Seventten When U Keep Sucking After They Cum?

Seventten when u keep sucking after they cum?

seungcheol: gets all whiny and pushes your head off of him with, “ah fu-fuck ‘m too sensitive, baby. give me a second. need a break.”

jeonghan: his whole body tenses up as he fights the feeling of overstimulation, but he doesn’t pull away. “you just can’t get enough of my cock, huh?”

joshua: he’s feeling all kinds of overwhelmed and he’s honestly torn between pushing your head off or down further. “hold on, babe— shit! oh fuck, don’t stop…”

jun: he loves the feeling of overstimulation tbh and he loves how much you love to have your mouth on him. “fuck, are you trying to get me hard again? already?”

soonyoung: he might be able to stay hard after cumming the first time. seeing you swallow for him and then go back for more would have him on the edge again in no time. “you want more of my cum in that pretty little mouth of yours? fine, take it. take it all.”

wonwoo: he’d hiss through his teeth and yank you off of his lap by the hair, muttering, “you’re such a fucking brat. trying to overstimulate me when that’s my job… yeah, we’ll see how funny you think it is when it’s you in a couple of minutes, angel.”

jihoon: he’d try to endure it but it’d get to be too much for him. “w-wait sorry… i don’t want to stop but my dick feels like it’s going to fall off. i need like a gatorade or something with electrolytes before we go again.”

seokmin: whines and whines and whines but doesn’t safeword and ultimately ends up cumming down your throat again. “god, baby… fuck! fuuuck i can’t- i can’t, i’m gonna cum again…”

mingyu: he’d be sooo sensitive and wouldn’t be able to stop writhing underneath your touch, moaning nonsense the whole time. “your mouth is so good… almost as good as your pussy. never wanna leave it. fuck! feels p-perfect!”

minghao: he’d flip it around on you instead. “hey, it’s my turn to make you feel good. lay down on the bed for me, legs spread. god, you’re soaked, baby. is all this just from sucking me off?”

seungkwan: he’d want to let you have your fun, but ultimately feel too sensitive and have to tap out. “i can’t! i can’t! i’m sorry but it’s too much. let me… make it up to you though?”

vernon: he begs. he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for it’s just a mantra of “please please please please” and his hips bucking up into your mouth

chan: you’d be able to get another orgasm out of him, but he’d be gripping you for dear life, groaning about how “you’re a fucking succubus for christ’s sake! t-trying to make me cum again so soon? what’s gotten into you?”

Distraction

pairing: boyfriend!vernon x fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut (minors, stay in school instead of reading this)

words: 1.6k

warnings: fluff, fem-bodied!reader, reference to vernon's weakling peanut allergy (I'm kidding, I'm kidding), heavy mentions of food, fingering, f. orgasm, vernon is a shithead hehe I love him

requested: yessir!

a/n: my dear anon, I hope this satisfies the domestic vernon smut/fluff combo meal you've been craving! this was fun to write, I simply adore vernon (and the rest of seventeen) so much. this is much heavier on the fluff side than I usually write, but it was fun!! happy reading, my lovely vernon stans 🖤

summary: typically, when a person’s house smells like fire, you call the fire department. when your house smells like fire, you know it’s because Vernon is cooking.

A pan clattered.

You looked up from the book in front of you and craned your neck to look through your open bedroom door. You couldn’t see the kitchen from your place at your desk, but you watched Vernon’s distorted shadow drift across the wall as he moved.

“Babe?” You called, a strained smile on your lips. “Everything going okay in there?”

There was a beat of silence before Vernon yelled back, “Yes, uh… everything’s fine. You definitely do not have to come in here.”

Okay, so you definitely did need to go in there.

You stood slowly, taking a moment to stretch your tight muscles. Sitting for hours on end wasn’t good for you, but it was the nature of your job. Poring over books older than your grandparents for the sake of a museum wasn’t typically something that could be done while running.

You rounded the corner into the kitchen like you were sneaking up on a wild cat. Don’t move too fast, don’t make a sound, don’t startle him.

Vernon was standing in front of the stove, wielding a package of raw bacon in one hand and a spatula in the other like they were swords. You covered your mouth to stifle your laugh.

You watched him for a moment, affection for the boy swelling in your chest. Half his hair stuck up straight on his head, a strange cowlick curling at the nape of his neck. The white t-shirt he wore beautifully showcased the muscles in his back—which you did not admire, thank you very much—but his plaid pajama pants were baggy, tied low around his hips.

You finally moved from your place in the hall when an ominous plume of smoke rose from the stove in front of him.

Vernon didn’t notice your presence as you peered around his shoulder, attempting to assess the damage. You grimaced.

He’d chosen to make pancakes, usually a wonderful choice—when they weren’t black on one side and completely raw on the other. You quickly identified the source of the smoke as the pancake currently cooking.

“I think that one’s done.” You advised quietly.

Vernon jumped so hard he nearly knocked his head against the range hood.

So much for not startling him.

He whipped around, still holding his breakfast-themed swords as he stared guiltily down at you. “Baby, you scared the shit out of me. How long have you been there?”

You tracked his movements as he set down the items in his hands so he could pull you against him. Around the scent of burnt food, he smelled incredible. Traces of his cologne from yesterday still clung to his skin and there was a faint undertone of you from the night before. You wrapped your arms around his waist and inhaled greedily, unable to get enough.

You responded at last, “Why, are you doing something wrong?”

Vernon pulled back and softly flicked your forehead. “Of course not. I’m making you breakfast.”

“So that’s what all the racket was about.”

He smiled, a tinge of embarrassed color dusting his cheeks. “I really thought I’d be able to do it this time.”

You laughed and disentangled yourself from his arms. This wasn’t the first time Vernon had attempted to cook for you and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. Usually, his efforts ended with you taking over, your boyfriend sitting at the table to watch you in defeat.

“Move aside, Chef Choi,” you pretended to stretch like you were about to run a race and cracked your knuckles for emphasis. “I’ve got it from here.”

Vernon groaned dramatically. “But I’m supposed to be cooking for you.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure you’ll get it next time.”

You didn’t mind that you usually had to finish the meals he started. In truth, you genuinely enjoyed cooking. It helped, of course, that Vernon always theatrically moaned when he took the first bite like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Your boyfriend leaned against the counter while you scraped the remainder of his breakfast attempt into the trash. It pained you to waste food, but it was truly unsalvageable—biting into one of those pancakes would surely ruin your appetite forever.

Not that you were going to tell him that.

You spooned globs of batter onto the pan and retrieved a skillet for the bacon, aware that Vernon was watching you all the while.

“You’re not putting peanuts in those, right?” He asked nervously.

You shot an incredulous glance over your shoulder. “Who puts peanuts in pancakes?” Vernon shrugged and you teasingly rolled your eyes. “No, Vernon, I’m very aware of your peanut allergy.”

“You can’t blame me for asking. You did try to kill me that one time.”

You scoffed. No way would you even bother responding to that one. Leave it to Vernon to bring up the one time you’d accidentally given him a granola bar with peanuts and you’d had to whip out the EpiPen in the middle of a grocery store.

Obviously, he was fine now.

It wasn’t until you flipped the pancakes onto their other sides, each one a perfect golden-brown circle, that Vernon decided he’d had enough.

“How did you—I don’t under—ugh.”

You smiled at his incoherent complaints. His arms wrapped around you from behind and you giggled when he attempted to tickle your ribs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You laughed and pushed his hand away. It immediately returned to your side, this time sliding beneath your shirt so his fingers drifted over bare skin. You shivered at the temperature of his hand but continued to flip the pancakes in front of you.

Vernon’s mouth drifted over your ear and he exhaled, his warm breath sending chills skittering across your skin.

“Seriously, hot shot, what are you doing?” You asked again, your stomach tightening when the tips of his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your pants.

“Distracting you.”

No shit. You were more focused now on the growing ache between your legs than the task at hand.

You swallowed and asked breathlessly, “And why are you distracting me?”

“Because I’m tired of you being good at everything.” Vernon pressed a soft kiss to your jaw as his hand drifted lower. You unconsciously pressed back into him and his arm wrapped around your middle. “I’m trying to even the playing field.”

You moved the finished pancakes from the stove to a plate and replaced them with new batter, your brow furrowed with concentration. If Vernon wanted to play dirty, fine, but you were not going to let him win.

You gasped softly when Vernon’s fingers at last entered your panties. He teased your entrance with his middle finger, his thumb dragging gentle circles over your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, his voice rough. “Cooking turns you on?”

“You’re the worst,” you half-moaned. Vernon laughed as his thumb exerted more pressure. Your knees began to shake, and you couldn’t be bothered to care that your boyfriend was now supporting most of your weight as you leaned against him.

At last, a pancake slid off the spatula before you could set it safely on the plate. It landed with a dissatisfying thwack on the counter. You groaned, half in frustration and half in pleasure, as Vernon chuckled victoriously.

“Gotcha.” He bit down softly on your earlobe and moaned when two of his fingers slid easily into your slick entrance. You didn’t bother trying to be subtle anymore as you rocked your hips on his hand, silently urging him to pick up the pace.

Vernon completely ignored your wishes as his fingers continued to thrust languidly into you. You climbed higher with painful slowness, your walls fluttering around him while you whimpered.

He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer. His hard length was pressed snugly against your backside, fully at attention and practically begging you to help. He softly ground his hips against your ass, seeking some degree of friction.

“Your pancakes are burning." He unhelpfully pointed out.

You truly couldn’t have cared less. You braced your hands on the corners of the stove for some level of support, your orgasm urgently looming.

When your high at last swept through you, you saw it coming from a mile away. Pleasure crested over you in a wave, warm as your boyfriend’s chest pressed against your back. You released a shuddering moan of relief as you clenched hard around Vernon’s fingers.

