#kim mingyu scenarios

[toruro]

— ✧ to the brim

pairing. kim mingyu x reader

description. all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?

↳ tags. smut (18+), breeding kink, husband!mingyu, filthy honestly

w/c. 2.9k

a/n. request .. i couldnt hold back

you shut your eyes tight, squirming against the soft linen sheets as your husband holds you down. mingyu’s thick, strong arm latches onto your hips, pushing them back down whenever you dig your heels into the mattress and lift them up.

his tongue is lapping at your cunt, the lower half of his face slowly turning into a slobbering, dripping mess. “gyu,” you cry out, as he brings up a single finger and plunges it into your gummy walls, rubbing against them relentlessly and moves his mouth to your clit.

this is mingyu’s treat, as he put it five minutes earlier when you rolled on top of him this morning. you’d spent a few peaceful minutes laying on his sheet as he stroked his fingers through your hair as you drowsily murmured something about enjoying this weekend. of course, mingyu being the loving, caring, giving husband that he is, he offered to go down on you to make sure your day started off a little extra sweet.

now, as mingyu promised, you’re on the verge of your likely first of many orgasms for the next two days, nearly having to grab a pillow to cover your mouth so you don’t get a noise complaint from your neighbors.

reaching down to pull his hair, mingyu moans against your core when you tug at the thick brown locks, the vibrations building up that knot that he’s been so carefully tying. he’s looking you right in the eyes and the way his eyelids are half closed, almost as if he’s enjoying this as much as you (he probably is), has that knot being pulled so tight that you can’t help but let tears prick at corner of your eyes when it finally snaps.

mingyu fucks his fingers into you so fast it has you seeing stars as you ride out your orgasm, his demanding grip on your waist finally being release so you can swivel your hips to meet the movements of his hands. coming down with cries of his name and heavy pants, mingyu finally frees your overstimulated cunt of his ministrations, not breaking his gaze on you.

“you liked that?” he asks jokingly, peeling himself away from your wet thighs, glistening chin on display under the morning glow. rolling your eyes as you finally catch your breath, you let your hiked up knees fall to the bed as mingyu crawls up to you, pressing a messy kiss on your lips.

wincing slightly at the feeling of your own wetness against your cheeks, you push his face away gently. “of course i liked that,” you mumble, face burning.

mingyu chuckles, rolling over and laying in his back next to you, legs intertwined with yours. “just making sure angel,” he replies, bringing up a finger to wipe away some of the wetness from his lips, watching you as you shimmy your panties back on. he pouts when he realizes you’re getting up, fisting and unfisting his hand as he reaches out for you in a grabbing motion. “want more, angel.”

you consider going along with whatever plans mingyu has, and although you are quite turned on, you also feel the need to be a little productive. “i thought this was my treat, was it not?” you retort, swinging your legs over the bed and standing up, making your way out the door.

mingyu huffs at your response, “you’re lame,” throwing his head back. he kicks his legs around in the bed with a faux tantrum, rolling over to your side—he insists it’s warmer—and reaches for your phone. “hey babe, what’s your password again?” he calls out to you in a teasing tone when you’re at the bedroom door.

“mingyu there’s no way you just asked me that,” you sigh, knowing where this is going. he looks up at you with a smug grin as he holds your phone in the air.

“i know,” he says smugly, ”i just want to hear you say it.”

warmth permeates your body at his honesty, and you ears burn as you turn away, embarrassed. “it’s your birthday…”

“aww, really?” he coos as if you haven’t repeated this a million times.

“yes babe,” you mumble, walking out the door. “don’t milk it, or i’ll change it.”

mingyu gasps from the bed. “you would never,” he yells in disbelief.

“would so!” you yell back, grinning to yourself knowing that it’s a damn lie. “what are you doing on my phone anyways?” you ask curiously from the kitchen.

“‘m checking your calendar,” he replies, and from the open door you can see him scrolling through what you can only assume is your period app. you, once again, have an idea of where this is going to go, except this time you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to control yourself—not with the way you instinctively press your thighs together as you remember that it’s that time of month.

no, not that time of month—the other time of month.

you don’t even have time to think about what you’re going to make for breakfast because mingyu is thudding down the hallway and circling his large hand around your wrist and dragging you back to the bedroom. you can’t even find it in you to protest at this point, the familiar pooling of heat at the base of your stomach reinforcing the fact that you want—no, need—this as much as him.

you stumble over your steps but mingyu’s grip on you is tight and steady and before you know it he has you in the air and thrown onto the mattress. “you’re already prepped right angel?” mingyu confirms as he pushes his boxers down before clambering on top of you, resting himself between your legs.

“i dunno,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him down into a fierce kiss. “you kind of did eat me out like five minutes ago, did you forget?”

“how could i?” mingyu grins, tugging at the hem of your (his) shirt as a signal to take it off. “you look so hot when you cum,” he adds, “wish i could take a picture and make it my wallpaper or something.” he yanks down your soiled panties once more, making it a personal goal for himself to make sure you don’t get the chance to put them back on this morning.

“you already have pictures,” you remind him, slipping off mingyu’s shirt from your body, falling back onto the sheets as he stares down at you, his painfully hard length pressing into your thigh.

“yeah but they aren’t my wallpaper,” mingyu whines, flicking your clit once and chuckling at the way your body jerks.

“maybe because i don’t want—i don’t know—dokyeom to see me naked every time you open your phone.”

“ugh, you’re right—i hate sharing,” he agrees, nudging his tip against your folds. “you ready angel?”

"uh-huh," you murmur, lifting your hips slightly so he can line himself up with your hole. his bulbous tip hardly pushes in an inch before you're whining out his name and pushing the side of your face into the mattress from the stretch.

not even years with mingyu can prepare you for the way his cock is always so thick and long—the initial stretch is always a challenge, but the sensation of being split in two by your one and only husband has become one that you cherish.

"fuck," mingyu grunts, letting his had fall to your shoulder as he eases his cock into your cunt. "you're fucking sucking me in babe," he continues as he finally bottoms out. pressing kissing onto your skin, you dig your nails into mingyu's back as he allows you to adjust.

when you start to involuntarily rock your hips into his, mingyu takes this as his chance to take control, pressing his arms into your pelvis to still your movements. looking up at him with confusion, his only response is a smirk as he roughly snaps his hips back, the harsh drag of his cock making your vision go hazy and your mind go dizzy. without warning, he ruts back into you, and he feels so close that you nearly feel his cock pulsing inside of your cunt.

the sound of your soaked pussy and mingyu's cock colliding echos through the room, a wet puddle forming beneath the area you connect. your body shakes on the mattress with every thrust, his hips sending you in a back and forth motion as you reach for his hand to stabilize yourself.

"fuck, how are you always this tight?" he moans, slick from your cunt running down his thigh as he angles himself higher above you.

"f-feels so good gyu," you manage to gasp, your legs weakening, their grip on his hips growing loose. "baby, your shoulders—fuck—ca-can you—can i—" you beg incandescently, not making much sense but it seems mingyu understands the message as he slows down his movements.

"god yes." grabbing your legs, he pushes them up so that your knees are pressing against your chest. you secure them in their spot by wrapping your hands under your knees, but the position doesn't last for long before mingyu throws each leg over his shoulder so your ankles touch behind his neck. mingyu latches his arms over your legs that are now pressed against his chest, before pulling his hips back and ramming back into you.

the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears and with every batter of his cock against that one spot in your cunt, you feel closer and closer to white, hot release. you grapple at the sheets around you, not being able to hold your husband's hands, and squirm at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you.

"you close gyu? 'm close," you moan.

"yeah—shit—i can tell babe, you're squeezing me so tight, so good. gonna milk me dry angel?" he grunts, pressing down further so you're nearly bent in half.

"i wanna," you babble mindlessly, "wanna cum with you—wanna have your cum gyu—"

even in your hazy state, you catch the way mingyu's eyes darken at your words. "fuck say that again," he orders.

"want your cum!" you cry out, feeling the hot coil in your stomach grow close to it's end. "fill me up gyu, 'm so close, 'm ready—please, please, please, gimme your cum gyu, please." your words are going through mingyu's ears and straight down to his cock and then he's slamming into you so hard you think you might fall off the face of the earth.

"fucking perfect pussy, 'm gonna fill you up, fill you up so good your tummy's gonna be all swollen with my baby," mingyu moans with thick spurts of his seed shooting through you, marking your cunt as his. the feeling has your back arching off the mattress, legs shaking over his shoulders as you shriek his name. "you like that?"

"mingyu—shit! love it, love your cum, love you!" you whine as pleasure slams through your body, legs giving out from the tension so they fall by mingyu's side so he can continue fucking into you despite his own overstimulation.

he watches the way you twitch at every movement, looking down at the part when his cock kisses your pussy, adoring the way he's able to fuck all his dripping seed back into you, muttering to himself about how he's gotta "make sure you don't waste a drop."

within a few moments you're both intertwined as an overstimulated mess, mingyu finally stilling inside of you as you pant for breath. "think it worked?" he murmurs, and you lift your head to look down at your core.

"it'd better," you reply, letting mingyu lean down to kiss you. then, against his lips, you continue, "we fucked up the sheets for this." you shift a little and then you feel the cool wet spot that has formed, cringing at how you already have to change the sheets.

"mm, we can just make use of the space…you know, since it's already so messy," mingyu suggest, pulling away from your lips and now that he's not kissing you, you're hyper aware of the way he's growing hard inside of you.

"mingyu—"

"c'mon angel, you know you want to. need to see you brimming with my cum," he eggs you on, grabbing your waist and turning you over on your stomach while he's still inside of you. you feel the stretch from inside of your pussy return, and mingyu's words are doing nothing but filthy things to you because you feel yourself growing warmer at the thought of his cum seeping out of you.

"please," you squeak out when he forcefully yanks your hips up so your ass is in the air, lined up with mingyu's pelvis.

"so needy," mingyu chuckles, pulling his length out halfway, placing a hand on your ass to steady himself. your whole core is covered in wetness, a mix of his saliva from earlier when he went down on you, his cum, and your own wetness. the sticky mixture coats both of your bodies now, and mingyu can't help but spiral at the idea that after this, you're going to be filled with even more of his cum.

he snaps his hips so his cock slamming back into you with such sheer force that you lurch forward, the only thing holding you in your spot being mingyu's grip on your lower half. "bet you wanted this—fuck—" he mutters out, each word punctuated with increasingly sharp thrusts, "—from the moment you woke up. wanted to be fucked raw. wanted me to dump my cum inside of your perfect fucking pussy."

"yes!" you agree without a thought to your head, arms giving out so your face is pressing into the mattress now. your moans are a bit muffled and mingyu is slightly annoyed that he can't hear you to your fullest, releasing his irritation by plunging his cock into your gaping cunt harder and harder, which has you crying out louder and louder.

"holy fuck, you're so tight—are you gonna cum already?" mingyu groans as you arch your back and push your ass back to meet his thrusts, chasing your third orgasm of the day.

"s-sorry gyu—it feels s-so so good," you blabber, tears springing at your eyes as a sob rips at your throat. you're so close already, your core squeezing and twitching uncontrollably at the immense stimulation and pleasure that's coming over you. you're tethering on to whatever last bit of self control you have as mingyu abuses your warm, wet walls with his cock.

"don't apologize angel," mingyu reminds you, but it's hard to believe him when his voice sounds so strained. you can tell he's refraining, holding himself back from letting loose and now you're mind is going blank at the thought of mingyu cumming inside you as tears begin to streak down your cheeks.

"oh my god, mingyu, 'm getting close," you warn, body growing limp as your thighs begin to cramp.

"fuck, my precious angel gonna cum on my cock? gonna make a mess?"

"yes, love your cock mingyu, love it, need it," you plead. "can i have your cum? wan' more of your cum gyu—feels so good." your vocabulary is reducing to that of a five-year olds (save for the repeated begging for mingyu's seed) and you can't help but hiccup over yourself.

"wan' my cum? fuck, i'll give you my cum—breeding you like the good fucking girl you are," mingyu spits out, jamming his cock into you with sloppy but determined thrusts. they're erratic and mindless but it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cum for the third time this morning.

muffling your cries with the sheets underneath you, the way you're bawling out his name and pleading, "fill me up gyu, do it deep," has him letting go of all notions of self control.

he's cumming inside of you once more with one last thrust, murmuring, "gonna fuck a baby into you—you want that? wanna have my babies, angel?"

"yes gyu—fuck!" you moan at the feeling of his load being squirted inside of you, the hot ropes of cum seeming endless as the sensation helps you ride out the last of your orgasm.

"fuck, i've filled you to the brim," mingyu groans, looking down at the way his and your liquids cream the base of his cock and balls, the mess dripping down onto the linen. "what a mess," he mumbles to himself, more satisfied with himself than anything.

you're still slightly shaking, the past three orgasms fully catching up to you with a harsh wave of exhaustion that has your body falling forward flat onto the mattress, mingyu slipping out of you in the process. you let out a soft groan at the feeling of being empty, but have no time to dwell on the thought as mingyu flips you over again so you're lying on your back.

you're able to see the look on his face now, finally facing him, and the way his eyes sparkle down at you has your stomach tumbling in adoration. "i love you," mingyu states, eyes trailing down from your face back down to your cunt.

"i love you too," you chuckle before saying, "my eyes are up here lover boy." mingyu rolls his eyes, but doesn't peel his eyes away. "take a picture babe, it'll last longer." mingyu's eyes shoot up at that.

"can i?"

"only if you send it to me too."

a/n. hope you enjoyed! please like and reblog and let me know how u liked this c:

#kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt reactions #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #📝 writing

[novalpha]

𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ 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

#seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen au #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu fanfic #mingyu angst #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu imagine #seventeen fanfics #seventeen fic rec #seventeen fic recs #fic recs #mingyu recs #svt fic recs #svt hybrid au

[jeonstellate]

my future in your eyes

mingyu still holds onto you, even after all this time.

๑彡 kim mingyu x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 divorced!au/ex-husband!au, post-break up!au, exes-to-lovers!au — fluff

๑彡 paragraph format — 1.1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from zack tabudlo’s as you are.

๑彡 i’m lowk proud of this ngl bc— it’s fluff, but it took me relatively quick to finish?? usually i get stuck for weeks if the wip’s fluff ><

Kim Mingyu is a man of confidence.

Not that he uses his confidence to swindle strangers, as the dictionary suggests the title means. Rather, he exudes confidence — regardless of what he does.

There is always an air confidence around him. He can be in clothes that don’t fit the event’s theme and he’ll still seem perfectly dressed. He can be barely conversant in another language and he’ll still sound like he knows what he’s saying. He can just be standing there, doing nothing, and he’ll still appear like he’s doing something right.

Some people mistake his confidence for arrogance. Most find it admirable. But, in truth, Mingyu hardly cares.

Especially if his so-called confidence vanishes whenever you are in the vicinity and within his line of sight. Just like now.

He sees you in a table with Seokmin. Your back is towards him but he recognizes you, anyway. Despite the distance, he has no problem witnessing how animatedly you talk with your common friend.

It’s almost like he is back in college: you and Seokmin in one row, him and Minghao a few rows back. He can almost hear Minghao state matter-of-factly, "You’re staring," like he often does back then.

Really, all that’s different is Minghao’s currently preoccupied being the groom to comment on his staring. (There are definitely more things that are different now, but he doesn’t want to even begin thinking about them.)

Seokmin catches his stare. Not soon after, specifically before Mingyu can even look away, he sees him leave the table. Seokmin throws him a familiar meaningful look before disappearing into the dance floor.

Truth be told, Mingyu’s confidence comes naturally. It isn’t something that he purposely channels. It’s just always there . . . unless you are involved. Then, suddenly, he has to painstakingly gather the confidence to be near you.

"Is this seat taken?" He tries his hardest to mask his awestruck look with one of kind politeness as he waits your response.

He almost forgot how to breathe when your eyes lock into his. "You may sit if you wish," you offer him a small, polite smile. "I don’t think he’ll be back anytime soon."

"Thanks." He effortlessly returns your gesture before situating himself on the chair your common friend abandoned. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"Really well, actually. I didn’t expect to recognize a lot of people from college." Your eyes don’t leave his as you answer. He tries not to stare back too intently, to look within your eyes to see something . . . anything. "And you?"

Mingyu waits for a beat, gathering enough confidence to say what he wants to. "Better now that you’re here." With me.

He lets out a barely audible embarrassed laugh. He has half a mind to take it back, but quickly changes his mind when he sees you biting your lower lip — an obvious attempt to stop yourself from laughing.

A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. There’s pride in knowing he’s still able to make you laugh, despite it being your first meeting in literal years.

You look down in a presumable attempt to calm yourself down. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, though, as he refuses to lose you from his sight. As such, he immediately notices the sudden shift in your expression.

"You’re still wearing it." Mingyu follows your line of sight — and ends up looking at the source of your comment. His hand on the table, specifically the band of gold adorning his ring finger. "Our ring."

Our wedding ring.

You and Mingyu married soon after graduating from college. It had been a blissful marriage, one that filled a home with nothing but love and support.

Your divorce was on the basis of irreconcilable differences. It was a mutual decision, for the interest of your career paths diverging too far. There was never a bad blood.

"Ye— yeah." Mingyu stutters involuntarily. He clears his throat before continuing, "It’s a great conversational piece."

Although the divorce has been finalized years ago, Mingyu still plays the faithful and loving husband role in front of strangers. He uses the ring on his finger to his advantage: may that be to wordlessly signal that he’s already taken or to gain the favor of a potential sponsor.

Likewise, even if he knows the ring might be a disadvantage, he refuses to take it off — nor to purposely hide it from sight. The same way he never tells a stranger that he is no longer tied to someone else.

"Does it work?" You ask in wonder.

"We are conversing now, aren’t we?"

You chuckle, "Touché."

Mingyu wants to tell you that he hasn’t taken the ring off since you slipped it on his finger during your wedding. Not even after your divorce has been finalized all those years ago.

He wants to tell you his ring finger is thinner near his palm because of his adamant refusal to take his wedding ring off once in a while. Not willing to separate from the only physical reminder of your marriage, not even for a second.

He wants to tell you the ring is more than a conversational piece. He wants to tell you it’s his lifeline, something he can’t bear to lose. But he doesn’t.

Instead, Mingyu uses all the confidence he has gathered to ask you a simple question. "Dance with me?"

He offers you the hand adorned by his wedding ring. He tries not to show the uncertainty he feels by masking it behind a smile.

He almost lets out a relieved sigh when you place your hand on top of his. But he stops breathing momentarily when he catches sight of the sole jewelry adorning your hand.

"You’re still wearing it," Mingyu echoes your comment breathlessly. "Our ring."

He snaps his eyes back to your face, just in time to witness your smile widen. "Yeah," you say. "It’s a great talisman to ward off potential suitors."

He leads you to the dance floor, silently marveling at how your hand still fits perfectly with his. "Does it work?"

"It’s very effective," you assure him. "Although I don’t think it works well against ex-husbands."

Another slow song starts playing right when you reach the dance floor. You and Mingyu unconsciously claim your respective hand placements during your first dance — and for any waltz you danced after.

Then, suddenly, it’s like you traveled back in time.

Mingyu pulls you closer, a ghost of a smirk is at the edge of his lips. "I think it works well attracting ex-husbands."

#kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #kim mingyu oneshots #mingyu oneshots #seventeen oneshots #ex-husband!au #post-break up!au #exes-to-lovers!au #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen

[shuahoonie]

warm on a cold night | kim mingyu

pairing: non-idol!mingyu (svt) x female!reader

notes: college au! fluff, pet names, the great wall of mingyu, fake dating for convenience? maybe questionable relationships (aka mingyu what are we), a bit of angst— nothing too serious, alcohol consumption, a clingy and touchy mingyu. loosely based on the song warm on a cold night by HONNE

word count: 3.6k (a bit of a long one, sorry!)

summary: there was no denying that mingyu looked like he was carved out from the gods, that's why he keeps getting asked out.

yet every poor person's attempt of asking him out is often met with rejection. the reason? you two are *supposedly* dating (on the dl), he would say. the truth? you two aren’t.

part of the to x, with love mini series

shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist

"kim mingyu, can you please enlighten me why the girls that i just passed by from the engineering department literally gave me the nastiest side eye?" you raised a brow at mingyu who was crouched over at the student lounges by the engineering department. you set the coffee and cake at the nearby empty table.

upon hearing your voice, mingyu looked like a child on christmas morning as soon as he saw you.

“baby!” mingyu came running, tackling you with a huge hug, abandoning the plates he had been working on. “i missed you!” he said, almost excruciatingly loud, turning a few heads over your way.

“yah,” you smacked the back of his head, causing him to groan and let go of the hug almost immediately. “i told you to quit calling me that!”

“you don’t like being called honey nor sweetheart either,” mingyu mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

“it’s because my parents call me that,” you replied, getting sidetracked. “but that’s not the point—“

“would you rather i call you kitten, instead?” he asked in a suggestive tone, wriggling his eyebrows.

“why you—“ you were ready to let out a string of curses, a hand also ready to smack the living daylights out of him, before mingyu grabbed you from behind and wrapped both his arms around you— one to press over your mouth and one to stop your hand from hitting him.

“kitten, let’s not get violent.” mingyu said, trying to calm you down.

“yn, are you being held hostage by your own boyfriend?” jihoon asked in amusement as he passed by you two.

you pulled away mingyu’s hand that was pressed against your lips, “yes, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

mingyu, who still stood there behind you, rested his chin on top of your head and continued to wrap his arms around you.

“not according to the people from the music department,” jihoon replied with a smirk. “and this,” he gestured to the position that you two are in “is not helping.”

“uji, what are you doing in the engineering department anyway?” mingyu asked, “are you here to see me because you miss me?” he teased.

“no, because why would i even do that," jihoon looked disgusted upon hearing mingyu's comment, making mingyu pout. "besides, unlike some people, i don’t have to run from one end of the campus to the other just to see someone,” jihoon replied, the comment more so directed at you.

“i did not run on my way here,” you rolled your eyes, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “and i’m here because this 6 ft tall baby won’t stop blowing upmy phone, saying he wanted coffee.”

“and yet you’re here,” jihoon said in a teasing tone, enough to make you charge at him— you could’ve though, if wasn’t for mingyu who’s still latched to you.

“and my baby’s here with iced americano,” he said, letting go of you and grabbing the coffee instead. “and cake?” his eyes almost sparkled upon seeing the familiar takeout box from his favourite dessert place aka cheollie and jeonghan’s cafe. “oh, you truly love me.” mingyu chuckled softly.

you snorted. “yeah, right.” it’s always complicated with you two. you never knew where things crossed and you assumed neither did mingyu.

“okay, it seems like i’m intruding,” jihoon mumbled “i need to go, i have to meet vernon by the library soon— have fun you two.” jihoon said with a smile. “oh, and do not forget, we’re all meeting at seungcheol’s café on saturday. the man gets sulky whenever we don’t go all out on his birthday,” he added before he left you two alone.

“wait, i’ll come with you, uji!” you said to jihoon before turning to mingyu who was already pouting. “i need to go, gyu. good luck on your plates!” you smiled at him and gently tapped his cheek.

“you’re not staying with me?” mingyu was getting sulky “but you just got here.” he whined.

“i only came here because you kept calling my phone, you’re lucky i didn’t block your number.” you said, half-joking— on the latter part, of course!

“you’d never do it anyway.” mingyu said with a smug smile.

“only because you’ll tell my mom and i will never hear the end of it.” you sighed. “i swear she loves you more than me.”

"it's because she has taste," mingyu stuck his tongue out at you, making you roll your eyes "unlike her daughter who will purposely leave me alone to fend for myself."

"you are so dramatic, i swear to god," you grumbled loud enough for mingyu to hear. being the menace that he is, he threw a balled-up straw wrapper at you. "okay, i'm going, bye." you said in one breath and ran to catch up with jihoon, not even bothering to look back.

"without even a kiss or anything?!" mingyu yelled obnoxiously, urging you to run faster.

jihoon caught glimpse of you and stopped so you can catch up, and catch your breath. "you okay?" jihoon asked in amusement.

you nodded. "yeah, let's go. don't want to keep nonie waiting," you said in between breaths. "mingyu better bring me food later because he pulled me from having a main character moment from the cafe." you huffed.

"are you sure you and mingyu are just friends?" jihoon asked with a raised brow.

"uji, just because you wound up dating your best friend, that doesn't mean the rest of us would have to do it too," you said teasingly. it wasn't a joke per se. "except for jeonghan, because you know, he hates being one-upped."

jihoon rolled his eyes, but it was evident he was turning red. "we won't tease you— if that's why you are so secretive about it." jihoon commented "although, i have to be honest, you two are more clingier than me and my partner."

"that's because you detest any form of physical affection," you pointed out.

"might i remind you that you also used to hate that too," jihoon proclaimed "until mingyu practically latched on to you like glue."

you ignored jihoon’s comment, mostly because he was right, but you’re not willing to admit that just yet. "it wasn't like he made me uncomfortable or anything— and i did say yes to the whole ‘if anyone asks, can i tell them that we’re dating’ thing, since it was bothering him" you rambled "he just said people wouldn't take his rejections seriously so he had to show people that he wasn't interested."

"so, what, is this a complicated way of projecting that you two are fake dating?"

"i guess so," you sighed. "i mean, i guess it's working because no one really bothered him anymore,”

"and you're okay with that?" jihoon asked.

"i mean, i get the occasional side eye from people, which i, too, return because i hate losing" you joked, "and if it keeps mingyu happy, then..."

"ya!" jihoon flicked you on the forehead, making you yelp, "we've all been friends for ages and i know your secret feelings for mingyu, so i know this is secretly killing you."

"wow," you were trying to act appalled, when jihoon was exactly right. "i do not have secret feelings for mingyu.”

“repeat it five more times, it might come true,” jihoon teased. “i see the way you look at him,” he points out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“i look at him the same way i look at you guys,” you replied as you and jihoon entered the library, spotting vernon slouching at one of the chairs— bored out of his mind.

“you look at us like we’re stupid,” jihoon rolled his eyes.

“exactly.” you beamed at him.

“yn,” vernon looked surprised upon seeing you with jihoon. “i thought you were with mingyu.”

“why would you think that?” you asked him with a raised brow.

“because he wouldn’t stop moaning about how much you kept ignoring his calls earlier,” vernon replied. “and i thought you finally gave in.”

“now, why on earth would you assume that i would give in.” you crossed your arms, slightly annoyed of the idea that is your current legacy— the girl who will always give in for kim mingyu.

“because it’s mingyu,” vernon smirked “you would’ve done anything for him.”

seungcheol and jeonghan’s quaint café was already alive as soon as you got there. it was said to be an intimate get together but you didn’t expect the amount of people who gathered for seungcheol’s party.

“yn!” vernon waved at you as soon he saw you emit from the doors. “were you alone? did you drive?”

“i came here straight from work,” you explained “i was told that mingyu’s planning to get wasted so i brought my car, in case any of you needs a ride.”

vernon raised his brow. “any of us? or just mingyu?”

“yah!” you flicked his forehead in response, making vernon yelp. “you’ve been spending way too much time with uji.”

“but it’s true,” you heard vernon mumble to himself.

“i was also told that it was an intimate get together” you said as you scanned the place filled with a good mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

“yeah, but knowing cheol, he probably wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to celebrate his day with the people he knew,” vernon commented as you two made your way towards the crowd, aiming to find the table where the rest of your friends are hopefully staying.

"happy birthday, cheollie!" you beamed at seungcheol, who just finished checking up on soonyoung and seungkwan. you gave a big wave to soonie and kwannie, making a mental note to properly say hi later.

you handed him the perfectly wrapped present that you may or may not have spent ages on wrapping— you had to mentally put yourself on a pinterest lockdown. “it’s from me and gyu,” you smiled at him.

