Spiders & Frogs (Mingi)
content warning: fluff; meet cute
Masterlist
word count: 1816
Some people are so scared of planes that they find themselves gripping the seat during takeoff and reaching for the courtesy vomit bag to dispel their lunch and liquid courage.
Others find themselves nauseated at the mere thought of being in a cramped space. In their minds, the walls close in or the crowd surges and they're left gasping for breath.
You were scared of spiders.
Scared was perhaps too forgiving a word for the way you folded in on yourself at the sight of those little eight-legged monsters. Your fear became public knowledge in school one day when you walked in to find your biology teacher had put a sheet over a terrarium. The previous week he'd done the same thing to show the class a snake. You liked snakes...you liked the way they squirmed on the ground like a piece of limp spaghetti, so you took a seat at the front of the class, expecting another slithering serpent to be the topic of discussion.
Your professor, clad in his tweed coat and corduroy trousers, yanked back the sheet with a grin. He looked far too kind for a man in possession of the biggest spider you'd ever seen.
Your chest immediately felt tight and you stared ahead, frozen in fear that the spider would break out of its cage and crawl over to you. It wasn't even the bite that made you afraid...it was their creepy legs and numerous eyes. It was the way they spun translucent webs, making their homes impossible to spot.
"This is the Goliath Bird-Eating Tarantula," your professor informed the class. "They can grow to be a foot long," he added.
Everyone gasped in curiosity just as you slipped out of your desk and passed out on the floor.
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6 years later
You were on what could only be described as the literal worst date ever. It was meant to have been at a coffee shop with a guy you met through a friend of a friend at work. Not only had he popped into your office 15 minutes late to pick you up, but he'd also taken you to the coffee stand across the street.
The last place you wanted to go on a date in the summer was standing outside drinking burnt $2 coffee, but there you were. The man had yet to ask a single question about you and was yammering on about stock prices, which you found to be an incredibly dull topic.
As if some omen for the future of your date, a spider crawled by on the counter, and you closed your eyes as you squealed and spun around, falling right into the open arms of a complete stranger.
"If you didn't want to go on a date you could've just said so," he huffed as he stormed back towards the office building.
"Is it gone?" you panicked, knowing you'd eventually have to apologize to the guy you'd crashed into, but too afraid to worry about that now.
"Yeah he just left," he promised in a quiet voice.
"No...not the guy, the spider." Your voice was shaky and as terrified as it had been the first time you'd seen one. "It was on the counter by the napkin dispenser," you added, making sure he could identify whether it had truly disappeared.
"It's gone," he assured you.
Those two words made it so you could finally breathe again. You pulled away in relief as you released all the tension your body had been holding. The stranger was still holding your arms as if unafraid to let you stand on your own...you would've tried to pull back but you felt the support was necessary given how wobbly your legs were. "Are you okay?" he asked.
You nodded and took in the man who had protected you. He was tall and handsome with a kind face and softened, warm brown eyes that were watching you intently. He answered someone you hadn't even heard, telling them that they could cut in front of him, and his voice was deeper than you'd realized...almost raspy.
"I'm sorry I turned into you like that," you apologized. "I sort of lose all sense of social etiquette when I see one of those things."
"It's alright," he smiled in reassurance, letting one of your arms go as you seemed more steady now. "Everyone's scared of something."
It was the nicest response he could've given to you for invading his personal space.
"You were on a date?" he asked, having overheard your colleague's complaint before he stormed off.
"Umm, yeah. A first date actually," you answered.
"A first date and he took you here? It's like 100°F out," he gaped in surprise.
You simply shrugged, having grown used to the minuscule effort the opposite sex put into dates.
"Would you let me treat you to something instead? I know a great cafe down the street," he offered. "They have the best lavender lemonade, but if you'd like iced coffee they have that too!"
"You're...you're asking me out?" you questioned in shock. "After the way I just embarrassed myself?"
He smiled and flashed a dimple at you, "I didn't think it was embarrassing. I actually thought it was kind of cute."
