#self doubt and anxiety gets the best of me
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winisayswhat · 17 hours ago
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Fairy Whispers
🧚‍♂️ 🧚‍♀️ soft and comforting hug from fairies 🧚‍♀️ 🧚‍♂️
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Pile 1 Pile 2
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PILE 1
You have so much inner power and strength within you , enough to shake up the world , but you aren't letting yourself use the power , there is a sense of denial in you , it's like you're quiet ignorant towards your own powers , there might be people under estimating you because you are refusing to utilize the power within you , be more confident , put yourself out it the world love , you are so magical and powerful , you deserve the world ,the universe , the heaven , and much more . You have so many people secretly admiring you , their heart fills up with joy when they see you or are with you , they feel seen and heard, so stop feeling lonely or like a chooped out piece, you add depth and love to people's life ,knowingly and unknowingly . You don't need anyone , people need you , you are the embodiment of supreme powers , you are not just another existing being in the jungle , the jungle belongs to you , and you're the king/queen 👑 .
You are very humble about your talent and knowledge , stop it. So many people are feeding upon your lack of showcase of talent , go out in the world and project your talents, we fairies will season it with our magical glitter ! You're so smart that we're in awe ! You're so humble my child , I wish I could give you a hug , I hope people saw the infinity magic that you embody , but hey , superheroes and fairies are just simple people with extraordinary powers and not everybody is meant to see it 😌.
Go out be adventurous , you have zest for life, go out and own it, you have such great leadership qualities that people are jealous ! You were born with it . You might sometimes feel that you get the toughest battles , but guess what , God gives his best children the toughest battles ,because God knows you're IT CHILD of the curb.
There will be turbulences and unpleasant situations in future , but don't worry me and the lord have your back ! Don't cry, dont shy , just be happy and spread joy ! And if anything does go wrong, my glitter will fix it all ♡
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PILE 2
You're surrounded by loving, supportive energy, and the fairies are here to guide you! 🧚‍♀️💖 You've recently experienced heartbreak or emotional pain, but don't worry, you're stronger than you think .The fairies advise you to take a step back, assess your situation, and be patient with yourself and others . You're nearing a milestone or accomplishment, and it's essential to trust in your abilities and wisdom .It's the test of times and I bet you shall pass it . The universe is testing how strong you're, so that it could evaluate you and reward you !!
You might often feel stagnant in life and confused, too many options ? Too many thoughts ? No progress? Don't worry , this shall last for a while , it's building you for the future life . You are an empress , the more you trust and nurture yourself ,the more you'll be universe's favourite child ! Celebrate yourself daily , because you're special & shall always be💗
Stay positive and focused on your goals . You may receive an emotional or romantic invitation, or experience a strong intuitive connection with someone .Be mindful of your thoughts and emotions, and practice mental discipline to overcome anxiety and worry . Trust your inner guidance and wisdom, and take time for introspection and self-reflection . You tend to avoid it or lack discipline in your spiritual routine . Whatever you do , do it with 100% dedication .
You might feel like you're lagging compared to others and there might be lots of self doubt and uncertainty, but it only gets better and better with time !
Focus on developing your skills, paying attention to detail, and taking pride in your work .You may receive new opportunities for financial growth and abundance ,but you need to be opem for it ,stop doubting yourself and your rewards . You're on the verge of a new beginning, and the fairies encourage you to approach this journey with trust, and open heart .
Trust your intuition and inner wisdom, and listen to your inner voice . Cultivate mental clarity and focus to navigate your spiritual journey . You're a powerful, magical being, and the fairies are honored to guide you on your path!
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the-witch-of-one-piece · 16 days ago
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Have you ever wanted to interact with people and be friends with and then your thoughts stop you.
Inner thoughts: I should message them and see how they are doing or they seem so cool they like what I like.
Also inner thoughts: no no don’t they might think your weird or don’t want to talk.
I’m my worse enemy I swear 😭
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angorwhosebabyisthis · 1 month ago
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honestly it's been really healing being back to actively contributing things and writing out thoughts on tumblr the last week or so, because while twitter tends to be easier for me to write out Thoughts on without getting overwhelmed, the environment in the twitter fandom circles i'm interested in is not only infested with antis but cliqueish in a way that is caustic to the fucking soul if you try to express a thought that's more than three sentences long--a hundred times over if you're autistic in slightly the wrong way--and it's incredibly reassuring to come back to an environment where the very kindest and most inclusive people toward you are not clearly thinking the r-slur the entire time they interact with you lmao
#whosebaby talks#took an incident of just open petty cruelty the other day for me to finally go#you know what all of this is doing a huge number on my self-esteem and scrupulosity and social anxiety and mental health overall#sometimes it pays to hold out and give the benefit of the doubt#when your knee-jerk reaction is to think something Must Be a Sign of Shitty Intent; bc often it will turn out that wasn't the case at all#but unfortunately sometimes it turns out people are in fact just being shitty in exactly the way you thought they were#and at the *very* best you are incompatible in such a way that if they don't have bad intentions you're just never going to be able to tell#or well. not even necessarily bad *intentions*; just shitty behavior that's harmful to you regardless of whether they mean well#sometimes you just gotta accept that even if neither of you *is* being shitty it's not worth your peace of mind to never be able to confirm#and it's better to just save both of you the stress and not try to pursue that.#it fuckin sucks when it's people you think are cool and really want to get to know; it's a hard lesson to learn; but it's the way sometimes#......and then sometimes the confirmation you finally get is that yeah okay this is some bullshit#and not in a way that can likely be communicated past; no matter how much effort you make to be kind; clear; and mature#and being publicly humiliated for carefully trying to yes-and some clarification on meta of mine#which was being used in ways i was deeply uncomfortable with; and had had no warning would take the turn that it did#and which was contributing to the original post gaining traction in the first place#all targeted in ways pretty much tailor-made to hurt someone with specific issues they had seen me talk about + acknowledged#was just. yeah i think i'm done here lmao#i am Not someone who takes down meta once posted#so the fact that it was bad enough to make me delete an entire thread really says something lol#anyway. lots of other context there; and i appreciate that in some ways the person was genuinely trying to be kind; but i'm. yeah.#that shit Hurted Extremely; and made me realize that while i'm not the *most* well-socialized or articulate or approachable#there is just something in the water over there and no amount of The Problem Not Being Me would have mattered#and the nice asks/replies/comments i've gotten both recently and during hibernation make me feel warm inside; thank y'all <3#the salt files#bullying cw#ableism cw
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thegempage · 3 months ago
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eeeuuuuggghhh i'm gonna bitch in the tags a bit bcus this isn't like. serious enough to put more effort into it than that but i also don't want it to sit in my brain.
#little rock.txt#venting#self harm in tags btw#anyway. wow i hate intrusive thoughts.#like great guys. it's so cool that the way we're deciding to spend our time is constantly thinking about ways to hurt myself#oh wow stabbing myself with a knife someone left on the counter? so original. never been seen before#oh starving myself?? even when my lovely friend made us a whole dinner?? that's lovely. wow. not even a little bit rude#standing in traffic until someone comes and hits me? at least that wouldn't damage my fucking car like your other ideas!#taking something sharp to my sunburns for a two-birds-one-stone thing?? i guess you're making the best of the circumstances#like jesus fucking christ Grow Up. am i fifteen goddamn years old again#like if we're being So real the consequences of actually self-harming Far outweigh the benefits so i'm not at any real risk#(i do Not want to deal with the fallout of 1. cleaning those wounds 2. confronting my housemates with active self-harm#they actively do not deserve that happening to them)#(hi guys btw sorry. i'm fine)#but that just means i'm sitting here like. so are you gonna be productive or....?#like i had plans of what i wanted to do with my brain power tonight. was gonna write. maybe clip a stream. and we're...?#oh just sitting on my laptop playing music too loud bcus if i could hear my own thoughts it'd be a nightmare? neat.#jesus christ can i be a normal goddamn person for like fifteen minutes and get out of this anxiety spiral. it's been over 24 hours.#whatever. like at this point it's fucking whatever. if i can't drag myself into being productive i'm just gonna go to bed.#“opal is being mean to yourself really going to help” i don't know. i doubt it. unfortunately i am in the mood to be a bitch#and the only person who deserves to deal with bitchy opal is me. so.#anyway if you read all of this uuuhhh sorry. i am like this. but hey. thank you for caring
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uraosol · 1 month ago
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ok listen, maybe i was being dramatic, and letting my ego get the best of me and not thinking straight, so yes it's my fault, I should not have jumped the guns that fast, I love romance and I gotta understand others, yes
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hannieoftheyear · 1 month ago
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After All This Time (kmg)
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When you're asked to be on the wedding party of a long-lost friend, you get the chance to reconnect with former classmate Mingyu, but not without your old feelings and struggles resurfacing.
pairing: groomsman!mingyu x bridesmaid!reader
w.c: 18,7k
genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, minor angst, it's another self-indulgent 'running away from your high school past' story from me.
warnings: alcohol consumption, a lot of not standing up for oneself, kind of unrealistic wedding timeline (i've never been a bridesmaid so bare with me), mingyu has no flaws here because... im in love with him, this might be badly written I can't really tell anymore | smut: it's messy, and rough, face sitting, unprotected penetration (don't do this), multiple orgasms (f). lmk if im missing anything
still into you by paramore - i often listened to this song while writing this. i wasn't particularly inspired by it but the title did come from its lyrics, and i think it's pretty fitting
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The unopened letter stares at you from across the table. Trying to ignore it by doing your housekeeping chores is pointless. Scrubbing your toilet, doing your laundry, making your bed, and even cooking your meal preps for the entire week, nothing managed to take your head away from that stupid letter, wondering what could possibly be.
You and Olivia haven’t spoken properly since graduating high school many years ago. The last time you had a full-on conversation with her was when she told you she started seeing a new guy freshman year in college, someone who went to your same high school but never knew. Besides that, your only form of “communication” was liking each other's Instagram stories and the yearly happy birthday text. A letter from her addressed to you was the last thing you expected to see today, or ever.
Curiosity finally wins as you take it and inspect it up close. The pastel pink envelope with golden details feels sturdy in your hands, and the wax seal is stamped with two initials, O and T. The boyfriend’s name appears in your memory as the realization hits you. Olivia and Thomas.
This is a wedding invitation.
Opening the envelope just confirms your thoughts, but there’s more to it than just a mere invitation. Just below some details such as dress code and the plus one, there’s a part specifically addressed to you asking you to be one of Olivia’s bridesmaids. Your stomach turns, anxiety, and excitement battling it out in each of your organs. For one, it’s really heartwarming that she thought of you as a friend still and wants you to be a part of such a special day as her wedding. On the other side, it’ll be awkward to see everyone again after such a long time, because, weirdly enough, you never encountered anyone you knew ever again, even if you didn’t move away and still frequented same places as before.
Except, maybe that anxiety is just because of one person, who’s probably going to be more than involved in this wedding. Cassie, your other best friend.
Being a trio was never a problem. Actually, it’s probably the better friend group arrangement for you. The three of you got along immediately since the first day of middle school and never looked back. It was always fun and comfortable, you thought you had found your best friends for life. But something happened around the age when girls start noticing boys, when everyone starts going on dates, flirting, kissing, getting into relationships. That’s when you realized you and Cassie had the exact same type. It became almost like a routine: you’d notice a cute guy around school but didn’t say anything, and the next thing you know, at the next party Cassie would also notice him and hook up with him. You were sure you were in your very own Truman Show.
Was it partially your fault for not saying anything? Maybe, but did it have to happen with literally every single guy you were ever attracted to? It reached a point where you would constantly doubt yourself, compare yourself to her, was she cooler? Prettier? Smarter? Funnier?
In the end, it wasn’t her fault, and you’d never blame her for that, but for your own good and the wellness of your crumbling self-confidence, you had to get away from that situation. And you did. At least until now. But it’s been years, you’re not the same person you were back in high school, and hopefully, all of your self-doubting was also left in the past.
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A sky-high, lavish building stands before you in all of its glory. You were no stranger to your old friend’s rich family, but her lifestyle always managed to take you by surprise.
Olivia wanted all the bridesmaids and groomsmen to meet and get comfortable with each other, so she and her fiancé arranged a little afternoon party at their apartment. Over the few texts you exchanged with Olivia, she failed to mention the other people on the wedding party. So during the elevator ride, you think of every possibility, who could be there that you know? With how many people from school has she kept in contact with? Will you know the groom’s friends?
The doorbell rings inside the busy apartment, and a few seconds later you’re welcomed by your old friend with a bright smile. You hug Olivia tightly, the weirdness of the situation fading away for a few seconds. Afterward, you greet everyone with a shy smile, recognizing some faces and encountering new ones. Some people are standing in groups of three or four, while others sit on the couch or a few scattered chairs, talking with each other comfortably.
“While we wait for the last people to arrive, I want to start telling you what I have planned.”
Olivia announces as you walk away slowly, and you find an empty wall by the hallway to rest against.
At least twenty minutes pass, in which Olivia doesn’t take one breath, her happiness and excitement showing through her endless words. The wedding plan is not really out of the ordinary, but the scale of things, that’s the impressive part. She has seven bridesmaids, including you, plus the maid of honor who hasn’t arrived yet, and her fiancé has the same number of grooms, plus the best man. Each of you will pair up throughout the days coming up to the ceremony, and on the big day, each pair will have matching outfits and even a dance scheduled after the couple’s first dance as a married couple. Her idea was essentially thought so no one would feel out of place and enjoy the ceremony, because it should be a happy day for everyone.
While she explains everything for the second time, you take your time to look around the big room full of people. Scanning every face, there isn’t really a lot of girls you know, but the groomsmen, on the other hand, all of them went to your same high school. It seems Olivia’s fiancé still hangs out with his same group of friends. One of them, in particular, sparks a little smile across your face.
Mingyu was the only other person you considered a real friend in school. As scary and anxiety inducing as it is to have classes without your small friend group, he made it more than bearable, enjoyable even. Becoming friends with the nerdy boy assigned as your lab partner is one of the things you remember fondly about those years of your life. He was like a breath of fresh air during all the turmoil. Would he remember you?
His eyes catch yours from across the room, and an instant smile forms across his lips. After all the years that passed, he still looks the same. He’s much more mature and fully over puberty now, his broad bulky frame being one of the more standing out new things about him, but you’d recognize that confused expression and toothy smile with fangs peeking out anywhere. Your mood rapidly improves as he mouths a ‘hi’ and waves his hand lightly at you, not wanting to interrupt the bride to be. You repeat his greeting with a growing grin, but your small interaction is cut short.
“And Y/Nie,” your name catches your attention, and you turn to Olivia, “you and Mingyu will be our last pair. Is that okay?”
The relief is immediate. It might be a little awkward, but at least you’ll be with someone you know. You and Mingyu look at each other once again and then nod at her, but before she can continue with whatever she is saying, the entry door opens behind her.
“Hi everyone!” The familiar voice makes your stomach drop, “I’m sorry I’m late. My boss wouldn’t let me go.”
“It’s fine. It’s nothing the maid of honor hasn’t heard before.” Olivia replies to her with a chuckle.
She looks the same too, only with longer hair and more mature features on her face. Her body language holds the same coolness, as sure of herself as she was when you were younger.
“Oh my god! I haven’t seen you in so long!” When she greets you, you straighten your posture, put on your best smile, and hug her back. “How are you doing?”
“Hey Cassie, good, good, just working my life away!”
You joke and try to ease up your emotions. Your few words manage to satisfy her as she nods with a smile, walks away, and pecks one of the groomsmen – her boyfriend? – on the lips before sitting by his side.
The schedule is easy for Olivia to finish explaining it, so in no time, food starts rolling in, and conversations pop up between everyone, either catching up or normal everyday chats. Cassie starts telling a story about something that happened earlier at her job, but you don’t really understand it. You haven’t talked to them in so long, you don’t know what they do for a living, or where they work. You don’t know them anymore, and you’re too afraid to ask.
To the side, a couple of people over, Mingyu’s talking with the rest of the grooms' friends comfortably. You want to talk to him, but what would you say? It’s not like you were the closest of friends. You never hung out outside of the school, and your friend groups never actually interacted until now. Actually, you never told Olivia and Cassie about him. Maybe because you were afraid that if you introduced him to Cassie, he’d swoon over her like the rest of the guys you ever interacted with romantically.
An uneasy feeling creeps in on you as memories of your past fight to climb up on your memory. Feelings and thoughts you haven’t felt in years come back up, almost reliving everything in a matter of milliseconds. You need to talk to someone, take your mind off of your overthinking. Because this is not the time nor the place to get so gloomy.
You get to talk with the rest of the bridesmaids, and the anxiousness of it all starts bubbling down, and you’re much more comfortable. A couple of them are close family friends with Olivia, also as rich as her, but still really nice girls, even if a little airheaded, and the rest are friends from college.
Time passes by easily, and soon enough, the sun is already set.
On the ride back home, your mind starts spiraling again. Do you even fit in with all those people? An invite to her wedding would’ve been just fine, but a bridesmaid? You feel like a total stranger, someone from her past who’s meddling around trying to sneak into a place she purposely left behind. At least you won’t have to see anyone ever again after the wedding is over.
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It is said that changing your usual routine helps improving your mood, taking another path home, shopping at a new place, sitting down at a different park, trying a new coffee order, changing the little things to feel more energized and be more productive. You wouldn’t know, because every task you complete as fast as possible to be back home quickly. So, after days of not being able to think about anything else but the upcoming wedding, it’s your only option left.
With the sky lit up with golden light, the grass and trees as green as ever, and a light breeze that prevents you from getting too hot, you walk around a park you’ve never been to before, with your new ‘hot girl walk’ playlist as a soundtrack. The kids running around the playground are the only sounds that get through your ears besides the music, maybe a bark or two as well, and the sun against your skin soothes all your worries. Damn. Going on a walk does fix your mood.
A hand grabbing your arm softly startles you, and you’re about to punch the mystery person when you recognize his face.
“Mingyu?”
His eyes are focused on your fist that was ready to hit him, and you lower it down, beginning to take out your airpods.
“Sorry! You scared me!” You erupt in a nervous laughter.
“I’m sorry! I called your name but you didn’t hear me.” He stands apologetic in front of you, looking down at his feet before daring to look back up. “How are you doing? We didn’t get to talk the other day.”
“Yeah! It’s good to see you! I didn’t expect you to be there, it was a nice surprise.” Is it too weird to say that? Well, it’s already done.
He gets the tiniest bit shy at your words, his ears turning a light shade of pink before disappearing quickly.
You notice a bicycle by his side, a cute pink helmet with glittery heart stickers hanging by the handle. He must’ve been biking when he saw you and took it off before calling your name.
“I didn’t know if you were still friends with Olivia, I didn’t know if I was going to see you either.”
You fixate on the first part of his sentence, ignoring your body’s reaction to him implying he wanted to see you.
“Oh, we’re not really that close anymore.” There’s a silence as you finish your words, as it wasn’t the reply he was expecting. “Life, you know? We just grew apart.”
It was you who stopped making an effort to talk to her, but even if it was still for your own good, you’re a little ashamed to admit it to Mingyu.
“She still asked you to be her bridesmaid. That must mean something.” Ever the positive guy, he tries to make you feel better after the sour comment.
“Yeah, it’s really nice of her.” The sun shining so bright prevents you from looking up at him, but you smile, hoping he can see it.
The slow steps you’ve been taking side by side turn awkward with silence. You wanted so badly to talk to him after the other day, but now that he’s here, in front of you, you can’t think of anything.
“It’s good that you still hang out with the guys.”
You don’t know what else to say, and the words spill out of your mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice the awkward atmosphere, his body as comfortable as ever walking by your side.
“Yeah, even though not as often as I’d like.” A regretful smile forms across his lips. “Our schedules haven’t been lining up, I met Olivia in person maybe a total of three times over the years.”
“What? There’s no way you didn’t share any classes in school?”
He shakes his head, chuckling at your surprise.
“I think I only ever shared one class with her, but I didn’t really care much about her crowd back then.”
“Wow, thanks for that.”
He means all the popular guys your friends would hang out with, and you know it, but there was always something so fun in teasing him and seeing him get so pouty.
"You know I don’t mean you.”
His shoulder pushes your body lightly to the side, and you chuckle together. It’s hard to prevent the red from rushing to your cheeks. Maybe he’ll mistake it for a faint sunburn.
“That’s a cute helmet you got there.” Your eyes point to it as a way to distract him.
“Oh, that?” He picks it up with what seems to be an embarrassed voice tone, but his actions quickly override it. He puts it on proudly and looks at you with his eyebrows raised, “my sister gave it to me when I bought the bike, gets all the ladies.”
“I'm sure it does.”
Attention from women he for sure gets, but probably not because of that thing. His tall, muscular body is enhanced by the tight blue t-shirt he's wearing. You didn’t get a proper look at him the other day, and now, standing next to him in broad daylight, you almost wish you could still live in the ignorance bliss of not knowing the exact height difference between you two.
“So, what are you doing around here?”
His words make you realize you’ve been staring for a few seconds, and you look ahead, hoping he didn’t notice. He forgets to remove the helmet, making you chuckle quietly before answering.
“I just got off from work and thought it would be nice to take a different route home.”
