To Boil A Frog

to boil a frog

pairing: seungcheol x reader wordcount: 15.6k summary: you & cheol go back, like way back. growing up together, you never felt anything more for him than a proximity based fondness, but things are a little different since you moved back to town. genre/themes: tattoo artist!coups, childhood acquaintances to lovers. brother’s best friend (but it’s not so much a theme as it is just a statement of fact). S L O W B U R N. idk that this is even fluff but more like just romance? mention of alcohol, tattoos, needles…cat?

a/n: truly idk what this is and why. it’s so long & self indulgent, but i’m in my soft era i guess, hah!

“Hi, I’m here for my tattoo with Seungcheol?” you checked in with the unfairly stylish receptionist at the front desk of the tattoo and piercing studio. “I booked for 3pm.”

“Okay, yes, here you are!” they smiled up at you, “If you want to just take a seat, I’ll see how he’s doing with prepping the room.”

“Perfect!” you smiled before moving towards the waiting area.

    Your foot bounced excitedly as you waited. In addition to being excited to get your first tattoo, you were doubly excited because you had history with Seungcheol. He’d been one of your brother’s closest friends growing up and despite not keeping in touch since they’d left for college, you’d really enjoyed following his artistic evolution on social media. You weren’t sure if he’d recognize you anymore, to be honest. It would be funnier if he didn’t.

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Thirteen Boys in the Forest Masterlist

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Meet The Parents | kmg x f!reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.2k

Summary: Mingyu is meeting your parents today, and it absolutely must go well. So why are you teasing him like this?

For May 💖 happy early birthday i love and adore you

Warnings: meeting the parents, wine and food mention, brief talk of the future and kids, suggestive thoughts, mingyu is horny and in love, fingering, marking, car sex, semi public sex, creampie

AN: not everyone has two parents that are still together (i know i don’t) but for the purpose of this story, reader does 

Mingyu’s left hand tightens on the steering wheel, the fingers of his right tensing on your thigh, as he navigates the streets of the neighborhood you grew up in. You’ve been pointing things out to him - the tree you broke your ankle climbing in the sixth grade, the house your childhood best friend lived in, the cul de sac that had the best halloween candy - and he wishes he was less nervous so he could fully enjoy all these little memories with you. 

But how could he not be nervous? He’s had two hours to think about this and now he’s minutes away from meeting the people who made you, and he loves you, and he has to make a good first impression! Usually, parents love him because of his winning smile and polite manners, but yours may feel differently. It doesn’t help that you’re wearing that skirt, the one that sits all pretty on your luscious thighs, the one that makes you look like a princess, the one that he fucked you in just last week. 

Mingyu doesn’t want his mind to go there, but as soon as the thought pops into his head, he’s picturing the way he bent you over the kitchen table and flipped the skirt up only to find you bare, and how he dropped to his knees and made you cum on his tongue and fingers before finally giving you his cock. He remembers how you felt wrapped around him, how you begged and pleaded for him to cum inside of you, how you cried when fucked his seed back in with his fingers after it started to drip out of your perfect little pussy. 

Fuck, he’s getting hard, and according to you, your house is only three streets away. He wills his mind to return to the safe zone, the zone that doesn’t make him want to pull over and fuck you in the backseat in broad daylight, but the warmth and softness of your thigh under his hand just reminds him how warm and soft you are all over. There’s not much time left, and the only thing he can think to do is remove his hand from your thigh and attempt to think about terrible, horrible, awful things. 

Your hair in the shower drain, that one episode of My Strange Addiction, the time he lost so bad in Overwatch that he cried, and he’s back. 

Just in time too, as he takes a right and rolls to a slow stop in front of your parent’s house. He pulls in a deep breath, shifts to park, and turns the car off before looking at you. You’re already staring with a sweet smile on your face and he can feel his cheeks heat, feel his heart start to race, feel his shoulders bunch up by his ears. 

Even after six months together, having your full attention on him makes him feel bashful for some reason. Maybe it’s because you’re his dream girl, maybe it’s because he knows just how lucky he is to be with you, maybe it’s because he feels like you can see straight into his big, fat, full-of-love-for-you heart. Maybe it’s all three, but he can’t complain when the very fact that he gets shy around you is evidence he gets to be around you. 

He feels your hand squeeze his arm, shakes himself out of the stupor he falls into when he looks at you for too long, and nods when you ask him if he’s ready to get out of the car. He’s not, but he doesn’t think he ever will be so now’s as good a time as any. 

He also doesn’t want to keep your parents waiting, knowing that punctuality is a hallmark of a good, respectable boyfriend, as is running around his sedan at a near comical speed so he can open your door before you do. Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him from your seat in his car and he tries to pretend the hand he offers you isn’t shaking, but assumes he’s not successful as your expression softens into something fond. 

“They’ll love you, Mingyu,” you promise him, giving his hand a squeeze to emphasize your point as you climb out and stand. Your free hand rises to fix his hair, and suddenly that’s something else he’s nervous about. He got his hair cut just for this, just to meet your parents, and he feels a bit exposed without the long waves covering his ears and neck. He does like how you fuss over him though, and it’s nice to be able to fuck your brains out without his hair getting in his eyes and obscuring his view of you, so there are two pros to the one con. 

“Alright, you look so handsome, and you’re such a good boyfriend, and you’ll impress the shit out of them!” You quietly hype him up before asking, “Wanna go inside?”

He takes in a trembling breath, nods, and looks to your front door only to find it open, with your parents standing just outside the threshold. His ears flame at the knowledge that they’d witnessed this little moment between him and their daughter, but at least he didn’t try to cop one last feel in front of them too. 

They wave, and he smiles and waves back, and then you and him are walking up the driveway hand in hand. There’s no time to back out now, not that he wants to, and all he can do is hope and pray and wish and manifest that this goes well, because it has to. 

Dinner goes smoothly enough, Mingyu thinks. 