“thanks, yn,” seungcheol smiles. “you know, you didn’t have to get me anything though.” his smile falters and you did have a sense on where this is going. “you could’ve just greeted me at 12 am in the group chat, didn’t leave me on read.” cheol sulks.

you rolled your eyes at the most incredulous take you heard from your friend. “choi seungcheol, i swear to god— you are the only person i know that bullies people into greeting them happy birthday as soon as the clocks hit midnight.”

“it’s a special day!” seungcheol pouts.

“whatever,” you dismissed him jokingly, earning you a dramatic huff from cheol. “where’s joshua? i haven’t seen him in ages,” you asked, peering around the room.

“why are you looking for another man when your boyfriend’s here?” mingyu suddenly pops out of nowhere, handing you a drink. seungcheol went to make rounds again, checking up on his guests. meanwhile vernon joined soonyoung and seungkwan’s table— which was only a couple of steps away from you two.

“gyu, it’s literally just us here.” you rolled your eyes at him as you gladly accepted the cola. “i don’t think we need to keep acting here,”

“kitten, there’s people here that don’t know that.”

“exactly,” you pointed out. “there’s no reason for us to start acting like a couple if the people here don’t even care if we’re ‘seeing’ each other.”

“but i do,” mingyu mumbled— closer to a whisper. he feared that if he said it to your face— or if you heard it, you’d think differently of him.

but you did hear it. you weren’t sure if it was the mixed chatter that’s messing up your hearing, or if you were just hearing things that you wanted to hear. nonetheless, it had you flustered.

you cleared your throat. “i’ll be back, gyu. i wanna check the food platter,” you said quietly before leaving.

gyu gave a tight nod, which it didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the guys.

upon checking what cheol’s birthday spread, you felt a small tap on your shoulder. “pst!”

you were immediately filled with surprise and joy when you saw joshua standing behind you, smiling, and his arms spread out waiting for a hug.

“shua!” you almost shrieked, tackling him in a hug. “i missed you!”

joshua let out a small laugh. “i missed you too, ynnie.”

you quickly let go of the hug, remembering the text he sent you a few days ago and gave him a playful smack in the arm. “you know, you’re truly sick in the head for texting me that after you asked me for a favour.”

“i was just congratulating you for overcoming your pride and finally accepting the fact that you love mingyu,” joshua teased, nudging you playfully. “must you forget that i follow you on your private twitter?”

“literally shut the fuck up, shua,” you grumbled.

“wow,” joshua sighs, appalled “you kiss mingyu with that mouth?!”

“you annoying brat—“ you were about to smack him before joshua caught your hand, laughing at how flustered you were becoming.

across the room, mingyu was watching you and joshua. how playful you were around joshua. it’s not like he’s jealous or anything— because he’s not. or rather, he has no right to be.

seungkwan picked up on gyu’s slight change of behaviour and where his line of vision was projecting. “you know they’re just really close friends right?” seungkwan comments, trying to ease the conversation.

“hm?” mingyu pretended to not know what seungkwan was pertaining to.

of course, it didn’t work. it’s seungkwan we’re talking about here. he knows when things can get messy really fast and he knows when to stop it. the pointed look that seungkwan gave was also a telling sign that mingyu shouldn’t even bother to lie.

mingyu sighed before taking big gulps of his beer. “she’s allowed to like whomever,” mingyu finally says. “even if it’s my best friend, i’ll still support her.”

“oh, i cannot do this,” vernon muttered under his breath, leaving the table as soon as the words left mingyu’s mouth.

soonyoung was quietly listening to mingyu and seungkwan’s conversation. it was the quietest he has been all night, well, partly because he had already drank a bottle of soju. soonie was afraid that if he said something, it would incriminate you and your feelings for mingyu— and he’d rather not face your wrath.

“well, have you two talked about whatever happens if either of you wanted to date someone else?” seungkwan asked.

the question lingered around mingyu— it never crossed his mind. he had always assumed that you would always be there for him, which was extremely selfish considering you weren’t his to begin with.

mingyu’s silence was enough for seungkwan. he knew where mingyu’s feelings settled. quite, frankly, seungkwan knew where your feelings for mingyu too. but seungkwan knew better than to meddle, especially with unresolved feelings that involved two idiots.

mingyu watched you give joshua a small bag— a present, probably. joshua gave you a grateful smile and a big hug after, making you giggle at something he said. shua seemed happy around you and you were happy around him.

that hurt more than mingyu wanted to admit.

“yn,” joshua whispered as you were busy picking food. “how much are you willing to bet that mingyu’s jealous right now?” he asked upon catching a glimpse of mingyu, who was on his 3rd bottle of beer now and was watching them intently.

you snorted, not bothering to look at joshua. “at whom? is he eyeing on someone i didn’t know about?”

“why,” a twinkle formed in joshua’s eyes “are you jealous?”

“psh,” you didn’t even bother to look at him. joshua will read you right away. “why would i be? i’m not his girlfriend.”

“oh my god,” joshua laughed almost annoyingly that you’d rather take back the limited edition copy of the book that he asked you to get him— a favour for being a good friend, apparently. you knew damn well joshua was going to give that to someone else. “you are! oh, how cute.” he gushed.

“i am not,” you groaned, lying straight through your teeth.

“you should go back,” joshua laughs “as much as i have enjoyed seeing how you two really felt about each other, i don’t want to be the cause of whatever’s stopping you two from it.” with joshua’s ominous words and a small goodbye, he left.

“yn,” seungcheol suddenly crept behind you. “check up on, gyu. he’s drinking too much for someone who hasn’t eaten anything.”

“where did you even—“ your heart was racing, still startled at cheol.

“don’t ask questions and just go,” cheol said, pushing you towards mingyu.

you found mingyu absolutely buzzed beside seungkwan. mingyu rested his head on top of seungkwan’s shoulder, his eyes staring directly at you. seungkwan, on the other hand, was looking at you with pleading eyes— asking as if to save him from this misery.

“yah, kim mingyu,” you grabbed mingyu’s hand and attempted to pull him up from his chair “kwannie’s getting tired. leave him alone.”

“no, he’s not.” mingyu sulked. oh, he’s definitely drunk. “i don’t hear him complaining.”

“because seungkwannie’s too nice to say anything,” you replied, shooting seungkwan an apologetic smile. “get up, mingyu. let’s grab something for you to eat and maybe some water.”

“i don’t want to,” he moaned. mingyu straightened up his position and leaned his head back against the wall. “why are you here anyway? where’s joshua?” he asked, eyes closed.

seungkwan and soonyoung could sense tension between you and mingyu. the last thing they wanted was to witness what was about to unfold. “hyung,” seungkwan grabbed soonyoung’s arm. “let’s go grab something to drink.”

soonie, though nearly drunk, understood the situation and nodded.

as soon as the two left, you stood closer to mingyu, towering against him. “mingyu,” you patted his cheek softly, attempting to make him look at you. “c’mon.”

mingyu groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. it was ridiculous, you had no idea why he was acting like this. well, you had a hunch— joshua’s comment coming into mind— but it was ridiculous right? right?

mingyu eventually met your eyes— a bit red, probably from exhaustion. “where’s shua?” mingyu asked quietly.

you raised an eyebrow at him. “why? is there something you wanted to tell him?” you asked, sitting next to him.

mingyu turned his head against you, wondering why there’s a small smirk forming in your face.

“no,” mingyu huffed. “you looked like you were having tons of fun with him.”

“yeah, i was.” you replied casually, willing to play the game— willing to find out whether joshua’s hunch about mingyu being jealous was actually true. “joshua’s your friend, you know.”

“i know,” mingyu huffed, as if you were rubbing it to him. “so why are you here?” mingyu asked, sounding annoyed. almost.

“why? do you not want me here?”

“i do, but—“ mingyu ran a hand over his face out of frustration. come to think of it, he was slowly coming into his senses. wondering why he was acting like this. “you know what, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“of course, i am.” you casually agreed.

“then why—“

you cut mingyu off and asked “gyu, why do you think i’m here?”

mingyu bit the inside of his cheeks before answering “to take care of me?”

“partly, yeah,” you laughed. “and it’s because i like spending time with you.”

mingyu’s sulky behaviour instantly dissipates, a large grin suddenly taking over his face. “you like spending time with me?” he asks, almost excitedly.

“there’s a lot of things i like about you, mingyu.” you answered, almost easily— not even knowing where this newfound confidence came from. “why do you think i keep doing things for you?”

“i thought you were just being overtly loyal to being my best friend,” he answered with a pout.

“gyu, i don’t think i could ever agree to do the things you asked me to if it were someone else.”

“you mean if joshua asked you to be his pretend girlfriend, you’d say no?” mingyu asked with a quirk brow.

“where is this jealousy from joshua coming from?!” you practically yelled, smacking his arm. “that’s your best friend, you brat.”

“yeah? so?” mingyu crossed his arms “he’s a nice guy— a gentleman, sweet. i wouldn’t be surprised if you liked him.”

“oh my god,” you groaned “kim mingyu, you are dense as fuck.”

“yah, why are you calling me stupid?” mingyu turns his body to fully face you.

“because i’ve been trying to tell you that i like you, stupid.” you said, irritated.

“you like me?” mingyu’s face lights up.

“yes, you weirdo.”

“if you like me then why are you calling me ‘weirdo’?!” mingyu pouts.

“because you’re weird! never had i seen someone react like this, even after they were told that someone likes them.”

“but you like meee,” mingyu practically sings. “i like you too, ynnie.” he said snuggling closer to you, resting his head on top of yours.

“oh, i know” you replied, unbothered by the look that mingyu gave you. “i knew the moment that shua hugged me and gave me his attention, i knew you were jealous.”

“you knew that i was jealous and you still didn’t do anything about it?”

“please,” you snorted “i was trying to prove the theory. i am, first and foremost, a research girly after all.”

“and what theory is that?” mingyu asked,

“that i was certain about my feelings about you,” you replied. “and that i just had to make sure you were too.”

“you did all that when i could’ve just kissed you?”mingyu baffles “you had me seeing red.”

“uh, not with beer-breath you’re not.” you said, crossing your arms. mingyu suddenly stands up, prompting you to ask “where are you going?”

“to ask cheol if he has any spare toiletries in his office,” mingyu answers in a hurry, making you laugh.

hiya friends! sorry if this took a while! april has not been kind to a fourth-yr uni student, but at least, it's all over now! i can write (non-uni related works) as much as i want! 🤩

#kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fic #svt imagines #svt x you #svt fluff #mingyu x you #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #shuahoonie writes

[thepixelelf]

mingyu slice if life domestic fluff ! 💳💳💳 (im bribing you)

teehee

note: reader took mingyu's last name in the divorce marriage! also, there is slight mention of the pair's sexual relationship, but nothing graphic

[goodnight, mr kim] Sometimes, even when Mingyu's day has been unendingly long and unbearably busy, he still buzzes around the house like a bee at the end of the night. He doesn't know why this happens, but you have your guesses-- things in motion want to stay in motion, after all.

"Have you seen my reading glasses?" he asks you, his silhouette appearing and disappearing in the bedroom doorway as he scurries past it.

"They're on the nightstand, babe," you semi-shout to wherever he is in the house, not even looking at the side of the bed, where you know his glasses are. That's where they always are. You skim back a couple sentences in your book.

From (maybe) the kitchen, Mingyu asks, "Do you want a glass of water?"

You flip the page. "I have my water bottle. Aren't you tired?"

Suddenly, Mingyu's back in the doorway, arm extended and holding onto the jamb like it's the only thing keeping him upright. "Exhausted," he whines with a pout.

Sliding an old receipt into your book, you close it and place it on your nightstand with a smile. "I have an easy solution to that."

Mingyu's face is as cute as ever. "What?"

You pull back the covers in invitation and hold your arms out. "A little thing called a good night's rest. And you'll only get one if we start right now."

A short series of thoughts spin behind Mingyu's eyes before a smile spreads over his lips. Without warning, he breaks into a practical sprint and launches himself onto the bed.

And, onto you.

"Oof--" you grunt as you're squished into the not-so-comfy-as-two-seconds-ago mattress. His face snuggles into your neck, and you smack his shoulder. "Kim, you're suffocating me."

A breath huffs against your skin. You used to call him "Kim" before you got together all those years ago, when you and him were "strictly professional", and you only use it now when you're playfully upset with him.

Now, though, he has the privilege of getting you back.

He raises his head so he can meet your eyes and caress his thumb on your cheek. "Kim," he calls you, loving that little reminder of your togetherness. "I thought you liked a little suffo--"

"Mingyu!" You shove your hand in his face.

Chuckling, he rolls off you and lands on his side of the bed.

"Go to sleep," you say, laughing with him now. "Don't you have another busy day tomorrow?"

He shifts onto his side, elbow bent and head resting on his closed fist. "What if I just quit? Spend the day with you."

"Don't tempt me, Kim." You waggle a finger at him with a smirk. "You know how weak I am for romantic gestures."

He pulls you closer to lie beside him and moves so his head and yours share a pillow. A quick kiss gets pressed to your lips, then Mingyu pulls back with stars in his eyes. "I know. But that only makes me want to do them more."

"Kim," you try to say seriously, but a laugh slips through. You tap your finger on his lips. "Go to sleep."

He beams. "Okay, Kim. But only if you join me."

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

[witherednotes]

Something New

mingyu x f!reader — 2.1k words

warnings; explicit sexual content, sub!gyu (he’s actually a switch, but a sub throughout this fic), amazon position, daddy kink, size kink, choking (m receiving), oral (m receiving), edging, mention of masturbating, use of petnames (princess, baby, little one), unprotected sex, intended lowercase

ever since he brought it up, you thought you wouldn’t be the greatest fan of the idea. all of this time, it was always mingyu pinning you down and making you beg either for the smallest of his touch or for his mercy from you feeling too overwhelmed. so when he brought up a specific position that you were sure you would be the one taking control, you thought it wouldn’t be your cup of tea.

until you took the smallest sip.

with you coming to his apartment and the sight of him slumped in one of the armchairs, your mind traveled. with his hair down — probably from being pressed by his helmet as he dealt with the traffic — his white shirt and tie that is far from neat, with his legs spread apart as his eyes stuck to his phone screen, maybe the idea to try and take control just isn’t bad at all.

mingyu’s tired eyes let out a small spark as he saw you walk in. he threw his phone to the small table beside him, extending his long arms and ready to give you the biggest hug — the one that the two of you always love after the longest day at work.

what he didn’t expect was for you to climb to his lap and kiss him hard. but he let you without any questions. he let you hungrily kiss him with her hands roaming on his body. he lets you grind your hips over him. he lets you kiss down his neck as your fingers try to open the buttons of his shirt. he tried to help, but again, you wanted to have a taste of the control.

“i want to try the thing you showed me.” oh, did you never see him so shocked.

“are you sure? i was just asking if you would do it but you don’t have to.” his hand moved to your waist, giving a small reassuring squeeze before you pinned them down again.

“shut up before i change my mind.”

that led to this point. his hair became messier, drops of sweat dangling on the edge of the strands. his head thrown back, exposing his long neck. the base was still decorated by this loose tie, the tip wrapped around your palm as you rested your hand between his pecs. you weren’t sure how you are holding on, standing properly with his legs over your shoulder. maybe because he was kind enough (and still sane enough) to hold back his thighs to his chest, making the veins on his hand pop even more.

you tried to move your hips with the pace that he always goes with. you tried to hold your whimpers back as you felt his tip pushing all the right spots in you. the plus point of taking control; moving your hips all you want when he’s begging for you to pick up the pace.

and you understand why mingyu always wants you to beg. the way he looks at you with his puppy eyes. the way he barely moves — not that he can with the current position — letting you go however you want. the way those breathy “please”s drips from his lips. the way he whines when you stop to catch your breath before thrusting your hips again faster.

you love it. you love how your giant boyfriend who is almost twice your size whines and whimpers as his member stretches in a way that only this position could give him. the gasps he lets out as you experimentally tugged on his tie or when your small hand wrapped around his neck. and with the way his length twitched inside you, you knew he was enjoying it as much as you did.

“c-close—“ he blurted out. “faster, baby. please—“

and maybe you just love teasing him so much.

ignoring the knot in you stomach, you slowed down the pace earning a long whine from him. you smirked and pressed the spot under his jaw slightly, making him gasp.

“you wanted this, daddy. just take it.”

gosh, the dazed grin on his face when he heard the way you called him by his nickname with the position that is far from him to be called a dominant. he threw his head further back letting you press the side of his neck more — even with so much strength from you, it won’t compare to when he’s doing it by himself when he’s alone. but he fucking loves it.

“please, princess. daddy would be good, i promise.” his voice was hoarse, and pleading eyes looking straight at you.

“fine. but only after i did.”

you picked up your pace. hands now gripping his thigh just above his big ones, pushing them to get closer to his chest. your voices collided, his groans and your moans filled the room as it felt hotter and hotter each time. the sound of your skin slapping added to the music that surrounded you. body glistening from the sheer sweat on both of your body, how you like them to be.

mingyu knew you were close when he felt your walls clamping his length. “cum, princess. please cum for daddy.”

your legs tremble as you see stars behind your eyelids. body falls forward to him, hips still moving slowly and sloppily making him whine.

“p-please, princess. i’m so close, please. please let me cum.”

for a moment, you did forget about him still with his legs pressed to his body under you. when you heard his soft begging, you pulled away from him, making him whine more from the loss of your warmth. with the energy you had left, you went to her knees. his moans echoed throughout the room again as he felt your wet mouth wrapped around him. he let go of his thighs, letting it fall to your sides.

he doesn’t know if looking down is the right thing or not. with you looking up at him through your lashes and one of your hands barely wrapping around his grit, he groans louder than before. his hand went to your hair, about to make a makeshift ponytail before once again being stopped by you.

“keep your hands to yourself or i’ll stop.” you said, thumb pressing on the tip of his length.

mingyu shook his head frantically as he put his hand behind him, sitting on them as if he didn’t trust his limbs. and another high pitched moan slipped out of him as you once again put his member in your mouth, sucking just how he likes it.

if he’s in his dominant mode, he’ll be ashamed of the way he releases into your mouth. with a loud moan and shaking legs, he lets out his white in you, unconsciously jerking his hips to you. with rapid “thank you”s, he comes down from his high.

he was catching his breath when he felt you again climb onto his lap. this time, no hungry kisses or dominating touch. just you cuddling up to his big body, just how you both like it.

“thank you, little one.” he left a peck on your head. “did you enjoy it?”

you nodded before looking up at him, “but just once in a while.”

he giggled, loving the way you turned back into his little baby after basically fucking him until his mind fogged up. “okay, let’s get us cleaned up, then.”

#witherednotes #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenarios

[dkfile]

gold rush

❛ everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. ❜ ━gold rush, taylor swift

word count | 19.2k (19,220) genre | fluff, angst, slowburn, exes to lovers, summer au ━ gn!reader

though there is no denying that kim mingyu was once a big part of your life, you believe that the pain he’s left you with is long gone; he is a memory, and that is all he will ever be. but then you get home, and he’s there, and maybe you have to reconsider just how much you’ve moved on.

★ warnings | brief mention of injury/scars/blood, alcohol consumption, suggestive if u squint, seokmin and minghao meddling, i think thats it tell me if i missed anything ★ author’s note | it’s finally here!!! this took me longer than i thought it would, i really thought it’d only be on the shorter side (shorter side in dkfile means >10k words) but. this is literally 19k. i lied to myself i guess. hope u guys enjoy tho !! lmk your thoughts :D

In movies, summer signifies new beginnings. The sun’s radiance is bright enough to blind, the ocean glimmers underneath its attention, the sand is warm to the touch. Ice cream drips down your fingers and makes them uncomfortably sticky against the humid breeze. Some people come home, others leave, but they all have the intent of starting their new chapter right. Summer is about growth. It is about moving on.

It is not supposed to be about Kim Mingyu.

seok ☀️ > can you pls pick up the phone > i’m sorryyyyy that i lied to you ☹️ > forgive me!! 😓💔🙏 > do you need me to grovel? because i will

You scowl.

When you came back from college, welcomed home with open arms by your family and childhood friends, you were reassured that a certain boy — with golden skin, starry eyes, and your crushed heart in the palm of his hand — would not be back in town. Foolishly, you looked past the mischievous quirk of Minghao’s eyebrow, and the sheepish wince painted across Seokmin’s face when you expressed your delight at having them all to yourself.

There would be no ex-boyfriend to thwart your plans, no boy to drown your summer in gasoline and set it aflame.

But then your shopping cart bumps into someone else’s at the store, and when you look up, the bane of your existence is staring at you, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

You vaguely remember the rather sharp inhale Seokmin took from behind you before you scoffed, incredulous and irritated, and harshly stated that Seokmin could finish grocery shopping by himself. You do not want to associate yourself with the traitor and the liar your so-called best friend has become.

Seokmin claims you’re being rather overdramatic. He swears he didn’t know Mingyu would be home so soon.

(“So soon?” you repeated when you picked up Seokmin’s fifteenth call ten minutes ago. “What does that mean? That you knew he was always going to be coming home?”

“…Listen—”

You hung up).

You find yourself sitting in the skatepark a few blocks from the mart, legs curled up on the bench and your chin resting on your knees. As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the occupants slowly pack up and leave, until the sounds of wheels against concrete is replaced with the murmur of cicadas and the laughter from the occasional passerby.

The warmth of the wood seeps through your denim shorts, percolating across your body until you are hot underneath your clothes. Despite the heat of the day giving way to the mellow cool of the evening, sweat forms on your upper lip and hairline, an indicator that it’s too hot to sit out here and contemplate every choice you’ve made up until this moment.

Still, you stay; you’re not sure why. You never quite liked it here, had only enjoyed it when you were surrounded by your friends and their saccharine laughter. The scars on your leg are painful reminders of the multiple falls you took when he was teaching you how to skate.

(Sometimes, on bad nights, you still feel the ghost of his fingers on your waist and your wrist, guiding you on his board while children much younger than you zoom by).

You never left this area without a new injury, whether it be a bruise on the shin or a scrape on the knee.

Memories of what once was linger.

You do not remember what you had for breakfast this morning, or what show Seokmin recommended to you a few hours ago, or what car your dad was planning on buying.

But you remember Mingyu. You remember his smile and his sweet cologne and the way his hair fell into his eyes whenever his shoulders shook with laughter. You remember what it feels like to be in his bubble; it feels like you’ve been dumped into molasses — you become aware of your every move, and time begins to move just a little slower, as if you are trying to savour every moment before he disappears.

You feel him before you hear him.

That’s why you’re not surprised when he talks, his voice soft from where he stands behind the bench. You imagine him with his hands tucked into his pockets, staring at the empty ramps (he is not looking at you. You would know if he was looking at you. His gaze would burn more than a thousand wildfires).

“I thought they told you.”

Your voice comes out hoarse. “They told me you weren’t coming home.”

“Oh,” he doesn’t sound surprised, but he stills offers an apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You’re not the one who lied.”

A quiet heartbeat passes. “Right.”

Your fingers drum against your calf. “How did you find me, anyway? Did Seokmin track my location?”

“No,” he murmurs. His voice has been quiet ever since he arrived. “I just… figured you’d be here.”

You swallow a large lump in your throat. “Oh,” you say weakly.

“Yeah,” he responds. There’s a brief moment of contemplation. He knows there’s a line he cannot cross, but he tries anyway. “Do you want a ride home?”

Your response is immediate and firm, and its harshness is enough to break the calm façade he unintentionally built around the both of you. “No. I’ll walk.”

“It’s hot,” he argues.

“I don’t need you, Mingyu,” you bite back. He clamps his mouth shut as unease settles in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t— I’ll be fine.”

He seems to hesitate; you aren’t sure how long he stands behind you, searching for a response.

Then, as if it pains him to say: “Okay.”

“Damn,” Minghao falls into Seokmin’s shoulder as they both laugh at your stumbling, “You suck!”

“Hey,” Mingyu barks, though he looks more like a puppy than the intimidating boy he imagines himself to be, “it’s not like you’re any better!”

You know Mingyu’s only saying this to make you feel better — Minghao is, arguably, the best on wheels out of the four of you — but the sentiment still warms your heart. At your smile, Mingyu’s annoyed mien is replaced with a grin of his own. He reaches over to squeeze your cheek.

“I believe in you,” he declares.

“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing,” you begin, stretching out your arms to balance on the board, “I don’t think I’m ever going to master this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Mingyu huffs, hands hovering over your sides once the skateboard begins to move, eyes trained on your feet. “By the time we get out of here, you’re gonna give Minghao a run for his money.”

You sigh. Mingyu was always one for wishful thinking.

“You really think I’ll be able to do this by myself in half an hour?”

Mingyu hums hopefully.

The sun has already begun to set, and you had promised your parents you’d be home for dinner. With fall around the corner, the days are slowly becoming shorter, a constant reminder that your last year of school is upon you. Next are college applications, then admissions, and conversations about your future that you aren’t quite ready to have.

But you’ll worry about that when you need to.

Because right now, there is the skate park, the late summer breeze, and Mingyu, who shrieks along with you when you lose balance. His arms grab onto your waist, bringing you back to the ground as the skateboard continues to roll down the concrete. Right now, there is the furrow of his eyebrows, the mixture of disappointment and amusement swirling in his eyes, and his forehead pressed against yours.

“I thought I told you not to zone out,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

You shrug, pecking his nose before pulling away to chase after the skateboard. “You’re so dramatic. The worst I could’ve gotten was a scraped knee.”

Mingyu scoffs. “So? I don’t want you getting hurt under my watch.”

“You’re my boyfriend, not my babysitter.”

“Well, I might as well be,” he argues. “You’re more accident prone than me.”

Laughing, you jokingly say, “Guess that means you’ve finally met your match, Kim.”

People used to say you and Mingyu were made for each other.

It is something you’ve tried to forget, but the fact follows you around like a shadow. This town, small and aware of the breakup, can’t seem to wrap their heads around the fact that you and Mingyu are no longer extensions of one another.

At some point, you hoped that people would understand your discomfort whenever he’s mentioned, but the fact of the matter is that you and Mingyu had been a package deal from when you were in diapers up until the end of senior year, and when you’re intertwined with someone for that long, it’s just as hard for you as it is for everyone to forget that part of yourself.

When you stop by the pharmacy, you don’t ask about him (you have no reason to), but the pharmacist still informs you that you’ve just missed him; when you see your mother’s colleague, she gushes about how nice it must be to see him after all this time (you do not have the heart to tell her otherwise); when you buy a pack of Sprite bottles for Mrs. Boo’s annual summer barbecue, the clerk asks if you know if he’s going to be in attendance (you say you have not talked to him in three years, and the clerk tilts his head in confusion).

Your patience has been worn thin by the time you arrive at Seokmin’s house.

“Hello, sunshine,” Minghao drawls when his attention settles on you. He watches you scowl before setting your bag on the armchair and taking a seat beside him on the couch. “How was your morning?”

“I’m ditching,” you declare, brushing off his question.

“Ditching what?”

“The barbecue,” you deadpan. “What else?”

“Now, why the hell would you do that?”

“Minghao,” you say blankly, “would it kill you to use your brain for once?”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

Seokmin enters the living room, carrying three cans of iced tea, all of which he places on the coffee table. He throws you and Minghao a look of annoyance. “If you guys are going to argue, please don’t do it under my roof,” he gestures around the room, “it kills the vibes.”

You roll your eyes but mutter an apology under your breath. Beside you, Minghao quips, “Y/N decided ditching the barbecue would be a good idea.”

You’re used to Seokmin’s mannerisms by now, so you don’t even flinch when he waves his arms around in disbelief. “What?” he exclaims, crouching in front of your legs and taking your hands into his. “Why the hell would you do that?”

Minghao hums. “That’s what I said.”

“Put that brain of yours to good use.”

“They said that to me, too.”

Seokmin huffs, knowing better than to let your quips deter him. “Please don’t tell me this is about Mingyu.”