“That’s such a coincidence! I come here, like, almost every week to bike around.”
“Wow, It really is.”
For how long have you been avoiding this specific park for no reason? Pushing away your chance of meeting the one and only person you would’ve wanted to?
A ping from his phone alerts both of you, taking you out of your little bubble.
“Sorry I-" His expression falls as he reads the new text, “I have to get going, but it was really nice seeing you!”
"Oh, sure! I didn’t mean to hold you back.” It comes out quieter than you’d like. “Goodbye!” With a simple smile and a tiny wave at him, you turn around.
Right when he gets on his bicycle again, before he starts pedaling, he looks back at you, taking your first step in the opposite direction.
“Wait!” When you turn around, he’s taking his phone out of his front pocket, “Can I get your number?”
The both of you blush at his words, and you look up at him cautiously.
“So we can catch up and, you know, get comfortable with each other for the wedding.”
You had already forgotten about that. The reason you even met him again in the first place.
“Sure!”
Your hand trembles slightly when you take his phone, and you mentally beat yourself up for it. It’s just your number! It could mean nothing.
“I’ll text you later so you can save mine.”
And with a wink, he’s off to whatever he was late to.
Great. Now you’re not only re-living your high-school anxieties but also your high-school crushes.
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During the following days, you find yourself checking your phone more often than ever, always with the hope that you’ll get a new message from Mingyu. Texting almost every day since the encounter at the park, the time when you’re both free to talk has become your favorite part of the day.
It started shyly, merely updating the other about your lives since finishing high school, your jobs, and hobbies. But as time passed, the never-ending conversation eased onto your daily routines. You’d wake up and text Mingyu, update him as you arrive at work. Lunch, break, evening, clocking out, dinner. Every little free time you got, you’d text each other back and forth.
A text notification cheers you up constantly, thinking that it could possibly be him again. But it’s not always the case, like this time.
It’s Olivia reminding you that, in exactly 29 minutes, you have the dance rehearsal with all the maids and grooms. Half an hour, and you live 1 hour away from the studio she rented. A little white lie never hurt anyone, so you tell her something came up and you'll be just a little late.
You love weddings, but if you had to choose one thing you don’t like about them, it would definitely be the dancing. You can’t dance for shit. You’d tell your right leg to move forward, and your left leg would move backwards, like your body can’t comprehend instructions when they’re related to dancing. Usually, you stay in your seat, choosing not to embarrass yourself in front of all the guests, but this time, you can’t get out of it. Poor Mingyu will leave the class with at least five bruises on his feet from you stepping on him.
The dance studio is part of a new, contemporary looking building on the exact geographic center of the city, a place you would always pass by but never thought you’ll get to enter. Standing at the front desk, over half an hour late, you feel too out of place. Your clothes are probably wrong, your hair is completely disheveled, you don’t remember on which floor is your class, and you don’t even know the name of the dance teacher.
After a long discussion with the receptionist, she finally understands what you’re here for and lets you go up to the 13th floor.
The walk from the elevator to the studio feels longer than it actually is. Three to four footsteps become long, slow turtle-like steps. But not even the infinite time you spend taking four steps prepare you for your stomach to drop down to the basement at the sight of Mingyu dancing with Cassie as soon as you open the door.
His hands on her waist, her arms around his neck, dancing slowly in circles, laughing about something she just said, you can almost hear something inside you break. After all this time, nothing really changed.
“Hey! You’re finally here!”
Olivia’s voice brings you back to earth.
“Hi! I’m really sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” The dance teacher gives you a look, and you lower down your voice, “So how is this going?”
“We had to put them together,” she points the dreaded pair, directing your eyes to them once again, “because neither you or Tyler were here when we started, but after the song’s over you can join him and I’ll practice with Cassie, okay?”
You nod with the best spirit you can manage to express.
“Is Tyler the guy she was with the other day?”
You don’t forget to whisper so the class isn’t interrupted by your chatter.
“He’s the only one of Tom's friends who’s not from school, don’t worry, you didn’t erase him from your memory.”
You stifle a laugh before it gets loud.
“Good, I was starting to feel bad about not recognizing him.”
In reality, his existence doesn’t matter much to you either way, except for something. “Are him and Cassie a thing?”
“She says it’s something casual but, and don’t tell her about this, I paired them up together on purpose so they can finally realize that they like each other!”
Your lungs clear of air in an instant after hearing those words. She’s not available. She has a boyfriend, sort of. A boyfriend who you do not know nor have feelings for.
“Your secret's safe with me.”
“Mingyu's nice and all, but if he messes with my plan and charms her, I will personally revoke his invitation to the wedding.”
You both chuckle just as the song finally ends, yours quieter than hers. Both of them see you with Olivia, but only Cassie comes forward to say hi.
“Hey girls! Good to see you!” She gives you a little hug before directing to Olivia. “So… Tyler isn’t showing up, I assume.”
“He told me a few minutes ago that something came up and can’t come, sorry.”
Her hand flies to Cassie's shoulders to comfort her, but she doesn’t seem bummed by the news.
“Well, then, I have something to ask you.”
Her presence suddenly becomes overwhelming as she grins at you with a proposition in mind, seemingly all thought out.
“Are you close with Mingyu? Olivia told me you were classmates.”
How did she know? Maybe you did tell her about him after all.
“He used to be my lab partner. Why?”
“How did you not crush on him back then? He’s such a cutie.”
“I probably did, I don’t remember.” Lie.
“Could you find out if he has a girlfriend, pleeease?”
A buzzing sound is all you hear for a few seconds, like your brain forgets how to function. Words don’t come out, and you’re freezed in place as Cassie looks at you expectantly. To the side, Olivia looks just as puzzled by her request.
“W-why?”
“Because, he’s really hot and, if I need a quick rebound because of that other fucker, I need to know I’m not messing with a relationship.”
Silence is all you produce once again.
“I just need a tiny bit of info, and it’ll be weird if I ask him directly, so could you please try?”
“Sure… I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.”
You’ve never sounded less excited about something in your whole life. You love some gossip and some drama, but not if it involves a genuinely nice guy like Mingyu being used. Or maybe it’s just because it’s him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Cassie jumps excitedly and hugs you once again, just as the dance teacher calls for everyone to gather.
Mingyu’s hands slot carefully at the sides of your waist, guiding you swiftly and sparking goosebumps across your back. Your arms wrap awkwardly around his neck, making him crouch a bit so you can look properly at each other.
“Were you always this good? Or did you become a professional waltz dancer in the half hour I wasn’t here?”
You remember him telling you the other day, during your endless text conversations, that he, like you, wasn’t particularly excited about dancing.
“Let’s say, hypothetically, that I practiced before coming here, what would that say about me? Hypothetically.”
“It would say that,” you drown out a cackle before you can continue, “you take your duty as a groomsman very seriously, hypothetically.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want you to think I was a dork, hypothetically.”
“You’re too late, I already thought that.”
A pout forms on his mouth at your giggles, and he flashes the world's most menacing puppy eyes ever.
“I mean it in the best way possible!”
“Isn’t it embarrassing?”
“It’s cute!”
His face shifts with skepticism, sending enough signals saying he didn’t like your choice of words.
“It’s charming!”
The warmth his body emanates wraps around you fast. His expectant eyes looking down at you and the closeness of your bodies rises your temperature in record time, your cheeks pinking up furiously. You keep talking as the nervousness takes over you.
“At least it worked! You’re a really good dancer, I’m sorry I keep missing the beats.”
“You’re giving me too much credit. You’re not that bad.”
“Now you’re just lying. My limbs are physically unable to coordinate more than three steps. You’re guiding me through every single one!”
His hands tighten just the tiniest bit around your waist, like a confirmation for the both of you that they’re still there.
The teacher’s voice echoes all around you until it finally punctures your bubble, and you’re able to hear the class you’re here for. The steps she’s explaining for a second time make no sense in your head, too many turns and moves for you (and your body) to comprehend.
“I need all the pairs to practice the final steps again.”
Only her final words make sense on your mind, and when you look towards Mingyu, his hand left its place on your body and is extended at you, his eyes kind yet concentrated back on the dance. You nod, taking his hand with an electrifying rush going through your veins.
Mingyu guides you firmly but with care, moving along the beats of the waltz. With each step, your synchronization improves, and the moves flow along easily, your bodies understanding each other. You can’t help but smile as you look him in the eyes, a familiar warm feeling bubbling up inside you.
“You're doing a really good job.”
His eyes catch yours, a little wrinkle forming by each of their sides before he cracks a smile to match yours. There’s something in the way he looks like when paying attention to you, like a spell being casted on you, making you crave more.
“It’s because it’s comfortable with you.”
Your mouth betrays you and sends out the words without checking with your brain, but weirdly enough, you don’t fear his reaction. It’s just the truth.
“We’re more in synch than you thought.”
You swear you see a glimpse of a smirk before he spins you in his arms.
As you turn and move together through the song, you think your excitement isn't solely because of the rehearsal going well. It could be simply a wish, but a spark of something is definitely lighting up. The way Mingyu holds you, attentive and confident, you can't help to think he feels it too.
“You think we can be this good the day of the wedding?”
There’s more anticipation than curiosity in your voice, remembering you’ll keep meeting until then, you’ll keep seeing him.
Mingyu reaches closer until his warm breath fans your ear and his lips graze your cheek.
“We could meet a few days before and practice, like I hypothetically did today.”
“You think I need practice?” You tease to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Maybe it’s an excuse to see you again.”
A mix of shyness and giddiness overtakes you as you giggle at his proposition. But in the midst of your interaction, you skip a crucial move and begin to turn, stepping right on one of Mingyu’s feet and almost tripping over to the side. His hand secures you by the waist, the hem of your t-shirt raised just enough so his fingers brush your fiery bare skin.
“Ok, maybe I do need the practice too.”
The teacher talks to you on the background, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything other than Mingyu’s touch lighting fires across your body, his worried eyes over your ‘almost’ fall, and his smile when he realizes you’re laughing at your clumsiness.
The music starts over, and you only realize it because his hand is extended at you once again.
“Let’s give it another try.”
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“So, you didn’t get to ask him?”
“I’m sorry, I forgot about it. I was so focused on learning the dance that it slipped my mind.”
Running into Cassie coming out of the subway was the last thing you expected (and wanted) right now. Trying on dresses is the one bridesmaid related thing you were least excited about. So many hours of putting clothes on and off, picking colors, showing the rest of the girls, giving your opinion on their dresses, and listening to their opinions on yours. It just sounds so exhausting. But your mental pep talk got interrupted when Cassie saw you walking up the stairs of the station heading to the bridal shop.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
“He didn’t say anything that would imply he has one, if that helps.”
More than a helping hand to her, you're starting to hope he’s single too.
“That’s good to know, thank you.”
“I don’t really get why you wanted to know, though. I thought you had a boyfriend.”
“He’s not... I mean, it’s not like, official. I wanted him to get jealous, but I'm over that now.”
“Oh, so... you talked about it with him?"
“Kind of... he just explained why he couldn’t come to the rehearsal, and I just, couldn’t get mad at him simply for that, right?”
“Right...”
You know virtually nothing about their ‘relationship’, or about him for that matter, so it’s maybe for the best to stay out of their… thing.
“Anyway, about today, do you have something in mind for your dress?”
“Not really, I was just thinking of browsing through the store and seeing what they have.”
“Wow, really? You’re so chill about it. I have a pinterest board with all the styles and shapes I like. I even checked their online store to see what they have in stock beforehand.”
“That’s… actually really smart.”
“Nah, don’t be nice. Did you at least think of a color? Olivia wants all of us to be different colors, but in pastel, obviously. I personally didn’t really care about it, but I chose pink after some thought.”
“Oh, actually, I didn't know that.”
“It’s okay, you can decide when we get there.”
“Did the rest of the girls choose already?”
“Maybe? I haven’t had the chance to ask them.”
“I hope I don’t get green then, I don’t really like how it looks on me.”
“You’ll look amazing either way. Don’t let a simple color wear you down!”
Small talk with Cassie turns out to be quite nice in the short walk you have up to the store. It's a pretty shallow conversation, but not at all stressful like you thought.
The place is really fancy looking, tall glass windows and blinding white interior. It makes you take a breath just by looking at the displayed dresses. Relieved that Olivia said multiple times that she’ll take care of everything and not to worry about the prices, you and Cassie walk inside.
You didn’t expect every girl to be already there, and you especially didn’t expect the groomsmen to be also all there. The girls browse through racks and racks of different shaped and colored dresses, and the men are sitting back, talking with one another, waiting for their bridesmaid to ask for their opinion.
Cassie goes straight to greet Mingyu with a hug. Even if he isn’t the closest one to the door. Even if Tyler is there also. And you walk behind her, slowly, shy because of all the people aware of your arrival. You give Mingyu a shy smile as a greet, and he returns it warmly.
After the dance rehearsal all those days back, you’ve been hesitant about contacting him again. There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s quite the opposite, actually. He’s caring, attentive, and kind towards you. You just don’t want to fall in your black hole of a crush on him again. especially after Cassie made it clear to you that he’s caught her eye too. Sure, she just told you she made up with her boyfriend, but her actions are already contradicting her words.
Olivia sees you with Cassie and walks quickly towards you two with a smile on her face.
“Hey girls! How do you like the store?! Isn’t it huge?”
“It’s unbelievable! I’m gonna need at least two hours to look through all the dresses!”
Cassie answers, staring at the lengthy room in awe. You can feel Mingyu’s eyes on you. Or maybe on Cassie. Regardless, you’re in his line of sight, and it gives you chills.
“Well, you have all the time in the world today. I reserved the whole store for the entire day for all of us, and the staff is also here to help us if needed, so don’t worry about asking for help!”
“That’s amazing!” You both exclaim at the same time.
“Thank you!” Cassie doesn’t look back and goes straight to the racks of pink dresses. You’re about to go and walk around as well. Maybe try to find a color that suits you, but Olivia stops you before you can even take a step.
“Wait! I got the list of the available colors left for you,” she hands you a sheet of paper with almost everything on it crossed out, “I’m sorry, I know there isn’t much left.”
“Oh don’t worry, it’s fine. I should’ve picked it earlier. It’s not your fault.”
It’s disappointing to see that only two items aren’t crossed out. Light teal and pastel green. Green and teal aren’t ugly colors by any means, but you always feel awkward when wearing them, so you’ve learned to avoid them. The back of your throat itches to close as you think about looking ugly at the wedding, in front of so many people, in front of him.
“I saw some of the teal dresses earlier, and they’re all super cute! You’ll look amazing!”
“Oh, ok, I’ll go check them out. But, just in case, isn’t there any way for me to change colors?”
“You could ask someone to swap with you.”
Your mind instantly goes to Cassie. Earlier, she told you she didn’t care which color she wore, maybe she wouldn’t mind switching with you. You spot her easily on one corner, asking Mingyu about his opinion. She looks up at him with glittery eyes as one of her hands places itself on his arm. The sight turns your stomach upside down. You want to stop watching the scene as much as you want to break them apart.
Your legs make the decision for you and walk you to where they’re standing. They don’t notice you walking over to them until you speak up.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt you guys, but Cassie, could I ask you something?”
Mingyu’s the first one to look up at you, his face lighting up as you interrupt whatever Cassie was saying to him. She’s slower, making sure to hang the dress back on the rack before turning to face you.
“What do you need?”
There's very little annoyance on her tone, but you don’t miss the way her eyebrows arch and her eyes dart to Mingyu, signaling you that she wants some alone time.
“I wanted to ask if you, by any chance, were willing to switch colors with me?”
“What happened? Which ones are left?”
“Basically, just green.”
“Oh, that’s such a bummer.”
There’s a silence when she finishes talking. You wait for her to continue, blinking at her, but she just doesn’t. Her sentence ended there.
“Yeah, so, would you swap with me?”
“I…” Her body language turns awkward as she thinks of an answer, side-eyeing Mingyu, who’s also waiting for her, but with no context to what you’re asking her.
“I just, you said you didn’t really care about the color, so I thought you wouldn’t mind changing it.”
You huff, not helping the awkward atmosphere around the three of you. Your eyes connect with Mingyu’s, who's silently watching the interaction from the side. You hate that he’s seeing you in such a state, so... desperate for something that’s not that big of a deal anyway. You need this interaction to be over.
“You’re right, I did say that,” you can already see where this is going, “but, I kinda already put my mind to it, and it took a lot of convincing to get Tyler to match with me. He already bought his suit, and I don’t want to make him mad by changing everything so suddenly, I’m sorry.”
“Oh…”
You can feel your stomach contracting, your throat threatening to close, your eyes getting ready to be filled with tears. This is so stupid. It’s just a stupid color. It's a stupid dress you’ll never wear again. Why is it affecting you so much?
“Wait, I’m sure Tyler wouldn’t mind changing.”
Mingyu’s soft voice sounds closer to you, but you can’t really see much with your eyes trained to the ground and vision blurry from tearing up.
“No, it’s fine, let’s not bother him.”
Blinking away the tears is easy, but looking up and finding a concerned Mingyu makes you feel like jelly. Cassie’s long forgotten as you focus on him, his tall figure watching over you, his hand placed on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, silently comforting you.
“I’ll go try and find something I like.”
“I can look with you if you want.”
“No, it’s fine, you can go back to what you were doing.”
You walk away, leaving him standing there, still worried about your sudden reaction. Cassie is just behind him, waiting for the opportunity to get his attention back.
But you try not to think about him or her while browsing through the store. Trying your best to be positive, to not get dragged down by a simple color choice, or by a friend – if you can call her that – that couldn’t help you.
Hours go by, and it’s easier when you focus on other things. You help the other girls decide on their dresses, reacting and applauding, helping them find new ones if they aren’t satisfied. It’s fun, contrary to what you previously thought, it’s like playing a dress up game, except every now and then, it’s Cassie who comes out on the make-shift runway, and the first opinion she asks for is always Mingyu's.
At one point, everyone has already decided, and you’re the only one left. All the girls you helped come together to try and find you the best possible dress, bringing a new one to you with hopeful smiles on their faces every few minutes.
You try them on, eager to find one and be done with it. But, even if they look gorgeous when on the hanger, they always got something that doesn’t sit right with you when you put them on. And after trying dress after dress, you grow more discouraged.
Olivia notices how tired you are and tells you that you can come back another day, alone and less anxious, but then again, that would mean stretching the situation for longer than needed. You decide to try on one more dress, one that Olivia picked specifically for you, and if you’re not satisfied, you’ll come back with her the next day.
The store lady helps you put the dress on, her sweet smile never fading, even if it’s the tenth dress she helped you put on already. The pastel green silk fabric glides smoothly over your skin, hugging you in the right places as the lady zips it up. Your back’s facing the mirror, too afraid to look in it again and find another disappointing result.
“Sweetheart, I think this is the one.”
The kind woman’s voice startles you, but her honest smile makes you believe her words. You inhale deeply, calming yourself before turning around. But instead of looking at your reflection, you walk outside the changing room and onto the lobby.
Every pair of eyes is on you the moment you step out, your arms wrap around your torso in an effort to shield yourself, and you can feel your cheeks being painted a bright red color. A few gasps are heard, and when you look around, the girls who helped you are all covering their mouths, eyes wide as they watch you cautiously strolling forward.
At the back of the store, it’s like time stops for Mingyu. Whatever he was doing, forgotten at the sight of you. He was unaware of how much your appearance could affect him. His eyes are trained on you, allured by your figure, scanning you up and down like a piece of art worth studying.
Buzz erupts all around you, mumbles and praises about your dress and how you look in it, but it’s all background noise for you. Mingyu’s heavy stare finds yours, and his ears turn a faint shade of pink. The subtlest smirk begins to form on his lips, spreading the warm feeling on your tummy all across your body. He can’t seem to drive his eyes away from you, and you don’t want him to. Your arms relax under his gaze, disarming the protective shield around you and drop to hang by your sides.
But, in a matter of seconds, the girls swarm around you, blocking all 360 degrees around you. Their positive opinions flood your ears as they walk you back to the dressing room, trying to convince you to choose this dress. You can’t look back, but you’re sure all the groomsmen left together.
Doesn’t matter. You’re definitely getting this one.
After spending the whole day shopping together, it marvels you how these girls still want to spend time together. When they noticed all the boys left, they planned an impromptu girls' night at Olivia’s apartment.
It’s amazing how they can spend hours and hours talking with each other, a few drinks here and there, never running out of topics, entertaining you when you’re too tired to talk.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you sit back on your side of the couch to read the new text.
Mingyu: hey, how are you?
Mingyu: sorry i couldn’t stay today, they dragged me to a boys night
Everything that happened a few hours ago flashes through your mind, waking a giddy smile on your face as you reply.
You: why are you sorry?
You: the girls wanted to do a ‘boys free’ night, we’re at Olivia’s rn
Mingyu: i didnt want to leave before making sure you were okay
Oh.
You: im better now
You: it was fun helping the other girls, took my mind off of it
You: but thank you, you didnt have to worry
Mingyu: good to know :)
Mingyu: next time ill drive you home
You: drive me home? Will i sit on the bike's handlebar?
Mingyu: i was thinking more like a piggyback ride
You: hmm... ill have to think about it
You tune back to the conversation before anyone notices you not paying attention, having no idea what turns the topic has taken in the time you weren’t listening.
