Kim Mingyus (unhelpful) Guide To Losing Your Virginity

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity

❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kim mingyu x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, rated m for mingyu, slow burn, he fell first but she fell harder but then he tripped and ate shit, probably the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written, mingyu and mc are both virgins, sexual content, sexual tension, protected and unprotected sex (i would not advise doing the latter), lots of teasing and banter, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, wall sex, couch sex, public sex, mingyu discovers what pasties are, soonyoung orders 20 connect fours, they are avid enjoyers of the barbie movies

SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn’t), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).

PLAYLIST ▸ perfect by one direction • spell by niki • fatal flaw by ellise • give me a kiss by lolo zouaï • step? by bibi

WORD COUNT ▸ 31,273 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ someone (fia) once told me i write too many college aus. i said yeah ur right. and i’m gonna do it again

“BIRDS AND BEES CANNOT PHYSICALLY FUCK.”

You sounded more distressed than informative while you were trying to reason with your longtime best friend, Kim Mingyu. He, on the other hand, appeared visibly worked up over this childish level of argument you two were having.

“It is a metaphor,” he said. “Everyone knows birds and bees aren’t screwing each other up in the trees.”

You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hours ago, you had fucked yourself over after Kwon Soonyoung had casually brought up the topic of body counts. After everyone in your friend group went around listing theirs (Soonyoung: 3; Jungwoo: 3; Minghao: 2; Vernon: 5), you accidentally blurted out that your body count actually existed—one, to be exact.

This was a problem because, to everyone’s prior knowledge, you were a virgin.

Keep reading

THE WEEKND SERIES: EARNED IT - JEON WONWOO

author’s note: i have been seeing so many tiktoks about the ball season in vienna and as someone who had a ball herself i got so much nostalgia from them, this is how this fic was born.

synopsis: royalcore at its finest; a dance of waltz with a certain familiar masked stranger.

word count: 0.5k | genre: fluff, royalcore | pairing: wonwoo x f! reader | warnings: mentions of dresses, reader is referred to as ‘madam’

the masterpost of this series can be found here.

the night was perfect. a sky full of stars, big colorful gowns, fancy black tuxedos, a palace with the greatest and finest architecture, delicately decorated by the biggest artists, shining lights of the chandeliers unraveling the main event of the building; a masked ball.

“pardon me, my mistake.” says a tall stranger while looking at you through his black mask, tiny dark crystals on it around his eyes, making every gaze focus on it. you bow as the etiquette requires, lowering your head while holding onto your own disguise by one hand, carefully putting your weight back onto your heels. “i am deeply sorry sir i should’ve looked in front of me. these masks are exceptionally brilliant, but make me partially blind, even with contacts on.” the man chuckles, nodding with his head to express his agreement, then he speaks. “i myself have a bad vision, so i can understand.” his giggles die down, in their place a cheeky grin making its way onto his features. “can i have this dance?” now it is his time to bow, his awaiting hand lightly hanging in the air. you take it, and in that moment you swear you feel a spark light up as the touch of his hand makes your heart warm and fuzzy. the music starts once more, and he pulls your figure flush against his own, taking the lead in your moves as you let yourself relax in his hold. “you are a good dancer, sir.” you note while looking up at him, to which he offers a slight smile, his mouth curling upwards ever so slightly. “you are not bad yourself, madam.” he replies while changing posture, getting ready for the big finale as you can tell. “shall we give others a show then?” he winks behind the piece covering his face and you nod in agreement, eyes sparkling. he lifts you up just enough to make you twirl, showing off your dress which in his opinion is the most breathtaking he has ever laid eyes on. upon finishing the waltz you get a round of applause as he makes you turn in the center of the polished wooden dancefloor one more time. “you are perfect.” he breathes out. “this is perfect.” his hands fall upon your mask, thugging on it gently in order to reveal your face. you do the same to his, now looking at his features, analyzing every detail of his nose, his moles, the creases under his eyes as he grins at you.

“can i?” he asks shyly, face inches away from yours. “you earned it.” you reply quietly and he doesn’t hesitate for even a moment, going in to kiss you swiftly but oh so gently, the grip on the masks loosening, letting them go.

heads up! slight vent fic. comfort for reader crying.

vernon wraps an arm around you when you start to cry, and it's easy enough to pull you closer to his side. he pauses the movie the two of you were watching as a way to distract you, and turns to you. "we can talk about it, if you want?"

you've buried your face into your hands, shoulders shaking as you cry. "it's stupid."

"it's not," he says, voice softer. "not if you're upset. c'mon," he reaches up, fingers curling around one of your hands to pull it back. just enough that he can see your face now. "if you don't want to, then say that, okay?"

you don't say anything. he lets go of your hand, and you just turn away--but you do lean fully into his side, just to feel his warmth against your body. you don't have to say that you saw pictures on instagram of your friends living it up on the trip you were quietly uninvited from. you don't have to tell vernon again that you lied to everyone else and said something "suddenly came up" so you had to focus on that instead, just to let the other person save face.

"it's okay to be hurt, you know." vernon traces his fingers over your arm, just holding you as you fight back further tears with another hard swallow. "i think you have to let yourself be hurt if you wanna heal."

"easier said than done." you press your lips together. "no one wants to feel that way."

he cuddles closer to you. "yeah, but... i dunno. if you never let yourself feel that way freely, then can you really get through it? it's fine if you need to cry." he leans over to kiss the side of your neck, just a chaste peck to remind you that you aren't alone now. "so?"

with a heavy sigh, you turn. you're not facing him, but toward the television, as you rest against him still. "i'll cry if i need to. i think the moment's passed, to be honest."

he doesn't believe you. not when your voice wavers a little bit. but he just wraps an arm around you, letting you snuggle in. "just let me know what you need from me, alright?" he kisses the side of your head. "it's okay. i've got you, alright?"

and he does. even when you start to cry a few minutes later, he holds you through it, just to lovingly shelter you as you push through this storm of emotions. he's got you.