You quirk an eyebrow, to which Seokmin scoffs, letting go of your hands before plopping down in front of you, even though there’s a free spot on the other side of Minghao. They scrutinize you for a moment, Seokmin’s eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a frown while Minghao stares blankly, showing no emotion or an indication of what’s going on inside his head.

It does nothing to make you feel comfortable.

You aren’t a stranger to Minghao and Seokmin’s examinations — they’re experts when it comes to breaking you down with analyzations and calculating eyes. But you haven’t been home in three years, and being on the receiving end of something as intense as this is startling, if not a little troubling.

(Being the only one enduring this, absent of a certain boy, is unsettling as well, though you’d rather die than admit that).

Seokmin nudges your ankle with his knee. “You know you’ll regret not going to this thing,” he says, eyes sparkling with amusement when you bristle. “You haven’t seen the Boo’s in forever, too. They’d be sad if you miss it.”

“Imagine how Seungkwan would feel,” Minghao adds, poking your arm to look at him, and continues to do so when you don’t. “He’d be miserable.”

You pout. “I doubt it.”

“You were in the same badminton club for five years,” Minghao argues softly, “I think he would be.”

Seokmin states, “And you’re not the type of person to let someone down, are you?” He pauses for a moment before adding, “Well, other than me and Minghao, on occasion.”

You cross your arms, leaning further into the couch as you avoid eye contact. You’re adamant on skipping, but Seokmin and Minghao know you better than anyone else, so they know exactly how to word their sentences and fabricate their bribes to get you to agree. They know, as long as you keep this up, the entirety of your summer will be spent in the four walls in your house, the only place in town guaranteed to not have Kim Mingyu.

And it may be pathetic, really, to continue letting him affect you like this.

(But it has always been you and Mingyu, Mingyu and you. He is part of your soul. There is a void in your chest that’s the shape of him. How are you supposed to erase all memory of someone like that?)

A painted fingernail pokes your side, a knee bumps your shin. Your friends look at you, hopeful.

A sigh.

“Okay, fine.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You hum, collapsing on the bench beside Seungkwan, his newly dyed platinum blonde hair appearing orange under the setting sun. Sweat trinkles down his frame but his breathing remains even, showing no sign that he just finished playing a rather intense badminton game a few minutes prior.

“What are you guys doing after you graduate?”

You take a sip from your water bottle in hopes the liquid will make it easier to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You have never minded these types of conversations, though the reminder of the future creates a pit in your stomach that only continues to grow larger with each passing day. And, knowing Seungkwan, you know there is more to his question than college applications and major declarations.

“What do you mean?”

“You, Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin,” Seungkwan elaborates. “You’re all going to different colleges, right?”

Pursing your lips, you risk a glance at him, only to find that he’s staring ahead. “Minghao’s going abroad, yeah, and Seokmin’s thinking of staying here,” you explain, voice low. “Mingyu and I are going to be together, though.”

At this, Seungkwan turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. “You two are going to the same university?”

There is something about the way he asks this — unsure, withdrawn, and cautious. You see the flare of uncertainty in his eyes, and it’s enough for your heartrate to quicken.

“Yeah. Why?”

He opens and closes his mouth. There is war in his head. Very rarely do you see Seungkwan at a loss for words. He is usually so quick on his feet, so witty, so talkative, and the silence that falls between you both is painful and nerve-wracking.

Should you be worried?

“Nothing,” he eventually settles for, ignoring the silent question in your eyes. “I was just thinking about how nice that would be.”

You decide to believe him. It is so much easier to be ignorant, you think.

(But it is also much more painful later. You do not allow yourself to dwell).

“Why’d you ask, anyway?”

“I was just talking to Vernon and Chan, and I realized we all want different things,” Seungkwan sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “We won’t all be together much longer. It feels… weird.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you guys will be able to stay in touch?”

You shrug hopefully. “I think so,” you say, shifting your gaze to the horizon, “we’ve been friends forever. It’d take a lot to break that up.”

The scent of tangerines and aftershave fill your nose as you’re ambushed by a boy bursting with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he resides in your arms, squeezing you tight as he spews angry statements that all come from a place of love.

Seungkwan is grinning by the time you pull away, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you further into the backyard to catch up with other people. He doesn’t dare leave your side — he’s convinced you’ll slip away and disappear if he does — and you’re thankful; you don’t have the energy to steamroll through conversations today.

Though it’s humid, the warmth you’re engulfed in is a product of the Boo household. It is homely and welcoming and an embodiment of everything you’ve ever missed about home all in one lot. You should be happy to be here, surrounded by people you haven’t seen in years as a consequence of your avoidance, pulled into an endless pool of memories and nostalgia.

But you cannot shake it, the uneasiness.

You feel it as soon as the gate swings open and he enters, carrying two large Tupperware containers, one filled with brownies and the other with lemon squares. You feel it when he flashes his signature smile, canines as pearly white and blinding as you remember, and it still fills you with a sickening sense of joy.

“I’m gonna go get a brownie,” Seungkwan announces, loud enough to snap you out of it. “Do you want one?”

“No,” you decline, forcing yourself to smile even when you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. “Thank you, though.”

Seungkwan nods and makes his way to the refreshments table, but not before wagging a finger in warning, “Don’t leave without saying goodbye!”

You frantically search the backyard, looking for any sign of Minghao or Seokmin, or maybe a superhero of some sorts to pull you away so you don’t disintegrate in the presence of Mingyu.

In your periphery, you see him excuse himself from conversations, eyes flickering towards you with a determination you aren’t unfamiliar with. It’s remorseful and desperate, and it reminds you of an instance in the skatepark a few years ago, you in his sweater and drowning in heartbreak and sorrow.

Someone swings their arm over your shoulder.

“Hey,” Minghao murmurs, steering you further into the backyard, away. You can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you grit your teeth.

“You’re gonna have to talk to him at some point,” he says, dropping his arm once he’s decided you’re far enough. “I feel like it’d do the both of you some good.”

“I have nothing to say to him,” you protest. “And I’m sure he has nothing to say to me.”

“I really don’t think that’s the truth.”

“It is.”

“You were in love with him,” he says. It slips out of his lips so easily, as if he were talking about the weather or the shapes of the clouds. You wish you could mutter an admission like that — accept something like that — the way he had. “And he was in love with you, and it ended badly. That is more than enough of a reason to talk.”

It ended badly. You always associated a statement like that with relationships that ended in screaming matches or slamming doors. Ones where a simple argument escalated into one that finalized a conclusion, ones where there was nothing in the room but anger and exhaustion that overpowered the love.

You’ve never associated it with how your relationship with Mingyu ended. The sun was rising, and birds were chirping, and you were standing in the same spot you asked him out, the same spot he asked you to prom, the same spot he murmured three simple words into your ear before you fell asleep on his shoulder on the park bench.

It didn’t end because of a fight. Sometimes, you wish it had — maybe then you’d feel differently about everything, about him.

It just came to a halt, and he had been the one to step on the brakes.

“Talk to him,” Minghao urges again, sympathetic but firm. “You don’t have to do it now, but just do it before you leave. Don’t you think you deserve some closure?”

You find him talking to some of your classmates from your graduating class. They hang onto every word he says, face alit with curiosity and admiration, because some things never change, and he has been put on a pedestal since birth. In the hallways of the high school, his name is on the trophies, he’s beaming in most of the pages in the yearbook, he is this town’s pride and joy.

But you know him.

You see him smile and you’re not blind to the discomfort and falseness behind it. He doesn’t want to be there, you think, and your thoughts are proven correct when he glances up to look at you, and his mask slips by a fraction. For a moment, you see sincerity, a glimpse of the Mingyu you once knew.

Someone taps him on the shoulder and, as you predicted, he puts the mask back on.

You hate that you still know him like the back of your hand.

He is leaning against your frame, playing with your fingers, when he asks the question.

“How do you do it?” he wonders, looking up briefly to meet your questioning gaze before returning his focus on your hands, tapping them to the beat of an overplayed pop song.

His head has dipped down, allowing you to rest your cheek against it. “Do what?”

“Talk to everyone like that,” he says, using his free hand to gesture towards the backyard filled with the people you’re currently hiding from. The both of you sit on the staircase by the front entrance, away from any prying eyes. “They were hanging onto every word you said. They’re practically in love with you.”

You snicker. “What, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

Mingyu matches your teasing tone with a playful lilt of his own. “Oh, I am. I’ve got some competition.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “Don’t be too upset when I pick Mrs. Boo over you.”

He hums. “No promises.”

A blanket of comfortable silence falls over you. He fidgets with your hands, brushing his thumb over your nails, and tracing the lines of your palms with his index finger. You close your eyes, listening to the fading chatter of the town and the faint sizzling of meat on the grill.

“I should be asking you that, y’know,” you eventually mumble. Mingyu’s movements stop. “You’ve got the whole town wrapped around your finger. I’m pretty sure everybody loves you.”

To get you to open your eyes, he pokes your cheek. “The same could be said about you,” he responds. “Besides, people only like the idea of me. What would they say if they found out my room’s never clean and I cycle through the same two pairs of socks year-round?”

You wrinkle your nose. “God, remind me to buy you a pack of socks from the store next time I’m at the mall.”

He laughs, an unpleasant snort involuntarily escaping his nose. “I’m serious. They don’t like me. They like the illusion.”

You finally look at him, meeting his softened gaze and mellow smile. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

“No, not really,” he shrugs, but there is a minuscule halt in his voice that you don’t catch. “The only opinion that matters to me is yours.”

You’re convinced Seokmin and Minghao are saints.

(You would never admit this, though. They would never shut up if you did).

For the entire 40-minute car ride, they manage to keep the calm, filling the silence with anecdotes about people you have only heard about through irregular video calls, and arguments about who should be in control of the music. Eventually, they settle for handing the aux over to Mingyu, who meets your gaze through the rearview mirror before clicking on a familiar playlist and looking out the window.

After the first five songs, your face heats up as you remember bashfully making him a playlist back in high school. You settle into your spot, hoping the battered polyester of Seokmin’s car seats will swallow you whole.

When you agreed to tag along on their trip out of town and into the city, Minghao and Seokmin didn’t bother hiding their surprise, especially since they made it clear Mingyu was going to be in attendance. Seungkwan even offered to let you carpool with him, Vernon, and Chan, but you declined — you might as well suck it up, seeing as you and Mingyu are going to be in the same vicinity for the rest of the summer.

Still, you can’t help but regret your decisions as you squirm in the backseat behind Seokmin, who’s fiddling with the A/C, listening intently to a story Minghao’s telling about some scandal involving two classmates he’s never talked to before. You’re thankful for their nosiness, because it gives you some level of comfort and helps you ignore Mingyu’s fleeting glances from the passenger seat.

“The professor’s a hardass so everyone was convinced they were fucking,” Minghao says, leaning forward in his seat. “Turns out he was just her stepdad, who suffered from a chronic case of favouritism.”

Seokmin snorts. “Out of all the conclusions to jump to, that’s the one they picked?”

Minghao quirks an eyebrow. “You of all people should not be saying that.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

As Seokmin and Minghao begin to bicker for the nth time that evening, your gaze slides from the window to the Snoopy trinket hanging from the rearview mirror to the mirror itself, and you can’t find it in you to be surprised when you see Mingyu already looking at you. An unsaid question dances in his eyes, wary and timid.

Are you sure this is okay?

You gulp, worrying your lips between your teeth before shrugging. Yes, it’s fine.

He raises his eyebrow. This is the first time you’ve acknowledged him tonight.

Really?

You shrug again. Really.

And you leave it at that, turning again to look outside.

Seokmin takes fifteen minutes to find a decent parking spot, so when you finally enter the nightclub, you’re prepared for the scowl on Seungkwan’s face when he spots the four of you. He scolds Seokmin first and receives a flick to his forehead in response, which only angers him more. Before you can meet his wrath, you slip away, moving to enter the booth and letting Mingyu and Minghao get the brunt of Seungkwan’s rage and disappointment.

“Y/N!” Chan exclaims when you settle next to him, wrapping his arms around your torso to give you a brief hug before sliding you his unfinished pint of beer. “I haven’t talked to you in forever!”

When you take a sip of the alcohol, you try your best to hide your grimace when the lukewarm liquid hits your tongue. “I talked to you at the barbecue two days ago.”

“Well, I missed you. Sue me,” he throws his hands up in exasperation. Across from you, Vernon hides his amused smile behind his own pint. “You come home after, what, three years? Forgive me if I’ve become clingy.”

“Didn’t know you missed me so much.”

Vernon’s eyes are dripping with mirth. “He went broke from using all his coins at the fountain in town square,” he says, laughing when Chan shoots him daggers. “He went there whenever he was free and was wishing you’d come back—”

“He’s exaggerating,” Chan huffs. In retaliation to Vernon’s teasing, Chan takes his friend’s pint of beer and chugs it down until there is nothing left. “I only wished whenever Mingyu was home, he was so mopey, he would’ve been happier if you were here.”

You freeze.

“Okay,” Vernon interjects, pushing himself out of his seat to move all the empty glasses away from Chan, as if doing so will help the situation. He throws you an apologetic look, though it lacks his usual sincerity. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Chan whines. “But I wanted to do tequila shots with everyone.”

“Drink this first,” Vernon instructs.

Chan grumbles but accepts the glass of water Vernon gives him.

Before you can say something about Chan’s offhanded comment, the rest of your friends climb into the booth, and Vernon and Chan ease their way into their conversation as soon as everyone’s seated. You lean back, cowering behind Minghao and Chan’s frames as Seungkwan makes a joke you barely catch and Minghao repeats every story he told on the journey here.

You try your best to engage in the conversation, really, but it’s been so long since you’ve been with this group of people. As they discuss events you were never there for, snippets of a summer you weren’t part of, the awkwardness begins to build in your stomach, because it was never supposed to be like this, you were never supposed to feel left out.

If the person you were a few years ago saw you now, you know they’d be a little disappointed. Maybe they’d pity you, too.

The consequences, you suppose, of never coming home.

Sighing, you gesture for Minghao to slip out of the booth so you can get out. You say something about going to the bar to get another drink, and he nods, squeezing your shoulder — his silent way of telling you to stay safe — before letting you go.

You try your best to avoid any stumbling individuals, wrinkling your nose and murmuring apologies that get lost in the noise when you can’t avoid bumping into someone. With a glance over your shoulder, you make sure your friends aren’t paying any attention to you before making your way towards the exit.

It’s a warm evening, but it’s cooler than it is inside, and you relish in the temporary peace before you have to inevitably make your way back. They’ll notice if you’re gone too long, and they’ve always been easy to worry.

“Hey.”

A tall frame enters your periphery, clad in a loose white t-shirt and light-washed jeans, staring ahead at the passing cars. You ignore the way his face falls when you shuffle further to the side, away from him.

Your history aside, Kim Mingyu has always run hot. Before, you wouldn’t mind — before, you would’ve been clinging onto him — but time has passed, and you aren’t the same people you were back in high school.

A part of you misses it. There is something so comfortable about Mingyu that you can only describe in insignificant memories, like when he moves you to the side furthest from the road, or when he wraps his scarf around your neck because the cold is nipping at your nose, or when he buys mini versions of your skincare products to keep in his house for when you’re too tired to drive back home.

It's almost homely. Like a hug, maybe.

(You missed it a lot, at first, his aura. Whenever you needed it most, you’d lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, and instead of sheep lulling you into slumber, it’s him. Way back when, he’d rub circles into your wrist to help you fall asleep, and you think of it then, because it used to bring you so much comfort).

(In your dreams, you murmur his name — Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu — like a prayer, like an incantation).

“I’m sorry.”

You jolt in surprise. Not at his voice, but at the apology. “Why?”

“You’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” you protest with a frown. “I’m just… I couldn’t think of how to contribute to the conversation, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says gently. He looks relieved. “So, you’re okay that I’m here?”

“Yeah, I mean, they’re your friends, too.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

A quiet moment passes, and you see the relief begin to crumble.

“Yeah, I don’t mind that you’re here,” you offer. The next sentence slips out before you can stop it, “I’m glad, actually.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “You are?”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, wincing. “A little. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Before this month, you only saw him through Instagram, glimpses of his life that were curated to make his life seem special and happy and void of any worries. You only heard about him — the real him — when his name accidentally slipped out of your friends’ or your family’s mouths.

You can’t help but think that it wasn’t enough.

“How’s school?” he asks, subtly moving so he’s slightly facing you.

“It’s alright,” you answer. “Stressful, but that’s a given. My roommate got a boyfriend, though. He leaves his shit everywhere and he acts like he lives there.”

A soft chuckle leaves his lips. “Yeah, I know, Minghao told me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Oh? Why would he tell you that?”

“I asked,” he shrugs. You finally, really look at him now, and your confusion is evident. He seems unfazed by it, but you can see the crimson slowly climbing up his neck. “I ask about you sometimes.”

“Why?”

You know why, you think. What’s the point in asking when you already know the reason behind his actions and intentions? Your soul is intertwined with his, it has been for a while, but you can’t seem to accept it.

You still hurt.

Minghao’s right. Maybe the closure is needed.

“Because I care about you,” he confesses, trying his best to hide his yearning. “You were my best friend, and I want to know if you’re still doing okay.”

Your fingers shake, so you stuff them into the pockets of your sweater. “And what do they tell you when you ask?”

He hesitates, scanning your face while he plans his best course of action. The wounds haven’t closed, the stitches were poorly sewn, and blood spills out of the cuts he left like the damage he’s done is fresh.

“They tell me that I should ask you myself,” he says, “But sometimes they take pity on me, and they’ll tell me things you’ve told them. Like the roommate situation, or the barista who fucked up your order, or how you scored the highest on an exam— congratulations, by the way.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Thank you,” you reply meekly.

“It’s no problem,” he responds. Contemplation flickers across his face before he adds, rather reluctantly, “I’m proud of you, you know.”

You feel the same way you did when he first confessed, like an immature and blubbering teenager, full of hope and optimism and dreams of what could be.

“Mingyu—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts. “I’ve seen the stuff you’ve posted, and I should’ve congratulated you then, I know that, but—”

You give him a small smile. “Better late than never.”

He flashes you a grin, the same one you’d longed to see, the one you used to humiliate yourself for. You would’ve done anything to see him smile like that — a smile that isn’t put on just for show, but one that’s genuine and blinding. It’s something reserved for certain people, those who have seen through the illusion that was created for him, those who have seen it and still love him for who he is, despite his faults and imperfections.

He nods. “Better late than never.”

Despite your best efforts to squash your delight, your heart escapes your desperate grip, and it soars.

It’s cold.

The ground has frozen over, leaving jagged pieces of ice all over the concrete. The snow, previously a crisp white, has turned brown due to its contact with cars. The wind is cold, persistent, it refuses to let you forget about its existence with each gust.

On the other side of the parking lot, you see your friends whisper amongst themselves before one of them throws his hands up in exasperation and stomps over to his car, a beat-up vehicle with torn polyester seats and discarded bubblegum wrappers on the floor. He’s grumbling something under his breath as he settles into the driver’s seat and leaves without so much as a goodbye.

It’s cold, and something’s wrong.

Your eyes find Mingyu’s and your stomach sinks.

Something’s wrong, but you’re unsure whether you’ll find out what it is tonight.

“Hey,” you say once he’s in earshot. He stiffens at the sound of your voice. “Is Seokmin okay?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I’ll just apologize tomorrow morning.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing big.” He tightens the scarf around his neck and turns to walk towards his car. You follow, because with Mingyu you always do, and look at him over the roof as he digs in his pockets for his keys.

You clench your jaw, uncomfortable (when was the last time you’ve felt unpleasant around him? Things have started getting weirder since everyone started sending in their college applications). You wonder if you should push for answers, but you stop yourself before you can open your mouth. You’ve never done something like this before — Mingyu has always told you everything; secrets between the two of you are scarce.

He unlocks the doors. “Is it okay if we stop by the convenience store before I bring you home? I gotta buy some ramen for my sister.”

He looks tired. Maybe you can ask him about what happened another day.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nods in thanks and enters before another gust of wind hits — it’s harsher this time, as if it’s sending you a warning.

You really should’ve brought your own scarf.

When your family yells for you to open the door, the last thing you expect to see on the other side of it is Kim Mingyu.

Your ire is gone in a flash.

“Um…”

Mingyu winces. “Hi. Sorry, I— your brother called me, he said it was an emergency, and I was worried, so—”

“Mingyu!” your brother yells excitedly, running out of the kitchen before throwing his arms around Mingyu’s torso. “You’re here! Thank God, Y/N was ruining the cake—”

You scoff loudly. “What the fuck, Daeshim? You’re the one who put in salt instead of sugar—"

“Get in, get in!” Daeshim says cheerily, throwing you a glare. You narrow your eyes in return, ignoring how Mingyu’s hands brush against yours when he makes his way towards the kitchen after toeing off his shoes. Daeshim pokes you. “I’m telling Mom you swore.”

“What are you, five?”

Daeshim sticks his tongue out. “Add some money in the swear jar.”

“I hate you,” you deadpan. Your eyes flicker to the white sneakers neatly placed by the other footwear, worn from years of use. “Why did you ask him to come here?”

Your brother shrugs. “He usually stops by, anyway, to help for Mom’s birthday.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically, gesturing for you to move so he can shut the front door. “Are you sure you guys broke up? Cause when you didn’t come home for the summer, he would still check up on us and stuff, and he’d always ask about you. It was so weird. It felt like I was a child of divorce.”

You smack him on the head. “Can you not say that about my relationship?”

“Well, it’s not a relationship anymore,” he quips.

You tense, crossing your arms so you don’t give Daeshim the delight of seeing your clenched fists. “You know what I meant.”

“If you don’t want to stay, then go. But he’s not going anywhere until Mom’s cake is done.”

“Why not? We were doing just fine without him.”

“Are you serious? You know he’s better at baking than you ever will be.”

“Okay, rude.”

“It’s true—”

“Uh, guys?” Both of your heads snap to wear Mingyu peeks around the corner, his amusement thinly veiled behind his distress. “Your kitchen’s a mess.”

Daeshim grins, pointing his finger at you. “Y/N’s fault!” he exclaims before heading to the kitchen.

You poke your cheek with your tongue in annoyance, watching your sibling nonchalantly disappear from your line of sight before you focus on Mingyu. He’s leaning against the wall now, hands shoved in his sweatpants and his head tilted to the side. He looks at you like he’s studying you, trying to find a sign of any kind that he needs to leave.

He must’ve found nothing because he stays.

You clear your throat, straightening your posture. “It was not my fault.”

His lips quirk up. “Oh, I’m sure.”

He disappears before you can retort.

(He’s always been good at that — leaving before you have a chance to fight).

When you finally join them in the kitchen, there’s a familiar baby pink apron around Mingyu’s neck, already splattered with cake batter as he whisks something in a steel bowl. Daeshim is crouched in front of the fridge, putting containers of leftovers on the floor in search of something. You kick his leg with your foot, throwing him off balance, and you both give each other matching scowls.

“Don’t put the Tupperware on the floor.”

He rolls his eyes but picks them up without argument, placing them on the empty counter by the fridge. You don’t understand why he couldn’t have done that in the first place, but Daeshim is notorious for making terrible decisions.

You don’t miss the way Mingyu’s eyes soften when he sees you. “You’re gonna help?”

“I came with the intention to supervise Daeshim and make sure he doesn’t accidentally set something on fire, but…” you shrug, “I could help, yeah.”

“Perfect,” Mingyu grins. “Can you get the baking pan?”

You do as he asks, handing it over to him over the kitchen island. “You’re gonna put it in the oven already? Daeshim was complaining about the batter so much he almost convinced me there was no saving it.”

Mingyu snorts as he cautiously pours the mixture into the pan. “He was just being overdramatic—”

Daeshim snaps from his spot near the fridge. “Are you guys just gonna talk about me as if I’m not here?”

“—it was only a little runny,” he assures, making sure not a drop of batter ends up on the floor or the countertop. Once he’s done, he brushes his hands on the apron and wipes his forehead with his arm. “Can you put it in the oven? You guys preheated it, right?”

You hum in confirmation, carefully placing the tin in the oven as Mingyu steps over Daeshim to try and get to the sink. You frown at your brother, who’s been scouring for something since you walked in. “What the hell are you even looking for?”

“Strawberry milk.”

“I drank it all.”

Daeshim huffs. “Of course you did.” He stands, slamming the fridge door with a dramatic flick of his wrist before hastily making his way out of the kitchen and towards the exit. “I’m gonna go to the convenience store to get some.”

“Wha— No, you have to help clean—”

“Can’t hear you!”

There’s a few more footsteps and the sound of Daeshim struggling to put his shoes on before the door inevitably slams shut.

You don’t let the shock of your brother’s irritating audacity bother you for too long. The way your fingers swipe through your phone to find his contact is lightning quick, but the first call is sent to voicemail and before you can even try his cell a second time, you find that you’re blocked.

Prick.

Mingyu’s humming catches your attention. You look up from your phone to find him with his back against the sink. “Voicemail?”

“Blocked.”

Mingyu snorts. “Of course.”

You send him an awkward smile before turning away so you don’t have to face him. You and Mingyu haven’t spoken since last week on that trip out of town; after the two of you slipped back inside, no words were exchanged except for an apprehensive goodnight when Seokmin dropped you off at home.

With friends as nosy as your own, privacy is hard to come by, but now, in their absence, there’s nothing more you want than a buffer. The tension’s become more palpable without a third party, and your palms are getting clammy at just the thought of searching for an excuse to kick Mingyu out of the house without hurting his feelings.

(Why do you care? He hurt you first, didn’t he?)

“Hey,” Mingyu calls out tentatively. “Do you want me to help clean up? It’s a mess in here.” When you don’t reply, he adds, “I don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

You take a look at the kitchen around you and decide that you don’t want him to leave, either.

“Okay.”

Mingyu grins. “Okay.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find a system that’s not messy or chaotic or involves stepping into the other’s path — you and Mingyu have always been like that, like a cohesive unit. The feeling that shoots through your veins at the realization that you still are is nothing short of euphoric.

Before you know it, the kitchen is clean. The surface sparkles as Mingyu swipes a finger at it to see if there’s anything he’s missed, looking up at you with fleeting disappointment.

You think he’s about to announce that it’s time for him to go, but he surprises you when what comes out of his mouth is a question instead.

“Can I ask you something?”

You press yourself against the counter, thankful for the kitchen island acting as a barrier between you both. “Sure.”

“If we…” he pauses. Regret already begins to fester in his skin, pulled down by the weight of his frown and the pinch in his eyebrows. “Uh, never mind.”

Your heart lurches in your ribcage. “Mingyu—”

“It’s fine,” he assures but his smile is tight, and his tone says otherwise, “I should probably head back. I’ll — uh — I’ll see you?”

You gnaw at your bottom lip. “Yeah,” you say, ignoring the way your heart begins to crack as Mingyu unties the apron and slips it over his head. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

A worrying cloud has attached itself to you, nibbling on every last bit of your sanity like a parasite. Because something is wrong, you’re sure of it, even if everyone around you acts otherwise. Seokmin still laughs and makes bad jokes, Minghao still scolds you for not bundling up more when it’s so cold outside, and Mingyu still attracts attention and reaches for your hand and pokes your cheek whenever you’re not paying enough attention to him.

Everything is normal.

(But…)

“Does this look stupid?” Mingyu asks, staring at the banner he’s hung up.

Minghao grabs a macaroon from the table and rearranges the assortment, so it looks like he never laid a finger on it. “Yes.”

Mingyu huffs before turning to you. “Is it really?”

“It’s a little crooked,” you say, taking your eyes off him for a moment when Minghao presses the macaroon into your palm after making a face to suggest he doesn’t like it.

As Mingyu assesses the best way to fix the Happy Birthday! banner, Minghao starts poking at the pile of presents. You frown, kicking his ankle with your foot in an attempt to get him to stop. He only flicks your shoulder in response.

“Don’t touch those,” you hiss.

“I’m just trying to guess what other people got him,” Minghao retorts.