“I think he’s definitely seeing someone.”
The girls divided into two groups with different conversations going on, but sitting in front of Cassie, you can only hear her side of the table. They might be talking about Tyler and their “relationship” problems.
“I really don’t think he is. He didn’t use his plus one you know.”
A smile forms in your mouth when your phone vibrates in your hand once again.
Mingyu: can you believe the wedding’s so close already
You: times moving so fast
You: i cant believe its less than two weeks away
Mingyu: it feels like it was only yesterday that tom told me he was getting married
“But today, he didn’t seem at all interested, he was really out of it from the start.”
“Maybe seeing dresses all day is not his thing.”
“No but like, I tried every move on him, and he didn’t even bat an eye.”
Bits and pieces of the still going conversation manage to register on your mind, and you realize they’re talking about Mingyu, unaware of your current chat with him.
You: is the boys only hang out getting boring? Its not very polite to be on the phone you know
Mingyu: theyre all playing games, havent looked my way in over 30 mins
Mingyu: besides i much rather talk with you
You: well i wont argue with that
Mingyu: you seem bored too
You: you’re definitely helping me get through the night
“Maybe he’s just not interested in you.”
Olivia teases Cassie, even though her comment is more than just a joke. But why is Cassie so adamant on wooing Mingyu if, according to Olivia, she really likes Tyler?
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Mingyu: you know what I just realized
Mingyu: I forgot the dance routine already
You: omg me too
You: we might have to meet to practice like you said
Mingyu: we can do it at my place
Mingyu: you up for it?
You: i should ask you that
You: your feet are going to suffer because of me
Mingyu: that’s a risk im willing to take
Mingyu: but I gotta warn you, I take my practice very seriously
You: sure, you can carry me back to my apartment after we're done
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Sitting on Mingyu’s couch, waiting for him to get back from the bathroom, you’re too tired to do anything else than looking around his living room. It’s so him. The warm and neutral colors make everything feel cozy, with pictures of him and his family hanging on the walls – no ambiguously romantic photos with unfamiliar girls, and everything is so tidy, not one pillow out of place, even after practicing for over an hour. Out the window, you can see the sun starting to set, and the buildings across the street start lighting up. You recognize all of them. 
All this time, he’s lived so close to you. His building barely a ten minute walk away from yours. You can’t help but wonder, what would’ve happened if you kept in touch, if you just walked two more minutes to the park he frequents, or sent him a follow request on Instagram the few times he popped up on your recommended. It comforts you that at least you have this chance to reconnect with him, to make things right. 
But sounding confident over text is easy, and now, you’ve only danced for the whole time you’ve been here, barely even talked about anything else. 
It’s conflicting, the guilt of meeting with Mingyu behind everyone’s back – even if it’s no one’s business –, the excitement of seeing him alone after weeks of only wedding related stuff, and the actual need to practice the dance so you don’t embarrass yourself, all colliding in your mind, making everything awkward for you. 
Like ten thousand spectators, the windows of every apartment watch you through the glass, just sitting, waiting. Mingyu left only a couple of minutes ago, but after the many times you stepped on him, you wonder if he’s actually hurt. 
“Are you okay? Tell me if I need to call a doctor for your feet!” 
You shout with your head looking towards the bathroom door. His chuckle travels all the way to your ears before he opens the door. 
“I’m fine, I swear.” 
As he comes out, your body tingles with nervousness once again. He sits beside you on the couch, unknowingly making your head spin. 
“You sure? I don’t think feet are supposed to withstand all of that.” 
“I’m okay, just tired, why don’t we rest for a bit?” 
They way he sits, on his side, facing you, and his arm resting on the back of the couch, your eyes can’t help but wander to where his arm muscles start showing. Every variation of the phrase “butterflies in your stomach" could describe the way you feel as he watches you, paying so much attention that you mumble your next sentence. 
“This couch is way too comfortable. It makes me want to just stay here the rest of the day.” 
“Let’s do it! We can even have dinner here. If we order take out, we can tell them to leave it at the door.” 
“That sounds nice, but one of us will have to go get it.” 
“When my roommate comes home, he’ll bring it inside for us.” 
“Oh my god, you have a roommate? When is he coming back? I don’t want to be a bother.” You look towards the entry hallway, like he’s about to come in and kick you out. 
You really don’t want to leave, Mingyu’s company is already becoming one of your favorites, but you hadn’t counted on being around another person, and in their home for that matter. You start to get up from where you’re sitting, worried about having overstayed your welcome, but Mingyu’s hand grabs yours softly and drags you back down. 
“I invited you here. It’s not like you’re trespassing.” 
“But I’ve been here for hours, is it not too much?” 
“I guess I don't want you to leave.” 
His hand hasn't let go of yours, his skin against yours waking up your whole nervous system. You like how it feels when he’s looking at you, but you can’t help feeling too observed under his gaze. 
“Should we practice one more time?” You get up as your other hand takes Mingyu’s free one to try and get him off the couch too. He doesn’t fight your push, but you still struggle to move him barely an inch. 
“Now that I think about it, my feet do really hurt.” 
When he stands up, your hands dreadly separate as you go press play on the song you had paused earlier. 
“You’re a big and strong man, you can handle one more dance.” 
The music starts slowly, and when you turn around to go where Mingyu’s standing, he’s quick to put his hands around your waist and bring you to him. 
Like that day in the dance class, your bodies are quickly coordinated. You’ve been over the same dance for over an hour now, so at this point, every step is engrained in your muscle memory forever. 
“Why don’t you take the lead on this one?” He might’ve felt your sudden confidence in the moves, but fails to realize it’s only because you’re doing it with him. 
“Do you have a death wish? The last time I tried to take the lead on a dance like this, it ended really badly.” 
“But you’re doing good now! I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad.” 
“Don’t you remember the senior prom? When I made my date trip and he fell onto the chocolate fountain? He got completely covered in melted chocolate.” He shakes his head, making you more confused. “He dislocated his shoulder. You really don’t remember? 
“I don’t-” He chuckles at your story but stops his words when he realizes you don’t get what he wants to say, “We left early.” 
“Oh… I guess you had a good time with your date.” Thinking about him with someone else puts a bad taste in your mouth. 
“I didn’t have a date, I went with the guys.” Somehow, that’s less believable than you being a good dancer. 
“I vaguely remember seeing you dance with a girl. Is my memory failing me?” You remember because you hated it. 
“Maybe I did dance with someone, but I couldn’t score a real date.” 
“You can’t be serious.” 
“I am! Why don’t you believe me? 
“Because I knew at least ten girls who had a crush on you back then.” 
The dance is already forgotten. None of you make the effort to go over the moves. With your arms hanging around his neck and his hands holding on to your waist, you’re just going around in slow circles, eyes connected as your talk turns into something more. 
“Well, I wasn’t interested in them.” 
“But still, you could’ve easily gotten a date.” You could let the subject go, and maybe you should, but you really want to make your point. “I would’ve gone with you.” 
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 
“But I mean it.” 
“You wouldn’t have gone with me.” 
“You don’t know that.” 
“Yes I do!” His tone gets serious, and it just makes you more desperate to make him understand. He needs to know he’s wrong. 
“No, you don’t! You would know if you had asked!” 
“I wanted to! 
You stop in your tracks, looking straight into his eyes, seeing little hints of shock on his face as he realizes what he said. If your bodies were closer, you’re afraid he could feel that you stopped breathing for a second. 
“Why didn’t you?” 
“Because I knew at least ten guys who had crushes on you back then,” you’re about to shut him off, but he continues, “and you did end up going with one of them.” 
“So, you did see me.” 
“Yeah, didn’t stay much after that."
None of you know what to say, as your minds work tirelessly to understand what this conversation means. 
“You really should’ve asked me.” There’s so much more you want to say, but you simply can’t. 
“You were kind of popular and, I don’t know… It messed with my head.” 
“I didn’t care about those stupid labels, and I thought you didn’t either.” 
“I know you didn’t, but I wasn’t a confident kid back then, I couldn’t just go up to the girl I liked and ask her out.” 
Your jaw reaches the floor after hearing those words. The girl he liked? 
Speechless for a few seconds, you can only look at him, trying to figure out if he meant to say those words specifically. He seems to be proud of what he said, showing no sign of regret. 
“So, now that you’re all grown up…” you dare to let your fingers caress the skin at the base of his neck, and his hands tighten around you at the touch. 
“One would think that, after so many years, things would’ve changed but-” 
“I don’t believe you’re not confident by now.” 
“That did change, but apparently, other things didn’t, even after growing up.” 
He tilts his head to the side cockily, his piercing gaze making you feel hot all over. 
“Maybe some things aren’t meant to change.” Like an adrenaline rush, it’s your turn to feel confident as one of your hands starts playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I'm starting to discover some things are not that different for me either.” 
“Could it be, perhaps, the same thing I’m talking about?” His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him little by little. 
“Hmm, I don’t know, you’re being very vague, I could be talking about still enjoying country music.” You joke so he doesn’t notice your heart beating twice as hard as normal. 
“I think you know what I mean.” His smirk is one new thing about him, not that you’ve never seen it before, but the reason behind it makes it way more thrilling to see now. 
“I want to hear you say it.” 
“You really didn’t know? I mean, back then, I always thought I made it obvious.” His chuckle sends shivers down your spine. 
“I wish I did.” You can’t help but think about how your life would be if you made a move on him all those years ago. “But I never said anything either, I was shy too.” 
“Good thing we can make up for the time we lost.”
His droopy eyes send you down a spiral you have a hard time coming back from, all your insides becoming putty, feeling his want through his embrace, but there’s still one more thing to get to. 
“You know… you say you’re so confident now and whatnot, but I still haven’t heard you say it.” The look you give him is all he needs 
“Fine, you win, I used to like you, and seeing you again made me realize I still kinda really do, I’m always eager to get your attention and to spend time with you.” He pauses to take the quickest breath ever, all while you’re losing yours. “I know we’re not the same people as back then, but if you want to, we can get to know each other, again, more mature and less stupid. I have my regrets about how I handled my feelings in the past, but I won’t make the same mistakes again. And I will ask you on a date after the wedding, just a heads up.” 
“Wow, I was fine with just an ‘I like you’, but it’s nice to see you’re just as down bad for me as I am for you.” You confess with a joke because, how can you possibly answer that? Your brain is barely receiving enough oxygen as it is. 
“And one last thing, I really, really, really, want to kiss you right now.” 
“Then why are you not doing it?” 
It takes a second for the words to register in his head. A second where you only look at each other, almost not believing what’s happening. The air around you gets so thick, so hot, almost unbearably heavy. And just when your hands begin to push his head your way, his lips attack yours.  
All the resurfacing feelings come to life, colliding like a thousand stars that have been running to meet for millions of years. His arms around you bring your body closer to his, forcing you on your tiptoes to follow his lead while his hair tangles between your fingers. 
It's surprisingly slow, yet hungry and desperate, making the other feel everything through the connection of your lips. You move along with him naturally, and when he bites your lower lip as a request for access, you don’t hesitate. His hands creep under your shirt just as his tongue dares to move past your lips, exploring your whole body to his liking. 
Your chests flush together, leaving little to no space between your bodies, and you can do nothing but melt in his embrace. Your hands wander around his arms and back, touching and feeling every muscle they encounter on their way. When his hands travel down your lower back and reach your ass, you sigh on his lips and immediately feel his smirk against you. 
A furious knock on the door makes you both jump and separate, leaving you looking at each other, breathless and with confused faces, until you hear a knock again, as strong as the first one. That’s when Mingyu decides to check his phone and sees it's his roommate, who had apparently forgotten his keys. Both a blessing and a curse. 
“Bro, what the hell? I’ve been calling you for about 15 minutes.” You hear the door opening, followed by a new, deep voice. 
“I told you I had company.” Their voices echo through the hallway. 
When they finally reach the living room where you’ve been awkwardly trying to make yourself look presentable, the roommate's face morphs into something, a mix of surprise and realization. You rush to gather your stuff after muttering some variation of ‘hello’ and 'goodbye' to him. Your heart still pumps twice as fast as normal, and you don’t trust you’ll be able to handle yourself if you stay for longer. 
“I’ll see you on the weekend?” Mingyu asks when you’ve both reached the entry, his hand on the handle, hesitant to unlock the door. 
You want to kiss him again so badly. His lips are parted, still swollen, calling to you to connect them with yours again. 
“Find me when you crash the bachelorette party.” You make your best effort to sound confident and not at all dizzy because of him.  
“You know about that?” 
“The bridesmaids know everything... It’s only a surprise for Olivia.” You peck him goodbye, like a promise for more. And the feeling of his lips on yours lasts all night.
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It’s roughly around 1 am. when a high-pitched scream from Olivia announces to everyone at the bar that the bachelor party has officially arrived. 
The effects from all the alcohol you consumed in the last 4 hours are just starting to fade, only a little buzz left. But that doesn’t prevent you from seeing what’s happening all the way across the room. 
Mingyu standing with his hip resting on the barstool, listening to Cassie as she drunkenly asks him something. You want to stop looking, not wanting to let all your previous feelings resurface again, not after the recent development in your relationship with him. But just as soon as you’re about to turn your head the other way, Mingyu interrupts Cassie’s rumbling and tells her something, to which she doesn’t respond, nods awkwardly, and just walks away, leaving him standing there. 
That’s your signal to walk over to him. 
“Looks like I found you first.” 
“Damn, I wanted to get you a drink first.” 
The music and the people drunkenly signing and shouting makes it hard for your voices to reach the other, and Mingyu takes the opportunity to take a step closer to you. 
You stand against the bar as the room grows warmer and warmer the closer his body gets to yours. His height taunts you as he stands against the bar as well, forcing you to look up so you can see the smirk on his face. His fingers play with yours as the intensity of his stare increases. You don’t care that you’re in public, that anyone from the wedding can see you two. Maybe you want them to. 
“How’s your night going?” His hair tickles the side of your face. 
“It was really fun, I might be growing fond of the girls." You don’t remember much, just a vague memory of many different games you played to get drunk, and the feeling of being happy. “How about yours? Don’t tell me you went to a strip club or something like that.” 
“Actually, we did a drunk escape room, didn’t even know those existed until today.”
The closeness between you is getting more worrying by the second, mainly because if you hear his low chuckle next to your ear one more time, you might pass out. 
“That sounds horrible!” You chuckle away from his personal space, only to encounter his hungry eyes already looking at you. 
“It was fun, I wish you could’ve been there.” His honesty has a sultry tone to it that makes your lungs completely empty of air. 
“I’m not sure we would’ve made a good team.” 
“Why? You’re smart! Or at least you were back then.” 
“Hey! I still am!” 
“I really have to get to know this new you.”
The pink and blue lights reflect on his face, giving him the most beautiful sparkles on his eyes, directed at you. 
“It’s not that new, I’m still very introverted, don’t talk much when there’s a lot of people around.” 
“I like that, you’re observant, good thing to be while in a escape room.” 
“We’re still talking about that?” 
“Maybe, maybe not, I don’t really care, I just wanted to spend time with you.” 
“Are you drunk?” You can only ask with a smile plastered on your face, but he shakes his head. 
“You kinda make me feel like I’m a teenage boy again, I don’t know how to explain it.” 
“I think I get it.” You place your hand on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart under it, even harder than the music blasting out of the speakers. 
“You know, back then, every time I had a free period, I would make my friends walk past whatever class you had, just to get to see you, at least for a second.” Out of everything he’s drunkenly confessing, this may be the one that surprises you the most because you really never realized he felt the same. He notices you freezing in place. “Once they found out, I was relentlessly bullied by them.” 
“I sure hope it was worth it.” If the lighting was any better, he'd be able to see the cherry red covering your cheeks and ears. 
“Every second of it.” Everything around the two of you moves slower, like time’s stopping only for the outside world, and the muffled background noises do nothing to pierce the bubble around you. “I really want to take you on a date, a real one.” 
“I would very much like that.” 
You can see the gears turning through Mingyu’s eyes, and you move your eyes down to his lips so he can take the hint. But nothing happens as someone else enters your little world. 
Olivia’s aware that something’s going on, her eyes switching back and forth between the two of you before she speaks. 
“I need your help, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m getting worried about her.” 
“About who? What happened?” Mingyu stays behind you as you turn to Olivia, grabbing one of your hands, and his warmth gives you goosebumps. 
“It’s Cassie, she’s been sitting alone in the restroom for I don’t know how long, she's way too drunk and I can’t take care of her.”
You now realize she’s slurring her words, meaning she’s also too drunk and therefore can’t take care of another drunk person, leaving you no choice but to go help Cassie. You look back at Mingyu, who encourages you to go, even if it takes a little too long for his hand to let go of yours. 
The graffitied restroom provides you with a little more light than the rest of the place, and when you enter, you recognize Cassie sitting on the floor inside one of the stalls. Luckily there’s no one guarding the bathrooms because if she’s seen throwing up, it could potentially get you both kicked out. 
You sit on the dirty floor beside her without saying a word, letting her know you’re here to help without giving her a headache. Her forehead’s resting on top of her knees as she hugs her legs tightly. But after a minute or two of silence, you decide it’s best to check if she’s at least awake. 
“Cassie? Are you okay?” Your hand on her shoulder makes her look up at you. 
“I don’t feel so good, I just want to sit down for a while.” She sounds tired, her husky voice giving away all the talking and singing she’s been doing all night. 
“Do you need anything? I can get you a cup of water.” 
“No, please, just stay here a bit, I didn’t want anyone to see me but I don’t want to be alone.” 
“Ok, I’ll stay, let me know if you need something, anything.” 
Time passes by, the music making it easier for you to not get bored. A few people enter the restroom from time to time, too drunk or too in a hurry to notice you both sitting down. Olivia passes by the door a few times, hovering, checking if everything’s okay (and if you’re still in the same position as the previous time). You just smile and nod, letting her go back to her party time and time again. But at last, in one of her check-ins, she finally walks inside. 
“Hey, Mingyu’s looking for you!” Both you and Cassie look up at Olivia, but her eyes point at you. “What do I tell him?” 
You instinctively look to Cassie by your side, and her expression falls. 
“Don’t, don’t go with him.” She finds the strength to plead to you, but she seems more worried than anything. 
“Why? Did he do something? Is that why you’re hiding here?” Olivia asks, and you realize she didn’t leave after you didn’t answer her. 
“No, no, I mean, yes I’m hiding from him, but he didn't do anything, it was me, I embarrassed myself.” 
“Why are you telling me not to go with him then?” 
“Do you like him?” 
“I-” Wow, blunt question out of the blue. 
“You can be honest, it’s fine.” 
“Yeah, I do, I like him.”
Telling them, her, the truth feels kind of freeing. Finally admitting in front of them that you like someone, after not being able to for so many years, it’s like you can finally breathe. 
“Then, for your own good, don’t go with him, he’s seeing someone.” 
“What? How do you know?” That freedom lasts barely seconds before a new weight falls right on top of your lungs. 
“He told me, when the guys got here, he said that he’s been after a girl for years and they recently started going out.” 
“Are you sure? Did he use those words?” 
“I’m not saying it verbatim, I don’t remember it exactly word for word, but that’s what he meant.” 
Could he possibly be talking about you? How recent is ‘recently’ supposed to mean? You haven’t even started officially dating. Is confessing your feelings considered the start of dating? Is it supposed to be this confusing? Are you going to believe her? Not that Cassie’s a liar, but you don’t know the context nor the exact words he used, and she doesn’t know what happened between you and him either. 
“Should I go tell him something?” Olivia's already standing up, your silence not helping the situation. 
“Just-" You don’t want to push him away, but it’s not the time to resolve this. The whole thing is too confusing to be making desperate decisions at this hour of the night, “Tell him to go have fun with the guys, I’m getting Cassie home.” 
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The loudest alarm you could’ve ever set up wakes you up with a jump. Your head hurts like your inside out emotions are building houses inside your skull. But the memories still hit you as soon as your eyelids burst open. Some decisions were definitely made the night before. Wrong ones? That’s to be seen today.
And thanks to the gods and Olivia’s always late waking family, you’re not supposed to be at the venue until 11 am. Only bad news, It’s on a luxury complex outside the city. You have time for a real breakfast and a shower, but all the thinking and feeling will have to wait.
You unlock your phone to find the last text conversation open and the messages you barely remember sending stare at you through the dim screen.
Mingyu: you left so suddenly
Mingyu: everything ok?
You: yeah
You: had to take Cass to her place, she wasn’t feeling well
Mingyu: that’s too bad, hope she feels better
Mingyu: you just got home?
You: yep, about to go to bed
Mingyu: great, just checking before i head to sleep
Mingyu: sleep well, big day tomorrow
Admittedly, you were a little dry. Cassie’s words were still lingering on your mind, making you doubt everything. One side of your brain telling you that he was probably talking about you, he explained what he felt and what he wanted and sounded sure and truthful. But, the other part of your brain, the still self-conscious and self-doubting side, also makes valid points. The void years in between your relationship weren’t mentioned in his confession, and you technically aren’t dating. He hasn’t even asked you out yet! It’s too conflicting. But you know you have to face both of them today. After the ceremony.
