Mermaids Part Two

Mermaids Part Two

Frankie Morales x Fem! Reader

Part One

Summary: After your first meeting, Frankie brings Lili to the fall festival to see you. What he doesn't expect is some of his secrets to be exposed.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (Fluff for this chapter and pining but we aren't getting spicy until the next one)

Content: Pining, mermaids, over protective Frankie, girl dad! Frankie, drinking, mentions of drug use, Benny!!!, Pope!!!, swimming, these two idiots in like with each other stripping

A/N: We're baaaack! Thank you for the love I received on part one and thanks again to @heythere-mel for being my beta reader and hyping me up!!

“No food in the tank.” 

“What’s the matter with my son trying to feed the fish? Cotton candy dissolves anyway.” A dad let out a gravely chuckle at his own little fish food joke, even though you’re not a fish. You are a mermaid, a fake mermaid. 

You were leaning on top of the tank, rolling your eyes at the sad attempt at a joke as your tank handler tried to ward off pieces of spun sugar being thrown up to the performers. 

You expected nothing less from the fall festival; you had already been there for a few hours and had an alright shift; some families were friendly, some families were rude and then here was the family of the evening, a young boy and his son throwing candy into the tank trying to get you to eat soggy food. 

What a night. You were almost ready to get off and go home already. Almost, because you were waiting for two very special guests to show up and make your night much better. Frankie and his adorable daughter Liliana were supposed to come and see you and based on the texts Frankie had sent, it seemed like they were still coming at some point but where were they?

“Sweetheart, you like cotton candy don’t you?” You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the gravel voiced man make more jokes at your expense. Unfortunately, you’re still at work and not only can you not talk but you can’t give him a piece of your mind. So you give him your stiffest smile and shake your head in disagreement. 

“Please, you lay in a tank all day and do dolphin tricks the least you can do is let my kid have some fun.” 

“Sir, you cannot throw food into the tank and if we have to ask you and your child again, you’ll have to leave.” Your handler says. 

“Is there a problem here?” You hear a familiar voice and before you can even see him, you feel your insides light up. 

There was Frankie, hair mussed in his cap striding over in his worn out jeans with Lili on his hip. He looked over at you and gave you a wink as your stiff smile came unglued for him and Lili.

Lili called out your name and wriggled out of Frankie’s arms to run towards the tank. She tugged onto the sleeve of another man that was with them, a broad, tall blonde with movie star good looks and a black MMA shirt on that stressed his muscles in all the right places. 

“Uncle Benny, I told you my friend was a mermaid!!!” Lili beamed at you as you waved back to her. They were truly a sight for sore eyes. Benny eyed you from your fin to your face and it made you feel slightly exposed, but not in the same way that Frankie had made you feel. He gave you a cheeky wink and wave. 

“Benjamin Miller.” He grinned at you, you could’ve sworn you saw in your peripheral Frankie’s eyes roll back. “What seems to be the problem here?” 

“I think the both of you should mind your business here and let my kid feed your friend.” The dad interjected. 

“I wanna feed the mermaid cotton candy!” The kid whined. 

“Mermaids can’t eat cotton candy, silly. Besides it’s not nice to waste food!” Lili interjected. You tried to hide your grin. 

“Liliana, be nice.” Frankie said in a low, stern voice. He walked up towards the dad, “Come on, man. Show’s over. He asked you to stop.” 

“I’ll do what I damn well please and so can my kid. If he wants to put candy in the tank, he can put candy in the tank. Hell, if I wanna pay her to take her top off she better— “

“Seriously?!” You yelled out, unable to keep character any longer. 

Now Benny, Frankie and your handler all cornered this man. “I think you need to leave before you have problems with all three of us.” Frankie lowered his voice. The man stared at Frankie for a moment, eyeing him with an uncomfortable familiarity. 

“Aren’t you in my NA meetings?” He sneered. Benny went to grab Lili, picking her up and covering her ears at the perfect moment. “What’s the matter? Too much coke in your system?” 

“You need to leave before we call the police.” You interjected. The man took his son, chuckling to himself as he walked away. All of you stood there frozen for a moment. An uncomfortable, faraway look on Frankie’s face. Benny looked down at the ground while he still had Lili in his arms. You felt your pulse quicken — that man you had just dealt with was disgusting, but he also knew Frankie from Narcotics Anonymous? What was the story there? Was it even your right to know? 

If there was ever a moment that Frankie wished that the ground would swallow him whole, it was then. He was coming to see you, hoping to be in good spirits for you and Lili and out of nowhere you get ahold of his dirty laundry. Would you even want to associate with him still hearing cocaine thrown around? 

“Listen… I think you’ve clearly had enough for one night. If you wanna take the rest of the night off, you’ve earned it.” Your handler said. You thanked him, looking towards your three guests. 

“I’m so sorry about all of that.” 

“I’m just sorry we were late and we couldn’t help with him sooner.” Frankie said to you, his eyes not meeting yours. There’s another uncomfortable silence. 

“Listen… since I’m done for the night, how about we all do some games together? Lili, do you like funnel cake?” You asked. She animatedly wriggled in Benny’s arms, bounding at the idea of free sugar. You told them you’d meet them once you were done getting dressed as your mind kept replaying what had just happened. 

——————————————

When you had come out to meet Frankie, Benny and Lili, the atmosphere was less awkward has you had gone through the night. You got to learn more about Benny; he was an old army friend of Frankie’s and called him by a strange nickname - Fish or Catfish. Benny was especially friendly, walking next to you and taking it upon himself to hold your bags. He cracked a lot of jokes and loved talking about his career as an MMA fighter, occasionally breaking up the walking the group had done to show off some punches, he even won you a stuffed animal.

You weren't exactly gullible; you knew Benny's angle and how he was desperately trying to flirt. And he seemed like a great guy, but considering he had a wandering eye for anyone in a 5-mile radius you knew that he just wasn't your type. He was clearly too much of a playboy and you wanted someone more grounded, more serious, more reserved, more—

"Fish!!" You heard Benny call out. "I think this little one deserves a funnel cake already!" He nudged towards an ecstatic Lili.

When you ate your funnel cakes, the four of you took a moment to relax after walking through the festival. The boys set the stuffed animals down on a bench while you and Lili ate your funnel cakes and watch the Music Express go by. Frankie watched you gently handling Lili, making her giggle and matching her animated conversation. He looked over towards Benny and saw him looking at you like a predator stalking his prey. He felt his insides melt into a molten hot goo.

“Lili loves her, man. That’s impressive.” Benny said, organizing Lili’s new stuffed animals he won for her.

“She hasn’t stopped talking about her since we met her.” Frankie chuckled, he playfully rolled his eyes but in the back of his mind he thought about how he loved the way Lili talked about you, you were a much welcomed addition into their lives.

"Sounds like little Lili's got a great eye for her new Aunt, doesn't she?" Benny winked, the girls turned back to look at them as he gave you a wave and a wink. You saw Frankie's face still as a statue and you gave a small wave back.

“No way, man.” Frankie said. “She’s a grad student. She’s got this whole mermaid thing going on, she’s way too busy to fuck with a pendejo like you.” 

Benny looked at Frankie with an appraising look on his face. A sly smirk that rivaled the Cheshire Cat crept on his face as Frankie saw his shit-eating grin from the corner of his eye. 

“What?” He asked tersely. 

“Fish, if I knew you were into her I would’ve just backed off!” Benny chuckled. Frankie fully turned over to Benny. 

“Just because I’m looking out for her doesn’t mean I like her, I just don’t want her getting her heart broken since I have never seen you date the same girl past two weeks.”

Benny held up his hands in mock defense. “Alright, alright. But for the record, I think your girl can hold her own. Totally didn't sink to my bait."

"She's a woman, not a fish." Frankie rolled his eyes, Benny could be such a kid. You needed an actual man in your life.

“That’s right, you’re the fish.” He chuckled to himself. “I’m just saying, whenever I tried to lay it on her she clearly had her eyes on someone else." Benny gave Frankie a knowing look, Frankie's curiosity getting the better of him. He looked over at you and Lili, you being ever so patient at her steamroll of questions. You were so patient, so composed to any chaos going on around you. He didn't want to add any more chaos into your life.

"I mean, hell, I could be wrong." Benny started. "But that doesn't mean I still won't try to help my boy out. Hey!" He called out. "Who wants to play Lili the Leapfrog?"

Lili hopped up and down, nearly dropping her funnel cake. "Me!! Me!! Me!!"

Benny ran over to Lili, turning back to give him a wink as you headed over to sit next to him on the bench.

"Sorry if I overdid it on the sugar rush." You chuckled. "I got her the cake but I'm sure you're gonna be paying for it."

"Sugar rush now equals sleepy Lili later." He smiled back, you admired his side dimple.

"Thank you for earlier. Seriously, some of these people can be such assholes and it's just so much to deal with sometimes."

“I’m just glad he can’t bother you anymore.” Frankie said. There was a moment of silence as he hesitated. “Listen, about what that guy said— “

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Frankie. That guy was a dick.” You assured him. 

“Yeah, but I still think you have a right to know. I don’t want you to think you’re hanging out with a total slime ball.” Frankie inhaled deeply before letting it all out. 

“When I got out, I just had a hard time adjusting. Shit just felt so different and out my control and I didn’t know how to handle it. So I went to…” Frankie doesn’t say it, he can’t say it. It’s like he’s compartmentalized that part of his life to his meetings so he can move forward and not look back. 

“And then me and Benny and a few of our army buddies went on a mission that went south. Really fucking bad.” He had a faraway look in his eyes, mournful and dejected. 

“It was just hard to adjust to the changes that happened once I came back. Liliana had just been born, me and her mom weren’t on the best ground, anyway. So I turned to something I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t there for Lili like I could’ve been. I lost my license. What got me out of rock bottom is when Lili’s mom and I split and she said if I didn’t clean up my act, I couldn’t be a part of her life.“

Frankie turns to watch Lili and Benny still passionately in their game of leapfrog. He had such a stillness and such gravitas in that look. "That was it for me. There was no way I would not be a part of that little girl's life."

"Of course. She's a special girl." You agreed.

"Anyway, it didn't take me long to reach out to people around me for help. I started going to meetings, Benny and the rest of our buddies really held me accountable. Now I'm 3 years sober, flying again and I have that wild child over there.”

You put your hand on Frankie's shoulder, trying to ignore the electricity that surged through your fingers. "I'm so proud of you. You shouldn't be ashamed at all about what some random asshole said. Hell, he’s in recovery too so why should he try to knock you down?" 

“Honestly? Sometimes I just feel like a hypocrite or something. I try to teach Lili to be good and stop people like that but I’m still getting my shit together.” 

"Everyone is getting shit together. You’re talking to a girl who plays in swim tanks for a living. What you did to save your relationship with Lili is so admirable. I could tell from the moment we met that little girl adored you. You’re not a hypocrite for wanting to be better.” 

Frankie realized several things in that moment; that you were absolutely right, and he had nothing to be ashamed of, that he wanted to take your small hand and fit it in his, rubbing the softness of his palm until his pulse steadied, and that Benny Miller was too god damn right sometimes. Sure, he could be a little shit, but the man can read people like a book and Frankie’s pages were wide open on his feelings towards you. 