Your parents worked together to make all the food, and Mingyu even recognizes some of the dishes as things you’ve made for him before. He figured you learned how to cook while you were growing up because you’re such a natural in the kitchen, and this is confirmation. It’s also a glimpse into the future he wants to have with you, one where you make things together and share them with people you love. 

Your dad doesn’t grill him like he expects, instead drawing him into a conversation about the merits of college basketball, which gives him an opportunity to share the experience of being on his university’s team. It lights your dad up, the fact that Mingyu played in college, and he spends half of dinner asking about Mingyu’s favorite teams. 

Your mom asks a lot of questions about his family: how his mom is, what his parents do for work, if he has any siblings, if he wants kids and if he does, how many. The last question throws him for a bit of a loop, but he recovers soon enough, answering, “I do, but how many isn’t just my decision.” 

That seems to be the correct response, her face relaxing into a soft smile before she looks at you and winks. He doesn’t know what the wink means but assumes it’s something good, and the tight feeling in his chest starts to abate. 

Once they’ve inquired about everything they want to know, the conversation tilts to you. Your parents haven’t seen you in a couple months - the two hour drive is hard to incorporate into your schedule - and though you talk regularly, there’s still catching up to do. You tell them how it’s going at your new job, how your coworkers are kind but nosy, and how your boss is demanding and strict. They hear about the dog you fell in love with while you were volunteering at the shelter, and about how your circle of friends is doing, and about how Rachel just keeps getting back together with Sean no matter how much you tell her he won’t change. 

Mingyu listens attentively, practically hanging on your every word as if he hasn’t heard all of this before, and it’s only when you stand to get another bottle of wine that he remembers what you’re wearing. 

The sight of your thighs sends him spiraling, your skirt brushing over them like he wishes his hands could, and he clenches the silverware in his fists, praying that his sudden want isn’t obvious. He averts his eyes when you return, stares down at his nearly empty plate as if it holds all the secrets to the universe, and looks up only when you place a hand on his shoulder and ask if he wants another glass. 

He doesn’t trust his voice, doesn’t think his answer won’t come out hoarse with the way his throat has tightened with lust, so he just shakes his head. More wine will only make it worse, the taste of the red on his tongue already reminding him of the last time you got wine drunk together. You made it through two bottles before he pulled you into his lap, pushed his thigh between your legs, and helped you grind back and forth until you soaked his sweats. 

Groaning in his mind, he tugs at the legs of his jeans, trying to give himself more room as blood rushes down into his cock. It doesn’t help that you lean over the table to pour wine into your parents’ glasses, giving him a peek at the panties you’ve got on today. Just by the little bit of color and fabric he sees, he knows they’re his favorite pair, and suddenly he’s all too aware that you did this on purpose. 

Wore his favorite skirt and his favorite panties and bent over just a bit more than you needed to, just so he could see. You’re so evil but so fucking hot, and, swallowing the smirk, Mingyu decides to come up with a little plan of his own. 

When you sit back down, he splays a big hand over your thigh, his touch low enough to seem innocent but high enough to tease you. Through the rest of the meal, he dotes on you. Runs his thumb along your soft skin, praises your brilliant mind and work ethic, presses a kiss to your cheek when your parents aren’t looking. He knows you love his attention, love when he shows how obsessed he is with you, but he also knows you know his increased affections usually lead to one of two things. 

Him dragging you to bed to cuddle you until you fall asleep, or him dragging you to bed and fucking you into the mattress. 

Neither of those things are possible here, but he’s hoping he can rile you up enough that you get a taste of your own medicine. 

“Honey, why don’t you give Mingyu a tour while your father and I clear the table?” Your mom suggests, making you jump. You must have been zoning out, and he can only hope you were thinking about what he’s been thinking about. If not, he’ll just have to accept that he’s the horny one in this relationship. It’s a cross he’s willing to bear, especially if it means you always know how much he wants you. 

Your thigh flexes under his palm and he gives you a squeeze, his fingers digging in a bit too much to pass as a show of affection rather than a sign of want. 

“Yeah, mom, that sounds good.”

You stand quickly, your chair scratching on the hardwood, and his hand falls to his own lap as he looks up at you. Your pupils are dilated and you look slightly frazzled, but you compose yourself quickly and hold your hand out, waiting for him to take it before pulling him up from his chair and tugging him from the dining room. He follows at a sedate pace, his long legs allowing him to easily keep up with you as you lead him to the stairs. 

He loses the upper hand here, his eyes instantly drawn to the way your ass moves under your skirt with each step climbed. Stairs have always been a treacherous place for him due to his clumsiness, but he never knew he’d be in danger like this. By the time you make it to the top, he’s half hard and nearly panting, and it takes everything in him not to push you up against the wall and drop to his knees. 

The look you give him when you turn around tells him you know, and the smirk that stretches your lips tells him he’s in for even more trouble. You back up to a door, one covered in drawings and stickers, and place your hand on the knob, slowly turning it and backing into the room. 

“This was my bedroom, can you tell?” You ask innocently, your eyes slowly traversing the posters and stuffed animals you’d left behind. He takes one stilted step, then another, crossing the threshold and feeling like he’s entering the lion’s den, except this den has pink walls and a princess bed and this lion has his heart. 

You sit on the bed, the mattress bouncing with your weight, and smooth your skirt out over your plush thighs. He can hear your parents puttering about in the kitchen, hear the buzz of their easy conversation, hear the warning bells in his mind telling him not to come any closer to you. But he’s never been good at listening to those warnings, so he walks further into the room, his eyes stuck on you rather than the decor he should be taking in. 

You pat the spot next to you, your face open and patient as you wait for him to join you. It feels like a mistake, sinking down onto the covers beside you, but it’s too late to change his mind now. He’ll just have to hope you don’t try anything because his restraint is already razor thin and stretched far past capacity. 

“Are you thinking about it yet?” You whisper, your dulcet voice sounding like a devil on his shoulder. 

