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neoneun-au · 3 months

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CAN'T HELP MYSELF; CHAPTER IV: HEAR ME OUT

―PAIRING: wonwoo x fem!reader, mingyu x fem!reader ―GENRE: love triangle au, fluff, mild angst, romantic comedy, suggestive, smut ―CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 11.2k ―CHAPTER WARNINGS: angst, mild language, alcohol consumption, therapy, 18+ only ―STATUS: ongoing

―AUTHOR’S NOTE: i cant link them here, but please find the series masterlist and other chapters on my blog. i would love to know your thoughts on the story so far, this is really only fun with interaction and it helps keep me motivation to finish !

iv: hear me out

The morning dawns bright and bleary-eyed and you starfish out in bed, stretching your limbs and feeling more relaxed than you’ve felt in months. You take your time getting ready–a leisurely shower, a lengthy scroll through social media, closing and re-opening the same work email five separate times to reassure yourself that this recent project was in fact not due first thing Monday morning. A weekend of peace and freedom–no looming threat of work obligations and marginally less sexual frustration than usual. Pure bliss.

Sounds of life start to filter in through your door from the hallway about an hour after you first wake up; the rest of condo inhabitants up and about after their own late Friday night escapades. You had heard a few of them coming in around 2:00am or so as you began to drift off to sleep but otherwise what time everyone got in and got to bed was a mystery to you. After a few minutes lingering at the edge of your mattress listening to your stomach rumble, you drop your feet to the ground and step out into the hallway in search of breakfast.

Mingyu, it seems, had the exact same plan as you. His door clicks shut behind him just as you close your own and you stand facing each other like you had just run into your long lost lover at a train station someplace far from home.

“Good morning,” he says after a beat, the hint of a smile beginning to creep in at the corners of his mouth.

“Morning,” you reply, feeling the fog of contentment settle back down to reality as you stand opposite him–your hand tugs gingerly at the hem of your old floral nightshirt.

“How did you sleep?” he asks and you can’t tell if there’s an edge of conspiracy in his voice, an ‘I know what you did last night’ gleam in his eye. You’re probably imagining it. You hope to god you’re imagining it.

“Quite well,” you respond, shaking off the thought and stubbornly refusing to give in to the fear that he had heard you in the midst of your fantasies. You cross your arms over your chest in defense–warding off any further psychic connection. “You?”

“Good,” he replies and you nod in acknowledgement. His gaze flitters from yours to the hallway behind you, pointedly avoiding drifting lower than your face and you realise after a second that he has a fairly decent top down view of your cleavage. You let your arms fall back down. “Got any plans today?”

“Meeting up with some friends later, but aside from that nothing, thankfully,” you reply with a shrug. “How about yourself?”

“Not much,” he mirrors your shrug and you worry for a second that you are going to be left repeating yet another stunted hallway conversation. Thankfully he opens his mouth after a breath to continue, “Though, I think Seungcheol is trying to recruit me for some promotional video for his gym. I told him to ask Vernon since Vernon is the actor.”

“But he still wants you to do it?” you ask, closing the shutter on the mental image of Mingyu lifting weights before it can imbed itself in your subconscious alongside his bare nipples.

“Yeah, he told me Vernon has the body of a wet noodle.”

You laugh, the veil of tension that had descended on the pair of you relaxes back into normalcy at the comment and you’re glad for the distraction. “I would say I’m surprised but that tie-dye is pretty baggy…” you trail off with a grin and Mingyu tosses his head back in laughter before turning with you to head down the hallway.

The kitchen is abuzz with activity when you enter, Seungcheol is deep in a lecture aimed directly at Vernon who appears to not fully be listening despite the occasional cursory nod. The distinctive scent of eggs permeates the air and you notice an array of food already laid out on the table in front of Jeonghan.

“Morning you two,” he greets, one eyebrow raised. As usual, seeking out some sort of intrigue. “Late night?”

“Not really,” you reply, shaking your head and refusing to take the bait. You sit down at the table and swipe a slice of bread from the side of his plate; sinking your teeth into it before he can admonish the theft. “I’ve been awake for an hour already, just hanging out in my room before joining you animals.”

“Is that so?” he asks, unwilling to give up the narrative he has built in his head. You knew confessing to him about your micro-crush (if you could even call it that) on Mingyu was a bad idea, but you thought that after the stern warning and lecture he had given you that he might actually be normal about something for once in his life. No such luck.

You open your mouth to reply, more than ready to raise your own sword in this duel, but you’re cut off before you can begin as the rest of the household takes a seat at the table to join you.

“Mingyu, how did that date go last night?” Seungcheol asks, relieving Vernon of his lecture for now. An apparent relief as Vernon immediately gathers up a small plate of food before retreating from the kitchen completely.

Date? The word shoots through the room like a lightning bolt. Jeonghan glances at you, fox-like features alight with malicious curiosity. You stare wide-eyed at Mingyu as he opens and closes his mouth like a trout caught in a net. “Oh uh…I cancelled it, actually,” he carefully avoids your gaze, instead burying his face in his mug of coffee.

“Cancelled it? Why? I thought you said she was cute?” Seungcheol asks, blissfully ignorant to the relay of glances darting around him. He waits happily for Mingyu to respond, grabbing a few slices of fruit from Jeonghan’s plate before he can swat his hand away.

“She was yeah,” Mingyu concedes with a small laugh. You see a faint hint of red starting to colour the tips of ears as all three sets of eyes around the table fix their attention fully on him, all for different reasons. He rubs at the back of his neck and feigns a nonchalant shrug, though it’s plain to see that he could not be feeling more chalant. “I just didn’t think it was really going to go anywhere, so I cancelled it.”

Seungcheol laughs, taking a bite of his prize apple, “since when have you ever cared about it going somewhere before?”

Mingyu bristles, hackles raised at the implication in the question. An uncharacteristic frown deepens in the corners of his mouth, marring his handsome features. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not just a slut. I do actually want a relationship.”

You’re so caught up in listening to the exchange that you don’t notice his eyes darting to meet yours before it’s too late to avoid them. You find yourself locked in his gaze again, a beat too long to go unnoticed by Jeonghan as he chuckles next to you.

You feel the air around you thicken and scramble to your feet to beat a hasty retreat, following in Vernon’s footsteps. With slightly trembling hands you collect a mug and grasp for the box of assorted teas from the top shelf.

Seungcheol, it seems, has given up on ribbing Mingyu about his dating life and instead turns his attention towards you just as you try and make yourself invisible in the corner while you wait for the kettle to boil. “Ready for another jog tonight?”

“Oh, no I uh–” you stutter, “I actually have plans tonight so I won’t be able to.”

He frowns, wide brown eyes shimmering with disappointment and you feel like you just let your parents down. “This isn’t an excuse to get out of training, is it?” he asks and you shake your head, frantic to dispel the thought.

“No, not at all, one of my friend’s is back in the country, she lives in England and she’s only here–”

Seungcheol holds up a hand–flat, open palm halting your excuses. “Say no more,” he says, “we can reschedule for tomorrow night. Friendship is worth the sacrifice.”

“Oh…okay thanks,” you reply, unsure of what else to do with the proverb. The kettle whistles and you pour the hot water into your mug–careful to avoid sloshing it over the sides.

Tea in hand you turn to rush back towards the safety of your bedroom as Seungcheol and Mingyu strike up a conversation about the national soccer team’s prospects. Jeonghan keeps you locked in his sights as you walk by, fixing you with an evaluating look that would be withering if it weren’t mostly just irritating. You snatch his last slice of toast without looking back.

The hum of the sports bar fills your senses, dulling your thoughts (a not unwelcome intrusion).

It’s the sound of pool balls smashing against each other as they shoot across the beer-stained green top of the billiards table. The faint scent of chlorine bleach mixed with body odor and stale cigarettes. The round robin of songs floating out from the made-to-look-old jukebox in the corner. It was as familiar as it was revolting and you found yourself lost in your surroundings, half expecting an old college fling to rear his ugly head up from behind the bar.

It had been Yerim’s idea to visit a few of your old haunts from before she moved away. Some burst of nostalgia propelling her on a mission to hunt down every decrepit pub and restaurant that you had all graced with your presence–pockets lined with scholarship and loan money intended for tuition and books but all too often spent on cold coffee and hot street food.

Most of them had since closed for business (much to her vocal distress), but the few that she did manage to remember and locate had now become items on her itinerary during her visit.

Thankfully work obligations had kept you busy through half of it and she was mostly content with dragging her English friend around with her, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid it forever. And despite the chaos that usually followed her around like a shadow, you did want to see her before she left again.

So now you’re sitting across from Seulgi and Yerim in some sports bar in Itaewon that you barely remember the name of having been unceremoniously thrust upon arrival into the booth next to Yerim’s friend Sam.

He’s tall, lightly moustached, and smells faintly of bargain bin cologne. He greeted you with an appraising nod that made you somehow both appalled and flattered and now he’s talking at a steady monotone into your ear about some observation on the local food or another while you sip on your lukewarm pint of ale. You’re nodding at the appropriate intervals, giving little hums of approval where needed, but your mind is occupied watching the game of darts across the bar and not actually hearing a single coherent word come out of his mouth.

“It’s a rather tepid way to play, I always thought–”

His voice drones on in the background, roughly the same decibel as the ambient noise of the room so it was easy to ignore. You flick your eyes from his face down to the table and back over to the group of men playing darts. You used to be good at darts. You recall the weight of the slim bolt of metal as it would rest in your palm, waiting for your turn while you were already half-cut on happy hour brews and whatever the guy of the moment was buying for you.

“You know, I’ve always admired a woman’s natural ability to–”

One of the darts group strolls over to the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention as he leans against the back wall and chats with the sole waitress in the place. She looks young, maybe 21 or 22. She’s probably in college, working to pay her way through school or just for some extra spending money. That ash blonde balayage can’t be cheap to maintain…

“Don’t you think so?”

Isn’t that Wonwoo’s friend? Or boss? Or whatever? That short guy with the black ponytail throwing darts? You vaguely recall him from a work dinner years ago at their company, but according to Wonwoo he was a big homebody so you rarely ever saw him.

“Hello, is anyone alive in there?” Seulgi’s voice cuts through your mental fog and you snap back to attention, blinking the focus back into your eyes as you notice everyone at the table staring at you.

“What? Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew, what were we talking about?”

“Who?” Yerim asks, craning her neck to try and spot a familiar face. None appear in her immediate line of sight and the disappointment is evident on her expression as soon as she turns back around. You’re not sure what her intention was in dragging everyone back here but you wouldn’t put it out of the realm of possibilities that she had brewed up some fantasy of running into a washed up ex-boyfriend and getting the chance to flaunt how successful and worldly she has become over the years. Not that you could blame her for the fantasy, you would probably be doing the same in her position.

She excuses herself to the bathroom and you watch as she slips out of her seat and saunters across the room, head bobbing side to side to make sure that there was no one there that she knew before disappearing around the corner.

“You’re so distracted tonight,” Seulgi states, pulling your attention back to her. She’s eyeing you with suspicion, one eyebrow slightly raised, as she sets her empty pint glass down onto the table.

“It’s just been a long time since I’ve been back here, it’s kind of weird.” You shrug off her suspicion, pointedly ignoring her amused scoff. Someone clears his throat beside you and you’re forced to remember Yerim’s gangly British friend.

When you first met up for dinner earlier, Yerim had pulled you aside while he and Seulgi were discussing the cost of beef in Korea vs the UK to gauge your interest in him and through a series of frantic hand signals you were sure you had successfully communicated that you had absolutely zero interest in this cardigan-wearing man even if he was mostly polite and non-threatening. Yerim pouted for a minute, as she was wont to do, before shrugging and reaching for another slice of pork belly and dropping the matter.

Afterwards, it felt like someone had let the steam vent off on a pressure cooker. You were able to relax and Yerim mostly stopped trying to force conversation between yourself and Sam.

Without Yerim around now, though, you realise how out of his element he must feel. A twinge of guilt for how quickly you had written him off started to creep up inside you. Maybe you didn’t want anything romantic with him but did that mean you couldn’t get to know him a bit? Maybe he wasn’t all that boring. Maybe you could get lost in a nice, simple conversation with someone who didn’t have the full documented history of you or your many neuroses.

“So, did you grow up in London?” you ask and he startles, taken off guard by the sudden attention.

“No, uhh–” he stammers and you watch a slight layer of breath fog up his glasses as he snorts a small laugh, “it’s a funny story actually, I–”

“Oh my god!” Yerim’s voice breaks through his sentence as she rushes back towards the table–cutting him off before you have the time to decide whether it actually is a funny story or not.

“Guys, red alert,” she stage-whispers, crashing back into her seat. She’s panting, eyes wide as saucers–for a split second you wonder if she had done a lap outside in the cold. “I just went to the bathroom and you’re never going to guess who–”

Her voice fades into the background as your vision narrows to a point. Wonwoo’s eyes catch yours from the hallway Yeri had just run back from and you feel your heart plummet to its assured death in the pit of your stomach.

When had he gotten here? He’s half a foot taller than most of the people in here, how had you not noticed him earlier? Were you that painfully oblivious or had he crawled in under your nose?

You sit transfixed–frozen solid at the sight of him–and judging by the expression on his face he’s just as shocked to find you here. You’re sure he hadn’t anticipated running into the girl who broke his heart in a random sports bar in Itaewon.

Everything slows to a stop, like one of those scenes in a rom com where the main characters see each other across the room and everything else goes blurry. It’s just them, their feelings, and whatever indie love song was chosen for the soundtrack. You wonder if the actors in those scenes feel it as strongly as you do now. It would be hard to act when you feel like your stomach is going to fall directly out of your ass.

In the span of a breath, as abruptly as it had begun, the spell is over. The director calls cut, the background actors return to normal, the sounds and sights of the bar rush back into your periphery and you’re stuck frozen in your seat, staring at Wonwoo with your jaw slightly unhinged while your friends exchange knowing glances.

“What’s happening?” Sam asks, his voice pinging off the side of your attention like an errant tennis ball.

“I swear I had no clue he was going to be here,” Yerim starts, an edge of panic coating her words as they spill out of her mouth. You barely hear her. You’re too busy watching in horror as Wonwoo seems to also snap back to reality. You see his eyes flit from you to Sam and back again–he seems to be hovering on the precipice of a decision, wheels turning in his mind as he considers all exit strategies. Or at least, that’s what you would be doing in his shoes.

The horror rises higher and higher in your throat as he starts to grow bigger in your vision. A trick of the mind. The object of so many of your thoughts and anxieties exploding into IMAX sized pixels right in front of your naked eyes, expanding over the whole screen of your view until he seems to loom over you like an omnipresent being. It isn’t until he’s about a foot away from you that you realise this is just because he was walking in your direction.

“Hey,” he greets, caution clear in his voice.

You gape at him, open mouthed and floundering, and Seulgi (blessedly) takes over the interaction in your stead before it gets too awkward and everyone explodes in the wake of your embarrassment. “Hello,” she supplies, “did you just get here? I’m surprised we didn’t see you earlier.”

“Yeah,” he nods, a slight awkward laugh cushioning the word as he speaks. “I’m here with some colleagues from work, one of them is a huge Arsenal fan so he wanted to catch the game down here.”

“That’s cool,” she nods and you feel her nudge your shin with the toe of her boot under the table, forcing you out of your slack-jacked state. You snap your mouth shut and take a sip of your drink, averting your eyes from Wonwoo as you feel heat creep up your neck.