Frankie offered to drive you home after another hour at the fair, dropping Benny off first who stopped trying to give you his Casanova act. You wondered if Frankie had said something, not that you would be upset. But if he did say something, was he trying to protect you as a friend? You looked over at him from the passenger seat from his truck, who was this man? This stoic family man whose entire world revolved around his daughter and his friends. That’s the person you need in your life and you’re so glad he stumbled into yours. 

He pulled up to your house as you gathered your things. 

“Thanks for the ride, Fish.” You grinned at him. 

“Oh god.” He groaned. “You do not have to call me that.”  

“How’d you get that nickname, anyway?” You bit your lip, Frankie admiring how lush the bottom one was. 

“That’s another story for another day.” Frankie sighed, giving you a lopsided grin that made your stomach somersault. 

“Another day soon?” You asked. 

Frankie couldn’t hide his excitement even if he tried. “Of course. If you’re free this week a few of my buddies and I are going to Magic Dog Brewery. I promise, these won’t hit on you, too.”

“Ah, so I have a chance with Benny. I couldn’t tell, he was so shy and subtle.” You winked at him, feeling your excitement when he rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you then?"

Damn Benny for hitting on her, damn Benny for being so right about how he felt. “See you then.”

Frankie was a man of his word which was another thing that attracted him to you. For the next two weeks if you weren’t studying or working you were talking to Frankie or getting ready to see Frankie.

Your friendship developed fast and Lili loved having you around. They’d come visit you at the park and afterwards you’d spend time together on the rides as Lili asked about your day. Frankie would send you videos from his flight lessons, leaving you awestruck with the views he got to see almost every day. He let you pick his brain over flying questions and he asked about your studies. At night you’d meet at the bar and you got to know the boys that rounded out Benny and Frankie’s group. 

There was Will, Benny’s older brother who was called Ironhead. He was stoic and serious to Benny’s relaxed attitude. And then there was Santiago, nicknamed Pope. Frankie’s best friend and not bad on the eyes either. When you met Santi, you got to see Frankie at his absolute most authentic self, laughing and carrying on in Spanglish and telling old stories. They all welcomed you with open arms and Frankie loved how you got on with the guys, whenever you’d have a sharp retort to their jokes he’d grin at you in awe, meeting your eyes at the moment. 

That was happening a lot. The two of you stealing private glances, your eyes meeting and sharing a private smile or a laugh. Frankie made you feel so comfortable in such a short time, your conversations flowing easily and when there was silence in the truck on the drives home it felt comfortable and open. You didn't need to fill the silence, you just needed his company.

One night you had found yourself back at the bar with Frankie and Pope. Liliana was with her mom so it was a rare night that Frankie could go out and he was practically vibrating with excitement. Besides Lili, these were his two favorite people and he could have an adult night out. 

You’d had a not so great shift, a rude mom yelling at you and your co-workers for not being allowed to use flash photography and making everyone pay for it. So you were ready to let loose and have some fun. You’d taken shot after shot and you were feeling loose, good. You were in good company with two great guys. 

Suddenly, Pope had suggested that the three of you grab something to eat and you offered to cook something at your place. Frankie eyed you, seeing the blurred vision in your eyes and hearing your slur. 

“You sure? We can just stop at McDonalds and call it a night.” Frankie said, he felt an air of protection over you, wanting to make sure you were getting home safe and not surrounded by any of these guys who kept eyeing you. Not just because he didn't like that they were looking at you, he wanted to make sure you were okay and didn't end up with a slime ball.

“Okay, fiiiiiine.” You pouted. Frankie audibly sighed, frustrated at himself that he could find you so damn cute doing anything.

Pope had decided he would get the food while Frankie drove you home. You were feeling so comfortable and relaxed. This is exactly the night you needed, with the man you needed. No, no. You tried to fight your drunk thoughts, not giving in to the temptation of the man sitting next to you in his truck. But damn, was he good looking. 

He had his baseball cap on of course to cover up his messy curls, his strong nose illuminating through the streetlights. His large hand on the armrest, tapping along to the music. You wanted so desperately to know how his hand felt around your waist, how his calloused skin would feel against your back, against your curves. 

“You good?” Frankie eyed you, not that he complained that you were staring at him. 

“Yeah, just trying to figure out what to do once we get to the house. I figure Pope might take a while. Wanna go swimming?” You blurted out. Frankie froze, saying he would love to he just didn’t have a swimsuit. 

“That’s what underwear is for, silly. You still have to see my pool, anyway.” Who was this girl and how were you so bold? Frankie was so nice for going along with it. He could tell you were drunk, you were sure of it. And he was just being your sweet friend that he usually was.

When you got to the house, you jumped out of Frankie’s truck before it was fully parked for even a minute. You opened the door to see the lights were off so your roommate was asleep. You waited until Frankie parked and grabbed his hand when he had arrived at the door. The both of you looked at each other briefly, feeling that same electricity at each other’s touch. His hand was big and calloused just like you had imagined. You pulled him towards the back of the house to the swimming pool. 

Frankie stood admiring your backyard for a moment, loving the tranquil feeling that your home made him feel. It was almost like a reflection of how you made him feel. He saw a hammock in the backyard's corner, fantasizing about laying on it with you leaning into him, reading him your studies as the two of you learned together.

You stripped your clothes off, peeling off your layers until you were left in your pink laced bra and thong that exposed your ass. You had completely forgotten what underwear you had on, but you also hadn't expected to go swimming spontaneously. Frankie turned and saw you change. He was trying to be respectful and not look at the way your hips hugged your underwear and the curve of your ass but this definitely wasn't helping his fantasy of imagining how you felt under him.

He took his shirt off, revealing his broad, tanned shoulders and soft stomach to you. This didn’t help any of your liquor induced urges. He removed his hat, carding through his dark curls that you wanted to run your own fingers through, envious of his own hands for being able to touch them. Frankie may have been out of the army for a while but you could definitely see he'd taken care of himself.

He took his jeans off, and the liquid courage was wearing off. You realized you were very half naked in front of your very attractive friend and you were truly alone for the first time since you’d met. 

“You chickening out on me?” Frankie joked as he read the reluctance on your face. You looked at him, eyebrow raised as you opened your palm for his. He cupped his fingers into yours as you moved towards the edge of the pool.  

“On three, Morales.” One… two… three…

Chlorine surrounded your senses as you felt the calm of the water. This was exactly what you had needed. You steadily moved through the pool at a leisurely pace as Frankie swam towards you in awe, his smile illuminating through the pool lights. 

“Drunk and still able to swim so well, impressive.”

“Reminder that I was a champion swimmer so I could out swim you in my sleep.” You grin at him. 

“Oh, is that so?” He gave you a devilish grin. Swimming towards you and playful dunking you underwater, you came back to surface and splashed at him, jumping on his back and laughing. He grabbed you off of him and you suddenly found yourselves extremely close, both of you still and silent with his hands at your waist. You wondered if he felt the same electric current that you did, you were burning so badly you almost wondered if he could feel your excitement.

You felt his hands slide further around your waist as you moved your legs to wrap around his large back.. You fingered through his curly hair so casually as if this wasn't the first time. It all felt so natural. Frankie gazed into your eyes. He’d never looked at you with such heat before. 

You could feel the energy between you shifting. He moved closer towards you, your eyes drifting to close as you felt his warm breath meet yours. 

And then… a bright fluorescent light shone throughout the backyard. You both quickly turn to see two figures standing near the sliding doors. 

“Hey!!” You hear Santi’s familiar voice and the moment is gone, snatched away so quickly. “No lo puedo creer! I get ditched so you can play Aquaman?”

Frankie was already so far away from you, you weren’t sure how he could move so quickly. Not close enough to reach your arms out to him so his large arms could hold you and you felt incredibly bare. Taylor, your roommate, came around the corner in her robe. One of your closest friends, Taylor knew about Frankie but I don't think she expected this to be the way she had met him. As curious as she had been about him, her eyes were currently attentive to Santiago.

“Luckily, cariño, your very lovely friend over here helped me out. She let me in and gave me the sweetest cup of coffee I think I’ve ever had.” Santi grinned at Taylor as she giggled, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers like a schoolgirl. Taylor was the one to break hearts so this was a shock.

“Come in, dry off and have some coffee! Santiago brought McDonalds!” Taylor called out. You and Frankie looked at each other from across the pool. Frankie swam over to the edge, muttering under his breath about tiempo de mierda. You had no choice now but to get out and enjoy your friends as if nothing had just happened. 

That night you, Frankie, Santi and Taylor stayed up chatting about anything and everything. It was the same feeling of comfort you had always felt around Frankie, loving the dynamic of this group. You looked at Taylor and Santi flirting shamelessly, happy that your best friend and Frankie's best friend got along. You met eyes with Frankie and he gave you an identical smile. Damn, you. wish you hadn't been interrupted in the pool.

At some point you peered out the window and realized that the sun was coming up. The boys had decided it was time to make their way to their respective homes as you said your goodbyes. Santi greeted you first to make sure he could give Taylor an all-encompassing hug, placing his hand on her cheek, stroking it as if he was going off to war and not just to his own bed.

“I’ll call you? I’ll take you out somewhere nice this week, cariño.” He looked at her with his molten dark eyes, turning on a certain charm that clearly worked on Taylor as all she could do was give a small nod and giggle as he kissed her hand.

You and Frankie looked at the two of them in awe and then at each other, you let out a nervous laugh and you weren’t sure why. Nothing about spending time with Frankie was awkward, but it felt like the night’s events were catching up to you. You felt incredibly brazen for touching him and stripping down to your underwear in front of him. You could feel the heat creep up on the back of your neck. 

“Did you have fun?” You asked in a small voice. 

“I always have fun with you.” Frankie grinned, looking down at you and taking your small hand into his. It was so rough and calloused, you couldn’t help but remember how they felt along your sides, your legs around his huge back. Snap out of it you could hear your inner voice. 

“Lili is going to be back tomorrow night. I know you’re usually off on Friday nights. How about you come over for dinner and a movie?” You bit your lip and nodded at Frankie’s question, of course he already knew your schedule. What couldn’t this man take from you? 

He engulfed you in a hug and you could smell the chlorine mixed with his natural scent. You inhaled a little longer to take it in. 

Frankie left your house with you and Taylor watching and leaning on your front door. He waved towards you both as Taylor smiled to him, talking to you through gritted teeth. 

“One down, one to go.” She grinned. 

“Excuse me?!” You balked. 

“He needs to hurry up and ask you out already. Who knows? Maybe we could double date.” 

You scoffed at Taylor’s suggestion but felt the heat rise on the back of your neck. It was impossible to spend this time with Frankie and not continue to fall head over heels for him. You respected that he clearly hadn’t asked you out yet for a reason, probably to focus on Lili and his sobriety, but is a crush on your friend that bad? Your tall, sexy, stoic, brilliant friend? 

"Tay?"

"Yeah?"

"I am so fucked."