“Thinking about what?” He responds, though he dreads knowing the answer. 

“Fucking me in this bed.”

You sound nonchalant, unbothered, but he can see the desire in your eyes, knows you’re just as hot for him as he is for you. He also knows you’re teasing yourself as well as him, because you’re both fully aware there’s no way he’s fucking you in your parents’ house. 

Not while they’re home, at least. 

“Baby, please,” he begs in a hushed voice. “I’m trying to make a good impression.”

“You already have, Gyu. They love you, just like I said they would,” you drop the act just long enough to reassure him, sensing the anxiety in his words and kindly attempting to set him at ease. It doesn’t really work, his nerves are too fried and his body's too wired, both from meeting your parents and from having to endure the war you’ve decided to wage on him. 

He’s thankful you’ve seemingly decided to back off, his heart slowly returning to a normal pace and his lungs able to fill with air again. Until you open your mouth and say something else. 

“How about you fuck me on the way home?”

Shit. Now he’s thinking about you, spread out over the hood of his car, crying as he thrusts into you over and over and over. You, halfway in the backseat as he takes you from behind. You, riding him in the driver’s seat until he fills you up. You, you, you. Always you. 

He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the dirty thoughts that keep invading his mind, but how is he supposed to do that when you’re staring at him like you are and saying the things you’re saying? 

Even worse is the fact that he knows that’s exactly what he’ll do, fuck you on the way home. Whether it’s in the car or in the nicest motel he can find for you, he’s going to be balls deep inside of you just like you want. 

You must sense his resolve crumbling because you shift closer, set a hand on his thigh, and lean in, pressing your lips to the hinge of his jaw and lightly sucking. He squeezes his eyes closed, clenches his teeth, and steels himself to do something he’s never done before - deny you. 

“If you don’t stop, I’m not fucking you today at all.” 

He’s bluffing but he sounds serious enough for you to believe him, your mouth detaching from his neck on a gasp as you process his words. He stares straight ahead, knowing that if you look into his eyes you’ll see the lie in them, see that there’s no way he could stand to go without you, especially after you’ve been teasing him like this. 

“So you will if I do stop?” You question in a hushed voice, almost sounding like you’re bargaining. 

“That’s the deal,” he confirms with a nod, feeling your eyes on him and hoping you aren’t seeing right through him like you usually can. 

“Alright, Gyu, I’ll be good.” 

He pushes out a sigh, knowing you chose those words on purpose. They’re the ones you say when he’s feeling more dominant than desperate, when he wants to tell you what to do and watch you do it, when giving isn’t enough and he needs to take instead. But he also knows that you always mean it, always want to be good for him if that’s what he wants from you, even if you did take this as one last opportunity to tease him. 

You’re true to your word, your touches innocent and your devil horns put away as he chats with you and your parents over tea and a tray of cheese and fruit. You’ll need to get on the road soon if you want to make it home before dark, and Mingyu is already about to vibrate out of his skin at the thought of finally getting his hands on you. 

He can tell you’re counting down the minutes in your head too, by the way you can’t seem to keep your eyes off him or stop your knee from bouncing or fully concentrate on the conversation. Mingyu fills in the gaps you leave, does his best to act as if he’s not currently picturing you naked, and laughs probably a bit too much every time your dad makes a joke.

He’s nervous again, mainly because his thoughts are far from pure and your parents are far too close, but also because he’s not sure you won’t jump him the minute you settle into the car. He’d like to at least get a few miles away before devouring you, and he doesn’t know if you’ll give him the opportunity to do so. 

Obviously, Mingyu’s not complaining. It gives him a sense of pride that he can affect you this way, make you want him enough to change your plans when you were clearly hellbent on getting him to fuck you in your twin bed. In almost any other house with almost any other people, he would’ve been more than down, but he just wasn’t willing to risk ruining his relationship with your parents, which would have definitely happened if they caught him banging their daughter while she was supposed to be giving him a tour. 

That’s not something he could come back from, and considering the fact that he wants to marry you someday, he thinks he made the right choice. That doesn’t make it any easier though, knowing you want him and not being able to do anything about it. 

“We should probably get going, right, Mingyu?” You ask during a natural lull in the conversation. 

“Yeah, we’ve got a couple hours ahead of us but I wish we could stay,” he agrees, trying to appear reluctant to be leaving instead of ecstatic. He thinks he sells it, your mom letting out a pleased ‘aw’ and your dad leaning over to clap him on the shoulder and say, “Maybe next time y’all can sleep over.”

“We would love that, dad,” you assure him with a smile before standing and taking Mingyu’s hand to pull him up with you. Your parents trail behind as he follows you to the front door, his eyes resolutely caught on the back of your head rather than your thighs in that damned skirt. 

“Let us know when you get home, okay, sweetie?” Your mom requests gently, folding her arms around you and letting her eyes fall shut as she hugs you tightly. 

“We love you,” your dad reminds you, wrapping you up in a hug of his own before letting go and turning to Mingyu. He offers a hand and Mingyu beams, shaking it firmly and nodding when he tells him to drive safely. Mingyu always drives safely, especially when you’re in the passenger seat, but he knows it was more of a command than a request anyway. 

You both wave when you get to the car, Mingyu opening your door for you and waiting for you to climb in before shutting it gently. He jogs over to the driver’s side and slides in, turning the car on and holding the wheel tighter than is strictly necessary. 

Now that you’re alone and in an enclosed space, the tension is stifling. You fiddle with the air controls and Mingyu sets up the playlist he made for you, pulling out of the driveway just as the first song starts to play. 

It’s one he’s fucked you to before, of course, and all it does is remind him of just how badly he wants you, how badly he needs you. He can feel the arousal stirring in his stomach, feel it clouding his mind and his judgment, and he knows there’s no way he’ll make it two hours without feeling you wrapped around him. 

So he takes a right instead of a left, turns into the first parking lot he sees, and parks in the darkest corner he can find. 