PHOTOGRAPH | JEON WONWOO

based on "photograph" by Ed Sheeran

SYNOPSIS | Wonwoo knew dating as an idol would be almost impossible, yet he was ready to take the risk. Unfortunately, you were the definition of "right person, wrong time". PAIRING | idol!wonwoo x fem!reader GENRE | angst WORD COUNT| 2.8k

natalia's note | this is wonwoo's pov from this fic, though it can be read as a stand alone

Wonwoo never cared about relationships - he thought goodmorning texts were overrated, planning dates seemed too tiresome, and he didn’t see the appeal of letting someone else wear his hoodies and sweaters. Besides, he was too busy with work and it was hard to focus on anything else than the neverending schedules. He couldn’t remember the last time he got more than five hours of sleep. 

At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

Dating in the industry was hell on earth, he knew that. Wonwoo had witnessed careers end and lifes get destroyed just because people fell in love. So, he made a promise to himself that that would never happen to him - he wouldn’t allow himself to fall for anyone, and spare himself the trouble of a broken heart and a ruined career. He didn’t care that he had no one to cuddle at night, no one to hug, no one to kiss, no one to call during tour. 

And then you came, and changed his entire world. You became his everything, his little ray of sunshine - you were the first person he looked for in the crowd during their concerts, the first person he ran to on the backstage, the first person he called after they won an award. For the first time in his life he felt complete. 

“I’m sorry. It wouldn’t have worked out either way.”

He didn't even want to imagine the look on your face when he said it. Through the fucking phone. 

Wonwoo was on the verge of throwing up, but he knew that if he didn’t end it now, he’d never do it. He spent the last week crying before falling asleep from exhaustion in the night, and quickly wiping the tears that rolled down his cheeks during the day - he knew what he had to do, or both of your lives would get destroyed, and that’s something he’d never be able to live with. 

“Wonwoo, can I talk to you?” He didn’t know what to expect when their manager approached him in the middle of their rehearsal, but he definitely didn’t expect to hear that he had to break up with you, or his work and your safety would be on the line.

Wonwoo pulled the phone back from his ear, and with a shaky finger pressed the red button. 

That would be the last time he’d ever talk to you. 

We keep this love in a photograph We made these memories for ourselves Where our eyes are never closing Hearts are never broken And time's forever frozen still

Wonwoo didn’t bother with picking up his suitcase from the trunk, he knew Mingyu would pick it up for him. It generally seemed that he couldn’t be bothered with anything other than drinking himself into oblivion and crying until he passed out from exhaustion ever since he broke up with you. All of that just so he'd try to erase every possible memory he had of you together. 

With heavy shoulders, and a headache, Wonwoo shut the door to his room behind him, enveloping himself in the darkness. Usually, you’d already be there, dressed in one of his hoodies, lying on his side of the bed because you fell asleep while waiting for him. He’d tuck you in, making sure you were warm and comfortable, before he’d take a quick shower and unpack some of his stuff, so he wouldn’t have to worry about it in the morning. 

The absence of you in his bed didn't hurt as much as what he saw on his bookshelves and desk, though - countless photos of you from trips, nights spent together in your apartment, photos from parties with the guys and their girlfriends, and pictures he took especially with you in mind. 

His favourite one had to be the one from Japan, when you and the rest of the seventeen girlfriends flew out to Tokyo and surprised them after they won the daesang. You were all huddled on the floor of the hotel room, trying to fit in the picture, as all of you had your arms wrapped around each other, smiles on your faces. Wonwoo could practically hear your laughter, as DK almost knocked the table down, because Seungkwan pushed him to be sure he’d be in the frame. 

“Move your ass, I want to be in the picture!” Seungwan yelled, digging his elbow into Seokmin's stomach. 

“You are, you idiot. Can’t you see that half of your face is in the frame? Stop hitting me!” DK yelled back, pushing Seungwan in return. 

Neither of you knew what was ahead of you at the time, and Wonwoo couldn’t stand the look of love in your eyes, he couldn’t stand the way he was shamelessly staring at you with nothing but adoration, like none of the other twenty people in the picture existed. 

“Fuck!” Wonwoo yelled, slamming the photo against the floor, breaking the glass. 

“Wonwoo, are you okay?” Mingyu knocked on his door a second later, making him wonder how long his friend had been standing there. “Just leave me alone,” Wonwoo said, his voice breaking, as the first tears started falling. He was surprised he was still able to cry, considering how much he was doing that for the past few days. 

“Leave me… alone.” 

So you can keep me Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet You won't ever be alone

“I miss you.” 

Wonwoo couldn’t see your face, but he knew you were pouting. He giggled to himself, and nuzzled his face further into the pillow like a lovesick teenager, smashing his glasses against his face in the process.

“I miss you too, baby,” he said, picking up his phone from the bed, as if it would make him feel any closer to you. “But I’ll be home in a week.” A week too long. 

He could hear you sigh angrily, as you started your usual rant about why overseas schedules shouldn’t be longer than five days, giving him a recap of the list you have written down in your notes app. “You can laugh as much as you want, Jeon Wonwoo, but I’m suffering here.” 

There was nothing else for him but to laugh at your sulking tone, he loved how you didn’t have any limits when it came to him and dissing his schedules. “Do you have the book I gave you before I left?” Wonwoo asked, and immediately heard some shuffling, as if you were getting up from the bed. 