He was the only person in the world who could make you cum like that. You turned boneless halfway through your orgasm, leaning fully against him as you dove head-first into the pleasure his hand gave.

He exhaled heavily in your ear, seemingly as satisfied as you were, and kissed the side of your throat.

“See? Me distracting you isn’t so bad, huh?”

You turned in the circle of Vernon’s arms so you could glare up at him. He gazed down at you with a smug expression, though his eyes were heavy-lidded with lust and his erection still pressed insistently into you.

Without warning, you grasped his clothed length in your hand. Vernon jumped, his eyes wide with alarm, as he released a startled, choked moan.

“That wasn’t nice.” You chided softly. He groaned again when you gently squeezed him through his pants.

You reached behind you without looking and turned off the burner with a sharp snap. The long-burnt pancakes on the stove sizzled dejectedly, but you paid them no mind.

You pressed a gentle kiss to Vernon’s lips, which he eagerly attempted to deepen. Smiling, you pulled away.

“You think you won?” You asked quietly.

“Well you came, so respectfully I know I—”

Vernon’s words cut off in a sharp inhale when you squeezed his dick again. He swallowed thickly at the promise in your eyes.

“Oh yeah? Two can play at that game, baby, and it’s my turn.”

thanks for reading, party people! please give it a like/reblog if you enjoyed it! - j

masterlist here :)

© minghaoyoudoin 2022 - all rights reserved. reposts/translations not allowed. I do not assume to know the personal lives of the idol(s) depicted in this fic, this is for entertainment purposes only!

a/n: this was supposed to be a full hotgirlnetwork collab, but life got in the way lmao- anyway for @myunghoehoehoe my beloved happy valentine's day!! (with five minutes to spare lol)

Summary: minghao made a pact with some of the other members to tell his crush how he feels about them on valentine's day... but he isn't sure if you feel the same way

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterlist // ko-fi

additional warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, protected sex, multiple orgasms

Minghao wiped his hands on his jeans, trying to wick away the sweat gathered on his palms. It was a nervous habit of his, but it didn’t help much. His hands were always clammy. Thinking about what he was about to do only exacerbated the issue.

“What are you doing out here?” a familiar voice called to him. It was Joshua, walking up towards him from the driveway.

“Waiting for the rest of you,” Minghao answered.

It wasn’t a lie, he was waiting for his friends. He had to make sure they were actually going to show up. He wasn’t about to be the only one embarrassing himself while the rest of them bailed.

“I think they’re a few minutes behind me,” Joshua explained. “But come on, let’s go inside. We can get a head start.”

“You’re not nervous?”

Joshua appeared entirely calm, cool, and collected as usual. Minghao thought the circumstances would’ve broken a sweat at the very least, considering the circumstances, but he looked completely unphased.

“Oh, dude, I’m shitting my pants,” Joshua assured him. “I just want to get it over with. And I also don’t want her seeing me standing out here on the front porch like a loser by myself.”

Fuck. Minghao hadn’t even considered the fact that people could see through the fucking windows. He’d been standing outside for at least fifteen minutes, trying to hype himself up. He hoped you hadn’t seen him waiting around, or worse, rehearsing what he was going to say to you.

“I’m sure no one saw you, though,” Joshua added suddenly. “You probably looked totally natural out here.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s go, lover boy. You look like you could use some liquid courage.”

Minghao followed Joshua to the front door and waited behind as he knocked. He wasn’t one for house parties, but he also wasn’t one for public humiliation, but here he was.

Someone he didn’t recognize answered the door, but they didn’t bother to acknowledge him as Joshua clapped them on the back like he’d known the guy his entire life. Joshua continued to talk to the stranger and motioned for Minghao to follow him inside.

As soon as he crossed the threshold he felt as though the temperature had risen at least twenty degrees. It would have been a welcome change from the chill outside, if the air wasn’t sticky with sweat and body heat. The place was packed from wall to wall, sweaty people pressed up against each other as they moved to the beat of the music. It was so loud that Minghao could barely hear himself think. He could feel the bass pumping through the floor like a steady heartbeat, an antithesis to his own anxious one.

“Want something to drink?” Joshua yelled above the noise. The person who had let them in had disappeared into the crowd, leaving Joshua and Minghao alone.

“I don’t know if I should,” he yelled back. “I don’t want to get drunk and then say something stupid when I talk to her!”

“You’re gonna say something stupid anyway! Might as well be confident about it.”

Minghao rolled his eyes, but agreed and trailed behind Joshua as he looked for the kitchen. It wasn’t hard to find, all he had to do was follow the trail of empty plastic cups littered among the hallway and there it was. The kitchen was a little less busy, surprisingly. Only a few people lingered around the island, either chatting idly or mixing drinks for themselves.

Joshua grabbed a cup for himself and pointed Minghao towards an open cooler on the ground. It was filled with ice and an assortment of beers. Sometimes it annoyed Minghao how well Shua knew him, but he grabbed a bottle of Dos Equis anyway and popped the cap on the edge of the counter.

“There you guys are!” Chan exclaimed suddenly as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was dressed for the occasion, wearing a pale pink sweater and white pants. His dark hair was offset with a dangly red heart earring in one of his ears. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“What do you mean you’ve been looking all over for us? You were late,” Minghao points out.

“Yeah, I only got here a few minutes after you and I’ve been texting you trying to find you!”

Minghao felt his back pocket for his phone and pulled it out to see a bunch of messages and two missed calls from Chan.

“Oh, my bad.”

“I saw y/n dancing by herself so I figured you weren’t here yet, but then I heard from Kevin that he already let you in!”

Kevin. That was who had answered the door earlier. But Minghao totally glossed over that detail as soon as he heard Chan say your name. So you were here. Minghao had been holding out hope that you had maybe decided not to come. Not because he didn’t want to see you, but because that way he wouldn’t have to confess his feelings to you.

That was the whole reason he was at the Singles Valentine’s Party in the first place. A handful of his friends had all made a pact together to tell their crushes they liked them at the party. They knew they’d never do it on their own which is why they decided to do it together. It had been Jeonghan’s idea. He was tired of watching his friends pine over girls from afar, tired of listening to them ramble about how they’d never be able to pull them, tired of the longing glances and puppy-dog eyes. He was tired of all of it. And he genuinely wanted his friends to be happy. They were handsome enough guys, he didn’t see why they thought they didn’t have a chance with the women they were crushing on. Which is why Jeonghan gathered them all in the living room one day after practice and proposed they all tell the girls how they feel. He said Valentine’s day would be perfect. Not because it was the most romantic or anything, it was more of a commercial holiday than anything, but because it would even the playing field. He knew all the guys’ crushes would be at the single’s party, and he figured they stood less of a chance of being rejected on a holiday. It would kill... several birds with one stone and if everything went according to plan, Jeonghan’s problem would be solved. His friends would be happy, and he’d be happy.

“Y/n’s here?” Minghao asked abruptly, forgetting all about the rest of the conversation.

Chan rolled his eyes. “She’s in the lounge.”

Joshua smirked, nudging Minghao’s shoulder with his elbow. “Show time.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” Minghao muttered under his breath.

“C’mon, I never get to see you this nervous. Let me have a little fun.”

“Whatever.”

“Are you just going to stand around, or are you going to talk to her?” Chan asked pointedly. Minghao gave him a look. “I’m just saying, the clock is ticking.”

“You’re also standing around,” Minghao pointed out.

“She’s not here yet. Y/n is. What’s your excuse?”

“Fine,” Minghao grumbled and chugged the rest of his beer. He grabbed another from the cooler, popped the bottle cap on the counter again, and walked out of the kitchen with his friends shouting after him.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!”

Minghao flipped them off as he disappeared into the hallway. Immediately, he regretted not asking Chan where the lounge was. But he didn’t want to turn back now and have to explain himself. He was already turned around, but he didn’t want to give Joshua another opportunity to clown him so he decided he’d just find it himself. The house was only so big, he’d stumble across it eventually.

The first two rooms he tried were an office and a bathroom, both of which were full of people. From what he could tell, the individuals in the bathroom were taking turns with a joint and the people in the office were either asleep on the floor or dead. He didn’t stick around to find out.

Finally, after another few minutes of aimless wandering, Minghao came across what seemed to be the lounge. Long leather sofas took up the majority of the space and the walls were lined with big glass aquariums that were full of different species of tropical fish. Not for the first time Minghao found himself wondering just who the fuck lived here?

Television screens illuminated the otherwise dark room as drunk party goers challenged each other to Mario Kart or Just Dance.

Minghao caught you out of the corner of his eye, sitting on one of the couches talking to Wonwoo. He would have missed you had it not been for the bright colors of the screen reflecting off your face every other second.

He swallowed nervously, and wiped his free hand on his jeans again. It was now or never.

He approached you cautiously, like he was afraid he might scare you away if he made any sudden movements. Wonwoo was the first to notice him, and waved enthusiastically, drawing your attention to him as well.

“Hey, I was wondering when you’d show up,” Wonwoo said, yelling over the noise. “Thought you might have gotten cold feet.”

“Cold feet for what?” you asked, feeling somewhat out of the loop.

Minghao’s eyes grew wide as he looked between you and Wonwoo, unsure of what to say. He wanted to glare at Wonwoo, who knew about the pact- all of the members did- but he couldn’t because you were sitting right there.

“You’ll find out later, probably,” Wonwoo supplied.

You just shrugged and took another sip of your drink, apparently satisfied with that answer.

“I’m going to find Mingyu,” Wonwoo announced, putting his hand on your shoulder familiarly. “He promised to play Flip Cup with me.”

It was a simple action, but it annoyed Minghao to watch. He clenched his jaw and continued to nurse his beer as you and his older member exchanged niceties. Wonwoo patted Minghao on the back as he got up to trade spots with him, and gave him a thumbs-up as he disappeared down the hallway. Not subtle at all.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you tonight,” you confessed, scooting over on the couch to make room for Minghao.

