyes to, without a mistake. It was the one constant that he was holding on to every morning. So yeah, he's pretty panicked when he finds you passed out cold on the couch. 
He debates why you might've slept on the couch instead of the bed and almost wakes you up because he can't stand the thought that he might've been the reason why. But he stops himself when he hears you snore quietly and instead presses a hand to your cheek lovingly– only to find you burning up. 
"Fuck." 
Fuck is right because when you finally come to, around two hours later, your body feels like a rock and not at all in a zen way. More so, in the way that every time you move, a shriek rips itself from your throat. Speaking of your throat, it's literally never been this dry. When you manage to sit up in bed and take a sip of the water that's conveniently placed next to you–
You half-choke on the liquid in your throat as you realize your surroundings. You didn't remember going to bed last night but then you spot the note on your side. It's from Mingyu.
Y/N: YOU WERE PASSED OUT ON THE COUCH LIKE AN IDIOT. YOU ALSO HAVE A FEVER. CAN U EAT THE PORRIDGE IN THE FRIDGE AFTER HEATING IT UP? I WILL BE BACK BY 3, HAVE A STUPID WORKSHEET TO TURN IN TODAY :( 
And then, in smaller writing:
we'll talk when i get back, okay?
[PS: please be alive when i come back or trust, i will make u pay rent from your grave]
You laugh at his note, the scrawny letters ever so characteristic of him, but immediately regret it when your headache makes its presence known. You groan as you get out of bed. The morning only seems to get more painful as you nurse your burnout-induced fever. Because the universe has perfectly timed your period to start today. So that's already two kinds of pains you're fighting in bed, when your phone rings a little too loud for your liking.
You don't who else you expect: it's your mother. And this is probably not a good time to hear her voice, not when you weren't on good terms, but the combination of your period and a fever has left you more emotionally vulnerable than ever and you find yourself craving her love.
Except you should've known better because when you answer the phone in a weak voice, muttering a "Hi," she's already snapping at you. "Took you long enough to stop ghosting your own mother!"
"Sorry, Mom, I was just… really busy with work. But I'm–"
"Why do you sound like that?" she sounds concerned and the indication of worry has you feeling a little warm despite everything. So you let it slip that you're sick. And where you'd thought you'd receive consolation and cooing, your mother's only reprimanding you: "Great. Now you've gotten yourself sick. You can't even take yourself, can you? When will you grow up, Y/N?"
You barely hold the sob that escapes your lungs at her harsh criticism and she catches on: "Are you crying? Y/N, you're such a kid–" And that's it, you give up. Silently, you hang up on your mother but instead of watching her contact photo fade, you throw your phone away from you in despair and hear as it lands on the floor with a crash. 
And God, everything might've hurt like hell before but now that you're crying, it's so much worse, you think you're going to die. But painful or not, the nasty crying actually feels good when it's out of your system and you think your fever might even be clearing up by the time you hear the front door open, signalling Mingyu's return. 
You sit up in bed, tears long wiped and phone recovered from the floor, as Mingyu enters the room with careful steps. When he notices you awake, he relaxes and meets your eyes with a concerned frown. 
"Hi, Gyu," you greet him through a small smile. 
Mingyu's cautious, more so than you've ever seen him as he regards you from the door of your bedroom: "Hi, babe. Are you feeling better?"
You nod, "Much. Thanks for the porridge. It was disgustingly healing."
Mingyu approaches the bed now, but instead of the quick affection you thought you might receive, he only narrows his eyes at you. Damn it, what was it with your loved ones and just being nice to you for once? (It might have something to do with… like, the consequences of your actions but you don't want to think too hard right now). 
"Why…" Mingyu starts and his voice is unfamiliarly grave. You almost shiver because you must've fucked up big-time if Kim Mingyu's bringing up serious talk for the first time in your years-long relationship with him. "Did you sleep on the couch last night?"
You swallow against your throat, dry once again but for different reasons. "Um, funny story, I kinda passed out there last night… or this morning. But!" you quickly supply your mistake with, "I finished my report early so I have all of today and the weekend to just do nothing."
Once again, Mingyu's looking at you, face serious, not even a hint of a smile and Yunjin's words are returning to you. As much as you hate to admit it, maybe you are fighting with Mingyu and fuck, you hate it. 
"Are you seriously pretending like everything's okay, Y/N?"
Mingyu's words are like a slap across your face, except instead of sending you flying, you end up returning to his words the night before. It's hard for me, he'd said, and you feel the weight of your selfishness all at once, the doubts you'd gotten yourself sick over invading your mind once again. Your eyes fall to your hands.
"You've been working yourself like a dog, Y/N! And now you're sick! Does that make you happy?"
God, you hate the way he says your name like it's a bad word. Or worse, like you're a stranger. Everything he says is a reminder of the burden you've been to him. 
"I'm sorry," your voice is small and you raise your eyes to his– which is a mistake because you catch the hurt look on his face and fuck, you're tearing up. So much for getting it out of your system beforehand. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Gyu."
Mingyu, on the other hand, is completely taken aback when you start shaking, hot tears streaming down your face rapidly. He'd been upset at your poor health and your mental condition the past few days, but he'd expected you to fight back; to defend your actions and to justify why you did what you did like you usually would. It'd be an intense going back and forth but the two of you would eventually fight it out.
But to see you break like this, fists wrapped tight around each other to the point of white– shit, he hadn't seen this coming.
The thing is you've both been on completely different wavelenghts for a while now. Where you've been plagued with self-doubt and guilt because of work, strained calls with family, and now, your fight with Mingyu; Mingyu's just been lonely. It didn't help that you weren't doing too much except small talk in your free time with him.
"Hey, baby, please, I'm– I didn't mean to make you cry. Please, you'll make yourself more sick."
You look up at him through tears in confusion, voice breaking, "You're… not mad at me?"
Mingyu frowns, "I am. But it doesn't mean I'll watch you cry yourself to death."
"God, I'm sorry, Gyu… I– I overheard you talking on the phone last night."
It takes him a moment to make sense of what you're saying but when his own conversation comes back to him, his heart's squeezing uncomfortably. "You heard me?" He feels guilt, regret, and hurt all at once. 
"I'm so sorry, Mingyu, I didn't mean to be such a bad girlfriend– heck, I was such a bad roommate this past week. And I'm sorry I was a burden to you when you have your own problems to deal with–"
Mingyu interrupts you when he crawls upto and places your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes are wide and you can visibly see the tears pricking there as he stares at you. "Y/N, the literal love of my life, what the actual fuck are you saying? You're not a burden to me. And what problems have you burdened with me when we barely talk about anything real these days?"
You purse your lips at the deserved call-out and Mingyu shakes you, "Babe, I wish you were more burdensome. I want to know everything that's worrying you. Please, I can't be there for you if I don't even know what demons you're fighting."
You blink away fresh tears at his genuine words. "I'm… on my period."
"Oh," breathes Mingyu, hands dropping to your shoulders, "Is it your first day?"
"Yes. And I've been fighting with my mom. My whole family maybe. But specifically her."
Mingyu wraps his arms fully around you this time. "God, I'm so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea you were having family problems. Is it because you didn't go back home?" When he feels you slowly nod against him, he says, "That sucks. But did you tell them how hard you've been working at this internship?"
"Mhmm, but my mom still thinks I won't ever be as good as you."
Mingyu pulls away at that, "Me? You talk to your mom about me? Wait, no, I mean, why does she think that?"
You contain a smile, "She knows you have summer school and that you go to class at nine. That's much more admirable than stupid little me who wakes up at eleven and eats cereal for breakfast. And then I went and got sick. So now she also thinks I can't take care of myself."
"...I think she might be right about that last part," Mingyu tells you with a pointed look and you push him away with a broken sigh. 
"I know, but you know what really gets my goat, Gyu? That you were dishing about me to someone else instead of calling me out to my face. If I was being a little bitch, I would rather you tell me. I don't want you to bottle it up and end up feeling resentful toward me."
"Hold on a minute, where is this coming from? Who said anything about you being a little bitch? If anything, you were a really massive bitch but only to yourself. I could tell that you felt bad about not spending time with me. But I wasn't ever resentful, I was just… lonely. I meant what I told Shua last night: I just miss you! And doing things with you..."
You scan his face for signs of any dishonesty but it's the same handsome but honest face that stares back at you. You lean into him until your forehead bumps against his chest, partly to feel his warmth again and partly to hide the tears that bubble out again. "Sorry. I was just. I was so scared that you were gonna want to break up with me."
Almost instantaneously, Mingyu's grip is on you, stronger than usual so that it actually hurts as he pulls you away. "What?" he asks in disbelief, "Are you genuinely insane. I'm going to need you to never say those words again. Please. Don't bring the possibility of that into existence or I will have to hurl myself back into my mother's womb."
You find yourself half-laughing and half-crying at his hysteric concern, entertained but also so incredibly relieved that Mingyu hates the thought of leaving you as much you do.
While you don't say anything and simply travel the territory between laughter and tears, Mingyu is genuinely losing it: "No, Y/N, I don't think you understand. That is simply not on the table. We've been dating for like, three months? I have so many things I want to do with you, okay? So if you're having these thoughts, throw them the fuck out because I'm going to actually pass away."
You finally break and shut Mingyu up with a kiss– a real kiss, and only pull away to mumble, "It's been a while, boyfriend. I love you so much it hurts."
You're only a little shocked when Mingyu sniffles, because you'd felt his cheeks dampen halfway through the kiss. His hand finds the back of your neck, keeping your lips a breath away from his. "Stupid girlfriend. Thinks she can play with my feelings and then kiss her way through a sorry." But he kisses you again anyway and you kiss him back with equal passion, convincing him enough to stop his crying.
"God, we must both look like shit right now," you giggle when you pull away, running a finger across his red cheeks. "Sorry I made you cry."
"I love you," Mingyu replies, "And if you ever overwork yourself to the point of sickness again, I will hurt you." 
"The way we talk is concerning to me sometimes. It sounds like we're… married or something. As if we're not literal college students. And as if you're not the biggest coward ever."
"Not sure why you felt the need to say that last thing but– Wasn't it Kazuha who said we were like her parents sometimes? We could live-stream our fights and market them as childhood nostalgia for kids around the world."
You can't keep your laughter in at his plan, but hit his arm anyway to let him know where you stood. "Damn it, Kim Mingyu, that's it, I'm going to call Zuha and tell her to block you as soon as she can." 
"But before I do that, can we go back to being irresponsible, unmarried young adults in love and order take-out for dinner? Please?"
Mingyu's grinning already, and you want to pick him up and pocket him for how adorable he can be but resort to gazing at him with hearts for eyes as he declares, "Of course, love, what do you wanna eat tonight?"
"You can decide. I'll go wash up in the meantime."
"Wait, I'll come with, I need to shower, too."
Now things start to get better. You settle into a comfortable silence with Mingyu, and as you snuggle next to him, you let the scent of him overwhelm you with a giddy smile. The food in your plate is warm and Mingyu is giggly as you finally finish watching The Holiday, and for once, your period cramps are merciful, for the pain of laughter brewing in your stomach is far more intense.
And the pain of love, as you watch Mingyu put away the leftovers from dinner and clean up the kitchen for the night. You'd volunteered to do the dishes but he simply pushed you into a chair at the kitchen table with a soft sigh and honestly, you're not complaining. He's better at doing them anyway.
In the dim glow of the quiet kitchen light, Mingyu's all soft edges, so careful as he wipes the damp plate you'd shared just a few minutes ago and the look in his eyes is loving when he finally makes his way back to you, asking if you'd like to head to bed now.
For the next few days, it's so easy to forget about time because you find yourself talking it away in Mingyu's arms, fighting the urge to kiss him every time he guffaws at something you say. But you also let him drag you out of the house, a real date in the city, both of you dressed up and blushy under the lamplights as you walk back from dinner. 
Wine-drunk, Mingyu stops you outside the front-door to the apartment and leans down to peck your cheek. The modest action has you all flustered and you let out an embarassed huff. "What are you kissing me good-night for?" you ask, more amused than you are confused. 
Mingyu's eyes twinkle in response, head clearly wrapped around some new plot. "I said I'd walk you home. This is home. You should head inside first." 
You laugh when he stands with his hands politely clasped in front of him, catching on to the bit. Only Kim Mingyu would think to pretend to be a shy first date dropping you off home, as if you hadn't known each other for as long as you'd known to love. 
"Ah, I didn't even realize we reached home. Such a shame," you cheekily step closer to him, one hand brushing against his crossed arms, "Do you want to come inside? We can… do things."
Mingyu breaks character with a toothy grin at that, "You're so bad at this!"
"What?" you ask in feigned offense, "I'm inviting you inside!"
"Yeah, but to "do things"? Is that really how you've been flirting with your first dates, babe? Actually, no, don't answer that– Unless? There's no way that works, right? Or do you just charm your way through the awkwardness– No, but that's just–"
"Okay, now you're rambling, big guy," you hook an arm around his and pull him inside after you. "Come on inside, we have things to do."
"Hmm, and these things…" Mingyu hums with an undertone of mischief, his arms sneaking around your waist already, "...they wouldn't include getting naked and um, cuddling?"
"Gross, Gyu! I was offering to watch a movie but– You're such a creepy little pervert– Ha– AGH, Okay, okay, okay, sorry, I'll stop! You can drop the threatening sock now please– NO, DON'T YOU DARE THROW IT AT ME, KIM MINGYU–" 
The next day, you're sure to call Yunjin up, who picks up with a heavy groan and before she can curse you out for waking her, you ask her if she wants to get lunch. "Gyu's coming, too, if that's okay?" Yunjin pauses. And then: "Ugh. So you guys finally made up? Thank God. I was getting tired of the passive aggressive texts from Joshua about you and Mingyu. Speaking of which, can I invite Joshua? He'll shut up if he sees you two in love in person."
– 
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
i tried to preserve the best friend banter dynamic but given that they were fighting, it was a liltle hard. idk i can't tell if this is any good but it's something! i promise to proof-read later.... probably... anyway, ... thank you for reading and i love reading any feedback slash reviews in the tags so pls do let me know <3 lots of love to my friends and foes!!!! bye.
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hoshifighting · 1 month
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I can do it for you
Synopsis: After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch.
Word Count: 8k
Warnings: Smut, fantasy, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), g'spot stimulation, overstimulation, oversensitivity, sex fluids and... HOUSEWIFE MINGYU?!
You've always been one of those independent souls since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. Nobody had to tell you how to tie your shoes or pour your own cereal; you were on it like a hawk on a mouse. That's just how you rolled.
Every morning, without fail, the alarm clock would screech you awake. You'd drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but ready to tackle whatever the day threw at you. Bleary-eyed, you'd stumble out of bed, wishing for just a few more minutes of shut-eye.
Then it was off into the madhouse of morning traffic. Cars honking, people yelling—it was like a scene straight out of a circus. One hand massaging your temple, while the other holds the wheel, again, what would be the excuse about being late for your supervisee?
Once you strutted into the office, it was game time. Arms loaded up with documents, and the sound of your heels echoing through the corridors until you plopped down at your desk. Your boss, with his constant nitpicking, was like a pesky mosquito buzzing around your head, while you practically sizzled your fingertips on the keyboard.
As the end of the month drew near, it was like a race against the clock in the department. Everyone was scrambling to wrap up their projects, racing against time like sprinters gunning for the finish line. The hours seemed to slip through their fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass.
Phones were ringing off the hook, papers were flying left and right, and the clickety-clack of keyboards filled the air like a drumbeat. It was a whirlwind of activity, with no time to spare for even a quick breather.
As you finally left the building, the thought of tackling the grocery store was the furthest thing from your mind. Rush hour was in full swing, and the last thing you wanted was to spend a few more hours stuck in traffic. 
With a sigh of exhaustion, you let your purse plop onto the couch, and you dashed towards the bathroom, craving the comfort of a hot shower to wash away the day's stress. But as soon as you twisted the knob to turn on the water, you were met with a disappointing blast of icy coldness. Great, just what you needed—a malfunctioning shower.
You knew the drill all too well. The resistance had probably burned out again, leaving you with no choice but to endure a bone-chilling cold shower. Normally, you'd roll up your sleeves and tackle the problem head-on, but right now, the thought of dealing with it was more than you could bear.
So, with a resigned shrug, you decided to tough it out. A cold shower was better than no shower at all, and besides, you were too tired to bother with fixing it tonight. As you stepped under the frigid stream of water, you couldn't help but curse your luck.
With some unexpected free time on your hands, you found yourself rummaging through the forgotten stuff tucked away in the drawer beneath the TV. Dust bunnies greeted you as you pulled out various items—a picture frame with a photo of your graduation, a stack of letters from high school friends, old books with worn covers, and... 
You blinked in surprise as you pulled out what appeared to be a wishbook. Memories flooded back to you as you flipped through its pages, the corners dog-eared and the edges frayed from years of neglect. You vaguely remembered creating this in middle school, jotting down your hopes and dreams for your adult life.
You couldn't help but be taken aback as you glanced through the pages of the wishbook, tracing your finger over each childhood dream that had somehow become a reality.
"When I grow up, I want to drive a red car." You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the day you drove off the lot in that sleek red beauty, feeling like the queen of the road.
"When I grow up, I want to work at my dream job." It hadn't been an easy journey, filled with ups and downs and more than a few setbacks along the way. But through sheer grit and determination, you had landed your dream job, doing what you loved day in and day out.
"When I grow up, I want to have my own apartment." Well, here you were, sitting in your very own slice of paradise. Sure, it might not be the biggest or the fanciest place in town, but it was yours. And that was all that mattered.
You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity as you gazed at the blank pages at the end of the wishbook. What if you wrote something new? Something unexpected, something you hadn't even considered before?
With a sudden impulse, you grabbed your phone and dialed up your friend. After a few rings, she answered, her voice laced with amusement.
"Hey there, what's up?" she chirped.
"Hey," you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone. "I was just thinking... what do you think I've been needing in my life?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line before your friend burst into laughter. "Oh, that's easy," she said between giggles. "You need a boyfriend!"
You couldn't help but frown at her response. "Really? Out of all the things in the world, a boyfriend?"
She chuckled, sensing your skepticism. "Okay Y/N, maybe not a boyfriend exactly," she conceded, "but someone to take care of you. You're always the one taking care of everything that falls into your hands. Have you ever thought about taking a break? Having someone to do it for you for once?"
Her words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition. She was right—you were constantly taking care of everyone and everything around you, but who was taking care of you?
You chuckled to yourself as you scribbled down the traits you wanted in a potential boyfriend, feeling a bit silly but also oddly excited at the prospect. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself lost in thought, lost in the whimsical world of daydreams and possibilities.
"A guy who is proactive, kind, maybe a little bit clingy?" you mused aloud, tapping the pen against your chin. "Someone who knows their way around the kitchen... As you continued to brainstorm, you found yourself getting a bit carried away. "Good-looking and tall, with long hair and puppy-dog eyes"
The more you wrote, the more absurdly perfect your imaginary boyfriend became. It was almost like describing a prince straight out of a fairy tale, complete with all the clichéd traits and characteristics.
As you looked over the words you had written in the wishbook, a wave of doubt washed over you. You couldn't help but cringe at the seemingly unrealistic expectations you had set for yourself. Closing the wishbook with a sigh, you tossed it onto the center table, feeling a pang of disappointment.
"It was just a coincidence," you muttered to yourself, trying to rationalize away the strange alignment of your childhood dreams with your current reality. It seemed too far-fetched to believe that your wishes had somehow come true.
With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom, longing for the solace of sleep to sweep you away from the uncertainty of the day. Maybe it was time to let go of the notion that wishes could come true and focus on the here and now.
And there it was, like a cruel joke, that goddamn alarm blaring in your ear, dragging you kicking and screaming out of the sweet embrace of sleep. With a groan of frustration, you stumbled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, bracing yourself for another shitty, cold-ass shower.
The water hit you like a slap in the face as you hurriedly scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. No time for luxuriating in a warm bath, oh no, not in your world.
After hastily toweling off, you raced around the house like a madman, searching for that elusive perfect piece to complete your look. But in the end, it was all just chaos, a jumbled mess of clothes and accessories that left you feeling more frazzled than ever.
As you stormed out the door and into the chaos of the morning rush hour, you couldn't help but curse under your breath at the sea of cars stretched out before you. It was like a never-ending nightmare, a never-ending parade of honking horns and exhaust fumes.
And then there was your boss, with his never-ending stream of shit, nitpicking every little thing you did like a goddamn broken record. You plastered on a fake smile and nodded along, all the while seething with rage on the inside.
You trudged wearily from the elevator, each step sending shooting pains through your feet courtesy of those godforsaken heels. The keys jangled in your hand as you finally reached your apartment door, the promise of relief beckoning you inside.
With a sigh of relief, you swung open the door and kicked off your heels, reveling in the cool touch of the floor against your bare feet. But as you stepped further into the apartment, something felt off.
The air was thick with the scent of food, and a faint hum drifted through the air. Panic surged through you as you realized that someone had invaded your sanctuary.
Heart pounding, you tiptoed through the apartment, checking every nook and cranny for signs of an intruder. But each room you entered was empty, the only sound the echo of your own footsteps.
Finally, you reached the kitchen, and there he was—a tall figure standing at the stove, his back to you as he hummed a tune under his breath. It took a moment for the shock to register, but when it did, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through you.
"Who the hell are you?" you demanded, your voice sharp with disbelief and anger as you confronted the intruder. The guy nearly jumped out of his skin, and you flinched together.
"What are you doing here? Leave!" you insisted, your heart pounding in your chest as you pointed the kitchen utensil in his direction.
The intruder hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice trembling slightly. "I-I'm Mingyu," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear.
You scoffed, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not enough to ease your suspicion. "Mingyu? Who the fuck is Mingyu?" you snapped, your anger boiling over.
But then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Mingyu... the random name you had created for the boyfriend in your wishbook, the one you had jokingly listed out the qualities you wanted in a partner.
Your laughter was hollow and bitter as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding me?" you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm calling the police."
But before you could reach for the phone, the intruder lunged forward, grabbing the wishbook from the center table. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.
You watched in confusion as he flipped through the pages, his eyes widening in shock as he read the list of qualities you had written down. 
You eyed the wishbook with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension as the intruder waved it in front of you, his excitement palpable. Every detail you had written down seemed to describe him perfectly—tall, with puppy-dog eyes, and even the long hair. It was uncanny.
But despite the strange coincidence, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Keeping your distance, you raised the pan threateningly, the question burning on your lips. "How did you get into my house?" you demanded, your voice sharp with suspicion.
The intruder's eyes widened in alarm, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I just woke up on the couch, I swear."
Your heart raced as you processed his words. He didn't seem to be lying, but the situation was just too bizarre to comprehend. How could someone just magically appear in your home, especially someone who seemed to fit the description of your fictional boyfriend?
With a wary glance, you slowly lowered the pan, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "Well, you better start explaining," you muttered, your mind racing with a million different possibilities.
You paced back and forth in front of the couch, your mind spinning with disbelief as you tried to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before you. "So you're telling me that I manifested you by my wishbook?" you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief.
The intruder nodded solemnly, reaching for the wishbook and flipping it over to reveal a small gold star etched into the back cover. "See this?" he said, pointing to the star. "This is a manifestation charm. It's what brought me here."
Your frown deepened as you studied the tiny symbol, your mind struggling to comprehend the bizarre turn of events. "But... how?" you muttered, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.
The intruder's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at you. "Where did you get this book?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
You racked your brain, trying to recall where you had acquired the wishbook all those years ago. And then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. "A mystique store," you blurted out, the memories flooding back in a rush. "I bought it from a mystique store years ago."
You sank onto the couch beside him, the weight of the revelation settling over you like a heavy blanket. It was hard to wrap your head around the idea that a simple book could hold such mysterious powers.
You turned to the intruder, your curiosity piqued as you sought answers to the questions burning in your mind. "Where did you come from?" you asked, your voice laced with both apprehension and fascination.
The intruder hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away as if he were wrestling with his response. "I... I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's all a bit... fuzzy."
You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering how someone could not know their own age or origins. "What do you mean, fuzzy?" you pressed, your curiosity growing by the second.
