Mingi X You - Tumblr Posts

Hi! are u still accepting requests?

i love your badboy wooyoung fic <3, by any chance could you write a Mingi x reader? where they're both dance teachers at summer camp and every one teases them but kinda enemies to lovers thats the main idea, you can add anything u want <3, but i i'm tired of the shy innocent reader i want tension >:(

I’m in love…

Pairing: dance teacher! Mingi x dance teacher! reader (ft. Heesung my love)

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, summer camp au

W.C: 4.8k

Warnings: nothing major, just a story of two person oblivion to each other’s feelings and falling in love after a dance.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. ngl but my next fic in queue was again angst but I am posting this on @mymoodwriting her suggestion and as I love my bestie too much so I have posted this first.

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“Cheers for the winning team ‘Blockbusters’!”

The winner team cheered with the trophy in their leader’s hand and their dance teacher smiling widely with the students surrounding you in a cheering circle. All filling you with thankful and funny words making your smile wider. Afterall, the win they got was only because of you. You were the one who worked hard for the ideas and choreographies to be on the point so that your students could win the competition and then there was the result of the first week dance competition of your team being the winner.

Your youngest student hugged your side and some awed at you as if you were his older sister. You patted his head and urged everyone else to have their snacks provided at the counter as they already were so tired and hungry. The youngest one ran fast with his friend and you laughed looking at them all cheering and joking in their way towards the food counter.

The leader had already handed you the trophy and you stared at it in your hold. Their every achievement always felt like your own and it really feels good every time. Your dream to become a dance trainer at a big training company was slowly being achieved step by step. Small steps from these summer camps to state challenges and then country recognition and then one day, you will be a part of the dance trainer crew of your dream company.

You smiled to yourself and shook your head to dismiss the thoughts. Placing the trophy on the table as you turned around, only to come face to face with the man with folded hands above his buff chest, sleeves of white shirt folded till elbow and a denim bottom and striking the appearance with a black sunglass.

Always extra…but always perfect.

“Aren’t you too happy just for a win in a summer camp competition?” he asked you and walked towards you.

You glanced towards the cafeteria and smiled, “of course, every small thing matters to me. It’s not like if I want to do something big, it can possibly be achieved out of nowhere.”

He scoffed, “it was just a little competition. You haven’t won the state or country ones. Just among the few schools who gathered in this camp.”

“if it’s really nothing then why are you so pissed, Mingi. Work harder. Maybe next time, you gotta smiling in my position.” You smirked in the end.

He swiftly moved the sunglass from the eyes to place it on the head, revealing his droopy eyes and his intimidating aura shining under the fading sunlight. However, he pisses you off every time but still he is always the most handsome dance teacher among the five schools. No wait, Heesung is there too but that one is a one bid flirty player and you can’t act like Ms. Sana who would give a blind eye to his flirty talks and still appreciating his visual and dance moves. Mingi and Heesung’s group always comes the finale ones to compete against each other but this time, your group beat the second group and was the one to compete with Mingi’s.

“Don’t be proud so much. I will surely win next time.” he stated and inserted his thumbs inside the jean’s pockets on both the side. His every moment was being getting noticed by you.

“Let’s see.” You winked at him before turning back to pick up the water bottle. Before you could even get a slight tip of it, someone took the bottle and held it up. You rolled your eyes before going for another but he did the same thing again. You glared and turned to your side.

“What’s your problem?” you exhaled and licked your lips.

“what’s with that attitude, y/n? You know I’m already a part of training agency so as well as Heesung so don’t even think yourself greater than either of us.” His droopy eyes piercing down on you.

You crossed your hands above your chest and huffed in annoyance. You looked over in a distant place, keeping your gaze away from him. He was almost towering over you. You could feel his perfume directly and he was close enough than other times. But to your oblivion, his gaze was fixed on you, eyes scanning every little texture of your face. The tiny details of your make-up less features. Sweats lining your face and he felt an urge to wipe them off. He placed one bottle on the table to his side and offered the other one to you.

“drink it. You’re sweating and maybe thirsty.” He said in a monotonous way.

You squinted your eyes to judge his intention to which he just rolled his eyes, “are you somehow being a kind one, now? It’s very unusual of you.”

“Look y/n. don’t always get on my nerves. I was offering you this because you look like you can fall unconscious of exhaustion anytime. I don’t want to carry this weak body to the infirmary.” He almost rapped the words.

A frown appeared on your face, “weak? Me? Excuse me! but don’t think of me like Sana. I’m not that porcelain doll to break with a little push.” You snatched the bottle from his grip.

“then are you a dancing doll, y/n?” he laughed and smirked.

You hissed, “Mingi…”

“At this point, I must believe you both just find a reason to argue so that you can meet with each other. I am not surprised that I could find you guys here when everyone else is inside the main building.” Heesung’s voice coming from the way leading from the ground for physical activities. He was having a cheerful and flirty glint in his eyes.

He popped a chips inside his mouth and offered you one. You raised your hand to take it but the piece got taken away by Mingi and Heesung laughed loudly. You forcedly opened the sealed cap of the bottle and glared at both of them before gulping down the bottle, almost choking on it. The grip on the bottle was too tight, the victim of your anger.

“look, tell your friend Mingi not to piss me off everytime he sees me alone anywhere.” you said and started collecting your belongings from the table.

“my friend? Aren’t both of you friend as well?” Heesung asked and chuckled.

“Never!” “What?”

“oh Geez! Calm down. Don’t shout like teenagers. You both really hate each other. Anyways, y/n congratulations for the win. The dance moves and the centre choice were really nice. Your brain is sexy.”

Mingi scoffed and giving him a side eye, you replied to Heesung with a smile, “Thank you so much, Heesung. I’m glad you pointed out the main changes this year unlike someone who couldn’t even utter a simple congratulations to someone. Always a competitive one.”

“come on, Mingi. Kiss her and tell her that you really did love her dance moves. “

“yeah! It will be so nice to see a new couple in this camp.” Sana’s soft and cheerful voice neared you all. You looked over to her direction. She was already staring at Heesung who was glancing in her way. She pout and you shook your head in disbelief.

Them. not only them but other teachers present in the camp, even some older students urge you both every day to get together because according to them,

‘the people who fight on silly things are the real couples.’

How you despise this thought!

you grabbed your things and left the scenario with their eyes following your way. Heesung and Sana laughed but Mingi’s expression was serious, watching your figure intently getting away from the spot. He stepped forward when the other one stopped him and asked him to go with him towards the ground. He glanced towards your way but nodded to him and walked away.

He might be the one pissed you today but generally that was not his intention.

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Usually, the camps last for eight weeks for your school and same goes for the other schools present there as well but this time, it would be more than just eight weeks and you had to meet him more than usual. You groaned at the thought before plopping on the bed. The dance competition held was in the first week of the camp and there would be many other activities and competitions everyday and even if there’s respective teachers but you can’t just be free from any schedules as you need to be the assistant in some activities.

Every year after you joined this school, you always looked forward to this summer camps because in your childhood, you loved spending your days in summer camp and after joining this school as dance teacher, you got the chance to relive your childhood days again.

But the second year, you came across this particular person while you were cheering for few students who were competing with each other in a particular water activity. Someone stood beside you and boring hole onto your side, you previously brushed off the weird feeling but then when you looked at the person, you caught him staring at you. You furrowed your eyebrows and scanned his face because you never saw him earlier during any other activities and there was no new school or maybe you had forgot the person. Afterall, you were new and still learning many things. You licked your lips and tugged your hairs behind your ear, before sending him a small smile.

“Are you new here?” his voice was heavy and his look was so intimidating that you felt so small in front of him but you stood strong on your spot.

You nodded and replied, “yeah…I joined last year. And you?” you raised your hand for a shake but well he just stared at it. You waited for few seconds but when he didn’t raise his hand, you curled your fingers and retreated your hand by your side, suppressing your annoyance in the fist.

“are you the new dance teacher?” he asked again.

“yes. And you are?” you asked in an unsure tone, didn’t actually feel like he would reply you but surprisingly he did.

“I am the dance teacher from St. Joseph’s ‘Sparkling’ Team. Myself, Mingi.”

Oh great. So this man is a dance teacher like you. Well, his physique and appearance really did give off an idol image and you wont be surprise if he is secretly an idol or a trainee.

 You nodded, “y/n, from St. Mary’s ‘Blockbuster’ Team.”

And that’s it. There was an awkward silence between you both followed by the cheers of the students who were splashing water in the enjoyment of their win.

You smiled towards them and clapped your hands, similarly Mingi smiled a bit too but he was staring at you.

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The first meeting was usually a friendly one, maybe a not-so-friendly one but you were pretty much sure that the following events occurred after the meet was not in your checklist.

With passing of days, you noticed him more. He was a secretive person and even though he wanted something or wanted to express something, he would rather stay neutral in his expression but will encourage his students with warm and comforting words. Of course, him being the teacher of the opponent team sparked a curiosity inside you to know him better. Oh girl! How wrong you were that it was only you! But something similar thoughts came across his mind as well. Oblivion to each other, both of you started to get to know each other.

Starting from asking your colleagues or the close ones in the camps about each other then staring too long than usual and getting caught by each other. Bumping into each other and him blaming you for crossing his path. Well, it was all pretty much okay until you started noticing him around you more. And, people be enjoying such dramas a lot. They even started teasing you that both of you were attracted to each other but oblivion to your feelings.

“what are you doing here?” he asked you and with the tip of his boot, he played with a stone.

“I didn’t know you don’t have eyes to see. Maybe, you don’t have a brain to understand it.” You stifled your laugh and turned around with the mat in your hand.

He picked up the stone and threw in your direction. It hit your calve but it was too small to actually hit you painfully, but when you turned around to glare at him, irritated with his obvious daily mischievous acts, you found him smirking at you.

“I have my eyes on useful things not on these useless stuffs.”

“and, that is?” you raised a brow.

“why will I answer your questions, dancing doll?”

Dancing doll. Gosh, you hate this name the most. Yeah, your friends and colleagues sometimes love to call each other with few nicknames but his nickname, oh wait no no that’s not a nickname. He was literally mocking at you.

“I will turn you into a doll if you don’t stop calling me that name.” you glared and bumped his side before leaving him there.

He smiled to your act and whispered, “my eyes are always on you, doll.”

Whenever you both got to hear those teasing, your first move was to glare at him only to get a bored look from him. But are you really angry or just pretending to be?

Your pretending is not accurate then.

Same thing repeated in every summer. At this point, you were sure to throw him into water if next time, he irritates you again. You previously thought that meeting him was only limited to summer camps. But never expected out of nowhere, he will be in a common friend’s group. Yunho and Wooyoung both were your friends from the dance training club and when Mingi got to know that you are friends with his childhood friends, oh he got a damn excuse to meet you every weekend whenever you all made plans.

You were being caught staring at him a lot. Yunho even once tried to convince you to date his best friend because you were the right one for him and you threatened him that if he ever tried to convince you again then you will beat his ass. Or your usual sentence.

“Yunho, if you are so worried then bestfriends should help each other. Go and marry him.”

But actually deep down, you were freaking out with the thought of you and him together. You were sure on one thing that you did have a crush on him. Maybe not a huge one but almost like that. What about him though?

Oh about him? he might can kidnap you any day to keep you for himself. The way he glares at Heesung whenever he tries to flirt with you or tease you with sweet talks. The intrusive thoughts coming to his minds are dangerous but what can he even do? You are never his. But soon he will make it possible, not maybe apply those thoughts but to make you his.

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Next dance competition was in the end of the month and you had already taught them some of it but still some more practices were needed. Meanwhile, the students had some other stuffs to keep them engaged as well, like water activities, group projects, social activities and so on. Your love for water activities led you to have some fun with them as well. You were enjoying with the students in the pool activities when someone splashed into the water. You shielded your eyes with one hand and watched the person. And it reminded you of the first day, you met him.

“wow! The dive was so cool.” A student beside you cheered.

When the person raised his head from the water surface and pushed back his wet hairs. Oh you were losing yourself with the view. His white shirt with top three buttons undone and the water making it teasingly see through and sticking to his tanned skin with the broad chest view. The whistle sound made every student to run out of water and the sudden push made you slip your leg and there was nothing to hold to make you still but to your relief, you didn’t fall. A strong hand around your waist, pulling your side to his front.

“are you okay?”

You nodded and tried to push him away but he pulled you closer with your back pressed to the marble edges of the pool with him too close to your front.

“why are you running away?” he asked you slowly and brushed your hairs out of your face. His every touch hitching your breath and you caught his wrist when it stopped on your cheek.

“why are you doing this?” you asked him in return,

He chuckled, “doing what? Tell me you are not liking this.”

“and if I tell you no, then will your ego be hurt?” you raised a brow.

He smirked, “my ego won’t be hurt because no is not coming out of your pretty lips. It’s either stupid things or fake threats.”

“I swear, Mingi.”

He laughed at your response. But your moment soon got interrupted by Heesung.

“look, I should feel jealous of you to get her like this but as I’m already being aware of your relationship so I will let you have your fun but atleast come out of the water and go to your room. Children might see these unholy things.”

Mingi helped you out of the water and laughed. Why is he suddenly laughing? There was nothing to laugh about his speech.

“look, Heesung. Stop day dreaming about your online stories every time. There is no relationship between us.” You said and glared at them. Heesung snickered and suddenly got a call, before walking away he winked at you. You raised a fist towards him and he shook his head before turning back.

“go and get changed.” You turned your face when you felt his voice too close. He was close, towering over you with his big frame, shielding you from the direct sunlight. You stepped backward and he placed his palm on your lower back and pulled you. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your ears and before you could react to it, his cold lips touched your warm forehead. His slow breaths sent a chill shiver from top of your head to your toe, curling them tightly. His lips murmured to your skin, “I don’t want the dancing doll to fall sick.”

 He quickly stepped back and walked away to the ground, leaving you standing there too stunned to even move. You hugged yourself with your towel and went towards your room.

WHY DID HE KISS YOU?

It was already late for your arrival because you were practicing the steps to students on repeat and soon, you all were sitting around the fireplace. That was a free time for everyone and each one was having fun with some jokes or showing off their individual talents. You were so indulged in your thoughts about the afternoon kiss that you didn’t notice someone sat beside you and staring at your side.

He pinched your cheek and pulled you out of your thoughts. Rubbing the stinging area, you looked at him with a frown, “what?”

“Let’s dance.”

“are you serious right now?”

“more than you.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “why? Do you want to show others that even if your team lost last week but you are still the best dancer?”

“maybe something else.”

He replied you too fast and your heart beat increasing with each of his words. The more you were staring at him, the more intense the effect of the kiss was tingling on your forehead. His eyes were hiding a desire, a passion behind those dark orbs, his hooded eyes curtaining away the feelings for you just for a while. Heesung’s voice broke your eye contact with him. Mingi was craving to see your shining eyes looking back at him. He was feeling loved just by your eyes on him.

You swear you would make Heesung mute one day.

“Well Attention everyone. Why don’t we have something interesting?”

Everyone cheered to his announcement. You rolled your eyes already knowing some stupid words coming out of his mouth.

That man be really playing the cupid everytime.

“Let’s welcome our two best dancers Miss Y/N and Dancing king Mingi. Cheers everyone.” He clapped his hand and welcomed you both to the middle. You parted your lips to protest only to see an extended hand in front of you, your eyes followed the hand to his face.

“Mingi…”

“Come on, dancing doll.”

You hesitatingly grabbed his hand and stood up and went to the centre. You were never shy in public but today somehow every stare was making you anxious. Your grip tightened in his hold and his thumb caressed over your palm.

“let’s begin…”

Inception started playing and he was standing to your side but he was facing back to the crowd and you in front. He placed one hand above your chest, hovering over the collar bones and slowly whispered with the song, “I’m in love….” His eyes were on you.

Your wide eyes stared back at him in shock but still managed to change your position to the next step. Now you both were in exact opposite posture. You mouthed the lyrics, “I’m in love…” and looked towards him. He smiled in return. He quickly sat on one of his on the ground and you sat on the raised knee for mimicking the exact steps from the choreography. You swiftly moved to the side and he raised his hand in air and stood up and bringing it back to brush the fingers against his jaw and your breath hitched with the next step. As soon as you both faced each other, his fingers softly leaving feather touches on your cheek before retreating away.

The dance continued with you both doing the exact dance moves from the choreography but in each chorus, you were sure you lip synced the line, ‘I’m in love…’ but he lightly sang the part, ‘I’m gonna chase you..’

In the end when you both ended the dance with staring at each other. Everybody cheered for the strong and clean dance moves. Every one was sure that day that you both are the dancing king and queen of the camp.

But you both were sure with your feelings.

That you both were in love.

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.

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“wait, I need to talk to you.” Mingi grabbed your wrist and you were surprised with his sudden move. After the duet dance last week, you ignored him as much as you could but being in the same building it was not much possible and also, when a cupid is roaming around you.

“What?” you glanced at your watch. It was already past ten o’clock and you were heading towards your room.

A group of three teachers laughing and heading towards your direction made him quickly pull you towards the corner and pushed himself along with you inside the room. He signalled you to keep quiet and as soon as the group passed by the door. He sighed in relief.

“was that pull really necessary?”

“No. but to get away from their eyes was.”

“where are we? Whose room is this?” you looked around and was panicking how you entered a stranger’s room until he walked towards the edge of the bed and sat down.

“this is my room. Welcome to my room, dancing doll.”

“Can you please stop calling me that?”

“Maybe…yes…no. Never.”

You folded your hands in front and glared at him, “and can I know why are we here?”

He didn’t reply but ducked his head down and fiddling with his fingers. You waited for him to say something but nothing. He was acting as if you were not even standing just in front of him.

“If you don’t have anything to say, then I’m leaving.” You said and turned back. But his next words made you halted in your steps.

“I’m in love…with you, y/n.”

Did he just confess? You didn’t turn around because even if you wanted to give some savage reply to him, you felt yourself on the verge of lose of words. Nothing came across your mind to reject his confession. Your mind didn’t even think twice to realise if he was joking or teasing you or testing your reaction to it. You gulped and clenched your sweaty palm.

It was because you were in love with him too.

Someone engulfed you in a back hug and you leaned to the touch. You held his hand in front and closed your eyes. You didn’t know how to react, what to say, what to believe and what to feel. But somewhere you felt happy. Happy because the person you love has confessed his love for you.

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo and whispered into your hair, “please say something. Please talk to me, y/n.”

“what do you want to hear?” you said in a low and slow voice.

“anything. Whatever you want to say but please don’t be silent. I want to hear you.”

You gripped his wrist tighter, “Mingi…”

“hmmm” he closed his eyes, his nose intoxicated with your scent and natural smell and your presence in his hold making his heart beat faster than usual and lips murmuring something into your hairs which you couldn’t even decipher.

“I love you, Mingi.”

The words he wanted to listen and he got to listen. He swiftly turned you around and smiled down at you. You never saw him smiling genuinely at you. Well, maybe he smiled like this before but you didn’t notice before. You didn’t think of it like this, the way you were getting lost into the smile.

“Do you really love me?”

You whispered, “more than you can even think of.”

“I love you, Y/n. you cant even imagine how badly I want to have this moment with you. I didn’t even realise this until the dance that day that I was madly in love with you for last two years. It was all about my love for you.”

He kissed your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your forehead and stared at your lips. You nodded but still he hesitated. You placed your hands around his neck and pulled him into the most awaited kiss, raising yourself on your toe to match his level. The kiss of initiating a bond, the blooming of a young love. The lips danced with the swift rhythm matching with each other, the way your body moved accordingly and blending with each other’s move to the song. There was a passionate love in the kiss, like the way you both had passion for dance.

Slowly retreating from the kiss, your heels touched the ground. He again softly pecked on your lips, surprising you. He was drunk with your kiss. You smiled at him, he cupped your cheeks in his warm hands, your fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Mingi…I didn’t realise my love before that dance as well. Maybe the dance and the song has awakened the feelings inside us.”

“we both have a passion for dance and dance only made us realise our inner thoughts. You don’t know but I am so happy right now that I finally get to call you mine.”

“who said you can call me yours?”

“I said and that’s final. also y/n…congratulations.”

“ for what?” you asked in surprise.

“for the win. It was your first step to join your dream company and I promise you, I will make it happen for you.”

“We will make it happen. Together.” You smiled and he nodded and bend down to peck you again.

You slowly removed his hand from your cheeks and took out your phone to click open your playlist.

“what are you doing?”

You didn’t reply and played a song ‘white love’.

The room filled with the intro of the song and swinging your hands, you knelt down in front of him, “will you have a dance with me, my dancing king?”

“of course, my dancing doll.”

“you were supposed to say queen not that stupid doll.”you whined.

“well you are a doll. My dancing doll.” He grabbed your waist and you both laughed with your bodies swaying with the flow of the music.

Afterall it was both of your dream, every day and every night to be in love with each other.

[Thanks for loving the Wooyoung fic...I hope you liked this one.]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn [open!]

𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮 𝙊𝙛 𝘼𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

Song Mingi x Fem!reader

Summary: Your relationship isn't as vanilla as you initially thought

Warnings: ft. Hongjoong, Language, Established Relationship, Honjoong as his own warning, Teasing, Mentions of Bruises, Possessiveness, Slight!Humor, Fluff, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, Marking, Rough Sex, Praise Kink, DUB/CON, Massive Degradation Kink, Rough Sex, No Aftercare, Breeding Kink, Dom!Mingi, Sub!reader, fingering, PIV, Unprotected Sex, Slight!Exhibition Kink

HE MAKES ME SO DELULU

Hongjoong's voice is loud and frankly hyperbolic when he decides to disrupt the serenity in the dorms by screaming, "What the hell is that?!"

Your head jerks upwards from Mingi's hard chest, effectively ruining your once blissful rest under candle scented clouds as you stare wide-eyed at your boyfriend's friend. Hongjoong had promised to make himself and the rest of the group scarce on this bustling Friday night, leaving you and Mingi alone in the dorms while they partied up the peroration of the weekend.

But he is still here.

Blocking the view of the TV with his blinding Saint Lairent sequence and attire.

Your downtime, your only time, which was meticulously carved out of both you and your boyfriend's busy schedule is suddenly being hijacked by a crazily grinning Hongjoong, cupping the front of his mouth in apparent shock.

"Aren't you supposed to be gone?" Mingi mutters, refusing to spare Hongjoong a single glance as he swipes through his phone.

Your boyfriend continues in his duties as the big spoon on the wide sectional. His other hand, in its callousness and recklessness, is draped over your hip. Throughout his doom scrolling, Mingi's hand has slipped under your camisole and has taken to rubbing, slow circles along your soft tummy, gradually exposing the dark, purple splotches which caught Hongjoong's attention, just as he was about to leave.

"Aren't you supposed to be a human?" Hongjoong replies smoothly before gesturing vaguely towards your exposed abdomen, "When were you going to tell us you're an undercover vampire? I always had a suspicion, but now I know -"

"Jeez-" You stammer, fighting to force out Mingi's hand and pull down your camisole before Hongjoong could get a closer look. Mingi's hand is an iron glove as he pushes you down by your abdomen, effectively securing you against him.

Without looking up from his phone, he says, "He's in our business,"

"Damn right, I'm in your business!" Exclaims Hongjoong, "Did you see the state of those marks, man?! Honestly, I applaud you-"

Sensing Mingi's already glacial patience waning, by the firm grip across your abdomen, you attempt to salvage the conversation. Mingi very rarely felt like speaking at the best of times, even more apparent was his abhorrence for explaining himself and so you do it for him.

"They're just love bites," You attempt to salvage, but to no avail. "And anyway, I think you better get going, now!"

"'Love bites!'" Hongjoong mocks in slight acquiescence as he begins to make his way to the front door.

Despite the flurry of teasing that he had been attacked with, Mingi is still indifferent as he finally places his phone down. In fact, his hand returns to its designated spot underneath your camisole, resting along your tummy, with his blunt fingernails skimming the softness of the skin under your breasts "You love everything I do to you," He murmurs in your ear loud enough for Hongjoong to hear who finally disappears behind the closed door with another loud cackle. Mingi continues rubbing along your skin as he buries his head in between your neck.

"Show them too me," He says, "I like seeing them."

There is no reality in which you could possibly explain to anyone that the marks you sported underneath your clothes are a product of your desires. One glance at your body, riddled with bruises and love bites, would have anybody sick. To you, however, they were a prize.

"I wanna see them," Mingi says, having suddenly found his deep, fiery, sandalwood voice, echoing throughout the living room.

He begins to paw at anything and everything to get to one of his many marks he left on you and once he peeks over your side, and sees what Hongjoong saw, the flurry of blue and purple bruises meshing into the depths of your skin - it has his resolve snapping in earnest as he pushes you easily onto your back, while he moves to hover above you.

He had not always been this handsy or demanding, and you're unable to stop yourself from thinking back to when things had been different...

You remember the softness of Mingi's hands your first night spent together. How he hovered behind your bent over frame, clenching his jaw as he eased his leaking cock inside of you at snail pace,

"I don’t have anywhere to be, Babe, take your time," you had joked with a lazy smile while Mingi's jaw ticked.

"Carry on with your little jokes and I might not be so forgiving," If only you knew that the further your pussy swallowed his dick, the more his patience was waning. His limbs ached with the need to wrap around you. Adrenaline from the earlier performance was still running through his arteries, heightening his senses. He needed to go quicker. He longed to fuck you harder. This gentleness was going against everything in his very nature. His body burened for him to make a mess inside you, clamp his hand around your mouth and fuck you in front of the greenroom mirror until you begged him to stop… until you would have the marks to prove it.

But he liked you too much

And he had never felt this way before.

And as his hand dug into your soft sides, he promised that he would never let his recklessness steal this away from him.

But you felt him twitch inside you, and you peered up at his brown eyes now squeezed shut,

"What are you thinking about," you had asked him softly, as Mingi began a slow rhythm with his hips- the tip of his cock barely grazing that plush bundle of need inside you.

"Don't worry about what I'm thinking about," He blew out a hot and heavy breath, "what the fuck are you think about? You're gripping me like a vice, you fucking slut," He did not mean to say that. He did not mean for the words to slip out.

Or maybe he did.

There is an immense burst of pleasure spanning inside him, having him rut just a little quicker inside you - inside his beautiful fucking slut.

"Fuck,"

"Holy shit"

A dam had been broken. A holy grail was discovered as you watched Mingi and his slightly parted lips through the mirror. His eyes had snapped shut and a pained, completely fucked out expression overtook him. It had Mingi's cock seeking further, more violent entry, while your thighs framing his hips only locked tighter. The noise of post-perfomance celebration outside was no match for the bass in Mingi's voice that night.

"What are you thinking about?" All thoughts lead back to the present with Mingi presently stationed between your thighs on the big, open couch. Your breath is shallow as you reply, "Guess,"

A slow, almost proud smirk lightly pierces the end of his lips as he sits back on his haunches to splay a kiss against your steepled knee. Your eyes flutter shut as his plush, pillowy lips make contact with your skin, "Osaka?" He asks, voice as husky as it was in that deserted green room, where he forced you to take everything he had to offer while still wanting more.

"Osaka." You nod with finality, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as Mingi's kisses grew slightly more frazzled along your legs. Soon, you're gasping into the air as you feel his sneaky hand drift further and further along your inner thigh, like a serpent on a mission. He remains cool and collected on the outside but his bulge is raging against his sweatpants. It's the lack of immediate gratification on both ends that has your wetness seeping onto your underwear while you begin to paw helplessly at your breasts.

"You know…" Mingi's fingers lock onto your underwear, which he gradually pulls down. His kisses cease, and you frown at the skin-to-skin disconnection as your eyes flutter open, "Your skin is looking a little too boring down here. Not a single mark in sight," He peers up at you from between your rattling thighs with unmistakable innocent eyes.

You arch your back off the couch, already triggered by a deep wave of arousal as you bring your cunt to meet his hand while you reply through clenched teeth, "You can't… on my legs- They'll see,"

"You think I care if any of them see?" It is a question asked in darkened curiosity. You moan with ferocity as Mingi's fingers spear your aching cunt as his head tilts to the side, "You think I care if anyone sees how pretty you look when you're covered in my bruises like this?" He's completely sunken into his wayward domspace as his fingers drift in and out of you with complete focus and determination. You're a mewling, moaning mess as your fingers dig into his choppy dyed hair and you lift your hips to meet each and every obscenely cruel thrust.

"Another finger, Mingi, Please. I need m-more," he was wrecking you with middle finger alone, savouring the way your cunt gripped around him, imagining it was his cock. "Such a cute little slut," He mutters, almost to himself as he obliges and slowly sinks his index fingers inside your soaking walls. Your cunt is eager to pull his fingers in before pushing him out and pulling him in again. Mingi is utterly transfixed, watching you fuck yourself silly on his fingers until they're glistening.

"Lift your top," he says, "I wanna see you." You comply without fail, scrambling to lift your camisole until the cool air flows freely across your hardened nipples. Mingi's breathing becomes ragged when he lays eyes on your exposed breasts, and the dozens of little marks splattered across your torso. Some faded, some blending into the depth of your skin. It is the unevenness of it, the irregularities and discoloration that he put there, that completely blows the lid on his composure.

"Fuck, open your legs," you could not find it in you to tell him your legs were already open. All you do is moan from the loss of his fingers as Mingi crawls up against you. He palms his hardened cock through his sweats as he watches you play with your tits in the most lewd, most lascivious fashion.

"You like acting like such a little slut?" The depth of his voice, had you absolutely weak to the core, like the foundations of earth itself was being enchanted to speak. He knew how wrecked he could get you by simply speaking and it is his most coveted weapon. Mingi's eyes are hooded and glassy as he hovers over you, simultaneously forcing his cock through your wet folds while he looked down at you with fierce conviction.

You're already teetering on the edge as he begins to fuck you hard and rough while his 3 silver chains dangle from his neck, kissing the very tips of your nose.

"Oh- fuck, you're taking me so well," Mingi's voice is absolutely delirious as he pounds into you, his jewelery moving in tandem with his violent thrusts as he brings a hand down on your breasts.

"So, good, you feel so good," He repeats, rutting into you with the same urgency of that very first night you let him get this rough with you. His thrusts are sloppy and erratic as he splays a wayward hand on your inner thigh, prying your legs open to allow his cock to plunge even deeper. Mingi's left arm is beside your head, keeping him afloat while he experimentally brings a calloused hand around the base of your throat, testing. Your back once again peels off the couch as you bring a hand up to his wrist. "Fuck, oh my god-"

"Fuck, Mingi" He corrects, huffing and puffing above you as he urges you to nod along with him, "I want you to say my name, baby,"

"F-Fuck, Mingi," The words escape through pursed lips, accompanied by a whorish moan from you and a deep, rumbling groan from Mingi who begins to hump your cunt with urgency.

