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cremebrulekat · 2 months ago

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second chance mingyu x reader

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐟𝐭 𝐤.𝐦𝐠

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

semi-side-pairing: reader and seungcheol have an on-and-off friends with benefits relationship that has ended

summary: you’ve known mingyu since college, and after he stood you up in second year, you’ve never gotten along - good thing you’re stuck sharing a room at a destination wedding party.

And when you do try to get away from one another - too bad that you both decide to go on a long hike, get rained on, and stuck in yet another room with only one bed.

genre: only one bed, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, mentioned fake dating, second chance, slow burn, yes - everyone is an attorney - sorry

word count: 11.5k

if you want to read this broken into chapters, here it is on ao3

warnings: explicit language, mentioned smut (not described in detail), foreplay, mentioned drinking , mentioned therapy

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

“Seriously, why did they decide this was a destination-level thing,” you complained to Seungcheol from the passenger’s seat.

You were driving to a B&B like seven hours from the city because your friends were hosting a weekend for the wedding party. It was meant to be nothing but rest and relaxation. And like two very normal people with very normal schedules that didn’t at all prevent a social life, you’d agreed to be Seungcheol’s fake date for the weekend and probably for the wedding too.

“Because they think it’s cute and a nice way to thank their friends for showing up to all this wedding shit,” he mumbled.

You laughed, knowing he would rather be in his apartment rewatching some sad movie and texting a certain someone than driving to the mountains for the one weekend he’d requested off in four months.

And you - you would be happier doing literally anything. Because for you, there was one major problem with the weekend. The wedding party included one person you had carefully cut out of your life since college and law school. And this weekend meant you couldn’t avoid him.

You chewed your lip lightly, staring out the window. “You know we have that filing deadline, right?”

“I’m not working this weekend,” he said it like he was manifesting the end times, “I’m playing golf with people who couldn’t care less about what firm I’m at, and I’m drinking whatever I want, and I don’t care that we’re sharing a room because we’ve both seen each other naked enough times that to be honest you’re like the furniture to me, so I have no impediments, just me and golf and liquor that isn’t clear,” he said it so seriously.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, come next week, I should expect to see you looking very hung over and miserable during mediation?”

He nodded. “Fuck yes, you should,” he said with a grin.

You hummed in response. “Definitely on that partner track, aren’t you?”

“Shut up - at least I’m not trying to hide behind work because I can’t get along with others,” he shot back.

You stared with wide eyes, “Oh, don’t even start that!” You snapped.

He was still grinning. “You know it’s true - you can’t play nice with Mingyu, and”—

You cut him off. “No, no, excuse me - I can’t get along, me? no - he can’t get the fuck over some shit from like Freshman year, that’s not my problem,” you said adamantly.

Seungcheol nodded. “Umhm, right, we both know it was sophomore year, and you’ve never escalated whatever it is in any way, like I don’t know, throwing a drink in his face?” He asked, still grinning like a fucking idiot.

“You’re such a bitch - don’t bring that up,” you said, swatting his arm. “The whole point of us coming together is no one asks either of us about our personal lives, you know - as in you don’t have to explain that clerk for the district court you keep happening to see every Saturday…” you trailed off suggestively.

He pursed his lips. “Fine, I won’t say anything about Mingyu, and you don’t mention him.”

You laughed. “You should have just marked plus one, I don’t think anyone cares,” you said, genuinely meaning it.

Like all of his friends, you just wanted Seungcheol to be happy. Besides, Jeonghan was the only person you’d ever seen Seungcheol truly lose his mind over. They were insanely cute together.

And you hadn’t spent any amount of time helping Seungcheol with his texting game - he literally ran almost every message by you for a month. If he were anyone else, you would have pushed him out a window. But he wasn’t, so you had helped.

He sighed. “Are you really going to work?”

You shrugged. “It’s a good, plausible excuse. Besides, the only thing I’m really into are the massages anyway. So, that leaves what, 70 hours of free time that could be billable?” You asked with a snort.

“Fuck, you actually are thinking about the partnership shit, aren’t you?” He asked, glancing over.

You gave a shrug. You hadn’t been, but then you won a few pitches, and the cases had blown up. Now all the talks felt a lot more serious. “Maybe,” you said with a groan.

You were quiet for a moment. “So is Mingyu bringing someone?”

Seungcheol snorted. “Seriously, why couldn’t you wait until after we were there to ask?”

You stared at him. “What? Why?”

“Because now I owe Jeonghan dinner and the satisfaction of knowing he maybe knows my friend better than I do, apparently.”

You laughed. “Oh my god, you should just start planning where you two are registering now.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “If I say stuff like that - I can’t say stuff like that, we’ve barely dated,” he mumbled.

You shook your head. “So silly, just buy him flowers and an insane ring and ask him to be Kkuma’s other dad,” you said with a smile.

You did actually mean it. Even if you had a history with Seungcheol, something you’d made him promise to tell his new beau about in full.

You’d been friends with benefits at various times and were even fairly intense about one another a few times.

But now, you were just friends.

You had known that just by the way Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan, anyone with eyes would know that literally no one else could mean as much to Seungcheol. No one else stood a chance.

He shook his head. “Just, please don’t throw drinks or make a scene,” he mumbled.

You sighed. “I promise to avoid him, okay, just like I have been for like two years,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you stared out the window.

Seungcheol made a humming sound from the driver’s seat like he didn’t exactly believe you.

No matter, it was the only plan you had. And even if it meant skipping things that weekend, you really didn’t care. Because things between you and Mingyu had a tendency to escalate really quickly. You couldn’t even play beer pong with him.

That was what Cheol was on about - the fact that what should have been a totally friendly match where you and Mingyu had been paired together had become so acrimonious that you had, in fact, thrown a pitcher of beer in his face before it ended.

Seungcheol was being nice by implying it was semi-normal and only a cup - it wasn’t a cup. It was an entire pitcher. And unlike Mingyu, you had great aim, even when you were drunk as fuck. And you could still remember the absolutely shocked look on his face, too.

There were very real reasons you had avoided him for so long.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

“Is she really coming?” He’d asked Seungcheol when they met for lunch the week before.

Seungcheol had rolled his eyes. “Does it matter?”

Mingyu had poked his salad and sighed. “Does she still hate me?” He tried again, thinking about how you had seemed, maybe, a bit softer around him lately.

Mingyu was very aware of the fact that his friends were also your friends. He knew that whenever there was some Saturday when they were all busy, they were busy hanging out, he just wasn’t invited, and hadn’t been in a long time.

But on the flip side, there were all the times they hung out with him and not with you. That was cold comfort, though, because he kind of hated the way you’d managed to cut him out of your life so easily.

Seungcheol let out a long sigh. “Dude, are you seriously asking me about y/n? We aren’t in college anymore - if you want to talk to her, then just do it,” Seungcheol said as he stabbed pasta onto his fork.

Mingyu swallowed hard. “I’m only asking if I should even bother, like you two are close,” he mumbled. He fully knew just how close you and Seungcheol were, too. He’d always been jealous because everything seemed so easy between you two - so easy for Seungcheol to be close to you.

But with Mingyu, you always seemed to be on your guard. Ready to go on the defensive at the drop of a fucking feather.

Seungcheol sighed. “It’s our friends’ wedding thing - dude, what about that says ‘let me try to work out my personal issues with someone who knows exactly how to set me off’?” He was staring hard at Mingyu.

“I’m not - it’s”—

Seungcheol cut him off. “Look, you know she avoids you, so maybe just respect that - to her, it solves whatever issues there are between you two, okay, and I don’t have some special insight. She doesn’t talk about you, not with me, not with anyone else we know, just drop it,” he finished.

And Mingyu didn’t press the subject. Because after that, Seungcheol’s voice just replayed in his head, ‘she doesn’t talk about you.’ He’d said it so matter-of-factly, too - his voice pointed and sharp.

Mingyu definitely wasn’t still thinking about it that Saturday morning. He’d decided to do what Seungcheol had said: he would stay away from you.

He was answering emails in the car on the way. Joshua and Seokmin kept telling him that he needed to unplug.

“Seriously, Seungcheol said y/n is basically working the whole time - there can’t be two of you being completely dull,” Joshua declared.

Mingyu sighed, “I’m trying to answer them all now, so I can shut down for the weekend,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Good! Now, if Seungcheol can just work his magic on y/n, we can actually have a good weekend.” Seokmin added.

Joshua laughed. “Only if a ‘good weekend’ includes seeing Mingyu and Y/n get into a bitch fight,” he said with a smirk as he glanced in the rearview window, catching Mingyu’s eye.

Mingyu just shook his head, trying to focus. He didn’t want to think about the “beer incident,” and he definitely didn’t want to think about what magic Seungcheol could possibly work on you. He would never admit how much it annoyed him that you always came to events as a couple.

Because it wasn’t just events with friends, it was work functions, too. Your firms worked together on a lot of cases, so it was three holiday parties at the very least where he got reminded of you and Seungcheol together.

