Choi Seungcheol.......back It Up @ Be The Sun Concert In Tokyo [221127]

choi seungcheol....... —back it up @ be the sun concert in tokyo [221127]

CALL OF THE SIREN

PAIRING: siren!minho x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. fairytale!au CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 5.7k

SUMMARY: the effect he has on people is obvious, they’re drawn to him like he’s an oasis in a desert. then, with a small jingle of a bell that announces his arrival into your store, he attempts to ensnare you.

NOTE: my step back into writing after a little break. please let me know what you think! this is my interpretation of a siren. i know some people write them as mermaid type creatures. i wanted to write more the bird type, pretty bird singing in a cage and never touched and all of that jazz. whatever, hope you enjoy!

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

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The Package Thief (KNJ)

Beautiful banner by @btsstan12

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor

Summary: You have a new neighbor who is incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he seems to hate you for no discernable reason at all. Does he think that just because he's hot, he can get away with being an asshole?

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor

Word Count: 3,473

Warnings: Language, dimples, Namtiddies

~~~~~

The first time you saw your tall, handsome, dimple-cheeked neighbor, you were thrilled to have some eye candy in your apartment building. You had just moved in, and when he smiled at you in the lobby, you could have sworn you heard birds chirp and angels sing.

When you spotted him again while gathering up the packages for your floor, you perked up, hoping it would be your chance to get his name.

"Oh hey! Could you hold that for me?" you called as he stepped past the sliding doors. You juggled the boxes awkwardly in your hand as you hurried forward with a smile, only for the handsome stranger to glare at you as if you were doing something wrong. He then pressed a button that was clearly not to keep the door open, because it slid shut in your face.

"What the fuck?" you asked the air, staring at the metal frame incredulously. Who the hell did something like that? Did this asshole think he was too good to share the elevator with you?

Ugh, it figured. Of course someone that hot would never have learned to be a good person.

With a sigh, you jammed the "up" button with your elbow to wait for the next one. Your ire cooled as you waited, and you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he just had to take a shit really badly or something, and what you thought was a glare was actually his constipated face. He would probably apologize the next time you ran into each other.

~~~~~

Your neighbor did not apologize the next time you ran into each other.

If anything, he seemed to glare harder. And then the prick closed the door in your face, again. Unbelievable.

You weren't going to take this abuse laying down, so whenever you were in the position to do so, you returned the favor. It felt good to see the same irritation on his face each time the metal door slid shut, and you relished in your petty victories. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. Did he really think that just because he was hot, he could get away with being a dick?

On this particular day, you had worked late to clean up after a coworker's mistakes, and you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was take off your shoes and bra and listen to some music while you fought off the urge to angry cry.

Of course, because the universe hated you, you got to the lobby to see the smug, obnoxious smirk on your neighbor's face as he jammed the door close button. You clenched your teeth, feeling heat and frustration build behind your eyes, and gave him your most venomous glare as you flipped him off. You were not going to give this horrible piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

Once he was gone, you pressed the elevator button, only to notice the sign indicating the other was broken. So you had to wait for piece-of-shit to get to whatever the fuck floor he lived on before it came back. It was a small thing, but enough to break through the cracks of your composure, and you felt hot tears begin to leak down your face.

You wiped your eyes angrily and took several deep breaths while you pulled yourself back together. Well, if you were going to have to wait, you might as well bring the packages up to your floor again. No point in leaving them down here for anyone to take.