Seulgi, uncharacteristically polite, continues, “do you remember Yerim?” the woman in question smiles at him as her name is said and he nods his acknowledgement, “she’s back in Seoul with her friend here. We’re just catching up. How have you been?”

“Good, good,” he starts and then, thinking better of it, clears his throat to retry, “well, not bad. Work and…everything, you know? How are you?”

“Oh, I’m just great,” Seulgi smiles and boots you again. You take the hint and finally lift your gaze, catching Wonwoo’s eyes as they flicker over your face.

“How are you?” he asks again, voice softer. The question is directed at you and you feel the weight of it sink in as you try and sort through your scrambled thoughts for any semblance of a coherent response.

“Fine uh, yeah,” you nod, head bobbing on your neck like a loose spring. “Good. Long time no–umm…Jihoon, is that? How’s every–? You’re? He’s–work good?”

Wonwoo is silent for a second, processing the tangle of words that had just spilled free from your mouth, before you see him connect the dots. “Yeah, he’s doing well. Work is…well the same as always, really. Not much changes there.”

“Right, yeah,” you nod, a pained half smile stretching over your face. You’re sure you look horrific–terrified or terrifying. The heat continues to rise up your neck and into your head, further suppressing any hope for conscious, articulate thought as you buckle under the weight of Wonwoo’s gaze. Seulgi kicks you under the table a third time and you think you might scream.

“I was uh,” he pauses, chuckling lightly. You can see his fingers clutching at the edges of his sleeves, worrying a loose thread as he collects himself. You watch as he wraps and unwraps the thread around his index finger, twisting the rest of the fabric up in his fist. He’s anxious.

You remember making fun of him once–early in your relationship–for this habit. He was even more shy and reserved back then, unable or unwilling to tell you what he was thinking half the time, and unsure the other half. But you could always tell, once he started tugging his sleeves further and further down his arms–hiding his wrists, then hands–that he had something he needed to say. Something he had been worrying about for a while. Truthfully you found it cute, a grown man with sweater paws like a child in his dad’s clothing, but you couldn’t help but tease him anyway. He looked so sweet when he blushed about it, continuing to tug at the ends of his sleeves. And you just wanted him to tell you. You wanted to know, whatever it was on his mind, fraying the ends of his sleeves.

Wonwoo clears his throat and you refocus your gaze on him, heat slowly draining back down through your neck as you do. The feeling of being hunted for sport subsides as you come to your senses finally. “I was actually going to text you, but I just…” he trails off and you nod, encouraging him to continue. You’re sure the three extra sets of eyes boring holes into him with the laser beams of their curiosity is not helping his anxiety. Your own dangerous cocktail of anxious curiosity was a second away from implosion itself.

“There’s some stuff…at the apartment. Mail and…a few things you left behind. I thought you might want to come and pick them up, but I wasn’t sure if…” he gestures vaguely and you nod again. A strange swell of disappointment starts to creep in. That’s it?

“Oh yeah, of course,” you say, swallowing the disappointment down as quickly as it comes. What else could you have been expecting? “I’ll come and take those off your hands. Just um…text me when you’re free?”

He nods and, after a quick wave goodbye, heads back towards the small group of men that had been watching from across the bar. Your eyes follow his retreating back, watching his hands clasp and unclasp the fabric of his sweater as he does, before turning your attention back to your own group.

“Oh my god,” Yerim exclaims in a stage whisper, eyes saucer wide with glee. “He wants you to come over!”

You frown, the intrusive feeling of disappointment returning, “just to pick up some stuff, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Oh who cares about a bit of old mail, I would have just thrown it out if I were him,” she huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her line of sight.

“Isn’t that a crime?” Sam asks but the question falls on deaf ears against the wall of possibilities that Yerim is now crafting in her labyrinthine mind of reality tv plots.

“Listen,” she starts, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction and you wonder why you’re being lectured to all of a sudden. You haven’t even fully processed running into Wonwoo in the first place. You aren’t even sure you’re inhabiting a corporeal form right now. “Clearly he’s still in love with you.”

“Oh please,” you start but she shakes her head, resolute.

“Don’t fool yourself, what scorned ex-boyfriend goes out of his way to run into the love of his life in a sports bar accidentally.” She throws heavy air quotes around the word ‘accidentally’ and you just roll your eyes.

“I’m pretty sure it was just accidental,” Seulgi chimes in, the voice of reason.

“Yes, thank you, Seulgi. This is just a weird coincidence,” you sigh, spinning your glass around on its coaster.

“Or fate,” she beams and you want to laugh but the feeling dies before the sound can materialize. It feels too pathetic.

“Strange thing for fate to do, months after I’ve already broken up with him.”

“Wait, you broke up with him?” Sam asks, now invested in the drama despite all lack of knowledge surrounding the people and situations involved. You envy his ignorance.

You sigh and nod, “yes. I broke his heart and then left some reminders of it around the apartment we used to share so he’s asking me to come and take them so he doesn’t have to deal with it anymore.” Yerim opens her mouth to speak but you stop her with a glare, “it is not his way of somehow getting me back into his life, he’s just too nice to throw my stuff out without warning.”

“But what if–”

“No, there is no ‘if’. This is it. I’m going to go there, pick up my mail, say goodbye and that will be it. We’ll never have any reason to see each other again and he can move on and date someone else and I–”

I can too, you think–swallowing the words.

“I’m sorry, I’m confused,” Sam says, breaking the spell of silence that had descended on the table. “You broke up with him but…you want him back? Or he wants you back? How long have you guys been broken up?”

“I’ll explain later,” Yerim whispers.

“No, no you won’t, because I don’t think you know completely either,” you sigh, angling to face Sam but aiming the bulk of the speech right towards Yerim herself. You glance across the room briefly–a cautionary look to make sure Wonwoo isn’t in earshot.

He’s leaning up against the far wall, pool cue in hand, watching as Jihoon leans over the table to line up a shot. The old Wonwoo would have left the second he saw you here, but there he is. Standing within 15 feet of you without breaking out into a cold sweat (as far as you can tell).

Maybe he has changed, you think. He must have felt you watching him because his eyes meet yours for a split second before you tear your gaze away from him–stare burning a hole into the table next to your hands.

You sigh again, feeling like you’ve aged 10 years in the past hour. “I broke up with him because I didn’t think either of us could give the other person what they needed. It was hard, and I still,” you blink back the threat of tears as they start to form in your eyes. Whether tears of frustration or otherwise you didn’t exactly feel like crying in a bar in front of your ex-boyfriend and some random British dude. “I still love him but I’m not in love with him. I’m moving on and…so is he.” You conclude, remembering the last time you ran into him. The girl he was with. The cold shock of ice water in your veins.

“I still don’t–” Sam starts but Seulgi cuts him off, her radar detecting the potential torrential downpour of anxiety and stress that is clouding your current emotional landscape.

“It doesn’t matter,” she waves the topic away with a swing of her hand, dismissing all further comments on the matter and releasing you of the risk of overexplaining yourself once again. “What’s done is done and whatever will happen will happen and it’s not up to us to decide what the best decision is when we’re not actually involved. So, are we getting another round or should I call a taxi?”

“Ooh, I was hoping we could go get some food now actually, there’s this super cute toast place a few blocks from here that I’ve been following on Insta and I need to get a pic with their neon displays.” Yerim, whether consciously or not, pivots immediately into a spiel about the rest of her plans for her vacation. You exhale slowly, relief sinking into your bones, and mouth a ‘thank you’ to Seulgi before she gets up to pay.

You sit silent, alone with your thoughts for a moment, and trace idle patterns over the wood grain of the table; listening to Yerim ramble as she takes Sam on an Instagram-based tour of all the places she intends on dragging him to for the next few days. Seulgi returns after closing out the tab and everyone starts gathering their things to leave, Yerim excitedly narrating the toast menu as you do.

Before you step out onto the night, you chance a final look across the bar towards Wonwoo to find him in the same position he was when you last dared to look at him. His eyes, slightly obscured by his glasses, were still fixed on you and you wonder if he had looked away at all over the past few minutes. He nods once, a minute tilt of the head, barely registerable unless you were paying as close of attention as you were, and you return it in kind before falling in line behind Seulgi and turning away from him.

It’s not until the cold air hits you that you start to feel the heat of his eyes dissipate into the night.

Minghao sits across from you, glasses perched delicately at the tip of his nose. His brown eyes evaluate you in silence as you adjust your posture in the brown leather wingback chair in his office–simultaneously too aware of your body and not aware enough to find a comfortable position. You finally give up fidgeting and decide to just tuck your wayward hands under your thighs to trap them there, offering him a small apologetic smile which he does not return, but he does nod and that is something isn’t it?

It’s been years since you saw a therapist. The last one was at university, just before the start of the second term in your second year. Right at the cusp of a break up and a full blown anxiety induced existential crisis. The persistent thoughts of ‘oh god I’m ruining my life I need to drop out or change majors or move to Australia and work with the Wildlife Warriors Foundation’ had devoured every sane idea you had until you found yourself in shambles in the Students’ Union all but begging for help.

The counsellor you had seen then had listened to you ramble in near silence before printing out some worksheets on deep belly breathing and anxiety management and sent you on your merry way to figure it out for yourself. So you did, eventually (though your GPA took a bit of a hit that semester), with some help from Seulgi and a TA that had taken pity on you and two years later you were graduating with a Bachelor of Design with a Minor in Print Media and those worksheets were buried somewhere deep in the recesses of your room, unread save a cursory glance.

This time felt different.

Instead of the wildfire of desperation and despair that had propelled you into the office in University all those years ago, you had (of mostly sound mind) reached out to Minghao with a formal request for an appointment and scheduled a time to sit down. For a few days leading up to the appointment you tried to collect your thoughts, formulate a plan for what you wanted to get out of these sessions, and corral your myriad of feelings into a neat script to recite to him—carefully crafted to best convey your current dilemma and also avoid a lot of those little things you did not feel quite ready to face yet.

“So,” he starts, offering you a small smile to ease the tension that always fills the office during first appointments, “let’s start with what you’re hoping to achieve from this session, and any going forward. What are your goals?”

Despite all your careful preparation, your mind goes as white as a sheet of paper. Goals? You ponder the word. Unsure now if you’ve ever had any goals at all or if you’d just been floating along aimlessly this whole time, somehow still alive through mere circumstance.

To be less of an anxious wreck? Sure, maybe that was one. But was it a goal or just a product of your neuroses? Were you even really that anxious or did you just overthink everything too much? Is that the same thing? Did you want to tell him that?

You chastise yourself silently, steering your errant thoughts away from the cliff they always careened off of and trying to remember the lists you had scribbled down prior to this appointment.

“I think,” you start, wincing at the weakness of the verb. How unsure you must appear to him. You glance at his face briefly. It’s carefully composed–no hint of the impatience you’re sure he must be feeling. “I mean, I was hoping we would be able to work on my trust issues and um…anxieties in relationships, find out the roots of those,” you start again, following the script you had mentally prepared, “and maybe come up with some strategies to heal from past relationships and maybe make future ones…easier?”

Good, good, you breathe a sigh of relief. These were not insane things to say. You are a normal person and these are normal goals.

“Okay,” he says, “that’s a good place to start as far as an end goal.” You smile, being careful not to let it grow too big to appear too pleased at the validation. Minghao continues, “when you say ‘relationships’, I’m assuming you are meaning mostly romantic relationships, correct?”

You fool, how could you forget to clarify that!

You feel a rush of mild panic swell up in your esophagus but you stave it off. You nod, clearing your throat, “yes, romantic relationships, exactly.”

“They all tend to overlap in a lot of ways but I just want to make sure we’re on the same page,” he smiles again, that same soft smile, and you worry he noticed you were starting to panic. “Why don’t you tell me about your last relationship?”

An open-ended question, okay okay. We were prepared for this, you coach yourself in silence, flipping through the mental pages of notes. Thankfully this one was easy. You had turned the problem of ‘me and Wonwoo’ in your mind over and over like a rotisserie chicken. You knew it inside and out. Every juicy morsel, every dry bone.

“We were together for three, almost four, years before we broke up, lived together for two. We met through mutual friends at a party and just…it was just us from there. Me and Wonwoo, Wonwoo and I, always together in the same sentence and the same places. It was a good relationship, but I just…I don’t know if we were compatible, really.”

“Well, you were together for 3 years, it’s hard to spend that much time with someone you’re entirely incompatible with,” Minghao interjects and you grimace in spite of yourself. “Is there anything specific that makes you feel like that was the case?”

“Specific…” you hum the word out loud. Despite all of the sleepless nights spent wondering this exact same thing alone, you were having a hard time summoning up any examples. “No, nothing…I don’t know,” you feel your house of cards start to lose its balance, the cracks begin to show.

“Let’s reframe, then,” Minghao suggests, noting the distress beginning to creep into your voice. “What attracted you to him in the first place? What made you think ‘yeah, I do want to date this guy’?”

“He was hot,” you shrug then when Minghao doesn’t laugh at the flippant comment, you backpedal. Embarrassment creeping in at the edges. Clearly your tactic of deflecting with humour had no power here. “I mean, obviously I was physically attracted to him, and since we met at a party that was sort of initially the only thing I cared about. But as I got to know him I think he was just…different.”

“Different in what way? From your usual type?”

“Yeah,” you nod, extending the hands of your memory into the past. Trying to grasp at the Wonwoo you fell in love with in the first place. “He was quiet, and he listened–listens really well. He’s smart, too. Could have been a doctor or professor but he said the amount of school needed for that wasn’t worth it. Which I guess I sort of agree with, it was just a shame.”

You glance at Minghao, who is still watching you from under the rim of his wire-frame glasses. You wonder briefly how he and Mingyu met. Whether or not it had been a good idea to book in with a therapist that was a good friend of your roommate/budding romantic interest. He wouldn’t tell him any of this…would he?

Minghao’s expression betrays no answer to these questions, just a silent cue for you to continue.

You sigh, releasing the thoughts, and do so, “before him, I had always dated really active guys. Guys that liked to be the life of the party, that always had something to say and never second guessed themselves. I was attracted to that confidence. I thought it was nice to be with someone brash and loud. It made me feel less alone in my own loudness and chaos. They never lasted, but they were always fun. Everything was so exciting and I was never bored. Even when it was bad it felt…dramatic. Like a movie. And it was college so I didn’t really ever feel like I had to sit down and ponder why the relationships didn’t last, only that they didn’t. We fought too much, partied too often, the whole relationship was just some drunk fling, whatever. It didn’t matter.”

“But Wonwoo was so…not any of that. He would come out to parties if I asked him to, but he usually spent them in the corner talking about books or petting a cat or following me around. He always wanted to leave early. He was always so eager to be at home.”

“And you weren’t?” Minghao asks and you barely register the question before you’re hurrying along to answer it.

“No, yes. I don’t know. At first I found it quite sweet–like he just wanted to spend a lot of alone time with me. And it was so novel and different that I never stopped to think it might be something I didn’t like.”

“At first?” Minghao clarifies and you nod.

“After a little while, I started to feel like I was forcing him to go out when he didn’t want to. I was being the overbearing, annoying girlfriend dragging him to these parties against his will. So I stopped going to a lot of them, and the ones that I did go to I said I could just go alone.”

“Did you ever ask him whether he felt the same way?” The question brings your thought train to a dead stop. Minghao can see the confusion twisting your brows so he continues, “you stopped going to parties because you thought you were being annoying by dragging him along but did you ever ask if he felt like he was being burdened by these outings?”