The intruder sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I woke up on your couch with no memory of how I got here or where I came from," he explained, his expression troubled. "All I know is that I felt drawn to you somehow, like I was meant to find you."
"You didn't have a life before?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief as you looked at the intruder sitting beside you.
He nodded solemnly, his expression tinged with sadness. "Yes, I did. But it's all... blurry, like a dream that I can't quite remember."
Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Where did you live before?" you pressed, your curiosity getting the better of you.
The intruder's gaze drifted towards the window, his hands gesturing vaguely in front of him. "Somewhere like this," he murmured, his voice distant. 
You followed his gaze, staring out at the endless expanse of buildings and lights stretching out before you. It was a sight you had grown accustomed to over the years, but seeing it through the eyes of someone who had never experienced it before brought a strange sense of wonder.
"And now?" you prompted, turning back to the intruder beside you.
He shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, I'm here," he replied simply, his eyes meeting yours with hope.
You blinked in surprise as the intruder broke the silence, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I fixed the shower," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice.
You widened your eyebrows, your mind struggling to process his words. "You... fixed the shower?" you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief.
The intruder nodded eagerly, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, it was just a small problem with the resistance. I managed to sort it out," he explained, his tone casual as if he hadn't just performed a miracle.
You couldn't help but stare at him in astonishment, your mind racing with a million questions. How had he known there was a problem with the shower? And more importantly, how had he fixed it so quickly?
But before you could voice your thoughts, he continued, "Oh, and I went to the supermarket and washed your clothes too."
Your jaw practically hit the floor as his words sank in. "You... went to the supermarket?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
The intruder nodded, his smile widening at your stunned expression. "Yep, got everything on your list. And the laundry was piling up, so I took care of that too," he said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
You were at a loss for words, your mind reeling with the sheer absurdity of the situation. This man, this stranger who had magically appeared in your living room, had taken it upon himself to fix your shower, do your grocery shopping, and even wash your clothes—all without being asked.
"But... why?" you finally managed to sputter out, your voice tinged with confusion.
The intruder shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Why not?" he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"Come here," he beckoned, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you trailed after him, unsure of what to expect.
As he lifted the lid of the pan on the stove, a delicious aroma wafted up, making your mouth water. "Wow," you murmured, impressed by the sight of the freshly cooked food before you. "You cooked all of this?"
He nodded proudly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, thought I'd whip up a little something for us to eat," he replied, gesturing towards the table where two plates were already set.
You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, grateful for the unexpected gesture. But then your eyes drifted to the clothesline in the corner of the room, where an array of freshly washed clothing hung neatly.
"Oh my god," you gasped, your hand flying to cover your face in embarrassment. "You washed everything?"
The intruder followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the recently laundered garments with a hint of amusement. "Yep, everything," he confirmed, his tone light and playful.
Your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized just how intimate some of the items hanging on the line were. "I... uh..." you stammered, at a loss for words.
He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hey, I gotta say, those puppy-stamped underwear of yours are pretty cute," he teased, a playful glint in his eye.
You buried your face in your hands, the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. "Oh my god, stop," you groaned, mortified by the unexpected turn of events.
[...]
As you emerged from the warmth of the bath, wrapped snugly in your pajamas, you found Mingyu already fast asleep on the couch, curled up into a small ball. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a pang of sympathy tugged at your heartstrings as you watched him sleep.
You couldn't deny that he looked rather adorable, all shrunken and peaceful in his slumber. If you had asked for a short man in your wishbook, he certainly fit the couch.
But as you glanced at your bed, you knew that letting him sleep there was out of the question. He may have magically appeared in your life, but he was still a stranger, and you weren't about to let your guard down just yet.
Sure, you could kick him out onto the cold streets, but the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You weren't heartless, after all, and it was clear that he didn't have a place to go. He hadn't asked to be here, and the circumstances of his arrival were still shrouded in mystery.
But as you glanced at him sleeping peacefully, his features softened in the glow of the moonlight, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of responsibility towards him. After all, he was just as much a victim of whatever strange forces had brought him here as you were.
With a sigh, you resigned yourself to the fact that he would have to stay—for now, at least. You could figure out the details in the morning, once the shock of the day had worn off and your mind was clearer.
As you stirred awake to the aroma of freshly brewed coffeee, you nearly jumped out of your skin before remembering that Mingyu was there. With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
As you got ready for work, the thought of facing another chaotic day loomed over you like a dark cloud. But as you emerged into the living room, the sight of a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you on the table brought a small smile to your face.
You took a tentative sip, and It was so good that you couldn't help but shake off the idea of going to the coffee shop today.
"Mingyu, I'm leaving," you announced, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door. "I'll be back at 7pm. Do you need anything?"
Just as you were about to step out, Mingyu appeared in the living room, a packed lunch in his hands. "Here," he said, offering you the lunchbox. "Eat well, and I'll be waiting for you."
You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, but as your eyes fell on him, clad in one of your shirts from a rock band, you couldn't suppress a laugh. The shirt was stretched to its limits, barely covering his tummy while his biceps threatened to tear through the fabric.
"Okay, I'm definitely going to buy you some clothes," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can't I walk without them?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.
You widened your eyes in mock horror. "Of course not!" you exclaimed, feigning shock. "You can't just walk naked on the street!"
Mingyu tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't I?" he countered, a playful grin spreading across his face.
You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, you definitely can't," you replied with a chuckle. "Now, behave yourself while I'm gone, okay?"
Mingyu nodded solemnly, his smile widening. "I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
As you sat down to eat your lunch at work, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from your coworkers. They watched you with envious eyes as you savored each bite of the delicious meal that Mingyu had prepared for you.
Suppressing a smile, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Mingyu for his thoughtfulness. Despite the strange circumstances of his arrival, he had gone out of his way to make sure you were well-fed and taken care of.
As you enjoyed the flavors of the homemade meal, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about Mingyu's character and the bond that was beginning to form between the two of you.
As the evening rolled around and you left work, you were determined to fulfill your promise to yourself and Mingyu. You headed to the shopping district, the image of Mingyu looking like a doll lingering in your mind.
You browsed through the racks of clothing, selecting pieces that you thought would suit him perfectly. It was a strange feeling, shopping for someone else with such care and attention, but with each item you picked out, you couldn't help but imagine how handsome Mingyu would look in them.
You found yourself spending more on clothing for Mingyu than you did for yourself, but you didn't mind in the slightest. After all, he was the one who needed them the most, and you were determined to make sure he looked his best.
With each new outfit you selected, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. This was your chance to dress Mingyu exactly how you had imagined your dream boyfriend to be, and you were going to make sure he looked absolutely perfect.
You arrived home to find Mingyu sitting on the couch, your wishbook in his hands. As you entered, he quickly put the book aside and rose to help you with the heavy bags of clothing.
"You didn't need to buy all of these," he said, his expression turning slightly sullen as he glanced at the bags.
You brushed off his concern with a wave of your hand, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It's fine, Mingyu," you reassured him. "I have a good salary now, and it's nice to be able to buy things for someone else, not just for myself."
As you settled onto the couch, Mingyu's gaze lingered on the bags of clothing beside you. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he were eager to see what you had bought.
Mingyu removed his shirt as you sat on the couch, unpacking the bags of clothing around you. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his form, admiring the way the fabric of his jeans clung to his legs and the muscles rippled beneath his skin.
Noticing your gaze, Mingyu chuckled softly. "Like what you see?" he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
You blushed slightly, feeling caught off guard by his remark. "Um, I was just admiring the clothes," you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, how about I model them for you?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
You couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion, the tension melting away as you relaxed into the playful banter. "Like a parade?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Mingyu nodded eagerly, already reaching for one of the bags. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his excitement contagious.
As he began to try on the new clothes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. It was like watching a fashion show, with Mingyu as the star of the runway.
With each new outfit he tried on, you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he pulled off each look. From casual jeans and a t-shirt to a sleek button-down shirt, he looked absolutely stunning in everything he wore.
s you walked towards him with the silver chain in hand, Mingyu watched you with a curious expression, his eyes following your every move. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you approached, a strange tension building between the two of you.
With a slight frown of concentration, you struggled to fasten the chain around his neck, your fingers fumbling with the clasp as you tried to maneuver it into place. Mingyu stood patiently, his eyes fixed on you as you teetered on the tips of your toes, trying to reach him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to secure the chain around his neck, the silver gleaming against his dark shirt. As you took a step back, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. It was the closest you had ever been to Mingyu since he appeared in your life.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Mingyu's gaze with a shy smile. "There you go," 
Mingyu glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting the silver chain around his neck before walking over to you with a grateful smile.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and sincerity. "You didn't have to do all this for me."
You returned his smile, shaking your head. "It's the least I could do," you replied, your tone light. "After all, you didn't exactly ask to be summoned," you added, making air quotes with your fingers for emphasis.
Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and melodious. "I suppose you have a point there," he conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm certainly not complaining about it."
"Hmm, Mingyu, do you want to hang out?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Mingyu frowned slightly, looking at you with curiosity. "Where?" he inquired, his tone tinged with uncertainty.
You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of showing Mingyu a good time. "Just wait here, I'll get ready," you replied, hurrying off to your room to change.
It was Friday night, and you were used to spending it with your friends, going out and having a good time. And what better way to show Mingyu a bit of the city than to take him out with you?
You turned around to find Mingyu standing in your bedroom, his eyes lingering on your black dress and the silver chain adorning your neck. His gaze was filled with curiosity as he took in your appearance.
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his eyes. "Well, what do you think?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Are we matching tonight?" he teased, gesturing to his own black shirt and jeans.
You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful banter. "I guess we are," you replied, a smile dancing in your eyes. 
Mingyu's eyes softened, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "You look beautiful," he said softly, his words filled with sincerity.
A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at his words. "Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
As you entered the bustling club with Mingyu by your side, the loud music and flashing lights engulfed you both. Mingyu seemed to take it all in stride, moving through the crowd with an ease that suggested he was no stranger to such environments.
You couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed at him as you made your way to the bar. Tall, charismatic, and undeniably handsome, Mingyu certainly attracted attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you had such a captivating companion by your side.
Taking a seat at the bar, you turned to Mingyu with a smile. "What'll it be?" you asked, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the music.
Mingyu glanced at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Surprise me," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement.
You grinned, turning to the bartender to place your order, as you waited for your drinks to arrive.
As Mingyu glanced around the crowded club, his eyes filled with curiosity, he turned to you with a thoughtful expression.
"Hey, do boyfriend and girlfriend usually come to places like this?" he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.
You paused for a moment, considering his question carefully. Did Mingyu see the two of you as boyfriend and girlfriend? The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions.
"Well, sometimes," you replied, choosing your words carefully. "Couples come here to have fun and let loose together."
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on yours. "So, are we... like that?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the possibility of being more than just friends with Mingyu sending a thrill through you. But you didn't want to assume anything without knowing how he felt.
"I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "What do you think?"
"Well, you wrote in your wishbook that you wanted a boyfriend," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Your eyes widened in surprise, realization dawning on you. "Oh, right," you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I guess I did, didn't I?"
Mingyu shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess I just wanted to understand," he admitted. "To see if... if maybe I could be that person for you."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "I suppose you are," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought.
After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind. "Am I even your type?" you blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.
Mingyu's eyes traveled over you, his gaze intense as he took in your appearance. He seemed to be studying you, his expression unreadable.
You held your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect. The tension between you was palpable, as you waited for Mingyu's answer.
He bit his lip, a gesture that sent a wave of heat coursing through you. "You're exactly my type…" he replied, his voice husky.
"Is that so?" you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Well, you'll have to work harder than that to win me over."
Mingyu chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I plan to," he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "After all, I'm everything you wanted, right?"
You couldn't help but shake your head at his boldness, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of what the night might hold.
"Maybe," you replied with a grin, unable to resist the playful banter. "But I'll believe it when I see it."
Mingyu leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I read the last pages of your wishbook," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "And let me tell you, I can definitely make all your wildest dreams come true."
And in minutes, everything happened. 
You found yourself naked on your couch, your body laid bare before Mingyu, who gazed at you with desire in his eyes. Your legs were spread wide, draped over his shoulders as he knelt before you, his hands trailing over your skin with a gentle touch.
As you held your wish book in your hand, Mingyu's voice broke through the silence, his tone teasing yet filled with curiosity. "So, what's your first wish?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.
You felt your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you at the thought of revealing your innermost desires. But with Mingyu's gaze burning into you, you couldn't hold back.
"I... I wished for a guy who could make me cum on his tongue," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.
Mingyu's eyes darkened with desire at your words, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 
As Mingyu's tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, a shiver of pleasure shot through your body, leaving you trembling. You gripped the wish book tightly in one hand, your nails digging into the pages as Mingyu's mouth worked its magic on you. "Oh fuck, Mingyu!" 
With each flick of his tongue against your clit, you felt yourself unraveling. His arms wrapped around you, holding you steady as you writhed and moaned, unable to control the flood of pleasure coursing through you.
Your other hand tangled in Mingyu's locks, pulling him closer as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue swirled around your bud, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves.
You moaned his name over and over, the sound filling the air as Mingyu's tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge. You felt yourself dripping with arousal, the combination of Mingyu's saliva and your own juices coating the couch beneath you.
As Mingyu's tongue penetrated slightly into your pussy, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to form coherent words.
"What... what are you doing?" you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.
But before you could even finish your question, Mingyu's tongue penetrated you again, sending a shock shooting through your body. Your legs shook on his arms, your whole body trembling with need.
"Oh Mingyu, that feels so good" you moaned, your voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.
Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue, his movements becoming faster. He sucked on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before diving deep inside you once again, driving you to the brink of orgasm with each tantalizing stroke.
As you held onto Mingyu's locks tighter, he moaned in response, the vibrations sending a surge of pleasure on your pussy. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, your body trembling with anticipation.
"I'm... I'm cumming," you gasped, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your release.
Mingyu looked up at you, his eyes dark as he asked, "Are you going to cum on my tongue, just like you wished for?"
You nodded desperately, your whole body tensing with anticipation as you felt the waves of pleasure building inside you. The wishbook slipped from your grasp, completely forgotten as Mingyu's tongue continued to lap your clit.
"Yes," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, just like that."
And with a final flick of his tongue against your clit, Mingyu pushed you over the edge, making you come undone, riding his face to ride your orgasm, your mind clouded with the intensity of your orgasm.
As Mingyu got up, holding the forgotten wishbook in his hands, he turned to you with a curious expression. "Let's see what your next wish is," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.
Your hands, still trembling from the recent orgasm, reached out to take the wishbook from him. You flipped through the pages until you found the next wish, your heart racing with anticipation.
And as you read the words on the page, your cheeks flushed with heat at the explicit nature of the wish. It was about a guy who didn't go easy on you, who took control and pushed you to your limits.
You looked up at Mingyu, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and apprehension. "Is... is this something you can do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he met your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. "I can do whatever you want," he replied, his voice low and husky.
As Mingyu lowered his pants, revealing his big, throbbing cock, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with apprehension. It was something you had written in your wishbook - a cock that fulfills you - but you hadn't expected it to be quite so... big.
His cock laid heavy in his hand as he stroked himself, the slick sound of precum making itself known with each movement. You felt your cheeks flush red as you watched, a mix of desire and uncertainty swirling within you.
"It... it won't fit," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Mingyu's gaze.
Mingyu chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "Don't worry," he reassured you, his voice husky with desire. "I'll make it fit."
As Mingyu laid you down comfortably, spreading you wider, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and embarrassment wash over you. His cock slid against your pussy, teasing but not yet penetrating, and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself growing wetter with anticipation.
You almost covered your face in shame, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. But Mingyu's teasing words only served to fuel the fire burning within you.
"That's all you wanted, isn't it?" he teased, his voice laced with desire as he looked into your eyes. "A guy with a big cock to fuck your brains out? Well, lucky for you, I'm here, hm?"
His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn't help but arch your hips, silently urging him to take you. You wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside you, filling you completely and making you cum. 
As Mingyu continued to tease you, his words sending shivers of desire down your spine, he remarked on your hectic work schedule. "You work so hard," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You need someone to take all that stress out of you."
His words hit home, resonating with the part of you that longed for release, both physically and emotionally. You couldn't deny the truth in his words; after all, you had spent so long shouldering the weight of your responsibilities alone.
As Mingyu's cock teased against your clit, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Every movement, every touch drove you closer and closer to the brink, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.
And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when you felt yourself on the verge of exploding with pleasure, Mingyu slammed his hard cock inside of your cunt with a force that took your breath away. Your pussy stretched around him, so tight and so full, that you could barely contain the overwhelming sensation.
As you arched your back in pleasure, the sensation of Mingyu's cock buried deep inside you driving you to new heights of ecstasy, he teased you mercilessly. "I'm still," he murmured between moans, his voice laced with desire. "You're almost cumming."
His words sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your pussy clenching around him with each tantalizing movement. Mingyu's cock felt impossibly hard and thick inside you, stretching you to your limits as he held himself still, savoring the exquisite torture of denying you release.
He put your knees on your chest and started pounding inside of you, hitting that spongy spot dead-on with the first thrust. You screamed in your living room, rolling your eyes back in sheer ecstasy.
No mercy, just like you wanted.
Mingyu looked at your pleasured face, making sure he was hitting all the right spots to drive you wild. And judging by the way you were moaning and writhing beneath him, he was definitely doing something right.
"You're so wet for me," his voice dripped with lust. "You can't get enough of my cock, can you? You want me to fuck you harder, don't you?"
You nodded eagerly, unable to form words as pleasure washed over you in waves.
As Mingyu pounded into you harder, your body tensed, your abdomen trembling with anticipation as you felt the orgasm approaching. He bit his lip, holding back his moans as your walls spasmed around him, indicating your impending climax.
You gripped the couch tightly, your nails digging into the fabric as pleasure washed over you in waves. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to relieve the overwhelming sensation building inside you.
And then it hit you, like a tidal wave crashing over you with unstoppable force. You came, hard and fast, your orgasm ripping through you as you spasmed uncontrollably beneath Mingyu.
You came on him, on the couch, on his cock, unable to contain the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. And as Mingyu watched you cumming in a matter of minutes, a proud moan escaped his lips, his eyes filled with satisfaction at having brought you so much pleasure.
As Mingyu held your legs to the sides, spreading you open and angling his cock in a way that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, you squirmed helplessly beneath him. Every movement sent jolts of oversensitivity coursing through your body, and you cried out in pleasure and desperation.
But Mingyu held firm, his gaze locked with yours as he reminded you of your wish for him not to take it easy on you. "You wanted this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You wanted me to push you to your limits."
You whimpered in response, the sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit driving you to the brink of insanity. "I can't take it," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't take it anymore."
But Mingyu only moaned in response, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm as he continued to tease and torment you. "You'll need to take it," he whispered, his voice sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.
"Just a little more," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "I'm almost there, baby. Just hold on for me."
As you held Mingyu's neck, drawing him closer to you for another kiss, you found yourself lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. But with each moan that escaped your lips, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the kiss, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body making it impossible to focus on anything else.
Mingyu noticed your struggle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe beneath him. His face contorted in pleasure, mirroring the ecstasy written all over yours, as your walls pulsed and contracted around him with each thrust.
As you trembled beneath Mingyu, tears slipping from your eyes, he kissed your face gently, his lips tracing a path of comfort and reassurance. "I'm cumming for you," he murmured, his voice soothing and gentle as he tried to calm your racing heart.
But your chest rose and fell in erratic waves, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you closed your eyes tightly, desperate to hold on just a little longer. And then it happened, a silent moan escaping your lips as your body tensed and your pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave of sensation.
You came again, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. And as Mingyu watched in awe, unable to hold back his own release any longer, he let out a surprised moan of pleasure, his own orgasm crashing over him in a wave of ecstasy.
As Mingyu's warm cum filled your cunt, mingling with your own juices, you let out a contented sigh, feeling completely spent and satisfied. Your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat and cum.
Feeling utterly relaxed, you laid your head back on the couch, letting out a deep breath as you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. The tension in your neck melted away as you finally allowed yourself to relax.
"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he looked down at you.
You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
Mingyu leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours as he spoke. "That was... so good," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that before."
You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "Yeah, me neither," you admitted, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through your body.
You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "Who knew that silly wishbook would actually work?" you remarked, shaking your head in disbelief.
Mingyu leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Well, I'm here now, and I don't plan on going anywhere," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
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sanakiras · 4 months
Text
BLOOM FOR ME
PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader
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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
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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.
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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.
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“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?”
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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.”
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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.”
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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?
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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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babyleostuff · 20 days
Text
today was (not) a fairytale
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fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k
. . . mingyu forgets about your anniversary
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mingyu was a busy guy, that was obvious. but one thing he was never too busy for was you. it didn’t matter if it was just a can you couldn’t open, or a spider that had to be killed - mingyu was always there for you, no questions asked. to be honest, you could call him and tell him you wanted a hug, and he’d drop whatever he was doing just so he could trap you in a bear hug for the rest of the evening. that was how whipped he was. 
and now he was late. two hours. 
at first you thought something had happened - you texted some of the boys to ask if they knew where he was, you called his mom - you even checked the latest news, worried to see any updates about a car accident. 
nothing. 
sitting at an expensive restaurant full of people by yourself was humiliating enough, but what bothered you even more was that it was supposed to be your anniversary dinner. mingyu never missed any milestones of your relationship, he even bought you small gifts on the date you had your first kiss. 
then it hit you - his location. quickly pulling your phone out of your bag, you couldn’t believe your eyes.
he was at seungcheol’s place. 
not bothering to call your boyfriend - it wasn’t like he was answering any of your calls before, so why bother - you called the oldest boy, fiddling with your napkin that you wouldn’t be probably using tonight either way. 
“hey, is everything okay?” seungcheol asked immediately. it wasn’t often that you called him, especially at such a late hour, so he figured something must have happened. 
“is mingyu with you?” you heard some shuffling in the background, and noises that sounded a lot like your boyfriend and hoshi. 
“um, yeah. you want me to pass him the phone?” you could clearly hear seungcheol’s confusion in his voice, but you weren’t in the “shitting rainbows and unicorns” mood, so you didn’t even bother with hiding your annoyance. 
“fan-fucking-tastic.” 
you couldn’t believe he actually forgot about your anniversary. you had been planning this date for such a long time now. getting a reservation at this restaurant wasn’t easy, even mingyu had to pull a few strings and flash a couple of polite smiles, so you could come here on the exact day of your milestone. you prepared matching outfits for god’s sake. how could have he forgotten? 
“tell him not to come back home tonight,” you said, and hung up the phone before seungcheol could say anything. 
you spend the whole ride home trying to keep your tears from falling. you didn’t know what was worse - sitting in a restaurant for two hours waiting for someone who was over at his friend’s house drinking soju, or that the love of your life forgot about something so important. 
the second you got inside your apartment you practically ripped off the dress you were wearing, suddenly almost disgusted by the feel of it on your skin. your shoes joined soon after, and not even five minutes after getting back home you got changed into PJs (for once not being mingyu’s shirt), and poured yourself a glass of wine. 
“happy anniversary i quess.” 
when you were about to turn off all of the lights in the living room for the night, you heard the door open and close with much more force than needed. 
“baby? baby, where ar-,” he emerged from around the corner, stopping right in front of you. you took in his form - hair tousled from the wind, his shirt from practice still on, and shoes on his feet, which never happened - mingyu never wore shoes inside the house. huh, he must’ve been in a real hurry to get here. 
“i’m so sorry, i got here as quickly as possible,” he said, a little out of breath. you had to stop the urge to laugh in his face because what the hell? 
“too bad you didn’t bother to show up where you really were supposed to be, mingyu,” you snickered, anger radiating off of you. your boyfriend knew he was in deep shit the second seungcheol shot him a worried look, and how he would make it up to you, he had no idea. 
“i know, baby-,” 
“don’t call me that. you don’t deserve it mingyu,” you pointed a finger at his chest. just then he noticed you got your nails done to match the design on his tie, and he could swear he died a little bit at that moment. “do you have any idea how humiliated i felt sitting there like an idiot, waiting for my fucking boyfriend who decided to go out with his friends on our anniversary?” 