As you waited for the elevator, you wondered how in the world anyone could be such a raging asshole.

~~~~~

"God, someone stole a package again yesterday," groaned Namjoon over a glass of scotch. It was Friday, the first night he had free in weeks, and it felt good to unwind after being frustrated by his bitchy neighbor for so long. Seriously, what was up with her? Did she think that just because she was hot she could get away with stealing peoples' mail?

"Again?" Jimin said in surprise, taking a sip of his own drink. "What about building management?"

"What do you mean?" Namjoon asked with a baffled furrow of his brow. Jimin lived in the same building, but on a different floor. Now that Namjoon thought about it, he'd also never heard his friend complain about a single package stolen.

"Do they just not bring up your stuff soon enough?" Jimin questioned, cocking his head. "The girl who brings the packages for my floor even organizes them by unit order."

What the hell was Jimin on about? That wasn't a thing. Oblivious to his friend's confusion, Jimin rambled on, and Namjoon pondered on this new mystery. The only person he'd ever seen picking up several packages was –

"She's really cute too, and she's always smiling."

Okay nevermind, it wasn't her. He doubted he'd seen an expression on her face other than irritation and spite. She was definitely attractive, but hot bitch wasn't really the type that turned him on.

"Oh, there she is, actually!" Jimin chirped in excitement, eyes sparkling as he waved at someone over Namjoon's shoulder. "Hey, [y/n]!"

The mystery girl in question greeted his friend with a vaguely familiar voice, and when Namjoon turned to see who it was, he felt his stomach drop.

You stared back, clearly just as shocked, and Namjoon did his best not to ogle. You weren't wearing anything outrageous, just tight-fitting jeans, a slinky top that hugged your curves, and heels that highlighted how your ass filled out said tight-fitting jeans. Even without the clothes, the smile on your face was enough to make his stomach do something funny, though it quickly faded when you recognized him.

"This is my friend Namjoon!" Jimin continued cheerfully, oblivious to the tense atmosphere suddenly hanging over the table. "He lives in our building! Namjoon, this is [y/n], she's the building person that brings up our packages."

You gave a forced smile, and Namjoon felt the beginning prickles of nausea and anxiety as he realized he might have made a tiny misjudgment.

"I just do it for our floor because it's on the way," you explained quietly, avoiding his gaze. The edges of your smile grew warmer when you looked at Jimin, transforming your face from glacial beauty to soft sincerity.

"Then I definitely owe you a drink," Jimin responded with a laugh, motioning for Namjoon to scoot over to give you room to sit. He obeyed woodenly, mind racing as guilt weighed down his heart.

"Don't worry about it," you assured him with a chuckle that made something in Namjoon's chest ache. "I'm about to walk home, anyway."

"Alone?"

You looked at Namjoon in surprise, and he realized he spoke aloud. He cleared his throat, feeling like a stupid lump as he looked down at his drink with warm cheeks. Despite the relative proximity of the apartment, he didn't like the idea of you alone this late at night.

"Yeah? It's not that far," you said suspiciously, as if waiting for a snide comment. It made his chest sink, though it wasn't as if you didn't have a good reason for your misgivings. He spoke up again, hoping maybe he could talk to you and have the chance to explain his earlier behavior.

"Why don't you have a drink with us, and we can all walk back together?"

To his surprise, you stiffened and the corners of your mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Why? So you can make me take another elevator?" you asked angrily, making Namjoon flush and Jimin look between the two of you in confusion. "No thanks, my week has been exhausting enough already. I'll see you around, Jimin."

With that, you stomped away in unfortunately righteous indignation, and Namjoon barely had time to admire the sway of your hips before Jimin piped up.

"What was that all about?" his friend asked with a frown, his usually twinkling eyes now boring into Namjoon's. He felt heat creep up his face as he sighed and began to tell Jimin the entire saga, from how he had assumed you were stealing packages and proceeded to close the elevator door in your face, to the current state of antagonism. By the time he was finished, his friend's mouth was hanging open, and he felt more embarrassment at just how childishly he had acted.

"Joonie, I'm just really surprised," said Jimin wonderingly as he rubbed his forehead. "It's not like you to be like that."

Namjoon winced, knowing he was right. He liked to think that he was the more mature, level-headed one of their friend group, above silly squabbles and petty revenge. Obviously he had overestimated himself.

"I hope you haven't done anything recently, I think she's been having a hard time at work," Jimin mused, and Namjoon felt the lead weight of guilt in his stomach grow heavier. At this rate it was going to fall out of his butt. "She was crying in the lobby yesterday."

Well fuck. He really was an asshole.

~~~~~

You had just arrived home and flopped facedown on your couch when your recharging was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door. With a groan, you forced yourself up and peered through your peephole. What the fuck?

You made sure your chain lock was fastened before you unlocked the latch and cracked the door open, peering at your visitor dubiously.

"What do you want?" you asked, eyeing a beaming Namjoon in suspicion. You had never seen him look so cheerful, and you had to remind yourself he was not a golden retriever, no matter how cute he looked with flour dusting his nose or how deep his dimples were.

"I made cookies," he said happily, and you realized he was holding a paper plate covered in crumpled tin foil. "To apologize for the way I've been acting towards you."

You felt your brows raise at his statement, and you cast your eyes behind him in mistrust. Where had this one-eighty come from? Was it just because his friend lived on your floor?

Namjoon's shoulders drooped slightly at your lack of response, and he began to shift in place awkwardly.

"Um, I just – so I know I've been a dick to you," he began, chewing his lip and looking adorably embarrassed. "This is gonna sound stupid but I thought you were stealing packages when I saw you holding all of them."

For a moment, all you could do was stare.

"You thought that I would steal a bunch of packages, in the building I live in, while other residents were around?" you asked incredulously, making Namjoon turn bright red and clear his throat.

"Well, when you put it that way…" he mumbled awkwardly. "I just… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I hope we can start over."

He peered at you with such hopeful eyes that you felt your resolve crumble, and when you unhooked the chain from your door you could have sworn you saw a tail wagging.

"Okay," you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at the way he had perked up. Those dimples were serious weapons against your ability to hold a grudge. You held out your hand. "I'm [y/n], and I do not steal packages."

Namjoon laughed, a low, rich sound that you felt vibrate in your stomach, and took your hand in a firm, warm grip.

"I'm Namjoon, and I'm an idiot who jumps to crazy conclusions," he said with a grin that deepened the stupidly cute divots in his cheeks. Then he had to let go to save the wobbling plate of cookies from an untimely demise before holding it toward you with a look of chagrin.

You accepted his offering with a laugh, feeling like a warm bubble was floating in your chest. Then you bade your hot, not-asshole neighbor goodbye and set the plate on your kitchen table. You peeked under the foil, and decided maybe one cookie before dinner was acceptable. Or maybe two, if –

You took a bite of the soft, delicious looking pastry and immediately spat it out in disgust. What the fuck.

~~~~~

Namjoon Hyung! It worked!

Jin Wait, you actually made the cookies?

Namjoon Yes! They came out perfectly No fires and only a few cracked eggs on my floor!

Jin I'm impressed How'd they taste?

Namjoon Oh fuck

~~~~~

For the second time tonight, your evening was interrupted by unwelcome pounding at your door. You didn't even bother to check who it was this time.

"What do you have this time?" you snarled through the door, wondering if it was worth it to open it so you could strangle Namjoon's handsome neck. "Oreos with toothpaste filling?"