“No, I just…he never…he didn’t look like he was having a good time,” you flounder for an explanation, trying to remember what it was that had brought you to this conclusion in the first place. Had you ever talked to him about it? Were you just making all of this up?

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, maybe he really didn’t enjoy them. From what you’re telling me, he definitely does seem like more of a homebody,” he says, but you take little comfort in the words. “I am wondering, though, what brought you to this assumption without him mentioning anything about it. Did he ever say that he didn’t want to go? Or that he wished you wouldn’t?”

“I don’t…I can’t remember…” you say slowly, mind fogging up. A cloud of confusion overcrowding your thoughts.

“That’s okay,” he says but you do not feel like it is okay, actually. Had you ruined everything years ago without even realising? Was scheduling this appointment a mistake? “I don’t want you to overanalyze the specifics, those are often the least important part especially when something is in the past. We can’t change those things, only learn from them. It’s just helpful to know whether or not these trust issues have manifested more internally or because of external situations. To find out where they tend to stem from.”

You nod, the clock on the wall ticks as your thoughts wind through time. You want, so desperately, for there to be some solid memory to tie this all back to. Something from your past or your childhood to point to and say ‘look, there it is!’ A magical moment to blame all your issues on so that you can be born from this session a new person. But sadly nothing was ever that simple, and you couldn’t ever remember not being this way. Were you just…like this? Some untenable part of you broken at birth, barring you from ever developing a healthy, functioning relationship without feeling like you’re sacrificing some integral part of yourself while you do so? Or without feeling like it was all some illusion bound to disperse into smoke and mirrors with the snap of someone’s fingers?

“What are you thinking?” Minghao asks, clearly taking note of the darkening of your expression. The tension creeping into your brow. You don’t want to tell him. Don’t want the confirmation of being beyond help.

Or maybe that’s not it. Maybe it’s the opposite that you’re afraid of. That this image of self as someone floundering through life with all these worries and struggles, someone broken beyond measure, has just been that–an image. Something you made up to keep yourself safe somewhere along the way and really you could just change it all if you felt like that. If you threw off your cape of comfort and accepted the help you’ve so long denied.

“I just,” you start, rubbing at a sore spot developing on your temple. You try to push through the sudden urge to bolt out of his office right now and not look back. “I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid but I feel like I fucked everythig up. Like it’s my fault, and maybe if I could have just talked to him or trusted that he lo–loved me despite our differences…maybe everything would have been okay.” The distinct prickling of tears starts to burn behind your eyes but you blink them away, not willing to give into them so easily.

“Maybe,” he starts and you feel a pang of icy shock at the acceptance of this self-blame. You had expected the same pity and denial you get from Seulgi. You keep your gaze fixed on a small scuff on the top of his nice brown leather shoe, unable to meet his eyes as he continues. “Maybe if you had been able to accept that you are worthy of love from someone, regardless of your perceived flaws, or if you had been able to communicate more openly to be able to meet both of your needs within the relationship, maybe things would have been different.”

He pauses, whether for dramatic effect or to let you process what he’s saying, you’re not sure. You suspect the latter, but considering he’s a friend of Mingyu’s you can’t be completely certain.

“Maybe, or maybe not. Maybe even if you had done everything perfectly and nothing had ever gone wrong you still would have broken up. A break up is not a failure–not of the relationship and not of the individuals within it. There is always the chance that you had just outgrown each other without either of you fully realising it, and that’s okay. We don’t examine our past to further deepen self-blame and pity, we do it so we can learn what we need from them and accept these lessons so we can carry them forward into our future. And that doesn’t mean that we won’t have more break ups or more perceived failures, it just hopefully means we will be able to accept them as part of the process instead of a barrier to it.”

The speech slots itself into your brain, wiggling between long believed ideas and perspectives that had lived in there for years. Forcing its way in between them all. You feel it nestle in, planting its seeds until you can fully appreciate the thoughts he’s offering you. For now, you try to just fend off the part of you that resists everything he’s saying and listen to the (slightly quieter) part that knows you need to hear it.

“Do you–” you start, pausing to clear your throat of the lump that had built up while he spoke. “Do you think I will be able to get to…to that point?”

“Yes,” he nods, decisive. “How long it takes, though, will depend entirely on how willing you are to change. The fact that you’re here meeting with me shows you are at least ready, in part, to begin the process of releasing these old thought patterns. But there is no magic pill, and it takes time and effort. I am here to help, but ultimately it’s only you that can make this change.”

“And if I can’t change?”

“You can,” he says, shutting down the doubt immediately, “if you choose to.” Sensing your next question he continues, “and if you don’t then you continue life as you are and it changes you. The self is an adaptive state–always transforming. With or without my help or your conscious effort, change will happen. It’s just smoother a lot of the time if you can work with it instead of waiting for it to happen to you.”

“This is really too much, Mingyu.”

A plume of steam bursts out of the pot on the stovetop as Mingyu lifts the lid off to taste the sauce. He rears his head back to avoid the heat but still plunges his spoon-wielding hand into the steamy abyss to stir at the bottom of the liquid.

You watch, leaning against the counter behind him, in a state of concerned bemusement as he takes a few minutes to adjust the heat on his various pots and pans.

“What do you mean?” he asks, turning around and mopping the sweat off his brow with the dish towel he had draped over his shoulder. A few stray rivulets of steam trace their way down his neck and disappear into the collar of shirt. You try (unsuccessfully) to avoid thinking about the sheen on his skin as it glints in the light of the kitchen.

“All this,” you gesture vaguely to the arranged on the table, the splatters of food on his well-worn “Kiss The Cook” apron (a gag gift from Jeonghan, apparently). ”I figured we would just…I don’t know, order some fried chicken or something,” you explain but his expression remains puzzled. “You know, just casual. It’s just Seulgi.”

“Does she not like Italian?” he asks, a look of mild panic starting to etch into the corners of his eyes. “I knew I should have asked but I thought Italian would be the safest, most people like pasta but if she doesn’t–”

“No, no,” you cut him off before he can spiral further, “she likes Italian food, I’m pretty sure it’s one of her favourites actually, but I mean like…it’s just Seulgi.”

“But she’s your friend,” he states the fact like it should explain the fresh baked focaccia cooling on the counter behind him or the ludacris wine bill you got a look at earlier in the day. “Do you not like Italian food? If you really want fried chicken we can order some.”

One of the pot lids sputters with the force of steam it’s holding back and you choke back a laugh as Mingyu whips around to stir it back into submission.

“No, no, I love pasta I–” you pause, words dangling on the precipice of your lips, ready to say more, but you think better of it, remembering what Minghao had said at the end of your session about controlling outcomes. “Thank you for doing all this, I’m sure she’ll love it.”

He grins wide, relieved, and you pack away your lingering worries before leaving him to battle the remains of dinner alone.

The living room has transformed over the space of a few hours–soft lighting and soft blankets adorn the area and you’re greeted by the faint scent of grapefruit as Vernon moves around the room lighting a series of candles.

“Are we proposing to her?” you ask, taken aback by the effort put forth by all of your roommates.

“Do you think she’d say yes?” Vernon quips, turning around with a half-smile, and you roll your eyes.

When you had told them you were thinking of inviting Seulgi over for dinner (ostensibly to meet everyone, but more so to have a night with her where you didn’t have to bother leaving the comfort of your own home) they had reacted…minimally. Mingyu seemed excited at the prospect of hosting a dinner party and apparently had run wild with the power of doing so, but you didn’t think the other three had much cared beyond a vague curiosity about your friend. But even Jeonghan, who already knew Seulgi well, had gone to the trouble of purchasing flowers to liven up the living space.

“I just don’t know why everyone is treating this like we’re having an idol over or something,” you shake your head, flopping down on the couch and letting your head fall back against the cushion.

“Well,” Vernon says, taking a seat next to you, “to be honest, it’s mostly Mingyu that insisted on all of it.”

“Why?” Curiosity bubbles up and you take a cursory glance back towards the kitchen where Mingyu is still standing, glistening over the stove top as he maneuvers various dishes and pots around. You knew he was prone to overdoing things like this if your first big meal with the household was anything to judge from, but why would he bother to go to such lengths just to impress your friend that honestly would have been more than happy with a plate of fried chicken and a cold beer.

Vernon just shrugs before pushing himself off the couch into a full body stretch. “Well,” he says, “you know Mingyu.”

I guess I do, you think, curiosity unsatisfied by the lack of answers. You know Jeonghan might give you more insight but whether it was truthful or if you wanted to bear the brunt of his scrutiny for even asking was another question. Instead, you try to just let it go and text Seulgi an inquiry into her ETA while you listen to the clamour of dishes in the kitchen as Mingyu finishes assembling his feast.

Fifteen minutes and three introductions later, you’re all seated around the candlelit table passing around a dish of tajarin al tartufo.

“Where did you even get white truffles at this time of year?” Seulgi asks, sipping gingerly from her glass of Chardonnay (specially chosen for the occasion).

“I know some people in the industry,” Mingyu replies, tone casual–you can still see the glimmer of pride shimmering his eyes in the dim lighting however.

“Oh, do you work in the culinary sector?”

“No, not at all,” he shakes his head, “but I did a bit during school so I kept in touch with some people that way. Plus some of the people I graduated with ended up in the acquisitions side of the restaurant business.”

“Well,” she nods, setting down her glass, “I’m surprised honestly, this is like restaurant quality food. I wouldn’t have been shocked if you told me you were a chef.”

Mingyu brushes off the compliment with another laugh, but his smile again betrays how pleased he is by the validation. “It’s just a hobby, really. I like cooking for people.”

“And we’re happy to benefit from it,” Jeonghan chimes in, “we’d surely be starving if it wasn’t for our private cook.”

“Hey, I can cook,” Seungcheol grumbles, reaching for another slice of focaccia.

Jeonghan pats his arm with a solemn nod, acknowledging his skillset. “You’d get by fine, but these other two?” he gestures vaguely in yours and Vernon’s directions with a shake of his head, “hopeless.”

“Who needs to cook in this golden age of delivery?” Vernon asks, and you nod your agreement.

“Someone on a broke actor’s wage, maybe.”

“Touché,” Vernon shrugs, uninterested in defending himself further. “Won’t be broke much longer though, I booked a gig for next week so get ready for riches beyond our wildest imaginations.”

“Oh congratulations, what’s this one? Another commercial for a dog grooming spa?”

“Nope,” Vernon says, brushing off the light dig at his resume, “a bit part in a drama on KBS. I’ve got a name and a line and everything.”

“Riches beyond our wildest imaginations, hey?” Mingyu jokes, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what your imagination is like. It does pay though,” he shrugs, content to inhale another forkful of pasta.

“That’s actually great, Vernon,” you say, diverting the round of teasing towards something more supportive. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he replies, casual as always, “it's something at least. Saves me from having to go work retail for a bit anyway.”

“Well, if you do need a job at any point after this my cafe is hiring, I just had to fire my last guy,” Seulgi says, setting her fork down at the side of her plate.

“What happened this time?” you ask. You’ve been out of the loop of cafe drama for far too long. You were having trouble remembering if this was the same guy as the one that kept mixing up decaf and blonde roast.

“He got in a fist fight with a customer.”

“What? Like…at work?”

“Yeah,” she replies, dabbing at her mouth with the edge of a napkin. “To be fair the customer he beat up was sleeping with his girlfriend and he hadn’t exactly expected to see him there after finding out but still…it looks bad on me if I let it slide.”

“Still working at the cafe?” Jeonghan asks, “what happened to the start up?”

Seulgi grimaces and you can feel the annoyance seeping through her pores at the mention of her old job, the bitterness from the whole fiasco still running deep in her veins. “It went tits up, and turns out the CEO was embezzling money from the company so there weren’t even any severance packages. Haven’t been able to find anything since then, it’s a nightmare.”

“You work in tech?” Mingyu asks, leaning over to refill Seulgi and your wine glasses, finishing off the last of the bottle.

“Software development,” she replies with a nod of thanks for the wine.

“I might know someone hiring for Samsung, I could ask around for you if you want?” he offers, sitting back down in his chair across from you.

“You know someone that works at Samsung?” she balks and you watch her expression shift to open excitement at the possibility.

“I do,” he nods, “he was a nepotism hire, honestly, his dad is head of logistics but he owes me a huge favour so I could ask.”

“Mingyu,” she says, eyes narrowed to fine points as she stares at him from across the table, “I will give you my first born child in payment.”

“Oh, uh–” he laughs, a tinge of colour reddening the tips of his ears. “It’s no big deal, really. Just happy to help a friend.”

His eyes flicker towards yours in the candlelight and you offer him a soft smile of approval. The look does not go unnoticed by Jeonghan, a slow, sly grin spreading over his features as he drains the last of his wine. Conversation drifts, continuing to flow throughout the hour, as time melts away with the candle wax dripping onto the table cloth.

Once the food is polished off the group moves into the living room to play some games and to no one’s surprise, Seungcheol ends up winning most of the rounds of Jenga through sheer intimidation alone. Seulgi, however, does manage to best him at Uno which immediately results in a half-pouted plea for a one-on-one rematch. Vernon excuses himself to head to bed early for an audition in the morning and Jeonghan lingers behind to watch the match, betting on Seunghceol’s downfall much to the man’s chagrin.

You stay for a minute, watching the cards fly across the table with a vengeance, before your attention shifts to the sounds of running water and clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen. Mingyu took the revenge match as an opportunity to clean up from dinner and a pang of guilt bounds through you at the thought of him doing both the cooking and cleaning for the night entirely alone.

“Do you want a hand?” He’s hunched over the sink as you enter the kitchen and walk towards him–tall frame bending to accommodate the height of the counter, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on a pot.

“You don’t have to,” he replies, glancing over his shoulder, “I can handle it.”

“Mingyu, you already cooked for everyone, the least you can do is let me dry them or something.”

He evaluates you for a moment, confirming that your offer isn’t born purely from pity, before nodding, “alright, these pots are clean already if you want to start there.”

You nod and grab a clean tea towel from the drawer next to the stove, moving to stand hip to hip with him at the sink. You work in companionable silence, nothing but the squeak of soap on porcelain and the distant complaints of Seungcheol as Seulgi hits him with another pick up 4 card.

You had never hosted any gatherings at your apartment with Wonwoo. Not that it was ever something he said he didn’t want, it just never came up. He tended to use his home as a retreat from the world and while you loved a good get together, you weren’t much of a host yourself, preferring instead to just join in when invited. Tonight was your first real, adult dinner party and while you hadn’t actually been much of an active participant in the planning of said party, it still felt like you had some ownership over it.

Now, standing here in tandem with Mingyu, cleaning up while your guest and other roommates were occupied with each other, you had to admit that there was something so comfortably domestic about the whole thing. You were surprised at how natural it felt, and you knew that if you let your mind amble down the path of no return, you would find yourself in this same position over and over again in your imagination. Scrubbing pots next to the man that had just fed you and your friends pasta.

“Did you have a good time?” Mingyu asks, sensing your thoughts and cutting them off at the head before they can get the best of you again.

You pick up the last pot in the stack, letting your hands continue working as you nod, a soft smile gracing your lips, “I did, yeah. It was really nice.”

“Good,” he sighs, letting a soft laugh out with his breath, “I’m glad. Wasn’t too much in the end, then?”

“No,” you reply, soothing the hint of insecurity in his question. “It was perfect. Sounds like Seulgi had a good time as well.”