“Here?” You ask, excitement clear in your voice as he unbuckles his seatbelt and shuts the car off. 

“Here,” he affirms, getting out of the car with his jaw clenched and his jeans tight. You meet him in the backseat, your hands disappearing beneath your skirt to start working your panties down. He stops you before you get too far, pulls you into his lap and breathes, “Wanna fuck you in them,” as he pushes the gusset to the side and drags his fingers through your folds.

You’re soaking and fever hot, and Mingyu lets out a rough groan as he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth. You taste amazing, as always, and when you press your lips to his in a searing kiss, he knows you can taste yourself. It just makes everything hotter, makes his dick twitch in his jeans and his heart race in his chest, makes him moan into your mouth and bring his fingers back to your cunt so he can get you even wetter, even messier. 

He sinks in one, then another, your walls forming to them immediately and sucking them back in when he pulls them out. Normally, he’d make you cum two or three times before he even gives you his dick, but he’s desperate and it seems you are too. 

“Just get in me, Mingyu,” you cry into his mouth, your arms wrapped around his neck as your hips jerk back and forth with the movements of his fingers. 

“One more, baby,” he sighs against your lips, working a third digit inside of you and curling, searching, until he hits the spot that makes you gush. Predictably, you tighten and get even wetter around his fingers as he targets your g-spot with every thrust, and he figures he might as well go for an orgasm while he’s at it. 

His lips leave yours so he can kiss down your neck, nipping his way to the sensitive skin of your collarbone and sucking a mark there while he stretches you out for his cock. You whine when he spreads his fingers, whimper when he digs his teeth into your flesh, moan when he rubs his fingertips into the patch of nerves inside you. All of your sounds are heavenly, and they also have him so hard, he feels like he could cry. 

He prays you’re getting close, is fairly certain you are by the clenching of your cunt and the grinding of your hips, but just to be sure, he shifts his thumb to your clit and presses quick circles into it, the little bud throbbing as you climb higher and higher. 

“Cum, baby, please,” Mingyu whispers into your throat, knowing you can feel his lips brushing against your skin and hoping you can feel the vibrations of his voice too. 

Your pussy quivers around his fingers, wetness seeping out of your undulating walls as you cum with a sharp keen. He works you through it, wishes he could turn a light on so he could see your face better but knows that you have to be quick and discrete if you don’t want to get caught. 

His cock twitches, precum leaking into his boxers, and as soon as your cunt stops squeezing his fingers, he slides them out of you and sucks them into his mouth to clean them off (and to taste you again) before undoing his jeans and belt and pulling his cock out. You whine when you feel him against you, lifting your hips just enough to get the head notched at your entrance and starting to sink down. 

His hands fly to your hips, his fingers clenching in the delicate material of your skirt as your pussy swallows him. You just keep sucking him in deeper and deeper until there’s nowhere left to go, until your hips are flush with his and he’s bottomed out inside of you, until he has to let his head drop to your shoulder at the feeling of your hot, wet cunt wrapped around him. 

In such a tight space it’s hard for you to get enough room to rise up and down on his cock, so he lifts your hips and starts bucking up, fucking into you with quick, rough thrusts. You’re so wet, he can hear it, the slick sounds of his dick filling you music to his ears. 

You’re perfect, so beautiful and soft and sweet and just for him, only for him, and fuck, he’s already getting close. He wanted to last longer, but after hours of trying to balance being respectful and being absolutely mad for you, he’s exhausted and even more susceptible to the molten velvet of your pussy. 

Mingyu doesn’t know how much longer he can hold it off, especially when you start moaning his name and making little punched out noises every time he hits the end of you, so he slides one hand between your bodies and gets his fingers on your clit. You get tighter as soon as he touches you, and you’re so slippery, his fingers glide as he rubs tiny circles onto the swollen bundle of nerves. 

Now that he’s not holding you up, it’s less fucking and more grinding, but that means he gets to stay inside of you and feel every clench, every squeeze, every ripple of your walls around him. You make him feel so good, every single time, and already he can feel his balls drawing up and his dick getting harder as he starts nearing the edge. 

“Are you close, baby? Please be close,” he gasps brokenly, his head tilting back against the seat so he can gaze at you, the hand on your hip rucking your skirt up so he can watch his dick disappear inside of you. The sight of you in his favorite skirt with his favorite panties wrenched to the side as his cock stretches your pussy is one he’ll never forget, even if he can barely make you out in the darkness of the car. 

You nod, your breath hitching and your back arching as his cock twitches and jerks inside you. He doesn’t think he can hold it off any longer, the pleasure so sharp it almost hurts, and he can’t hold in his sounds either, moans and whimpers leaving his lips as the wave starts to overtake him. 

His heart is pounding, his vision whited out and his hearing all but gone, and it’s all he can do to keep breathing, keep up the circles on your clit, keep himself from crying actual tears when you whine his name and cum around him. He breaks as soon as you do, your walls fluttering wildly around his dick as ropes of cum paint the inside of your cunt. 

His hips buck in little movements, fucking his cum in even deeper, and he doesn’t let up with his fingers, pushing you through your orgasm and right up to another. His cock is so sensitive but he wants to feel you cum again, speeding up the circles on your clit until you’re whimpering and shaking on top of him. 

You collapse against him, your face in his chest and your arms falling from his neck as you go boneless. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight and rubbing your back, murmuring sweet little nothings into your ear as you come down. He can feel his cum starting to seep out of you as his dick softens. It’s probably staining his jeans but he doesn’t care, can only care about you and how you’re feeling. 

“Alright, baby?” He whispers, waiting for you to nod before pulling out and starting to disentangle himself from you. He wants to stay, wants to hold you for hours, but he’s not keen on getting arrested and there's still a long drive ahead. You’re sluggish, your movements slow and clumsy as you climb off of him, wincing at the slight soreness. 