You deadpan, “You’re sizing up the competition.”

“Yes,” he confirms, “I need to make sure my present is better than all of these.”

“You got him a gift card to Party City. I didn’t even know they had those.”

“He can use it for Halloween!”

“Halloween is nine months away.”

“Oh, whatever,” Minghao grumbles. “Seungkwan will find some sort of use for it. All that matters is that my present isn’t the worst one.” He turns to you, jabbing a finger at your shoulder. “Hey, wait, what did you get him?”

You push his wrist as a scowl takes over your previous amused expression. “What’s it to you?”

“You’re a horrible gift-giver.”

“That’s not true!” you object, immediately turning to walk over to Mingyu, who’s staring at the banner in distress. “Gyu! I need to ask you something—”

“Nuh-uh, you can’t ask him, he’ll agree with you!”

You mockingly pout at Minghao before tugging Mingyu’s sleeve. “Hey, babe, question.”

Mingyu’s more than happy to have his attention on something else, letting his hands that were previously taping up the banner fall onto your shoulders. “What’s up?”

“I’m a good gift-giver, right?”

A moment passes. You scoff. Minghao cackles.

“Listen—”

“What the hell?”

“I love you and everything,” Mingyu begins, “but you really aren’t.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t,” he says quickly. “You love me. Even though you gave me a terrible birthday present last year.”

“You said you liked that apron!”

Minghao pipes up, “There’s a reason why he leaves it at your house, Y/N.”

You gasp, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend’s chest. Before you have a chance to defend your honour, Seokmin comes barrelling into the rented community centre, carrying two boxes of used decorations.

“Hey, guys,” he exhales, out of breath, dropping the large containers on the floor with a relieved huff. “So, the guests are coming in, like, twenty minutes, and Chan’s getting Seungkwan here in forty-five, so that should give us enough time to finish decorating… Mingyu, I thought I told you to deal with the banner?”

“It’s not cooperating with me,” your boyfriend whines.

Seokmin rolls his eyes before stomping over to the wall to fix the banner himself. Mingyu follows, grabbing the tape on his way so he can help. They don’t talk, at least not at a volume that allows you to hear what they’re saying — it’s only heated whispers that are exchanged, and you catch a glimpse of Mingyu’s nervous expression before it disappears completely.

He looks over his shoulder and flashes you a smile and it’s the same one you’ve seen him give everyone else. It’s a mask.

This isn’t something you should be on the receiving end of.

You open your mouth to say something — to say what, exactly, you aren’t sure — but Minghao tugs at your wrists and holds up a packet of balloons.

“We should start doing something before Seokmin gets mad,” he says before dragging you out of Seokmin and Mingyu’s earshot.

It’ll be okay, you think. This will pass over and your friend group will still be as close as you can be once university comes and you and Mingyu pack your bags, leaving this small town behind.

(But your worries refuse to let go; they’ve seeped into your bones, and you think their weight may crush you until you’re broken beyond repair. But ignorance is bliss, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve always said to yourself. And you’ve never needed to worry about something like this, whatever it is, before).

Everything will be fine.

Everything will not be fine, and you aren’t sure why Minghao thought it would be, but he was unbelievably wrong.

A rainy day has caused a picnic in the park to turn into a board game night at Seokmin’s house, and a homicidal game of Monopoly (a skit between Chan and Seokmin had been the last straw before Minghao flipped the board over) quickly transformed into a homicidal game of Twister. Before you is a jungle of limbs, and you’re glad that you were fast enough to volunteer to spin the wheel so you wouldn’t be caught in the inevitable crossfire.

“Left hand, red.”

Chan’s complaints come immediately.

“Chan,” Seungkwan warns, “I will kill you if you try to push me off.”

“I haven’t even moved yet.”

Seungkwan mocks his words with a high-pitched tone that barely resembles Chan’s voice before Minghao scolds them to cut it out and hurry up. Chan scoffs indignantly before moving his hand to a free red circle, struggling to find his balance.

“Are you good?” you ask blankly.

“Fine,” he grits out, “Just go so it gets to my turn faster.”

“Go slower!” Vernon exclaims from beside you, the first to be eliminated with his phone in one hand and a handful of popcorn in the other.

“Fuck you, Vernon!”

You spin the wheel. “Hao, right foot, green.”

Minghao huffs, but his new position, although uncomfortable, has given him the perfect opportunity to sabotage Seokmin. Almost as if they can sense your thoughts, your friends look at each other, one mischievous and the other in warning, before Minghao fakes a move, successfully luring Seokmin into his trap when the latter flinches and flails like a fish out of water before landing on his side.

Seokmin groans, sitting up and rubbing his ribcage as everyone laughs. He looks to you, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that always manage to worm him out of any undesirable situation he’s ever found himself in, but you only shrug helplessly in response. Seokmin sighs, flicking Minghao’s forehead, before making he settles beside you in all his pouty, wronged glory.

“It’s okay,” Vernon says from your other side, phone speaker pressed against his ear as a video of what just occurred plays on the phone. The sound of Seokmin’s yelp of surprise from 30 seconds ago causes your lips to twitch upwards. “You’ll get them next time!”

Seokmin leans into your shoulder. “Y/N! He’s making fun of me!”

You pat him reassuringly. “You’ll survive, don’t worry.”

“Hey!” Seungkwan interrupts. “Spin the wheel! It’s my turn.”

“Okay, okay! Right foot, blue.”

Much to your surprise, the rest of the game goes by smoothly with Seungkwan as the victor. Chan is beside himself, grumbling with his arms crossed as Seungkwan mimics the fall that led to his demise. When Chan opens his mouth to snap back, Minghao reaches over Vernon’s lap for the remote to increase the volume of the TV.

Once their argument has died down, Chan suggests, “Does anyone want to play Cards Against Humanity?”

“Lame, absolutely not,” Seokmin replies instantly. “I’m hungry.”

Seungkwan makes himself comfortable on the armchair. “Pizza should be coming soon. Who ordered it, anyway?” Mingyu raises his hand. “What did you get?”

“One cheese, one pepperoni.”

Chan boos, making a comment about the mediocre order which Mingyu skillfully brushes off, immune to his friends’ instigations after years of receiving them.

Minghao pokes Mingyu with his foot. “Can you check to see what time it’ll get here?”

Mingyu unlocks his phone while Vernon begins complaining about having to register for classes first thing tomorrow morning. His whines are halted, however, when Mingyu sharply inhales a breath and clears his throat sheepishly.

You raise an eyebrow. Everyone in the room knows what that means.

“Oh, what did you do now?”

“Seungkwan! What makes you think I did something wrong?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Mingyu shakes his head before turning his phone so the screen is facing all of you. The screen says the order’s been good to go for the past five minutes, but— “I accidentally ordered for pick-up, not delivery.”

Chan rolls his eyes. “Then go pick it up.”

“What?”

“Well, it says the order’s ready, right? Go pick it up.”

“But I’m so comfortable here.”

“And we’re hungry.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

“Whose fault is it that the pizza guy isn’t on Seokmin’s doorstep right now?”

Mingyu huffs, clearly having run out of retorts. He’s quick to admit defeat, pushing himself off the couch and adjusting the hoodie that’s ridden up his torso. You watch his every move, ignoring Minghao’s gaze.

Just as he begins searching for his car keys, Minghao pipes up, “You shouldn’t go alone, though.”

Mingyu frowns. “Huh? Why not?”

“Because you’re clumsy and you’ll drop something.”

“Can’t you guys put some faith in me—?”

“Y/N could go with you.”

Mingyu closes his mouth, trapping any more complaints behind his teeth. You stare at Minghao like a deer caught in headlights.

Vernon is the first to protest, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I don’t—”

“Mingyu’s clumsy and he’ll drop something,” Minghao repeats impatiently. He shares a glance with Seokmin, who seems to understand Minghao’s intentions in milliseconds.

“Yeah, and we can’t let Y/N go by themselves because the last time they drove they ran over my mailbox.”

You squawk in protest. “That was when I was sixteen, I—”

“And I’ve feared you every time you’ve gotten behind a wheel ever since,” Seokmin says. He swiftly dodges Seungkwan’s questioning nudge and Chan’s panic, giving you the biggest smile he can muster before letting his eyes land back on Minghao.

Minghao looks at you, apologetic and stern all at once. “The ride will only be, like, ten minutes. Five minutes there and back,” he shrugs, turning away to face the TV. “You’re both adults, you’ll be fine.”

You think you might strangle them.

“Okay,” Mingyu says from behind you. You look at him, he stares back. “We’ll be okay. Right?”

He’s offering you one last final chance to back out. Your fingers twitch at your side before you gulp, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

You’re shoved out the door before you can even blink, wearing Seokmin’s old Crocs instead of the sneakers you had arrived with (“These are faster to put on, make haste, make haste! Get out of here, I want my pizza!”). You sink further and further into the passenger seat as Mingyu pulls out of the driveway, trying your best to focus on anything besides him.

But it proves to be impossible. The air freshener is the same as it was all those years ago, the same cheap dog bobblehead is on the dashboard, the pack of gum he’s left in the cupholder is the same one he used to buy in bulk at the supermarket. Nothing in here has changed, as if the vehicle is stuck in time, refusing to move forward despite all the years that have passed.

Mingyu must’ve noticed you staring at the gum because he picks it up and hands it to you in silent offering. You shake your head, and he puts it down.

The awkwardness might as well eat you whole.

The radio does nothing to ease the tension when the next song that plays is about heartbreak and being left behind while everyone moves on. Your sanity is hanging on by a thread that might snap if you’re in this car any longer.

In the corner of your eye, Mingyu opens his mouth to speak, but he decides against it when the pizza parlour comes into view. He swiftly parks by the front entrance, and once you get out, you notice that the car is centred perfectly between the lines.

You suppose he’s gotten better at driving over the years. The last time you were here, he’d parked so crookedly your stomach hurt from laughing.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, staring at you quizzically. “Are you good?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, slipping past him when he holds the door open for you. “Thanks.”

He walks up to the counter, saying his order number to the employee and nodding understandingly when she explains that one of the pizzas had been dropped on the floor and they’ve gone to remake the order. He returns to you — beside you, as if it has always been his rightful place — hands tucked into his pockets as he sways on the balls of his feet.

This must be some form of torture, you think. Minghao and Seokmin have done this in retaliation for every bad thing you’ve ever done to them.

(“Seokmin and I love you both,” Minghao confesses over the phone, face blurry due to your unpredictable wi-fi, “You know that, right?”

“I do.”

“And we really think you should talk to each other,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at your phone, you can tell he’s staring at you in that analytical way of his while you try to finish an assignment. “Maybe it’ll do you some good.”

You sigh. “Hao—”

“It’s been three months. Let him explain.”

“I did,” you hiss. “He was the one that left.”

Silence. You rub your temples.

When you finally look at Minghao, he’s remorseful. “Sorry,” he murmurs, flopping onto his bed and letting his camera pan up to the ceiling. You can no longer see his face, but you can hear the despair in his voice. “It’s just hard, being in the middle of this.”

“I’m not asking you to pick sides.”

“I know that,” he argues softly. “I just want everything to go back to normal.”)

You dig your nails into your skin as Mingyu begins humming to a song playing over the speakers. It’s one that they’ve been playing for years, a pop song that will have to be pried out of a radio host’s dead, cold hands.

It’s a song Mingyu despises.

(It’s so catchy, though, he used to tell you, ashamed. You need to save me from it).

When Daeshim had called you at the end of the semester, the first thing out of his lips was a question about your return. You had agreed with reluctance, and he said something about how long it’s been, how time heals all wounds, that nothing should hurt anymore.

But three years cannot erase a lifetime.

You foolishly thought it could. When you arrived, you pretended you didn’t see an old photo of him taped on your closet door. When you first saw him at the supermarket, you ignored the way his hand twitched to reach over to you. When he talked to you outside of that nightclub, you evaded the familiarity of his warmth like it was a virus.

You foolishly thought it was enough. You built a wall of indifference around yourself, but it had begun to chip away just as quickly as you constructed it. It was never foolproof. It was never made of stone, but of cards.

One glance from Mingyu and it all comes tumbling down.

“Minghao told me a few days ago that you wanted to talk,” Mingyu says once the song has ended.

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“Not yet, no.”

“Well,” he says, taking a step towards the counter when the employee calls out his order number, “whenever you’re ready to, I’m here.”

“Something’s wrong.”

He understands what you mean. You’re not referring to the TV that won’t play the movie or the takeout that tastes a little off. You look at him nervously, afraid to break the flimsy spell of calm he’s enchanted on everything he touches.

“Yeah,” he replies, gripping the armrest tightly.

You blink at him, waiting for something he won’t offer. For a moment, he thinks you might push, but you have never been one to do so; you have always believed that doing something like that only throws you down a road of hurt.

So, he shouldn’t be surprised when you eventually nod in defeat.

“Well,” you say with a smile reserved for strangers you can only pretend to care about, “if you need to talk about it, I’m here.”

Four friends occupy a small corner of the skatepark. One of them is on the ramps, appearing in the air to do a trick before disappearing from sight. Another is rolling down the concrete, hands stretched out to maintain balance.

Two sit in the shade, watching.

“Do you think they’ll talk soon?” one of them asks, a taller boy with light brown hair and a beauty mark near the apple of his cheek.

The other, dressed in all black despite the sweltering heat, runs a hand through his mullet. “I don’t know, Seokmin. Probably. Hopefully.”

“Do you think they’re mad at us for forcing them to get the pizza?”

“Yes.”

Seokmin snorts, but his amusement is short-lived. He continues to observe his friends as they stray further and further from each other. He catches the way they glance over their shoulders in concern.

“They’re stupid, aren’t they, Minghao?” he finally says. The boy beside him hums in agreement. “Were they always like this in high school?”

“I don’t think so,” Minghao replies. “If they were, I don’t know how I managed to survive.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“Hypocrite.”

Seokmin sticks his tongue out. Then, quietly, as if the other two friends will hear, he says, “Well, they need to hurry up and talk. I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he grumbles. “Maybe if I just told Y/N about it sooner, or pushed Mingyu—”

“Probably,” Minghao interrupts before Seokmin can concoct any more what-ifs from his brain. His stomach churns at the numerous possibilities he will never see. “But there’s nothing we can do it about it now.”

“Maybe things would be better if we did things differently.”

“Yeah, but the past is the past. Besides,” he sighs, watching one friend trip on his way towards them and the other struggle to stop themselves on the board, “this isn’t our problem to fix. I don’t think it ever was. We’ll just leave it to them.”

“You really think they’ll work it out?”

“God. I really hope so. It would put all of us out of our misery.”

Spring has long since bled into winter when you find yourself at the skatepark, wearing a sweater that was never yours with your heart dangling from its sleeve. It’s chilly at this hour of the morning when the world is quiet and your denial is prominent, and it gets even colder when your name falls from Mingyu’s lips and his touch is uncharacteristically icy against your skin.

You rip your wrist from his grasp and hurt flashes across his face before he takes a step back.

“I—” he gulps, “you shouldn’t run out like that.”

He purses his lips, and you notice how chapped they’ve gotten over the past few days. Everything about him has roughened up — it goes farther than his dry hands and the unruly state of his hair; he’s grown distant. He looks at you with a mixture of emotions you can’t explain, his words have are clipped, and you aren’t sure how long this behaviour would’ve gone on for if you hadn’t caught him signing up for classes at a university he never told you he was going to attend.

“You lied to me.”

He exhales shakily. “I know. I’m sorry, I—” he rubs a hand over his face because he doesn’t know what to say. Mingyu isn’t like this. People would kill to own even a sliver of his charisma; it’s so easy for him to talk himself out of things, but the words have died in his mouth before they even reached the tip of his tongue.

“You—You should’ve told me,” you stammer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mingyu has never felt this moronic before, standing before you and stretching his hand in your direction only to watch how, every time without fail, you take a step back as if any contact from him will result in third-degree burns.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “But you were already so worried about all of us growing apart after graduation, and I didn’t want to add onto that stress. So I kept putting it off, and I shouldn’t have, I know that, I just—” his face falls, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

It takes everything in him not to flinch when your anger flares. Your resolve is rotting away to dissolve into the morning air; he thinks, offhandedly, that the molecules of your decaying calm have collided once again and found purchase over his head. A cloud to loom over him, made up of your melancholy and his guilt.

“You didn’t want to hurt me,” you say incredulously, in a tone so hurt that Mingyu’s heart drops. “Well, look where we are now, Mingyu.”

He doesn’t like the position he’s put the both of you in. He doesn’t like how this conversation is tainting every happy memory he ever had at this skatepark. He wonders if he’ll see your hurt expression every time he closes his eyes.

This could’ve been avoided, he’s aware of that. Seokmin made sure to voice his disapproval every time they crossed paths, Minghao’s veil of indifference was slowly crumbling with each passing day, and Seungkwan — who made the mistake of being around when Mingyu let it slip that his post-graduation plans didn’t match yours — grew more nervous than all of them combined.

For as long as he can remember, everyone he knows has never done well with secrets. He’s always been a firm believer that they’re parasitic, the reason behind every downfall he’s ever had the displeasure of witnessing. But that was before he had a secret worth keeping.

(It does not matter if it’s worth it or not. At the end of the day, he was right all along. They are infectious, deadly little things).

Soon after he was born, it was common belief amongst townsfolk that he would change the world. It did not matter how; they would support him regardless. He thinks his entire being may as well have been made from diamonds with how he was created to be the star of something he never asked to be part of.

It’s exhausting.

The university you two had chosen at fifteen-years-old was perfect for you. When you took the virtual tours and exchanged messages with its students, you looked like you had stepped right out of a fairy tale. But it was two hours away from this town, so far yet so close to the very thing that’s been draining him of energy, and he quickly came to realize last summer that your dream school was the last thing he wanted.

But you would’ve followed him anywhere. If it weren’t for his, Minghao, and Seokmin’s insistence, you would’ve chosen to stay at home, because you never liked the idea of leaving everything behind.

That’s where you and he differ.

And he couldn’t take that from you.

Because you and him were always believed to be cut from the same cloth — model students, the perfect fit — but everything he touched tarnished and everything you touched turned to gold dust. He’s hidden behind an illusion all his life, but he knows for a fact that you’re meant to go above and beyond every expectation that’s ever been set for you.

Who is he to get in the way of that?

(He’s sure the only thing that’s setting you back is him. It has always been him. It’s only a matter of time before you realize it, too).

“I love you,” he confesses suddenly, startling you to your core. “And I’m so sorry.”

You look at him warily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I fucked up,” he says.

“Yeah, you did.”

“But…” he trails off. When your eyes meet, something ignites inside of you.

(You have always known him better than any of them ever could).

“Mingyu—”

“Maybe it’s for the best if we—”

“Mingyu.”

He closes his eyes and hopes it’s enough to push the tears back. “I love you,” he says again, but his lips are quivering, and a sob threatens to escape the confines of his throat. “I love you so much that it physically hurt to do that to you, but it was for the better—”

Disbelief engulfs you in an instant, and you take a spontaneous step towards him in your surprise. “You’re not making a lot of sense right now,” you say, frantic, “I’m still really fucking mad at you, but we can talk this out, because I have no idea what you’re—”

“Just listen to me, Y/N, I don’t think—”

“You listen to me, because—”

“You deserve so much better than this, don’t you know that?” he snaps, shrinking into himself seconds later. His voice shakes with frustration. This hurts him beyond your imagination, but he’d do anything for you, even if it ends with him sporting wounds that will never heal. “And I’m holding you back, and I— I can’t do that to you. Not anymore.”

A sob melts into your words before you can stop it. “So you think the best way to fix that is to move across the country?”

“There were better ways to go about it,” he admits. “Ways that wouldn’t have ended like this, but I stand by what I said, Y/N.”

“Don’t do this, Mingyu. You don’t get to—” you stutter, inhaling hastily to regain your composure before looking him through your teary vision, “—you don’t get to break up with me over something as stupid as this.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he says it like a mantra, like it’s engraved into his brain and there’s no use trying to rid him of it.

“You don’t get to decide that!” you exclaim. “And even if that was true, it doesn’t matter to me. We love each other, Mingyu, isn’t that enough?”

You go to cup his face. This time, it’s he who takes a step back, and his heart screeches in pain at the sight of your crestfallen face.

“Maybe if I—” he runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the strands, forcing himself to continue, “Maybe if I loved you less, I’d let myself be selfish. But that’s not the case. That’s never been the case.”

That day you do not leave the skatepark with a scrape on your knee or a new bruise on your shins. But you don’t leave unscathed, either.

Your heart has been ripped from your chest, and Kim Mingyu carries the remnants of it with him.

Mingyu always liked people-watching.

He’d tell you it was nice to be on the other side of the microscope; to observe, not be observed. On the trips out of town, he’d sit anywhere that was bustling with people and make up stories about anyone who caught his eye: he’s cheating on his wife with his high school sweetheart, or she’s talking to her estranged cousin and she’s threatening to get a restraining order, or that little boy was meant to be a twin but he ate his sibling in the womb.

“That guy’s still in love with his ex-girlfriend even though they broke up a decade ago,” Mingyu says, subtly nodding towards a man supervising his child on the ramps.

The snort that escapes you dents the discomfort hanging in the air. “He reached out to her on Facebook, and it turns out she’s coming to visit.”

“They’re going to meet in the city. He told his wife he has work stuff.”

“His wife’s suspicious. She’s definitely hiring a PI.”

“But the PI sucks, he’s a fake and a scammer. He ends up tailing the wrong guy.”

“And the wife spent good money on him, too.”

“But she doesn’t really care since she paid the investigator using her husband’s money.”

“Good for her! It’s what he deserves for cheating.”

You smile, pressing your legs against your chest as you watch the kid soar through the park on her rollerskates. Her laughter’s loud, and you allow it to ring in your ears to momentarily distract yourself from Mingyu.

It’s overwhelming being here next to him. You’ve been here multiple times since you’ve come home, but the nostalgia and ache of watching him from afar does not compare to what you feel now that he’s by your side, sitting stiff on the park bench with his hands clasped in his lap. The dull throb in your chest becomes more prominent when he glances and catches your eye, hiding his yearning beneath a thin veil of indifference.

You turn away, and that’s enough for him to adorn the last bit of confidence he has. “Why’d you call me here?”

Resting your cheek against your knee, you murmur, “You know why I called you here.”

It does not matter that he’s known you almost as long as you’ve been alive — a room full of newborns would realize that he’s here because you want an explanation.

Closure really would be nice.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Ask me anything.”

When you slipped out of your house this morning, full of anticipation, you thought that it’d be hard for you to find the words. But you’ve stuffed the curiosity down your throat long enough. For years, all you could feel was a weight on your esophagus; the air you’ve been inhaling and expelling is nothing if not tainted with heartbreak, and you crave the feeling of fresh air again — something that’s free from the insecurities and the anguish and everything in between.

“Back then, did you tell Minghao we fought?” you ask. “Because he seems to think that we did. Every time he called me that’s all he would ask. Have you and Mingyu stopped fighting?”

He tilts his head. “Would you not say that was a fight?”

“Well, no,” you reply. “You just ended it, and I was trying to get you not to.”

Mingyu flinches but he’s quick to recover. “Nothing could’ve changed my mind back then.”

“Why?” you demand, unable to hide your despair.

Mingyu finally looks at you without tearing his gaze away. He’s exhausted, and you aren’t sure if it’s because of how early it is or if he’s just as drained from all of this as you are. The limbo between forgiveness and disdain was never made for the weak.

“Listen, I—”

“You told me you didn’t deserve me,” you say, “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I thought I could’ve been enough for you — I tried to be. But you always had everything planned out and I didn’t, I was living with a façade and you weren’t, and I— I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Clenching your jaw, you say, “So, you moved.”

“I loved you,” he says quickly before you have the chance to ask him otherwise. “That was never the problem. I was scared. I guess part of me wanted to let go while you still thought I was worth it.”

“Don’t say that, Mingyu.”

“I know, I know,” he replies. “I’m working on the self-worth. It’s hard to come by.”

It hits you then, like you’re standing in the ocean as a large wave of water looms over your figure. You used to watch as everyone fawned over Mingyu as if he was untouchable, a divinity amongst men. You used to watch and lust for the days where you would turn out to be exactly the person he deserved to love.

But while Mingyu ached to be the person everyone made him out to be, you saw past your own desires and those who desired him. Through all that was carefully crafted, you saw him for who he truly was.

And you loved every inch of him. So much so that you’re convinced you’ll never be able to feel this way for anybody else.

“For what it’s worth,” you say, “back then, you were it for me. I would’ve loved you regardless.”

His gaze softens and, for a moment, sitting next to you is the same boy from all those years ago, who accepted your proposal for a date, who asked you to prom, who tattooed eight letters into your skin before slumber took you over.

“If we…” he begins carefully, “If I did things differently, do you think we could’ve made it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d like to think that we would’ve,” you nudge his shoulder in hopes that being playful will lighten the mood. “But none of that matters. We’re here now, and we talked.”

“We talked,” he nods. “We used to be terrible at that.”

“Not the best at communication, sure,” you smile softly. “But at least we fixed it. Better late than never.”

He bites the inside of his cheek to stop his own smile from growing any larger. “Better late than never.”

The sun envelopes you in a warm hug the moment you sit down, a companion in the serene summer’s day. Sand sticks to your skin, adhered to it by the sweat, clinging to you as if you’re its last hope to live.

The tranquility is interrupted by a screech, and you bet with closed eyes that it’s either Mingyu, who left a while back to get some ice cream and probably dropped it, or Chan, who decided to build a sandcastle close to the ocean despite the various protests he received in response.

You crack an eye open just as the water retreats from the shore. Chan stands before his unfinished monstrosity, staring in distress, while Vernon gives him a look as if to say I told you so.

From where he lies beside you, Seokmin announces, “If it makes you feel any better, it was a little ugly.”

“You said five minutes ago that it was good!”

“I was lying to you.”

“Yeah,” Seungkwan agrees, toeing the area where the castle once resided. “The moat was fucked up, too.”

“It was a moat.”

“And yet you fucked it up.”

Chan gives them an unsavoury gesture before instructing both Vernon and Seungkwan to help him make another. Reluctant but compliant, they take the pails you’d bought last minute at the dollar store and settle themselves farther away from the shore.

Seokmin salutes them for good luck before glancing at his phone. “Is Mingyu still at the boardwalk?"

Minghao hums. “Yeah, the line for ice cream’s probably long.”

“Okay, good,” Seokmin says before poking your shoulder aggressively, ignoring your complaints about how easily you bruise. “Gives me time to interrogate you.”

“Interrogate me?” you ask incredulously. “About what?”

He raises his hand, and you prepare yourself for the worst. It’s over for you the moment Seokmin begins listing things off his fingers. “You willingly sat in the backseat with Mingyu on the way here, you willingly talked to him for the entire car ride, and you willingly offered to go with him to get ice cream.”

“Hardly things to interrogate me over.”

“Hardly things to interrogate me over,” he mimics. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you guys dating again?”

“What?”

“Ah. Have you two eloped?”

Minghao snorts as he opens the cap to his sunscreen. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re just engaged.”

Seokmin places a hand on his chest. “Oh, thank goodness—”

“Are you guys insane?” you shriek, briefly scanning the beach in hopes nobody heard your friends’ remarks. “We just talked yesterday.”

“Oh,” Minghao muses, throwing the sunscreen over your head for Seokmin to catch. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it,” you confirm. “What else would there be?”

Minghao shrugs as he rubs the cream onto his arms. “Nothing, I guess.”

A noise escapes Seokmin’s throat, something akin to disagreement. You whip your head to face him as he raises his hands up in defence. “What is it?” you ask him.

“I just…” he waves his hand in the air with a small pout on his lips. “I’m confused, I guess. Everything’s resolved now? Just like that? We’re all friends again?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re friends,” you huff. “I don’t know what we are, either. But we have the rest of the summer to figure that out, so why the rush?”