“i called your friends, your family. i thought you got into an accident for fucks sake,” your voice cracked at the end of the sentence, as you finally felt something else than just anger. the thought of losing mingyu wasn’t something you wanted to think about on your anniversary night. “i was so excited for this, and you knew it,” you took in a shaky inhale, once again feeling the tears brimming in your eyes.  
it took everything from you not to hug mingyu, he looked so… sad, and just so defeated, and that wasn’t something you were used to seeing on your boyfriend’s face. 
“there are a thousand excuses on my mind right now, but none of them will excuse my behaviour,” he sighed, his lower lip trembling. please don't cry, please don’t cry. “i forgot,” he said, straightening his back a little. “i simply forgot, and nothing i do will make up for it.” 
tears clouded your eyes, and you couldn’t help when they started falling down your cheeks, probably ruining the makeup you put so much effort into. if you knew you’d end up crying on your anniversary night you’d use a waterproof mascara. mingyu hesitantly raised his hand, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him, but when he saw you didn’t move an inch, he started wiping off the tears of your face with a gentle swipe of his thumb, almost as if you were about to fall apart. 
“say something. no, yell at me,” he said, and put your hand against his chest. “you can even hit me,” mingyu said, pleading in his eyes. “please, just do something.” 
“i don’t want to yell at you,” you sniffled, wiping off the rest of the tears yourself. “and i definitely don’t want to hit you. i just-,” you looked at him and only then noticed the dark circles under his eyes. did his face get slimmer too? “when was the last time you slept?”
he looked a bit taken aback by your question, considering he was begging you to hit him like a second ago. “to be honest, i don’t know, but i took some naps in the practice room. that’s not import-,”  
“when was the last time you ate?” you interrupted him again. 
his eyes softened because there was no way he just stood you up on one of the most important days of the year, and you were asking him about his well being. “i don't know.” 
i don’t know. hearing those words from a person who inhaled food like a vacuum, and could never say no to a snack broke your heart. how did you not notice how exhausted he was before? 
“oh, mingyu,” you said, tearing up again. “why didn’t you tell me, i would’ve brought you some food.” 
“i know, but i didn’t want to burden you. i knew i’d be fine,” he said, voice gentle. “besides, that’s not important now. let’s talk about how big of an asshole i am,” he grabbed your face in both of his hands, tilting it more upwards. 
“how can you say it’s not important?” you murmured, nuzzling your face further into his palm. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you without food for longer than an hour.” 
“hey, i don’t eat that much,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, and seeing mingyu’s face lit up at your, albeit quiet, laughter, you felt the anger leaving you for good.  
maybe you were too selfish? all you lived for for the past week was the date, but in the process you managed to somehow miss how exhausted your boyfriend was. yes, he did forget, but he was so overworked lately, you couldn’t really blame him, right? and it wasn’t like you were a saint either, you missed some dates in the past too. 
“whatever you’re thinking, drop it,” he said sternly. “don’t try to make any excuses for me. i forgot, okay? it’s all my fault.” 
technically you knew you had every right to be furious at him, hell - an hour you cursed him out with every curse word you knew, but maybe it wasn't the time to think straight, and just give the light of your life a second chance. “i don’t want to fight,” you said, wrapping your hands around his wrists. “and we still have,” you looked over at the clock, “two hours before midnight. we have the wine, and i think i have a pizza in the freezer.” 
mingyu shook his head in disbelief. “there’s no way you’re real.” leaning in, he placed a peck on your cheek, filling your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling. “you look beautiful by the way,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours. “i’m really sorry.” 
“i know, gyu. i know,” you whispered. “and mingyu?” 
“yeah?” 
“you can call me “baby” again.”
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom
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joonsytip · 10 days
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Only for Love || Mingyu [Teaser]
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Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au
Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?
Warnings: Reader is cold but also shy, Mingyu is gullible and impulsive, lack of communication, misunderstanding, miscommunication, reader is objectified once, hurt, crying, profanities, mentions of divorce, sexual intimacy, mentions of pregnancy, rest will be specified under the part when published
Dropping anyday, anytime.
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
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"Let's get divorced."
When Mingyu came home late at night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.
Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. If not for your next words, Mingyu would think he's hallucinating.
"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."
Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.
"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"
Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing it's third anniversary. Do you want to be tied in this marriage?"
Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words.
His gaze turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.
"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.
"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore, I want you to move out of our shared bedroom right now and shift to the guest room. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce."
As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.
"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear a string of questions falling out of his lips, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."
You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act, now that I know the truth."
Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.
"I'll sleep in the guest room.", Mingyu says in defeat, "And we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."
But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.
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→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.
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novalpha · 1 year
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𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠
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♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The other woman ♡୨୧♤⌗ -> @idyllic-ghost Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3
synopsis: you're married to wonwoo, but his parents desperately wants him to have a child - which you cannot have. he gives into his parents wishes and meets the other woman, whom he eventually agrees to marry as well. you're left heartbroken for a few years, seeing the man you love build a family that you had always wanted, but happiness is on the horizon as you meet someone new.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love and warmth ♡୨୧♤✹ -> @viastro
synopsis: in which you blackmail your employee, mingyu, to marry you in order not to get deported back to canada due to your expired visa. [based on the proposal]
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sugar and you ♡ -> @97-liners
synopsis: in which mingyu is an idealistic pastry chef, and you’re a cynical wedding planner who doesn’t believe in love.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Dry Humping ★ -> @undermoonlightst Part 1 , Part 2
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Parties, Yachts and Wishful thinking ★ -> @ithinkilikeit-reactions
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hot or cold ♡ -> @jjuniehao
synopsis: when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Honey boy ♡୨୧★ -> @chocosvt
synopsis: when you graduate high school, you realize you’re not really going to miss anyone, apart from a cute boy who doesn’t even remember your name. five years later, after accepting an offer to pass the summer at a friend’s lake house, he’s standing right in front of you. the universe doesn’t give second chances very often. you’re not going to let the honey boy slip away twice. 
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Puppy love ♡୨୧★ -> @smileysuh
synopsis: Mingyu is stuck in the puppy love phase, he can’t get enough of you, and can’t seem to grow out of it either- luckily, as your Black Lab Hybrid, he never needs to.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Lilac lace ♡୨୧★ -> @starlightxsvt
synopsis: without much options left on your hands, you become Mingyu's roommate. things take a wild turn after a few weeks.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ His smile ♡୨୧★ -> @angelwonie
Summary: falling in love with your fake boyfriend isn't a good idea, and it's even worse if that fake boyfriend happens to be Kim Mingyu. but you just can't help it — he's got the prettiest smile you've ever seen.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hallmark moment ♡୨୧★-> @onlymingyus Part 2
synopsis: The kids have been watching too many Christmas movies, and are now determined to have their very own magical moment with their parents.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Local lover boy ♡୨୧♤ -> @cheolism
summary: after you've had a long week of work, mingyu decides to help you wind down for the night.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Oh no, he's hot ★ -> @ncteez
Synopsis: The first time you drove your very trashed best friend home was because you had a crush on him. All the times you drove him home after that were because…well, his dad is sexy.
or the one where you have tension with your crush’s dad at four in the morning and maybe secretly fuck while said crush is asleep on the couch. 
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Spoiled ★ -> @wonusite Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4
summary: you have never been spoiled, but that changes after you meet the man your mother is going to marry.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Confidently lost ★ -> @gfcheol
summary: it's not easy to work your way through college, luckily for you, your babysitting job pays exceptionally well. and your boss is absolutely gorgeous.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Stay at home ♡୨୧★ -> @celestiababie
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ I can't run away ♡୨୧★ -> @gyukult
summary: everyone expresses love in different ways. that doesn’t exclude you.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ We don't usually hold hands ♡୨୧★ -> @gyukult
summary: when a friend brings up the potential feelings of a fuck buddy, you’re left wondering what to do when you confirm it’s true.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Stop kissing me please ♡★ -> @jejuboo-s
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Break the curse, break my heart ♡୨୧ -> @savventeen
summary: what's supposed to be a simple hex job turns into something much deadlier, and suddenly the two of you are fighting just to stay alive
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ One last time (for old time's sake) ୨୧♡ -> @tonicandjins Part 2
summary: you receive an invitation for the worst day of your life.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ A sheep in Wolf's clothing ♡★ -> @rubyreduji
summary: kim mingyu is the biggest player on campus, so why is he coming to you for sex help
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Drift away ♡୨୧★ -> @playmetheclassics
Summary: You made the biggest mistake of your life, and now, Mingyu is trying his hardest to forget and forgive you, but how long till your infidelity rips you both apart? Besides, it’s not like you’d blame him. You hurt him. You did the one thing you promised never to do.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ To the brim ♡★ -> @toruro
description. all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The secrets kept from roommates ♡★✹ -> @cheolism
summary: you are hiding a secret from mingyu. little do you know that he's hiding one from you too.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Trust (fall) ♡★ -> @toruro
description. your boyfriend insists he's strong enough to carry you and fuck you at the same time, but you have your doubts. of course, mingyu is more than ready to try and prove you wrong.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ — jealousy, jealousy ♡★ -> @monamipencil
synopsis; a trip to the convenience store with your boyfriend takes an unexpected turn.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ pretty like this ♡★ -> @madeforgyu
summary. you think mingyu's hands are pretty. he thinks you look pretty coming undone. (cw. very heavy ddlg themes)
[ More Mingyu fic recs will be updated ]
Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here
5K notes · View notes
bookyeom · 2 months
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pairing: mingyu x reader word count: 3k warnings: kissing, swearing, Mingyu being a simp
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Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. (Also, this fic in particular references the iconic 1987 film Some Kind of Wonderful, but I think I explained it well enough for someone who may not have seen it! However, if you haven’t seen it… Watch it. In my opinion, it tops all of those “must-see” movies like Sixteen Candles, etc. I adore this movie. The OG friends-to-lovers.)
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nothin’ on you by b.o.b., bruno mars
they might say hi and i might say hey but you shouldn’t worry about what they say ’cause they’ve got nothing on you, babe
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You groan as the doorbell rings, your eyes finding the time on your phone. You’d just settled in with your bunny pajamas and your rattiest, biggest, comfiest sweater, and you really don't want to move now. What you want is to disappear into the couch that you’d spent way too much money on, under your favourite blanket, and mindlessly scroll through social media videos of cats for hours while pretending you aren't perpetually single on the holiday of love. 
As much as you try to ignore it, the ringing only becomes more persistent, mixed with obnoxious, intermittent knocking. You groan again and stand up, making your way over to the door in annoyance. There are only a handful of people who would dare to be so irritating — Soonyoung if he wanted food, Chan if he wanted to show you a new dance routine, or… 
“Mingyu?”
“Hi,” he says brightly, and your brain short circuits. He looks as wonderful as always, black hoodie and sweats, eyes warm as he waits for you to reply like a normal human. 
You know that the right answer would be a greeting in response, but all you can think to say instead is, “It’s Valentine’s Day?” When Mingyu’s face falls a little bit, you hurry to explain yourself. “I mean… Do you not have plans?” 
Admittedly, that response isn’t much better, but you genuinely don't know the answer to your own question. You had just assumed that he did have plans — you hadn’t even considered the possibility of him being alone today, honestly. You hadn’t really wanted to think too much about it. It wasn’t like it’d be hard for funny, kind, Adonis-among-men Mingyu to find a date. All he had to do was smile at any man or woman in his general vicinity and they’d be under his spell. 
You know first hand what that feels like.
Your best friend showing up at your door on February 14th has replayed a thousand times in your brain. You’ve been head over heels in love with him for years now. The fantasy usually consists more of him in a tuxedo holding a huge bouquet of roses, proclaiming his love for you before kissing you passionately, but you can’t deny that you like this casual, tuxedo-less Mingyu just as much — if not more. He’s just… Mingyu. Soft and warm in that hoodie that you love, holding a box of your favourite pizza in one hand, a bag of who knows what else in the other.
“Do you not want me here?” He pouts, and you cave.
You sigh, but a smile makes its way to your face regardless. “Of course I do, Gyu. I just thought you had plans, that’s all.”
“I do,” he counters. “With you.”
You ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words, ignore the soft smile he sends your way when you move aside to let him in. “Alright, then… Let’s be single as hell on Valentine’s Day, together.” 
Mingyu beams, stepping past you and into the apartment. 
“Movie?” He suggests as he slips off his shoes and immediately makes his way to the kitchen with the pizza. You hear the sound of cupboards opening and closing as he makes his way around with ease, like he knows where everything is like the back of his hand. Because he does. Your heart stutters a bit in your chest at the reminder of how well he fits into your life, how well he knows your apartment.
He knows you pretty well, too, which is actually a big part of the reason you’re so surprised that he’d shown up today. 
Because anyone who knows you knows that you’re in love with Kim Mingyu. Even new people who spend just five minutes with the two of you can tell, and you’re basically a pro at dismissing the couple questions by now. It seems the entire world can tell you’re head over heels except for the man himself, and you really don’t understand how he seems to have absolutely no clue. If he did, you don’t think he’d be so cruel as to suggest spending Valentine’s Day together. 
And yet here he is, moving around your house like it’s his house, too.
He has no idea, you remind yourself. He��s just alone on Valentine’s Day, and he likes spending time with you. That’s all.
You busy yourself setting up in the living room, making room on your side table for the pizza and whatever else he’d brought. You catch sight of yourself in the reflection of the TV and grimace. Theoretically, you’re both dressed casually, so you shouldn’t feel underdressed for this impromptu hangout. But in reality, Mingyu looks better than everyone else all the time, no matter what he’s wearing. He reappears a few moments later looking every bit the part of an athleisure model with the pizza box, a bottle of wine, and a box of your favourite chocolates in hand.
“A heart-shaped box of Lindt?” You can’t help but blurt out. It isn’t unlike Mingyu to bring your favourite snacks to movie night, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and the chocolates are in a heart-shaped box.
“It was on sale,” he shrugs in response, settling down on the couch, and you want so badly to question the peculiar choice further. You don’t.
You hand him the remote, grabbing the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor at your abrupt departure from the couch while he puts a movie on. He seems to know exactly what he’s looking for, which is interesting considering he’s one of the most indecisive people you’ve ever met.
“What are we watching?” You ask. “Action? Thriller?”
Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, his other arm already outstretched for you to fall back against. You settle in next to him, pulling your knees up and draping the blanket over the both of you.
“I thought we could do something a bit different tonight,” he finally answers after a pause, and you look up at him in surprise. 
“Like what?”
He simply nods his chin towards the TV, where the opening scenes of the movie he’s chosen are beginning to play. You recognize the title immediately: Some Kind of Wonderful. 
Your heart leaps into your throat.
You’re not sure what to make of this. You’ve never seen the movie, but you know the premise of it: two best friends falling in love. This has to be a joke. You can’t help it as your entire body stiffens, and you tell yourself to relax. 
You can’t.
“Why?” You finally blurt out. Your chest feels tight. You don’t know if you’re reading far too much into it, but when have you ever watched a romance movie together? You’ve expressly made sure that you didn’t.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Mingyu replies. “Thought it would be nice.”
You’re looking at him again, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He finally acknowledges you with raised eyebrows of his own, meeting your eyes briefly before motioning to the TV with his chin.
“Can you just watch it? It’s a good movie, I promise. Give it a chance.”
You nod slowly, doing as he asks, but you can barely focus for the next hour. Everything has been so strange; the movie choice, the way he’d shown up with wine and chocolate — all of which could have been excused, maybe, if it wasn't for the fact that Mingyu is acting strange, too. He’s normally so pliant against you during movie nights, so clingy. But tonight, despite your closeness on the couch, all he does is rest his arm loosely around your shoulders. No fingers tracing your skin, no pulling you against his side, no getting distracted by your hair and attempting to make a shitty braid with it. No maneuvering his own body so that he’s the one with his head in your lap. It feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s waiting for something.
What in the world is going on?
It’s excruciating, but you try to focus. You’re almost there when the ending scene begins to play, but your whole body is still tense. You watch as the main characters, Keith and Watts, finally kiss in the middle of the street, and you think you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You swear Mingyu has tensed up beside you, but you don’t take your eyes off of the screen as Keith finally speaks his confession. 
“I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, well, you’re stupid,” comes the words from Watts, and you suddenly feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. This all feels a little too real. Why did he put this on? What the fuck is Mingyu playing at? 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” At Keith’s last words of dialogue from the screen, you feel Mingyu’s grip on your shoulder tighten. 
“You never asked,” Watts replies, teasing, and you can’t take it anymore. You turn to your best friend, eyes wide, and he slowly moves to turn off the TV.
The atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically, and you can’t look away from him, frozen. You can’t utter a single word. He’s picking at a piece of thread on his sweatpants, eyes downcast as he avoids your gaze. 
It hits you like a brick, the reason why he’s being so strange. It’s because he’s nervous. 
There’s no way. 
A million thoughts race through your mind, a million reasons why going down this road could be a bad idea. But you have to ask — you have to know.
“Why didn’t you have plans tonight, Gyu?”
He meets your eyes again, and you can barely breathe. His gaze holds firm, intense, as he says, “Because I wanted to have plans with you.”
“On Valentine’s Day?” The insinuation of your words is clear, and you know that Mingyu understands exactly what you’re asking.
His eyes remain steady on yours as he replies, easily, “Yes.”
So simple. Certain. Sure. 
You remind yourself to breathe, gathering all the courage that’s left in you to speak again. “‘Why didn’t you tell me?’”
You watch Mingyu’s face as you repeat the words from the movie, your voice trembling just the slightest bit. He’s really looking at you now, a soft smile on his face at your words, and your heart leaps into your throat. He’s stunning. He’s always stunning, but the way he’s looking at you right now has you feeling like you’re walking on air. His gaze is so warm, and you don’t want to look away from him ever again.
“‘You never asked.’”
“Neither did you.” Your words are your own now, and Mingyu nods, using the arm around your shoulders to pull you in against his chest. You flush as he draws you towards him, and you briefly wonder if you’re dreaming.
“You’re right.” He gazes down at you fondly, and your hand lifts tentatively to his jaw. He nuzzles into your fingers, turning to gently kiss your palm, and your eyes don’t leave his mouth. His free hand lifts to rest on top of yours, before he softly runs his fingers down your arm and up to your shoulder, your neck, your face.  
“‘I knew you were stupid’,” you quote cheekily from the movie script again. Mingyu’s lips break into a wide smile as he lets out a surprised laugh, canines on full display as he beams. 
Then he’s using his whole body to pull you into him, silencing your own giggles with a kiss. 
Your breath is caught in pleasant surprise, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. You’re impressed with how quickly you’re able to respond after your brain factory resets, the feeling of his lips on yours stunning you for only a moment before you react. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly and earning a pleased hum from him. His teeth gently sink into your lower lip in retaliation, and you can feel your entire body react to it. His hands find your hips, helping move you so that you’re in his lap. All you can feel is him as he pulls you in closer and closer, kissing you like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He finally breaks away to kiss along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, before moving to slowly press one final kiss at the base of your throat, and you can feel goosebumps spread across your skin at the featherlight touch. 
“I love you,” he whispers softly, and you lower your chin to meet his eyes. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s broken out at his words, and you feel a bit like you’re soaring as he continues, “I’m in love with you. I really am, and I need you to know that.” His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, his fingers gently massaging the skin there, and your forehead falls to his. 
“Mingyu…”
He hums, and you pull back to look at him, your fingers moving to softly trace every part of his face. You’ve long since committed him to memory, but one more time can’t hurt. He waits for a moment before he lets out a whine, burying his face into your collarbone.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
You let out a giggle. “Why?”
“Because I’m shy.”
You let out a snort, and Mingyu pulls away to pout up at you. Your fingers gently brush over his lips, his nose, his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to hide again, but he doesn’t.
“I love you too,” you say softly, and his pout is gone. “I have for a really long time now.”
He surges forward to press another kiss to your mouth, and you can’t help but gasp into it. You can tell he’s satisfied with himself as he smiles, pulling back just to say, “Guess we’re both stupid then, huh?” 
You laugh, and you can almost feel the happiness radiating off of him as his arms fold around your back, pulling you back in and resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, your head softly falling to rest atop his.
“Oh my god,” you hear him mumble after a few moments of silence. You hum in question, and he moves to look up at you again. “I’m so excited to date you,” he says, his face full of genuine joy. You can feel yourself flush crimson as he continues, “I’m going to date you so hard. You can’t stop me. I’m going to hold your hand all the damn time, you have no idea.” 
“I can’t fucking wait, boyfriend.”
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A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the fifth of our Thirteen Valentines just in time for the holiday/Carat Day! Who better to celebrate with than Kim Mingyu himself? Special shoutout and dedication to the best girl @tae-bebe, who fell victim to the Mingyu enemies-to-lovers trope irl :) xx
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’m sorry!)
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svt-x · 3 months
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From Italy, with love x (Teaser)
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pairing: Detective Mingyu x female reader
summary: Injured on the job and unable to work for 6 months, Mingyu embarks on a solo trip to Italy. He crosses paths with you once again, a familar face from his past he went on a few dates with. As it turns out, you’re also the owner of the dream holiday villa that he’s renting for the summer.
genre/warnings: second chances au (they’ve met briefly before), fluff, angst, smut
teaser warnings: shirtless mingyu wearing nothing but a towel lol, minor swearing
teaser wc: 467 
a/n: This is my first ever attempt at writing a fic, I’ve been having Mingyu brainrot since forever & was inspired to write this after seeing him in that police outfit. A special thanks to @wintaerbaer for helping me with this and being so supportive and encouraging🤍
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"AAAAAH! Why's it not working?"
He aggressively fiddles with the hot water valve of the shower in a futile attempt to rinse out the shampoo that continues to burn his eyes. When he realises that his efforts are ending in vain, Mingyu resorts to cold water, letting out a squeal as the icy droplets hit his chiseled body.
"Fuck, it's so cold."
With his eyes still tightly shut, he frantically runs his hands through his hair and over his body, trying to wash off the bubbles that remain. Soon after, he grabs the white towel he brought in with him and loosely wraps it around his hips. Walking out of the bathroom, he lets out a sigh as he enters the kitchen, opens the fridge, and chugs down the glass of fresh orange juice he left to chill earlier.
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This is not how you expected to be spending your afternoon off—letting your tenant know that they will be without hot water for the rest of the day. Joshua is currently out of town, leaving you to deliver the message. You would have rang or texted, but your laptop, which holds the tenant’s details, has been sent for repair. This would usually mean you need to go into the office, but the villa is closer to your apartment, so instead, you take this as an opportunity to meet your new tenant for the summer.
The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle breeze, carrying hints of rosemary and lavender, envelops you as you walk up the pathway to the villa. The door is slightly ajar, and you bring up your fist to knock.
“Hello, is anyone in? It’s y/n, the landlord. Can I come in?”
When you don’t hear a response, you apprehensively walk in and head towards the kitchen, calling out once more.
“Hello?”
As you turn the corner, you’re met with the most perfectly-sculpted, muscular back you’ve ever seen. The man, still unaware of your presence, places a drink back in the fridge and closes the door.
You stutter when you finally speak up.
“O..oh sorry! I didn’t mean to just-”
Mingyu turns around to see the owner of the voice, you, visibly blushing as he notices your eyes scanning his physique. The towel does a poor job of covering the veins that snake across his lower body, and his deeply-tanned skin glistens, highlighting his huge muscles that are hard to miss.
You finally look up, and time seems to slow down for a moment as your eyes meet; small but memorable fragments of the brief time you spent together flash before your eyes, and you quite literally can’t believe Kim Mingyu is stood in front of you, naked with water dripping down his body.
“Mingyu?”
“Y/N?”
667 notes · View notes
spamgyu · 4 months
Text
BACKBURNER // PART 2
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DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 1 | MASTERLIST
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She wished she could go back and listened to her friend when he had warned her starting something with him was a bad idea.
Y/n could remember that day so clearly — even more now that she spent a lot of her free time alone with her thoughts.
It was going so well, three months into dating Seungcheol and not a single red flag in sight. Things were looking up.
Maybe he wasn't the toxic man she had come to know of when they were in school.
It was all going so well.
He had invited her over to his place, wanting to cook her dinner.
"Wanted to do something cute." He explained. Y/n happily made her way over to his place, thinking that he was finally going to ask her the big question.
To be his girlfriend.