The knocking ceased, and a small, timid voice spoke up on the other side of the wood.

"Oh… you had one…"

"Unfortunately," you said shortly, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep his woebegone tone from softening your ire.

"I was hoping you hadn't yet," he wheezed through the door. "I forgot to taste them before I gave them to you."

He sounded sincere, and suddenly you realized he was speaking through pants, as if he was out of breath.

"Did you run all the way up here to warn me?" you asked in surprise, mollified enough to unlock your door and open it to reveal a rumpled looking Namjoon, bent over with his hands on his knees.

"Yeah – I didn't want to wait for the elevator," he replied, red-cheeked from exertion. "I'm sorry, I'm actually a disaster cook but I really thought I did a good job this time."

You felt your lips twitch into a smile at the imagine of tall, handsome Namjoon tasting a cookie and then immediately bolting up however many flights of stairs to stop you from eating them. What a clumsy idiot. A clumsy, adorable idiot.

"Do you want some water?" you asked, stepping aside to invite him in.

"That would be amazing," he gasped, giving you a grateful look as he walked inside. As he passed you, you noticed a few beads of sweat rolling down his temple. He really was even more attractive up close.

You directed him to sit on your couch as you grabbed a glass of water, and he picked up the book you had left on your coffee table.

"Oh, you read Murakami?" he asked as he looked at the cover. "I haven't read this one yet, is it any good?"

"It's my first, actually," you replied as you set the glass in front of him, sitting on the couch a respectable distance away. "I think he presents ideas of loneliness and intimacy in interesting ways. Does he always write the women as accessories to the male protagonists, though?"

"Haha… unfortunately, yes," Namjoon agreed, his dangerous dimples making another appearance as he smiled apologetically at you. "Do you read a lot?"

"I try, but not as much as I used to," you said with a sigh, letting your head fall back to rest on the back of your couch. "After work sometimes I'm too mentally exhausted to do anything but exist."

"But you still bring your floor's packages up?" Namjoon said in surprise, turning his wide chest towards you and giving you his full attention. You tried not to stare at the way his pecs strained against his plain white shirt, but between his body and his face there was nowhere safe for your gaze to land.

"It's not like it's that much extra effort," you said with a shrug. "Why wouldn't I when it's easy?"

"It wouldn't even cross most peoples' minds to do it," Namjoon replied, eyes locked on yours and making your cheeks feel warm. "You're a nice person, [y/n]."

"I-it's really not a big deal," you said feebly, your chest fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. You cast about your mind for a change in subject, because the way he was smiling at you was dangerous for your heart. "How did you fuck up those cookies so spectacularly, anyway?"

Your question worked to take that piercing gaze off of you, and Namjoon turned a pretty shade of pink as he looked down at his knees.

"I uh – I'm really not sure," he muttered in embarrassment, making you want to coo at how cute he was.

"Did you… follow a recipe?" you asked in consternation, watching his cheeks grow even redder.

"I… yeah, but…" he mumbled, eyes glancing around before settling on the glass of water. He grabbed it and took a large swig, and you did your best to ignore the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"But?" you urged, amusement lacing your voice as this once-asshole stammered and squirmed uncomfortably on your sofa.

"Why wouldn't more vanilla extract make it taste better?" Namjoon whined, making you put your hand over your mouth to hide a snort.

"Oh my god, you didn't," you giggled, his chagrined pout doing as much to endear him to you as the previous half our combined. "It also tasted like you switched salt for sugar."

"Dammit," he groaned, flopping backwards so he was oddly contorted on the couch, feet still on the ground but his hips twisted so his back was laying on your cushions. His knees knocked against yours and he shot back up with an apologetic look, but all you could do was laugh harder.

"My friend who gave me the recipe was just impressed I didn't burn anything down," he sighed, though he seemed relieved that you looked more amused than irritated.

"You… you really don't cook, do you?" you chortled, scooting a little closer so you could nudge his shoulder with yours.

"I'm your stereotypical bachelor," he replied with a sigh, draping an arm behind you, across the back of the couch. You felt your heart flutter again at the smooth combination of the physical action with the way he confirmed he was single.

"So no pretty ladies – or men – to teach you?" you teased, leaning further into his body. He met your eyes with his warm gaze, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"Nope," he murmured, arm slipping off the sofa to rest lightly atop your shoulders, so precarious that it was clear he was half-expecting you to shrug him off.

"I guess that means I should invite you to stay for dinner," you said with a smile, enjoying the ego boost when his eyes brightened.

"No pretty men – or ladies – who would be upset by that?" he hedged, those dastardly dimples making their reappearance as he leaned closer, gaze flickering to your lips. His arm slipped lower to hug your waist, and you let him pull you closer.

"Only one who would be upset if you refused," you murmured with a smirk, tangling your fingers in his shirt as you tugged him toward you.

His lips were warm against yours, even softer than they looked, and you let out a pleased sigh as you melted into his firm chest. A low groan rumbled from his throat, sending warm tingles shooting from your chest through your limbs, and you sucked his plump lower lip between your teeth.

"I really just thought you were a hot asshole," you said with a laugh, pulling away despite the heat beginning to settle in your core.

"I mean, I was definitely an asshole," he mumbled, cheeks pink as his gaze stayed glued to your lips. Then his eyes widened. "Uh, h-hot?"

You snorted at his surprise, giving him a very obvious once over. Namjoon's face flamed even redder, which was absolutely adorable.