Seokmin leans back on his elbows. “Well, whatever the two of you are, I’m glad you two talked, it was long overdue.”

Minghao nods in agreement.

From a few feet away, Seungkwan’s voice is loud amongst the waves crashing onto shore, the families relaxing under beach umbrellas, and the seagulls soaring through the sky. “Mingyu!” he exclaims in disbelief. “You didn’t drop any!”

You can’t catch a good glimpse of him without craning your neck, but his voice alone is enough to quicken your heartbeat. “Yeah, I know,” you hear him say, “I told you guys I’m not completely hopeless. Seven Drumsticks, all in perfect condition. Vernon, did you want the original flavour?”

It only takes a couple moments before he’s in your line of sight, standing in front of you with the sun’s blinding rays crowning his head like a halo. He grins, letting his sunglasses slip down his nose so you can see his eyes, and hands you a cone.

“Thanks,” you say.

His grin widens, just a little. “Don’t mention it. Hao, which one do you want?”

Once everyone’s finished their ice cream (and after a long debate that occurred due to Chan innocently asking for advice on what to do about his roommates back at his on-campus apartment), Seungkwan manages to find a beach volleyball court that’s unoccupied and persuades everyone to participate.

One set to ten points turns into the best out of three, and when your team begins to buckle under the pressure, Seungkwan suggests something with a sinister grin. “Losing team has to get buried under the sand and stay there for fifteen minutes.”

“Ten,” Seokmin negotiates.

“Twelve.”

“Five.”

Seungkwan squints. “You can’t go lower, that’s not how a negotiation works.”

“One person from the losing team gets buried under the sand for ten minutes and has to pay for dinner,” Chan says.

Seungkwan snaps his fingers before pointing to him. “Deal.”

It all ends, as expected, with Seungkwan’s team victorious. The three boys on the other side of the net exchange high-fives before returning to you and your sullen teammates with cocky grins. Minghao urges all of you to play a game of rock, paper, scissors to decide the true loser of today, and though you feigned indifference when you fumbled the last ball, the mask speedily cracks when the last two people left is you and Mingyu.

(“A duel between lovers,” Chan sighs dramatically. Minghao pinches his side).

Your eyes meet his, and something flickers in his expression. Gone too quick for you to decipher, but something in the back of your mind tells you that you should know exactly what he’s about to do.

Seokmin booms, “Rock, paper, scissors!”

You ball your hand into a fist and Mingyu curls his fingers into his palm except for two.

“Scissors beats rock,” Vernon slaps him on the back sympathetically before pointing at the ground. “Get comfortable, dude.”

With the amount of eagerness your friends exhibit, Mingyu is buried in minutes, stiff under the copious warm dust he’s under. Seokmin, with sand sticking to his hands, ruffles Mingyu’s hair and laughs when the latter crinkles his nose in disgust. Taking his sunglasses from his bag, you place them on the bridge of nose and brush off anything that got on his face.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” you echo. “I’m sure you’ll have fun here.”

He kisses his teeth in annoyance. “Oh, I bet. Once I get out of here, I’m gonna have tan lines on my collarbone.”

You smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can stay here with you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“You’re here for ten minutes by yourself and the reason we lost is because of me,” you say, wincing at the memory of Seokmin and Chan shouting for you to retrieve the ball despite it being too far away for you to save. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs. “Since I let you win rock, paper, scissors.”

You blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

“You always choose rock.”

“What? Then why’d you choose scissors?”

Mingyu attempts to shrug and scowls when he can’t.

You flick his forehead. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to.”

“Of course,” you snicker. “And how are you finding it underneath all that sand?”

He doesn’t even bother to pretend to be nonchalant. “Oh, it’s the worst. It’s slightly better with you here, though.”

You turn to look at the sea. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he pouts. “I thought we were going to tell each other stuff from now on. You know, communicate better.”

“Well, still.”

“I’m just saying what I’m thinking!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He laughs, loud and boisterous and it heals something in your very being. There’s a mirth in his eyes you haven’t seen in a long time, and you yearn to hear it again. Mingyu has always been beautiful, but he’s even more so when he’s happy, a boy so golden he could rival the sun and the stars in its beauty.

And he would win, you think.

(What you don’t know is that Mingyu thinks the same of you. Many things have changed, but one thing that never will is how much you shine. The sky and all its confidants, try as they might, would never rid you of your luster. To him, they’ll never prevail).

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question.

He smiles. “No reason.”

Considering the fact that you spent a good part of your childhood running around the mall and giving into the urge of buying things you’ll never need, it’s a surprise that you forgot just how busy it gets during the summer.

(“Wow,” Mingyu had said. “You avoid me and this town for three years and suddenly you forget everything about it?”)

(He, along with everyone you’ve grown up with, will never let you live this down).

It’s a miracle the four of you even found somewhere to sit in the food court — a booth, no less. Part of you wonders if Seokmin sweet-talked a family into giving up this table for him, and you feel only a sliver of pity for whoever has to eat in an area that’s affected by the vibrant rays of the sun.

Once Minghao and Seokmin have returned from buying their food, they send you and Mingyu off to get your lunch with the promise that they’ll wait for you both before they start eating. Mingyu walks ahead, careful not to trip over anyone as he observes the signs of each food joint you pass, and glances over his shoulder to make sure you haven’t gotten lost in the crowd amid his indecision.

“What are you getting?” he asks once the two of you can hear each other above the many mallgoers.

“Don’t know. Pad Thai, maybe.”

“Nice. I was thinking getting a burger at Burger King, but…” he gestures towards the long line and winces. “I don’t have the patience for that.”

“So?”

“So, what?”

“What are you going to eat then?”

“Oh,” Mingyu frowns before shrugging nonchalantly. “Pad Thai it is, then. I think that has the shortest line.”

“Really? When we passed by KFC it didn’t look too bad—”

Mingyu turns, pointing to the Thai place across from you. “Pad Thai! Let’s go before the line gets any longer,” he proclaims, wrapping a hand around your elbow and gently tugging you towards the smell of stir-fry.

It’s easy to fall back into rhythm with Mingyu — so much so that it scares you, just a little. While you assumed it wouldn’t have been too weird once the barrier of the old relationship was removed, you hadn’t thought it would’ve been this comfortable. You assumed everything would be stilted for a short period before the puzzle pieces returned to their places, but this was unpredictable. This is familiar (everything with Mingyu always is); more familiar than riding a bike, or the scar on your knee, or your mom’s tendency to hover over you now that you’ve returned.

His skin against yours all while offering to lend you his jacket and pay for your food could be seen as simple acts of friendship — and if it were anybody else, you would agree, but your ties with each other, since the beginning of time, have regularly toed the line of romantic. It is a fact you cannot deny, and trying to do so would be like saying the sky is green or oxygen isn’t a requirement for survival.

The void in your chest used to be in the shape of him — freshly eighteen and brought down by his expectations along with everybody else’s — and you have tried other remedies to heal it: avoidance, sinking into other people’s sheets, tossing every physical memory you have of him in a box that you never ended up donating.

Who knew that the void would be filled by the same boy who caused it? Only this time, he’s standing in front of you, a little taller, sporting a different haircut, and learning how to live on his own terms.

“Fuck,” he says as he digs through his wallet. “I think I don’t have any cash to pay with. Man, I really didn’t want to use my credit card today.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I’ll pay. You already gave me your jacket even though I said you didn’t have to.”

“You were cold,” he argues. “If you didn’t want me to give it to you, then maybe don’t get cold next time.”

You scoff. “Well, tell whoever’s managing the A/C to turn it down. It’s like stepping into a freezer in here.”

Mingyu mutters — something along the lines of so dramatic — before he shifts the position of his open wallet in his hands and continues digging for bills that aren’t there. What is there, however, is a photo all too familiar.

You place a hand on his wrist to stop him from moving. “Hey, is that a picture of me?”

Mingyu freezes. Then, he pulls away from your grip. “No.”

“Okay. Then who was it?”

You stare at each other for a beat too long, interrupted by someone asking if you can move up the line, and it’s only then that Mingyu turns away, bashful, and murmuring, “Okay, fine. It’s you.”

You try not to let the giddiness get to you. “And why, exactly, do you have a picture of me in there?”

“It’s not just you,” he lies. “Minghao and Seokmin are also in there.”

“No, I don’t think so,” you reply matter-of-factly. “I got a good glimpse, and I think it was just me.”

He tuts. “Believe what you want to believe.”

“I’m choosing to believe the truth.”

He sulks, taking another step towards the register. “You’re finding this too funny for my liking.”

“I’m not! I think it’s cute,” you object. “Why is it in there in the first place?”

“Maybe I just wanted to put it in there, it’s a good photo!”

“Of course.”

“You’re photogenic,” he adds. “Besides, what’s wrong with keeping a photo of my friend in my wallet?”

The question escapes you before you can think twice. “Is that what we are?”

Mingyu quietens, uncertain. Then, after rapidly fighting an internal battle, he says, “Before everything else, you’re my best friend.”

You nod because that’s the case for you, too. “But?”

His digs his teeth into his bottom lip before he opens his mouth, the answer on the tip of his tongue.

“I—”

“Next, please!”

Mingyu flinches, but it only takes a glance at the long line behind him before he’s grabbing his credit card. “C’mon,” he interlocks his pinky with yours. “Order what you want, it’s on me.”

“Mingyu—”

He gives you a smile. “It’s fine,” he assures quietly. “I want to.”

(In his wallet is a candid polaroid — a person on the beach, laughing at a joke made by someone who hasn’t been photographed. The picture has no crinkles, either because it’s deeply cherished or because it’s new — maybe both is the case.

It replaces an older photo, one that’s years old, taken while he was in high school of the same person. Still candid, still radiant, still laughing. He’s treasured it for years, but he decides it’s time to relocate it. Maybe when he gets back to his apartment, he’ll put it on his fridge. It was looking a little empty, anyway).

Mingyu doesn’t particularly like it here. It brings up old feelings he’s working to retire as well as a medley of insecurities and unease.

But he would be lying if he said that the bad was the only thing this town has to offer.

The skatepark brings comfort, a corner of the world where freedom comes from touching the sky in the seconds his board lifts from the ground, a playground of cement and ramps and splintered benches found under trees that have been alive far longer than he has. It comes from his friends’ homes; Seungkwan’s spacious backyard and Seokmin’s living room where drink rings litter the coffee table as a consequence of never using the coasters.

It comes from the people. It comes from his family, who hugs him tight and listens to every concern he has under the sun. It comes from his friends, a group of rambunctious people who he has too many inside jokes with, and who drag him into shenanigans he has no option of backing out of.

It comes from you. Comfort always comes from you.

From where he stands in the corner, he watches you scour the karaoke song book, protesting all of Chan’s suggestions before entering a number onto the TV. Then you squint at the lyrics on the screen before you begin singing.

The others in the living room are in awe, captivated despite your inability to hold a note. Your gleeful smile makes up for what you lack in the singing department, and Mingyu supposes he’s no different than everybody else when you meet his eyes in the crowd and his palms begin to sweat. You hold his gaze for far too long, causing you to lose your spot in the song, and you sheepishly turn away before trying to make up for your mistakes.

He stays until the end, the loudest to clap despite your score being nothing exciting (it’s exciting to him, and that’s all that matters), and raises his hand in greeting with a silent promise to see you later when you’re pulled into a conversation with someone you used to play badminton with.

He ducks into the kitchen before he’s forced to engage in more small talk with another person. His footsteps quicken along with his growing desire to grab another beer, hidden behind the soda cans Seungkwan shoved inside for the party.

(Mingyu doesn’t entirely know what or who this party is for. He only recalls the texts between him and Minghao three days prior:

hao 👨‍🎨 > party at seungkwan’s on saturday

mingyu > not coming

hao 👨‍🎨 > 😐 ok ur loss > y/n is tho

mingyu > … i’ll bring my mom’s brownies).

Mingyu opens the can the moment it’s in his hands, relishing in the temporary sound of fizzing before taking a sip. The only straggler in the kitchen is him; everyone gathered in the living room the moment Seungkwan turned the karaoke machine on. He situates himself so he can see just through the threshold, keeping an eye out for the moment you’re free so he can pull you aside to talk.

About what, he doesn’t know. Winging it has always been his thing.

“Yo, Mingyu,” Seokmin greets as he makes his way to the fridge. “What are you doing in here?”

“Hiding.”

“It’s nice to know some things haven’t changed,” Seokmin quips, digging through the variety of drinks, “you’re still a loser.”

“You love me.”

“Oh, of course, that was never in question. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re a loser.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Sprite for me, beer for Vernon.” He stands to his full height and cranes his neck to look at Mingyu around the fridge door. “Was that the last of it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Seokmin doesn’t look that defeated when he grabs two cans of Sprite. “Maybe that’s for the best. He’s drunk enough as it is.” Off Mingyu’s confusion, Seokmin adds, “I know, he never gets wasted, but he’s on the waitlist for a screenwriting class, so he’s upset beyond repair.”

“And he’s always saying everyone else is more dramatic than he is.”

“Right? He’s only second on the waitlist, too.”

Mingyu laughs but his eyes involuntarily flicker back to the door to see if you’re still talking to other people. He frowns when he notices you’ve disappeared from where he spotted you last, and he debates taking out his phone and texting you to ask where you are.

Seokmin kisses his teeth. “Are you sure you want to stay in here by yourself? Y/N probably wants to talk to you.”

“They’re talking to other people. I’m fine waiting it out.”

Seokmin looks like he’s going to oppose Mingyu’s decisions, but he opts for shrugging instead. “Alright, if you say so. Don’t wait too long, though.”

“I won’t,” Mingyu promises. Seokmin begins his trek back to the living room, one soda dangling from each hand, when Mingyu suddenly calls out, “Hey, wait.”

Seokmin falters awkwardly in his step before turning around with furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“I, uh,” Mingyu rubs his neck, wincing. “I don’t think I ever apologized.”

The confusion on Seokmin’s face is wiped away to be replaced with triumph. He points an accusatory finger at his friend while his voice echoes in the four walls of the Boo kitchen. “I knew it! You did steal my beanie, you liar, the next time I visit you, I’m taking it back, and it better be in good condition! I can’t believe you took it with you across the country, that’s so fucked up—”

“Huh? No, what?” Mingyu says in disbelief. “For the last time, I didn’t steal your beanie—”

“Okay, sure, then who was it, then?”

“I don’t know!”

“Then what are you apologizing for?”

“For not listening to you!” Mingyu exclaims. “Back then, you told me to tell Y/N the truth and I didn’t listen when I should have. If I did, you and Hao wouldn’t have been put in the middle of everything.”

“Oh,” Seokmin makes a face and waves him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“You made a mistake. A stupid one, yeah, and I’m probably never going to let you live it down, but,” he smiles gently, “we’re okay now. Just focus on what you’ll do about… you know.”

“…What?”

“You know,” Seokmin parrots. “Y/N. I mean, you still love them, don’t you?”

Without hesitation, Mingyu responds, “Well, no fucking shit.”

Seokmin makes a noise of satisfaction before turning on his heel. Over his shoulder, he singsongs, “Don’t fuck anything up!”

Mingyu scoffs. “I won’t!”

With each passing minute, the night gets livelier, and Mingyu ends up re-entering the living room and talking to other people despite his internal insistence not to. It keeps him busy, momentarily distracting him from the way his heartrate spikes at the thought of speaking to you tonight.

In the middle of his conversation with a former basketball teammate, a microphone ends up in his hands, and before he can blink, he’s pushed in front of the TV. It takes him a moment too long before he realizes that he’s been forced to sing a duet with you.

(Behind the couch, Minghao snorts at Seokmin’s devilish grin.

“I thought I told you to stay out of it.”

“I am!” Seokmin says, “I’m only giving them a slight push in the right direction!”)

The timer begins counting down.

Five.

“Just so you know,” you begin, “Seungkwan and Chan are going after us. We have to score as high as possible.”

Four.

“I don’t think we can manage that, to be honest.”

Three.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re great at singing, so you can make up for how bad I am.”

Two.

“I don’t—”

One.

“Believe in yourself, Mingyu.”

You bring the microphone up to your lips and begin to sing, and he can only follow your movements.

It takes an unfathomable amount of willpower to stop himself from staring at you for the song’s entirety. He clenches his fist as he recites the lyrics, but when it gets to the bridge and it’s your turn to take the reins, Mingyu lets his guard down, his hand falling limply to his side as you laugh through your part.

He has never been an expert in love — few of the decisions he’s made in the name of it have seldom ended well — and when he was younger, the only thing he ever knew regarding it was you. Before, he thought that wouldn’t have been enough, that in order to be the person you deserved, he had to know more.

However, he’s older now, and things change with time.

You glance at him and the butterfly in his stomach rapidly flaps its wings.

(Other things don’t).

He doesn’t even know the song’s ended until arms wrap around his neck. He stumbles backwards before he forces himself to find his footing so he can properly return your excited hug. Mingyu pays no mind to the score flashing onscreen, nor the claps coming from everyone else; all he can smell is your shampoo, he feels your breath on his skin, and that is much more important than a karaoke score ever will be.

Seungkwan says, “That’s not even a good score.”

You loosen your grip around Mingyu so you can look at Seungkwan, and he immediately yearns for more. “Be quiet, this is the best I’ve gotten all night,” you retort. You turn to face Mingyu again, shaking him by the shoulders. “We did good! I told you to believe in yourself!”

Before he can reply, you’re pulled apart by Chan, who’s itching to take his turn. He rips the mics from his and your hands, and you slip from Mingyu’s fingers once again when Vernon asks you if you can help him look for another can of beer.

He exhales in defeat, accepts Chan shooing him away with grace, and slips outside.

He leans over the porch railing, staring at the watercolour sky, a mixture of pink and orange and yellow.

Mingyu hangs his head, wondering just how many more times you’ll get whisked away before he even has a chance to utter a word. He prefers smaller gatherings, because at least then he’d be able to talk to you with ease.

He’s not quite sure how many more times he’ll be able to stand by and watch you go before he loses his mind.

Behind him, the door slides open, and he assumes it’s Seokmin telling him to get a move on. But the footsteps sound different than his friend’s, and he immediately perks up when a familiar scent reaches his nose.

“Hey.”

Your frame enters his periphery, your university jacket hanging on your shoulders with the sleeves covering your hands.

Mingyu straightens. “Hi.”

You settle beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and Mingyu immediately relaxes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, “what makes you think I’m not?”

“You’ve been hiding from everyone since the night began,” you answer. “You don’t wanna be here, huh?”

“Of course I want to be here.” You raise an eyebrow at his lie. “Okay, fine, I don’t really want to be here.”

“Then why’d you come?”

“…I thought it would’ve been fun.”

“Really?” you snort. “Do you even know what this party is for?”

“Well… no.”

He expects you to roll your eyes, but instead you sigh in relief. “Okay, that makes me feel better, because I don’t either.”

“Well, I only came because Minghao told me you’d be coming,” he confesses.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I only came because Seokmin told me you’d be coming.”

He furrows his eyebrows and spares a glance through the glass doors at his friends. “…Huh.”

You huff, following his gaze. “I swear they always have their nose in our business.”

Mingyu looks back at you. “You have to admit, though, they’re pretty good at luring us into parties we don’t want to attend,” he smirks good-naturedly. “Who knew you still had a soft spot for me?”

Turning away from him, flustered, you grumble, “Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t come here because you wanted to see me.”

“I’m not!” he proclaims. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I make it pretty obvious that I like seeing you.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

“Only for you.”

You lightly punch his arm when the laughs that escape his lips grow louder. “I thought I told you that you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he hums. “I mean what I say, Y/N.”

“I’m not saying you don’t, it’s just…” you place your arms on the railing, leaning forward to avoid eye contact, “It’s confusing, that’s all.”

Mingyu faces you while you face away, watches how you stare at the setting sun instead of him, and his heart clenches. When you went your separate ways, he craved to be near you again, but even next to him, you still feel so far away.

(In hindsight, maybe he should’ve planned out how to go about this beforehand).

“You used to say stuff like that all the time,” you explain. “You know, before, uh—”

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

A million scenarios flash through his mind; different results depending on what he says next. He’s typically so good at saying the right thing — his words got him out of trouble and charmed his neighbours — but he’s found that his voice fails him whenever he needs it the most. When he tried to muster the courage to tell you about everything, he was never able to, and he gave into the false reassurances his mind offered that all would be alright in the end.

But none of that matters, you had said. We’re here now.

“You know what I never understood?” you ask.

“What?”

“You don’t like it here. Not a lot, anyway,” you start, “so why did you keep coming back?”

“Well, my family’s here, you know. So are our friends,” he gulps. “And I thought you would be, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He nudges your elbow. “Can I ask you something?”

You chance a glance at him. “Sure, yeah.”

“What you said the other day,” he murmurs, unblinking, “about how I would’ve been it for you, has that changed?”

“Why are you asking?”

He bites the inside of his cheek as his cheeks begin to redden. “Do you really need me to say it?”

You frown. “Say what—?”

“I love you,” he blurts out. “And I know that might be kind of weird, since a lot’s changed since we last saw each other, but that’s the one thing I haven’t been able to shake. Not that— not that I ever wanted to— I just… I think it’s a part of me. Like I was born with it.”

You look at him, eyes glassy, unable to speak.

“But y’know what’s weirder?” he adds. “I’m pretty sure I’ll never get sick of it.”

It’s his turn to face away, turning towards the sun as you stare at the side of his face. The silence drenches the backyard like sudden, thunderous rainfall. For him, it’s unwelcome, and his eardrums echo with his confession.

He tries his best to hide his lovesickness, but the intensity of his longing prevents him from doing so. For the entire summer — perhaps for years, really — he’s been pushing it all down. He’s tired of it all. Of hiding, of pretending, of brushing off his esurient desire for you.

“It’s not weird,” you say, finally, saving him from his misery.

“Sorry?”

“You said it’s weird that you still love me,” you muse. “But I don’t think it is. It wouldn’t be fair of me to.”

His lips part. “What do you—?”

“Of course you’re it for me, Mingyu,” you tell him frustratedly. “You have been since the beginning of time. I don’t want you to go a day without believing it. I know what it’s like to live with you and to live without you, and I really prefer the first option.”

Mingyu’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits.

With quick movements, he inches closer to you, eyes flickering down to your lips before he asks, “Really?”

“What do you mean, really? Why would I—?”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupts, slowly moving his hands closer to your face. “Please?”

He’s sure the longing in your eyes is wild enough to rival his.

(What an odd turn of events, is it not? Despite being on opposite sides of the country, you used to believe there weren’t enough miles between you and Mingyu for you to heal properly. But now, with his lips hovering over yours, you’re beginning to think that he is not close enough).

You take his face into your hands, and you kiss him.

Mingyu stumbles, surprised by your fervor, but matches it with ease. His hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he moves to have his back against the railing. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he surprises himself with a moan at just how much he’s missed it — your hands pulling at his locks, his lips against yours.

He used to pray for this.

When you pull away to catch your breath, he chases you, too dazed to acknowledge your amused mien. You go to peck his lips to soothe him, but he makes sure to hold you against him, his hunger far from satiated.

He stops himself for a moment, breath hot on your skin. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You smile against his mouth. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all night.”

“I feel like you’ve been faking it.”

“I have not.”

“You definitely have. Skateboarding isn’t that hard.”

Mingyu throws his arm around you in defence. “Hey, give them a break, Minghao.”

“Yeah!” Seokmin pipes up, “Y/N was just terrible at it because they can’t balance at all.”

“You know,” you grunt, crossing your arms, “I thought you guys would be proud of me for finally managing to skate across the park without actually falling.”

“I’m proud of you,” Mingyu says, pecking the side of your head. “And I think that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, I can always count on you having my back,” you say, leaning further into him and pointedly glaring at the other two boys in front of you.

Seokmin waves you off. “Hey, I think this might be the first time ever you didn’t get injured at the skatepark.”

You go to protest before frowning. “…I think you’re right, actually. That’s so weird.”

Minghao snorts. “Maybe we should teach you some tricks then.”

You glance at Mingyu, and he seems to really be considering it. “Oh, absolutely not. Are you trying to kill me?”

“I’ll teach you the easy ones!” Mingyu begins, standing in front of you so he’s all you see. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them in reassurance. “You’re already a pro at just skating around, so this should be a piece of cake!”

“Mingyu,” you whine.

“Please,” he matches your tone. “I like teaching you stuff! It’ll be fun!” he lets go of your shoulders and rolls the board so it’s by your feet and offers you his hand as if you’ll need help getting on. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Your wariness is squashed the moment he flashes you a soothing smile.

You sigh. “You promise?”

He crosses his heart. “With everything that I have.”

Without a second thought, you place your hand in his.

He squeezes it immediately in a silent vow:

I’ll be here to catch you if you fall.

© dkfile, 2023. do not translate or copy my works.

#fic: gold rush #seventeen #svt #mingyu #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #kim mingyu angst #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #svt angst #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines

[hengqarae]

reckless driver

PAIRING ❄ kim mingyu x afab!reader WORD COUNT ❄ 10k words GENRE ❄ street racer au, angst, romance, smut (minors dni), the teeniest tiniest smidge of humor WARNINGS ❄ swearing, illegal activity (drag/street racing), making out, extreme pining, whirlwind romance, smut (fingering, protected sex), not proofread, brief hospital scene

you hate racing and you don't date racers. kim mingyu loves racing, and he finds out that he loves you, too, from the moment that he first lays eyes on you.

PLAYLIST ❄ reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine (ft. ben kessler) / yards / gardens by kate bollinger / btbt by b.i. & souljia boy tell 'em (ft. devita) / notice me by sza / nothing but the love by wrabel / with my eyes closed by cults / anyone by seventeen / angel eyes by abba FROM THE AUTHOR ❄ mingyu, crawling up my bias list because of my own fic that i wrote about him... i am a lizzy stan before i am a human, and the first time that i heard reckless driving, i knew that she was singing about mingyu (or, at least, the mingyu that i would one day write about). i hope that you enjoy reading this, and i hope that you are having a wonderful new year <3

You didn’t know what you were getting into when you visited the track that very first time. 

To your credit, you did not visit with the intention of falling in love. Your roommate, Lee Chan, had begged and pleaded for you to accompany him, to indulge, even just once, in this newfound passion of his. He had started racing to pay his bills, but quickly figured out that he enjoyed it. The rush of adrenaline made him feel alive, he’d tell you. You would always follow that up by telling him that he was chasing a high that could kill him one day. 

You didn’t support his racing. You hated saying goodbye to him when he left for races. You always found yourself anxiously awaiting news, tossing and turning whenever you tried to sleep, forced to occupy yourself with something to distract you while you waited for a call, a text, anything to assure you that he had finished the race safely and that he would be coming home at the end of the night. The possibility of getting arrested didn’t really scare either of you; you were mostly afraid that you would lose your best friend, and because of your own stubbornness, you weren’t going to be present if, and when, that happened. That’s the only reason that you started attending races with him. You’ve made sure that you’re abundantly clear about that, too. 

“It’s s'posed to be a really good race tonight!” Chan was practically bouncing in his seat. You hummed quietly in response, eyes trained on his speedometer. He was prone to driving fast when he was excited, and you were nervous enough at the prospect of him racing at all – your nerves didn’t need to be exacerbated by speeding down the interstate en route to the track. “All of the circuits are having their championships tonight, so if I place, I’ll get to move up to C! All the S racers will be there, too. Choi Seungcheol, Joshua Hong, Kim Mingyu – they're, like, gods in the downtown racing circuit.” 

“And which one do I have to thank for bringing you into racing?” 

Chan groans quietly, hands shifting their positions on the steering wheel. “Don’t talk to anyone. Even though I love and adore you, and your opinions are very important to me... I don’t know if your anti-racing agenda will be met very favorably tonight.” 

“What? I said I was going to thank them.” 

“Right.” Chan forces a smile. “Please do not talk to anyone tonight.” 