˗ˋˏ YUCK! ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only (Part Two)

synopsis: how can you remain friends with benefits with someone who turns his plushies around during sex, pouts when you don't kiss him goodbye, and spends his time occupying your mind when all you want is for him to leave you alone?

pairing: lsm x yn (gn afab)

genre: fluff, humor, romance | pwp, smut

tags: alcohol/food - reader also briefly blacks out, costume party, cursing, domesticity, fwb, sexual innuendos, showering together, yn un-alives a spider, university au | cowgirl, cunnilingus, dirty talk, fingering, handjob, hickies, love making, pet names, pnv, praise

wc: 11.5k

a/n: hi this is part 2/2 of yuck! thank you all so much for waiting. I honestly had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have fun reading. lmk if I missed any tags in part one or two. comments and reblogs are super appreciated!! pls pee after sex so you don't get an uti ♡ -nu

yuck! - part one

lipglossjun's masterlist

He came to your door unannounced, knocking loudly on your front door and causing you to jump in your seat. Three sharp knocks against the door using his middle knuckles and then a few friendly taps because he realizes he's standing in front of your door and not his resident’s door. The sound echoes loudly inside your lonely apartment but isn’t loud enough to alarm your neighbors because he purposely leans his side against the door to diffuse the sound and vibrations. You can’t blame him for his habit - he’s used to knocking on so many doors in one night that the freezer part of his mini fridge is stocked with frozen sponges in plastic baggies so he can ice his swollen knuckles at night. You don’t even have to look through your peeping hole to know it’s him, but it’s weird because you know he should be on-call today. Still, the knocks are enough to scare you into thinking you’re still dorming in the universities.

He tells you he has an employee banquet a few days before the break and was worried that his makeup might smudge on his suit. He also brought your go-to drink order from the tea shop across campus, punching in your specific add-ons and adjustments into the kiosk before even deciding what new seasonal drink he wanted to try. You had no choice but to begrudgingly take your drink from him while you shuffled to the side of your door so he could come into your apartment.

"I thought you already knew how to do this.”

You see him hold up your hand mirror to his neck to look at the small bruise you left on the side of his neck a few nights ago. He sits cross-legged on your apartment living room carpeted floor while you sit on the ottoman next to him.

“Only for an everyday base routine for my face,” he frowns while softly poking his bruise. “But my neck makeup keeps smudging and I don’t know how to stop it from getting on my clothes,” he admits while he lowers the neckline of his t-shirt, thinking about the stains he left on his shirt collars.

You uncap the bottle you’re holding and spray the cool setting spray on his bruise. He fans the wet product with his hand while you dig through his toiletry bag for his color-correcting palette. You dip his tiny makeup brush into the palette and bring the product-coated brush to paint over his bruise.

“If you want me to stop marking you, you can just tell me,” you suggest to him while brushing another thin layer. You tap your pointer finger lightly around the harsh edges, blending the colors into his skin. An intrusive thought tells you to poke your finger deep into his skin, but you decide not to.

He ooo’s at how you’re blending the product, angling the mirror so he can better see how you’re working.  

“But I like them,” he says while you spritz another light layer of setting spray. “They remind me of you,” he softly confesses while you blow on his skin. He finds himself angling the mirror again so that the mirror now focuses on your face.

He giggles at the tingling sensation of your warm breath against the cold product, and he smiles to himself when he sees your concentrated expression through the reflection in the mirror – how you purse your lips and how your eyebrows furrow together. If he weren’t an RA, he would proudly wear his love bites as a badge for everybody around him to see. He wants people to tease him whenever they see the bruise poking out of his hoodie when his hood is down. It’s not to let people know he’s getting it on. That’s just not who he is.

But there is that part of him that wants others to know you’re his. He’s tired of soft launching you on his Instagram. That’s what people do when they want others to know they’re talking to somebody. But you’re just his friend. He’s completely fine with showing you off, but he respects your privacy, knowing how much you hate having your picture taken. It’s also not like his closest friends don’t know about his relationship with you, but if it makes you happy, he’ll take it. He likes what the two of you have. And after all, he doesn't care about the pictures. It’s the person whose plate is almost always pictured across from his, the hand holding the ice cream cone, the second shadow under the street light who he cares for.

The bruises feel sore, but he loves how you automatically coddle him afterward, especially after a heated session. You always have that worried look on your face, your lips pouty and frowny. He remembers the number of ridges between your brows when you ask him how he’s feeling. He always tells you that he feels fine, great even, but you always sigh with a defeated look on your face. You’ll walk to the fridge in nothing but one of his old t-shirts and grab him a cold metal spoon. He doesn’t know if the cold spoon hack works, but he lets you do it anyway. He’ll let you do anything if it means he gets to spend more time with you no matter how prickly you may seem on the outside.

Now, he’s spending more time with you on a lazy Tuesday night. He’s done for the day and doesn’t have any RA duties at night because the university recently handed on-call duties for the campus security to handle. On the other hand, you didn’t have anything scheduled for today and spent the entire day indoors. You’re still in your pajamas – a free shirt from a past school event and old running shorts that you never wore while exercising. There are leftover food delivery containers in your fridge from dinner. You tell him the importance of investing in a tinted sunscreen while pushing up your wired glasses. It’s ironic because he knows you haven’t washed your face today or applied any form of sun protection at all. The closer you lean into him to be sure he understands, the redder his cheeks flush. He hopes his mineral powder is enough to diffuse the blush or at least make it seem like it’s the redness from his acne.

Feeling a little hot, he reaches over to grab his fruit slushie-turned-juice from the coffee table and brings it to his lips. He sucks the concoction through the metal straw, letting the cool liquid settle in his mouth so he can savor it before swallowing. You notice the condensation dripping down his arms before he does, and you wipe it away with the edge of your t-shirt without any thought. Your drink is already long gone, finished within minutes after poking your straw through the flimsy plastic lid, washed and disposed of in your recycling bin. He wonders if the taste of his drink would linger on your tongue if he kisses you. And he wonders how the tangy sourness of his drink would contrast or balance the extra amount of sweetness in your tea.

But you’re done concealing the bruise, already sealed it off with the last layer of setting spray. Satisfied with your job, you plop yourself on the other side of the couch and grab the book you put face-down on the table when DK arrived at your front door. You tuck your legs under you and use the armrest as your elbow support as you resume your novel. DK types the makeup steps into his notes app and quickly cleans up his products, looking for something to do.

DK snakes his head between the open gap between your stomach and your book, putting his head on your chest. You pay him no mind, flipping another page while he thinks of a conversation starter. He relaxes into the feeling of your chest rising and dropping and the steady thumping of your heartbeat pulsing under his ear. He asks you what your novel is about while twiddling with the hem of your shirt, noticing it’s still a bit damp from before.

“Smut,” you nonchalantly answer him. You didn’t know much about the novel, but you borrowed it from your friend who kept raving about it while you visited her the other day. She claimed it was better than sex, but honestly, all you’ve been reading so far are overly detailed descriptions of scenery while the main character stares out of the parked car window.

“But you have me,” he teases you. He lets go of your shirt to poke you on your cheek between each word, “You. Have. Me.”

You swat his hand away from your face and subsequently decide to place your novel on his head to use as a stand. He huffs underneath the book, and you snicker at him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. You think it’s cute whenever he’s being annoying, throwing tiny tantrums whenever he doesn’t have enough attention. You catch yourself lingering on the thought of what his neediness would be like if the two of you were together.

“I’m too lazy,” you flip another page after letting the thought dissipate. “You’re on your own unless you can find another way to do it.”

He huffs and lifts the novel from his forehead to sit up. He turns to you and untucks your legs from beneath you.

“Continue reading your book. Let me eat you out while you rest,” he tells you while pulling your legs with ease so only your upper back and head is leaning against the couch’s armrest. He rests your legs on each side of him.

“Go ahead, but wouldn’t that be a little boring for you?” you ask him while your eyes are still trained on your novel. Even though you spend a lot of time thinking about him manhandling you, his persona easily makes you forget about just how strong he is.

He grabs a cushion from the middle of the couch and tucks it behind your neck. He asks you if you’re comfortable. You give him a thumbs-up, and he gently pecks your thumb before moving your hand back to your book so you can properly hold your book. His little touches and kisses aren’t new to you, but you think it’d be a shame if his kiss transferred onto your pages instead of keeping it to yourself. You choose to hover your thumb above the pages, choosing to use your hand’s round fleshy thenar to hold the pages.

You lift your hips upwards so he can easily remove your bottoms. He tugs them off you as if he has all the time in the world, folding your shorts and undies and setting them on the coffee table like they’re part of the decoration.

“I don’t think I’d be bored,” he kneels himself in front of you and lowers himself so he’s flat against the couch. He gently lifts your shirt higher so it’s past your belly button and proceeds to hook your legs over his shoulders. “Read to me? Out loud?” he asks you while massaging the outside of your thighs.

You lift your book, looking at him quizzically. However, when you see the tiny fading red mark on his forehead from when you used him as a stand, you can’t help but agree to his request. He lowers his head to your core and quickly taps your thighs twice to tell you to read.

“Now, a black flashy standard motorcycle with matching black chrome wheels pulls into the driveway of the auto shop where your car is currently getting its engine replaced. The steady hum of the engine is enough to have every single mechanic in the vicinity turn their –,” you were doing pretty well at reading until DK, without warning, puts his warm tongue flat against your clit, licking upwards until it reaches your nub. “Ah – h-heads to stare at the bike,” you stumble with the last phrase.

He lets his spit drop at the top of your clit, watching it glide downwards along your ridges before catching it with his tongue like a little game of Plinko. He feels you tense under his tongue, causing him to hum in delight. He mumbles something about you doing good before attaching his tongue to you again.

“One of them whistles when the motorcyclist comes to a full stop in front of the open auto shop garages,” you try to ignore the fact that he’s gently blowing wind to tease you, to hear you stumble across your words. There is no way you are going to cave right when you started reading out loud, so you bite your lip when you feel his soft and open lips close around your labia. But you can’t ignore him no matter how hard you try.

He kisses you deeply, full-mouthed while his large hands lock around your thighs. Painstakingly slowly, he buries his face deeper into your cunt.

“Eungh- O-one of them whistles when the mo- oh,” you moan while your mouth hangs open when he circles the tip of his tongue around your clitoris. You move your novel away to look at DK whose entire face is gone. You can only see his bushy black hair.

He continues to circle his tongue around you while your breathing gets shallower. You feel your arousal building, causing your thighs to close around his head. He looks up at you looking back at him with a lustful expression. He sucks softly on your clitoral hood and pries your thighs open with his hands. He only winks, letting go of your skin through his lips before going back to eating your cunt.

“…motorcyclist can loudly rev his engine,” you manage to finish the paragraph with a little sigh of relief.

“Mmmh. Good job, baby,” he groans, praising you against your cunt.

He kisses the inside of your right thigh while moving your left leg off his right shoulder.

You find yourself frowning just a little bit when you think he’s finished, but truthfully, he’s only moving your leg off the couch so he can finger you while eating you out. He puts his right hand on your stomach and uses his thumb to rub your nub.

“I’ll reward you if you keep reading okay?”

He kisses your stomach and moves your shirt down so you wouldn’t shiver from being cold. If only he knew why you were shivering.

“‘Couldn’t you have driven here?’ you frown at your older brother w- ah- fuck. Fuck,” you jerk in your seat when DK inserts a finger in your cunt. You can feel him smile against you as he drags his tongue against your folds while his finger dips in and out of you knowing exactly how to drag a string of moans from your mouth, to make your legs tremble and shake.

