dee

and mingi knows you're obsessive, too. he knows how much you love your little power trip. but god if he couldn't care less. he knows you're constantly playing with his head and his feelings, taking advantage of his obvious obsession with you. but if it means he gets to watch you be possessive over him, he's willing to let it slide.

mingi isn't innocent either, though.

you could be at the club one night with a group of friends (a group of friends that are still trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with you two) and mingi is hyper-aware of the man he sees you talking to. he looks so...normal. so boring. which is why mingi is so confused why you seem like you're enjoying his company? yunho tries to stop him from interrupting, but there's no way to keep him from approaching you.

and when he slides his hands over your lower back, giving your ass a playful squeeze, you lean into his touch. recognizing his hands and his rings immediately. and he smirks at the guys across from you who looks up at him, confused. mingi just simply raises an eyebrow at him and watches as he stutters over his words, desperately trying to keep this conversation going.

it's a lost cause, though. and eventually the guy leaves feeling incredibly dejected. mingi chuckles as he walks away, "that guy? really?" and you shrug, taking a sip of your drink, "i thought he was cute." mingi can't help but laugh at that idea "i didn't know you were in to cute guys, princess."

but, in the end, without any labels, you know he's yours. and mingi knows he's yours, too. because when you're going through a dry spell or when another one of your loser situationships falls through, he knows he'll get a call from you.

a call asking if he's up at two in the morning. a call asking if he can come over and "comfort" you. a call in that whiny pathetic voice you use when you're trying to get something you really want.

and he's at your door not even fifteen minutes later. and there are never any tears. you couldn't give one less fuck about the other boys you keep around from time to time. because, in the end, this is the goal.

to have your mingi in your bed. moaning into your mouth as you kiss him so good. his hands in your hair and under your shirt and playing with the waistband of your shorts as you sit in his lap and let yourself forget about everything but his soft lips over your own.

and you always feel how hard he is while you're in his lap. his dick prodding at your core as you wiggle your hips just to hear him moan. but you don't let him get his dick wet. not yet, anyway.

you let him beg in your ear in his low, hoarse voice, "can i taste you, princess?" and you're always so fucking snarky with your replies. kissing him again, "you are tasting me, mingi" he grunts when you roll your hips "you know what i mean. let me have your pretty pussy, baby. i'll make you feel so good. forget about all those fucking losers you bring in here"

and he'll eat you out for hours. letting you grip at his hair and pull him closer every time he tries to pull away. letting your toes curl into your sheets while his tongue plays with your clit. always having at least one hand playing with your boobs through your little cotton tanktop.

and does it all for that climactic moment when you cry out his name and squeeze your thighs around his head. forcing him to stay buried in your cunt as you cum. over. and over. and over again.

so many times that you're tired by the time he kisses back up your abdomen. nuzzling his face into your neck as you catch your breath. calling you his "pretty girl" when you snuggle up next to him. letting him play with your hair. letting you fall asleep on his chest. letting him believe for just a few hours that you're truly his.