“What, why?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged. “Just doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“It’s not,” he agreed.

“Then why are you wasting your Valentine’s Day here?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m wasting it,” Minghao reasoned. “I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

You grinned. “Smooth.”

He shrugged. “I can be when I want to be.”

“Like when you’re dancing?”

Minghao felt his cheeks get warm at your comment, and hoped they weren’t turning red. “I guess you could say that.”

“Come on, don’t be so humble about it. I’ve seen you on stage. You’re incredible,” you insisted, putting your hand on his knee for emphasis.

Minghao looked down at your hand on his leg and stiffened nervously. He could feel the warmth of your palm through his pants. If he didn’t know better he’d think he was being burned from how intense the feeling was. It was just the effect you had on him, though. One look in his direction would have Minghao’s stomach in knots. He always got like this around you, and it was fucking embarrassing.

Every time he tried to talk to you it was like he’d forget the entirety of the English language. Even practicing what to say didn’t help, he’d just stumble over his words as soon as he looked you in the eyes. It was hard enough to focus when you were just standing next to him, and if you were touching him? He was a lost cause.

Like right now, Minghao was using all of his energy not to get hard, all from a simple touch of your hand. It was pathetic, he was pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. He tried thinking of a response to your compliment, but his mind was blank.

He didn’t even know why you liked talking to him, seeing as he was always making a fool of himself around you. And if you knew that he raced home to jerk off after almost every interaction he had with you, he’s positive you would never speak to him again.

When Minghao looked back up, he realized you were staring at him with an expectant expression on your face. You must have asked him a question while he was distracted, and now he looked like an idiot because he’d completely missed it.

“Sorry, what?”

Your eyes sparkled as you smiled at him. “I asked you to take me to the dance floor.”

“To do what?” he said stupidly.

You just shook your head and laughed, grabbing his hand. “Come on.”

Minghao let you lead him back through the house into the living room, where all the furniture had been pushed to the walls to make space for a makeshift dance floor. It was still as crowded as it had been when Minghao had first arrived with Joshua.

Before he could say anything you were pulling him along through the mass of sweaty bodies to the middle of the crowd and putting his hands on your waist, wrapping your own arms around his neck.

The song that was playing wasn’t very suitable for slow dancing, but Minghao swayed to the rhythm anyway, letting the music do the talking for him. He swallowed his nerves and steadied his hands on your body. It was now, or never. He was much more confident like this, in his element. He took you by the hand and spun you away from him, twirling you back as soon as your arm was fully extended.

Your back was pressed against his chest now, and he let his hands slide from your hips down to your thighs. You pushed your ass into him and bent forward slightly, teasing. He took the bait, grinding his hips into yours. When you looked back at him you saw a completely different person than the one you’d dragged to dance with you.

His eyes were dark, a cocky smirk playing at his lips as he gazed down at you. The tip of his tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on moving both of you to the beat. You suddenly found yourself wondering what it would feel like on your naked body, but before you let yourself fantasize any further, the song was changing and Minghao was turning you back around.

Instead of simply placing his hands on your waist where they had been before, he wrapped his arms around it so that your bodies were flush against each other. He didn’t say anything at first, taking his time admiring the dainty pink earrings dangling from your ears and then the tarnished gold locket adorning your neck.

“You are pretty smooth,” you whispered.

He met your eyes and cracked a smile. “Like I said.”

You were so close to him that he could feel your gentle breaths on his face. He zeroed in on your lips, slightly parted and stained with whatever lipgloss you had put on earlier. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to wind his hand through your hair and feel your tongue in his mouth. He wanted to drag you to the nearest bathroom and kneel between your legs as he gives you indescribable feelings of pleasure... but he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to tell you first.

“I, uh, I made a promise that I would tell you tonight,” he said shakily, giving no context whatsoever.

“Tell me what?” you asked, blinking up at him.

Just do it, pussy.

“That I like you.” He was trying to sound sure of himself, ride the wave of confidence that had brought him this close to you in the first place. He scanned your face for a reaction, but you gave none so he continued. “I know it’s kind of cheesy to confess my feelings on Valentine’s Day, but I’ve had a crush on you for so long that Jeonghan finally talked me into it. Don’t worry if you don’t feel the same way or anything, I don’t mean to put you on the spot. I just thought you deserved to know.”

Even with it off of his chest, Minghao was still panicking because you hadn’t said anything in response yet. He didn’t know if you needed time to process or were trying to figure out the nicest way to let him down easy, but-

But then you were kissing him. You’d taken him by the collar and stood up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, anchoring yourself against his chest. It was so short that he couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t imagined it, but when you broke away he could still taste your chapstick on his lips.

“I was wondering how long it would take you,” you sighed breathlessly.

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“I like you too, idiot. I was wondering when you’d finally notice.”

“You do?”

“I’ve been dropping hints for what feels like forever! I like you so much- I was like half a second away from asking you if you wanted to get out of here.”

“Get out of here?” Apparently Minghao was only capable of asking questions at this point in time. Suddenly you looked nervous, shy even. Like you weren’t sure if you’d gone too far too soon. “Like, go back to my place... if you wanted.”

There was that dark look in his eyes again. “I don’t think I can wait that long,” he admitted.

You smirked. “Well, then what can we do about that?”

“Follow me.”

Minghao took the lead this time, retracing his steps back to the bathroom that he had accidentally come across earlier when he had been looking for you. By some miracle it was empty now, and Minghao pulled you inside.

He pushed you up against the door and locked it as he kissed you. He wanted to show you just how much he wanted you, wanted to show what he was thinking about when you’d kissed him a few moments earlier and he was frozen in shock. He pushed his tongue into your mouth and groaned when he felt you moan into his mouth.

You grasped at his clothes desperately, whining as he kissed down your neck, only stopping when he reached the collar of your blouse. You thought he would take it off, but instead he traveled lower, lower, lower until he was on his knees on the tile floor in front of you. You understood what he was asking for from the earnest look in his eyes as he ran his hands along the backs of your thighs.

“I think my legs will give out if I’m standing,” you said sheepishly, biting your bottom lip.

“That’s okay,” Minghao replied and stood up.

You were hoping you hadn’t disappointed him, but then he was lifting you up and setting you down on the counter. He was surprisingly strong. He didn’t even look winded as he knelt down again.

“We have options.”

The countertop was cold under your bare thighs, but you barely registered it as Minghao parted your legs and pushed your skirt up. You were thankful you’d decided to wear something lacy for the occasion, not that you had been expecting this to happen.

“Can I?” he asked, running a thumb underneath the waistband of your panties.

You nodded, and it was all he needed to pull them off of you. You didn’t miss how he slipped the thong in his pocket before burying his face in your cunt, but decided not to say anything about it.

Minghao’s tongue found your clit instantly. He circled it languidly, groaning. You whined and tangled a hand in his long hair.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” you gasped.

He chuckled and you cursed as the vibrations traveled up your spine.

Minghao felt like he had died and gone to heaven. At the very least he’d been given a gift by the gods. Never in a million years did he think he’d be lucky enough to touch you, taste you, like he was now. He wasn’t even thinking about fucking you right now, he didn’t want to push his luck, and he was more than pleased to just eat you out. Pride swelled in his chest as your moans got louder and louder, knowing he was the one making you feel good.

He paused momentarily to wet two of his fingers on his tongue and slip them into your pussy, reveling in the strangled moan of his name that came as a result. Turns out, he didn’t even need the extra lubrication because you were already soaking for him. He told you as much.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he mumbled in awe.

“All for you,” you cried. “I’ve been wet all night for you, you have no idea.”

Minghao was already so hard- and your filthy mouth was doing nothing to keep him from cumming right then and there. He distracted himself by attaching his mouth to your clit again, still pumping his fingers in and out of you.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and you leaned back to rest your head against the mirror. It was only two fingers, and yet you felt so full. You weren’t sure how you were going to take his cock if it was as big as you suspected it was.

Having Minghao, the boy you were not-so-secretly in love with, in such an intimate way was overwhelming, in all senses of the word. You didn’t know what to make of it. It was simultaneously a relief and a struggle. You had been aching for him for what felt like hours, and now that you finally had him you were fighting that familiar feeling in your stomach that threatened to overtake you.

He was making you feel so good, but you were nervous. What if he didn’t like the way you came? What if it was too wet, too noisy? It sounded ridiculous, seeing as you’d already made it this far, but as hard as you tried you couldn’t push the anxiety down.

As if he could tell you were holding back, Minghao lifted his head and kissed the inside of your thigh.

“Go ahead, baby. Let go.”

His assurance helped you relax a little and he offered you his free hand to hold as he went back to sucking on your clit. You took it gratefully and squeezed hard. He had you on the edge again in no time and this time you held his head in place with your other hand, rutting against his mouth as you came on his tongue and fingers.

Both you and Minghao were breathing hard once you came down from your high. He got to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like he had just won the fucking lottery.

“What?” you asked shyly.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cum,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, you’re so fucking pretty all the time, but god damn.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious! I almost ruined my pants watching you.”

“Well in that case,” you began, smiling like you knew something he didn’t. “Wanna see it again?”

Sex was a lot like dancing, Minghao thought as he thrust into you. There was rhythm, technique, and he was good at both. He prided himself on knowing how to make his partners feel good. Much like when he was on the dancefloor, Minghao was insanely confident in bed.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, hands clutching his biceps, whimpering his name in his ear. His voice was low and raspy and he sounded just as gone as you felt. Just imagining him giving you orders with it was making you clench around him.

His cock was even bigger than you had imagined and you felt like it was splitting you in half as he snapped his hips into yours. The stretch had been fucking euphoric when he first pushed it inside of you, and now you were embarrassingly cockdrunk- slurring your words and barely able to keep your eyes open. You were holding onto your last shred of self control with everything you had, trying not to cum without him. It was Valentine’s Day after all, you wanted to be a little romantic.