They spent most of the time giggling like high school lovers as they worked around each other in the kitchen; Seungcheol stealing kisses each time he caught her looking over at him.
Which was more than she could count on one hand — but she wasn't complaining.
They were nearly done. Just needed to plate their meal when the rug under her was pulled, sending her right back down to earth.
His phone hadn't even completed ringing when he picked it up, his demeanor instantly changing.
"Sunhee's flight came in a few hours early. Rain check on dinner?" He flashed her his dimply smile.
What was she supposed to do? Say no? Not with that smile.
Y/n agreed, allowing him to usher her out of his place; not without a kiss of course.
With an empty stomach and a freed up Friday night, she made her way to her favorite duo's place — in hopes that the two were not out terrorizing local single women at the club.
"He called off date night? For Sunhee?" Mingyu snorted as she picked off of his plate. "Can't you go and make yourself a plate? There's literally enough food for both of us."
She shook her head, grabbing another piece of chicken only for her to drop it as his hand lightly smacked hers. "She didn't have a ride."
God, could she be any more oblivious.
"Uber? Lyft?" He listed in bewilderment.
Y/n shrugged. "You'd do it for me."
She didn't care if he had a girl best friend. To most, this was a nightmare. It would have been the first big red flag to any other girl.
But Y/n knew she couldn't complain. Not when she was the first person Mingyu would call to tell her about the latest girl he was dating, the person he asked for outfit approvals, the person she called when she had any car problems. They were each other's person. Even if they bickered like their lives depended on it.
No, she couldn't be a hypocrite.
"Pick you up at the airport? During rush hour? You wish. I'd only do that for someone I love.... even then I'd reconsider it." He chewed.
"They're best friends." She defended, tapping her finger on the table to make a point.
"Who's in love with each other." Mingyu replied matter of factly, copying her actions.
As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"No they don't."
"May I remind you that last week he didn't make it to your little breakfast date because she didn't feel well. She." He emphasized. "You would have to be dying for me to cancel on someone I was dating."
Y/n had almost forgotten about the incident. She and Seungcheol had made plans to try out a new cafe by his place only for him to cancel at the very last minute.
She paid no mind to this, knowing that he and Sunhee were close and she had no family in the city to be at her aid.
Little did she know at the time was that Sunhee simply had a hangover and Seungcheol had gone over to nurse her back to health.
"It's been three months and not a single title has been established. He's a red flag, Y/n. Back out now before you get even more attached." Mingyu stood from his seat, walking over to the stove where the rest of his meal was cooling — scooping extra servings for him and y/n. "You want more rice?"
"No, just chicken." She shook her head. "He's just being a good friend."
"I give it another month before he makes you cry." He sat back down, this time placing the plate in-front of her.
He was right.
Within a month, Seungcheol began giving Y/n mixed signals — one minute he was telling her how he couldn't believe he had managed to score a chance with her and the next he was leaving her on delivered for hours on end.
Only for her to find out he had been pre-occupied with Sunhee through their instagram stories.
But see, Seungcheol had done it so slowly and Y/n didn't realize that she had been put on the backburner until it was too late.
She was far in too deep when she had come to realize that she would never measure up to the girl.
She had been attached, falling deeper and deeper as each day passed.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
"Are you done?" Mingyu whined from across the table.
She had taken and retaken the same picture of their meal for the past minute, unable to find the right angle.
"It doesn't look like a date!" Y/n groaned. "You know for someone who came up with this brilliant idea, you're shit at making it believable."
When he had told her he was going to be picking her up to get lunch, this was not what y/n had imagined. She thought he would have at least chosen a much cuter place that was worth pulling her phone out for.
But what would have expected from the Kim Mingyu.
She nearly strangled him as they pulled up to the usual spot they would gab a bite from. After much convincing, and the offer of a free meal on him, she exited the car and followed him into the establishment.
Picking up his chopsticks to pick at the meat that was beginning to brown on the grill, Mingyu let out a small chuckle. "He won't believe it if I took you to something fancy."
Y/n rolled her eyes, leaning back against her chair as she watched him stuff his face. "This is so romantic." She deadpanned.
"Fine, here." He sat up, placing an elbow on the table and a smirk on his face.
He was posing.
She had seen enough stories from girls he had dated to know it was his signature look.
"The fuck am I supposed to do with that."
"Just take the damn picture."
Picking up her phone with a sigh, she angled her phone just enough to capture their meal and him – cutting it off right where his neck began. It was discreet enough to get people wondering, but also obvious enough for him to know who she was with.
She didn't want to post his face just yet.
"Next date better be something good and not barbecue."
"Relax, we gotta do it slowly." He shoveled a spoonful of rice into his mouth, wincing at the sight of him talk while his cheeks were full of food. "Date here and there and then Hawaii– that's when we'll become so insufferable he'll want to kill me."
Hawaii.
In about two weeks, she and the whole gang were headed off to the tropics for one of their college friend's destination wedding.
Of course it would be a destination wedding. It was Jeonghan.
He couldn't just have picked a local venue.
It was going to be a week full festivities, the group wanting to take advantage of all the island had to offer before they watched their close friend walk down the aisle.
Might as well.
Everyone was going to be there. Including her.
"Speaking of," Mingyu continued. "Switch rooms with Minghao."
Looking up from her phone, she raised a brow at him.
"Do you even want to do this? Why are you so dumb?"
"Hey!"
Rubbing his face and groaning in frustration, he spoke slowly. "Minghao's rooming with me, meaning you will now room with me. Seungcheol will see. He will get jealous. Is your pea brain picking up on this?"
Jeonghan and his future wife had thankfully blocked off a floor at the hotel for those traveling for his big day, allowing all his friends to be within close proximity to each other.
She had initially booked a room all by herself after waiting weeks for Seungcheol to bring it up when they had all received their invites in the mail.
But he never did.
In fact, he had told her he was rooming with one of his high school friends who had not seen in a while.
She couldn't even bring herself to be disappointed, a part of her fully expecting he wasn't going to make the suggestion.
He had seen the disappointed look on her face that day, reassuring her that he may end up in her room every night anyways.
"Just want to hang out with Jihoon, haven't seen him in years." He reasoned, placing a kiss on her temple.
What a fucking liar.
"If we're going to do this, you have to be nicer to me.".
"Whatever you say, stink." He winked.
"Stink?" Y/n made a face.
"Short for stink bug."
It was a nickname he had given her in middle school, claiming that she looked a like a stink bug.... and smelled like one too. Y/n hated the nickname at the time, nearly crying each time he would call her this in front of the boys in their class.
It was better than baby.
"We'll work on pet names later." She laughed.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
Their fake dates have gained attention from everyone but him.
The rest of their friend group had managed to fall for their act after the second cryptic instagram story that the two shared at his apartment.
Unbeknownst to them, they had spent nearly half an hour getting the perfect shot on his couch to make it seem as though they were cuddling – all with the help of Minghao, of course.
"This isn't gong to work. You guys look so stiff." He laughed as he watched the two make a face as they intertwined their legs, pretending as though they were cuddling as they watched a movie. "Scoot closer, Mingyu."
"If I scoot any closer, my skin will merge into hers." He snapped, following directions.
"Oh my god, just do it." She cried, her arms growing numb with the multiple attempts of snapping the picture.
Seungkwan was the first one to swipe up on the story, instantly noticing the familiar console in the picture; replying "??????".
Soon her inbox was flooded with the rest of the group's reactions; even more when Mingyu posted his version of the same pose.
All except him, who didn't even bother watching the stories.
"Switch seats with me." Y/n whispered loudly to Minghao as they waited to board their plane.
"I already switched rooms, you want me to–"
"I'm sitting next to him."
They had booked their flight together; at the time when she hadn't been able to foresee the future.
Y/n was originally going to go through with sitting through the flight next to Seungcheol, wanting to get under his skin after spending the past two weeks and a half posting of nothing but about her and Mingyu. But considering he had yet to even see a single one of these post that was directed to him, and not a single text, she didn't think she could sit a four hour flight in silence.
Not while Sunhee sat to his right.
Taking the boarding pass from her hand and handing her his, Minghao let out a defeated sigh. "I feel like I'm doing as much work in this stupid shit as you two."
They had disclosed their plans to him, and only him. They knew if it had to be believable, they need someone on their side who was able to corroberate their stories – just in case someone had doubts.
"Love you!" She smiled, reaching over to pinch his cheeks.
"You better." He grumbled.
It wasn't long before they were called to board.
Y/n palms were sweating at the thought of walking past him as she would make her way a few rows back to her newly assigned seat; but she had to keep her composure. Just as she had while they were all sat at the gate – pretending she didn't care that Sunhee wasn't giggling a little too loud at whatever Seungcheol was saying.
Or the fact that he had pushed her carry on all the way from TSA to their designated waiting area while she happily walked alongside him.
She had to keep her head up high.
He had already been sitting in his seat when he caught her eyes from the line of passengers who were all patiently waiting to put their belongings in their overhead compartments.
She was two steps away when he stood from his seat, motioning Sunhee to do the same, to make room for y/n to squeeze in to her spot by the window.
"Thanks." Minghao smiled, shimmying past the two; paying no mind to the confused look on his friend's face.
With furrowed brows, Seungcheol followed her movement – up until Mingyu grabbed the rolling bag from her hand.
"I got it." He lifted the bag with ease, sparing no glance to the eyes that burned a hole in the back of his head.
Once she was no longer in his eyeline, y/n let out a breath of relief – buckling herself in.
"High five." Mingyu held his hand up, proud of her.
"Gyu please, not now." She shook her head, attempting to slow down the beat of her heart.
His head tilted to the side as he watched the girl's emotion's spiral from nervousness to a near panic attack.
"Cheol?" He asked.
"I wish." Her legs bounced as the last few passengers took their seats and the flight attendants made their rounds; her lips growing pale as each second passed.
Mingyu watched as she shifted in her seat for the third time since sitting, adjusting her belt tighter as she felt the plane slowly taxi on to the runway. "Still?" He asked in disbelief, eyeing her knuckles that had turned white from gripping the arm rest.
Y/n simply nodded, closing her eyes.
She had always been a nervous flyer, despite the countless times people have explained the physics of a plane. To y/n it didn't seem logical, how was it that a flying bus could easily travel from point a to point b? All with nothing but a fan for an engine and wings that didn't flap.
It didn't make sense. And don't even get her started with turbulances.
The low hum of the plane had began to grow into a loud roaring sound; she could practically feel her heart sinking deep into the pit of her stomach as she waited for it to gain speed.
Y/n's mind was instantly distracted when she felt his pinky slowly interlock with hers. She opened her eyes to look over at him, but his eyes was closed and fully locked in to whatever music that was blaring on his headphones.
Grateful for his attempts to comfort her, she relaxed under his touch – feeling his hand slip under hers to interlock hands once the plane was at full speed, giving it a squeeze when the plane reached the end of the runway.
It was only a matter of minutes before they were in the air, nervously watching the buildings grow smaller and smaller as the ascended past the clouds.
All thoughts of free falling began to plague her mind again.
"Stop that." He reached over to shut her window with his free hand, pointing to her personal tv. "Watch. Don't look out."
Time passed quickly all thanks to Mingyu's annoying voice that had kept her distracted, talking over the movie he had suggested for her to watch – pausing almost every five minutes to listen to him either comment on the scene or babble on and on about a random picture from his camera roll.
She had given up halfway through the movie, opting to sleep instead. But Mingyu wasn't letting up; he had thought if she sat in silence, she would manage to come up with all the worst case scenarios possible.
He would have much rather waste his breathe talking her ear off than have to comfort her while she sobbed in her seat.
He had been traumatized the last time their family took a trip together to Japan; the first time he had seen a different side of her. She had always been the braver one between the two, an adrenaline junkie who seeked thrill rides and any activity that would have him cowering in an instant.
They were fifteen at the time and since then, he swore he would rather eat dirt before he relieved that same moment again.
Just as he had comforted her during take off, Mingyu took her hand in his as they made their descend down – still babbling on and on about god knows what.
"See not bad." He grinned as they felt their plane come to a complete stop.
The humid air instantly engulfed them as they stepped out of the automatic doors of the airport, each making a comment about how glad they were that they chose to dress lightly.
The boys were all like children let loose in a candy shop, gawking over the Jeep Wranglers at the rental lot – Seokmin and Mingyu instantly bickering over who would get the last black two door.
"Boys." A voice next to her giggled.
It was Sunhee.
While the guys loudly made arrangements on who would be getting which vehicle and who would be riding with who, Sunhee and Y/n stood back and watched.
"They're... something." Y/n forced out a laugh.
The thing was, she couldn't bring herself to hate the girl.
As much as she hated that she was the reason for the pain that Seungcheol had put her through, y/n knew that Sunhee wasn't the problem.
In fact, Sunhee had attempted to distance herself from Seungcheol at one point when she had found out he was dating her; but of course, he didn't have any of it. Y/n was in the other room when he had called Sunhee, saying that he and y/n were just casually dating and didn't care feel at all threatened by Sunhee.
It wasn't a lie. But it sure did hurt.
"Stink!" Mingyu called out from black Jeep, motioning for her to head over. "Come on!"
He had won the rock, paper, scissors against Seokmin.
Fighting back the urge to send him the middle finger, Y/n smiled at him and turned to Sunhee. "I'll see you at the hotel."
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
"When'd you get that?"
Y/n turned away from her suitcase, halting her search for her white oversize linen button down, she followed his finger to the red fine line tattoo that read "lucky" at her hip.
Once they had all arrived at the hotel, the group wasted no time making plans to bound for the beach; agreeing to head up to their respective rooms to quickly change out of their airport loungewear to a much more appropriate attire.
Mingyu and Y/n have seen each other countless of times in their swimsuits, not bothering to bat an eye as they gathered all their belongings half naked.
"About four months ago." Y/n went back to practically tossing all her belongings on her bed.
Thankfully the room that they shared was a double queen, having it originally been Minghao and Mingyu's sleeping arrangement. She was able to make her own mess on her side without Mingyu's complaint about making the whole place look like a teenager's room.
He had been the clean one between the two.
"Nice." He nodded slipping a plain white shirt on. "Ready?"
"I can't find my shirt." She exhasperated.
"We're going down to the beach. Just go like that." He said, addressing her current outfit.
Which was just her swimwear and light washed cut off shorts that she had folded down to rest right at her hips. Something she had seen from pinterest when she was taking inspiration for her outfits for the trip.
"But I want to look cute." She pouted.
Aside from having to pretend like she was dating him, she still wanted to take document the trip and all her outfits.
She had an instagram feed to keep up, after all.
Rolling his eyes, he dug into his own suitcase – tossing her his crocheted short sleeve button down. "Come on, we're missing prime acting time." He clapped. "Need to annoyingly apply sunscreen on you and pretend to drag you into the water."
"Oh my god." She groaned.
When he said they were going to be insufferable, she didn't think he would jump right into it – dreading the fake laughs and giggles she would have to muster up the minute they stepped foot out of their room.
Grabbing her tote off the bed, Y/n put on her best smile and walked over to him. "Ready, bug?"
"Let the games begin, stink." He winked, slinging his arms over her shoulder – the two cracking up in an instant.
This was going to be a long week.
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
They're act was in full force.
Mingyu wasn't lying when he said he would apply suncreen on her once they reached the sand, annoyingly taking his time as he reached her lower back.
He was also not lying when he said he would pretend to drag her in the water, throwing her over his shoulder as he bounded for the shoreline, only to set her down once he was ankle deep.
"Is he looking?" He asked, keeping one arm around her waist.
Discreetly peering over his shoulder, thankful that he was nearly a foot taller than her, y/n nodded.
Seungcheol was sat on his towel, watching the two with the same look he had been giving when they were at Seokmin's.
"Okay, we'll I'm gonna go play." Mingyu satisfied with his short acting career, nodding over to Hansol and Chan who was calling out for him at the deep end. "You're good for a few minutes?"
"Yeah I'm going to nap." She nodded, heading back up to where the other half of the group was lounging – not before she felt him give her hip a squeeze.
"For plot." He winked.
"Gross."
"You and Mingyu, huh?" Jeonghan wiggled his brows as she took a seat next to him, pulling her sunglasses back down to cover her eyes.
Along with Seungcheol, Jeonghan had managed to catch a glimpse of the two shamelessly flirting by the water.
He had bought their oscar worthy performance.
"Yeah." She replied shyly. "It kind of just happened."
They had yet to come up with how it just happened.
"Surprised it didn't happen sooner. Glad you got over this guy over here." Using his thumb to point at Seungcheol who had been shamelessly listening in on their conversation. Just like everyone else in the group, Jeonghan had been filled in on y/n and Seungcheol's weird relationship – despite being cities away.
"He'll just play her." Seungcheol snorted. "It's Mingyu."
The first time she had heard him utter a word to her in weeks.
"Can't be as bad as what you put me through." Y/n replied without missing a beat, laying down to soak up the warm sun.
She fought back the smile that threatened to creep up on her lips, content that she had managed to get in his head.
The plan was working.
"Okay, kids, no fighting this week." Jeonghan laughed nervously.
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taglist:
@thepoopdokyeomtouched/ @scuzmunkie / @yunjin0 / @morkswatermelonnnn / @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan / @naturelvrgfstealer
(taglist open - lmk if you want to be added!)
503 notes · View notes
woozvc · 5 months
Text
better left unsaid.
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req (from 💩 anon) — "mingyu loosing his temper on you and it hurts like a bitch"
read pt.2 here - promises.
synopsis - "mingyu was the sweetest guy you knew, till he let his emotions get the best of him."
pairing — mingyu x gn!reader
genre/s — so much angst
cw— mention of a heated argument, screaming, reader flinches once, cursing.
w/c - 1k ish
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mingyu is the sweetest guy you know.
you've dated people, some good some bad but, none of them treated you how good mingyu did.
in the haze of the “perfect relationship” you seemed to have forgotten that people will always act as people. human emotions are stronger than we give it credit for.
arguments are never easy, specially with a loved one but they're easy to solve with proper reasoning. you hoped.
it started with a shitty day. you woke up and the power of the entire city was out so you got late to your work. mingyu also had the same start, but everyone was late to practice so it got ignored.
nothing major happened, just small things throughout the day.
you lost one of your files at work, mingyu forgot the choreography more than once. you dropped your coffee at work, mingyu got in an argument with his manager.
a shitty day.
a shitty day that leds to a shitty mood.
you got home first, wanting this day to end as soon as possible. you dropped your bag near the door and face planted at the couch, just wanting the comfort of your home. mingyu arrived 2hours later. he entered hurriedly, wanting to do the same thing as you.
mingyu was a clumsy man. he didn't see your bag, tripped and hit his knee hard on the marble floor.
it felt as though the entire apartment shook. you got up and ran to him but he held his knee, got up and walked away not acknowledging you. it hurt but you shurgged it off, not wanting to pay attention to it. you went to check what you both could have for dinner.
next thing that happened was all of his tshirts were in the wash, it was your turn to take them out.
mingyu felt his annoyance rising but he buried it down, put on a old tshirt and walked to the kitchen limping.
“you forgot the groceries” you said chuckling, trying to reduce the tension in the house.
it was supposed to be a joke. mingyu didn't take it as a joke.
the entire day's frustration broke down. he pointed out you not doing the laundry, you pointed out the power outage, he pointed out his busy schedule and etc etc etc
but never in your 3year relationship with mingyu did you expect a little thing to get this bad. unknowingly you were raising your voices slowly till the ball dropped.
“JUST FUCKING SHUT UP ONCE A WHILE”
mingyu screamed at you with an exaggerated hand gesture and you flinched. he did something that made you flinch.
mingyu said something he would regret for the rest of his life. you physically stepped back. mingyu was a tall man and him screaming at you made him a lot scarier. you just stared at him wide eyed.
seeing your reaction and realising his words, mingyu immediately shut up. he covered his mouth and put his hand out
“baby I didn't mean to-”
“stop.”
you stepped back. you looked at his eyes now threatening with tears and walked to your room, locking the door and for a second sinking down on the floor.
a few minutes passed when you stepped out, you saw mingyu sitting at the kitchen floor. his eyes we're red with tears, face swollen. he looked at you and said with a shaky voice
“w-where are yo-you going?”
“don't call me for a while”
and you left, walked to your best friends house. he watched you leave, watched you walk out the door of the apartment the both of you made a home.
mingyu was the sweetest guy you knew, till he let his emotions get the best of him.
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a/n - any complaints about angst will go to 💩 anon they fuled the angst writer in me (atleast both of you are alive in this fic! most of the characters from the stories I wrote in 2022 can't relate LMFAO)
702 notes · View notes
husbandhoshi · 3 months
Text
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TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)
pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort
this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)
and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.
i. strawberries (the summer we were young)
When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.
This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.
That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.
Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)
Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.
It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.
Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.
"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.
"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.
"We all know what happened to Persephone."
"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."
"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.
"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."
"Why?"
"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."
He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.
"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.
"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."
It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.
Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.
Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.
ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)
"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."
You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).
You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.
You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.
"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."
You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.
"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."
"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."
"Here?" you ask, incredulous.
"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."
He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.
"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."
"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."
"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."
"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"
"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."
"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."
"You do?"
"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."
"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"
"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."
"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."
"You want to go to law school, right?"
"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."
"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."
He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.
You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.
But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.
It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.
"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."
"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."
You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.
"Maybe."
It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.
All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.
The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.
iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)
Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.
"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.
"What do you mean."
He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.
Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).
"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."
"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"
"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"
You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.
"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."
He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.
The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.
He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.
But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)
Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.
"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.
Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.
This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?
"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.
"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."
Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.
"Kinda?"
The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.
"Yeah, kinda. Why?"
"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"
"Maybe. You still want to, right?"
You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.
Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.
"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.
"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"
Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.
Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.
You can handle a little pressure. You have to.
What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.
For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.
"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."
"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.
There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.
You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.
iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)
Mingyu's family loves Christmas.
You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)  
Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.
The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.
It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.
It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.
That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.
You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.
So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.
You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)
It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.
You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.
"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."
"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."
He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."
"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.
"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."
And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.
So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.
"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."
When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.
We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).
The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.
Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?
For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.
You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."
Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.
"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."
Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.
"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."
"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."
Clink.
"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."
"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."
"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.
"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."
Clink. Clink.
There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.
Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.
It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.
Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.
Clink.
Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.
"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.
There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.
Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.
"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."
But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.
Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.
v. wild barley (grows like weeds)
In March, you play house.
Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.
It's a kind, blinding charade.
(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)
(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)
It's good until it isn't.
That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.
(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.
It's a lie. You're a liar.
You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)
It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.
The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.
Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.
You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.
Your throat feels like crumpled paper.
Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.
///
The letters come one after another.
You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.
Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"
No, you don't. You never really do.
You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.
"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."
You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.
"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."
You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.
"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."
He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.
"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"
"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."
The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.
You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.
Going, going, gone.
///
Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.
You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.
You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.
Waitlisted.
It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.
Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?
No, but—
It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.
You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.
You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.
Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.
So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.
It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.
"Mingyu?"
"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."
The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.
You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.
"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."
"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."
No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.
You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.
"Mingyu, I swear—"
"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."
That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.
He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.
"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."
You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.
"Stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."
"I’m not, i just—"
"You just what? You can't help it?"
"No, I—"
"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"
There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.
"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"
Mingyu looks stung.
"W-why didn't you tell me?"
Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.
"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."
The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.
"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"
"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."
It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.
Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.
The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.
You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.
It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.
There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.
vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)
You broke up the next day.
Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.
"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.
Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.
Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.
"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"
"No, I just...need some time."
"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."
"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.
"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"
And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.
"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."
He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.
You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.
Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.
About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.
Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."
The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.
(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)
You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.
Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.
"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."
Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.
You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.
And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.
"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"
"I live here, silly."
"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."
You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.
"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."
"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."
"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"
"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."
"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."
Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.
Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.
"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.
"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."
A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.
"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.
"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."
"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."
The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.
"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."
"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."
For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.
"Promise."
The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.
327 notes · View notes
nnight-dances · 9 months
Text
LOVE & OTHER CLICHÉS
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PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (ft. kim mingyu)
GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive content
TROPES: brother's best friend, slow burn question mark, skirting around communication because that's a good plot point, jealousy as requested, banter, teasing, arbitrary social norms about words like "cute" and "sweet" pls don't listen to a word i say ever, etc.
