#mingyu fics

A light jingling sound rings out from overhead as you swing the door open, your senses stimulated by the rich scent of freshly-roasted coffee beans hitting you as you step through the threshold. You scan the faces behind the counter, hopeful that Mingyu is working today, but your heart sinks a little when you don't see him. Your shoes tap pleasantly on the vintage black-and-white tile flooring as you head toward the register; there's only one person ahead of you in line — an elderly man who seems to be in the process of digging through his pockets so he can pay in exact change. You stare lazily at the chalkboard menu on the wall — a pointless endeavor, for you already know what you want, but you peruse the familiar beverage list anyway while you wait. The man ahead of you finally located the last couple pennies he needed and shuffles off to find a seat; as you step up you recognize the cashier — it's Marlene, the owner.

"I'll be right back, hon," she tells you with a warm smile as she zips off into the kitchen. You glance down at your phone, aimlessly scrolling through your notifications while you wait for her to return; a figure reappears in your periphery a few moments later, but its stature is far too large to be Marlene.

"I was wondering if you'd stop by today," Mingyu grins at you as you look up at him.

"Well, it's Tuesday afternoon after all," you smile back at him, trying to act casual. But it's hard to act casual around Mingyu, the world's most beautiful human. It's no secret that all the patrons who walk through the door are constantly swooning at him; you can tell he's used to it, but he handles it professionally — maintaining that charming smile and laid-back demeanor while he takes down everyone's orders. You know he's friendly with everybody, and you try so very hard not to delude yourself that the way he looks at you is something special — but you swear this man is always flirting with you. Today is no exception — his dark eyes fixed on you attentively, his grin a little extra toothier than it usually is.

"I know, I know," he chuckles. "But you're later than usual. I was starting to worry you'd run off with some other coffee shop."

"Oh, please," you roll your eyes playfully. "As if I'd ever cheat on The Human Bean. You guys have the best cold brew in the city," you tell him matter-of-factly.

"Don't worry, I know you're my most loyal customer," he replies with a wink, making your stomach do a flip. "Let me guess," he carries on as he quizzically narrows his eyes at you, pretending to read your mind. "A medium cold brew with oat milk and one pump of liquid sugar cane?"

"Wow, you're amazing," you reply with feigned surprise. "Yes, please."

"Perfect, that'll be $4.22."

You cock your head slightly as you tap your credit card on the screen. "Did the price go down?" you ask. Mingyu peers around, making sure no one is in earshot before he replies.

"I'm giving you my employee discount," he whispers as he leans in slightly.

"Oh! Well that's very kind of you," you reply as you try your hardest not to blush like an idiot.

"But you can't tell my boss," he adds with widened eyes. "Or I'll be in big trouble."

You nod understandingly. "It'll be our little secret," you grin at him.

"Perfect," he grins back.

"I was wondering if you'd stop by today."

You raise your brow at Mingyu as you fiddle with closing your uncooperative umbrella. "It's Thursday morning, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah," he nods. "But I thought you might stay home with the storm."

You were thinking about me?? you want to ask, but instead you settle for a shrug.

"You know I can't work without my cold brew."

"That's what I like to hear," he beams proudly at you. "Actually, um, I was wondering if you'd like something a little… different today."

"What, are you out of cold brew?"

"Well, no," he replies. He looks around, but the coffee shop is completely empty except for a headphone-wearing woman in the corner table, typing away furiously at her laptop. "I was just wondering if you'd like something off the, uh, secret menu."

"Oh," you reply, surprised. "I didn't know there was a secret menu."

"Well, technically there's not," he admits sheepishly. "But I'm trying to change that. I've been practicing making new drinks, and I think if I can come up with a few solid ones Marlene might let me make one. Unofficially, of course."

"Ah, so it's the Mingyu Menu," you remark.

"Yeah, I guess so," he chuckles, slightly embarrassed.

"Well, alright then," you say with a shrug. "What's on the Mingyu Menu for today?"

"Oh," he pauses, thinking for a moment. "Well, I didn't actually get that far. I didn't think you'd actually say yes."

You let out a giggle. "So you're just making it up on the fly, then."

"Umm, yeah, kinda," he answers with a shrug.

"Well, surprise me then."

His face lights up. "Okie dokie! One… uh, special drink, coming right up."

Mingyu starts fluttering around the kitchen, preparing the espresso and collecting various sauces and toppings. You watch him while he works; it's not until he notices you watching him, turning over his shoulder to glance back at you, that you realize you're practically making heart eyes at him. Your face grows hot as you turn flustered, but he simply smiles, dark eyes sparkling back at you.

"Here you go," he tells you as he finishes, placing the plastic lid on the cup and handing you the beverage. "For my favorite customer."

You smile, slightly embarrassed, but you take the drink from him. As you grab it, you notice he wrote your name on the cup — neat lettering, written in black sharpie: your name, followed by a heart.

"For what it's worth, you're also my favorite barista," you tell him. The tips of his ears quickly turn crimson.

"So, what in this?" you ask as you grab a straw, unwrapping it and sticking it in the drink.

"It's a cherry pistachio white chocolate mocha," he says proudly. "With oat milk, of course."

You take a sip. The flavors hit your taste buds all at once, making your eyes widen, but not with delight. The drink tastes terrible. You look at it, the sickly greenish-brown beverage now appearing as unappetizing at it tastes. Looking back up at Mingyu, he's staring at you eagerly, waiting for you to say something.

"It's good," you lie. It doesn't come out very convincingly, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Very interesting."

"Awesome! This one's on the house," he says with a satisfied nod.

"Thank you so much," you respond, feigning a smile — grateful you didn't actually have to pay for this abomination of a latte. "Well, I'd better get to work," you say, excusing yourself politely. "Got a lot to do today."

"Good luck with your studies!" he tells you cheerfully.

You take your favorite corner spot, opening up your laptop and pulling up your thesis. You notice Mingyu watching you, trying to be nonchalant, but his eyes keep flashing over to you as he washes dishes and cleans up the counter. You don't really want to finish the awful drink, but you don't want him to feel bad, so you sip it reluctantly as you type away at the keys.

About an hour later, Mingyu saunters over to your table. You're locked into your work, so you don't notice until he's hovering over you, making you jump in your seat slightly.

"Sorry," he says timidly as you pull your earbuds out. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," you say with a laugh. "I just didn't see you there."

"Can I get you a refill?" he asks, nodding his head to the nearly-empty cup that you somehow managed to drink most of.

"Oh, no, that's alright," you say, waving your hand. "I'm actually probably going to head out soon, I think this storm is only going to get worse."

Mingyu looks slightly sulky, but he nods understandingly. "Yeah, it's getting pretty crazy out there." As if on cue, a blinding bolt of lightning flashes through the window, followed by a booming thunder crack. "Please get home safe," he tells you sincerely.

"I will," you assure him as you start to pack up your things. You don't really want to leave yet, but truthfully you'd much rather be cozied up in your own home in this dreadful weather.

"See you later," Mingyu smiles at you softly. He slowly turns, reluctant to go back to work, but he doesn't want to be a bother.

"Mingyu—" you call out before he walks off. He turns back, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Would you wanna hang out sometime?" you ask, blurting it out before you lose the courage to say anything.

"I'd love to!" he responds right away with far too much enthusiasm. Reeling it in a bit, he adds, "I'm off Saturday, if you're free."

"Yeah, that sounds great," you beam at him. You rummage in your bag for a pen, scribbling your phone number on a napkin and handing it to him.

"Awesome," he says with a big cheesy grin. "I'm looking forward to it already."

"How many monkeys do you think you could take in a fight?"

You turn away from the two lemurs you were watching swing through the trees to give Mingyu a strange look.

"What?"

"Like if a bunch of monkeys were attacking you how many do you think you could fend off by yourself?" he elaborates, completely earnestly.

"Um, I don't know. I've never thought about it."

Mingyu had texted you right away after you left The Human Bean on Thursday, asking if you'd want to go to the zoo with him. It had been a while since you'd been, and you were just thrilled to be hanging out with him outside of his work, so you excitedly agreed.

"What kind of monkeys?" you inquire. "Because there's a big difference between a lemur and like, a gorilla or something."

"Any kind," he replies. "I think I could probably take 100."

"Any" you repeat as you raise your brow at him. "You mean to tell me you think you could fight off 100 angry chimpanzees by yourself?"

"I mean, if I had to, probably," he shrugs.

"Mingyu, chimps have literally killed people before. I highly recommend you do not try to fight one, never mind 100."

"Oh," he says blankly. "I didn't know that.

"Yeah, they can get like, really violent sometimes."

"Okay, okay, I promise I won't fight any monkeys," he concedes with a laugh.

You continue through the primates exhibit together, sticking close to Mingyu's side as you amble through the crowd. He gently places his hand upon your back as you both tread carefully through a swarm of rambunctious children, trying not to step on any of them — the sensation of his hand on your body making you feel giddy. When you finally escape the exhibit he lets go, making you just a little bit sad.

"Where to next?" you ask him, pulling out the paper zoo map and opening it up. He leans in to look at it too, the pleasant scent of his cologne washing over you.

"Let's go to the Africa exhibit," he answers, pointing to the large area at the center of the map. "I wanna see the giraffes, they're my favorite."

"Is it because you can see eye-to-eye with them?"

"Hey!" he objects, but he giggles anyway.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just teasing," you grin at him.

"No it's okay," he laughs. "You can tease me as much as you want. I like it."

"Oh, you're into that?" you ask, shooting him a smirk.

"No!! Well, actually— Um, nevermind…" he stammers, eyes growing wide in embarrassment as he registers the words that are coming out of his mouth.

"Come on, dummy," you laugh, wrapping your arm around his elbow. "Let's go see the giraffes."

"I was hoping you'd stop by today."

You smile, trying not to gush at the way Mingyu stares at you from behind the register. The cafe is busy today, so you know you don't have much time to stand here and chat, but you're just happy to see him — and excited that he's also happy to see you.

"Well of course, I'm always here Tuesday afternoons."

"I know, but I was still looking forward to it," he smiles. "The usual today? Or can I interest you in—" he leans in, lowering his voice. "Something special off the Mingyu Menu?"

You hesitate, remembering how awful the custom drink he made you last time was — but maybe he was just having an off day, you tell yourself.

"Something special, please," you answer, hoping you don't regret it.

"One something special, coming right up," he winks at you.

You see your favorite spot is taken, so you settle for one of the tall stools along the window. A few moments later you hear Mingyu's voice calling out your name from behind the counter.

"Today's special: a hazelnut matcha cold brew," he tells you cheerily as you pick up your drink. You smile nervously, because that sounds even worse than the one he made before, but you thank him and hurry back to your seat before he can ask you what you think of it. One sip, and your suspicions are confirmed: it is not good.

Who the hell combines matcha with cold brew?? you think to yourself. But he didn't charge you again, so you reluctantly sip at the bad drink as you edit your thesis.

After a couple hours of work, you're starting to burn out, so decide to head home. The terrible drink is still half full; you peek over to the bar to see if Mingyu is watching, but he's occupied at the espresso machine with his back to you — so you take your chance and toss it in the trash before he sees. You gather your things, hoping you can at least tell him goodbye, but the line is nearly out the door and he appears to be swamped with orders. You manage to catch his eye though as you head out the door; he waves, smiling at you brightly as ever, mouthing I'll text you across the room. You beam at him as you wave back, excited already at the prospect of talking to him later.

True to his word, Mingyu texts you as soon as his shift ends.

Mingyu Kim: Hey! I'm off work now :) I don't know what you're up to tomorrow, but I'm off so I was gonna head down to the beach and catch some waves if you wanted to join! you: I don't know literally anything about surfing haha, but I'd love to come watch! I'm free anytime after noon tomorrow. Mingyu Kim: Perfect! Text me your address, I can pick you up at 12:30 if that works! you: Sounds good!!

"Oh man, the waves look awesome today," he tells you as you arrive at the beach. One hand is occupied carrying his board; the other — holding your hand.

"How long have you been surfing?" you inquire as you stroll across the hot sand.

"Well, I only started learning last year," he admits sheepishly. "So I'm not very good at it. But it's so much fun."

"And that's what matters," you assure him.

"But you can't make fun of me when I inevitably wipe out like an idiot!"

"I won't!" you laugh. "Not too much, anyway."

"Alright, I can live with that."

You sit in the camping chair Mingyu brought for you and watch as he heads into the water. The waves are abundant today, and soon enough a sizeable wall of water comes rushing toward the shore. He paddles into position, hoisting his feet up on the board as the wave reaches him — he squats low, maintaining his balance as he begins to coast across the rolling tide. His tan skin looks incredible in the bright summer sun, his long dark hair flowing in the wind as he rides the wave out successfully. He looks over to you, waving his arm excitedly. You give him a thumbs up; as soon as you do, a second wave suddenly breaks, sending him crashing into the water.

"I'm okay!!" he shouts to you as he resurfaces, clinging to his board as he scrambles to get back onto it — but he moves too fast, and he falls into the water again. You burst out laughing, but as his head pops back up you see he's laughing too, grinning ear to ear as if he's having the time of his life.

"You killed that," you tell Mingyu as he returns to you on the beach about 20 minutes later. He plops down on the striped towel you laid out for him, breathing heavily as large droplets of salt water trickle down his skin.

"Oh, thanks," he chuckles. "I only wiped out four times, honestly not bad for me."

"But you looked really good while doing it," you assure him.

"You're too nice to me," he laughs, running his fingers through his drenched hair to push it back off his forehead.

"It's because I like you."

He looks up at you, face flushed from adrenaline, a big smile creeping onto his face.

"Well that's good news, because I like you too."

Mingyu's lips crash into yours as you stumble into your bedroom together, hands frantically dancing across each others' bodies as you try to make out and walk at the same time. You pull him toward your bed, but he hesitates, stopping in his tracks.

"I don't wanna get any sand in your bed or anything—"

"Who cares, I'm gonna have to change my sheets anyway," you respond, tugging at forearm.