All this, and you’re only half a page into reading out loud.

“…while he reaches between his legs to pass you his extra motorcycle helmet as you approach him,” you read while trying to ignore the fact that you’re gripping your borrowed novel with so much force that you probably bent the matte paperback cover. “He shrugs and passes you the helmet which you – mmm fuck just like that – begrudgingly fit over your head.”

You’re clenched tightly around his two fingers as he curls them in you while sloppily giving you head. You hear exactly how wet you are, how his fingers squelch every time he reinserts them in you, how his coated lips smack against your glistening pussy – devouring you as his life depended on it. You can feel your juices pool around your ass as he uses his left arm to hold you down whenever you lurch upwards. He moans profanities against you, but never at you. When he raises his head to take a break, he makes sure his fingers never stop moving. He always brings you to your high, and you feel so safe with him.

And he tells you you’re sweet. He always does.

Sometimes you’re sweet because he compliments you for doing something for him. He calls you sweet when you’re frowning about somebody criticizing your RBF. You like it when he calls you sweet when he calls you Sweetie. You like it when he says it with flair. You like it when he says it when you show him your project. You like it whenever he says it when you make him take a sip of any of your sugary drinks – the way his face contorts in total disgust, but he still manages to do so with a smile on his face.

He never called you my sweet, but god damn do you wish you could experience what it would feel like for him to call you his. But tonight he describes your flavor as sweet as you like your teas. He can’t stop praising you for how sweet you are, how you’re like dessert on his tongue. And you can’t get him out of your head.

“He leans forward and clicks open the motorcycle’s rear footrests with the back of his boot,” your face scrunches, but you continue. “When he is done, he looks back at you struggling – eungh Kyeom,” you struggle.

He only grips your thigh tighter as he alternates between fingering you and pausing so he can kiss your cunt like he’s kissing you during sex. He flattens his tongue against you and twists it so he can tease your hole. You’re whining and speeding through the last few words of the sentence, desperate to have him in you.

“Whoa. Whoa,” he temporarily detaches himself from you to grab onto your forearm as he raises himself above you. His lips glisten from the wetness, and the color of his flushed face compliment the color of his sore lips. “Slow down baby,” he tells you and kisses your cheek, “Wanna hear your pretty voice, okay? Just read and relax.” He strokes your hair and brushes away the strands covering your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.”

But you don’t relax. How can you relax when he grips your hips, fingers dipping into your pelvic bone as he shoves his nose against your clitoris, sticking his tongue into your cunt? He bobs his head while he tongue-fucks you, nudging your nub and making your pussy throb even when he briefly comes up for air.

Your vision blurs as he continues to build your high, ignoring you as you continue to call out his name. The words on the page are replaced by stars when you tell him you can’t take it anymore. Heart racing and muscles tightening, you cum while his tongue is in you. And he laps you up as you convulse around him, back arching as you continue to come. He drinks what’s left of you like he’s drinking ice cold water at midnight – you’re insatiable. You moan his name into your book once more, hiccupping as he brings your left leg back on the couch.

“Yn,” he whispers as he removes your book from your face. He puts it on the coffee table without breaking eye contact with you. “What did you call me?”

You don’t hear him as you’re still struggling to catch your breath. Your pussy is still pulsing without pause. Everything is hazy, but you can see him reaching over for something in his cosmetics bag. You close your eyes, still undeniably horny and wanting more.

There is a little bit of shuffling and then the sound of a few light things dropping on the floor. He reaches under you and scoops you up as if you weigh nothing. You briefly remember him telling you about hitting a new PR where he could lift someone a little over his weight. But he brings you to your bed, only switching on your nightstand lamp.

He sits on the side of your bed while he strokes your cheek.

“Yn,” he whispers again while leaning closer to you. “Do you remember what you called me?”

You blink twice at him before slowly realizing. Your lips part in realization, and he only smiles at you.

He opens your nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom and your bottle of lube. Your fingers automatically fly to cover your lips in horror, but he only chuckles at your expression while he positions himself between your legs and leans over you. He coats his wrapped dick in the lube and rubs the remaining gel around your vulva. You whimper at the coldness, and he wipes the remaining bits on his thighs.

He leans over you again and rests his elbows on the sides of your face. He asks you again, gently, if you remember what name you called him.

You nod your head, breath hitching as you stare at him. It’s unfair, you think, to look as pretty as he is under the ugly yellow light your lamp emits. But he looks at you with so much care in the world, and you feel thankful that you’re spending your Tuesday night with him. You thank his lame excuse for intruding on your time for yourself. You thank him for spending time with you, for looking after you, even if he isn’t yours at that moment.

He aligns himself at your entrance while waiting for your answer.

You whisper it almost inaudibly, barely believing yourself as you let the word leave your mouth.

“Say it again,” he instructs you.

“Seokmin.”

You’re not sure if the two of you should have come up with one of those contracts you always read about in books when you first started the relationship. Maybe you should’ve learned from Lara Jean – a binding relationship contract written on notebook paper and signed in pen. There would be a couple of items on the list, a few weird ones, and then a majority of the items being standard ones. Standard item number one? No kissing. Standard item number two? No staying over after sex (sub-line: No cuddling). Standard item number three? No meeting unless it’s for sex. Maybe a weird item would be the option to try pegging. However, the last item on the list? No developing feelings for the other party.

If rules are made to be broken, but contracts signed by people older than eighteen are legally binding, then you would’ve been in jail by now.

His lips are locked against yours, groaning your name as he wraps your legs around his waist. He nibbles along your jaw as he makes love to you, slowly pushing deep inside you so you can feel his balls lay flush against your ass, feeling all of him in you. You call his name through a choked sob, your hands roaming around to find something to grab. Anything.

Your fingers find the back of his head, and you pull on his hair. And he flips like a switch, immediately pounding into you over and over again, praising you and calling you his.

Tonight, the rules have definitely been broken. And you’re starting to realize this isn’t the first offense.

.

“Okay so, I didn’t want to take it off because I wanted to see if my makeup would smudge, but I did it because I knew I was going to get hot.”

“Omg he wanted to keep his shirt on. He’s so quirky!”

“Stoppp,” he laughs while he passes the showerhead to you. “I can’t believe you’re the only person who tried to tell me a joke during sex.”

“It’s because I’m the only person you’ve ever had sex with,” you stick your tongue out at him while you rinse the body wash you previously bought with DK off your body.

“You too,” he retorts while turning around so you can rinse the soap off his body for him.

He grabs your shampoo from your hanging wire basket and plops a dollop into his hand. He tells you to look up while he lathers it in his hand before he brings his hands to massage your scalp. His fingers feel amazing while he massages you, so you close your eyes in the process, hoping to keep the shampoo out of your eyes.

He thinks you look like one of those dogs from the pictures you find online where the owner sticks a metal head massager on their heads. Your eyes are closed in contentment, and there’s a lazy smile on his face that he only gets to see so often. He can’t help himself but sneak a little kiss on your lips while he piles your hair into a mountain so that you look like that one guy from the first Incredibles movie.

You open your eyes to look at him, but you see that he’s purposely looking away, pretending to be interested in something else. You try to follow his eyes, but your eyes land on something dark crawling down the wall above DK’s head.

Being you, you blatantly point out the descending spider, and DK screams, slips, and crashes onto the tiled floor. Your bath products tumble down after him. You sigh, knowing you’ll have to clean up the mess and drive him to school tomorrow instead of sending him off tonight.

.

“Aww you care for me,” Dokyeom coos while you fuss over the ice pack on his ankle.

“I’m just making sure my Sybian isn’t too damaged,” you scoff at him.

You thought you would spend the night with a cozy book in bed while you wait for your face mask to dry. However, you find yourself blow-drying DK’s hair, letting him borrow one of your old t-shirts, and nursing his badly bruised ankle. It’s a wonder how he somehow didn’t end up spraining it after that nasty fall. You could’ve sworn you heard the cartoon swishing sounds while he tried not to slip.

Not to mention, he somehow talked you into cuddling with him in bed through several lame excuses.

Q. What if I fell off the bed?

A. Fuck, then pick yourself up I guess.

Q. What if I sprained my dick?

A. We have toys.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Although, you have to admit it feels very nice to sit in bed with him with his left arm around your waist while the two of you silently scroll through your phones. He leans his head on your shoulder and hugs you from the side. You tilt your phone towards him so he could watch you tap through your friends’ stories. You can tell he’s more needy than usual, probably from climaxing more than once in one night and then undergoing the shower incident following right after – he screamed while you crumpled the spider in a wad of tissue. He’s latching onto you like a parasite, but he does give you good dick so you think it’s more like a symbiotic relationship. The way he’s clinging to you makes you think it is what it feels like to be trapped under one of those large teddy bears you can buy at warehouse retail stores. 

He asks you if you’re going to the party on the weekend after you tap through the story of a mutual friend. You tell him you are.

“Be my date to the party?” he asks you.

You think he forgot you always go to parties with Jun and Chan.

“No thank you,” you politely decline his request, “I don’t do party dates.”

He pushes himself off of you, “Why not?”

“Because all of my past dates always left me for their friends and I would just spend every single party alone,” you grumble thinking about how many times you ended up taking care of drunk people you didn’t know because you ended up being sober the whole time.

“But I wouldn’t leave you.”

“There!” you exclaim while pointing your finger at him, “That’s what they all said to me.”

He frowns and crosses his arms, kind of upset you would think he would ever leave your side.

“Date or not I’m still not going to leave your side,” he grumbles while slinking down so he lays on the bed. He turns his body away from you to sulk.

The ice pack falls off his leg and tumbles to the ground. He continues to lay on the bed, not doing anything to pick it up so he can ice himself.

You know how stubborn he can be, especially when his pride is mixed in the equation. Part of you is proud he is sticking through being moody by refusing to move. However, you know how soft he is. If his future kid got a paper cut, he would probably end up crying harder than his kid. His kid would probably end up consoling him. His ankle must feel like pins and needles are sticking into it without the icepack, and he can’t do anything to distract the pain because his phone is out of his reach.

“Kyeom,” you gently shake his body. “You have to ice your ankle.”

He only shakes you off and brings his legs to his chest.

Usually, you would smack him with a pillow and call him dumb, but you think he’s suffered enough damages for the day. You know if you continue asking him to ice his ankle, he would just ignore you. So, you think either climbing on top of him or tricking him into breaking would be better choices. You choose the latter.

“Sigh,” you say out loud, pretending to talk to yourself. “If DK is sleeping then that means I’ll have nobody to cuddle with while I talk about my slutty costume choices.”

You see him slowly turn his head to look at you in the corner of your eye, but he quickly averts your gaze and turns his head back to its original position. You find yourself smiling at his action. He’s like a literal child. A puppy.

“Aww I thought Kyeom wanted to cuddle all night, but I guess I have to go to sleep because he’s asleep,” you tell him while leaning over him to check on him.

You see he’s pretending to sleep. He squints his eyes shut. His lips are poutier than usual, pressed in a thin line to probably stop himself from speaking.

“Maybe I’ll go sleep on the living room couch by myself so he can be more comfortable by himself,” you slowly move off the bed by trying to cross over his body.  