He began keeping tissues in his center console after the last time you did this, so he at least has something to clean you up with, his hand gentle as he wipes the cum away before tucking a clean tissue into your panties so any extra will be caught. He cleans his dick off and puts it away, redoing his jeans and checking that the coast is clear. 

He opens the door as quietly as he can, running around to your side and helping you out, smiling proudly when he catches the way your legs shake before making sure you’re all buckled in and gently closing the door. Jogging back to the driver’s side, he looks around one more time and finds no squad cars or flashing lights, letting out a sigh of relief when he realizes you’ve gotten away with it. 

He hopes you can sleep on the way home, turns on your seat warmer and lays his hand on your thigh, waiting for you to cover it with yours before turning to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and whispering, “I love you.” 

You mumble it back, your eyes already closed, and he grins, starting the car and backing out of the secluded parking spot. Now that he’s met your parents and (hopefully) won them over, he’s got two hours to think about how he’s going to ask for their blessing to marry you.

Should be easy, right? 

AN: please i am BEGGING on my KNEES for your thoughts and feelings!!! thank you to @petrichor-mingi for beta reading 💖

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Full🧵 here:

HON IS BACK Y'ALL MY QUEEN IS BACK

helloooo! i’m a relatively new follower (and a relatively new carat!) and congratulations on your milestone! for your sleepover event can i please request mingyu and 98 from the prompt list? i feel like you could make it as fluffy or as dirty as you like 😆

mingyu + “I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot.”

wordcount: 1.7k

tags: very much in love jock/fratboy!mingyu, regular ass girl reader. (shocking, coming from me lmao), grinding, kissing, hand job, implied sex

note: you know im not only thankful for your congratulations for me, but for offering the option to write about mingyu with free reign? thank u so much <3 I did split up the prompt a lil bit to work it into the drabble, hope you don't mind!

Mingyu, the kid from down the street that rode by on his scooter, fucking scooter, and knocked your popsicle out of your hand before immediately riding straight into a tree. Mingyu, the guy who took you to prom because he felt bad that your crush rejected you quite harshly. Mingyu, the kid who turned into an awkward teen, who then turned into a, to put it bluntly, beefy ass jock playing for the college football team.

The two of you lost contact after prom, feeling as if the two of you were entirely too different. Sure, he was kind, but his jokes weren't funny. His interests bored you, and he couldn't dance for shit back then.

Even now, seeing him in passing on the walkways of campus, you'll notice that his eye never meets yours. His interests are that of prideful trophies, medals, and Tuesday night drinking binges at the frat house before a big exam.

Your interests clash. Art, architecture, grades, a comfy career working from home with nine cats and maybe a dog? That's what you want out of life.

The two of you were always very different, but still always close by somehow.

He lived three houses down from you growing up, he knew you got rejected in the hall on the way to biology class in high school because he just happened to be there, and now, he goes to the same fucking college as you fourteen hours away from the town the two of you grew up in.

It was kind of strange, then again, not really. Small world this, small world that. The two of you live in it completely apart, but the strange part is the fact that somehow, someway, he's always following his own path within arms reach of yours, regardless of how fucking distant your personalities are.

It's honestly not something you'd think of on a day to day basis, today is different though. You have to think about it, because maybe, sort of, he's kind of under you right now? And it's hard to explain how or why it happened outside of like, opposites attract.

"Never expected this out of someone like you," Mingyu comments, his hands gripping your hips and holding you in place as you straddle his lap. "Admit that you've had a crush all of these years."

You shake your head at him and roll your eyes. All those years you've known him? He was just Mingyu. Attractive? Sure, you'll give him that, but otherwise a little too different from you to have a crush.

"Always so quick to flatter yourself, Gyu, really." You laugh sarcastically, knowing for a fact that he's very aware of this current, very temporary crush you have on him. Otherwise you wouldn't be two inches from him lips right now.

"Well," He glances to the side, hiding his fondness of that childhood nickname, pretending that there isn't the possibility of a stranger barging through that open door and ruining this moment. "I had a crush."

You figured as much, with the way he really did try during prom. Though it was more of a pity-date, you imagine he wouldn't have felt how he did if there wasn't something there pushing him to try and heal up that little piece of your broken high school heart.

And as much as you figured it, something inside of you finds this big, beefy, asshole of a man....incredibly endearing as he admits it to you.

"Oh? Did you now?" You tilt your head, leaning in a bit and sitting your lips against the corner of his mouth. "What happened to change your mind?"

He turns his face, hands gripping you tighter, and kisses you once.

"Nothing changed my mind." He whispers slightly, entirely suffocating himself in the moment of being with you like he's always imagined since puberty hit his ass.

He kisses you again.

"Meaning," Another kiss. "I still have that crush."

You say nothing in response, and instead give in to his assault of kisses against your lips.

The feeling is......warm. Cliché even, in the way he kisses you like he meant what he just said despite the two of you practically ignoring each other for years.

"You have no idea how many times I've thought about this," He admits between those little kisses, his hands gripping harder and harder by the second. "I always hoped you'd walk through those doors to come see me."

You pull back, looking at him with a raised brow.

"I came here because I'm celebrating the fact that I passed an exam that almost killed me, what makes you think I expected you to be here?"

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at you now.

"You're very aware that I live here." He laughs, trying to catch you in a lie, trying to give him a reason outside of a sudden bout of random horniness from you to have you crawling on his lap like this. "You're not here to catch up?"

You find yourself feeling a bit bad. You didn't often think of Mingyu after college started, and it appears he thought of you plenty.

"I came here for the booze but," You smile, intentionally rolling your hips to offer him some sort of apology. "I can't say that I'm upset that you're here, and you know, hard."

His eyes flutter a bit at the friction you're offering to him, twitching in his pants unintentionally as you intentionally pull it out of him.

"So, tell me," You continue, pulling back a bit to watch his face and the way he seems to turn to jelly under you. Your hips continue, working him up, up, up. "How much did you think about this?"