"Oh," he says, grinning excitedly. You plop on the bed, pulling him on top of you; he rolls to your other side, not wanting to squish you, but you immediately roll over on top of him. Straddling his lap, you lean in and kiss him, holding his face in your hands as you make out with him. His fingers snake through your hair, grasping onto your head as he slips his tongue into your mouth, his other hand wrapping around your back and gripping your waist. You grind your hips gently over his lap, feeling the hardening bulge in his swim trunks against your cunt — causing him to whimper softly into your lips.

"You like that?" you breathe into his mouth between kisses.

"Yeah," he exhales, his warm eyes gazing up into yours. You do it again, rubbing against him back and forth — his eyelids flutter shut as his eyes roll back slightly.

"Wow," he whispers, returning to kissing you, tightening his grip on your body as you grind against his cock. Eventually his hands slide to your hips, stilling your movement.

"That's— I'm gonna cum too fast if you keep doing that," he mutters sheepishly. You smirk at him, scooting yourself down to position yourself between his legs. You peel his still slightly damp shorts off of him, his cock springing free as the waistband slips over his hips. You toss the garment to the floor, wrapping your hand around his girth and stroking him slowly as you drag your tongue over his tip.

"Ohhh wow," he groans, petting your head lovingly as you lick up and down his length. You then spit on it, spreading the wetness over his cock — now fully hard, standing tall and thick in your grasp. You slide your fist to his hilt, jerking the base of his cock as you take the head between your lips, sucking as you slide it into your throat.

"Oh fuck," he gasps. You start bobbing your head as you suck him off, making him whine again. "Fuck that feels so good."

You swallow him as far as you can go, squeezing his balls gently as you gag on him, grotesque noises emanating from your throat as you make a show of it. Your lips up slide up and down his length, making him start to squirm beneath you. His hips begin to buck slightly; he tries to contain himself, as not to overwhelm you — but you still your head, gazing up at him, your eyes beg him to fuck your mouth. Your desperation does him in; he begins to thrust his cock into your throat, slowly at first, but his pace soon quickens. He once again grasps onto your hair, firmly holding your head in place as he fucks your face — saliva pooling and dribbling from your lips onto his length and stomach. Tears flood your eyes as he pleasures himself with your mouth, soft pathetic moans escaping him as he grows dangerously close to cumming already.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum soon," he groans, tightening his grip on your hair as his hips jerk into your face. "Can I cum in your mouth, baby?" he begs. You nod eagerly as streams of tears begin to flow down your cheeks — the sight of you enough to send him over the edge.

"Ohhhhmygod," he moans, eyes rolling back into his head as his orgasm overtakes him. Thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, the salty taste filling your mouth as he releases — moaning and whining and whimpering incoherently at the overwhelming surge of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He gives you a few final bursts of cum, his body stilling as his chest rises with deep, heavy breaths.

"Holy shit, that was incredible," he murmurs as he lets go of your hair, his arm plopping onto the mattress. You slowly pull your mouth off of him, releasing his cock from the sweet confines of your throat — making sure to swallow every last drop of his cum.

"Oh my god, wow," he groans as he lifts his head, staring at you adoringly as you grin back at him. "I wanna taste you baby, please." You nod, and his eyes darken lustfully. You hurriedly stand up to remove your shorts and swim bottoms, but he reaches for your top and tugs at it.

"Get rid of this too," he pleads. You oblige, stripping the t-shirt off and the bikini top underneath with it, your breasts falling free. You swear his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

"C'mere," he reaches for your hand, pulling you toward him. "Sit on my face."

You swing your leg over him, positioning yourself over his face; you lower your cunt to his lips, their warmth colliding with your wet core as he immediately gets to work slurping up your juices. His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you into his face as he holds you tight.

"Hey, I don't wanna suffocate you—ahhhh." Your concerns fade away as his tongue begins to work against your clit, swirling tenderly around the bud, making your mind go blank.

"Don't care," he mumbles muffledly into your pussy. His nose bumps into your clit deliciously as his tongue slips into your drenched hole, making a soft moan escape you. The sound is enough to egg him on — he works his tongue in and out of you, fucking you as you gently grind your hips. You squeeze your breasts, holding them in your hands as your thumbs graze over your hardened nipples.

"Fuck that's so hot," he moans, his mouth departing your pussy just long enough to speak. "Keep doing that."

You oblige, and his lips return to your clit, latching on and suckling on it delicately.

"Fuck, ohmygod," you whine. He continues with light pulses, the gentle stimulation quickly driving you crazy. As your moans grow louder he increases the pressure, giving the sensitive bud long, intense bouts of suction. Soon, you're nearly over the edge.

"I'm gonna cum—" you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as the burning heat in your core bursts suddenly through your whole body. The waves of your orgasm make your thighs quiver, your entire being shaking as Mingyu holds you tightly against his face. You grip onto the headboard with all your might, riding out your high as he suckles your clit, making your juices splash all over him as you release. Should have probably warned him about that, but you were a bit too occupied to think of that. He doesn't mind one bit, though — his spent cock twitching against his belly at the delightful surprise.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you stammer as the overstimulation hits you. He slows down, releasing your clit and running his tongue through your folds as he laps up all your delicious cum. You collapse onto the bed beside him, utterly defeated, but in the best way possible. He wraps his large arms around you, pulling you into his torso; you nuzzle your head into the crevice of his shoulder, resting your palm upon his chest.

"That was amazing," he sighs, giving you a tender kiss upon your forehead.

"Yeah, we should do that again sometime," you mumble in a sleepy daze.

"Yes, please," he replies with a huge grin.

"I have to tell you something though," you tell him. His smile drops, suddenly nervous at the seriousness of your tone.

"Oh god, what did I do wrong," he asks anxiously.

"Nothing like that!" you reply quickly. "The sex was great." He lets out a sigh of relief.

"Okay, thank god."

"This is about the special drinks you've been making me."

"What?" he blurts out, genuinely surprised. "What about them?"

"Mingyu, I'm sorry, but they've all been so bad."

He stares at you, confusion spreading across his face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks sulkily.

"Because you were being really nice to me and I didn't want to make you feel bad," you reply apologetically. He starts to giggle, squishing you against him in his arms.

"Damn, there goes my dreams of being the best barista in town," he says lightheartedly.

"Sorry," you repeat sheepishly.

"I'm just kidding," he smiles. "Making coffee is definitely not my passion. I'm just doing this to save some extra money for traveling, after all."

"Oh, nice. Where are you traveling to?"

"Well, I'm not sure. Got any suggestions?"

"I haven't traveled internationally much, if I'm being honest," you admit. "But I've always wanted to go to Iceland."

"Oh! I've never even thought about going to Iceland. What's there?"

"The Northern Lights," you answer. "The geothermal springs, lots of beautiful nature. I've always wanted to go."

"Maybe I'll go to Iceland, then," he replies.

"You should! Then you can tell me all about it."

"Maybe you can just come with me."

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. He worries for a moment that he might be being a little too forward, but his anxiety dissipates when he sees a big grin start to spread across your cheeks.

"Maybe I will," you beam at him. He smiles, leaning in and kissing you softly.

"I think I'd really like that."

taglist: @miniseokminnies @kyeomiis @tinycatharsis @hannieween

It’s 9:05 A.M., and you’re not even close to reaching the office. You just got off the subway and you’re booking it down the street to reach work before your department head launched off into another lecture on how ‘today’s youth is late to everything in life.’

Behind all the cafes, shops, and people on the crowded streets of the commercial hub of the city, the tall, glimmering glass building of Sebong Corp. comes into view. An eager tourist might stop to take a few pictures of the sight, but all you can focus on is entering said building in time for your meeting.

You swiftly avoid bumping into most pedestrians taking a lazy stroll down the street, and only when the doors of the building are in front of you, you let your guard down and reduce your sprint to a brisk walk.

Big mistake.

After you swipe your ID card at the main entrance, thereby triggering the large glass doors to open, you stop in the office lobby to catch your breath. You’re just about to wave at Sunjae, the new receptionist, when all of a sudden, you hear someone curse loudly behind you, and get abruptly pushed forward, and feel a strange wetness on your back. It smells a lot like coffee.

You’re not one for cursing in the workplace. Xu Minghao from HR is slightly terrifying when you see him deal with interns who forget to lower their voice while speaking in language inappropriate for work, and you like to remain in his good books.

Now, however, you feel every drop of that restraint leave you as you shout loudly, for even Minghao’s ancestors to hear, “What the fuck?”

—

“Y/N, I’m sure you know why you’re here,” Minghao sighs, and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying something to worsen your situation. 

“Was it the cursing? Are you going to write me up for it?” You ask innocently, and it’s clear from Minghao’s raised eyebrow that he’s not in the mood to tolerate bullshit.

“Cursing? Do you think that’s what I called you in for?” Minghao asks incredulously. “Y/N, you could go swear in front of the CEO if you’d like, but maybe we should address the fact that you, in the middle of the building’s lobby, deliberately dumped a glass of water on someone’s head?”

“What kind of idiot isn’t careful while carrying four cups of hot coffee?” You retort. “Only someone who lacks any sort of hand-eye coordination, which even toddlers possess, could be so foolish as to—”

The door to Minghao’s office swinging open interrupts your rant, and in walks a six foot tall man, with his shoulders so drawn up with tension that it makes his frame look broader than it already is. His hair is damp with the water you dumped on him, and his face is scrunched up, as if being in this situation physically hurts him, and that makes you laugh, considering that you were the one that just had hot coffee poured on your back.

“You’re Kim Mingyu, yes?” Minghao asks, and the man, Mingyu, nods, not daring to make eye contact. “Mingyu, please, have a seat.” Minghao says, gesturing towards the chair placed next to you.

Mingyu sits down next to you, positioning himself so close to the edge of the seat it makes it look like he’s preparing to sprint out of the room at any given moment. That’s when you notice a brown paper bag clutched in his hands. 

“Mingyu, this is Jung Y/N, Sebong Corp.’s IT Specialist,” Minghao introduces you, and Mingyu hesitantly turns to the side to face you.

“Hi,” He gulps nervously. “I’m Kim Mingyu, the new intern at the—”

“Look, Kim Minju or whatever,” You cut him off. “If there’s one thing I hate, it’s having my time wasted, and that’s exactly what you’ve done. You could have a million reasons to explain the fact that you spilled coffee all over me, but I don’t care for a single one, because I have other important things to do. So please,” You turn to Minghao as you finish your sentence. “Don’t bother with any apologies or introductions. If HR needs me to compensate in any way for my behaviour, please let me know via email.”

Mingyu stares as you push your chair back and stand up to leave the room. He looks at Minghao, wondering if the man had anything to say, but he just sighs as your heels click against the floor when you walk out.

“I hope you didn’t mind the way she spoke,” Minghao asks, sounding almost sympathetic.

“I think she hates me, and I haven’t even started working here,” Mingyu winces.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Minghao shakes his head. “She really just doesn’t care enough to. Y/N’s one of the best employees here because of her no-nonsense attitude, so don’t think it’s personal. If you do have any complaints though, you can always let me know.”

“Yes, of course,” Mingyu nods, and Minghao smiles.

“That’s all, then,” Minghao says. “You can head up to your department now. I’ve asked another colleague to make sure you get settled in comfortably.”

“Thank you, Mr. Xu,” Mingyu bows after getting up from his seat.

“Please, we’re the same age,” Minghao laughs. “Just call me Minghao.”

“Got it, Minghao,” Mingyu chuckles, turning to leave the room, when Minghao speaks again. “Mingyu, remember to not take anything Y/N said personally, okay? She’s nicer when you get to know her, so don’t be disheartened. She’s probably already forgotten about the whole thing, so don’t think too much into it, yeah?” 

Mingyu nods and then leaves the room, but he can’t help but remember the way you left the office, with your shoulders hunched. Your posture looked uncomfortable, and Mingyu deduces that it must have been that way because of his own mistake. He glances down at the paper bag in his hands, and makes a decision.

“You can do this, Mingyu,” He encourages himself, before heading for the elevators. Once he’s inside, he presses the button for the 5th floor, two floors above his own department. When he gets off on the floor, he asks the nearest person where the IT offices are. After being directed, he quickly makes his way to your office. Minghao’s colleague will have to wait for a while.

“Ms. Jung! Trying out new fashion?” Jaemin, the new intern in your department, calls out when you enter the break-room. The already droopy shoulders of the blazer you’re wearing seem to weigh down on you even more at his comment.

“Uh, yes…?” You reply, shooting him an awkward smile and immediately heading for the coffee machine afterwards.

“I’m all for the oversized clothes trend,” Jaemin goes on, stirring his ‘death juice’ that contains a concerning number of espresso shots. “Baggy jeans? Whoever brought them back is a genius. But, isn’t your blazer a little too big on you?”

You’re glad your back is facing Jaemin, because you’re sure he’d sniff you out within seconds if he saw your terrible acting. “I ordered it online, and I got the wrong size, so….”

“Ah, the mishaps of online shopping,” Jaemin tuts, shaking his head. “What about that new cologne you’re wearing? Is it another online purchase?”

Your eyes widen when you realize that the clothes you have on are sprayed with a cologne completely different from the one you wear on a regular basis. You curse your bad luck before schooling your expression into a more calm one before turning to face Jaemin.

“Jaemin, I understand that I asked you to submit a report to me before lunch,” You say, hoping your voice didn’t shake too much. “How is it coming along?”

It’s Jaemin’s turn to look flustered as he hastily grabs his coffee. “It’s going great! You are definitely going to see it on your desk before lunch! Have a great day, boss.” With that, Jaemin is running out of the break-room, and you heave a sigh of relief.

“God, I wish this stupid day was over already,” You mutter, tugging at the sleeves of the blazer that completely engulfs you in it. You do, however, take the time to appreciate the soft material of the blazer, and the admittedly soothing fragrance of the musky cologne emanating from the fabric.

It smells all too familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why it does.