"Have you seen yourself?" you teased, letting your hands rest on his shoulders.

"Nah, too busy looking at you," he replied quietly, and it was your turn to be flustered. How had he turned the tables like that so quickly?

"Ha ha," you said awkwardly, cursing yourself for your inability to formulate a coherent response. He was supposed to be the idiot, not you. At your response, those dimples made their reappearance, and you stood up to prevent yourself from melting into a gooey puddle.

"Anyway, I'm gonna start dinner."

You said it in a rush, in the hopes that Namjoon didn't realize how giddy he was making you.

"Oh! Let me help!"

He began to get up from the couch, and you promptly shoved him back down.

"For the love of god, please don't," you teased with a laugh, pressing a kiss on his nose to ease the sting of your words. "Just sit there and look pretty. Moral support."

Namjoon smiled back at you, eyes warm and affectionate, and you wondered if you would even be able to focus properly while this mancake was lounging on your couch.

"As you wish."

~~~~~

i luv him, your honor🥺

local lover boy

✧ kim mingyu x f! reader

✧ summary: after you've had a long week of work, mingyu decides to help you wind down for the night.

✧ wc is approx 5.1k

✧ genre: fluff, romance; comfort. i like to think i'm funny so humor as well. nudity; mdni

✧ warnings/notes: soft! gyu, pet names (you: good girl, my girl, my beautiful girl, baby, princess)(for him: lover boy, gyu, puppy). mentions of sex but no actual act. exhaustion, anxiety, stress mentions. mingyu is absolutely in love with you <3 banter between a couple, teasing. mingyu (nonsexually) kneels and kisses your feet. nonsexual nudity. hints of mingyu being a househusband. mentions of marriage.

✧ based off of the video of him wiping off his makeup on live.

✧ maybe a series??? just with little stories abt him loving and comforting reader

Mingyu watched as you trekked through the apartment door, exhaustion pouring off of you. Your hair was no longer neatly done, instead hanging around your face. You had attempted to cover your exhaustion with makeup, Mingyu having watched you put it on that morning, but now it did practically nothing. 

You leaned against the entrance wall, using your hands to shove off of your shoe. Mingyu quickly crossed the room to reach you, going to his knees before you had a chance to take off the remaining shoe. 

Your face immediately softened when you looked at him. He felt his heart swell at that look, the way your eyes seemed to pour out love. You smiled at him, weakly, reaching out and placing your hand in his hair. “Hello, Gyu.”

Mingyu reached up, grabbing your hand. He pressed his lips to your fingers, wondering if you could sense the devotion in the act. “Hello, baby. Long day?”

A large sigh left you. It seemed odd, how such a heavy, great weight could exist in you, whom he always associated with the good things in life; flowers and clear skies, rainy days and long car drives with your hand in his. 

He guided your hand to his shoulder, his other hand running along your calf. You didn’t protest anymore when he did this, not after months of living together and Mingyu greeting you by moving to his knees. Sometimes it turned into something more; sometimes you put your hand in his hair and combed it through, pulling on the strands and barring his golden neck for your teeth. 

Tonight was different. 

You put your weight against him, letting Mingyu cup your calf and raise it. Gently, as if he was holding the world and not your foot, he guided your shoe off. Mingyu then hooked his finger into the hidden sock, sliding it around your heel and off. “Other foot.”

When he had both socks bundled in his fist, he finally stood. Mingyu hated how crazy your life had gotten in the past few weeks, a combination of familial issues and workplace problems. You soldiered through it as you did all things, keeping your gentle smile and kind gaze. But still, he wasn’t oblivious. 

Mingyu settled his free hand against your jaw, cradling it. Your makeup was heavy, foundation attempting to cover nights of little sleep and stress. He still could see through it, could see the bags and darkness that hung beneath your eyes, and his heart wept. 

You didn’t deserve it. If it was up to Mingyu, you would have an easy life free of stress and anxiety. The bags beneath your eyes would be nonexistent, and you’d spend your days reading those romance smut novels you tried to hide from him by using your tablet to read them. There’d be a pool, of course, and Mingyu would be able to feast his eyes on the sight of your body basking in the sun. 

But that wasn’t the reality the two of you lived in. 

Instead the winter sky casted short shadows, the grass long-dead. You had no time for reading due to the hectic schedule life was putting you through, and there was no pool. 

Mingyu sighed, tilting your head up towards him. You moved to the tips of your toes, angling your face in an attempt to make the reach easier for him. 

He pressed one quick, sweet kiss on your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut. Mingyu smiled. He could see the dark circles beneath your eyes, the acne that had begun to appear due to your stress. You were slouching, shoulders bent from exhaustion. 

You were beautiful. 

Mingyu pressed a long kiss to your lips. The smacking sounds of his lips against yours was immensely satisfying, and he couldn’t help but continue to seek them out. His other hand, still balled up with your socks, wrapped around you and pressed your body close to his. His mouth began working against yours, slowly, devotely devouring your mouth. Mingyu pressed his tongue against your lips, running it along the seam. 

With a little gasp you pulled away. Your chest heaved against his, eyes wide and looking up at Mingyu with such wonder and innocence that he couldn’t help but lean down and capture your lips again. 

“Gyu --” You tried, his mouth silencing you. You didn’t fight too hard to talk, but every single time he pulled away to reangle himself, his name was on the tip of your tongue. Eventually you managed to pull away, your hands on his biceps, forcing him back. You were grinning, a little laugh escaping your lips as your eyes sparkled at him. “Let a gal get through the door before you attack her, won’t you?”