The taxi ride to the venue is not only long but full of traffic. The sun shining bright directly to your face, the light humming of the driver to the songs of the radio and the occasional car horn on the distance, somehow make it bearable, with all the thoughts about the previous night, switching sides between the he said she said, it’s nice to have something constant while your minds goes on a rollercoaster.
A rollercoaster that doesn’t stop even when you arrive. As soon as you step foot outside the car, Olivia’s mom rushes you upstairs to where the make-up artists set up. There’s no time to admire the beautiful countryside venue. You walk past the door to where the ceremony’s going to be held later, but rush up the stairs without even looking. The green dress already waiting for you at the door, an infinite echo of voices and even more people running around make the atmosphere feel dizzying.
Nothing slows down for even a second. Even when you’re sitting down having your make-up done, around you there’s only people rushing to do everything, stressing about the little details, people running into the room to tell Olivia or her mom about decorations, the wedding planner coming in and out constantly, checking everything’s in order. It’s kind of beautiful how all this mess has the sole purpose of making today the best day for the couple. Even if it doesn’t look like it, no one will remember the dress that wasn’t properly ironed, or the string of hair that had too much hairspray on it, or the too slippery shoes that made it a chore to walk on the tiled floor.
So much chaos happens between the hair and make-up, and then with the photoshoots, you don’t have time to talk to Mingyu. Your eyes would cross from time to time, but those milliseconds of him in a suit glaring at you from across the room are enough, and there’s so much of that you can take before an internal chain reaction begins.
The walk downstairs, after all the make-up retouches and fixes to any rebellious stray hair that didn’t want to stay in place, feels like the first calm and slow moment of the day. As the steps get closer and closer to the bottom floor, the red carpet muffling the clicking of your shoes, your insides feel fire-like when you see Mingyu waiting for you by the final step, an unknowing smile on his face. His eyes drill holes on your figure, scanning you up and down shamelessly.
“You chose this one, I like it.” He whispers by your ear as you walk to the door, where every pair is already waiting. A little smile shows on your face, but it fades when your eyes encounter Cassie’s, watching the two of you with a frown so little you only notice because she immediately relaxes her face.
The music starts before you can say anything to Mingyu, and one by one, each of the bridesmaids start walking down the aisle, arms linked with the groomsmen, gracefully walking forward as the eyes of every guest fall on them. Your arm tangled with his is the first touch you share since many days ago, and even with all the conflict making your mind a blur, your heart speeds up at the feeling of his muscles.
Nothing seems slow anymore, and the ceremony almost goes by without noticing. There isn’t one second where you don’t feel Mingyu’s eyes on you, making it impossible to focus – or pretend to focus – on what the priest is saying.
The moment your brain reconnects with your ears, Thomas delivers the most beautiful vows you’ve ever heard. You met the guy only once, never even spoken to him, but the way he speaks so fondly about Olivia makes your heart clutch in your chest, and your throat tries to fight it, but you end up bursting with tears. But you’re not the only one with a cascade of dramatic tears falling with seemingly no end. As the room fills with applause and even some whistles at the first kiss between the officially married couple, you see some people with tissues, quietly blowing their nose.
But the never-ending rush in time continues, everyone sprinting to sit at their tables for the reception. The last retouches of make-up get done quickly. The girls gossip to kill the time before the dance, because for them it’s moving so slowly, but in the blink of an eye, you’re going out the door once again, just as Cassie taps on your shoulder. You turn to her, expecting her to be angry, or at least to start speaking, but it looks like she’s still figuring out what to say.
“Thank you, for taking care of me last night, I’m sure you would’ve preferred to enjoy the party.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you alone, it’s fine, you don’t have to thank me. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, I am! But actually, I wanted to apologize.” Your head spins, dizzy from the world suddenly stopping hearing her words. “I didn’t know there was something going on between you two.”
“There’s not- I mean, not much happened, I didn’t want to cause a fuzz over it.”
“But you should’ve told me you liked him, at least! If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have gone after him.” You see in her eyes nothing but honesty. “I know we’re not as close as before, but these are the things we need to tell each other. It’s the girl code.”
“I don’t really know why I didn’t, I know I should’ve, I didn’t know how.” You’ve now started to go downstairs to the reception, already the time to dance in pairs.
“Look, it’s okay if you’re not comfortable telling me this, but did something happen? Was he talking about you last night?”
You’ve reached where everyone is waiting, and you’re too embarrassed to look up and possibly find Mingyu standing there, leg-melting and breathtaking.
“I thought about it but I don’t know, maybe?”
Back at the reception, the music starts, signaling the newlyweds are about to begin their first dance, meaning in no time you’ll have to step in and dance around them.
“I’m going to ask you three questions and you just have to answer yes or no. There's no need for explanation, okay?”
“O…Kay?”
“So, you two knew each other in school, did you like him?” You nod shyly, not looking in her eyes, embarrassed to be talking about this so openly, “Did he like you?” You nod again, “And did something happen recently that would indicate that he would like to date you in the near future?”
You give her a final nod and finally look up at her. She sighs, taking your hand and squeezing it to make you pay attention.
“Then he meant you dummy! Go, talk to him. He’s been staring at you all day like a lost puppy.”
When you dare to look his way, where you just knew he was standing, he’s looking at you, a little smirk on his lips and subtly motioning he's ready to take your hand. You didn’t notice it was already time, and everyone around you stands in their position.
The pairs start entering one by one, and your smile trembles, feeling the eyes of every guest on you. Your fingers barely graze his, but they feel raw, like you can feel every particle of his hand below yours. The electric fire emerging from where your skin connects with his runs through your veins in record time.
But as soon as the music starts and Mingyu turns you so you’re looking at him, everything is forgotten. The steps come easily, his eyes calm but observing, his hand on your waist guiding you as he did every time you practiced.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He whispers, not wanting to disrupt the moment, but knowing it’s the only time you’ll get alone.
“I swear I didn’t mean to.”
You panic. There was so much to do and so few words you could come up with to say to him that maybe you unconsciously avoided him by locking yourself up in the make-up room.
“Did I do something wrong?” He doesn’t sound hurt, but rather just plain curious, eager to work this out between you two.
“No! it was just a misunderstanding,” he waits for you to continue, but the part of your brain that makes sense starts crumbling, making it impossible to form a coherent argument, “I- can I ask you something? It might sound stupid, I’m warning you.”
“Go ahead.” He chuckles, his feet continuing to dance while you've already forgotten about it. One of your hands stays on his shoulder, while the other is being held by him, still in the air by your sides, reaching the height of your shoulders.
“You’re not dating anyone, are you?”
He doesn’t let the silence even come close to the two of you, chuckling quietly so you’re the only one who can hear it.
“I’m not, hard to believe I know, but I’m painfully single.”
“Great, I just wanted to make sure.”
“I remember telling you I want to take you on a date.”
“Y-yeah, of course I remember that too."
The pit of your stomach lights up at the remainder of that afternoon in his home, your bodies as close as they are at this moment.
“Then what made you think that?”
“You just, you said to Cassie last night that you started seeing someone recently and, I don’t know, we didn’t technically start dating, so I panicked.” Saying it out loud to him, it sounds ridiculous, but if he thinks that, he doesn’t show it.
“Oh that, yeah, I might’ve gotten ahead of myself, but hey, think of it as manifesting.” He’s so charming that you don’t care that he’s making no sense.
“Next time, don’t tell a drunk girl who’s flirting with you the wrong information. She might spread it around.”
The synchronized chuckle you let out makes you pay attention to the forgotten situation. You’re dancing and haven’t tripped once, like your muscles got a life of their own and remembered every single step. And you suddenly realize how close your body is to Mingyu’s. One hand down the small of your back, pressing just enough to hold you in his personal space, his face close enough that you could concentrate on his breathing and feel the light exhales on your face.
When the music ends, the applause makes you look around, and your cheeks feel warm immediately, noticing all the eyes on every one of you. But the attention is short-lived, as you and Mingyu walk quickly to your table so the couple can do the welcome toasts. You don't miss how he slides your chair closer to his before you sit down.
Sitting by your side, Mingyu’s body and yours are connected by an electric current, drawing you closer. His knee stays glued to yours, and the cut on the side of your dress allows your bare skin to brush against the fabric of his pants. A conversation takes place between everyone at the table, one of the guys telling a story about something funny that happened with Tom back in high-school, but it’s hard to pay any real attention when Mingyu’s fingers start tracing circles on your knee. He’s not even doing to be a tease. It seems like it’s a habit of his, one that you’re just discovering. You don’t stop your fingers from playing with his, and a subtle smirk forms on his lips at your action.
It’s not like you’re doing anything too flashy or indecent, but you do your best to mask your reactions to his touches, to try and keep the people of the table unaware of the not so innocent things going on under the fancy tablecloth. He only notices your changes because he’s paying attention to you. The way your chest rises just a tad bit more when his hand goes a little over your knee, or how you drink from your cold glass of water when he presses on the skin of your inner thigh, but when he’s about to move his hand off of you, you put yours on his to keep it in place. You also notice things throughout the night, for example, that Mingyu isn’t drinking a lot, restricting to one glass of champagne per serving. You do the same, wanting to remember this night in the future.
Mingyu stands up when the dancefloor opens again, turning down an offer to go to the bar for something stronger than sparkling wine. Instead, he reaches for your hand, silently inviting you to dance with him, to which you agree, with a smile and avoiding his eyes. Following behind him, he doesn’t let go of your hand, even when you’ve reached the spot he wanted. People join you on the dancefloor, drunkenly vibing to the dj set, surrounding you, and blocking you from anyone you know. It’s feels almost private. Whatever song is playing on the speakers, it doesn’t prevent you from following your own rhythm in your own world. Your arms wrap around Mingyu’s neck, and both of his hands hold your waist, mirroring the evening at his place.
“So, tell me, what other embarrassing things did you do when you liked me?”
He throws his head back in embarrassment, sighing with a smile before daring to look at you again. His ears turn a light shade of pink, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat between your bodies.
“I really told you that, did I? I was hoping you wouldn't remember.”
“Nope, I remember it very vividly actually.”
“Let’s leave the embarrassing stories for the future, I wasn’t in my best condition last night.”
“You’re making me too curious now, but how drunk did you get last night?”
“Honestly, I was just nervous about seeing you and about tonight.” He might be confessing another embarrassing thing, but behind his truthful tone, there’s something you can’t quite decipher.
“What’s there to be nervous about tonight?”
Your heels allow you to be in his line of sight, and your chests are too close. If you inhaled deeply, you’d be able to feel him on you. He takes advantage of your new height and forces your attention to go to his lips, smirking shamelessly as he thinks his next words.
“Did I tell you how pretty you look today?"
One hand comes close to your face, removes a strand of hair from blocking your view, and tucks it behind your ear.
“Oh, shut up.”
You can’t even think of a snarky response, your brain melting and showing just how much he affects you. Goosebumps spread all across your arms and back at the feel of his hand caressing your skin.
“I can’t, it’s all I’ve thinking about all day, you, this dress, and you in this dress.”
You instinctively hide your face on the crook of his neck, his cologne invading your senses. It’s hard to think of words when he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you whole.
“I got it because of you. Do you really like it?”
Not that you need any confirmation, since he’s told you twice already, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it from him one more time. Your reveal makes his smirking lips graze your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and his voice drops an octave to answer.
“I love the dress, but I’ll love it more once I get it off you.”
“I hate you.”
You barely manage to say, your chest rising but breathless at the same time. Your body’s automatic reaction is to push him away, and your hands go straight to his chest to try, but of course it’s pointless. His hands catch yours, not letting you leave his personal space. He taunts you by spinning you around, and once you do a full twirl, he grabs you by the waist again and brings your body to his.
“You have no idea how hard it was for me that day when you stepped out, wearing this.” He gets closer to your ear with every word. You hate it and love it. For one, you can hide from his teasing eyes and blush in peace, but on the other hand, you are cheek to cheek with him, his breath fanning lightly on your side, and you can feel he’s still smirking. “You’re lucky there were other people in the room.”
A breath catches in your throat, and you swallow hard. You thank all the gods there are out there for being surrounded by drunk people. Because to anyone on their senses, your reaction to Mingyu's words would be too obvious.
“I really hate you right now.”
It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the heat growing at the pit of your stomach.
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“I think it’s quite the opposite actually.”
How are you supposed to play hard to get when his hands hold you like he wants to keep you forever?
“You think you know everything.”
You catch your voice about to tremble when his free hand starts going down the side of your arm, from your shoulder down until your hand, and interlocks his fingers with yours.
“If you hate me then, I can’t tell you the secret I’ve been keeping all night.”
“Have you been secretly writing an article about how to break someone’s heart in 10 days?”
“I love that movie, but it has been well over 10 days, I couldn’t make the deadline.”
“Rom-com connoisseur, noted.” You jokingly nod, but not forgetting what’s important. “Now tell me.”
“So, you know how they told us there were rooms available for anyone that couldn't drive home?” You nod, too enthusiastically. “I may or may not have booked one for tonight, and if you want to, there’s space for one more, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to…” He keeps talking, something about you watching him do something, but you get lost in the way his lips move as he talks, so pink and fast and hypnotizing.
“Isn’t it rude to just leave?”
The question leaves your mouth more to tease him than anything else. You want to be alone with him so badly, feel his body all over yours, his hands everywhere he can reach, ripping this godforsaken dress off you.
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Before the last food serving rolls out and everyone scatters to go back to their seat, you sneak out of the reception, but the drunk bodies are not making it easy. Mingyu leads the way with you grabbing his hand and walking behind him. You don’t know if you could’ve managed another teasing touching session under the table.
You take a left turn into the hallway just at the same time as one of Olivia's drunk uncles, a stranger to the both of you, who’s half asleep using the wall to steady himself as he walks. The music echoes through the walls, and you can only look at each other, half about to burst out laughing and half needing to take the others clothes off, as you walk as nonchalantly as possible past the man trying his best to open his door.
Giggling like teenagers, you finally reach your room at the end of the hallway, but the second you enter, the atmosphere changes. Standing by the closed door, shoes off, panting, and frozen in place, you only look at each other. Your breaths regulate, and your smiles slowly fade off your expressions as the realization hits. It’s real. He’s here, and you’re here, in a room just for the two of you. His eyes are bound to your parted lips, but you wouldn’t know, as yours are also unable to leave his.
Like magnets, brutally drawn to each other, your lips finally reconnect in a hungry, desperate kiss. After learning how sweet he tastes, how his lips glide over yours so easily, how he wraps his arms around you to keep you close to him, there was only so much time you could spend in abstinence.
No words needed, the want translating in the way your hands push him against you, his hands traveling across your back, touching and groping everywhere he can reach. After the long day testing your patience, neither of you can slow down.
His fang claws at your bottom lip, making you whimper against him. He drinks in any sound you make, his arms bringing your body impossibly closer to his, almost making you one. No one is in control, both of you just touching and grabbing anywhere you can, desperate for more.
Your mouths reluctantly separate as Mingyu starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and biting lightly on your sensitive skin, making you gasp. You can only thread your fingers on his hair, encouraging him to leave any marks he wishes to.
“Is this okay?”
His raspy voice travels to your ears, and you don’t trust yourself to not make unholy noises if you open your mouth to answer. But just as you’re humming, he digs his teeth just above your clavicle, turning your hum into a moan.
He slowly slides the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his fingers teasing your skin on the way down. His hand travels across your chest, only the silky green fabric in between your fiery skin and his teasing fingers. They go over your pointy hard nipples, feeling everything on its way, but not letting it stay anywhere for more than a second.
“Are you going to take it off?”
Your breathlessness makes him chuckle, smug and cocky as ever.
“Rushed?”
“Very. You’re the one that put the thought in my head, now take care of it!” His hands sneak up your back, playing with the zipper of your dress.
“Don’t act so innocent.” His tone goes straight to your core. The fabric around you loosens up as his hand runs down your spine, but he stops before it gets too loose to slip down. “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me all day? You’re not slick.”
He takes a step back to take off his suit jacket, absentmindedly throwing it to the side without breaking eye contact. But you don't let yourself get shy.
“Who said I was trying to hide it?”
Your hands run from his shoulders to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt one by one as his breathing speeds up. The warmth of his body envelops your hands, your fingers barely grazing the skin above his pants, and his muscles tense at your touch before you slip his shirt off.
“Now who’s the one teasing?”
Pulling on the red tie around his neck, he swallows hard as you bring his head closer to yours, so close you unconsciously flutter your eyes closed. His bare chest rises against yours as you undo his tie slowly. You could tilt your chin up and break the tension once more, but something in you wants to keep teasing him.
A step back is all you need to have his lips chase you, and he opens his eyes, droopy and confused, to find you slipping your dress off. His stare turns surprised and hungry as you reveal yourself for him, but his body stays frozen in place.
“I’m supposed to do that.”
It’s your time to chuckle now, taking a step forward again. His hands slot on your waist instinctively, traveling to your stomach, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin against his hands.
“You’ll get to do it next time.” The sentence is almost left unfinished, a breath getting caught in your throat when his hands dare go up your chest. But they’re gone in a heartbeat, as they reach your face and tilt it so you can properly look at him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” No teasing tone on his voice.
“I’m literally naked in front of you.” Your hands go back up to his neck, pushing his head slightly down, reaching a hypnotic closeness. “I want this, I want you Mingyu.”
Confirmation is all he needed to let loose, to let the want take over his body and soul. He connects your lips with force, and wastes no time. With his hands on your ass and his tongue working its way inside your mouth, he stumbles backwards until you both fall on the bed.
With you on top of Mingyu, your hands make their way across his chest, his golden skin glistening due to the sweat. You can feel his hard muscles tense under your touch, making him sigh on your mouth when you find his sensitive spots. His hands move to your hips and push you down on him, making you both moan un unison because of the first friction between your cores.
His growing hard grinds deliciously against you. Even with his pants still between you, you can feel how big he is, and the wet patch on your panties grows by the second. Your lips are still smashed together, a mess of saliva allowing your lips you glide faster and hungrier on his, your tongues becoming one, not wanting to separate ever again.
Your hands find their way down his abdomen, reaching where his pants hang on his hips. The absence of a belt makes it easier for you to unbutton them, and he takes the off expertly, all without ever taking his hands off you.
The second your hand sneaks under his underwear, he groans under you, disconnecting your mouths to take a look at you.
“Is it embarrassing to be already close?” His blood red lips are parted, breathing out his confession, and you almost moan, clenching around nothing because of the sight, or his confession, or maybe the whimper he fights when you wrap your hand around him.
“You’re so big, fuck.” You sigh, and the side of his mouth quirks up, but slowly disappears as you start sliding your hand down, smearing the precum on his length.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.”
His eyes have a mix of concern and lust on them, and your body doesn’t know how to react, your stomach flips, your hands tremble, and your underwear grows wetter.
“I know you won’t.”
You climb down on him, your eyesight reaching where his boxers begin to tent. His gaze follows you, like he can’t believe the reality of what’s happening. You take off the last piece of clothing left on his body, and his dick springs free, standing proud and angry red in front of your eyes. The throb on your throat makes you move forward, wrapping your lips around his leaking tip.
“Wait. Don’t.” You look up at him but he’s facing the ceiling, ears red and eyes closed. “I can’t.”
“I haven’t done anything.” You play innocent, and a smirk appears on your face when he finally looks at you, resting on his elbows.
“Exactly, that’s why I can’t, I need to have a little bit of pride left.”
“What do you suggest we do?” You slowly climb up on him again, his hands moving to your hips like they got a life of their own. One hand on his chest and one hand on his jaw, you kiss him softly, and he melts at your touch.
A soft moan is heard, could be from him, could be from you, but your mind is too clouded to care when he rolls his hips against yours, following the pace of your lazy kiss. A rush of arousal takes over your body when he presses you harder against him, his length sliding perfectly with your core, your wetness making it easier to reach every point that makes you gasp.
“I want,” his lips stop working on yours, but his arms keep you from separating. You feel his every breath, every gasp at the friction, and his lips graze yours when he speaks, “I want to taste you.”
“Fuck.” He might just be able to feel the new rush of wetness dampening your panties further and smearing around his hard below you. His hands push your hips up his body. He told you what he wants, and he’s showing you exactly how he wants it. “Are you sure? I don’t want to crush your skull.”
“I wouldn’t mind that, at least I’d die happy.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that if you want it.”
The chuckle he lets out reverberates from his chest up through your whole body. There’s not much you can do besides complying with his wants, especially with the way your body’s reacting to the sole idea of it and the way he’s moving you to where he wants.
His hands sneak under the strings of your underwear, and as you climb higher and higher, he removes them easily, leaving you bare on top of him.
“You’re so wet, shit.” Your pussy pulsates just above his face. You can’t see his reaction, but you for sure can hear it, “I would’ve done this sooner if I knew this was waiting for me.”
From your point of view, his whole face is covered, by you, on top of him, only his messy hair laying on the mattress can be seen. A view that’s dizzying and hypnotic at the same time, and you can’t think of any answer to give him. His breath on your wet core makes you shiver, but you’re afraid to sit down, afraid you’ll hurt him.
Mingyu senses your hesitation and gives you no more time to doubt. His head rises until his tongue meets your folds, flattening on you, desperate to make you feel good. The sudden stimulation makes your legs tremble, and you would've fell on his face if it wasn’t from his hands still holding your hips.