WORD COUNT: 12k (for some reason)
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The first time you re-meet Jeon Wonwoo, your brother Joshua's best friend, you think a lot of things. He does, too. It's really interesting how neither of you say exactly what you think.
"Y/N! Is that really you?" 
If you hadn't been on the phone with Karina when you heard Wonwoo's voice, you think you might've genuinely passed away because his voice is something of nostalgic value to you, something distant and definitely not in the same living room as you. You look up and your eyes widen when you find the man gaping at you. "-Oh, hi–" you shoot up from your seat on the couch and then quickly remember your friend still on the line. You tell her, "Sorry, Rina, mind if I call you back later? Okay, thanks, love you. Night." 
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you like you'd said something amusing and it's turn to take him in as you drop your phone onto the couch. "Wonwoo, god, you're alive?" you start with a small smile and continue, "Wow, um, you look… the same." What you mean to say is: How did you get even taller, you attractive bastard?
Wonwoo offers you one of his smug smiles at that and replies, "Thanks? I think. You look much more… grown up, you know." He really should've said: Holy shit, you're pretty. And then he opens his arms, "Bring it in, kid. Let's see if I can still get away with tackling you to the ground."
You scoff even as you step closer to him, ignoring the way his arms are a lot bigger than they once used to be when you tell him, "I think you're remembering it wrong, dude. I was the one tackling you."
 It's no use, though, because when he wraps his arms around you, you sigh contentedly because this right here? This is a hug. Wonwoo's so warm around you and you can only pretend that the way you feel his hard muscles tense around you doesn't send chills up your spine. Wonwoo's smiling wide, only barely controlling a comment about how good you smell and how you might've grown taller but somehow still manage to fit just the same in his arms.
All in all, it's a pretty sweet reunion. You haven't seen each other in over five years so the curiosity and surprise is barely uncalled for. You only wished you could've held onto the hug longer before Joshua entered the room with a disgusted grimace on his face.
"Gross. Can you guys not do that?" 
You're the first to pull away with a flustered sigh at Joshua's comment, rolling your eyes. Wonwoo tries to cover up the way he's slightly out of breath by countering, "Why? You can't handle us interacting like two normal humans? Want us to claw at each other's eyeballs like the good old times?"
"I don't get it, though," Wonwoo tells you, a slice of donkatsu hovering near his mouth, "Why didn't you just move in with Shua?"
"That's what I've been asking her! Haven't I been a good enough brother to you? What did I do wrong? Huh?" 
You'd already seen Joshua's reaction coming, sipping the beer from your glass to brace yourself. "And as I've politely reminded you many times, big brother, it's not personal. I just thinking that would be the equivalent of moving back in with my parents. Plus, I can afford to live alone now, remember? The promotion that came with the reallocation?"
Joshua flashes you the unconvinced glare he always does when you reason with him. But you train your eyes on Wonwoo instead, determined to get him on your side at least. "It would be waste to just live with him and not do the independent thing. Plus, I literally live across from you, man, so I might as well be moving in with you."
Wonwoo nods quietly as he washes his bite down with some beer, "Hmm. That's fair enough. I don't know why Shua's been whining about it then."
You break into a pleased laugh at that where your brothers gasps in offense. "Hey, Jeon Wonwoo, whose side are you supposed to be on here?"
Wonwoo shrugs, "I'm on the side of logic, my man, I'm sorry."
"God, don't let her fool you. She says all this reasonable stuff but–"
"Oh, so you agree that it's reasonable then?" you question him with a raised brow but he ignores you as he spews his nonsense. 
"-- But the real reason she wants to live alone is so she can get laid."
You hit Joshua real hard in the arm at that, "Ew, dude, don't be a pervert." 
Wonwoo looks postively entertained between the two of you as he provokes you, "What does he mean?"
"Fuck if I know. I don't know what gave this guy the idea that I like to sleep around, if anything, he's the player."
Joshua narrows his eyes at you, "Uh-huh, me, the guy who was in a long-term relationship of nearly five years?"
"Emphasis on was in a relationship. How many people have you slept with since then? I don't want to know. I'm just making a point."
Wonwoo chuckles, "She's right, man. You're not exactly on the higher ground here."
"Okay, okay, but I did overhear you telling your friend that, quote, living with my brother would be the greatest clockbock there is, end quote."
Your jaw falls open when you hear him recount your words to Karina only a few hours ago. "You're eavesdropping on my calls? Wow, see, this is why I don't want to live with you."
"You weren't exactly very quiet! And you were sitting in the living room, too!"
"Whatever," you roll your eyes and then catch the questioning look Wonwoo sends your brother and you take matters in your own hands. "Fine, I said that because I mean, yeah, it's not like the hottest thing to be living with your brother, okay? Like what if I meet a cute guy and lose him to the fact that Shua's the biggest prude to exist?"
"Man, you just made a player, and now I'm a prude? Choose a story, goddamn it!" 
You shrug with a grin, "People can be two things, bro."
– 
"So, you all moved in yet?" Wonwoo asks you and you try to ignore how silly he looks with the edges of his glasses fogged up against the heat of the coffee in his hands. Last week, he'd texted you asking if you'd like to get coffee and catch up. You'd replied with a goofy grin playing on your lips at 1 AM with a: sure :))) if u pay!
You hum as you stir your own latte, "I think so. But everytime I think it's all done, there's always something small I forgot. Like, this morning I realized I don't have wine glasses."
He chortles, "Ah, I know what you mean. Something small but inconvenient. Like a good night lamp."
"Ugh, I need one of those, too. I brought my old one with me but ended up leaving it in the study because I didn't have one there." You sigh as you slump in your seat, "God, I hate moving. I'll have age twenty years by the time I'm fully done."
Wonwoo watches you with a bemused smile. "I can help you with shopping, if you'd like."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean, it's not like I moved in recently but I still remember some good places for this stuff. And it might be less tiresome if you have some company." 
Your replying smile is so genuine that it's got Wonwoo smiling and he thinks he's helping you out more for himself than Joshua. It's an unsettling thought for a moment but then your voice pipes back up with an anecdote from your work and he can't care for the thoughts. 
"...So, you have any luck finding cute guys to bring home?"
The question catches you off-guard and your grip on the wine glass you were inspecting loosens dangerously, but you hold onto it before it can break like your pretense of sanity. 
"God," you groan as you look at a chuckling Wonwoo who's standing next to you, arms crossed in that infuriatingly attractive way. "I was slightly drunk when I said that, so it would be nice if you forgot about it."
"Why? I mean, it's understandable you'd want to get into the dating pool here. It's one way to get to know a new city."
You turn all your attention to a different glass. "I guess. But I haven't had too much luck, no. Maybe waiting around to find love organically is my problem."
Wonwoo doesn't immediately respond to that, making you uneasy and sending heat to your ears. Whatever. You'd just have to scream into your pillow and cry yourself to sleep so you could forget this embarrassment. 
"Hmm, I don't know. It'll just take more time that way, I suppose. If you're willing to wait."
It's your turn to go mute except this time the silence is comfortable, only broken by a comment here and there about the glasses. 
"What about you?" you ask Wonwoo at checkout, watching the worker wrap up your chosen set of glasses in bubble wrap. "Are you… with someone?"
Wonwoo's lips twitch with a small smile at your question. "Not at the moment. I like the space of being single." You nod in understanding. 
"And I haven't really met anyone worth spending my time with," he says, eyes floating to you as he pushes his glasses up with a finger. 
You pause at his words, thanking the cashier for their help and making your way to the exit. "You make it sound like dating's a chore, Wonwoo."
He shrugs with a shoulder, "It can be. With the wrong person."
– 
"So… tell me all about your hot brother's hot best friend?" 
"Ew and ew, Karina, do you want me to block you for real this time?" 
"I'm just being honest but all right, do you want to talk about your years-old crush on your brother's best–"
"That's not any better. And I don't have crush on him. Also, it would really nice if we didn't say the word crush anymore. We're both adults with jobs."
"And adults with jobs aren't allowed to have a little fun?" Karina's voice is laced with laughter and you groan in frustration. Who has she been hanging out with to make her so much worse? Not you. 
"Anyway, since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. My older brother is okay. And so is Wonwoo. There."
A few minutes of further pestering from Karina and you finally let slip that Wonwoo and you have been hanging out here and there, sometimes over coffee that led to shopping dates (Karina's words, not yours) and other times spent over at Joshua's, drinking or playing video games on his couch. It was pretty cozy and you couldn't really complain about this new life.
"Oh, so you don't miss me then, huh? Nice to know. But also it seems like you're hitting it off with Wonwoo and before you cut me off, you did like Wonwoo for like half your childhood, remember? Maybe this could become something. Who knows?"
Oh, you remember. It was you who spent long summer afternoons staring at Wonwoo as he came over to your home after class, spending all his time arguing with Joshua about a card game they'd been playing or about which villain was cooler in the new movie they'd watched. For a while, it had been a distant thing but over time, you'd warmed up to them and started talking more to Wonwoo, now a regular participant in their arguments. 
And as it turns out, it doesn't take a lot of arguments to fall for Jeon Wonwoo.
– 
One thing about you is that you're stubborn. You like to think it's a genetic thing because the only person who could rival your firmness was none other than your brother. And this meant that when Karina tried to convince you that you still had a soft spot for Wonwoo, you tried to tell her that's all it was: a soft spot. Like a platonic affinity for someone you'd spent a lot of time with growing up.
And you reasoned it out with yourself that night, thinking back to the time you'd spent with him recently. It was familiar in the best way possible. Where meeting new people at work was absolutely exhausting, coming back home to your brother and Wonwoo was like a hug to your soul.
Speaking of hugs, your mind rolled over to the one you'd shared with Wonwoo a few weeks ago, an event that you often found yourself thinking. As sane and rational as you thought yourself to be, the way you'd find yourself unable to control a giggle in the dark every time you remembered the way you all but melted into his arms, strong but fond in their embrace around your waist. 
And when you come to your senses, you realize it's ridiculous how stuck up on that hug you are. It's stupid your smile that breaks through anyway and the way your heart beats faster when you remember the plans you'd made with Wonwoo for tomorrow, a trip to a local bookstore because he had found your collection of books lacking the day he'd come over for a visit.
You roll over in bed then, groaning a little because you're starting to think the soft spot might be… growing. 
"You know I really didn't think I would spend this much on books today," you mumble as you tap your card at the register. It was almost funny how many conversations you and Wonwoo have had at check-out, almost inevitable because often the shopping experience itself meant a lot of focused silence as the two of you browsed around in tandem. 
It was a weirdly heartwarming way to spend time together. Or maybe that was just you and your weakness for quality time. 
"What do you mean? We literally mutually decided that you needed a better collection." Wonwoo leans against the counter with a cocked brow.
"Well, the mutual part is up for discussion. It's more like you shamed me for keeping a modest book collection. And I mean, I wasn't so sure if I'd find anything good here."
"Really?" he asks, picking up the heavy bag from the counter before you can reach for it, "Because I remember you agreeing pretty quickly and enthusiastically to my proposition to go book-shopping."
"That was only because you made it sound like fun." And it meant that I'd get to spend more time with you. "And it was fun. So that's one thing you're right about."
Wonwoo's smile turns smug as you exit the bookstore, each with a paper bag in hand. You'd settled for carrying Wonwoo's own purchase of two new books that he'd apparently been meaning to come out and buy. 
"Anyway, now what? You wanna go to my place and break into one of these bad boys?" You shake the bag in your hand with a gleeful grin. But Wonwoo's looking at the mall across from you with mouth slightly ajar in concentration. And then he smiles, pure excitement plastered across his face when looks back at you.
"I have a much better idea." That's all he says before his unoccupied hand finds yours and tugs you after him. Admittedly, you're a little dizzy at the sudden touch and let him pull you across the road with quick steps, struggling to keep up with him. At the back of your head, you store away how attractive it is that Wonwoo's holding a good dozen books in a hand and yours in the other, racing ahead like it was the most important thing in the world. And honestly? If it was with Wonwoo, you think you feel the urgency in your veins as if it were travelling across your intertwined palms.
It's a good day to be a romantic for you, as you later find out, standing in line with Wonwoo to purchase tickets to a newly released movie. The genre? Rom-com.
"Well, it's not so much a rom-com as the poster makes it seem. That's actually a deft marketing stunt. It's actually a pretty serious movie about love and I've heard it's not for the weak."
So many questions. You have so many questions. 
For one, "I didn't know you were into romantic movies," you comment, watching Wonwoo from the corner of your eye, too afraid to look him in the eye now that your hand was no longer in his.
"It's possible to avoid romance. Everything is about love these days, even if it isn't."
You also can't believe that you're about to watch a movie with Wonwoo. It's all strangely… different. You'd never been to the movies alone with him. It's a new territory for you. But you're not mad. If anything, the smile on your lips is playful. 
"And it's not just that you're too scared to admit that you like rom-coms?"
"I'm not. Into rom-coms, I mean. The humor is straight-up bad and the romance is tolerable at best. It's like if you're going to do a x to death, you might as well do it well."
"I can't believe this," you mutter more to yourself than him, "Jeon Wonwoo watching a rom-com? This must be a dream."
"You dream about me, hmm?" 
You narrowly avoid whiplash when you turn to look at Wonwoo, his teasing only another addition to the list of things you didn't think you'd hear your brother's best friend every say to you. But the more you know, huh?
The movie itself is insane. The plot is devastating enough on its own but the way Wonwoo's shoulder pressed into yours the whole time, despite there being more than enough space between the two seats, has you more vulnerable than usual. So find yourself tearing up halfway through the movie and sit through the credits with half-contained sobs. And where Wonwoo had laughed at your tears mid-way, when he noticed your sobs, his hand found your back, rubbing it comfortingly. 
"That was horrific," you mumble when you're less overcome with sadness and pout at Wonwoo. "I hate you for making me watch that. I will never find happiness. And worse, I will never find love."
Your words, punctuated with that small pout of yours, has Wonwoo a breath away from falling to his knees with his head in hands because fuck, you're adorable. And truth be told, he was tearing up at the end, too, but he wouldn't let you know that because the way you accuse him for your state is just incredibly precious to him. 
"It was terrific," he corrects you, "And I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd get so emotional."
You glare at Wonwoo at that, as if you hadn't just been dabbing at your eyes with his pocket tissues, "Okay, Mister Emotionless, don't think I didn't catch you wiping tears away in the closing scene."
Wonwoo shoots a guilty grin and pats your head, "You're cute." 
The statement leaves you speechless enough that Wonwoo gets away with it, starting to walk away with a gaping you in his wake. You're deeply confused and slightly jittery when you finally catch up to him with a small "I wasn't trying to be" of affront under your breath. 
– 
"That's bad, right, isn't it? It's so bad. It's horrible."
"Calm down, Y/N, he called you cute, just so we're clear? Not a bunch of bad words right? So why is it bad?" 
"Because!" you cry out, "Because cute is like the most platonic adjective. I thought we were having a moment, what with a movie date and all– but if he thinks I'm cute then I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong." 
"Okay, I know what you mean but that's not always how things work. I mean, you said he held your hand and stuff, right? That's more than platonic. And it's all about the tone. Cute can be a very romantic word if in the right context."
"The context," you tell Karina with a sigh, "is that he's my brother's best friend! He couldn't make it any clearer. Wow, and I was all up in my head over him, too."
"Can we just take a moment to acknowledge how I told you that you still had feelings for Wonwoo?"
"We will do no such thing. Because the feelings are gone now!" 
"Right. I believe you, Y/N," Karina deadpans over the phone, "You can call me when you're done being an idiot. Bye."
– 
It's Karina's sarcastic tone that your thoughts catch onto the next few days, the ones you spend half in agony because Wonwoo hasn't contacted you and after your personal dilemma, you think you'd let someone shoot you before you texted him first. 
So you try your best to distract yourself with work, showing up earlier than you'd built a reputation for, and staying a little later than most. It's a new routine for you, one that leaves you pretty tired in a way that your bones are not used to. 
Maybe that's why your legs don't seem to be working that morning when you bump into someone on your way to the coffee machine. You'd been rubbing your neck, trying to feel out the knot that you'd woken up with, and had effectively lost track of where you were going and collided with a solid figure, sending a few steps back.
You sigh as you regain your balance, ever so thankful that you didn't fall flat on your butt as you look up at the person in front you. He's tall enough that you should've seen him coming so you're first to apologize. "Shit, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going. Sorry about that!"
"No, no, I should've been more careful. I'm lucky I wasn't carrying a coffee or that could've been really bad. I'm sorry." The man's voice is hoarse and he talks over himself, as if eager to get all his thoughts before he forgets what he's saying. 
You meet his eyes with a small smile, "I guess we're both at fault, huh?" 
He reciprocates your smile with crescent eyes. "Yup. Can I get you a coffee as reparation?" 
"I mean, it's not a big deal at all."
"I insist," the man levels his gaze at you and you wonder how he looks like he could throw you across the room without breaking a sweat, but still manages to be so soft. 
"I'm Mingyu, by the way," he tells you as he hands you a cup of warm coffee. "Thanks Mingyu. I'm Y/N."
"I've seen you around. You were a new hire, right?"
You take your time with a sip of your coffee before responding, "Yes, I was originally at another branch but my leader wanted me closer to headquarters before they opened up new branches in this city. I don't know, something exposure for me and experience for them."
"You must be good if they sent you here," Mingyu points out and you brush it off with a noncomittal shrug. You find yourself pleasantly enamoured by Mingyu for the next ten minutes or so and you wonder how you'd missed him at all in the first place. But when he tells you he better get going, you nod with a smile, "Of course. It was nice meeting you, Mingyu."
Mingyu becomes the perfect distraction, as one might predict he would. He has a unique charm, what with the contrast between his intimidating physique but surprisingly shy demeanour. He's the textbook golden retriever in people and though you're not a dog person, you find yourself grow fonder of him every time you run into him near the coffee machine or while leaving work in the elevator. 
"You have a work crush?"
You groan loudly, throwing a half-eaten cracker at Joshua. "Come on, what is it with all the people I know and having the most childish vocabulary?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not erudite enough for you? You know it may not seem like it but I am four years older than you and I have that much more–"
"Yeah, yeah, something about experience and knowledge, I've heard it before. And by the way, it's technically three years and three months, not that I'm counting."
"You very clearly are," Joshua points out with a frustrated laugh, "Anyway, you gonna make a move on this guy?"
"No, because if you were actually listening to me, you'd have heard that I like him as a friend and that I need help buying a gift for his birthday."
"Right, right," your brother mumbles in thought, "And that's next week?"
You nod as you pick your phone up, scrolling through the chat with Mingyu to reach the text he'd sent you a day ago: by the way, i'm throwing for my birthday on the 6th. love it if you came ;)
Winky emoji and slightly short notice aside, you'd replied as enthusiastically as you could muster: your birthday??? when were you going to tell me!! and: ofc i'll be there but not before i make you suffer for hiding smth so imp from me :(((
Before you can squeeze any more vaguely helpful tips from Joshua, his bell rings and you sit up with a frown as he stands up to get it. "Ah, Wonwoo's here."
"Wonwoo?" is your shocked gasp to that information, body going stiff because you'd seen him only in passing since the day of the movie. You think you might pass out. Why does nobody think it's important to tell you anything these days? 
You hear their voices in the corridor as Joshua lets Wonwoo in and your mind races with your options. Hiding in the bathroom for the night would be feasible if your brother wasn't a monster who would drag you out within thirty minutes. Maybe you climb out a window? But you were on the eight floor and as much as you liked to joke about death, you'd prefer to escape alive. 
Your brother's voice breaks you out of your scheming, alerting you they're in the living room. "Oh yeah, Y/N, here's someone with not childish vocabulary if you want to replace me." 
You look over your shoulder with a scowl but immediately lose your spirit when you lock eyes with Wonwoo, a lopsided smile greeting you. He's wearing a cozy sweater that's a shade of blue so dark that it might as well be black and you want to start crying because his hands are concealed beneath the sleeves, fists turned sweater paws as he stands there, looking between you and your brother. 
"Why are you two fighting this time?" 
"Nothing." "She has a crush at work." 
Wonwoo lets out a sigh when you both answer simultaneously but seems intrigued by Joshua's statement, eyeing him. "What did you say?"
"She has a–" 
"I'm warning you, if you say the word crush one more time, I will do something so unimaginable to your face at night–"
"She likes a guy from work."
Wonwoo looks surprised as he looks back at you inquisitively and you frown. "Untrue. It's just a guy I made friends with recently. And I only mentioned him so I could get advice but clearly, nobody here supports me so I'm going to take this conversation elsewhere."
"I support you." Wonwoo's quick response has you freezing in your dramatic exit and you turn to look at him in doubt but when his expression is clear of any mischief, you sit back down. 
"Nice to know. But I'd love it if we talked about something else for now. Like dinner." 
The night takes on a more comfortable journey from thereon, with the three of you ordering take-out and fighting it out with a card game while it was on its way. You were actually proud of yourself for acting normal around Wonwoo, despite all your past internal conflict. And you would've gone to sleep somewhat peacefully if he hadn't approached you in the kitchen, while Joshua was taking out trash, having lost the game. 
You were placing the leftovers in the fridge when Wonwoo materialized behind you, the only warning of his presence the question he asks you, "You want any help?" 
You barely hold in a surprised squeak as you spin around to him. "Goddamn it, Wonwoo, make some noise next time you sneak up on me?"
"Then I wouldn't be sneaking up on you, would I?"
You roll your eyes, closing the fridge behind you as you declare, "Well, I'm done here. Thanks for washing the dishes, by the way."
"Sure, I know how much you Hongs hate touching water. I was surprised you installed a faucet in your kitchen at all."
You give Wonwoo a push in response, "That's a very funny way to conceal the fact that you lost at rock paper scissors." 
"I just think it was an unfair way to decide tasks. I'm really bad at that game."
"Right, and assuming one can be good or bad at a game of rock paper scissors, what else would you have preferred to play?"
Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with an idea and then, he puts up a hand and wiggles it around in your face. "Arm wrestling."
Your smile falls, "No. That's just–"
"See," he points at you, "That's how I feel about rock paper scissors." 
Despite how much you claim that the two games are not at all on the same par, you let Wonwoo drag you to the kitchen table, standing across from you and arm ready for the wrestling. Slowly, you lean closer to him, hand coming to rest against his.
"Don't be too cocky," you mumble when his hand squeezes yours, already triumphant before the game had begun. The result of the game itself is pretty obvious but when you start to wrestle and feel Wonwoo's forearm tense against you, it has you light-headed. Your eyes leave the match to look at him, only to find him watching you with a glint in his eye. He smiles when you make eye-contact with him, going strangely silent for all his gloating a minute ago. You raise a brow at him and the bastard has the audacity to send a wink your way before pressing your arm against the wood of the table.
"Whatever," you tell him before his already obnoxious grin can swell any more. He opens his mouth and you're already anticipating something insulting to meet your eyes. But instead, Wonwoo says, "Your hand's so small." You look up at him only for him to take your hand in his and carefully line it against his own palm. 
You feel your cheeks burn. It's all so cliché, especially if he's flirting with you. Arm-wrestling turns into a hand-measuring contest. So trite. And yet, you find yourself smiling.
"See?" your hand wriggles, imitiating Wonwoo from earlier, "This game was rigged. Maybe if you had a handicap or something."
"Okay, I think I better leave before you take a knife and cut my hand up or something…"
– 
wonwoo: hello you
you: hi?
wonwoo: heard there's live music at the pub today. wanna come with?
you: ok creep
wonwoo: excuse me??? just informed you of a one in lifetime opportunity. shua's treating
you: WAIT he is???????
you: the one time i can't come?
wonwoo: you can't?
you: yes… have to attend a coworker's birthday party tonight. sorry :(
wonwoo: u should be sorry
wonwoo: imagine how much damage we could've done to joshua's wallet
You throw yourself into your sheets with a disappointed sigh, stomach uneasy at the thought of missing a hang-out with your favorite duo. But then you roll over to your side and think it's better if you go out with people who you didn't grow up with, for once. It might be a new experience. Just to be clear, this was Karina's voice resounding in your head. She had her way of giving you advice without you calling her for it. 