“That’s a relief,” he says, dipping his hands back into the sink to finish wiping off the last few plates.

“Were you worried she wouldn’t?” you laugh, slightly incredulous at the lack of confidence coming from a man who just cooked you a Michelin star worthy dinner.

“No, I just,” he laughs again, hesitation creeping back into his voice. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

“I don’t think you could have made a bad one,” you mumble, wiping your hands off on the tea towel before hanging it on the cupboard hook to dry out.

“Well, that’s good,” Mingyu says, angling his body towards yours after pulling the plug in the sink drain, “because I…” he pauses, hesitant. You turn to face him, watching as he tugs the hot pink kitchen gloves off his hands and sets them down at the side of the sink. A faint blush is spreading out over his cheeks and for a second you wonder if he might not be feeling well.

“Mingyu–” you start–unsure whether to inquire about his well being or just to prompt him to continue. He raises his gaze to meet yours and you get the distinct feeling that he just made some sort of decision, come to some resolution within himself.

“Listen, I…” he starts and you maintain his gaze, heart picking up pace in your chest as your thoughts fly at a mile a minute trying to guess what he’s about to say. “I’m sorry if this is too forward or something, but the whole reason I went to all of this trouble tonight was for you.”

“Me?”

“I like you,” he blurts the words out without ceremony, stumbling over them as they tumble from his mouth. You stand still, a few feet away from him, in shock as the laughter from the living room fades to a distant murmur. “I think you’re beautiful, and funny, and smart and I would like to get to know you more and I know you’re still getting over a break up so I’m not trying to…pressure you or anything. And I know that maybe this is super awkward given that we live together and everything, but I just needed to tell you before I start to feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Oh.” It’s the only word you can manage. You feel like your brain is stuck on a loading screen as your mouth frantically tries to hit refresh. Nothing happens. You’ve lost connection.

“And if you don’t feel the same now, or ever, that’s okay. But I just needed to tell you that,” he sighs, “that I like you. And I’m very interested in you, and I get the feeling that you are also interested in me but if I’m wrong or it’s too soon then that’s okay. I can wait. Or not. Up to you. But…I like you.”

“I, umm…” You try. Try to form a coherent thought or sentence but nothing comes to you. Internally, you’re screaming at yourself. Isn’t this what you wanted? Haven’t you been pining after this man since you moved in here? What’s the hold up now?

All these questions, self chastisements, and more come spilling forward in your brain. A flood of confusion clouding all your judgement as you stand frozen in the middle of the kitchen in front of a man that is still waiting for you to reply to him. A man that has just laid all his cards out on the table for you to see. No tricks, no reversals, just ‘I like you’ in plain language. No guesswork. And still, all of your fears and worries and anxieties overwhelm you anyway.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” he says, finally, giving up on waiting for your brain to kick in. “But, if you do…feel the same…you know where to find me. And if not then,” he laughs, attempting to clear away some of the awkwardness lingering in the air as a result of your inability to speak, “then I hope we can still be friends and I haven’t…made this too weird or anything.”

A loud uproar booms out from the living room–Jeonghan’s victorious laughter accompanied by Seungcheol’s cries of devastation. Another win for Seulgi. Mingyu glances behind you towards the sound before smiling and brushing past you, leaving you to pick up your jaw from the tile floor.

“I really have to go now,” you hear Seulgi say–closer behind you now as the games draw to a close. You snap to attention, shaking off your temporary paralysis, and turn to rejoin the group feeling like an entirely different person than when you had left them barely 30 minutes ago.

“One more game, all or nothing,” Seungcheol urges, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t think you can afford to lose another one,” she says with a smile, “and I really need to get back home, I’m opening in the morning. Thank you for the dinner, Mingyu, it was great. And I look forward to hearing from you friend.”

“Of course,” he replies, the picture of a good host. He hands her her coat from the hallway closet before wishing her a good night and disappearing towards his bedroom. After some prompting Jeonghan and Seungcheol follow suit.

Seulgi turns to you with a smile, but it falls from her face the second she sees the slightly dumbfounded expression still plastered on your own. “Are you ok?”

“M-me? Yeah, fine, I just…” you pause, wavering on the option of telling her what just happened but the second you get close to the confession you stall. You don’t want to. Not yet. Not until you’ve reckoned with it on your own. “I think I’m just coming down with a cold.”

“You have a terrible immune system,” she says, shaking her head. “Well, good night then. Call me tomorrow, hopefully you feel better after some rest.”

“I will, I will,” you nod, opening the door for her as she slips into her shoes. “Text me when you get home.”

She waves a final goodbye and you watch her walk towards the elevator before closing the door and twisting the lock. With a sigh you lean against the solid wood, grateful for the support as you continue to try to regather your wits. Mingyu’s confession replays, over and over like a highlight reel in your mind.

This is a good thing, isn’t it?

―AUTHOR’S NOTE: i cant link them here, but please find the series masterlist and other chapters on my blog. i would love to know your thoughts on the story so far !

#caratlibrary #svthub #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #chm updates

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samkerrworshipper · 1 year

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Medication - Leah Williamson

fluff, little bit of angst, anxiety attacks, mentions of depression, 3500 words

balled my eyes out to black fridays by tom odell and then this was birthed.

blurb:

your a rookie on the lionesses squad, who suffers from anxiety and when you stop taking your meds after learning you are starting a game in the euros everything goes downhill for you.

i am so sorry for how vague this was lol i’m writing this and publishing at 2:30 in the morning

I’d never liked gamedays. Everything felt different, all the feelings and emotions heightened. The pressure was insurmountable, especially when you are playing for your nation. Especially when you are one of the youngest, one of the least experienced, one of the youngsters. Today, we were playing Norway, my first game as a Lioness where I was a part of the starting line-up. It was a must win game, the stakes were high for us to win these Euro’s, especially considering it was a home euro’s for us. If we wanted to progress to the finals we couldn’t lose, the pressure was on.

I’d understood that as soon as I’d been notified that I was to start the match, understood that everything changed as soon as you were actually on the pitch. Our one point win over Austria had been great, but we were all hungrier for more, hungrier for the points that we needed to get us ahead in the competition. Sarina knew that there was an expectation for us to win, we all knew that.

I’d been feeling it all week, feeling the anxiety thrumming through my veins as we practised and went about our normal routine for the week. Something was different, it was my first year as a senior Lioness and I’d never been named as a starter. That was a big deal, a really big deal. That was all I could think about. What if I fucked it up? What if I messed up and they told me that I wasn’t going to be welcome back. What if Sarina saw me on the pitch and thought that I was worthless, useless, bad. That was all I could think about as we were standing in the tunnel getting ready to walk out. I was sandwiched in between Lucy and Beth. My hands shaking in my pockets and my breath quickening subconsciously. If I wasn’t aware of it then apparently the defender behind me was, because just as we were about to walk out I felt one of her hands fall to my shoulder, pulling me back into her just enough for her to be able to press her mouth to my ear and whisper,

“You’ve got this amore, you’re going to do perfectly fine,” Lucy’s voice was so strong, but so comforting. She was like an older sister to me, and had been since my first day at training camp. She had been the first person to believe in me besides my Arsenal teammates, the first person to really advocate for my future. She was also the first person on the Lionesses team besides Leah to learn about my struggles with anxiety, adhd and depression. She’d been a light in my life, texted me to make sure I was keeping up with my medication, or just to check in.

In the wake of the Euro’s I’d stopped taking my anxiety meds. I took Lorazepam, which worked really well for me, but it also tended to make me really drowsy and fatigued. Things that are not ideal when you are training and playing almost everyday for your country. It had positive effects, I definitely found it a lot easier to train and play my hardest, but there were a lot of negatives. Like how I was feeling right now. Like my heart was going to beat out of my chest, my hands getting clammy with sweat and shaking non stop like I’d just shot up on steroids. The sound of the crowd at Brighton didn’t help either as we walked out onto the pitch. I struggled to get through the national anthem and the pre game pleasantries, my chest and body hurting from the anxiety that was building up inside of my body.

I was grateful but also not to step out on the pitch properly. It felt like I was on a different planet, my senses overly heightened and my brain short circuiting almost everything.

I could feel Leah’s gaze on me as we all lined up to start the game, she worried about me, a lot. I was also her Arsenal teammate and she’d taken me under her wing beyond football, we’d become very close in our time spent together. I ignored her sidewards glances though, tasking myself with showing our nation that I deserved to be where I was and some jitters weren’t going to affect that.

My first half was rocky, normally with the mixture of adrenaline and endorphins my anxiety subsided when I started playing but this time I must have been too far gone, too much pent up anxiety built up for it to just fade away. It reflected in how I was playing, but our forwards had been flawless, slotting in six goals which put us in a lead that was pretty much untouchable. Clambering into the rooms at halftime was a charade. Everyone besides myself seemed ecstatic and hyped about our lead, I was on the inside but I was also wrapped up in my own bubble. I took a seat on the floor of the change rooms, taking in Serena’s speech about keeping our heads and just continuing what we were doing. I allowed Lucy to pass me a drink bottle, obliging her request for me to hydrate myself. She could tell something was up, she’d been hovering around me on the pitch, covering me. When one of the Norwegian girls had taken my feet out from under me she had immediately been at my side, pulling me up and then yelling at the umpire about how it had clearly been a foul if not a yellow. Leah had to pull her away just to ensure Lucy wouldn’t get carded herself, all whilst I stood there absolutely helpless as result of the amount of effort I was having to put into not collapsing from the amount of pain in my chest.

Leah kept it pretty brief after Serena, sticking to what she’d said and putting an emphasis on a few things before we headed back out. She managed to snag a grip on my jersey though as I trailed with the girls at the back of the group.

“Are you okay?” There was a little bit of captain in it, but it was mostly gentle, her voice a little bit rugged from the amount of yelling she’d done on the field.

“I’m fine.” Her facial expression was enough to tell me she didn’t believe a word I was saying.

“I’m telling Serena to sub you off, you clearly don’t look well enough to be playing.”

“I told you I feel fine Cap, I can play out the rest of the 90, please let me play it out.”

Leah looked conflicted, conflicted with what to do and how to react to my plea. I wasn’t one who begged very often, I didn’t see the point in it.

“Fine but y/n, as soon as anything happens out there, you put yourself in danger or someone else in danger you are going off, understood?”

I didn’t have any other option but to nod at Leah.

“Yes, captain.”

My voice had held some sarcasm as I tore her hand from the bottom of my jersey and started jogging back up the tunnel to catch up with girls that I’d previously been chatting to.

The last ten minutes of the second half was when bad transitioned to really not good. My body began to catch up with my over exertion and every second on the field became a battle. It was a blessing that the ball wasn’t really travelling down my end, Less and Toony had both been substituted in and were having a field day in our forward half kicking it back and forth to run the clock down. The Norwegian girls were giving it their best but you could tell they knew it was over. As the minutes passed though and we went into extra time I could feel my body really starting to get heavier, you could blame it on the lack of hydration and the english heat that we were playing in but I knew it was my body betraying me. I’d been denying my body for too long and it was catching up with me. I didn’t even know how many minutes of extra time we had, my vision was slowly blurring, my steps becoming wobbly and the pain in my chest becoming overbearing.

I could hear my opponent, I think it was Maren, or was it Guro? Asking me if I felt alright. I didn’t really comprehend it though, I couldn’t hear anything properly, it felt like I was underwater, my ears ringing out and my vision blacking over as I fell face first into the turf. Maren managed to catch me before I fully face planted into the grass, helping my limp form down to the ground before starting to yell out for help. It was then of course that the whistles blew and the match ended. I could make out the sounds of the crowd going nuts, maybe even my teammates on the sidelines yelling in triumph. I couldn’t open my eyes though and I definitely couldn’t make out the voice of Maren on the ground beside me trying to ask me questions and attract the attention of a medic. It was all mellowed out as my body succumbed to a coma like state that I’d forced myself into.

Leah and Lucy were the first two from my own team to locate me, passed out on the ground with Maren trying to provide as much privacy for me as possible whilst also pressing her hand to my throat to make sure that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong. It was Maren, Guro had been subbed off at the 84’ minute mark. I remembered that because I’d silently been wishing at the time that Serena would do the same, but she’d made her final changes and taking me off apparently hadn't been one of them.

“Y/n, can you open your eyes for me? Or squeeze my hand?”

I could feel Leah’s own hand fall into mine and I squeezed it as best as I could, it was enough for me to tell her that I was conscious enough to make out what she was saying to me.

“Good y/n/n, the medics are about to be here, can you try and open your eyes and talk for me?”

I tried my hardest to crack my eyes open, when I did finally muster up the will to open one of them I was met with the brightness of the stadium lights. I groaned almost immediately, being forced to take in my surroundings. I was surrounded by our trainers, who were draping different towels over my body in an attempt to cool me down and cover me. My cleats had been removed from my feet and someone was soaking my socks in cold water, something that I was not pleased to be awakened by.

“Good sweetheart, stay focused on me yeah, eyes on me.”

My eyes snapped back up to Leah, who was crouched above my head, Serena and Lucy’s heads were beside her own, staring down at me.

“The medics are going to come look at you and you are going to let them, okay?”

I almost immediately shook my head at Leah but she kept her jaw clenched and her stern face up.

“I’m not asking y/n, you just passed out on the field, you need to be assessed.”

I shook my head again and Leah rolled her eyes at me.

“An-n-xiety.”

I could hardly make out my own words in the stadium full of noise and the words themselves made me realise how much I was struggling to regulate my own breaths.

Leah nodded knowingly, suddenly everything seemed to come into perspective for her.

“You stopped taking your medication, didn’t you?”

I gulped and nodded at her, trying to block out all of the distractions that were happening around me. She looked annoyed at me, I cowered a little bit with the glare that she was giving me. After the last time I went on a sabbatical from my medication I swore to Leah I would never do it again.

As the medics crouched down next to me I shut my eyes again, it all becoming too much for my head. I let the medics fuss over me, I blacked out somewhere in between them putting me on a stretcher and getting me off the pitch.

I reawakened with sweat dripping down my body, all of the oxygen depleting from my body and my chest aching like it never had before. I choked a little bit as I sat up from my spot, gasping for air to enter my lungs. It took me a few seconds to recognise where I was, sitting inside the makeshift medical room at Brighton. My head was pounding and my whole body was aching.

“Y/n, look at me, you're having an anxiety attack, deep breaths.”

“Wh-what.” The words came out in a gasp as I struggled to take in any air, looking at Leah for guidance.

“We’re at Brighton, we just played Norway, you had an anxiety episode on the pitch. You’re having an attack right now, I need you to take deep breaths, follow me, in and out.”

I watched Leah as she exaggerated some deep breaths, if it hadn't been for the circumstance I probably would have laughed at her.

As I slowly started to take in more air she tried a different tactic.

“Good y/n/n, your doing so well my good girl. Can you tell me five things you can see?”

It was deflection, something that Leah had picked up on from her therapist.

“Serena, you, the light, Lucy and a drink bottle.”

Leah nodded at me encouragingly, rubbing slowly up my back as she continued.

“Good, you’re doing so well, how about four things you can feel?”

“Your breath, the scratchy blanket, my wet socks and I don’t know.”

My words were still choken as I used up whatever oxygen I was taking in to get the words out.

“That’s okay, that’s good, you are doing so well for me angel, how about three things you can hear?”

I tried to focus fully on Leah, on her words, her rubbing my back, her breath against my neck.

“Serena tapping her shoe, the heart monitor and the music from the changeroom.”