“Of course, but I’m not in the mood for reading,” you sighed. To be honest, you were rarely in the mood for reading - you preferred being read to. Specifically by Wonwoo. Definitely not because you were addicted to his deep and velvety voice, at least that's what you were telling him. 

Wonwoo knew better. 

“Go get it and open it,” Wonwoo said with a soft smile on his lips, laughing when he heard your annoyed groan.

He waited patiently for you to find the book and discover a photo booth picture you thought you had lost a while ago. You took it on one of your first dates, and Wonwoo knew how much you loved that photo, so he was over the moon when he found it laying under the bookshelf when he was cleaning your room. 

“How? What? Wonwoo?” you gasped, and he couldn’t help but laugh at your surprised reaction. 

“I found it some time ago, but forgot to tell you.”

He heard you sigh quietly, and from what he could judge it wasn’t a happy sigh. “Now I feel even more alone.” 

“Baby,” Wonwoo murmured, his tone matching your sad one. “We only have a week left, you won’t even notice when I’ll be back.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

And if you hurt me That's okay, baby, only words bleed Inside these pages, you just hold me And I won't ever let you go

“You said you’d be home!” 

This wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go, not at all. You had been planning this date for a while now - it wasn’t anything big, just a homemade dinner and a movie, but any moment spent together was special for you, so it didn’t really matter what you did. And what could be better than to prepare a nice meal together and then eat it cuddled under fluffy blankets, while watching a bad movie you could both make fun of. 

If only Wonwoo’s practice didn’t run late. 

“I’m sorry, but I told you my phone ran out of battery," he said, pointing at his dead phone helplessly. “And we really were busy, baby. You know how the comeback season is,” he sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. 

“I know, but if you really cared about me you’d make sure to at least text me. I was waiting for four hours Wonwoo, it’s literally 1 am!” You said, your tone getting angrier and angrier. 

Wonwoo understood why you were angry, he wasn't surprised, but he thought that maybe you would be a little more understanding. On the other hand, he knew how much you were looking forward to this date, he was waiting for it himself, and the fact that he didn't even text you certainly didn't make the situation better. 

“Sweetheart, please,” he tried reaching for your hand, but the second his fingers touched yours you pulled away. 

“You're a bad boyfriend Wonwoo, you ditched me like I was nothing.” 

Your voice was full of venom and Wonwoo couldn't help the slight pain he felt in his chest. Your words when you were angry always hurt him like hell, but he didn't expect to hear something like that. He knew you didn't mean it, of course you didn't - you were angry, tired, hungry, and Wonwoo knew it was pointless to blame you for your words. He loved you too much to do it. 

But before he could say anything, he felt your arms around his neck. 

“I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I didn’t mean it, I’m so stupid,” you mumbled into his neck. “I love you, I’m sorry,” you kept repeating. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he ran his hand over your arm, cradling the back of your head with the other. “We both messed up a bit, but it’s okay, baby.” 

“I'm just afraid that one day I'll say something stupid enough to make you leave me,” you whispered, as if you were afraid that if you said it a little louder, your words would become true.

"Just hold me, baby, and I promise I'll never let you go."

Now Wonwoo would give anything to hear even the worst insults about him from you. He tilted the glass to his mouth, which turned out to be empty - just like the whiskey bottle he had taken from Mingyu, not that the younger minded. Or maybe he did, but Wonwoo didn't care much. He snorted and put the empty glass on the night table, from which he took a photo framed in a black frame instead.

Your faces were covered with a white face masks and your heads were adorned with pink cat headbands, and even though you were definitely too close to the camera, to the point where the photo was blurry and unclear, Wonwoo could still see your wide smile perfectly. 

It was from the date Wonwoo surprised you with a few days after your failed one. It was one of the best nights of his life.

Oh, you can fit me Inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen Next to your heartbeat where I should be Keep it deep within your soul

“You know my ex boyfriend got me this, right?” You raised an eyebrow at him, looking at him sceptically.

“Baby, you were sixteen then,” Wonwoo flicked your nose. "I will not be jealous of your great love at the age of sixteen."

You muttered something under your breath, frowning at him adorably. “If you want, I can buy you a new one,” he said, pointing to your necklace.

“No,” you muttered, not looking at him. Cute. "I like it."

"Exactly, so stop whining and let me put the picture in," he couldn't help but smile as he looked at the photo of himself in your necklace, resting right above your heart.

“You picked out the worst picture of me there is, I hate you,” you groaned, hitting your head against his chest.

“Well, I love it, and that’s what matters. Now,” Wonwoo grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles. "I’ll always be with you."

When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me Under the lamppost back on Sixth street Hearing you whisper through the phone "Wait for me to come home"

Wonwoo looked around his bedroom with droopy eyes (was it from crying, alcohol or tiredness he didn't know), which less than three weeks ago was full of life - full of you. 

The knowledge that he would never see you again weighed on him like a stone on his heart, but even so - Wonwoo didn’t want to forget you, no matter how much it hurt. He wasn't even sure he could even if he wanted to, you were present in every corner of this room - your pillow still smelled of your perfume, there were your skincare products on his desk, which you never kept in the bathroom for some reason, and your sweater was still lying on the back of the chair in the corner because you were too lazy to put it in the wardrobe. 

Wonwoo grabbed his phone with a trembling hand, its screen lighting up and displaying a wallpaper with a photo of you that he took right before he left for the tour. You were in bed, your hair messy and dishevelled, your eyes still closed and your lips in a sweet pout - you didn't even know he took the photo, but Wonwoo couldn't help himself. 

"Won, you said you'd wake me up," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow and duvet that covered almost your entire head.

“But you're not sleeping,” he said quietly with a smile, brushing strands of hair from your face.