He hated that he couldn’t just be happy for either of you. But he couldn’t. To him, you should at least be with someone who was serious about you. And that had never been the case with Seungcheol. Not in Mingyu’s mind anyway.

He chewed his lip and kept responding to emails and chats. He just needed to keep himself distracted. Or at least that was what he thought.

But apparently, nothing was in his favor that day.

The B&B had some issues with booking. That was thing number one. Somehow, Mingyu didn’t have a room. And there were no extra rooms because the entire place was booked fully.

He was trying to figure out who would maybe share with him, which was not really working since most people had a roommate already, and the majority were couples, looking to do ‘couple’ things.

He was still texting desperately when he saw you arrive with Seungcheol. He watched as you got out, and he saw Seungcheol help with your stuff, and then he watched Seungcheol leave, which was weird.

Mingyu just stared. But then it popped in the group chat - Seungcheol was seeing someone, and whoever it was, was sick - he was headed back home. Mingyu stared at his phone for a full minute because, since when had Seungcheol started seeing someone who wasn’t you that seriously, he wondered.

He saw you check in, get your room keys, give your bags to the bellhop, and head for the elevator. You barely glanced at him.

But he was just desperate enough to do something really stupid.

“Y/n,” he called out.

You turned, looking shocked to see that it was just him there.

He waved. “Uh, can we talk?”

He watched your brows shoot together questioningly - no, it was worse, you looked like you’d just stepped in something gross, at best.

You started to give him the brush off - he knew that’s what was coming.

“Please,” he tried to put as much pleading and begging into his voice as he could manage.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed. “Fine, but can we at least go to the cafe?”

He nodded.

You let the bellhop take your bags to drop off in your room and followed Mingyu into the cafe. He sat at a table while you ordered coffee or whatever. He drummed his fingers lightly on the table, feeling nervous, more than nervous - it was like all of his anxiety dreams rolled into one. Because this wasn’t supposed to be happening. It might be an improvement if he were suddenly somehow naked. He sighed, hating his stress dreams and this moment.

He wasn’t supposed to be talking to you, much less asking what he was about to ask.

You sat down across from him with a sigh. “What’s wrong?” You asked, straight to the point.

He was taken aback for a split second but recovered quickly. “I, uhh, I need to ask a favor,” he said with a sigh.

You shrugged. “Okay, what?”

He chewed his lip lightly. “Um,” he stared at the table, knowing this was insane, “uh, the booking system is, I don’t know - look, could I stay in your room?” He was speaking too fast. Even he could hear the way he fumbled certain words.

You were quiet, though. He glanced up to see you watching him like you were considering what he’d asked. “Let me guess, no one else has a couch or a floor they’re willing to give up?” You asked, voice frosty.

He swallowed. “Do you think I would be asking otherwise?”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, sorry, of course, I’m the last person you would ever want to ask, what was I thinking,” you said it as though you hadn’t spent time purposefully ignoring his existence.

He sighed. “You avoid me, so let’s not pretend I’ve set the tone.”

You scoffed. “Right. Sure, it’s nothing to do with you or anything you did.” You shook your head in annoyance, glancing away from him.

You were both silent for a few awkward moments. But that wasn’t new. He wondered how he could have possibly thought anything had changed between you in the lst few months of working on the same nightmare case.

And then you went on. “Um, you know what, fine, you can share, but don’t bother me this weekend - don’t wake me up, don’t touch my stuff, don’t even look at me,” you said with a forced smile and got up. You tossed a key card to him and left.

He stayed where he was. It was the least auspicious start to any weekend ever. He swallowed tightly, shaking his head.

At least he had a room.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You walked into your room, staring around. For once really hating Seungcheol and his new ‘I’m in love’ whatever bullshit.

You flopped on the bed with a groan. That wasn’t really true. You were glad for Seungcheol. You were glad he’d found someone he would drop everything for and rush off to take care of because they were sick. It was stupidly cute.

You were just frustrated that somehow it left you as the only person with enough room to share with Mingyu. And you had to, didn’t you? Because if you didn’t, you’d be the asshole.

You tried to think of all the stupid things advertised as local attractions. There was some really long hike. You could do that - be off the grid, out of the hotel, and away from Mingyu. Just a pleasant 28-mile hike that had weirdly caught your eye as maybe an option for how to spend the trip.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing because you had planned for worse than this - you had all the shit to go on this dumb hike. You let out a deep breath and turned onto your side.

You stayed that way until you heard a soft knock on the door. You’d no idea how much time had passed.

You didn’t answer it. He had a fucking key card. And maybe if you just pretended to be dead or something, he would work around you.

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to look asleep. You couldn’t care less if it were believable or not. You promised not to make any scenes. And this was the best you could think of given the circumstances.

You heard the door open and what you assumed were Mingyu’s footsteps. There was the sound of a bag dropping. A jacket being removed.

You didn’t move. You tried not to breathe even.

He walked around quietly. You could guess he was looking for some option besides the bed. But you’d already looked.

The sofa was too small for you, much less him. The floors were hardwood. You almost laughed when he opened the balcony door and a gust of cool wind gusted in.

You sighed. “I called down for more pillows,” you didn’t see him jump at the sound of your voice. “We can just make a barrier down the middle.”

He stared at you. And shook his head. “I can sleep on the couch.” It was a massive fucking lie, but he wasn’t in the mood to negotiate the amount of bed space he needed with you.

You groaned and sat up. “Really?” You asked.

He nodded. You looked like you were ready to laugh in his face. “Okay, just for fun, let’s pretend you aren’t as tall as you are, please, demonstrate,” you said, tossing him a pillow.

He stared at you in disbelief. “Look, I’m just trying to do what you asked,” he said, squeezing the pillow lightly, trying to not be flustered.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation. “And we both know I was being massively unreasonable and kind of a twat downstairs, right?”

He kept his face neutral. Even if he agreed with everything you’d just said.

You shrugged and continued, assuming he agreed. “So, given that, yeah, there aren’t any amazing options. But at least be realistic. You can’t fit on that sofa, I can’t fit on that sofa, therefore, we’re left with the option I initially outlined, so just agree and make this easy.”

He just nodded. “Okay, if you say so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just, look - if neither of us makes it weird, then it’s fine. There’s activities or whatever, and I have work, so we’ll barely see one another,” you said and flopped back onto the bed.

He chewed his lip lightly. “Right,” he agreed. You’d barely see him, and you’d be happier for it.

There wasn’t anything official planned on the first night, and he still had work to finish. So he sat on one side of the bed while you sat on the other. You briefly talked with him to place an order with room service.

When the extra pillows showed up, you made a very serious divider down the center of the bed.

And everything about it annoyed him much more than he expected. He’d never really gotten how things had gotten to the point they had between you and him. You’d actually been friends to begin with.

Good friends even. At least he thought so. And he liked you, still. Nothing seemed to quite extinguish that flame for some reason. No matter how shitty things seemed between you.

But then something changed between you and him in a way he’d never been able to fix, exactly. And it was like you couldn’t stand him overnight. And the worst part was that you knew exactly how to make him irrationally angry in the span of maybe ten seconds. You knew just what to say to get under his skin, and you did, often. It wasn’t good for either of you. Because he knew what to say to you, too. And it only got worse from there.

Your mutual friends had gone from thinking it was some crush thing to rarely inviting you both to things. You even stopped hanging out with them altogether for a few semesters. And he knew it was his fault, something he had done.

He got ready for bed before food even arrived. He put in his headphones and started watching something on his phone. He glanced up once to see you still typing away.

Dinner came and went. He was under the covers early. The bed was at least comfortable, and he was very clearly on his side of the pillow barrier when he passed out.

The problem was when he woke up.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[rewind : fourth year in college - soccer team vs. cross country beer pong games]

Mingyu couldn’t believe he’d been partnered with you. It was all down to the bracket system they used - you were the best from the girl’s soccer team and he was the best from the guy’s team.

It didn’t change the fact that he didn’t even want to stand next to you. You’d hated him for no good reason since second year. Because he had wanted to apologize, but you ignored him.

That wasn’t his fault.

And no one ever seemed to know why, except maybe Seungcheol. He seemed to know absolutely everything about you. And he’d never say anything.

Even if he just treated your relationship like some hookup bullshit. You were always up each other’s asses.

You walked over with a pitcher of beer to set up cups for the side. You glanced at him. “You okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, fine,” he mumbled. He knew you didn’t actually care how he was.

You set the cups up and left to get your own drink. You never played while drinking beer. You always had a mixed drink. But you had insane aim no matter what you were drinking. He tried to think about the fact that, playing with you, you two would definitely win. The other side was shit.

But he couldn’t stay positive about it. You bothered him. You had bothered him for a long time now. The way you always seemed to duck past him or swerve around him. You dodged texts and invites. You treated him like he was invisible.

And to him, it was totally unwarranted. Like one fucked up text chain, and you acted like he vanished off the face of the planet. You went scorched earth over what was basically a mistake on his part.