It was faint but if you focused in enough you could just hear the sound of my teammates in the change rooms, getting up to god knows that with the absence of their captain and manager.

“Perfect, you are doing absolutely perfectly. How about two things you can smell?”

“Antiseptic and your perfume.”

“Good, last one, one thing you can taste.”

I could feel my breath and body evening itself out, it felt like I was a piece of linen that was slowly but surely being ironed out, all of the crinkles and creases leaving my body.

“I don’t know.”

“Last one y/n, I know you can do it.”

“Metal, the iron taste from blood.”

Leah nodded at me, plastering a kiss on my forehead. Her words and actions being enough to bring me back down to earth fully. I very slowly took in my surroundings properly, Serena, Lucy and Keira were all sitting at the end of my bed, watching as Leah did her thing. I was hooked up to a few different things, cords and wires poking out of my extremities. A saline drip, heart monitor and another machine that I wasn’t sure the purpose of.

“Hey my girl, you back here with us now?”

I pushed my head into Leah’s chest, trying to hide from the world that I was now a participating member of.

“No hiding, not here,”

I groaned as Leah pushed me out of her chest, annoyed by the loss of contact and the confrontation of having to be put in front of some of the people I respected most.

“You gave us a fright back there, I think you came close to killing Maren.”

I gulped nervously, hanging onto every word that left Serena’s mouth, just bobbing my head in agreement because what else was I supposed to do.

“M’ sorry, didn’t mean to, just wanted to prove that I deserved to be here.”

Serena’s face held a kind of understanding, like she’d seen girls before me who had been the same, willing to die to prove their worth to the dutchwoman who we all regarded so highly.

“You wouldn’t be here in the first place if you didn’t deserve to be. It’s one thing to push yourself but to the point where you black out on the field is another thing. If it ever happens again y/n y/l/n then I can swear to you now that you will be benched, am I understood.” I nodded meekly at Serena,

“Yes ma’am.”

She nodded at me, she’d gotten her point across.

“Leah tells me this happened as a result of you not taking your medication?”

I pushed my head back into Leah’s chest, grunting at her when she pushed me out of it. I couldn’t do much else but nod at Serena.

“I get side effects ma’am, it makes me drowsy and sleepy, I didn’t want it to affect my game.”

Serena was very quick to fire back at me,

“You take medication to ensure that you feel well, there is no shame in that. If you are having a problem with side effects then you are to bring it up with one of our doctors, not boycott your medication entirely. From now on I am going to be responsible for your medication, you will come to me everyday to take it so I can ensure that you are receiving the correct doses so something like this does not occur again, is that understood?”

I gulped and nodded at Serena. She smiled at me knowingly in return.

“You are an elite athlete y/n, it is imperative that you care for your body. Or something like this happens, something with such magnitude that it can’t be overlooked. Your health and wellbeing comes first, always.”

I nodded at Serena once again, allowing her to give me a hug before leaving the room to give us some privacy. As soon as the door closed behind her I shed a few tears, I hated confrontation, it was one of my biggest fears.

“She’s right y’know, this could have been a lot worse, what if you’d put yourself in a really dangerous position because you were in a bad headspace and ended up seriously injured, you can’t just stop taking your medication randomly y/n, it’s not safe.”

Leah’s voice was murmured against my forehead, her lips staying plastered to the oily and cold skin.

“No one else on the team relies on medication to function, I thought I would be fine, I feel so stupid always being the one having to rely on shit to get through the day.”

I could feel Leah rolling her eyes from above me.

“No one else on the team struggles with intense anxiety and depression like you do, we are all different, we all function differently. There is no shame in needing medication y/n/n, Lucy uses an asthma puffer, does that make her stupid?”

I looked over at Lucy, it was different.

“No but it’s different.”

“How?”

Leah’s answer was fired back at me and I struggled slightly to recover from her sudden reply,

“Lucy has a physical problem, mine’s just in my head.”

“What you went through today seemed pretty physical to me.”

I was stumped by that answer, looking across at Kiera and Lucy who nodded along with what Leah was saying.

“You struggle with your mental health, there is no shame in that. You rely on medication. So what? Good for you for listening to your body and acknowledging that you need that to help you make it through the day. Y/n, there is absolutely nothing wrong with using medication to help you. If I felt sick, with the flu, and I needed antibiotics or whatever, would you think that I was weak for using them?”

I shook my head at Leah almost immediately, the question was a no brainer for me,

“Exactly, because I’d be taking the medication needed to keep me well and functioning. All you are doing is the same thing y/n, keeping yourself alive and well.”

#leah williamson #lionesses #woso #leah williamson x reader #serena wiegman #lucy bronze #fluff #anxiety attacks #medication #angst #i love leah williamson #golden retriever leah vibes #supportive moms #england lionesses x reader #lionesses x reader

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xxsabitoxx · 11 months

Text

Pale Blue Part 2 TEASER

Geto Suguru x Pregnant Reader

Warnings: this fic IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you have not caught up to the "gojo's past" arc in the manga or anime, you will be spoiled. This teaser does not contain anything more than kissing and suggestive moments between reader and suguru

Flashback~

“Did you really mean what you said last week?” You set your pen down, looking across your room to see Suguru sitting at your desk. You were both working on different assignments but still wanted to spend time together. “Hmm?” Suguru set his own pen down, turning his body to look at you where you sat on your own bed. “About… ya know… wanting to get me pregnant.” You watched a shy smile pass over Suguru’s face as he sighed. “Yeah… I meant it.” He started softly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. You had to chuckle at the fact that Suguru had stuffed an extra pen through his bun, just in case the other died while writing. “I guess you could say I have baby fever.”

“Baby fever, huh?” you teased, putting your notebook to the side as you did. “Yeah, baby fever. I just… fuck I don’t know it’s been a thought on my mind for a while now. I keep seeing these happy families, their small children giggling and playing and… I started daydreaming about what it would be like to be a father. When I envisioned our baby, fuck my heart just melted.” he sighed, face turning a little red before he continued on. “I started thinking about how cute you’d look pregnant, how cute you’d be as a mom. How sweet it would be to hear their little voice calling you mama.” Your lips parted, completely entranced by the world he was painting you.

“Suguru.” you stated rather bluntly, smiling as his head shot up to look at you. At some point in his rambling, he had begun staring into space, as if envisioning the things he talked about. “Y-yeah?” You laugh softly, crawling off your bed and crossing the small space until you stand before him. “Come here.” You smile, hands gently cupping his cheeks and forcing his head to look up at you. “ I love you so much.” You started softly, thumb gingerly brushing along the plains of his cheekbone. Suguru swallowed, brown eyes observing every inch of your face. “I love you too.” He breathed, subconsciously leaning into your touch. “If you’re serious, if you truly want a baby…”

“I do.”

Your lips parted before you smiled brightly, giggling a bit at his instant reassurance. “... then I am more than willing to try and conceive.” You hadn’t intended for it to come out so seductive, but the way Suguru’s breathing hitched told you it had a dual effect. “Really?” You nodded, thumb still gently caressing his cheeks. “I know we’re young and all, but I think there is no time better than the present to chase your dreams.” You snorted at your own cheesiness, laughing as Suguru’s arms came around your waist to hug you tightly. “Thank you.” his voice was soft, just above a whisper. “You know, I have to ask, Suguru… especially since you seemed to put a ton of thought into this.”

“Yeah? Anything. Ask away.” You reached up and tugged the pen out of his bun, fingers moving to delicately pull his hair out of the bun itself. You always enjoyed it when he had his hair down. “What was the moment that made you realize it was more than just a desire, that it was something you actually wanted. I know you said you saw families and all that but… you’re a man of purpose. Something in particular egged you on and I’m dying to know what.” From the way his cheeks turned red, you knew you had hit the nail on the head. He wasn’t lying about the baby fever, but you knew him too well to know that it wasn’t just an accumulation of events.

One thing in particular had been his “breaking point” of sorts.

“Alright you caught me.” he sighed deeply, eyes glancing away from you before looking up again. “Remember that weekend I went home to visit family?” You nodded, hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. Suguru’s arms opened, allowing you to climb onto his lap as he spoke. “Well, my cousin had just had her baby a few weeks prior. Since she knew I was coming home to visit for the weekend, she came over with her new baby to introduce us.” You nodded again, humming thoughtfully as you twirled some of his hair around your fingers. “I don’t think I’ve ever held a baby before.” He added, cheeks a rosy pink instead of flaming red.

“And when she put that little baby in my arms I… fuck I just melted.”

He swallowed, finding it endearing that you were so invested in every word he spoke. “I just remember thinking that… there was nothing more special than that bond. The bond between mother and child… between father and child. I found myself imagining what it would be like to hold my own newborn… and I was serious when I said every time I envisioned it, they always looked like you.” He relaxed a bit when you leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before pulling away again. “That’s a beautiful reason, you know.” You hugged him after saying it, letting your chin rest on his shoulders as his arms encompassed your waist and squeezed.

“I want to be a dad, I’ve known that from the very moment I held that baby. But I… if you aren’t ready… I don’t want to force you to do anything.” The vulnerability in his voice made your heart squeeze, it was very rare that Suguru was openly shy about something. “No time better than the present, ya know.” You whispered it again, feeling his breath stutter as you spoke. “Really?” he breathed out again, as if in disbelief that you were saying yes despite already agreeing once before. You nod, trying to contain your smile. “It’s not like it’ll happen right away, it takes time. Most couples have to try for a while before they strike gold.”

“I guess that is true, there are a lot of factors that go into this… it’s a miracle that women are even able to conceive in the first place when you truly look at it.” you felt yourself giggling, finding it cute that Suguru had clearly put some research into this whole idea too. He wanted it, so bad, you couldn’t bear the thought of not trying to give it to him. “So… what do you say, shall we start now?” you pulled away from his hug, grinning deviously at him. “Right now?” Suguru looked shocked, eyes wide and lips slightly parted before he was able to collect his thoughts. “Yeah, right now.” studies could wait, of course they could. Suguru knew that just as well as you did.

Suguru answered you with a kiss, lips melting against your own as his hands clung to your waist.

#wire dividers are from @benkeibear #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru imagines #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru x reader #suguru imagine #jjk suguru #jjk imagines #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #suguru geto #suguru smut

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changisworld · 8 months

Note

any hard thoughts about lee know? 👀

~ j

Hi j!

of COURSE i have hard thoughts of this man, who the hell DOESNT?!

this was pre-written ready to post but this was the perfect ask for me to post this to so THANK YOU

PSA FOR ASKS/REQUESTS: i WILL get around to posting everyone’s requests i’m just sorry if it takes a bit of time but whatever you request i’ll post it!! IM ALSO MAKING AN ANON LIST!! just send me anything & tell me what emoji u wanna be!<3

Word count; 911

18+, MDNI!!

main masterlist here

LEEKNOW HARD THOUGHTS

this man is obsessed with you & i MEAN IT! Leeknow loves to show this to you by making you feel as if you are on cloud9 every time you get into bed. He gets you SO riled up by doing the simplest things, whether that be from simply holding your waist as you both brush your teeth, twirling your hair or playfully biting you.

In bed however, he knows he is filing you up & knows exactly how to tease you. Says things like;

“but i am touching you baby, what else do you want? tell me” As he is teasing your folds with his fingertips, avoiding your needy clit completely.

“You want my tongue so badly? beg me for it then.” He would say, cat eyes looking up at you as he is in-between your thighs blowing cold air onto your puffy cunt.

“you take me so well baby, i have no idea how you’re always this tight.” He says as he finally buries himself inside you, your walls welcoming him like a really tight warm hug.

“already gonna cum? cum for me then but i wont be stopping until you squirt then baby.” (this man definitely has a huge kink for you cumming in general but especially squirting??)He groans as he is already pounding into you, your cunt is definitely not gonna be pain free later, already red from the constant abuse it’s getting from his dick, pelvis hitting against it & his fingers.

DEFINITELY DEFINITELY DEFINITELY has a dick around 6 inches & thick & KNOWS how to use it. He is all for ‘vanilla’ sex & enjoys it a lot but he knows you love dirty talk so he makes sure to make sure you know how dirty you are, letting him fuck you open as your eyes are leaking tears from the pleasure. he loves overstimulation especially on you, he loves watching you squirm around him, trying to get away from the pleasure but also to try get more.

He’s 100% more of a dom but he has let you switch roles a handful of times mainly for your enjoyment but he would be lying if he didn’t find it hot as fuck to watch you get off on him, using his thigh, stomach, dick or even face to get yourself off. He likes to say that he’s ‘acting’ when he lets out whines, begs & pleas to fit into the ‘sub role’ but you both know it’s leaving his lips subconsciously.

“M-mommy plea-se can i have your cunt… need it so bad” He whines as you edge him for the 3rd time.

“s-slow down! t-too wet, guna cu-cum!” he stresses with glossy eyes, trying to hold back but doesn’t dare touch you since you told him not to.

Definitely has an oral fixation, whether that be him watching you swallow his cock around your lips, gagging & gurgling as spit drips down your chin & his thighs, him watching you suck his fingers as he plays with your clit, eyes glossy or even you letting him suck your fingers which he always gladly accepts. He LOVES LOVES kissing you, tongues wrapping around eachother, fighting for dominance, the taste of your lips has him addicted. Loves biting your lips as he kisses you just to hear you whine. LOVES eating you out, he might even say it’s his favourite part of sex with you, your taste all over his tongue & lips could be all he tastes forever & he would be happy. knows exactly where to nibble, lick & suck.

“You taste better than pudding y/n, they should take inspiration.” He says nonchalantly as if your eyes aren’t rolling back through your skull & your juices aren’t all over his cheeks & nose.

“ahh, you like when i lick you here too now huh? i’ll remember that baby, can ya cum if i keep it up hm?” he asks with a slight cheeky grin, knowing he found another hidden sweet spot.

“cunt is so wet, so sloppy all for me baby, you’re dripping absolutely everywhere.” he says with a slight cheer in his voice, watching & feeling you clench around nothing.

This man doesn’t really have a favourite position since he knows how to adjust how he fits inside you to make you both see stars regardless but if he had to choose, he would choose mating press since that is the position that gets you into the floaty cloudy state you beg him to put you into.

He isn’t insecure of himself at all so likes to use vibrators, handcuffs, dildos & flavoured lube to make it even more enjoyable for you both & to also help achieve what you both want out of each specific time you are in bed, if it is a bed you’re both in seeing since this man has no issues with fucking you in every square inch of your house.

This man is an aftercare king tbh, always has water next to the bed & drowns you in kisses & cuddles & most of the time will let you choose something to watch, already knowing it’s gonna be the same few random movies you’re obsessed with & he thinks he can recite every single sentence at this point.

“You did so well baby, let me do this to you” He says as he pulls out slowly, eyes darting from your cunt to your flushed out face, his cheeks blushed along with his ears too.

“I love you so much y/n, my favourite thing on this earth is you.” He mumbles into your neck as he kisses it softly.

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hyptrance1 · 8 months

Text

Hypnosis Challenge #5: Hypnotic Hijinks

Hi all, apparently this was the most requested text induction (technically there’s like an hour left until the poll closes) so I’m gonna continue this series apparently. It’s a little wild that a series I started writing at the young age of 20 still has interest 10 years later just a few days before my 30th birthday. If you’re new to this the idea is simple: try not to go under. If you end up winning good for you, but I know the majority of you are trying to go under from this challenge. If you do end up losing this challenge the post hypnotic suggestion will be to reblog this with a comment, something like “I was hypnotized by HypTrance’s induction, I must reblog his induction like a good hypnotized toy.” If thats not something you’re interested in doing if you go under then I would suggest not reading this induction. If that is something you’re alright with then well, continue reading. As always, my inductions are not for anyone who is not an adult so you better be 18+, and lastly if you are interested in more of my inductions they can be found on my profile somewhere (sorry, just search and you’ll find them eventually). That’s it, enjoy.

