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Okay so…

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on hiatus.

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i saw someone point out that they’re the same hair length… (first pic credit)

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𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 ૮ ꒰˵• ᵜ •˵꒱ ა ⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ duh ₊˚⊹ ⭑.ᐟ

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we have a first-hand account. raver!mingi is in fact, canon. *smooches* thanks pookie ily tooooo <3

Imagine going to a rave w mingi, him grinding you for behind, face buried in the crook of ur neck, the smoke around, the smell. I need raver!mingi sooooo bad 😫😫😫😫😫

raver!boyfriend!mingi ૮ ꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀི ა ₊ ˚ ⊹

tw: 18+ mdni, rave sex, public sex, mention of drugs

i just know he's topless, sweating, horny and high off his fucking head. mans running on adrenaline, off-white sunnies, a slab of sunscreen you had to force-lather on his body, and a jeans pocket with the essentials; his vape, your lip gloss and a bag—talk about raver boyfriend of the year.

you're having the best time of your life, bouncing up and down in the tiniest bralette and the shortest fucking booty shorts like a walking piece of candy, so fucking cute and clueless. and look, mingi's all for his girl being confident and comfy at raves but god does he want to fuck you stupid right then and there.

you're no fool to mingi's antics. he's been grinding on you for the past hour, hands gripping your hips, lips on your neck leaving sloppy kisses you had to physically tear yourself away from him or you'll actually end up fucking. "baby, please, not now." it's a meek warning. the fact that you can't even hide how hot and flustered you are makes his dick throb even harder. you're so small, so easy to hide. plus it's nighttime and the musics so deafening you can't even hear your own breathing. all he has to do is pull ur shorts to the side and whisper sweet nothings in your ear; "it's fine, baby, no one will know and no one gives a fuck. c'mon, let's have some fun." sweet, sweet nothings. "i know you want it."

and you give in.

"f-fuck baby– you make me so fucking horny. needa fuck this pussy bad." mingi's gone. his breathing's ragged, hair wet with sweat, teeth nipping the skin below your ear as he ruts into your ass; subtle and slow but deep enough to knock a strangled gasp out your throat with every thrust he forces you to take. "so good for me, fuck, you enjoying this, baby?" he chuckles. you scan the crowd, eyes darting in fear, thrill burning through your veins as you desperately cling onto every last thread of self-control; a futile attempt to seem lowkey. who tf are you kidding. there's nothing lowkey about getting fucked standind up by your six foot horny hunk of a boyfriend at an edm rave but mingi's right—no one gives a fuck.

m.list

a/n: bring back defqon1 (i've never even been to one)

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yall want fluffy barista!mingi ? 😜

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oh ok.

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something about mingi screams primal idk how to put it

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Imagine going to a rave w mingi, him grinding you for behind, face buried in the crook of ur neck, the smoke around, the smell. I need raver!mingi sooooo bad 😫😫😫😫😫

raver!boyfriend!mingi ૮ ꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀི ა ₊ ˚ ⊹

tw: 18+ mdni, rave sex, public sex, mention of drugs

i just know he's topless, sweating, horny and high off his fucking head. mans running on adrenaline, off-white sunnies, a slab of sunscreen you had to force-lather on his body, and a jeans pocket with the essentials; his vape, your lip gloss and a bag—talk about raver boyfriend of the year.

you're having the best time of your life, bouncing up and down in the tiniest bralette and the shortest fucking booty shorts like a walking piece of candy, so fucking cute and clueless. and look, mingi's all for his girl being confident and comfy at raves but god does he want to fuck you stupid right then and there.

you're no fool to mingi's antics. he's been grinding on you for the past hour, hands gripping your hips, lips on your neck leaving sloppy kisses you had to physically tear yourself away from him or you'll actually end up fucking. "baby, please, not now." it's a meek warning. the fact that you can't even hide how hot and flustered you are makes his dick throb even harder. you're so small, so easy to hide. plus it's nighttime and the musics so deafening you can't even hear your own breathing. all he has to do is pull ur shorts to the side and whisper sweet nothings in your ear; "it's fine, baby, no one will know and no one gives a fuck. c'mon, let's have some fun." sweet, sweet nothings. "i know you want it."

and you give in.