He starts making out with your cunt, moaning and groaning against it like this is also pleasurable for him. His tongue finds every place that makes you gasp, moan and whimper, and with every lap at your folds, a nasty wet sound accompanies it.
A shaky moan escapes out of you when he envelops your clit with his lips and sucks lightly, making you grab the headboard so you don’t fall on him.
You must’ve fully sit on his mouth in your search for support, because he moans louder against your pussy, and you can feel everything. His lips and tongue working to drink every drop of arousal that leaves you, discovering every sensitive spot you didn’t know about.
The tip of his nose bumps your clit just as his tongue finds its way inside your pulsing hole, and you instinctively move your hand down to pull at his hair. The action encourages him to go faster, harder, and when you grind on his face and he groans like he’s enjoying it, you let go.
Riding him, chasing your high, you’re using his tongue for your own pleasure. Your hand on his hair tightens, and you lose the little control you had of your throat. But the unfiltered sounds you make just push him harder. Every one of your senses is clouded. The wet sounds, the way he moans against you, his tongue already knowing where to go to make you squirm, everything culminates without warning.
You cum on his tongue faster than you have ever before. Your thighs tremble at either side of his head, and you realize you’re crushing him between them. But he doesn't let you get up. His tongue continues to work on you,
He cleans you up, drinking every last drop of arousal smeared on your skin. You spasm over him every time he –not so accidentally– flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, starting to get you overstimulated.
You use the strength you have left to push his head back, and take advantage of his surprise to plop down on his side, your back on the mattress and your pussy finally away of his eager mouth.
“Are you okay?”
From the corner of your eye, while you try to recover, you see Mingyu doing his best to clean the lower side of his face.
“Yeah, fuck, that was a lot.” You manage to say in between breaths. “I need a second.”
“If you’re too tired, we can st- fuck.”
You don’t give time to overthink, quickly getting on top of him again, your swollen dripping cunt right on top of his still hard cock.
“Second's over.” Only a little smirk is the warning he gets before you’re grinding on top of him again. All of your juices mix as you slowly ride back and forth, his length sliding between your wet folds deliciously. “I’m clean, and on the pill, are you?”
“On the pill? Unfortunately not.” How he manages to make you laugh even on your horniest moments will forever remain a mystery. “But I’m clean, I’ve never had sex without a condom before.”
“Me neither. I guess this will be a new experience for the both of us.” The sole thought of it makes his dick twitch under you.
“Are you sure?” His hand cups the side of your face, and his eyes look at you with such care that you could melt in an instant.
“Yes, I don’t want to wait anymore. We’ve waited long enough.” That seems to relax him, his hands beginning to roam freely across your torso.
Sliding forward makes the veins of his cock drag along every sensitive spot and you both moan before his tip finally prods at your entrance. A loud hiss comes out of him as you align yourself with his length and push his tip in.
But before you can go any further, he wraps his arms around your waist and turns you around so your back is against the mattress. You gasp at the sudden change, and when he starts slowly sinking into you, filling every possible space inside you, you lose your breath.
His cock being covered by your fluids makes it easier, and when he finally bottoms out, so deep you feel him everywhere, you hear him trying to muffle a moan. Your gummy walls clamp around him, trying to get used to his size. The twitch of his length feels stronger while inside you, and you know he’s trying to resist the urge to pound into you.
“Move, please, I need you.” Your pathetic whimper triggers another smirk out of him, and as he moves down to give you a soft kiss, his eyes darken.
“Whatever my girl wants.”
The slow drag of his cock as he starts sliding it out almost make you delirious, but before his tip slips out, he snaps his full length right back in, making your body jolt upwards. You can't speak properly, a curse you can’t even hear leaves your mouth before he repeats the action, again and again.
“So deep, Mingyu, fuck.” The brutal pace he sets has him abusing every single sensitive spot inside you, even the ones you didn’t know about, hitting relentlessly where it makes you scream, and you’re seeing stars.
“You don’t say my name often,” his voice is raspy and deep, almost mirroring the way his cock pistons inside of you, “I like how it sounds coming out of you."
Your palms are against the headboard and you’re sure the bed hitting against the wall can be heard from other rooms, but when one of his hands sneak between your bodies and starts circling your clit, you stop caring all along.
The grinding of your hips matches his rhythm, accentuating everything as he drives you closer and closer. With his face just above yours, you can only look him in the eyes and let him watch your face contort in pleasure feeling every vein of his cock dragging inside of you. With any other person, you would be self-conscious, but as he finds that spot inside you that makes you squirm, you forget the world around you and focus on grabbing his strong arms for support.
His teeth find your neck again, biting and kissing on your soft skin, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and he doesn’t stop drilling his hips into you. Somehow, you feel him deeper with every thrust, and the only thing you can do is claw your nails on his arms and back, encouraging him more and more.
“You’re so tight, shit.” His hips stutter when you clench hearing his voice. “Tell me you’re close, please, fuck, I don’t now how long I got."
“Yes! Yes, don’t stop.” You tighten impossibly harder around him when you feel him pinch one of your nipples. He’s literally everywhere, stimulating every spot to tip you over the edge.
Your arms and legs cage his body so close to yours that he has trouble keeping up with his pace, but that doesn't stop him from pounding hard. The sound of skin your skin hitting against his and his groans are like music to your ears.
It's when his thumb teases your clit again that you finally snap.
You tremble around him, moaning uncontrollably as he keeps pounding into you, prolonging your orgasm as he pleases and chasing his own. But he’s far gone too. Your sweet moans in his ear and your walls clenching around him so perfectly are enough to have him spilling inside you.
Sleepiness is about to get you when you feel him sliding out you and plopping by your side. Naturally, one of his arms slots under you as your head rests on the crook of his neck.
There’s silence while you both catch your breaths, his hand softly drawing circles on your back and yours on his chest. As reality sinks in, giddiness fills your entire body, and you can’t contain the smile growing against his golden skin.
“Did you do any embarrassing things back then?” The sudden interrogation makes your cheeks turn red.
“I’m guessing there’s no way out of this, right?” You avoid looking up at him to not make your shyness obvious, and you feel him shake his head as an answer. “Fine… you know… your fangs?”
“My fangs?!” Amusement and surprise mix on his voice.
“Fuck this is so embarrassing.” You’re caged between his arms but you manage to cover your face with your hands.
“You liked my fangs?”
“I still do, but yeah, I would just draw little fangs everywhere, I guess no one ever noticed because they looked more like vamp–"
“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” He luckily interrupts your embarrassing rant with his pending question.
“Already? You want to see me again that badly?” You feel the chuckle on his chest before you hear it, and at that moment, it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard.
“I plan on taking you on dates at least three times a week. You’re never getting rid of me now.” He embraces you in his arms, chests flushed together, and when you tilt your head up, he’s already looking at you, expectant for your answer. “So, what do you say?”
“Yes, I would love to have dinner with you tomorrow.” The smile he gives you might be the most blinding smile you’ve ever seen. “But just so you know, I do not have sex on first dates.”
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thank you so much for reading♥♥ sorry this took so long to finish
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runariya · 11 days ago
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Beyond Probability JJK (m.)
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summary: Matching with an idol? Unlikely. But with a 99% compatibility? Beyond probability. pairing: idol!Jungkook x f!reader genre: idolvers, S2L, fluff, smut rating: 18+, MDNI! warnings: fluff, fluff, a bit of self doubt, fluff, fluff, explicit sexual content, shower sex, unprotected sex, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 4k
a/n: It’s a rly cute and short oneshot, light and mainly fluff, nothing too deep, no big words etc this time. Just had to get it out of my system since the idea’s been on my mind for months now (unedited bc I fell ill halfway through writing it 🤒)
a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕
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Your biological clock’s ticking—has been for some years now—and even though you’re only now nearing 30, you’re painfully aware that the life you pictured as a kid might never come true.
It’s not like you’re unstable in who you are or what you’re doing. You’re fairly successful at your job, you’ve got your own place, and you’re more social than most people these days. Still, you’re only what most would call average-looking, and even though you’ve got a good career, you’re too soft to keep it up forever. You picture yourself more as a loving wife and mother than a corporate boss bitch climbing the ladder of success.
That’s also why your dating life has been rocky all along. Men see what you put out there, but they don’t like who you really are or what you want from life, which has left you single for most of it.
So, when a new project starts—after the K-pop industry finally acknowledges that idols need partnerships and a life of their own, and fans finally understand that these people are human too, that they deserve to experience love and happiness like everyone else—you decide to take your chances too.
Funnily enough, all the labels have teamed up, hiring not only the best scientists and psychologists from Korea but from around the world to create a program that can find ideal matches for their idols. Sure, science shouldn’t determine who you fall in love with, but… what if it could?
After being pre-selected—just to confirm you’re not some crazed fan—you’ve spent over two weeks going through tests. Recorded interviews, personality assessments, even physical evaluations… now you’re staring at your company’s computer screen, listening to Dr. Song explain the results through the phone. 
“Ninety-nine percent?”
“Yes. The chances of such a high compatibility score are next to impossible. We see it as a perfect match and would like to introduce you to your match.”
“Sure, of course.” Even though your voice is steady, you can feel your nerves flaring up like never before.
“Is tomorrow at 8 p.m. alright for you?”
“Yes, that works for me.”
“Perfect, we’ll see you then.”
Well, joke’s on you, you didn’t expect this outcome. 
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Meeting an idol feels surreal, and the closer you get to 8 p.m. the next day, the more you can feel the anxiety and doubts inside you rising. Every last detail in Dr. Song’s calm, clinical rundown replays in your mind, the ninety-nine percent match, the endless rounds of testing, the surreal realisation that, somehow, all those numbers and algorithms miraculously spat out a name next to yours. 
You want to trust that there’s a reason for this, that somehow science isn’t just working with chance, but the tension of actually meeting someone this special is so overwhelming you barely notice yourself entering the lab building until you’re standing outside Dr. Song’s office.
“Right on time,” she chirps, giving you an approving nod. She seems to sense your nerves, and as she leads you down a hallway you’ve never been before, she gives you a reassuring smile. “I know this is all a lot. But he’s likely feeling the same way. The tests told us that he’s, well, quite like you.”
Her words would make you laugh in any other situation, though disbelief and a strange kind of comfort floods through you still. Like you. An idol, standing here in a lab somewhere to meet some random stranger, feeling just as out of place as you. You’re not sure of that but still like to think it must be true. 
You don’t have time to process it fully before you’re led into a quiet room with yellowish walls so plain they almost blur in the corners of your vision, a low, comfortable couch and a couple of chairs standing there and none of the lab equipment that surrounded you in the testing rooms all those weeks ago. 
And then you spot him, sitting on the couch, alone. He stands the second you walk in, hands half in his pockets, a slight, almost unsure smile grazing his lips as he glances down at you. He’s got that casual look about him, the same dark eyes you’ve seen a hundred times on a screen that somehow feel warmer and more human here. 
He looks not quite better than he does on screen, but not worse either. Somehow, he’s realer, if that’s a word—close enough that you can see the little flecks of colour in his irises, the slight tension in his posture, the faintest trace of nerves hiding under his composure.
“Hi.” Jungkook’s voice is lower, softer than you expect from an idol. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook.”
“Nice to meet you too. I’m ___.” There’s a pause, and you can tell he’s just as unsure what to do with the space between you two as you are. The click of the door makes you turn around briefly, only to realise Dr. Song has left you both alone. “This is, um, weird, right?”
He nods, a quick, breathy laugh breaking through. “Very. I mean, this isn’t exactly a ‘normal’ kind of meeting, right?”
His words are awkward but disarming, and suddenly, you’re aware of all the tiny, meticulous details of him that somehow make him feel more relatable than his polished, on-screen persona. The way his hand keeps moving to rub against his thigh or abs, his tongue playing with his lips and piercing ever so slightly—everything about him is familiar but also somehow close enough to feel completely new.
“I don’t think I was ready for this,” you admit. You aren’t really talking to him but more like letting your own thoughts slip out in the safest way possible, like saying it makes it feel less absurd.
“Honestly, same.” He laughs, and you think there’s a light flutter in your chest now. “I kept thinking about this whole ninety-nine percent thing. Like… how does that even work? Isn’t it supposed to feel, I don’t know, obvious? Like you know the moment you see someone?”
You nod, understanding exactly what he means, and somehow you move on autopilot, walking towards him and sitting down on that couch with him beside you. It feels like you should both somehow know, like there’s a sign or an instant connection, something that would make all of this feel simple, easy. But it’s just the two of you in a quiet room, barely knowing each other, held together by nothing but a number on a report.
“Yeah, that’s so wild. I didn’t think I’d have a match, this close to a hundred even less. Might be a glitch if our score is this high.”
Jungkook nods with sparkling eyes, seemingly relieved by your honesty and humour. “Yeah, I get that. I kept thinking about it too. Wondering if maybe the tests were wrong, or maybe I was just…thinking too much.” He lets out a sigh, his gaze meeting yours for a long, meaningful second. “But I think maybe this is about finding out, right? Not having it all make sense right away.”
“Hm, makes sense.” You giggle, because what else can you do in the presence of him.
The two of you sit there in a momentary silence, as if testing each other, feeling out the small boundaries that keep you both distant.
“So, what did the report tell you about me?” You ask the question half-jokingly, trying to break the quiet, but also curious. You want to know what he knows, how much of this supposed ninety-nine percent compatibility is actually something that either of you feel. 
He lets out a silent breath, looking down as if slightly embarrassed. “Honestly, not as much as you’d think. They told me you were kind of… soft-spoken but resilient? And that you have a job that’s, uh, stable and…” He trails off, the tips of his ears slightly pink, like he’s embarrassed to keep going.
“And?” You can’t help but push further—not maliciously, just way too curious and playful for your own good. Jungkook’s expression shifts from embarrassed to surprised, and then to a look that’s just as playful.
“And that we’re, apparently, very much sexually compatible.”
Really, you should be the one feeling embarrassed or shy now, but you can’t help the laugh that slips out. You know exactly what he’s hinting at—your report clearly showed the same.
“Well, it might be not wrong. And they told me…” You pause, realising that you barely remember the details in the face of the reality in front of you but alas. “They said you’d be a good match because, I think, there was something about humour?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Humour? Never heard of it.” And it makes you laugh all over again. “I feel like they just told us things we’d want to hear, to make it seem easier and normal.”
His words hit close to home, but they’re strangely comforting in the way he says them. You reckon, he’s just as bewildered by this as you are, maybe even more so. And somehow, in the middle of all the awkwardness, you find yourself genuinely smiling at him, naturally gravitating towards him, finding that there’s a softness and reassurance in his gaze, a gentleness that cuts through your nerves like a knife through melted butter in the sun. 
You start talking more freely after that, exchanging stories that are too mundane to make sense in any real context but feel right here. You tell him about your last trip to the beach, how you got sunburned and spent the whole evening sitting on your balcony, nursing it with iced water and aloe, wishing for a helping hand that you didn’t have. He laughs, nodding along as if he can picture it exactly and tells you about how he tried to make pasta he ate in Italy for the first time a few months back and ended up burning the whole batch, because no one was by his side, so badly his kitchen smelled like smoke for days.
The more you talk, the more you notice the little things about him that aren’t so polished, aren’t so perfect, and make him feel more human and real than anyone you ever met. He has a way of listening, eyes intent on yours, like he’s trying to pick apart every word to understand it better. When he laughs, it’s with his whole face, even body, not the careful, composed look of an idol but a natural, carefree laugh that makes you feel like maybe he’s as relieved as you are to be here, to have someone he doesn’t have to impress. 
At some point, you both lapse into a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts but somehow still connected. The tension from earlier has faded away, replaced by a soothing aura you know you don’t want to miss for a day in your life.
Eventually, Jungkook glances over at you, his eyes sucking you in without much resistance. “I kept thinking this would feel forced, you know? Like we’d be sitting here, struggling to find anything in common.” He leans back, drapes his arm around the back of where you’re sitting, glancing up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. “But… it doesn’t feel that way. You feel… I don’t know, right?”
The slight flutter in your chest has now swelled into a full-blown hurricane, and you’re not sure if it’s that ninety-nine percent compatibility causing it. But you don’t let yourself think too much—not when you’ve both been inching closer with each word, not when you take a chance and lean in, resting your head against his side. Especially not when his arm settles directly over your shoulder, pulling you a little closer, his other hand finding yours, fingers intertwining just to see how it feels.
“Yeah, it feels right. I really like this.”
As you absently play with his fingers, breathing in his scent for the first time and deciding it’s like heaven, you let yourself trust science. Because this feels like exactly where you’re meant to be.
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While the first meeting with Jungkook went better than you’d ever hoped, you’re painfully aware of your overthinking nature. Overthinking in a way that makes it painfully clear there are countless women out there who, on the surface, would seem a better visual match for him than you.
Overthinking to the point where you wonder why Jungkook would even need matchmaking when he could so easily choose a partner on his own. It’s also why staying focused at work isn’t exactly easy today, knowing that soon his label will be sending a car to pick you up for your next meeting with him.
You understand the precautions they’ve taken and completely agree it’s better to meet in a private, safe space rather than making headlines this early on. That’s why, as the tinted car arrives, you feel a bit more at ease than you have all day.
Soon enough, you’re driving down the path to the label’s underground garage, and while you fix your makeup real quick, the car comes to a stop. The driver nods and guides you towards the lift, where the lights are dim and everything has this quiet, professional atmosphere you’ve only seen on screen.
You try to take it all in, letting your thoughts settle just a bit more as you follow through to the hallways upstairs, past doors labelled with room numbers and studios, and then finally, you’re outside the door to Jungkook’s studio, right where you’re supposed to meet.
Your heart beats a little faster as you hear Jungkook’s familiar voice call out, “Come in,” and when you open the door, you find him leaning casually against the chair before his equipment with an easy smile that somehow manages to be both happy and slightly flirty. 
Again, Jungkook’s dressed just like uniquely him, with a few silver rings glinting on his fingers. And while you didn’t think he’d even get up to greet you, he steps forward and embraces you in hug so tight, it leaves you drowning in him. 
“Hey,” he greets with that disarming grin, eyes boring into you, taking in your formal work attire, as he gestures to the coffee set up besides his laptop. “Hope you don’t mind the casual vibe.”
You laugh a little, settling onto the free chair beside him, feeling a bit strange but somehow not. “I think it’s perfect. And to be honest, I don’t think I’d cope well with the whole five-star dining treatment and whatnot.”
He laughs, nodding in agreement, taking your purse from your hands and draping it casually over the back of his chair. The fact that he’s still so attentive, even though he’s clearly in his element here but completely relaxed, is rather fascinating and pulls you in even more.
Like the day before, talking with him comes easy, and while there’s nothing groundbreaking in your conversations, every word feels meaningful in the bigger picture.
Eventually, you feel yourself relaxing like you were at home by your own, getting comfortable enough to let out the thoughts that have been swimming in your head since last night. “I’ve thought a lot about how all of this could play out,” you admit, taking a sip of your coffee, trying to find the right words, though knowing there won’t be any wrong words when talking with Jungkook. “And honestly, I’m not really interested in taking things public if they did work out. I know that’s probably strange to say, but I’m not cut out for the spotlight.”
He tilts his head, watching you thoughtfully. “No, it’s not strange at all. I get it.”
A small smile tugs at your lips as you go on, “I just want something real. A partner who’s loyal, someone who’s there because we get each other, not because we’re some public ‘it’ couple, parading around every chance we get. Does that sound crazy?”
He shakes his head, while he swings from one side to the other.  “Not at all. That actually sounds perfect to me.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that makes you feel, for the first time, like there’s some truth to your report. “The whole ‘idol’ thing is just a job. It’s not who I am, not at the core. And having someone who sees it that way, is what I want too.”
It elates you to know that you could have something like this, with him,  someone you could genuinely share your life with.
Then, in a thoughtful voice, he asks, “What do you want for the future? I mean, outside all of this.” 
You take a breath, feeling a little nervous but wanting to be honest. It’s not like it’s news to him, seeing that this information’s written in the report he was handed. “I want something traditional. A home, a family, maybe staying home with kids, having that steady, grounded life. It sounds simple, I know, but it’s what I’ve always pictured.” You look up at him, expecting maybe a hint of judgement, but instead, you find him nodding, his eyes lighting up like a candle in the night.
“I don’t think that sounds simple at all, but meaningful.”
A shy smile forms on your lips as you add, “Sometimes I feel like people don’t see that side of things anymore, you know? Like everyone’s so focused on careers and success and everything else… and I get that, I do, but I’ve always just wanted something steady. Something I can hold on to.”
His hand finds yours, his fingers like second nature intertwine with yours, and the gesture is so simple yet so heartwarming that you feel like squealing out of happiness. “That’s exactly what I want too.” It’s nothing new to you too, but him saying that, seeing the honesty in his eyes, is better than any data shown to you. “I want that sense of home.”
You feel yourself falling a little harder, a little faster, and maybe that scares you a bit. You’ve seen the kind of attention he gets, the kind of girls that throw themselves at him, and it’s hard not to let those doubts creep in. Especially now. “I know this probably sounds insecure,” you start awkwardly, glancing away, “I think, I don’t know, maybe I’m not the kind of person someone like you would go for. I mean, you could have anyone, and not just because you’re an idol.”