So the last induction I had told you guys about how other guys had felt when going under to my words. Obviously you won’t go under for that again, so I suppose I’ll have to try a different approach. Additionally, I’m sure that you’ll be trying harder this time to resist my words and not go under, which is fine because I like the challenge. So do your best to try not and get comfortable then. Don’t let your body sink into whatever you’re laying on, don’t allow your body to subconsciously get comfortable even if it wants to. Just stay in this position while reading, focusing on both your body and my words, cause is it really winning if you dont give your attention to my words? I don’t think so, and I would tell you and your body that exact thing if you told me. So give my words your undivided attention and try not to let your body relax too much. I suggest not breathing too deeply in, and not slowly exhaling out, since slow even breaths are an easy way for your body to start relaxing. I wonder if your body will help you in resisting my words, or maybe it will follow my words instead, helping me to take you that much further under. Interesting thoughts, right?

And while your focus is split between two things, your body and my words, trying to not have your body relax to much and your breathing to slow down to much, you should also try not to let your thoughts slip out of your mind to much. It’s difficult, I know, when your attention has to be slip towards so many things, having to switch your focus from your thoughts making sure that some are not slowly slipping out, your body to make sure that your breathing isn’t slowing down subconsciously, and reading my words making sure that you are actually finishing this challenge is difficult, but I’m confident in your abilities to do all three and not be subconsciously swayed by my words telling you to just read, relax, and slowly stop thinking. It’s probably a little bit tiring though, but don’t worry, not in the I’m going under tiring, just the having to keep your attention on all these things makes you mentally tired. But that’s probably not a good thing, so you better find a way to keep yourself alert and awake. Oh, but wait, now you probably start noticing that your body is also relaxing now, that your breathing has slowed and you’ve gotten more comfortable where you are. But do you remember your original position? It’s probably difficult to think of the exact position, especially when you’re supposed to be focusing on not letting your thoughts slowly stop and continuing to stop your body from relaxing more. And reading my words on top of it is dividing your attention a little too much. Maybe this challenge is a little harder than expected.

I don’t think focusing on all of those things is the only thing that’s hard. This would probably be easier if you didn’t find hypnosis hot, and didn’t find resisting and failing to resist hypnosis even harder. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that there’s pleasure building within your body. Is your dick hard by now? Just reading my words and imagining yourself going under to them, even after all the strong resisting you did? Well I suppose that’s just another thing that you have to try and focus on and stop from continuing: the building pleasure within you. How is your attention doing? Being split into four different directions. I hope you’re still trying to resist going under, not letting yourself relax to much, your breathing to slow, as your thoughts stay within your mind and don’t slip out, while you try to keep your hard on from inflating any more and you keep reading my words. That seems to be a lot to handle. Are you sure you can handle it?

I’m sure that last little bit of teasing reinvigorated some resistance in you. You’re probably thinking that you can’t let my words take you under, that you can let how relaxed they make you, how hard they’re making you, stop your thoughts in their tracks and leave you staring mindlessly, hypnotized. But like my last induction said, like others have said, “your eyes just keep coming back to my words, continuing to read even if the words are taking you deeper and deeper”. So even if you try to take a moment to stop, catch your breath, refocus on your thoughts, you keep coming back to my words, keep coming back to the same feeling that seems to be pulsing through your more and more: relaxation, pleasure, and probably a little bit of submission as your resistance slowly begins to fade. Just like how you haven’t noticed till now that your body is in a very relaxed position, that your hard on is fully throbbing and pulsing right now, that your eyes seem heavy and your head seems light, like there are not enough thoughts in it.

And it is probably now that you’re having a hard time thinking. Go ahead and try. Its hard to form a thought when you’re attention is so split by everything, your relaxed body, your pleasurable hard on, your heavy eyes on my words, my words filling your mind, making it almost impossible to let your thoughts even start to enter your mind. You’re just sitting there, reading my words, unable to make a thought. It seems as though you’ve lost the challenge, but let’s just make sure for a second, alright? When I count down form 10 to 0 in a second, you’re going to slip further and further under my words until your mind is blank, empty, and deeply hypnotized. You can feel those words entering your mind, and you know that you’ll follow them, but you can try your hardest, just as hard as your hard on right now, to resist my words and not go completely under to my induction. You ready to give it one last shot?

Your body relaxing more, even as you try to resist.

Your breathing slowing, making you relax even further.

Your eyes so heavy focused on my words.

My words floating through your brain filling it.

Your thoughts unable to even form.

Pleasure in your body filling every part of you.

You’re hard on just slowly throbbing.

Resistance leaving your body.

No more resistance.

No more thoughts.

Blank and hypnotized.

Now you can just continue reading as you allow yourself to just stare and follow my words. At this moment you should know that you have lost this hypnosis challenge and have gone under to my words, which is fine because your body feels so good and your mind feels so nice with my words filling it. So as you continue to read this you should remember that I said that if you lost this challenge you would be given a post hypnotic suggestion, which I will give to you now. When you wake you’re going to reblog or repost my original post to the induction, whether it be on twitter, or Tumblr. When you repost this induction you will also reblog it with the comment “I was hypnotized by HypTrance’s induction, I must reblog his induction like a good hypnotized toy.” If you do not wish to complete this post hypnotic suggestion, please feel free not to complete it and to disregard the rest of this paragraph. For those of you that are okay with following this direction, you can feel that post hypnotic suggestion flow into your mind with the rest of my words, ready to be followed when you wake up.

Which, in another moment you will wake when I count to 3. I want you to all feel nice, relaxed, and hoary when you wake from this trance, content and feeling well rested. You will feel peaceful from your time reading these words. Now:

Thoughts returning to your mind

Becoming more alert, more awake, more conscious.

Wide awake.

Wide, wide awake.

Well hopefully you enjoyed this second reinvention of an old challenge. I think I’ve done this one before as well, but always good, even after ten years, to rework it into an even better version. I’m hoping that you continue to enjoy both my text and voice inductions which you can find linked to my page. You can also always reach out with ideas or leave them anonymously. Other than that, trace ya next time.

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nonbinarytoast · 6 days

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I try not to post too much political stuff on this page but I needed to share this.

My mom teaches third grade. Because the school system in America is shit, most of them still don’t know how to add two single digit numbers, something that’s required in first grade but that first grade couldn’t teach them because they were all hyper active maniacs.

One of my mom’s standards in history that she has to teach is all the different countries and immigration from one country to another. Today she asked her class what an immigrant was.

They responded with “well ___ says that immigrants are invading our country” “___ wants to stop the spread of immigrants” “___ said that immigrants eat dogs”

Not a single one knew what an immigrant was, but they all thought it was bad. If so many people were making commercials talking about stopping them then they had to be bad, right?

My mom told them what an immigrant was. “Someone who goes to another country to practice free speech or religious freedoms”

“What’s free speech?” It’s when you can say what your opinion is. Some countries put you in jail for that. “What’s freedom of religion?” So you can practice your own faith. Some countries don’t let you go to the church you want to. “Why are we trying to stop them from coming here?” That’s a question for the politicians. “Wait, so I’m an immigrant?” Yes, since you moved here from Canada, you are an immigrant. “My grandpas an immigrant?!” “My mom is an immigrant?!” “My great grandma is an immigrant?!”

You get the idea.

Not a single one of these children knew what an immigrant was. All they knew, or thought they knew, was that we needed to keep them out because they were bad people.

Politicians making commercials doesn’t just affect voters or people trying to watch football. Kids see it. Little kids who don’t know anything yet. And in seeing it they subconsciously think that even the people they love the most are the people they think they know are bad.

I don’t know what the moral of this story is. But please, please for the love of whatever god or gods you believe in know that this is wrong. That soon you might have to immigrate to escape the US. And know that it’s because of the politicians who lie and cheat their way into office because people don’t know what they’re really voting for.

#usa politics #usa #politics #school #i hate this fucking country

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229zmi · 9 months

Text

SHYNESS GIRL

PAIRING: Yachi Hitoka/Reader

CONTENT: reader is implied to be taller than yachi, using a plastic knife to cut a leaf for a science experiment, honestly 99% of this is just yachi’s inner monologue

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

“What the fuck, it’s so hot and humid in this room. I think I’m gonna melt.”

You really aren’t exaggerating. It would even be an understatement to say that you feel like a sweaty, pungent mess right now, especially after running here from your dorm just to hear that the AC in the entire building is temporarily down. You yawn, fanning your face with your hand to keep yourself from dropping dead onto the tiled floor, although your efforts are futile.

When your lab partner does absolutely nothing in response to your pointless narration, you send an aggrieved look in her direction. Normally, you don’t mind when people feel inclined to not talk to you, especially since you like hearing the sound of your voice and you prattle on enough for all parties anyway, but at least a nod of acknowledgement would be nice to let you know that you aren’t alone in your suffering.

“Do I stink?“ You figure maybe she’s too scared to speak ‘cause your godawful stench might waft onto her tongue.

“Of course not!” Immediately, Yachi peers up at you and shakes her head so fast, you’re worried it’ll fall off. You find yourself enjoying the way her star-shaped hair clip nearly slips off her blonde strands from the movement before she reaches up to swiftly fix it back into place. “Sorry,” she stutters out, like that inconvenienced you in any way.

“No worries,” you say. Briefly, your eyes scan the tabletop, taking note of each item laid out in front of you. “Ooh, a hair-dryer.”

You flick the switch to turn it on, only to wrinkle your nose and quickly turn it off when the hair-dryer doesn’t seem to have the desired effect of a cooling fan.

“What do we even use this for? In this experiment, I mean.”

“We use it to simulate a warm breeze for one of our treatment groups. That way, we can see if it’ll influence the transpiration rate.”

“Well, aren’t you smart.” Your teasing remark has Yachi flushing a bright red colour as she shakes her head vigorously again and points to a paragraph in her lab manual as though to deflect the compliment. Regardless, you choose to ignore her, concealing your amusement behind a stony guise. “What do we do first?”

“Put on gloves.”

“Ew.” Resisting the urge to gag at the sensation of latex against your sweaty palms, you tug on a pair of blue disposable gloves with considerable effort. She does the same, although with significantly less reluctance. “Next.”

“Get two lettuce leaves that are similar in size,” Yachi reads. Nervously, she looks to you, prepared to offer to retrieve the aforementioned leaves herself so you can relish in the great honour that is staying in the same spot. However, you’re already turning around before she can say anything and walking to the front of the classroom, happy to do as told.

When you return to your work area, there are two lettuce leaves pinched in between your gloved fingers, though they’re different sizes, unlike she asked. You set them down on the table with an expectant expression on your face as you stare at her.

“Good?”

NO! NOT GOOD, her subconscious says.

Yachi knows this is wrong, yet she can’t find it in herself to speak up as she chews on her bottom lip and furrows her eyebrows. After all, as respectful as you have been so far, you do have a certain reputation around campus. She hears it from Yamaguchi, who hears it from Hinata and Kageyama, who hear it from Tsukishima (who likes to lie to them for shits and giggles sometimes). Apparently, you spend your free time throwing rocks at people’s windows at the dead of the night, make people you don’t like do your homework for you, and shove professors’ faces down the toilets whenever they give you a bad grade. Very intimidating.

She’s torn between two options. The thought of possibly offending you strikes such terror into her that she’d almost rather risk getting a bad grade on this lab than correct your mistake. But then there’s the chance that if she lets this mistake go and the both of you get points docked, you’ll find out that she knew all along. And then what?

What if you’re livid because she caused you to have a low score, so you start making her do your homework in order to raise your grade? What if you tell everyone of the one (1) horrible thing she did and then everyone starts making her do their homework to punish her for her dishonesty? What if she ends up having too much homework to do and people start getting mad at her for not being able to do their homework on time? What if they start throwing rocks at her window? What if you start throwing rocks at her window? What if, what if, what if?

She can’t let that happen!

“Actually, that’s not…”

“Huh?” This elicits an eyebrow raise from you. Assuming your confusion is a matter of you not quite hearing her rather than her deliberately trailing off out of apprehension, you turn your head to the side and lean down slightly so that your ear is level with her mouth. “Can you repeat that?”

Yachi squeaks, backing up.

“Never mind!” the words rush out of her mouth before she can think. With her heart pounding in her chest, all she can do now is hope that the two leaves being different sizes won’t make that much of a difference in your results. (Oh, who is she kidding? It’s a science experiment — of course, it’s gonna impact the results!) “I think the next step is to cut a thin slice off at the bottom of each leaf!”

“With this knife?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.”

A couple moments pass, and Yachi exhales, feeling somewhat relieved that you don’t seem to catch on to her ginormous fib while also feeling like a criminal at the same time. Maybe she’ll have enough time to change her name and move to another country before you realise. Yeah, that seems like the smart thing to do.

Your voice sears through her thoughts, pulling her back to reality. “This is kind of fun.” You point the plastic knife at her. Yachi feels like she’s going to wither away. “You wanna try?”

“No thank you!”

“Suit yourself.” With a half-hearted one-shoulder shrug, you go right back to what you’re doing.

Wait, Yachi suddenly thinks. What if that was your way of indirectly telling her to do something for once instead of just standing there and doing nothing aside from giving you commands like it’s her birthright? Now she just looks like a horrible person! Perhaps she should take the knife from you and do it herself. But what if that offends you, making you think that she thinks you’re not doing it right? Are you even doing it right?!

Warily, Yachi glances at the table.

Oh no. You’re cutting the leaves wrong. Horribly wrong, so wrong there’s no doubt the both of you’ll get an awful grade on this lab report if she doesn’t say anything soon.

Faced with no other alternative, she frowns, then takes a deep breath. YOU CAN DO THIS, GIRL, says her subconscious. Or something. God, she’s such a nervous wreck, she doesn’t even know what’s happening anymore.

“Hey, um.” Good start. Inwardly, she pats herself on the back. “Is that how we’re supposed to be cutting it? I — I don’t think our lab manual says to do it like that.”

“What.”

“Never mind! Maybe it does say that! I’m not sure, what d’you think?”

“I don’t know,” you declare intelligently. You don’t stop what you’re doing, seemingly concentrated on cutting the leaf even after being told that you’re wrong, but you nod your chin at her lab manual. “What does that say, again?”

“It says to cut a thin slice off of each leaf.”

“Okay.”

Yachi frowns. “…Those look like hearts.”

“Aw, really? That’s crazy. I didn’t realise.” You grin down at your heart-shaped cutouts, scratching your head as if you don’t know what possessed you to do such a thing. “Sorry about that.“

Yachi waves both of her hands frantically. “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologise! It’s my fault, I should’ve said something earl—“

“Hey, don’t stress yourself over it. Since I messed up, I’ll just get two more leaves and start over.” You nudge her elbow with yours playfully. “Hope you don’t mind spending extra time with me on this lab. Unless I stink.” Your face turns solemn all of a sudden. “It’s okay to tell me the truth. I know I’m sweaty.”

“You don’t smell bad at all!” she splutters as you walk away. Nonetheless, all is well after you return with two lettuce leaves, both of equal size this time around.

“That was your attempt at getting my attention? By doing everything wrong?”