You huff quietly in response, shifting in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest. You hope that your phone has enough battery to get you through the night. You were definitely not going to watch Chan race, and you doubted that you were going to meet anyone at the track that could offer titillating conversation; that is, you weren’t interested in talking about racing or cars, and it was unlikely that you’d find anyone that could offer much beyond that. You’d likely spend your time in Chan’s car, scrolling through Tik Tok while you waited for him or until your battery died and you were forced to be alone with your own thoughts. 

At least, that had been your intention. When you and Chan arrive at the track, you’re quickly reminded of that saying about best laid plans. 

“Mingyu! What’s up, man?” Chan barely bothers to turn off his ignition before he’s bounding out of his car, greeting another man. One look tells you that this guy – Kim Mingyu, you’re assuming, as Chan had already mentioned him – is a racer, too, and you’re spurred out of the car to give him a piece of your mind. Chan only realizes that you’ve come up behind him once Mingyu’s gaze travels to you, and he’s quick to try and jump on offense. “M-Mingyu, this is my roommate. They... don’t race.” 

“They don’t like racing, either.” You offer, crossing your arms again, leaning against the hood of Chan’s car. You’re uncomfortable with the way that Mingyu is sizing you up, and you don’t miss the smug countenance plastered on his, admittedly handsome, face. Still, you find it difficult to peel your eyes away from his. He’s... hot. You had made it easier to villainize the sport by picturing all other racers to be stout, middle-aged men with receding hairlines. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Mingyu doesn’t fit that picture. 

“Roommates. Is that code for something, or is this actually platonic?” Mingyu keeps his eyes locked with you as he asks, even though you get the sense that his question is directed at Chan. You feel warm under his gaze, unsure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable, or if it’s because you’re finding yourself more and more attracted to Mingyu as you stare at him. Every few seconds, you have to remind yourself that he’s another stupid racer, and for that reason alone, it’s out of the question. 

“N-No, we’re just friends. Nothing like that. Why do you— oh, shit, hold on. Hoshi!” Chan pulls away before he can finish his own question, chasing after another man, leaving you and Mingyu still locked in on each other. His smirk seems to grow even wider, and you shift your weight. You wish Chan had stayed and finished his question. You, too, would like to know why Mingyu had asked. 

As nice as he is to look at, though, if you don’t speak to anyone else tonight, you’ll at least have told Kim Mingyu how you feel about his and Chan’s stupid racing. You won’t back down, even under the warmth that’s blooming across your skin. “Are you the one that brought Chan into this shit?” 

“Dirty words comin’ from such a pretty mouth.” 

“A-Answer the question.” 

Sliding his hands into the pockets of his jackets, Mingyu offers a shrug. “He was already into it when I met him. It was probably...” He looks around after he trails off before focusing back on you. You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. He only mimics your expression, raising his own eyebrows back at you. 

“Well? Who was it? Is he here?” 

“I don’t want to tell you.” 

You scoff. “I-I’m not going to hurt them. I just want to yell at them.” 

“Yeah, that’s why.” You knit your eyebrows together and Mingyu’s smirk grows even wider, turning into a full grin now. “I’d rather you yell at me instead. You seem like you’d be hot when you’re mad.” 

You’re at a loss. It’s been a while, if ever, since you’ve been flirted with so shamelessly, and as badly as you want to stay mad about your current situation – your best friend refusing to quit racing despite your constant protests and you, inevitably, getting dragged to the track with him – you're finding it hard to keep it together when Mingyu is looking at you like he wants to devour you. “I don’t fuck with racers.” 

“I think I could persuade you.” 

“I don’t want to be persuaded.” 

“I like a challenge.” Mingyu bends at the waist, meeting you at eye level from where you’re leaning on Chan’s car. You scrunch your nose when you catch a whiff of his cologne, telling yourself that no, you do not like how he smells. “God, you’re so pretty.” 

“Stop flirting with me.” You snap. 

There’s that smirk again. “Okay, angel.” 

You groan, rolling your eyes and throwing your head back. When you lift your head back, Mingyu seems to have gotten closer. If you reach out, you could grab the collar of his jacket and pull him even closer. Your fingertips tingle at the prospect, but you refrain. Instead, you take the opportunity to study his face up close, his smooth, tanned skin and his deep brown eyes and his plump lips. You must have been looking for a while, because Mingyu feels compelled to finally break you out of your trace. 

“You can look and touch, y’know.” 

“Pass.” You scowl, snapping out of it and leaning back, attempting to create some distance between the two of you. “Don’t you need to warm up or something?” 

“I don’t race for another few hours.” 

You set your jaw. What is this guy doing? Why is he wasting his time on you? You’re sure that, somewhere else within the track, he could find plenty of other people willing to swoon over him, ready to fall to their knees and offer him some pre-race stress relief. You weren’t one of those people. You hate racing. You hate that Chan fell into it, and you hate how you become too worried to function sometimes. You had met him in college, and for him to forsake the degree that he earned for the quick, easy money that he was getting now made your emotions flare. His business degree wasn’t going to kill him. Racing, eventually, will. 

The scent of Mingyu’s cologne is making you feel dizzy, enveloped in the scent of him, and under other circumstances, you’d already have him pressed against you. This was one of Chan’s races, though. You get enough of this shit at home from him; you aren’t going to bring any pieces back with you, too, even though you can imagine it would feel really good to touch Mingyu, and to have him touch you. 

Mingyu is perfectly content in standing and looking at you. He thinks you’re the second most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on, only behind his mother, and if today is the only day he’ll ever be able to see you, he wants to burn the image of you onto the back of his eyelids. 

You finally reach out a hand, pressing your palm against his chest and pushing him back. Nevermind how firm his chest is and how strongly you’re urged to grip his black t-shirt and pull him forward instead of pushing him back. He smiles even as you widen the gap between the two of you. “Is this what you want? You want me to go?” 

You open your mouth to respond to him, to tell him that yes, he needs to leave, but the words won’t come out. Maybe you don’t want him to go. Not yet, anyway. Maybe you like the way that you feel when he’s looking at you, feverish, skin prickling with a sense of urgency that doesn’t make sense to you. Your insides twist uncomfortably when you look into his eyes, and yet, you don’t want to look away. 

Fuck, you wish that he didn’t race. 

“Just tell me to go away and I will, angel.” 

You can’t. You don’t want to. There’s some kind of magnetic pole within Mingyu’s body, compelling you toward him even though you wish that you could get away. You’re stuck in his orbit, and it’s a little scary. 

“You should stop racing.” You respond, finally remembering yourself. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.” 

“Duly noted. How ‘bout a kiss, just in case I do get myself killed tonight?” 

“In your dreams.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu laughs, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back at the forehead. “I’ll definitely be dreamin’ about you.” 

Your body moves faster than your brain, finally giving into the desire to have him closer. Instead of pulling him toward you, you’re stepping forward. You like the feeling of having your body pressed against his, but more than that, you like the feeling of your lips pressed against Mingyu’s. He smiles that same insufferable, self-satisfied grin against your lips, but even that doesn’t make you pull away. Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, fingers twirling in his hair. 

He puts his hands, big and warm, on your hips, holding you against him as you sink your teeth into his bottom lip. Mingyu groans in response and you take the opportunity to swipe your tongue against his top row of teeth. His grip becomes impossibly tighter, and he slides his tongue fully into your mouth, alternating between licking the inside of your mouth and massaging your tongue with his. Only when your lungs feel tight and burn from the lack of oxygen do you finally detach yourself from him, chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath. Mingyu flutters his eyes open, and the look in his eyes makes butterflies erupt in your chest. 

You untangle yourself from him immediately, running your hands through your own hair this time. “I--we—that--” 

“Was that you givin’ me material for my dreams?” 

“W-We shouldn’t have done that.” 

“We didn’t do anything. You kissed me.” 

“I-I know.” You’re still breathing heavily, your mind jumbled with thoughts of how you kissed Mingyu, how you should not have kissed Mingyu, and how much you liked kissing Mingyu. “That w-was a mistake. I didn’t mean to do that.” 

Mingyu juts out his bottom lip, red and puffy and tantalizing enough that you almost disregard your hesitation and dive in again. “You’re breakin’ up with me already? After all that we’ve been through?” 

“Stop making jokes!” You snap at him. “I-It isn’t funny! That—we--” 

“All we did was kiss. There will be plenty of opportunities to do it again.” You’re grasping at straws, trying to navigate through the fog that’s collected in your brain for a retort, when Mingyu’s phone goes off. He pulls it out of his pocket and, for the first time, you see him without a smile. “Call me, okay? Promise?” 

He backs away without waiting for a response, holding out his pinky finger toward you. You watch him retreat with a scowl on your face that only deepens once he blows a kiss at you, turning his back to you and taking off in a jog toward the racetrack. Once he’s been out of sight for long enough to ensure that he’s actually gone, you groan loudly, covering your hands with your face. Your face is hot, and your hands are clammy, and you keep thinking about how good it felt to kiss Mingyu, soft lips slotting between and sliding against yours, his fingers leaving your skin feeling scorched wherever they touched. 

You don’t know why you kissed him. You had been doing so well, holding yourself back and exhibiting some enviable self-restraint. Still, something in you had snapped, and you don’t know how you’ll be able to recover. On the bright side, you might never see Mingyu again. On the other hand, though, he’d shown a determination that makes you doubt he would let you go so easily. You can only hope that he’s just some playboy; that you’re the latest target of his conquest, that he’ll find somebody else and forget all about you. 

He told you that he liked a challenge, and unfortunately, you like being chased.

+ + +

Mingyu can’t stop thinking about you. He knew that this was going to be a problem when he first laid eyes on you and, lo and behold, he was lying in bed for the fourth night in a row, staring up into the dark, consumed with thoughts of you. 

He doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. He doesn’t know if he’ll see you again. What he does know is that he’s seriously lovesick, and you’re the only thing that’ll be able to cure him. This is not the type of person that Kim Mingyu is, though. Usually, he’s suave and charming, and he gets exactly what he wants... and then some. He’s so good at flirting because he does it so often, and yet, he wasn’t able to charm you completely. You’d kissed him – yes, you kissed him – and then, after his race, disappeared without another word. 

He is not a bad kisser. That’s a fact. And, yet, when you had kissed him, you had reacted like you’d committed some kind of grave sin. Mingyu has been with people that think he’s bad news, but that’s never served as an actual obstacle before. This is uncharted territory. He wants you. He wanted you before he even spoke to you; he wanted you as soon as he got his first glimpse of you. 

Your actions say that you want him, too, but your words have contradicted that, and Mingyu doesn’t know what he’s supposed to trust. He’s on the hook either way. 

He doesn’t know what time it is when he reaches for his phone on his nightstand. He doesn’t even know if this will work, but he’s got to try something. His sanity, and sleep cycle, depends on this. 

“Hey Siri, call Lee Chan.” 

The call gets picked up on the second ring, and Mingyu’s heart rate picks up, too. He releases a breath that he doesn’t even realize he’s been holding when he identifies the voice on the other end of the line. “Chan isn’t here right now. What do you want?” 

“I was calling to ask for you, actually, angel.” Mingyu sits up in bed, grinning into the phone. 

The silence on the other end of the line drives up his heart rate ever more, but when he hears shuffling, he’s able to relax a little. You haven’t hung up. “I’ll ask again. What do you want, Mingyu?” 

“Say my name again.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

“N-No!” His face burns at how eager he must sound, but he doesn’t care to play it cool. Maybe with somebody else, but not with you. He has too much to lose to try and impress you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to ask you to remove the spell you put on me.” 

His words cause your stomach to somersault. Truthfully, you’ve had a hard time since meeting, and kissing, Mingyu, too. You know that chalking it up to love at first sight would only exacerbate things. You don’t think it’s merely lust, though, either – you've always been able to restrain yourself. You’re careful with your feelings and your emotions, and there’s something there between you and Mingyu. You don’t know what, exactly, but you know that it can’t be there. You have enough on your plate, constantly worrying about Chan. You can’t add someone else, someone that does the exact same stupid stuff, into the mix. You need this to stop, for his sake and for yours. 

“I-It’s late and you’re probably just horny. Call someone else.” 

“What?” Mingyu’s incredulousness comes through clearly over the phone, and you nearly cringe at how harsh your words were. Still, you can’t indulge this. You shouldn’t. 

You want to. 

“N-No, I... I’m sorry.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair, frustrated. “Mingyu, I don’t fuck with racers. I told you that.” 

“Your roommate races.” 

“Yeah, and I hate that he does that, okay? I worry myself sick over him when he’s off racing. The only thing that I can be thankful about is that he does drag and not streets. But you do streets, too, don’t you?” Mingyu doesn’t respond, and you scoff quietly. “Yeah, I already know that you do. I-I can’t get involved with someone that risks their life all the time for money.” 

‘It’d be different if I were a cop, though, right? Or a firefighter? That’d make me a hero, right? This--” You hear him pause to take a breath. “I'm in love with you, okay? Completely and utterly smitten with you, to the point that it’s takin’ over my life.” Your breath hitches quietly at his confession, but Mingyu makes no indication that he heard you. “This isn’t my career. We can’t all tolerate cushy bureaucracy jobs. This is what I do now, for money, so that I can stop racin’ one day and retire, then and there. I want to enjoy my life. It’ll be more enjoyable if you’re in it. There is nothing else that I can say except for I’m sorry, and I love you.” 

“W-We just met, Mingyu. It hasn’t even been a week.” 

“I like to go fast.” 

You don’t know what else you can say. You can’t proclaim that you love him, not right now, but you’re sure that in a few weeks’ time, that’s where you’d be, too. Still, you know better. Mingyu is here today, but he could be gone the very next time that he has a race. That terrifies you. 

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

Mingyu’s at the end of his short rope. He had called in the first place so that he could hear your voice, thinking that maybe it could help him get to sleep. Now, though, he wishes he hadn’t called. He should’ve just suffered through his insomnia and continued suffering through it. It was better than the rejection he was facing. “Nevermind. Just forget it.” 

“Mingyu--” 

“No, angel, I—you kiss me, and then you push me away. You tell me to fuck off, then you tell me that under different circumstances, you’d be interested. I’ve shown you all of my cards, and you’re not interested in anteing up, so just forget it, okay?” 

You end the call before Mingyu can hear you cry. It’s all too fast, and you’re overwhelmed. You want him, but there’s one part of him that you just can’t accept. You aren’t reckless. You like to think things through, and you don’t do things on a whim. Kissing Mingyu had catalyzed a panic within you that you had lost control, and if you lose control once, you’re bound to do it again. It feels like you’re being backed into a corner with two options to get out: take Mingyu completely as he is or swallow your obvious feelings and leave him as he is. You clutch Chan’s phone tightly against your chest as you sob quietly, hot tears rolling down your cheeks even despite your attempts to stifle them. 

Mingyu, similarly, can’t believe what just happened. He’s too reckless. He bared himself to you too early, and the consequences that he’ll reap will not be good ones. He can’t help how he feels about you, and nobody feels more intensely than Kim Mingyu. He knows that he fucked up. He knows that he can’t come back from this, and he needs to cut his losses and find a way to get rid of his feelings for you. He doesn’t know how he’ll accomplish it, but if he never sees you again, that’ll probably be the fastest way he’ll be able to heal. He’s never cared for someone so deeply before he met you. He’s never known so immediately that he’s been in love. You’re it for him, and he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s already lost you.

+ + +

You shouldn’t have come. You knew that before you got into Chan's car, but now, with Mingyu’s gaze practically burning a hole into the side of your head, it’s been made abundantly clear. 

“Why is he looking at you like that?” Chan whispers while you shift your weight. “You never told me what happened between the two of you.” 

“I don’t want to get into it.” You mutter, willing yourself to look forward and not over at Mingyu, watching you from a distance like a predator observing its prey. It’s been weeks since your phone conversation. You were no less convinced that you were going to be able to forget about him, and a small part of you had hoped that you would come tonight and see somebody else draped around his arm, shocking you back into a state of rationality. 

That isn’t the case though, obviously, and you had to beg Chan to keep to you so that you aren’t vulnerable. You don’t know what you should expect from Mingyu. He’s reckless and volatile, and the way that you feel when you’re around him is... scary. As brief as your first interaction had been, you left with the sense that, if enough time had passed with you in his proximity, he would have replaced the necessity of air with himself; he would’ve become your air, and you would’ve suffocated without him. 

There’s something fantastic about the way that Mingyu has made you feel like you’re breathing and drowning at the same time, with just one little kiss and a simple love confession. 

“He's looking at you like you murdered his dog. Now he’s-- okay, now he’s looking at his phone... he’s looking at you again.” 

“I don’t need the play by play, Chan, thanks.” 

“Tell me what happened!” 

You shake your head. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Fine, then I’m leaving.” 

Your eyes widen and you turn to grab Chan, to pull him back and to keep him as your wall against Mingyu, but he’s out of reach before you’re able to react. In a matter of seconds, Mingyu has crossed the way and is standing in front of you, arms crossed tightly over his chest. You stare at him, horrified. 

He just scoffs. “You’re cruel, you know that?” 

“I-I’m not here--” 

“Yeah, whatever, you’re not here for me.” His hostility takes you aback, even though you know it’s deserved. You can tell from body language alone that Mingyu is still hurting. His words and tone of voice merely confirm that for you. “I-I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over you when you continue to show up to my races.” 

“It’s been weeks already, Mingyu.” 

“Yeah? And has the passage of time made you feel any better?” You don’t respond, turning away so that he can’t notice the tears brimming at your waterline. You’re biting your cheek to keep them from spilling. Mingyu knows better, though, and softens. Just a little. “I told you that I loved you, and I still do. I’m willin’ to do anything for you – anything except quit.” 

That’s the only thing that you need from him, though. “We barely know each other. You don’t love me.” 

“You don't know how I feel. You haven’t bothered to ask.” 

“B-Because you tell me even if I don’t ask! You don’t know me well enough to say that you love me.” 

“I can say whatever I damn well please.” He scoffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “There is somethin’ between us, you can’t deny that, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to foster this spark that we have. That’s love, isn’t it?” 

“That’s--” You cut yourself off, groaning in frustration. His words make your knees feel weak, but you’re not ready to let up the fight. “You’re too nonchalant about this for it to be love. It’s supposed to be something bigger. You can’t just look at someone for the first time and decide that they’re it for you!” 

“I can, and I did.” 

You shake your head, wiping away a stray tear with the heel of your hand. “I-I don’t love you.” 

“You don’t, or you won’t?” 

“You’re a danger to yourself! If you loved me, truly, then you wouldn’t put me through the risk of losing you every time you get behind the wheel.” 

It’s Mingyu’s turn to shake his head. “That’s all I am, then, yeah? I’m just a stupid guy that drives fast for money, and that’s all I’ll ever be?” Even when you open your money to respond, he ignores you and continues talking. “You’re doin’ this on purpose. You don’t want to admit to yourself that I’m more than what you’ve chosen to see. You won’t even give me a chance to be anything else.” 

The conversation is starting to make you dizzy. You press your middle finger to one of your temples, rubbing small circles against your skin. “It was just one kiss, Mingyu.” 

“Then kiss me again and show me that I got worked up over somethin’ that I shouldn’t have.” 

You can’t. You shouldn’t. You know exactly what needs to happen in order to prove to him that you aren’t the one, that he should back off and keep searching for the true love of his life, and you also know that you aren’t going to be able to fake it. You don’t feel your emotions as intensely as Mingyu does, but you’re never going to be able to escape this whirlwind if you kiss him now. 

You kiss him anyway. 

Your hands are trembling as you hold his face, pulling him in and pressing your lips against his. He lets you take the lead, slowly slotting his lips between yours only after you’ve initiated movement. Your actions are impossibly calculated as you try to exercise restraint, but, once again, you forget yourself. Your hands work their way into Mingyu’s hair – it's gotten longer since the last time that you did this – and you grip the strands tightly as you pull him closer. He, on the other hand, remembers his manners. He smiles against your lips before he pulls away, and the soft whimper that he hears from you nearly makes him dive right back in. 

“You’re so full of shit.” He whispers, eyes still closed, his lips ghosting against yours. “You love me.” 

“I-I don’t.” You respond, breathless. 

“Yeah?” He presses his lips against yours again, pulling away when you try to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. He’s taunting you, and you hate that you like it. You hate that he knows exactly what he needs to do to keep you wanting more. “Then we’re done here, I guess.” 

“No, we’re not.” Whispering against his lips draws a shiver up your spine. “Don’t go.” 

“You don’t love me, remember?” 

“Come home with me.” Mingyu stills against you, swallowing thickly. He hopes that you can’t hear his heart thumping loudly against his ribcage. “Skip your race and fuck me instead.” 

His chest tightens, as does his grip on your hip. “You’re---that’s not fair.” 

“I’m in love with a guy that does everything that I stand against. Life isn’t fair.” 

“R-Right.” Mingyu presses his forehead against yours, his eyes shut as he resumes his ministrations against your skin. He can’t believe how the tides have turned, but he’s not going to ruin it. Not again. Both of you are quiet as you even out your breathing, but finally, Mingyu cuts through the silence. “Counteroffer. I fuck you after my race when I’m ten grand richer.” 

“Get a real job, and then I’ll be impressed by you making money.” 

“Like a cop, right?” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss. “Or a firefighter?” Another kiss. “Aren’t men more attractive when they have money?” 

You exhale deeply as you pull yourself away from Mingyu. “Look, I—we—there need to be rules if we’re going to... be something. T-Together.” Mingyu raises his eyebrows in anticipation, and you sigh again. “Sex is a reward that you get when you skip races.” 

“That’s a punishment for both of us.” 

You ignore him and move on. “I don’t want to know details after the fact. Let me know as soon as possible if you’re alive or not.” 

That gets a laugh out of him. “Okay, I promise I will let you know as soon as I can if I die.” 

“That’s... all. For now.” You clasp your hands together, tilting your head as you look at him. “So? Are you skipping tonight.” 

“Baby, it’s ten grand.” Mingyu whines, reaching out and taking both of your hands in his. Your heart skips a few beats while he laces your fingers with his. “I’ll skip the one I have tomorrow. Promise.” 

“Maybe I won’t want to have sex with you tomorrow.” You lilt your words, looking to the side. 

Mingyu sighs loudly, swinging your hands gently. “I’d be content to sit and stare at you, too.” 

+ + +

As expected, Mingyu wins his race and the ten grand. As promised, he skipped his race on the following day and came to see you instead. That’s why you’re in his lap, and why his shirt is already off, and why you’re sure that he can feel how wet you are through your shorts. You opted to forego underwear in favor of easier access, and you made sure to encourage Chan to go out for dinner after his own race, too. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ tease.” Mingyu rasps, sliding a hand under your shirt. His hand travels against the expanse of your abdomen before cupping your breast, settling there to squeeze and knead your flesh as he continues sucking bruises against your collarbone. “Playin’ hard to get but wantin’ me just as bad.” 

“D-Dirty words coming from a p-pretty mouth.” You gasp, paying homage to something he’d said to you the first time that you met. 

Mingyu smiles against you, the feeling of his teeth grazing against the tender spots of your skin making you shiver. “It gets dirtier, angel, don’t worry.” 

You roll your hips against his, eliciting a groan. That spurs you on to do it again, pausing to gyrate against his erection, whimpering quietly at its contact with your core. There are layers of clothes in the way, but you know they’ll be gone soon enough. For now, the sweat collecting on Mingyu’s forehead, the parting of his lips, and the grunts and groans spilling from them are enough to keep you occupied. He squeezes your breast in response to the friction, using his other hand to cup your neck and pull your face down for a kiss. 

You sigh against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, languid movements that correspond well with the rhythm that you’re using to grind on his lap. He pulls away after only a few minutes, eyes following the trail of saliva connecting the two of you until it breaks, and then he looks at you. His pupils are blown out – probably just like yours – and your stomach flips at the wicked grin that blooms on his face. 

“Can I fuck you with my fingers first?” 

The words ignite a fire that quickly spreads across the expanse of your skin. You grip Mingyu’s shoulders and lift yourself off of him, hovering above his lap so that he can pull your shorts off. He groans when he sees that you aren’t wearing underwear, and his mouth waters at the prospect of tasting you. Today, he’ll go easy and prep you with his fingers. Next time, though, he wants his tongue buried in your folds until you’re begging him to stop. 

“Such a tease.” He says again, laughing to himself. “Turn around.” 

You do as he says, and he eases you against him with gentle hands on your shoulders. Your back is pressed against his chest, your heartbeat can be felt so strongly that someone could take your pulse by pressing just about another, and when Mingyu hooks his legs under yours to keep them wedged open, you know that you’re done for. 

He drops his chin and lets it rest on your shoulder, watching as best as he can as he slides his index finger up and down against your entrance, collecting your arousal. “I can’t believe you tried to keep this pretty little pussy from me. It’s mine now, though, isn’t it?” 

“Y-Yes,” You stutter out, gasping once Mingyu inserts his finger. He’s only partially inside, only to the second knuckle, but his fingers are so much longer than yours, and every other time you’ve fingered yourself doesn’t compare to how good it feels to have him inside instead. “It’s yours.” 

“Yeah, it is.” He coos, sliding his finger out and then back in. His rhythm is slow, and his movements are shallow, but as soon as he feels you relax, he’ll give you more. Normally impatient, Mingyu has all the time in the world to fuck you properly. He presses kisses against the side of your neck while he builds up a faster tempo, strands of hair falling over his eyes and tickling the underside of your jaw. You exhale quietly, and once he feels your shoulders drop, he inserts his finger completely on the next thrust. 

You whimper against him, back arching, and he uses the opportunity to wrap an arm across you diagonally, cupping your other breast through your shirt. “Don’t run away from me. I want you to be all stretched out and ready for my cock. You want my cock today, don’t you?” 

“Fuck.” You groan, tilting your head back to rest against Mingyu. He’s gradually picking up speed, and the way that you clench at his words only encourages him to do more; to say more, and to add another finger. So that’s what he does, slow as he brings in his middle finger, starting at just the second knuckle so that you can adjust to the feeling. “I want your c-cock.” 

“I know you do.” He presses his cheek against the side of your head, his lips positioned right against your ear. “You’re gonna get my cock. You’re gonna take it, all of it, everything that I give you tonight.” He punctuates his words by sliding both of his fingers into you fully, and the curl of his fingers makes you cry out involuntarily. He grins to himself and goes again, reaching for that same spot inside of you, grinning even wider when you cry again. “There we go. That’s where my baby likes to get fucked, yeah? Wish my tongue could go that far.” 

“Y-Your cock can reach.” 

Mingyu laughs out loud, stilling his fingers inside of you to stroke your g-spot again and again. “That’s true. I’ll make you cum with my cock next. Sound good?” You’re trembling in his arms, your legs having tried to clamp shut several times. He falls into a rhythm of cramming his fingers inside, hooking them and nudging your g-spot with them, and sliding them back out, and he gets so focused on making you cum that he furrows his brow, lips parted in the concentration. 

You’re panting loudly now, thrashing as best as you can in his hold, unable to run from the pleasure that’s edging closer and closer. “M-Mingyu--” 

“Fuck, say my name again, baby.” 

“K-Keep—fuck—M-Min--” 

“You’re doin’ so good. My pretty baby, such an angel.” 

It’s the praise that finally sends you toppling over the cliff; that, and his thumb kneading your clit, which you hadn’t even noticed until he stills his movements. You clench around Mingyu as you orgasm, and his ego grows three sizes at the ironclad grip that your pussy has on his fingers. He brings his free hand up to stroke the side of your face as you come, still pinning you against him with his forearm to keep you from slumping forward. “You don’t wanna let me go, huh? Want to stay like this forever?” 

“N-No.” You sigh, the stars in your vision finally subsiding. Your chest heaves up and down as you work to catch your breath, leaning back against Mingyu and turning your head to place a kiss against his cheek. “You promised to fuck me properly. Unless you’re too tired...” 

