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I want to lock pinkies with Mark.

This. 😭🥺💖

[8:34am] # song mingi.

the sun was a bleary pool of light through your drab marble patterned curtains; you’d only bought them because they were discounted with the smallest rip in the corner. mingi laid beside you with a smile on his sleepy face, creepily staring at your serene features as you soaked up the sunlight and warmth cascading in waves from his lumbering figure. his eyes were half lidded, head leaning against his closed fist as you squirmed around.

a loud yawn erupted from your mouth as you awoke; mingi flinching from the random sound. you turned over to his direction and took in his happy features. he looked slightly spooked from the unexpected yawn, but appeared the epitome of ‘cozy boyfriend’. you couldn’t help the lazy smile that immediately broke out on your face, your arms stretching open widely. mingi immediately knew what you wanted, laying his head on your smaller chest and letting your arms enclose around his head.

“good morning angel.” his voice rumbled against your pyjama-clothed chest, his body relaxing as you softly greeted him with loving tiredness in your tone. he giggled at your sleepy voice, annoyingly cooing before he scooted down the bed, grasping the edge of your shirt and lifting. you raised an eyebrow but didn’t question anything, laying limply and silently as you anticipated his next move. mingi placed his plump lips against the skin of your lower tummy before blowing excitedly, deeply laughing as you began squirming and tossing out juvenile profanities. his eyes were merely squinted as you grabbed the hem of your clothing and pulled it down, blowing your own raspberry in his direction.

“one of these days, song, one of these days.” you threatened, baring your fist in his direction with a fake snarl. he squealed playfully and pressed his deft fingers into your sides, triggering your ticklishness purposefully and making you want to hurl him into the streets. you plonked your hand against his red hair and he let go, childish giggles filtering from both of your lips as you desperately inhaled, trying to catch your breath from the abrupt attack.

mornings with mingi were always adorably active, he was surprisingly an early-riser and almost always used his lack of exhaustion against you in the form of strenuous little activities. sometimes they were aggressive yet cute cuddle sessions, other times they were babyish attacks that both melted and made your heart palpitate. “you love me though, right?” mingi bit, pressing his forehead against your own annoyingly. you nodded and yawned again, puckering your lips so they pressed against his that were parallel to your own. it was barely a brush but it had mingi’s cheeks dusted with pink.

“well i love you, baby.” he mumbled in that viciously deep voice of his. the baritone was especially octaves lower considering that he just woke up, red hair pitched up from his obscene sleeping positions. his bare chest was visible, tensing abdominals teasing your vision. you looked forward only to be greeted with the attractive picture of his own mono-lidded orbs trailing down your facial features, appreciating every bump and curve and scar. there was something so piercing about mingi’s gaze that nobody could quite explain; it was sincerely something so anxiety-inducing from the sheer sentimentality shining in his glimmering eyes.

suddenly, his lips were on yours and the world was a haze of blaring light, shining over your tangled figures as your intense lip-lock provoked a longing groan to spill from his pinked mouth. mornings with song mingi truly are something special.