You murmured something, pulling the covers over your head. Wonwoo couldn't help but laugh at your silly antics - he loved how clingy you got whenever he had to leave early in the mornings, you were like a cuddly teddy bear that wanted all the hugs in the world. “You know what I mean. I wanted to help you get ready to leave,” you complained from under the covers.

"I love you, baby, and I love it when you help me, but right now I'd much rather have you get some sleep."

“But I'm going to miss you,” you groaned, poking your head out from under the covers.

“It's only a week and a half,” he said and kissed your forehead gently.

Unconsciously, Wonwoo raised his fingers to his lips. Was that really your last kiss?

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, running a hand over his face. There was one more thing he had left of you - your voicemails. With a shaky finger he pressed on the last voicemail you sent him, a day before he broke up with you. The second he heard your voice it was like he magically sobered up - his mind was clear as day, and it immediately took him back in time to when the only thing he looked forward to was coming home to you. 

"Hi baby, I know you’re sleeping already, but I just wanted to record a little message, so you have something nice to wake up to. These first few days apart are so hard, I really miss you, especially at night. I got so used to our little bedtime routine that the house feels so quiet and empty without you, like something is missing, you know? You’re going to call me a hypocrite, but you know what else I’m missing right now? The light from your computer when you game late at night and I can’t sleep because of it. Or how I have to beg for you to come to bed for at least two hours, before you finally do. (laugh). I really do miss your bed hair, though. Now with them being so long too, you look so cute. (laugh)."

"But you know, last night, and don’t make fun of me, but I had to put on your hoodie to sleep because I missed your smell, I thought about the first time you left for tour since we got together. I remember how you walked me home after our date because it was late, and you were so adorably awkward. You still are. Anyways, we stood under that lamppost right by my house, and we were talking for a bit, and I remember how sad I was that you had to leave. I know you were too but didn’t want to show it, my strong baby. And then you kissed me. (pause) I will always remember how you kissed me under that lamppost. And how you said “wait for me to come home”. "

"I’ll always wait for you, Wonwoo. No matter what."

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my love, mine all mine

a/n: happy valentine's my angel @astraystayyh and my star @forlix <333 (this is not my best work but be kind to me i wrote it in a rush because i wanted it to be READY FOR YOU TODAY)

hyunjin setting up the perfect valentine's day for you

warnings: fem!reader, 2.3k

genre: fluff, est. relationship

you wake up on valentine’s day the same as you do any other day - a little grumpy, a lot tired, and above all wanting to close your eyes for just a few more minutes. 

it takes you longer to admit to drag yourself into the shower and get dressed, but you give yourself credit for doing it before noon; you weren’t a morning person by nature. 

you didn’t feel any particular way about valentine’s day - you’ve never had a valentine, never been in a serious enough relationship to where you felt it needed to be celebrated. you had whispered this to hyunjin a few days ago, cuddled into his chest at night, but beyond that you hadn’t really thought about it much. 

it seems that hyunjin had, though, seeing as your living room floor was covered in red rose petals. a single, small. pink gift bag sat on the coffee table and you couldn’t help the jaw-aching smile that you were wearing. there was no sign that he was still there, his shoes were absent at the door and the absent-minded humming he habited wasn’t reaching your ears. he must have used the spare key to come in and set this up before work, and the idea of him coming over to do this and letting you sleep in on your day off was so sweet you thought you might get a toothache from it. 

you walk to the center of the room to open the gift, on your tiptoes to avoid stepping on the sweet smelling petals scattered on the carpet. your mouth drops into an O shape when a single piece of paper is revealed at the bottom of the bag. 

put these coordinates into your maps, it reads, and you frown in confusion. you do it, and an address pops up that you’ve never seen before. you assume he wants you to go there, but why? he was at work, wasn’t he?

your short walk there leads you to a coffee shop just a few blocks away from your apartment, a small family-owned one that you had been meaning to try for weeks. it’s cozy, with paper hearts and flowers decorating the place and chalkboard menus advertising sweet sounding valentine’s lattes. 

“this is for you,” the server at the counter tells you as you approach to order, holding out a paper cup and a neatly folded paper bag. you take the items from her, inspecting them carefully. the cup has earl gray tea latte scrawled onto its side, and the bag contains a mouth-watering pastry dotted with bits of almond and chocolate. what is this?

“how much do i owe…?” you look back up at the server as she turns to return to stocking the pastry case, and her ponytail swishes as she faces you. 

“it’s taken care of,” she winks at you, smiling. “someone really loves you, huh?”

“yeah,” your heart swells as you take a seat in the corner of the shop to enjoy your breakfast. “he does.”

you sip on your tea slowly, people watching as the thought of hyunjin rushing here after stopping at your place to give them your order warming you from the inside out. an elderly couple comes in next, hand in hand as they place an order. a young man stops by, holding a bouquet of flowers and blushing as he asks for two strawberry-chocolate mochas. 

several people later, you stand up to recycle the cup and empty paper bag, walking out the door as you take your phone out to send hyunjin an aggressive thank-you text.

“wait!” the server calls after you, and you stop in your steps as she jogs to catch up with you. “i forgot to give you this.”

she stretches her hand out towards you, a small gift bag identical to the one you’d found in your apartment dangling off of her fingers. 

“oh, thank you,” you say, blinking at the bag as she disappears almost as quickly as she came. 

get in the car, it reads. you glance up just as a sleek black sedan pulls up next to you, the tinted passenger side window rolling down to reveal seungmin. 

“what is this?” you pop your head into the window, sending a glare at him as if that would make him talk. if there is anyone who will keep a secret to the death, it’s kim seungmin. 

“the note says to get in the car,” he rolls his eyes, unlocking the door so you could slide in next to him. “we don’t want to be late.”