He tried not to dwell on the feeling of your hands settled against his biceps, the feeling of your palms on his bare skin. He absolutely refused to look at your hands, to see how small they looked settled on his arms. 

Your lips were dark from his, and you looked thoroughly loved. 

Mingyu pressed forward, trying to press another kiss to your mouth. You laughed, shaking your head, and Mingyu couldn’t help but use his strength to break from your hold and smack another kiss on your lips. 

“Kim Mingyu!” You laughed, slapping your hand over your mouth. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at him, and even with the dark circles beneath your eyes, the pimple on your forehead, you were beautiful. 

“Forgive me, please,” Mingyu said, voice low. He pouted in an attempt to garner sympathy from you, his hands reaching out to settle on your hips. “Just got carried away at seeing my beautiful girl is all.”

You rolled your eyes, the smile on your lips never wavering. 

He sighed, loudly and dramatically. Mingyu placed a chaste kiss on your temple, squeezing your arm. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you actually inside of the apartment.”

“Thank you.” You stepped in, leaving your shoes on the ground behind you. Mingyu took your work bag, ignoring your protests. 

He liked this. He liked being able to take care of you physically. You were a strong, independent person; you knew how to stand on your own two feet; how to draw admiration of those around you. 

So there was something special about this for Mingyu. There was something special in him kneeling before you, taking your shoes and socks off, putting your bag in your office for you. It was special for him to make you supper, to press kisses to your cheek whenever you went to bed. 

You were wiggling out of your blazer when he returned from putting your bag in your office. You hadn’t noticed him yet. Mingyu watched, silent, as you rolled your shoulders. You stretched out your arms, soft sighs escaping you. 

Mingyu kicked the wall as he pushed off of it, alerting you to his presence. He grimaced, a soft little curse escaping his lips, hunching over and grabbing at his foot. 

You were at his side in an instant, cooing. “Aw, Gyu! Did you hurt yourself again?”

“The wall moved,” he explained, pouting up at you from where he was hunched over. 

You nodded, pouting with him. You ran your hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “I’m sure it did, baby. Do you want me to kiss it better?”

Mingyu nodded. You got on your knees in front of him, joints popping. Your hands looked small even compared to his foot as you cradled his foot. “Stop getting my boyfriend hurt,” you admonished his foot, before you swooped down and pressed a kiss to the top of it. 

Mingyu felt as if his heart was lodged in his throat. “Uh. My leg hurts. I banged it against the wall too.”

Compliant, you pressed a kiss to his bare leg. 

“Here, too,” he said, tapping his right hand with his leg. “It got hurt when I tried to catch myself.”

You went to your feet, knees popping. Your hands reached out, palms up. Feeling somewhat like a princess, Mingyu set his hand in yours. Slowly, as if he was royalty, as if he was precious, you turned his hand. You bent over, and he could feel your warm breath against his palm before your lips pressed against it. 

“There,” you murmured, satisfied. 

Mingyu’s hand shot up to his cheek. “This hurts too.”

Finally you shot him a look, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief and mouth thinning. “I didn’t see you hit your head.”

“I didn’t hit my head,” Mingyu explained, “I hit my face.”

You looked at him for a second more before sighing. He tilted his face down, bending at his knees while you went to your tiptoes. You brushed your lips against the corner of his mouth before pulling away. “There. Are you satisfied, you gremlin?”

“Absolutely.” Mingyu stood back up to his full height. You rubbed at your cheek, eyes glazing over for a moment as your mind seemingly vacated for a moment. He reached out, grabbing your hand in his. “Hey. Why don’t we get your makeup off of you and get you settled for the night? You take a nap while I make supper, then we can sleep.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I have transcripts to look over for tomorrow.”

“So we go to sleep early and get up early!” Mingyu tugged you towards the bathroom, walking backwards. The hall was bare, so he just had to worry about bumping into walls. But then you settled your hands on his hips, feet brushing against his, guiding him down the hall and into the bathroom entrance. “I’ll make you an extra delicious breakfast in the morning to get you going.”

You blinked up at him, eyes serious. Then you let out a long sigh, shaking your head. You pitched forward, pressing yourself into his body. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Mingyu wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He hated this question, but it was something he asked himself often. When you turned to him, already smiling; when you laughed at his stupid jokes; when you reached out wordlessly, not even looking at him, lacing your fingers together. 

“You didn’t do anything,” Mingyu said, voice soft. He rested his cheek on the top of your head, letting his eyes fall shut. “You don’t have to do anything to deserve me, lovely. You don’t have to do anything, be anyone other than yourself.”

For a moment the two of you stood in that crowded hallway, arms around one another, soaking in the other’s presence. He counted each of your breaths until his matched, unable to keep himself from feeling satisfied at how in sync the two of you were. 

You turned your head, making him lift his up and off of you. You pressed a kiss to his shirt, right over his heart. “Okay then, lover boy. Take my makeup off for me.”

Mingyu pressed a kiss to your hairline. Holding you in one arm, he reached out and flicked on the bathroom light. “Hey. If we’re taking your makeup off, shouldn’t it be makedown.”