Your cheeks burned at the compliment. You usually felt so much shame after an arachnid-inspired panic attack, but he made you feel so comfortable...so normal. "I'm (Y/N)," you told him as you extended your hand for him to shake. Before a date, it was important to know their name.
"Mingi," he answered as he took your hand to lead you to the cafe, misreading that you'd only meant for it to be a handshake. It didn't bother you, though. Even as your palms grew sweaty from the summer sun, it felt nice to be held by him. You felt safe. If ever a man looked like a certified spider stomper, it was him.
"Do you work around here too?" you asked. Surely there was a reason he was in line for a caffeine pick-me-up at 2 in the afternoon.
"Yeah," he blushed shyly. "I own the flower shop up the street."
"Which one? I get flowers every week at a place called..."
"Song Bird," you said at the same time.
You looked at each other with amused faces of surprise. "I've never seen you there before," you said. "I'm there nearly every Saturday."
"I don't work on the weekends," he informed you. "Perks of being the owner."
You couldn't believe that someone so seemingly perfect had been just out of reach for so long.
"We actually have a partnership with this cafe to give them some of our flowers that don't sell to turn into syrups and teas. I know you'd been planning to get coffee, but trust me when I say this is a lavender lemonade kind of day."
And you did. You did trust him given that he'd saved you from a spider when he thought he was saving you from a date. He did both with ease and grace. He ordered for the two of you and returned with two cups that looked child-sized in his massive hands.
"So...all I know about you so far is your name and that you're afraid of the bug that shall not be named," he grinned.
"And all I know about you is your name and occupation," you teased. "If I were helping you with a W2 we'd be off to a great start."
He laughed so much that his dimple showed again, and you sipped your drink to distract yourself from staring at it. The flavor was a perfect balance of bitter and sweet, and the ice made it so refreshing for the type of weather you were experiencing. "This is really good!" you told him as you sipped some more of it.
"I'm glad you like it," he said as he leaned forward and brushed his thumb across the corner of your mouth. You were shocked by the move and sat completely still as he sucked it dry and turned to you, not having realized the effect his touch had.
"Shit. Sorry. Sometimes I do stuff without thinking," he murmured shyly while staring down at the tiles on the table and nervously tracing his fingers through the grout.
You didn't want him to feel bad for something that had simply caught you off guard, so you placed your hands on his.
"Tell me something else about you," you encouraged.
When his eyes met yours, they were wary but gentle. In the same way that you weren't used to being comforted for your fears, he wasn't used to being accepted for his. It was clear he had anxiety around his quick comfortability around strangers...but that was exactly how he'd been able to help you so easily.
"I got really into flowers when I was younger because I had a pet frog," he began. His eyes lit up as he told the tale of Sir Hopsalot who turned out to be a Miss Hopsalot. She wasn't his pet really as much as she was a wild bullfrog that lived near the pond in his backyard. He liked to bring her flowers to decorate her home, and learned quickly that she liked some more than others based on what she discarded in the water.
He wasn't certain if it was the smell, taste, shape, or color that determined the appeal, but he did his best to learn her interests and accidentally became knowledgeable in florals.
You could imagine little Mingi with his plastic bucket walking around his neighborhood pulling bluebells and hydrangeas. You could picture him sitting by the pond and waiting for the frog to show up to present his offerings for the day.
"I think that's the cutest story I've ever heard," you told him, not having realized just how wide you'd been smiling the whole time. He had an effortless way of making you so happy.
"I think the cutest will be when we tell people how we met," he grinned shamelessly. His eyes sparkled as he raised and sank his straw into his drink, letting the ice glide along the glass.
You appreciated his confidence. Sure it was only a first date, and he was already talking about the future, but it was attractive to have a guy who knew what he wanted.
"Can we change the spider to something a little less pathetic? Like maybe you saved me from a feral pigeon or something," you joked.
"Nobody would believe that," he said quietly, suddenly looking a little vulnerable as he looked around to see if anyone could overhear his confession.
"I'm afraid of birds."