“late to what?” you ask, but he ignores you in favor of turning the music up. it’s playing a song from your favorite artist, one that you know seungmin doesn’t listen to. 

he rolls the car to a stop on a familiar street downtown and he finally smiles at you as he unlocks the doors again. 

“we’re here,” he says, then exits the car to hop around to your side to open the door for you. “enjoy the rest of your day, madam.”

“what a gentleman,” you tease him, taking his hand as he helps you out of the car. 

“for the woman of honor? it’s my pleasure,” before you could ask him what he meant by honor, he’s hopping back into his car and driving off. 

this is weird. right?

he had dropped you off right in front of your regular nail salon. as you’re waiting by the door, conflicted over whether you should go in or not, one of the technicians opens the door, waving at you to come in. 

“hi,” you greet her, “i was, well. driven here? but i don’t have an appointment.”

“of course you have an appointment,” she grins, white teeth flashing at you. “for right now. come right this way!”

she leads you to a chair, and your favorite tech exits out the staff room in the back and sits across the table from you. 

“hi beautiful,” she says, and the familiarity of her tampers down the overwhelming feeling that had been creeping up on you. “full set, right? what color?”

“oh, i wasn’t really prepared…” you think of your dwindling bank account and grimace. “maybe just polish? dark red, though.”

“oh don’t worry,” she winks at you before getting her materials set up at the station. “it’s been paid in advance.”

as she gets to work on your nails, you can’t help the all-consuming rush of affection that surges through you. when had hyunjin had time to plan all of this? 

you thank everyone profusely once she’s done, marveling at your new set of nails. you’re not as surprised this time when the girl who had waved you in earlier hands you a small, now familiar gift bag. 

the next stop leads you to a hair salon, one that you’ve never been to if only because it was so expensive. designer products lined the walls for purchase, plush leather seats were placed in front of lit up floor to ceiling mirrors - it was like a palace. 

you’re the only customer there, which surprised you. it was valentine’s day, didn’t others want to get their hair done too? 

you couldn’t complain though, especially when the hair stylist asks you what you wanted done and listened to you with rapt attention. the lack of anyone else there was a welcome surprise. 

the stylist washes your hair, the water she uses somehow the perfect temperature for you. her fingers move in expert motions, relaxing you and making you melt into the chair. 

she walks you over to her station and gets started on blow-drying your wet hair, and man approaches with a basket full of makeup. he wordlessly brushes it on, making gentle swiping motions across your eyelids and cheeks that almost feel like hyunjin’s eyelashes fluttering against your skin. 

they work in amazing synchronization, so in tune with one another that you’re a little overwhelmed by the time they finish. 

“you look divine,” the man compliments, high-fiving the hair stylist over your head. 

“like a princess,” the woman nods, turning you towards the mirror and - oh. you do look amazing, soft waves framing your face and neutral tones accenting your eyes. 

“thank you so much,” you gush, marveling at how the blush and highlight adorning your cheeks turn brighter when you smile. 

“it’s our pleasure,” the makeup artist replies, patting your shoulder. “you were wonderful to work on. come back anytime.”

“let me guess,” you can’t help the smile from leaving your face. “it’s taken care of?”

the man nods as the hair stylist hands you the gift bag you were already expecting. 

this time it tells you to cross the street, and a quick glance shows a small row of shops. there’s a tiny number scribbled on the corner of the slip of paper, and it matches up with the number on top of one of the shops. it was a small boutique, less flashy than any of the places you've been directed to all day. 

this stop is more of a quick affair, a young girl greeting you like she knew you and ushering you into a changing room where a shoe box is waiting on a stool and a garment bag hangs on a hook. you unzip it to reveal a beautiful red dress, flowy fabric falling like waterfalls off of the hanger. 

you put it on and it fits you like a well-worn ring, complimenting your figure like it was tailored specifically for you. the heels are a perfect fit too, and you almost feel like cinderella waiting to meet your prince. the girl is waiting outside when you step out, and you feel the urge to hide from her when she fixes you with a scrutinizing look.

“how do i look?” you ask her, and her face breaks out into a beam towards you. 

“you look phenomenal,” she gushes, twirling you around so she could see every angle. “he chose so well, the dress compliments you perfectly.”

“my clothes?” you turn back to get them, but she stops you with a hand on your elbow. 

“don’t worry about them, they’ll get back to you,” she walks you towards the door. “he’s right next door - don’t be late!”

you take a deep breath as you exit the shop, your fingers wringing together with unexpected nerves. why are you nervous? hyunjin had created the perfect day for you - finally seeing him would be the icing on the perfect cake. you push through the nerves as you push open the door, and you cant help but gasp in wonder when you take in the interior. 

it looks like an abandoned storefront, remodeled to make a whimsical scene. there’s strings of fairy lights lining the brick walls, creeping around green vines that make the space look like something out of a storybook. rose petals, the same ones from this morning, line a trail towards a small table in the center of the room. candles shone on top of it, two glasses of freshly poured wine glinting in the firelight, and next to the table is a man who’s been waiting eagerly. 

it’s hyunjin, standing tall with a deliciously fitted suit framing his body and a single rose held in his hand. you walk towards him, your heels clicking on the floor as you try not to trip in your rush to fall into his arms. 

“you did all this? the whole thing?” you ask, willing the tears to stay in your lids as to not mess up your freshly done makeup. out of all the things you’ve done today, getting to stand in the circle of his arms is by far the best part. 

“of course i did,” he rubs a hand up and down your spine, letting the tips of his fingers trace across the zipper there. “i wanted to make this day perfect.”

“i loved it,” you pull away to look him in the eyes. “i love you. i would have loved it if you showed in sweatpants up with takeout too.”