You were quiet behind him. He turned, catching sight of you out of the corner of his eye. Once you saw him looking at you a small, pitying, fake smile cracked over your face. “Oh! Ha! That’s funny, Gyu.”

Pleased at your lie, Mingyu grinned back at you. He guided you to lean against the counter. Mingyu placed his hands on your hips, and after a quiet countdown, he was lifting you onto the counter. 

You swung your feet, heels gently hitting the cabinets, as you watched him move around the bathroom. Mingyu grabbed your makeup remover wipes, the moisturizer, and serum. 

Then he was moving between your thighs, tilting your head up with one of his hands. He couldn’t help but brush his thumb over your cheek, your lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. 

“How beautiful,” he murmured, feeling something that could only be love flood through him. Mingyu bent forward, pressing a kiss to your nose. “My beautiful girl.”

“Gyu,” you began, softly protesting. 

“All right.” He removed one of the wipes from the package. With his other hand he held your chin, keeping your face still. “First we’ll wipe your eyes, get all that eyeshadow and eyeliner off.”

Tenderly, far more so than he ever was with his own eyes, Mingyu began wiping. He watched as your face relaxed in his grasp, trusting him completely. 

Was it ridiculous that even after nearly two years of being together, it still thrilled him that you trusted him so wholly? You trusted him with your entire heart, your body, your soul; just as he did you. 

He did a final swipe over both of your eyes, humming in approval once they came up clean. “Done with your eyes, pretty girl. Now let’s get a new cloth and start on your precious cheeks.”

Mingyu discarded the dirtied cloth into the trash can. The new one dirtied just as quick, your foundation rubbing off easily. “Ooh, look at that. Who’s that beneath all this foundation?”

You opened one of your eyes, watching him. Once one of your cheeks was completely bare from makeup, slightly irritated from his rubbing, Mingyu swooped down and pressed a kiss there. “It’s my lovely girl!”

Sighing and shaking your head, you smiled. “Whatever you say, lover boy.”

It was supposed to be a jest, Mingyu knew. Lover boy. You had said it a few months into dating, rolling your eyes as Mingyu pressed the “hundredth” kiss to your face before he left you on the front doorstep of you and your friends’ shared townhouse. “Settle down, lover boy. They can see you from the living room window.” 

Then he had gone home and looked it up. Romantic, loyal, flirty, devoted. 

And that was when Kim Mingyu decided that, before he was a son or brother or friend, he was your lover boy. 

It was a jest, calling him lover boy, but his heart still expanded in his chest and threatened to erupt in an explosion of light at the nickname. 

After another kiss to your cheek, because Mingyu never knew how to turn down kissing your cheeks, he began wiping at your other cheek. He repeated the same steps as before, including the narration. 

And still you rolled your eyes, though they were unable to hide how you looked at him with such fondness. 

He discarded that cloth. Mingyu grabbed another. “We’ll make sure to rub this really good over your chin and nose. Don’t want any blackheads or anything.”

“Of course,” you agreed. You angled your face up towards him, eyes sliding shut. 

Mingyu couldn’t help but grin as you waited. He ran his eyes over the shape of yours, over your lashes from where they rested against your cheek. The soft cushion of your mouth that he often spent far too much time staring at. The way your hair framed your face. 

Beautiful. 

He began working once more, rubbing the cloth over your chin. Mingyu took care to get the crevices of your nose, concentrating on that particular spot. 

Eventually you pulled away, frowning at him and wrinkling your nose. “Don’t you think it’s time to move on from my nose, Mingyu?”

“Just a moment,” Mingyu said, his other hand going to cradle the back of your head. He held you in place as he returned to wiping at the spot. “Not until there’s no dirt or makeup left.”

“You’re gonna be wiping until there’s no nose left at this rate,” you mumbled, brows furrowed. 

Mingyu pressed a kiss to the wrinkle between your brows, relenting his attack on your nose. “Fine. You win, princess.”

He didn’t miss the smile you tried to suppress, but he ignored it for your sake. If Mingyu acknowledged every cute thing you did, the two of you would never be able to move on. 

“Okay,” he breathed, looking over your bare face. He leaned over your thigh, reaching for the serum you used. Still leaning on your thighs, he opened up the drawer that held your cosmetics. He withdrew a cotton cloth, pouring some of the serum on it. “Time for serum!”

When Mingyu pulled back, reaching up to wipe at your face, you were already staring at him. Your eyes were bright and soft, curved sweetly in imitation of the smile that grew across your face. You were looking at him like you did a kitten or puppy, like he was something precious and sweet. 

Mingyu felt heat rush up to his cheeks, settling there. He whined, bowing his head and pressing his large body into yours. You laughed in his ear as he burrowed his face into your neck, arms wrapping around you and squeezing out of embarrassment. “What’s wrong, puppy?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Mingyu pouted, despite the fact his heart skipped happily whenever you looked at him with those exact eyes, that exact smile. He peered up at you, still pouting. “Makes me all embarrassed.”

You laughed, your hands coming up and cradling his cheek. “You? Kim Mingyu? Embarrassed? I’d never believe it.”

“Of course I get embarrassed,” Mingyu murmured. You began carding your hands through his hair, tugging at the ends of the strands. He let his eyes fall shut, arms loosening their hold. He let his hands lay on your hips, squeezing. “You’re so mean to me that whenever I catch you being nice it throws me off.”

Laughing, you grabbed his earlobe and pinched. Mingyu let out a yelp, pulling his face away from your neck. He didn’t go far, however; he never would if he could help it. Your gravitational pull was too strong, after all, constantly keeping him in orbit. 