Little did you know, Minghao was in a similar predicament. He didn’t want to cum too soon and humiliate himself, but you were making it so hard to hold back. It was like your cunt was made for him. He fit so snugly within your walls. He could reach your g-spot effortlessly.

“Hao,” you whined.

“Are you close?” he panted.

“Yes, yes I’m so close please don’t stop. Please make me cum, Hao! P-Please let me cum...”

You were so polite, asking for his permission to orgasm. Minghao liked it more than he preferred to let on.

“Cum for me, angel. Let go.”

As soon as he felt your walls fluttering around his cock he knew he was mere seconds away from following suit.

“Fuck! Can I cum inside of you?” He was practically begging. He knew he sounded pathetic, but he didn’t care.

And he was wearing a condom, but he still wanted to be considerate- especially since this was your first time having sex together. As much as Minghao wanted to cum inside of you, as much as he wanted to use your pussy to ride out his high, he needed to know that you wanted it too.

“Yes,” you sobbed. “Please cum inside me, give me all of it.”

Minghao came with a grunt of your name, burying his head in your shoulder. You moved your hips weakly to help prolong his orgasm, smiling tiredly as his moans of pleasure turned into whines of overstimulation.

As spent as you were, hearing them did something to you. Another time.

Hao helped you clean up and fix your skirt, brushing his fingers through your hair to try and make it presentable again. It was a lost cause, messy from being pushed up against the mirror and tugged on repeatedly, but you appreciated the effort. He gave you back your underwear, explaining that he’d only put them in his pocket so they wouldn’t be misplaced.

“Wanna get out of here now? You could stay over at my place tonight,” he suggested.

“Should we say goodbye to everyone first?” you asked.

Minghao thought about the shiteating grin Joshua would give him as soon as he was in his line of sight with you on his arm and decided he didn’t want to deal with that tonight.

“Nah, they’ll figure it out. Let’s just go, I bet you’re tired.”

“Uh huh, ‘tired’.” You winked.

He scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

That settled it. Minghao needed to get you home now. He’d have to thank Jeonghan in the morning.

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove @tantofaz123-blog @lee-hjyjn @ateez-star @baesgyus @likexaxdaydream @sunniesoobin @thefairwhitelight @pretty-thoughts @yutayoongi @redamancygnf @hoe4wonwoo @yeostars @i-might-be-in-love-with-hao @camernrodrigoswift @nichobins @bfwonu @arikimtanapon @ammcg0119 @redspider267 @fwess @horangipowerr

minghao tags: @yeombin @chanlatte17

add yourself to my taglist here 

✶ seventeen when you take your promise ring off during a fight

ft. performance unit

-> vocal unit | hip hop unit

junhui: he only notices it when you start to walk away. there's a lull in the kitchen, the type of weighted silence that lies thick and suffocating in the air, waiting for someone to make the first move. junhui takes the knife and slices. ("we can talk about it tomorrow," he says.) it gives you both time to be angry about it, sleep it off, then apologize. except, he sees the glint of metal rolling around in your fingers, and your still-empty ring finger when you turn around to leave. junhui has always given you time, given you the space to cool off and talk about it next morning, but he feels if he lets you and the ring go to sleep like that—("your ring," junhui calls quietly, his voice almost fragile with the way he speaks it. he hopes it's just a reminder, not a plea.) the band freezes in your fingers before you silently slip it back on.

soonyoung: he goes quiet. arguments with soonyoung are agitated, barely contained words exchanged like the beginning spark of a lit match; it's never loud, always tense, but soonyoung sees the fidgeting slide of your ring on and off your finger and his match snuffs out. his words trail off into nothing but a wisp of smoke, argument dying with it as he silently walks over to you, a careful yet gentle hand on yours. ("stop." it's the ash that falls from the top of burned incense, the soaking of a matchstick in water.) if you held your breath, you'd notice the slight tremble in his hands before your fingers left your ring and entwined with his instead.

minghao: the second you touch the band on your finger, he stops. ("let's talk about it later," he amends, eyes flickering to your hand before looking up at you as a sort of silent mutual understanding, only to find a hard stubborness in your eyes.) to him, the small gesture is a sign that you need time to cool down, to talk about it civily when the fight isn't so fresh in both your minds; to you, the postponing is something he just says. when is later? when will you talk it over again? when will his words mean something more than just pacifying platitudes? ("no," you declare, firmly planted, metal burning. "we need to talk about this now." you need him to understand this, to understand that it's worth it.) and to him, nothing was worth more than you. so he sits down, and you talk it through, and you apologize.

chan: you see the panic fly through his eyes. the ring has always been a comforting presence to you, grounding you when you need it most. but in the midst of a fight, the metal feels too tight around your finger. you needed to feel the skin beneath it again. chan stops mid-speech the moment he sees you pull it off your finger, alarm in his voice when you move to put it on the table. chan says your name like a fraying thread, as if wide eyes and closing distance were the only things he could do to keep it together, to keep you with him. (he looks between you and the ring, panic barely kept within its confines as chan tries not to spiral. "what...what are you..." is all he can manage to get out, words buzzing as they leave his tongue. you pause, startled, following his shaky gaze to the ring between your fingertips, and you breathe out a single noise. "oh.") you're not, you assure him, metal band warm in your palm. you would never. chan doesn't stop looking at you with trembling eyes until he can slide it on your finger himself.

it’s all fun and games

summary: reader thinks it’s fun to troll her buddy, mingyu, for being all big and strong. and it is! except at some point it turns out maybe she’s not just teasing and they’re both into it (and each other)

pairing: mingyu x female reader 

word count: ~8.6k (dear god, they keep getting longer and whyyyyy???)

genre: smut, kinda fluffy at times, humor, friends to lovers

contains: adult content (18+), unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f. receiving), manual stimulation (m. and f. receiving), size kink, strength kink, dirty talk and coarse language, jealousy, possessiveness, teasing/trolling, petnames

shoutout to @hotgirlmingyu for looking this over for me when i was having a bit of an asdgasdhgjafs, does this suck??? moment.

Mingyu was a big guy. 

He just was, in the sense that most people looked and would be considered small in comparison to him. He was tall and broad-shouldered with biceps that broadcasted his strength and pecs that, unless he was wearing an actual coat or any sort of puffy, ill-fitting top were impossible to miss. You hadn’t seen his abs, but you would guess that his torso was as fit as the rest of him. 

All of which was to say that it wasn’t news that he was either large or strong. For the most part, though, it had become a sort of…background noise. Like, the sky was blue, fire was hot,  water was wet, and Mingyu was big. When you’d first met, sure, it had maybe made you a little weak-kneed because you felt honest-to-God tiny and delicate next to him. And okay, yeah, he was also obviously a very good-looking man. You had eyes. 

You and he had slipped into a friendship, though, and so the crush (in your own thoughts, you could admit it) sort of faded away in favor of an easy back and forth, playful friendship. Which was probably why you felt so comfortable teasing him after it happened. 

It, in this case, being you catching him flexing and essentially puffing out his chest – preening, really – for the barista at the coffee shop where you were meant to be meeting him. You stayed back for several moments, just watching him show off and grin at the reaction of the poor barista who was visibly flustered, shaking your head and trying not to laugh at his antics. Eventually, though, you a) wanted coffee and b) couldn’t resist the urge to give him a hard time. 

Smiling widely, you walked up behind Mingyu, sliding your arm through his and letting your hand wrap around his bicep, cooing up at him. “You’re so strong, baby.” You ignored the choked noise he made in favor of turning your attention to the barista and lowering your voice as if to commiserate. “Is he giving you a hard time? I’m so sorry. He’s hot and he knows it.”

The barista laughed and assured you that he wasn’t and that it was okay, smiling shyly at you as she gently slid the two drinks across the counter toward you and Mingyu. 

You thanked her and passed Mingyu his before grabbing your own, then finding yourself being dragged away by the arm still – oops! – linked through his. Carefully holding the coffee in your other hand because you did not want to wear it, you pursed your lips and pulled your arm from his as soon as the two of you were outside and there was the space to separate. 

“Gyu, geeze,” you half-grumbled, half-laughed.

“Don’t ‘Gyu, geeze,’ me,” came his response as he moved to stand in front of you and looked down at you, his expression somewhere between amused and confused. “What was that?”

Lips pressed to the lid of your coffee, you hummed as you took a sip and gave him your most innocent, wide-eyed, fluttering lashes look. “Hmm?”

He scoffed, but the twitch of his lips belied his good humor. “Oh, are we doing that now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, baby,” he crooned, grinning when your response was to start coughing, glaring up at him, and smacking your own chest. “You okay there?”

You held your hand up in the universal shush symbol until you were able to recover from the whole being-provoked-into-inhaling-your-coffee thing. Once you had control over yourself again, you were able to speak. “Maybe wait until I’m not in the middle of swallowing next time?”

Mingyu smirked. 

It took you a moment but then you rolled your eyes and bit back a smile. “I seriously can’t take you anywhere. Rein it in,” you said, giving his chest a soft push and gesturing behind him with your chin, reminding him that you were meant to be walking. “It’s too early for innuendo and we’re going to be late.”

----------------

A couple of days later, you ran into Mingyu at the gym. 

You must have missed each other when you initially came in and headed straight for the group HIIT class, but the sound of your name being called across the room as you exited the smaller group room into the main area was unmistakable. Your head turned toward the voice and your lips curved into a smile when you recognized him, seeing a matching smile on his face and Seungcheol standing next to him, hand raised in greeting. 

Of course you moved to join them at the weight bench and, as you and Seungcheol settled into a conversation, Mingyu went right back into lifting. Every so often, his grunts would tear your attention away from Seungcheol and you’d find yourself glancing over at him. 