“i know,” he looks at you with an overwhelming amount of fondness brimming in his eyes. “but you’re special. i wanted to do something that showed you how special you are.”

“you’re a real life prince, did you know that?” you lay a light smack on his chest, so overfilled with happiness that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“well, if i’m a prince,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, then to your forehead. “then you’re my princess.”

he pulls something out of his pocket and fastens it behind your neck, and you look down as a light weight settles between your collarbones. it’s a necklace, a dainty H hanging off of a chain, a single stone nestled in the middle of the pendant. 

“this is too much,” you pout, much too pleased to actually throw a fuss. you know he loves you, and you know how he loves.

“nothing is too much when it comes to you,” his voice is fragile and honest, and you can’t help but kiss him, giggling when you pull away and he chases after you.

he holds out the chair closest to you and pushes it in for you, dashing to the other side to sit down himself. he drops his hand to the table, upturned with his fingers splayed, and you take the message to intertwine your fingers with his as you take a sip of the sweetest wine that has ever touched your lips. 

he doesn’t let go of your hand for the entire night. 

♡‧₊◜ i just want you to be you changbin x gn!reader

summary: changbin <3 body worship <3 that's it <3

word count: 3.5k words

author's note: this is truly just one long love letter to changbin <3 i adore him more than life itself and I hope he is loved like this because he deserves it. inspired by this ask from @penny44224. for extra effect, listen to pretty by col3trane

warnings: oral, some biting, nipple play, a moment of insecurity, lots of loving ❤️‍🩹

skzms' masterlist

Changbin sighs into your lips as he lets himself drop onto the bed backwards, the hands that were holding you up in his arms winding around your waist as you catch yourself above him, straddling his waist, your palms firmly planted on either side of his head.

Changbin lets his now aimless hands run up the back of your plush thighs, over the stupidly sexy curve of where they meet your ass, fingers briefly hooking into the back pockets of your jeans to pull you closer against him. You part from him enough to breathe a giggle into his mouth, and he can’t help the endeared smile that spreads over his lips in return. He feels you pull back and pouts, expels a tragicomic whine that pulls another giggle out of you, just like he wanted.

He blinks open his eyes and sees you hovering above him, the remnants of your smile still stuck to the corners of your mouth and eyes, crinkling and sparkling, and his heart skips an uneven beat because this is real, you’re real. You’re the prettiest thing he has ever seen in his entire life, and you’re also his soulmate, and you somehow found him and asked him out, the one fateful, sunny day two years ago, and he somehow managed to woo you and not let his crazy, messy life chase you away, and now you’re here, looking like some kind of angel, smiling down at him with a love in your eyes that he had never even dared to dream he could experience, and you’re real.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you giggle breathlessly, your pretty eyes blinking bashfully

You’re the love of my life. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve to be loved by you. I want to marry you one day, if you’ll have me.

“Just thinking about how well those new earrings you’re wearing today compliment your eyes,” he hums and watches your whole face light up with another laugh that makes his heart want to explode out of his chest.

“Shut up,” you mumble and dip back down, the touch of your lips against his only a whisper. His smile is involuntary, his fingertips have a mind of their own as he trails them over your ass and ghosts them over the exposed skin of your waist. He leans up, catches your lips with his, kisses you like a man starved; because even though he had you last night, woke up to you this morning, just went to a fancy sushi dinner with you, he feels starved; starved for you, your candy sweet lips, silky sweet body, preening for your attention.

When you pull back and look at him, let your eyes drag over his face, bring one hand up to push a strand of his hair from his forehead, he feels your attention like a physical ache. Heat and sweetness, his insides turning into molten chocolate. He wants to drown in the way you make him feel.

You lean down again, press another achingly sweet kiss to his lips, but when he chases you, you push him back and sit up. His heart flutters in his chest.

He wishes he could take a picture of you on top of him right now, legs folded on either side of his hips, both your palms now resting on his stomach. There’s a gorgeous flush on your cheeks, your eyebrows drawn together, a pretty little pout of determination on your lips. He would kiss it away, if your soft hands weren’t holding him down. Oh, they’re holding him down. His cock twitches expectantly.

The determination sticks to your face as you let your hands trail down, dip between the buttons of his shirt, ghosting over his skin.

“Changbinnie, …” you breathe. It’s so soft, Changbin forgets how to breathe for a second.

“What, baby?”

You blink up at him. The furrow between your brows is still there, and he lifts his hand, gently soothes over it with his thumb. It melts under his touch.

“I love you, you know,” you murmur, and the smile that stretches over his face is blinding.

“I know, baby,” he hums. He cups his hand over your jaw, smoothes his thumb over the soft skin of your cheek. “I love you, too.”

“No,” you mumble, shaking your head, and he falters.

“Binnie, I love you,” you say, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his open palm, “I love you so much more than you could ever understand.”´

Changbin swears his heart might give out.

Carefully, you place his hand back on the mattress before you bring your lithe fingers to his buttons, undoing them one by one, carefully, reverentially. When his shirt is all the way undone you sweep the material to the side, exposing the muscular swell of his chest, the soft rippling of his stomach, decidedly abs-less. But before he can start spiralling, you dip down, pressing a kiss to his left collarbone.

“You are …” you murmur, pressing another kiss to the other side, to balance it out, “you are so fucking beautiful.”

Your hands trail up his side softly and it feels so incredibly tender. You leave a haphazard path of kisses over his chest, down his sternum, onto his pecs. His muscles jump when you rub your nose against his skin before gently dragging your lips over his nipple.

The sensation makes pleasure spark through his veins, and Changbin breathes out a shaky sigh of your name.

“So fucking sensitive, too,” you whisper, your sweet hot tongue coming out to lave at him, and he can’t hold back the moan it pulls from him.