“I’m not mean to you,” you argued, ignoring the fact that you just pinched him. Your hands settled on his shoulders, fingers drumming along the line of them. “Never been mean to you a day in our lives.”

Mingyu barked out a laugh. He released your hips, one of his hands resuming its prior place at the back of your head, holding it still. Mingyu then began swiping at your face with the serum, watching as it dampened your skin. “Sure. Like you never put your cold feet on me when we’re cuddling.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” you returned, eyes still shut. Mingyu pressed the cloth against the corner of your mouth, keeping you from speaking for a moment as he took care to reach the area around your mouth. When he left the spot, cloth traveling to your cheek, you continued. “It’s the boyfriend tax. Haven’t you heard of it?”

“‘The boyfriend tax,’” he quoted, feeling love pour from his every pore. You were so ridiculous. “What else is included in this boyfriend tax? Just so I can be prepared in the future.”

Humming, you opened your eyes just enough to peer up at him through your lashes. “Well. Taking off my makeup, of course.”

“Naturally.” “Keeping my feet warm; listening to my bad singing in the car. Doing the dishes.”

Mingyu couldn’t help but grin a little. He stopped wiping your face, finished with the serum. “Oh, so I make the food and I have to clean up after myself, too?”

You nodded. You released your grip on his shoulders when he went to throw away the cloth. Mingyu made his way back between your thighs, your knees squeezing at his hips. He settled one hand on your shoulder, reaching for the moisturizer lotion with the other. 

Both of your hands went to his waist. Mingyu could feel the heat of them through his thin muscle tank top. 

“I do the laundry so you have to do the dishes,” you explained, watching as he squeezed out a glob onto his hand. “God, could you use any more?”

“It’s the right size,” he argued, holding his palm out for inspection. “See?”

“Maybe to you.” You moved one of your hands from his waist. You compared your hand size to his. “See? The lotion looks huge compared to my hand.”

Mingyu furrowed his brow. He released you entirely, grabbing the bottle. “It says use a dime-sized portion.”

“That’s not dime sized,” you argued. 

Faintly, Mingyu wondered if you were arguing just for the sake of arguing. Sometimes he wondered if you were related to Choi Seungcheol. 

“Should I get a dime?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at you. “Should we see?”

You shook your head, hands settling back around his waist and guiding him between your thighs again. “Just make sure you use all of it if you’re going to use that much. Put the rest of it around my neck.”

“I always do, princess,” he promised. 

Mingyu rubbed his fingers together, spreading the lotion around them. He then, just as gently as he had with the remover and serum, just as the snow hits the ground, began pressing his fingers to your cheeks and rubbing the moisturizer.

“It’ll make you so shiny,” he murmured. Your eyes fluttered due to how close he was and how his breath hit your face. It was a good thing you were occupied, otherwise you’d probably make a comment about how his breath smelled. “You’ll look so fresh and youthful they’ll be thinking you’re a teenager. You’ll go into a store to get some wine and they’ll say sorry, miss, but we can’t sell that to you.”

You huffed out a laugh, lips curling. Mingyu stopped rubbing the lotion into your face, leaning down and pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. He immediately pulled away, face contorting. “Ew! You taste like product.”

You laughed out loud, eyes opening and crinkling. “Have you somehow been absent from the past ten minutes we’ve spent in the bathroom, Mingyu? You’ve been putting products on my face this entire time. Don’t know what you were thinking.”

Mingyu pouted, furrowing his brows. You sighed, rolling your eyes. Your hands went to his shirt, pulling the hem up. You then brought his shirt to your mouth, wiping at it with the fabric. One satisfied, you dropped it. “There. Try kissing me now.”

Delighted, Mingyu pressed his lips to yours. It still tasted like product, but he didn’t mind. Not when your mouth was so warm against his, your tongue swiping across his lips before retreating coyishly back into your mouth. 

“Satisfied?”

Mingyu hummed, pulling away. He pressed one more chaste kiss to the line of your mouth. “Very. How very clever of my girlfriend.”

You shook your head, still obviously endeared by him. Mingyu continued using up the moisturizer, feeling the lines and bumps of your face beneath his fingers. He made sure to get the space between your brows, the crease of your nose. He trailed his fingers along your jaw, dipping underneath and spreading the moisturizer to your neck. 

“My pretty girl,” he hummed. He pulled away from you, squatting at the cabinet directly beneath. You shifted, moving your legs out of the way so he could open it. 

Mingyu rummaged for a moment before finding what he was looking for. He sat back on his heels as he opened the package of under-eye patches, shifting through them. Mingyu glanced up at one point, immediately greeted by the sight of your spread legs. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath. Not today Kim Mingyu, not when you so desperately needed to sleep and relax. 

Mingyu placed the box back underneath the cabinet, slamming the door shut. He slowly peeled the plastic away from the gel, taking care so it wouldn’t curl up or ruin. Mingyu crowded close to you once more, pressing himself into your warm. 

Your hands automatically went to his waist, holding him. You angled your face up towards Mingyu, eyes shutting and allowing him to do as he pleased. 

He pressed each of the under-eye masks into place, taking care not to catch on any of your lashes. You let out a deep breath as each of them were put into place, the cool temperature from the gel sinking beneath your skin and settling. 