He lets out a breathy chuckle, a half-moan coming out immediately after as he tries to gain back his ability to talk. Out of all things, this isn't entirely how he imagined doing this with you. Sure he always thought of you being on top of him like this, but never did he imagine feeling as though he's....shy.

"Couple of times," He tries to say nonchalantly, pressing his hips up and against you for more. "Like I said before, i never would have expected this out of you though."

You look at him closely, knowing for a fact that he probably expected to be the one in full control. It's cute knowing he can't live up to his own fantasy.

"You think I expected to have you under me like this? Looking like you're about to cry just from a bit of grinding?"

He groans out of slight embarrassment, nodding because he kind of didn't expect it either.

"Didn't expect someone like you to act this weak for someone like me." You continue, laughing more with him than at him.

Before you let him respond though, you reach down and fiddle with the button of his pants, feeling entirely in control of the situation.

"Does it feel good to be weak?" You smile, leaning forward to kiss against his neck as you slowly work your hand under his jeans.

God, the way he loses it. Pleasantly surprised with how you're speaking to him, and even more pleased with the fact that fucking finally you're giving him a chance. An ounce of your attention, even.

He's not ashamed to be weak around you, never has been. He wouldn't be ashamed if Vernon's drunk ass stomped through the door and watched, because at this point there's no stopping. He's too far gone in the feeling of your fingers working their way around his length, even in the tight space between your bodies. He's too gone in the feeling of your lips fluttering across his neck.

If he can, he'll take you right here, right the fuck now.

"Yeah..." he trails off in a dreamy sigh, letting himself feel you touching him for the first time.

"So," You ask, loving his reaction, squeezing the base of his cock and sliding off of his lap before lowering yourself to your knees and focusing solely on how big his cock is in your hand. "You just gonna sit here or are you gonna, like, take me to your actual room and let me really feel it?"

Mingyu's cock reacts before his brain does, as he freezes and processes the words. Oh god, you're really gonna let him? After all these years of crushing on you? Pining for you? Thinking about you in the early morning hours when he definitely shouldn't have been?"

"I never thought I'd hear you say that--" He says more to himself than to you. Seemingly looking like a deer in headlights before he's pulling your hand out of his pants, lacing his fingers with yours, and leading you straight to his bedroom. Arousal in full swing as he passes by stranger after stranger, friend after friend, until finally, he's got you behind his locked bedroom door.

"Fuck," he says immediately as he watches you and the way you stand there, as normal as ever, lifting your shirt off of you without a second thought and revealing a part of you that he only ever imagined being able to kiss.

The fact that you seem eager to get your clothes off, doing it the second the two of you are truly alone? Honestly, he can feel the waves of arousal making his length pulse painfully against his pants. The fact that other people have seen you like this before? The fact that you chose to let him see? The fact that this is how you act when you're turned on? Fuck, fuck, fuck. He's entirely desperate at this moment.

"That's so hot," He starts, feeling a little dumb but ultimately running with it because, well, he's not fucking lying. "It's so hot seeing you, the girl who always ignored me, doing this."

"Mingyu, all I did was take my shirt off." You try to brush his dramatic response off, feeling very seen right now.

"For me." He adds to your sentence, practically feeling like his knees will buckle and make him fall to the floor and grovel for a taste of you.

You feel doted on. Like the most mundane acts regarding sex seems to be driving him up a fucking wall, and arguably, it very well may be. With the way every inch of your skin is massaged and kissed before you can even fully reveal it to him.

It didn't take much to get Mingyu to actually fall to his knees once your pants came off. And goddamn you never expected such a big, beefy ass jock, to be so gentle with someone else's body. With your body.

THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD I MEAN THIS IS SO SO SO GOOD LIKE IM ON THE FLOOR LIKE LITERALLY ON THE FLOOR CRYING FOR THIS MASTERPIECE

Between the Heavens and the Earth | KMG

content: Prince!Mingyu & Baker’s Apprentice!Reader(f), smut, angst

word count: 3k

this was posted earlier on kofi | masterlist

You shouldn't be here. It's half-past midnight and you should be in bed, resting well in preparation for a long, hard day tomorrow, not out and about wandering the halls of the castle with a candlestick in hand. And you most definitely should not be making your way to the crown prince's quarters.

Well, when you think about it, you're not really all to blame for this. As the royal baker's apprentice, it is technically your duty to serve the prince, make whatever sweet and flaky pastry or cake the young royal craves.

You were only doing your job when you hand-fed Prince Mingyu the strawberry tarts he'd commissioned, you were only doing your job when you wiped the fluffy whipped cream from the corner of his lips, and you were definitely only doing your job when you let him suckle on your thumb to clean it of the thick cream. 

It doesn't matter that you felt yourself heat up and slicken in various parts of your body, doesn't matter that you had to suppress a weak moan when his tongue swirled around the digit, it doesn't fucking matter that in less than a second the prince was kneeling before you and eating out your cunt like it tasted better than the strawberry tarts while you looked around to make sure nobody was near the kitchens to catch you before succumbing to the bliss of having his mouth on you.

And now... well now you're ready to succumb to your forbidden pleasure once again.

This isn't the second time, nor will it be the last. The prince and yourself know it's wrong, it is so fucking wrong but it's so hard to keep your hands off each other. All those longing glances and searing but fleeting touches in the dining hall, it's not enough. Even your nearly nightly rendezvous aren't enough. It's almost sickening how much you miss him during the day and even after he'd just made you cry and drool into his silk sheets. Surely, the king and queen would have your head if they knew what went on in their castle, especially in their precious son’s room.

Speaking of the prince's room– you sigh as you take your final steps towards its heavy oak door. Just as you’re about to meekly knock on the door, it swings open to reveal the prince in his slacks and flowy dress shirt from dinner, the two top buttons open and offering a tempting view of his golden skin. The young royal grins at you like a schoolboy that’s been told he’s allowed to have sweets after dinner. 