It’s several years down the line, and your girlfriend seems to be in disbelief as you recall the fondest memories of you and her before your relationship. With a smile tugging at your lips, you gently take a wisp of her hair, twirling it around your finger before tucking it into the crevice behind her ear.

“Duh, I was totally into you. Wasn’t that obvious?”

Yachi looks at you with such incredulity, you could almost laugh. “No!”

“Come on, you’re only saying that ‘cause you thought I was some low-life delinquent,” you say, trying to convince her. “I made you hearts out of lettuce leaf. Isn’t that so romantic? Call me a flirting connoisseur or whatever.”

Her nose scrunches up. “I’ll pass.”

You clutch your chest and let your head fall onto her shoulder. “You wound me severely.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #yachi x reader #yachi hitoka x reader #229ZMI

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creelkobblelaufeyson69 · 4 months

Text

Fuck the rules

Warnings: smut

After Lambert had left, all they wanted was Adam all over them. They didn’t think they’d get horny during a job, but they needed their man now. Adam did think that they looked especially hot tonight, and wondered if he’d be able to not break the rule of no ass grab

But he was determined to be well behaved during the night. They sat next to him at the bar as everyone else had went to explore the place. They would look to be on his lap and straddling him, but they weren’t gonna give in no matter how much they craved him

His hand subconsciously moved to their thigh, which makes them shocked. Once the two were done with the drinks, his hand goes further up their thigh. “Frank” they started, but he immediately shushed them as he was fully aware of what his hand is doing now

He felt how much they needed him, which makes him more horny. They were a blushing mess now as they wondered if anyone would catch the two at the moment. “Fuck. Baby I need you” he whines, which makes them shocked. “Want me to take care of you sir? You know I’m good at that” they say, which makes him grasp onto their thigh that wasn’t being covered by a pair of short shorts

He insisted they wear it so he’d get a good view. He also told them not to wear underwear either. He knew that was a good idea. “Fuck” they cursed as he brings them onto his lap so they could feel how hard he was. “This is what you do to me babe” he says in a low voice as he places his hands firmly onto their waist

“Let me bring you somewhere more comfortable to sit” he says as he lifts them up bridal style once he gets off the bar stool. He brings them over to the couch, and he sits down as he props them on his lap. His hands go back onto their waist now as they now start to straddle him

His head arches back already, and he lets out needy moans. “Shh” they say as they subconsciously cover his mouth. He holds them in place as they realized what they’ve done. He takes one of his hands off of their waist to move the hand that was covering his mouth

“Don’t fucking do that again, you understand?” He asked in frustration, which only makes them more horny. “Yes sir” they moaned out quietly, which makes him amused. His hand goes back onto their waist, and he lets them continue to straddle him until he came in his pants

He was moaning the whole time, not caring about how loud he was. The thought of getting caught excited Adam, and he was determined to achieve that goal. “Take my cock out, so I can feel your walls” he orders, which they happily listen. Once his cock was out, they moved their shorts down a bit so he could easily enter them

Now they’re holding onto the chair, and bouncing up and down on his cock. His hands were grasping onto their waist more firmly now as they let out loud moans now. They wanted to caught now since the thrill excited them just as much as did for him. He uses their code name when moaning their name

Each other’s moans began to echo throughout the bar, which makes them cum. “Jesus!” Sammy shouts as she looks away from the two. This makes him cum a second time, and they also came again already as well. They stopped and pulled their shorts back up

“You guys really couldn’t have done that in the million rooms in this place?” Sammy asked in annoyance as he pulls his boxers and pants up. “We got impatient” Adam says as his forehead pressed against theirs. His glasses had been off this whole time, but he felt too lazy to get them off of the bar now

Sammy looks back to see how gentle he was being towards them after that. She found it adorable and the only redeeming quality of his. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I’m sure you’d like to keep this a secret to the rest of the group” she says as his eyes were on only them

They were only paying attention to his face as well. The face they loved ever since the two met. He begins to rub their back now, which soothes them. “We would” Adam says as he continues to rub his lovers back. Sammy smiles at how cute the two looked together, and went off into one of the many rooms to chill in

#smut and fluff #adam barrett #adam barrett x reader #abigail frank x reader #abigail frank #abigail movie #dan stevens

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simply-smitten · 6 months

Text

Smitten Master Post!

About me - my socials - my fics

About me~

She/her pronouns

26 with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a master’s degree in social work

Mcyt is my first/only fandom

I primarily write DNF and Karlnap, but I do have a few multiship thread fics on my 18+ NSFW twitter :)

My boundaries: do not interact with my NSFW content if you’re a minor, do not supply my NSFW content to minors, and do not repost my work whatsoever (only exception is to translate it, but please contact me first to get permission)

My socials~

Ao3: simplysmitten

Main twitter: simplysmitten_

Alt twitter: simplysosmitten

NSFW twitter: simplysmutten (must be 18+ with your age in your bio)

Wattpad: simplysmitten

Curiouscat: simplysmutten

My fics~

Thread fics - Separated by ship (dnf, karlnap, snf, dnn, dnkn), NSFW threads have a warning in red and are posted to my 18+ twitter (simplysmutten), SFW threads that were turned into chapters of “Between Friends” have the Ao3 and Wattpad links, and NSFW threads that were turned into works for my “Beyond Friends” series have the Ao3 link.

Karlnap fics~

Because You Are Love (rated T, 140k, 61/61 chapters)

Summary: Sapnap grew up in Texas, a state where being gay just wasn't something you were allowed to talk about- so he didn't. He never came out to his family and even when he made new friends who loved him unconditionally, he still couldn't bring himself to come out. Staying in the closet never felt like a problem once he moved to Florida with Dream, well, until a video collaboration introduced him to a boy that made him question if he could keep hiding. Now, Sapnap has to return to Texas for the first time since his move to Florida for his step-sister's birthday. What's waiting for him when he arrives is going to make keeping his sexuality a secret from his family that much harder.

(i’m worried) it will always be you (rated E, 120k, 20/20 chapters)

Summary: College AU. Sapnap, a notoriously sullen computer science major, is attending North Carolina State University, along with his roommate and long-time internet friend, Dream. While Dream has been pining over the pretty British boy in a couple of his classes, Sapnap finds himself having a much harder time avoiding a certain gray-eyed ray of sunshine.

*Story is not told chronologically. Chapters will vary from Freshman year (2015-2016 school year) to Senior year (2018-2019 school year). Chapters will be dated at the top to avoid confusion. Also, for reference, 'present day' is spring semester of senior year.*

Your Telephone Calls are my Favorite Place (rated T, 100k, 62/62 chapters)

Summary: Karl is finding it more and more difficult to hide his feelings for his best friend, Sapnap. He's willing to risk it all for his chance at love, but does he really understanding just how much he's risking?

DNF fics~

Please Let Me Go (rated M, 75k, 14/14 chapters)

Summary: Dream finds himself in an introverts worst nightmare when Sapnap convinces him to host seven of their close friends for Sapnap's 21st birthday. The only thing holding Dream together was knowing he could finally meet his best friend, George, in person. However, the person who stepped off the plane felt like a complete stranger to Dream- an unrecognizable personality inhabiting the body of the person he thought he knew better than anyone in this world. Years of online friendship had built up this moment for him, only to come crashing down when George wasn't the man he thought he was.

Between Friends (rated T, 110k and counting, oneshot collection)

Summary: A collection of fluffy DNF oneshots. Each chapter is its own completed story (aside from ‘Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas’ and ‘Homesick-London-Cafe’). Most oneshots are canon adjacent, and so far two are AUs. Primarily takes place around the time of the meet-up.

All paths lead to you (rated T, 30k, oneshot)

Summary: When George is stressed, he has nightmares, and when George has nightmares, he sleepwalks. In a subconscious search for relief, George sleepwalks to the safest place he can find- Dream's room. Dream finds out more than he bargained for when trying to decode George's nonsensical sleep-talking, but he struggles to make conscious-George as comforted by his presence as unconscious-George.

‘Idiot’ means ‘I love you’ in Floridian (rated T, 20k, oneshot)

Summary: Model-George x bodyguard-Dream AU. George has been working as a model for a few years now. His father, a higher up in the English government, insists that George has a bodyguard with him at all times. As an act of defiance, George makes a point to sneak away from his bodyguards to prove to his father they're useless and he doesn't need one. Desperate to find a bodyguard that can actually keep track of his son, George's father hires a bodyguard from a different background- a masked man named Dream. For once, George isn't so eager to get this bodyguard fired.

The Colors We Don’t See (rated T, 7k, oneshot)

Summary: Soulmate AU. Soulmates are predetermined, but that never held Dream back from loving George. When George is finally able to move to Florida, the first thing Dream notices is the way his laugh bounces more clearly than ever before. The second thing he notices is the bright yellow aura surrounding him, like George had stolen the sun out of the sky and placed it in his heart instead. George is his soulmate, that much is clear, but trouble arises when George can't see Dream's aura in return.

Live, Laugh, (Blood)Lust (rated T, 6k, oneshot)

Summary: Vampire-George x wizard-Dream AU. George doesn’t believe bloodlust is real, so Dream offers to put a love spell on him to prove him wrong… but he’s not the best wizardry student.

The Remedy to Everything (rated E, 196k, 50/50 chapters)

Summary: After nearly a year of waiting for his visa, George is finally allowed to go home. Home, meaning a house in Florida that was already inhabited by his two best friends, Dream and Sapnap. Being an omega, George feared what trouble moving in with two alphas could potentially create. He never expected that trouble would come in the form of soft curls and green eyes, sparking something irreversible inside himself.

First Love / Late Fall (rated E, 13k, 3/3 chapters)

Summary: George has been going down a dark path for a while, carelessly using people in order to satisfy selfish needs. He hides who he is from his friends who only know him via the internet. This double life becomes a lot more challenging when someone shows up on his doorstep in the middle of the night. Could this be the event that triggers George to change?

It Takes Two to Edge (rated E, 7k, oneshot, part 1 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: Dream and George are in a fwb (... plus feelings) type of situation. After their edging session gets interrupted, George rewards Dream with the promise of fulfilling his breeding kink for the first time.

my honey, my moon (rated E, 20k, oneshot, part 2 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: Dream and George go on fake honeymoons, indulging each other in everything they miss about relationships. Then things change when Dream actually gets a girlfriend.

bet your ass i’m right (rated E, 12k, oneshot, part 3 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: Dream and George like to make bets, even over the dumbest of things. The stakes get higher when they start to wager sexual favors.

More Convenient (An Arrangement of Sorts) (rated E, 8k, oneshot, part 4 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: Dream can't get off without having a partner to please, but luckily for him, George just moved to America. (also they are idiots in love they are so dumb and so in love but not in an angsty way just a "they're so stupid" way)

GeorgeNotFound OnlyFans (rated E, 37k, 5/5 chapters, part 5 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: Fresh out of university and struggling to land a job in his field, George finds himself desperate for a way to make ends meet. While his friends have big dreams of blowing up on YouTube, George decides to make an OnlyFans profile. Shockingly, George goes viral on both platforms, making his money troubles a thing of the past, but maintaining his anonymity a constant worry. How funny is it that he manages to make a friend named Clay on both platforms?

Warm, like Starlight (rated E, 53k, 2/2 chapters, part 6 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: Humans are banned from touching other species in the galaxy, but George, a cat-hybrid, takes a leap of faith and lets the human aboard his ship, Dream, pet him. It awakens a side of George he’s desperate to satisfy, and Dream is more than willing to meet all of George’s needs.

Extra-Circadian Activities (rated E, 12.4k, 3/3 chapters, part 7 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: George had never grown out of the 'wet dreams' phase in life. He'd learned how to navigate it- never sharing a bed, no sleepovers, not falling asleep around other people for more than a quick nap, etc.- but then Dream had to go and derail his plans. Between the flirting, the touching, the kissing- it made George want to do something stupid... Stupid, as in tell Dream all his fantasies about being touched in his sleep. After George's innocent nap in the living room went on for a little too long, Dream got more than he bargained for when he let George use him as a pillow.

(A dnf love story of truly finding the match to your freak)

Use me or Lose me (Beg for it) (rated E, 16.4k, 1/1 chapters, part 8 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: After Dream's most recent fling fizzles out, he's left pent up and searching for relief. George finds himself in the unforeseen position of being the center of Dream's desire- a desire that he's so desperate to fulfill, he's willing to beg for it. Pathetic eyes and frantic pleas for George to be his sex toy for one night open a can of worms in George's mind. But it'll just be this once... right?

high risk, high reward (rated E, 20.2k, 1/1 chapters, part 9 of Beyond Friends)

Summary: George can't come. Okay, he can, but it takes him a ridiculous amount of time to reach his climax. Dream pokes fun at George about it until he goes a little too far, which leaves him scrambling to make it up to him. What starts as spit-balling ideas to solve the issue unintentionally turns into Dream claiming that if he gave George head, he'd come within a designated timeframe. His off-handed comment grows into a full-fledged bet.

Three tries, a thirty-minute time limit, and instructions to pull out all the stops.

Happy reading!

<3 smitten

#pinned #smitten fics #please go easy on me I’m still new here

21 notes · View notes

dduane · 1 year

Note

Dai!

I'm currently reading chapter 4 of The Wizard's Dilemma - where Kit and Nita are fighting, and sending messages via their manuals - and I was wondering:

The manual translates their spoken words into the Speech. And the Speech is much more precise for describing things as they are, including a lot of context. Wouldn't it transcribe, here, context such as tone of voice, speaker's intention, etc. etc., so that Nita's "fine." might come across differently than if she texted just the English version?

(I find the idea SO intriguing, since written language often lacks exactly these context clues, and to imagine a language that doesn't? Is fascinating.)

Have a good start of your week!

...I'm going to get myself off the hook here by suggesting that there are a lot of ways you can have a Manual (or similar instrumentality) set up to either send or receive data: some ways a whole lot more granular than others... if you have the patience to put up with them. Sometimes you might just opt for the milk-tongue/casual native language option if you thought it was sufficient for current needs (and then forgot to reset when it wasn't).

Some of the granularity options were suggested in one of the YW 30-Day OTP Challenge posts: I'll just paste the contents in here. Inserting the cut below...

(Manual transcription, JD REDACTED XXXXXXXX.xxx - XXXXXXXX.xxx inclusive)

Participants: Callahan, J.L., Rodriguez, C.K.

(record begins)

CKR: You keep fiddling with that.

JLC: Yeah… the record settings are way more involved than I thought. Way more involved than they used to be, anyway. I messed something up the other day.

CKR: Anything serious?

JLC: Not really… got lucky that time.

CKR: …Up here again.

JLC: Yeah, seems smartest. We’ll have some warning in case Certain People start looking for us.

CKR: Like we have the slightest chance of escaping notice—

JLC: Didn’t say that. Some warning, though.

CKR: Fair enough.

(break in record) (record resumes)

JLC: It wasn’t, though.

CKR: It kinda was.

JLC: Uh, not really.

CKR: Look, it’s not like you were trying to hide anything about it. You told me you two were kissing. It’s okay.

JLC: But it wasn’t making out.

CKR: I don’t mind if it was. You were under pressure.

JLC: Pressure didn’t have anything to do with it! And it really wasn’t making out.

CKR: Neets, honestly, it’s not a problem.

JLC: It is if you think making out means that we were intending for something else to happen. Because it wasn’t. And you think that’s what it means. I can tell.