“Angel, if you’re implyin’ that I’m all speed and no stamina--” 

“I’m not implying anything. I’m wondering why your dick is still in your pants and not inside of me.” 

Mingyu stares at you, then blinks, and then smiles. It’s a real, genuine smile, not his signature smirk or crooked, self-satisfied grin. He tilts your chin up to place a proper kiss on your lips and then reaches behind him, blindly feeling the top of your nightstand until he finds the condom he’d brought. He eases you off his lap and fully rolls off the bed, offering you reprieve while he brings his cock out of his shorts. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he pumps himself, rolling on the condom with haste you haven’t seen from any of your previous sexual partners before. 

“We’re gonna go slow, okay?” He asks, slotting himself between your legs. He’s careful as he maneuvers himself around your limbs, groaning to himself once you wrap your legs around him and cross your ankles. You’re so eager now, but just yesterday, you almost rejected him for the second time. “Th-- y-you’re not going slow, angel.” 

“I thought you liked to go fast.” You draw out your words, lilting your voice. Mingyu ignores your comment, just this once, and grips you by one of your hips. He’s concentrated as he lines himself up at your entrance before letting go of his cock and swiping a finger against your folds again. You furrow your brows, sitting up as best as you can to look at him. 

He has the finger in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it. He only notices you staring at him once he pulls it out of his mouth. He grins, a little bashful, as he looks back down and grabs his dick again. “I forgot to taste you.” 

You clench around nothing at his words, groaning softly, but when he finally presses the tip of his cock against your slit, it feels like a jolt of electricity. You do your best to lay still as he inches inside of you, stopping every time that he feels resistance against him, but the tip of his cock nudges against your g-spot when he finally bottoms out and your back arches. Your hands flail around, looking for something to hold, something to keep you anchored, but you just have to settle for gripping the sheets on either side of you. You crumble the fabric in your hands, eyes squeezed shut, letting yourself adjust the feeling of Mingyu inside of you. 

Maybe today will be fine, but you can easily foresee having an insanely hot boyfriend with a big dick as being a problem in the future. 

“Let me know when I can move, baby.” 

“Can’t we just stay like this forever?” You sigh, lolling your head to the side and looking up at Mingyu. The sight makes your heart flutter; his hair is sweaty, pushed back at the forehead but with strands still obscuring parts of his vision; the different scratches, bruises, and bites that you’d given him while making out were finally starting to bloom red on his skin. He’s looking back at you, and the look in his eyes makes you think that he’d be content with that, too. “You can quit... y’know, your job... and just become my trophy husband. Keep the house clean and fuck me through my Zoom meetings.” 

“Sounds like a dream. Did we really go this far just so you could cockwarm me, though?” 

“No.” You laugh, reaching out for Mingyu. He meets you halfway, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You can move now.” 

You don’t hear it clearly, but you swear that Mingyu whispers Thank God to himself before he slides his hands just above your ass, hoisting up your hips for the best angle. His initial pace is slow, painstakingly slow, but the string of moans that falls from your lips spurs him to speed up. At first, he sheaths himself completely inside of you before pulling almost completely out, leaving just the head of dick inside before thrusting back up into you. As he continues, though, he’s more urgent. He wants to minimize the amount of time he spends not inside of you, so his thrusts become shallower. He’s soon thrusting into you at breakneck speed, slowing every so often to make sure his angle is right and that you’re enjoying this just as much as he is. 

“How we doin’, angel?” 

“I want to ride you next time.” 

“Fuck.” Mingyu groans, sliding a hand up to caress your calf. The room is quiet, save for the squeaking of your bedframe and the sound of Mingyu’s balls slapping against you with every thrust. Every so often, he thrusts perfectly, and you’re brought up from the bed again. Mingyu curses himself that he didn’t ask you to take your shirt off – this would all be even better if your tits were bouncing in his face. “A-Are you close? What do you need from me?” 

You hold out your hand, and he grabs it. You’ll be able to show him better than tell him. You lead his hand down, pressing his thumb against your clit again. He immediately gets to work, rolling the nub between his thumb and index finger, and you hold onto his wrist as you gasp for air. His touch is cool against your feverish skin, and you tell yourself that you’re royally fucked just as Mingyu’s thrusts become staccato. 

“I--I’m--” 

“Inside, Mingyu, p-please.” You sigh, using your free hand to caress his bicep. “Cum inside of m-me.” 

“A-Are you s-s--” 

You draw him in closer to you, and the squeeze his body against yours, and the squeeze of your pussy around him, does exactly what it should. He’s loud as he cums, his body spasming as he shoots inside of you. You’re disappointed at the lack of warmth, warmth you would’ve felt if he hadn’t worn a condom, but there will be time for unprotected. For now, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself to orgasm while Mingyu rides out his own. 

You’re afraid that you’ve lost it, but Mingyu recovers quickly enough to resume his ministrations against your clit. For good measure, he leans down and kisses you, and all of the sensations – his cock still inside of you, his fingers on your clit, his tongue shoved down your throat – are enough to bring you back up and back over the cliff. Your whimpers are drowned out by Mingyu’s grunts as you squeeze around him. He lowers himself onto you completely as you ride out your orgasm, trembling and spasming underneath him until you’re finally able to go still. He finds enough energy to lift his head and look at your face, laughing when he notices the tear that’d rolled down your cheek. 

“Cute.” He reaches up and brushes it away with his finger, letting his arm drape across you. You don’t know how long the two of you lay like that; Mingyu, pressed on top of you, his cock still nestled inside of you, one arm draped across your body with his face nuzzled into your neck and you, pinned against the mattress, one hand caressing his back while the other cards through his hair. It feels like it’s been mere seconds, but an eternity could pass, and you’d still feel like it wasn’t enough time.

+ + +

It’s the call that you always expected, but simultaneously, always hoped you’d never get. 

You’re numb as you rise from your bed, rifling through your drawers in the dark for clothes to change into. It doesn’t feel like you’re responsible for moving through your bedroom, getting dressed as best one can when they can’t feel anything. Chan is already waiting for you at the front door, unwilling to look at your face as he leads you out, locking the door behind the two of you and following you into the elevator just as the doors start to close. He must’ve gotten a call, too. 

It feels right to drive in complete silence. You’re unable to convince yourself to bring your eyes into focus. Maybe, if you don’t look, then this won’t be real: you aren’t actually en route to the hospital’s emergency room, and you didn’t actually get a call from an unknown number, telling you that Mingyu had crashed during his race and that he was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. Chan isn’t actually driving you, speechless and quiet for the first time since you’d met him. You aren’t actually being led through the tiled corridor of the hospital, harsh fluorescent lights guiding your venture down the endless hallway toward your boyfriend’s room. 

Mingyu is drinking from a juice box when you finally set eyes on him. That little fucker. 

All things considered, he looks fine. His left arm is in a sling, and there’s a deep horizontal gash underneath one of his eyes, and there are bruises starting to bloom along the crook of his neck. Otherwise, though, he’s fine. He isn’t intubated, and actually, the only other things attached to him are an IV and the heart rate monitor clipped onto his finger. 

Chan enters the room a few seconds after you, letting out a huge sigh of relief at the sigh. He holds a hand to his forehead before swinging back around and stepping outside. He knows that he doesn’t want to hear the words you’ll choose to say to Mingyu. 

“I love you. I love you so, so, so much.” 

“Fuck you.” You spit, drawing in your arms and crossing them over your chest. He knows that he deserves this, but he still winces at the venom dripping from your words and the daggers that you’re shooting at him with your eyes. “I thought that you died, you fucking asshole! You—I am so fucking mad right now, I don’t even know what to say.” 

“I’m sorry. I-I was careful, I promise.” 

“You’re a fucking liar! You’re in the hospital, Mingyu. Careful people don’t go to the hospital!” 

You sit on the chair in the corner, purposefully away from your boyfriend, even though you didn’t miss the way that he scooted to the side in his bed to make room for you. You’re able to see his face better from this angle. He looks... tired. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced, and for the first time since you’ve met him, he doesn’t look happy following one of his races. Figures, since he’d crashed his car. Still, there’s something different about him today. 

“You must’ve been worried. I’m sorry, my angel.” 

You sigh loudly, shaking your head. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be my boyfriend that works a shitty job. Hell, you don’t even need to work. We can survive on my income, and I can come home to you every day and that’ll be enough, because I’ll be happy, and you’ll be alive.” You take a breath after your monologue, exhaling slowly. “Because that’s the bar that you’ve set. I’m just happy that you’re still breathing.” 

“I have somethin’ to say, too.” You look up at him, raising your eyebrows and clasping your hands together. Mingyu chews on his bottom lip for a few moments before he sighs, too. “I’m a racer. I’ve been racin’ for... God, I don’t know. I’ve been racin’ for a long time.” You let your head fall, anticipating what he’s going to say. “All that I’ve ever cared about is going fast and makin’ money. And then I met you, and my priorities... shifted. A little.” You squeeze your hands together, willing yourself to calm down. Mingyu was proving your assumptions wrong with his words, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself. 

“You... I think I’d rather die than lose you. I-I guess, if I died, that I would lose you, but th—that's not the point. I started fallin’ in love with you the very moment that I first saw you, and since then, I haven’t wanted to take my eyes off you. You’re everythin’ to me now. Racin’ is... I’ll quit. I’m sorry, and I love you, and I’ll quit if it means that we’ll stay together.” 

Hot tears are already rolling down your cheeks, and as hard as you try to keep that from Mingyu, your sniffling gives you away. He coos from his place in bed and starts to throw his blankets off to approach you, but you hold your hand up and he stills. Offering another sniffle, you rise from your chair, sitting on the edge of his hospital bed. He looks at you, expectantly, and you, begrudgingly, reach out a hand. You weren’t expecting to forgive him so quickly. 

“Can you look at me? Please?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Angel, please.” Mingyu takes your hand, trying to tug you closer to him. “Look at me. I just... you’re doin’ that thing again, where you let me bare my soul and then don’t really respond.” 

You shake your head, tears flying from your eyes and landing on the hospital blanket covering Mingyu’s legs. He scoffs, using his other hand to reach forward and tilt your chin up. Seeing you cry makes his heart split and shatter, and tears start to form in his own eyes. 

“I’m so fucking mad at you, Mingyu.” 

He bites his tongue to refrain from cracking a joke, as he normally would. Instead, he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “And I want to stick around, so that I can keep makin’ you mad.” 

“You promise?” You ask, searching his eyes for any hint of dishonesty. “You’re really done racing?” 

“I don’t break my promises. Not the ones that I make to you. I promise, I swear, that I’m done.”

+ + +

“Baby, it’s late. Can we just go to sleep? Please?” 

“I’m making room in your closet for my clothes, Gyu.” You scoff, pulling out another jacket. You glance over it before flipping it around, showing it to your boyfriend. “Do you wear this?” 

He furrows his brows, thinking it over before dismissing you with a wave. “Not really.” 

“Okay.” You toss the jacket into the box you’d designated for donating, dropping the hanger on the closet floor. Mingyu yawns loudly, stretching out in the middle of his bed. You know what he’s doing; he’s trying to entice you into joining him. He wants to persuade you to stop doing the task that he’d already put off for weeks in favor of crawling into his lap, maybe going to sleep or maybe not. Still, you’re not ready to quit yet. You pull out another jacket and repeat your actions, holding it in front of you for Mingyu to inspect it. 

“Donate.” 

You nod, silently agreeing with his decision. You reach back into the closet, reaching for the next jacket to pull out, but your fingers freeze when you realize what you’re touching. You pull out the leather jacket slowly – Mingyu's racing jacket. It’s the one that he was wearing the first time that you kissed him, and the second time. He wore it for your first date, claiming that it was ‘good luck,’ and he even wore it that one time that you let him fuck you against the hood of his racecar. You hold your breath as you turn around, and Mingyu’s expression darkens when he realizes what you’re holding. 

He doesn’t know how to play this. It’s been months since his accident, which means it’s been months since he quit racing. He misses it sometimes, but you’re more important to him. He lets each day drag on so long as they promise, that at sundown, he’ll be able to come back to his apartment and you’ll be waiting, smiling, happy, healthy. That jacket means a lot to him. 

“Donate.” 

You mean more to him. 

“Aw, really?” You whine, looking back down at the jacket. Mingyu scoffs and pushes himself further up on the bed, watching closely as you run your fingertips along the leather. “You looked so good when you used to wear this. I think my mouth was watering the first time we met.” 

“Fuck off.” Mingyu laughs, waving you away again. “You keep it then, angel. I looked good in the jacket because I’m good looking. Please don’t attribute my good looks to my jackets.” 

You put the jacket back into the closet regardless, finally shuffling across the room to the bed. You sigh as you let yourself fall onto the mattress, groaning as Mingyu rolls you onto your stomach and then tugs you closer to him. You let him do all the work, only shifting once he’s positioned underneath you. You let one of your hands snake underneath his shirt, resting on his abdomen and applying pressure, just for good measure. 

“Do you miss it?” You whisper, cheek smushed against his cheek. 

“Sometimes.” Mingyu whispers back, tracing shapes against your back. “I think it suited me. I was good at makin’ split-second decisions, and it worked because the only person affected by those decisions was me. And then...” He trails off, considering his next words carefully. “Then I met the love of my life, and they tried so hard to hate me and push me a—hey!” 

He whines as you pinch him, prying your hand off him. He tsks at you, shaking his head before continuing his story. “As I was saying, the love of my life wanted to push me away ‘cause they didn’t want to be attached to someone with so little regard for their own life. And I couldn’t blame them, y’know? I wasn’t happy about it, though, so I kept tryin’ and, somehow, it worked.” 

“I already know the story, Gyu.” You grumble. Still, you’ll never get tired of hearing him refer to you as the love of his life. You still have no idea how he knew, from that very first moment, that it had to be you, though. “I love you too. I don’t think I say it enough.” 

“I didn’t want this to become sappy.” He sneers, pinching your cheek. “I was actually hopin’ that you’d ride my face.” 

“I’m tired.” You yawn, replacing your hand on his chest, over his shirt, and rubbing up and down along his abdomen. “I could give you a hand job, though.” 

“Don’t want that.” Mingyu groans. 

You lift your eyebrows in surprise. Your boyfriend, turning down a hand job? You lift your hand up and press the back of it against his forehead. “You don’t have a fever, though.” 

“You’re annoying.” He scowls. “You just told me that you don’t want me to eat you out, and I’m not makin’ a big deal of it.” 

You let your hand drop from Mingyu’s forehead, tracing your fingertips along his jaw. “If we’re both tired, we can just fuck in the morning.” 

“We don’t fuck in the morning.” You offer him a quizzical look. He wraps both of his arms around you, squeezing you and rolling both of you until you’re on your back and his cheek is pressed against your stomach. “In the morning, we make love.” 

“Didn’t you call me a slut the last time that we made love?” 

He lifts his head up, narrowing his eyes at you. “You liked it.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You sigh, easing your fingers through Mingyu’s hair and forcing his head back down, onto your stomach. “Where do you think you’d be if we hadn’t met?” 

“Wildly unhappy.” He scoffs. “Dead. What about you?” 

You hum quietly, scratching against his scalp. “Probably... also unhappy. Well, I don’t think that I wasn’t happy before I met you, but I think, right now, I’m the happiest that I’ve ever been.” 

The two of you lapse into silence. The sounds of the neighborhood – dogs barking, cars honking – seep through every so often, but you hardly noticed, aware, instead, of your boyfriend’s presence. When you first met Mingyu, you knew that he would find a way to infiltrate your life, to become the oxygen that you needed to breathe. When you first met Mingyu, you felt like you were breathing and drowning at the same time. Nowadays, you don’t feel like you’re drowning, but you aren’t breathing normally, either. It’s the same for him, you’re sure; it’s all about him, even when it isn’t. You could be focused on something else, but you’ll never be able to fully attend to anything else. 

It’s for this reason that you’ve had to scold him, on so many occasions, to keep his eyes on the road when driving. He just can’t seem to focus on anything but you, and somehow, his recklessness has worn off and you find yourself in the same predicament. 

Just as you finally shut your eyes, you feel Mingyu twitching against you. 

He’s laughing. “It’s a good thing that you decided to fuck with a racer, huh?”

#mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #svt x reader #mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu scenarios #svt scenarios #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #hengqarae #1k #1.5k

[toruro]

— ✧ trust (fall)

pairing: kim mingyu x reader

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.

tags. smut (18+), mingyu's mean for maybe a second, dirty talk, messy sex :p, UNEDITED!

w/c. 1.5k

a/n. this request just itches a part of my brain in the best way possible and it's been driving me crazy help

"mingyu, i don't think we can—"

"baby," he whines, digging his fingers into your hips. "c'mon, i can do it." his hard is pressing into your pelvis and mingyu already fingered you in the car, forcing you to sit still in your own wetness afterwards and be a patient little good girl while he drives you both home. you're unbearably needy now and aching to be fucked, but there's a small twinge of worry that seeps through you when mingyu pushes you against the wall.

you frown, looking up at him. "what if i fall?" you reason, and mingyu sighs, putting an arm up against the wall next to your head, putting his bare, large arm on display. your stomach churns at the implication, and you can't help but stare at the muscles of his bicep.

"don't you trust me?" mingyu reasons, and when he looks at you with those puppy eyes, you know you can't resist.

“mingyu…” your voice trails off and you give him a look. your boyfriend pouts and leans back, bringing up his arm and flexing it in front of you with a smirk. his muscles shift and are ever so prominent, the view sending shivers down your spine.

“baby,” he says again, a smug smile adorning his lips when watching the way lust overtakes your face. “trust me,” mingyu tells you, reaching down to grip one of your thighs to bring it up, hooking your leg around his torso.

there’s a twinge of worry in your mind, but all that is pushed away as you focus on the growing wet spot that stains your panties beneath you. “o-okay,” you murmur in agreement, wrapping your arms around mingyu’s neck and bringing your standing foot to your tippy toes. “but if you drop me, i’m not having sex with you for a month,” you warn into his neck, pressing a loving kiss into the skin afterwards.

mingyu chuckles, pressing you harder into the wall and pushing his pants and boxers down in one you. “don’t worry baby,” he reassures, allowing you to bring your other leg up around his waist, ankles crossing behind him, “plus, i know you wouldn’t be able to hold out that long anyways.”

you gasp quietly when his strong, large hands grapple at your thighs, one hand pushing your panties to the side to expose your wet folds to the cool air. your face is still buried into mingyu’s neck, a little too scared to put any distance between you and him.

your about to say something along the lines of telling mingyu to speed it up, but then you feel the familiar sensation of his warm, thick cock brushing through your folds and that shuts you up real tight. digging your face into the crook under his jaw further, you press your chest close to mingyu’s.

“ready baby?” he asks cautiously as he aligns himself with your entrance.

“yeah, ‘m ready gyu,” you confirm, squeezing your eyes tight when he sinks the tip in. mingyu’s big, he knows it. even after he’s prepped you with one, two, and sometimes even three orgasms, fitting him in at first always seems to be a struggle. mingyu doesn’t mind though, of course—he’s patient with you forever and always. after all, how bad can it be if he gets to be inside your pussy longer, basking in the way you let out soft moans and squeaks as you grow to adjust to him.

when you’re finally giving the green light—“you can move gyu”—he doesn’t hesitate to push upwards and hit deeper inside of you. he’s hardly done anything, honestly, and the action already has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

your back is pressed against the wall so hard you almost think you might complain about the dull ache, but then mingyu is pulling back and thrusting back into you, filling you ‘til the hilt and punching out moans.

you feel as if the air is being forced out of your lungs with every thrust, your body throttling against mingyu’s as you grip on to his biceps and back to steady yourself. it isn’t so much about concern for your own safety anymore, no, now it’s about making sure you ground yourself and don’t go crazy from the way he’s fucking into you.

“look,” mingyu growls, and the sound is so animalistic and you’re so fucked out you’re are his mercy, pulling your head back against the wall so you can direct your gaze to the sloppy, wet mess beneath you. “look at the fucking mess you’ve made. acting all scared and—fuck—“ he grunts with one especially deep thrust that has your nails clawing at his back, “—and nervous but i bet you wanted this, huh? wanted me to fuck you into this wall so hard you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

your vision begins to go hazy the more you watch his cock disappear inside of you every time he snaps his hips upwards, your body jerking with every movement. your wetness is coating his cock, your own drool dribbling down and adding to the mess which is slowing dripping down onto the floor. there’s a filthy puddle that’s forming beneath the two of you, but you can’t even think about how embarrassing this will be the next morning to try and clean it up.

the back of your head is lightly hitting the wall, and you aren’t sure if it’s the impact or the sheer force of mingyu inside your cunt that has your mind going blank as you babble, “yes, mingyu, yes—fuck—feel so good gyu, you make me feel so-so-so good.”

“my pretty baby finally believes me?” mingyu breaths out between groans as his thrusts become more sloppy and rougher as you both begin to approach your ends.

“yes!” you cry out, pressing your forehead to mingyu’s not taking your eyes off his cock buried inside your cunt. “so god, gyu, ‘m gonna cum. can i cum, please? gyu, i promise i’ll be good forever, please can i cum?” you beg, face so hot and so in proximity to mingyu’s that you can see his eyes darken right in front of you.

“fucking cum for me, cum on me baby. make a fucking mess,” mingyu demands, pounding into you harder at the confirmation that you’re about to be thrown off the edge. your walls are on fire, hot around him and clenching as if your life depended on him and his cock and honestly, in this moment that is quite the truth.

you cry out his name, biting down on your bottom lip to muffle the strangled moans that threaten to escape as you shake with pleasure. the sensation of your orgasm, heightened with mingyu’s relentless cock, has your vision blurring with tears as he grips your thighs harder.

he’s fucking into you impossibly fast now, and you can’t even fathom how he has it in him after holding you up for so long. as the overstimulation starts to catch up to you as mingyu begins to chase his own high, all you can do is lay limp in his arms, legs weakly shaking around his torso as you struggle to keep your grip.

“hold on for me baby,” mingyu instructs as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, “hold on to me for just—fuck—just a second.” all you can manage out is a few meek moans and squeaks as his hips snap upwards once or twice more before he stills and then there’s that familiar feeling of hot quite liquid shooting deep into your cunt, marking your walls white, claiming you as his.

mingyu lazily rolls his hips a few last times, riding out the trail of his orgasm before you both have time to finally settle in the sound of your heavy pants, admiring the sheen layer of sweat that coats his skin.

looking up at you with sparkling brown eyes, mingyu finally breaks out a grin and that’s when you feel yourself finally being pulled into reality. “are you okay baby?” he asks worriedly, “i didn’t go too hard, did i?”

“no,” you murmur, shaking your head as you unwind your legs and let mingyu slip out of you. the feeling of being empty has you going queasy and as soon as your feet hit the ground, your knees wobble and you stumble forward into mingyu’s arm. his eyes narrow at you, giving you a look.

“are you sure? are you hurt?”

“no, mingyu, you just happen to be as strong as you claim,” you admit with a roll of your eyes. mingyu’s eyes light up as the words sink in, and he swoops down to press a kiss on your cheek.

“really baby? glad you agree—we should do this more often.” you laugh and steady yourself on your legs once more, still gripping onto his hand for support.

“maybe…or maybe we can try new places to see how versatile your strength is…”

“baby, you can’t say that shit,” mingyu warns. “next thing you know and i’ll carry you and fuck you without the wall.”

you laugh right now, but there’s a little bit of excitement pooling at your stomach, and if there’s one thing that you know, it’s that mingyu always sticks to his word.

#kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt smut #seventeen smut #📝 writing

[chanswifey]

Seventeen as your boyfriend | Mingyu

The golden retriever boyfriend

Don't let the muscles mislead you, this man is the biggest baby girl to ever baby girl

Little spoon energy

Follows you around like a puppy everywhere

Big husband material, does all your chores for you just because

And if he knows there's one that you especially despise he will refuse to let you do it

Always tries to cook for you when he's home, and won't let you help because it's his job to make sure you are eating well

Never let you pay when you two are out

Not sure why but he gives off a bit of homebody vibes, he sure does like to go out but if all you want is to stay inside and cuddle you will not catch him complaining

He's a sucker for praises

Please tell him he's pretty, he loves it

Turns bright red when you do it and forgets how to speak *cuts to him shyly tucking his hair behind his ear*

Another member who gets very protective in public, and let's be honest it's not hard for him to look threatening

The members tease him about it (obviously) because the moment you guys get to a private setting he turns into this big teddy bear but you think it's really cute

Big fan of PDA and pet names, he never uses your name like ever

Uses every single one of them and sometimes comes up with new ones when he's trying to annoy you

Randomly walks up to you, cups your face with both hands and places kisses all over it

Back hugs you at any given time

Cooking? Great time for a back hug

Showering? He was planning on washing his hair anyway

Will 100% wash your hair for you if you ask, like it's part of his job what do you mean?

Wakes you up by laying on top of you and refusing to leave

"Gyu I can't breathe," you say struggling to finish the sentence

"If I leave you're gonna get up", he answers, still sleepy

"If you don't leave I die!"

Bickering is his love language, even if it's over the stupidest subject, but it's always a good laugh in the end

Treats you to a fancy dinner every chance he gets because he cannot pass the opportunity to put on a suit and tease the shit out of you

He also loves it when you dress up for him, and if you wear something he gifted you it's even better

His clumsy ass can't go one day without dropping something so it's always funny to go out and try not to laugh at him

You two sometimes ditch the fancy restaurant and end up eating ice cream at the park late at night looking like you just came out of a YSL runway

And those are low-key the best dates you guys have

Gushes about you to the members so much they have to tell him to shut up sometimes

Texting 24/7

Always sending you random pics of him while he's away

He is your very own personal trainer

It's his favorite thing in the world that the two of you can work out together

He also thinks you look really hot lifting weights

Couple pictures at the gym mirror

Takes care of your diet and gives you advice on workouts

He's literally the embodiment of acts of service

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

2023 © chanswifey — do not repost or translate

mlist | request here | what I write

#took me long enough i guess #sorry for that but life has been crazy #i hope you guys like this one #i will try to post the next one soon #boyfriend series #seventeen boyfriend series #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu headcanons #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu headcanon #svt #seventeen #svt imagines #svt headcanons #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen headcanons #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu x reader

[seoulcheonsa]

Closure

Mingyu (SVT) x fem!reader Tags: angst, slight fluff, but this is just angst until the end (a little comfort?) WC: 2.5k Warnings: nothing aside from angst im sorry

in which ex!mingyu and fem!reader see each other at their favorite resto

There was comfort in the silent chatter of the restaurant. The warm lights added a soft glow to her skin and everything else around. She sat alone near the floor-length windows, where the rest of the tables for 2 were. The place looked exactly like it did a year ago, the plants and décor, save for the new employees. It had been that long since she sat down in this restaurant, completely avoiding any chance of dining in this all-too-familiar venue.

A hushed conversation between a waiter and a new guest made her look up as they walked towards the tables. In between the diners who ate away and chatted away wove through a tall man that she would recognize anywhere. His hair was neatly swept off his forehead, a dashing smile on his face as he thanked the waiter, and his button-down shirt aptly pressed crisp.

Mingyu sat down, promptly looking around as his server took away the menu and put down his drink. She debated whether or not to keep her gaze, but her mental battle took too long because he had already locked his eyes onto hers. His stare changed from surprise to confusion to recognition in a few seconds, but not once did he break eye-contact. Her hands were in her lap, twisting in anxiety, so she grabbed onto the pendant that sat between her collarbones.

-

A year ago, this restaurant bustled just the same, but she never noticed it. How could she? When in front of her sat the most magnetic and charismatic man she has laid her eyes on. He carried himself with such confidence that never crossed over to arrogance, all while being kind and patient. No one else in that room could ever steal away her attention, she was a sunflower and he was the sun.