“My love,” it's quiet, almost cautious, the way he calls out to you. Especially with those warm, sparkling eyes, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars for him. 

You remind yourself. You're just a measly baker, an apprentice, and he's the crown prince, the successor to the throne that you'll serve for most of your life. Yet you take his hand anyway, and let him pull you into his luxurious chambers as he playfully blows out your candle.

Immediately you're engulfed in his arms, the floral scent of the royal gardens and his natural musk greeting your senses. It's intoxicating, and it's so, so bad for you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, a fond smile etching into your heated skin. He inhales your scent just like you did his and sighs, voice dreamy and floaty. It only ever does become that light when he's with you, and you try not to read into it too much. It'd only hurt if you do. But there's a painful heaviness weighing down on you anyway. “I missed you.”

You deflect, you always do. And you have to wonder if he's sick of it yet. “You just saw me not two hours ago, Your Highness.”

The smile pressed against your skin falters for a second before it's pulling away. Yet when you meet Mingyu's gaze, the eye-crinkling grin is ever present. "Baby, I thought we were past formalities at this point." He jests, tilting his head and making you think of a confused puppy. Forcing out a chuckle, you shake your head, heart ridiculously heavy in your chest. "Right, right. Sorry, Gyu. Old habits."

The nickname appeases him and the prince's smile brightens if that was even possible. Old habits indeed; ones you can only drop when you're in his bedroom, away from prying and judgmental eyes, away from whispers of you seducing a royal to advance yourself in society. Away from everything that's been haunting you ever since you and the prince let your bodies entangle. He doesn't need to know your current thoughts, nor will he ever hear of them.

"It's alright," he says, and he tries so hard to convince you as well as himself. Mingyu leans in, kisses you gently, and holds you just as carefully. He unloops his arms around your waist and leads you to his bed, large and luxurious and expensive. The silk will never not feel foreign against your skin, too used the worn out linen of your own bed. You let yourself fall into its strange comfort anyway. “I’ll take care of you, darling.”

The prince is a man of his word, evident in the way he slowly and carefully undoes every button on the back of your blouse, how his fingers -- foreign to labor and free of callouses -- dance their way to push your underthings out of the way. The warmth of his soft, unsoiled hands travel all across your body, from your chest, to your waist, and to where your plain, linen skirt is tied and holding up the remaining layers separating your skin from his. 

All the while his lips were marking you wherever they could. For every inch of skin his hands reveal to his eyes, his lips follow diligently like a moth to a flame. But as enamored as the prince is with you, as dizzy as your scent makes him, he still has enough sense in him to be careful. Whatever marks he leaves are for his eyes only; he couldn’t even bear to think of what would happen to you if someone else were to notice how you would wince when you accidentally touch one of the tender spots under your clothes. 

“So beautiful,” you hear him mutter under his breath as he finally swipes your underwear down your legs and kisses the gentle swell of your abdomen. You’ve heard that from him countless of times– you could never understand how something so sweet could tug at your heartstrings so painfully. You only let out a smile and soft exhale in response, a hand coming down to rest on the back of his head. 

Mingyu settles himself between your legs, handsome face nearly pressing into your apex. With your fingers now treading and tugging at his soft hair in impatience, you could simply push him forward. You could, but you’d never. Even now, when your prince is quite literally preparing himself to worship you and show you his love in the most blissful way he could think of– you still have to remember your place.

The prince finally dives in, moaning against your heat at the taste of your arousal, and your other hand clamps down on your mouth. There would be nothing more incriminating than noises of pleasure coming from the prince’s quarters when he’s not wed and not one to bring women to his bed when he pleases. No, not your prince. Never your prince.

He has your hips bucking against his face in no time– you hate nothing more than feeding his ego, but your heart flutters anyway when you feel his lips stretch into an intoxicated smile against your folds. It’s dirty, but he’s so sweet, so caring, so considerate. Mingyu pulls away for a second to nip at your thigh before soothing it with a kiss.

“G-gyu,” you breathe out, nails scratching deliciously against his scalp. He makes a humming noise, quite clearly enjoying himself a little too much. “My love, stop. I… I need you.”

His response is immediate if not a little embarrassing for someone of his title. “But you haven’t-”

“I need you, Gyu.” You’ve never asked him for anything until now; that has always bothered him. He had hopes that you’d be convinced that he sees you as an equal at this point– as his lover, for god’s sake– but you regrettably cannot seem to shake your role of a royal servant off. You still act like your only purpose is to heed to his every beck and call when truly all Mingyu wants is to take care of you. To show you what he cannot when you’re outside the solitude of his room. To love you as you deserve.

He sees it in your eyes– the desperation, the sorrow, the longing, and most especially, the love you could never bring yourself to profess. So, Mingyu rises, swipes his hair back from obscuring his sight, and reaches down to grip your thighs. They melt at his touch, almost perfectly malleable. Your thighs are slightly pressing against your stomach; the position completely exposes your puffy, glistening cunt to your lover and you grow bashful at the realization.

You try calling out to him, to maybe make your shyness known, but Mingyu is just awestruck. No matter how many times he’s seen you bare, you always manage to blow him away. He sucks in a breath when his finger touches your wetness, tempted to once again dive in and lap up your nectar. He’d have to ask you to shirk out on your kitchen duties and let him spend the entire day between your legs one of these days. Mingyu shakes the incredulous thought out of his head and instead focuses on the way your cunt is eagerly sucking in his digit. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he sighs, almost to himself. He pumps his finger inside you a few times before adding another, checking on your expression for any discomfort. When he sees none, he continues. You fight off any pathetically needy sounds that might escape you all the while. Mingyu notices, he always does. With a reassuring kiss to your calf, he repeats himself. “I’ll take care of you, my love.”