You take your time, give his other nipple the same attention, thumbs rubbing comforting circles into his hips. Then you abruptly sit up, and it takes everything in Changbin not to whine at the loss. He feels high-strung, vulnerable, altogether laid bare in front of you, just from this, the barest of your touches against his chest. You tug him up to a half seat only long enough to tug his shirt off of his arms and cup his face, pressing a reassuring kiss to his parted lips, before you guide him down again.

You pick up his hand, massaging it softly between your fingers as you look at it reverently.

“I love your hands,” you murmur, “you’re so, so gentle, do you know that? I have never been touched with so much love and care before you came along.”

His heart aches and goosebumps break out, racing from where you’re touching him for reverently all the way down his arm and over his back.

“Your touches carry so much of your love, for me, for everyone,” you conclude before you press another soft kiss to his palm, let your lips trail down over his sensitive wrist, where he’s sure his pulse is thundering under the thin skin. But you don’t seem to notice, or if you do, you don’t seem to care, ghosting your lips up the expanse of the inside of his arm until he’s shivering with sensitivity.

“God, your arms,” you whisper, and he can hear the shimmer of arousal in your voice. “I love how they look, how they feel around me. Make me feel so safe. And you’re so strong, so fucking strong, it’s so fucking sexy.”

One of your arms wraps around his, palms sliding down his shoulder, over his biceps, before you lean down and press a long kiss to the skin, nosing at the swell of his muscles, before you suddenly sink your teeth into it. Changbin’s back nearly arches off the bed, the pinpricks of pain shooting straight to his cock. You soothe over the skin with your tongue and he whimpers quietly. You place more pecks up his arm until you reach his shoulder.

You take a brief detour, nosing into the crook of Changbin’s neck.

“I love the smell of your skin,” you mumble, “especially when you didn’t shower yet. You smell so good, so cozy. You smell like home.”

Your soft cheek brushes against his as you kiss him there softly, breathing in his scent, and Changbin can feel tears prick at his eyes. He blinks them away fiercely.

You pull back, hovering over him, and all he can do is stare. There’s something so incredibly tender in your eyes, but it’s mixed with a hunger that makes every cell in his body ache for you.

The ache gets worse when you lean in and only press the ghost of a kiss to the corner of his mouth, a devastating little sigh falling from your lips as you place more kisses on his face, one on the tip of his nose, one on the little scar on his chin, one on the mole on his earlobe that makes more him shiver again, one on each cheek before you lean up and press your lips to his forehead gently.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” you mumble when you pull back, your eyes racing over his face, “like, you’re handsome, but you’re also absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.”

“Shut up,” he whispers, his voice a shaky mess, trying to turn his face away from you because God, he doesn’t know if he can handle this; his heart feels about ready to burst out of his chest. But you shake your head, grab his chin gently, and turn him back to you, rubbing your nose against his with a dopey little smile, and he breathes out a disbelieving laugh.

“You know what my favourite part is?” you ask quietly, still smiling. He shakes his head.

“Your eyes,” you rub a thumb over his temple, “they can be so soft, so loving, but they can also be strong and assertive and … do you have any idea how much respect you command just by looking at people?”

You chuckle lightly.

“Like, tonight, when the waiter accidentally tipped over my water? You gave him such a serious look, and he was so intimidated, he actually panicked. He apologised to me again later when I was getting the bill. Gave me one of those candies from the jar they keep around for the children.”

Changbin blinks stupidly, an utterly unbidden blush rising into his cheeks, torn somewhere between uncertainty about seeming intimidating and a deep satisfaction that he was able to … he doesn’t know what it is. Protect you? Provide for you?

You smooth your thumb over his temple again before you lean back and move to sit between his legs. But this time he doesn’t have to miss the warmth of your body long because you recommence your journey down his chest, pressing more soft kisses to his skin, over his pecs and down, shuffling down the bed until you can you reach his stomach.

He feels the need to suck it in, pull it back so maybe you can at least see the traces of his abs, but you send him a glare.

“Stop doing that,” you mumble, smoothing your hands over his waist, thumbs digging into his skin, into the swell of his flesh. He lets out a breath, and you hum your approval, leaning down to rest your face against his stomach gently, your hands still running up and down his sides. Not even his self-consciousness could distract him from just how close your pretty face is to his cock now.

“I love this the best,” you sigh, pressing soft kisses to the swell of pudge right underneath his belly button, “the skin is so soft here. It’s also where my hand lands when I turn to wrap my arm around you at night. Though then, it’s always slightly cold, so I always try to pull your shirt down. But you’re always so wrapped up in it …”

The first tear falls from his eyes without Changbin being able to do anything about it. It trails down his temple silently, drips into his hair. If you notice it, you mercifully don’t comment, nuzzling your face into his stomach more, pressing a litany of kisses all over it.

“It’s stupid, you know, to think that I wouldn’t love that part of you. I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you to be you. I don’t care about abs.”

He can’t fight the sob now, his eyes screwed shut as you press more kisses into his skin. You say his name softly, and he shakes his head, presses the heels of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

“I’m fine, baby, I’m sorry,” he stammers out. He tries to take a deep breath, to ground himself, and it soothes him a little. Though his whole body still feels like a live wire under your attention. “I’m sorry.”

You shush him gently, your fingers wrapping around his wrists and tugging his away from his face. You wipe his tears away with all the tenderness in the world.

“Don’t be sorry, okay? Do you want me to stop?” you ask gently, and he almost sobs again. He feels so loved and it makes his heart ache. What has he done to deserve a love like this?

He forces himself to shake his head.

“N-no, please, I … I don’t know if that was the intention, but I’m so fucking hard I think I might die if you don’t touch me soon.”