Clearly he had been there a while, given the way his body was basically glistening with sweat, his hair wet and sticking to his temples. Despite yourself, your gaze caught on and watched a drop of sweat sliding down his neck, disappearing into his shirt. Which really just brought to your attention to the fact that the shirt was sleeveless, your eyes focusing on the flex and release of his muscles as he pressed the weights over his head. 

Jesus, he was distracting. 

Seungcheol cleared his throat and you turned back to him, forcing a neutral expression onto your face. “Don’t even say it.”

His lips quirked at the corners and he raised both hands. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Your eyes say so much that the words aren’t even necessary.” 

“I can’t control my eyes. You should be able to empathize with that, shouldn’t you?” There was just enough emphasis in his words and just enough knowing in his gaze to make you shift from foot to foot. 

“I –”

“What are you guys even talking about?” Mingyu asked, placing the bar on the rests and turning on the bench to face you and Seungcheol, his brows pulled together. 

“She was just –” 

“We were just talking about how big your arms are,” you cut Seungcheol off, moving to stand in front of Mingyu and widening your eyes exaggeratedly. When in doubt, apparently your new MO was to go for over-the-top and excessive – so much so that there was no way he or anyone else could take it seriously. You purposefully let your gaze sweep over the length of his biceps and forearms, then drifted to his chest. “And your pecs. God, Gyu.” 

Seungcheol snorted – he actually snorted – behind you. 

Mingyu, though, looked back and forth between you and Seungcheol, like he wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or to be suspicious. “T-Thanks. I, uh, I work hard,” he said, running a hand through his hair, and he might actually have been blushing. 

Which was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen, honestly.

You grinned and reached forward to squeeze his shoulder. “I can tell, baby,” you cooed down at him. “I bet you could even bench press me.” You continued the tease, then let go and stepped back. If you felt butterflies in your belly at the sight of Mingyu’s mouth dropping open and the heat that flashed in his eyes in response or the brief mental image you got of him doing exactly that… you would take that with you to the grave. 

Giving yourself a mental shake, you glanced over at Seungcheol then back at Mingyu. “Well! I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you two around, okay?”

“Wait –” Mingyu started, rising from the bench and taking a step toward you. 

Seungcheol just looked amused and you fucking knew he was going to call you later with questions. “See you.”

“Bye!” You called out, already walking toward the exit. You had to get out of there before you thought too long or hard about why Mingyu’s response to the teasing affected you the way it did.

----------------

The expected phone call with Seungcheol went something like this:

“So, you’ve got a thing for Mingyu, huh?”

“I absolutely do not have a - a thing for Mingyu.” 

Seungcheol chuckled and you could practically hear his smirk across the line. “You wanna try that again, maybe without the stuttering? I might actually believe you then.”

You flushed and gritted your teeth, grateful he couldn’t see the pink in your cheeks. “I do not have a thing for Mingyu. I have a thing for fucking with Mingyu.”

“Eye-fucking him, maybe,” Seungcheol countered, voice filled with mirth, absolutely at your expense. 

“Okay, first of all, I am a woman who is attracted to men and I have eyes. If you were the one in the sleeveless top, sweating and grunting in exertion, lifting God only knows how many pounds, I would’ve been looking at you, too,” you argued, definitely not defensive. Nope. 

Not at all. 

“You’ve seen me doing exactly that many, many times, and I don’t recall you ever looking at me like you wanted to –”

“Stop! Right there,” you protested in a rush. “Mingyu and I are friends.”

His sigh was loud and his tone was clearly exasperated when he replied. “If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Fine. Glad we sorted that out.”

----------------

The next time you saw Mingyu was at a picnic for your whole friend group. You knew he was already there when you pulled into the parking lot, so you texted him for help bringing the drinks and food you’d brought from your car to the spot everyone had set up at. 

You were leaning into your open trunk, switching things from bag to bag in order to consolidate and make for the fewest trips, when he came up behind you and grabbed your hips, leaning over you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

Nearly jumping – and you would have if his body wasn’t basically covering yours and his hands weren’t holding your body in place – you let out a startled gasp, heart hammering in your chest before you realized it was him. “What –”

“Easy there,” you heard him say softly into your ear before the hands on your hips squeezed gently, “It’s just me.”  Mingyu then released you and drew back, coming to rest on the bumper of your car, looking wholly pleased with himself. 

“Mingyu, I swear to God – Just for that, you get to carry the heavy stuff!” You gave yourself several moments for your heart to stop racing and for the blood to stop rushing through your head, body still trying to work its way past the initial startle. Deliberately not allowing yourself to think about anything else – namely, the way your body had reacted to that squeeze of your hips with him pressed up behind you. 

That was just biology, anyway. 

Or something like that. 

Mingyu laughed and his smile widened. “Worth it.” 

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him, trying not to let your lips twich and betray your own enjoyment. His good humor was contagious, but there was a point to be made here!

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry!” As he stood back up, he held his hands out. “Load me up.”

Your smile was wicked when you hefted the cooler full of beverages into his arms, then plopped several bags down on top of it. “That’s not too much for you, is it?” you asked as sweetly as could be. “Not too heavy?” You grabbed the one remaining bag, that one carrying bags of chips and clearly the lightest of the bunch, and pulled the trunk closed. 

He shook his head and lifted the cooler higher, not looking like he was exerting himself too much, but you did feel a little bad. 

“Are you sure? Because I was just messing with you and I really can –”

“No,” he said with another shake of his head and turning away when you reached out to grab for one or more of the bags. “I’ve got it, I promise. You brought it here, the least I can do is carry it.”

And he really did. 

When you got to the area where everyone else was and Mingyu placed the cooler on the ground, you came up behind him, rested your palm against his shoulder blade, and couldn’t help yourself. You said, “Thank you, baby. I don’t know how I would’ve carried all of that without you. You’re just so much stronger than me,” then dropped the bag of chips onto the picnic table and walked over to greet the others, leaving him to stare after you and not looking back to see the mix of emotions play across his face.

----------------

After that, it just became a habit for you to point out how big he was, how strong whenever the opportunity presented itself, sometimes on purpose and sometimes just because – now that you had started actively noticing again, you noticed. 

Like the time a couple of the guys and you, including Mingyu, had got caught in the rain after lunch at a restaurant near your place. Since your apartment was closer and nobody had any pressing plans, you decided to just run there and hide out until the rain let up. You changed into a set of dry clothes and handed the guys dry shirts – you couldn’t do much about their pants, but you definitely had some oversized shirts lying around. In your defense, it wasn’t as though you intentionally gave him a shirt that his torso stretched so much that it was a miracle it didn’t tear. It was just the biggest shirt you had and, breasts or not, they were no match for his broad shoulders. 

“Oh,” you’d said a little breathlessly as you watched him try to squeeze into it and fought to pull it down to cover his upper body. “I, uh, fuck. You’re big.” The damned shirt left his belly bared and lord have mercy, but you couldn’t look away from his abs. They really were as fit as the rest of him. 

You watched as a shiver seemed to run through him and heard his breathing pick up pace, which was enough to shake you out of your stupor and into action. “Shit, you’re still cold, right? Hold on. I think I ended up with one of my ex’s hoodies after the break-up!” 

You’d managed to grab said hoodie from your closet and toss it at him before escaping into the living room where the rest of the guys were watching some action movie. 

A mischievous voice in the back of your head was the reason for the lion’s share of the instances, though. 

Including the time you decided you wanted to rearrange your living room on a random Saturday morning. The two of you were standing in your living room and you purposefully bit at your lower lip, giving him your best doe eyes and asked him so nicely, “Gyu? Can you help me move my couch? It’s just so heavy and it’s way too big for me to move, but I know how strong you are and I just – can you?”

He had squeezed his eyes shut and you watched the rise and fall of his shoulders as he appeared to take a very deep breath before opening his eyes and smiling kindly over at you. “Sure! Where do you want it?”

Oof. There was a question your brain chose to interpret in the absolutely wrong way. Were you teasing him with this or were you torturing yourself? Probably both, but fuck if you could stop. 

“Uh, over – over there, please.”

“There?” he asked, gesturing, and you nodded. He took a step toward the couch, looking back at you over his shoulder and you could have sworn his gaze flickered down to your lips. “Okay, baby. If that’s where you want it, that’s where you’ll get it.”

You really hoped he didn't see – or hear – your reaction to the endearment or the ease with which he moved the heavy couch across the floor. The way your breath hitched in your throat or the way you chewed at your lower lip, traitorous body clenching around nothing. And you couldn’t exactly complain because a) you’d started it, b) you actually really didn’t want him to stop. 

Which was absolutely something you needed to unpack later. 

Time to brazen it out again, apparently. You walked up to Mingyu and hugged him from the back as he settled the couch into its new location. “Thank you,” you said breezily, forced though the nonchalance may be. “You’re my own, personal Superman.”

The doorbell signaled the arrival of your other friends, pulling your attention (and arms) from Mingyu as you went to answer the door. 

Some small part of you was aware you may be playing with fire, but the larger part of you almost wanted to get burned. 

Not that you would, of course. Because you two really were just friends.

You were. 

And so it continued. 

You needed something from a tall shelf? You asked him to get it for you and gushed over him when he handed it to you. 

You were playing a game of soccer in the park and he kicked the ball completely normally hard? You laid the praise on thick for the power in his legs. 

It didn’t matter how innocuous whatever the action was or the looks everyone else gave the both of you. You, for the clearly over-the-top emphasis on Mingyu’s size and strength. Mingyu for the way he would either blush or lean into it, asking if you needed anything else – anything at all – kicking the ball harder the next time, grabbing more bags on his next trip, adding more weight to his sets. 

You just kept poking and he kept rolling with it, the two of you falling into a new sort of routine.