CKR: Listen, really, it’s okay! It was a weird situation, bizarre stuff was going on, you weren’t—

JLC: Stop right there! I know what was happening!

CKR: Look. Sorry. I’m sorry, I just…

JLC: I just need a way to show you.

CKR: …don’t think it’s that important, but if you—

JLC: Wait. Wait.

(pause)

JLC: You know… this could work. Absolutely it could.

CKR: What?

JLC: (laughter) We can run it back and take a look at it.

CKR: (pause) Run what back?

JLC: When he and I kissed.

(pause)

CKR: You lost me. Exactly what are you saying?

JLC: Well, you possibly won’t have heard. I do have an in with a privileged source. But lately there are some new ways to get at information using the Manual…

CKR: Whoa, whoa, wait a moment! How would that ever be in the Manual?!

JLC: It’s always been there… or the raw data has. But there are new ways to get at it.

CKR: (pause) This is kinda bizarre. The Powers are usually so gung-ho about privacy issues.

JLC: Oh, They still are. Everything’s locked down so that you can’t get at it if you don’t have all the necessary permissions.

CKR: How did you find out about this? Bobo?

JLC: Actually, no. Closer to home.

CKR: Oh…my…God. No.

JLC: Yes.

CKR: Dairine. How did she ever—

JLC: Not her. The Mobiles. They’ve got this insane archival project going on…

CKR: What, to preserve for all time the immortal details of you two necking?!

JLC: (laughter)

CKR: I can’t believe I’m getting on board with this. So fine. What do we need to do?

JLC: Get Ronan up here.

CKR: …For what exactly?

JLC: Consent.

CKR: …What??

(break in record) (record resumes)

JLC: See, that’s what you get. You okay?

CKR: Yeah, fine. Go on, make the call, no point in falling halfway down a mountain for nothing!

JLC: Not anything like halfway. Couldn’t have been more than—

CKR: Will you make the damn call already?

(break in record) (record resumes)

CKR: There he comes.

JLC: That was quick. Where?

CKR: Down the ridge.

JLC: Yeah. The usual offset.

CKR: Is it me or is he putting on weight?

JLC: Looks like muscle. Did he say last time that he’d started doing weights?

CKR: Yeah. Something to do with the rugby.

JLC: He didn’t give up his thing with the weird club, did he?

CKR: The hurley? No chance. Hey Ro!

(adding participant: Nolan III, R.H.)

RHN: Hey yourself. I see you two are busy with your usual pastime of watching the rest of us live out our little antlike lives far below.

CKR: Yeah. Pull up a rock. …Weren’t busy, were you?

RHN: Just finished a job. Nothing exciting.

JLC: This from the man who said Taking In The Sea was no big deal. Don’t think I didn’t just see your precis update.

CKR: What’s he done now?

JLC: Here, check this out.

CKR: (pause) Did you just cause an earthquake?

RHN: Just a wee titchy one. Maybe some plates fell down off shelves in Howth… no worse than that. CalTech and the USGS’ll have it for their records if anyone gets suspicious.

CKR: …Nice. What did the people on the ferry think?

RHN: Mostly ‘Feck are we glad that this very localized tsunami came up and pushed us ashore at Ringsend without destroying our ship much.’

CKR: Jeez. What the hell are your power levels doing?

RHN: Still having some peak swings secondary to my roomer, that’s all. Suits me fine. At least I get something useful out of having him in my head moving the furniture around all that while.

CKR: Well, wow, you did good.

RHN: I guess. Ta much.

JLC: I’m just wondering how they’re going to explain it the rest of the way. That quake won’t have been enough.

RHN: Don’t be daft. It’s Ireland. We’ll blame it on the weather.

JLC, CKR: (laughter)

RHN: So what was this big thing you needed to talk to me about?

JLC: Not that big. Need some input, though.

RHN: About?

JLC: A discussion we were having.

RHN: Oh?

JLC: We were talking about making out.

(pause)

RHN: …Uh.

(break in record) (record resumes)

RHN: Yeah, so you were telling me why you need me for this.

CKR: Well. It was a question of semantics, first.

RHN: Let me get this straight. You asked me to come up from Dublin… to the Moon… to discuss semantics. Of kissing.

JLC: Not just semantics. I want to review some material, and I was hoping you’d sanction it.

RHN: Sanction what?

JLC: Instant replay. …Well, not instant.

RHN: You lost me.

JLC: Remember when we kissed?

RHN: (pause) Which answer won’t make one of you clock me upside the head with a moon rock?

JLC, CKR: (laughter)

RHN: What the feck brought this on?

JLC: A difference of opinion.

CKR: Nosiness.

RHN: Uh, not feeling safe about this whole line of enquiry now, but moving on regardless…

JLC: It’s okay. See, there’s a recording…

RHN: Of us kissing? Not possible.

JLC: Not a recording as such. Except insofar as the universe passively records everything that happens inside it…

RHN: …You’re telling me we’re living inside the One’s Sky Plus box.

JLC: (pause) What?

CKR: TiVo.

JLC: Oh.

RHN: Seriously, you’re telling me you can play it back somehow?

JLC: Not playback exactly but—

RHN: Hey science queen, telling me what it’s not like is wasted effort. The direct approach, please.

JLC: Well, going by Dairine’s explanation, it’s got something to do with hyperstring structure and the Theory of Everything.

RHN: Oh please.

JLC: No, that’s what I thought at first. It’s a real term, though. This technology, it’s something the Mobiles have been implementing: this big project they started. She got all bogged down in technical stuff I didn’t understand, but it sounded like she—

RHN: Whoa whoa whoa, wait just a moment, did we hear history being made right here before us on this dusty rock? Did Miss Juanita Louise Callahan—

JLC: Dead, Ronan, you are about to be discorporated before your time.

RHN: —actually admit to not understanding some kind of technical stuff?

JLC: I really will kill you, you do understand that? You want to make history, fine. First human being to be killed on the Moon. You mentioned rocks? Let’s try this one, it looks good—

CKR: Oh God.

RHN: (laughter) It’s pumice. Who the feck do you think you’re gonna kill with pumice?

JLC: Oh it is not pumice, please, are you blind?—some kind of basalt, probably got kicked up here out of one of the maria by an impact, and maybe it’s about to have another of those! Dairine never told you about the L word, she knows her life would be too short. It was Carmela, wasn’t it, how can she, oh God why can she not just keep her—

RHN: Not Carmela. Someone else. Too bad, your secret’s out for all the world to hear….

(SFX: rock being pounded against larger rock)

JLC: Aaaaaggghhh!

RHN: Feel better now?

JLC: No. And when I recover my composure—

RHN: Always an entertaining exercise, there are nuclear weapons with shorter fuses—

CKR: Will you two shut yourselves up for two seconds?

(pause)

CKR: Thank you. Jeez. … ‘It sounded like she’ what??

JLC: (pause) Uh. Like what the Mobiles were talking about was making this sort of gigantic backup.

RHN: What of?

JLC: Everything wizardly apparently.

RHN: So how is the two of us kissing wizardly?

JLC: Well, we’re both wizards!

RHN: Oh, give me a break! There had to be, I don’t know, thousands of wizards kissing right then!

JLC: But probably only one who had the One’s Champion living in his mental basement at the time. Which makes it really of historical interest, I think.

RHN: Not ‘historical’ as in banging me in the head with a rock, I take it.

JLC: Don’t assume you’re safe yet. Anyway, parts of the explanation were way beyond me. In fact I think they were kind of beyond Dairine, or she hadn’t really spent much time getting her head around them. Because sometimes she made it sound like the Mobiles were trying not just to back up everything wizardly, but just… everything.

RHN: Everything?

JLC: In the universe.

RHN: What…? All the information?

CKR: Or all the thought?

RHN: All the matter?

JLC: I think maybe all those.

(pause)

CKR: …How in the One’s name do you back up everything?

JLC: I have no idea. I keep meaning to ask her about it, but she’s not home a lot right now, and other stuff keeps happening…

CKR: You’d have to make a whole new universe…

RHN: So anyway! This recording…

CKR: Wow.

JLC: Seems like wherever there’s a manual, it makes a kind of imprint or marker on local space, and this kind of record can be made.

RHN: But no one can see it.

JLC: Only the participants, if they give consent. And anybody else they consent to allow to see it.

RHN: Seriously.

JLC: Yeah.

(pause)

JLC: Well?

(pause)

RHN: How are you about this?

CKR: She told me about it.

RHN: Not the kissing itself. I know she told you about that. And anyway, you know I already knew you knew.

CKR: Oh God, stop, too complicated already. So?

RHN: If she’s okay with it, I’m okay with it.

CKR: Okay.

RHN: You sure?

CKR: Look, why do you keep asking me? I didn’t kiss you.

RHN: Maybe that’s a shame. Maybe you don’t know what you’re missing.

CKR (to JLC): Maybe you want to hand me that rock.

JLC: (laughter)

RHN: So what do we have to do?

JLC: Nothing. It’s here, in the manual. It heard you: the permission’s in. It’s cued up. Now we just roll it. Ready?

RHN: Yeah.

CKR: Yeah.

[ERROR: Permissions failure. Secondary playback is embargoed in this format due to insufficient permissions level or number. Please check your permissions module and try again.]

CKR: Would you pause this a minute? …You know, this is kinda weird.

RHN: What, you mean sitting on the bloody Moon watching yourself in a porno?

JLC, CKR: (laughter)

CKR: This is not porn! These are just two people staring at each other in the dark!

RHN: After one of them slags me off with a flamethrower, yeah. God you were brutal.

JLC: Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.

RHN: Maybe for you. I was kinda raw at that point.

CKR: You? Admitting to raw?

RHN: I don’t mind it now. It got better.

CKR: Anyway, how is it porn when all you’ve got here is two people just sort of looking at each other longingly with their tongues hanging out?

JLC: Cut it out! There were no tongues.

RHN: But I think I see what you mean about the weirdness.

CKR: (laughter) What, besides you thinking it’s porn?

RHN: No it is not porn, shut up, I concede the fecking point already. It’s what bothers me in bad TV shows. Where’s the camera?

JLC: I told you. There were manuals on site. No, I know, don’t start. Manuals or equivalent instrumentalities… your Knowledge thing. Where there’s a manual, or equivalent, there’s sort of a node that can make a record of what’s going on in local reality. It’s some kind of string structure business: pluck the string in one place, it vibrates somewhere else.

CKR: Oh God. Quantum mechanics again.

JLC: Yeah. Maybe the cats might be better to ask for the details: they work with strings on the gates all the time. They’d know.

RHN: Given a choice between asking Rhiow and asking your sister? Rhiow every time. Where were we again?

JLC: Watching us kiss.

[ERROR: Permissions failure. Secondary playback is embargoed in this format due to insufficient permissions level or number. Please check your permissions module and try again.]

CKR: So this doesn’t constitute making out?

RHN: Nope.

CKR: Meaning you weren’t thinking about doing anything more? Anything after?

RHN: (pause) Hadn’t crossed my mind. I was just kind of amazed that it was happening right then.

JLC: And not necking.

RHN: What?

CKR: Necking.

RHN: Haven’t heard the term.

JLC: Kissing for a long time.

CKR: Like in a car, when you’re parking. Or on the couch when nobody’s home.

RHN: Done much of that?

CKR: Oh please. I have two older sisters. You have no idea how glad I was when Helena finally went to college. Half the time when the parents were out, the living room sounded like, oh, God never mind. I’d nearly forgotten.

RHN: Parking?

JLC: Going somewhere scenic to neck.

CKR: Or make out.

RHN: The definitions are getting dangerously circular now. Better roll it again.

[ERROR: Permissions failure. Secondary playback is embargoed in this format due to insufficient permissions level or number. Please check your permissions module and try again.]

CKR: But there. See, you grabbed hold of him—

JLC: He started it.

RHN: I was falling off the fence.

JLC: Oh, and that’s my fault somehow.

RHN: Yes, yes it was. What? Would you rather I said, ‘No, she kissed me and it had no effect whatsoever, thanks for playing’? Look, here, here’s the rock! Talk among yourselves and sort it out. I’ll just sit here, don’t mind me.

(pause)

JLC: Let’s call it mutual.

RHN: Thank you very much. Continue.

[ERROR: Permissions failure. Secondary playback is embargoed in this format due to insufficient permissions level or number. Please check your permissions module and try again.]

RHN: Okay, it’s clear. Definitely not making out. It might be snogging. Timing’s pretty iffy, though.

CKR: What?

RHN: You saw the timer running. That didn’t even last thirty seconds.

JLC: Felt like longer.

RHN: Relativity. Ever heard of Einstein’s Stove? A snog is, like, three minutes minimum.

JLC: I’m not so sure.

RHN: How are you defining terms all of a sudden? Had you even heard that word before I used it just now?

JLC: Excuse me, I watch Dr. Who. He said he’d just snogged Madame Pompadour. That was even shorter than this. Ten seconds maybe.

RHN: Let’s keep the fictional characters out of this, shall we?

CKR: Um.

RHN: Besides, the other thing with a snog is that it’s more for pleasure. This was just both of us being freaked out, I think.

JLC: Well, yeah. You were so vulnerable. And kinda cute that way.

RHN: And you were all fierce even though you were unnerved. And kinda cute that way.

CKR: So…

RHN: Reassurance.

JLC: And experimentation.

RHN: Yeah. Comfort smooch, undifferentiated type.

JLC: With added One’s Champion. God was I shocked. Any comfort, boy, it went right out the window when I found out who else was in there.

RHN: Yeah, roll that. Kind of funny in retrospect.

[ERROR: Permissions failure. Secondary playback is embargoed in this format due to insufficient permissions level or number. Please check your permissions module and try again.]

RHN: (laughter) Janey mack, look at me go.

JLC: I’m so sorry… I really didn’t mean for that to happen.

RHN: Wasn’t you I was reacting to. The damn Spear: it was like having it stuck in your arse.

CKR: There’s an image I won’t soon forget.

RHN: I’ll be remembering it a lot longer, believe me.

(pause)

RHN: So what’s the verdict? Have we got consensus?

JLC: Comfort kissing.

RHN: Borderline snog at best.

CKR: But okay, not making out.

RHN: Great, he concurs. Are we done now? Can I go back to my humdrum life?

CKR: Oh, yeah, Mister 'I Made The Earth Move'!

RHN: The sea floor anyway. And don’t you forget it.

JLC: Can’t wait to see the write-up on that.

CKR: And the environmental impact justification they’re gonna make you file.

RHN: Which I am already late for, due to being called up to Lunar orbit for the absolute weirdest consult of my life. Thanks a million.

CKR, JLC: (laughter)

RHN: Always pushing the boundaries, you two.

JLC: You say that as if it’s a bad thing.

RHN: No. Not at all. Kind of what we do, isn’t it? But some of us excel.

CKR: That almost sounded like a compliment.

RHN: Don’t get cocky. I’ve got the rock. (pause) Anyway, I’m outa here. Had people to see before the damn ferry started taking water. They really have to find better technology for those doors.

JLC: Anybody I know?

RHN: Some of the chicken-shop crew.

JLC: Give them my best.

RHN: Will do. Dai stihó, you two. Stay out of trouble.

CKR: What are the odds?

RHN: Please. I know you too well. Oh Kit, don’t forget, schedule change on the Big Game next week.

CKR: I saw the calendar change. No problem.

RHN: Right. Later!

(pause)

CKR: That it?

JLC: Yeah. Save out.

Participants: Callahan, J.L., Rodriguez, C.K., Nolan III, R.H.