“Noo,” he wails while sitting up to grab you. He immediately yanks you back down, trapping you in his arms. “How slutty is it, Yn? HOW SLUTTY?”

.

You have your morning lab in a few hours, but you’re standing alone in your dark kitchen with your head stuck in the freezer. The only source of direct light comes from your freezer, and you’re glad you’ve lived in your place long enough to navigate in the dark. The green digital clock digits flash on your oven. It’s getting close to 4:00 am, but you can’t sleep.

The icepack, or more like a water pack at this point, left a giant wet spot on your carpet while it thawed. It now sits in a lumped form in the side door, wedged between a frozen loaf of bread and some microwavable pizza bagels. The coldness of the freezer feels nice on your skin, but it’s not enough to make you feel numb.

You feel hot and stuffy, and your mind has a million thoughts running around at once. You make him tell you why you should be his date to a stupid costume party, and he tells you he likes you. However, his dumbass knocks out immediately after while he’s still holding you tight in his arms. You’re left alone with your thoughts and a pounding heart while you wait for him to finally let go of you when he is asleep.

Truthfully, you want to tear your hair out. It’s not like you couldn’t wake him up to make him tell you whether or not he finished his sentence. However, you think you’ve already tested his patience enough in one day. You would trust his “I like you” more if he told you while he was drunk, but telling you and then immediately knocking out? You really don’t know if it could count as a confession.

So now you whisper scream into a frozen bag of mixed vegetables while you think about everything that happened this night. You think about him showing up at your door. You think about the hickies he leaves between your thighs. You think about the way he kisses you after you moan his name.

“Seokmin,” find yourself whispering his name.

You don’t understand how this name is so different from the others, but your fingers softly touch your lips as if you just whispered something you weren’t supposed to say. 

“Aww I get it. Jane Goodall. That’s so cute.”

“This is NOT a couple’s costume. I am clearly a hiker,” Chan angrily grumbles at the passerby while dumping another scoop of ice into the glass fishbowl on the kitchen island. He takes out his red handkerchief to wipe his hands and places it around his neck when he’s done.

“Why are you annoyed that people think you’re Jane Goodall? She’s one of the greatest scientists of our time. Do you not appreciate our women scientists? Women in STEM?” Jun asks him while he pops another sour gummy worm into his mouth. He licks the sour and sugary coating off his fingers one by one and wipes them dry on his monkey onesie.

You grab the bag of gummies from the table and dump the rest into the bowl. You tap and shake the edge of the bag until all of the remaining sugar falls into the bowl. Jun quickly plucks a worm out of the bowl before Chan turns around with a bottle of blue curacao in one hand and a bottle of coconut rum in the other hand. Chan insists on making fish bowls at parties for the three of you to share because he refuses to drink the jungle juice Jeonghan and Joshua make for parties. No matter how many times the two show Chan how they clean the giant clear plastic storage container they use for the juice, Chan absolutely refuses to drink from it. He argues that it’s a breeding ground for bacteria from people scooping the liquid with their cups, but Jeonghan dumbly replies that the amount of alcohol in the jungle juice should be enough to kill the germs.

By the time you’re done saying hello to some friends, Chan is already done making the bowl. He takes off his sunglasses and hangs it from his blue and grey colored top, looking at his creation with satisfaction. He swirls the bright blue concoction with three straws and tops it off with a paper umbrella toothpick he found in Jeonghan’s kitchen cabinets. Bon appétit.

The bright blue concoction stains your tongue, but it gives you a really nice buzz before you know how its aftereffects will hit you like a giant tsunami later. However, any precautious thought about getting too drunk and waking up with a massive hangover gets thrown out the window when Chan reminds you that the reason why the three of you took a ride-share cab is that you wantedto get fucked up. So the three of you smile and continue drinking.

.

The three of you are about two-thirds into finishing the fish bowl when you see DK and his friends stumble through the front door. DK’s dressed in the same slutty fireman costume he wears – the firefighter suit hanging low on his hips with the shoulder straps dangling, the hose on his shoulder, and the white tank top decorated with streaks of ash. You see Jeonghan greet him with a jello shot in his hand. The firefighter takes it from him and swirls his tongue around the perimeter of the jello, loosening it from the tiny container, and knocks it back swiftly in one go. He passes the container back to Jeonghan with no amount of blue raspberry flavored gelatin remaining on the inside. And all you can do is stare at him with your straw in your mouth while your friends attempt to play Jenga in their buzzed states.

It’s not long before you take your eyes off DK and realize that you finished the rest of the bowl by yourself. You tap in while Jun taps out of the game so he can happily scoop the slimy gummies out of the bowl and into his mouth. The tower looks jagged enough that one knee bumping against the table leg can easily knock the tower over. Shrek places their block on top of the tower with a shaky hand and sighs when the tower doesn’t topple over. A vampire bites their lip as they remove a side piece from the middle. You hold your breath as they slowly wiggle the piece loose, frowning when they successfully take it out of the stack and add it to the tower.

All eyes are on you as you hover your hand next to the piece that you want. You think if you take out that specific piece, you would make the tower a bit more balanced when it comes to how it leans. It also makes it harder for Chan to pull out a piece because he would end up shifting the balance if he pulled a block. Everything is in your favor – from the EDM song shuffling to a club song to your friends watching you silently – there is nothing that shouldn’t rule in your favor.

However, somebody behind you shrieks your name, and the tower topples. A few filled shot glasses are immediately placed in front of you, and everybody’s phone cameras are pointed at you, waiting to record you taking the shots. You sigh before bringing the first shot up to your mouth. You didn’t even get to touch the Jenga piece.

The perpetrator who stands behind you cheers the loudest every time you tip each empty shot glass over your head. He raises your hand in triumph and hugs you from behind your seat. The tsunami that’s been building up in the distance crashes. And by the end of it, you’re good as gone.

.

He tells you that no matter how comfortable his shoulder may feel at that moment, you do need to sit up and drink some water. And DK, for what seems like the nth time, hands you a bottle of water to drink.

He thanks the person who passed him the water bottle and stops for a minute. He points at him while scanning his outfit. “Hiker,” he finally decides on his answer.

“THANK YOU,” Chan yells at him while slapping him repeatedly on the back, unaware of his own strength, making DK flinch a little. Chan drunkenly decides that DK will become the fourth  person to drink from his fishbowl. He drags Jun, who is chatting up Trixie from the Fairly Odd Parents, with him to the kitchen to make a fresh batch.

DK is the type of person to make you forget, but not in a forgetful type of way. He makes you forget about your troubles. He makes you forget about the resident knocking on his door while the two of you hide in bed together. He makes you forget you’re at a house party in a room full of people. At that moment it’s just you leaning on his shoulder with his arm wrapped securely around you. None of you are hiding the fact that there’s something budding between the both of you. It feels nice, liberating even.

“Hi baby. You doing okay?” he asks you after making sure you drank until the waterline hit the top of the plastic label despite him being extremely drunk.

“I like it when you call me baby,” you mumble while falling back onto his shoulder, feeling yourself slowly sober up.

“Yeah?”

“But don’t tell anybody or else I’ll have your head,” you turn your head and glare at him.

“I’m not sure if that was a sexual reference or maybe you’ve been reading too many isekai mangas that Jun sends you,” he chuckles while laying your head on his shoulder. He almost sighs in relief when you don’t blame him for you losing Jenga earlier.

He gives an okay signal to any passerby who asks if you’re doing alright. 

“You weren’t by my side the whole time I was here. You’re a liar. Slutty liar.”

“I’m horrible aren’t I?” he kisses the top of your head.

“The worst.”

You never knew what “a beat” indicates in screenplays. You didn’t get why the screenwriter would want to indicate a pause. Nothing that you experienced in your life ever indicated a pause in the conversation. But now you understand. There are so many things you want to say, things you’re too afraid to say. You have questions for him, but you’re also happy he’s on your side. Maybe a “beat” is a filler. This pause in the conversation, you staring at him – eyes trying not to waver to his lips – it’s a mutual understanding between the two of you, something that makes up for what words cannot say. 

“I need to pee.”

.

Now is definitely not a good time to be confused about whether you need to pee or if you’re simply horny.

Tonight the two of you are sloppy, bodies pressed against each other in the quiet hallway of a house party. Someone occupies the hallway bathroom, and you’re leaning with your back against the wall. DK stands in front of you with his left forearm leaning against the wall in the space next to your right ear. He kisses along your jawline, nipping the base of your neck. The softness of his lips caresses your skin, blending into the waves while you slur your moans. He hushes you by covering his lips over yours. You prefer him closer to you so you reach behind his head to pull him into you. His mouth opens, and your tongue glosses over his. He meets you in the middle, circling his around yours and groaning when you tug on his lower lip with your teeth. Your hand roams across his chest, and he pushes into your thigh, grinding against you. Both of you are too drunk, too lost in each other to care if others are looking.

He pulls his head back and looks at you with a hooded gaze. He can’t believe the sight in front of him and the ache he feels inside of him. He leans his head against the side of your ear, nipping softly at your lobe before talking to you in a low voice, “I want to pin you against the wall with your legs wrapped around my waist while I whisper every single thought I’m having about you into your ear. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of this party without me supporting you. Everybody passing by will see how well you take me while you beg for me to pound into you deeper and harder. Then, you’d have to say goodbye to all of your friends while trying to keep my cum from leaking out of your sore pussy. I want to be able to open your legs and see it seeping out of you while I fuck it into you again in the car.”

Another beat.

This time it’s different. You feel your knees buckle underneath his body, sliding slightly down the wall. You look at his face hovering over yours, practically begging him to kiss you again. Anything. But he doesn’t. The two of you stay silent while you hear cheers from the living room. Then he proceeds to pull away as if nothing happened between you. He has the dopiest grin on his face. He cheeses at you – tiny wrinkles at the edge of his eyes and his pearly whites in full view. You’re still struggling to process the stream of consciousness he spoke into your ear.

“I like your pizza costume,” he giggles while poking your costume, especially the edges of the crust that hang off your shoulders.

“I bought it because I thought it might humor you,” you mumble while he takes your hands in his.

You see how much he’s gushing with happiness. You think he’s so cute, happy that your costume has such a positive effect on him. But you’re slightly annoyed that he’s able to move onto a different subject so quickly while you’re still stuck on the last one. You want more.

However, he tells you he really likes you and leans in to peck your cheek. When he pulls back, the bathroom door opens, and out steps Lee Jihoon who immediately grabs DK by his left ear and drags him away from you. “No fucking in the hallway,” he reprimands his friend.

DK only smiles at you while he’s being pulled away by his ear, too drunk to care, two finger hearts pointed directly at you.

You can only stand next to the vacant bathroom, now soberer than ever and seriously turned on.

You wake up on the floor next to your bed and slowly push yourself off the carpet, feeling the soreness in your body. You look at the carpet indents in your arm and then your surroundings. You notice your bed is empty, and Chan is asleep in his extra set of clothes, sprawled on the floor near your bedroom door. You can’t remember what happened in the latter half of the night, but you can at least deduce that all of you were at least sober enough to change out of your costumes and get ready for bed.