The most recent instance of which being when your heel broke as Mingyu was walking you home. He’d met you for a quick coffee and snack on your way home from work. You certainly didn’t plan for the heel on your shoe to break six blocks from your apartment, or for Mingyu to sweep you up in his arms, one tucked beneath your knees and the other resting against your back. 

In all honesty, the universe should get some credit for that one. 

His name came out on a shriek as you found yourself airborne, your arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling on your ass. “Mingyu!” You looked at him then down at the ground. If he dropped you from this height, it would definitely hurt. Tightening your hold around his broad shoulders, you lifted your gaze from the cement passing beneath you to his gaze.

“So this is what the world looks like from up here,” you said with a puff of laughter, a smile curving your lips as you watched him try to bite back his own smile. “I can walk, though, you know? It’s not the first time I’ve done the broken-heel hobble.” 

“I know you can, but you’re not going to.” He shook his head as you opened your mouth to protest. “You don’t have to. I’m here. Let me help you, yeah?”

You sucked your lower lip into your mouth, the action unconscious, but the playfulness in your voice was not. “You just wanna show off.”

His grin was instant and more than a little mischievous. “What am I showing off?”

Pfft. Now he was just fishing for compliments. But it was part of your game so you were, er, game. 

You loosened your death grip around his shoulders just enough that you could brush a hand across the width of his back and give one of said shoulders a squeeze. “These. The strength in them. How it doesn’t even phase you to pick me up and bridal carry me half a mile because you’re my big, strong hero.”

Mingyu’s hold on you tightened and his focus definitely dropped to your lips before he quickly turned his head forward to watch where he was going. “So you’re saying I have a hero complex?”

“Hah,” you playfully scoffed. “That and you have a strength kink so you just love it when people notice.”

Mingyu stopped in his tracks, turning his head and giving you an incredulous look. “I have a strength kink? Sweetheart,” he crooned, “I think maybe you need to look in the mirror before you start casting stones.” He called you ‘sweetheart’ and he fucking crooned, at which you felt the pink spreading across your cheeks and a wave of heat rush through you. 

You cleared your throat. “Maybe I do,” you said, injecting the words with as much casualness as you could. “And maybe I don’t. Maybe I just like the way you react when I point it out.”

The fingers curled around your knee squeezed, and you felt his very real strength in a different way. When his eyes darkened right then and there, your mouth went dry. 

“You’re late,” came a wry voice from somewhere behind you, breaking the impromptu staring contest you and Mingyu had entered into. When you looked over your shoulder and saw Seungcheol standing at the main door to your building, your eyes widened. 

“Cheol! I’m so sorry. My shoe broke on the way back and it took us a little longer,” you explained, smiling sheepishly. “Forgive me?”

“I can see that,” he replied, voice full of humor as he looked from you to Mingyu, “and of course I’ll forgive you. I’ve got her from here, man. You can head out.”

“No.”

“What?” you and Seungcheol asked in unison. Seungcheol had a brow arched at your other friend and you were looking at Mingyu like he’d grown another head. 

Mingyu didn’t look away from the other man when he elaborated. “I’ve carried her this far; I can carry her the rest of the way. Can you get the door?” he asked Seungcheol.

Seungcheol gave a shrug and did just that, catching your eye as Mingyu carried you past him through the doorway, the gleam in his eyes giving away his curiosity and ongoing amusement. He definitely wasn’t going to let you off the hook on this one.

When you got to your apartment, Seungcheol entered first and made his way directly to the couch in the living room, leaving you and Mingyu in the entryway. You tapped Mingyu’s shoulder and tried to extract yourself from his hold. “Okay, Hercules,” you teased. “You can put me down now. The damsel has safely made it all the way home.”

Not letting you down immediately, he instead shifted you in his arms so that you were sliding down the front of his body, toes just brushing the floor beneath you but not lowering you fully to your feet. You looked up at him curiously, trying to stretch your legs enough so you could actually stand, but were unsuccessful. “Mingyu?” 

He had a hand on your hip and the other arm was wrapped around the middle of your back, holding you pressed against him, when his gaze found yours, expression unreadable. “Why’s Cheol here?”

What?

“We’re studying. Well, he is. He has a paper and I promised him I would help with editing it,” you answered, surprising yourself with how soft and almost breathless your voice was. But God, it was one thing to see him in those tank tops and sleeveless tops or shirts that fit just right, and it was something else entirely to feel every one of those muscles against the entire length of your body. While he just held you there, not appearing to be exerting himself much if at all. Despite yourself, your arms slid back around his shoulders and you found yourself clutching at the back collar of his shirt. 

Mingyu’s lips curved into a smile and his expression shifted into something you could read: pleased. “Is that all?” 

“‘Is that all?’ Um, of course it is? What else would it be, you weirdo?” His question was enough to shake you out of your – very brief, thank you – moment of distraction caused by his ridiculous upper body and how damned tall he was that he could hold you there, still towering over you while your feet didn’t reach the floor. “Seriously, I’m home and I can stand. Let me down so I can go help Cheol and we can maybe finish in time for me to get some sleep tonight.”

“If you have to ask, then I’m not worried.” You felt your feet touch the ground and Mingyu’s hold release so that you were bearing your own weight again. If anything, he looked even more pleased with himself as he slid his arms from around you, but didn’t move away. 

Worried? You were going to ask him what that was supposed to mean but Seungcheol chose that moment to shout from the other room, “Are you two done flirting yet?”

You were going to kill him. 

“We’re not flirting, you brat!” You shouted back, pinching the bridge of your nose, hoping it was dark enough in the entryway that Mingyu somehow miraculously didn’t see the blush that crept over your face. Which was also really annoying because why the fuck were you even blushing? 

Mingyu grinned at you then leaned down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Aren’t we?” he asked, earning a wide-eyed look from you, before turning to leave. 

He left and you stood there for several moments trying to process those two words. Were you flirting? 

As expected, Seungcheol had his laptop open when you walked into the living room, but he wasn’t looking at it. Instead, he was smirking knowingly over at you, and you had to fight the urge to squirm under that gaze. 

Deciding that discretion really was the better part of valor and, maybe if you ignored him, he would let it go, you grabbed his computer and pulled it into your lap, eyes scanning the document. You lasted for all of thirty seconds before you broke. 

“Okay, what?” you asked, finally turning your head to look at him and finding him staring at you. 

“Are we not talking about that territorial display downstairs?”

“Terri– What territorial display?”

He laughed. “Please tell me you’re not that oblivious and are just faking it because you’re trying to get me to shut up.”

Given that you were still trying to process whether or not you and Mingyu had been flirting, you were so not ready to consider whether he had been acting territorial and definitely not to talk about it with someone else, not even Seungcheol. Maybe especially Seungcheol, given the two men were close. 

“Why ask a question when you already know the answer? Just go get me some water, please. And maybe some ibuprofen. I can feel the migraine coming on.”

----------------

Two days later, you had been able to do enough self-reflection to admit that okay, yes. You might have been flirting with Mingyu and maybe you sort of weren’t quite as over that crush as you previously believed. Or maybe you had been, but if that were true at some point, it probably wasn’t anymore. Some part of you got a thrill out of calling Mingyu, “baby,” and putting your hands on him. 

On the way he had blushed sometimes at first but how, more and more recently, he would touch you back and call you, “baby.” How he didn’t even hesitate to just pick you up and carry you across town for anyone to see. 

And fine, all right, it was possible that you’d woken up this morning from a dream about him whispering the endearment into your ear while he thrust himself into you, while your nails raked down his back and you panted his name, begging him not to stop. 

Fine. 

That didn’t mean you had to act on it, though, because This, too, shall pass and all that. You could flirt with your friend without it meaning anything.

As soon as you walked into the house party and your eyes spotted Mingyu laughing down at something some random woman you’d never seen before was saying, and the way she swatted at his bicep, though, you knew you were well and truly fucked. Neither of them were doing anything even remotely wrong and yet the hurt, the anger, the goddamn jealousy you felt burned through you and were mortifying. You were not going to claw some innocent woman’s eyes out for being rightfully attracted to Mingyu, who was your friend.

Just your friend.

Forcing yourself to tear your gaze away from the two unsuspecting victims of your eye daggers, you made a beeline for the kitchen and thus the alcohol. Wholly focused on not focusing on Mingyu, you missed the way his gaze followed you, brows drawn together.

Nor did you see his sharp eyes catch sight of Seungcheol entering after you, or the way those eyes narrowed in response. 

Instead, you grabbed a beer from the fridge and struggled to twist the cap off when your friend found you. Seungcheol rested his back against the counter next to you and watched you fight to twist the top off of a not a twist-off bottle, lips twitching. “Rough day, cupcake?”

“You,” you said in a voice that was half frustrated whine and half accusatory. 

“What about me?”

“You did this!” You grunted, pouting at the bottle in your hand and trying even harder to twist the damned lid off, glaring at the bottle when it didn’t budge. “I was totally fine – happy, even – living in, I don’t know, denial? Ignorant bliss?”

Seungcheol’s gaze drifted behind you, toward the entrance to the kitchen, and he looked like he was going to speak, but you cut him off. “But no, you just had to bring up me having a thing for Mingyu and flirting and ‘territorial displays’ and oh my God, Cheol! I have a thing for Mingyu. I so have a thing for Mingyu. And he’s out there – I mean, of course he’s out there flirting with a woman, okay, because we’re just friends, but fuck my fucking life.” 

Taking in a deep breath because, after that ramble, you needed it, you finally turned your attention away from the still-unopened beer and back to him. You took in the arched eyebrow and the quirk of his lips, and the way his focus was still behind you and over your head. 

“What are you even looking a–” you started, turning your head to figure out what was so captivating, and nearly dropped the bottle in your hand when you saw Mingyu standing not three feet away. “Oh hell.”

“I’ll take that as my cue.” Seungcheol gave your shoulder a pat as he walked by you, sharing a look with Mingyu that you couldn’t see – only the nod Mingyu gave before returning his full focus to you. 