You’re seeing stars by the time he pushes his cock inside you. Mingyu exhales shakily, steeling his self-control so as not to pound you in the mattress and make you miss your duties for a week. Oh, truly, he would if he could. Your thighs are shaking and your hands are almost frantic, searching for something to hold onto. 

“Sshh, darling, I’m right here. I’m here.” Mingyu spreads your legs, allowing him to rest his body on yours, hand interlacing with your wandering one and face pressed into your neck. You’ve also found purchase on the pillow supporting your head. His weight embracing you is comforting and serves to push him deeper inside you. Soon you find your hips rolling against his, eager for the mind-numbing pleasure of thickness drilling into you over and over again. 

“M-move, please,” you choke out; it’s only then that either of you notice the tears welling in your eyes. Before Mingyu could speak, you exhale something that almost sounds like an order. “Move, my love. Please take care of me.”

Mingyu makes a sound of pleasure that sounds just on the edge of cockiness; you fight the smile that was just starting to spread on your face because of his antics. It’s no use as your expression quickly distorts to that of pleasure as the prince slowly but surely picks up the pace of his hips. He groans out praise after praise into the crook of your neck. Then he’s moving, planting words of affection into your skin with a kiss until he reaches the swell of your chest. Your legs are pushed up higher both to accommodate the prince’s comfort and to drive him deeper into you.

He suckles on the bud of your left breast, hand squeezing yours in ecstacy, a reminder of sorts. You once again slap your hand over your mouth, muffling your wanton moans that were riser higher and higher. Mingyu rises from your chest and pulls you up with him so that you’re on top instead. You gasp at the feeling of him being so deep inside you, thickness stretching your velvet walls so deliciously that you couldn’t help but clench around him. It seems it’s not only your heart that doesn’t want to let go of your prince.

“F-fuck, baby,” Mingyu lets out a breathy laugh, the warmth of his words hitting your collarbone. You look down at him as if to say that you’re listening; you’re met with dazzling brown eyes, love and passion and pure dedication simmering underneath his almost honey-like irises. It takes your breath away. “S-so beautiful like this, feels so good.”

You gyrate your hips on top of his, suppressing a moan at how he continues to fill you up still, bullying your insides and the tip of his cock nudging your most sensitive spot. Your arms are now looped behind his shoulders, pulling him close to your chest. Mingyu goes back to mouthing at your breasts, hands firmly planted on your hips and encouraging you to start bouncing on him.

He realizes that to be a mistake as he nearly cums from the feeling of your cunt gripping him as you bounce, his grip aiding you in your movements. Mingyu marvels at your self control; you’re already so cockdrunk yet your words are stable as you gently sigh, “Touch me, Gyu, please.”

The prince nods, eager to please you and make you feel good. Sometimes he thinks about being at your beck and call– and not only in the bedroom.

His fingers expertly find your clit, teasing the sensitive bundle until he feels you leaking all over his lap. When he feels your hips stutter, a surge of determination washes over him, and suddenly his fingers are rubbing fast circles. He watches you in awe as you throw your head back, hand silencing your whorish sounds. Oh, how your prince longs to hear those sounds.

You don’t even manage to choke out a warning before your whole body seizes up, your sticky and warm arousal making a mess of your lover’s lap and his silk sheets. Without missing a beat, you leap off his lap with trembling legs and take his cock into your mouth, stroking with a passionate hand what you don’t currently have the energy to fit back inside you.

Mingyu shudders and bites his forearm as he floods your mouth with his cum. You help him ride it out, stroking and stroking while he calms down and subdues his moans. A contented hum emanates from your chest as you swallow his release, looking up at him. Mingyu loves you even more like this; when you don’t have a care in the world and hold the purest of love in your eyes as you look at  him. He wishes you could look at him like that without having to worry for your life. 

His hand soothes your hair as you rest your cheek on his thigh, your own legs still shaking. A few moments later, Mingyu scoops you up, just holds you against his chest and leaves drops of kisses onto the crown of your head. He lays you both down soon after, chests pressed against each other.

"There's something I must tell you," he starts off slowly once you've both caught your breath, cautious and afraid, and you realize this is the same tone he greeted you with earlier. Your gaze catches his, and it bothers you just how foreign the worry on his face looks. Yes, you've seen him worried before, but not like this. Not like his world would end the moment he told you whatever's causing him anxiety like this. It doesn't belong on his face; all there should be is happiness and love and kisses, not whatever the fuck this is that's hurting him. "I'm sure you've heard it already-"

"No, I haven't." you cut him off, precise and final. It's true; you've been doing your best to avoid any and every hot piece of gossip circulating in the kitchens and amongst the servants. You lean into his chest, breathing in the fading familiarity of his scent. Mingyu's hand comes up to caress your hair, afraid to look down at you and see the pain that will undoubtedly paint your face once he unburdens himself of the news.

You nod, cheek squishing against his broad and firm chest. Mingyu sighs when he feels you tracing nondescript patterns on his warm skin. "You can tell me, Gyu. It's all right, you can tell me."

The nickname squeezes at his heart so painfully he actually feels his chest tightening. He leaves one more kiss on your forehead. It feels like a goodbye. He prepares the three words on the tip of his tongue and prays to what powerful being above that you reciprocate it like he knows you want to.

“I love you.” A strong-willed declaration, and your heart simply flutters. After all, how could it not? Your very own prince charming is proclaiming the strongest of feelings for you. Your forehead is pressed against his chest; the loud thumping of his heart chokes your own.

“I love you too, my prince.”

The next time you see Prince Mingyu is when you’re arranging tarts at the buffet, making sure they look presentable and will not teeter off the edge of the tower to be wasted. You catch his eye, and you hope yours are mirroring his– full of sadness and longing and desperation. You look away first.

“Staring at the prince again?” your fellow apprentice Chan nudges your arm, grinning like he’s just said the funniest joke to ever exist. “Aren’t you getting sick of your crush on him?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chan. This is his engagement party, for heaven’s sake.”

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