You throw your head back and laugh, and he can’t help the smile that spreads over his face. He hiccups out a frail laugh.

“Of course that was the intention, you big dummy,” you chide, winding your fingers into his hair and pulling him into a kiss so dizzying he has to wrap his arms around you and pulls you closer, kissing you back so hard your teeth click together and his toes curl in his socks. You lick into his mouth and he can smell your perfume and taste your lip balm, and he swears to whoever is listening to him that he will protect you, he will love you until the end of fucking time.

All too soon, you pull back again, a smile on your lips as you carefully unwind yourself from him. He pouts and this time you giggle and kiss it, and he feels like he has won the lottery. He smiles up at you dumbly, though that smile slips from his lips when you slide down his body and off the bed

You get up off the bed, pulling your jeans off your body, Changbin’s eyes glued to your legs as soon as they’re exposed to him. He wishes he could glide his palms over the warm, silky softness of them, but he stays put for you. You press another kiss to his belly as you undo his slacks, before tapping his hips to ask him to lift them, and then you yank his slacks and boxers off his body in one confident, smooth motion, dropping them on the floor next to the bed unceremoniously, your eyes roving over his entire body in a way that makes Changbin feel more naked than he has ever felt. But something about it also makes him even harder, his cock leaking pathetically where it bobs against his abdomen.

He props himself up on his elbows when get back on the bed and lean down, watches breathlessly as you gingerly pick up his leg, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of his calf. He’s done this to you a million times, usually before burying himself between your legs for hours, but when you do it to him, it’s … almost embarrassing. That, and maybe he’s also just a little bit impatient.

He no longer knows if it’s because he’s blushing or because you’re plain magic, but you pick up on it immediately, sending him a sweet smile and a wink, before trailing kisses further and further up his calf, up the sensitive inside of his knee, where you let them linger until his legs are covered in goosebumps, and he thinks he might go insane.

“Please,” he breathes, and you giggle happily. He sends you a glare, one you answer with a soft bite to the inside of his thigh that makes him nearly jump off the bed.

“Let me love on you, my sweet boy,” you mumble and soothe your tongue over the red bite mark. “Let me give these beautiful legs of yours some love. So fucking delicious, so thick and strong and …” You suck a deep red mark just above his knee that makes Changbin’s back arch off the bed, his cock twitching helplessly. “… and so sensitive, fuck,” you finish breathlessly, before you dip down again.

With every kiss, every drag of your tongue against the sensitive skin of his thigh, every deep mark you suck into his skin that makes him writhe and moan underneath you, you tattoo your love into his body, his soul, until all he can focus on is you, the ache of his arousal, the burn of tears in his eyes, the ache in the knuckles of his fingers where they’re fisted into the sheets, all just for you. You worship your way closer and closer, until your breath ghosts over his hips and you sink your sinful mouth down again, sucking a deep red hickey right into the V of his abdomen, and he sobs loudly, his cock drooling out a steady stream of precum that he would be embarrassed about any other day. But now, all it does is make him desperate enough to beg.

“My sweet angel, please,” he hiccups, lifting his head just enough to see you, your eyes hazy as you stare up at him, and he swears he will not make it. Your hand rubs up his thigh, and he hiccups. “Please, I need you … need you so bad.”

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” you hum gently, sinfully, and he watches with bated breath as you dip down, stick out your tongue and finally, god, finally lick a fat stripe up his cock.

His head thuds against the mattress. And then your plush lips wrap around his cock and the wet, slick heat envelops him, and he thinks he may black out, his whole body thrumming with an otherworldly sense of pleasure.

You sink down further with every bob, until he’s buried almost all the way in your velvety, hot mouth, and he moans out, much too loud for the time of night, but how could he care; when your heavenly mouth is drawing pleasure from his body like this and your tongue is doing that thing every time you pull up, and you love him so much …

God, you love him.

It’s too much, and before he knows it, there are more tears trailing down his temples and his abdomen pulls taut.

You pull off him, just for a second, your talented hand stroking him when you whisper his name, voice rough from use. He cracks his eyes open and nearly screws them shut again because you, fuck, you look the picture of heavenly debauchery, your lips so swollen and slick. But then you stick out your tongue, coyly, sink him back into your mouth and trail your other slick hand down to his balls, and he’s done for.

He swears his world tilts on its axis when he cums, his vision whiting out, a high-pitched, wrecked wail tearing out of his throat as he spills into your mouth without warning. Tears are running down his cheeks, his eyes rolling into the back of his head until they finally slip shut, his whole body going slack. Distantly, he registers your soothing hands running over his legs, his hips, his waist, but he’s floating, somewhere, not here.

When you swallow around him, his entire body seizes with the sensitivity, the aftershocks of the best orgasm of his life racking through his body like tremors of lightning. He’s seized with a need to touch you, to hold you closer, to make you see…

His hands unwind from the sheets, and he reaches out for you blindly until he finds your arm and pulls you up, blinking his eyes open blearily as he settles you into his side. He winds a hand into your hair possessively, pulling you until your forehead is resting against his, his other hand curling around your hips. He wants to say so many things, about you, about what you mean to him, what you do to him. But in the end they all fail him.

“I love you so much, you hear me?!” he mumbles. His voice is shot, but the intensity of his words nevertheless seems to shimmer through because he watches you swallow thickly, gaze flickering to his lips. He tightens his hand on your head, flips you until you’re underneath him. You’re beautiful there, pretty and pliant, wide eyes swimming with arousal as his strong arms caging you in.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you so, so much, and I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You smile, and the sight of it shouldn’t make his cock fill out again already, but it does.

He leans down, kisses you hard and sweet.

“But now, let me make love to you.”

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

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