For the umpteenth time since you began, you are utterly breathless.

"My dumb little slut is taking his cock so well," Mingi's voice is hoarse as it cracks into a million pieces, "So fucking good,"

He watches with shallow breathing as another moan climbs up and out of your throat... He sends another mindless rut into your pussy, spurred by the knowledge that you are slipping into subspace right in front of him. "You like it when I call you my little slut?"

"Oh fuck-" Your own hips are restless as you lift them to meet his sloppy thrusts.

"That's not an answer," He says before squeezing the base of your throat in warning.

"Yes!" You say, once You're given the gift of breathing, "Yes, I like it when you call me a slut!" Unimaginable pleasure only multiplies as Mingi buries his head in the crook of your neck and bites. He is relentless on your skin- sinking his teeth and rutting his hips until the tip of his cock bruises your cervix. You're completely incoherent and so is he.

"Fuck…I love seeing- love seeing my marks on you baby," Mingi's eyes are half lidded as his lips hangs open, "Fucking love marking my slut and fucking her tight little pussy."

"Oh, fuck-"

"I can't stop," He says, with utter desperation in his tone, enough to have your legs shaking, ready to accommodate your oncoming orgasm, "I can't fucking stop so don't ask me to, okay? P-Please don't ask me to stop," Mingi's words bleed into one another and he feels free. Free to say what he needs to in order to build that well of lust necessary to push him over the edge.

He is so grateful to have found you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna fill your pussy with my cum-" that is the only announcement needed before Mingi completely releases inside you. His words have you slipping into your own orgasm, screaming and clawing at the hand around your neck as your hips lift to milk everything out of him.

The air that settles is still profoundly charged and Mingi finds himself unable to leave the confines of your pussy, so he doesn't.

"I want you to show everyone these marks for me tomorrow," He whispers with his cock still inside you, "Can you do that for me?"

Welp!

Baby Fever

paring: mingi x pregnant¡fem¡reader

genre: fluff

ꨄ

A/N: This was requested

It already Monday morning. And you HATE Monday mornings. You look at the time on your bedside clock “5;55” you didn’t even feel like getting up but you had an appointment today.

Now your appointments are every week instead of every 2 weeks mainly monday. Which is why you dislike monday, the long process of sitting in the doctors for what felt like hours. But of course you did it for your baby girl.

You lean up as you dreadfully make your way to the bathroom to do your morningly things. As you turn on the shower water you feel someone creep behind you. Not just anyone though your beautiful fiancée. You turn around as you look at him face to face.

“Good morning baby” you say to mingi as he caresses your stomach.

“Good morning Beautiful, and good morning to my baby.” mingi says as leans down and kisses your baby bump.

You blush a little at his action. He quickly notices and pecks you on the lips.

“m gonna shower mingi you wanna join?” you ask him

“Nope, I have a little surprise for you once you get out.” he says as he winks at you.

You blush at his words once again, as he pecks you on your temple. You quickly get undressed as you hop in the shower. The Warm water hitting your back, during which you wash and massage your hair.

Mingi really loves the shampoo you use. So you are literally obsessed with it. Just as you’re getting out the shower you feel a kick in your stomach, and you groan at the pain. You realized your water may have broke?

But your not to sure if your water broke or if it’s the water running down your body from the shower. But the thought was answered for you as you start feeling sharp pains. You quickly throw your clothes on.

You groan loudly, if not a scream and you could hear mingi running into the bathroom.

“Y/N, Are you ok? What’s going on? Is the baby coming?” mingi says in confused but with worried expression.

“Mingi i need to go to the hospital NOW.” you tell him as you hold your stomach in pain.

He picks you up in his arms and carries you to the car, you already packed your baby things incase of in emergency like this.

He speeds through cars as you’re on your way to the hospital, and you’re still groaning in pain, mingi keeps glancing at you to make sure you’re okay.

“mingi keep you’re eyes on the road, im fine baby” you say worried at his driving actions.

He doesn’t say anything he listens to you and keeps his eyes on the road sneaking a glance once and then.

Once you make it to the hospital, he quickly runs and grabs a wheelchair with the baby bag on his back. Rushing you into the ER.

“Her water broke she’s about to have THE BABY NOW.” he screams at the receptionist. She quickly calls a doctor who takes you to your room.

“Are you the father?” the doctor asks.

“yes” he says with a worried look on his face.

“when did her water break?” the nurse asks curiously.

“just about 2 hours ago” mingi says.

“She’s 6cm dilated, we going to go ahead and give her the epidural” the doctor quickly tells him.

“Okay” he says as he colds your hands.

2 HRS LATER

you’re welcoming your baby girl, song mi cha.

SATURDAY | Seven | smg xf!reader

You love when I jump right in All of me I'm offering Show you what devotion is Deeper than the ocean is

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.8k | Pairing: smg x f!reader | Genre: smut, romance

Warnings: biting/marking, praise kink, oral f. rec., fingering, kitchen sex

Reader Notes: wears skirts and dresses, has breasts and a vagina, gets lifted by mingi

Mingi leans over the sauce pan and takes in a deep breath through his nose to check the garlic and shallots as they saute over low heat. They need a couple more minutes to become fragrant, and those minutes give Mingi just enough time to get the rest of his ingredients out. A tube of tomato paste, a few tablespoons of vodka, and a cup of heavy cream are lined up on the counter, along with a block of parmesan and some butter. 

He opens and squeezes the tomato paste into the sizzling sauce pan just as you breeze into the kitchen wrapped in a towel, your skin dewy and your hair up. 

“How long do I have?” You ask, wrapping your hand around his elbow and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Twenty or so minutes,” he estimates, stirring the paste into the aromatics until the mixture smooths out before turning his head and stealing a real kiss. You giggle into his mouth, cupping his face with lotion-soft hands and kissing him breathless, and then you pull away. 

You pull away, and Mingi is too dazed to catch you as you dart from the kitchen. He just stands there, one hand wrapped around a wooden spoon and the other holding the handle of the pan, and tries to remember what he was doing before you came in. 

He was cooking, he knows that, but where in the recipe was he? What steps are left? There’s cooked pasta on the counter, so he did that already, at least. There’s also an uncapped tube of tomato paste and oh, that’s where he was. 

It’s simmered more than long enough by now, and he slowly pours in the vodka to deglaze the pan, stirring until it’s all evaporated before adding the pasta water he kept. He lets it come back to a boil as he stirs, the mixture becoming smooth and bright and fragrant. 

“Okay, outfit number one,” your voice sounds behind him, and he tries to contain the rush of giddiness that comes when he realizes you’re going to give him a fashion show. You don’t do it often, just when you’re having a date night in and you have the energy, so Mingi absolutely adores these nights. The twinkle in your eye, the extra pep in your step, the cute little twirls you do to show off the whole outfit, he loves it all. 

He turns in place and attempts to keep his face smooth, to pretend to be critical, as he takes you in. You’re wearing a short, light pink dress, with lace and little embroidered strawberries and bows on the straps, and as you spin for him, he notices you’ve got matching bows in your hair. You look gorgeous, adorable, radiant, and he doesn’t even have to think to say, “One million out of ten, baby.”

He reaches for your hips, only to feel his face fall in a pout when you skip out of the way and out of the room, calling, “Next!” over your shoulder as you go. Sighing, he returns to dinner and tries to figure out where he was again. 

The cup of pasta water is empty, so it must be time to add the cream. He stirs as he pours, reducing the heat when the sauce has smoothed out and opening up the parmesan to start grating it. 

“Outfit number two!” You sing as you glide into view, wearing one of his favorite tops and a skirt he hasn’t seen before. His hands freeze as he looks you up and down, his heart racing at the sight of you. The shirt is light, buttery yellow silk, and something about the way it molds to your tits always makes Mingi’s head spin. It goes perfectly with the white, flowy skirt you chose, the whole outfit making you look like sunshine embodied. 

It’s just as sweet as the last, but with a different vibe, and Mingi wonders what the final outfit will be. He doesn’t even try to touch you this time, knowing both that you’re too quick for him and that he’s got cheese hands. Instead he beams and says, “Fuckin’ beautiful, baby.”

You preen at his words, your pleased little smile pushing your cheeks up as you smooth your hands down your body, ironing out invisible wrinkles. 

“You’ve got ten minutes,” he warns before you can ask, giving the sauce a stir and returning to his cheese grating when you squeak and fly away. He misses you instantly but reminds himself you’ll be back before he knows it. Dinner requires his attention anyway, the parm and butter just sitting there, waiting to be added. 

Both go into the bubbling sauce, along with some fresh ground salt and pepper, and as he lets it all meld together, he starts cleaning up. With just a minute to spare, you rush into the kitchen, sliding on socked feet and stealing his breath. 

You’re wearing thigh high socks. That’s literally all Mingi can register. He doesn’t know what else you’re wearing, can’t hear what you’re saying, doesn’t even notice the timer going off. All he knows is you’re wearing thigh high socks, and he’s so gone for you. 

He only drags his gaze from your legs when you start moving toward him, his arms opening on instinct as you step into his space and reach up. He’s not sure what you’re doing, but you could do anything to him and he’d be happy about it, thankful even. He’s a little disappointed when he finds that you were just turning off the microwave timer, but he’ll survive if it means he gets to keep looking at you.

“I guess this one’s your favorite?” You tease, switching the burner to low and turning in a slow circle for him. Finally, he takes in the rest of your outfit, a cute little pajama set, and his face crumples in defeat when he sees the way your knit shorts hug your ass. 

“Fuck, baby. Yeah, this one’s my favorite,” he practically groans, his hands burning with the desire to touch, to take, to consume. He abandons the stove, the wooden spoon clattering onto the spoon rest as he takes you by the hips and lifts you to sit on the freshly cleaned island. 

Your hands fly to his shoulders, holding tight and keeping him close when he starts to pull away. 

“Lemme eat you out, baby. Hm?” Mingi murmurs in your ear, pressing kisses down your throat as he waits for your answer. 

“Shouldn’t we eat dinner first?” You ask halfheartedly, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. 

“This is our place, baby, we make the rules. If we want dessert before dinner, we can have dessert before dinner,” he speaks low and slow, feeling very much like the devil on your shoulder and not minding at all. 

“Okay,” you shrug and sigh happily, blissfully, a smile brightening your voice as he tugs you right up to the edge of the counter. Your hands fall away from his shoulders to brace behind your back, your hips lifting when he curls his fingertips in the waistband of your shorts and starts to pull. 

He’s careful pulling them over your socks, folds them up and places them next to you on the island before sinking to his knees and biting a mark into your inner thigh, just above where the socks pinch. 

“Why have I never seen these before?” He asks softly, running his hands over your calves and wrapping his hands around your ankles to spread your legs wider. 

“They’re new, I bought them with the set I wore on Tuesday,” you gasp as he takes hold of one leg and hefts it up onto his shoulder, doing the same with your other leg before nuzzling into your pussy and taking a deep breath. 

“I fuckin’ love them,” he mutters against you, knowing you can feel his words better than you can hear them. 

“Good, I bought them for you.” 

He thanks you by licking through your folds to find your clit, a loud moan leaving his lips as soon as your taste hits his tongue. He wonders how long you’ve been wet, if you started off your little fashion show with damp panties and wicked intent, or if every wardrobe change made you hotter. 

He’s not curious enough to tear himself away from you, too entranced by your weeping pussy to even consider pulling away long enough to ask. All he cares about is getting more of you on his tongue, in his mouth, on his face. 

He wants you all over him, and with determined fingers, he starts to search for the spot that will make you gush. He knows he’s got it when you buck into his touch and curl up around him, whimpering his name in a voice that makes his cock twitch. 

The ache is distracting, and he reaches down to undo his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down just far enough for his dick to pop out. He sighs in relief as he tucks them under his balls, squeezing the base of his cock once just to tide himself over, the feeling of your walls wrapping around his fingers making it throb. 

He grinds into that spongy patch with his fingertips and slides his tongue from your clit to your entrance to catch the arousal that seeps out, an encouraging groan leaving him as he swallows you down. He’s never been more thankful for his nose, the size and shape of it perfect for you to rub your clit against while he shoves his tongue inside you along with his fingers. 

Your cunt clamps down like you don’t want him to move, but he knows that just means you’re getting close, knows he should fuck you through the tightness, knows you can take it even though your socked thighs are trembling on his shoulders and you’re crying like you can’t. 

“You can do it, baby. You can cum for me, I know you can,” Mingi pulls his tongue out to coo roughly, his fingertips still working your g-spot. You open one teary eye, peeking down at him, and he grins sharply, his lips swollen and shiny with you, before he wraps them around your clit and sucks hard. 

The sound is obscene but the result is divine, a rush of wetness flowing out of your fluttering cunt  as you writhe in pleasure above him, your whimpers and soaking wet pussy making his dick throb against his thigh. 

He could stop, but his knees don’t hurt yet and his tongue still works, so why should he?

Dinner will hold, and if it doesn’t, there’s always takeout. 

pls reblog if you enjoyed!! as always, i would love to hear your thoughts 💖

Seven Masterlist

My Masterlist

TUESDAY | Seven | smg x f!reader

Goin' to the sun up, we ain't gettin' no sleep Seven days a week, seven different sheets Seven different angles, I can be your fantasy

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.0k | Pairing: smg x f!reader | Genre: smut, romance

Warnings: tit fucking, overstimulation, piv sex, mating press, creampie, cockwarming

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, wears lingerie

Mingi has never been able to decide if he’s an ass, thighs, or tits guy when it comes to you. In his previous relationships, he’s always been able to identify one of the three as his favorite. 

With you, it’s impossible. Your ass is immaculate, the perfect size for his hands to squeeze and smack and, sometimes, spank. Your thighs are lush, thick, soft, and he loves feeling them wrapped around his waist when he’s fucking you, and his wrist when he’s fingering you, and his head when he’s eating you out. And your tits… 

Your tits were molded by the gods themselves, painstakingly and meticulously formed by the hands that create life. They were placed on your body because you’re the only one who deserves them, and Mingi is the luckiest bastard on this planet to get to touch them and hold them and suck them and love them. 

And fuck them. 

God, does he love fucking them. 

It doesn’t do much for you so he doesn’t ask for it often, but some days, all he can think about is getting his aching cock between your perfect breasts. He loves feeling them press up against his length, adores the way they look sandwiching his dick as you push them up and together for him to fuck. 

Today is one of those days. 

He woke with his head resting on your chest, your heartbeat thumping under his cheek in a soothing rhythm as you dozed. The softness of your tits lulled him back to sleep in no time, and when he blinked awake later, it was to an empty bedroom and the lingering scent of your perfume. You warned him you needed to go into work early, but still he mourned not getting a kiss goodbye. 

At the office, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your sweet smile and your dulcet voice and the way your tits look in your work bra before you cover them up with a blouse. He didn’t get to see them this morning, but he hoped he’d get to see them tonight and that was enough to keep the thought on his mind all day. 

Even through the commute back to the apartment, you occupied every corner of his brain. Your favorite song played in the back of his mind, and he wondered the whole way home if you’d make it there before him, if you’d get undressed and take a shower and be waiting for him in bed like you like to do sometimes. 

He loves those times, loves coming home to find you naked and soft and ready for him, but he also loves getting home before you and getting right to cooking so you have a hot meal waiting on the table after a long day’s work. Your car was in your spot when he pulled in, and he tried to tell himself not to expect you to be in bed. 

You had to go into the office early, and work all the way till the end of the day, and Mingi expected you to be tired and perhaps a little cranky. 

He definitely didn’t expect you to greet him at the door in lingerie, but that’s exactly what you did. He tried to usher you to the bedroom, but you just placed a hand on his chest and said, “Dinner first.”

He still can’t stop staring at you, even as he brings bites of food to his mouth and attempts to make conversation. Why you’re torturing him like this, he doesn’t know, but it’s taking absolutely everything he has not to spread you out on this table and rip your pretty underwear at the seams. 

“Is this new?” He asks, his eyes caught on the delicate lace covering your nipples. He wonders just how it would feel under his tongue, in his mouth, between his teeth. 

“Why yes, thank you for noticing,” you smile serenely, chewing your last bite before reaching behind your back and unclasping the bra. 

It drops away from your body and your tits drop with it, the sight making his face crumple in pained desire. A whimper leaves him when you bring your hands up and cup them, your nipples peeking through your fingers, making him want to drop to his knees and suck them into his mouth. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” He groans pitifully, pushing his dinner away as his appetite for food wanes and his hunger for you grows. 

“Because I can,” you shrug, your tits bouncing with the movement, entrancing him. 

“You’re so mean,” he says with resignation, before standing and walking around the table to pull your chair out, lean down, and heft you over his shoulder. He feels your giggle more than he hears it, a smile stretching his lips as he lumbers to the bedroom. 

Bending down, he deposits you on the bed with a bounce, cupping your face and drawing you into a heated kiss. He groans into your mouth as he straddles you, following when you lean back on the bed and nipping your lip when you start to pull away. 

“Where do you think you’re goin’, hm? I’m not done kissing you yet,” he mumbles, pouting when you don’t give in and kiss him again. 

“Wanna fuck my tits?” You offer, rising to your elbows as he sits up on his knees. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“You have?” He gasps in wonder, watching you take hold of your breasts and push them together with his mouth open and watering. 

“Yeah, Mingi. Your big, thick cock between them. The look on your face when I lean down and suck. The way you cum so fucking fast for me, so easy.” 

He twitches in his boxer briefs and starts shedding clothing, climbing off of you to push down his pants and underwear before reaching into the bedside table for the lube. The lid opens with a slick click, clear fluid flowing out of the opening into his waiting hand. He warms it up first, rubbing his palms together until it’s not freezing before slathering it all over his throbbing dick. 

He sets one knee on the bed and swings the other over your body, straddling your chest and guiding his cock between your tits. You squeeze them around his dick, just the sensation of your soft skin pressed against his length making him groan. 

He pulls his hips back and rolls them forward, starting up a languid rhythm and watching as his cock slides in and out of the valley of your breasts. The image is so fucking hot, it has him throbbing already, has milky white precum leaking out to glisten on your chest. 

You’re right, he does cum so fucking fast for you when you do this, and after just a few minutes of fucking your tits, he’s already on the edge. 

He wars with himself, caught between the urge to spill his cum all over your sweet tits and the desire to beg you to let him fuck it into your perfect little cunt. When you tilt your head up, laying your tongue out so the head of his dick bumps into it with every thrust, the decision is made for him. 

He tries to keep his head from falling back as he cums, his neck muscles weak in the wake of his pleasure but his brain screaming at him to watch as cum coats your chest and chin in streams. Some of it lands on your tongue and you hum, closing your mouth and swallowing it before taking hold of his dick and starting to pump. 

“Wait, baby, s’too sensitive,” he whimpers, though he’s already thrusting into the circle of your hand. 

“Okay,” you release him and drag your fingers through the mess on your skin, reaching around him to slide them between your legs. “If you won’t fuck me, I will.”

“Fuck, what’s gotten into you today?” He groans as he climbs off of you as gracefully as he can, his limbs still clumsy from his orgasm and his dick already throbbing with need. 

“I woke up with you hard and pressed against my ass and then I had to leave you and go to work. I didn’t even have time to cum in the shower,” you pout as he pushes your legs up and apart, your pussy shiny with arousal and his cum. 

That does sound pretty rough, especially when he had time to cum in the shower. God, and you had such a long day but you still surprised him with dinner and lingerie, like the sweet baby angel you are. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck you all night to make up for it,” he promises roughly, lining himself up and sliding home in one smooth thrust. He’s not fully hard yet but your cunt will get him there in no time, your pussy searing hot and so fucking good around his aching cock. 

He didn’t open you up but you’re wet as hell, making his dick glide as he pulls his hips back and thrusts forward, the clutch of your cunt making all the blood in his body rush down into his cock. It’s still so sensitive, it almost hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain, the kind that makes his eyes roll back into his head as he fills you again and again. 

It’s not enough to just be holding your legs up when he wants to be holding your whole body down, so he pushes them as close to your body as they can go and climbs on top of you, putting you in a mating press. 

He can thrust down with real power now, and your face screws up with pleasure as he starts to pound into you, his cock hitting the end of you with every buck of his hips. It feels so fucking good, he’s not sure he can stand it, his rhythm stuttering when you start to squeeze and flutter around him. 

“Getting close, baby?” He asks, wanting to hear the answer even though he already knows. 

“Yeah, Mingi, m’so close,” you whine weakly, your hands covering his where they hold your thighs. 

“I got you, baby,” he breathes as he leans down to kiss you, folding you in half and digging his cock into that spot deep inside that makes you gush. 

His tongue fucks into your mouth just like his cock fucks into your pussy, making you moan and hold his hands tighter, your release building and building and building until he roots himself deep and grinds. 

His pelvis rubbing against your clit is enough to break you, and he pulls away with a feral grin to watch as you unravel for him. He always loves to see the look on your face, to take in the pleasure in your eyes, to know he’s the one making it all happen. 

It’s enough to bring him over the edge for the second time, his cock jerking inside of you as ropes of cum shoot out to paint your walls, globs of white seeping out around where he’s filling you. 

Mingi wants to just collapse against you but you’re still all folded up, and he knows that must be getting uncomfortable. He’s not ready to pull out yet, though, so he just gathers you up in his arms and falls to the side, rolling until you’re resting on his chest with his cock still plugging you up. 

“Let's just stay like this for a while, hm, baby?” He breathes, half asleep with the comfort of your weight on him. 

You don’t answer which can only mean you’ve succumbed to slumber already, and, unbearably fond of you, Mingi just holds you tighter and ignores the way his dick twitches back to life at the feeling of your still-fluttering muscles. 

You need to get your rest now if he’ll be fucking you all night like he promised. 

pls reblog if you enjoyed!! as always, i would love to hear your thoughts 💖

Seven Masterlist

My Masterlist

playing with his hair || smg || drabbles

fluff

atz masterlist

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

❥ you could tell your boyfriend’s been stressed and on edge lately so one day when he gets home from work you tell him to sit on the couch and relax. you made yourself comfy behind him and began to run your fingers through his hair

❥ he immediately melted into your touch; loving the feel of your fingers brushing against his scalp and his eyes closed in bliss. he savored this moment as he rested back against you

❥ humming a soft thank you, he dozed off to the feel of your gentle touch

<3

ateez as romantic tropes

⇀ genre fluff, angst, comedy

⇀ style blurbs

⇀ wc listed per member (between 1.1k and 2.2k)

⇀ warnings all readers are gender neutral, listed per member

⇀ reactions from the gc “Yep mhm would def swoon over him yes mhm yep” “BRUH I give you all of your content for free” “I need Yunho to help me obliterate my kitchen cabinets” “Losing my mf mind over him”

note word count variation does not reflect any preference for specific members, some stories just felt like they needed more backstory or had more action

home for the holidays

⇀ pairing hs crush!seonghwa x hs crush!reader

⇀ wc 1.5k

⇀ warnings mentions of food

“seonghwa! come in!” his mother greeted him at the door of his childhood home, ushering him inside quickly before enveloping him in a warm hug.

she bombarded him with questions about his life in seoul, what he’d been eating, how he’d been sleeping, as he removed his shoes. he tried to keep up with all of her fussing as he dragged his suitcase down the hall and into his bedroom but he could barely get out more than a few words before she was moving onto her next thought.

“anyway, your father went out to pick up some tofu so i could make you sundubu-jjigae,” she explains before she’s cut off by the sound of the doorbell and the kitchen timer going off simultaneously.

“i‘ll get the door,” seonghwa volunteers before his mother can say anything else, and pads back to where he had been only moments prior.

he’s not exactly sure what he expected on the other side of the door, especially so late in the evening, but he thinks he might be able to feel every nerve ending on his body alight when he opens the door to find you.

you look both severely different and exactly the same as when he’d last seen you, minus the lack of your high school’s blue uniform. of course you’ve changed your hair, your style seems to have improved as well, but mostly you just look more mature, more you, if that’s possible.

“oh, seonghwa,” you chirp, your surprise evident on your face, “i didn’t know you were back.”

“i didn’t know you were still in town,” he counters, his expression mirroring your own.

you don’t say anything, simply trying to process that the boy you’d had a crush on in high school had become, well, a man. he was considerably more attractive than he had been years ago, if that was even possible, and he almost seemed to hold himself with more confidence even if he was just standing in the middle of the entryway of his childhood home. you try to urge your mind to stay in the present but it can’t help but dig up your old memories of high school seonghwa and all the reasons you should have told him you liked him back then.

when you don’t say anything, seonghwa speaks up, asking, “is there something i can do for you?”

you suddenly are remembering your mission and the tote bag that’s weighing down your shoulder, housing the reason you’ve been coming to his parents house for the past few months.

“right!” you say, taking one of the containers out of your bag and presenting it to seonghwa. “this is for your mom.”

just as you mention her, seonghwa can hear his mom shuffling down the hall behind him, her slippers slapping against the wood floor to announce her coming.

“y/n is that you?” she says once she’s right behind her son. “well don’t make them stand outside,” she scolds seonghwa, gesturing for him to move so that you can step past the threshold.

“hi mrs park,” you greet his mother with a bow, still holding the container in your hands as you trade your outside shoes for the guest slippers.

“you shouldn’t be walking this late by yourself dear,” she scolds gently before heading back to the kitchen, you pittering after her lightly.

for a moment seonghwa stands in shock, doorknob still clutched in his hand and gears turning in his head. since when had you become friends with his mom? and since when did you start knowing which ones were the guest slippers? and since when had he started to miss you?

“and i wanted to get it to you while it was fresh.”

seonghwa joins you both in the kitchen and catches the tail end of your statement, presumably an explanation as to why you’re walking to his house so late.

“it would have been perfectly fine tomorrow,” his mother only replies, removing the lid from the container you’d given her and revealing a loaf of, what looked to be, homemade bread.

“it’s a cinnamon milk bread,” you say and seonghwa turns to see you looking at him. he doesn’t say anything in response and you simply smile, turning back to his mother after just a moment. his mind is still reeling as he watches you, stood casually in the kitchen as though you belong here. you hold none of the awkwardness that normally is present when someone visits another’s home for the first time and some little voice in the back of his mind tells him that it feels domestic. of course, he tries to push that thought away.

“here,” his mother says after she’s transferred the bread into her own container and returned yours, “you should stay for dinner. i’m making sundubu-jjigae.”

you shake your head, a slight look of hesitation on your face and seonghwa assumes that you’ve probably stayed for dinner plenty when he was gone. “that sounds delicious but i should be getting back. i have another loaf cooling on my counter that i need to pack up,” you explain.

“well at least have seonghwa walk you back,” she suggests, and you’re obviously about to decline, based on your body language, when seonghwa insists.

you agree then, not putting up much of a fight once you know his mother isn’t forcing him for her own satisfaction, making your way back out and beginning a steady trek back to your own house.

“how’s seoul?” you ask after a beat, not wanting to walk in awkward silence the entire way.

“it’s nice,” he says simply before adding, “busy.”

you nod in understanding. “i’m sure.”

“how are you?” he asks.

as you turn to look at him again, your eyes crinkling slightly as you grin, he feels like he’s never left his hometown. he’s still sat in his desk at school watching you laugh with your friends across the room during lunch. you would always notice him staring, turning and presenting him the same warm smile you give him now.

he realizes in this moment that he wishes he’d told you, all those years ago, about what his friends always teased him for, about how much he liked you, because now it’s manifested into a gentle ache that seems to pull him back, to that time and to you. he guesses there’s a reason that people say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

you notice the expression on his face, the same one he wore in high school when he was deep in thought. not one that would appear during a test or when studying but one that would show when he was debating with his friends or talking about his future.

“what are you thinking about?” you ask to break the silence, genuine curiosity sparkling behind your eyes.

“hmmm nothing i guess,” he tries to play it off but you give him a suspicious look. “school,” he tries again, being broad about his approach.

“i guess that is the last time we saw each other,” you say and he wonders if you remember it all as clearly as him.

you toss around the idea of admitting what you never had to anyone before and maybe it’s something in the comfort of the night air or just the way seonghwa’s eyes are so focused on you but you decide that if you never say anything now you’ll surely regret it.

“you know,” you continue after another moment of silence, “i had a crush on you in high school.”

seonghwa feels his heart stop for a moment, his entire body consumed by a warmth that’s surely tinged his skin red as he tries to remember how to breath and walk at the same time.

“really?” he huffs, hoping you don’t notice how wobbly his steps have gotten.

“yeah, i don’t know, you were just really sweet and cute,” you elaborate and seonghwa can’t tell if he wants you to stop talking or continue, your voice starting to overlap with his heartbeat in his ears.

he’s so distracted trying to control himself, he almost doesn’t notice when you’ve stopped in front of your house. he certainly doesn’t notice the sly smile that’s stretched across your face, indicating that you’ve clearly observed his reaction to your news.

“how long are you going to be in town?” you ask, fiddling with the strap of your tote bag and urging your heart to stop beating up against your rib cage.

“just two weeks,” he manages to say in between deep breaths to calm his own pulse, eyes wide and lips parted slightly.

“well, let me know if you’re free at any point,” you say, preparing to take the final leap. “we can get coffee or something.”

he nods as you turn to walk toward your door and seonghwa, for the first time, feels his mouth moving before he can stop it.

“what about dinner? tomorrow?”

you turn back, smile beautifully complimenting the blush on your cheeks, and nod.