Once Seungcheol was gone, you gave Mingyu your best impression of a definitely-not-embarrassed smile and forced out a cheery, “Hi!”

“Hi,” he said back, closing the distance between you two, hand reaching out to grab your hip gently to stop you when you started to take a step backwards. 

“How – uh, how much of that did you hear, exactly?” 

Mingyu’s lips curled into a smile and the hand on your hip squeezed, his thumb then brushing against your hip bone and causing you a shiver to make its way down your traitorous spine. “I walked up somewhere around ‘territorial displays.’ Which is kind of ironic, actually, because I was on my way in here to put on another one. Still might.” 

You groaned. “Oh God. You heard it all then.” The rest of his words registered and you let out a soft, confused laugh. “Wait, what? For whom, exactly?” You looked around the kitchen, mostly empty at the moment, save the two of you and a couple kissing in the opposite corner, clearly wrapped up in themselves. 

“You mean when I walked in or now?” Mingyu drew you closer to him, his other hand coming up to brush your hair back, his voice a quiet rumble. “I know you guys are friends, too, but every time I turn around, you and Cheol are together.” 

As he entered your space, your hands moved to rest against his chest and you swallowed hard. At the strength beneath your touch – not teasing now – and his closeness. The way he blocked everything from your view except him because he was so goddamn big. 

Which was how this whole thing started.

“I’ve been trying to tell myself that he’s not the one you can’t seem to stop touching,” Mingyu admitted, gaze dropping down to watch your hands, unconsciously stroking over his chest, sliding down his torso and causing his abdominal muscles to flex beneath your touch. Then he looked back up at you. “The one you keep calling, ‘baby.’”

Christ, you could feel the burn in your cheeks and you weren’t sure how much of that was from embarrassment at being called out or how much it was a result of feeling him flex under your fingertips and look down at you with a burning intensity in his eyes. You bit back a gasp when he dropped his head toward yours and you felt his breath against your face. 

“He’s not. I only do that with you, Gyu. You know that, don’t you?” 

He hummed, the hand at your face shifting to cradle the back of your head and tilt it further back. He leaned in closer and let his lips hover over yours. “I do now,” he spoke softly, closing the distance between your lips and brushing his against yours. “And I wasn’t flirting with her, just so that’s clear. Only wanna flirt with you.”

You sucked in a sharp breath then, your hands clutching at his hips. Unable to stop yourself, you rose up on your toes and pressed your lips into his in a soft kiss. 

Mingyu’s fingers tightened in your hair and he deepened that kiss, his tongue sweeping out to taste your lips, teeth capturing and gently nipping at your lower lip, tearing a soft whimper from you, which pulled a groan from him and had both of his hands slipping down to your waist, sliding down and around to cup your ass, dragging your hips into his. 

Lifting your arms up, you wound them around his shoulders and pressed closer, a thrill shooting through you, centering in your core, at the drop in pitch of his voice when his hands moved from your ass to the back of your thighs and he lifted you up his body, your legs automatically encircling his waist. “You want that? Want to be the only one I flirt with?”

You nodded, letting your forehead rest against his and trying your best to focus on answering him rather than rubbing yourself against him like a damned cat. “Mhm. Unless you want me to go flirt with someone else? I guess I could see what Cheol’s up to….” You wouldn’t, but the urge to push Mingyu’s buttons clearly hadn’t gone away.

His voice was a growl when he spoke and he brought a hand up to fist in your hair, grip tight enough for you to really feel the pull. Which you did. In a straight line from his hold to your cunt, which clenched in response, liquid desire starting to pool. “Not gonna fucking happen, baby.”

Your thighs squeezed his sides at that, and you let out an embarrassingly needy sound. God, why was it so hot to rile him up and hear him say shit like that? “No? Why – Why’s that, baby?”

The smile he gave you then was cocky, his dark eyes smoldering, knowing. “Guess you want that territorial display, huh? I’ve got you, sweetheart, and I’ll put on a little show just for you,” he promised. 

Did you want that?

Mingyu carried you out of the kitchen, just like that – legs and arms wrapped around him, very clearly staking his claim in front of anyone and everyone who happened to notice him walking you to his bedroom and shutting the door behind the two of you. Your gaze flickered behind him along the way, catching sight of the amusement on some friends’ faces, surprise on others’, and – you narrowed your eyes as you watched Hoshi pass cash to Jeonghan. You were totally going to kick both of their asses later.

You found yourself pressed up against the door as Mingyu closed it behind you, his big, broad form flush to you and holding you there. His hips giving a thrust into you and the friction where you’d needed it pulling a whimper from between your lips. You cursed, squirming against him, legs around him dragging him even closer, moaning his name at the hard length he rolled against your clothed cunt. “S-Shit, you’re big everywhere.” 

He let out a breathy laugh then and your insides went a bit melty at the slight flush you saw spread across his cheeks. “I could make a Red Riding Hood comment here, but I’m trying really hard not to.”

“...the better to fuck me with?” 

Mingyu’s eyes squeezed shut and his hips bucked into you before he turned you from the door and carried you over to his desk, dropping you down onto it and stepping back between your legs. His hands landed on your knees, slowly sliding up your thighs. “You gonna let me?” he asked, his voice thick with need, as he reached the apex of your thighs and he slipped a hand between them, fingers pressing along the seam of your jeans, mouth dropping open at the heat and the moisture he felt there. 

“God,” you gasped, jerking into his touch, your own hands coming to rest on his biceps and squeeze. “If you don’t, I’m gonna need the room, I –” you moaned when his fingers managed to roll the thick fabric against your clit, when his breath hitched and he groaned your name. 

“If I don’t fuck you, you’re gonna fuck yourself on my bed?”

Your nails dug into the backs of his biceps and you felt another wave of arousal drip out of you, soaking the denim beneath his fingertips. You nodded. “Make it nice and messy, too. So you can’t lie down there without thinking about me with my f-fingers inside myself. Without wishing it had been you inside me instead.”

The hand not between your thighs grabbed the nape of your neck, tilting your head back, and Mingyu stared down at you with naked hunger. “Who says I don’t already think about that when I’m lying there, hm?”

“You – fuck, please.” You let your head fall further back, but your hands moved to the hem of his shirt, pushing it up, palms pressed against the bare skin of his abdomen. Fingers tracing the lines of muscle there, following them up his torso. 

Mingyu drew back to pull his shirt up and over his head, tossing it behind him before he was back in your space, helping you get your own shirt off before returning to your space and covering your lips with his, his tongue sweeping between your lips and tangling with yours. Captured your little gasps and whimpers into his mouth as he unfastened your jeans and dragged them down over your ass, turning his attention to placing kisses and licks against your neck, voice a low rumble when you lifted your hips for him. “Mm, such a good girl for me. So helpful.”

You braced your weight with your hands, pressed flat to the desk on either side of your hips, nodding. “I can be a really good girl.” As if to demonstrate your point, you gladly kicked the denim away once it reached your ankles. “Especially if I’m properly motiva–” you broke off with a yelp when Mingyu fell to his knees in front of you and pulled your hips forward, lifted your knees onto his shoulders, and started nipping and kissing his way up your inner thigh. 

“What was that?” he crooned, lips curved into a smirk that said he knew exactly what he was doing to you and loved the effect he had on you already. 

“Properly motivated! I do well with – with that, Gyu…” 

His fingers pressed into the seat of your panties, groaning at how wet they were. He hooked those same fingers beneath the fabric of your panties, drawing it to the side and baring you to his gaze. “So fucking pretty, baby. Already so needy for me, I probably don’t even need to use my tongue on you, do I?”

He really didn’t, but fuck, you wanted him to. Your whine and the way you bucked your hips were all the response he needed, and he gave a soft chuckle, breath warm against your cunt and nearly a caress in and of itself. 

You lifted your hips for him again as he drew your panties down and off, and at the first swipe of his tongue along your slit, your elbows nearly buckled. When he flicked it against your clit, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked, the sharp stab of pleasure was so acute that you had to drop back down onto your forearms. Just the fucking sight of him with his head between your thighs – his contented hums that sent vibrations through through your sensitive bud, that had you dripping with need. He slipped two fingers into you and started pumping them, curling them, searching, searching until – 

“Mm, there it is,” he moaned, focusing the thrusts of his fingers there, nipping at your swollen folds, sucking them into his mouth, then his tongue was circling and swirling around your clit again and it wasn’t long until you were falling apart, falling back onto the desk and shaking, waves of release rolling over and through you.

Mingyu worked you through the orgasm, gentle kisses and kitten licks against your inner thigh, slowing the movement of his fingers until your hand covered his, pulling it from you and lacing your fingers together. 

You managed to lift your head enough to meet his gaze, letting yourself be pulled upright and into his arms. You let out a happy hum and dropped your forehead onto his shoulder before the temptation of his skin was too much, and you started to press kisses there. Traced a line with your lips up his neck, pausing just beneath his jaw to catch the skin between your teeth, sucking at the sensitive skin and earning a gasp from Mingyu. 

He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you into them, smiling down at you when your legs immediately wrapped around his waist. It was instinctual, as was the way your arms moved to hold him and the way you couldn’t. stop. covering his neck with marks. Completely enraptured with the way they looked on him. 

Mingyu carried you to his bed and laid you down on the soft surface, covering your body with his and settling between your thighs. “I’m going to get so much shit for those, you realize?” 

“Oh? My bad. Should I apologize?”

“Fuck, no. It’s worth it,” he said with one of those oh-so-self-satisfied smiles. Propping himself up on one hand, he traced his fingertips along your own neck, across your chest, slipping them just under the edge of your bra. “And this way I don’t have to apologize when I cover all of this pretty skin with my own marks.”

You bit back a whimper, breath hitching in your chest. “Yeah?”