Mingyu’s smile never faltered as he cut up her food for her. He always insisted that unless necessary, she lean on him for anything, and he’ll do the rest. Both were firstborns in the family, and Mingyu knew the emotional tax that she had to pay for the rest of her life. Unlike him, she wasn’t lucky enough to be born to an ideal family. So, from the moment that their relationship progressed into something more serious, he told her “Baby, it’s time for you to accept things and accept happiness without worrying about the consequences.” Naturally, she was taken aback, hearing such words for the first time in her 2 decades of living.

Throughout their dating phase, she has always subtly refused a lot of his attempts at doing things for her, never wanting to be a burden, much less to the person she likes in fear of driving him away. That is, until one day a week after they had agreed to date exclusively, he wanted to buy her the computer keyboard that she had been eyeing for months. It wasn’t expensive, but it fairly costed more than a regular keyboard, so she knew she had to save for it. Mingyu, who had a better paying job, wanted to buy it for her as a gift. So, in the end, he bought it for her as a surprise, which led to a small argument, but Mingyu’s assurance struck something in her that made her realize how scared she had been of letting other people do things for her.

Their relationship was set to be endgame. Mingyu’s parents loved having her around, she was always invited over to their house for dinner, spontaneous trips, and holidays in a different city. Her family treated him like he was already part of the family, he was included in family dinners, get-togethers, and they relied on him like he was their son, cousin, and brother. They have met each other’s friends as well with no hitch. To them, this was it, and that was what Mingyu had always told her before they went to sleep.

“You’re it for me, baby,” he whispers as he tucks her hair behind her ear, laid across her with his other arm under her neck.

She giggles, softly hitting his shoulder. “Where is this coming from?” she says while shaking her head, a grin on her lips.

“Baby, you’re my dream girl. Everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner is in you,” he chuckles. “If 13-year-old me found out that you would be my girlfriend, he would never believe me.”

However, like any relationship, misunderstandings were inevitable. Mingyu always wanted to be the strong one in the relationship. He wanted everyone around him to be able to rely on him; and for that to happen, he felt like he could never show any of the struggles he faced. The one person he could never lie to was her, it would take every ounce of strength in his body and then some more to tell her anything other than the truth. Because that was her, she hated nothing more than liars and cheaters. Her family was torn apart by lies and infidelity, and he knew he would never be able to forgive himself if he made her go through that again. But Mingyu was Mingyu, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel like she couldn’t lean on him just because he was having troubles of his own.

As a result, whenever things went wrong for him, he shut down and drowned himself in work. He took more projects at work, more responsibilities in hopes that if he had more work than problems, then he would never have to think of them. Ever observant, she would take notice that he would come home later than usual, avoiding conversations, and forgetting to take care of himself. For days, she would beg him to talk to her.

“What happened to me and you against the problem, baby?” she sobbed, sitting on the floor while he occupied the sofa, his head in his hands.

“I thought we always talked things out, that we’d never leave the other in the dark.”

“I’m sorry, love. I just got so caught up in everything, I thought I could just bury it all down.”

She looked up at him in disbelief. It was not just him forgetting to take care of himself, but he also forgot that there was someone at home waiting up for him every night, just to find out that he was purposefully avoiding her and sometimes even drinking out late at night without any notice. This led to smaller arguments and him lashing out at her for the smallest things, which he would then dismiss as just nothing. “So, you thought just lying to me and shutting me out was better?”

At this, he blanched, as if a bucket of cold water washed over him. He did not realize just how far he was in his head, even neglecting his dream girl in the process.

“No, baby. I’m sorry, okay? I don’t want us to fight over this, it physically hurts me when we fight,” he knelt next to her, one hand over his heart and the other cupping her jaw.  “I’ll be better for you, no more hiding.”

For the following weeks, it was good. Mingyu communicated better, she learned when to give him space. But Mingyu was a man of habit, and she was too observant for her own good. The change in behavior only lasted for so long until they were back to their old habits. This meant that there was a suffocating tension between them that they never addressed until she exploded.

“How are you so okay with me begging for your time? Begging for you to talk to me?” She stood far from him on the other end of the coffee table. Her face was swollen from crying the whole day, her nose red. She had been waiting for him to get home the whole day, dreading this conversation that she felt might be the last. For weeks, she had asked him over and over if they were okay or if he was having any trouble. Because not only was he affected, but she was too and their relationship. It reached the point where she would assume the worst, because she knew nothing, and he told her nothing. She asked herself every day if she was lacking anything, if there was someone else who was giving him what he needed. This was not a thought she wanted to entertain, but when he was giving her all the reasons to think otherwise, what could she do?

“I’m not. I’m trying, okay?”

His curt answer only served to rile her up more. She felt pathetic and desperate, begging for her boyfriend to stop treating her like she was just a gust of wind. In the end, they decided to give it a break and just go to sleep. A feeling they both hated, but maybe they needed to give things a rest.

Things just sorted themselves in time. She got used to his absence, only asking how he was once in a while, and he kept engrossing himself in work. On his birthday, she surprised him with tickets to an amusement park that he’s been wanting to visit for about a year but never got to because of his schedule. She planned this trip for a month, making sure that he was free on that day.

For the rest of the month, they filled the roles of a sweet couple. The problem was swept under a carpet and left simmering. She knew that at one point, this would blow up in their faces. The way they were acting like they were just playing their parts was unsustainable. It felt like the relationship was superficial.

-

“I need you to sit down for what I’m about to tell you,” he looked at her with sad eyes. Her heart dropped to her stomach, and she started bracing herself for the worst. It was like she went through all the stages of grief all at once in her head.

He explained that while on his way from work a week before, he felt lonely. It was his birthday week, and he was looking for someone to come talk to him; so his solution was to download an app and find a person to keep him company. The sinking feeling was gnawing at her, but she kept a straight face. She expected this anyway, so there was no surprise in what he was saying. However, the betrayal that she felt was nothing like she anticipated, nothing could ever prepare her for the gut-wrenching feeling of being betrayed by the person you thought would never hurt you.

“I’ve been begging you for months to talk to me, begging for even 15 minutes of your time so we can sort things out,” she started with resignation in her voice, “but you wanted to go and find a stranger to talk to, to keep you company on your birthday?”

“I promise you nothing else happened, and I didn’t end up meeting anyone.”

“I don’t fucking care. You had a girlfriend at home, willing to make everything work, but you just find it so easy to keep treating me like I’m nothing. And now you’re out here acting like you’re fucking single. You can’t even be bothered to text me that you’ll be out late because you were out drinking with your friend and her boyfriend.”

“How could you look at me and tell me you love me?”

Mingyu spent the night crying and apologizing. He knew he didn’t deserve any forgiveness, but he at least wanted to let her know that he was sorry and that he didn’t cheat. That same night, her best friend picked her up along with a bag of clothes and a heavy heart.

-

After the fallout, they had a conversation to discuss what happened and finalize the breakup. There, she found out that the reason he was shutting her out was that Mingyu’s family was falling apart, and that his boss at work was giving him a hard time. His parents were getting into constant screaming matches and fights, needlessly dragging him into the arguments. At work, his boss berated him on almost a daily basis and criticized his work that was otherwise praised by the rest of the company. As they talked, she understood, like she always did. Like she would have if only he had told her, but it was too late.

Mingyu was never a bad guy in her eyes, nor was he a bad guy in reality. He was always patient, understanding, and he only ever wanted to take care of her and her needs. However, in the midst of all that, he forgot to take a moment to check on himself and cope properly. In the end, he neglected himself and those around him. He always put others first, but it ultimately destroyed him and his relationship.

-

He noticed her fingers wrapped around the red pendant upon her chest, a gift that he saved his first ever paycheck for. It was a dainty gold necklace with a red clover that hung from it. He always thought that she looked her best in red, so he decided on the color and a clover because she had always been his lucky charm. His dream girl, sitting tables away from him still donning the gift he worked so hard for, in their favorite restaurant. Mingyu wanted to walk over to her table and catch up, maybe find the words to ask if she still felt the same after all this time. However, he knew deep down that that wasn’t best for them.

When Mingyu’s eyes flitted down for a second, she became all too aware that she was holding onto her necklace. A habit that she did to soothe her nerves. She knew he recognized the necklace; it was the only thing she kept after storing away all the gifts he gave; the keyboard, the game merch, and even the restaurant napkins that he wrote little notes on. It was the only thing she kept, because even after all this time, it still gave her comfort, like she’s somehow still hearing reassurance. However, that was the end of it, she only kept it because of the sentiment and the memory that once upon a time, she loved deeply and that she was loved dearly.

With a sigh, they exchanged small smiles – a quiet understanding that they tried, but they’ve come to the end of their chapters in each other’s lives long ago. He mouthed a “thank you” to her, which she responded to with a nod of her head before looking away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

hi! i'm sorry this was a little hurtful, but this one is a little personal to me hhh i hope you guys liked it. i needed to let this one out before going back to studying :D don't be shy to come to talk to me about how this made you feel! &lt;3

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu angst #seventeen angst #svt imagines #svt angst #svt fanfic #seventeen fic #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen #seventeen scenarios

[jeonstellate]

forever by my side

mingyu still honors the love signified by his ring, even after all this time.

๑彡 kim mingyu x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 divorced!au/ex-husband!au, post-break up!au — fluff(?), angst(?)

๑彡 paragraph format — 0.8K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from zack tabudlo’s by my side (ft. tiara andini).

๑彡 thank you sm for the overwhelming love for my future in your eyes! please accept this as a thank you gift :]

๑彡 this is connected to that fic, a prequel of sorts, but can also be read as a standalone. (i highly recommend reading that, too, though.)

Kim Mingyu is a man of confidence.

He exudes confidence, regardless of what he does. It’s a natural part of his aura — something that he can never control at will.

It comes in handy for his line of work, which often requires him to socialize and impress others. Occasionally, though, it also needs him to give presentations in front of large crowds.

As his audience continues to stare at him, with a mix of glossed eyes and awestruck expressions, Mingyu begins to appreciate his inborn confidence a little bit more.

He’s an extrovert. He does well with crowds. He’s comfortable striking up conversations with complete strangers. He’s talkative and spontaneous and outgoing, amongst other things.

And with his confidence, Mingyu can command a room with ease.

Yet, still, it doesn’t necessarily mean he enjoys public speaking — especially if the crowd he’s addressing is full of college students who are currently everywhere, just not in the classroom.

He can hardly blame them. He has been in their shoes before. He knows what it feels like to listen to professors and guest lecturers drag on when he rather spend his time elsewhere.

"Well then, if you guys thought of more questions later," he began his wrap-up speech, "feel free to email me. Thank you—"

A flurry of moment on his right caught his attention, effectively halting his speech. However, the cause of it is gone by the second he turns.

The only evidence he has that he didn’t hallucinate the entire thing is the murmuring that suddenly engulfs the room. And the small folded piece of paper on his right that seems to appear out of the blue.

Mingyu reaches for the paper and looks around the room. He immediately notices the students’ renewed interest in him. Or perhaps — most likely — they are just interested in how he responses to the note.

He looks down as he opens the paper.

Mister, do you have a significant other?

He chuckles soundlessly. Not because of how off-topic it is from the presentation he just gave, but because it is apparently enough to bring you forth in his mind.

After all, you are his other half. Someone he met and fell in love with within the walls of your college campus. Someone he put great effort to deserve the heart of.

The only one he could see sharing a future with. The only one he went down on one knee for and waited for at the end of the aisle.

The only one he loves with his soul. The only one he respects and cherishes to an unfathomable extent.

Mingyu gives a shy smile to the sea of students before raising his hand, palm facing inward. He lets the gold band around his ring finger shine under the spotlights aimed at him.

Their collective disappointment is loud.

Mingyu finds their reaction amusing. He has watched countless people react to his marital status over the years. Those who appear dismayed, he notes, often try their best to hide it, albeit unsuccessfully. As a matter of fact, this is the first time anyone has ever showed disdain so openly — a whole group, too, no less.

He can’t stop the soundless chuckle that escaped. He has always been proud of his marriage. He boasts about it — and you — every chance that he gets. It’s something that always brings a smile to his face. Something that he never gets tired of.

Even after the divorce.

The end of your marriage had been a mutual decision. You both agreed that it was the best action to take, before anything escalated to something unbecoming. And, at the time, it was the best decision to take.

The end of your marriage didn’t signify the end of his love for you, though. That’s why, even years after the court made your divorce official, his wedding ring stayed on his finger.

Mingyu may have failed to keep you by his side, but he absolutely has no plans to rid himself of the only physical reminder of your marriage.

Mingyu may have lost his rights to claim you as his spouse; but at least in front of strangers, he can still pretend that the gold around his finger is more than a remembrance.

"How are you going to find a replacement for your wedding ring if you keep letting people think you’re still married?" Minghao wonders when he meets up with him after his presentation.

Ironically enough, his longtime friend personifies the reality that his façade only works with strangers. Those who don’t know what happened. Nor can read him like an open book. Nor notice the hint of sadness in his eyes.

Mingyu simply shrugs at that, "Bold of you to assume I want a replacement in the first place."

(After all, his wedding ring isn’t just a conversational piece. It’s also his lifeline . . . something he can’t bear to lose, especially when he already lost you.)

#kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #kim mingyu oneshots #mingyu oneshots #seventeen oneshots #ex-husband!au #post-break up!au #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen

[etherealyoungk]

"we get it. you're in love. go make out over there or something..." this with mingyu.....or soonyoung!!!!!!

valentine's day event | thank you for the request. i did this with mingyu!

because mingyu had a schedule on valentines day, you really didn't get to spend time with him. you had made it to the award show venue late and even though you had backstage access, there was no point going now. all the boys would be leaving now. so you decide to surprise mingyu and wait in the car, the one that would take him and a few members home. seungkwan is the first to enter. he's surprised, followed by dino and vernon, dokyeom, and finally mingyu.

mingyu literally yells when he sees you, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug as he tells you how much he missed you and how much he wanted to spend the day with you. the other members talk and engage n conversation with you but mingyu's grip on your waist is tight and his free hand is intertwined with yours.

"babe", mingyu says, making you turn your head to look at him. "hm?" "my lips are getting lonely hm. you didn't even give me a valentines day kiss", he pouts, making you roll your eyes. "gyu...we can do that later", you say softly but he's not having it. "ok fine", you finally say. what harm was one small kiss going to do?

but as soon as you kissed mingyu, he took control, not letting you pull away. his hand comes up to cup your cheek and that's it. you melt in his embrace and give in, his kisses always made you dizzy. the car has gone completely silent.

"ya'll couldn't wait till we got home to make out?", you hear seungkwan's voice fill the silence. meanwhile, dokyeom covers dino's eyes and vernon just widens his eyes as he looks out the window. you pull away but mingyu kisses you again

"oh my god, i think i'm going to puke", you hear seungkwan say. "let y/n go oh my god, we get it you're in love", dokyeom adds.

mingyu finally pulls away, a stupid smile on his face and you feel your cheeks heat up. "don't worry baby we'll continue when we get home hm", he whispers as he pecks your cheek.

"someone would think you guys haven't seen each other in five years", seungkwan tells giving mingyu a look. "you're just jealous because you're single and alone on valentines day", mingyu says, earning a scoff from seungkwan. seungkwan would just give him the side eye the entire ride home.

#this was funny in my head okay #skye's valentines day event! #skye's writing #mingyu imagines #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu drabbles #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu fluff #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu #kim mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen soft hours #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #svt soft hours #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt drabbles #svt fluff

[thepixelelf]

female ceo reader x tailor mingyu 1.1k words.

note: female reader (because the plot is based on how some men think women can't be taken seriously in higher up positions). this premise/idea is from The Duchess Deal by Tessa Dare. like pretty much all my fics, this is not a full story and more just a fun idea

[coincidence? I think yes] Letting out a guttural, defeated groan, you slump your head down on your keyboard. The keys press down, adding to the already incomprehensible email you were drafting to send to your personal assistant.

Seungkwan,

I need a husband.b,mfnhh7gy6untjjn 7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7nn7n7n

The first four words were stupid enough. Why should you need a husband? Just because your grandpa is a misogynistic prick?

7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7nn7n7n7n7n

And why should you need to get married of all things just so that he doesn't hand over "his" company -- that you practically resurrected from bankruptcy, by the way -- to your insipid cousin?

7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n77n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7

It's not like your cousin Yeongmin is married. He just happens to be the family's oldest male in your generation.

n7n7n7n7n7nn7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7n7

"Um--"

Seungkwan's voice makes you pop up, and you straighten your back to attempt to look put together even though it's arguable that Seungkwan is the only person who's ever seen you at your most bedraggled. He's probably the only person you'll ever let see you as anything beneath totally put together badass CEO who built themself up from almost nothing.

You smooth out your sleeves. "Yes?"

"There's a man at my desk," Seungkwan says, slightly confused. You're not sure why.

"Okay...?"

"Asking for you."

"Yes, Seungkwan." You nod, brows furrowing. "That's why people normally go to your desk."

His fingers toy with the end of his other arm's sleeve. "Yeah, but..."

"But?"

"He's wearing a wedding dress."

"Oh." You glance down at your computer screen, and the last words you typed-- well, on purpose.

I need a husband.

Weird.

"Do you, uh..." Seungkwan jerks his thumb towards the door he's only stepped halfway through. "...want me to send him away?"

"No, no." If a guy is coming to you in a wedding dress, he must want something. Badly. You've never heard of such a stunt, but you might as well hear him out. "Let him in."

Husband...man in a wedding dress... There's not that big of a difference, right?

Maybe you can offer him what he wants so badly. In exchange for something you want.

Seungkwan nods, still hesitant. "Alright, but you might want to put on some sunglasses."

You don't have time to ask him what the heck he means by that before he disappears out the door, and only seconds later, a blazing white fire barges in.

With all the floor-to-ceiling windows in your corner office, the afternoon sunlight is often a blessing. Right now, however, it bounces off approximately one million sequins, pearls, and crystals, and reflects so harshly into your poor eyeballs that you have to simultaneously raise your hand to cover your eyes and turn away.

"Oh my god." You may have just received snow blindness comparable to years of albedo exposure. "What the--"

"Miss CEO. Ma'am," Mr Say Yes to the Dress starts from behind the curtain of your fingers, voice loud, if a bit unsteady. "My name is Kim Mingyu, and I'm here to collect."

Lowering your hand just slightly, you allow yourself to see him from the shoulders up, which is lucky, since the dress seems to have a sleeveless sweetheart neckline.

Not bad. Broad, sculpted shoulders, a symmetrical face topped with fluffy black hair, something meek in his eyes -- despite having the gall to walk right into your office wearing the world's brightest hodgepodge of fabric and demand payment for... something.

"Collect?" you echo.

"Yes." He nods, and you see him shift to gesture towards the crinoline-filled skirt of the gown. "For the dress."

Instinctively, you look where he gestures, and you wince at the sparkles that stab your retinas. It's not that it's ugly. In fact, the handiwork must be incredible, if you know anything about anything. It's just so...much. Lace and pearls and sequins and rhinestones and floral embroidery.

"You must be mistaken. I never ordered--" You wave at the embodiment of Narnia's never ending winter. "--that."

"No, but Choi Yeori did."

Ah, now things are starting to make sense. You're closer to your cousin Yeori than you are her older brother Yeongmin, if only because you used to play murder mystery make-believe with her when you were nine and she was six. It's been a long time since those days, though. The only updates you get about Yeori's life now come from her public social media, and gossip columns. But there's one thing you know from both the past playtimes and the current Instagram stories.

Choi Yeori is a romantic. Always has been, always will be, you suspect.

From acting the femme fatale (as deadly as a six-year-old can be, which is surprisingly very) to the three engagement announcements she's since deleted from all her accounts, she likes to believe in stuff like love.

All the power to her, you say. Living in her beautiful world must be nice.

Well, except for when it's not so beautiful.

"Let me guess." You tilt your head at the boy-in-a-wonder. "The wedding's off."

Now that your hand is down, and your full attention is on him, Mingyu seems to shift uncomfortably under your gaze. His hands reach to pull the top of the dress higher over his pecs, since it's tailored to Yeori's exact size, not his.

He nods. "I spent countless hours on this dress--"

"I can see that." Otherwise he probably wouldn't be here.

"Everything is sewn by me, like she requested--"

"Of course." No machine could make something so ice queen from Sharkboy and Lavagirl-esque.

"And her payment was retroactively rescinded," he finished. "I can't get a hold of her, or any of her contacts, and I couldn't--"

"Find a single other person who would buy this amalgamation of sparkles, luxury, and fanfare?"

Frowning, Mingyu crosses his arms. "I couldn't think of who else to go to. I'm a one-man company. The cost of material on its own has almost put me in debt."

"Right, sorry." You roll your chair further under your desk and lean your elbows on the dark, lacquered surface. Your eyes glance once again over the dress. "But this could've been an email, you know."

He shrugs. "I got your attention, didn't I?"

You can't help but laugh. Yes, he's got you there.

Reaching into one of your drawers, you pull out your chequebook. "Right, well." You grab a pen and put it to paper. "What does my dear cousin owe you, Kim Mingyu?"

He rattles off the number, and you try not to sigh at it. Oh, Yeori... This time might really be too much.

You sign on the dotted line, and stand from your chair to round your desk. Walking up to him, you tear the single cheque from the book and hold it out.

"Here."

He's even more handsome up close, you note.

Just before his fingers can grip the expensive piece of paper, you jerk your hand back with a sharp bending of your elbow.

"Or," you say. "I could offer you even more than this."

Cautiously, Mingyu raises a brow. "Even more...?"

"You could take this money now--"

A moment happens where you curse in your head. You're acting cool and collected, but the idea bubbling in your mind is one of the most outlandish you've ever come up with. Are you really going to do this?

Mingyu eyes the cheque hungrily. That seals it. He needs money, and that's really the best thing you have to offer anyone, so why not someone with a pretty face?

You smile. "--or you could marry me."

#seventeen scenarios #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

[staranghae]

(masterlist) another bollywood love story

summary. kim mingyu had had his entire life planned out for him from the second he was born. schooling in india, college in south korea. take over his father's company. get married to whoever his parents pick out for him. you coming into his life wasn't part of the plan. neither was getting married to you. and yet, here he was.

pairing. desi! reader x desi! k.mg wc. will be updated upon completion / chapter specific warnings. chapter specific genre. desi! setting, enemies to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, angst(?), crack, cheesy bollywood tropes (the best part) a/n. *drum roll* I PRESENT TO YOU THE WELL AWAITED DESI MINGYU FIC INSPIRED BY @thepoopdokyeomtouched (aznik ilysm) AND BROUGHT TO LIFE BY YOURS TRULY! start date: 20-02-2024 (currently on indefinite hiatus) end date: taglist: @thepoopdokyeomtouched @mellowamour @hellohannie @rewa118 @anarchyishere @yaaaridk @readerlozies @anardaneh @vanillacheol @chaaaand @jww04 @tuliptoot @aysxldea @reysworldd @shualover-r @chweverni @rakshithanotrao @vettigirl @kimvante2013 @chickpea-jimin @9yuldaengi @soobinsmiddletoe @yaaaridk @taliareads @vminkook-ownsme @ranoutofnamestonameit @sheraayasher @eightlightstar @aaniag @amxlia-stars @nonononranghaee @huening-kawaii @kkyeomies @shamelessglitterbouquetworld

networks: @k-films @k-labels @kbookshelf @kflixnet @caratsland

chapters ~\(≧▽≦)/~

zero. -> character profiles (teaser)

one. -> hate at first sight

two. -> coming soon...

three. -> coming soon...

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[dkfile]

gold rush — k. mingyu (teaser)

word count | 892 (full fic est. 8k–10k) genre | angst with a happy ending, exes to lovers, summer vacation au

you’re over him. he’s ancient history, a memory you’ve blocked out, someone who you’ll faintly remember years from now when you flip through your old yearbooks (except you’ve known him since you were in diapers and you’ve loved him for 8 years — how are you supposed to erase all memory of someone like that?).

author’s note | AAAHHH okay so hopefully the full fic will be out by like next weekend... but i’m halfway done so let’s hope i can steamroll through it and have a readable finished product by then. (if not... sorry 😓). but until then, you can enjoy this little teaser !!

The scent of tangerines and aftershave fill your nose as you’re ambushed by a boy bursting with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he resides in your arms, squeezing you tight as he spews angry statements that all come from a place of love.

Seungkwan is grinning by the time you pull away, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you further into the backyard to catch up with other people. He doesn’t dare leave your side — he’s convinced you’ll slip away and disappear if he does — and you’re thankful; you don’t have the energy to steamroll through conversation today.

Though it’s humid, the warmth you’re engulfed in is a product of the Boo household. It is homely and welcoming and an embodiment of everything you’ve ever missed about home all in one lot. You should be happy to be here, surrounded by people you haven’t seen in years as a consequence of your avoidance, pulled into an endless pool of memories and nostalgia.

But you cannot shake it, the uneasiness.

You feel it as soon as the gate swings open and he enters, carrying two large Tupperware containers, one filled with brownies and the other with lemon squares. You feel it when he flashes his signature smile, canines as pearly white and blinding as you remember, and still fill you with a sickening sense of joy.

(Pathetic, you whisper to yourself. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic).

“I’m gonna go get a brownie,” Seungkwan announces, loud enough to snap you out of it. “Do you want one?”

“No,” you decline, forcing yourself to smile even when you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. “Thank you, though.”

Seungkwan nods and makes his way to the refreshments table, but not before wagging a finger and huffing, “Don’t leave without saying goodbye!”

You frantically search the backyard, looking for any sign of Minghao or Seokmin, or maybe a hero of some sorts to pull you away so you don’t disintegrate in the presence of Mingyu.

In your periphery, you see him excuse himself from conversations, eyes flickering towards you with a determination you are not unfamiliar with. It is remorseful and desperate, and it reminds you of an instance in the skatepark a few years ago, you in his sweater and drowning in heartbreak and sorrow.

Someone swings their arm over your shoulder.

“Hey,” Minghao murmurs, steering you further into the backyard, away. You can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you grit your teeth.

“You’re gonna have to talk to him at some point,” he says, dropping his arm once he’s decided you’re far enough. “I feel like it’d do the both of you some good.”

“I have nothing to say to him,” you protest. “And I’m sure he has nothing to say to me.”

“I really don’t think that’s the truth.”

“It is.”

“You were in love with him,” he says. It slips out of his lips so easily, as if he were talking about the weather or the shapes of the clouds. You wish you could mutter an admission like that — accept something like that — the way he had. “And he was in love with you, and it ended badly. That is more than enough of a reason to talk.”

It ended badly. You always associated a statement like that with relationships that ended in screaming matches or slamming doors. Ones where a simple argument escalated into one that finalized a conclusion, ones where there was nothing in the room but anger and exhaustion that overpowered the love.

You’ve never associated it with how your relationship with Mingyu ended. The sun was rising, and birds were chirping, and you were standing in the same spot you asked him out, the same spot he asked you to prom, the same spot he murmured three simple words into your ear before you fell asleep on his shoulder on the park bench.

It didn’t end because of a fight. Sometimes, you wish it had — maybe then you’d feel differently about everything, about him.

It just came to a halt, and he had been the one to step on the brakes.

“Talk to him,” Minghao urges again, sympathetic but firm. “You don’t have to do it now, but just do it before you leave. Don’t you think you deserve some closure?”

Your eyes find him talking to some of your classmates from your graduating class. They hang onto every word he says, face alit with curiosity and admiration, because some things never change, and he has been put on a pedestal since birth. In the hallways of the high school, his name is on the trophies, he is beaming in most of the pages in the yearbook, he is this town’s pride and joy.

But you know him.

You see him smile and you are not blind to the discomfort and falseness behind it. He doesn’t want to be there, you think, and your thoughts are proven correct when he glances up to look at you, and his mask slips by a fraction. For a moment, you see sincerity, a glimpse of the Mingyu you once knew.

Someone taps him on the shoulder and, as you predicted, he puts the mask back on.

You hate that you still know him like the back of your hand.

© dkfile, 2023

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