You were so calm about it, too - one thing happened, and suddenly you just removed him from your life like he’d never mattered.

That was the part he hated and rarely admitted. That was the part that hurt.

He’d never even gotten to apologize.

Instead, it just went from bad to worse to very ugly between you two.

The game opened, and you went first, sinking a shot in one of the opposing side’s back cups. He watched you grin, not at him, not at your fucking teammate, but you immediately looked to Seungcheol who was next to you.

“Nice, babe,” Seungcheol said as you grinned at him, barely out of his grasp for even a moment.

Mingyu rolled his eyes and took his turn when it came. He took out some of their closer cups. The cross-country team was behind even in the first round.

And every time he glanced over to see you waiting around by sitting in Seungcheol’s lap on the side, he couldn’t help the gross feeling in his gut. The two of you together were disgusting. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another. And it wasn’t just him who thought it was too much.

Besides, who didn’t just ask someone out. He asked people out.

But he was also normal.

You were next to him, getting ready to throw when he said it. “He’ll never fucking date you, you know? You’re not his type,” he whispered.

You glanced at him and shook your head as you threw the ping pong ball. “Yeah, well, I don’t think what he and I do is any of your fucking business, so just shut up and play through.” You left him standing alone for his turn.

He pursed his lips and missed for the first time that night.

It kept going like that, you making every shot while he missed almost every one of his. He wasn’t focused on the game.

It’s when he called you something like “easy” and a “bitch” that you snapped. He didn’t even see it coming; he just felt the sudden rush of cold beer flowing down his face, into his eyes, soaking his hair, rushing down the collar of his shirt and back, soaking through the fabric.

And then you threw your actual drink in his face. “You’ve always been a whiny bitch, and I thought we could get passed that for a moment, but yeah, stay the fuck away from me,” you’d said it with this crystal clear rage that cut through every other noise in the room.

Everyone had looked at him. And then they’d started to whisper. He’d shaken his head and shrugged. “We forfeit, I guess.”

He glanced at Seungcheol just to realize he looked as surprised as Mingyu felt. But unlike Mingyu, Seungcheol could actually go after you.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

Mingyu woke up completely wrapped around you. Apparently, pillow barriers meant absolutely nothing to either of you because you were just as tangled with him as he was with you.

He had no idea what to do.

He could feel your breath against his skin. You were flush against him - your legs twined with his. If he knew you didn’t virtually hate him, he would have been happy to wake up with you like this. Instead of waking up feeling nothing but guilty, like he was stealing something.

He moved, not a lot, just enough for you to turn in your sleep. He was careful when he rolled back to his side and when he put the pillows mostly back into place. He felt like you wouldn’t want to know that it had even happened.

Besides, he needed to get up anyway.

The only thing he really wanted to try at this point was the hiking trail that led to this little lodge place. The lodge was the head of a huge trail that took like months to do. He just wanted to do the lead-up trail, plus if he stayed at the lodge, then he wouldn’t be killing your mood.

He had no idea that you’d definitely woken up before him in a similar panic at the way you and he had demolished the pillow barrier during sleep. Not to mention the embarrassing way you were pressed against him.

He also had no idea that you sat up to get dressed for the exact same hike the moment he closed the door.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[rewind : second year in college - being stood up]

You and Mingyu were definitely friends, even if he caused some issues on the girl’s soccer team.

You were the team captain. And it did annoy you that he had dated like half the team by your second year. Especially since he had a habit of deciding to dump one girl by being caught with another girl.

You’d gotten a split lip breaking up one particularly nasty fight.

You’d complained to Seungcheol about it, and he’d shrugged. “What do I do? I’m not his parent or something,” he said.

“You could talk to him, tell him to stop being such an asshole,” you suggested.

He sighed. “Look, I did kind of say something, and he’s, I don’t know, he wants attention,” he said cryptically with a glance at you.

You groaned. “For fucks sake, I just need him to stop fucking girls on my team - move on to a sorority or something - they’re probably equipped for that anyway,” you sighed and glanced at Seungcheol. He was still staring at you like there was some deeper meaning to something he’d said.

You shrugged, feeling defeated. “Thanks for trying, I guess.” You rolled your eyes and left, giving up. If Seungcheol couldn’t talk some sense into him, you really had no hope. It was way too awkward for you to bring up.

Friends or not, there wasn’t a good way to ask him to keep his dick to himself.

You’d left the caf and headed for the library. But on your way you’d gotten a text that was questionable at best.

You were still staring at it when you walked to the third-floor quiet area to study.

[mingyu]

heyyy […]

want to go out friday?

Since when did Mingyu say ‘hey’ with extra letters, you wondered. Or ask you to hang out for that matter. You didn’t ask one another to hang out - you just saw each other at things that led to hanging out.

And you didn’t really text exactly either. You chatted through Discord because you both gamed. That was almost always how you talked to one another.

You stared at the message. It was weird.

[y/n]

u ok

[mingyu]

yea ofc […]

just yk was thinking about you […]

maybe we could hang out more officially

You rolled your eyes and left him on read. It was too weird. You cracked your textbook and decided that if he messaged again, you might respond. But you also might just screenshot it and pop it into your normal chat because maybe someone had his phone.

You made it through most of your calc problem set before checking back.

[mingyu]

srsly tho jel […]

hang out with me friday […]

pls

‘Jel’ was your gaming name, your gaming nickname to be more precise. The one only he used, especially when he was beating you at something and being a dick about it. Cute and dickish - that’s when he would call you ‘Jel’.

He never called you ‘jealousmallow94’. Just like you never called him ‘gummygyu’, even if it was kind of cute.

[y/n]

ur srsly asking

[mingyu]

yea using the actual messages app and everything

[y/n]

who else is going

[mingyu]

no one […]

just us

You stared harder, looking for the catch. Last you checked, Friday night, generally, was a standing party night. Plus, you felt like it was someone’s birthday weekend, too, aka, a weekend not to be missed.

You chewed your lip lightly. You’d literally just been asking Seungcheol to help rein Mingyu in, and now Mingyu was asking you out - this was too weird. You snapped screenshots and sent them to Seungcheol, asking what the texts were about, and went back to your problem set.

[cheol]

told u […]

he wants attention

[y/n]

this isn’t attention seeking […]

it’s totally weird

[cheol]

that he has a crush on you ??

[y/n]

waHt?? […]

no he doesn’t

[cheol]

yea he does […]

i didn’t want to tell you bcz not my place yk

[y/n]

fuck off

[cheol]

he does […]

he has since like idk since he met u […]

or idk whenever u used to run wth him on the weekends […]

down bad since then ig

[y/n]

sounds fake

[cheol]

so tell him to fuck off […]

maybe he’ll get over the girl’s team then

[y/n]

wtf about fucking around with half the team would make me think anything good about him

[cheol]

and i quote “word of mouth” […]

said by two dumbasses […]

apparently taken to heart by a third dumb ass

[y/n]

srsly having a dick lowers your iq or smth

[cheol]

thanks […]

btw not proper use of iq […]

wait srry don’t u steal my notes :3

[y/n]

yeah bby ur typing is immaculate […]

even monkeys can type tho

You flicked back to the messages from Mingyu, staring at them and wondering if they were real. If he was being real.

You didn’t answer until later that night. You said ‘yes.’ And you agreed on a time and a movie to see.

But something about it felt off - you couldn’t ever put a finger on it, though. It just didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if it had been last year, but to ask now was strange.

So when Friday night rolled around, you spent some time getting ready, but not too much time. You picked baggy jeans and a cardigan. You were still going to see a movie with a friend, basically. You weren’t going all out.

You didn’t exactly think of it as a date. More like a pre-date. It was a chance to test the waters. But for some reason, you still half expected that he wouldn’t show.

You sat in your dorm’s living room, playing a game on your phone. You wanted to be distracted from looking at the clock, from the weird nervous tension in your stomach, everything really.

You didn’t really like Mingyu, you told yourself repeatedly.

You thought he was cute, but that was it.

It wasn’t serious.

And you weren’t going on a date with him.

None of that was real, you reassured yourself.

What was very real was the suck ass team you’d gotten dropped into a mobile game of call of duty with and the way they were all so bad. Your score in the ranked match results was ridiculously high.

You locked in for another match. You were focused now. You hopped from match to match.

You hadn’t forgotten the time. Not really.

And you hadn’t forgotten that Mingyu was supposed to come by.

Or that you were supposed to go together.

You hadn’t forgotten a single thing.

It was more that every minute past the time you were supposed to meet was annoying and then just sad in a way that made you switch to only playing in ‘free for all’ matches where you kept winning by killing every other player half a dozen times.

When you finally logged out well after midnight - you didn’t cry. You didn’t message Seungcheol.

You just changed your gaming name and blocked Mingyu’s accounts on every platform, including his contact information from your phone.

He was dead to you.

And then you took a quick shower and went to bed with a show playing on your laptop.