“see you then.”

foreigner

⇀ pairing white knight!hongjoong x traveler!reader

⇀ wc 1.1k

⇀ warnings implied panic attack/crying in public, street harassment, creepy middle aged guy

note i always find random hangul in fics annoying but for this you don’t need to understand what he’s saying because the whole point is you don’t

of course you would manage to get lost in the biggest city in korea on your first day of your month long trip. you’d planned for almost everything, except, of course, navigating through the intricate seoul subway system. to be fair, your friend joomi had promised to pick you up from the airport before she’d been called in on a work emergency. you had assured her that you could find your way to her apartment on your own but now, as you stood on the wrong side of the platform, watching yet another train, that would have taken you toward your destination, leave, you’re not so sure anymore.

you huff in frustration, the wheels on your suitcase clicking against the tiles as you try to find an empty bench, hoping that you can maybe collect your thoughts before you start to feel the familiar sting of tears behind your eyes. you try not to think of how you might look right now, stale from your flight, sweaty from running between trains, and slightly pathetic from being overwhelmed by something everyone else seems to have mastered.

you quickly abandon your bench search as your phone tells you how long you would have to wait for the next train and you weigh the worth of spending an hour and a half sitting in the stuffy station or dragging your suitcase around the street above, settling on trying to maybe just find a convenience store or some place to grab a coffee.

luckily the area you’re stranded doesn’t seem too crowded, the streets easy to navigate without having to serpentine between people with your month worth of luggage. you find a semi empty convenience store pretty easy enough, paying for a couple snacks, an ice cup, and a drink with ease, conscious of the way the other people in the shop are doing double takes at you, likely due to your suitcase and the duffle on your shoulder.

you’ve never been more grateful to korean convenience stores and their included seating as right now, able to finally take a breath as you sit with your food.

as you try to mind your business, texting joomi to update her about where you are and the predicament you’re in, you can almost feel a burning gaze coming from one of the tables diagonal your own. you try to ignore it, as you did with the gazes earlier, but it feels different, somehow predatory.

“이봐, 너는 어디서 왔니?”

you look up to see a man, probably in his late 50s, starring intensely at you, confirming your suspicions about his watching you.

when you don’t respond, he says something else in korean, something you can’t understand with your limited knowledge of the language, and you try not to panic, but as he stands, seemingly trying to make his way over to you, you feel your heartbeat skyrocketing.

“i don’t-“ you start, gripping your phone tightly as you flounder for what to do.

the man takes another step toward you, saying something else that you can only assume isn’t nice from the way he seems to snarl it and reaching out to grab the handle of your suitcase that you’d placed behind the chair across from you but before he can take hold of your bag it’s being pulled away by a different man, someone who looks to be around your own age.

he addresses the older man with a forced smile, obviously angered at the situation and you try to interpret what is happening before you. you can’t understand a word either man is saying, trying too hard to just process the situation you’re in, but eventually the older man leaves, your savior watching intently to make sure he’s really gone before turning to you.

“you, uh, speak english?” he asks, finally rolling your suitcase back to where you’d originally placed it, although you assume it’s more of a courtesy question as he’d probably heard your unsettled words when trying to address the other man.

you nod, a gentle “yes” escaping you as you try to parse what this new man wants from you.

“are you okay?” he asks gently.

you try to search his eyes for any sense of danger but all you can see is worry.

“i’m fine,” you say with a little more certainty than before.

“good,” he says with a slight sigh, his shoulders visibly relaxing. he looks between you and your suitcase once before speaking up again. “what are you doing here?”

you take a moment to decide whether to tell him or not but you assume if he had wanted to harm you that he wouldn’t have stepped in to help you before, and so you tell him, “i’m waiting for a train, it doesn’t come for another hour.”

he nods in understanding.

“what’s your name?” you feel yourself ask before you register what you’re actually doing.

“ah, my name is hongjoong,” he replies.

all of his words are slow, deliberate, as he speaks to you, a contrast to how quickly he was talking in korean only moments ago.

you try to slow down your own words as you ask, “how do you know english?”

he seems to almost perk up at that, interested to tell you, “oh, i’m learning right now. sorry if my grammar is bad.”

you shake your head quickly, “no, no. you’re fine. i’m just glad i have someone to talk to.”

he hums in understanding before asking, “what is your name?”

you introduce yourself, even spelling out your name for him, before you notice the plastic bag in his hands.

“oh, would you like to,” you trail off, gesturing to the seat across from you in invitation.

he seems hesitant and you almost want to take back your offer before he says, “you are sure?”

you nod with a gentle smile and he mirrors your expression, helping you move your duffle onto the ground beneath your table and taking a seat across from you.

you talk casually with hongjoong for the rest of your wait, letting him give you a list of things you should try to do with your time in seoul.

“isn’t the han river more of a date spot?” you question as he collects both of your trash into his plastic bag.

“you could take your partner,” he says, glancing at you and you know he’s trying to gauge your reaction as his ears tint pink.

“oh!” you quip, your own face blooming with warmth. “uhm no, i don’t have a boyfriend or anything,” you rush to say, flicking your gaze between the table and the floor.

“then, what if we went?” hongjoong practically whispers and your eyes shoot up to his face, his now as red as yours.

boy next door

⇀ paring mechanic!yunho x house flipper!reader

⇀ wc 1.5k

⇀ warnings mentions of food, eating, suggestive, allusions to sex, recent breakup, mentions of a cheating ex, imagining hitting said cheating ex

maybe you should have listened to your friends that told you flipping a house all by yourself was a bit ambitious, but they should have known telling you that would only make you want to do it more. your family might have called you stubborn but you liked to frame it as strong-willed. so here you sat, covered in streaks of paint as you ate your lunch on the floor of a kitchen that was still wholly unusable while the fresh varnish on the living room walls started to dry.

you had yet to buy any furniture, an air mattress your only comfort at night, after selling everything from your apartment in the city. all of it was stained by memories of your ex, moments you’d shared together before he’d told you he’d been seeing someone else behind your back for months.

it’s fine, you could use a change of scenery anyway.

the suburbs were treating you well so far, the neighbor on your right a little old lady, ms. lee, that housed and cared for the feral cats in the area who had given you the most delicious treats she made herself as a house warming gift. you’d expected your other neighbor to be similar, or maybe a little family like most suburbs attracted, but what you had experienced yesterday was far from family friendly.

you’d come back from the hardware store around noon, buckets of paint weighing you down as you made your way up the driveway. you had spotted your neighbor’s garage door open and a shiny, certainly vintage, black car peaking out from inside. however, what you hadn’t noticed when sat in your own car, but were certainly aware of now that you could see inside perfectly, was a man, clad in a black tank top and track pants, leaning into the open hood of the black car.

you weren’t the type that normally stared at people, preferring to mind your business in most public spaces, but how could you not when a man built like a greek god, skin glowing from his efforts, was grunting in frustration as his arms flexed to adjust something in the depths of the vehicle, muscles defined so clearly as he fixed whatever was wrong. you tried not to think about how long it had been since you’d last gotten intimate with anyone, your ex seemingly uninterested every time you had tried to initiate anything for such a long time that you were surely only projecting your frustrations onto the poor man in front of you.

“hey! you must be the new neighbor.”

oh no, how long had you been staring.

“oh! yeah, i just moved in.”

although he had to have noticed you checking him out, he didn’t say anything about your ogling, a warm smile adorning his handsome face instead of the disgusted snarl you were prepared for.

“you’re fixing her up all by yourself?” he asks with a tick of his chin toward your house and you’re guessing he’d talked to ms. lee after she visited you.

“that’s the plan,” you nod with a chuckle, still feeling awkward from having been caught gawking at your new hot neighbor.

“my name’s yunho,” he introduces, cleaning a spot of grease off his hands with a rag before tossing it over his shoulder gently. “i’m not particularly known for my design skills but, if you ever need someone to hammer a nail or lift something heavy, feel free to ring my bell.”

you tried not to think of the double meaning of that last phrase, begging your mind to climb out of the gutter, and assured him you would before trying not to trip over your own feet on the way up to your front door.

and so your lunch break was spent thinking about the hot guy next door and how you could manage to avoid him for the rest of your life in order to steer clear of embarrassing yourself any further. of course, you could never expect for your life to go as planned.

the next week you’ve moved your focus into the kitchen, starting with the god awful cabinets that were certainly installed without a thought to the house’s time period or even functionality. although it was physically strenuous, taking a hammer to the cheap wood of those horrible cabinets was certainly helping you release some of the anger that had been simmering since the breakup. Maybe you should have printed out a picture of your ex’s face and taped it inside.

you were so focused, and making a pretty loud ruckus, that you almost didn’t hear the sound of your doorbell ringing. trying to think of who could possibly be interested in visiting you at 3 pm on a tuesday, you made your way to your front door, leaving your hammer in the kitchen but keeping your gloves on. you would have looked through the peephole of your door to determine if it was worth opening but of course the last owner of the property felt that a peephole wasn’t necessary. although, as you open the door to your neighbor, the hottie not the lady, you’re not sure a peephole would have changed your mind.

he’s in a simple outfit today, just a white t-shirt and dark jeans, but you still have to resist giving him a full glance up and down. his hair is slightly damp and based on the way you can clearly smell his smoky vanilla shampoo you can guess he’s just had a shower.

“hi,” you greet, trying not to think of the way you’re certainly looking and smelling like you’ve been dunked in a pool of your own sweat, your house currently without air conditioning and it being late spring.

“hey,” he says, the same warm smile making a reappearance as he stands on your porch.

he doesn’t say anything else and you almost wonder if maybe the heat is starting to get to you. could this be a dehydration induced hallucination?

“can i help you?” you ask after feeling like you’ve been making enough awkward eye contact, although yunho’s smile hasn’t budged.

“right!” he chirps, as though remembering what he’s doing. “i just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead or anything. i heard a lot of things breaking and some yelling, so just wanted to make sure you’re alive.” he nods, his hair bouncing slightly and for a moment he really looks like a big puppy, eyes expectant and big as he waits for you to say something.

“oh, sorry,” you apologize, not even aware that you had been yelling but to be fair, you had been really sucked into the vision of getting to hit your ex with a hammer and make him as broken as you’d felt. “i was just taking out some anger on the old kitchen cabinets.”

he cocks his head to the side and again you find your mind drawing up another comparison to a puppy. you wonder if anyone’s ever told him that before.

“you’re taking out the cabinets?” he asks, almost seeming worried and you raise a brow.

“yeah,” you say, trying not to sound defensive and hoping he doesn’t have some sort of secret attachment to the fixtures. “they don’t fit the house and they barely functioned before.”

he shakes his head at your clarification and now it’s your own turn to tilt your head in confusion.

“you’re doing that by yourself? i thought i said you could ask for my help with heavy lifting,” he explains his worry and you don’t get a chance to respond before he’s starting to walk back to his house. “i’m gonna grab some gloves and another hammer,” he calls from your yard as you watch him go. “i’ll be right back.”

so you spent the afternoon destroying your kitchen with the neighbor you had vowed to stay away from only a few days before. to your credit, you did try to refuse his help, insisting that you could do it and telling him about the lack of a/c, but of course he stood firm, pointing out that he’d already made the effort to grab his own gloves and tools. maybe you’d met your match in terms of stubbornness.

“thank you,” you’d said with sincerity as you both sat on the floor of your now bare kitchen, open pizza box between you that you were regretting letting him pay for but, again, he had insisted. “there’s gotta be some way i can pay you back,” you said as you took another bite of your slice, eyes looking at the man across from you expectantly.

“well, i can think of one way,” he says, placing his half eaten slice on his plate and brushing off his hands.

you perk up at this, eager to know what you can do to make sure he knows how appreciative you are.

“let me take you out to dinner,” he suggests and you’re glad that you’re already sitting or your knees might have buckled and forced you to sit anyway.

opposites attract

⇀ paring hydrophobic!yeosang x lifeguard!reader

⇀ wc 2.2k

⇀ warnings slightly suggestive, he’s not literally hydrophobic he’s just a hater, mention of drowning, drinking alcohol (not you)

yeosang has spent every summer since he could remember avoiding the one place his friends had managed to finally persuade him into visiting, the local water park.

now it’s not that he was deathly afraid of being in the water, in fact his parents told him that he used to love swimming as a toddler, but he just didn’t see the appeal of anything that swimming and pools had to offer. the hot ass sun forcing you to reapply sunscreen every few hours, the screaming children that would make your head pound, the gross water that had surely seen every bodily fluid, and, worst of all, the annoying ass lifeguards that yeosang just knew were judging everyone with their hypercritical stares.

“you need some vitamin d,” wooyoung says, rubbing in the sunscreen he’d just put onto his arms until the cream had become sheer. “you can’t just sit in front of your computer every day.”

yeosang scowls as his best friend passes him the sunscreen, hesitantly squeezing some of it onto his legs.

“especially if you’re trying to get back into dating,” san adds as he removes his shirt, tossing it onto the picnic table the group had claimed.

“who’s dating?” yunho asked as he joined the group, setting his bag down and pushing his sunglasses up to sit on top of his head, ready to apply sunscreen onto his face when yeosang passed the bottle to him.

“yeosang,” wooyoung says as he shoves his flip flops off, leaving them where they lay and stretching his arms above his head.

“you’re dating someone?” yunho questions, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“not yet,” san answers for him just as yeosang opens his mouth and he gives san an annoyed look.

“hey boys!”

suddenly, all three of yeosang’s friends are lighting up as they turn toward the source of the voice unfamiliar to him. each of them perks up as they return the greeting of the stranger, a lifeguard that was headed in the direction of yeosang and his friends.

“y/n!” san calls your name excitedly as you approach, stopping just outside of the shadow from the umbrella attached to the table.

“i didn’t know you were working today,” yunho says, finishing up his sunscreen application as he smiles brightly at you.

yeosang tries not to let his nerves show on his face as his eyes flick between you and his friends, always a little on edge when meeting new people but especially when that new person is particularly attractive. you’re wearing what he assumes is the typical uniform, a pair of short red swim trunks that show off your legs and a tight white tank top that leaves little to the imagination. he tries to resist the urge to let his eyes roam over the skin that’s exposed by your uniform, glowing from the summer sun, and instead he focuses on your face, shaded by the red visor you wear but expression as bright as though you’re channeling the beams from the sky above you. yeosang is tempted to bask in their warmth as your gaze flicks over to him but instead he looks away, trying to look busy as he rummages through his bag for nothing.

“sua called off today,” you explain, “so here i am.” you shrug as you gesture around yourself.

“oh, this is yeosang,” san speaks up with a harsh slap to his friends shoulder and yeosang flinches away from the touch before shoving san’s hand off.

“yeosang, this is y/n,” wooyoung provides, sliding toward you, “our favorite lifeguard.”

at his statement you reach up to pinch at wooyoung’s cheek, giving it a little shake as you let out a coo, “aw. i would say you’re my favorite patrons but i’m not in the habit of lying.” you chuckle lightly as wooyoung swats your hand away from his face with a pout.

“nice to meet you yeosang,” you greet him easily, nodding slightly and he’s thankful you didn’t reach out to shake his hand.

“you too,” he lies, not at all happy to meet someone who chooses to torture themselves out in the heat as a job.

“okay, well i’ve got to continue making my rounds, just wanted to say hi,” you explain as you back away from the group, headed back on the main path next to the pool you’re all closest to. “if you guys are staying for night swim i’m gonna be stationed at the wave pool so feel free to come chat.”

night swim, the only reason yeosang agreed to come. the local park had an adult only, alcohol provided, swim night that they hosted every other week. they would close down the more dangerous parts of the park, like the deep ends of the pools and the giant water slides, and just let people chill out in things like the wave pool and even go on the kiddie slides.

yeosang had agreed for the alcohol and the offer to be able to sit at the edge of the pool while his friends enjoyed trying not to drown as they wrested in the water. unfortunately he was not aware he would be dragged to the park while the sun was still out or when his friends were going to be chatting up the cute lifeguard the whole time, and he is an adult so he can admit you’re cute.

“you good?” yunho asks, noticing yeosang staring after you. the latter hadn’t even noticed he’d been looking straight at your butt as you retreated until his friend snapped him from his thoughts and he hoped he could blame the redness on his cheeks being the summer heat.

“yeah, yeah,” yeosang nodded finally pulling his arm out of his bag as he tried to anticipate what the group was about to pressure him to do.

he really did try to fight to just stay under the umbrella until the sun set but of course wooyoung needed him to go down the slides with him before they closed for the night and yunho had to show him the lazy river before it would be crowded with other drunk people and san demanded to go off the diving boards together before the deep end was off limits. so, because yeosang is a good friend, and his friends were extremely annoying when they whined, he did all of it. he honestly wasn’t as upset about the situation as he thought he might be, even finding himself sometimes enjoying the whole affair, but he would never admit that, he had a reputation to uphold.

lucky for yeosang and his reputation, the afternoon went by quickly and families with their sticky children trickled out as the sun set behind the horizon, initiating the start of night swim. of course as soon as he and his friends had finished their first drink and started sipping on their second yunho was quick to remind them about you over at the wave pool.

“i think i’m just gonna go back to the lazy river,” yeosang said with a jerk of his thumb toward the stack of intertubes behind himself.

“what why?” san asks, slipping his towel back off his shoulders.

“the lazy river is packed,” yunho adds, eyebrows scrunched as he looks over at it before turning to look at the wave pool that’s comparably more deserted.

wooyoung on the other hand has been paying a little too much attention to his best friend, noticing how yeosang’s eyes would flit over to you whenever you passed them during the day, and his lips curl up into the smile he always wears when he’s messing with someone. “i’m sure y/n would love to get to know you,” wooyoung grins, eyebrows wiggling before he sends yeosang a dramatic wink.

san’s mouth quickly forms an o as he realizes what wooyoung is implying and yunho just rolls his eyes at their antics, however neither are helping as wooyoung wraps his fingers around yeosang’s wrist and starts tugging him in the direction of the wave pool.

he can do nothing as he approaches the pool, not really in the mood to make a scene even if he could feel his heart climbing into his throat with every step that led them closer to you.

once the group is in sight you wave, sat on the edge of the pool with a float tube on your lap and feet dangling in the water. both of the lifeguard chairs are occupied and yeosang assumes that, because of the alcohol involved and the shutting down of half the park, lifeguards are double booked at the open areas, another lifeguard sat opposite you on the other side of the wave pool.

you smile brightly as wooyoung drags yeosang toward the edge of the pool, san and yunho shuffling behind. the latter two boys easily step into the water, not too interested in being involved in whatever scheme wooyoung has cooked up. wooyoung however ignores the pool in favor of sidling up right next to you.

you have to crane your neck to look up at the boys and yeosang moves his head to look at the water, feeling like a little kid as wooyoung still hasn’t let go of his wrist and does the talking for him.

“hey,” wooyoung greets you easily. “yeosang’s not a fan of the wave pool. do you mind if he sits with you while we swim?”

it’s not an entire lie, this spot being yeosang’s least favorite in the whole park, but he’s not too interested in sitting next to you in silence while his friends laugh at him. he knows it will be silent because he’s certainly not confident enough to start conversation, plus you have a whole job to do, and he’s certain his friends will be laughing at him because they’ve already noticed his attraction to you.

“sure,” you agree, to a bit of shock from yeosang, and pat the concrete next to you, shifting the tube on your lap so that it’s not in the way.

“great!” wooyoung declares but yeosang certainly doesn’t agree as he gets shoved to the spot you patted and a harsh push on his shoulder encourages him to take a seat. “have fun,” wooyoung adds before he’s scurrying off to join yunho and san.

there’s barely enough time to process that his best friend has abandoned him before you’re speaking up.

“so, not a fan of the wave pool,” you prompt and yeosang spares a glance at you.

you’re still looking over the pool, scanning for any danger or situations to whistle at people about.

“uh yeah,” he answers plainly, placing the cup he’s surprised didn’t spill during wooyoung’s tugging on the ground between you two. “i mean, don’t really like water parks in general so,” he explains with a shrug, venturing to put one of his legs into the edge of the pool, the other still tucked underneath him.

“really?” you ask like you’re actually surprised, like you’ve never actually met someone that didn’t like a water park, but based on your profession he’s sure you probably don’t often run into people who don’t frequent any pool.

he doesn’t answer, just shrugging once more as he watches the way the water ripples whenever he shifts his foot under the water.

“any particular reason?” you ask and yeosang ventures another glance at you, this time making eye contact with him as you’ve turned your head to face him. “i mean you don’t seem to be scared of water or anything,” you say as you gesture toward his leg that hangs off the ledge.

instead of returning to hold your float tube you place the hand you’d used on the concrete, leaning toward yeosang just slightly and he can smell a hint of the sunscreen you’d been reapplying through the day as well as something that he assumes is a cologne or perfume you must of sprayed on during your break. it makes his brain feel a bit fuzzy as you tilt your head at him, waiting for an answer.

“uh, i don’t know.” he can practically hear wooyoung judging his bland response and tries to rack his brain for anything else to say. “just don’t find it interesting i guess.”

you hum in acknowledgment, nodding slowly as you observe yeosang and even though the hot sun went down over an hour ago he feels like he might melt.

“so there’s nothing specific about it you hate?” you pry, taking another quick glance over the pool to make sure no one drowned when you weren’t looking before you return your gaze to the man beside you.

yeosang reaches out for his drink and realizes a moment too late how close your hand is to the cup, his fingers brushing against your warm skin and causing a tingle to shoot up his arm. you don’t mention the contact but yeosang swears he sees the corner of your mouth tick up as he takes a swig of his beverage, placing the cup on the other side of himself once he’s swallowed.

“no secret hate for lifeguards or anything right?” you continue to interrogate him, a teasing tone seeping into your words.

he could mention how he thinks you’re all overbearing and judgemental but he’s not sure that would work in his favor right now considering you don’t seem to actually be all that bad.

“no,” he says with a shake of his head, eyes not leaving your own.

at that your smile seems to grow, eyes holding a sparkle of something yeosang can’t quite read.

“good,” you respond, “because that would make asking you out a lot harder.”

marriage pact

⇀ paring ex best friend!san x heartbroken!reader

⇀ wc 1.1k

⇀ warnings therapy mentions/appointment, previous heartbreak, reader feels a lot of guilt, reader cries, cursing

you wish, with everything in your power, that you could reverse time, or maybe just knock some sense into your 14 year old self, and maybe you technically could, if you only shoved everything back in the shoebox and put it back on the shelf. then it would sit where it had for years before, except instead of dust, it would collect guilt, your guilt, every time you passed and remembered what was in it. your high school diary, a few birthday cards, notes with ink so faded the words were indecipherable, a paper clipped stack of photo booth strips, and one intact copy of the marriage pact you’d made with your best friend choi san, well, your high school best friend. why did you have to find it now, just as you’re reaching the age which you’d either need to be already married or fulfill your half of the contract by saying “i do”?

you think for a moment that you could simply throw out the entire box, but you’re too sentimental for that, it’s why the box had been with you so long in the first place, but now the memories, that should have been happily contained, have come to seep back into your life and the heartbreak taints every single one.

you could throw away just the pact, but your trash stinks enough already and you can practically hear the voice of your therapist telling you how it’s just an opportunity, an excuse, to reach out and maybe mend something that’s been broken for so long.

damn her for being right all the time.

and so you call, hoping his number is still the same or you’ll have wasted all your worrying for nothing. there’s nothing to indicate it’s his voicemail box, the generic computer voice reading out it’s typical prompt, but you might as well. if it’s a wrong number they’ll simply never call you back and you’ll go on with your life, as best you can.

“hey, i’m not sure if this is the right number. i’m trying to reach choi san. i’m-“ you pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to describe yourself. “i’m an old friend,” you settle on. “so, yeah. if you can give me a call back, i just needed,” you pause again. did you need to? maybe you should’ve written a script just in case. “wanted,” you amend, “to talk.” you pause again, wondering how you should end before the line beeps, signaling it’s been ended for you.

at your appointment the next day, your therapist seems proud, even as you try to change the subject, work around your feelings. she manages, as she always does, to steer you back on track, approach your emotions head on, and as she makes you recount the memories, and sensations, attached to the items in the shoebox, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. your first instinct is to silence it and so you do, barely registering the action before you’re sucked back into your session. only after you’ve penciled in your next meeting do you register that you’d sent a call to voicemail.

“hi y/n,” he starts easily and his voice has the hair on the back of your neck rising.

“i’m sorry i missed your call yesterday,” and he sounds genuinely apologetic. “i actually wanted to talk to you too i was just really busy until right now. i’m free for the rest of the day, so if you get a chance call me back. lo-“ your breath hitches at his mistake, forcing you to realize how shallowly you’d been inhaling the entirety of the message. “bye,” he concludes, an emptiness in his tone, before the message ends.

as you sit in your car, still in the parking lot of your therapist’s office, you remember that you had intentionally left out your name when leaving your message and that even after all these years, all this time apart, he can still recognize you by your voice alone, no matter how garbled by phone speaker quality.

you toss around the idea of waiting until you get back to your place to call but you can feel the nerves starting to tangle your stomach and are certain that you’ll have talked yourself out of it by the time you would get there. instead, you call back.

he picks up on the second ring.

“hi.”

he sounds like he’s smiling and you hope that’s a good sign, not an indication that he’s about to laugh at you and tell you to fuck off.

“hi,” you breath in response, probably a little pathetic.

“you wanted to talk?” he supplies and if you could get out of your own head you might pin the statement as sounding a bit teasing, maybe even a hint flirty, but you can barely register anything when everything you’ve wanted to say for the past few years is suddenly all mingling at the front of your consciousness.

“uh yeah,” you confirm plainly, trying to will your mouth to create any other sound.

as if he can sense your distress, just as he always had, san speaks up for you and says the words that had settled on the back of your tongue, “do you remember that pact we made when we were 14?”

in the moment you feel like it’s the right thing to say but as soon as the words are out of your mouth you anticipate the moments you’ll lie awake at night berating yourself for them.

“i love you and i’m sorry i made you hate me.”

you feel like you’re waiting for the storm to finally hit as your words are met with pregnant silence, san’s breath on the other end of the line as clear as if he were sat in your passenger seat, and for a moment you allow yourself to imagine just that.

“i never hated you,” he says with clear exasperation, seemingly surprised. “have you thought i’ve hated you this whole time?”

you nod shakily before remembering that he can’t see you and muttering a broken, “yes.”

“i’m so sorry,” he acknowledges before shushing you gently, and only at the sound of his comfort do you realize that you had started sobbing.

you try to calm yourself, your heavy breaths pacifying into watery hiccups as san eases you back from your sudden emotional release.

“can i tell you something?” san says after a moment and you nod once again before chuckling at yourself and verbally confirming he can.

“i love you too,” he says with an ease that almost makes you jealous. “so can we talk more about that pact?”

love at first sight

⇀ paring clumsy!mingi x er nurse!reader

⇀ wc 1.9k

⇀ warnings lots of eye talk, hospital setting

it was well known in the er that the full moon night shift was bound to be chaotic, something about the energy of the phase making people feel like they’re invincible and leading them to accidents that seemed next to impossible to occur. even if you weren’t superstitious about any of that astrological stuff, you couldn’t ignore the evidence as this night, like every full moon before it, brought you a plethora of patients that each had a problem more severe or strange than the last. you were quickly running out of beds and soon you’d run out of space in the waiting room as you noticed another person entering through the sliding glass doors.

“this is the busiest i’ve ever seen it,” chae, the triage nurse stationed at the front desk says as you move past her to the file folder, ready to grab the next patient to take back. she was new to the emergency department, a sweetheart who’d done all her clinicals in your pediatrics department and therefore had never seen the full moon effect.

“your first full moon,” you note, digging through the file folder to pull out the next one and look at the name. “you’re doing great,” you note with a gentle pat on her shoulder.

she smiles at you appreciatively before turning to address the patient quickly approaching the desk.

you take a glance into the file in your hands. “painful eyes, difficulty seeing. possible hazardous material in eyes,” the intake form reads and you sigh. what does “possible” mean in this situation?

“song mingi,” you call out into the waiting area and a rather tall man, eyes shut tightly, pops up from his seat immediately, another shorter man following suit and reaching out a hand to stabilize the taller as he stumbles. they both make their way to you, the shorter guiding the taller so he doesn’t bump into anyone or anything on his way.

“mingi?” you ask gesturing toward the one who clearly is having eye problems while looking at the other, seemingly fine, man and he only nods.

“i’m his brother, hongjoong,” the shorter one says and they don’t seem to resemble each other very much but you think nothing of it, more interested in treating your patient, who appears to be in quiet a bit of pain, then anything else.

“you can both follow me,” you say, scanning your badge to open the door and moving just slower than you might normally to allow hongjoong to lead mingi.

once you arrive to one of the empty rooms hongjoong guides mingi to sit on the bed, muttering about how stupid he is, before taking a seat himself on one of the plastic chairs off to the side.

you pay no mind to the muffled communication of the men as you place mingi’s folder onto the counter next to the sink and move to start taking his vitals. they both go silent as you wrap the blood pressure cuff around his arm, clipping the pulse oximeter onto his finger as well.

all of his vitals come back normal, only slightly elevated, as expected, because of the stress and pain, and you note them onto his chart.

“so what did you do to your eyes,” you ask as you go to remove the blood pressure cuff.

“uh well,” mingi starts his voice strained with a mix of pain and embarrassment, “i was trying to scare my friend and he was, uh, holding air freshener.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes as you assume what happened next in his story.

“okay,” you say with a nod, putting the cuff you’d removed back in the basket and taking down notes on his chart. “did you try rinsing your eyes?”

he swallows thickly, his adams apple bobbing, and you let out a silent sigh as you prepare for whatever else must have went wrong.

“we tried,” he says a little shakily, “but the bottle must have had leftover cleaner or something in it.”

of course it did. you hold yourself back from asking how or why and glance at hongjoong who looks as exasperated as you feel, eyes closed and fingers massaging his temples.

“so you don’t know what the cleaner was?” you ask and mingi shakes his head, wincing as he squeezes his eyes tighter.

“can i take a look at your eyes?” you ask as you set down his chart, grabbing the pen light out of your scrub pocket.

“uh sure,” he says but you can hear the hesitation once again.

“okay, i’m going to hold your eye open for a second,” you explain, adjusting the bed so that his eyes are level with your own. “i’m going to shine a light into them just so i can make sure there’s no debris and they’re dilating properly.”

he gulps again and you know that he’s preparing for it to be painful.

“okay,” he says, a little more determined, and you place your fingers on his eyelid, starting with his left eye.

you try to move as quickly as you can, not wanting it to be too painful, but his hurt grunts are still audible as you check both eyes. fortunately, they’re dilating fine and you can’t see any damage or debris.

“they look alright,” you note aloud, slipping the light back in your pocket and writing more on his chart. “let’s just get your eyes properly flushed and some antibiotic drops in there, then we can see how they’re doing.”

mingi’s shoulders relax a little at this and you start to make your way toward the door, heading out to grab the irrigation tubing and kidney dish as well as ask another nurse to prepare the drops you’ll need.

“will he need to stay overnight?” hongjoong asks as you open the door and you turn back to him.