“Kim Mingyu, I’m going to kill you.”

. . . . .

A knock on the door of your office makes you pause in the middle of taking your coffee-stained blazer off. You grit your teeth at the uncomfortable sensation of your wet clothes sticking to your back as you put the blazer back on and call out, “Come in.”

You had expected one of the new interns to be walking into your office with yet another complaint about their employee IDs not working, but surprisingly, it’s Kim Mingyu who walks in, looking like a kicked puppy with his sad expression.

“Uh, hi,” He says, closing the door behind him and keeping at least a six-feet distance between himself and your desk.

“Hi,” You reply, and the conversation falls flat. After an awkward minute of Mingyu making eye contact with every object in the room and you trying (and failing) to maintain a neutral expression on your face, you break. “Did you need something?”

That’s when it strikes you—Minghao did mention that Mingyu was a new intern. Was he possibly in your department?

“Wait, are you my new intern?” You ask, unable to keep the mild terror out of your voice as you break the question.

“What? No, I’m joining the Social Media department,” Mingyu shakes his head vigorously, and you sigh with relief. “I just—I wanted to give you something.”

Before you could even ask what he needed to give you, Mingyu hesitantly shuffles forward and places a brown bag on your desk, which you recognize as the one he was holding in Minghao’s office earlier.

You scoff. Over the last six years of working at Sebong Corp., you’ve been hit on multiple times. There have been many hopeful interns and ex-employees who have tried to shoot their shot, but you’ve always shut their advances down. Now, a man who doesn’t even know you and has soaked you in coffee, has the audacity to flirt with you?

“Look, Mingyu, I’m flattered,” You chuckle, your tone lacking any mirth. “But I’m not interested in you that way, and I think it’s way too early to—”

“It’s just dry clothes,” Mingyu cuts you off, and you wonder why he didn’t do it before you made a fool out of yourself. “I had an extra set of clothes with me, and I noticed that you looked uncomfortable, so I got you these. If there’s any other way I can help you out, please just let me know.”

You’re too mortified to even give him any kind of reply, and Mingyu seizes the opportunity to slip out of your office, saving you from any further embarrassment.

“I’m such an idiot,” You mutter to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose. The combined shame from your hasty conclusion and the growing stickiness on your back makes you give in and open the paper bag in front of you.

Inside, there’s a neatly pressed blazer and a white formal shirt, which makes you nearly leap with joy. Without wasting a second, you head for the bathrooms to change into the fresh clothes.

It’s only after you exit the bathroom stall that you see how idiotic you look in a blazer and shirt three times your size. You had failed to consider that Mingyu’s frame is much bigger than yours, which meant that his clothes would look comically large on you.

Still, there’s no denying the comfort of wearing dry, clean clothes, so you decide to ignore all the possible consequences of wearing clothes that clearly aren’t your size all around the office and exit the bathroom.

You just hope no one asks you about it.

. . . . .

“I wasn’t expecting the new intern to be this cute,” The new voice makes Mingyu look up from his laptop to see someone unfamiliar. He’s spent a week at Sebong Corp. already, but he’s yet to meet the head of his own department, who was apparently on a week-long break in Bali.

Once he takes in the stranger in front of him, and the orange lanyard that hangs around her neck, he’s quick to realize that his boss was finally back from break.

“Good Morning, Ms. Shin,” Mingyu says, standing up from his seat to bow deeply. “I’m Kim Mingyu, the new intern.”

“Yes, Jaemin has told me all about you,” Ms. Shin smiles, stretching her hand out, which Mingyu gingerly shakes. “It’s time this department gets some fresh ideas, and I was impressed by your work. How about I have my assistant set up a quick briefing for the team and you can introduce your ideas to us?”

“Yes, of course, ma’am,” Mingyu agrees instantly. Ms. Shin gives him another dazzling smile before walking away to her office, leaving Mingyu buzzing with excitement at his desk. The company he used to work at previously had never given him much room to experiment with their social media pages, having preferred a more traditional and conservative approach to publicity. The lack of creative liberty had thrown Mingyu into a slump, which is when he came across Sebong Corp. 

They were relatively a new name in the entertainment industry, and upon further research, Mingyu found out that the company was run by people who wanted to hire fresh faces and young, creative minds. Without any hesitation, Mingyu quit his old job the day he received an interview call from Sebong Corp.

The chance to share his ideas with people willing to execute them excited Mingyu to no end, which is why he doesn’t waste any more time before preparing a presentation for the briefing.

“Our promotions with Actor Hansol Vernon Chwe are starting soon, so I centered most of my suggestions around Mr. Chwe himself.” 

“I think that’s a great idea, Mingyu,” Ms. Shin nods, gesturing for Mingyu to continue.

“Okay, so I did my research, and Mr. Chwe’s fans love him for how unintentionally funny he is,” Mingyu starts. “When he appears on variety shows, his delayed reactions, blank expressions, and comedic timing is what makes him attractive to most people.” He flips through viral tweets and clips about Vernon’s unique personality to enhance his statement.

“To make sure our promotions really reach our target audience, we need to emphasize on humor and comedy. Short-form content, like Tiktoks and Reels are also much more likely to grab attention from more viewers, so that should be our main focus. To make the content more relatable, we should also try to incorporate elements from current trends, even for our own company’s promotions.”

There’s silence in the room after Mingyu finishes his presentation, and there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach. Did I go too far? Do they hate me now? Maybe I should have gone a little more traditional—

“Kim Mingyu, you are exactly what this department was missing,” Ms. Shin interrupts his internal monologue. “I think this is perfect, and the team would be more than happy to implement your suggestions as soon as possible.”

“Wait, really?” Mingyu asks, surprised that his ideas were received so openly.

“Yeah! I think I can come up with some really good scripts for videos,” Yena, the team’s writer speaks up. “And Donghyuck is really good at editing videos and making them funny.”

“You should see the video we made for Ms. Shin on her birthday last year,” Donghyuck boasts, smiling smugly. “But yes, I agree with everyone else. This is new and fresh, and our audience will love it.”

“That’s that, then,” Ms. Shin claps her hands together. “Mingyu, lets take this week to develop on your ideas a bit more, and—”

The door of the conference room swinging open abruptly cuts Ms. Shin’s sentence short. Mingyu wants the ground to swallow him whole when he sees you walk in, brown paper bag clutched in your hand.

“Kim Mingyu, here are your clothes, which I never asked for, washed and dry-cleaned,” You say, thrusting the bag into his hands, when you realize that you just interrupted a meeting. Your mouth falls open when you see most of the Social Media department seated in the room, looking at Mingyu and you with utmost interest.

“I knew it! The clothes weren’t yours!” Jaemin speaks up from the back, and you squint your eyes at the mop of platinum blonde hair peeking out from behind Donghyuck.

“Jaemin, why are you here?” You ask, crossing your arms. “Have you forgotten which department you’re in?”

“Here for purely IT-related concerns,” Jaemin shakes his head. “No one here could get the projector to work, so I had to help out.”

You sigh when you don’t find any appropriate response to give Jaemin, which makes you finally realize that the Social Media department, combined with Jaemin, are the most effective channel of communication in the office. 

Two years ago, when an ex-employee had spilled ramen all over Ms. Shin’s laptop and was spotted by Donghyuck, the entire office knew about it within 2 hours of the incident occurring. The thought of everyone finding out that the new intern was now lending you clothes made your head hurt, and you don’t waste a second before apologizing for the interruption and exiting the room immediately, heading up to your office to grieve the loss of your privacy.

Back in the meeting room, everyone files out soon after your exit, muttering to each other about everything that had happened. Donghyuck and Jaemin are the last ones to leave, and they walk up to Mingyu with twin smiles of mischief glinting on their faces.

“Say, Mingyu, you’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” Jaemin asks, and Mingyu blushes out of what he hopes is embarrassment.

“There’s nothing to it,” He denies. “I lent her my extra clothes because I spilled coffee on her because it’s the least I could do. I didn’t expect her to actually wear them.”

“I gotta say, the blazer looked nice on her,” Donghyuck adds on. “Maybe you should let her borrow from your wardrobe more often.”

Before Mingyu can even respond, the two men wink at him in sync and leave him alone in the meeting room, heart fluttering at the thought of you wearing his clothes.

Get a grip on yourself, Mingyu, he tells himself, trying to shake the strange feeling off him. It’s too soon for you to catch feelings for someone who probably hates your guts.

He doesn’t think that warning himself is effective, not when his heart never listens to him before falling for anyone.

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"god, is this the episode where yang leaves seattle?" he hops into bed; to be specific — on top of you, while you're on your belly re-watching grey's anatomy.

"i can't breathe gyu," you choke out as you feel yourself deflating into the mattress the longer your giant puppy of a boyfriend is perched on your back.

he rolls off to the side, sending you accusatory comments that you've just called him fat and that you don't love him anymore. to which you giggle and roll your eyes.

"dramatic much? sometimes you're like a fully grown dog who still thinks they're a puppy. you're not a lap dog gyu,"

he props his elbow up, turns to his side as his head leans on his hand — "nope, i refuse. i am your lap puppy,"

you get distracted once again by mingyu and the way his chest muscles tense and the way his abs contract while giggling.

"baby, why are you acting as if it's the first time you've seen me shirtless," mingyu smirks as he noticed how spaced out you've become, with your eyes darting around frantically his frame.

"are you ovulating?"

you snap out of it and smack him lightly on his chest.

"ow, i'm just asking.. based on my calendar and memory though, it does seem like it's about time,"

you drag a sigh out, fingers drawing out random figures on his abs.

"just amazed. how do you look exactly like all your pictorials — especially the calvin klein ones,"

mingyu giggles, little canines poking out while getting shy, "well, just giving you more bragging rights to all your friends baby,"

"yeah, cause it's all mine right? only i get to see and touch you for myself," you boldly brush your hands all over your boyfriends body, silently claiming the man as yours and only yours.

mingyu grabs your wrist halfway and pulls you in closer, "yeah baby, all yours to touch and play with, wanna see what else these muscles of mine can do?"

you giggle and nod as you look at your boyfriend through your lashes, the sultry atmosphere of the room seeping in.

he lies flat on his back and has you sat right on top of hips.

"remove your pants for me baby, and don't forget your panties too,"

you cock your head to the side, not sure what your boyfriend has up his sleeve but you abide by his instructions nonetheless. wiggling out of your night shorts and panties, you prop yourself up, straddled on your boyfriend's hips again.

"sit on my abs baby," you move up closer, bare cunt in contact with his defined muscles. he twitches the moment he feels your cunt already seeping juices onto his stomach.

"good girl, now make yourself cum with my abs," he crosses his arms behind his head, completely relaxed as he watches you intently; with a small smirk on that smug face of his.

"gotta mark your territory right baby? come on, you're not going anywhere til you've came on my abs,"

your cheeks radiate a certain tint of red as you feel both your cunt and and face getting warmer. you steady your thighs, before starting to move up and down the hard and textured abdominal muscles of your boyfriend.

"that's it, fuck baby you're fucking drenched," he peeks at his stomach, only to find his muscles glistening with all your juices.

you whimper, feeling encouraged by mingyu and his filthy words towards you. you were determined to paint every crevice of his muscles in your juices, your cum.

"f-feels good gyu," you balance yourself by grabbing onto his chest, allowing yourself to grind down on his abs with more pressure and at a quicker pace.

"yeah baby? you're doing so well, so desperate to cum for me aren't you," he groans and you feel his hard on start to poke at you from behind through his boxers.

you nod so fervently, feeling the pressure and ball constrict in your lower abdomen, like a tightening coil that's threatening to break loose any moment soon.

"i'm so close gyu — fuck, please please," your voice starts to crack as you feel yourself inching closer and closer towards that euphoric moment.

he reaches a hand towards you, creeping underneath your nightie to tug at your nipples. he plays with the soft fat around, before focusing on playing with your perked up and sensitive nipples.

"come on baby, give it to me — need to feel you cum all over me,"

"that's it baby i can tell you're right there, cum for me,"

with a few more encouragements from mingyu, you feel the knot start to unravel as you jerk uncontrollably on top of your boyfriend, breaking out in a string of moans that crescendoed, and shouting out your boyfriends name in cries.

you feel your boyfriend tense up under you, "so good - fuck baby, fuuuuuckkk" you feel a warm sensation through the stretch of his boxers.

as you came down from your high, you realised that you made your boyfriend come untouched.

"gyu did you...?"

"fuck...yeah baby... couldn't help it. you looked so fucking hot getting off like that right on top of me i-"

"shh shh" you smile, heart beaming with pride before leaning down on his chest.

—

ᯓᡣ𐭩 S.COUPS - LOSING HIM WAS BLUE

RED - taylor swift

It was a Wednesday night when you finally decided to release the song you’d been working on for months. "C'mon, it’s not that deep. He probably won’t even see it," you muttered to yourself. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case. The song in question was about your ex—the same ex you dated for two long years without ever going public about it.

Yes, you’ve been broken up for a few months now, and yes, you haven’t seen him since. It’s not that you ended on bad terms. And it’s not as if you were avoiding him (even though you were). It’s just that you’ve been so busy with your job, and so has he—which is very true.

That was the reason you both decided to end things anyway. It was the peak of your careers and a crucial time for both of you. He was on tour, and you were creating new songs every other day—most of them about him, but no one knows since your upcoming album hasn't been released yet.

Sitting on your comfy sofa, which has felt emptier these past few months, you realized just how much you actually missed him.

Your finger hovered over the 'post now' button, hesitating as you contemplated releasing the song onto your SoundCloud. You hadn't told your agency or manager about this song, so you might get in trouble for it, but YOLO, right? You pressed it, closed your computer, and shut your eyes as you lay in silence.