He hummed an affirmation, cupping your breast in a hand, and you watched the sharp rise and fall of his chest as he gave it a gentle squeeze. Were enraptured when he tugged the fabric covering your breast to the side and groaned, tongue coming out to wet his lower lip while his thumb circled your areola. Round and round until finally he brought it to your nipple, rubbing against it, forefinger coming to join and softly pinch the swollen flesh. 

His hips were thrusting against your cunt, slow rolls that were nowhere near enough for either of you but were just enough to stoke the fire within you. You could feel the way your arousal was coating the fabric of his pants, soaking through it, as you pressed yourself up into the thrusts, in silent entreaty. 

“Fuck,” he rasped, lips replacing his thumb, tongue and teeth and those lips teasing your nipple while he ground down into you. 

Your hands cradled the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and you let out a breathy whine. “Want,” you started, legs locking behind his back and pulling him into you, moaning at the slow slide of his cock against your pussy, hissing when he circled his hips into yours. 

“What do you want, love?” Mingyu moved his lips from your breast to brush against yours, and he spoke against your lips while he stared down at you with eyes so full of heat you felt flames lick along your spine, centering in your sex. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

“You,” you answered simply. Your hands came to the waistband of his pants, slid beneath it so that you could wrap your fingers around him, stroke up and down along the length and let your thumb rub across the head. Gasping at the liquid you found there, at the precome that had slipped down the underside, easing your movements. “Think you need me, too, baby. Wanna feel you inside me so bad. Need to.”

Mingyu cursed and then he had his pants and underwear shoved down, kicked off toward the end of the bed. He held himself over you, weight borne on a forearm while his other held the base of his cock, guiding it through your desire-slicked flesh. Rubbed the tip against your clit. Teased at your entrance. “You want this?”

“Fuck, yes, God, Gyu, please.” You whimpered, whined, shifted your body beneath him. Your hands found his hips and you tried to tug him to you.

He captured your wrists and gathered them both above your head, holding them there, and you would complain – you really would – except there was that strength again. You looked up at him, your pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, and every bit of your expression spoke to how much you actually liked that. How much you wanted him. 

The flash in his own eyes told you he noticed. You heard him curse and watched him swallow hard, felt his grip on your wrists tighten. “You like being helpless beneath me, fuck. Gonna remember that,” he promised. “Do we need a condom?” His voice was tight and he looked tense enough above you that you don’t know how he held it together. 

“N-No. I’m – I’m good. Implant. Clean. You?” It wasn’t the most eloquent sentence, but it got the point across and, in the next moment, Mingyu was pushing into you. 

“Clean, too, shit, sweetheart. Feel so fucking good,” he groaned as his pelvis met yours, cock in you to the base, filling you so full. He drew his hips back and then slowly pumped them forward again, giving you time to get used to the feel of him, cunt stretching around him and your body learning his in the most intimate of ways. 

“Oh fuck, you can – you can move faster, Gyu. Harder. Need you to. Need you to – to show me how strong you are,” you admitted, burying your face in the crook of his neck and whimpering when he did. 

Mingyu sat back on his heels, hands coming to your thighs and dragging your body into his next thrust, this one a sharp snap of his hips into you that made your eyes roll back. “Fucking love how strong I am, don’t you? Always teasing me about being so big –” he emphasized with another deep, hard thrust, and another as he continued, “so strong.” 

Guilty as charged. 

“Like it doesn’t get you off, too,” you said on a gasp, arching beneath him, heated gaze taking in every detail: the movement of his hips, the tension in his abdominals with each thrust, his thick biceps flexing, the muscles in his forearms and the strength in his hands where they gripped your thighs, sure to leave marks there tomorrow. His face. God, his face. The way his brows drew together in concentration, how his gaze – still hot enough to burn and completely focused, wholly attentive to you and this and getting you both off – kept flickering between where his cock was disappearing into your cunt and your face, the way he clenched his jaw and growled out your name. 

Shifting his hold on your legs, Mingyu leaned forward, a hand coming to fist in your hair and drawing your face to his, taking your lips, your mouth in a kiss as wet and deep and harsh as the movements of his every thrust. You felt his fingers on your clit, circling and rubbing fast around the sensitive bud, making you cry out, and your breath hitch, and you fuck, you were a heartbeat away from coming again. 

Heard him rasp against your lips, “Gonna come for me, love?”

You nodded, and your voice was shaky, breathless. “Uh– Uh huh.”

“That’s my girl. Let me feel it,” he hissed, groaning, starting to lose his rhythm and you knew he was close, too. “Gonna come, too. Gonna fill you all the way up, huh?”

You whined out his name, and yes and please, Gyu, please, baby and wanna be full of you. It was enough. It was too much. It was everything. Your orgasm slammed into you, rolling through you like a wave, leaving you clinging to him and shuddering in his arms, pussy squeezing his dick, dragging him into bliss with you.

His face pressed against yours, cheek to cheek, you heard him moaning your name as he came. You felt the shuddering of his own body, above you, around you, inside you, as he spilled himself into you.

Felt yourself being rolled over and onto his chest. Felt his heart pounding under your cheek as you sucked in sharp breaths, little aftershocks of pleasure working their way through you. 

You pressed soft kisses to his chest then turned your face into the touch of his hand, let his palm cup your cheek and tilt your face to look up at him. The broad, happy, sated smile you saw there and the warm affection in his gaze brought a grin to your own face. 

“I realized I never said earlier,” Mingyu started, gently guiding you up his body so you were eye level. “In case it’s not glaringly obvious, I have a thing for you, too.”

A soft, happy puff of laughter left you then and you leaned down to kiss him. Tenderly. You brought a hand up to cup his jaw and couldn’t bite back a smile when he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm. “I may have had some suspicion for a second there, but it’s good to have the confirmation.”

It was Mingyu’s turn to laugh then and he shook his head, arms coming around you, holding you close. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

“Oooh, what time?”

“I was actually thinking like, all day.”

“What?”

“Breakfast, lunch, movie, dinner? I figure I have a lot of dates to make up,” he said and his smile took your breath away.

You hid your face against his chest, burying the – you were sure – dorky, smitten smile there, as you shifted to get more comfortable – and closer – to him. “A whole day of dates with my favorite superhero? I think I can make that work.”

✧ NCT/WayV Yangyang x reader ✧ words: ~800 ✧ genre: fluff ✧ warnings: suggestive ✧ prompts: kitchen counter make-outs + “i’ve had a terrible day at work so just kiss me” (from this list)

(requested)

Your shoulders ache and your back feels strained when you finally come home that night. You silently curse through gritted teeth when you accidentally drop your keys as you’re about to unlock the door, and picking them up to look for the right one a second time feels like it requires way too much effort. At last, the door opens and you can drop your bags and take off your shoes by the entrance, before scuffing right over to the living room. You let your body collapse down onto the sofa, and for a while you just sit there and stare at a wall, before your ears register the rustling noises coming from the kitchen.

“Babe?” you call out, and your boyfriend answers, albeit a bit delayed.

“Baby? You’re home?” Yangyang walks around the corner, ready to greet you with a bright smile, but once he sees the state you’re in, his expression shifts and he raises his eyebrows. “Did something happen?” You groan, not even wanting to talk about all the details that made this day so terrible.

“I had a bad day and I’m really exhausted,” you simply state, and a moment later you feel your boyfriend wrapping his arms around you from behind, squeezing you tight.

“My baby had a bad day?” he coos, snuggling up closer to you and pressing his nose and lips against your cheek. He faintly smells like vegetables and seasoning, and you’re wondering if he’s attempting to cook something for dinner. “Do you need some coffee?”

“At this hour??” you retort.

“There’s nothing a cup of coffee can’t solve,” Yangyang states as he gets up, letting go of you.

“It certainly can’t solve whatever just went down in the past hours…” you mutter.

“That bad?”

“Yeah.”

“But you didn’t get fired, right?” You ignore the concern in his voice and you let out a bitter laugh.

“I wish…”

“Well, let me at least make you some dinner then,” Yangyang proposes as he walks back to where he came from.

“Babe, you can’t cook…” you say, but you follow suit into the kitchen anyway. 

“I’m learning!” he argues, pointing at a recipe on his phone that he’s trying to follow and some half chopped up ingredients. 

“Sure…” You sigh and you hop up onto the free kitchen counter on the other side. 

“Babe…” he calls out to you as he walks over, resting his hands on your thighs and tilting his head to the left slightly. “You’re not supposed to sit on the kitchen counter while someone else is making food.” You’re speechless. You’re tired and in a bad mood overall, and he thinks now is the time to scold you for something like that. However, you don’t really have the energy left to fight, so instead you put your hands over his.

“Baby, please… I’ve had a terrible day at work so just kiss me.” The mischievous grin on his face disappears immediately, and after a second of processing the meaning behind your words he lifts one hand to put it behind your neck, pulling you closer.

“Okay,” you hear him mutter before closing the distance between the two of you, and when you feel his lips moving against yours you can finally relax a bit. He kisses you slowly at first, but when he pulls back and you both catch a glimpse of each other’s faces, you immediately connect your lips again, kissing each other more passionately now. Hungrily, he runs his tongue across your lower lip, and you permit him to deepen the kiss, while you throw your arms around his shoulders and you bury your fingers in his hair. Breathlessly, you part, and you find his gaze burning with desire for you behind half-lidded eyes. So you lean in again for another kiss, but soon his lips wander to your jaw and he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck. You sigh, enjoying the tingly sensations coursing through your body, and you hold him close as if to tell him not to stop. 

“Babe,” you mumble, and he comes back up to kiss you, before answering.

“Yeah?”

“I think you should cook a little later,” you say in between kisses. Knowing exactly what you’re trying to tell him, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you off the counter and making you stand right in front of him. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, lips only parting from yours to speak. “I think it can wait.”

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