Three hours later, you're tiring yourself out at Mingyu's birthday party. It's intense, the party, bustling with people but then again, you'd be a fool to think Mingyu wouldn't have a roster full of friends to invite to a party. You meet the man of the night an hour into the party and he throws his hands around when he recognizes you. 
"Y/N, I'm so glad you could make it!"
"Of course. Happy birthday, Mingyu!" 
He leans over the bar and yells something at the bartender who eyes Mingyu and upon recognizing him as the birthday boy, places two shots in front of you. 
"Have a shot with me?" Mingyu grins, a slight layer of sweat shining on his forehead. You chuckle in defeat, "Sure, why not?" 
A shot turns into two and you're working on swallowing the third one when your phone buzzes in the back-pocket of your denim shorts. You're about to take a look at the caller ID and decline almost immediately but when you realize it's Wonwoo calling you, you pause. You excuse yourself from Mingyu's side quickly, making your way to a slightly quieter cornern of the party and answer.
"Wonwoo?" 
"Oh," comes Wonwoo's voice, a little distant, and he seems shocked as if he hadn't expected you to pick up. "Hey, Y/N. How are you?"
"Um. I'm fine, Wonwoo, just at that party I told you about. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. You're not too drunk, are you?" he asks, ironically slurring the question. 
"I should be asking you that question. Wonwoo, where's Joshua? Do you need me to come pick you up?"
"No," his voice is laced with disbelief, "I'm fine. Just a little tipsy. Sorry, you should get back to the party."
"Yeah," you reply, feeling a little uneasy as the liquid in your stomach sloshes around with each movement you make.
"Stay safe, Y/N. Call me if you need anything? I'm gonna go find Shua now."
Before you can ask him what he means by finding Joshua, Wonwoo's hung up on you, almost as quickly as he called you. Okay, so that was weird. And cool, now you're nauseous. 
– 
When Wonwoo drunk-calls you, he thinks he's officially lost you. If you didn't find him weird before, you probably thought him a lot weird now. That's great, he thinks. But the regret of his decision doesn't outweigh the need to see you right now, something about the fact that you're at some guy's birthday party making him all worked up. It should be obvious why he's like this but Wonwoo can avoid a serious thought for days if it keeps him slightly more sane than usual. 
But then the Joshua's bell rings and he opens the door, finding you standing there just like he'd imagined a few minutes ago. You're in a slouchy shirt that unbuttoned all the way to your mid-torso to reveal a black bikini top. He clears his throat to contain the thought that threatens to escape him: fuck, you look hot. 
"Shit," you exclaim when you see Wonwoo, "This isn't my place. Ugh. I'm stupid."
Wonwoo steps closer to you, "Are you okay, Y/N? Did you just get back?"
You nod silently and then take a step back from him. "Sorry, I'm just gonna go to the right place. You can sleep… or whatever."
"Wait, no," he rushes to your side, taking your elbow in his hand, "I'll help you."
You roll your eyes, "It's okay, I'm not drunk, Wonwoo. And by the looks of it, neither are you." But you don't push off the hand on you and simply let him follow you to your door, "Is Shua already asleep?"
"Hmm, he passed out. I don't know why he claims to be heavyweight when he can barely handle alcohol. I had force him to leave the pub before he made himself sick."
You listen intently, unlocking the door with a hum, "He's an idiot." You throw the door open and Wonwoo lets himself in after you. He's clearly not too sober because when you bend down to take of your shoes and your ass juts out dangerously close to his crotch, he almost falls over in an attempt to jump away to give you space. But he remains close just in case you stumble, his own shaky state be damned.
But you're unnervingly stable as you stand back up, taking your hand off the wall when you're done taking your shoes off and brushing them against yourself with a suspicious look thrown at him– unnerving because Wonwoo just wants an excuse to get his hands on you somehow. You're effortlessly magnetic, moving across the hall to your kitchen to pour yourself some water, still unebelievably stable, and Wonwoo follows you in a trance-like manner.
"You want something to drink?"
Your question hangs in complete silence and it's only when you look over at Wonwoo that he comprehends that you're asking him. He clears his throat again, "Um, I don't want to bother you if you want to go to bed." 
You raise a shoulder nonchalantly, "'M not sleepy. And you're here so we might as well hang." You disappear from his sight as you crouch down behind the counter, sliding open a shelf, "I have some shiraz I've been meaning to break open, if you're up for it?" 
"Oh, that sounds great actually," he replies and you reappear with two wine glasses in your hand. You beam at him and he feels a thrill down his spine, recognizing the set you'd bought with him. "Great. Go sit in the living room and I'll be right there." 
"No, I'll help you get the stuff."
You pause your movements toward the liquor shelf, "Come on, I thought it was clear I'm not drunk by now."
"I know," Wonwoo walks closer to you, picking up the glasses you'd set down earlier, "Just want to be here with you." 
You turn back around and Wonwoo doesn't know it's to hide the flush that colors your face at his confession. You spend a minute too long picking out the shiraz to recover and you're glad Wonwoo also doesn't know that you could pick the bottle of red out without actually looking. 
"Geez, I've got sand in my feet now," you complain as you take your first sip of the wine from your glass when you catch sight of the particles lodged in your toes. 
"Sand?" questions Wonwoo as he leans over to get a look. 
"Yeah, it was a beach-themed party," you tell him. He nods, thinking that your outfit makes a lot more sense now. "Mingyu's a silly guy for someone who's turning twenty-five."
"Mingyu, huh?" Wonwoo tries out the name, watching out for how you react. You don't give away much, simply taking another sip but your chest burns for reasons other than alcohol. 
"Hmm, yeah." 
"So do you like him? Joshua seems pretty convinced about it."
You hide your face against the couch, "Fuck Joshua. He's an idiot." 
"So you've said."
"No, but really. Mingyu's a sweet guy and all, but he's… not my type."
Now this is something Wonwoo can work with, relief flooding his veins at your honest reply. "What is your type?"
You meet Wonwoo's gaze for the first time in this conversation and groan again. In your head, you can't help but be burdened by how unbelievably cliché your situation is. Your brother's best friend sitting next to you swirling a glass of red wine, asking you about the guy you liked when it was clearly him you liked. In fact, you think your entire relationship with Wonwoo's always been full of clichés: falling for his charm as a youth and growing into the feelings long after, hanging out with him as grown-ups, going on dates that are left unlabelled, measuring hands with him for fuck's sake– It was a little too on the nose, you think. 
But you don't tell Wonwoo any of this, maybe because you're too scared to or maybe you'd liked to see the plot thicken a little. "I don't have a type." 
Wonwoo is surprisingly quick to leave the topic alone after that and you're thankful, but half-irked because you'd hoped for more. But you can't complain when he has you wrapped up in a completely different conversation, distracting enough that you can barely remember how you finished the wine in your glass. 
"Want a refill?" he asks you when the empty glasses have been sitting on the coffee table for long enough. 
"Mhm, I think I'll have some apple juice instead."
"As you wish." 
He doesn't even bother asking you where you keep your juice and takes off with the glasses to the kitchen. You watch him keenly, letting your heart lead your mind for a little as you take in how cozy the night is when you're in Wonwoo's company.
It's with that uncontrollable giddy smile on your face that Wonwoo catches you. 
"Happy about something?" he asks, placing a cup with golden liquid in front of you and keeping his glass of wine next to it. 
"Yeah. About everything. I'm happy."
Wonwoo smiles, arm reaching to your side and squeezing your hand in a way that leaves you thinking that you might actually like physical touch more than you've been led to think. "I like the sound of that."
Your smile only turns goofier. "What about you? Are you happy?" 
He huffs out a breathy laugh, "I'm not too bad myself. Things have been looking up recently."
Fucking fuck, even everything you say to each other sounds like it's been said before, somewhere else in an idealistic movie about two people slowly falling in love with each other. But you can't get yourself to hate the idea so you simply shift closer to him. 
Wonwoo notices, obviously, and smiles a little because he notices the light dusting of red on your cheeks. Your hair's come undone from what was presumably a low bun at the back of your head and he has an itch to brush the strands away from your face– a thought that if you were privy to would only be an addition the list titled reasons why wonwoo and you are a straight-up cliché.
But you find out soon anyway, because Wonwoo acts on the itch, hand coming to cup your face before a few fingers find the crown of your head, gently tucking the stray hair behind your ear. 
You hum in satisfaction and Wonwoo's heart hammers, thinking that is probably the best reaction he could've hoped for. He takes a sip of the wine in his hand and moves to rest his face on his fist. 
Except you intercept him mid-way, closing the space between you with a noise of surprise that Wonwoo lets out when he feels your warm lips against his. The shock causes the wine in his mouth to bleed into yours, just like you'd hoped, and before Wonwoo can act on your advance, you've already pulled back.
Your smile is warm with shyness when you notice the starstruck expression on Wonwoo's face. "Sorry, I wanted to taste the wine." 
Wonwoo's silent as he processes this, moving slower thanks to the wine in his sytsem and now– the feeling of your kiss on his mind. When he does break from the silence, he moves to take another sip of wine and this time it's him crossing over to you, big palm steadying your jaw so he can spill into you, literally and not. You let out a little noise this time, not expecting him to reciprocate your shameless move but delighted anyway as you move against his mouth. 
There's a third kiss. And you pull away with a dreamy sigh because really, this was straight out of your dreams. Wonwoo rests his head on his hand like he'd intended to about three kisses earlier and watches as you avert your gaze, suddenly bashful. You fix your gaze on the coffee table, proud that you'd finally chosen to place it opposite the couch instead of near the bookshelf. 
"I haven't dated anyone for a while, you know," Wonwoo suddenly blurts out, your hair once again in your face when you turn to face him. "I was in a pretty… fucked-up relationship after high school and that made me give up on love altogether."
You listen attentively, eyes on his as he tells about the person he was with, voice dropping to a soft octave. When he finishes you find his hands with a smile, "Thank you for telling me that. And I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than that. You're a pretty solid guy."
"Really?" Wonwoo's mood turns light again at your comment and you try to maintain your composure, reminding yourself that his smile might be casual but your words still hold weight. 
"Yeah, you're a rare find, Wonwoo. Quiet but not boring, witty yet funny, tall but nice to hug." 
You bite your lip at that last part, clearly giving yourself away. But Wonwoo's eyes light up anyway, "Nice to hug, huh? That's a new compliment. Glad to know." 
You can feel him lean closer to you without looking because his voice is closer to your ears. Flustered, you reach for your abandoned apple juice and take a sip, but overestimate your own sobriety because you manage to spill a third of it on yourself. "Fuck," you curse under your breath and throw your head back against the couch in frustration over yourself. 
"Fuck," Wonwoo echoes you, shifting beside you, "You okay? Wait here, I'll get you a towel." He's already standing up by the time you have it in you to find your footing. You stop him with a slightly damp hand on his arm.
"It's okay, I'll just go throw this in the laundry. Needed to change anyway." 
Wonwoo nods as he makes way so you can pad lightly to your room, ears adorably red. He lets out a heavy breath when you close the door behind you though, placing a hand against chest because the sight of your half-exposed chest slightly wet with juice– well, it was doing more things to him that he'd like. Your low expletive followed by your limp body hadn't helped his wild imagination either, instantly wondering what it might be like to run his hands through– 
"All right, that's it. I need some fresh air." Fresh air so he could feel less like a pervert and more like… normal. And it helps to step out onto your balcony, the scenery of the moonlit night a pleasant surprise to his senses. He hums happily, almost forgetting about his preoccupied thoughts entirely.
And then he hears your voice resound in the living room faintly. He calls out your name, telling you to come out to the balcony, and a minute later, you step out, now clad in a cozy night set, matching blue shirt with shorts. "Hey," you mumble as you join him near the railing, body visibly relaxing in the night air. "Woah, it's nice here."
"It is, isn't it?" 
"Yeah, this is actually my first time coming out here since I moved in. I always figured this place would be full of spider webs and like bird shit." 
Wonwoo chuckles, "I mean we're probably standing on something that's not supposed to be here but it's for us to worry about tomorrow." 
– 
When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a good amount of groaning and screaming to figure out if last night was real. Taking shots with Mingyu at his birthday bash? Understandable. Receiving a call from a self-proclaimed tipsy Wonwoo? Confusing but not impossible. Inviting Wonwoo over for wine and ending up making out with him? Insane. 
What's worse, you couldn't really remember how the night had ended, a consequence of your inebriated self combining with sleep deprivation. But that was a pretty important thing to remember, wasn't it? It could be difference between a regretful farewell and a promising one. You don't know which one would ease the storm in your stomach faster. 
You roll over to unlock your phone and sit up when you see you have two unread texts. And then, you see they're both from Mingyu. 
mingyu: thanks for coming last night :D
mingyu: sorry i couldn't see u out. hope you made it home safe! 
You sigh in barely contained disappointment as you throw your phone back into the sheets, looking up at the ceiling. You suppose you ought to do something about the Mingyu situation soon but right now, you find the idea of suffocating in your bedsheets for the next two hours much more comforting. 
– 
See now, this right here is your problem. As much as you complained about hating being a cliché, you kind of wish your situation with Wonwoo was more of a cliché because right now doesn't exactly feel like something out of a film.
It feels like hard cold reality. And it's not the first time either.
1: things will happen between you and Wonwoo: he holds your hand, he kisses your lips.
2: he doesn't text you about it and you're too much of a coward to force him out of his shell.
3: things end up all in the air. And now, you're miserable.
But later that evening, you find out there's more to this list of not-so-cliché things that happen between you and Wonwoo.
4: you run into Wonwoo at your brother's place.
He's so casual, too, dressed in a plaid shirt and lounging on Joshua's couch, gaming his time away. You almost immediately regretting making an impromptu trip to your brother's place but it's too late to back out because Joshua's already set the dinner table for three. How you despise your extroverted, loving brother. 
"Did you make that deadline you were complaining about yesterday?" Joshua asks you over a spoonful of his soup. You nod, "Yeah, turns out it was easier when I stopped whining about it."
Wonwoo lets out a laugh, earning him a look from you which you quickly retract, going back to your quiet self when the two engage in conversation. You're glad to ignore but they find it less than easy to, given how unusual your disengagement is. Wonwoo does have an idea for your mood but he doesn't feel like discussing it with your brother just yet. 
So when Joshua asks him, "Do you know what's up with her?" when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, Wonwoo stiffens. Why was he asking Wonwoo? … Had he been obvious?
"Dunno. Maybe work's busy or something."
"You think I should go pester her with some ice-cream later tonight?" 
 "Best if you don't do that. She might disown you."
"That's like legally impossible, Wonwoo. Right?" 
When you take an unexpectedly long time in the bathroom, Joshua goes on. "Did something happen between you two?"
Again, Wonwoo tenses up. "...No. Why do you ask?"
"I mean, she seemed fine yesterday when she came over. So I don't think I'm the problem here. Not that I'm accusing you of anything. Just… I know y'all have been bonding recently."
Wonwoo averts his gaze, deeply uncomfortable with this chat. "Um, yeah, I guess."
"Listen, man, I don't mean to take on the older brother tone in this conversation or anything but…" Joshua sighs as he plays with a leftover piece of bread, "You know I'm okay if something does happen with you and her, right? I trust you. And well, she was an adult long before me so I hardly have a say there."
Wonwoo stares at his half-empty glass of water, frowning. "Okay, cool." His answer is curt because he's still caught off-guard by this conversation. He'd wanted to bring up the developments between you himself, in his own way, but this left him a little panicked. Like, he was being rushed to make a move. And his brain ended up shutting down in the process.
…but it really wasn't the best time for his malfunction, given that you'd managed to overhear a good half of that conversation, specifically on the Joshua asking Wonwoo about you and him being indifferent about it. What was he thinking? What were you thinking?
5: you storm out of dinner without an explanation. you pretend you don't hear wonwoo call after you when you do. his texts that night go unanswered. 
How's that for a cliché, huh?
– 
These days, you're trying find the joy in small things. Like waking up to your very first alarm for the morning. Or brewing an especially aromatic coffee at home. 
Like making it to the end of a phone-call with Karina without talking about Wonwoo. 
"Oh, wait, before I forget to ask, how did it go with Wonwoo?"
Almost. 
You take a deep breath to steady yourself, "Not too well. I mean, we kissed. But then, he didn't text me for like three days after. Then I run into him at Joshua's and he acts all… cold. And judging by that one conversation I overheard, he thinks everything that happened between us was a mistake." 
"Okay, okay, hold your horses, friend, I feel like a lot happened there. You kissed? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?!" Karina sounds genuinely upset and you let out a groan.
"Well, I was trying to stop bringing up Wonwoo every time we catch up. It's annoying and I want to hear more about your life than complain about mine."
"We can both complain about our lives, Y/N. I have all the time in the world. At least till six. Anyway, that's besides the point! You kissed but he ghosted you afterward? And did he actually say he thought it was all a mistake?"
You bite your lip in rumination and then admit, "He didn't actually say that but it was implied. You would agree if you'd heard the same conversation as I!"
As it turns out, Karina doesn't seem to approve of the conclusion you've come to all on your own. But then you point out that it's been over a week and it's been radio silence. So you have every right to feel as hurt as you do. 
"I suppose you do. But still, it wouldn't hurt to approach him first." 
"I would rather die."
"Okay, well, maybe find out how he's doing from Joshua?"
"Will not."
"You're being difficult right now, Y/N. What do you want to do then?"
"I want to move on and not think about Wonwoo. Maybe I should go on a blind date or something."
"We're not in a movie right now, man, plus, I'm pretty sure you were the one who swore your life to finding love organically and whatnot."
"...Gah, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that. Fine, I'll do… something." 
Your words are nothing if not misleading because by something, you don't mean to communicate with Wonwoo like a sane person might. Instead you check up on Mingyu, who you've still been succesfully making small talk at work with, and ask him if he wanted to get dinner. The enthusiasm with which he responds is comforting, a relieving contrast from the tension in your relationship with you-know-who. 
mingyu: omg i woud love to
mingyu: but im unfortuntely busy tonight :((((
mingyu: would you be down for tomorrow? i can make some killer spaghetti if given the opportunity
you: make???? i was thinking of buying the food… but i won't turn that offer down
mingyu: i'm a man of many talents ;) 
You work out the details of the date (neither of you call it that, but it's understood to be one) over the night and you feel a little uneasy as the afternoon of the day comes to a close. Either way, you find a comfortable dress that is flattering against your skin and welcome Mingyu into your place, letting his excitement work its contagious magic. 
If you're following the plot line of this story closely, you'd figure out that the next cliché is this: Wonwoo behind the door across from your home, just now learning about this date of yours with Mingyu. 
He's broken his pledge to himself and asked Joshua about you, after having missed seeing you there for the past week. Joshua had hesitated to respond but is honest anyway, muttering, "I think she has a date over."
"A date?" is Wonwoo instantaneous question, barely-concealed dread underlying in its tone. 
"Yeah, remember that guy from work whose birthday she attended?" Joshua pretends to have forgotten his name but his best friend is quick to chime in, "Mingyu?"
But you'd told him he was just a friend. You'd called him sweet for fuck's sake, and that was the most platonic adjective you could use for a potential love interest. Well, he's been proven wrong by your date tonight.
He looks down at his clasped palms, the same ones that were intertwined with your skin, first the skin of your hands, then your cheek when he'd leaned into kiss you. And if he hadn't spent the last four days regretting every minute he didn't call you up, he sure did want to punch a hole in the fabric of time right about now. 
"You okay there, buddy?" 
Joshua's concern brings Wonwoo back to his body and he looks up, lips pursed and your brother thinks how ridiculous it is that both of you won't just talk it out. But he keeps that judgement to himself, choosing to sit back and watch his best friend pace it out. 
"Yeah, I'm fine. Fine. Really fine. I'm okay." He clears his throat, the first tell. "I'm just… um, a little hot. It's hot in here, huh." 
Joshua tames his bemused smile. "Is it? I just turned up the air-con though?"
"Oh, well, it's just me then. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, um, I love this video game."
"Wonwoo, we were in the middle of choosing a card game to play."
"Fuck. Okay, sorry, just give me a minute, I need to go call… my mother."
"No worries, my guy, give Mrs. Jeon my greetings!" 
Across the hall, you're busy watching over Mingyu as he makes his way around your kitchen. You say watching over because really, the man is so clumsy in his own feet, you wonder how he's lived this long. You have to make sure he doesn't cut a limb off every two seconds.
But then your phone buzzes urgently in your pocket and you pull it out, the light smile playing on your face falling when Wonwoo's name pops up on your screen. Now he texts you?
wonwoo: hey! you think we could talk?
You lock your screen almost as soon as you read the message because honestly, you don't have time to dwell over this man in your phone when there's a whole another person cooking you dinner in front of you. That's what ends up leaving a heartbroken Wonwoo, slumped on Joshua's couch as he barely zones into the movie that was playing on the screen. 
Joshua's had it with sitting around when Wonwoo stays unmoving throughout the ending credits– the man hates the credits for crying out loud!-- and instead decides to play cupid. It wasn't ideal, having to set up his sister with his best friend but well, any commoner could see how clearly you were meant to be with each other and he'd rather not have to listen to both sides' misery. 
It's okay timing, you've finished eating dinner with Mingyu, showering his food with compliments the whole time and flustering with your genuine shock at his abilities the whole night. He's helping you clean up with a cheeky grin on his face whenever he leans in a little too close to place a utensil back in its place and you let a smile overtake your face. But you can barely let yourself enjoy the date because if Wonwoo ill-timed text wasn't enough, you're done for when both him and Joshua show up at your door.
"What the fuck?" you ask your brother because you're positive you told him you had a date tonight and then you spot a spaced out Wonwoo next to him, and suddenly put two and two together. 
Wonwoo's eyes never leave your figure, taking in how beautiful the blue dress you were wearing was and how you'd put your hair up in a half-bun, a few strands framing your face prettily. He feels sick, first in a good way and then Mingyu pops up behind you, and now Wonwoo's sick in a bad way. The tall man looks so comfortable next to you, arm brushing against yours as he raises his eyebrows in confusion at the two intruders.
"Sorry, Gyu, these are…" you start to introduce them as they are and then, find a particularly provoking way to put it, "...my brothers."
Wonwoo might actually throw up right here and right now. Gyu? Brothers???
Joshua butts in quickly, "Well, technically, I'm Y/N's older brother, and this is Wonwoo, my friend."
"Ohhh," Mingyu nods in understanding, bowing when he realizes Joshua's your sibling, "Nice to meet you. I'm Mingyu and I work with Y/N."
Before you know it, Joshua works his charms on Mingyu and suddenly, date night for two turns into family night for four. You watch in dismay as your date spends a full hour talking to your brother about one thing and another, actually considering setting them up for a minute. And then, Mingyu glances at his watch and sighs, telling you he needs to take off. 
Joshua, devil incarnate, offers to walk Mingyu out and before you can protest, Mingyu accepts (????) and you watch helplessly as your brother leaves you alone with Wonwoo, narrowly missing the pointed look Joshua sends his best friend on his way out. 
The room now silent with them gone, you stand up with a wary sigh, patting down your dress. Wonwoo's watching and you know because the first words he says that evening are, "You look beautiful tonight."
You hate how the heat creeps up your neck immediately at his beck and call. But you keep from telling him off because even that would mean you caving in. 
But then he follows you to the kitchen, steps in tandem as you pretend to busy yourself with the dishes. The space between you is small though and you end up bumping into the man trying to reach for the fridge. He takes the chance and holds your wrist in his hand. "Hey," he breathes, "You won't even look at me?" 
"No, I've seen enough."
"I'm assuming that includes the text I sent you tonight. And the ones before that?"
God, you hate how good Wonwoo is at frustrating you. You snap, "Don't act like this is on me, Wonwoo. You're the one who pretends like nothing's happened between us." 
"Really? Because a lot's happened between us, Y/N. A lot of things that haven't happened with you and that Mingyu." 
You scoff, brushing his hand off your wrist. "That is so typical of you. Coming around because you're jealous? But you can't stand to tell my brother something happened between us? What is this, a game to you?"
Wonwoo freezes when he considers what you've said. "Did Shua say something to you?"
You cross your arms, "No. I overheard you telling him. I can't believe it though. I really thought we had something good going for us."