A part of you hoped he never hears the song, but another part of you yearned for him to. You wanted something to happen when he listened—something, anything at all. You never truly wanted to break up, but your careers got in the way, or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. Juggling work and your relationship was incredibly difficult, and breaking up seemed like the best option at that time. But you were wrong—very wrong. These past few months without Seungcheol have been harder than any other breakup you've experienced. Seeing him only on your screen is torture. Not being able to hold him, call him, or even text him simple messages like "Congratulations on your new album" or "How has your day been?" was something you never imagined you'd have to endure.

Suddenly, notifications started blowing up your phone.

"Gojo’s left toe? Seungcheol’s cake? Thanos' kidney stones?" You chuckled, shaking your head in bewilderment. Sometimes, you just couldn't wrap your mind around fans and their humor. You kept scrolling, reading their wild theories and debating over who this “mystery” person could be. You wondered if he had seen the post yet. It had only been 30 minutes, but Seungcheol had an uncanny knack for knowing things too quickly. You sighed as a yawn escaped your lips and mused, probably just a bunch of insomniac fans like me. Before you knew it, you had slipped into a deep, exhausted slumber.

You were jolted awake by your phone blaring in your ear. It was 7 a.m., and your manager had already called twice. “Did you sleepwalk out of your house without realizing it? Did you drink and accidentally post a drunk photo? What did you do?” Your manager never called this early unless it was extremely urgent.

You answered the call groggily. “Were you drunk last night?” your manager questioned. Were you? You didn’t think so. “Why am I getting notifications from different apps tagging you in posts about a new song? You didn't think to tell me about it first?”

“I just thought it was about time I released that song,” you said slowly, carefully considering your next words.

“Is the company angry about this?” you inquired.

“Thankfully not. You're lucky the song is performing exceptionally well. Is it about who I think it is?” The question was posed hesitantly.

She knew about your relationship and the breakup. Your manager was like your best friend; you could confide in her about anything, and she in you.

“Yeah,” was all you could muster.

“Well, keep up the good work and remember to prepare for your upcoming album,” she reminded you as she ended the call.

You knew she wanted to say more, but she also knew you—the you that cried almost every night after the breakup, listening to heart-wrenching sad songs during nearly every waking minute.

You decided to check the status of your impromptu single. Opening up your SoundCloud and seeing the number of views made your heart race. You were fully awake now. The number 1 million was plastered on your screen. None of the songs you had released on SoundCloud had ever reached 1 million views overnight—how was this possible? This was an incredible way to start your day.

You had planned to sleep in, as you had nothing scheduled, but after the 7 a.m. wake-up call from your manager and the overwhelming response from fans, you were wide awake. “Might as well get ready,” you thought to yourself as you got up to take a shower and freshen up.

Pulling on one of your many black oversized hoodies, you decided to head to a nearby cafe that had recently opened. They were promoting a butter latte as their top seller, and you wanted to give it a try. Not forgetting to put on a mask, you walked to the little cafe while listening to some of your favorite Spotify hits.

It was a Thursday morning, so it wasn’t crowded, but there were still people queuing for their morning coffee before heading to their mundane office jobs. While waiting for your coffee, a tall, well-built man suddenly bumped into you, nearly spilling his coffee on you. You’d say it was a normal occurrence until the words “Are you okay?” slipped out of his mouth.

That voice. You’d recognize it anywhere. You looked up to see a man checking to see if any of his coffee had spilled on you when he stilled. He was wearing a mask, but you could still recognize him. A man whose eyes you knew so well, and he knew you too. Your eyes widened, still looking into his, too shocked to say anything. “ORDER FOR Y/N” broke you out of your trance. You took your coffee and thanked the waiter. You made eye contact with the man for a split second before practically running out of the cafe.

“Y/N.” That deep baritone voice, the one you knew you couldn’t avoid now.

“Seungcheol.” you stated, looking into his deep brown eyes you loved so much.

“We’ve gotta talk, don’t you think?” he asked, searching your eyes, seeking a flicker of agreement, a silent confirmation that matched his thoughts. There was no turning back now.

“Yeah, we should.” you agreed. “We could go back to my place.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded, releasing his grip from your wrist. The spot where his hand had been remained warm, the lingering heat a silent testament to the intensity of his touch.

Walking home was awkward, to say the least. No words were exchanged, only the soft tap tap tap of your footsteps as you both walked the familiar route to your home.

It was only when you sat down on the sofa and tapped the seat next to you that he spoke his first words in eight minutes.

“It’s been a long few months without you, Y/N,” Seungcheol started. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so you let him continue. “I really thought that going our separate ways was the best option for both of us. And I know you felt the same. So when you agreed to the breakup, I felt there wasn’t any issue. Until a few days later when I realized it was wrong. Wrong that you were gone, and wrong that I couldn’t talk to you as freely as I did. It felt like a part of me was missing, and it was driving me mad. But seeing you perform and release your music kept me going. I thought you were fine, seeing you on the billboards. I thought you were, until last night, when you uploaded that song on your SoundCloud.” He was looking at you now. “Fans were going crazy, and when I heard it for the first time, I couldn’t stop listening to it. Because now I know that you still feel the same, like I do.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, emotions flooding your body. Shock? Happiness? Everything came crashing all at once. You kept yourself from bawling, wiping away the tears that fell as you looked at him. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Seungcheol. These few months have been nothing but difficult without having you to talk to. You were someone who took my stress away, and trying to forget you was like trying to know someone I’ve never met.” You and Seungcheol made silent eye contact before you continued. “Cheol…” You were surprised how easily the nickname slipped out. “These few months taught me that you’re my home and that you’re the someone I want to spend my life with.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do, ‘cause I don’t see myself spending my life with anybody else. I love you, Cherry.” You smiled at the nickname. You always loved it when he called you Cherry.

“I love you, too, Cheol.”

ᯓᡣ𐭩 WONWOO - ALWAYS GONNA WANT YOU BACK

WANT YOU BACK - 5 seconds of summer wish you the best - lewis capaldi

It's been 2 months, 18 days, and 9 hours since you last spoke to Wonwoo.

It's also been 2 months, 18 days, and 9 hours since you decided to end your relationship with him.

And during that tim, you had been questioning whether you did the right thing.

It was 1 a.m., and you were lying in bed, eyes red and swollen from crying—just like every other night since Wonwoo walked out of your apartment. The pain of losing not just your boyfriend of two years but also your best friend since childhood had left you hollow. You had locked yourself away, the weight of regret pressing down on you like an anchor.

Music had always been your refuge, and in the aftermath of your breakup, it became your lifeline. You wrote, composed, and poured your emotions into lyrics, leaving behind a trail of unfinished melodies. Sixty-four drafts, only two completed songs—both about him. Both scheduled for release within the week.

Your manager had urged you to do interviews or at least update your social media, but you couldn’t bear the thought of facing the world. You compromised, convincing her that releasing the singles was enough. The songs would speak for you in ways you couldn’t.

The world never knew about your relationship with Wonwoo. Fans speculated, but neither of you ever confirmed anything. Only your close friends and family knew, and even they were in the dark about the breakup. You weren’t sure if Wonwoo had told anyone, but you hadn’t—not because you wanted to keep it secret, but because admitting it aloud made it real. It made it final. And a part of you weren’t ready to admit that yet.

Your fans never knew you and Wonwoo dated. Sure, there were speculations, but they weren't ever that serious. They knew that the both of you were childhood friends, as you both have mentioned it a few times in interviews or just casually. A few of your friends your parents and your managers knew, but you didn't tell them that you broke up. You're not sure if Wonwoo told them, but you didn't want to say it as you felt as if you were disappointing them for some reason, considering how close your parents and Wonwoo's parents were.

As the release date of your songs approached, you couldn't help but feel nervous. You had told your manager that you didn't want to do any promotions for this release, as it meant so much to you and you wanted the reaction from the fans to be genuine. These songs weren’t just music—they were pieces of your soul. You had never released anything this raw, this personal. Would people understand? Would he?

On the eve of the release, you found yourself in the studio. You weren't sure what compelled you to finally step out of the house, but something about that day drove you there. It had been a few months since you released new music, and this was different from your usual style. The quiet hum of the empty space a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind.

You played the songs one last time, each lyric cutting deep, each note a reminder of what you had lost. By the time the final melody faded, tears blurred your vision, but for the first time in months, you felt lighter. Maybe this was what closure felt like.

The next morning, as the songs officially went live on streaming platforms, you decided to post a heartfelt message on your Instagram. With a steady deep breath, you wrote:

“These songs are a part of me, a reflection of my journey over the past few months. I hope they resonate with you as deeply as they do with me. Thank you for being a part of this journey.”

As you hit 'post,' you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. For the first time in months, you were finally able to breathe freely. The outpouring of love and support from your fans was immediate and overwhelming, reaffirming your decision to share your music in the most authentic way possible.

The response was overwhelming. Within five hours, the singles had amassed three million streams. Fans flooded your comments with love and support, their words a soothing balm to your raw emotions. Still, one question haunted you—had Wonwoo listened?

Just as you were about to turn off your phone, it buzzed. Your mother’s name lit up the screen.

“Y/N-ah! Finally, you answer! I was so worried about you! Were you ever going to call?”

“Sorry, Mom…” Your voice was hoarse from lack of sleep, from crying too much, from feeling too much.

“You’re coming home for dinner tomorrow,” she declared, leaving no room for argument. “No excuses.”

Knowing your mother, there was no way out of this. With a sigh, you agreed.

Later that evening, you packed a bag and took the KTX home, the rhythmic hum of the train doing little to calm your nerves. The familiar streets of your neighborhood passed in a blur, memories of a younger, happier you flashing in your mind. Home felt distant, yet painfully close.

As you stepped through the front door, the scent of home-cooked food greeted you. Your mother’s warm embrace followed.

“Welcome home, Y/N dear,” she whispered. “We’ve missed you.”

Your father gave you a small smile from behind his newspaper, his quiet presence grounding you. For the first time in months, you felt warm and safe.

As you walked up the stairs and into your bedroom, memories of your childhood flooded back. You recalled the countless hours spent playing games with Wonwoo in this very room, inventing imaginary worlds where the rules didn't matter. It was the time spent together that truly counted, and the thought brought a smile to your face.

But the peace was short-lived.

You were unpacking your bags when you heard the door open downstairs. Was someone visiting? You heard a flurry of muffled greetings and shuffling before your mom yelled, “Y/N, come down! Dinner’s ready—and we have guests!” Guests? You thought this dinner was just for family. Did Mom invite relatives over without telling you again?

Then came the words that sent your heart plummeting.

“Hurry! Don’t keep Wonwoo waiting!”

You froze.

You must have misheard her. Wonwoo? Here?

But when you reached the dining room, there he was.

Jeon Wonwoo, standing in your family’s living room, his parents chatting animatedly with yours. He looked up, eyes meeting yours for the first time in months. Time seemed to freeze.

Your mother beamed. “Come greet Auntie and Uncle Jeon!”

You forced a smile, heart hammering in your chest. You greeted his parents politely, exchanging small talk that felt excruciatingly forced, before taking your seats at the (very cramped) dinner table. Your leg brushed against Wonwoo’s under the table and with each accidental touch, sending your nerves into overdrive.

“So, Y/N! How have you been?” his mother asked, her warm eyes filled with concern.

You mustered another smile. “I’ve been good, Auntie. Busy with work.”

“They’re overworking you, aren’t they? You’ve gotten so thin!”

“Mom—” Wonwoo interrupted, his voice sharp but laced with concern.

“It’s okay,” you reassured her. “Comes with the job, I guess.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Have you seen Wonwoo recently? He always talks about how much he misses you.”

Your breath hitched. You glanced at Wonwoo. His face turned beet red.

“Mom!” he hissed, clearly embarrassed.

If only she knew the truth.

“Alright, alright. Let them eat. They haven’t been back in such a long time, let them rest. I’m sure they’re tired.” You knew you could always count on Uncle Jeon to save awkward situations.

That night, as you settled into your childhood bedroom, your phone buzzed.

I glanced at the clock. 1:00 AM.

Who would be texting me at this hour?

my phone, and my breath caught when I saw the name on the screen.

Wonwoo.

[nu]: Hey, I’m sorry about today. What my mom said. I haven’t told her about us, and I take it you haven’t told your mom either?

I stared at his name, a ghost from a past I thought I had buried. After the breakup, I never changed his contact name—some part of me couldn’t. Did he change mine?

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard before typing:

[you]: Yeah… the topic never really came up. what are you doing up so late?

[nu]: Can’t sleep. You?

[you]: Can’t sleep either.

A pause. Then—

[nu]: i know this might seem out of the blue, but… do you remember our secret place? the one on the hill?

Your heart clenched. Of course, you remembered.

[you]: Yeah. What about it?

His reply came almost instantly.

[nu]: Would you like to join me?

What?

Then, as if my body had a mind of its own, you grabbed your coat and slipped outside. You found yourself walking the familiar path to your secret hideout. The place where we could be ourselves. Where we whispered our dreams, shared our fears, and believed that nothing else mattered.

The night air was cool against your skin as you made your way up the hill, the path one you had walked countless times before.

The ten-minute walk was quiet, the night breeze threading through your hair, the stillness wrapping around you like a long-lost friend. You wished you could do this in Seoul, just wander aimlessly, but that was impossible now. Being a celebrity meant always being watched.

Climbing up the little hill, the outline of Wonwoo’s back came into view. Wonwoo. There was a time when his name slipped from my lips so easily, but now, you couldn't even bring myself to say it aloud. Without a word, you sat beside him, letting your gaze drift to the sky. The stars were endless tonight, each one burning bright, unbothered by time or distance.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Wonwoo’s deep voice broke the silence.

"Yeah," you murmured, eyes never leaving the view. "The same as it’s always been."

Silence settled between the two of you again, but with Wonwoo, it never felt awkward. There was still that unspoken understanding, the quiet comfort of familiarity.

Then, his voice came softer this time. "Can I tell you something, Y/N?"

You nodded.

"I miss you. I’ve missed you since the moment I walked out of your apartment that day." He exhaled, as if finally letting go of something heavy. "I know this is out of the blue, but leaving your parents' place today… it didn’t feel right. Not when we weren’t talking."