And you didn’t talk to him after that unless you absolutely had to. It helped that he avoided you for a few days. You had no clue if he messaged you, or called, or anything.

And whatever, because he did move on to sorority girls.

Apparently, he didn’t have a crush on you - he just wanted to make you feel like shit. Just like he’d made every other girl on your team feel.

And the next semester, you and Seungcheol become a much more regular thing. Until you took a break because you met someone else.

And then you took a break from the whole friend group. You needed it. Things were feeling too complicated. And someone new was a breath of fresh air.

Besides, dance majors really knew how to fuck.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu didn’t realize how much he fucked up until the next day when he saw that he made a date with you, and he slightly imploded.

He read through the messages he’d sent while drunk. He regretted them completely, not because he didn’t mean what he’d said, but because it was you that he’d asked in such a stupid way.

He’d been just confident enough to ask you out, though. And you’d literally asked if he was ‘okay’ - he should have stopped there and then.

But he hadn’t, even though this was exactly the reason he never even tried approaching you the way he really wanted to. How could he when he knew you didn’t take him seriously - not in that way, at least.

He was just someone to game with. And he knew it.

But somehow it was real.

He’d asked you, and after some convincing, you’d said ‘yes.’ He didn’t know what to do with that. He tried to think of how to make it feel like something remotely special and not just another night hanging out with him. He thought about what to wear and how he would pay for things. And then he thought about screaming into his pillow because what the fuck had he been thinking to ask you out?

He sighed, knowing he would fuck it up. He’d say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing.

You always brought out his nervous side. The only time he was normal with you was when you gamed together. Somehow, talking to you through a headset was completely fine, but in person, he was not great beyond joking around at parties. He wished he knew how to talk to you.

Because, really, even gaming with you had been a fluke. You’d been looking bored at a party, and he happened to see that you were just hanging out gaming on your phone while everything happened around you.

He’d asked what you played and for your username. You’d given it and told him that it was “the same for mobile and systems.” He’d thought it was maybe the hottest thing a girl had ever said to him.

And it became like a ritual to play with you.

He knew your class schedule because you almost always pinged him to play when you were finished for the day. He knew roughly when you studied, and practiced, and everything, really. You pinged him during parties, even.

And if the party was at the house, the house that most of the soccer players shared, and you were early, you would usually pregame and play on console with him in his room, your knee bumping against his while you both tried to squeeze into his tiny ass room.

He was insanely glad for his PlayStation and Xbox. He was less glad for the various comments he got from his friends, like when was he finally going to ask you out. That was the biggest question. The times that you had fallen asleep in his room didn’t help.

Or when you started meeting him for early morning runs - the way you’d sometimes come back to his room and pass out with him before class, all your sweaty limbs finding their way to his - it was always then that he thought about kissing you, soft then hard, and how good it would feel to undress one another and how good the sweat would be then and the cool spray of the shower after.

You were pure fantasy to him, warm and sweet next to him, sleeping soundly because apparently you never really slept well.

He groaned because he knew he would fuck it up. He liked how things were, and he probably couldn’t exactly say that either without it sounding shitty. Telling you he wanted to cancel because ‘things are good’ - he rolled his eyes at himself. He’d fallen back on his bed, unhappiness setting in.

And then he had fucked it up - beyond anything even he expected.

He’d thought playing beer pong would calm him down the day of. They were playing with shots, though, not beer. He’d passed out before you were even supposed to meet.

By the time he came to the next day, you were gone from everything. He couldn’t even find your username to send a request in-game. And talking to you was already not something he was great at.

It didn’t stop the way he felt or how much he wanted you. It just felt like a bruise that he kept hitting against things. Every time he saw you and Seungcheol, it ached somewhere deep inside him because it was like you’d just replaced him with someone else.

And whenever you did talk to him, it somehow always got really out of hand. He didn’t just say the wrong things - he said things that made everything so much worse. It was like his brain had short-circuited to the point that he could only say things that made you hate him.

Seungcheol had once told him to stop being so “obtuse” - that a phone wasn’t the way to talk to you at this point. And something about Mingyu getting his head out of his ass if he ever wanted another shot with you.

It had been obnoxious to hear that from Seungcheol - him telling Mingyu how he should approach you was so fucking absurd, given whatever you had with Seungcheol was going on, and neither of you were especially private about it.

But then came graduation, and even in law school, when things could have calmed down, they hadn’t.

Instead, you and he were just painfully competitive, fighting it out for every grade as 1Ls. You’d accepted an internship with a different firm for the fall. But that didn’t stop anything because there was still the law review and who would be published first (you - he knew without looking that your topic was more interesting), and who would be editor (him - fuck you for getting Seungcheol to co-author an article with you), and mock trial, and everything ever.

He was always around you, in your orbit, but never allowed to get close.

It was the most hopeless situation.

He hated the way he never saw you. Never a message. Nothing. He didn’t even randomly get to see you around. He hated it, but the longer it went on, the more he felt like he’d lost any chance.

At least until he decided to go hiking.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

You weren’t fully sure what compelled you to bring your hiking gear other than planning for the worst-case scenario, but you had.

And now you were glad for it because if you hiked to the trail head, it was a solid 14 miles away from Kim Mingyu and whatever the fuck he was doing. And another 14 miles back.

You rushed to get ready because you needed to get out of the room before you suffocated. You needed to forget how warm he felt - how good he felt and how you’d missed that feeling, apparently - and all the memories it caused to come flooding back.

You cleaned your teeth, threw your hair in a ponytail, and slapped on sunscreen. You were on a huge mission to force all those messy college memories back into their little compartments in your brain.

You did not have time to sort through them.

Mingyu had stood you up and never even apologized. So fuck him.

The end. Fin. Roll fucking credits.

You grabbed a quick breakfast sandwich, several waters, and a ‘trail’ lunch - whatever the fuck that was - and you were off.

You barely listened when the person at the counter mentioned that another person from your group had left maybe an hour earlier. In your mind, they had to have meant another guest because there wasn’t anyone in your group you could imagine heading out at like 6:00 AM to start a hike.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu was maybe at the halfway point when he paused for a break. He wasn’t gasping or anything, but he wanted to enjoy the feeling of the trail and the forest surrounding him.

He wasn’t just in the woods. He was genuinely alone, the trees swaying gently with a soft breeze. When he looked up, he could barely see the sky for the treetops.

He sat on a rock just off the edge of the trail and sipped his water, trying to think about just the moment he was in. He didn’t want his mind to wander to work or you. He just wanted to breathe and soak in the surroundings.

He’d passed by another hiker in the last mile. So he assumed the sounds he heard were that person catching up with him.

Instead, he saw you coming along, taking massive strides and staring around at the flora and fauna.

He panicked because fuck - fuck - why - why couldn’t you be back in the hotel room sleeping or working or anything but heading directly for him.

He slid off the rock and tried to move farther off the trail. Actually, he tried to hide behind the rock, wondering to himself if he was maybe cursed.

“Mingyu?” You called in a voice that was questioning the situation, and also maybe his sanity, too, since he was hunkered down behind a rock like an idiot.

He grimaced, wondering why he hadn’t just committed to lying on the ground and covering himself in leaves to hide.

“Hey,” he called out with a sigh. He’d been caught, and there was nothing to do.

He waited for you to get closer.

He sighed, wondering if he could run, maybe. It would have been totally blind and really dumb, but in the moment, the potential of sliding off the edge of the trail and down the mountainside seemed almost preferable.

You paused, hands on your hips, to look around - probably the same way that he had been marvelling in the quiet. He watched you for a moment before glancing away.

“It’s amazing, right?” You asked, voice soft with reverence.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, sounding dispondent. It certainly wasn’t the question he expected from you.

You glanced at him with a skeptical look. “‘Yeah’? That’s it?” You asked with a small laugh.

He shrugged. “I was trying to focus on it - you know, not think about my problems…” he trailed off.

“Oh, is that your oblique way of referring to me - I’m one of your ‘problems’?” You asked teasingly.

He couldn’t remember the last time you’d talked to him that way - the last time you had been actively joking with him. Instead of the toneless responses he’d become used to.

He shrugged. “Maybe,” he answered, feeling a warmth in his cheeks as he admitted it.

You sighed and kicked at the ground. “Want me to walk ahead then? Leave you to not think and all that?” You asked, voice gentle.

He was on the verge of saying ‘yes’, but then he saw a couple of younger guys passing. They were moving at a faster pace, but it didn’t stop either of them from glancing a beat too long at you.

Mingyu had the urge to grab your arm and pull you closer. His mom would be pissed to know he let anyone he knew go walking off alone on a mountain top. Especially a girl alone in the woods, where literally no one would hear anything happen to her.

Between his mom’s voice and every scene from a horror movie that flicked through his head, he couldn’t not hike with you. He had no doubt you would be a final girl if you had to be, but still.

He shook his head. “No, just hang back - it’s really nice to just sit here for a moment,” he said, still watching to make sure that the guys kept walking.