Your body is sore from sleeping on your floor, and you still feel pretty groggy. Still, the sweet scent of something coming from the kitchen is enough to convince you to walk outside instead of moving onto your bed to sleep some more. You stand up, knees cracking loudly, and you cross over Chan to exit your bedroom. You think it’s Jun who’s cooking, but you see him in his monkey onesie, passed out next to your rack of shoes near your entrance with a spare blanket covering him.

At least he has a blanket, you think to yourself. You woke up cold and with nothing covering you.

You see him standing in front of your toaster, wearing the extra set of clothes he keeps at your place. You see him place waffles into your toaster, minding his business while he hums to himself.

“Why are you here?” you approach him and stand by his side. You can see used wine glasses in the sink and opened chip bags you don’t remember buying sitting on the counter. The four of you probably continued drinking after arriving at your apartment. You hope there’s nobody else sleeping in your place.

“I dunno,” DK shrugs and proceeds to greet you by pulling you into his arms while he stands behind you, keeping a close eye on the frozen waffles.

You don’t get how he can look like he didn’t spend all of last night drinking. He looks completely refreshed with the kind of glow, an aura, you have after a good workout…not that you ever experienced what it must be like. He just looks like one of those smiling actors in fitness commercials.

You can feel his chest rumble against your back as he tells you he’s sorry he couldn’t cook something better for the four of you because he’s been living in the dorms for years. He honestly hasn’t touched a stove since he went home last summer. However, he did perfect cooking frozen food in microwaves and toasters. It’s the least he can do. He also quickly adds that he’s sorry he’s cooking all of your frozen waffles and would gladly reimburse you. You tell him to fuck off. There’s no way you would ever make him pay you back for making breakfast. He should know that by now.

The toaster pops, scaring you a little. A long yawn follows, and DK chuckles at you rubbing your eyes. He removes the waffles from the toaster and tells you to close your eyes. You dumbly follow, believing he’s going to kiss you when he cups your face in his hands. Instead, he rubs the inner corner of your eyes with his thumbs. “Eye boogers,” he says.

“Gross,” you watch him flick them to the ground.

“You thought that I was going to kiss you, huh,” he teases you while adding more frozen waffles into the toaster.

You grumble at him and stand to the side, leaning against your fridge. Your arms are crossed, and you watch him go back to humming the song he was humming before. It’s the same song playing from the speakers when the three of you decide to bring DK back to your apartment as there was no way he would have been allowed on campus in his state. It was partly Chan’s fault for getting him so fucked up – he couldn’t find regular vodka for the bowl so he replaced it with some Everclear he found tucked away under the sink. Jun tells him he really needs to stop snooping in Jeonghan’s cabinets. That’s when your memory starts to clear.

“Do you happen to remember what you told me before Jihoon dragged you away?” you curiously ask him.

You expect him to deny the memory or laugh at your sudden boldness, but he tells you that he knows better than to drink to the point where he blacks out and loses his memory. He would also like to stay true to his word, all of it.

“If you’re going to fuck in the kitchen, at least give us the waffles first,” Jun groans from the hallway.

DK winks at you in response, but you don’t know if he was referring to his second confession or if he promised the reality of his sexual fantasy. Before you can clarify, Jun appears in the kitchen, opening the dishwasher to grab a ceramic plate.

It shouldn’t be this confusing. DK told you that he liked you twice. You’re also pretty sure you like him. Nevertheless, it’s DK. He tends to joke around and switch from topic to topic. He throws words of affirmation at everybody he talks with. He confuses you even when you feel like you shouldn't be confused. 

“God Yn. You can’t be doing this to me.”

He sits upright, and his hands are positioned to his sides, tightly gripping his bedsheets.

You use his thighs as your support as you ride him, slowly bouncing up and down so he can watch his cock appear and disappear into your cunt.

You feel him twitching in you as you let soft moans float out of your mouth as you arch your back more and lean your head back toward the ceiling. You make sure you gyrate your hips switching between circular and back and forth motions as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. He wonders how your soft mewls would break into staccato moans if you were to continuously bounce on him, letting lust cloud his thoughts.

Then you lean further backward, practically grinding on him. He feels your ass rub against his balls, and he does everything he can to restrain himself from rutting himself upwards into your cunt. He knows your thighs are tired as your breathing gets heavier and the way you grind against him gets messier. You sit on him, your whole body trembling and twitching from pleasure simply from the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside you. He feels so warm today, so good, stretching you nicely as you tell him all he needs to do is to sit there and look pretty. You reward him by sitting upright, guiding his hands from behind his back so they rest on your ass. He kneads them roughly, feeling your skin fill the spaces between his fingers.

Your ass cheeks feel sore, and you can’t stop panting when grind on him, rocking him so crudely that his bed begins to squeak. You bring a hand in front of you to start rubbing your nub, and high-pitched whimpers instantaneously escape your mouth. Your soft circular motions increase speed, attacking your soft flesh and making you forget he’s in you.

“Hng Seok,” your face is scrunched in pleasure, “Fucking myself feels so good.” You smirk at him as you ride out your high, knowing very well it would piss him off. You can tell he’s already a little upset you’re fucking him in cowgirl when he doesn’t get to do anything but sit there. 

Annoyed, he brings his right hand upwards and brings it down quickly against your ass. The crisp slap rings throughout his empty room, and he feels you clench around him as you gasp out loud. He slaps your ass again, finding deep pleasure in watching you pulse and quake around him and hearing you moan. 

You lift yourself slightly upwards, having regained some energy, and reach under you to grab the base of his shaft. You watch his face contort from annoyance to surprise to pleasure as you stroke him, squeezing and releasing incrementally as you simultaneously fuck his upper half. 

You can tell he is about to cum when he starts reaching for your face. He wants to make out with you, to dig his fingers into your back as you suck his neck. He moans your name, cavernous and gutturally, and tells you you’re doing so well. His sweet, sweet baby. The way you’re fucking him makes him go feral. 

Just then, there is a knock on his door, and he immediately pushes you off of him, practically hopping off his bed so he can run to his door barefooted and naked. He tells them to wait a minute as he’s wrapping something up. 

You sigh, quickly following behind him so you can hide in his closet, already used to having his residents show up out of the blue. You hand him his sweater and a pair of shorts before climbing into his closet and closing the doors behind you. 

You hear him open his door a minute later. You’re not sure what the topic of their conversation is as everything sounds muffled. You hear DK tell them that he has to grab a few things first, and then he’ll meet them in their room. He closes his front door and opens his closet. 

He looks worried. You observe it must be something important or an emergency as he doesn’t bother to make himself look presentable or deodorize the smell of sex lingering on his skin. He tells you he’s sorry and that he’ll try to be quick. He kisses you on the forehead before leaving with his stuff. However, he tells you you’re welcome to leave. And you sit there in his closet, alone and naked, the spot on your forehead burning. The motion-sensor lights in his bedroom turn themselves off, and you know you’re fucked by the way he gave you a choice to leave instead of telling you, begging you, finding stupid ways to get you to stay like he always does. 

Your feelings are hurt, and you’re pathetically close to tears. Why is it that every time you look at him or talk to him, it feels like you have to stop yourself from having your confession burst out of your mouth? “I like you” always feels like it’s sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you’re too scared to confess to him. 

It’s dark inside the closet, but you’ve been in his room enough times to know what’s hanging above you and sitting beside you. His business shirts are hanging above your head. On the other side of the closet, he has his pants. They’re organized by fabric type and colors. The jeans hang on the far right side of the closet. The sweats and athletic tights are next. Then he has his business pants. Dark colors are on the right, and light colors are on the left. His clothing hanger hooks are always hung over the closet rod, never under. Yet, at this moment, everything feels so foreign, like you’re a new person in a new place. But it’s because you are a different person now – a person who has fallen for their friends with benefits. 

The metal front door whirs and clicks open. You can hear the automatic lights flicker. He tells you he’s alone and that you can come out as he sees your stuff in his room. You’re not replying. 

“Shit Yn,” he opens his closet to find you still sitting in the dark closet, staring into nothing. “Aren’t you cold?”

You shake your head.

“Did you go pee? You should go pee,” he says expressionlessly. There’s not an ounce of care present in his suggestion.  

He leaves your side and stalks over to his bed, throwing himself on it. He loudly groans into a pillow to rid some of his stress. You can only climb out of the closet, your jaw clenched. “I like you! I like you a lot” is still in your mouth, taunting you, threatening to escape. 

“Is he done yet?”

“Bro he literally just started. Have a little more faith in Chan, okay?” you mumble at Jun while looking at your phone. You lock the screen and place your phone face down on the table.

Today is a day for firsts. It is the first time Jun and you are trying the café across the nice-looking residential building near campus. It’s the first time you try an iced mint mojito coffee when you usually have its alcoholic counterpart. It’s the first time Jun had a professor cancel class this semester. It’s also the first time Chan hooks up with somebody he met on the dating app Jun set up for him. It’s also the first time you’ll openly admit that Jun somehow has the most “game” compared to the three of you. Strange universe.

Jun knows something is bothering you. Your comebacks have become snarkier, yet you’ve been more lenient with whatever he does around you. He once told you to pay for the three of your dinners, and you passed him your credit card without saying anything. And it’s not like DK hasn’t been becoming less of the topic of your conversations - you’ve been quieter. And he doesn’t know what’s going on because he’s scared you might punch him. So he doesn’t ask you and only looks around the café’s nice interior, choosing to count the number of glossy white honeycomb tiles on the wall.

“How can you walk up to somebody and ask them out even though you don’t know them?” you blurt loudly at him out of the blue.

“Me?” Jun dumbly asks you. He already forgot the tile number he was on.

You nod your head while you bring your drink up to your lips.

He leans back into his chair and crosses his arms.

“You know how blunt I am.”

You nod your head, recounting all of the times he was called out for his bluntness.

“I think you already know how I can sometimes rub people off in the wrong way because I accidentally say things that I don’t mean. Sometimes people like you understand me and sometimes people don’t. I guess it’s like people liking you? Sometimes people will like my bluntness and sometimes it comes off in the wrong way. So I think it’s the same for liking people? You either like somebody or you don’t? So I’ll ask anybody out as long as I’m interested in them because the answer is always a simple yes or no.”

You’re so confused.

“You literally jumped from one topic to another. I literally could not follow you at all,” you blink.

“Well I’m sorry,” he throws his hands up in defeat. He’s not used to giving helpful advice nor is he used to having people go to him for advice. He wonders if he should start counting the number of chairs in the café.

He remembers an interaction he had in front of your apartment building last week. He was surprised that DK would call him and ask if he could meet him in front of your apartment. Jun told him that Yn is home and that he could just knock on your door, but DK unequivocally rejected his idea and told Jun to come. Jun saw him walking back in forth in front of your apartment building sign with a bunch of ugly roses in his hand, obviously stressed out of his mind. He asked him what was wrong.

“I dunno. I think they’ve been avoiding me for some reason,” DK tells Jun once he feels calmer with the older boy around him. 

“But they’re literally wilting, bro,” Jun tells DK with clear judgment in his voice. “Some of the petals are black. I’d avoid you if you gave me wilting roses,” he points at all the petals with darkened tips and wrinkles.

“Yn will like them,” DK insists. “They think they look cool like that.”