You understood what he meant. His family had always been a welcomed visitor, and yet, for the first time, there was this unfamiliar distance between you—a gap that neither of you had tried to close.

I swallowed, gathering the courage that had evaded me for months. This is it.

"I miss you too, Nu."

The words felt heavy, yet freeing. You met his gaze, voice soft yet steady. "It hasn’t been easy without you," You admitted. "These past few months, I thought I was doing the right thing—taking time to reflect, to grow, to be better. But the truth is… you were helping me do that all along. Letting you go was supposed to make me stronger, but instead, I lost a part of myself. My confidence isn’t what it was. I’m not as outgoing anymore. I tried to convince myself it was for the best, but now… I’m not so sure.”

Wonwoo was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, his voice came, steady and familiar. "I heard the songs you wrote." His lips curled slightly at the corners. "They were amazing, Y/N. You’re doing well. You can’t let anyone—including yourself—say you’re not."

Something warmed within you at his words. He always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better.

You turned to face him fully, heart pounding. "Nu, I know I said I make bad decisions, but my life hasn’t been the same without you. And if I don’t ask this now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

A deep breath.

"Wonwoo, would you give me a second chance?"

The world seemed to still as he looked away, his gaze lifting toward the sky before settling back on me. Every second of silence chipped away at your confidence. Was I too late?

Then, he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You always overthink things, Y/N."

You frowned. "What’s that supposed to—"

Before you could finish, he reached for your hand, his touch warm and familiar. "Of course, I’ll give us another chance." His voice was steady, sure. "I never wanted to lose you in the first place."

Relief crashed over you so fast it nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. You squeezed his hand, a slow smile breaking across my lips.

For the first time in months, everything felt right again.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 MINGYU - BUT YOU'RE STILL A TRAITOR

traitor - olivia rodrigo that's not how this works - charlie puth

“Y/N! Y/N! How are you feeling about the release of your upcoming album?”

“Y/N! Look here! Look here!”

Reporters swarmed the path to your car as you stepped out of your company’s building. Your new album was set to be released tomorrow, and you were finishing up the last of the paperwork. Flashes from multiple cameras and phones made it difficult to walk back to your car. Your bodyguards were doing their best, but the crowd was out of control.

“Y/N! How’s your relationship with Seventeen’s Mingyu?”

Right…Mingyu. The two of you had gone public a year ago after dating for a few months. The status of your relationship had always been private, so when you mutually agreed to break up - 3 weeks, 4 days, and 7 hours ago to be exact, but who’s counting? - you decided not to tell the fans. The emotions were overwhelming, and you didn’t think it was a good idea to inform the fans. The things they might say, the things they might do—you didn’t think you could handle it.

Mingyu and you were still on good terms, or so you thought. You weren't exactly sure. It was still awkward when you saw him at events, and definitely awkward when you texted each other congratulations on each other’s successes. You were trying to stay friends, considering that's how you started. You thought the breakup was better for both of you. Busy with your careers, rarely seeing each other, and working with other people, it was inevitable that the light between you would slowly fade. And you thought it was really over when you saw rumors that Mingyu was dating another actress just a week ago.

Seeing that article, you couldn't help but feel like he was playing you. You weren't even dating anymore. He was free to do whatever he wanted. So why did it hurt more than the breakup itself? You knew the texts he sent didn't mean much, but it was relieving to see that he still wanted to talk after the breakup. Emotions filled you up, and you found yourself cooped up inside the studio, writing down all your feelings. Five days later, you added two new songs to your album, dedicated to whatshisname. You knew that the moment your album was released, everyone would be talking about those songs. But writing them was the only thing that helped you get through the tough days.

“Miss Y/N? This way, please,” your bodyguard said, pulling you from your thoughts. You followed, ignoring the paparazzi still shouting for photos and answers.

“Sorry about that, Y/N. I don’t know how they found out you were at the studio today,” your manager apologized. Paparazzi rarely showed up at the company for you. It wasn't that you weren’t famous, but they usually left you alone, which you were extremely grateful for.

“So, how are you feeling about tomorrow’s release?” your manager asked. He knew what you were going through and had supported you. He even helped you express your feelings in your new songs.

“Feeling nervous for sure. Will they like it?”

“Of course they will. Everyone you showed this album to loved it. What’s not to like? Even 'He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named' will be impressed. It's what he deserves.”

You just nodded, hoping that was true. Despite everything you said about him, deep down you knew it wasn't really true, and you missed him. You missed him so much. Even after writing (and exaggerating) about what happened between you two, you'd still run back to him if he just called your name.

“It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor”

It was a few hours before the release of your album, and you were listening to the tracks again. The lyrics might have been an exaggeration of what actually happened, but they captured how you felt at the time. This song was the crowd favorite when you shared the album.

“Y/N, are you ready? Cameras are going to roll soon,” your manager asked. You were scheduled for an interview and a reaction video for the MV premiere.

“AND…ROLLING!” the director called as he clapped the slate. “Welcome… the rising soloist Y/N!” the interviewer introduced you.

You walked into the room, shook her hand, and took your seat.

“Wow, it's been a while since I've seen you! How have you been, Y/N?” the interviewer asked.

“I've been great, thank you! Extremely busy, but glad to be back!” you replied.

“Well, let's cut to the chase. Your new album is releasing in, what, 40 minutes? How are you feeling?”

“Super nervous,” you chuckled. “I hope my fans love this album as much as I do. It's quite different from what I usually put out, so hopefully it's to everyone’s liking! But no matter what happens, I'm really proud of this album and will continue to do my best,” you said, smiling into the camera.

“I've had the privilege of a sneak peek, and I have to say, your fans are definitely going to love it. Now, a little birdy told us you included a couple of love songs in the album as well?” the interviewer asked, catching you off guard.

“Hmm, who told you?” you laughed. “Yes, I did. Hopefully, it reaches the right audience, but it is dedicated to someone out there,” you replied. It was your first time admitting out loud that the songs were dedicated to a specific someone, and it felt a little unreal.

After finishing up the interview, there was still some time before the MV reaction. You decided to post a few pictures from the interview on Twitter. Gotta always give the fans what they want, right?

The next time you checked your phone was after the MV premiere, which was a huge success. There were millions of views within the first hour! You were surprised to see the traction your post got too. It seemed like people were enjoying the album so far, already speculating and discussing the songs.

You were scrolling through the comments when a notification caught your eye. The handle seemed familiar. Kimtato? You clicked on the profile and saw they had posted and reposted content of your songs as well as pictures from your interview. Then it clicked. This was Mingyu’s fake Twitter account he used back when you were still dating. You thought he had changed accounts, but apparently not. You had forgotten about it since he wasn’t active on Twitter anyway. But now, he seemed pretty active on this account. Did he mean to post this? Or did he forget you're still following this account? A million thoughts flooded your mind as you stared blankly at your phone. He must have forgotten you're following this account because why else would he suddenly post this?

A ding from your phone indicated a notification. It was from Mingyu.

Days later, at the MAMAs, the venue buzzed with excitement and anticipation. As you prepared backstage, you couldn't shake the thought of seeing Mingyu. You’d been purposefully avoiding him and the band the entire time you were there. The memories, the texts, everything rushed back. You were afraid it would be weird finally seeing him in person after so long. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself to stay focused on your performance.

After a thrilling performance of your new title track, you received an unexpected request from the event organiser: a photoshoot with various artists, including Mingyu. Your heart raced, but you agreed, knowing it was part of the job.

As you walked toward the photoshoot area, you spotted him looking as handsome as ever in a Dior suit that glittered under the lights. He looked just as surprised to see you. You both exchanged awkward smiles before the photographer directed you into position.

"Alright, everyone! Smile!" the photographer called out.

After a few group shots, the photographer suggested pairing up artists for some photos. You and Mingyu were inevitably paired together. As you stood beside him, the tension was palpable. The photographer snapped away while you and Mingyu maintained polite smiles.

Once the session ended, you found yourselves standing alone in a quiet corner. Mingyu broke the silence first.

"I didn't expect this," he admitted with a nervous chuckle.

"Neither did I," you replied, your shoes suddenly very interesting to look at.

"I wanted to talk to you, though. About everything," he continued.

You nodded, feeling the weight of unspoken words. "It was a lot to process for both of us.”

"I'm sorry," Mingyu apologized. "The actress from the rumors... she's my cousin. It was all just a misunderstanding.”

A sense of relief washed over you. "I guess I jumped to conclusions," you chuckled.

"We both did," he admitted. "I guess we assumed that we didn’t want this relationship anymore. But I want you to know, I never stopped caring about you. I'm sorry I didn't try hard enough to fight for our relationship. I'll definitely do better this time.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity. "I missed you, Gyu. These past few weeks, I wondered if our actions were right. With you, everything fell into place. I'm sorry too, for not fighting for what we had. We'll do better. We're in this together.”

"I missed you too," he confessed. "I missed us talking without awkwardness. Missed your surprise visits. I care about you. So much. So, if you’d like to continue our relationship, I’d gladly take your hand and ride this journey with you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you smiled. "I'd like that. But let's take it slow this time. No rushing, no secrets.”

Mingyu nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Agreed. One step at a time.” He said, pulling you into a warm hug.

Silence enveloped you both, when he suddenly started laughing. You furrowed your brows and asked, "What's wrong?"

“Nothing much, just that I’m a traitor, huh?” he laughed.

“I didn’t know what to think! And in any case, people love the song so its a win-win!” you defended.

He pulled you into a bear hug once more. “I promise it won’t happen again,” he said, smiling into your hair.

You couldn't help but laugh with him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. In that moment, you knew that together, you could face whatever came your way, one step at a time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 VERNON - ARE YOU THINKIN' 'BOUT ME?

thinkin' 'bout me - morgan wallen my heart i surrender - i prevail

You first met Vernon at a café almost 2 years ago. Your mutual friend had been raving about a new place that had just opened, swearing up and down that they served the best matcha latte in town. And as much as you loved your matcha lattes, you weren’t exactly eager to leave the comfort of your bed, especially on your rare day off. You declined at least a dozen times, but your friend was relentless, and eventually, you caved, dragging yourself out the door with minimal enthusiasm.

That was how you found yourself standing in line, scanning the menu even though you already knew what you wanted. Your friend had mentioned that someone else would be joining, but they didn’t say who. So, when they casually dropped Vernon’s name, your heart skipped a beat. That Vernon? The one whose face was plastered across billboards, the one whose music had been a quiet source of inspiration for you?

Going into full panic mode, you were whisper-screaming at your friend for not telling you sooner — if you’d known, you would’ve at least thrown on some concealer, maybe a bit of lip gloss, anything to avoid looking like a sleep-deprived zombie. “You’ll be fine,” your friend had reassured you when they saw the hesitation written all over your face. “He’s super chill. He likes meeting new people.”

Safe to say, you weren’t convinced. What if you made a terrible first impression? What if you had nothing to say? The thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you ordered your drink, the hum of café chatter filling the space around you.

Then, the door chimed.

Vernon walked in like he wasn’t him, like he didn’t command attention just by breathing the same air as everyone else. He wore just a loose hoodie and a mask covering most of his face, and even then you recognized him immediately. He had a presence that was hard to miss — effortlessly cool, but not in a way that felt intimidating. It somehow made you feel at ease.

Your friend waved him over, completely unaffected that he is THE Vernon, while your brain short-circuited.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and effortless as he reached your table, eyes flicking to yours for just a second too long. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries,” your friend said easily. “This is the one I told you about, Y/N”

What you hadn’t expected was how natural the conversation felt once the introductions were out of the way. Vernon was easy to talk to, effortlessly bridging the gap between new acquaintances and something more. You discovered shared interests, bonding over the same bands and binge-worthy shows. He wasn’t just the artist you admired from afar — he was someone you genuinely clicked with.

And for the first time that day, you were glad your friend had dragged you out of bed.

It had been almost a year since that first unexpected meeting with Vernon. What started as a casual exchange of Instagrams that day quickly turned into late-night conversations and inside jokes. Within days, you'd swapped numbers.

The more you got to know him — not just the artist, but the person behind the lyrics and the public image — the more your feelings grew. He was thoughtful in ways that surprised you, gentle in the quietest moments, and genuinely interested in your world, no matter how different it seemed from his. One night, beneath the glow of a city both of you called home, you finally admitted what had been building between you.

Dating Vernon felt surreal at first, like you'd stepped into a parallel version of your life where anything was possible. But even in the middle of that magic, reality pressed in. His schedule was demanding — endless rehearsals, flights, press. And yours, though quieter, was no less intense. You were finally on tour yourself, a dream you’d worked toward for years. The venues were smaller than his, the crowds more intimate, but it mattered just as much to you. You were giving it everything.

At first, you made it work. You called when you could. Visited when time allowed. Sent voice notes in place of “good morning” texts and photos from hotel windows instead of dates. But slowly, inevitably, time and distance began to take their toll. You saw each other less and less, not because the feelings faded, but because life simply wouldn’t slow down.

Eventually, with heavy hearts and more understanding than anger, you both agreed to let go. It wasn’t dramatic. There were no raised voices or slammed doors. Just the quiet heartbreak of two people who still cared deeply but couldn’t hold each other the way they wanted to.

And still, even after it ended, there was something about that year that stayed with you.

A few months after your breakup, you were due to release something new for your fans.

“Are you sure you don’t want to add these to the album?” your friend asked, eyeing you over the console. You had a few songs tucked away in the vault — ones you’d written after your relationship ended. At first, you didn’t want them on the album. They felt too raw, too personal. But after listening back, your friend was convinced they belonged.

“Or at least include them on the deluxe version,” they urged. “People need to hear this, Y/N.”

Little did you know what they really meant.

It was finally the day of the release of your album. You spent the morning doing press, interacting with fans, and joining the live countdown in the afternoon. You’d braced yourself for nerves, but instead, you were overwhelmed by the love pouring in. The album was doing better than you expected — charting high, trending everywhere. And just when things had started to settle, you decided to drop the deluxe edition at midnight quietly, without announcement.