You came to stand next to him. “I do have mace, you know?” You asked, seeming to have read his mind.

He glanced at you. “Of course you do,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I like being prepared.” You mumbled with a smile.

He shook his head. “Yeah, but there are two of them, and one of you, and this isn’t a marked trail, so maybe we should stick together?” He suggested, stealing a quick glance at you.

You nodded, though. “Probably smart,” you murmured.

You sat on the rock with him for a while, taking photos of the trees and basking in the soft sounds of the forest. You and he were both fairly quiet, which seemed right for the moment, at least to Mingyu.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You sat staring up into the trees, wondering if this was just the universe’s fucked in the head plan to put you and Mingyu together until you snapped or fucked. Some twisted cosmic gameshow, you thought.

Glancing at him, you almost hoped it was the latter option.

But you could always settle for snapping, especially when you felt the first drop of rain hit your cheek. You blinked slowly as you wiped it away.

And then the drops started to come more consistently. You glanced at Mingyu. “Seriously?” You asked.

“It’s not like I did it,” he whispered, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

You shook your head, hearing the snapiness in his voice that you had become accustomed to - it hadn’t always been like that between you and him. But maybe he was so used to you sounding exasperated with him that it didn’t leave room for much else. Maybe he was just as tired of your attitude as you were.

You sighed. “I know - I didn’t mean it that way,” you mumbled, pulling a jacket from your pack. You had prepared for this hike more than you wanted to admit - it had been your exit strategy once you knew Mingyu was on the guest list.

Seungcheol had been a bit too into reconciliations lately, dropping little, not-so-subtle hints. You assumed it was just him being in his lovey-dovey, heart-eyed state because of Jeonghan.

So you had planned this as your getaway because he wouldn’t be paying attention while he was golfing, and if your best friend got a little too annoying, you could just wander off into the wilderness.

You glanced at Mingyu questioningly as you pulled on your jacket. “Where’s yours?” You asked, actually concerned.

He shrugged. “This wasn’t exactly on my dance card,” he said plainly.

You pursed your lips, digging through your bag for the spare poncho you had because ‘just in case’ was basically your motto. You tossed it to him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, almost looking surprised at the kindness. But it was exactly the first time you had done something lately that suggested maybe things between you and him were finally thawing.

Like during the last set of depositions, when you knew he couldn’t leave to get lunch, you’d brought him something. And maybe it was something you knew he liked too - it wasn’t a big deal that you knew what he liked to eat when he was stressed.

Or when it was obvious he was dealing with the asshole partner from his firm and all that came with that, you’d passed him some questions you’d been saving for your cross - he looked too rattled and sleep deprived to come up with his own. He’d been surprised by the gesture, but you’d shrugged and chalked it up to ‘we’re on the same side.’

In all fairness, the poncho was utilitarian, not cute, and definitely not stylish. Therefore, distinctly not ‘Mingyu.’ You had to help adjust it.

“Stop moving,” you whined, trying to fix it in the back so it fit under his bag the right way.

“I’m not moving,” he complained.

The result was him looking sort of cute despite the nature of the poncho.

The rest of the hike was an absolute slog.

You were both wearing shorts - your legs, at least, were freezing. And your toes were starting to feel a bit chilled from walking through so many puddles. Even if your boots were waterproof, the water was still cold and wasn’t drying.

You didn’t even ask Mingyu if he was miserable. All you had to do was glance back at him. He looked like he regretted his entire life. Even when you were only a mile out from the little camp-whatever-thing, there was no smile from him when you announced how close you both were to shelter.

You were stuck with the grim edition of Kim Mingyu. It was the rarest edition, though, and that was something. It took a lot to see misery take over his naturally optimistic disposition.

You sighed quietly and stopped to wait for him - you didn’t want to get too far ahead. “Are you like dying?” You asked and grabbed his sleeve, tugging him along, tired of the distance.

“Yes,” he whined, “this is fucking miserable,” he grumbled.

You groaned. “Yeah, well, what did they tell us fifty thousand times? ‘Get comfortable being uncomfortable.’” You said it in an obnoxious sing-song way that made even you hate you.

Luckily, you had booked a room large enough for two people because you always did. You always picked the rooms with more space because who wouldn’t - it was so obvious, at least to you.

You checked in and got your key. When you glanced back at Mingyu off to the side, soaked and pathetic, he really did look like the saddest puppy - he could almost be in an ASPCA commercial.

You couldn’t help yourself and quickly snapped a photo of him before he could notice.

You told yourself it was to send to Seungcheol later. Even as you hit the little ‘heart’ on the photo, so it would be easier to find in your camera roll.

“Come on,” you said with a sigh, grabbing his sleeve again and leading him along towards yet another room with only one bed.

The irony was not lost on you.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu was exhausted and wet and cold.

And you would not let him rest.

He barely made it in the room before you were handing him a towel and gently shoving him back down the hall towards the showers. He was surprised when you walked into the same one as him, but he realized it was a unisex space.

Still, you being naked one stall over from him, passing him soap and shampoo and conditioner like it was just any other day, was just the cherry on this fever dream sundae.

Worse was getting back to the room with you just wrapped in a towel that was just big enough, and you telling him to close his eyes so you could change.

He fell back onto the bed, assuming he was allowed to do that now. He could have fallen asleep, but you tossed clothes at him.

He sat up, knowing they were his. “Did you go through my bag?” He looked at you questioningly.

You just shrugged. “You’re like passed out, so I was trying to help,” you said it nonchalantly, like it was a pure fact. You had unquestionably dug through his bag.

But he was tired. He didn’t care.

And he didn’t immediately move. You said something about going to get food, so he just waited until he heard the door open and close to finally get dressed.

He put his towel over the back of one of the chairs in the room and grabbed yours off the floor, doing the same.

He glanced around, deciding that it wasn’t the worst room. There was a bed, a small table, heater, aircon, mini-fridge, and a sink with a mirror. It was decent for a room that was sort of at the top of a mountain.

He would have passed out, but you came back just in time with food and drinks. You had sandwiches and ramen somehow. No, he thought, it wasn’t ‘somehow’, it was probably that you’d brought it along because you planned for shit like this. He knew you - you always had a plan.

And he was very grateful that you were sharing with him - again.

“Where’s your phone?” You asked before you sat down.

He shrugged and pointed vaguely. You sighed, not your truly annoyed sigh, though. “I know you have movies and stuff downloaded,” you mumbled, already up and searching.

You found it quickly and pulled over one of the chairs. You flashed the phone quickly in front of his face to unlock it. He didn’t even flinch. Why would he? It was just you and your need for some level of entertainment while you ate.

He was even more grateful when all the food was gone, and you were both lying on the bed, no pillow barrier this time. Instead, there wasn’t even the pretence of extra space - there was literally just enough room for both of you on the bed.

You were lying next to him, your back pressed flush against his chest and stomach, your head on his arm, while he had the pillow. The blanket was shared, although he imagined it would end up with you.

He still didn’t care.

He could finally fall asleep listening to your breathing - the thing he hadn’t been able to do in years. He didn’t like thinking of all the random naps you had taken with him during first year. How perfectly you fit next to him after morning practices - that was buried deep somewhere in his psyche. Not even his therapist could touch those memories.

Neither of you said anything as you fell asleep together.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You woke up slowly, feeling warm first, and then noticing a familiar arm around your waist. You blinked a few times, remembering that Seungcheol had gone home.

You also never slept this well with Seungcheol. Or anyone, actually, just Mingyu.

That was one of those thoughts you really tried to stamp out in a million different ways. It was part of why you’d started seeing Seungcheol on and off.

Cheol was nice to sleep with, and kept some of your worst intrusive thoughts at bay. But he got annoyed with you when you just could not settle, when your foot kept wiggling under the blankets. You’d forgotten about that - those times when he would huff at you, and you would remember it wasn’t that serious and leave to go home.

And you would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, counting little dots. You hated admitting that there was something about Mingyu. Something about falling asleep next to him, even if it was a nap on the team bus, that had just felt natural - you weren’t sure what to call it.

Even now, when you were especially desperate to sleep, you would scroll through all the blocked numbers you accumulated from telemarketers and political campaigns to the number you knew by heart. The one you knew you couldn’t dial.

The scroll was just a sanity check because did you really want to be the one to message him after all this time and all the shitty things you had both said and done - and you would stare at the number and decide that another coffee the next day would solve your problems.

But now, here you were, lying there, letting yourself pay attention to the details. His breathing, warm and soft against your skin - his arm around your waist, holding you close - his leg tangled with yours. He was always so warm, too.

You nuzzled closer, closing your eyes and hearing the same harsh patter of rain on the roof you’d heard the night before. There was no point in making a fuss about the situation - you were stuck here until the rain cleared. The day before had been too miserable. You couldn’t imagine the trail conditions were any more favorable.

Plus, you’d been so cold the day before. That feeling of numb toes and cold skin was one you hated and didn’t miss from your time as a striker.