Jun brought them to your apartment for DK, not wanting to ask or press him for more information. Although, he would have to admit it was a bit confusing to have DK ask him to deliver the flowers for him. Albeit, you are pretty scary when you’re mad. You were pretty enthusiastic when you saw the flowers in his hand, but you immediately slammed the door on him when he told you they were from DK. However, you did open your door again to let him use your restroom.

“Do you like DK but you’re having trouble figuring out whether or not he likes you?” Jun cautiously approaches you with his question.

You nod and spill your troubles to your best friend. You tell him about the two times he told you he liked you and about the day you hid in his closet. You tell him about the roses – how he didn’t text you or leave you a card so that you don’t know why he bought the roses and why he couldn’t deliver them himself. You tell him about the “not a date” dates and how he calls you pet names.

Jun tells you it sounds confusing, but it’s actually pretty normal to fall for your friend with benefits especially if you have a strong emotional connection. That’s how normal people fall in love. He feels for you and understands how confusing it must be for you when the two of you have basically skipped the dating part and landed in the married for thirty years part of the relationship without being in a relationship.

“But isn’t it tiring have to hide?” he asks you. “How many times did you have to hide because of a resident? How many times did you have to fake not knowing him or not liking him whenever you saw somebody flirting with him?”

“Too many times,” you admit. It’s exhausting.

Jun only nods and grabs his set of keys from the café table. He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, “Lemme buy you dessert while I pay for Chan’s ‘congrats on your first hook-up’ cake.”

You stare at your friend, “You aren’t going to give me helpful advice?” You’re dumbfounded.

“Who do I look like to you? Yahoo answers? Reddit? If you want helpful advice, suck it up and tell him that you need to talk to him and talk. It’s going to eat you alive before your future cats get to eat you.”

Fuck. Jun’s right.

Today is a weird day for firsts.

“But I literally just nutted,” DK tells you while you storm into his dorm.

He’s shirtless and is wearing those grey sweatpants that ride dangerously low on his hips. He looks like he just woke up from a nap, his hair messy and matted. A bottle of unscented lotion sits on his nightstand.

“Did you want to shower or do laundry with me later?” he asks you, letting his door shut behind him. He follows you to his bed. “Did you want to get dinner with me? We have a while until Chan’s night class ends. I know you usually wait for him so you can walk home with him.”

You sit on the edge of his bed and pat the space next to you, telling him to sit next to you. He sits next to you and looks at you with a worried expression.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I have it in me to fuck right now unless you find a way to help me get it up,” he confesses while scratching the back of his ear. He’ll say anything to fill the awkward silence, but he’s glad to see you after being out of touch for a week.

He sees you frowning, and his breath hitches when you turn to him.

“You confuse me DK,” your voice wavers. “I like you so much, but you keep on sending me mixed signals by telling me you like me and then acting like nothing happened. And then you’re so kind to me, and you call me those names while constantly treating me like I’m in a relationship with you when I’m not.”

“Oh, Yn,” his lip quivers.

“You don’t understand how much I like you, how much I want to stop being friends with benefits with you. But you confuse me so much. Your kindness is confusing and I wish you were meaner so I wouldn’t have fallen for you…why are you crying?” you slap his bicep.

He flinches in pain from the slap because he’s still shirtless, but the tears keep running down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he cries while clutching his arm. “I thought I was being straightforward with my feelings, but I hurt you instead,” he wails, “I’ve started liking you longer than you could imagine.”

You don’t know how to react to him crying while confessing, so you awkwardly get up and walk over to his mini fridge to bring him one of his frozen sponge packs to ice his arm.

.

You kiss him back before closing his large metal dormitory door behind you. His keypad whirs and clicks its automatic lock into place, and you make your way to the hallway elevators, giddy on the inside.

You make your way past all the bright green dormitory doors and stop in front of the elevators. At the side of the elevator is the large classroom bulletin board with DK’s stupid laminated face smiling at you. This time the board is sky blue. You can recognize the clouds glued onto the board anywhere – they’re sheep repurposed into clouds from when he did the board about sleep facts. Hot air balloons decorate the board. Expensive cardstock letters spell the title: Love is in the air, and so are STDs! You snicker at the tiny rips in the blue background from students ripping off the taped condoms to use for themselves before stepping into the elevator.

Your phone in your pocket buzzes when you step out of the elevator and exit the dormitory. You pull out your phone while standing outside. It’s a text from DK. He says he’s been waiting for a while now, but he wants to be a bit selfish tonight. He asks you if you’re free this Friday night even though he knows your schedule like the back of his hand. He sends another text to let you know he’s horny again, but he missed you. A lot. 

Stepping to the side to let other residents in and out of the dorm, you make your way along the front of the dormitory so you stop under his window. You see him looking out to check if you made it out of the building. You wave at him and hold your phone up for him to see while giving him a thumbs up. He triumphs when he realizes you're agreeing to go on a real date with him, and you laugh when you see his figure disappear when he trips while jumping. He comes back to his window with a shirt on this time. He waves goodbye to you, and you wave back with a large smile on your face. This time the smile doesn’t drop. 

HAECHAN ♡ Beatbox

patience

🫧 pairing: kim mingyu x fem. reader

🫧 genre: fluff, smut (minors dni), very very slight angst bc oc jumps to conclusions for a living, established relationship AU

🫧 summary: usually, taking mingyu to family events is no big deal.

🫧 warnings: cursing, abuse of the word baby idk what came over me, hair pulling, fingering, marking, impregnation kink, cum play, unprotected sex (-1000/10 recommendable!!!)

🫧 word count: 3.8k

masterlist

a/n: head empty. only kim mingyu tho[ugh]ts.

----

Most of the time, Mingyu was a very patient man when it came to you.

He'd endure the meanest things when you teased him like some kind of saint that loved you way too much to be mad at you, and sometimes you wondered just how far this patience would last. The idea of him finally cracking, deciding to put an end to your shenanigans and show you who was in charge was definitely not a novel thought, but an exciting one.

But maybe now wasn't the perfect moment for it.

Your parents had invited you both to celebrate buying a new grill, the smell of champignons and meat filling your senses from the second Mingyu parked his car just outside the garden. Not only you, but almost your entire family living closeby was there since everyone's busy lives made it so difficult to meet up like this more than once a year, which also meant that the second your boyfriend and you entered the garden, you practically had no choice but to go separate ways to catch up with everyone.

While you were chatting it up with your aunts, you could see Mingyu cracking jokes with your uncle and father standing in front of the grill before the latter offered him the grill tongs, and you could feel pride swelling up in your chest at the sight in front of you. Watching Mingyu get along so well with your family made your heart weak, and the way he looked right now didn't make it much easier to endure either. You were lowkey regretting buying him that black polo shirt the longer he stood so awfully far away from you, the sleeves stretching around his arms teasing you from all the way there.

Sometimes you wished it was just you and him.

"So, have you guys thought about marriage yet?"

Almost spitting out your lemonade on your favorite aunt's blouse, you whirled around in shock. "Have we w-what?"

While you were still trying to find out if you really heard her right, both your aunt and your mom watched you amusedly. "Marriage. He seems to love you a lot, and by the way you've been ignoring us this entire time just to stare at him it seems to be mutual."

"Mom, what-"

The heat taking over your body started to get uncomfortable the longer your mouth protested against speaking, and the older women in front of you seemed to enjoy every second of your misery right now. Of course you had thought about it, but you weren't going to force Mingyu into something he wasn't absolutely sure about. Maybe three years into a relationship wasn't enough for him yet. Or maybe you were the one panicking.

Patting your shoulder, your aunt let out a soft chuckle. "Relax, sweetie. We just want you to be happy, and he seems to be exactly the right person to guarantee your happiness."

"Not to mention that your children would look devastatingly gorgeous, wouldn't they?"

"Mom!"

Maybe meeting your family wasn't such a good idea after all. They just wanted what was best for you, of course, but they sure knew how to rile you up with just a few words. What made things worse was that Mingyu caught your gaze that exact moment, throwing a cheeky wink at you which you didn't react to since you were trying your best not to combust right that second, causing him to raise his brow in question. You'd have to make up an excuse if he asked you about it later.

"I need an actual drink." Gulping down the remainder of your now piss warm lemonade, you excused yourself to the kitchen, eyes staring holes into your father's precious lawn as you did your best ignoring the silly giggles that could've very well come from thirteen year old school girls rather than two middle-aged women.

Luckily for you, the kitchen was free of nosy relatives who thought teasing you about how smitten you were with your boyfriend was the best topic of conversation, and you allowed yourself to heave out a big sigh of relief as you closed your eyes. The noise from outside faded into a soft lull and the AC blowing down on you seemed to do wonders for your burning skin, distracting you enough as not to notice the warm presence of the person you were trying, but failing to erase from your thoughts for at least a second.

"Everything alright, baby?"

You flinched in surprise, but before you could turn around to face him Mingyu's arms snaked around your waist from behind, interlacing just on top of your belly button. His chest crowded you against the counter where the bottle of tequila was still waiting to be poured into your glass, and your shoulders sagged in relief when you felt his chin rest atop your head, his breath blowing several of your strands into disarray.

"Yeah," you mumbled, not able to hide your pout however. "I just didn't expect my mom and my aunt to gang up on me today. If I'd known, I definitely wouldn't have bothered coming."

Mingyu's chest rumbled against your back, his arms momentarily squeezing your waist a bit tighter as he laughed. "Aw, what's wrong? What did they tell you, baby?"

"Nothing worth mentioning," you lied through your teeth, though you were a shitty liar and Mingyu had always been able to see right through you, just like now. "They're just being annoying as usual."

Just as expected, Mingyu didn't buy it. Squeezing your waist again, he crowded you even further against the counter so his chest was entirely pressed to your back, his warmth and the smell of his after shave washing over you like a wave. He leaned his head down until you felt his breath on your ear, urging you to speak.

"You look too upset about it though. C'mon, tell me what's bothering you and I'll fix it."

Damn him for making your heart melt in a matter of milliseconds. You knew he was well aware of is effect on you and that he was probably doing it all on purpose, but you still couldn't bring yourself to keep up your stubborn act anymore. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut to gather the smallest bit of courage.

Alright, here you went. "They asked me when we were gonna get married." You gulped, still not opening your eyes. "And...they might have said our kids would look 'devastatingly gorgeous'. Or at least my mom thinks so."

For one, two, three long seconds, Mingyu froze, the occasional puff of air hitting your ear the only sign that he didn't evaporate into thin air. You struggled to gulp down the lump in your throat the longer you were left with no reaction from him, scared that you put him off with all that domestic talk. Sure he'd told you he wanted to be married and have a family at one point in his life, but who said he wanted it now? With you?

What if you'd done and wrecked this whole thing now? Mingyu was so well integrated into your life at this point that living without constantly having him by your side almost seemed impossible, or at least excruciatingly hard. You needed him, period.

"Wait, why were you so upset then?"

Finally speaking up, Mingyu grabbed your waist and turned you around, eyes scanning your face for an answer while you immediately started fidgeting. He took one of your hands into his to interlace your fingers, his other hand gently tilting up your chin so you would look at him. To your relief he didn't look upset or disappointed, just very unsure of what to make of your facial expression right now.