“we’ll want to keep him for at least an hour after we administer the drops to make sure that nothing gets worse but if he’s cleared up by then you’ll be able to go,” you explain and hongjoong nods as you leave.

flushing his eyes takes a moment as he fights to close his eyes a lot during the process, which is understandable, but the eye drops are worse, managing to get his eyes closed right before the solution hits his eyeball no matter how well you manage to hold his eye lids. eventually, with the help of another nurse holding his lids while you administer the drops, you manage to give him the proper dosage and leave him to check on another patient. you promise to return in an hour and instruct both men on how to use the nurse call button in case anything happens before then.

“he’s kind of cute,” chae, now munching on a granola bar as she takes her break behind the nurse’s station, says as you approach. “in like a himbo way,” she elaborates when you raise a brow at her, only shrugging as she take another bite.

you shake your head in slight disappointment. “he’s my patient,” you say. “i’m not really focused on how attractive he is.”

“so you agree he’s attractive,” chae chimes, peeking up for a moment before you roll your eyes.

“i’m not doing this with you again,” is your only response, moving past her to continue with your work.

an hour later you knock gently on the door of mingi’s room before entering to find hongjoong still in the plastic chair, phone in hand as he scrolls, and mingi asleep on the bed, the heartbeat monitor beeping quietly. you take that as a good sign.

“hello,” you greet hongjoong before you move toward the bed, preparing to wake your patient.

hongjoong greets you in return, tucking his phone away so he can pay attention to what you’re doing.

you take a brief glance at the heartbeat and oxygen monitor, noticing that his vitals are normal before taping mingi on the shoulder with enough force to jostle him awake. he grunts slightly before stretching, eyes scrunching up for a moment before they blink open.

“good morning,” you say with a teasing grin and mingi turns to face you.

suddenly the beeping of the monitor that had been steady and slow before is increasing rapidly and your head whips to look at it with surprise.

“you don’t have a heart condition do you?” you ask with concern, brows furrowing as you turn back to look at mingi once again.

his face and ears are bright red and his eyes go wide before he sits up with a start. “uh no, i don’t,” he rushes out, his words shaky as he lowers his gaze to his hands that now sit in his lap, messing with the clip on his pointer finger as though he wants to remove it.

“is everything okay?” you ask with genuine concern. “what’s wrong?”

mingi clears his throat and keeps his gaze firmly focused on his hands as he answers, “nothing. i just- you’re really cute.”

“oh my god,” you hear hongjoong huff in disbelief before his face drops into his hand, eyes covered in what you can only assume is embarrassment.

now it’s your turn to blush, a heat creeping onto your cheeks as you try to calm your own heart.

“oh,” you breathe, trying to collect your thoughts and remain professional. “thank you,” you say quickly before you hurry to take the clip off his finger, ignoring the heat of his skin against your own as your hand brushes his own.

“how are your eyes?” you ask, your own gaze moving about the room sheepishly.

“good,” he chirps, voice cracking slightly.

“good,” you mirror with a sharp nod. “i’m, uh, going to write you a prescription for antibiotic drops and just use those twice a day for the next two weeks,” you say, returning to business. “just come back if they get worse.”

mingi nods, still not looking at you and you clear your throat.

“thank you,” hongjoong says for mingi, and you nod in response.

you leave as quickly as you can, eager to be rid of the weird energy that had been created in the room. luckily your shift is close to over and one of the other nurse practitioners catches the way you’re acting a bit weird as you file the prescription, telling you to go home early and she’ll cover for you. you fight for a moment before finally giving in and deciding to make a quick stop at the 24-hour convenience store on the way home.

“oh!” a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts about which late night snack to pick and you turn quickly to see none other than song mingi standing before you, a look of surprise on his face as he looks at you.

“hi,” you squeak, just as surprised.

you feel your blush from earlier returning and turn back to face the shelf you’d been browsing.

“i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable before,” mingi says, keeping his distance but not looking away from you.

you shake your head and glance at him for a moment. “oh no,” you reassure, “i just wasn’t prepared.” you let out a slightly nervous laugh.

mingi hums thoughtfully and nods slowly, taking an experimental step toward you.

“could i ask you something?” he requests and you turn to face him fully.

“sure,” you reply with a gentle shrug.

“let me know if i’m overstepping,” he begins, eyes flicking from yours to the shelf of snacks and back, “but could i get your number?”

enemies to lovers

⇀ paring chef!wooyoung x host!reader

⇀ wc 2.1k

⇀ warnings wooyoung is mean, discussion of food and eating, mentions of bullying in high school

so maybe your job wasn’t the worst, and most of your coworkers were pretty manageable, but wooyoung, he’s what made it unbearable at times. you’d already asked your manager to be scheduled for when he wasn’t, but he’d explained that you were the best one up front and he was the best in the kitchen, so of course you’re both going to be scheduled during the restaurant’s busiest times. “plus maybe it will force you two to work out whatever’s wrong.”

what your manager didn’t account for was that there was no working out what was wrong, considering it had been nothing that you were aware of. wooyoung had simply looked at you on your first day and decided he hated you. could you have asked why? of course, but you’re not sure he would have told you because to every question you asked him he would simply huff and roll his eyes, telling you to ask someone else.

his little act had quickly gotten on your nerves and so you were fast to return his disdain, deciding that his uncalled for behavior was enough of a reason to hate him.

“you know, if you just talked to him you could make everyone’s lives just a little bit easier,” soonha, you’re favorite waitress, says as she unties her apron and makes sure all her pens are organized in the pockets before placing it in her locker.

she’d been listening to you complain about everything wooyoung had done during your shift that had pissed you off, from as small as walking in a minute late to the way he’d complained about you blocking his path when you were eating a snack in an empty corner of the kitchen, a spot you’d chosen because it was specifically out of the way. of course the worst had been when he’d sided with a patron that was lying about their wait time, almost getting you in trouble with the manager on duty before you actually showed her the patron’s check-in timer.

“he’s the one with the problem,” you scoff, pushing your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “he should be the one talking to me. you know he didn’t even apologize today.”

soonha only rolls her eyes, shutting her locker before a look of surprise takes over her features and she’s whipping around to you.

“oh my gosh, i totally forgot i told kay that i would restock her citruses,” the waitress says, pulling out what you can assume is a list from the bartender, kay, of the number of lemons, limes, and oranges that needed to be brought up to the bar.

“hey let me do that,” you say, grabbing the slip of paper from her hand.

“are you sure?” she says, although the way she glances at the back door tells you that she’s not too attached to the task.

“of course,” you reassure. “you’ve got the baby at home, go,” you encourage her and she’s basically running out the back door.

“they’re just in cold storage,” she reminds you quickly as the door shuts behind her and you chuckle with a gentle shake of your head in amusement.

the task is easy enough, grabbing a small empty cardboard box from the deserted kitchen as you make your way to the walk-in refrigerator, noticing that the kitchen staff all appear to have left for the night and thanking whatever higher power was watching over you for not making you the last person in the restaurant with wooyoung.

it’s been a while since you’d actually been inside cold storage, your job description not calling for it unless you were being an extra hand for bartending, although that was something that most of your staff asked the waiters for. this mostly meant that you couldn’t remember if it was normal for the door to click like that when it closed behind you. obviously that didn’t matter much anyway and so you just continue with the task at hand, searching for wherever kitchen staff had put citruses when they were rearranging.

as you’re reaching above your head to grab a handful of lemons to place in your trusty cardboard box the door to cold storage is suddenly cracking open, nearly causing you to have a heart attack as you’d believed you were the last person in the building. to your dismay, in walks the last person you’d probably ever want to see, possibly even over some robber interested in making off with your cold stock, wooyoung. he takes a moment before he registers that it’s you and the familiar scowl takes over his features, adjusting the large box in his arms.

you try to appear unaffected by his presence, taking a breath to calm your racing heart at the shock from a moment ago and turning back to counting your lemons. you sigh as you realize he must have been in dry storage when you passed through the kitchen and curse yourself for getting your hopes up about this task being easy.

the door makes that same click as it closes behind him but you don’t hear wooyoung react, moving to the shelf right behind you and standing with his back only inches from your own. the box he’s holding makes a soft thump as it hits the ground and you clearly hear the tape ripping off the top. from what you can tell he seems to be placing whatever was in the box into the crate on the shelf behind you and you’re trying so hard not to pay attention to him as you continue your own job.

soon enough your little box is filled with the correct number of fruits, you even double checked your counting, and you turn to leave the fridge as wooyoung starts to breakdown his now empty box. however, you don’t get very far, the door not budging when you place pressure against the handle.

you let out a huff as you place your box down and grab the handle with both hands. when the door still doesn’t move you lean your shoulder against it, trying to use your body weight to leverage the thing open.

“what are you doing?”

you feel your skin prickle at his voice, obviously annoyed with whatever antics he thinks you’re up to now, and you turn around as slowly as you can manage, face blank.

“the door is stuck,” you explain and wooyoung’s face scrunches up in response before he’s moving toward you.

“move,” he demands and you slide off to the side before he can place his hand on your shoulder to move you himself.

of course he’d taken off his chef coat, leaving him in just his white undershirt and black slacks, and you resist the urge to watch his arms as he gives a harsh push to the door. unfortunately for the both of you, his shoving is just as successful as yours was and you roll your eyes at him.

“what the fuck did you do?” he says, turning to you with anger painting his features.

if you didn’t hate him you might have found him slightly attractive now, gaze dark and sharp as he looked right through you, but he had some vendetta against you and therefore you had one against him.

“me?” you say in disbelief. “why do you think i had something to do with this?”

he scoffs and it’s probably a sound you would be able to identify in your sleep at this point, having heard it so often.

“you always do,” he mutters and you don’t know what to say in response, opting instead to just roll your eyes once more and chalking it up to whatever mystery grudge he’s holding against you.

“whatever, i’ll just call-“ you cut yourself off as you dig your hands into your jacket pockets and realize that your phone is still sat inside of your open locker in the break room. “never mind,” you mumble as you pull your hands from your pockets and decide to just take a seat on the chilly floor.

“right,” wooyoung says looking down at you with one eyebrow raised before he’s pulling his own phone from his pocket.

you’re barely listening as he speaks with whoever he calls, only picking out a few words here and there as you start to realize the predicament you’re in. of all the people to be trapped with.

“mingyu should be here in half an hour or so,” wooyoung tells you before he joins you on the floor, sitting across from you. “he told us not to kill each other in the meantime.”

you just flick your eyes up to him, your expression passive, before you go back to counting the floor tiles.

you’re not sure you’ll survive until help arrives, the first minute going by in a silence that feels like it’s crawling along your skin, threatening to eat you whole. by the second minute you’ve counted all the tiles on the floor that you can see five times and have moved onto counting the crates behind wooyoung. maybe you can go through and count the things in the crates next.

“what are you doing?”

you’re tempted not to answer him but you have a feeling he’ll ask again and the only thing worse than loosing count once is loosing count twice.

“counting,” you say plainly, starting with the crates again, however, you don’t even get close to where you’d left off last time when he speaks again.

“well, stop,” he says and you make sure he sees your look of confusion and annoyance. “you’re making me paranoid,” he elaborates and you just huff, turning you head so that he’s no longer in your line of sight.

“why do you hate me?”

you immediately don’t want to hear the answer and you whip your head back to him, worry on your features as you prepare to take it back.

except you don’t take it back, his face painted with bewilderment causing you to pause. he looks as though he can’t understand why you would ask, as though the answer was written on his forehead and you should simply be able to read it.

“are you trying to tell me you don’t remember?” he asks, and it’s the first time you can recall him being genuine with you.

you shake your head with a similar look of confusion.

“high school,” he supplies as though it will jog your memory.

the only problem is that it doesn’t, you didn’t go to high school with wooyoung, in fact you didn’t go to high school with anyone you work with, because you only moved to the area after graduating.

“wooyoung,” you start as you watch his features begin to soften, “the first time i met you was here, on my first day.”

he shakes his head with force, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“you were in that group, with miri, that always laughed at me,” he continues in disbelief, continuing to ramble about this group of bullies, and you feel your heart sink.

“wooyoung,” you repeat to catch his attention and he silenced himself. “i didn’t go to high school with you.”

you watch as his shoulders, which had lifted with every word that had come out of his mouth only moments ago, drop back down and he pales, eyes wide as he really sees you for the first time.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his eyes filled with regret as he remembers every little thing he’s done to make your life at work a living hell for as long as you’ve worked here. “i’m so, so sorry.”

“honestly,” you begin, processing everything that’s happened within the last few minutes, “if i thought someone i worked with was my high school bully, i would probably do the same things you did,” you say with a chuckle and you can see a blush start to tint wooyoung’s cheeks.

there’s a moment of quiet, one that feels like the polar opposite of the silence you sat in before, and you feel like you can clearly see the gears turning inside of wooyoung’s mind.

“did you eat dinner?” he asks finally, looking at you expectantly.

you just shake your head and watch as a bashful grin makes its way onto his face.

“can we start over?” he suggests. “i can make us something,” he adds, not oblivious to the way the other chefs had bribed you with food in the past. “after mingyu saves us, of course.”

right on cue you can hear someone puttering around in the kitchen, heading your way.

“sure,” you nod gently, a soft grin on your face, as wooyoung stands, offering his hand to you.

brother’s best friend

⇀ paring soccer player!jongho x sports photographer!reader

⇀ wc 1.8k

⇀ warnings cat-calling, jongho punches somebody, cursing, implications of harassment

you’d had a crush on your older brother’s best friend, jongho, for as long as you could remember, a secret that you’d kept to yourself just as long. unfortunately, within the last few years it had gotten much more difficult to hide this little fact, partly due to the fact that you’d managed to become best friends with probably the worst secret keeper on your college campus but, mostly because you were forced by your job to interact with him more than ever.

you were one of the student sports photographers on campus, assigned to photograph the men’s soccer team in the fall, a team which jongho and your brother were apart of. that was how they met in middle school, your brother the school’s goalie while jongho played midfield, and you hadn’t known peace since. of course you loved being able to pursue your passion and get paid for it, but with each game that you had to attend it was becoming more and more difficult to focus on your job.

jongho had grown a lot during the summer before his freshman year, the training for the team intense but rewarding, and suddenly you weren’t the only one with a more than platonic interest in the boy. by sophomore year, he was a star player, attracting the attention of those who weren’t even interested in soccer, or any sport for that matter. people would start to come to games just to see jongho sweaty and focused. now, as you and jongho began your junior years, your brother a senior, your jealousy was starting to peak.

“don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if it wasn’t your job,” billie, your best friend and roommate, said as you threw another dirty look to the group of girls that had been shouting jongho’s name every five seconds.

you’d been complaining to her about all the attention on jongho, openly admitting your jealousy as she’d managed to pry the information of your crush out of you last year.

“i wouldn’t scream his name and distract him from his game,” you bite, bringing the viewfinder back up to your eye and following the ball as someone on the opposing team threw it back into play.

your job required you to attend every soccer game, and the occasional practice, to get shots for the campus newspaper and website. billie had started to tag along as your assistant at the beginning of this semester, claiming to just be happy to hang out with you even if she wasn’t getting paid, totally not because she had a crush on your brother or anything.

“right,” billie says with a nod, adjusting the strap of your camera bag on her shoulder, “because you can get his attention without all the drama.”

your best friend had gotten some weird idea in her head that jongho was secretly in love with you, an idea that had prompted her to dig into your feelings for jongho in the first place. you tried not to listen, not wanting to let her feed any sort of delusion that you and jongho were somehow possible.

“you know, when you said you would be my assistant, i thought you meant like helping me, not being annoying,” you say sarcastically, snapping a few pictures as your attacking midfielder managed to get control of the ball.

“maybe you’re being annoying,” billie pouts in response. “i’m just saying what i see.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes, trying to focus on who has the ball and what moments to capture.

“am i not an objective party?” she asks and you have no idea where she’s heading with this argument. “you’ve known him for years and so you’re set that he doesn’t see you that way. i’m a fresh set of eyes to tell you the truth!”

you scoff at her. “you said yourself i’ve known him for years, wouldn’t that mean i know him better? so i know that he’s not interested?” you argue, players surrounding the ball and crowding your lens.

“you’re biased,” she says with a sense of finality and you pull your camera away from your face, deciding to glance through some of the pictures you’d just taken to see if you needed to adjust any of your settings. the lighting had changed a bit since the beginning of the game.

“yeah,” you agree after a moment, “and you’re a hopeless romantic.”

you turn and trek around down the field, looking for a new angle. you hear billie running after you, your camera bag bouncing against her hip gently and you remind yourself to at least buy her dinner after this as thanks for following you around for 90 minutes.

just as you both reach the other side of the field, the referee is blowing a whistle to signal the start of halftime and you sigh, glad to already be on the side of the field where the players benches are. you weren’t required to get pictures of players on the bench or any of the team huddled, but you liked to. they made good shots to advertise the team pride and allowed everyone to have professional pictures, even if they didn’t play in that game.

“hey y/n, hey billie,” you brother says as he passes you both, jogging toward the bench to grab his water and take a rest.

billie lights up and waves as he passes, you only roll your eyes, following after your brother to get closer to the bench.

“make sure you get my left, it’s my best side,” one of the players, hojin, says jokingly as you snap a wide shot of all the players sat on the bench.

you chuckle lightly, enjoying your banter with the players, as you continue to get a few more wide angles.

“what’s your name sexy?” you hear someone call behind you and turn to see one of the players of the opposing team looking right at you.

you don’t say anything for a moment, kind of shocked that anyone on the opposing team was talking to you as that had never happened before. you recognized him as their center midfielder, opposite jongho for a majority of the game.

“none of you business!” billie calls back for you, linking her arm with your own and pulling you closer to your team.

the guy doesn’t seem all that discouraged at first, sending you a wink before his eyes flick to something, or someone, behind you and his face drops.

you turn around just in time to see your brother sitting back on the bench, features sharp, and jongho turning to look at their coach, anger clear on his face.

you try not to think anything of it, knowing that your brother and jongho were naturally very protective, as billie tugs on your arm that’s still linked with hers.

“c’mon,” she says, “don’t forget to get your huddle shot.”

you try to return to business as normal once the game resumes, making sure to get a few key pictures that are always a hit for article features, but you’ve started to let your camera drift centerfield, toward jongho. except unlike other times this has happened it’s not simply because you’re being distracted by how handsome he looks. he’s started getting a bit aggressive with the player opposite him, the one that had called to you during halftime, and you watch through your lens as the player says something to jongho. whatever he said must have really upset jongho because just as you’re pulling away from the viewfinder he reels back and sends his fist right into the other guy’s face.

you feel your blood run cold as you watch the whole interaction unfold, a ref blowing the whistle sharply as he runs to centerfield. your brother, who had been on the bench, bolts for jongho, other players from both teams moving in to break up whatever is happening. somehow the other player manages to remain standing after the hit, stumbling back a bit, and jongho takes a few steps forward with a raised fist before your brother gets to him and pulls him back.

“what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you hear your brother saying as he drags jongho toward the bench.

you hand billie your camera, telling her you’ve got enough for today and that she can just mess around with it before you stomp toward the bench yourself. your best friend sends you a slightly concerned, if not sympathetic, look as you leave but does as you say.

“are you crazy?” you say once you get to where jongho is sat, your brother popping a disposable ice pack and placing it onto his hand.

“if you’re here to lecture me i don’t need it,” jongho grunts. “i already know it was a bad idea.”

you scoff in disbelief as your eyebrows shoot up. “a bad idea? it was unbelievably stupid! what in the world would posses you to do something like that?”

jongho looks up at you for a moment, eyes blank, before looking at your brother who’s stood next to you, looking at his best friend expectantly.

“well?” you brother says, crossing his arms.

“some people should just keep their mouth shut,” jongho says looking down at his hand that’s covered by the ice pack and you scoff again, crossing your own arms.

“jongho,” you say sternly and he looks up at you again, eyes almost pleading for you not to press further. “i know you. this is not you.”

he shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, before saying, “maybe it is.”

you sigh, sitting down next to jongho and placing a hand gently on top of his forearm.

“no it’s not,” you insist, much softer as you rub your thumb along his arm soothingly.

your own palm tingles at the sensation of his skin against yours but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

jongho looks at your hand on him for a moment before glancing up at your face. after a moment he turns to where your brother is still standing and ticks his head in some sort of signal that has your brother patting jongho’s shoulder once before leaving you both.

“you asked if i was crazy,” jongho starts, turning to meet your slightly confused gaze. “i am crazy,” he says with a humorless laugh, “crazy for you.”

your thumb stops it’s movements as you freeze, wondering if you’re hearing him right.

“i couldn’t let him get away with what he was saying about you,” jongho explains. “i just snapped.”

you close your eyes, shaking your head like you’re trying to get rid of the thoughts clouding your judgement, before you ask, “can we go back to the part where you’re crazy?”

he chuckles again and you open your eyes to see a soft smile on his face.

“i’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you for years y/n,” he says, a blush dusting his cheeks.

your own lips curl into a smile as you reply, “that’s impossible because i’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you for years jongho.”

↼ ateez masterlist

note hope you enjoyed and these couples may be making a reappearance at some point in the future (also if you genuinely want to know the hangul just translates to “hey, where are you from”)

feedback always appreciated

ateez members reaction to you crying at a movie

⇀ genre fluff, comfort, dusting of angst

⇀ style reactions/headcanons

⇀ warnings crying obvi, physical comforting (hugs, hand holding, rubbing back/thigh, wiping tears)

note so me and the bestie saw the barbie movie and i cried so much and so this was born

seonghwa

goes to grab your hand the second he notices you sniffling or wiping your cheeks

he’ll give your hand gentle squeezes as he just lets you feel your emotions out

tears up from watching you cry but doesn’t fully cry with you because he’s focused on being your stability through the moment

might ask you if you want to talk about it after but also might not address it unless you bring it up first, especially if you don’t behave particularly sad once the movie ends

hongjoong

hands you way too many tissues and ends up making you laugh while he blushes

he was just trying to be helpful

his eyes will keep switching between the screen and your face as he decides whether he should pull you into a hug or hold your hand or just let you cry it out

if you cry particularly hard he will pull you into his chest and rub your back soothingly

will absolutely ask you about it after and keep a close eye on you even if you’re perfectly fine

yunho

starts crying with you almost immediately, just seeing you cry makes him want to cry

pulls you into a big bear hug and might even pull you to sit on his lap

is wiping your tears away with his hands and doesn’t even touch his own, although he’d find it very sweet if you wipe his away in return

he will say something after but not ask you about it, just addressing it so you know you can talk if you want but don’t have to

yeosang

he knew you were going to cry and already had tissues held out in his hands for you as soon as your first tears fall

will trail a comforting hand along your spine gently to soothe you, may even trace some shapes or words onto your back with his fingers

if it’s toward the beginning or middle of the movie, he’ll have your hand in his for the rest of the film

asks if you’re okay after but doesn’t press you to talk about it in detail if you don’t want to

san

crying with you part 2

partly because of the movie and partly because you’re crying

rests his head on your shoulder and passes you a tissue while he uses one himself

will become super cuddly and clingy, not wanting to let go of you as he basically wraps himself around one of your arms

he’ll want to talk about it after, more for himself, wanting to relate to you about how sad that part was

mingi

honestly freezes at first and panics internally a bit

frantically digging for tissues and uses them to wipe your tears for you

eventually you’ll have to take the tissues from him if you actually want to see the movie because his face and hand will be blocking the screen

watching you out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the film and placing his hand on your thigh to give you some comforting rubs with his thumb

he absolutely asks if you’re okay after even if you’ve already explained that you’re fine

wooyoung

might not notice at first and then when he does his reaction will depend on how serious you are

he’ll start by teasing you a bit, asking if you’re really crying, and if you laugh or jokingly respond to him he’ll continue to tease you about it while he hands you a tissue or uses the end of his sleeve to dry your tears

if you only cry harder or get a bit mad at him he’ll pull back and apologize, holding your face in his hands and using his thumbs to wipe away your tears as they fall

afterwards, he’ll continue to tease you, as long as you aren’t actually sad or hurt

if you are sad he’ll make sure you know you can talk to him about anything bothering you

jongho

lets you just cry through it, comfortingly rubbing your arm to let you know he’s there

only hands you tissues if you ask for them, otherwise he might let your tears fall to your chin before wiping them off himself

doesn’t make you hold his hand but will leave his hand out, palm up and open, for the rest of the movie if you do want to hold it

is silent after, just looking at you expectantly until you mention it but if you avoid the subject he’ll give you hints to talk about it, mentioning the scene broadly or saying something about how emotional the movie was

↼ ateez masterlist

birthday by ten

you give your boyfriend his final birthday gift, a performance you’re sure he’ll never forget

⇀ pairing mingi x reader

⇀ genre suggestive fluff

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 2.2k

⇀ warnings reader dances suggestively, lots of touch/grabbing, kissing

note happy mingi day, i busted this little thing out for his birthday and i hope you enjoy (barely proofread so excuse that)

“i have one last gift,” you said with a tap to mingi’s shoulder as he closed the front door behind himself, toeing his shoes off and starting to bend down to help you with your own before your hand makes its way under his chin and pulls him back up.

he looks surprised when you stop him at first, face crinkled in confusion before he sees the smirk on your lips and his own features change to match yours. “which is,” he trails off and starts to lean in, lips puckered slightly as he expects for you to close the distance and give him a kiss. however, you only take a step back, fingers trailing gently down his arm before you grasp his hand and lead him further into your apartment.

his eyes never leave your form, even as you push him to sit down on the couch and try to move away from him again. he doesn’t let you at first, keeping your hand firmly enclosed in his as long as he can manage before finally allowing you to escape him.

you take a breath to push the nerves down for a moment as you make your way to the center of the room, pulling out your phone and quickly finding the app where you’d already queued up a song. you double check that you’re connected to the speaker you’d set in the living room before you’d left for dinner and place your device on top. with one last breath, and a teasing glance over your shoulder to find your boyfriend practically on the edge of his seat, you press play.

you try to ignore the way you can hear mingi suck in a sharp breath as the song starts, getting an idea of where the night is heading, and you try to keep your focus on the choreography you’d planned, with a little help from yunho and san, earlier that week. you let the music flow through you, still facing away from the man you’re putting on a show for, and gather all of the confidence that you can muster as you sway your hips to the beat, emphasizing your ass with a deliberate arch of your back.

you whip around to face mingi and the way the man is looking at you almost causes you to pause before you remember that you’re supposed to be the one seducing him, his eyes practically removing every layer of the outfit you’d worn that night for his birthday dinner. however, as much as you want to just forget the rest of your routine and indulge in your boyfriend in this moment, you don’t want to disappoint with the present you’d promised. instead, you continue with your performance, sensually lowering yourself to your knees as the lyrics of the song prompted you down, down, down. you tried to continue focusing on yourself, using your hands to run along your body until you got to your thighs, giving them a gentle slap before spreading them with a wink. if you weren’t so focused on the moves you had planned to do next you might have noticed the way mingi had seemed to stiffen, very obviously affected by the moves you were pulling off.

as the chorus of the song hits, you move onto your hands and knees, starting to crawl toward your boyfriend and now fully aware of the way he instinctively spreads his legs for you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you inch toward him. you take your time but eventually end up kneeling between his legs, placing your palms onto each of his knees and using his sturdy legs to push yourself up, being sure to arch your back so that your chest is placed perfectly into mingi’s line of sight and making him lean back. his shoulders hit the cushion behind him with an audible thump and you, partly as a reflex but mostly because you know it will continue to rile him up, use your thumb to pull your boyfriend’s bottom lip from between his teeth. the act receives the intended effect immediately, mingi releasing a shuddering whine that sends a shiver through your limbs and makes the tips of your fingers tingle.

you trail your fingertips down the side of his neck and over his collarbone, resisting the urge to grab at his collar and just pull him into a passionate kiss to break the tension. instead, you continue to move your hand to press against his chest and let out a whisper to match the lyrics that have almost become background noise to the energy between you both. you command, let’s make tonight your birthday.

as the next line mentions hands, hands, hands, you use your own to grab his and lift his arms above his head, interlocking your fingers as you climb onto his lap. your thighs press into mingi’s gently as you straddle his lap, keeping your hips raised as to not place your entire weight onto him and to raise your face above his, forcing him to tilt his head back to look up at you. you continue to lean into your boyfriend, forcing his arms back gently and making his back arch slightly. as you move forward, you start to close the distance between your faces, mingi watching you with intense interest through heavily lidded eyes.

just as your bottom lip ghosts against the delicate skin of his chin you drop your hips down, releasing your weight onto his lap, and straighten out your fingers to let your hands slip out of his. you let your hands drag down the undersides of his arms as he starts to sit back up, no longer being pressed backward into the couch, but he keeps his arms up until your palms meet his body once more, pressing into the thick muscle of his pecs as you lean in until your chests barely meet.

for a moment he brings his hands down to wrap around each of your wrists lightly but you quickly push against him and maneuver your hands to switch positions, encasing his wrists in your fingers instead. he’s pliant under you as you move his hands toward your waist and he responds immediately, holding you with a gentleness that radiates the care only mingi can express through touch alone.

you try to mimic that tenderness as you place your hands onto either side of his face, using your thumbs to run over the apples of his cheeks before pressing into the mole under his eye, a gesture you’ve done hundreds of times before as a way to silently express your love for your boyfriend. you can tell he recognizes it right away, letting a sigh release from his chest and a shiver run down his spine as he closes his eyes, giving your waist a soft squeeze in gratitude.

before either of you can get too lost into the moment, you are pulling away from him, moving back into the center of the room to dance along as the chorus begins again.

being the more choreographed part of the routine, you opt to avoid looking at mingi for fear that his pointed gaze will make you freeze up once again. rather, you choose to keep your gaze on the floor or your hands, hoping that the decision comes off as sultry and mysterious instead of shy or intimidated.

the bridge approachs quicker than you anticipate and soon your eyes are flicking up to meet mingi’s as you bring a hand up, curling a finger toward yourself as you ask for his full attention as though his focus has been anywhere but you for the last two minutes and twenty seconds. however, with the outfit you’d worn to dinner tonight, his attention has been on you more than anything else for most of the night.

you can see the hesitation behind his eyes as he debates whether you’re asking him to actually approach you or simply keep paying attention but fortunately you answer that question for him quickly as you approach, one hand presented out in front of you for him to take and you tug gently to pull him to stand. you easily guide him to where you had been standing before and do a few seductive twirls, keeping your hands connected above your head before you let it go and release them to make your way behind him.

for a moment you don’t do anything, letting the tension simmer as the music builds, and mingi’s head turns out of curiosity. he tries to peek at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering what exactly you’re up to, right as the breakdown begins and your arms wrap around his waist, hands splayed on the fronts of his hips and moving down over the tops of his thighs.

he jumps slightly at the surprise contact, his head whipping down to watch your hands on his body.