He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. And while his mouth opens to say something, the pull against your hand surprises you as much as him settling you in his lab. “Hey, don’t think like that. I’m here because I want to be. And trust me, I’m not looking for ‘anyone’. I’m looking for someone who gets me. And that someone is you, no?”
The look in his eyes is so genuine, so unguarded, that it’s hard to keep your heart from doing all sorts of stunts. He’s not the polished idol right now; he’s just Jungkook, being flirty, being compassionate, being so him, sitting in a cosy studio with his tattoos, his piercings, his moles, his beautiful smile, his whole presence more comfortable and inviting than you could have imagined.
And as he sits there, looking at you like you’re the only person in the world, you realise that you definitely don’t have to doubt this. Maybe it’s okay to let yourself believe that he’s here because he wants to be, that he’s falling for you irrevocably just as you’re falling for him. 
“Sooo… that means?” You know you need to be brave now, because if this isn’t a dream, you’d never forgive yourself for not taking the leap.
“That means, if you want to, I’d love to have you as my girlfriend.”
“Isn’t it a bit rushed?” You don’t actually think so, but you still need to be sure.
“I’m all in if you are. I don’t want to waste any more time, and even though it’s just a report, I can feel there’s real truth behind it.”
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Fast forward seven months, and you find yourself pressed against the shower wall like you do every night. But this time, it’s different—just hours ago, you made your first public appearance on a music show with Jungkook, just because you both felt ready, where he was not only nominated for Best Singer of the Year but won as well.
“Koo, right there, right there.”
It still amazes you how his cock seems to find your g-spot as soon as he enters you, though you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Yeah? Right there, hm? Or is it…” he trails off, shifting his hips ever so slightly, making you realise he’s actually hit the centre point of your g-spot now, his hard, unrelenting thrusts pushing you over the edge without warning.
“Oh my goooddd,” your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open against the cool shower wall, as your cunt keeps gripping him even though it’s already creaming around his cock.
“Good girl, keep going, love. Show me how many you can take tonight.”
There’s nothing you can do, not that you’d want to do anything other than let him rearrange your insides. Especially not when his tattooed hand finds its way from the back of your hair to your jaw, tilting your head to the side, giving you the perfect view of his upper body—rivulets of water cascading down his chiselled form, lips parted, eyebrows furrowed. 
He’s the epitome of perfection. Not just a ninety-nine percent but a hundred. 
His eyes, though hooded, bore into your soul as his hips pick up the pace. It’s this connection you share with him make being with him feel so special.
“Koo…”
“I know, love, just a bit more. Can you be a good girl?”
“Yes,” you moan, because hell, you can. “Yes, for you…ah, winning the trophy.”
Even though you shouldn’t feel his cock twitch with the pace he’s set, you do, realising instantly what he needs tonight.
“Best singer, Koo…fuck…best boyfriend, only fucking me when, hmm, the whole world wants a piece of you.”
“Only you. Always you, ___, love.” You think you catch him licking a drop of saliva from his lips as he stares down at where your bodies connect, sending another wave of arousal from your stretched-out hole.
“You’re so big.”
“Just for you, fuck, squeeze a bit more.”
It’s not that you did it on purpose, but when his hand shoots down to your clit, circling it just right, your body responds as though it’s never felt this good, soaking him even more and gripping him tight as a vice.
“Like that, love, like that.” Jungkook grunts and pants, holding you harder, tighter as his cock seems to swell even more, pumping frantically in sync with your impending second orgasm.
When Jungkook can’t hold back any longer, it’s all you need to let go too, the rush flowing through your veins just as fiercely as the love you feel for this man.
After some time, Jungkook pulls out, helping you straighten up and lean against his chest under the stream. His veiny hands trail down your body, washing away his release dripping out of you, as he plants kisses along the side of your face.
When he’s had enough, he, like always, turns you, brushing the wet strands of hair from your face. And as you do the same to him, captivated by how content and in love he looks, you can’t help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world when, for the first time, Jungkook declares his feelings.
“I love you, till the day I die, ___.”
“I love you too, and beyond.”
Because this, because having Jungkook calling you his, is beyond probability.
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a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕
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obessedwithfictionalmen · 4 months ago
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M.I.T can suck it
Hawk X Female! Reader
!Spoilers for Cobra Kai season 6!
Summary: Hawk needs comfort after training in the forest.
Warning: Swearing/ use of Y/n/ fluff/ self doubt/ suggestive dialogue/ Hawk overthinking a little/
Word count: 530
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The door opens to a pouting Hawk, he didn’t make the team, had a literal fight with his best friend and got a little hurt in the process. He just wanted to come home and become one with the couch. But instead, he found his girlfriend reading on the couch. ‘’Baby, what are you doing here?’’ he asked with a smile on his face. She closed her book and got up. ‘’I wanted to surprise you, how was training?’’ she asked, kissing him. Hawk placed his hand on her hip as they sat on the couch. Hawk took a deep breath before taking his girlfriend’s hands. ‘’It was a disaster. It was a capture the flag between me, Kenny, Devon and Demetri.’’ Hawk went on to talk about how him and Demetri fought because he told his best friend that he wanted to look for other colleges. That they literally fought for the flag, and he lost.
Y/n got closer to her boyfriend and gave him a hug, he looked like he needed it. ‘’Listen, I love you and I’m proud of you, even though you’re not going to Barcelona, you’re still my champion. For Demetri, I think you have to give him time. You and him have been talking about going to M.I.T since you were young. He feels betrayed, and even you can get that. But, like I said, you’re his best friend, and he cares about you too much to let this between you.’’ She spoke. Hawk had tears in his eyes, he needed to hear that. ‘’Thank you, I love you too. But what if I apply to M.I.T and don’t get in, he’ll be even more pissed and I- ‘’ Y/n’s lips stopped him before his anxiety took over.
‘’If you don’t get in M.I.T with the grades you have, then M.I.T can suck it. But for now, you just have to trust the process. You want to go to another college so you can party your ass off, then so be it. Demetri will come around; you guys are the Binary Brothers! He needs you.’’ she asked him with a compassionate smile. What did he do to deserve her was still a question in his mind. She was perfect for him, she was able to calm his anxiety and loved him for Eli, not Hawk, but she still loved Hawk since ‘it was a part of him’. ‘’I love you so much, you know that?’’ he said, kissing her passionately. They cuddled for a while before they both got hungry.
‘’If you want, you can go in the shower while I cook dinner.’’ She offered. Hawk had a grin on his face at the mention of the shower. ‘’Do you wanna come with me in the shower, then we’ll cook dinner together’’ he proposed, still with the grin on his face. Y/n tilted her head with a smirk on her face. ‘’Sure, good idea. But keep your hands to yourself, I’m hungry and I don’t wanna eat at 10 pm because you’re horny’’ she chuckles. ‘’I can’t make any promises, princess’’ he teased. She playfully rolled her eyes before they both walked into the bathroom.
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mellowwillowy · 9 months ago
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TWST x Self-aware Yan Cannibal AU Ft: Unhinged GN Reader
𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥
Unbirthday party has always been a merry occasion for 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥. Not only does he get to eat the strawberry tarts, but he also gets to have Trey's meat pie specialty.
Pigs who dared to enrage the tyrant by upsetting you, the law, are sent to the kitchen for the butcher and baker to process into something edible.
The card soldiers cheer in joy and anxiety, pleased to be able to taste the main course yet sweating over the idea of screwing up and ending up on the silver platter.
Yet part of them does not really mind if it's meant that they will be devoured by you, the law, their grace. Ace and Deuce have always irked Riddle but the sight of you smiling along with their pranks and mischiefs save them from the trouble they are about to face.
Cater will always upload it on magicam, boasting the sight of you enjoying your stay in 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥 as you nibble on the tart. Baked and minced to your favorite, as usual. Trey and Cater sure know their way around this, memorizing how you like it by heart.
--
"Looks like you two are having a hard time cleaning the guillotine huh?" You stopped in front of the guillotine, watching the other students along with the ADeuce duo wiping the blade that had severed yet another pig for you to feast on soon.
"Uh yeah, troublesome as always, I hate having this bloody mess all over my hands." Deuce furrowed his eyebrows, waving his hands for you to see. Ace immediately elbowed Deuce, "Dude, you are splattering the blood all over me!"
You chuckled at the duo before turning back your focus on Riddle and his chaperones, "I assure you, those blood does taste good too if you know your way around it."
Trey and Cater raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other, seemingly knowing what they would present for you at the next Unbirthday party.
"Is that so? Then I'll make sure to have your Grace have a taste of it at our next tea party."
𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰
It's only natural to see the beasts ripping the guts out of the prey with their bare fangs. 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 surely offers an entirely different vibe when it comes to banquets.
Until Leona signals them, the beasts are nothing but starving predators, ready to shred the prey into minced meat. But Leona is nothing but a calm and obedient beast when it comes to you, eagerly waiting for you to give him the accord.
One tilt of your head and a nod is all it takes for Leona to snap his fingers, the chosen beasts leaping toward the prey eagerly as their claws and fangs tore them apart.
Jack was the fiercest among the others, even more than his seniors. For someone who held an upright moral integrity, he had it revolved around you and all sense of justice had been laid onto the tip of your tongue.
Ruggie on the other hand only watched in amusement next to Leona, waiting for the next batch of captured prey to be feasted by him. He would not cut line and steal a bite of what's not given to him from you, oh nooo, he was a patient hyena.
Leona cocked his head to you, eyes focused on you while waiting for you to lock your eyes with his, "Should I grab one for you to eat too, your Grace?"
𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞
Mostro Lounge has always offered the best dining experience. It is not to be doubted again that 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 is most definitely going to serve you the finest meal, personally handled and cooked by the Tweels.
And of course, those who fail to fulfill the terms of Azul's contract have to feel how the merfolks gut them, spilling their whole innards all over as they choose which part is considered the most delectable for you.
From the sophisticated look of the beverage, tinted dark red yet a hue of purple could be seen, giving it a pleasingly aesthetic look for you to fawn over before you drink it down.
On the silver platter was a heart, decorated with things you had no idea about but you had seen back in your world. Fancy diners always do that, you thought to yourself.
"Only the best part for your Grace." Jade bowed down as he adjusted the plate and utensils. Floyd was grinning from ear to ear as he dusted the sugar cube into your drink, "And something refreshingly sweet for ya' highness!"
You gave them a curt nod before slicing it, Floyd kneeling down next to you while his face rested on your chair's armrest, eyes glimmering in excitement as he waited for your feedback. Jade might not show it in his face but even you could notice how his feet tapped against the carpeted tile, something you'd never see from someone who could stand still for hours without moving like an inanimate object.
You gave them an approving nod and smile as you took a sip from the drink Floyd personally went over length to make for you, "Satisfactory as usual."
A pair of hands clasped on your shoulders from behind, Azul cooed right into your ear "But your Grace, surely it can go beyond that no? We'll make sure of that the next time you choose to feast here."
𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐚
Banquet has always been something that is always happening due to Kalim's nature and Jamil has never really found any joy from it.
But all that changes if the banquet is thrown for you. Oh, how the viper ensures himself to go beyond length in preparing the dishes. With Kalim's endless riches, he can use all sorts of ingredients one would never be able to obtain without spending a fortune for their rarity. Only the freshest and best ingredients are allowed to be used for your meal and so are the living meat of the students.
Everything must be set to a T. Kalim may not be a tyrant but when it comes to you? He's unconsciously pointing his fingers and brows scrunched at anything that is not abided by perfection. The lamps are not hung at the right angle, the pillows have not been changed into new pillows and the animals must be paraded in order and not roam like wild beasts. Anyone who just ever makes the slightest mistake will be sent straight to the kitchen as an ingredient. Had it not been for Jamil's suggestion to send them all bruiseless, they would have been beaten until they were nothing but pulp.
You were taking in the sight of the parade, everything was as amusing as you had always remembered. But the true highlight lay in Jamil's cooking, if you have to pinpoint the best cook in this twisted wonderland then it had to be Jamil. Unlike the finery of Mostro Longue, Jamil's cooking had a different feel to it. It was not as aesthetic yet it did not change the fact that it still looked pleasantly delicious. If Mostro Lounge accounted for the positioning of the food in a numerical and angle way, Jamil offered everything in a neat bulk. Curry, prata, shawarma, and all. Its display screamed for people to grab one yet no one dared to unless you ordered them to do so.
You cocked your head toward Kalim who was sitting right next to you, eyes glimmering in adoration as he drunk in your expression. Oh, would you finally like to have a bite? He held one of the shawarma out toward you with an empty plate in his other hand.
Jamil had ensured that there were 2 different platters, one for you which was made from the best ingredients and seasonings, while the other was less if compared to yours but still delicious nonetheless. One was made from meat and blood that had been considered the best while the other was made from those that failed to pass through the requirements.
You took a bite from his hand, savoring the taste of Jamil's hard work while enjoying the show of Kalim's tyranny. Truly, you love being able to taint your beloved sunshine.
"Say say, are you enjoying it all, your Grace? Not even a beat of music missed and all the food that sprawled across the room is ensured to be of the best quality." Kalim brought a goblet onto you and you held it in your hand. He gave you another grin that was just as blinding as the sun, his finger beckoned Jamil to pour you the carmine drink, squeezed from their cries of agony and pain before they were minced.
"But of course, your Grace has no need to hesitate to point something out if it's not to your liking," Jamil chimed in as he watched you swirl your goblet. The two of them stared right into your eyes, eyes enchanted by you despite one being an enchanter, "Because we seek only perfection for your Grace's taste."
𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞
𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 prides themselves in their pitch-perfect diet. So what if their Grace has a different taste in the feast? All they have to do is readjust and tailor the whole dorm's diet to yours.
The fairest one of all, wearing a tiara that shines even brighter than any tiaras Vil has ever seen, truly living up to the radiance you emit just from sitting on the very throne with him standing right next to you.
It appeared that preparing a banquet was a huge feat for 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 as they were divided into 2 teams. Team One prepared the whole occasion while Team Two flocked toward you, amusing you with a theatric show as you watched them from your throne.
It appeared that Rook's fascination with the world of theatrics and you worked really well as he 'acted' out the role of a lover professing his love toward the protagonist really well. Strings of bizarre praises and wishes rolled from the tip of his tongue smoothly as though it was by nature for him to act so already.
Epel on the other hand was all energized to drag the qualified livestock into the kitchen after Vil had inspected them all personally. The livestock was to be of a healthy diet, bruiseless and ailment-free before it was allowed to be cooked and feasted by the Grace.
The moment Rook was notified that the whole banquet was ready, a trumpet was blown and you were led to the dining hall which had been decorated to match your attire. Were you wearing something cute, pure, sexy, cool, or pop? Either way, 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 never missed a beat in losing its elegance no matter what the theme was.
"Allow me," Rook pulled the chair for you to sit on before he readjusted the platter asymmetrically. Right next to your seat on the right was Vil sitting while the rest of the body stood, not daring to sit unless you allowed them to.
Seeing Epel all giddy observing you, you beckoned him to come to you and he whispered into your ear, "I seasoned it!"
You cocked a questioning eyebrow toward Vil and he could only sigh with a chuckle, "Oh what will I do with your Grace's taste bud?"
Rook poured a carmine red fluid into your glass, its smell told you that it was not made just from a fine wine but rather, a fine blood.
"A fine cocktail of white wine, dyed with a carmine golden drop, hand-picked and squeezed personally by me. Truly, your favorite, your Grace."
𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞
Honestly, what do you even expect from all these anti-socials? They are nothing but a bunch of hikikomori yet the Shroud Brothers just know how to surprise you!
Unlike the impractical methods that the others use to earn just a golden drop of blood from the livestock, the dorm has created countless practical devices that help them to create something quickly.
Compressors that grind down the gutless livestock into a fine drink. Shredders that allow them to save time from having to shred from chunk by chunk. And a practical inspection device that helps Idia sort out the best for you to feast on.
Ortho had to be the most eager one of all, singing non-stop as he ensured all were to be finished quickly when you informed him that you would be choosing 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 for your next banquet.
They specialized in efficiency and speed but that did not mean they lacked the skill of cooking a delicious dish. While it may be pale when compared to other dorms, 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 is a great option for when you are craving for something and want it to be on your plate in a short moment. They might not score 12/10 but they were able to at the very least score 8/10. Surprised much? Ortho had been practicing how to cook and all from the data Idia inputted into him.
"Uurgh.. uhh... y-your Grace... so what is the verdict? A level up? Or an increase in the ranking board? O-Ortho is really expecting your answer..."
You raised your eyebrows at his stuttering, "Getting better," you stopped for a moment to chew again, "and delicious."
Ortho immediately leaped toward you from Idia's back, causing him to squeak, his metal arms wrapped around your neck, "I'm glad! Please keep on coming here and I'll make sure to be the best cook you'll ever have!"
Idia brought a napkin over to your face, "Yes... should your Grace ever need for a quick meal, please come by... Me and Ortho... and Ortho... will always be ready at your disposal."
But who were you but the all-knowing God, you knew there was a slight taint of blot in your meal, Ortho, you assumed.
𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚
Lilia has to stay away from the kitchen. But don't worry, the bat is entrusted with hunting down livestock for the youngsters to process into something edible.
Malleus on the other hand is ready to strike anyone down with lightning should they make the slightest mistake in the banquet preparation.
Sebek is in charge of inspecting the livestock while Silver is in charge of the most gruesome part of the job (which was appointed by you for fun.) which is gutting. Surely tainting someone so pure like him has to be your favorite feast.
The candles on the table were all lit in emerald hue, fireflies surrounded you as Lilia levitated around you, joyously guiding you toward the dining table.
There you could see Malleus sitting on the second host seat, his hand prompts you to take a seat across from him. Lilia pulled the chair for you to sit before Silver walked out of nowhere, holding a plate of dishes for you to feast on.
Sebek on the other hand had been arranged to stand right next to Malleus, part of him was happy yet part of him envied Silver. Nonetheless, no barks had ever slipped past through his sealed lip.
"Kukuku, the boys went through great details and length in preparing this whole banquet, well, me included. It was fun hunting down these livestock for you," His index finger felt your platter, "it makes me feel like I must pick the ripest for you... feeding you... aa~"
Soon, he brought a forkful of meat sliced by SIlver earlier while you were distracted by Lilia. Malleus smiled at your dazed-out face and the way realization washed over you.
"May your Grace enjoy the blessing that you have graced us tonight." Malleus raised his goblet, urging you to do just the same.
"Cheers!" Lilia wiped your mouth with the napkin, Silver's hand holding out your filled goblet.
𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲 ???
"My words! Did you have fun, hm?" Crowley immediately lunged toward you the moment you entered his office. He gave you the cutest pout you could ever see from him, his cheek rubbed against yours repeatedly.
"Are you jealous, Dire?"
"Of course not! How can someone as magnanimous as I, be jealous of my own fledglings?" And as though to prove to you his seriousness, he even posed ridiculously with his staff.
You cackled at him before giving him a kiss on his cheek, "I'm home, Dire."
Crowley stopped acting up and turned serene, giving you a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes.
"Welcome home, Master. Dinner's ready as usual."
Oh old times... ???
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stoneshipper · 17 days ago
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for self shippers who struggle with anxiety...
your f/o is always going to reassure you of their bond with you when you need it. they don't get annoyed if you need extra reassurance or repeatedly ask them about it - they do their best to understand your anxiety and want to make you feel better in any way they can. they know how and when not to take it personally - knowing that you're not exactly asking out of doubt toward them because of something they've done, but simply because that's how your brain works sometimes. they'll always be happy to take your hand in theirs and remind you just how much you'll always mean to them ᯓ★
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dividers made for me by kynibyou! ✦ prosh¡p dni.
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peachesofteal · 2 months ago
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Simple Math / Part Seventeen
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader - AO3 - 4K words Tags: 18+ mdni. nurse!reader. PTSD, references and descriptions of domestic violence , grooming, manipulation, pregnancy. Simon's back story. Trauma. Bun opens up a bit more. Domesticity, feelings of anxiety, self doubt. Simon is a nervous dad. Emotional confessions.
“It’s Beth.” Simon wipes the countertop, chasing little dirty fingerprints with a wet cloth, before fixing a hesitant set of eyes on yours.
“That’s pretty… I like it.” There’s something odd about his expression, something haunted almost, a deep, dark well filled to the brim with rancid, stagnant water. You sense it immediately. “What’s wrong?”
He motions to the chair and slides your mug into your waiting hands. “Sit.”
“Simon?”
“It was my sister in law’s name. My brother’s wife.” Was. Your throat goes dry, muscles tensing.
“Was?” He pulls your fingers into his, cradled in the palm of his hand, thumb rubbing circles into your skin, over and over on a loop. A mechanism of comfort, connection. A thread stitch into the fabric between your heart and his.
“They died, sweetheart. My family… I lost them.” Grief, a shared experience you know now, froths in the pit of your heart. You tremble, he holds you steady, though it should be the other way around.
“What… what happened?” He sighs, dragging your palm to his lips.
“Let’s sit down on the couch.”
He holds you as he talks, diaphragm rumbling against your ear. You’re laid on his chest, unable to see his face, watch his expressions, but for this, you don’t feel the urge to dissect each one.