“Look at how beautiful my girl is,” Mingyu murmured, one of his hands cradling your cheek. You leaned into it, eyes opening and peering up at him. “Absolutely stunning.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re going to kiss me you don’t need all that preamble.”

Laughing, Mingyu took his cue. He brought his other hand up to cradle the other side of your face, his hand so large that the tips of his fingers sunk into your hair. You straightened yourself, reaching up into him, and Mingyu knew he was powerless against your gravity. 

The kiss was slow, your lips moving together softly. It was unhurried, a sweet kiss of love and adoration. 

“I love you,” you mumbled, your lips still close enough to his where he could feel the shape of the words. 

Mingyu pulled away, pressing one last kiss to your hairline. “I love you too, princess. Shall we get you changed now?”

At your nod, Mingyu was wedging his hands underneath your thighs and lifting you into his hold. You immediately relaxed into it, arms looping around his shoulders, legs locking behind him. As he walked out the bathroom you began pressing kisses to his throat and neck, one of your hands pulling at his tank top to reveal more of his golden skin. 

“You better be careful,” he warned, kicking the bedroom door the rest of the way open. “Never know what might happen if you keep tempting me like that.”

You laughed, pressing one last kiss to his shoulder. “Can’t a gal thank her boyfriend for taking such good care of her?”

“Nope,” he returned easily. Mingyu lowered you to the bed. “Not when a gal is the most tempting vixen in the world.”

The sound of your laughter, loud and bright, was enough to make a smile grow in Mingyu’s face. He turned from you, going to his closet. You often said that he had too many clothes, but Mingyu always returned that that was because his closet wasn’t just his, not when you were constantly reaching into it for clothes to wear as pajamas.

Mingyu returned to you with one of his t-shirts and shorts. Your hands went to your undershirt, beginning to take it off, but Mingyu reached out and slapped them away. “Hey! That’s my job!”

You were laughing again. Mingyu felt his heart grow in his chest, not just from the love and adoration and endearment he felt when with you, but from pride. You had walked into the apartment in such an obvious state of exhaustion and stress, looking as if someone had taken the Earth off of Atlas’s shoulders and placed it on your own. 

But now here you were, giggling and grinning. 

Because of him. 

Kim Mingyu loved you so much. 

He made quick work of disrobing your torso, setting aside your underthings to put away. Mingyu couldn’t help but smooth his eyes over your skin, taking in the line of your shoulders, the way your breasts hung. 

“Kim Mingyu!” You scolded, leaning back on your hands. “You dirty dog.”

He shrugged. “Can’t help it, baby. You know what you look like.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

What Mingyu wanted to say: the love of my life, my reason for waking; the moon to my ocean; my soulmate; my future wife.

Instead he chuckled, opening the shirt. You ducked your head inside of the hole, helping Mingyu clothe you. “What did I say earlier? That you’re a vixen?”

When he picked up the shorts, you threw a pout at him. You kicked your legs against the bed. “Don’t want to wear pants.”

Mingyu threw a look at you. He sank to his knees in front of you, gently tugging at your pants. “You have to. You know what will happen if you don’t.”

He, valiantly, ignored the wolfish grin you threw at him. Instead Mingyu tugged at your pants again. You relented, lifting your hips off of the bed and laying back so he could tug them all the way off. 

“What about underwear?” You asked, your fingers hooking on the band. “Do I have to wear any?”

Mingyu took a deep breath, trying to ignore the blood that was quickly leaving his brain. “You know exactly what the answer is.”

You sighed, tugging your underwear off nonetheless. “Go and grab me some new ones then, lover boy, if you’re still devoted to dressing me.”

Mingyu stood, leaving his shorts on your thighs. He crossed the room for your closet, knowing exactly where your underwear was. Mingyu was the one, after all, who ended up putting away the laundry on most days. Just because you started the washer and switched the wet clothes into the dryer didn’t mean you actually put the clothes away. 

When he turned around, a pair of your underwear hanging from his fingertips, you had lifted his shirt up to your face. You were still laying back on the bed, the action revealing all of your stomach and the bottoms of your breasts. Mingyu watched, thoroughly awe-struck, as you took a deep breath, still holding his shirt to your face. 

“Are you smelling my shirt?” He asked, feeling his voice rise and all blood immediately flow to his dick. 

You startled, yanking his shirt back down. You threw him a grin, obviously embarrassed at getting caught. “Maybe?”

Fuck. 

Mingyu took another deep, shuddering breath, shutting his eyes. Nearly two years together, even living together, and you were still smelling his clothes like a lovesick teenager. 

Just like he did. 

He was going to marry you, Mingyu decided. It had always been at the back of his mind, of course; how could it not be? You were beautiful and funny and kind, and you were a perfect example of how good and kind the world could be. 

But now it was a vow, an oath. Mingyu would marry you, no matter what. 

He returned to his crouching position in front of you, one of his hands going to cradle your feet. Mingyu leaned forward, ignoring the way your toes curled against his palm in anticipation, pressing a kiss to your calf. 

“Gyu,” you whispered, watching. 

Mingyu trailed his lips up your leg, pressing kiss after kiss to your skin. You were silent, letting him worship you. 

“I love you,” Mingyu murmured, not wanting to break the spell that had settled over the two of you. 

Once you were dressed in his clothes, the fabric absolutely swamping you, you pressed yourself into his arms. You brought your hands up to his neck, rising to the tips of your toes. Mingyu obliged willingly, meeting you halfway. 

You paused just before your lips met his. “I love you, Kim Mingyu. Thank you.”

And then you kissed him.