"f-fuck baby– you make me so fucking horny. needa fuck this pussy bad." mingi's gone. his breathing's ragged, hair wet with sweat, teeth nipping the skin below your ear as he ruts into your ass; subtle and slow but deep enough to knock a strangled gasp out your throat with every thrust he forces you to take. "so good for me, you enjoying this, baby?" he chuckles. you scan the crowd, eyes darting in fear, thrill burning through your veins as you desperately cling onto every last thread of self-control; a futile attempt to seem lowkey. who tf are you kidding. there's nothing lowkey about getting fucked standind up by your six foot horny hunk of a boyfriend at an edm rave but mingi's right—no one gives a fuck.

m.list

a/n: bring back defqon1 (i've never even been to one)

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raver!mingi is so canon. i just want to rave with him pls just once chance mingi just once chance.

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The thighs..THE FUCKING THIGHS

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pining ;

pairing: jongseob x fem!reader ✫ wc: 1k ✫ fluff, suggestive ✫ warnings: mentions of alcohol, cigarettes and drug use. reader is the same age as intak. intak mentioned ✫ synopsis: seob pines for you like a desperate pup.

♩: do or die (remix) - dpr cream

jongseob thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes upon. from the way you smile to the air of cool-headedness you exude with every breath you take to the way your body gently rocks to the rhythmic synth of the deafening edm hits—jongseob is enamoured. captured wholly by the intoxicating tuberose that bounces off your hair with every toss and turn of your pretty little head. your pretty little face that sets his heart in disarray with every eye contact you make from the crowded dance floor. eyes seemingly taunting his; an invitation?

“just fucking go up there and kiss her already,” intak slurs, downing a fifth shot of whatever blue liquor he just swallowed—curacao and tequila? gross.

jongseob smirks, staring longingly into the sea of bodies. “it’s not what you think.”

you're too perfect.

from his left, a giggly jiung leaps from the booth and makes a dash towards the dancefloor. soul joins him, but not before knocking over two bottles of half-drunken peach-flavoured soju off the table on his way out. this triggers a distressed yell from keeho. “hey, watch it—soul, come back! you’re drunk!” 

jongseob watches closely as his two friends join you and your girlfriend on the dancefloor, bodies bouncing to the electro-pop bass, your laughter merging as one with the music. crazy, he thinks, how much he wants to whisk you away right then and there and tell you how achingly tight his chest feels watching you dance the night away with another man who isn’t him. how fucking lightheaded your presence makes him feel. how much he wants you and only you. 

“i don’t understand why you can’t just go up to her and tell her how you feel,” keeho says, leaning back into the plush velvet of the booth that he paid five grand for in honour of theo’s birthday. “worst case scenario, she rejects you. that’s it. move on. life goes on.”

“word,” theo mutters. jongseob can’t tell if he’s serious or just high off his head.

“give me that.” keeho snatches jongseob’s drink from his hand. “go.” he motions him to the dancefloor. 

jongseob stares at the older man in disbelief, words caught in his throat. “i can’t—”

“yes, you fucking can,” intak blurts. “‘cause if you don’t, i’ll make her mine by the end of the night.” 

jongseob glares.

“what,” intak smirks, “you think you’re the only one?”

jongseob feels his stomach sink in rage. of course. how fucking gullible of him. you were friends with intak long before he introduced you to rest of the boys just over a year ago at a college fair. the first time he met you, he saw stars. not in your eyes but in the entirety of you. you glowed ever so mesmerisingly and even more so when you smiled and said ‘hi’. so soft, so faint—your voice. you smelled like the dawn in spring. it irked him how close you are with intak; it irked him even more that he’s younger than you. a part of him knows it’s stupid to factor in your age gap of two years, but a part of him can't help but feel he can never stand a chance for your hand, let alone your heart. not when intak is the competition.

jongseob gets up and leaves the table. he slides a hand in the back pocket of his jeans, fingers fumbling for his lighter and a cigarette but before he could pull neither out, a force knocks the air out of chest and he's eye to eye with you. your skin glistens in a thin layer of sweat, your white tank top hugs your body in just the right places, lacy bralette peaking out from the neckline.

"hey, pretty boy." a silly grin graces your lips, "come dance with me!"

you pull him into the crowd, your bodies moving along to the music but jongseob is quiet. his eyes stare into yours with a kind of intensity that makes you wither. and you would've if not for his arm around your waist, holding you upright. the harsh denim of his acid-wash baggy jeans brushes against your bare thighs with every sway of your hips as he slowly manoeuvres your bodies through the crowd and into a shadows of a quieter hallway where the heavy bass becomes distant echoes. the stinging coldness of his silver rings against your bare back sends ripples up your spine. under the glowering red lights, you spot his bridge piercing from beneath the blonde strands of his straight, tousled hair; two silver studs between his eyes, matching the one on his lower lip.

you force yourself to look away.

head hazy. you can't think. maybe it's the music, or the little line you did earlier with intak in the men's bathroom. but it can't be, he swore it's uncut.