You sighed and pressed closer to him, wanting all the warmth he was willing to share. You felt the way he squeezed you closer. More, you felt the way his fingers barely stretched to cover more of your stomach, gently reassuring you.

You listened to the soft sounds he made as he woke up - the way he naturally pressed closer to you, like he wanted you to be the first thing he breathed in that morning. That hadn’t changed somehow - that almost natural need that you both seemed to have to be close.

That thing that neither of you had ever mentioned to one another because, thinking back, maybe you both knew what a tenuous thing it was, fragile and ephemeral.

You waited for him to realize it was you and recoil.

You hadn’t really contemplated what it would mean if he just held you closer. Much less the gentle feeling of his fingers tracing softly against the small spot of exposed skin just above your hip.

You were quiet, letting your old memories run riot.

“It’s still raining,” you murmured, not moving - you didn’t want to break whatever this was.

He hummed softly. “So we’re stuck then,” he replied, his fingers still moving in little circles against your skin.

You nodded, glancing back. “Did you tell any of them where you were going?” you asked, the thought just dawning on you.

“No,” he said, sounding surprised by the question.

“Mmh, me either,” you whispered.

“So they think we’re dead then?” he mused.

You laughed. “Knowing Joshua, probably, unless he checked with the hotel and knows that we both went hiking,” you paused, thinking, “oh, he definitely thinks we’re dead then,” you scoffed.

Mingyu nodded. “It’s the most ‘Joshua’ conclusion,” he said, reaching out for his phone, leaving you to feel the chill seep in without the protection of his arm.

You shivered. He reached for the blanket, pulling it closer to you as he turned onto his back to check his notifications. He scrolled for a few moments before sighing. “You move closer - I know you’re cold,” he offered gently.

You were still for a moment, trying to think through the pros and cons, but you really were cold. You turned over and curled against him, feeling his arm loop around your waist while he scrolled.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu didn’t mind the way you seemed to practically work your way under his shirt after he said you could be closer. It was rare for you to be anything but cold and searching for a hoodie. Even in courtrooms, you always had some kind of wrap or scarf that was virtually a small blanket.

There weren’t any messages from anyone that he was in a rush to respond to, so he hadn’t. Instead, he found a show that he’d downloaded too many seasons of when he was flying back and forth for a client at the beginning of the year. He was fairly certain that he’d lost at least the beginning of the year and probably all of spring to sitting around in the airport.

He was lost in thought and almost didn’t hear you when you asked if he was okay. He shrugged. “Just remembering why I have 13 seasons of a show downloaded,” he muttered.

You hummed, seeming to understand. “What client?”

“One in L.A.,” he grumbled. He avoided explaining ‘the one I hate and imagine killing,’ though, so according to his therapist, that was progress.

“That flight is such a bitch,” you said, your voice so soft. You sat up, though, and he immediately wondered what he had done to make you move. But you were just reaching for your phone, opening apps, and, from what he could see, checking to see what you had downloaded.

You sighed. “So murder shows, murder movies, murder documentaries that the movies are based on,” you listed them off with a raise of your brows. He wondered if you realized how close you were to him, the way you were practically sprawled across him - your face inches from his.

“Murder shows…” He shrugged because why not - he really hated his L.A. client, and the office, and the partner there, why not see what other people did to dispatch people they couldn’t stand, he wondered.

You glanced up at him, staring at him for a moment, your fingers tracing absently just beneath his collarbone. “So you were miserable before this case?”

He shrugged. “Am I supposed to be happy?”

You sighed, reaching out to smooth a piece of hair from his forehead. “At least some of the time,” you said gently.

“Hmm, I think my firm is better known for burnout and high turnover,” he grumbled as he held your gaze.

You were quiet again, watching him - it reminded him of a cat observing something it wasn’t sure about.

And suddenly you leaned in, your lips connecting softly with his.

He would have thought it was a mistake, but it didn’t stop - neither of you pulled away. Until you both did, breathing a bit harder, lips redder, pupils blown.

He felt your fingers trace along his jaw as you leaned forward, your forehead touching his, your lips a breath away from his. He watched you, his breath catching at how close you were.

He felt the pad of your finger brush the corner of his mouth and move slowly to the center of his lips, teasing him. Your gaze was too soft as your finger just barely pressed against his lips - he moaned softly, and kissed your finger.

You smiled, removing your finger and leaning in again, your fingers shifting to gently hold his jaw, and your lips barely brushed his. He whined - he didn’t want to be teased - he wanted you.

“Baby,” you murmured against his lips - your voice like honey as your lips pressed fully against his. He groaned as he squeezed your waist, realizing that he wanted you more than he had ever let himself admit.

Your lips worked slowly against his, barely parting at first, inviting him in gently. His memories of you and his imagined scenarios seemed to meld with the present. The things that had scared him were long gone.

Instead, he kissed you back, licking into you, tasting you, not caring if he was needy.

When you pulled away from him, though, the way you looked at him, the way your eyes seemed to brighten. “I want you,” you whispered, your fingers still playing against his skin.

He nodded, swallowing hard, smoothing hair from your face. “I want you too,” he murmured.

The next kiss came from him. And when he swapped your positions for the first time, he paused for a moment, grounding himself in where he was and who he was with - the way you felt. He wanted to linger there in that moment, even as he deepened the kiss, even as your thighs squeezed around his waist - he wanted to hang onto every part of it and you.

So he was purposefully slow. Slow to undress you - his hands trailing along your skin and limbs in a way that he could only hope you would understand. Slow to undress himself, even, but that was when you returned all his hesitant touches - the way you kissed him and touched him, gently holding his gaze as you did, like you had understood exactly how he had longed to have this with you.

Nothing was rushed, and when it ended, when everything slowed, when it was just you lying there beneath him, glowing, watching him and pulling his hand gently because you wanted him close, it was everything he always wanted with you. And something he could never have given you before.

Lying next to you, holding you close, breathing you in, he was almost asleep when he felt you shift to look at him. You kissed him.

“Missed you so much,” you whispered as you broke the kiss.

He nodded. “Missed you, too.”

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 ]

The rain cleared overnight, and bright, early morning sun had dried up some of the mess.

You were both quiet on the hike back, neither of you was precisely certain what the day before meant for the future.

But at least you were back in the hotel room. And the shower seemed to have endless hot water because you both took long showers.

Mingyu had nudged you to go first, and when you were out, you made him tell you what he wanted from room service before you let him close the bathroom door.

You ordered champagne too, since you had accomplished something, after all, you’d hiked the entire 28 miles.

You ate, and drank, and watched a random movie about a serial killer. All while snuggled in bed with him. Somehow, you were both suddenly shameless about how much you wanted to touch one another.

The pillow barrier didn’t return.

And even though you saw him every day the next week for the new round of depositions, there was an actual, official date planned for the following weekend. Very low key, according to Mingyu, just dinner at his place and watching movies, and the option to stay the night.

So basically kind of a perfect plan, even if you’d spent the night with him almost every night since you’d gotten back.

You told yourself that it was because the sleep was too good to pass up, not because you were making up for lost time.

a/n: eee fr hope you enjoyed it ^^ long fic yayyy...not in parts yayyyyy

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒌𝒂𝒕

♡ master list & tag list

♡ [ 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ] ★ [ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬: ( 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 ) #kat_drabbles

[ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

[ mingyu tag list ]

☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @coupsbestleader [e] ☁︎ @fleurloovin [e] ☁︎ @babybae-shisui [e] ☁︎ @asyre [e] ☁︎ @dcrlingyou [e] ☁︎ @yeosayang [e] ☁︎ @nanabananananabatman ☁︎ @yoongznme [e] ☁︎ @gyuhao365 [e] ☁︎ @jeonghnie [e] ☁︎ @armycarat2612 [e] ☁︎ @shuas-winnie30 [e] ☁︎ @famouspoetrydinosaur [e] ☁︎ @ateezaddict24 [e] ☁︎

☁︎ @aaronwarners69thwife [e + wips] ☁︎ @daisymbin [e + wips] ☁︎ @babilou-pov [e + wips] ☁︎ @sseungcheols [ e + wips ] ☁︎ @keyrecsfics [ e + one/multi & wips] ☁︎

☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @stupendouschildnerd [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @tokitosun [e - one/multi ] ☁︎ @lilydaisylily [e - one/multi] ☁︎

☁︎ @ninigyuuu [k.mg - e, b.f. priv] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [k.mg - one/multi, b.f.non] ☁︎ @sapphireserpens [k.mg - multi/priv] ☁︎

#mingyu x reader #svt x reader #mingyu angst #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu fluff #svt smut #seventeen x reader

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cremebrulekat · 2 months ago

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reblog <33

𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐟𝐭. 𝐤.𝐦𝐠

>>the one where he's an alpha who helps you through your heat

warnings: explicit language, soft-smut (penetr@tion, knotting, mentioned m@sturbation, f!ngering), omegaverse

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

summary: you need an alpha to help you through your heat, and there just happens to be a service for that - mingyu arrives and seems like he may be something more serious, though

word count: 3.7k

[unknown sender]

hi, lovely i’m messaging you from 17th heaven about our alpha services we can handle all your omega needs txt us back and give us all ur heat

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You had stared at that message a million times.