“relax,” you breath as you notice how tense he is, muscle under your fingers held tight.

you hear him exhale and notice the way his back moves, his shoulders lowering as he tries to just enjoy the moment.

you continue to run your hands down as far as you can reach without bending your knees, your chest flush against his broad back for a moment too long before you pull your hands back up, passing where they had begun and ending up caressing his abdomen. once again, he tenses a bit, although before you can mention his reaction, he’s relaxing, head tilting back slightly and you assume he closes his eyes.

your lips stretch into a smile at his reaction and you run your nails over his abs, opening your arms to drag along the thin fabric of his dress shirt until your reach his sides and he jerks just slightly at the gentle tickle. you chuckle quietly at his response to the touch and you can already hear the beginnings of a whine bubble in the back of his throat but you don’t give him time to release it before you’re retracting your hands and moving around to be in his line of sight once more.

you’re a little surprised mingi has managed to keep his hands to himself this whole time, remaining loose enough for you to manipulate, but you’d guess it’s mostly due to the surprise factor.

the song has started to build to the chorus for the final time and with a single hand to his chest you manage to back him up until he’s seated once more, not even bothering to fight back even though you could see his hands itching to be on you in some way.

he settles quickly, ready to see the finale of your performance, and you watch his tongue trail over his bottom lip as he gives you a thorough look up and down.

you don’t back away from him as you turn once more and decide that he’s been patient enough for the last three minutes, sitting directly onto his lap as the chorus hits and rolling your body against his. your hands search for his own and once you find them you guide them to your body, pressing them into your front as a way to prompt him to place them anywhere he’d like. immediately he holds on, kneading and stroking along your form, being sure to pay extra attention to his favorite spots, and you can’t help but let your head roll back onto his shoulder. his lips find purchase on your neck quickly, gentle kisses quickly becoming open mouthed until he’s nipping at the shell of your ear.

neither of you are focused on the music much anymore as he wraps his arms completely around you, closing the distance between your back and his front. he continues to attack your neck as your hand finds its way into his hair, tugging gently at the black and blonde strands and feeling his hot breath on your skin as a breathy moan slips past his lips. his reaction sends a shiver through you, your nerves immediately lit on fire.

“thank you,” mingi breathes out, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder that’s so sweet it contrasts the heated energy flowing between you both.

you hum in satisfaction when he returns to nibbling at your skin, noticing the final lines of the song booming through the speaker and you somehow manage to push through the intoxicating power of your boyfriend to pry his arms off of you and stand, although he refuses to let you get far as two of his hands catch one of yours.

you don’t fight, instead simply turning to straddle his lap once again, grasp firm on his strong shoulders. his own hands find purchase on the flesh of your ass and you try not to react when he massages your cheeks.

let’s make tonight your birthday

as the final line rings out into the thick air of your apartment, you lean in, finally pressing your lips against his own and letting them move together. the kiss is electric as you finally dance together, passionate and hot.

when you break away only a moment later, mingi follows you until you’re holding his face in your hands and you can finally say what’s been on the edge of your tongue all night.

“happy birthday,” you whisper, and as soon as the words are out, he’s diving back into you, the taste of appreciation on his tongue.

↼ ateez masterlist

note alexa, add birthday sex by jeremih to the queue

let me know what you thought

ateez with a clingy and affectionate drunk partner

⇀ genre fluff

⇀ style reactions/headcanons

⇀ warnings reader is drunk, lots of physical affection (kisses, hugs, lap sitting, cuddling, etc)

note requested by @nnnarchives

seonghwa

no matter how many times you’ll get like this around him, he always seems surprised and will ask if you’re okay

cooing over you and babying you so much it makes everyone around you both sick

makes sure you’re drinking water or eating by bribing you with kisses and just smiles so adoringly when you announce that you finished the whole glass of water and are ready for your reward

eventually he catches you starting to doze off on his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his bicep as he chats softly with the person across from you both

he excuses himself quickly to usher you both home, where he’ll give you all the cuddles you could ever want

hongjoong

his reaction would be very situational

if you’re around other people, he will be so shy and probably ask if you want to leave because its just hard for him to handle you and control his darkening blush at the same time

if you’re alone he is soaking up all of the attention, absolutely ready to do anything you want and continually reminding you how pretty/beautiful/cute/sexy you are

if he’s also drunk then he just melts into the attention, encouraging you by asking for head scratches, laying in your lap, or falling asleep on your shoulder

any which way, he’s a blushing mess by the time you start dozing off, ready to call it a night

yeosang

he’s so blushy and giggly which of course only makes you cling tighter

giving you so many head pats while you hang off his arm but sort of doesn’t know what to do with himself

probably asks if you want to leave the function early because he wants to just pull you into his arms and cuddle you back but doesn’t feel like he can when you’re outside the bubble of your apartment

he’s going to be a little stiff but i promise he loves it, he just doesn’t know if you want him to be affectionate back unless you clearly tell him

yunho

literally so in love with you

he would find your drunk behavior so adorable and actively encourage you to sit in his lap or wrap your arms around his waist

you don’t even have to ask for kisses, he’s already peppering them all over your face

will just hold your face in his hands and stare at you so lovestruck as you pout, wanting more kisses

san

he’s the type to be oblivious to any increase in physical affection without verbal confirmation or acknowledgment from you, it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it he just feels it to be so natural to who he is as a partner

when he does notice your drunken behavior, he’s immediately melting and pulling you into his arms, basically smothering you

this is when you get giggly san to make an appearance

if you’re in public, it immediately feels like you’re in your own bubble, just the two of you, as he matches all your affection with some of his own, the world around you melting away

if you’re at home, it might turn into something very domestic like sharing a dance in the middle of the kitchen or rambling about what the future has in store for you while wrapped in each others arms

mingi

he is literally so happy, his cheeks will hurt from smiling by the end of the night

he’s always worried about making you uncomfortable with initiating physical contact so for you to be the one initiating and doing so often, he is just ecstatic

if you get distracted or wonder away for a moment, he will subtly try to get your attention back and pretend that he’s surprised when you go back to clinging onto him

if you catch on to how much he’s liking the affection his ears will be red immediately as he drops his head into the crook of your neck to hide from your gaze, only giving you better access to pepper kisses against his cheek

wooyoung

he always matches your energy

so sorry to anyone in the general vicinity but you’ve just become the couple that will not separate from each other

will lean into you and tap his cheek as an invitation to give him a kiss

if you aren’t sitting on his lap, he’s sitting on yours

he enjoys enabling your behavior when you get like this but will also lightly tease, because the only thing he loves more than you clingy is you pouting at him, demanding more kisses as repayment

jongho

he’s definitely going to take the opportunity to tease you

he knows what you want but he’s going to pretend he has no clue and make you clearly say that you want to kiss him or even just hold his hand

don’t let his fake obliviousness fool you of course, he’s absolutely enamored by you and your affection, he just has a reputation to uphold, especially around his members

so he’s going to pretend like your kisses and hugs are annoyances, distractions from the conversation he’s trying to have with someone, but really he’s melting on the inside

but don’t worry, he’ll be sure to return your love once you’re out of the public eye

↼ ateez masterlist

note i had fun writing this, thank you for the request!

bringing this back for my favorite boy’s birthday!!

birthday by ten

you give your boyfriend his final birthday gift, a performance you’re sure he’ll never forget

⇀ pairing mingi x reader

⇀ genre suggestive fluff

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 2.2k

⇀ warnings reader dances suggestively, lots of touch/grabbing, kissing

note happy mingi day, i busted this little thing out for his birthday and i hope you enjoy (barely proofread so excuse that)

“i have one last gift,” you said with a tap to mingi’s shoulder as he closed the front door behind himself, toeing his shoes off and starting to bend down to help you with your own before your hand makes its way under his chin and pulls him back up.

he looks surprised when you stop him at first, face crinkled in confusion before he sees the smirk on your lips and his own features change to match yours. “which is,” he trails off and starts to lean in, lips puckered slightly as he expects for you to close the distance and give him a kiss. however, you only take a step back, fingers trailing gently down his arm before you grasp his hand and lead him further into your apartment.

his eyes never leave your form, even as you push him to sit down on the couch and try to move away from him again. he doesn’t let you at first, keeping your hand firmly enclosed in his as long as he can manage before finally allowing you to escape him.

you take a breath to push the nerves down for a moment as you make your way to the center of the room, pulling out your phone and quickly finding the app where you’d already queued up a song. you double check that you’re connected to the speaker you’d set in the living room before you’d left for dinner and place your device on top. with one last breath, and a teasing glance over your shoulder to find your boyfriend practically on the edge of his seat, you press play.

you try to ignore the way you can hear mingi suck in a sharp breath as the song starts, getting an idea of where the night is heading, and you try to keep your focus on the choreography you’d planned, with a little help from yunho and san, earlier that week. you let the music flow through you, still facing away from the man you’re putting on a show for, and gather all of the confidence that you can muster as you sway your hips to the beat, emphasizing your ass with a deliberate arch of your back.

you whip around to face mingi and the way the man is looking at you almost causes you to pause before you remember that you’re supposed to be the one seducing him, his eyes practically removing every layer of the outfit you’d worn that night for his birthday dinner. however, as much as you want to just forget the rest of your routine and indulge in your boyfriend in this moment, you don’t want to disappoint with the present you’d promised. instead, you continue with your performance, sensually lowering yourself to your knees as the lyrics of the song prompted you down, down, down. you tried to continue focusing on yourself, using your hands to run along your body until you got to your thighs, giving them a gentle slap before spreading them with a wink. if you weren’t so focused on the moves you had planned to do next you might have noticed the way mingi had seemed to stiffen, very obviously affected by the moves you were pulling off.

as the chorus of the song hits, you move onto your hands and knees, starting to crawl toward your boyfriend and now fully aware of the way he instinctively spreads his legs for you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you inch toward him. you take your time but eventually end up kneeling between his legs, placing your palms onto each of his knees and using his sturdy legs to push yourself up, being sure to arch your back so that your chest is placed perfectly into mingi’s line of sight and making him lean back. his shoulders hit the cushion behind him with an audible thump and you, partly as a reflex but mostly because you know it will continue to rile him up, use your thumb to pull your boyfriend’s bottom lip from between his teeth. the act receives the intended effect immediately, mingi releasing a shuddering whine that sends a shiver through your limbs and makes the tips of your fingers tingle.

you trail your fingertips down the side of his neck and over his collarbone, resisting the urge to grab at his collar and just pull him into a passionate kiss to break the tension. instead, you continue to move your hand to press against his chest and let out a whisper to match the lyrics that have almost become background noise to the energy between you both. you command, let’s make tonight your birthday.

as the next line mentions hands, hands, hands, you use your own to grab his and lift his arms above his head, interlocking your fingers as you climb onto his lap. your thighs press into mingi’s gently as you straddle his lap, keeping your hips raised as to not place your entire weight onto him and to raise your face above his, forcing him to tilt his head back to look up at you. you continue to lean into your boyfriend, forcing his arms back gently and making his back arch slightly. as you move forward, you start to close the distance between your faces, mingi watching you with intense interest through heavily lidded eyes.

just as your bottom lip ghosts against the delicate skin of his chin you drop your hips down, releasing your weight onto his lap, and straighten out your fingers to let your hands slip out of his. you let your hands drag down the undersides of his arms as he starts to sit back up, no longer being pressed backward into the couch, but he keeps his arms up until your palms meet his body once more, pressing into the thick muscle of his pecs as you lean in until your chests barely meet.

for a moment he brings his hands down to wrap around each of your wrists lightly but you quickly push against him and maneuver your hands to switch positions, encasing his wrists in your fingers instead. he’s pliant under you as you move his hands toward your waist and he responds immediately, holding you with a gentleness that radiates the care only mingi can express through touch alone.

you try to mimic that tenderness as you place your hands onto either side of his face, using your thumbs to run over the apples of his cheeks before pressing into the mole under his eye, a gesture you’ve done hundreds of times before as a way to silently express your love for your boyfriend. you can tell he recognizes it right away, letting a sigh release from his chest and a shiver run down his spine as he closes his eyes, giving your waist a soft squeeze in gratitude.

before either of you can get too lost into the moment, you are pulling away from him, moving back into the center of the room to dance along as the chorus begins again.

being the more choreographed part of the routine, you opt to avoid looking at mingi for fear that his pointed gaze will make you freeze up once again. rather, you choose to keep your gaze on the floor or your hands, hoping that the decision comes off as sultry and mysterious instead of shy or intimidated.

the bridge approachs quicker than you anticipate and soon your eyes are flicking up to meet mingi’s as you bring a hand up, curling a finger toward yourself as you ask for his full attention as though his focus has been anywhere but you for the last two minutes and twenty seconds. however, with the outfit you’d worn to dinner tonight, his attention has been on you more than anything else for most of the night.

you can see the hesitation behind his eyes as he debates whether you’re asking him to actually approach you or simply keep paying attention but fortunately you answer that question for him quickly as you approach, one hand presented out in front of you for him to take and you tug gently to pull him to stand. you easily guide him to where you had been standing before and do a few seductive twirls, keeping your hands connected above your head before you let it go and release them to make your way behind him.

for a moment you don’t do anything, letting the tension simmer as the music builds, and mingi’s head turns out of curiosity. he tries to peek at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering what exactly you’re up to, right as the breakdown begins and your arms wrap around his waist, hands splayed on the fronts of his hips and moving down over the tops of his thighs.

he jumps slightly at the surprise contact, his head whipping down to watch your hands on his body.

“relax,” you breath as you notice how tense he is, muscle under your fingers held tight.

you hear him exhale and notice the way his back moves, his shoulders lowering as he tries to just enjoy the moment.

you continue to run your hands down as far as you can reach without bending your knees, your chest flush against his broad back for a moment too long before you pull your hands back up, passing where they had begun and ending up caressing his abdomen. once again, he tenses a bit, although before you can mention his reaction, he’s relaxing, head tilting back slightly and you assume he closes his eyes.

your lips stretch into a smile at his reaction and you run your nails over his abs, opening your arms to drag along the thin fabric of his dress shirt until your reach his sides and he jerks just slightly at the gentle tickle. you chuckle quietly at his response to the touch and you can already hear the beginnings of a whine bubble in the back of his throat but you don’t give him time to release it before you’re retracting your hands and moving around to be in his line of sight once more.

you’re a little surprised mingi has managed to keep his hands to himself this whole time, remaining loose enough for you to manipulate, but you’d guess it’s mostly due to the surprise factor.

the song has started to build to the chorus for the final time and with a single hand to his chest you manage to back him up until he’s seated once more, not even bothering to fight back even though you could see his hands itching to be on you in some way.

he settles quickly, ready to see the finale of your performance, and you watch his tongue trail over his bottom lip as he gives you a thorough look up and down.

you don’t back away from him as you turn once more and decide that he’s been patient enough for the last three minutes, sitting directly onto his lap as the chorus hits and rolling your body against his. your hands search for his own and once you find them you guide them to your body, pressing them into your front as a way to prompt him to place them anywhere he’d like. immediately he holds on, kneading and stroking along your form, being sure to pay extra attention to his favorite spots, and you can’t help but let your head roll back onto his shoulder. his lips find purchase on your neck quickly, gentle kisses quickly becoming open mouthed until he’s nipping at the shell of your ear.

neither of you are focused on the music much anymore as he wraps his arms completely around you, closing the distance between your back and his front. he continues to attack your neck as your hand finds its way into his hair, tugging gently at the black and blonde strands and feeling his hot breath on your skin as a breathy moan slips past his lips. his reaction sends a shiver through you, your nerves immediately lit on fire.

“thank you,” mingi breathes out, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder that’s so sweet it contrasts the heated energy flowing between you both.

you hum in satisfaction when he returns to nibbling at your skin, noticing the final lines of the song booming through the speaker and you somehow manage to push through the intoxicating power of your boyfriend to pry his arms off of you and stand, although he refuses to let you get far as two of his hands catch one of yours.

you don’t fight, instead simply turning to straddle his lap once again, grasp firm on his strong shoulders. his own hands find purchase on the flesh of your ass and you try not to react when he massages your cheeks.

let’s make tonight your birthday

as the final line rings out into the thick air of your apartment, you lean in, finally pressing your lips against his own and letting them move together. the kiss is electric as you finally dance together, passionate and hot.

when you break away only a moment later, mingi follows you until you’re holding his face in your hands and you can finally say what’s been on the edge of your tongue all night.

“happy birthday,” you whisper, and as soon as the words are out, he’s diving back into you, the taste of appreciation on his tongue.

↼ ateez masterlist

note alexa, add birthday sex by jeremih to the queue

let me know what you thought

DREAM: SONG MINGI X FEM!READER

Pairing: Incubus demon!Mingi ( kinda ) x Fem! Human! Reader.

Genre: fantasy?? demon mingi, smut. minors dni

Synopsis: you like to walk on the side of danger, even if it's in the form of a hot barman dressed in leather pants.

wc; 2,119

Warnings: Okay, so I'm not sure what to label this as. but, HEAVY WARNINGS; We have an allusion to incubus demon Mingi, This is fully consented between the reader and Mingi and I feel like I've stated that quite obviously multiple times throughout, it kind of reads like Mingi is the demon predator and the reader is the human prey, rough sex, unprotected sex, allusion to them being strangers, Sex in a closed bar, sex on a pool table, degradation, praise, a few (?) spanks, BRIEF mirror sex, coming inside, Mingi pushes his come back in, mentions of alcohol, reader drinks a cocktail but it goes unmentioned that it is non-alcoholic, they play a chase game? reader runs and Mingi has to catch her but she asks for the game to happen?, With brief hair pulling, and biting ( once ), Mingi restrains her wrists with his hand for a lil bit. Mingi is BIG, Mingi doesn't prep the reader. if i've missed any please let me know

note: Hi, my lovelies. Ace here. This was originally an anon ask but the anon requested Wolf Mingi and a bunny reader. Unfortunately, I don't write ABO or Hybrid NSFW works so i altered it, I hope you don't mind! PLEASE take note of the warnings. If you do not like to read this sort of thing, scroll by. I don't want to spoil the ending but as i like all my works to fit into the same universe, i had to make it all into a dream the reader had. But thats not to say it can't be a reoccurring dream!

feedback is appreciated! minors dni

Mingi knew you were there. He could catch your scent anywhere, the richest cherries he had ever smelt. You’d been frequenting his bar for a few weeks now, much to his surprise. The demon wondered if you realized the danger you seemed to willingly put yourself in by being here.

You were always alone, Mingi noted. And Mingi was always watching you. You weren’t stupid, you knew what he was… who he was. You knew it was bad news for a measly human to set foot in a bar full of hungry demons considering what you were to them, prey. Though, you felt comforted by the adrenaline, soothed by the power around you.

It was why you kept coming back, again and again. That and the handsome barman who watched you like a hawk. All dark eyes and broad shoulders. He owned the room with his presence alone. The incubus never approached you though, no matter how much you wanted him to. You’d always been the type to walk on the side of danger and the man in the tight leather pants, waistcoat, and cowboy hat screamed it.

You’d often found your curious eyes drawn to the slither of exposed skin on his navel. The first three times you visited, you thought you were crazy to lust after an incubus whose name you didn’t know. It was an exciting feeling.

Throughout the bustling Saturday night, Mingi tried to look for you as much as possible. You were sat on Yunho’s side of the bar, much to his dismay, and it was only in the last half hour to closing that Mingi sent the man home. Many stragglers and patrons already stumbling their way out and into cabs.

Until there was only one left. The pretty human sitting at the end of the bar, watching him with her chin resting on her hand, you. Mingi threw the cleaning cloth into the rag bucket, approaching you slowly.

“You know… It’s dangerous for your kind to be here.” He braced his hands on the wood of the bartop, his words slow and gravelly.

“And yet, I feel the safest I’ve ever been.” You grinned at him, tongue darting out to lick the remains of the fruity cocktail from your lips.

“Your instincts should be telling you to run away from here, Baby.” The warning in his voice didn’t scare you, despite the shiver that danced along your spine and the way his gaze locked onto the movement of your tongue had your body heating right back up.

You leaned forward over the bar, only a few centimeters between you now. “Are you going to chase me if I do?”

Mingi could practically taste your excitement. He tutted mockingly, rounding the bar and moving away from you in favor of closing the window shutters and locking the door. You’d followed his movements, breath hitching in anticipation when the sound of the lock clicking into place filled the tension between you both.

"I'm going to count down from three, Sweetheart." He began, pausing to give you time to protest. "And then you're going to run."

You climbed down from the barstool, heat swirling in your core. "Yes," You breathed. "and then?"

Mingi's head tilted, an almost sinister smile pulling at the edges of his lips. "And then, when I catch you, you'll beg."

A whimper catches in your throat, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Silence fell between the two of you once more, Mingi raising an eyebrow as if offering you an out.

You didn't want an out.

At your eye contact and firm nod of consent, Mingi held up three fingers.

The count began, "Three." He stood still, a heavy stare watching your eyes dart around the tables and unorganized chairs as you calculated your route.

"Two" His smirk widened as his eyes locked to the thundering pulse point in your neck, your chest rising and falling quickly as you took your first few steps around the obstacles.

You neared him, eyes wide in the thrilling fear. You crept near him, anticipating the final number of the countdown. You'd anticipated this moment for weeks, lustful gazes exchanged every spare moment, and now… Now, it was finally here. A thrill-seeking buzz settled in your veins, your eyes never leaving him.

and finally, "Last chance, Sweetheart." He taunted, "One."

Everything paused, not a movement nor sound made as your brain registered what it meant.

"Run." Mingi launched for you as you weaved around the tables, pulling chairs into your path to slow him down.

The obstacles were no match for the big bad wolf. Mingi shoved every single one off to the side, the sounds of the wood scraping along the floor and colliding with other chairs filling your ears. Mingi lets you stay ahead for a few moments, just enough to lull the false sense of victory into your mind.

Two strong hands landed firmly on your waist, pressing your front onto the green felt of the pool table. Mingi reveled in your shriek of surprise. You knew you were caught but that didn't stop you from writhing your body in a feat to make it harder for him.

The leather of his pants rubbed against the backs of your thighs, the skin exposed beyond the hem of your velvet dress. Mingi's big hands gathered your wrists at the small of your back, pinning them there with his left hand.

"Gotcha." He growled out lowly, his warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Mingi had your front pressed so far onto the pool table that your legs dangle over the edge, tips of your shoes just barely grazing the ground. Mingi's rough, right hand ran the length of your thigh, pushing your dress up and over the curve of your behind as it went.

"I've given you so many chances to back out." Long fingers toyed with the gusset of your panties.

"I don't want to." You turned your head, cheek smushed to the green felt. You could catch the whiff of liquor from many spilled drinks over the years. "Please."

At your words, the fingers of Mingi's left hand tightened around your wrists. His index and middle finger slipped the crotch of your panties to the side, a deep sigh of satisfaction reaching your ears when they ran through your slit.

"You enjoy this." It wasn't a question, Mingi knew, and he didn't leave room for arguments as he tapped those two fingers over your pussy, watching as your arousal spread over your skin and coated his fingers. "You're soaked." He let his middle finger circle where you needed him the most.

“Please,” You whimpered, “I’m not gonna break.” You begged, feebly attempting to push your hips back but with your lack of footing on the ground, you had no chance.

Mingi couldn’t help but laugh, his fingers smearing your arousal onto the back of your thigh. You thought he was going to prolong his teasing. You thought he was going to make you beg more. Your cry of surprise echoed around the empty bar when your panties were harshly yanked down your legs, dangling at your ankles. You could hear him fumble with his belt and zipper with one hand and whilst you ached to turn around and see him, Mingi kept you firmly on the pool table.

The sudden intrusion into your heat had you arching with a cry. Finally. Your eyes closed as you focused on relaxing your body to accommodate him, breathing slowly through your nose. Mingi was thick and girthy. You could feel every vein and throb as he wasted no time pushing into you. He allowed you a moment once he was seated into the base, finally letting go of your wrists. Instead, Mingi pulled your body up to be propped by your forearms, molding you into his desired position.

“Good girl, you can take it, can’t you baby?” His voice was like honey, dripped into your eardrums as he praised you.

His words of encouragement made your pussy flutter around him, though Mingi didn’t give you a chance to answer him before his hips drew back and surged forward again. His hips hitting against your ass had your waist uncomfortably digging into the edge of the table but you couldn’t find it in you to ask him to stop. Not when he set up such a deliciously brutal pace from the get-go, pounding roughly into you to draw almost pornographic moans from your throat.

Mingi was hitting all the right spots, hand pushing at your shoulders to deepen the arch of your back and hips. In the end, it tangled into your hair to pull your eyeline over to the decorative mirror in your view. Usually, the mirror would serve as a cautionary for people to see around the corner, preventing many spilled drinks and bar fights.

“See how pathetic you look?” He snarled, teeth grazing your earlobe. Mingi made eye contact through your reflection. “Fucking a stranger, letting him use you over. And. Over.” His words were punctuated by rough smacks of his thighs meeting your skin, the force moving your body forward each time.

The you in your reflection looked thoroughly fucked. She had smeared mascara, and teary eyes hooded with want. She looked wild, you looked wild. Your attention was stolen away from yourself and onto Mingi. His plush lips were parted, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he released sinful moans of his own. The knot in your core continued to tighten, dragging you closer to your impending orgasm.

The hold on your hair disappeared, your forehead pressing against the hard table again. “So pathetic.” Your cry of agreeance earned you a sharp swat to your left ass cheek, the bite of pain drawing a drawn-out moan from within you. “I’m gonna come!”

Your announcement had Mingi’s torso smothering your back as he hammered harder into you. His thrusts measured and speedy as your walls welcomed him over and over. Your nails scratched at the pool table’s surface to find purchase, the need to brace yourself for your oncoming climax almost overwhelming. Your fingertips hit against the white ball, the sphere knocking another and rolling toward a pocket. The pool table was creaking and groaning as it shook, the vibrations of the movement pocketing the lone ball.

“Then fucking do it,” Mingi’s hips ground on every hit home, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix without fail. The man wedged his between you and the hard surface, fingers finding your clit with ease to set a matching pace.

You were close. You could feel the edge of your orgasm within reach and he kept you there for a few moments. It was only when his teeth bit into your shoulder from behind did it hit you like a freight train, a lengthy scream bouncing off the walls as you writhed in pleasure beneath him. It was like a fire spread through your nerve endings, every muscle in your body tensing with the onslaught of pleasure. Mingi moaned hoarsely, muffled by your shoulder as he followed suit.

The weight of him was gone suddenly. Mingi draws back slowly from you to watch the evidence of him leak from your hole. The next thing you know, those same two fingers from earlier had gathered the escaping substance only to plunge it back inside you.

“We don’t want that escaping, do we baby?” His voice was a mock of praise and comfort as he kept his fingers in place to reach down for the flimsy material of your panties.

They’d stayed hooked at your ankles from where your legs dangled, Mingi now pulling them back up and in place. Only once they were up your thighs did he pull his fingers from you, eliciting a sensitive whimper from yourself who was still sprawled over the green felt. You felt Mingi pat the palm of his hand over your clothed core, his leaking come soaking into the material.

“There we go.” He murmured, tugging your dress back in place. “____,” He sounded muffled to your ears, far away almost as your exhausted body lay spent and satisfied, your eyes closed in bliss.

“Mmh.” You didn’t move.

“____!” He sounded much louder now, right next to your ear.

You jolted, eyes springing open. You groggily blinked them, darting your gaze around the room. Your bedroom. In front of you, your smiley boyfriend crouched at your bedside with his hand gently caressing your shoulder.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Mingi frowned, eyes carefully watching your face.

With the dull ache between your legs and a racing heart, you just nodded.

“Yeah, A dream.”

acescavern© - Please do not copy, repost, or translate my works. Reblogging is allowed.

.mp3

A/N: here it issssss. brought forth by this! hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~

SMUT MDNI 18+

Song Mingi x Reader ft. Hongjoong

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), recorded sex, humiliation kinda, exhibitionism kinda, creampie sorta

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

It was normal for Mingi to call you into Hongjoong's studio, the sound proofed room, a forbidden sanctuary you visited often with your boyfriend. It was well known through the building that Hongjoong’s studio was a sacred place and you were to never go in unless you were invited. Or you were Mingi.

Which is how you often found yourself in the same position you were currently in, bent over the captains desk as Mingi thrust into you. Now, don’t get him wrong, Mingi did know there could be serious trouble if he forgot to either lock the door behind you or just blatantly ignored his leader's schedule. The risk made it that much more interesting for him. Your sex life was eventful but sometimes, you just needed that extra risk to spice things up when it was too vanilla for the two of you. So, here you were. Your boyfriend's cock hitting you just right as you whimpered into the microphone on the large, endearingly cluttered desk. Mingi had pushed you down right beside it, your nerves increasing with your arousal at the possibility of accidentally hitting record. It spiked your pleasure so much you failed to notice the small blinking red light on a monitor off to your side, your eyes closing in pleasure as Mingi grunted behind you, your hands caged by his on the small of your back. 

“Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock on Hongjoong’s desk. He could walk in, y’know?”, his hips snap into yours harshly as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I didn’t lock the door.”

Your eyes snapped open and shot to the lock on the large, icy glass door, the lock sitting mockingly unlocked as you whined. Your pussy clenched around Mingi’s length, his grunt hitting you in all the right places as you twitched in his hold, his hips bruising your ass. Your eyes closed quickly, his hand wrapping around your front to pinch and tug lightly at your nipples, whines passing through your parted lips as he thrust into you with more precision. The wet sounds of your pussy echoed around the room, somewhere in the back of your mind thanking any god that the room was soundproofed to the outside. The shadows of people passing the door reached you from behind your closed eyelids, teeth biting at your lip when Mingi took the chance to slip his hand further down your body to rub quick circles on your clit. Your moans came faster and louder, spurring Mingi on to snap his hips just right, brushing the head of his cock against your sweet spot as he moaned into the room, head tossed back. 