"Baby? Were you mad because you don't want all those things?"

Now you were the one trying to read his thoughts, but you came up empty. He just looked very nervous despite his attempt at looking strong, and suddenly you weren't sure why you'd even told him all of this if this topic made both of you this jittery. Still, this was your chance to make things clear, and you wouldn't take it for granted.

"No, I'm pretty sure I want to marry the love of my life and raise our children together," you said, the miniscule widening of Mingyu's pupils not going unnoticed by you as you smiled at him. "But I don't want to rush things if you're not ready yet. We're still young anyway, and maybe marriage isn't even all that great but people keep brainwashing their children to think of it as something great because they're afraid they might-"

"Would you stop rationalizing yourself out of wanting something wonderful?"

Your jaw snapped closed, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. Mingyu was looking at you with his mouth twisted in amusement but also in alarm, struggling to find the proper words before taking your other hand into his to lace your fingers together as well.

"I want all of that too, and I mean it", he countered when you raised an eyebrow. "And I want it with you, and nobody else in case your delusional brain made you think otherwise."

The grin taking over your face made your cheeks hurt from how wide it was, embarrassed but also amused to see just how well Mingyu knew you by now. He shook his head at you in mock disappointment, his cute pointy teeth greeting you as he smiled right afterwards.

"Really?"

"Fuck yes, princess," he assured you for the nth time, and you wondered how this man didn't grow tired of doing this so often. Even you found yourself annoying. Raising your hand to his face, he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, effectively turning your knees into pure jelly.

"Just give me the chance to propose in a proper way. I've been planning the whole thing out for so long, I can't not do it. Yeah?"

Of course he'd been gathering ideas for his marriage proposal, who did you take your own boyfriend for? He was the biggest romantic in the hemisphere, and not only because of his height. After all, it was Mingyu who taught you how to love in the first place.

"What if I want to propose though?"

You let out a laugh at the perplexed expression on his face, leaning forward to rest your forehead on his broad chest. "I'm just kidding. My mouth would probably fail me if I got on my knee for you."

You probably shouldn't have said it that way.

"Oh yeah? Last time I checked your mouth worked just fine, doll."

Tensing at the sudden drop of his voice, you slowly peeled yourself from his chest, heat rising to your face in lightning speed. "Shh, my parents are literally right there! Behave, Gyu. Please?"

"I would, if you hadn't messed me up with this whole raising children thing," he nearly whined, which was amusing because he was literally pinning your hips to the counter with his mighty arms right now. "Now I can't help but wonder what our kids will look like. What if they don't look like me at all? How will people know I'm their father then?"

The hysteria bubbling up his voice nearly made you topple over as you laughed, wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye while Mingyu finally realized what he was saying and cracked down too.

"In that case," you murmured, not able to hold back anymore as you pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, "I'd make sure to tell everyone that you're the one I made those kids with. That we're a package deal. That I'm only yours."

You could pinpoint the exact moment Mingyu's eyes turned pitch black, pushing back the soft brown you were so familiar with. His possessive side was one he showed rarely, mostly because there was no need to prove it since everyone knew how over the moon both of you were for each other, but he seemed to be in a different mood today. Probably because the scenario hanging over your heads was both precious and turning you on, causing him to wrap his arms around your waist and let them move further down until they were low on your hips.

"You really don't know what you do to me, baby."

When his hands moved even further down until you felt him squeeze your ass you gasped, both in arousal and in fear because anyone could enter the kitchen anytime. Having to explain to your family why your boyfriend was feeling you up in the middle of the house was not really what you'd call light conversation, especially because they were already awfully nosy enough without having to see Mingyu make love to you. You would never be able to live that down, not to mention you couldn't desecrate your mother's holy place like that.

"Mingyu-"

"Ugh, I know," he sighed before pressing his forehead to yours, noses brushing each other. "Why do you have to be this irresistible though?"

You couldn't suppress the coo leaving you when he leaned his face into your hand that was reaching out to cup his cheek, brushing the soft skin in soothing circles. "Look who's talking. Let's get out of here?"

Mingyu beamed at you, the soft brown returning as he took the hand cupping his face and kissed the inside of your palm, pulling you closer to press yet another kiss to your forehead. You knew he was channelling himself to keep it light for your sake, not wanting to embarrass you in front of your family, and it made him so much hotter you couldn't believe you didn't jump his bones already.

"Alright I'll get the car, you say goodbye and we'll meet outside?"

"Deal."

The look on your mother's face when you announced your departure was priceless, saying something about 'cake to be had' and 'fruit to be cut', but luckily she didn't pry further. Hugging your parents goodbye and expressing Mingyu's sincerest apologies for running off without greeting (mainly because he could hardly go around hugging your big ass family while donning a hard-on that was very hard not to notice given its...remarkable size), it took you less than five minutes to sink into the passenger seat of Mingyu's Benz.

Record time.

---

"Fuck 'gyu, you're gonna break me if you keep this up-"

Your nagging was cut off by your own moan, fingernails digging into the skin of Mingyu's broad shoulders as he turned your body into his canvas, sharp teeth nipping into your skin before his tongue soothed the spot until he moved onto the next. The two fingers messing your insides up relentlessly thrusting in and out, scissoring as his thumb drew circles on your clit until your legs tried to clamp together, only to be held off by his weight on you.

Mingyu grunted in response to your noises, a cocky grin lighting up his features at seeing you this dishevelled, entirely at his mercy as he turned you into his very own mess. Drowning out your moans with his lips, he pinched your clit to make you gasp in surprise, using the opportunity to slide his tongue through the seams of your lips, the taste of mint and a hint of lemonade from before conquering your tastebuds.

"Can't help it if all I can think about is making you cum right now," he panted between kisses, thrusting even harder until your moans changed their pitch, getting rougher and guttural the more he kept going. "Been thinking about ruining that dress ever since you wore it, baby. You really should've known better than to tease me like that."

The offending piece in question now lay on the bedroom floor among Mingyu's own clothes and underwear, but it had really done its job. The button down satin dress was classy enough to be worn at a family get-together, but the occasional peek of your leg and the info that you happened to wear his favorite set of lingerie underneath it had Mingyu wrap his mind around your outfit for the entire day, just waiting to finally rip it off you at the end of it. And he did, along with the lingerie he suddenly didn't pay that much attention to. Instead, all he could see was you, without any layers that needed his fantasy to run laps, entirely for him.

You playfully smacked his shoulder, tilting his chin up so you could trace his jaw with kisses as he still kept thrusting into you with just his fingers. "In the end you got what you wanted, didn't you?"

"Still getting it, in fact."

"God, shut up," you giggled and led him back to your lips, crashing your own to them until you ran out of breath, your chest heaving. "Now can you..?"

Pretending to be oblivious, Mingyu thrusted his fingers even faster, raising his eyebrows at you. "Can I what, doll? Tell me."

"Can you fuck me now? Like, properly? I think I might cry if you keep this up."

A look at your eyes told him you weren't lying, the beads at the corners of your eyes making his dick twitch in a new kind of excitement as your hips began staggering, the signs of an oncoming orgasm all too familiar to him. Deciding to play nice, Mingyu coaxed you into it and swallowed your moans as he kissed you with a newfound force, caressing the inside of your thigh while he rode out your orgasm.

"Mingyu," you rasped once he pulled back from you, your vision slowly clearing after seeing nothing but white just now. "Mingyu, please, please I want to feel you inside me now, please."

Hearing you chant 'please' while your brows furrowed in absolute concentration on your pleasure made Mingyu groan in satisfaction, unable to hold back anymore himself. Wiping the tears and beads of sweat from your face he kissed you once more, nipping at your bottom lip until you whined into his mouth.

"Will you be good, baby? Will you let me fill you up so you can have that baby you wanted so much?"

The reference to your conversation from before had you whining, thighs trying to rub against each other but held off by Mingyu's hands keeping them spread apart, the cold air hitting your pussy making you hiss in overstimulation.

"Yes, I'll be good! For you, I'll be good for you so please, 'gyu fuck me already," you rambled without really registering anything you said yourself, desperate to feel him stretch you out until you could think about nothing else than his cock filling you to the brim and rendering you senseless. "I promise I'll be good."

"I'll take your word for it then," you heard him say before he slowly pushed in, the mingled sound of your moans and expletetives filling the room around you.

Mingyu was big, everywhere. That meant no matter how often he'd fuck you the feeling of his big cock stretching you until the inside of your thighs burned slightly would never be normal to you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you felt him massage your breast while slowly thrusting into you.

"More," you gasped as your fingers wove through his thick locks, noticing the sweat sticking to it the longer you went at it. "Move faster, baby. I want you to fuck my brains out please."

Adjusting his angle by tilting you up like a ragdoll, Mingyu grunted. "Your wish is my command, doll. Don't blame me if you can't walk tomorrow though."

"I don't care, just go harder, Min-"

You definitely didn't know what you were signing up for. The world shifted on its axis when Mingyu thrusted harder and deeper than before, your fingernails scratching red trails up his back the harder he went, hot breaths intermingling into one. You lost control over the sounds leaving your mouth, an alternation between Mingyu's name and various unholy expressions which all ended with a dragged out moan that synced with Mingyu's own sounds.

Sensing that you were close to the edge yet again when the space around his dick compressed even more, Mingyu panted. "Want me to put my cum into you, princess? Wanna see if you get pregnant with my baby if I do."

"Fuck, you can't just talk like this, it's killing me," you managed to chide him, although a pinch to your clit in retaliation shut you up just as quick, trying to stall you orgasm as best as possible. However, Mingyu wasn't having it.

With a strong grip of your hair he coaxed a whine from you, relishing the dull pain at the root of your hair as he pounded into you. "Come on, baby, just cum already. I know you want to, I can feel you cunt squeezing me all this time. It's practically begging to milk my cock right now."

After that, he didn't need to say or do much more until your thighs began shaking rapidly, your pussy clenching around Mingyu's cock finally sending him over the edge as well, hot cum shooting into your womb until you thought you were burning up from its heat.

"Fuck-"

"Shit, princess. Look at you, you're such a beautiful mess right now."

Pulling out with a wicked grin, Mingyu made a show of admiring the state of your post-orgasm body, dragging a finger through your cum-drenched folds and raising it to your face with a challenging look. Taking on the challenge as he knew you would, you slowly led his finger into your mouth, meticulously licking it clean and swallowing the mixed fluids of you and him before pulling him closer for a kiss.

"I don't know how I deserved you, but I love you so much," he moaned after you pulled away, the dark look in his eyes asking for a round two for which your body was way too exerted however.

You winked at him before gesturing him to help you hop off the bed for a post-sex piss and a shower. "Not more than I love you, babe."

Mingyu's patience came in various shapes and forms. That night, it came in the form of washing and massaging you in the shower and making you a late-night snack despite wanting to continue exactly where you'd left him hanging with one of the most sinful pictures he'd ever seen.

And still, he knew he would never have to wait long for your affection, and perhaps that was why you both made such a great team.

----

a/n: hope you enjoyed this!! if yes, please leave a reblog or a comment <3

⁠PEDRO PASCAL as EZRA ⁠— Prospect (2018) dir. Christopher Caldwell and Zeek Earl

mingyu :: going seventeen special - going svt x mmtg