It was so corny.

You had marked it as spam before, even, but it always seemed to pop back up. It made you wonder what you had signed up for that had sold your phone number - you or someone you hated who wanted to kill you via mild annoyance.

But there were billboards for it. Ads and flyers, too. It was everywhere. You saw it when you were commuting and buying groceries - there was no escaping the painfully cute ads about ‘alphas who just want to help.’ Whatever - that was your take on it. More like alphas just looking to take advantage of omegas.

But your neighbor had even mentioned it to you when you happened to both be poolside.

“They’re really gentle,” she’d said, her face breaking into a soft smile. “I subscribed to their quarterly service,” she admitted in a whisper, like it was some guilty secret.

You had shrugged it off, even if you did consider her fairly astute. You would suffer through your heats because alphas were … generally so ick. Their second gender was their entire identity. It was part of why you lived in an omega-only building.

Even the buyer’s agreement included an alpha clause - alphas could only spend more than two nights if, and only if, they were aiding an omega through their heat, and never during an alpha’s rut. There was even a special entrance and elevator so everyone didn’t get blasted with pheromones when one of them visited.

To you, it made life easier. You worked in an alpha-dominated industry, so you got enough of their side eye and disgusting, lascivious looks.

Even when you had the same, or better, education, experience, everything - they still got to look down on you because of that stupid little box you were required to check in your HR profile. On your ID.

Everywhere you went, being an omega followed you.

You didn’t need an alpha in your personal life reminding you just how they got to constantly fail upwards and blame all their failings on their omega parent.

Instead, you saw a hormone specialist to get blocks for your scent and monthly packs of control pills to balance your heat cycles.

At this point, you had maybe two heats a year. And they only lasted for a few days at most. You weren’t dealing with them every single month. So why even bother having an alpha help with something so limited, you wondered.

But then again, you hadn’t had a heat quite like this in several years.

You’d woken up, knowing something was wrong.

Your body ached, everywhere. You were certain you could feel it in your bones, even. You were drenched in sweat, and you had this horrible need that seemed to come straight from your womb and consume your mind and body like some demonic force.

You needed an alpha.

You needed your alpha - whatever the fuck that meant for someone without one.

You tried getting off a few times, and each time you came, it was like a drop in an ocean. The pain was still there, surging through your limbs, unstoppable. You cried softly, just wanting it to end.

And that was when your phone pinged and you saw the message.

There was a number at the bottom that you quickly copied and pasted. You messaged asking about their services, and almost immediately got a call back.

The male voice on the other end of the line was gentle, asking what part of your cycle you were in (the part that hurts!), what you normally did (not that much), what methods you used (meds and toys), if you’d ever been with an alpha for your heats (a few times / not recently), did you have any preference for an alpha type (not a dick head? no one bossy).

You wanted to scream at this person for being so thorough in their job. You did start to cry a bit towards the end, which he seemed to clock, asking quickly if you were staying hydrated and eating (no, duh).

Apparently, you were considered an ‘emergency case’, which meant you got one of their ‘standby’ alphas. You had no clue what that meant. But someone would be with you quickly.

You were sent contact information for your alpha. His name, phone number, and a photo so you could verify him. There was also a code word that you provided for safety, since he needed to enter your home. You had decided on ‘mittens’ for some reason.

And within the hour, you heard the soft knock at your door. You threw on your robe and made your way to the door, groaning and doubling over in pain as you reached the door. After breathing deeply for a few breaths, you glanced through the peephole and saw that he looked like the alpha in the contact details.

You whined. “Can I just let you in or what?”

He glanced at the door. “You need to ask for your password so I can confirm it,” he said softly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “What’s my password?” You asked, your annoyance growing at something so perfunctory, even though you understood the need for things like this.

“Mittens,” he answered.

You flung the door open and waved him in, any semblance of patience was out the window.

He was dressed plainly, just jeans and a jacket over a tshirt - sneakers. His scent hit you hard, though. Salty air, and dried wood, and something a little citrusy - it was delicious. Your mouth started to water almost immediately, like your body had picked up on something from him - more than just his scent.

He glanced back at you as you closed the door. And fuck if he wasn’t handsome too. The kind of handsome that was striking - even for an alpha, he was gorgeous in a major way.

You whimpered, clutching your stomach. “Okay, what now?” You breathed.

He smiled, holding out his hand. “I’m Mingyu,” he said.

You shook his hand. “Right, yeah, sorry, Y/n,” you groaned.

“How is your pain, Y/n?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, horrible? 12 out of 10? I might be dying,” you concluded.

He nodded. “Okay, you probably aren’t dying,” he said with a soft smirk, “But you don’t have heats often?”

You shook your head, wanting badly for him to hurry through whatever this was. “No, maybe two to three times a year,” you answered flatly.

“Has your doctor explained breakthrough heats, ones like this?” He asked, his voice entirely too polite, too soft and gentle. Much more understanding than even your doctor, which was its own frustration.

You blinked at him. “What? No, I - I had to change from one type of therapy to another recently, though,” you answered, closing your eyes, wishing that you had read all the pamphlets.

He nodded. “Right, changing therapies can cause this too - it can happen this way for a few cycles and go back to being more manageable,” he said softly. More new information for you, making you whine again.

While he’d been speaking, he’d been walking closer to you. He reached out, his hand making soft contact with your forehead. You were surprised that he kissed your cheek too, a tender brush of his lips. “I’m sorry it hurts,” he murmured, his voice suspiciously sincere.

You remembered what your neighbor had said about their service being ‘gentle’ - this was almost shockingly gentle. The way he cupped your cheek and held you for a moment, just gazing into your eyes. You told yourself it was just probably to know if your pupils were dilated.

He stroked your cheek, though. “Have you eaten?”

You shook your head.

He nodded, still gazing at you softly. “Will you show me where you’re nesting?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch, realizing how badly you wanted the contact - how badly you wanted him, maybe. Even what he was doing was soothing somehow.

You didn’t want him to stop touching you.

He kissed your temple, like he knew what you were thinking. “I’m right here, everything’s okay, promise,” he whispered, his voice low and sweet, as his arms looped around your waist, hugging you close for a moment.

You noticed the way he pulled you gently into him - the soft kiss he pressed to your temple. It was the first moment you felt somewhat relaxed. You held his shoulder, squeezing it.

After a few moments, he let you go, and you led him to your bedroom. Your nest was unbelievably half-assed, just some blankets from your sofa - ones you liked, but still, it wasn’t the kind of nest you would see in any omega magazine. But you rarely had heats like this. You didn’t have a bunch of clothes from a mate or anything like that. You just had blankets that were cozy.

You sighed and sat on the bed, glancing at him like he might be judging you for being a ‘bad’ omega.

“Does this like go into my notes or something? ‘Bad at nesting’?” You asked.

He shook his head. “No, and a nest - it’s just wherever you feel safe and comfortable,” he said, walking closer, reaching out, his fingers going gently to your temples, rubbing small circles.

Your eyes closed. This was nothing like your last time with an alpha.

“Is your pain still as bad?” He asked after a few moments.

“It doesn’t have so much of an edge, but it’s still there,” you whispered, leaning into him again. It was a strange feeling to crave someone’s touch.

“Do you want to try some different things?” He asked.

Your brows knitted. “Different how?” You asked skeptically.

You could hear his small laugh. “Um, things like massage - touch that isn’t necessarily sexual,” he explained, “But it can also help calm you down and get used to me, too,” he added.

You nodded, understanding what he meant. Some omegas could have intense reactions to alphas they weren’t partnered with - even if they were close to one another normally. Heats could be a strange time for an omega, though.

“That sounds like a good place to start,” you murmured.

You listened to him when he asked you to move back onto the bed. Lying there, you closed your eyes and listened to him moving around.

You heard him undressing, the soft landing of his jeans on the hardwood. You felt the lightest touch against your ankle. “Turn over for me?”

You did what he asked, and felt the bed shift as he joined you.

“Is it okay for me to touch you?” His voice was soft.

You nodded, still surprised by the careful way he was approaching you. He smoothed your hair to the side and pulled the collar of your robe down. You shifted, freeing your arms from the silk, feeling it trail down your back as he exposed your skin.

He smoothed oil over your shoulders and down your back. His hands felt amazing as they traced over your skin, squeezing gently in certain places, like your shoulders. You could feel some of your muscles relaxing. And you understood what he meant about touch helping, as some of the pain began to ebb.

You sighed, soaking in his touch.

“Is it okay?” he asked.

You nodded.

He wasn’t applying any intense pressure, just enough to soothe you, and for you to be surrounded by his scent. You were surprised by how much stronger it had become since he had arrived, actually.

“Do you feel okay with me doing more?”

Again, you nodded.