You thought it would be a small surprise, something intimate for your core fans. But within hours, word had spread like wildfire. Social media exploded with reactions to the added tracks — the ones you almost kept hidden. And to your surprise, those songs were the ones people clung to the most.

Somehow, the parts you’d feared were too vulnerable had become the ones that resonated the loudest.

You almost didn’t release the songs. The excuse you gave yourself was that you didn’t want people knowing your true emotions, that some feelings were better kept private. But deep down, you knew the real reason.

You were afraid of his reaction. Or worse, his lack of one.

It had been a few days since your album dropped, and the buzz still hadn’t died down. The numbers were climbing, the messages were pouring in, but none from the person you were secretly waiting for.

You found yourself checking your phone constantly. Sometimes without even realizing it. There were moments you caught yourself mid-reach, forcing your hand back down before you could check the screen for the umpteenth time. After all, you were broken up. There was no need for him to text you about your feelings. It was stupid —you were broken up. There was no reason for him to text you about your feelings. A small part of you still hoped for at least a “congratulations.” Even some of the other members had reached out.

“Maybe he hasn’t had the chance to listen yet.” ”Maybe he’s still thinking of what to say.”

But his silence said otherwise.

And somehow, that hurt more than the breakup itself. Because now, the truth was unavoidable — there wasn’t going to be a second chance. Not this time.

Letting that reality sink in, you found yourself heading to the café — the same one where you first met him. Maybe you just wanted to feel close to that moment again, to revisit the beginning before finally letting it all go. If he could move on, then maybe you could, too.

The nostalgia hit you the moment you stepped through the doors. The soft hum of chatter, the warm lighting, the familiar decorations that hadn’t changed much since that day — it all came rushing back.

You walked up to the counter, eyes scanning the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order. The café’s signature drink. The one you had the first time. The one he had, too.

With the cup in hand, you chose a quiet table by the window and sat down, letting the memories settle around you like dust in the sunlight.

Cup in hand, you chose a quiet table by the window and sat down, letting the memories settle around you like dust in the sunlight.

You wrapped your hands around the cup, the scent of matcha bringing back a version of yourself that felt impossibly far away. For a moment, you just let yourself sit in the memory and the silence.

You were so lost in thought, you almost didn’t hear the door chime in front you.

But something made you glance up.

And there he was.

Vernon.

He stepped inside like it was any other day, like he hadn’t unknowingly haunted your songs, your thoughts, your quietest nights. He looked almost exactly the same — hoodie pulled over his head, mask covering most of his face, hands in his pockets and the same unreadable expression he wore when he was trying not to let his thoughts show too much.

Your heart froze. And so did you.

He hadn’t seen you yet. His eyes were scanning the menu casually, just like he did back then, completely unaware that the past was sitting a few feet away, watching him like a ghost.

You debated it — whether to look away or whether to gather your things and slip out quietly before this turned into something harder. But before you could make a move, his gaze lifted.

And your eyes met.

For a second, neither of you moved. Just stared at each other and blinked.

A flicker of something passed across his face. Surprise? Hesitation? Maybe even recognition of the same ache you’d been carrying.

And slowly, with careful steps, he made his way over to your table.

“Hey.” His voice was low, familiar, almost too warm. You blinked, taking him in.

“Hey,” you echoed, lifting a small, awkward wave. You really hadn’t expected to run into him today.

Silence settled between you. You stared down at your cup; he stood there, unmoving.

Eventually, he pulled out the chair and sat, eyes never leaving you.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said carefully.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his again. “Me neither.”

Another pause.

“You come here often?” you asked, grasping for something — anything — to ease the weight in the air.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Brings back memories.”

You glanced around. It did. More than you wanted to admit.

“Hey, congrats on the album. I’ve been wanting to say that. But when you released the deluxe version… I thought I should take some time to figure out what I wanted to say.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just nodded, fingers tightening around your cup.

He exhaled softly, eyes dropping to the table before lifting back to you. “What you said in those songs… did you mean them?”

Your breath caught. You stared at him, stunned he’d ask something so direct.

“Of course,” you said quietly. “I thought it was obvious.”

He swallowed, jaw tensing for a moment. “Just wanted to make sure,” he murmured. “Because I feel the same way.”

Your eyes snapped up to his.

“What?”

“I thought breaking up was the only way,” he began, voice low, steady but trembling at the edges. “We were busy, we barely saw each other, and every day felt harder than the last. I thought ending things would take the pressure off both of us.” He shook his head. “But I was wrong. Not having you there… that was worse than any of it.”

You felt your chest tighten.

“Not being able to talk to you, to tell you how my day went, not seeing you smile.” He let out a sigh. “It hurt more than seeing you through a screen. Every poster, every performance — it just reminded me that I couldn’t reach out to you. What I thought was best for us just turned into a burden I carried every day.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He continued.

“I hoped that after the breakup, we’d both feel freer. We’d focus on our careers, and… if fate wanted, maybe our paths would cross again.” His eyes softened. “But those days… They were the hardest. You were the person who helped me through everything. The exhaustion, the late practices, the doubts. And I’m sorry it took me so long to realise that.”

A small sigh escaped you. “It was hard for me too,” you said. “Knowing I shouldn’t call or text you anymore. But I kept thinking… maybe it was wrong to give up without trying harder.” Your throat tightened. “I missed talking to you. Late-night conversations, lying under the stars when it felt like the world didn’t exist. Just us.”

Your eyes blurred, tears engulfing your vision.

He reached across the table and gently took your hand, his touch warm and familiar, grounding you.

“I miss you,” he said softly. “So much.” He inhaled deeply, as if steadying himself. “I never thought I’d care for someone this much. And I can’t imagine my life without you in it — even if it meant just being friends.” His thumb brushed your knuckles. “But… I don’t want ‘just friends.’”

His gaze met yours, earnest and full of hope.

“Are you willing to give me another chance to let me be a better boyfriend this time?”

You squeezed his hand back.

“I can’t imagine my life without you either. I want to make things work this time. No pulling back.”

The two of you smiled at each other, knowing that whatever whatever challenges cam next, you wouldn’t run from them this time. You’d face them together, no matter how tough, no matter how exhausting.

For the first time in months, the future didn’t feel frightening.

It felt possible.

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

His heart beats in his chest at the sight of your cherry lips, still wet from the drink. He doesn’t think he’s seen you wearing this lip color before, recounting all the times you came to hangouts wearing anything else than lip balm. The color suits you though, he thinks.

Unconsciously, his eyes wander to your cup before landing on the white plastic rim, the red trace of your lip gloss making him shudder.

The glint in your eyes is mischievous when he makes eye contact with you again. He sees you looking him up and down and he has to yell at his own mind when certain thoughts enter his head. He can sense how you fill up with pride at the sight of him wearing the watch you just gifted him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“You’re already wearing it?” your body turns to him a bit and he leans down even more at the same time, faces centimeters away from each other. He lifts his hand up with a grin, pushing his shirt sleeves up his arms even more when he notices you eyeing them.

This time, you smile so big Mingyu almost awes at the sight. You force yourself to stop smiling and look away but your happiness can be heard through your slightly playful voice. “The others wouldn’t be happy to hear that, y’know?”

Mingyu wiggles his fingers and flexes his arm, making you giggle and uncross your arms in the process. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s my favorite gift.”

He tilts his head to the side, ruffling his styled hair with his ring-clad hands. Mingyu isn’t much of a ring-wearer but when he does, it fills your stomach with butterflies– not that that doesn’t happen on a daily basis.

“Who said the others have to know?” His stare makes you feel weak, knees almost buckling under you. You lean back on the wall for support, something he definitely catches up onto with the way he smirks. “Let’s say this is our little secret, yeah?”

You blush when you realize he’s, again, wearing the rings you gifted him months prior for secret santa.

Mingyu turns to lean against the wall with his back, facing the crowd as he lets himself drown into the loud music and the warmth your body radiates, shoulders touching. Your friend crouches down a bit, legs stretching on the ground and head close to your neck. With a sigh, he plops his head on your shoulder, turning to hide against you. He grabs your hips and holds his arm around your waist, audibly whining against your neck.

You nod silently, picking at the rim of your cup. From how close the two of you are, Mingyu can count your lashes, admire your face and the way your lips curl into a smile when you see your friends having fun on the other side of the room.

His breath tickles your skin and you realize mingyu’s just as tipsy as you are.

“You know what Hoshi told me?” he starts off, voice small and softer than usual. You guess he’s a bit tired from partying all night. It’s only a few seconds later that you look at him, smiling and humming when he silently waits for an answer. “He said you had a second gift for me.”

The man, who’s supposed to be 6.1ft tall, seems to shrink even more at your question, pouting and eyebrows furrowing. He glares at you before his eyes turn soft, hugging your body from the side. “You know I didn’t mean it like that~” His voice is slurry and you laugh at him, patting his head and passing your fingers through his hair.

Ah Hoshi, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t go around spilling secrets and creating drama. You avert your eyes, suddenly finding the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt very interesting. “Is the watch not enough for you? ‘didn’t know you would be so greedy, gyu.”

You nod again, fixing a few strands of hair on top of his head. “I like your hair like this.”

“Yeah? You think I’m handsome?”

Mingyu abruptly gets up, rolling his shoulders back to stand up straighter. He lets out a mix between a gasp and a chuckle before turning towards a mirror near where you’re leaning against the wall. He passes his hand through his hair, going over the spots you didn't touch and paying extra attention to not mess up the ones you previously styled as he smiles. Suddenly, his tone turns confident as he examines himself in the glass, winking and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt.

You try your best to keep a straight face but the alcohol in your system makes it a difficult task. “Of course, you’re always handsome.”

Mingyu seems to light up at your words, a big smile on his face as he returns to where you are, choosing to lean against the wall on your other side. You know he’s up to something with the way he looks at you but you don’t question it– he’s mainly harmless so you have nothing to worry about.

To Mingyu's surprise, you don’t deny it. 

He taps his pointer finger on his chin, pursing his lips and giggling, “Could it be that you’re flirting with me?”

He swears he can see a teasing look in your eyes before it quickly disappears, making him gulp. He can’t even question you about it more before you’re intertwining your fingers together, holding his hand close and walking away from the wall. Mingyu feels like a puppy following his owner, tail wagging and tongue lolling out as he watches you drag him to the other room, discarding your empty cup on a random counter.

With a loud sigh, you plop down next to the armrest, dragging Mingyu down with you, squishing his big body between Hoshi and you. He looks at you and pouts as you let your head fall back on the couch, closing your eyes for a few seconds as the loud music resonates off the walls. 

When the two of you enter the living room, you’re not even surprised to see some of your friends gate-keeping the couches, seemingly playing a drinking game. Hoshi is one of the drunker ones and you walk past him to get to the bigger couch, ruffling his hair as he stares with empty eyes at a framed photo hung up on the wall. He’s still out of it so you quickly scratch the underside of his chin with your nails and he perks up, immediately scooting over to give you and Mingyu some space on the couch.

You feel Mingyu’s hand resting on your forearm, slowly dragging up and down as he intensely watches goosebumps rise up on your arm. When Hoshi seems to get dragged into a conversation between Joshua and Seungkwan, voices fill the room and you joyfully listen, letting Mingyu take your hand in his. 

His skin feels soft against yours and his thumb draws circles on the back of your hand. You turn towards him, leaning further against the armrest as he smiles at you. He’s cute you think, he’s always been cute. 

And then Mingyu brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand delicately and smiling into the sweet kiss.

His eyes sparkle, the party lights making him shine. His hair is ruffled from the many hugs he received from his friends and his cheeks are rosy from the alcohol.

Suddenly, it feels like you two are the only ones there, like there aren’t dozens of partygoers stumbling around Mingyu’s apartment. It’s weird, how you stare at each other in absolute delight, ignoring everyone around you as if Seungcheol wasn’t calling out both your names for a game of truth or dare.

It’s Mingyu who first snaps out of it, having been elbowed in the ribs by Hoshi next to him. He grumbles in pain but lifts himself off the couch anyways, extending his hand out to you and winking at you. You laugh and place your hand in his, his warmth sending shivers over your spine. 

Mingyu hoists you up from the couch and immediately wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you so close to him that your free hand lands on his chest. He tilts his head slightly and comes closer, mouth inches away from your ear. 

“I’m happy you came. Thank you.”

Mingyu pulls back with a slight blush on his cheeks, the tip of his ears read. A shy smile covers his lips and for a moment you’re not sure if you’re able to speak. You shallow and find your vocabulary again, thoughts racing in your mind. 

When you speak up, eyes locked into his, Mingyu thinks he could pass out from the sugary sweet tone in your voice. 

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

With a silent nod of his head in the direction of the hallway towards his friends, you put your hand in his again and lead the way, zigzagging between guests. 

—

“So, you really made out with that girl during summer camp? There’s no way that’s true.”

Laughter fills the room as you once again find yourself in the living room with Mingyu and his closest friends. At first, you had all followed one of the guys to the kitchen for a game of truth or dare until one of the partygoers threw up right on the stark white kitchen tiles, pausing the game and consequently pushing the group back to the sacred couches. 

Jun yells at Dino, hitting the latter on the shoulder and downing his drink. The younger one cackles, teasing Jun more for his confession. “Shut up, dickhead. I’m not saying anything else, just know that she was the one who initiated it.” 

His answer doesn’t convince Dino in the slightest and he just continues to laugh, falling backwards on the beanbag he’s currently occupying.

Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the joyful sound bringing a smile to your lips. You’re sitting right next to him again, but this time with your back to the armrest, one leg dangling off the couch and the other one blocked under the latter. Your heel digs into the skin of your thigh and unfortunately for you, it’s starting to feel like you have pins and needles in your legs.