You’re content against him. Listening. Mourning.
There’s a swath of silence afterwards, and then he clears his throat. “So, I was dead. Dead until I met Johnny, I think. And then everything changed.” Johnny’s words from weeks and weeks ago make more sense, Simon’s actions and reactions rapidly gaining clarity. “When we found you, I saw it, the look in your eyes. It was the same one that used to haunt my mother’s.”
“You saved her.” He burrows his face in your neck and shakes his head.
“I did what I could to piece them back together. Helped get Tommy clean and on his feet, got rid of the old man for good, but the damage… the way she suffered, it was irreversible. The best I could do was be there as much as often as possible.” You comb through his hair, short strands of silk like Penny’s, and hold him close. “I promised myself, when I met Johnny, when we fell in love, I’d do better by my own family. For him, and then by Penny. And now you. Promised I wouldn’t become him.” Your heart clenches, squeezing in on itself. “Violence may have been a part of my job, but it wasn’t a part of me.” His fingers dance along your spine until they reach your chin, tilting you back to meet his gaze. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” You whisper, leaning into his touch. He doesn’t need to ask for your trust, he already has it.
“Johnny thinks I’ve got a bit of a savior complex now, but I want you to know… that’s not what this is, bunny.”
“I know,” you clear your throat, fighting through the thick of emotion building there, accumulating in heaps, “I know that.”  
“But we do need to talk about him, you know that?” Darkness creeps along the wispy, dream-like cocoon the two of you built on the couch, and you push it away, try to banish it, basking in the comfort of his arms instead.
“I can’t, I… right now it feels like I’m in a dream where nothing hurts and nothing can scare me or hurt me, and I don’t-“
“You’re not in a dream, bunny. That’s your reality. This is real. Nothing can, or will, hurt you, scare you. No one will ever touch you again.”
“I need more time. Please.” Simon sighs, but doesn’t push, and the two of you lay there, together, suspended in comforting silence. For another moment, your world is a dream. A safe, beautiful dream, where happy endings are real, where love stretches on for eternity, unconditional, limitless, unbreakable.
You’re so different now, stark changes shocking to the girl you once knew, the one who doubled back on her routes to and from work, the one that walked everywhere with her hackles up. Little pieces of black rot now turned a blinding white, a brilliant beam seeking to shine on the whole of your life.
It’s a dream.
One you won’t easily surrender.
“I was really young.” It comes during a lapse in conversation, practically a blurt, an interruption pushing heat to your cheeks. Expelled from your mind, your body without choice, cracks appearing in the preservation that you’ve so defiantly clung to. You have to tell them, eventually. You have to break it all apart, let them see. Johnny’s mouth opens, and Simon’s hand darts to his wrist faster than a snake could strike, a clear signal. Don’t speak. “Obviously now, looking back on it, I realize I was groomed, or I guess, easily influenced. He was older, and I graduated early, started college early. I was in my second year when I turned eighteen. My mom,” the lump in your throat nearly chokes you until you swallow it down, “my mom busted her ass for me. I went to college on scholarships and her hard work.” Metal clanks against ceramic, forks settling on the edges of plates. “Anyway, everyone always thought I was a know-it-all and pretty awkward. We weren’t officially like, together right away but it was pretty serious from the day I met him. Eventually… he started to change me. Change my goals. He even manipulated my career path.”
“What did you go to school for?” Simon asks casually, head tilted.
“Bioscience. I wanted to be a doctor, so I thought it would transition well for med school. Thought I could become a surgeon.” You were a girl then; you know that now. Naïve, misguided by a hand that sought to control you, not love you as you hoped. It’s embarrassing, baring this, showing these broken bits and pieces to them, shattered shards of a mirror never glued back together.
“What happened?”
“He did.” Johnny squeezes your hand. “Made it to pre-med but ended up leaving and starting a nursing program instead. It’s what he wanted, and by then, I couldn’t say no.”
“But ye didnae want it, to be a nurse.”
“No. I didn’t. I love my job now, of course, and I’m happy in it, but originally, I wanted something else. He tricked me, in all honesty. Showed me something that wasn’t real, reeled me in, and then revealed his true colors.” You shudder. “The first time… the first time it happened, I shook it off, forgave him. I-“ the memory is still so strong, it stuns you. The blood from your busted lip is fresh on your tongue, sting on the side of your face turning to a blooming ache.
“Bunny?” Johnny’s grip moves to your elbow, strong, but not too tight. An anchor. You shake your head.
“Sorry.”
“Ye’re alright, ye can stop if-“
“No, I… I want to share these things with you. It feels like I’m supposed to, like you should know me… like this.”
“We already know you, sweetheart. Don’t push yourself.” Simon’s tone is serious, and you nod.
“It’s embarrassing, looking back on it and realizing how bad it was, how bad I let it get. How I let him cut me off from everyone, change my career, squash me like a bug.” You laugh, but it’s empty.
“Ye did nothin’ wrong,” Johnny’s lips press together, muscles in his jaw straining, “was never yer fault.” You don’t answer, just trace the woodgrain of the table, texture moving beneath your fingers. The conversation is draining you, leeching light away like a horizon swallowing the last of the sun.
“He’s rich. Like, fuck you money rich. Rich like make problems go away rich, and his job…” your head shakes again. It’s the most you’ve ever said, heavy buried secrets finally dug up, resurrected, the truth trembles through your bones. “He has resources. Has chased me across the globe more than once. My only saving grace is that when he has to work, he has to work, and it’s usually for long chunks of time.”
“I know you’ve said you’re not really sure, but did he ever tell you what his job entails?”
“He’s in the military. Some sort of security work, department of defense, or something. He never really talked about it.” Johnny shifts in his seat, antsy, and you shrug. “He kept that part of his life very, very private. There was even a room in the house that was always locked.” Your head is heavy, lead upon your shoulders, and Johnny tucks his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.
“I know this is hard bun, but ye’re so brave for us. Lettin’ us know ye this way. I’m proud of ye.” He murmurs, lips to your forehead, and you fully relax, wrapping around his middle.
“I’m tired.” You whisper, eyes closing, and he rubs your back.
“Let’s get ye to bed then.”
“Your child is too big for me to carry!” You announce, hand on your hip, little backpack straps looped around your arm. Simon closes the door behind you, chuckling, and Penny plops onto the floor. She goes to a nursery day program now a few days a week, something that was a contentious subject in the house for far too long, opinions and arguments ping ponging over your head until the decision was finally made.
“It’s not safe.”
“Ye cannae keep ‘er locked up here forever, love.”
“Why not?” Simon bounced Penny against his chest, unimpressed look on both their faces, so alike you almost busted out laughing.
“Because she’s a child. She needs to be w’other children, not just us.” Johnny brings his free hand to his lips, squeezing Simon’s wrist. “I know ye’re scared.” Simon’s not the only one who’s scared, you thought. Phillip lurked at the edge of your mind, worry that he might find Penny plagued you, even though they both assured that wasn’t their main concern.
“She’s too little.”
“Simon. We agreed on this,” Johnny gives him a sharp look, “do yer research, find the best one. Ye know this needs to happen, for her. She needs to make friends, learn how to interact with kids her own age. Ye know this.”
“Fine.”
“She cannae be, not m’wee lamb.”
“She is.” You rub your shoulder. “Sheesh.” Penny’s stomach gurgles at your feet, and Simon grimaces.
“There’s a bug goin’ around the kids, teacher told me today.”
“Not surprising. Nurseries are little petri dishes.” You straighten your back, rolling your shoulder, and wince.
“Hurts?” Simon’s thumb digs into the soft spot there, and your lashes flutter.
“Maybe ye need a hot bath,” Johnny suggests, and Simon ushers the two of you up the stairs.
“I’ve got Pen. Go relax.”
“This is nice.” Johnny soaps your back, lavender and vanilla steam swirling around in the bathroom as you lean against him, his chest to your back.
“Aye.” The cloth drags across your chest, teasing your nipples, and you revel in his touch, soaking in every second he gives you, the brush of his cheek against yours, his lips on your neck. “Like havin’ ye all to myself sometimes.” You blink.
“Does it bother you? When we’re not all together?”
“No. Ye have a relationship wit’ me, and wit’ Simon, and we have a relationship all together. No one is the same. I like it.”
“Me too.” You settle again, loose and tender in the bath, soaped hands running up and down your back, kneading your shoulders, releasing the tension coiled in your bones. You groan.
“Feel good then?”
“Yeah.” He presses a hand over your heart with a deep breath, before he takes another.
And then one more.
“What’s wro-“
“I love ye bun. Wholly. Think ‘ve loved ye since the day I opened my eyes to ye leaning over the bed in hospital.” You turn, twisting to face him, and he dabs your nose with his thumb. “I dinnae have any expectations of ye, or yer feelings, but I had to be honest. I had to tell ye.” The confession fights its way forward, begging to be let out, to be freed.
Tell him. Tell him the truth. Tell him you love them, that they’re your light, that they’ve chased the darkness away and replaced it with the sun.
You can’t.
Instead, you rest your forehead against his, syncing your breathing, sharing the moment, holding onto him so tight in case he slips away.
“I can’t say it.” You whisper, and he nods. “But that doesn’t mean… it doesn’t mean it’s not there. I’m just… I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“An’ that’s okay. I’ll wait, I’ll wait for ye as long as ye need.” There’s no pressure, no demands, just Johnny and his arms, his understanding and patience, his love.
You blink back tears and crash your lips to his. “Thank you.”
Your stomach is what wakes you.  
Something it in is burning, tossing bile around, the sensation strong enough your lips curl, and you try to draw a deep breath through your nose.
You wriggle, trying to pull free from where you’re tangled up in Simon and Johnny, carefully and slow, hoping to avoid waking them though you know even in their dreams, they sleep with one eye open.
 Still, you manage to make it to the bathroom before feet are padding across the carpet on your heels.
You sink to your knees in front of the toilet, stomach bubbling, sending the scorching remnants of dinner up your throat.
The door clicks open. “No, get out. I don’t want you to see-“ you gag again, tap turning on at the sink, a cold washcloth folding over your neck.
“Shhh,” Simon murmurs, rubbing your back, “get it all out.”
“Oh god,” another wave swells, and your muscles tense, body expelling bits of bile and not much else.
“That’s the way, good girl.”
“This is gross.” You gasp. “You should go back to bed.”
“I’ve seen way worse than you puking, sweetheart.”
“She alright?” Johnny half yells from the bedroom and you groan. The guilt of him having to maneuver himself out of bed, still not one hundred percent healthy, still not back to full strength, draws a shiver from your spine.
“I’m fine, don’t come in here!” Your stomach pitches, fingers tightening against your thighs, but nothing comes up, again and again, until everything settles and you’re breathing deeply, steady, back straight.
“Let’s get you some water.” There’s no point in arguing with him. He’s going to do what he wants to do when it comes to taking care of you, you know that now. It’s painfully clear as he tries to help you drink from the glass, and then puts toothpaste on your toothbrush.
“I’m fine.” You assure weakly, but he only watches you, concerned.
“Think it’s the nursery bug?”
“Probably.” You sag, energy drained completely, and he steadies you, cupping your cheek. His touch is cool, and you lean into it, savoring the reprieve it brings against your throbbing temples.
“Want to go back to bed?”
“What if I throw up again?” He presses a kiss to your forehead.
“I’ll jus’ clean it up.”
“Can I ask you a question?” You glance up at the timid mouse of a nurse, brand new, fingers clutched around a tablet like she’s drowning and it’s her life vest.
“What’s up?”
“Can you… can you look at these orders for me?” She looks terrified, and it tells you everything you need to know. She’s probably caught a mistake.
Baby nurses begin their careers in a delicate position. They’re overwhelmed, fresh off a whirlwind of orientation, overloaded with policy and procedure, and depending on their preceptor, either somewhat prepared or completely lost. Pitting a baby nurse against a provider, even a first-year resident, is like sending a lamb in to confront a lion. The result is usually tears.
She hands you the tablet and you spot it immediately. Incorrect dosage.
“Good catch.” You reassure, coaxing a small smile, and she nods.
“What do I do?”
“We go find the provider and clarify the dosage.” You’re not going to leave it up to her, alone, hang her out to dry and probably get run over by whatever moron ordered it in the first place, who happens to be-
Marshall.
Your eyes couldn’t roll any harder. “The pharmacy is also very on top of seeing errors like this, but it’s good you’ve noticed too, for the patient and yourself. Liability for things like this can be very tricky.” She nods again, trailing behind you, brand new squeaky sneakers echoing your own steps.
You can’t stop the sigh that escapes you when you find him, leaned up against a wall, arms crossed, smirking, cocking his head at your companion. “What’s up?”
“Can you take a look at this for me?” You purposefully zoom in on the meds tab, practically painting a bullseye around his error. He scoffs, defensive immediately, dismissive, before he takes a closer look, jaw clenched.
“That’s my mistake.” You blink. Marshall rarely ever takes responsibility so gracefully. Your eyebrow lifts.
“Care to fix it?”
“Of course.” His agreement is punctuated with a smile, though it’s off kilter.
“You can go,” you nod to the nurse, “good job.” Her eyes dart between you and Marshall, and without another word, scampers off.
“She’s new?” His usual interest in new nurses is less enthusiastic than ever.
You hate Marshall. He’s a scumbag. But he’s also been your coworker since day one, and you can’t help yourself. “What’s up with you?”  
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve never owned up to a mistake that quickly, and you didn’t even make some smart-ass remark. Or berate her. Or give me an attitude.” He winces.
“It’s nothing.” But it doesn’t seem like nothing. It seems like something is wrong, like he’s sad, or depressed, and try as you might, your bleeding heart can’t walk away.
“What’s wrong.” You phrase a statement, a demand, instead of a question, and he blows a frustrated breath.
“It’s… I’m seeing someone.” Your eyes go wide.
“Who?” Please don’t say a nurse, please don’t say a nurse, please-
“Anna. From radiology.”
“Oh my god. The cupcake girl?” Anna was a fan favorite. Not only was she kind, but she was also quick with her reads, and baked cupcakes for the entire floor almost once a month. As far as radiologists go, she was better than most.
“Yeah.”
“Okay…”
“I really like her but… she’s always been aware of my reputation and is trying to take it slow. Too slow.” You could lecture him with a million reasons why she’s in the right, but it doesn’t seem like he’s got the resolve to handle it.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s dragging her feet. Doesn’t want to hang out more than once a week, rarely stays the night. I’ve been to her place a handful of times, but that’s it.”
“How long has it been?”
“Two months.” You laugh.
“That’s it?”
“It’s a long time for me!” You hold your hands up in surrender.
“Okay, okay, but seriously. Two months is no time at all. Have you discussed the… reluctance with her?” He seems uneasy, and for the first time, you’re not sure if you enjoy watching him squirm.
“Yeah. She says she’s happy, but isn’t trying to jump into anything,” his air quotes carry a whiff of the condescending asshole you know too well. This conversation couldn’t be timelier, and you think back to what you told Johnny the other night.
“Just because she’s taking it slow doesn’t mean her feelings for you aren’t there. You have to respect that. If she’s still putting up with you after two months, I’d bet she’s just being cautious. Getting hurt sucks.” He nods thoughtfully. “Give her the time she’s asking for, and don’t give up.”
Don’t give up.
The sentiment twists a knife lodged deep in your heart. Is that what will happen to you? Will they give up? Get tired of waiting for you to spill all your secrets, get tired of waiting for you to take the final step? To tell them you love them?
Get tired of waiting for you to let them use your real name?
“I didn’t expect her, didn’t expect to feel this way.” The mask comes down, revealing a hopelessly lovesick heart, the depth of it shining in his eyes.
“I don’t think anyone ever does expect it. That’s the surprising thing about love, I guess.” You sway, a palm pressed to the wall as your hand flattens over your stomach.
“You alright?” Marshall’s voice is far away as you breathe through your nose, trying to fend off the nausea tightening your throat.
“Sorry, I’ve been a bit under the weather. Think I’ve got a bug or something.” Your stomach roils in warning, and you barely grit out an apology before dashing away.
Just in time to toss your breakfast up in the toilet.
“I’m fine.”
“I heard you in the toilet. You didn’t sound fine, and you shouldn’t be working if you’re sick.” Your manager shakes her head like she’s disappointed, and you glare. You both know if you had called this morning talking about a stomach bug, she would have told you to suck it up unless you were actively vomiting.
“Look around. Do you see an excess of nurses on the floor?”
“We’ll manage. Or call someone in.” You shake your head.
“We’re already way past policy ratios.” You bite your tongue when safe nearly slips out, not wanting to piss her off. That’s the union’s job.
“At least go sit down or something. Take a break. Come back in twenty minutes and let me know how you feel.”
Your closet is cozy, and for once during the day, unoccupied. The nausea has subsided, for now, and you shoot a text to the guys, asking about Penny. If you feel like this, you can’t imagine how she feels.
You curl up and imagine you’re home instead, maybe in bed with a sleeve of crackers and some soda, warm chest at your back, a hand stroking over your hip. Maybe you’d have some soup, maybe the three of you would watch a movie after Pen went down for bed. You start to drift in the domestic fantasy, sleeping curling itself like a blanket over your shoulders, until you’re startled by the vibration of your phone, foot kicking forward in a jolt against a shelf.
A box falls to the floor.
HCG strips.
You stare at it for a long time, numbers and dates and weeks mashing together, calculations getting lost in the fray.
You’re not…
No.
Ridiculous. Not even possible. You’re on the pill. Religiously.
You have the nursery bug that Pen brought home. Get a grip.
Still…
You use the fifth-floor bathroom, one of the only single occupant toilets in the whole damn hospital, nausea now coming from a completely different source.
The timer on your phone is incredibly slow, or maybe it’s just time itself, the world turning in slow motion, every second elongated into turbulent silence, too many thoughts, too many feelings, too much of everything to tell where one ends and the other begins.
Fear.
Anxiety.
Panic.
Sadness.
Grief.
It’s grief that is the strongest. Grief for something that Phillip stole, mourning for something that was once so close, so real, and then gone in an instant.
If you close your eyes, you can still feel his boot in your stomach. The press of a steel toe, jammed beneath your ribs, wild, deranged eyes staring down at you in a rage.
But-
Buried so, so far beneath the crushing weight of it all, there is a bright little pocket of sunshine. A small little sliver of light, beams of hope stretching for the sky, warmth spilling over until your hands tremble with the conflict warring inside you.
Nothing has changed, but everything could.
The timer goes off with a shrill chime, and you lean over the sink to where the small strip sits on top of a cup.
A bold pink line.
And then another, more faint, but certainly there. A simple equation, one plus one equals two. Simple math.
Tangible. Present.
Pregnant.
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tradgedyinwaves · 2 months ago
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First Choice - Part 2
Part two of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: social anxiety, self-doubt, drinking
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A month. You didn't go back to the bar for a full month. Avoided the place like it was the birthplace of the plague. And it was to you. You didn't want to run the risk that they were there again, that the man in the mask would berate you for making eye contact with him that night despite knowing he'd probably forgotten about you 30 seconds after. Social anxiety was a bitch.
But they were there. EVERY. FUCKING. FRIDAY.
Ghost thought he was going to lose his mind. The others had started to think he'd imagined you or had a hallucination of you. So when they sat down on the fifth Friday, there wasn't a mention of you from them. Simon still kept his eye out for you.
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Surely a month was long enough that they'd have moved on, gotten bored with the dark, dingy bar and the same crowd every Friday. Arriving with your friends, your heart was in your throat and there was a swirl of nausea in your stomach.
They're not here. They're not here. They're not here.
The mantra was on repeat, but you couldn't help checking the back table anyway. You froze where you were standing as your eyes landed on the four larger men, your friend bumping into your back and asking what was wrong. You shook your head and gave her a weak smile, claiming you thought you saw someone.
You took your usual seat at the bar, tucked into the far corner where you could see the table of men and watched as your own friends filtered out onto the floor again. It was so easy for them to just introduce themselves to men, flirt their way to free drinks and possibly a nice little one night stand.
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Ghost clocked you the moment the bell above the door dinged pathetically against the wood door and you walked in with three of your friends including the little blonde that informed them that you would be there every Friday. His gloved hand reached out and smacked Soap center chest, incidentally grabbing everyone's attention at the table as well.
"That her, LT?" Soap asked, eyes darting between his lieutenant and you. Soap eyed you for a moment, taking in the open scoop neck long sleeve shirt and the swell of your breasts that weren't hidden very well.
"Tha's 'er. Pretty thing, hm?" Ghost replied before picking up his glass and knocking it back, mouth suddenly dry as the Sahara. You were as pretty as he remembered and the urge to have a picture of you with him at all times roared to life in his chest.
Gaz being on the end gave him the best view of you, taking in the jeans that hugged your plump hips and ass. He could also see the way you held your jacket over your stomach to hide your belly as best you could.
Price could tell you were uncomfortable, watching you watch your friends with a hint of resentment and disdain in your eyes. He hadn't missed that all of your friends were "conventionally beautiful" and he could see that it bothered you.
"Go get her," Price suggested to Gaz, nudging him a bit as he knew Gaz was the proper man to send. You'd never come over if any of the rest of them approached you. Ghost made a disgruntled noise, looking to his captain for a brief moment of silent communication before he nodded, conceding to his superior.