You break away from the arm that Wonwoo raises to keep you close and throw yourself onto your couch with an exasperated sniffle. This couch sure has seen a lot, you think wistfully, silently listening as Wonwoo's footsteps came closer. He's sitting next to you then, hesitant arm around you.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm really sorry. What you heard was… me being an idiot. I wasn't ready to talk about it with Shua so soon. I meant everything happened so fast. I hadn't exactly planned on falling for my best friend's sister, you know? Or kissing her in her apartment either. But it happened and I'm so glad it did. I was just slow at processing it. I'm sorry."
You groan. "It's not completely your fault, I guess. I just wish you would've talked to me about it. I felt so alone the whole time." 
Suddenly Wonwoo's moving up from next to you and dropping onto his knees so that you're now meeting his eyes. He looks concerned, mouth ajar as he takes your hands in his. "Are you with Mingyu?"
You let out a sound of disbelief, "No! I'm– I just called him over because I was mad at you! I thought you thought it was a mistake so I…"
"I don't. And I never did. I'm just scared. But I shouldn't have made that your problem. I love hanging out with you though and I especially love kissing you. It would be great if you'd let me take you out on a date instead, please?" 
And in that moment with Wonwoo on his knees in front of you, looking at you like you'd just told him he would live forever, you don't think you could do anything but say yes. 
– 
"You think we're a cliché?!" 
You flinch at Wonwoo's shocked question after you'd revealed to him the mental list of clichés that you embodied in your relationship with him. He's nearly seething when he finds out you're not joking. 
"Y/N, you know that's the meanest thing you could ever say to me? Am I really that bad a boyfriend?"
"Woo, my love, will you calm down?" you take one of his hands in yours, "I don't think clichés are as bad as you think they are. They're cliché for a reason! It's because they're meant to be done over and over again. They're tried and true."
"Tried and trite, more like."
"Come on, Woo, you can't act like you don't see it! From the very beginning!" 
He takes a lick at his gelato and you smile when you see him softening a little. You stop walking and stand in his way, barely concerned about the strangers littering the small ice-cream shop when you press a kiss to his lips. "I love you," you mumble against his ice-cold mouth. He shoots you a look that informs you that he knows what you're doing but he shoots back, " I love you, too."
"And love itself is cliché, don't you think?"
Wonwoo closes his eyes as if in physical pain while you uncontrollably laugh. "I knew I shouldn't have fallen for that! You're trying to make me cry in public, aren't you?"
"Aww, it's okay to cry, Woo, baby. Emotions are only natural–"
"I'm calling Shua and asking him to pick you up. I'm leaving."
"Okay, I went too far. Don't make me commute with my brother, I beg you."
– 
"Love, you ready to go?" you hear Wonwoo ask from the living room. You'd banished him to the couch after he'd made it his life mission to get in your way while you tried to get ready for your date. Well, double date actually. Karina was visiting you on break with her boyfriend, Taeyong, and she'd asked if you'd be down to get dinner with them. You had never agreed to dinner plans faster. 
"I am," you call back, just as you smear on lipstick, checking your teeth for any missed food particles for good measure. "Can I come in now?" 
You can see Wonwoo's silhouette at the door, gingerly watching you from the back for confirmation. You melt with a soft smile, beckoning him in, "Yes. Your exile's over."
Wonwoo celebrates with an exaggerated fist pump and you laugh at his antics when he skips over excitedly. "I'm a free man," he murmurs as his hands naturally slide down your arms to find your fingers. He twirls you around, admiring the black dress you broke out for the ocassion. "You look gorgeous," he says with a kiss to your cheeks.
"Are you quoting Taylor Swift at me?" you ask him with a giggle.
"Who's that?" he questions with a poorly feigned frown of confusion. You roll your eyes but open your arms invitingly, "Will you hug me?" 
Hugging had gradually become your favorite part of your skinship with Wonwoo, even more so than kissing, because the way he would shoot you a loving smile before wrapping his arms around and swallowing you into a world of cozy and comfort… yeah, you don't think anything could compare easily. Sometimes, he would hum happily, the vibrations would only soothing you into the embrace further and often your boyfriend had to peel you off him so you could actually get on with your day. 
Today, he lets you cling on longer than usual (he likes to say he's rationing his hugs. You tell him he's just a big tease), probably because he's busy relishing in being overwhelmed by your scent and the little kisses you sprinkle across his exposed neck. When he pulls away, you don't complain like normal, instead revealing the stars in your eyes to him. "You're warm. I love this sweater of yours." 
It was the same navy sweater that had you sweating over Wonwoo back when you were still going back and forth with your feelings for each other. He chuckles in amusement and then steps away without warning, earning a whine from you. But then he tugs the sweater off and your expressions turns playful. 
"Woo," you start warningly, "you know we're meeting them at the restaurant by nine–"
You're stopped mid-sentence when Wonwoo straightens out his garment and commands out, "Raise your arms for me, baby?"
But this is not his bedroom voice, no, no. This is his sappy voice and you already know what he's doing when he pulls the sweater over your head and down your torso. "It looks cute," Wonwoo comments by the time you have the sleeves pulled down properly. 
"You know I hate that word, Woo," you complain but he doesn't let you, pecking your forehead. You sigh in defeat and admire the sweater in the mirror, the fabric sitting surprisingly well against the skirt of your dress. You shrug, "I suppose I can work with this new outfit."
"If not, I can always just take it off for you–"
"Okay, we're leaving before you say another word!" 
Wonwoo laughs as he lets you pull him out after you, out the living room and into the hallway. He stands next to you, hands in his pocket while he waits for you to lock the door and glances at Joshua's door, wondering what his best friend was up to. You don't give a chance to do something about it though because your hands back on his arm in no time – and he swears you touch his arm for reasons beyond appropriate but you'd rather die than admit to it– and walk into the night. 
You meet Karina at a place called Love in the Air and Wonwoo's had listen to you go on, super smug, about how beautifully cliché the name and ambience of the restaurant is. Each dish has a romantic origin, like the shall I compare thee to a summer's day cocktail that Karina and Taeyong share, down to the lipstick-shaped bottles of wine served to your table. And as much as Wonwoo pretends to hate the cliché of love, he still orders the matching Valentine's soup as you just so you can watch his order come out in surprise. 
And as much as Wonwoo pretends he doesn't love the cliché of love, when you lean into his arm at the end of the night, already dozing off when he runs his fingers through your scalp, he can't help but let his heart soar with affection for you. And he thinks he would, after all, be in a cliché if it means to end up in your arms night after night. 
--
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
hiii oh my god why is this fic actually long!!! i wrote in like a day too so i'm just confused... it was 3k a minute and then 29 pages the other?? that's just wonwoo magic or smth i guess... this was requested and i hope the anon who asked for this enjoys it!!! writing it made a lil sick because of how sappy it is but ... it is what it is.
and consider this me admitting that i wouldn't mind having joshua be my brother... and that's just the flavor of parasocial relationship i'm dealing with these days lol
as always: lots of love to all friends and foes !!
2K notes · View notes
hoshifighting · 2 months
Note
hey I need cheol to fuck and breed me stupid for doing well on my exams :(
Hit the Books, Hit the Sheets
Synopsis: Where after weeks with your face buried inside of books on the brink of exhaustion, however, when the day of the exam arrives, your hard work pays off as you receive notice of an outstanding grade—an A+. Overwhelmed with pride and joy, Seungcheol decides to reward you for your dedication.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: Smut, mentions of body fluids, breeding, oral (f. receiving), praising, dirty talk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, g'spot stimulation and lots and lots of praising (again).
Seungcheol walked into the apartment, tired from a long day's work. As he entered the living room, he noticed the familiar sight of you buried in your books, your face obscured by the pages. Concern tugged at his heartstrings as he observed the weariness etched on your features, the faint dark circles under your eyes telling a silent tale of your relentless study sessions.
"Baby," he called softly, approaching you with cautious steps. "You should take some rest. You've been at it all day."
You glanced up briefly, offering him a tired smile before returning your attention to the book in front of you. "I will, Seungcheol. Just a little more to go through."
Seungcheol sighed, taking a seat beside you on the bed. "You've been saying that for days now. I'm worried about you, sweetheart. You need to take care of yourself too."
Your brows furrowed slightly in concentration as you flipped another page, your mind fully consumed by the wealth of knowledge before you. "I know, Seungcheol. But I have exams coming up, and I need to be prepared."
He reached out, gently placing a hand on yours to stop your relentless flipping of pages. "I understand that, but pushing yourself too hard isn't healthy. You need to find a balance."
You met his concerned gaze, feeling a pang of guilt tug at your heart. "I'll rest after I finish this chapter, I promise."
Seungcheol sighed once more, realizing that his words were falling on deaf ears, your mind too deeply immersed in your studies to truly register his concerns. With a heavy heart, he leaned back against the pillows, silently watching as you continued to pour over your books, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of your posture. He knew he couldn't force you to stop, but he hoped that eventually, you would realize the importance of taking care of yourself, even amidst the chaos of exams and deadlines.
s the days went by and Seungcheol noticed you becoming increasingly consumed by your studies, he took it upon himself to ensure you were taking care of your physical health as well. Despite your insistence on studying continuously, he made it a point to interrupt your sessions with nutritious snacks and meals.
He would gently tap you on the shoulder, interrupting your concentration momentarily as he placed a plate of fresh fruit or a homemade sandwich beside your books. "I brought you some snacks, sweetheart," he would say softly, a hint of concern in his voice.
You would offer him a grateful smile, pausing your reading momentarily to indulge in the nourishment he provided. Though your mind was still preoccupied with your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and appreciation for his thoughtfulness.
At dinner time, Seungcheol would coax you away from your desk, gently reminding you of the importance of taking a break and nourishing your body. He would prepare wholesome meals, ensuring that you ate enough to sustain your energy levels through the long hours of studying ahead.
As Seungcheol pulled up to the college campus, he turned to you with a reassuring smile. "You've got this, babe," he said, his voice filled with encouragement. "Just remember everything you've studied, and trust in yourself. I believe in you."
You nodded, feeling a surge of determination as you gripped his hand tightly. "Thank you, Seungcheol," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude. "I'll do my best."
With one last reassuring squeeze of your hand, Seungcheol watched as you stepped out of the car and made your way towards the college building. As you disappeared from view, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for the strength and resilience you displayed, even in the face of daunting challenges.
Once you were inside the campus, your phone began to buzz incessantly with messages from Seungcheol, each one filled with words of encouragement and love.
"Hey babe, you've got this! I believe in you!"
"Just a reminder that you're amazing and capable of anything, including acing this exam. I'm cheering for you all the way!"
"You're gonna ace that exam, my love! Make me proud!"
With each message that popped up on your screen, you felt a surge of confidence and determination. Seungcheol's unwavering support served as a constant source of motivation, driving you to give it your all during the exam.
You settle into your seat, the words of Seungcheol echoing in your mind like a comforting melody. With a determined click of your pen, you begin to write, each stroke of ink on paper fueled by his unwavering belief in you. As you tackle the exam questions with a newfound sense of confidence, memories of Seungcheol flash before your eyes, reminding you that you are capable of overcoming any challenge that comes your way.
Hours pass in a blur of concentration and determination, until finally, you complete the exam and hand it to your professor. It's almost ironic how quickly he corrects your paper, mere minutes compared to the weeks of intense study that preceded this moment. But as you sit in your seat once again, waiting for the final grade, you can't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you gave it your all, guided by the unwavering support of Seungcheol.
Heart pounding in your chest, you rise from your seat as your teacher calls your name to receive your exam. With trembling hands, you accept the paper, barely able to contain the anticipation bubbling within you. As your eyes scan the page, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the A+ adorned with a red circle, a silent testament to your hard work and dedication.
"Thank you," you manage to whisper to your teacher, a grateful smile gracing your lips as you swiftly exit the classroom. Once outside, you find a secluded spot and press your knuckles against your mouth to stifle a scream of joy, tears of relief and happiness pricking at the corners of your eyes.
With trembling fingers, you dial Seungcheol's number, the night's breeze swirling around you as you wait anxiously for him to pick up. Finally, his voice fills your ears, sweet and familiar, as he greets you with a warmth that washes over you like a comforting embrace.
"Hey, how did it go?" he asks eagerly, his excitement palpable even through the phone.
You take a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush as you share the news. "I got an A+, Seungcheol! I did it!"
On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Seungcheol's jubilant celebration, his joyous jumps echoing through the receiver. "That's amazing, sweetheart! I knew you could do it!"
He pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice filled with determination. "Don't move, okay? I'm coming to pick you up right now. We're going to celebrate at your favorite restaurant."
In a matter of minutes, Seungcheol's car pulls up in front of the college, and you can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you spot him stepping out of the driver's seat. His face lights up with a beaming smile as he rushes towards you, his arms outstretched for a big hug.
You meet him halfway, throwing yourself into his embrace as he lifts you off the ground in a tight squeeze. The warmth of his hug envelops you, filling you with a sense of comfort and joy as you revel in the moment.
"Congratulations, my love," he murmurs into your ear, his voice filled with pride and admiration. "I'm so proud of you."
As he sets you back down, he takes your hand and leads you towards the car, opening the door for you with a flourish. "Let's go celebrate," he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "But first, you need to eat well. You've earned it."
With a grateful smile, you climb into the car beside him.
After a celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant with Seungcheol, you return home feeling content and relaxed. The warmth of the hot water soothes your tired muscles as you sink into the bath, letting the steam envelop you in a cocoon of relaxation. With each passing minute, the stress of the day melts away, leaving you feeling lighter and more at ease.
Once you've finished your bath, you towel off and before climbing into bed beside Seungcheo, and you can't help but smile as you watch him play on his phone. But when he senses your presence, he quickly tosses the device aside and turns his attention to you, his lips finding their way to your face in a trail of soft kisses.
You giggle at his affectionate display, enjoying the gentle caress of his lips against your skin as he peppers kisses down your face, tracing a path along your jawline and down to your neck. His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but laugh at the ticklish sensation.
But as his kisses linger on your neck, you feel a sudden rush of sensitivity, a soft moan escaping your lips involuntarily. Seungcheol's eyes light up at the sound, a mischievous glint dancing in his gaze.
He chuckles softly, his lips trailing lower along your neck, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in their wake. "Since you've been so amazing today," he murmurs against your skin, "I think it's only fair that I give you a reward."
Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his touch ignite a fire within you, anticipation building with each passing second. "And what might that be?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
As he reaches your belly, he gently pushes up your jersey, granting him full access to your clothed pussy. Your body trembles with anticipation as his gaze locks with yours, his eyes filled with an intense hunger that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through you.
Without hesitation, Seungcheol lowers himself even further, his lips brushing against the fabric covering your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive area.
With a teasing grin, Seungcheol leans in closer, his tongue flicking out to trace a slow stripe along your clothed clit. You flinch, moving your hips impatiently to feel his tongue. 
As Seungcheol removes your panties and spreads your legs wide open, anticipation pulses through your veins, your body thrumming with desire. When his wet and hot tongue makes contact with your clit, you throw your head back, a moan escaping your lips.
"Mmm…" you moan, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the sensitivity of your clit heightened after days of intense studying, your body craving the release that only Seungcheol can provide.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on as his tongue flicks your clit with increasing speed. The pleasure builds and builds, each stroke of his tongue driving you closer to the edge.
"Ah! Oh god, Seungcheol," you cry out, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, your body teetering on the brink of release.
As you gasp for breath, you plead with him, your voice dripping with desperation. "I'm gonna cum, Seungcheol. Please, please!"
With a primal growl, Seungcheol redoubles his efforts, sucking your pussy with an intensity that leaves you trembling, you could listen to the sound he made while he slurped your cunt. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you past the point of no return as you finally cum in his tongue. 
"Oh, Seungcheol," you pant, your thighs tightening around his head as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. "You're... you're amazing. So good... so fucking good."
As Seungcheol continues to lavish attention on your sensitive pussy, your thighs instinctively tighten around his head, riding the waves of your orgasm with abandon. Each flick of his tongue sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, intensifying the sensations to dizzying heights.
But as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear, your body convulses with oversensitivity, the overwhelming sensation bordering on pain. With a shaky breath, you finally manage to choke out a plea.
"Seungcheol, please... stop," you whimper, your voice laced with need and desperation. 
Seungcheol pulls away reluctantly, his hands moving to grasp your boobs as he gazes down at you with a hungry glint in his eyes. You meet his gaze, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggle to regain your composure.
"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. "I could eat you out forever."
A blush creeps onto your cheeks at his words, but a surge of arousal floods through you at the praise. With a coy smile, you reach out to trace a finger along his jawline, the intimacy of the moment igniting a fire within you.
"You're amazing" you whisper, your voice husky with desire. 
His eyes darken with desire at your words, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I'll always make you feel good, baby" he murmurs against your lips. "You're mine, and I'll take care of you forever."
As your lips meld in a heated, passionate kiss, you feel Seungcheol's tongue eagerly seeking entrance, his lips sucking and teasing yours. With a soft whimper, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as desire courses through your veins.
Seungcheol breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gazes down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. "What do you want, babygirl?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.
You whimper softly, your body pulsing with need as you meet his gaze with a hunger of your own. "I need you," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you to fuck me, Seungcheol. I need you to make me yours." At this point, you were completely crazy for him, after all these days without his touch that you craved so much. 
A hungry grin spreads across Seungcheol's lips as he leans in closer, his hands moving to grip your hips possessively. "Oh, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with desire. "I'm going to please you all night long. You're mine, and I'm going to make you feel so fucking good."
With a needy moan, you arch your back, pressing your body closer to his as you feel the heat of his arousal pressing against you. "Yes!" you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Please, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's sweatpants fall to the floor, revealing his throbbing erection, wet and glistening with anticipation. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, your body trembling with need as you ache for him to fill you completely.
With a low groan, Seungcheol positions himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance, the anticipation sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to enter you, his massive cock stretching you to your limits as you gasp at the sensation.
As he inches deeper inside you, Seungcheol's voice fills the air, his words dripping with pride and admiration. "I'm so proud of you, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "You've worked so hard, and you deserve to be rewarded."
His words send a surge of warmth flooding through you, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who stands before you, ready to give you everything you desire. With each thrust, he praises your efforts, his words driving you wild with desire.
"I'm going to fuck you so good, baby," he growls, his voice filled with primal need. "I'm going to make you feel every inch of me, the way you deserve it."
With each thrust, Seungcheol's words of love and admiration fill the room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the wet slaps of your bodies coming together.
"I love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, as he drives himself deeper into you.
"You worked so hard," he praises, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment, as if he's trying to convey his love and appreciation through every thrust.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a soft caress against your skin, as he loses himself in the pleasure of being with you.
With every word, every declaration of love, Seungcheol's thrusts become more intense, more desperate, as if he's trying to pour all of his love and desire into you with each movement of his body.
"I love you!" he repeats, his voice a mantra of devotion as he continues to move inside you
As your cheeks flush with embarrassment, Seungcheol's gaze softens, his fingers gently caressing your hair with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. His cock continues to pound into your g-spot with precision, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body, leaving you unable to do anything but moan and whimper in ecstasy.
"You like that, baby?" he coos, his voice low and husky with desire. "You like the way my cock feels inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again?"
You can only nod in response, your words lost in a sea of pleasure as Seungcheol's relentless thrusts drive you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.
"That's it," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he continues to drive into you with unbridled passion. "Just let go, baby. Let me take care of you. I'll make you feel so good, I promise."
With each word, each caress, Seungcheol's cock pounds into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, your body writhing beneath him as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure he provides. 
"Oh, fuck," Seungcheol groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he feels your pussy spasming around him, the clenching sensation making him stutter in his movements. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet around my cock."
As you roll your eyes back in ecstasy, lost in the pleasure of his thrusts, Seungcheol's words become more desperate, more urgent.
"God, you're driving me crazy," he gasps, his hips thrusting faster and harder, unable to resist the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. "I can't hold back anymore, baby. I'm gonna cum so hard for you."
"Please, Seungcheol," you whimper, your voice dripping with desperation as you circle your clit, trying to milk him for all he's worth. "Cum for me, baby. I need to feel you come inside me."
Seungcheol's eyes squeeze shut tight, a curse slipping past his lips as he feels your pussy clenching around him harder, the sensation driving him to the brink of ecstasy.
"Cumming," he gasps, his voice a ragged whisper as he empties himself inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his release. 
As Seungcheol's hot cum fills your cunt, you can't help but moan in ecstasy at the sensation of his cock pushing the cum deeper and deeper inside you. The overwhelming pleasure sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, driving you to the brink of another orgasm.
"Fuck," you mumble, already overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. "Keep fucking your cum inside me, Seungcheol. I need it. I need all of you."
Seungcheol's moan is almost pained as he buries his face in your neck, his body trembling with desire at your words. "God, yes," he groans, his voice thick with need.
Seungcheol watches with satisfaction as he withdraws his cock from your pussy, his gaze lingering on the sight of his cum dripping from your wet and messy cunt. A sense of pride washes over him as he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, knowing that he's given you the release you so desperately needed after days of exhaustion.
Your relaxed demeanor is like a reward to him, a testament to his ability to bring you pleasure and satisfaction even in the midst of your busiest and most stressful times. He can't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that he's been able to fuck every last bit of tension out of you, leaving you looking and feeling more relaxed than you have in days.
"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity and adoration.
Seungcheol's eyes soften at your words, a tender smile spreading across his face as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "I love you too," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.
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wongyuuu · 8 months
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strange love | csc/kmg
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pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader x mingyu genre: angst, fluff word count: 3.1k summary: years after your divorce, you meet your ex and he wants to pick up where you left off warnings: cheating, cursing
requested by @thepoopdokyeomtouched
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“You regret it?”
Out of all the things you could have heard, of all the people you thought that you could see, the man standing in front of you was the last of them.
It had been years since you last Seungcheol, talked with him, or even heard his voice. You had managed to eliminate him from your mind completely as if he were some kind of plague. You really thought that you’d never see him again, especially after everything that happened. But most of all, not after you moved away to a city that hated more than life and promised to never, ever, set foot again. 
“You don’t know how much” he took a step towards you, hands stretched trying to hold yours “I don’t know why I did that… My mom, she …”
Looking anywhere was better than looking at Seungcheol, at him trying to shift the blame to someone else. The truth was that your marriage had never been easy — your entire relationship for that matter. 
Seungcheol’s mother never liked you. Hate was, probably, the most accurate word for how she felt about you. You were together for eight years, almost nine, and during those years she made sure that you were aware of her distaste for you. She would mention how improper you were on every possible occasion. From the way you dressed to the way you talked, to your major, to your job. Nothing you ever did was good enough for her.
In the early years of your relationship, she kept most of her comments to herself. And when she did say anything, Seungcheol was quick to apologize on her behalf and shut her down. Then, when she realized that your relationship didn’t end once you graduated from college, her words became harsher. 
Even then, you pushed through. Seungcheol seemed to be just as bothered as you and you were with him, not her. 
Despite her attempts against your relationship, there was no denial of the fact that you were in love and until that moment you never thought that anyone would ever understand you quite like Seungcheol did. It was like you complimented each other. Of course, like any other couple, you fought. But most of those fights were never about his mom and you’d make up quickly
Life was easy and good. You had the job you wanted, shared your life with the man you loved. 
So, when Seungcheol proposed, you said yes. It was the easiest answer you had ever given. His mother was no longer a concern to you and innocently you thought that she would finally see that you were serious about Seuncheol. You hoped that she would see your love for her son. Because to you, that was what every mother wanted, for their kid to be in a good relationship, with someone they loved and who loved them. That was what your mother wanted for you. 
And, sure, maybe that was something Seungcheol’s mother wanted too, she just didn’t want you in his life. 
Even so, you got married. Moved in together. The first year had been great, the kind of stuff dreams are made of. Paradise. Then your first anniversary rolled around and that perfect little bubble burst. Just like that. What was once perfect became none existent. 
Seungcheol started to get home later and later, his replies to your texts were monosyllabic at best — most days he didn’t even reply. You gave up on phone calls because he’d either ignore them or he’d turn off his phone. It didn’t take long for you to notice that he started to reject your kisses, your touch. 
Fights became intense, almost a screaming contest. You’d scream because he was never around anymore and he would scream because you were too demanding. 