You openly wince at the prickly sensation and squirm around, trying to release your hurt leg as you support yourself on the armrest, your feet on the floor slipping. Even with all the laughter and noise in the room– and Hoshi’s sudden barking, Mingyu notices and turns to you with worried eyes. You’re pouting without knowing it and he finds it hard to stare away from your lips, forcing himself to help instead.

What you didn’t expect however, was for him to pull your legs over his, in his lap, after you sat back down. You can feel your face heating up and you’re sure that your ears are full on red at this point. Mingyu knows the effect his action had on you, smirking while pretending like he’s absorbed by the current conversation– or more so an argument between Seungkwan and Dino about who used to have the best math grades in high school.

A gentle hand places itself on the side of your knee, helping you lift your leg as he guides you up with his other hand on your waist, respectfully and only after your nod of affirmation.

The boy continues to act like nothing is going on, seeming calm while his heart beats loudly in his chest. There is so much going on, the music resonating off the walls and friendly banter in the background, but Mingyu’s only focus is on the way your breath hitches when he hoists one of your legs up in his lap. He grabs onto your ankle, near the strap of your high heel and your leg soon joins the other one in his lap.

Mingyu’s being careful with his movements, unsure if he’s crossing a boundary or not– unsure if he just ruined one of his best friendships just because his heart couldn’t keep itself in check. But then you grin, eyes sparkling wide and radiant as you look at his hand on your ankle.

It’s a silent game of back and forth– Mingyu’s looking at you to see your reaction and you avoid his gaze, knowingly, to stare at his pretty hand running up and down your calf. Mingyu knows you would have said something if you disapproved of his action but he’s still feeling like a high school boy with a crush on someone for the first time, worrying about every small thing.

On the other hand, you are glowing, happiness and excitement radiating off you. You feel weird, butterflies erupting in your stomach as if you weren’t already aware of how much Mingyu could affect you– how he could make you fall in love with him over and over again.

Actually, if he thinks about it, he is a boy with a crush on someone– you, just not as a high school boy anymore since he graduated long ago.

You snap out of your little bubble, again, and for once you are grateful for Joshua. Because you’re almost hundred percent sure Mingyu was starting to trace hearts on your thigh. And you certainly didn’t know how much longer you could survive his constant flirting.

When your eyes lock, there’s a look and nod of agreement between you. And then his hand is on your upper thigh, thumb brushing circles on your skin.

“Truth or dare! Yn and Mingyu, you two are playing this round!”

Even with the guys’ screaming in the background, you hold eye contact with him for a little bit longer, just in time to see his eyebrows relax and his gaze soften before you’re diverting your eyes. 

“Isn’t truth or dare something you play in middle school?” You tease your friends, trying to lift yourself off the couch to sit up straighter so that other people can join and use the couch. Before you can do so and pull your legs off Mingyu’s lap, he stops you with a hand on your knee, looking at you with furrowed brows.

“Cmon Yn, truth or dare is a classic. Even us oldies have to play it once in a while!” Dino exclaims, unaware of the sudden tension rising from your couch.

A loud slap is heard before Dino winces, turning around to face the culprit as Scoups menacingly points at him, “Ya! Who are you calling old!” They continue to argue for a bit, with Dino calling the oldest, well, old and Scoups pushing the youngest off the beanbag and on the floor.

Normally, you would have paid more attention to it, the friendly banter bringing you much joy, but this time your mind is focused on something else.

If Mingyu tried to talk to you right now, you would barely be able to hear it over the loud music, but he doesn’t talk to you, his gaze tells you enough. “Don’t” is what you understand he’s trying to say and you let out a deep breath. He’s still staring at you, hand still on your knee and his eyes seem to be pleading you to stay.

At that moment, you realize you could probably never say no to Mingyu.

So you set your legs back down in his lap, readjusting your dress so that you don’t flash everybody. When Mingyu realizes you decided to stay, he sends you a big smile, teeth on display. And when he smiles at you like that, you would trade every couch in the damn world to see it a bit longer. You don’t even care anymore about the other party goers who might have wanted to join the game, Mingyu and you clearly taking up the whole couch, with a drunk Dk squished to Mingyu’s right side.

“Hey lovebirds! We said you two are playing, pay attention instead of staring at each other!” 

The game in itself isn’t that bothersome– your friends are mainly having fun, bickering and throwing each other under the bus when it comes to revealing not so important secrets. It’s pretty entertaining to watch and you take pleasure in it, but you can’t concentrate fully on Jeonghan’s story about how he saw his high school math teacher and science teacher, both married with kids, making out together in the science lab ten years prior. And all that because of the eyes boring into the side of your head. 

You huff when you still feel his eyes on you after Woozi downed his drink, poking Mingyu in the ribs. A quiet yelp leaves his mouth and you smirk, triumphantly, crossing your arms proudly, chin high. 

That is until Minghao turns towards you, pinky lifting from his glass and pointing your way. “Yn, truth or dare?” 

Your cheeks grow hot, being caught off guard as you sink into the armrest of the couch. You take a moment to think. You know Minghao isn’t the type to completely humiliate you if you decided to choose dare, he’s actually rather laidback with you, but you also remember accidentally spilling his last cup of his favorite tea right on his lap when you all went to visit his new apartment a week prior. And since Minghao’s pretty protective of his tea, you’d prefer to avoid walking right into the cage of a wild and unpredictable animal. 

And as the red-haired boy looks at you, waiting for your answer with a slight smirk on his face, you’re sure you made the right choice. 

“Truth. I don’t want to leave this place covered in a mix of glitter and cereal or something.” 

Truth it is. And could Truth possibly do even any harm?

Minghao hums, taking a last sip of his drink before finally speaking up. “Wise choice. Or not. Yn, of all the people in this room, who’s the guy you’re crushing on?” 

Okay, so apparently Truth can do a lot of harm. 

Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open in sock as everyone turns to look at you, some whispering between themselves and some even giggling. 

You definitely did not think this through enough. 

Mighao tilts his head a bit and you don’t waste a second more before you’re reaching forward to grab your shot glass off the table, “Pass”. In your haste, you forget that you’re basically sitting sideways on the couch and that you don’t have any support under you as you move your upper body off the couch, eventually losing balance and falling forward. 

But before you can hit the coffee table with full force, an arm snakes around your waist, holding you up and bringing you back on the couch. Mingyu’s hand is holding onto your hip firmly, his fingers dipping into the fabric of your dress. 

There’s a sudden silence as your friends look from you to Mingyu, then back to you. You turn your head towards your ‘savior’ and directly make eye-contact, the close position and the strong scent of his cologne making you dizzy. 

Your face heats up, again, and you quickly grab your glass from the table, downing it and returning to your seat, hands clasped tightly together. Minghao eyes the now empty shot glass and chuckles, “Hiding something?” 

You glare at him, “It’s one question only, Minghao.” You forgot sometimes how infuriatingly teasing he can be. 

The next round of truth and dare goes more smoothly, nobody’s falling to the ground and there are no questions regarding anyone’s love life– if you don’t take into account Joshua asking Hoshi if his sister is still single. 

You don’t know how much time passes but you feel at ease on the black couch, leaning the side of your head against the backrest as you continue to enjoy the nice and friendly atmosphere. The guys have now changed to another game in a smaller group, while the others thought it was a good idea to start playing Mario Kart.

The music changes to a slower genre when the clock hits 2am and you decide that maybe it’s time to get another drink, the alcohol leaving your system a bit too soon for your liking.

With a sudden boost of energy, you swing your legs off Mingyu’s lap and stand up, kneeling down to stack the empty shot glasses and bring them with you to the kitchen. While you’re doing so, you feel a tug at the bottom of your dress. Mingyu pulls the hem of your dress down as you lean over and he makes sure no one can sneak a glance under your short  outfit. 

You turn to him with difficulty, the stacked shot glasses in your hands and your heels almost knocking over a plastic cup on the ground. Mingyu looks up at you, hair brushed back and arm resting on the back of the couch. He waits for you to speak and you smile softly. “Want a drink?” 

The corners of his mouth turn up and he gets up from the couch, taking the shot glasses from your hands. “I’ll go with you, if that’s ok.” 

You nod, and almost notice the faint blush on Mingyu’s cheek, “Of course.”

The music is still playing through the heavy speakers in each corner of the room, the lights of the TV casts a colorful glow over Mingyu’s living room and the chatter of every party goer doesn’t go unnoticed as you two make your way out of the room, stepping over the many empty cups on the wooden floor and into the less crowded hallway.

There aren’t really a lot of people in the hallway, but most of them are walking from one room to another, making it a hassle to peacefully cross the hallway without bumping into someone. It’s loud and the people occupying the little space aren’t exactly making it easy to enter the kitchen. 

Mingyu sees the mess before you do, taking all the shot glasses in one hand and grabbing your hand with the other. His back is creating a wall between you and the ‘danger’ in the hallway, and before you know it, Mingyu’s pushing forward, bumping into drunk party goers to make it through. He quickly creates a path, one that is safe to take as he pushes away the cups and beer bottles on the ground away and to the side, craning his arm so that you’re close to his back and following him.

When a very drunk– and probably high, guy stumbles out of a random room and directly into Mingyu’s shoulder, the shot glasses nearly fall to the floor, earning a panicked gasp from the owner. The guy doesn’t even bother to say sorry, looking past the both of you with a dead gaze as he tumbles forward, weak legs bringing him to the living room.

You whip your head around, smelling the awful stench coming from the guy and bring your hand up to cover your mouth. When he’s out of sight, you sneak one last glance to where he disappeared off to and tsks. “Asshole.” 

Mingyu’s laugh brings your eyes back to him, puzzled. He just squeezes your hand, sending you a smile over his shoulder. 

As you two finally arrive at your destination, the kitchen, your eyes widen in horror. It seems that there are even more people in the small kitchen than in the living room, which is already crowded enough. There’s not even enough space to navigate properly, people choosing to squeeze themselves between other people to get to the exit, spilling bits of their newly-filled drink. You hear Mingyu sigh– the cleanup the morning after is gonna be a tough one.

“Hey, why don’t you wait for me here? I’ll go in alone and come back with the drinks.” Mingyu turns to you, the shot glasses carefully leaning against his chest. 

Mingyu watches as you glance around the hallway and then around him, into the kitchen. You bite your lip, showing you’re becoming a bit anxious and he furrows his eyebrows. His smile quickly falters, showing concern right away. “You okay?” 

You look up at him as he turns fully towards you, almost blocking the doorway to the kitchen. You pass your hands over your dress, flattening out the non-existent wrinkles. “Yeah, it’s just starting to feel a bit too stuffy in here..”

Mingyu hums, raising his head to look at the end of the hallway, where the door to the balcony is situated. When he returns his gaze to you, he tilts his head cutely, licking his lips. “You wanna wait by the balcony? I told the guests not to go on there too much so that i won’t get a noise complaint from the neighbors. I think it’s safe if you go there.” 

With a smile, you nod at Mingyu, “yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” You place one of your hands on the wall next to the kitchen before leaning in so he hears you better over the music. “Don’t die in there by the way! We haven’t even gone to Iceland yet like we planned to years ago– it would be a waste for you to miss out on our extravagant bucket list, right?”

Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the sound making you smile from ear to ear. “C’mon, who do you take me for? Seok– Oh sorry.” Mingyu cuts himself off, lifting his two hands in the air with one still holding all the shot glasses. The girl, who just bumped into Mingyu, and who you recognize as one of your classmates from your major, pushes her hair behind her ear, blushing at your friend. 

Before she leaves, she mumbles a few words, but the music is way too loud for you to make out what it was, and then she’s gone. 

You don’t pay too much attention to it, as does Mingyu, who’s already back to look at you. It’s not the first and certainly not the last time someone is going to bump into one of you two at his party. 

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You turn back to Mingyu, crossing your arms and making the silver necklace you’re currently wearing shine even more under the flashy led lights. 

“Ah, sweetheart, you never listen do you?” Mingyu brings his free hand up to your jaw, tapping on the underside of your chin with his index finger. “I said, you need to stop biting your lips when you’re nervous. They’re too pretty for that.” 

You can’t speak, your entire vocabulary having left your body. His hand then turns to cup the underside of your jaw, his thump grazing over your bottom lip, ultimately smudging a bit of your lipgloss. Your mouth falls open a bit at the shock but he doesn’t stop. “A pretty color.. for pretty lips. Suiting.” His thumb sweeps one last time over your lip before he retreats into the kitchen. 

“Wait for me by the balcony, I'll grab our drinks for us.” 

— 

The temperature outside is completely different from the stuffy warmth inside the small apartment, the cold breeze making you shiver. You’re not a fan of the winter, or the cold in general, but when it’s almost 3am and your cheeks are red from being around Mingyu, the weather is probably the only thing keeping you sane. 

You think it’s captivating outside– how the moon shines and provides you enough light, how the silence from nature and the muffled sounds from the party mix together, how the wind blows your hair around and makes you tremble. You like it all.

There’s a calming atmosphere around it. You don’t feel as edgy as before and you mentally thank Mingyu for allowing you to use his sacred space for your own benefit. 

If you truly think about it, you had come to the party with no real intentions, but as the night goes by, you find yourself yearning for more. 

You find yourself yearning for Mingyu. You suppose it’s not entirely a bad thing– it’s also not the first time. 

You’re leaning over the balcony railing, looking down to the street at the foot of his apartment building. The concrete tiles are darker than usual, and wet– you were too absorbed by the party to even notice it was raining outside. The water droplets on the railing are cold against the skin of your forearms but you just clench your jaw through it. In a way, it wakes you up.

Your eyes are closed as you hum to the melodies of the pop song playing inside, chin propped up on your palm. You don’t know how long you rest your eyes, but you missed Mingyu’s voice when he opens the door to the balcony, stepping out of the apartment and smiling your way.

“Sleepy?” You just tilt your head, eyes still closed. You do turn towards him as you feel his presence behind you. 

You realize Mingyu always smiles when he’s looking at you and butterflies race in your stomach. 