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You ordered your whiskey, sipping on it as you flipped between checking on your friends and scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You couldn't help but to let your eyes flick up from the dim screen to check on the table in the corner every once in a while.
Which was where your eyes were now, but there was one missing, the pretty one. Oh, he wasn't missing. He was settling himself against the stool next to you, looking down at you with those molten eyes of his and a friendly smile. "Come join us for a drink. Promise we won't bite. Well, I make no promises about Johnny."
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Yup. I did a part two. This is really speaking to me right now for some reason.
Hope you guys liked it!
<- Part One Part Three ->
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blushweddinggowns · 4 months ago
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Eddie sighed as he turned to the bartender, “Can I have the cheapest beer you got? But you only let me have one?”
The guy nodded at him, passing one over with a sympathetic smile, “Designated driver?”
“Something like that,” Eddie said, his eyes wandering back to the dance floor. At least the two of them were having fun, giggling and twirling each other around. They were cute together, always were. No one could make Steve smile like Robin could, a fact that Eddie was just going to have to accept.
He sipped his beer as he watched them, smiling to himself a little at how happy they looked. Until someone was tapping on his shoulder. Eddie glanced up, surprised to see a guy standing there. He looked… good. J.Crew-esque with a bright smile.
“You don’t really look like the type to come in here,” He said, taking the bar stool next to him.
Eddie gave him a once over, deciding to be quick about not leading him on. He shrugged,  “I’m not, but the people I love are.”
The guy nodded along, his eyes trailing to the dance floor. Eddie followed the line of it, frowning when he realized he was looking right at Steve. Robin was in the middle of dipping him, both of them laughing. Eddie swallowed as he looked at them, watching the shine of the bright, colorful dance light cross over his face. He looked gorgeous, relaxed and giggly as he went to return the favor to her. Though now that Eddie was looking around he was realized he wasn’t the only one staring.
“Speaking of that,” The guy went on, “What’s the deal with the guy you came in with?”
Eddie’s frown only deepened at the question, “Who, Steve?”
“Is that his name?” The stranger asked, obviously interested. 
At least he had good taste, Eddie had to give him that. Even if the question had his eye twitching, “Yeah, that’s his name.”
"So is he single or is the blonde a permanent fixture?" He asked. 
Eddie snorted, “She’s a permanent fixture, all right. But she’s queer as a three-dollar bill, so not much to worry about there.”
That was the wrong answer if the excited look on his face was any indicator. 
“You know what kind of drink he likes?” He asked, already motioning for the bartender. 
Eddie swallowed, the sick feeling coming back. The worst part is that he could see it. Steve with someone like this. Handsome, self-assured, confident. Actually comfortable in their own skin. He couldn’t help but think they would look good together. 
The thought just wasn’t enough to stop Eddie from blurting, “Of course I do. He’s my boyfriend after all.” 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did he just say that? Eddie bit the inside of his cheek at the stupid lie. At how easily it had rolled off his tongue. 
“Oh yeah?” He asked, disappointment coloring his voice. 
Eddie had ample time to correct himself, to say my bad. He’s my best friend. That was a slip of the tongue. To say anything else.  
He doesn’t.
No, not when the anxiety he had firmly nestled in the pit of his stomach finally started to soften. Besides, Eddie liked how disheartened he looked. 
He liked it enough to keep lying his ass off. He took another sip of his beer, feigning casual, “Hard to tell since the two of them have been hanging off each other all night. But yeah, he’s mine.”
He hadn’t expected for those words to feel so good.  
The guy sighed, “Well, good for you man. He’s a looker, I doubt I’m the only one who had my eyes on him.”
“He has that effect on people,” Eddie said, his eyes trailing around the room. Watching every face that was looking Steve’s way. He hated it on them just as much as he did on the stranger next to him. 
Fuck it, he was already in this deep. He might as well keep it going.
“Feel free to spread the word,” Eddie added as the guy stepped away, “It will save me some time.”
“Will do,” He sighed again before walking off, setting his sights on someone else. 
The bartender chuckled as he wandered off, clearly eavesdropping in, “You want me to spread the word too? I’ve already got four guys who are looking to buy him a drink when he gets off the floor.”
Eddie was barely surprised. 
“Spread it like wildfire,” He said easily, his eyes going straight back to Steve.
Part of him had expected some guilt when people started looking his way. Whispering to each other while Eddie glared at anyone who even looked like they wanted to get to Steve. He knew he could cut an intimidating figure when he wanted to. The way he dressed usually did most of the heavy lifting, but he didn’t doubt how harshly his expressions were coming off. It also helped that every last guy who came to saddle up to the bartender to try and get a drink going for Steve walked away disappointed once he pointed a thumb towards Eddie’s direction. It definitely earned him a disproportionate tip, despite the fact the Eddie was internally freaking the fuck out.
He didn’t feel guilty, but he felt… possessive. Offended almost that people didn't just assume he was taken. Something that he didn’t know how to rationalize. But that didn’t stop him from trying. 
from the latest chapter of this fic
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etheraltides · 21 days ago
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BENEATH THE NOISE ᯓᡣ𐭩
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x College!Reader
Summarize: It’s hard to deal with deception when you’ve given your best. Luckily, Rafe knows how to get to you.
Warning(s): self depreciation, a hint of anxiety.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the love in my works <3
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The grade wasn’t supposed to define you. That’s what everyone says: “It’s just a number, not a measure of your worth.” But as you sit staring at the email on your screen, the words blur, letters and numbers melting together until you can only feel one thing: failure.
The exam’s grade - the one you poured sleepless nights, early mornings, and everything in between into – sits there in stark black and white, unchangeable, final. You can’t look away, even as the panic bubbles into shame and then into the familiar, relentless self-criticism. Even as the salty tears begin to blurry your vision.
“How could I have been so stupid?” you think, teeth pressing into your lower lip. “All those hours… wasted. What’s the point if this is the result?” The thoughts spiral faster, slipping away from you. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this. Maybe I’m just fooling myself. Everyone else makes it look so easy.”
With a shaky breath, you shut your laptop and curl up on your bed, tugging the blanket over yourself as if it could shield you from the whirlwind in your mind, from the world and those mocking numbers. You feel your phone buzz, but you ignore it. Then it buzzes again, and again. It’s Rafe, no doubt, checking in, but you can’t bring yourself to reply. You’re not in the mood for talking and pretending to be fine, or worse – the pity you know will be laced into his voice if he finds out how badly you did.
But Rafe isn’t one to be easily put off. He leaves message after message, each one laced with growing concern and slight irritation.
“Hey, baby. Just checking in. How’d the test go?”
A minute later, “Everything okay? Call me when you get this. You’re working me, baby.”
Another text, his humor slipping through: “I’m gonna assume you’re just taking a nap and ignoring the world like you usually do when you’re stressed.”
And then, finally, a call. You glance at the screen, seeing his name flash, but even though part of you aches to hear his voice, you can’t bring yourself to answer. Instead, you turn off the phone entirely, sinking further into the blanket cocoon, feeling more alone and defeated with every minute that ticks by.
Rafe spends the better part of an hour trying to reach you. First, it’s gentle check-ins, then some light teasing, then a note of worry threading through his texts. When all his messages stay stuck on “delivered” with no response, he throws on a jacket, grabs his car keys, and heads out the door. He’s had enough off of it.
The drive is a blur, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he runs through what he’ll say to you when he gets there. He’d scold you for being a brat and making him worry when all you had to do was type some goddamn words on your phone. It wasn’t so hard. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of something actually happening to you.
By the time he arrives at your place, it’s late enough that the lights outside are dim, casting long shadows across the driveway. He knocks once, twice in your bedroom’s door once your mom lets him in.
“She’s been there for hours.” Your mom sighs, looking up at the stairs as she puts your untouched plate of dinner in the refrigerator. “The results of her exam came in and well… You know how hard she can be with herself.”
Rafe rubs hand on his neck, he had completely forgot that the result would be today and he knew how hard you’ve been studying.
He knocks on your door once and when there’s no answer, he gently turns the knob, letting himself in.
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It’s quiet inside, save for the faint sound of your breathing as he steps into your room. He sees you there, huddled under the blankets, your back to the door, your shoulders slightly shaking. His heart clenches in pain and worry as you look so small hiding in the many blankets. Wordlessly, Rafe slips off his shoes, walking over to your bed. Without a word, he lifts the edge of the blanket and slides in beside you, his warmth immediately seeping through the layers of fabric that separate you.
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, letting his presence speak for itself. Slowly, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest. You stiffen at first, your pride fighting the comfort he’s offering, but then the dam breaks, and you lean into him, hiding your face in his shoulder.
He strokes your hair gently, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” He presses a light kiss to the top of your head, letting the silence settle for a few moments longer before he speaks again.
“Want me to talk to your professor?” he murmurs, a playful edge creeping into his tone. “Because I could pay a visit, you know… straighten him out, remind him that no one messes with my girl.” He squeezes you a little tighter. “Just say the word.”
You can’t help the small, broken laugh that escapes you, muffled by his shirt. You know he’s kidding – or at least, half-kidding – but there’s a part of you that believes he might actually show up at your professor’s office if you asked him to. That thought alone lightens the weight on your chest, even if just a little.
“You don’t need to go after my professor, Rafe,” you mumble, a hint of sarcasm breaking through the sadness. “Even though… I wouldn’t mind seeing the look on his face if you did, it wasn’t his fault.”
Rafe chuckles softly, squeezing your shoulder. “If you change your mind, I’ve got my car gassed up and ready.”
The laugh fades, and you fall silent again, the weight of the failure still pressing down on you. After a few moments, you pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Rafe… what if I’m just not good enough? What if I’ve been trying so hard for nothing?”
You wrap your arms around his torso, fingers absently tracing random shapes on his t-shirt as the words left your trembling lips. “Maybe I should just quit it. Spare myself all the deception.”
He keeps his hold on you, his voice staying low and gentle. “Baby, you’re one of the smartest people I know. This grade? It doesn’t change that. Not even a little.”
You start to protest, but he shushes you, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “No, I’m serious. You’re so hard on yourself, and I get it. But you need to remember that one test doesn’t undo everything you are, everything you’ve done. It’s just one small thing in a million great things about you.”
The words come out softly and so certain, almost like a confession, and you see the shift in his expression as he meets your gaze. He lifts a hand, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes soft and steady. “Then you try again, and again, if you have to. But you’re anything but ‘not good enough.’ You’re brilliant, and hard-working, and stubborn as hell. I’ve seen you tackle way harder stuff than this.”
You shake your head, unable to accept the kindness in his voice. “But I… I feel so dumb, Rafe. Like all this effort is just… wasted. Like I’m not cut out for this.”
Rafe’s expression softens even more, and he tilts your chin up, making sure you’re looking into his eyes. “Baby, listen to me. One test, one mistake – none of that changes who you are or what you’re capable of. You’re allowed to be human, to mess up sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less amazing, okay?”
His words linger, breaking down the wall you’ve built around your pride and pain. For the first time since you got the grade, you start to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’s right. You were being too harsh in yourself.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you place a kiss to his cheek.
“Always,” he replies, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “Now, let’s stay here as long as you need, but when you’re ready, we’ll go grab some terrible takeout, or watch that show you like. Whatever you want. But for now… just let me hold you.”
You nod, settling against him, the rise and fall of his chest calming the storm in your mind. And as you lie there, surrounded by his warmth and steady heartbeat, the self-criticism starts to soften, the harsh thoughts fading, leaving only the quiet reassurance that you’ll be okay.
As you lie curled up against him, letting his warmth seep into you, Rafe’s hand gently runs along your back in soothing circles. You can feel the steady beat of his heart, grounding you, pulling you away from the spiral of self-doubt. After a long silence, you finally lift your head, your face inches from his as you meet his gaze. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just quiet understanding, and something even softer.
Slowly, he reaches up, brushing a thumb across your cheek, and you feel yourself lean into his touch. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and after a beat, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s soft, gentle, like he’s pouring all his reassurance into you without a single word. His fingers slip to the back of your neck, his hold gentle but certain, as if anchoring you to the moment, grounding you in his presence and pulling you away from the loud thoughts in your mind.
He pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, and you feel his breath, warm and steady. “I’m here,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a murmur. “No grade, no test can change that. You’re more than enough, and I’m not going anywhere.” His thumb grazes your cheek again, his eyes filled with warmth and conviction, and in that moment, the weight on your heart feels a little lighter, the storm in your mind a little quieter.
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its-avalon-08 · 2 months ago
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what about franco x reader: reader wants to breakup with him cause she thinks their relationship might not survive his f1 career and she gets insecure about all the girls he’s going to meet and stuff but he reassures her he actually needs her by his side? 🙏
why me? (fc43)
✦ pairing - franco colapinto x female!reader
✦ genre - angst, tears, break up, insecurity, fluff
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Y/N's heart pounded as she stared at the news notification on her phone. Franco had finally done it—he had secured a seat with Williams in Formula 1. The moment she should’ve been ecstatic for him, proud of all his hard work and determination, instead left her feeling hollow. It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of him; she was, more than words could express. But the overwhelming wave of uncertainty crushed her, drowning out the joy she wanted to feel.
This is it. This is the beginning of the end.
She could already see the cracks forming, fractures in their relationship that hadn’t even happened yet. Franco, with his charm and talent, was bound to be surrounded by so many new people—drivers, celebrities, and worst of all, beautiful women who’d be drawn to him like moths to a flame. He would be traveling constantly, pulled in a thousand directions by his career. Where did that leave her?
It’s better to end things now, she reasoned with herself, as painful as the thought was. She didn’t want to be the clingy girlfriend sitting on the sidelines, wondering if he’d forget about her. What if she wasn’t enough for him anymore? What if, in the chaos of fame, he realized he wanted more than what they had?
Tears burned her eyes as she stared blankly at the screen. I can’t do this. I have to let him go before he lets me go.
time skip
Y/N felt a strange mix of pride and unease as she walked into the paddock with Franco. The energy here was electric, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Franco, in his Williams gear, looked like he belonged—every inch the rising F1 star. But that only heightened her anxiety.
As soon as they stepped further in, a small crowd began to gather around them, particularly around Franco. Models, influencers, and PR representatives, all with perfectly polished smiles, swarmed him, vying for his attention. Their bright laughter and easy charm grated on Y/N’s nerves, even though she tried her best not to show it. This was part of his life now, and she had to accept it.
But do I really?
One of the models leaned in a little too close, her hand brushing Franco’s arm as she laughed at something he said. Franco, ever polite, smiled and responded, clearly uncomfortable but not wanting to be rude. Y/N stood off to the side, suddenly feeling like an outsider in his world. The women around him were stunning—tall, glamorous, and effortlessly confident. How could she compete with that?
Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she absentmindedly unlocked it, scrolling through Instagram as a distraction. Her heart sank when she stumbled upon the latest post of Franco—one from his PR team, showing him posing by his car, looking effortlessly cool in his racing gear.
The comments were flooded with compliments.
“OMG, Franco is so hot. 😍” “Imagine being his girlfriend… I would die for that smile!” “Ugh, how is he single? I need him in my life.” “He could have any girl he wants tbh.”
Y/N’s stomach twisted, her fingers tightening around her phone as she scrolled through more of the comments. Each one felt like a knife digging deeper into her insecurities. These girls didn’t even know him, but they spoke as if he was already theirs.
She glanced up, catching Franco laughing politely at something one of the models said. The sight stung. He was just being his usual kind, respectful self, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch. Her mind raced with doubts. Would it always be like this? Her, standing on the sidelines, while he was surrounded by people who seemed to fit into his new world far better than she ever could?
Maybe this is how it starts, she thought, her throat tightening. Maybe one day he’ll realize he deserves someone like them—someone more glamorous, more confident, more… everything.
The thought hit her like a tidal wave. She could barely breathe as her fingers hovered over her phone screen. Should she say something? Should she pull him aside and tell him what was going through her mind? But then, would he even understand? Or would he just brush off her feelings as irrational?
She took a step back, trying to create space between herself and the scene unfolding in front of her. Her phone buzzed again, and she instinctively checked it, only to see more comments flooding in under Franco’s post.
“I can’t believe he’s still single… lucky girls at the paddock.” “Franco, when are you going to date someone? 😏”
Her heart dropped. I’m right here, but no one even knows that I exist. Y/N closed the app, shoving her phone into her pocket as she tried to fight off the suffocating wave of insecurity building inside her.
Franco finally broke free from the crowd, excusing himself from the models with a gracious smile before turning back to Y/N. He frowned when he noticed her distant expression, walking over and taking her hand. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.
She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine."
Franco didn’t seem convinced, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "You sure? You’ve been quiet all morning."
Y/N glanced around at the women still lingering nearby, their gazes lingering on Franco even as he stood by her side. The weight of everything—the comments, the models, the reality of his new life—crushed her. I can’t do this.
"Yeah," she said, pulling her hand from his grasp. "I just need a moment alone." Before Franco could protest, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, confused, as her heart raced with the decision she had already made.
She couldn’t let this continue. She couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.
Y/N had barely spoken since Franco got back from his meetings with Williams. He immediately sensed something was wrong, her usually bright demeanor muted, her smiles forced.
"Y/N, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all day," Franco asked, concern etched in his face as he sat down beside her. His hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
She pulled away slightly, feeling the weight of her decision crashing over her again. "Franco, I… I’ve been thinking. About us."
His brow furrowed, the confusion clear in his eyes. "What do you mean? What’s there to think about? Everything’s fine, isn’t it?"
Everything’s not fine.
She drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "You’re going to be a Formula 1 driver, Franco. This is huge—bigger than anything. Your life is going to change completely, and I don’t… I don’t think our relationship is going to survive that."
He blinked, stunned. "What? Why would you even say that? Y/N, we’ve been through so much together, why would you think this would break us?"
"Because you’re going to be away all the time," she burst out, her voice trembling. "You’re going to meet all these new people, and—Franco, you’re going to be surrounded by girls who are way more interesting, more beautiful, more… everything than me. And I can’t compete with that. I’m scared that you’ll realize you don’t need me anymore."
He looked at her like she had just said the most absurd thing in the world. "Y/N, stop. You really think I care about any of that? About some random people I’m going to meet? That’s not what matters to me."
"You say that now," she muttered, crossing her arms as if to shield herself from the pain of her own words. "But what if it changes? You’ll be busy all the time, caught up in your career, and I’ll just be… here. Waiting."
Franco’s jaw clenched as he grabbed her hand, his eyes intense and unwavering. "I need you by my side, Y/N. Not some random person. You." He brought her hand to his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath her palm. "You’ve been with me through everything—the hard times, the wins, the losses. Do you really think I could go through this without you?"
She bit her lip, tears threatening to spill. "But what if—"
"No." Franco’s voice was firm, cutting off her doubts before they could take hold. "No more ‘what ifs.’ I love you, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about the attention, the fans, or any of that. It’s you who grounds me. You’re what keeps me going, even when things get hard. I need you to believe that."
Y/N’s heart twisted, torn between the fear that had been eating away at her and the raw sincerity in his words. "But what if I hold you back? What if you need to focus on your career?"
"Then we figure it out together," he said softly, his hand cupping her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. Not because of fear, not because of this career. I want you with me, every step of the way. You’re the only person who knows the real me. And I need that more than ever now."
Her resolve crumbled as she looked into his eyes, the weight of her fears slowly lifting. "I’m just scared, Franco," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’m scared of losing you."
"You won’t," he promised, pulling her into his arms. "You’re not going to lose me. I need you with me, Y/N. We’re in this together. Always."
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my-fancy-hat · 7 months ago
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The process of creating is the active, constant question of the self, to question the extent of my capacities to convey a message worth of people's respect and admiration. To me, Look Back is a tale of self-reafirmation for Tatsuki Fujimoto. I'm aware it came out in the gap between part 1 and part 2 of the author's best seller, Chainsaw man, which makes this oneshot such an intimate soul-shaking story after what may be the pinnacle of his career. This made me question, why would he write this kind of story after CSM (and Fire Punch) anyways?
Through Fujino and Kyomoto's journey (which funnily, their names convined are Fuji-moto) we are put in the shoes of the stirring yet self-doubting mind of the creator: "why do you draw manga? why do you create?" is the question the protagonist has to find the answer for. Fujino navigate her life for her passion and pride as a talented story-teller artist, while Kyomoto does so for her love for art itself in a more reserved and personal way. Combined, I think they are the rope that pushes Fujimoto back and forth in his mind, the fear of the creator to tell a story worth of people's respect (Fujino) while being faithful to oneself (Kyomoto). Fujimoto knows there always will be an expectation, a mark above his head everytime someone is aware a new story has his signature, so it's understandable for anxiety to take the worst of you, the fear to be openly judged by the masses. So why do you even bother to get through that unpleasant thing? will I ever surpass what I made in my past projects? why do I keep creating? is this all I will ever be? the entire process is tiresome, boring, a never-ending task, I enjoy art better as a consumer anyways, so why?
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If there's only one person who my art made their day better, made them smile or excited for what is coming next, then it was worth every single second I spend working on it.
It's a reafirmation to keep going. That I was born to live into this world for this sake, and I'm worthy to connect and receive this love. This is my place.
I deeply respect you for it, Tatsuki Fujimoto.
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