Glancing up to the array of monitors shaking in front of you, you caught Mingi’s reflection. The sweat you could shining on his temple as his hair stuck to his forehead, his toned stomach flexing with every sinful movement against you and his hips mocking you as they moved to create the pleasure you felt… it pushed you over the edge, your eyes slamming shut as you came around his cock. His grunts got deeper as he thrust into you a few more times, the spasms of your walls sending him plummeting over the edge of his own orgasm, his cum painting your insides white with warmth as you panted for breath. A small click distracted you quickly, worrying Hongjoong had opened his studio door and you had been caught fucking in his precious studio. Looking quickly that way proved your thoughts wrong, the door still firmly shut albeit unlocked. 

“Mingi?”

“Yeah baby?”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”, his eyebrow raised at you through the reflection of the monitor.

“The click?”, you met his gaze with confusion in your own.

“Oh. Look this way, baby.”, his hand gently gripped your chin, turning your head to face the monitor on your right, a clear audio file staring at you as you stared at it. 

Mingi’s chuckle echoed through the shock-induced haze in your mind, his hand dropping from your chin as he pulled out of you slowly. A hiss leaving your lips before you were turning on shaky legs to smack his solid chest. 

“Why would you do that?!”, you whined, “Hongjoong could find that!”

A smirk crossed Mingi’s pretty lips as you groaned, his hand brushing along your bare back gently. Another click reaching your ears as you watch the file save from the corner of your eye, no file name in place, a simple .mp3 staring you down before it vanished from the screen, the usually empty audio bars leaving you breathless. There was no way you would be able to find that file with Mingi in the room for one, and two, the infinite files Hongjoong had of beats and unreleased tracks just waiting for their day to shine. You scoffed, focusing back on Mingi as he re-dressed casually, his body being covered from your wandering gaze until he focused back on you. His hands reached out to rub your arms gently as he placed a kiss on your forehead, helping you re-dress as well after he cleaned his cum from your thighs. 

“You did so good for me, love. So pretty for me on his desk.”

“Mingi~”, you whined, slapping his shoulder gently as he pulled you from your leaning position on the desk. 

“Come on, love, we should let it air out now. Smells like sex in here.”, Mingi chuckles, pulling you from the room after checking both ways were clear.

—

It was calm for weeks, the recording not even a thought in your mind until Mingi blew up your phone with missed calls and messages asking you to come into the studio urgently. Your heart raced as you sped through the KQ building, your palms sweating as you looked around for Mingi, nodding at staff who passed you. Mingi found you quickly, grabbing your arm and tugging you along to an empty meeting room. 

“He knows.”

“HE KNOWS?!”

“Shhhh, shh. He knows. He wants to talk to us.”

“What the fuck do you mean talk to us?! He’s gonna kill us!”

Mingi rolled his eyes at your over-exaggeration, his hands running over your arms in a soothing motion. You huffed at him, pulling away from his hold to pace anxiously. 

“He wants to see us… like… 10 minutes ago.”

You froze in place, turning slowly to glare at your sheepish boyfriend, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. Glancing at Mingi in exasperation once more, you grabbed his hand to drag him out of the room. He stumbled a little at your tug, straightening his step soon after to follow you as casually as he could to the closed door of Hongjoong’s studio. You took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door, muted shuffling reaching your ears due to your hyper-focus on the other side. The door swung open, Hongjoong meeting your nervous eyes with a hard glare that he swapped to Mingi soon after. 

“In.”

You shuffled into the room with Mingi, a death grip on his hand despite his attempts to pull free so he could cross his arms or shove his hands in his pocket. You bowed politely to the leader, his eyes softening slightly as he took full notice of your nerves. Mingi shuffled past his leader with a small nod, his own nerves clear to the other man as he observed him. 

“Have a seat.”, Hongjoong closed his door, the click of the lock spiking your nerves as he took a seat in his chair, centimeters from where you were railed mere weeks ago. 

You and Mingi took a seat on the couch in the room, memories of being railed there flashing through your head as you practically shook against your boyfriend. The atmosphere of the room was tense, Mingi’s leg bouncing against yours as Hongjoong just looked between the two of you. 

“So…”, he took a dramatic pause, clicking around on his monitors for a moment before your moans and a wet slapping sound filled the room through his speakers. He let it play for a minute, clearing his throat to continue, “You fucked in my studio. Without my permission to be in here, Mingi. Your exemption is not grounds to fuck your girlfriend and record her sounds.”

“You can’t say you didn’t enjoy finding that.”, Mingi scoffed, his hand resting on your thigh as he relaxed.

“That’s not my point-”, a flush ran across Hongjoong’s cheeks before he turned away, dragging the audio file to another monitor where more audio lay in the editor. 

“Then what is?”, you spoke up shakily, your hand grasping at Mingi’s as he trailed it a little too far up your thigh. 

“You recorded it. That’s my point. As punishment, it’s been mixed into a track.”, he hits play on the editor, a beat flowing through the speakers, the punctuated slaps of Mingi’s hips hidden tastefully behind a heavy bass with your moans.

Mingi bopped his head with the beat, the problem slipping his mind until you nudged him pointedly. He stopped abruptly as Hongjoong paused but he sided with his leader in the end, urging you to accept how good the track actually sounded. 

“I can’t just accept this! It’s… private-”

“You recorded it.”

“That was not my idea! I didn’t technically agree!” 

“There was consent though, was there not?”, Hongjoong looked concerned for a moment before you and Mingi both nodded to confirm.

“That’s not my point!”, you huffed, crossing your arms.

“It was consensual, recorded and now it’s a track. You can deny permission to use it, but Mingi says you enjoy the humiliation.” 

“Mingi!”

You stare him down as he laughs silently, only looking sorry when you smack his arm a little too harshly. Hongjoong laughs silently as well before your glare hits him and he clears his throat, clicking through a few things. It takes a few seconds for the same beat to run through the speakers, but this time, Jongho’s ad libs float through the speaker as well. You gasp, the vocals of the maknae sending chills down your spine as they usually do. The beat track blending smoothly with the vocals and creating a demo track for the ages, your moans not perceivable to the unknowing ear. You heaved a sigh and let go of your worries, head bopping along to the beat in time with Mingi’s, a smile crossing the captain's lips. Maybe having your recorded moans in an ATEEZ track wasn’t the worst thing in the world, and looking over at your boyfriend's smile, you knew it definitely would not be all that bad if it happened again. 

facetime

switch!reader x switch!mingi

smut | mdni

1.1k

mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick

nsfw tags under the cut

phone sex, established relationship, slightly perv!mingi, sub leaning mingi i guess?, mingi is obsessed with your boobs (as he should be), slight body worship (if u squint), masturbation (m), very very mild degradation (mingi is called a perv), orgasm (m)

a/n: i wrote this on a whim after i saw a video of mingi in a fancall event and he was flirting without shame with op and i was going insane for him again so yeah.... here we go ♡

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You were surprised when you received a facetime call from Mingi, normally he doesn’t call you when he’s at work. You were just lounging on the couch of your shared apartment. Catching up on the newest netflix show before you get inevitably spoiled on tiktok. Comfortably laying on a legion of fluffy pillows and wearing your boyfriend’s favorite oversized graphic t-shirt.

You sat back straight and pushed some of the cushions aside. Before swiping the green icon and answering his call.

“Hi babe!” you greeted him, happy to see his face emerge from the dark screen. “What’s up?”

“Hey baby, can you show me your tits, like real quick?”

…

“What?” is the first thing that comes to your mind. Your tone is a lot closer to confusion than indignation despite the rather straightforward nature of the request. 

Upon closer examination, your boyfriend appears to be a little pink at the cheeks and also kind of agitated. But that’s not completely abnormal, he was rehearsing and probably dancing his heart out so appearing a little sweaty and disheveled wasn’t an alarming sight. Until you noticed the camera seemed to be rather unstable too…

“Baby…” his deep voice sounded a little needier than usual. “I-I j-just” he stammered. “Well I’m practicing like crazy and I thought I’d quickly go to the bathroom and you know jerk off real quick” You cock an eyebrow, which seems to push him to justify himself. “You know? To get the edge off?” You crossed your arm over your chest, still holding the small screen in front of you. 

“Baby please I just need you so bad. I’ve been trying to cum for so long but I just can’t. And I just can’t stop now. I’ve gone too far. I need to cum.” He panted, you could tell this whole time he hadn’t stopped stroking his cock just from the way the phone in his other hand kept shaking. “Please baby help me get off” he begged, his eyebrows meeting on his forehead, sad droopy puppy eyes pleading in such a way you couldn't refuse.

“Fine” you cave in as you lift up the loose t-shirt over your breasts, holding the soft fabric at your neck. 

“Yes thank you!!” he exclaimed, deep voice laced with gratitude.

You then lowered the phone to aim the camera at your chest. You heard your boyfriend suck in a deep breath as soon as you did so.

“Ffffuck yeah” he breathed out. “That’s what I needed. Perfect fucking tits” he said, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Instantly he felt closer to his release. He gripped his aching length tighter as he practically burned into his eyes the image the screen was reflecting. Drinking in the two beautiful lumps of flesh staring back at him through the device. At this point his hand was gliding so smoothly along his cock, made so perfectly slick with his precum.

He was so close now.

You could tell that much. It was easy to guess as his short bleached hair struck to his forehead and how his jaw went lax except when he caught his lower lip between his teeth just to spit it out all swollen and red. But that probably was nothing next to his cock.

What wouldn't you have given to see the state of his dick. You could only imagine it as you guessed he was gradually picking up the pace, the camera becoming even shakier. 

“You’re close?” you asked, feeling your own arousal pool in your panties, lightly squirming on the sofa.

“Yesss. So fucking close baby” he breathed, voice coming out a little squeaky as he was trying so hard not to make to much noise, one large bead of sweat hanging under his chin. “Fuck, baby. Can I see your face too? Can I have your tits and face ?” the question sounded more like a desperate plea.

You held the phone a little further so both your chest and face would fit in the frame. And Mingi instantly squinted his eyes, trying his best not to close them from how good he felt. He wanted to keep looking at you.

“Fuck baby. You’re so pretty. So fucking perfect for me” He sighed, now focussing the rapid strokes on his cock head. He moaned again, his voice going up on octave, right before pinching his lip between his teeth again to shut himself up, so hard that he could have drawn blood but he didn’t care at this stage. He couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the agonizing pleasure of his fist tightly holding his fat, pulsing and weeping cock.

“Yeah you like that?” you asked, your own voice soaked in lust. “You’re such a perv! Jerking off in the stalls at work like a creep.” you smirked when you picked up on the micro expression of shame flashing on his face.

“Fuckkkk” he growled. “I’m so fucking close baby. So fucking close for you!” he said, applying just the right amount of pressure to his tip with his thumb.

“Yeah?” You swiped your tongue on your bottom lip. “Then cum. Cum for me now. Cum all over my tits and face baby” your ordered pressing your tits together with your available hand. 

“Fuck yeah. Cumming. C-cumming for you now” he warned in a strangled whisper as he finally reached his peak, his huge cock uncontrollably twitching in his clenched fist, delivering large ropes of cum on his hand and against the door of the stall, some large squirts even crashing on the tiled floor. 

You didn’t dare to blink, scared to miss even one split second of your boyfriend’s beautiful features contorted into divine agony. He was so perfect, you thought as you gazed at him with heart eyes through the screen and felt your soaked panties uncomfortably cling to your drenched folds. 

He gradually slowed down before coming to a stop. He chuckled lightly as he wiped his sweat forehead in his elbow, now looking at you with this ravishing smile that you came to adore.

“Thank you baby” he said, as innocent as could be. Almost making you doubt the sinful expressions of bliss you witnessed only moments ago.

“You’re welcome, baby. I expect you return the favor once you get home” you said grinning, a mischievous glint hinting away in your orbs.

Mingi poked the tip of his tongue on the corner of his lips being pulled into a smirk. 

“Of course my love”

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IF YOU ENJOYED DONT FORGET TO REBLOG 🖤

a/n: i hoped you enjoyed <3 i know i did (a little too much maybe lol). come tell me if you did <3

Ditto | mingi x reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k

You've liked Mingi for a while now, but every time you try to hang out one on one, it turns into a group thing. Will you be able to act normal now that you've finally gotten him alone?

Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of making out, mingi likes to bite, fingering, oral f. rec., condomless sex, mention of birth control shot and sti testing, big dick mingi

Reader Notes: has breasts and vagina, hands are smaller than mingi’s

You sit next to Mingi on your couch, anime playing on the TV and a respectable amount of space between you, and do your best to pretend that this is normal, that everything is normal.

It’s not that you don’t like him or know him well enough to be alone with him, it’s that you both like and know him far too well. But unfortunately, all of the time you’ve ever spent with him has been in a group setting with at least one of his best friends present. You’ve been wanting to hang out one on one for months, basically since you and Mingi met, but you just couldn’t seem to make it happen.

You’d tried a few times too. The first attempt, you were grabbing drinks for the table together and you somehow worked brunch into the conversation, trying to invite him as subtly as you could. He caught on just as Jongho and Hongjoong approached the bar to help carry everything and immediately invited them along. You didn’t even have time to feel the consternation before he was beaming at you with excitement and melting your heart.

The second attempt had gone a bit better, with just Yunho tagging along to what you thought was a pasta date for two. Your small success came at the price of the sympathetic knowing look Yunho sent you when you deflated at the sight of him.

The third was the most disastrous and, dare you say, heartbreaking. You texted him to remind him that the new drama he’d been looking forward to finally dropped on Netflix and he, to your awe, responded asking if you wanted to go over to his place and binge it together. You weren’t sure if it was a date but you looked forward to it all week nonetheless, rushing home from work to carefully select an outfit that was cute, comfortable, and easy to remove before making his favorite snack and speeding over to his apartment with the glass container steaming in your passenger seat. He’d seemed so excited to see you, grabbing your hand to pull you into his kitchen and presenting your own favorite food, plus a couple of beers, plates, and utensils. You were well into episode two when a knock sounded on his front door. Mingi shrugged in response to the question on your face, seemingly just as clueless as you, and had barely unlocked the door before San and Wooyoung tumbled inside. Apparently, he’d mentioned your plans to them in passing and they’d taken it as an invitation.

This time was a fluke, a wild stroke of luck, a blessing from the horny and in love gods themselves. It was the reverse of what usually happened - a group hangout that became just you and Mingi after the rest of your friends had come down with something. You have a sneaking suspicion that ‘something’ is actually Yunho trying to do you a favor, and resolve to reward him with his favorite ice cream asap.

You glance over at Mingi surreptitiously, expecting his focus to be on the movie and hoping you’ll be able to fully take in his new hair, only to find his gaze centered on you. Your eyes widen and your shoulders bunch up, unused to having his unwavering attention and alarmed by the fact that you have no clue how to deal with it. You look away for as long as you can stand before letting your gaze dart back to him. He’s still staring at you, his face contemplative and more open than you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what else to do but stare back, nervously letting your eyes meet his and trying to relax your face enough that the worry lines go away. His face splits in a grin as soon as you make eye contact, his uneven front teeth and gummy smile sending your heart aflutter and making you beam in return.

“I’m really happy we got to do this. Honestly…,” Mingi trails off with a sigh, bringing one long leg up to rest on the couch as he shifts to face you instead of the TV. His arm rises to rest on the cushions behind your neck and you fight the shiver that snakes down your spine at the decrease of space between your bodies. He smells so good, too, and the heat radiating from him makes you want to crawl into his pocket and never leave.  “I’ve wanted to hang out with just you for, like, months.”

His teeth sink into that plump bottom lip, almost distracting you too much to notice the tinge of nervousness behind his casual admission, and truthfully, you’re confused as hell. “Really?” You ask incredulously, rushing to continue when you see his face fall in hurt, “No, no, no, I’m glad you feel that way! I’m so glad, trust me. It’s just that I’ve been lowkey trying to make plans one on one since we met, and it’s never worked out. I was starting to think I should give up,” you finish with a self-deprecating shrug.

Mingi’s mouth drops open and his eyebrows raise, his disbelief clear though you can’t tell what other emotions are hiding beneath it. “Are you being fucking for real?” He almost sounds aggressive and if you hadn’t reacted the exact same way to him before, you’d probably get your feelings hurt too. As it is, you know he’s likely shocked and, if you dare to hope, happy. One side of your mouth lifts in a smile and you roll your eyes teasingly, “Yeah, Mingi, I’m being fucking for real. I wouldn’t lie about something so embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” He sputters a bewildered laugh, “That’s, like, the best thing anyone’s ever said to me. I have the fattest crush on you.”

“You have…,” you try to gather your thoughts but there aren’t any to gather, just his words ringing in your head like a timer you can’t turn off.

I have the fattest crush on you. I have the fattest crush on you. Ihavethefattestcrushonyou. IhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrushonyouIhavethefattestcrush-

“Yeah, babe, I have a crush on you. I have for a while. San and Wooyoung still fuck with me over how I blew up at them for crashing our Netflix date.”

“So it was a date!” You exclaim victoriously, bouncing in place on the couch and missing the fond, affectionate sparkle in Mingi’s eye. “Yeah, it was a date. And I had plans for that night, too,” Mingi sighs wistfully. “Plans? Like what?” You ask, breathless with all of the ideas racing through your head.

“Like… telling you how I feel. Maybe yawning and putting my arm around you. Maybe a kiss goodnight,” he says slowly, as if he’s nervous about your reaction.

“Mingi, honestly, you could have kissed me hello and I’d have been over the moon,” you respond, promising him with your eyes and a pinky hooked around his.

“So, if I were to kiss you now…,” he begins, inching forward.

“I would kiss you back,” you assure him, heart on your sleeve and in your throat.

Mingi hums, leaning in closer and closer until his plush lips can touch yours, even the barest hint of contact making your heart pound. He doesn’t approach with much pressure, letting you lead and show him what you like, and you hum back, pressing your mouth harder against his. Your tongue peeks out to brush over his perfect bottom lip and his moan surprises you, makes you bite down on his plump flesh and start to suck. He just keeps moaning, his sounds vibrating through your lips and into your bones, the pitch low enough to vibrate. Already, you want him so bad. Want him around and inside and on top of you and under you and every which way you can get him.

You feel like maybe he wants you too, if the way he pulls you closer with one hand on your cheek and the other on your back says anything. The kiss deepens before you can take a breath, his lips pursing around your tongue so he can suck on it, bringing to mind ideas of other things his talented mouth could do. You don’t expect to experience them tonight, knowing that Mingi doesn’t date much and not wanting to push him beyond his comfort level, but damn is it nice to imagine. You’ve imagined lots of things with him, and this is already fulfilling a good number of them.

It’s not enough for Mingi, you find, as he tilts you backwards on the sofa until he can climb on top of you, the hand on your back shifting to your stomach. It hovers there, unsure, until you grab and pull it under your shirt, pressing his palm flat on your belly with a sigh. You make out for a while, just content to feel him (and his tongue) until he starts to seem a little restless.

“You can touch me, Mingi,” you sigh, arching into his hands and dragging the one on your stomach up to cover your breast. You’re only wearing a bralette and you know he can feel the shape of you, feel your nipple pebbling under his palm, but you like it, like the heavy breath he exhales against your lips, the seemingly involuntary twitch of his hand on you. They’re almost intoxicating, his reactions, every sigh and groan going straight to your center. He feels so big on top of you, like if his arms relaxed he could crush you, compress you straight into the couch, and you wonder when exactly Mingi got so fucking thick. He was already tall when you met him but he definitely wasn’t like this, though, obviously, you’re not complaining.

“Can I take this off?” He asks tentatively, rubbing the hem of your shirt between his thumb and forefinger. Nodding, you sit up enough for him to tug it off, giggling when he throws it across the room with a flourish.

“You know you’re picking that up, right?”

“But of course, milady,” he says before cringing immediately and dropping his head into your chest with a groan, mumbling, “Milady? What the fuck is wrong with you, Mingi? You’re finally kissing her and you call her Milady, jesus fucking christ.”

His cheesiness only endears you to him more, as does his shame, so you pick his head up between your hands and plant one on him, kissing him until he seems to forget what he’d said. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth and cupping your cheek in one of his big hands. You love how he gets so lost in kissing you, like it’s the main event and not the opener, and you just know that given the chance, you could get lost in him too.

That’s okay, though, because you trust Mingi. You’d trust him with your body, and your mind, and your heart. Well, you’ve already trusted him with your heart because you’re lowkey in love with him, but that’s beside the point. The point is that you trust Mingi enough to let yourself get lost in him, so you do. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until the sun has gone down and you can barely remember your own name.

At some point, you pull away for water and a bathroom break, but soon enough, you return to the couch to kiss him some more. You undo your bralette on your way back, leaving it on so he’s still the one to take it off. His eyes grow wide and he visibly swallows when he catches sight of you, and by the time you make it to the middle of the room, he’s there too, waiting for you. His hands rise to your shoulders, curving up your neck and coming to rest on your cheeks so he can pull you into a gentle kiss. You sigh into his mouth when his hands smooth back down your throat and catch on the straps, his fingers giving a soft tug, pulling the fabric down slowly.

He doesn’t look yet, just keeps kissing you and making the hottest little noises against your lips, and it’s not long before he’s ushering you onto the couch and helping you to lay on your back. He takes his place between your legs and glances upward to make sure he can use his mouth, kissing his way down your neck and across your chest before sucking a nipple between his lips as soon as you start to nod. He groans deep in his chest like the taste of you is something sweet, nibbles at your flesh and sucks in rhythmic pulses, leaving your breasts littered in little indents from his teeth.

Your head swims, the onslaught of pleasure leaving you breathless, dizzy. You don’t want to rush him but you’ve been wet for hours, and you know he’s been half hard most of the time. There’s only so long you can wait before you either need to stop or keep going, and you’re about to reach that point. He must be able to sense your restlessness because he pulls away with a pop, looking up at you with hazy eyes and swollen, shiny lips.

“What do you wanna do?” He asks, coming up to hover above you on his elbows.

“Everything,” you breathe in response, wrapping your legs around his waist to tug him into you.

You both shudder out a moan, his hips pressing into yours and his hard cock aligned perfectly with the ache between your legs. It feels like so much after so little, the pressure and heat of him, and it makes you buck up against him in search of more friction. His head drops into your neck, the whine he lets out muffled by your skin, and his own hips grind into yours, giving you what you so desperately need.

But it’s not enough, you need more.

“Mingi, do you wanna fuck me?”

He grinds into you again, harder this time, and you can feel the swears he mouths against your throat before he answers, “So fucking bad, baby. You’re all I can think about.”

You resist the urge to wiggle happily underneath him, your heart pounding even harder at the idea of Mingi thinking about you like this. You know you’ve been thinking about him, about having him, in your bed and in your shower and in your car and just about anywhere with a little privacy and at least one surface. You wonder if he’d be down for any of those, but figure your couch is a good enough start.

Pushing him just far enough away to get to your pants, you finish stripping. Mingi takes the hint, yanking off his shirt and shucking his sweats. His boxers go with them and you freeze in place, halfway through bicycling your underwear off and completely unprepared for what the sight of his dick would do to you.

You can feel yourself pulsing as you stare, Mingi taking charge of pulling your undies the rest of the way down and gasping at what he finds. You knew you were wet, but you don’t think either of you expected your panties to be sodden, basically translucent with how much you’ve been leaking. You’d be self conscious if Mingi didn’t look on the verge of tears, his brows screwed up and his eyes misty as he gazes at you. He sets one knee between your legs on the couch, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before whispering, “Can I eat you out? Please?”

Your whole body tenses in anticipation as you nod, letting him tug you to the edge of the couch and pull your legs apart. His hands feel so hot on you, his fingers clenching in your flesh, squeezing at the plush of your thighs just because he can. Another time, you’ll let him play with your body however long he likes but right now, you’re getting desperate.

He’s so close, his plump lips sucking kisses into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you need him to close that final distance, put his mouth to work between your thighs instead of on them.

“Mingi, I need-,”

He shoulders your legs further apart and leans forward, covering the whole of your pussy with his mouth and taking in a deep breath. Your thighs snap closed, boxing his head in, and you try to pull them apart and free him but his arms wrap around them and pull you closer to him. His face is buried in you now, his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue plunges inside of you, making your back arch and your heart stutter.

He groans and grumbles his way through you, the vibrations of his sounds sending you higher and higher. It’s like he can’t get enough, his head pushing deeper into your body and his eyes closed in rapture as he worships you. His agile tongue fucks in and out, spreading your walls and getting you ready for those long fingers.

You can’t wait to feel them inside you, feel them working you open and reaching depths his tongue can’t. You’re starting to feel achingly empty, but before you can even ask Mingi, he’s got two fingers primed at your entrance and his eyes on you. He notches a brow up and you nod quickly, chanting, “Yes, yes, yes,” and shivering when you feel them make contact.

They’re warm, longer than your own and thicker too. Normally, two would be a bit of a stretch to start but you’re soaking wet, relaxed from all of the foreplay to the foreplay, so they slide right in. He moans deeply, pressing his open mouth against your thigh and digging his teeth in as if to retaliate for how good your pussy feels around his fingers. You bite back a smirk and squeeze down around them, the contracting of your walls making them feel even bigger inside you.

Mingi looks up at you, his eyes shining and full of sincerity, and leans back in to close his lips around your clit and suck. Your reaction is instant, your pussy fluttering and your breath stuttering as he holds eye contact. You can’t look away, intoxicated by his movements and swiftly nearing the edge.

When he slides in one more finger and starts tonguing at your clit as he sucks it, you’re done for.

A flash of heat shoots through you, his arms anchoring you to the couch where you want to fly away, the coil in your belly tightening more and more until it bursts. Your walls clamp down on his digits, your hands flying to his head to pull him into you, making him whimper around your clit and suck harder as you cum.

You don’t know how long it goes on, just that Mingi never stops and you never want him to.

He easily pushes you into a second, a third, almost a fourth, before you clench your fingers in his hair and try to pull him up. He looks up at you with hazy eyes, his lips pink and swollen and shiny with your wetness.

“Wanna kiss you,” you mumble tiredly, pursing your lips and waiting for him to rise and grant you what you want.

He does, of course, getting to his feet and shaking out his legs before bracing a hand over you on the couch and leaning down to press his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on him but you don’t mind, like it even, the fact that there’s evidence of what he’s done to you. You’d like him to do more, but first you need to make sure he wants to.

“Do you still-,”

“God, yes,” he moans, nearly straddling you on the couch as he cups your jaw with his free hand and deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding against yours before his teeth close on your bottom lip.

“Condom?” He asks breathlessly, pulling away and sitting heavily on the couch. You take the hand he’s reached out to you, using it to steady yourself as you climb on top of him and respond, “Just got tested and I get the birth control shot, so…”

“Joong and Seonghwa took us all to get tested a couple weeks ago and everything was negative, so…”

“So, no condom.”

The thought of Mingi fucking you raw is enough to make your pussy start pulsing again, and you can tell he loves the idea too, his breaths coming faster and his hands growing possessive on you.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning down at his cock and waiting for him to nod before taking it in your hand. He’s hot to the touch, long and thick enough you’d need two hands to jerk him off, not that he needs it right now. He’s deliciously hard and already glistening with precum, and you feel the throbbing deepen, the emptiness inside you nearing pain.

“You gonna put me in?” He asks in a deep, soft voice as he rubs your thighs and squeezes your hips.

You angle his cock so you can slide it through your folds, the head bumping into your clit and making you jump before you roll your hips and notch it at your entrance. He lets you control the pace, his hands meandering over your breasts, stomach, and back as you start to work him inside.

“There we go, just like that, baby, fuck,” he murmurs, his grip getting tighter and tighter as you take more and more of him.

He’d spread you open on his fingers but it’s still a tight fit, gravity and determination pulling you down until your hips meet his and his cock sits fully inside you. You can’t speak, can’t keep your eyes open, the stretch so deep and your pussy so full you just might cry. You have no idea of Mingi’s reaction, can only hear the rapid filling and emptying of his lungs and the punched out noises that leave him every time you accidentally squeeze down. You have a feeling that if you could open your eyes, you’d find his clenched shut and his bottom lip bitten between his teeth.

The image you conjure is hot enough it gives you the strength needed to force your eyelids apart and look at him, your gaze finding a near exact match to that of your imagination. His head is resting against the back of the couch, his jawline sharp and his veins popping, and you have a sneaking suspicion he’s trying not to cum right now.

You can’t blame him, it had been hours of making out and then another hour of him making you cum, and he’s had barely any stimulation through all of that. You have half a mind to clamp your walls down on him, squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until he breaks, but instead, you’ll give him the time he needs.

It takes a minute or two of you just sitting on his cock for him to calm, but when he does, he’s ready to go. He bucks into you one, two, three times before gripping your hips and opening his eyes, his gaze raw and his face slack.

“How do you feel so fucking good?” He asks like he means it, like he’s waiting for an answer. You don’t have one, so you just smile and roll your hips into him, your grin growing when his breath hitches.

He swears roughly, his dick jumping inside you and his grasp tightening as he responds with a thrust of his own, your call and answer soon growing into a true rhythm. Your head falls back as you bounce in his lap, your thighs shaking every time his cock fills you again, the slapping of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. One of his hands leaves your hips to cup the back of your neck and hold your head up, making you hold his gaze as you gasp and moan. You’ve never had so much eye contact during sex before, the connection usually feeling far too intimate and exposing, but you love having it with Mingi.

It feels like he’s burrowing deeping into your heart with every thrust, carving his name into it with every brush of his thumb under your ear, taking it for his own as he makes you his own, his cock reaching sensitive spots you didn’t know you had.

You think he might be going through the same thing because he tugs you closer until you’re chest to chest and he’s just grinding inside you, your air mixing with his and your walls massaging his cock. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him into a kiss that feels more like a promise and whisper against his lips, “Mingi, I really, really like you. Like a lot. Like probably too much.”

Your last word is broken by a sharp thrust, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he whines, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me-”

He cuts himself off with a low moan, his other hand leaving your hip so he can wrap his arm around you and hold you so tight you almost can’t breathe.

“Cum, Mingi,” you tell him, feeling the heat burst inside of you almost instantly, his cock jerking and jumping inside of you as he fills you with his cum. You’ve never let someone fuck you raw before and the feeling of him flooding you is strange but hot, something you could easily get used to and probably grow to love, if he’ll keep doing it.

That’s something to discuss later, but for now, you’re busy. Mingi is coming down, his eyes teary as he blinks the haze away and leans down to rest his head against your sternum. You pet his hair with one hand and rub his back with the other, feeling his cum starting to trickle out now that he’s softening.

You’ll need to get off this couch eventually, clean yourselves up and gather the clothes you’d flung, but you can’t find the will to move yet. Mingi is so soft against you, so warm and sweet, and you don’t want this bubble to burst.