Your hands are on the slippery metal railing as you lean back against it, the water droplets staining the lower back of your dress. It’s cold against your skin and you shiver, suddenly, and Mingyu notices, immediately stepping closer to you. 

“Just a bit out of energy.” 

Mingyu closes the balcony door behind him, swiftly setting down the two newly-filled plastic cups on a wobbly garden table in the corner and joining you. He stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and smirking down at you. You gulp, feeling like his prey. 

“Why’s that?” His tone doesn’t show an ounce of concern. Probably because he knows he has nothing to worry about. 

You’re not a jealous person, truly. You’re relatively confident when it comes to your relationships and friendships and have never deemed it necessary to throw a tantrum about your partner and who he talks to. To be fair, your last relationship was quite a while ago, but you still stand by your own beliefs. 

So, feeling a tiny bit of jealousy creep up when your classmate– the one who had previously bumped into Mingyu– walked up to him in the kitchen and laid her perfectly manicured hand on his bicep was an entirely new thing for you. 

You had even questioned yourself if you had the right to be jealous. You and Mingyu weren’t even together! 

The fact that you could watch what was happening right from your spot on the balcony didn’t help you either– your curious self being unable to stop watching while your mind was telling you to think about happy moments– aka moments where Mingyu showed he was definitely more interested in you than in the party or your classmate. 

So even though the little angel on your shoulder tried to avert your eyes from the crime scene, the manipulation play from the little devil on your other shoulder was a bit too convincing for your liking. In conclusion, you found yourself staring at the entire event. 

Frankly, nothing happened. On Mingyu’s part at least. The girl however, let’s say she was just trying to get to know him (a lie you’re definitely not telling yourself to keep calm).

Honestly, you weren’t paying much attention at first. It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, of course people will go up to him and congratulate him. But when the girl– you honestly don’t even remember her name– leaned towards him and put her hand on his chest, on the same spot where your hand had been moments prior, you knew this was more than a simple “happy birthday!”. 

Was it foul to only remember the way Mingyu’s smile seemed fake, the way he slowly backed away from her presence, and the way he rushed back to you? If it was, you couldn’t care less.

The two drinks he brought back were still sitting on the old table, untouched as if forgotten. 

Mingyu’s a bit too close for your liking. You can probably start counting his lashes– or the sparkles in his eyes. But when you open your mouth to joke, so that the tension could leave your body, Mingyu interrupts you and gets even closer. 

His tone is serious but you know he’s enjoying this, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Were you jealous?” 

You hate how good Mingyu knows you, and you hate the effect he currently has on you, even though you would normally bathe in it. 

You know he knows, so there’s really no need to lie. Even more so when one of the reasons why he rushed back to you was because your eyes met when he was getting your drinks, and he saw you biting your lip. And you know now he doesn’t like it when you do that. 

You lean back against the railing even more, the metal digging into your skin as your heart starts to speed up. Your sudden shyness doesn’t waver his interest in the slightest and he only takes a step forward, backing you up against the railing. 

“What are you going to do if I say I was?” 

At that, Mingyu chuckles, looking to the side before hanging his head down. When he looks at you again, his hand finds its way to your cheek and he carefully brushes over the blush adorning your skin. 

The only thing you hear is a small ‘cute’ uttered under his breath before he retracts his hand and puts both of them on the railing behind you, trapping you between him and the end of the balcony.

Mingyu caught you, literally, and there’s not much you can do to stop him from getting what he wants. So you opt the easy way out, speaking the truth. “I was jealous, yeah. For the first time ever actually.” 

His smile grows even wider. “Do you love me that much, darling?” 

You don’t give him an answer this time, because you know he’s not really waiting for one. He knows and that’s enough for him, now. He also doesn’t really have the correct mindset to play this game with you at his party. The few glasses of alcohol you both took earlier are probably a bit at fault too. 

You clear your throat and he speaks up again, voice a bit rougher than earlier. “I guess Hoshi didn’t lie when he told me you liked me that much that you would have prepared two gifts for me.”

“You know Hoshi almost always lies.” You let go of the railing, hands finding their way to Mingyu’s waist, fiddling with his leather belt.  

You hear him inhale sharply, looking up to the sky for a short moment before focusing on you again, and definitely not on your hands. 

To fight back against the aggressive butterflies causing havoc in his stomach, Mingyu pulls you towards him, one hand on your lower back and the other one squeezing the fat at your hip. He’s in total control, and he’s confident about it too– you couldn’t even blame him for it. 

“Oh, almost always? So he’s not lying this time?” Mingyu leans down again, faces inches away from each other, to the point where you could just close the distance between the two of you with a small movement of the head. “Because I do think there’s some truth to it, sweetheart.” 

Your hair swings in the wind, and even though it’s cold, you want to stay with Mingyu as long as possible. His body feels warm under your fingertips and you almost gasp when he pushes you against the railing, his hand protecting your lower back from digging into the cold, wet metal. 

A short silence fills the air and you don’t know what to do except look away, your face growing hotter and hotter with every minute. Mingyu doesn’t talk either, too busy staring down at you. He makes a mental list in his head of all the things he loves about you, adoring you with his eyes while the music inside resonates from the glass door. 

You look away because you can feel him stare, and you wouldn’t know how to react if you were to make eye contact, since the effect Mingyu has on you is continuously making your knees buckle under you. 

“Were you interested?”, you suddenly ask, voice much quieter than before. It takes Mingyu a few seconds to realize what you’re talking about when you don’t meet his eyes, deciding to rather look at his shoes instead. 

He thought he had made it clear– clearer than anything else– but he didn’t expect you to suddenly shy away while in his arms and close to his chest, all because some girl tried to flirt with him. Deep down, you know he isn’t (if he was, he wouldn’t be with you right now, risking at least a three day-long fever) but you want him to say it. 

Mingyu just tilts his head a bit, a soft smile on his face as he tries to show you you have nothing to worry about. “Not in her, no.”

This time you smile back, a quiet ‘good’ falling off your lips as you place your hands on his forearms, palming his muscles through the sleeves. “Just wanted to make sure, y’know.”

He knows. 

Now it’s his turn to ask questions though.

“Why didn’t you say anything during Truth or Dare?” The question comes off strong, completely out of nowhere and causing your eyes to widen in shock. You weren’t expecting him to mention the game and how much you had embarrassed yourself.

You’re quick to answer though, in all honesty. “Because the others didn’t have to know.”

Mingyu smirks, liking the way your face heats up whenever he does or says something. He feels like your eyes can’t take him in wholly, going from one part to another frantically as they slide over his upper body. “And can I?” 

Your eyebrows furrow after his teasing tone makes an appearance again and he has to stop himself from letting out a chuckle. You’re almost pouting too, lower lip jutting out and unintentionally showing off your pretty lipgloss. You cross your arms, nails digging in your own forearms as the cold suddenly takes over you again. “I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

A beat of silence, and then, “I want you to say it.”

He’s begging for it, pleading eyes boring into yours. His voice sounds somewhat more whiny as he starts to rub your sleeveless arms, making the goosebumps disappear. It’s not the first time you’ve seen Mingyu use his puppy eyes, he usually brings them out when someone teases him or when he needs something, and today, it’s the latter. 

Once again, you find yourself unable to refuse Mingyu anything. 

“I should have said your name when Minghao asked.”

Then he’s smiling again, happy you finally (kinda) admitted what you two should have confessed months earlier. He didn’t think you would give in so quickly, making him beam in excitement. His eyes are full of joy and his cheeks are rosy– you like to think it’s because of what you said, but the alcohol could still be playing a part in it.

You didn’t even feel tipsy anymore, no blurred vision or imperfect balance. It’s the first time you’ve sobered up so quickly, and you entirely thank Mingyu for it. 

You truly don’t know how much time passed since you stepped foot onto the balcony, the cold weather dragging every minute out but Mingyu’s presence speeding everything up. The music seemed to have calmed down a lot since the beginning of the night, and when you glance around Mingyu and into the apartment, you notice you can actually now make out the furniture and picture frames in the hallway. The kitchen and hallway are mainly empty but you can still hear chatter and laughter coming from the living room, concluding the rest of the guests are probably scattered all over the couches.

When your thoughts are all over the place, a slight pinch at your hip wakes you up, bringing you back to reality– on the balcony, and still in Mingyu’s arms. He chuckles, smoothing down your dress where he pinched you, rubbing over the now sore spot as you slowly wince. 

He looks behind him, into his apartment, where you were previously staring at and comes to the same conclusion as you. 

You’re all alone, with no one around. 

That thought alone makes him gulp. Fuck, was he always this nervous around girls?

It’s a silly question, because he knows he’s only ever that nervous when it comes to you.

He’s nervous, but he still craves for more so he focuses on you again. On your pretty eyes and how much they glisten in the moonlight. On your soft hair and how perfectly his hand fits in the nape of your neck, playing with a few strands. On your pretty lips and how he wishes he could just kiss away the lipgloss, so that you’d have to apply it again and he could then mess it up again.  

Mingyu needs you now, and if that means speaking without a filter, then so be it– a sacrifice he’s more than willing to give. 

“Are you going to kiss me now?”

You giggle and he feels dumb. But then you smile so deeply that he falls in love all over again. And he thinks you’re with no doubt the most beautiful soul he’s ever met. 

Your hands start to travel back up from his forearms to his biceps, before landing on his shoulders, where they squeeze his muscles, the tension in them all too familiar. You eye him, entirely this time, taking your time to appreciate every single part of him. 

You stare a bit too long at his neck and Mingyu blushes, unaware of how he’s supposed to react to this sudden onslaught of attention. Your hands move up to his jaw, holding his face close to yours as you stroke both his cheeks. 

You truly have him twisted around your finger. 

“Do you want me to?” It's an unnecessary question, but you want him to say it– just like Mingyu wanted you to before. Mingyu thinks he’s on the verge of collapsing, the only thing still keeping him upright are your hands on him and his on your waist and the railing. 

He’s desperate as he catches both of your wrists and kisses them each, before bringing your right arm up to wrap around his neck. He’s slow but determined and it sends shivers down your spine. Your nails scratch against the nape of his neck and he groans, clearly affected by it– by you. 

“Please, Yn.”

Your left arm soon joins the other one around his neck and Mingyu has to mentally restrain himself from rushing whatever good is supposed to happen. When both your arms are loosely hanging around his neck, your bodies are closer than ever, chests pressed against each other, warmth engulfing you entirely.  

Your sweet voice is the last thing he hears before his mind circuits. “Guess it’s time for your second gift then.”

And then you’re standing on your tip-toes, closing the small distance between you two and finally, finally stopping the seemingly endless torture. 

Your lips smash against his and it’s so aggressive because you can’t control yourself anymore. His lips feel soft and delicate against yours and you think you might end up breaking them– you wish you would. 

Mingyu holds a strong grip onto your waist, his arm circling around it to make sure you don’t shy away again. His other hand is on the side of your neck, holding onto your face as he pushes you against the balcony railing. 

One of the first things he notices is your raspberry flavored lip gloss– which he swears he knows he will never get enough of– and the slight hint of alcohol on your lips. It’s enamoring, enticing and everything he’s ever wanted. 

You run out of breath quickly but you don’t stop, you refuse to, physically unable to separate yourself from him. It’s Mingyu who backs away first, leaving you desperate for more, chasing after his lips. You gasp for air, head spinning at the utterly new but heavenly feeling while Mingyu attacks your neck, jaw, and everything that could make your eyes roll back.

Your hands are gripping onto his shirt, nails clawing at his back as Mingyu takes pleasure in pressing kisses onto your skin, going from your neck down to your cleavage and stopping when his chin grazes the fabric of your dress.

Mingyu groans when you pull at his hair, biting and sucking at your neck before planting a last kiss on your collarbone, quickly coming back up to your lips. He swears he can’t live anymore without kissing you. 

You drag Mingyu closer to you by the collar of his shirt, and then he’s kissing you again. His lips were determined and unrelenting, not letting go of you. He was addicted, goosebumps taking over his body as he bit down on your lower lip. You whined at the metal taste in your mouth, craning your neck for more. 

Mingyu chuckled against your lips, kissing them slowly before sliding his tongue against your lower lip to soothe the bite. He’s barely leaving you alive, completely breathless but still– always–  aching for more. 

His mouth was devouring you and you just couldn’t get enough– both of you, too absorbed in your own little bubble to even notice the weather was becoming gradually worse, rain falling out of the sky in a downpour. 

His tongue slid against your lips, again, before entering your mouth. Your hands holding onto Mingyu’s shoulders weren’t enough to get you anchored, legs trembling as he held onto your waist, muscles flexing. 

Mingyu’s warmth surrounded you completely, to the point where you felt like you couldn't breathe properly. Mingyu had taken full control over you, as your mind was a total mess, and you were just able to follow his movements and beg for more.

You gripped onto his bicep as you arched your back, the rain drenching both of you to the core– not that you really cared anyway, the way Mingyu’s tongue fought with yours was what truly mattered. 

You were ruined– completely and devastatingly ruined for everyone who wasn’t Mingyu.  

Then he eventually parted from you, pressing one sweet kiss to your mouth and you almost teared up when you felt him smile against your lips. 

Mingyu was beautiful, soaking wet hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and the tip of his ears spark red and his lips swollen, red and plump from kissing you. His chest is heaving as you stare up at him, not caring in the slightest about the rain messing up your makeup and outfit. 

His hands slowly lift up to your face, holding it so softly your heart skips a beat. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone and he leans towards you, nuzzling your nose with his. 

Mingyu’s eyes literally shine and your lips part in awe.

You stare too much but Mingyu doesn’t force you to look away, because he’s sure he’s staring just as much. 

It’s only when you lean back into his arms that Mingyu notices the lingering taste of raspberry on his lips. He grins and he hopes that your lip color stained his lips, so that when you go back inside, your friends know that you’re his now– not that they weren’t aware before. 

And when you lift your head to look at him, arms circled around his waist, your smudged lipgloss is enough to make him want more. 

“Happy fucking birthday to me.”

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