“I'm just fucking busy, okay? Work is driving me insane. And now I have you hoovering around me like I’m sort of child. I thought my mom was the only crazy bitch around. I guess I was wrong.”
Nothing anyone had ever said to you hurt so much. His mother’s words? Nothing, not even a scratch compared to his. But having the man you loved, the one you promised to love through sickness and health, till death did you part, say those things? Call you a crazy bitch and because of what? Because you were worried about him? Someone should punish you for wanting to spend time with your husband. 
“Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol,” was all you had managed to get out. 
There was nothing else you could say. You heart dropped to your feet, the space where your stomach was supposed to be felt hollow. The entire world was spinning. So you did the only thing you could think of, locking yourself in the bathroom and crying under the shower. After some time, you didn’t know what was just water and what were your tears.
By the time you got out, Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. 
That was the moment you knew your marriage was over, there was nothing to save anymore. 
Seungcheol didn’t come home for days after that. You didn’t know where he was, if he was okay. So you did the one thing you feared the most, you called your mother-in-law. Much to your surprise, she invited you for lunch. Truthfully, you didn't want to go but it was the only way to know anything about your husband. She had refused to give you any information at all unless you met her. 
Everything inside of you, every cell in your body told you not to go. There’s no way the lunch wouldn’t end in your heart breaking even more. The million pieces of your heart would shatter yet again. 
Maybe you had known the entire time and just forced yourself to pretend that it didn't exist. Seeing Seungcheol walk into the restaurant, hand in hand with a woman who wasn't you, the brightest smile on his lips, made the entire world suddenly fall into silence.
You felt stuck in place, your eyes refused to look at anything else that wasn't him. Not in the way it did when you first started to date, when you were so enamored by him that other men just paled in comparison, but out of poor morbid curiosity. You needed to see just how far he'd take it.
The buzzing in your ears started when he sat by her side, his whole attention focused on her. She talked excitedly about something and Seungcheol looked at her like he was in love. Like he used to look at you. He pushed her hair back from her shoulder and you noticed that his wedding ring was nowhere to be seen.
The woman seemed to be the perfect representation of what his mother wanted. And her smile, watching you crumble, was all the confirmation you needed.
"Thank you for bringing me here today," you told her. Her smile faltered a little when you got up and left. She probably expected a scene, maybe she hoped to see you screaming at them. That would imply a fight and you just didn't have it in you anymore. 
You were the only one fighting for that marriage for almost a year. Seungcheol didn't care, of course, especially considering how he had taken that woman to your favorite restaurant on your second anniversary. 
By 9 pm, on that day, you were out of the apartment. You took almost nothing with you, just enough clothes, documents you would need, and memories of your childhood. You didn't want to keep anything that could be a reminder of Seungcheol. If it was so easy for him to throw away a nine-year relationship down the drain, then it would be for you too.
I'll send you the divorce papers soon, was what you wrote for him on a note. The only thing you had left for him, alongside your wedding ring.
"Don't blame your mother for your actions, Seungcheol. No one made you go to that restaurant, no one made you cheat on me. That was all you. Your mother, believe it or not, was kind enough to show me the truth"
Seungcheol thought that he'd never see you again. You had managed to completely leave his life, not a trace of you to be found. 
The house was still filled with you, your clothes, the decorations you bought over the years — things you had shown him excitedly and he had never paid much attention to — the dishes from breakfast, your wedding pictures still on display — the only one missing was of you, as a kid with your parents. He realized then that you only took things that were yours before him, things that had nothing to do with him.
No one wanted to tell him where you were, your note didn't say anything about where you went. The hospital you worked at simply told him that you resigned and refused to tell him anything else.
The divorce papers were handed to him, by your lawyer, precisely three weeks after your anniversary, after you left. Your friend stood in front of him, Joshua's face the most professional and serious he'd ever seen. The man who usually had kind eyes and a bright smile, looked at him as if he was just any other stranger.
"Joshua, I'm not singing these" he dropped the small stack of papers onto his desk "I want to speak with my wife and I'm sure you talk to her daily. So if you could just tell me where she is, I'd be really thankful. We also need to discuss how we will divide our possessions"
Joshua took a deep breath, finally looking at him for more than three seconds.
"Mr. Choi, my client doesn't want to see you or talk with you. There's nothing to divide as she doesn't want anything, as it is written in the divorce agreement. If you wish to take this to court you will just be spending money needlessly and wasting our time, as, like I said before, my client doesn't want anything. She just wants to be free of your relationship"
It was the first time in five years Seungcheol was seeing you. He tried to look for you everywhere he could possibly think about. He went to all the other hospitals in town, every single one of them, looking for you. He always gave different names to make sure that you wouldn’t refuse to see him. All of them were a dead end. 
No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t forget your last words to him fuck you, Choi Seungcheol, the look in your eyes of complete hurt. How he knew his words would make you cry and that’s why he said them. But you refused to let your tears fall in front of him. He had heard you in the shower. The sound had been too much, too annoying, so he left. 
At that point, he had already cheated on you more than once. He had let his mother get too much into his head. The stress of work mixed with his mother's constant nagging made him do things that he wouldn’t normally do. It was only much later that he realized that his stress didn’t come from you. If anything, you were the one who always helped feel normal, more like himself. 
After years of no contact, even social media updates from your friends or family didn’t include you, he finally saw you again. In a different town, a phone was pressed to your ear as you talked with someone. And you were even more beautiful than remembered. Your hair was shorter than before, something you always said you wanted to do but never went through with because Seungcheol liked your hair long. You were wearing jeans and a t-shirt, also something you never wore after college because of this mother, women don’t dress like teenagers, she used to say. Your smile was also beautiful, and free. Seungcheol couldn’t remember the last time you smiled at him.
“I know, it was all me. But I was wrong, yn, so terribly wrong” he tried to hold your hands again but you took another step back, away from him “I want to try again. I love you so much, so much. I can make you happy again, I know I can”
You laughed. Because what else were you supposed to do? Five years later nothing at all had changed with Seungcheol. He still thought that he could just come around and you’d be waiting for him.
Waiting for him to choose you. 
He never did though. You came to realize that, after you moved away, and really started to think about your relationship, from the day you started to date to the day your marriage ended you were never his priority. For many years you thought that Seungcheol had your back, that it was you and him against the world. But, in all honesty, it was just you against his world and the rules he lived by. He never told his mother to just stop the harassment, he would just appease her for a while and stay quiet when she tried to change you. He never said anything when you changed your entire being to try to fit into what she wanted. 
You were to blame too but in your mind those changes were just something you had to do to with the the man you loved. 
“Hi, baby” you felt lips press against your hair and the bags you were carrying being taken away from your hands “Did you wait for a long time?”
Finally, you pulled your eyes away from Seungcheol and looked up, to Mingyu. Up until that moment, your heart was beating like crazy inside your chest but at the sight of Mingyu, everything seemed to calm down.
A year after moving, you met Mingyu. He was the owner of a small restaurant close to the hospital you worked at. Joshua was the one to find the place when he went to visit you  You were one of his first clients and then probably the most assiduous one. You went there almost every friday for lunch, ordering something different every time because if the steak was that good, everything else has to be good too. 
After a few months, he was the one who brought out the food for you. You were yet to order but he placed a plate in front of you, the most delicious smell intoxicating all of your senses. 
“I haven’t ordered anything yet,” you said, confused, looking up at him. 
Mingyu was probably the most handsome man you had ever encountered in your life and that was saying a lot. His eyes were spectant as he talked with you, he hid his hand inside the pocket of his apron.
“I know but you come here every week and you seem to enjoy the food. Since I’m trying a new dish, I thought that you would like to try it”
Your lips formed a smile, the biggest one you had given someone in a very long time. 
“Thank you.  I’m sure it’s fantastic, especially if it tastes as amazing as it smells”
A few weeks after that, after a lot of flirting, Mingyu asked you on a date. A dinner after hours at the restaurant. You’re a busy woman, so I’ll take whichever moments you're willing to give me. 
Saying yes had been hard. Though you were no longer in love with Seungcheol, a part of you was still hurt by the end of your marriage. You were thirty, divorced, only one relationship in your entire life. You felt like you didn’t have anything to give. And then Mingyu happened. 
He made you forget everything about your past, about your lack of experience.  When you told him that you were divorced, you sort of expected a change in the way he saw you. But that didn’t happen. He simply asked how it ended, and you gave him a very brief explanation — he cheated — and the conversation moved forward as if he had asked you what you did the day before. 
The first date led to a second one, then a third, and soon you were dating. There was no official question or big gesture. Both of you just fell into this sort of routine. Some of your clothes were on his place, some of his on yours. A year and a half into the relationship you moved in together. You figured, since the two of you always spent the night together, either at his place or yours, living together would just be easier.
You were happy.
After you told him everything that had happened in your relationship with Seungcheol, from his mother to the cheating, Mingyu held your face in his hands. All of his emotions were in his eyes, the anger he felt for what had happened to you, for the hurt he heard in your voice whenever you spoke of your marriage, to the love he felt for you.
“I can’t promise that I won’t do anything that will hurt. If I could, I would do it right now. I know I will make mistakes and some of those will hurt you. But I will do everything in my power to not hurt you, to love you like you deserve to be loved”
His thumb wiped your tears away, and a second later you felt his lips over each of your eyes. His touch was ever so tender. Despite his hands being only on your face, you felt Mingyu everywhere.
“Where did you come from?” you had asked in a whisper.
“I was right here, just waiting for you”
Life with Mingyu, you came to understand, was very simple. Late-night talks, walks on the beach on sunny afternoons, meals you ate together, and undying laughter. Just a life completely filled with love. 
“Who’s this?” Mingyu asked. 
He didn’t like the way your back was stiff, how tense you looked. He had never seen a picture of your ex-husband, you didn’t have one and although he was curious about the man who was stupid enough to let you go, he didn’t care enough to look for his face online. Based on your reaction alone, Mingyu already knew who he was before you even said his name. 
“Seungcheol”
Mingyu looked at the man who broke your heart. There wasn’t anything special to see. The only thing Mingyu did to acknowledge him was a short nod and a distaste hum.
“Come one, let’s go home” he tugged on your hand, walking past Seungcheol.
Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling your body against his and kissing your hair once again. You wrapped your arm around his waist and squeezed him, a silent thank you, but also a silent i love you. He kissed your hair a third time.
Not once did you look back, to see if Seungcheol was still standing there. 
Seungcheol was your past. But Mingyu was your present and your future.
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babyleostuff · 8 months
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scary movie | kim mingyu
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author's note | this is so self indulgent, but i love scary movies and i know for a fact that Mingyu would hate me for making him watch them with me
“Did you have fun, baby?”
“No, I did not,” Mingyu whined, for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. 
One would assume that a 6 '2 man made out of pure muscle wouldn’t be afraid of anything, especially not a couple of bad jumpscares and eerie music, but your boyfriend seemed to be an exception. 
You knew very well what you were doing, persuading him to watch a scary movie with you. For the whole duration of the movie his head was hidden in the crook of your neck and his hands were holding onto your arms like his life depended on it. 
With every louder sound he’d flinch and whine, making you chuckle, because nothing is more adorable than your giant puppy of a boyfriend acting like a scared little child, because of some silly movie. 
“Like, what's so fun about being scared?” he wondered, still clutching onto your arm, despite the credits already rolling. 
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, mindlessly caressing the back of his neck. “But I like it.” 
“And it’s also an excuse for me to hold you for a couple of hours,” you added and laughed at the loud whine that he let out. 
“You do not need to hold me. I would be fine on my own,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. 
Both of you knew that it was a lie. 
He would never be able to watch anything remotely scary without jumping into your arms. His messy hair and the pout on his lips were a statement, that in fact, his soul would leave his body if you weren’t near him.
“Ah, of course,” you said. “Kim Mingyu never gets scared of anything.” 
He nodded, finally letting go of your arm and straightening his back for the first time since you began watching the movie. Did he try to look more confident because he wanted to look cool or just to comfort himself that he didn’t just act like a baby because of a scary movie? 
The answer was so obvious. 
As you turned to grab the remote, a loud bang came from the TV, a last jumpscare of the movie as the screen turned black. 
In a millisecond, Mingyu was clutching onto you again, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his head hidden in your lap. He let out a loud scream, which made you more scared than the whole movie itself. 
“You were saying?” you chuckled, gently pulling at the short strands of his hair. 
He mumbled something inaudible, knowing that there was no use in trying to explain himself. 
“You’re seriously the cutest human being on earth,” you could hear the loud protests coming from him, yet, he did nothing to untangle himself from your body. 
You turned the TV off, leaving only the side lamp to illuminate your living room. You shifted your position, so the both of you would be more comfortable and pulled Mingyu higher, so he could lay on your chest. 
He nuzzled his head further into you, resting his arms around your body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as best as you could and put one of your hands at the back of his head. 
“If the monsters come out at night, will you protect me?” he whispered. 
“I’ll always protect you.”
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lovingseventeen · 1 year
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can you do svt crying in front of you for the first time? (established relationship) 🥺
svt crying in front of you for the first time ✧˖*°࿐
a/n: the occasional mild angst, some are less serious than others. also sorry this took a bit, sometmes it's so easy to write for all 13 of them but other times i feel like i'm stretching ideas thin.. so i wanted to try to make this as good as i could .. i hope you enjoyed!
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seungcheol:
○ it was after an argument with the members
○ really, it was just something stupid that got blown out of proportion and everyone went home with a hot head. he didn’t say much when he got home to you and you could sense that something was off
○ you decided not to hover around him and just let him come to you and vent if he wanted to
○ up until he was on the couch and you saw him check his messages and angrily throw his phone. you flinched at the sound but you also softened when you saw him angrily wipe his eyes
○ “hey.. what’s wrong?” you asked softly, carefully placing a hand on his arm
○ he just sat down and you followed. soon after, he lays down to put his head in your lap, voice muffled by his hands covering his face. “just something stupid” he sighed
○ instinctively, you start running your fingers through his hair bc you know it soothes him. you don’t say much to him in these moments but you’re glad you can help him calm down when he’s so upset (10 mins later you realize he’s fallen asleep while you trace your fingers)
jeonghan:
○ it was after an argument between the two of you
○ words were thrown around and he was being far too nonchalant and somehow that made you even more irritated
○ " i don't even know about this anymore!" you spit out
○ you'd never looked at him like that either. it's like he unlocked this new level of disappointment and he wondered if he could come back from it
○ "is this it, then?" he said, voice still far too quiet for the emotions that were running rampant in the room
○ angry and hurt tears fell from his eyes but he wouldn't break eye contact with you
○ he didn't want this to end, and he really didn't want this image of you to be the lasting one in his mind if it did
○ you softened, looking away, "i don't want it to be"
○ a small wave of relief washed over him, he could still hold onto you. he walked over to you to gently hold your hand, one that was crossed over your chest
○ "i don't want it either." you let him pull you into him
○ "can we please restart this conversation? i'm sorry it got here" he whispers into your hair
○ you embrace him back "yeah, i'm sorry too"
joshua:
○ he's a bit of an empath
○ you were crying during a movie so in the end, so was he NYDSDHSJ
○ "darling.." he says softly, heart aching over the sight of tears running down your face
○ there wasn't much he could do but to let you cry it out and feel your emotions but he wasn't expecting himself to get so sad either
○ he just wraps an arm around you, running a soothing hand up and down your back
○ he tries to look back at the movie but every sniffle and hiccup from you makes him turn back to you
○ when you notice his eyes blotchy too, it almost makes you stop altogether
○ "you're crying too, josh?"
○ "can't really help it when you're crying, baby" he chuckles, as both of you dab each other's tear's away with your own sleeves
○ "we're being a little silly right now, huh?" you slightly laugh
○ he does his little signature eye crinkle with a little snort, "maybe we are"
jun:
○ it was when he sprained his ankle pretty badly dancing and he was told to take a rest for two weeks
○ inevitably, it felt like the world was turning without him and that he wouldn't be able to keep up when he returned
○ you caught him trying to watch over a dance practice and following along in your living room
○ all was alright up until he put too much weight on his injury and fell over, landing on his bum
○ "ah, shit" he cringed, getting up to drop himself on the couch
○ "aren't you supposed to be resting, hm?" you asked gently, sitting down next to him
○ he leaned forward, placing his head in his hands, "yeah" followed by a sniffle
○ "you know the rest will let you come back and dance even better, right?" you asked gently
○ " i know, but i just want to keep up"
○ "darling you'll be able to make it up easily, you're literally the best" you encouraged
○ "you're just saying that because i'm your boyfriend" he mumbled into his hands
○ "not just because of that" you assured, wrapping your arms around his middle, "but because you're just that amazing"
hoshi:
○ he didn’t want you to find out that he was an emotional drunk. but of course, this was also kind of inevitable
○ one of the boys had texted you asking if you could pick him up after they all had a bit to drink while filming
○ by the time you drove your car up to the hybe building entrance, hoshi was waiting with an arm slung around mingyu’s shoulders (mingyu had an arm around his waist). anyone passing by would think that they were dating
○ “thanks for coming by, y/n” mingyu says, half carrying hoshi into the passenger seat and buckling him in. “any time” you laughed
○ you drove for a little bit in silence as you assumed that hoshi fell asleep. but suddenly you heard your name called out in a small voice
○ “what is it bub?”
○ a deep inhale. “myungho said i wasn’t a tiger”
wonwoo:
○ he didn't cry often in general, so you never really saw it
○ both of you were surprised when it was when he first heard circles
○ "woozi sent this over to me and said it's what he's always wanted to say so i wonder what it is"
○ he places his phone down on the table as you both listen to it
○ you're watching him more than you're listening
○ wonwoo himself is caught off-guard when he finds himself trying to hold his face back from frowning
○ suddenly his breathing is a little heavier as he's trying to control this heavy lump in his throat
○ it's by the second chorus that the tears start falling and you only reach over to hold his hand
○ he can't stop the tears by now so all he can do is wipe them away with the end of his sweater
○ you both wait for the song to finish (you yourself had to hold back from watching your boyfriend cry) and just sit in silence a little after
○ "it was beautiful" you say
○ a chuckle. "yeah it really was"
woozi:
○ it happened rarely, but rarely doesn’t mean never 
○ he couldn’t come up with new ideas for his music 
○ you visited him at his studio, but little did you know it was his nth hour of replaying the same clips over and over to jog his brain 
○ “i brought you something~~” you announced as you closed the door behind you 
○ he was hunched over his laptop, barely acknowledging your presence 
○ you knew this was unusual, so you made your way towards him, setting the food you brought down on a table 
○ when you sat next to him, he turned his face away but you didn’t miss the deep and slightly broken inhale he took 
○ immediately you’re filled with worry. “what’s wrong?” you ask, reaching to give his knee a squeeze 
○ “i’m gonna ruin our next album i can’t come up with anything” 
○ “hey,” you said softly, “hey, you know that’s not true” 
○ he finally turned to you with a stray tear falling down. he didn’t say anything out of fear of just crying more 
○ “how about this,” you offer, “have you taken a break?” he shakes his head. 
○ “have you maybe asked some of the other guys for help?” yet another head shake. 
○ “have you left this room in the last 48 hours- not including the bathroom!” you clarified, this finally made him laugh. 
dokyeom:
○ it was during a movie (bless his heart) 
○ it wasn’t even a particularly sad one, it was actually quite the opposite 
○ something about a child reuniting with their parents after being lost for so long and it touched your heart too
○ though it surprised you to look at your boyfriend hurriedly wiping tears away from his eyes 
○ maybe you fell in love with him a little more, “you okay?” you asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek
○ he sniffled but smiled nonetheless, “yeah, ‘m just happy they found each other again” 
mingyu:
○ it was after a particularly grueling day of practice
○ his body couldn't seem to keep up with the complicated choreography and he was missing half of his marks
○ the other members were making jokes at his expense with no malice whatsoever, but little did they know they were hitting a little deeper that day
○ during one of their breaks he checked his phone
○ i'm in the area getting lunch, do you want me to drop off something? you texted
○ yes please, he replied, texting a simple order
○ when you arrived at the hybe building, he met you in one of the quieter spaces meant for employee lounging so he could talk to you for a few minutes, you did come all the way
○ "hi baby" he greeted, so so glad to see you
○ "hi gyu," you smiled, but something in your gut told you something was off, "you okay?"
○ for a moment you saw his smile falter, but he quickly tried to mask it again. "yeah i'm fine, the new dance is just kinda hard"
○ you didn't want to press too much further so you just reached up to cup his cheek, "i trust that you'll get it gyu, i really do"
○ he sees how genuinely you believe your words through your eyes and this is enough to make him smile but not enough to let him fully hold back a tear
○ you wipe it away and he leans into your touch
minghao:
○ you were partaking in a little tea ceremony with him
○ maybe there was something in the air that day, the weather was beautiful, warm, but not enough to make you sweat, a simple breeze passing through
○ he snuck a peak at you sitting across from him while you were meditating
○ he was hit with a sudden sense of fulfillment
○ there you were, putting your utmost focus into something he cared about and he just felt so happy
○ your face looked so relaxed as the gentle sunshine made your skin look like it was glowing
○ since the two of you think alike, you snuck a peek at him too and caught him wiping a tear away
○ "are you okay, hao?"
○ "just happy" he smiled
seungkwan:
○ it was after one of their tours and seungkwan had been away for 3 months
○ you had started dating a month before the tour even started so he was concerned that he was leaving you too soon
○ would you still like him when he came back? what if your met someone who you could be with more often?
○ so on his day back, his stomach was flipping in excitement and in anxiety. he missed you so much, but what if you realized you didn’t miss him?
○ while he unlocks your apartment, he takes a deep breath, preparing himself to accept whatever comes
○ when he opens the door he sees you (with a biggest smile on your face) with a small cake in your hands that says “welcome home my boo!”
○ there’s also some balloons decorating your living room and he just can’t believe you did all of this
○ “y/n” is all he can say, unsure of what he could to convey how much his heart was swelling
○ “welcome home, baby” you smiled, placing the cake down to make your way to him
○ his arms opened up to you like second nature, quick to wrap around your middle to pull you close to him
vernon:
○ dang it's really hard to come up with a scenario where vernon might cry
○ either it has to be a genuinely tragic moment or something kind of random (like him)
○ maybe he was trying to cook or something and rubbed a pepper in his eye because he forgot he held it with his bare hands
○ "babe i need help" you hear from the kitchen
○ there you see your precious boyfriend with his eyes squinted and a little red, not knowing what to do with his hands
○ "what happened?"
○ "rubbed the pepper into my eye.."
○ "ah" you nod, quickly wetting a paper towel to dab at his eyes that are watering
○ pls his hands are still out as he tries not to touch anything else so he looks a little silly
○ "you're trying not to laugh aren't you" he mutters, barely able to open his eyes
○ "no" you deadpan
○ "you can't be mean like this, y/n" he pouts and frowns. if you didn't have the context of the pepper you'd really think you hurt his feelings
○ (lowkey curse him for looking kinda good even if he's crying)
○ "uh huh, poor you" you scoff, making sure to wipe his hands too
dino:
○ cried because drunk you wouldn't get into the damn car (funny how karma hit him after doing the same exact thing to jeonghang)
○ "but i wanna party some more!" you whined, barely able to stand up by yourself
○ he's struggling to carry you as you randomly drop your weight
○ he doesn't know if the tears coming from his eyes are from laughing at your state or genuine frustration that this is so hard
○ the two of you end up plopping on the pavement next to your car as your legs have magically decided to stop working
○ "baby please, my love, my darling, the love of my life, get into the car" he practically begs
○ "but i barely got to drink!"
○ "but you've drank too much!" he half-argues, he finds himself almost losing it because why is he arguing with a drunk person?
○ "honey, please" he even goes to the extent of clasping his hands together, "let's go home"
○ suddenly drunk you decides to bargain
○ "will you buy me ice cream"
○ "baby i would buy a store's entire stock just for you to get into the car"
○ your drunken self softened at this, "you would?" by this, you're also tearing up
○ "okay chan, i'll get in the car"
○ he's thanking the heavens as he helps you up and eventually fastens your seatbelt.
○ but you do make up for things when you mumble what sounds like an 'i love you' before you proceed to pass out in the passenger seat
○ (he still stops by a convenience store to buy you ice cream even as you snooze)
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