"having fun, angel?" jongseob mutters against your ear, pulling your body to his.

maybe it's seob.

"hmm," you slur, smiling up at him, arms around his neck, "you miss me, seobie?"

jongseob shudders at your touch, eyes half-closing, addicted to the way his name rolls off your tongue ever so endearingly. so what if he does? so what if he's possessive. so what if he's crazy for wanting you all to himself. at least he's true. and god knows he'd kill for you. can intak?

you run your finger ever so gently along his lips, feeling the coldness of his lip piercing against your touch. the world around you fades into nothingness when seob leans down and kisses you. and kisses you. and kisses you. you finally give in to his touch as he drinks your moans like it's water, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he deepens the kiss, pushing you roughly against the stone cold wall. skirt hiked up, hair a fucking mess. fuck, fuck, fuck. you really can't think now. seob smirks, lazily dragging his kiss along your jawline and down your neck. "say you don't love him," he murmurs lowly against your skin, breath hot and heavy against your neck. "say it."

you're puzzled, still drunk from his touch, "seob, i–"

"tell me i'm yours," seob reiterates, this time almost pleadingly, eyes pining and desperate as they probe yours for validation.

you connect your lips with his, basking in the scent of warm vetiver that clings to his skin; earthy and floral. your heart is his. "you're mine, baby boy."

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hellooooooo how are you doing 💕

life's been busy but i wanted to check up on you 🥺

🪼 anon

heyyy boo life's been busy for me too :( i hate my job. but i managed to pop out a new mingi fic hehe

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CAN'T HAVE YOU BUT I'LL MAKE YOU MINE

bodyguard!mingi x fem!reader. tw: extreme pining, possessive mingi, slightly suggestive. wc: 0.3k

🎧 : night time ride - one

the rule was laid out from the start.

mingi can't have you.

his place is in your shadows and yours is, well, not where he belongs. you're untouchable, darling—your parents' most prized possession; an emerald in a chest of gold, wrapped in silk and buried deep, hidden away from eyes that pry. and yet, no one—nothing gets to you without going through him.

mingi takes a twisted kind of pride in his duty, guarding you with a devotion that cuts deeper than it should. your safety means everything to him; not a bruise, not a paper cut, not a breath out of place under his watch. he's always there, always a step behind, invisible. he keeps his distance, never disrupting your world more than necessary, his presence felt only when it's required. it's a delicate balance he mastered—slipping in and out of rooms like cold wind at the crack of dawn. untraceable, almost ghostly.

and for a time, it was enough.

he was content being unseen as long as he can see you. at galas, tennis lessons, cocktail parties, nightclubs, your favourite cafe, private auctions, your room.

he relished being the closest thing to you; the only man close enough to breathe in the warm freesia that tangles in your hair, to know you despise cherry-scented candles, to glimpse the stretch marks on your hips when he tucks you in bed, the only man you'd let touch you.

mingi's rarely seen, but you can feel him in every waking hour, every room you walk into. his secret, your secret. there's something so intimate, forbidden almost, about the relationship you've grown to have with your bodyguard. your stolen glances at him in the elevator, his solemn gaze on you from across the room. he doesn't need to hear you say a word to know what's on your mind and that frightens you.

your parents trust mingi, they think you get along just fine. but fuck do they know how violently he yearns for their daughter.

if only they know the way he looks at you when they're not around. the hunger in his eyes, the amount of self-restraint it takes to hold himself back from breaking their most precious jewel. it eats at him, gnaws at his chest knowing you'll never truly be his. and he knows it's wrong, so wrong, that it can never be true but he longs for your eyes to linger on him just a bit longer, not a glance. your touch, not by accident but on purpose. your voice calling his name with a kind of sacred endearment only reserved for lovers.

he wants you. all of you.

and god, he wants you to want him too. even if neither of you should. fuck, especially because neither of you should.

© seobinghard 2025. all rights reserved. / m.list

a/n: it's 11:20pm i need to pop a magnesium n sleep byeee

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i need short hair undercut mingi back. idgaf what hair colour he does i need short hair undercut mingi back neowwww

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