It might when it comes time for the relationship talk, but considering the fact that he just almost came from you telling him you really like him, you’re pretty sure it’ll go well.

.

It does, and Mingi leaves your apartment the next day with rumpled clothes, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, and good news for the groupchat.

Posted first on my patreon

my masterlist

♡ 𝖘𝖓𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑 ♡

♡ Ahem, @deathbyyeekies requested "the works" from me with a needy Mingi fic and, ya know, the works shall be delivered unto you, darling ♡

♡ Pairing: song mingi x curvy!fem!reader

♡ Summary: After a passionate weekend together you start ignoring Mingi's texts and calls which only makes him crave you even more

♡ Genre: smut sprinkled w/ some plot

♡ Word Count: 1.9kish

♡ Warnings: strong fem dom vibes but Mingi & reader are sorta switch at certain points, mostly he's down bad for you though, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), possessiveness, unprotected sex, creampie

♡ A/N: This is a request so there are some mentions of the reader being smaller than Mingi height wise though she's still a curvy babe!

What had he done? What cardinal sin had he committed that made him worthy of damnation? You ignore him entirely while other women kneel before him, worshiping the very ground he walks on. There are women who’d do anything for him. Follow his commands without question but you, somehow, had deemed him unworthy of such blind loyalty.

No matter how hard he tried to bury his memories of that weekend you spent together, his mind always drifted back to images of you beneath him on your bed, your teeth biting down on smeared, puffy red lips as he collected drops of arousal from your sweet pussy with his curved tongue. He knew it was all in his head but he swore he could still taste you on the back of his tongue, feel you dripping down the back of his throat. His heart nearly beat out of his chest at the thought of it. You were an addiction and the withdrawals were a bitch.

But you, for reasons he laid awake at night trying to uncover, hadn’t called him after. Five days went by without as much as a text from you. The guys all told him to forget about you but he couldn’t. Whatever you had done to him, the all consuming thirst you’d given him for your plush body, couldn’t be undone. It could only be satisfied by you and you alone. So here he is, the man who towered above you when he picked you up at the club that night, on his knees in your living room, fingers stroking your plump hips through the silk of your robe.

None of this had been intentional on your part. At least not at first. You knew his reputation when you met him. It had never crossed your mind that you might become something special to him. No other girl had. You’d simply accepted that you were no different and gave in to him anyway. Anything to feel his body against yours, the bass of his deep voice whispering filthy professions into your ear that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It never occurred to you that he’d pursue you the way that he has and, once it started, you couldn’t bring yourself to put him out of his misery.

The longer you ignored him the more needy he became. You went from having only received flowers from a man once or twice in your life to coming home to dozens of roses every day. There were love notes ancient poets would envy and gifts that cost more than you made in a month. The man was groveling, doing everything he could, until you finally gave in and asked him to come to your place. “Missed me?” you ask, your voice much too sweet for a creature so cruel, as you run your fingers through his hair, nails soothing an itch on his scalp he hadn’t noticed needed scratching before now. 

“Mmhmm” he hums, his full rosy lips brushing along the tender meat of your inner thigh. Your body shivers at the contact. Beneath all of the games, you’d missed him as much as he had you. It’s why you’d spent every night running your fingers over your clit, coming with his name flowing from your lips in the form of hushed moans. It’s why you have nothing beneath this robe that reveals enough of your soft body to make him salivate. You knot your fingers at the base of his scalp, tilting his head back to lock his eyes onto yours.

He’s ridiculously handsome, the prettiest boy you’ve ever laid eyes on, and he’s at your mercy. “You want me, Mingi?” He can only laugh to himself, nibbling at your heated flesh, his tongue leaving strips of moisture along your thigh. “No. Not want” he pants, strong hands sinking into your hips to bring your core so close to him that you can feel his breath warm against your clit, “Need.” You drape your left leg over his shoulder, thigh rocking against his cheek, “Show me.” Mingi can’t tell if that’s a show of dominance or submission, it’s honestly a bit of both, but it’s all he needs to hear to place his tongue along your slit.

“Mingi…” you gasp as it swirls into you, teasing your walls. You tighten around him, coating his tongue like he knew you would. “Sweetest pussy…” he slurps, licking between your folds, his tongue circling your stiff clit, “I’ve ever tasted. Fuck, baby. Mmmm.” Mingi’s hands are locked onto your hips, his hold inescapable as he purses his lips around your clit, suckling at it so deliciously that your legs begin to shake. Each time he flicks his chin up pleasure pulses through your veins.

Freeing one of your hips from his death grip, he brings his middle and pointer fingers to your entrance, splashing in the wetness of your soaked pussy before burying them inside of you. Your eyes fall closed as he hypnotizes you with the rhythm of his wrist. “One more?” he asks, spreading you out enough for his ring finger to join the others. “Yes…please” you whine, basking in the pressure brought on by the introduction of his third finger. This is what you both dreamed of night after night.

You drenching his chin in your juices. Him claiming your pussy with his fingers. Beginning again to own each other. To consume each other. Mingi mercilessly knocks against your sweet spot, having committed to memory the precise angle it takes to make you unravel. With his knuckles grinding hard against your slit, you can feel yourself getting ready to come and he does too. 

“You’re so close aren’t you, beautiful? Ready to come all over my fingers?” 

“Yeah…” you whine, knees growing weaker by the second.

“Yeah?” he teases, fucking into you harder. 

Before Mingi you hadn’t known that fingers could be this magical but fuck if they aren’t casting all sorts of spells on your body. How were you ever really going to deny him when he made you feel like this? Who could make you come the way he does? No one and he knows it. There’s no hiding it when your pussy’s nearly swallowing his entire hand, desperate for release. “Oh my…shit!” you cry out, your body folding as you hit your high. Mingi catches you, carefully lying you back on to the floor, his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

It’s so cute seeing how helpless you are just from his fingers. Squirming on the floor, tits spilling out of your robe, with your mouth wide open saying his name over and over like a broken record. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” he asks, taking full advantage of having you quite literally in the palm of his hand. “I don’t know…I…” you stutter, finding it impossible to string a sentence together. Mingi leans down, capturing one of your buds between his teeth, “Don’t lie to me.” He nips at your bud firmly enough to make you squeal, a gentle warning of what’s to come if you can’t get your answers straight. 

“I was scared!” you spit out, your hand resting on his as it slows inside of you, eventually coming to a stop. Mingi sits up, eyes narrowing, “Scared? Of what?” You bring your hands over your face to hide your embarrassment, “I was scared to end up like the other girls.” “Other girls?” he asks, sitting down beside you to process what you’re saying, “What 'other girls’?” You can’t bring yourself to answer but he won’t accept your silence. Mingi pulls your hands away from your face, hovering over you, “What ‘other girls’?” “Look, everyone knows that girls love you. You’re always flirting with them and…”

“Well, yeah, it’s my job but that doesn’t mean I sleep with them or send them flowers.” He leans in closer to you, his lips moistening yours with your own juices, “Or write them poems about how beautiful they are. Or beg for them. I begged for you.” All of the blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re…smiling? You roll your eyes at yourself. Ugh. “You did.” “And you know why?” “Why?” “Because,” he sighs, running his hand along the curves of your body, “I want you all to myself. I’ll beg again if I have to.”

His fingertips graze your twitching clit, reawakening your senses. Resting your hands on his cheek, you press your lips to his, your tongue sweeping into his mouth to taste whatever remains of yourself amongst the warmth of his cheeks. “No more begging.” You spread your legs for him to palm your exposed pussy, “I’m yours. Take me.” Take you? You can’t even begin to fathom the fire it ignites inside of him when you say that. “Take me,” you say it like you mean it because you do and Mingi doesn’t hesitate to do so, scooping you into his arms and carrying you to your bedroom, all while kissing you like his life depends on it.

When he finally puts you down you’re standing on your tippy toes, blindly undoing his pants to free the aching thickness stressing the fibers of his boxers. It slaps against your stomach, precum smearing on your lush belly. You stroke his length, tracing the veins that run from base to tip, “You gonna give it to me or what?” Mingi gently pinches your chin between his thumb and pointer fingers, “You’re really bossy for someone so short.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

“Fuck…you’re right” he smiles, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pick you up again.

This time your arms are around his neck, legs hooked around his waist, while he pushes into you. It’s gradual, the fullness that overtakes you inch by toe curling, back arching inch. Mingi spins around, laying back on the bed so that you’re on top of him. But he’s still in control, gripping your supple ass each time he disappears into you. You swallow his cock the same way you did his fingers. It’s almost as if you want him to lose his mind. You do. Burying your face in his neck, you inhale the intoxicating scent of his cologne, “Deeper. I…want all of you. Need.”

Mingi’s long arms close around you, making it impossible to move, and he grants your wish. There’s no “in and out” anymore. Only in. Mingi kisses your shoulder, rocking deep inside of you, fighting off the urge to come from how desperately you’re gripping him. But there's no use fighting it. The euphoria of having you again...it’s even more intense than last time.

“I’m…gonna cum. Where...want...me?”

You piece together his broken words, bringing your lips back to his. Giving him one final kiss, you stare into his eyes and whisper, “In me. Mark your territory.” You feel the air escape his lungs as his body convulses, the warm white liquid that painted your lips less than a week ago now adorning your walls. Mingi’s muscles loosen enough that you have the room to ride him through his high, triggering another of your own as your clit's pleasured by the friction between your bodies.

By the time you’re done with him, there’s nothing left. Every drop of anything he had to offer now belongs to your pussy and the grabbable, jiggly part of your inner thighs that it’s leaking down. You collapse onto his chest, hearing his heart race as you both struggle to catch the breath you lost. Mingi kisses you on the forehead, hugging you tightly again, “Mine.” You yawn, reaching a limp finger up to boop him on the nose, “Yours.”

After LIKE Part One | smg x f!reader

Posted first on my Patreon

Rating: M | WC: ~4.8k

Mingi has been your plug for nearly three years now. You've always liked him well enough, but something has changed between you. What happens after like?

Notes/Warnings: plug!mingi, weed use, food mention, kissing, stress/anxiety

Grad school is hard. Really hard, you’ve discovered.

You knew it would be, of course, but it’s difficult in ways you didn’t expect. First of all, you have no money. You can afford groceries and rent, thankfully, but luxuries are scarce. You’re also stressed nearly all the time, with your thesis looming over your shoulder and begging you to work on it even when you’re in class. You have friends, but you don’t really get to see them between your work and their own, so you return to an empty apartment most of the time.

You do have a lot of bright spots in your life too, though. You get to study what you love, you have friends to miss, and you can still afford little things that make your life better.

Your phone dings, a tone that means one of those bright spots is especially vibrant today. You just got off work at the coffee shop, a double from 6 AM to 4 PM, and your hair still smells of roasted espresso beans and turmoil but you’re beaming as you throw your uniform off and pull on clean clothes.

Mingi is free for you to come pick up, and after you complained of having trouble last time, he promised to roll your joints for you. He’s an expert and they always burn perfectly, and it also makes you feel a little special. Mingi doesn’t roll for just anybody, and considering that you’re quite literally terrible at it, you really appreciate that you’re somebody to him.

You and Mingi met in junior year of college. You were majoring in Psychology and Mingi was getting his degree in Hospitality, and somehow, you managed to have a shared class nearly every semester. He was cute but your eye was already focused on grad school and you didn’t think you had time for distractions. Then he approached you at San and Yeosang’s party nearly begging for help on the next exam and you decided maybe you did.

You also happened to spot the joints in his t-shirt pocket. You’d been looking for a plug for a while but hadn’t found anyone reliable, and having Mingi in your class would make it incredibly easy to arrange pickups.

Thus, you became Mingi’s tutor and Mingi became your plug, and you kind of sort of became each other’s friends too.

Three years later, you’ve both graduated and moved on; you to a Master’s program in Applied Psychology and Mingi to cooking school. He still deals on the side, but only to a select few as his reputation in the kitchen steadily grows.

The commute to his flat is easy, just a couple stops on the bus and a short walk to his building, and he buzzes you up as soon as you press the intercom button, meaning you only have the elevator ride to the third floor to prepare yourself to interact with him. It’s not that Mingi is intimidating or annoying or hard to deal with, it’s just that he’s so fucking hot you have trouble concentrating sometimes.

He’s always been tall but he’s gotten bigger and bigger over the years, and now the way he fills out his shirts and sweatpants makes you breathless. And, ugh, his smile. It’s so sincere, and kind, and sometimes playful, and sometimes knowing.

He doesn’t know everything though.

He doesn’t know you bought from Wooyoung two weeks ago, and that he smoked you out first.

Mingi always offers; he even offers to pick you up so you can try it before you buy it, but you hardly ever take him up on it because you just can’t get close to him now like you used to. In college, he didn’t affect you this way. He was just the cute guy you bought weed from that could make you laugh, and now, he’s the incredibly hot and caring guy you buy weed from that frequently makes you dizzy.

You needed a break from that, and Wooyoung was available. You can never let Mingi know though, he’ll get too jealous and you won’t be able to handle it.

You arrive at his flat before you’re ready, and you’ve barely knocked when the door unlocks and Mingi and his crooked smile appear in the frame.

“Hey, come in,” he grabs your hand and tugs you inside, your legs working overtime to keep up with his large steps. He leads you to his living room, sitting down on the couch and patting the cushion next to him. You settle a safe distance away, far enough that your thighs don’t touch, and bite back a smile at the way he eyes the space between you.

He leans over to the table next to the couch and pulls a tin from the drawer before opening it and passing it to you. It’s filled with neatly rolled joints, at least ten, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when he tells you the price.

“That’s way too little, isn’t it?” You respond incredulously, looking between him and the tin.

Mingi just shrugs, plopping a small jar of ground weed on the couch cushion between you and replying, “Includes that, too.”

“Mingi,” you try to hold back the whine that wants to sneak out in your voice, only pouting further when he holds up his hands and says, “It’s competitive pricing.”

Competitive pricing. So he does know.

Wooyoung must have bragged to Mingi about it, knowing his meddlesome nature and proclivity for playing with his friends. He’s harmless at his core but likes to cause trouble sometimes, and this is one of those times.

“I can’t believe you let him smoke you out,” Mingi crosses his arms and leans back against the arm of the couch to turn the full force of his guilt trip on you.

You groan pitifully, folding over to bury your face in your knees so you don’t have to look at him any longer. You don’t really have an excuse to give him, one that doesn’t give you away at least, and you definitely can’t explain yourself.

“Ahhh, it’s okay, babe, I’m just teasing,” Mingi rubs your shoulder with a big hand, pulling you up out of your shame bend. He seems sincere, but his eyes still look a bit dim and you vow to yourself that you won’t pick up from anyone else again.

You squeeze the hand on your shoulder before grabbing your phone and sending him the money he’d requested, plus a little extra. It went straight into his account so he can’t do anything about it, and you know he won’t send you the money back because cooking school is so expensive. He glowers halfheartedly at you when he sees the notification but as you thought, does nothing beyond putting his phone away and scrunching his mouth at you again.

Grinning triumphantly, you close the tin and tuck it in your purse along with the little jar he’d prepared for you. It seems you win this round, and you can only hope you win the next too.

Keyboard clicks and taps of a slipper on hardwood fill your room, the silhouette of your hunched, exhausted form illuminated by the bright light of your computer. You have a meeting with your thesis advisor tomorrow, and there’s still so many changes to make. You procrastinated in making use of her comments, leaving your editing to the last minute as usual, and now you’re paying the price.

You’ve been working for hours now, proofreading and crying and proofreading again, and you’re starting to feel like you’re losing your mind. You need a break, desperately, and your phone pings just as you push away from your desk to go lay on your bed.

You could cry (again).

Texting him back with what you think is an appropriate amount of waterfall-eyed emojis, you hop in the shower and go through your routine quickly.

When you emerge from the bathroom, you feel like a person again, and you’ve just slipped into your clothes when Mingi texts you back.

He’s… outside? You rush to your street-facing window and look down, finding Mingi leaning against his car with a beanie covering his hair and a smile big enough to power the stars covering his face. He spots you easily, waving and cupping his hands around his mouth. You fumble with the lock of the window, pushing it up and poking your head out to hear him yell, “Come on, the food’s getting cold.”

Your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast and it’s now, you swear as you check your watch, eight pm. You’re starving and your brain is still making dial up noises and your back hurts from your terrible posture but none of that matters, because Mingi is outside, waiting for you. With food.

You fly down the stairs, bursting out of your building with tears in your eyes and your arms already open for a hug. He pulls you into the cradle of his chest immediately, smoothing a hand over your hair and rubbing your sore back. “Everything okay?” He asks, pulling away to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing when he spots the bags under your eyes and your stress-bitten lips.

“Let’s get you over to mine, yeah?”

After opening the door with a flourish, he ushers you in with gentle hands and watches as you click in your seatbelt. He jogs around the front of the car, jumping in and checking his surroundings before pulling away from the curb and starting on the way to his place.

“Here, eat something.”

A searing hot bag gets dropped in your lap, smelling of fresh fries and salvation, and you dig in without a second thought. You catch Mingi’s cheeks curving in a smile out of the corner of your eye and fight back a grin of your own, always charmed by the way your happiness becomes his.

Mingi rolls into his parking space with ease, shutting the car off and turning to you to say, “I think you’ll love this new one, I tried it with Woo last night and it knocked us off our asses.”

That sounds like exactly what you need, and you follow closely at his heels as you traverse the hall to his flat. His body blocks your entire view but you stop at the right door anyway, so used to this walk that you could do it with your eyes closed. He unlocks the door quickly and beckons you in first, a wall of scent hitting you and making your eyes tear up.

They’re not watering out of disgust (as they have in the past in other men’s apartments), they’re watering because you can smell spam fried rice, and you know he’s made it for you.

Mingi speeds past you to the kitchen and you go straight to the living room. He said in the beginning to make yourself at home, so you do. You settle into your preferred corner of the couch, noting with something like dragonflies in your belly that he’s already prepared a coaster, blanket, and the remote for you.

You wonder if all his other clients get this kind of luxury treatment, but find yourself not wanting to think of him having other clients at all. You know he does, obviously, but prefer to think he likes you the best and never need to know otherwise.

When you turn the TV on, it’s set to soccer. You’d love to change the channel but recognize the team as Mingi’s favorite, so you leave it on and bump the volume up. Just as they score a goal, he returns from the kitchen carrying two steaming bowls, a pair of water bottles, and utensils. You bounce in your seat as he carefully sets them down on the coffee table in front of you before leaning over to retrieve his bong and lighter from the end table. He’s already packed it, the angel, and he passes it straight to you.

Mingi raises his hand to light it for you as you bring it up to your mouth, and you look up through your lashes at him while you inhale. He holds your gaze, biting his lip and watching you take the hit with darkened eyes.

The taste is sharp in your mouth, the smoke sitting heavily in your lungs for a second or two before you blow it out with pursed lips. You angle away from Mingi, too polite to blow it straight in his face though you have a sneaking suspicion he just might enjoy it. You can still feel his eyes on you, but you need a second to yourself to let the effects roll in.

When you turn back to Mingi, it’s like everything around you has slowed down. He’s grinning proudly, and you’re not sure whether he’s proud of you or his own weed, but you don’t really care either way. You’re just happy that he’s happy, and you hand him the bong with a smile of your own.

Mingi takes his hit quickly and skillfully, and you let your focus fall to the hot rice waiting for you on the coffee table.

It’s delicious, as his food always is, and the comforting flavor shrinks your stress with each bite. Just the one hit was enough to melt you into the couch and with your free hand, you reach for the blanket. It’s hard to spread it over your legs while holding the bowl, and Mingi sets the bong down to help you.

His hands brush your thighs in the process, and you thank yourself for putting yoga pants on after your shower. You already feel floaty, you don’t need the feeling of Mingi’s hands on your skin adding to that.

You hum, taking another bite and snuggling into your blanket before looking up at Mingi. His eyes are already on you and you can see the tips of his ears turn red as a sheepish smile rises to his face.

Catching him looking at you is one of your favorite things in the world, and it happens oh so often. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinating to him, but you won’t complain about it, especially when it means you often get all of his attention.

It’s something you noticed in uni when you started hanging out with him after picking up at parties instead of just leaving like you used to. He would usually be surrounded by a mix of people when you arrived, and as soon as he set eyes on you, it’s like they’d all disappear.

Mingi grabs the bong and offers it to you, exchanging it for your rice. He sets it on the table next to his and lights the bowl for you, tucking into his own rice as soon as it’s burning enough. You take in more this time, feeling the smoke sear down your throat and into your lungs and letting it stay there before pushing it out away from Mingi again.

You breathe for a while, swallowing down a cough with a mouthful of water before turning to Mingi and saying, “Thank you for this, and for the rice. It’s fucking delicious.”

“Course, babe,” he nudges you affectionately with his elbow. “I know it’s your favorite. How’s your thesis going?”

You grimace thinking of the work waiting for you at home, and Mingi rushes to assure you, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

“No, it’s okay. I just have a meeting with my advisor tomorrow and I left accommodating her comments until the last minute, like a dummy. So I’ve been working on it all day and I’m like, three quarters of the way done but before you texted, I was seriously on my way to losing it.”

Your head falls to rest on Mingi’s bicep, the muscle surprisingly cushy and his smooth skin warm under your cheek.

“You’re not a dummy, you’re a genius. You just procrastinate because you know in your heart that you work best under pressure.”

“No, I just didn’t want to do it,” you reply with a shrug, tilting your head to look up at Mingi.

“Shhhh, my way sounds better,” he places his index finger against your lips and you take a quick breath in, freezing in place. Mingi freezes too, his half-lidded eyes locked on your mouth for one, two, three heartbeats before he pulls away with a forced laugh. He pulls off his beanie to run his fingers through his hair, his attention briefly pulled to the game as his team scores again.

He cheers and bounces in place, flashing a grin at you that turns small, secretive, when he sees the look on your face. You’re still reeling from the moment you just shared, and it’s frustrating that he seems to have completely recovered. Maybe touching you just isn’t that big of a deal to him, maybe he doesn’t feel the distance like you do, or maybe you’re much further gone than he is.

You can believe the first two, but the last one would hurt.

Mingi picks you up this time, takes you for a drive. You think he can tell that you’re not doing the best mentally, because he grins at you softly and squeezes your hand when you get in the car.

You don’t know where you’re going and you don’t care, all you care about is that you’re not staring at your thesis in the quiet dark of your room anymore. It was starting to mock you, the work left undone, and you desperately needed a break.

Mingi texted at the perfect time, just when you were about to officially call it quits. He could somehow tell that you were at the end of your rope, and told you he’d be there in fifteen with something to relax you and a new playlist for you to enjoy.

He arrived in twelve, and your heart fluttered the whole way down the stairs.

Now you’re on the way to a place you don’t know, the street names unfamiliar and the distance growing between your flat and his sedan. You don’t mind it, having needed a getaway for a while, and you settle into your seat with a sigh as the car travels down unrecognizable roads.

An undetermined amount of time passes, your mind going into a soft, relaxed state the further you go. Eventually, you pull up to a deserted park and Mingi turns off the car, looking at you with warm eyes and a charming smile.

“So, I’ve got some blunts for us, and I also went to the convenience store and grabbed your favorite snacks.”

“You sweet, sweet boy,” you breathe, dangerously close to leaning over and kissing him right on those plump lips.

He grins shyly, passing you a blunt and holding up the lighter as you bring it to your mouth. You take in a deep hit, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as you can take before exhaling away from his face. You feel the haze set in immediately, your combined stress and exhaustion making you that much more susceptible to the high coming over you.

Mingi’s eyes stay on you, feeling like physical weights holding you down as you stifle the rising coughs. You pass him the blunt, watching as he takes in a pull of smoke and blows it out into the vacant backseat.

He holds it out for you, letting go just before you take hold and nearly dropping it in the place of no return that is the gap between the seat and the console. He gasps, fumbling to catch it before it can burn the leather or fall in between the seats.

He grins sheepishly before grabbing your hand in his and wrapping your fingers around the blunt to be sure you’ve got it. You bring it to your lips and take in a breath, feeling the smoke settle in all the crevices of your lungs before you exhale it toward the roof of the car.

Mingi’s eyes are still on you but they feel different, heavier, and when you turn to him to pass the blunt back, his gaze is on your lips.

The hazy air buzzes with electricity, the cab of his sedan suddenly feeling two sizes too small. The blunt burns away where you hold it aloft, just waiting for Mingi to take it. He doesn’t move, seemingly frozen in place as wasted smoke fills the space between you. He finally raises his hand, but instead of the blunt, he reaches for your face, his big palm spanning your whole cheek.

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” he breathes, his voice so full of longing that it takes yours away, leaving you to nod as he leans in. Your eyelids flutter down, your lips just barely puckered and your heart galloping in your chest. It flips when his mouth touches yours, skips when he lets out a wounded noise and presses harder, soars when his fingers slide to the back of your neck and tilt your head to the angle he deems best for kissing you out of your mind.

You sigh into him, melting closer and closer until you’re all but draped over the middle console with just his hand holding you up. He laughs against your mouth, his teeth digging into the plush of your bottom lip just enough to sting. You feel calmer than you ever have kissing someone but you also feel like you could vibrate out of your skin, and it can only be the potent combination of good weed and Mingi.

It’s a cocktail you’ve tried before but never like this, and it only takes a few minutes of his lips pressed to yours for you to know that you can’t go back. You can’t go back to not knowing what it’s like to kiss him, to feel his fingers in your hair, to get this close to him and then have him pull you even closer.

You can’t go back to just being a friend/client, someone who only sees him when they need something.

You want to be more than that to him, and see him all the time, and kiss him all the time, and-

And he’s pulling away. Why is he pulling away?

“Y/n?”

“Hm?” You force your eyes open and lean back far enough to take in his expression. He looks… sad? Regretful? Not exactly what you expected or what you’d like to see after he’s just kissed you for the first time, but you try not to let your feelings get hurt and wait for him to speak.

Except… he doesn’t. He swipes a thumb over your cheekbone and pulls away, reaching into the backseat before setting the bag of treats on your thigh and putting the car in reverse. You’re unsure of what just happened and what to do about it, but you are hungry and you could really use some sugar right now, so you glumly open the bag and start eating.

You chew absentmindedly, your eyes wandering over to Mingi’s face. You can tell he’s focused on driving but he looks stressed, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. You wish you could make him feel better but you don’t actually know what’s wrong, and with your mind still buzzing from weed and the kiss, you think talking may not be the best idea.

You ride in silence for a few minutes, watching the buildings whiz past and bopping along to his playlist. When Mingi’s favorite song comes on and he neglects to sing the opening line, you decide you’ve had enough.

“Mingi, what’s wrong?” You plead, your eyes tracing his side profile and your fingers itching to intertwine with his. He sighs, chewing on his lip and nervously darting his eyes from mirror to windshield to mirror.

“I just… I didn’t want it to happen that way. I know I asked, and that’s my fault, this whole thing is, but I- fuck. I’m doing this all wrong.”

Shaking his head, he clicks the blinker on and pulls carefully into a dimly lit parking lot. He turns the car off and undoes his seat belt, turning to you and fighting to tuck one knee up on the seat.

You’re sure your confusion is clear on your face, as is the small amount of hurt you can’t will away, and Mingi takes both of your hands in his, looking at them instead of you.

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that. I mean, we were high, you’re stressed, and you’re buying. I guess I just wanted it to be more… romantic, but I got impatient and ruined everything.”

He wanted your first kiss to be romantic. He’s thought about your first kiss before, and about how he wanted it to be.

You could scream, but you figure you should reassure him first.

“Mingi, that’s so sweet I want to cry, but don’t be so dramatic. We can always kiss again.”

“We can?” He pouts, finally looking up and meeting your eyes, his own swimming with what you fear are unshed tears.

“Yes!” you squeeze his hands emphatically, “Literally any time you want.”

“Like… right now?” His eyes dart down to your lips, lingering there as they stretch in a grin. You nod, still smiling, still freaking out inside that he’s envisioned your first kiss, and still desperately hoping for a second.

He leans in closer, his lashes brushing his cheeks and his lips parting before he presses them softly against yours. You can’t help but hold your breath, somehow more nervous about this kiss than the first. It doesn’t take long for Mingi to relax you though, his fingers sinking into your hair and his air mixing with yours.

You sink into the kiss, sighing out the rest of your worries and cupping his jaw to hold him to you. He makes a soft sound as his whole body tips closer, his fingers tightening in your hair and his teeth digging into your bottom lip again. You can’t help but wonder where else he’d bite if given the chance, and can only hope the answer is all over.

When he pulls away this time, you’re dizzy, the sun has gone down, and you’re inches from launching yourself over the center console to climb in his lap. There’s nothing you want to do more than keep kissing him, but it seems he has other plans.

“I should get you home, you need to rest,” he breathes, his voice ragged and his thumb tracing the darkness under your eye.

“No, you should kiss me some more,” you exhale back, sliding your fingers into his hair and using your hold to tug him back to you. His chuckle sounds more like a sigh but he gives in anyway, pressing his plush lips to yours and letting a big hand cover your thigh. You were feeling warm before but with his calloused fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, you feel hot, like you could melt or burst into flames or combust.

Any one of the three is a possibility so long as Mingi keeps his hands on you, which is why you’re part relieved and part devastated when he pulls away. You lick your lips, chasing his taste but letting him settle back into his seat. Your hand falls from his hair and he catches it, smooching the back with a loud smack and brightly grinning at you.

You giggle freely, feeling lighter than you have in days and barely even dreading returning to your flat. “Can I take you home now?” He asks, squeezing at the flesh of your thigh just because he can.

“Yeah, you can take me home now,” you whisper back with a small, fond smile, covering his hand with yours to keep it there as he turns the headlights on and exits the parking lot. You drift for most of the ride back, Mingi’s soft, low voice lulling you slowly to sleep.

You blink awake as he pulls up to your flat, rubbing at your eyes and at the numb spot on your face where you were resting against the window. You look over with a drowsy smile and lean forward to kiss him goodbye, clumsily unbuckling your seatbelt as you do.

“I would walk you up, but I got towed last time,” he pouts apologetically, making you let out a sleepy laugh and respond, “I know, baby, you called me crying after.”

“I wasn’t crying!” he swears as you climb out of the car and gently shut the door.

What you don’t see as you walk away is him slowly tipping forward to rest his head against the steering wheel and whispering gleefully to himself, “She called me baby.”