When his lips brushed the nape of your neck, though, you felt a warmth tingle through you. You moaned softly.

The sound seemed to work like an invitation for him. He kissed along your shoulder, biting you gently, just the pressure of his canines against your skin made you shiver and ache in a new way - a sweet way.

You could feel how hard he was getting behind you. His cock heavy against your lower back. You wanted to feel that heaviness buried inside you.

He moved, his lips trailing to your throat, kissing and licking. You gasped, mumbling his name as you reached back, letting your fingers catch in his hair. You felt his hips grind gently into your back.

“So beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, kissing down your spine. “Lovely little omega,” he breathed, “want to breed you full,” he whispered, “give you all my pups.”

You shivered, hearing his voice so close and his words that seemed to resonate deeper than you wanted to think about.

His hands traced down your ribs and sides as he spoke - down and under your hips, pulling your ass back and up. You could feel his dick pulsing against you as his hands slid to grasp your inner thighs. You felt his hips rut into you more seriously.

You tugged his hair gently, moaning and whimpering with need. “Please,” you asked softly, “hurts - needs to be full,” you whined with a gasp as you felt his fingers shift and start to tease you open.

“I know,” he mumbled, “I can feel just how much you need me - so wet - smell so sweet, too,” he said, still teasing and kissing your throat.

You shivered, loving his voice, his touch, the way his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. You wanted to sink back on his fingers, his dick, anything really. Whatever he would give you.

His fingers pushed into you - you didn’t care how obscene it sounded. You were leaking slick, your pussy weeping to be full. You heard his breath catch as he forced his fingers deeper - the soft way he sighed as he worked his fingers deeper into your core. You hadn’t expected that - for him to be sound like he was enjoying it so much.

“Taking me so well,” he said under his breath.

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Feels so good,” you breathed.

You weren’t sure why, but you had assumed it would be clinical and stiff, or someone who was rough, too rough, probably.

But he was neither.

He was gentle, listening to every sound you made for him, seeming to be just as turned on as you were and just as needy for you to come.

It barely took a few minutes for you to orgasm around his fingers - you were dripping for him already. And it was such a relief. Such an intense relief - it was like you could breathe again. He hugged you, pressing close, his fingers still working inside you, knowing you could keep coming.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, swallowing loudly. You nodded, mewling softly as another orgasm started to build.

You came with a small cry, “Oh, fuck.” You whined, shivering and trembling, his fingers still inside you.

“Shh, doing so well, pet,” he said, his voice reassuring. “Just relax for me, let me take care of you,” he whispered.

You nodded, already soft and pliant in his arms and on the precipice of another orgasm.

You came again, almost soundless besides your breathing. He finally sat up, and moved to turn you over. You watched the way he looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body like he was memorizing you. It was almost like a caress.

He leaned down, kissing you. His lips soft against yours. He pulled back slowly, his fingers grazing your jaw as he gazed down at you. “Any cravings?”

You blinked. “Besides you?” You flushed, wondering where that response came from.

He smirked. “Besides me,” he smiled, looking pleased. “You need to eat,” he whispered, as he smoothed your hair.

You nodded, trying to think. You hummed softly, leaning into his hand. “Name some foods,” you said, half-teasing, but he started to list things off anyway.

⊹ ₊ ݁.

You ended up with a burger and fries. It was perfect, though. A perfect break. He showered with you while you waited for food and sat eating with you in your living room.

When you were finished, you climbed into his lap, still needy, still wanting touch. His touch. You nuzzled into him, you could swear his scent was more intense, almost slightly sweet around the edges.

You sighed, nuzzling against his throat. “How does it work? Do you stay?” You asked, voice barely audible.

He nodded. “Until you’re through it, yeah,” he answered, his fingers trailing through your hair.

You hummed softly. You wanted to ask him things, like why he was so kind - why he was so gentle. You wondered what the job description was, even. But you didn’t. That small inner voice of doubt kept you from asking anything that might be meaningful.

He held you close the rest of the night. He slept next to you. And when you woke up crying during the night, he held you close, fucking you tenderly until your tears slowed. He held you delicately, filling you with every thrust.

You could feel his knot growing. You trailed your fingers through his hair, staring up at him, holding his gaze. “Please,” you breathed.

He licked his lips. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Need it, need you, need my alpha,” you said, groaning at the way he started to push in further. You had no idea how big his knot was, but you could feel yourself stretching to take him. You wanted every bit of him.

You whimpered, coming when he did, feeling your body finally relaxing, giving in as his knot filled you, calming you, keeping everything inside, just like it was supposed to be.

You fell asleep like that.

⊹ ₊ ݁.

You woke up to him still holding you. His scent surrounded you like a soft blanket. You didn’t want to move. It was strange, the feeling of not wanting to part from someone. Worse was the deeper feeling that it would hurt when you did. It made you anxious, the idea that he would leave after another day or so. You guessed that you would probably never see him again.

He sighed gently. “Don’t worry,” he whispered as his fingers traced gently against your side.

You swallowed tightly, knowing you hadn’t said anything out loud. You had only thought those things. And he had answered you. He nuzzled closer, murmuring for you to try to sleep, to rest. You nodded, hoping sleep would clear your mind.

⊹ ₊ ݁.

When you woke up for the second time, there was breakfast, and sex, and movies, and cuddling, and sex, and lunch, and so on. You fell asleep after he knotted you late that night.

And things started to ebb the second morning with him. And by the third morning, you started to feel almost normal.

You were still sad for him to leave, though. You tried telling yourself that you were just a client - he did this with other omegas. It was his job to be nice to you - he could hate you and be really good at hiding it.

None of that mattered, though - you didn’t want him to leave. And you had no idea how to tell him either.

It was painful to walk him to the door. You were still holding his hand, even as he crossed the threshold. He squeezed your hand gently, telling you it would be ‘okay.’ You managed to hold back your tears until the door was firmly closed.

You sat in your hallway, miserable, a different kind of ache settling over you than what you had started with. You sat there for a long time, wondering if you were right about what you had felt. You closed your eyes tightly, telling yourself it wasn’t real.

You stood up and tried going about your day, catching up on emails. But you were still feeling a bit tired and sore, so you’d taken a nap in what was left of your nest. His scent was still there, soothing you, even if he was gone. You prayed it would last, that his scent would linger. You weren’t sure you could sleep without it.

And when you woke up to hear rain pelting against your windows - it was like the weather had decided to match your mood. You felt dispondent, lying there, knowing you needed to wash your sheets.

You decided that you couldn’t hang on to him. That you were being unreasonable. And that you probably needed to eat.

But even walking into your kitchen, it smelled like him. The air smelled like him. You almost cried. Because you didn’t believe in mates and finding someone with that scent that stuck in your mind - that one scent that was only ever meant for you - the one that you could follow through a crowd of people if you needed to because it would always lead you to him.

You leaned against the counter, wondering what you were even supposed to do - it was a service and not for matchmaking. You sighed, trying to collect yourself. Trying to forget his scent and the way he seemed to read your mind at various points.

You finally started looking for food. And that was when you found his parting gift.

He’d left you food, something he made while you were sleeping. You were surprised to find the lemon cake waiting for you. Something citrusy and sweet. It almost hurt to look at.

But then you saw the note he’d left, too. And there was his number written neatly, and a more hastily written message, like he’d been uncertain about leaving it at all - a last minute decision.

He’d asked you to call him if it had felt ‘real’ to you too.

You stared at it, reading it more than once. Checking the paper to make sure it was real and not something your mind had created.

You tried to play it cool. You told yourself that you would wait a few days.

But that hadn’t lasted. You made it all of ten minutes before texting him and asking him if he had plans for dinner.

Because it had felt very real for you.

a/n: just something cute and quick - i've wanted to write omegaverse with him for a while now ^^

plus i love when he's being bg with his cuteness on display

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒌𝒂𝒕

♡ master list & tag list

♡ [ 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ] ★ [ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬: ( 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 )

[ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

drunk pda + no underwear || enemies to lovers + tentacles [sci-fi/kink] (reader fav) / (my fav) || internet friends + blind date + size kink (my fav) || ceo/boss + big flirt x easily flustered + age difference (my fav) || playing hearts (college au | camboy au) (reader fav)

[ mingyu tag list - one shots ]

☁︎ @aaronwarners69thwife [e + wips] ☁︎ @daisymbin [e + wips] ☁︎ @babilou-pov [e + wips] ☁︎ @sseungcheols [ e + wips ] ☁︎ @keyrecsfics [ e + one/multi & wips] ☁︎

☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @stupendouschildnerd [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @tokitosun [e - one/multi ] ☁︎ @lilydaisylily [e - one/multi] ☁︎

☁︎ @ninigyuuu [k.mg - e, b.f. priv] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [k.mg - one/multi, b.f.non]

#mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu fanfic #mingyu x you #seventeen x y/n #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu smut #kim mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x you

505 notes · View notes

cremebrulekat · 2 months ago

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archive mingyu post