AN: written as a commission for a diff idol and reworked to fit mingi!! beta’d by @petrichor-mingi thank you!!

part two will have smut :-)))

Part Two

pls reblog if you enjoyed! i would love to hear your thoughts 💖

My Masterlist

After LIKE Part Two | smg x f!reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.2k

You and Mingi find out what happens after like.

Part One

Warnings: weed mention, grinding, dirty talk, big dick!mingi, oral f. rec., fingering, possessive!mingi, restraining but not really, unprotected sex, creampie

Reader Notes: wap, gets carried by mingi, hands are smaller than mingi's 

You sit heavily on your bed, your skin still shiny with lotion and a damp towel holding all of your hair. It’s been a week since that day in the car, and you haven’t seen Mingi since. It’s no one’s fault - you’ve been insanely busy with school and work and he picked up a new apprenticeship so your respective free time has been limited.

But you just finished up at the cafe and you’re pretty sure Mingi mentioned keeping his Friday’s clear, so you’re hoping you’ve caught him at a good time. You miss him, like you never thought you could, and it doesn’t help that you can’t stop thinking about what happened last week.

Nobody’s ever kissed you like that, so thoroughly, so passionately, so carefully, like getting to be close to you at all is a privilege, and you want more. You want to see him and touch him and kiss him and you want to do it now, so when your phone lights up with a text, you open it and bring it to your face immediately.

You squeal, dropping back to rest on your bed and holding your phone to your chest as if it’s something precious. Twenty minutes means he’s dropping whatever he was doing to come to your place, and you feel your heart squeeze in your chest as you picture him zipping around his apartment, getting ready to come see you.

Twenty minutes also doesn’t give you a lot of time to get dressed and tidy up, but you keep your flat relatively clean so there isn’t too much to do. A quick sweep over your bedroom, living room, and kitchen confirms this. The real dilemma is in what to wear.

Do you go for full comfort, like you know he will? Do you wear something cute but casual, something that makes you look like you’re trying but not too hard? Should you risk going for sexy? You do have that little satin pajama set…

In the end, you decide on a pair of lounge pants that make your ass look amazing and a tank top that’s just low cut enough. You’re comfortable, but you still feel and look hot and you hope Mingi will think so as well.

You miss a time where you didn’t agonize over your clothing choices, but you suppose this is who you are now. Someone who goes through five different outfits before landing on the right one, someone who sits on their couch and waits for a knock, someone who all but runs to the door when it finally comes.

Mingi seems as relieved to see you as you are to see him, thankfully. As soon as you get the door open, he breathes a greeting and pulls you into a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck and his wrapping around your waist. He smells so good, fresh and clean and manly, and when he pulls back to press a kiss to your forehead, you feel yourself melt.

It’s a good thing he’s holding you up, and you only become more grateful as his eyes travel from head to toe, roving lovingly over every clothed inch of you. Your agonizing was not in vain, it seems, his gaze filling with heat before he clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. He apparently forgot he’d pulled a beanie on because he knocks it right off his head, making his cheeks tint in a blush as he leans down and swipes it off the ground.

Mingi wrings the knitted hat in his hands and shifts on his feet, looking at you through his eyelashes. You grin affectionately, reaching up to fix his hair with your fingers before cupping his cheek and tilting your chin. He takes the hint, leaning in and softly pressing his lips to yours.

This kiss is just as good as the rest, just as sweet and right and perfect, and when he pulls away, you can’t swallow the sigh. You wish he was still kissing you, but he opens his mouth to speak instead.

“So, did you wanna buy today? Or…,” he trails off, looking nervous for your answer.

“No, I just wanted to see you,” you respond with a shy smile, holding a hand out with raised eyebrows.

“Oh,” he exhales, tension you hadn’t noticed in his shoulders fading away as he beams back at you and takes your hand in his bigger one. You lead him to your couch, sitting down first and patting the cushion next to you. Usually, you go to his place, and you can tell he’s feeling a bit out of sorts here.

You don’t know how to soothe him beyond behaving normally, so that’s what you do. You turn the TV to the show you both watch on repeat and chat at him until he loosens up enough to let his thigh touch yours. His warmth radiates into you, drawing you into his gravity and making you lean closer and closer until you’re all but pressed against his side.

He shifts next to you, his arm raising and staying aloft until you snuggle in and get comfortable. His arm feels heavy when he drapes it over your shoulders, but it’s a welcome weight, one that makes you feel safe and content and, honestly, a little sleepy.

You could easily doze off like this, nestled into his side with his heart thumping under your cheek and your breathing synced with his. When his fingers start to play with the ends of your hair, you know it’s not only a possibility, but an inevitability. You can feel every blink growing longer, every breath growing deeper, and as his fingers climb their way up your hair and to your scalp, you let your eyes fall completely shut.

Hopefully, Mingi won’t mind you having a little nap.

When you blink awake, your flat is dark but for the flashing light of the TV. Mingi is breathing slowly under you, and you look up at him to find his eyes closed and his lips gently parted. You don’t know when you became horizontal, but you can’t say you mind, with Mingi’s chest beneath your cheek and his thick thigh pressed between yours.

You can feel something else pressing against you, but there’s no way. Sure, Mingi could be having a very good dream, but the, for lack of a better word, pipe that lays against your inner thigh is just too fucking big to be real. But he is 6 foot, and his hands and feet are massive, so is it really that hard to believe his cock would be huge too?

“Mmmm,” Mingi rumbles under you, his chest vibrating with the depth of his voice. You can feel him start to wake up, his fingers twitching in your hair and his belly raising as he takes a deep breath in.

His eyes open slowly, his head angling in different directions as he looks around your dark flat. Grinning down at you sleepily, he tugs your hair and murmurs something you can’t make quite out, something about warmth and being happy. You can tell the exact moment he realizes how hard he is, his body tensing under yours and a sharp gasp leaving his lips.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he shifts under you and tries to pull his hips away. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you attempt to smile reassuringly, petting his abs over his t-shirt and attempting to keep potential awkwardness at bay.

“You’re right,” he deadpans, “It’s your fault.”

“It is?” you freeze, your smile falling and your hand stilling on his stomach. He smirks down at you, obviously proud of his little turn around and almost obnoxiously attractive as a result. You don’t know what else to say, and you’re sure he can tell, probably even likes having stunned you.

“What do you think I was dreaming about?” he quirks an eyebrow at you, letting his eyes fall to your lips.

“My sparkling personality?”

“Nah, babe. But if you don’t want to hear it, I won’t tell you.”

You know he’s teasing you, but you rush to say, “No no no no, I wanna hear it!”

You can tell he’s biting back a smirk at your enthusiasm, making you shift on top of him and inadvertently grind against his hard on. He clenches his jaw, the hand not tangled in your hair finding its way to your hip for a sharp squeeze.

“I was dreaming about you, laying in your bed in the dark, just like the photo you sent me.”

“You couldn’t even see me in that,” you remind him, but he shakes his head and breathes, “Maybe not but I knew you were there, and because I couldn’t see you, I had to fill in the blanks for myself. What you were wearing, what you were doing, who you were thinking about…”

He pulls your hips into his, the thickness of his thigh spreading your legs further and making you press harder against him.

“And in my dream, you weren’t wearing anything. You were naked, fresh out of the shower like you were when you answered the door, and you were touching yourself, thinking about me. Do you ever do that? Touch yourself and think about me?”

You gasp at his bold words, your mind going back to what exactly you did that night after you sent him that picture. How does he know?

“I know because I do the same thing, babe. I lay in my bed and I think about you, and I get so fucking hard, I can’t stand it.” His voice is deep now, his eyes half lidded and his cock throbbing beneath you as he works both you and himself up.

“Tell me, please. What do you think about?” he begs, grinding you over his thigh and gasping when he feels how your wetness has soaked through both of the layers on your bottom half.

“I think about you, how you would touch me and what you’d want to do to me and how big you probably definitely are and-”

And before you can finish exposing yourself, his mouth covers yours in a needy kiss, his groan so low pitched, you feel the vibrations in your pussy. He grows harder against you with each grind, the front of his sweats getting progressively darker from both his leaking cock and your weeping cunt.

“Fuck, can I touch you? I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for fucking years.”

“Years?!” You choke, bucking in his hold and struggling to sit up. You straddle him, your hands planted on his chest, and nearly shout, “Explain!”

Mingi grimaces, removing his hands from your hips to press his palms to his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at you as he responds. You won’t allow that, pulling his hands back and returning them to their rightful place while he gathers his courage.

“When I went up to you at San and Yeosang’s party, I wanted to ask you to dance. I saw you in my classes but you only seemed interested in learning so I didn’t want to bother you, and when I saw you at the party, I thought it was time to shoot my shot. But I chickened out and talked to you about class instead and you looked kinda… disinterested, until you saw the joints.”

All your breath rushes out of you, leaving you lightheaded and swaying on top of Mingi as you process his words. He’s been into you… this whole time? No wonder he was so upset after your first kiss, he’d been envisioning it for three years.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you, I know that would be a lot and that we don’t actually know each other that well, but I want to get to know you that well. I want to be able to say I’m in love with you and I want to know that you’ll say it back.”

You’re a little relieved to hear that he’s not in love with you, and over the moon to hear that he wants to be. You’re also slightly scared because admitting your feelings has never been your forte, and you know it’s your turn now.

“Mingi, I- I could see myself falling in love with you. You’re so thoughtful and sweet, you know my favorite snacks and what to do when I’m stressed - you’ve always taken care of me. And it helps that you’re ridiculously hot.”

He flexes beneath you, grinning so brightly you’re nearly blinded with it. He’s also still hard, still throbbing and pressed between your legs, and your hips move before you can even think about why they shouldn’t. Nevermind that you’re having a conversation three years in the making, you have a need that’s been brewing just as long.

His head tips back at the friction, his jawline so sharp, you want to cut your tongue on it and his neck so tantalizing, your teeth ache with the desire to sink in. There’s nothing stopping you, so you lean down and drag your canines over his jugular, nipping your way to his ear to whisper, “And yes, you can touch me.”

His whole body trembles in a shiver, his cock twitching under you and his hands so tight on your hips, you know you’ll bear his fingerprints later. He gives you one last squeeze before smoothing his hands up your back, pulling you flush to him and sitting up in a movement so sudden, it steals your breath and sends your heart galloping.

You don’t have time to reorient yourself before he tips you backwards and gazes down at you with half-lidded eyes, his hands hovering over your body like he doesn’t know where he wants to touch first. You’d think after so many years spent yearning for you, he’d have a plan but-

“Can I take this off?” he breathes, his palms already sliding up your stomach and taking your tank with them. The fabric obscures your vision as soon as you nod, your arms automatically raising to allow him to pull it all the way off. You’re left in a bralette and your lounge pants, and before you can ask him to, Mingi hauls his shirt over his head, leaving you speechless and far too distracted to assist him in taking your bra off.

He glows in the natural light flowing into your living room, his muscles defined and his hair messy. He looks like a dream, literally, he looks like he did in the dream you had last night, except now you can really see him, touch him, feel him. You can feel his fingers fumbling behind your back to undo the clasp, you can feel his strong arms bracketing your waist, you can feel his warm thighs spreading yours apart.

You can also feel how wet you are, especially now that air is coming into contact with the damp gusset of your pants. You’d be embarrassed if Mingi wasn’t hard enough to cut a diamond, if he wasn’t wide eyed and slack jawed at seeing your top half bare, if he wasn’t currently ducking toward your chest with an obvious mission in his eyes.

He cups your breasts with his hands, testing their weight and holding them up for his seeking lips, his mouth wrapping around one nipple and his fingertips rolling the other. Your back arches at the wet heat that engulfs you, a sharp gasp escaping when he sets his teeth into the soft flesh and gives it a tug.

Pulling away to admire his handiwork, he brushes a thumb over the mark he just left and leans back, curling his fingers in the waistband of your pants and beginning to tug. You lift your ass just enough to help, letting Mingi fold your legs up and yank the pants off of them like he’s personally offended by the article of clothing.

You’re left in just your panties, and thank God you chose a cute pair because he’s looking so closely at you, you want to squirm. His eyes feel like physical weights on you, his hands shaking where he carefully places them on your stomach and drags them down. As he tucks his fingers into the waist of your underwear, you expect him to start taking them off but instead, he pulls them up, putting pressure on your clit and outlining your wet folds.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, one hand flying down to curl around his fingers and the other clawing at the arm of the couch.

“Having some fun.” His focus is still stuck between your legs, his voice gravelly and low, “I waited three years, babe, I have a lot of ideas.” That’s all you need to hear, the reminder of how long he’s wanted you.

“Play away,” you release his hand, letting yours join its twin above your head, and he groans at the picture you make.

“So fucking pretty, baby. Keep your hands there, yeah?”

You nod and do your best to stay still as he hikes your stretched underwear up high on your hips and spreads his knees, splaying your legs even further apart. You’re almost completely exposed like this but it’s hot, you feel hot, like maybe Mingi is the lucky one here, not you.

He’s definitely acting like that’s the case, muttering little compliments under his breath and touching you so reverently you’re shocked he’s not on his knees worshiping you. When he tucks your knees up and slides down the couch so he can shoulder your thighs apart and stare right at your clothed cunt, you wonder if that’s his next step.

You wouldn’t mind, don’t mind this, bar the fact that you wouldn’t miss your underwear. You mind it even less when he tentatively places his palms on your thigh and starts to glide them up, his calluses from lifting dragging against your sensitive skin and making you shiver.

His thumbs trace the edge of the dampened fabric, threatening to slip under and touch you bare, and you could cry at how much of a tease he’s being. You’re aching for it, your pussy so empty and wet, you won’t be surprised if he has you begging before he even takes his pants off. You’re almost ready to beg now, and just as you open your mouth to let out a, “Please,” he slides his fingers into your panties.

“Fuck,” you say in unison, your utterance sounding more like a sigh than a swear as he glides his thick fingers through your folds and over your clit. It throbs under his touch, desperate for attention, but he bypasses it to dip into your entrance and gather more of your wetness on his fingers.

He uses his other hand to pull your underwear to the side as he brings his fingers up into the light of the TV, spreading them and smirking at the strings of arousal that bridge the gap. You whine and cover your face with your hands, embarrassed at how wet you are and at the fact that he’s practically gloating over it.

“Don’t hide,” he chastises you, sucking at his fingers before peeling your hands away from your face and returning them to their place above your head. “I love how wet you are, it makes me feel good and it’ll be easier for you to take my dick later.”

He returns his focus to your cunt, licking at his lips like he’s chasing the taste of you he’d just gotten and asking, “Can I eat you out? Need you in my mouth.”

“Please!” you gasp, watching him stare at your pussy like you’re a ten course meal and he’s famished. He dives in as soon as you finish speaking, his lips finding your clit so fast you don’t even have time to take in another breath before you’re gasping again and digging your nails into the couch to keep your fingers from disappearing into his hair.

The sounds he makes as he feasts on you are obscene, his whimpers and groans and grunts sending pulses of want through your body that all end where he begins. Shaking his head, he buries his tongue deeper within your folds, curling it around your clit and sliding it as deep inside you as he can reach. No one has ever eaten you out like this before, like they’ll die if they don’t taste every drop of you, like your cunt is air and they’ve been suffocating, like they’re on death row and you’re their last meal.

It’s incredible, and it only gets better when he pulls just far enough back to rasp, “Fingers?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Mingi.” Those may be the only words you know now, all others erased from existence by his appetite. One finger prods at your entrance before sinking in with ease thanks to how drenched you are, and you clench down around it without even thinking, your body so needy for something to fill you up that just one of his thick fingers is enough.

A second joins the first, the stretch making you sigh and his lips around your clit making you keen. He curls them, rooting around for your g-spot and finding it before you can take another breath. Digging in, he rubs his calloused fingertips over the sensitive patch of nerves, your back arching and your walls fluttering as he fucks you with his fingers.

He sucks at your clit, worrying it between his lips and laving at it with his tongue, and already, you’re starting to get close. “Harder, Mingi, please,” you whine, needing just a bit more to get there and more than willing to tell him.

His fingers pound into you, hooking into your g-spot on every thrust in and spreading on every stroke out. It’s a tight fit but he works another finger in beside the first two, his digits so much longer and thicker and better than yours. The stretch adds another layer of pleasure to what you already feel, your cunt so full with his fingers, you almost can’t believe you’re going to take his cock.

But, by God, you will, or you’ll die trying. First, though, you’ll cum.

It was really only a matter of time, and when he curls his fingers into your g-spot and leaves them there with a harsh suck of his mouth on your clit, you’re done. The wave that overcomes you is inescapable, pulls you under and into a state of rapture so blinding, you almost don’t even notice his eyes on you.

But, there they are, watching you tumble through the orgasm he pushed you into with a heat and headiness you’ve never seen before. Knowing that he’s watching you makes everything better, heightens every sensation and draws out every burst of bliss, and when he finally pulls away, he’s still watching you.

His lips are swollen, the whole lower half of his face soaked with your arousal, and he’s looking at you like he could go for seconds, thirds, and fourths. You’d let him, would let him drown in you all day if he asked, but right now, you need him to split you open.

“Fuck me, Mingi,” you half sigh, half plead, your face crumpling in impatience when he takes his time pulling his fingers out of you before licking off every single trace. He grins up at you from between your spread legs, resting his cheek on your thigh and exhaling, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, Mingi,” you whine, “Fuck me, fuck me, fu-”

He pushes your legs apart and slides up your body, resting his hands on either side of your head and connecting your mouth with his in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you love it, love tasting the physical evidence of your desire for him and his hunger for you.

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his sweats and he mumbles, “Off,” into your mouth, taking over when you take too long. He pushes them and his boxers down, kicking them off his legs and leaving his massive cock hanging between your bodies and brushing against your stomach.

It’s hot to the touch and leaking precum onto your skin, and it’s also the biggest you’ve ever seen, as thick as a can of soda and long enough to reach the end of you. Any trepidation you feel vanishes when you look back up to Mingi and find him examining you with a worried expression.

“Do you think it’ll fit?” he gently asks, looking back and forth between his body and yours with doubt.

“Make it fit,” you tell him, widening your legs as one of his hands reaches down to line his cock up with your entrance. You both watch him enter you, watch his cock split you open and spread you apart, watch it carve a path inside you that’s for him and him alone.

He shudders out a long breath as your cunt stretches to welcome him, his hips getting closer and closer to yours until they’re pressed together, his cock fully seated inside you and filling you to the brim.

You can’t breathe and it seems he can’t either, his elbows buckling and his upper body dropping to rest on yours. He’s mumbling something into your shoulder, a litany of words you can’t make out and one phrase you can, “Fucking tight and wet and perfect, never felt this good, never.”

You preen beneath him, your pussy fluttering and your hips wiggling, making him groan deep in his chest, press his teeth into your skin, and give you a sharp thrust. You buck back, following him when he recedes, and he starts moving his hips in an unhurried, smooth rhythm, his movements eased by your overflowing arousal and the three fingers he’d opened you up with.

He fucks you like that, slow and deep and dirty, until you feel like you could scream. It feels amazing, and you love being this close to him, but you need him to go harder, faster, need him to fuck you like he means it.

“Mingi,” you begin, your voice more ragged than you expect, and he lifts his head up with a smirk, grinds his hips against yours, and pulls back, sitting up on his heels and hoisting you into his lap.

You can’t hold in your gasp at the new angle, nor your moan at the way he fills you again, and again, and again. You clench down at the picture he makes, his abs flexing with every thrust and his hands huge on your hips, while he bullies through your tightness to tap your g-spot with the head of his cock. Your back arches, a wounded cry leaving your open mouth as he starts fucking you in earnest, just like you wanted.

It’s perfect, he’s perfect, everything you could ever need or ever want, and suddenly, you feel the urge to tell him.

“Mingi, you’re so fucking good, you fill me up so well,” you whimper, and you can feel him get harder in you, feel him twitch and leak and throb.

“Like nobody else, right?” he questions breathlessly, his hands tight on your hips and his brow furrowed.

“Like nobody else,” you confirm with a squeeze of your insides and a sigh of his name.

“And there won’t be anybody else, right?” he punctuates his question with a rough thrust, his cock reaching a depth that makes stars swim in your vision.

“No, baby, nobody else.”

Grinning savagely, he pounds into you, the sound of his movements inside you pornographic and nigh embarrassing. You’re so ridiculously wet, there’s a squelch every time he pushes in and a gush of arousal every time he pulls out, and both your thighs and his shine with it. Thankfully, you don’t have any thoughts to spare on being embarrassed, your hazy mind too occupied with Mingi and retaining the capacity to breathe.

“There’s no one else for me, too, you know that?” he speeds up, his hips slapping against yours and his head tipping back even as he keeps talking. “I tried, but I just keep coming back to you. Haven’t even dated in- in a year, because your pickups were enough for me, fuck, I’m close.”

A year?!

You didn’t even realize you were nearing that peak but when he shifts one hand down to rub your clit, you’re suddenly right there, teetering on the edge and waiting for him to fall over with you. He battles through the clenching of your walls to hit your g-spot, his aim so precise it’s like he’s got a lock on it, and it’s enough to break you.

“Are you cumming, baby?” he asks desperately, and you find it in yourself to nod even as your orgasm steals your breath, your voice, your ability to think. He wheezes, “Thank fucking God,” and you can feel his cock start jerking and jumping inside you as he fills you up with white, hot cum. The sensation draws out your release, makes each wave hit harder and longer, makes your cunt clench and ripple and undulate around him until he’s shaking and near tears.

“Fuck,” he sighs, pulling a hand from your hip to wipe at the sweat coating his forehead before letting himself slowly fall down and cover your body with his. You catch your breath while he rests, your pussy still pulsing around his softening dick as a combination of your cum starts to seep out.

“Can we take a shower?” you inquire in a small voice, your fingertips digging into his toned shoulders and your legs starting to ache.

“Course, baby,” he breathes, snaking his arms under you and pulling you up into his chest as he gets off of the couch. You didn’t expect him to carry you, scrambling to wrap your legs around his waist, though you know he’d never let you fall. He stops at the entrance of the hallway, unsure of where to go.

Soon enough, he’ll know your apartment as well as you know his, but until then, you direct him, “First on the left,” and hide a grin in his shoulder when he stubs his toe on the doorframe.

AN: posting part two a bit early in honor of mingi’s birthday!! im overjoyed with all the feedback i got on part one and i can’t wait to hear your thoughts on the conclusion!

thank you to @petrichor-mingi for beta reading and thank you to @bbychocolat for the original commission 💖

My Masterlist

scribbling about sexual tension with mingi

just imagining him teasing you for weeks on end. every time you see him at a party or something he seeks you out, teases you and riles you up, only to leave you hanging. and it's clear it's a tease for him too. it's clear from the heated depths of his dark gaze that he wants you just as bad. he just has fun playing with you. murmuring in your ear that you look sexy in your outfit, leaning in close enough for you to smell his cologne, is just as thrilling for him as it is for you.

then one night he gives you a ride him, and the tension btw you both is palpable. it doesn't help that he's in a pinstripe suit with no shirt underneath, sleeves rolled up to show his forearms, everything on full display. and you tell him that you want him, point blank, asking if he wants you too. that's when he pulls over and decides to show you how much he wants you too, kissing you, deeply, letting his tongue slip out and tease your lips. and as electrifying as his kisses are, it's the touch of his hand on your wrist that really supercharges your longing. his touch is surprisingly restrained, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist, waiting for you to lean into his touch. and you do, letting him guide your hand between his legs. slowly, sensually, he guides your hand over the length of his cock, letting you feel how his cock presses against the fabric of his pants, heat pulsing from his arousal, and you gasp as you take in just how big he is

"feel that?" he rasps against your lips, a hint of a smirk lifting the corner of his own, "that's how much i want you. think you can handle me?"

thinking about the way his head tilts back when you start touching him, the rough moan he lets out, and the way he starts fucking grinding into your hand 😳

The Key Keeper

Pairing: royal guard!Mingi x keykeeper!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

"Mingi, you're injured!"

Your eyes widened in horror as the head of the royal guard shielded you from an oncoming arrow, taking the hit in his back. Gritting his teeth, he reassured, "I'm fine. You go first; I'll catch up with you soon."

Panicked tears welling up, you shook your head and protested, "No, how can I leave you behind?!"

He softened at the sight of your tears, realising that your distress hurt him more than the arrow in his back. To assure you, he smirked teasingly, "What's this? Are you worried about me? I thought you hated me."

Clenching your fists, you resisted the urge to hit him, "Stop, this isn't funny! We need to get out of here together!"

Against his better judgement, he cupped your face and pressed his forehead against yours, "Listen to me, you're the royal key keeper, and these keys should be your top priority. Protect them with your life, and I'll protect you with mine," His heart ached as he saw your teary eyes tremble, "I promise I'll be there with you before you know it. Now go."

Left with no choice, you clutched the palace keys tightly and ran as you were told. Your heart broke as you threw one final, painful glance back at Mingi to see him forcing himself back onto his feet.

Everything happened so quickly. Just moments ago, he had approached you at your workstation, clad in full armour.

"Why are you here, Song Mingi? Don't you have better things to guard?" He rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, "In case you missed the memo, word got out that the pirates are heading for the King's blade."

Your eyes widened at the revelation, "The King's blade? Are they out of their goddamned minds? How ambitious can these fools get?"

He sighed, "As much as I agree with you, we don't have time for idle chatter. We need to secure the blade and move it to a safer location. On your feet now, keykeeper."

Shaking your head in disbelief, you hurriedly gathered all the keys that held access to every corner of the palace, following him as you both navigated a secret passageway leading to the King's treasury.

Just for now, you had to set aside your disdain for Mingi. Despite being longtime rivals in your respective roles – him holding the highest position among male palace staff and you, his female counterpart – the urgency of the situation demanded cooperation. While he focused on the palace's security, your responsibility lay in safeguarding all the keys.

You did your best to remain civil, but his incessant commands were testing you, "Could you move a bit more quietly? It's almost as if you're trying to tell the whole world where we are." He hissed, shooting a frustrated glare in your direction.

Suppressing the urge to retaliate physically, you scoffed, well aware that engaging in a physical confrontation would be futile given his status as the strongest guard in the entire palace, "If my presence is such a burden, why not assign someone else to guard me? You could be safeguarding the King himself, but no, here you are..."

He halted suddenly, causing you to collide into his back with a yelp, "Hey! Why'd you—" Your words were cut short as he turned around, casting you an intimidating gaze, "Wishing the general was here with you, huh? Dream on; he's happily married."

Your jaw hung open at his victorious smirk as he continued on his way. Battling the surge of embarrassment, you reminded yourself that your crush on the renowned general was merely a passing infatuation. After all, he was currently deployed in the war zone, accompanied by his devoted wife.

How dare Mingi bring up that old crush? It was just innocent admiration, and you certainly weren't the only one captivated by the formidable military leader.

Before you could reprimand him for his unprofessionalism, the unexpected attack unfolded. It all happened in the blink of an eye; the only memory etched in your mind was him swiftly wrapping a protective arm around you, turning you away just as he jolted from the impact of an arrow piercing his back.

Now, tears streaming down your face, you fought the urge to run back to him. The sight of him being hurt affected you more than you had anticipated. You never knew you would ever be capable of feeling this way for him, considering how you were constantly at each other's throats for as long as you could remember.

He always found a way to get on your nerves, and you couldn't stand the sight of him. So, it bewildered you why your chest now throbbed with worry for him. Perhaps, in the face of his sacrifice, you realised that there was more to your daily banter than met the eye.

If only you knew how much jealousy flowed through the royal guard's veins whenever he thought about your stupid crush on the general, how much he enjoyed watching the fire in your eyes during your endless silly exchanges, and how much it scared him to think about the danger you were in when he found out about the pirates.

Yes, he could have assigned someone else to protect you, but he didn't trust anyone to keep you safe. The mere thought of anything bad happening to you before you were aware of his affection haunted him. He couldn't fathom forgiving himself for such a failure.

When he saw the genuine concern you displayed for him, a glimmer of hope kindled within him. Perhaps, hidden beneath the surface, you felt the same.

Before reaching you, Mingi made sure to eliminate every single trespasser; he would die before allowing any of these imbeciles near you. A sigh of relief escaped him as he recognised that these were merely amateur pirates; the situation might have taken a perilous turn if the notorious pirate king had been involved. Fortunately, the captain wasn't foolish enough to attempt robbing royalty.

"Hey, it's safe now. You're safe."

Springing up from your crouched position, you dropped the keys in your hands without a second thought, rushing to throw your arms around the royal guard's neck as soon as he entered the treasury. He held you close and wondered if you could sense the rapid beating of his heart.

You sobbed miserably against his shoulder, "You idiot, you could've died out there!"

He chuckled, feeling his heart melt at your worry, "Why? Would you miss me if I was gone?" The question left you momentarily silent, prompting you to pull away slightly and face him.

"I..." You blinked rapidly, attempting to change the topic, "H-how's your injury?"

Dismissing your concern, he shook his head, holding you firmly when you tried to check his back, "I told you I'm fine; my armour shielded me. I'm not hit directly."

"But still—"

Cupping your face with both hands, he made you look at him, "Stop pushing me away! I'm in love with you, okay?" Your movements stilled, and he reached to wipe away the tears you shed for him.

Frowning, you protested, "That's a lie... if you were, why'd you annoy me all the time?"

He broke into a smile, "I thought it'd be the only way to get your attention."

You scoffed, "Well, that's just stupid."

He grinned, retorting, "But it worked, didn't it? You can't fool me; I know you care about me too."

Left speechless, you felt your heart race when he leaned closer. Your breath hitched as your noses touched, and he whispered, "I was afraid of losing you."

You nodded in defeat, finally admitting, "Me too, Mingi. Me too."

That was all the confirmation he needed. Without hesitation, he finally kissed you, just as he had wanted to for so long.

While you were engulfed in each other's embrace, some of the royal guards arrived just in time to catch both of you in a flustered state, grinning knowingly. Unbeknownst to you, the entire palace staff had been placing bets on the two of you all along. It appeared that everyone would have a lot to celebrate soon.

✨ Bonus ✨

"You know, you may be the keeper of all palace keys, but I'm the only one with the key to your heart."

"Oh, shut up, Mingi."

Aaaand that's a wrap! Hope the final part's decent! Also, damn, Mingi's been wrecking me lately like what the actual frick. Man definitely knows what he's doing to us.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading every part of this series! Do let me know which member's part is your favourite! Don't be shy, I'd love to hear all about it!🤭

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive

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