#i also spent So much time doing research so. Please Clap

[gingerwerk]

helter skelter in a summer swelter

Sledgefu, Vietnam War/Roadtrip AU

In 1967, desperate to take part in his generation’s great war, nineteen-year-old Eugene Sledge defied his family to join the Marines, completely unaware that this decision would completely change the trajectory of his life. 

In 1973, twenty-five-year-old Eugene Sledge finally felt as if he were getting his life back together again when, after five years of silence, Snafu Shelton appeared on his doorstep in Brooklyn with a question: “You ever seen the Grand Canyon?”

Coming to an AO3 near you January 9, 2025!

[ahqkas]

Hey! Can you please write headcanons for Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim where they get jealous when reader ignores them for some other guy? (They haven't confessed to her yet because of their issues) The reader is also very oblivious to their feelings and doesn't understand why they are acting weird around her male friend. Thanks 😘

♯BABY COME HOME 2 ME . . . he’s jealous !! (fem!reader)

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce had perfected the skill of keeping his emotions under wraps, but when he saw you chatting animatedly with clark kent of all the people, his jaw tightened, and his usual stoic demeanor grew even colder. he didn’t say anything outright, but his silence became louder, his responses clipped and curt

he spent an unreasonable amount of time analyzing every interaction you had with the superman. he didn’t want to be jealous, but he couldn’t help dissecting your body language, the tone of your laughter, and how often you glanced in clark’s direction. the world’s greatest detective is undone by a simple smile exchanged between you and the man of steel

so he started subtly trying to one-up clark whenever you were around. If clark complimented your choice of book, bruce casually mentioned that he had donated an entire library to that author’s hometown. if clark suggested grabbing coffee, bruce offered to fly you to paris for the best croissant you’ve ever had (competitive much)

he became strangely territorial, appearing wherever you and clark happened to be. need help with research? bruce suddenly has all the resources at his disposal. want to attend a charity event? bruce personally invites you as his guest. his subtle possessiveness confused you, but he waved it off with a dismissive, “i was in the area.”

despite being oblivious, clark catches on pretty quickly. he teases bruce about his attitude, whispering, “you know, she’s just being friendly,” during a team meeting. bruce’s only response is an icy glare, but inside, he’s frustrated that even clark can see what he won’t admit

bruce started making dry, sarcastic remarks when clark’s name came up in conversation. when you mentioned how nice clark is, bruce grumbled, “nice? sure. but can he solve an international financial crisis in a single night?” you think he’s joking, but that man is 100% serious.

DICK GRAYSON

dick prides himself on being the laid-back, easygoing friend, but when he sees you laughing at one of wally’s cheesy jokes, something tightens in his chest. his usual smile falters for a fraction of a second before he forces it back into place. you don’t notice, but wally does, smirking knowingly

he starts teasing wally in a way that’s just a bit sharper than usual. “wow, wally, that story gets funnier every time you tell it,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. you laugh along, oblivious, but wally raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying dick’s discomfort

he becomes oddly competitive, especially when wally’s abilities are involved. if wally races ahead to grab you something, dick will casually say, “sure, he’s fast, but can he do this?” before doing some ridiculously impressive flip that leaves you clapping. he’ll shrug it off like it’s nothing, but he’s secretly watching to see if you’re impressed

dick starts overthinking every little interaction. did you laugh harder at wally’s joke than at his? does wally text you more often? he gets caught up in his own insecurities, wondering if maybe wally is a better fit for you—someone fun and carefree, without the baggage he carries

wally, ever the troublemaker, starts leaning into the situation. he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder or wink at dick while you’re not looking, just to see how far he can push him. dick plays it off with a tight smile, but his fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to yank wally’s hand away from you

at some point, wally corners dick with a smug grin, saying, “so, when are you going to tell her?” dick tries to deny it, but wally isn’t fooled. “come on, grayson. she’s oblivious, not blind. well, actually, she is blind to you, but that’s your fault.” dick groans, knowing wally won’t let it go, ever

later when you two actually get together, wally makes sure to get in the last word, casually saying, “took you long enough, grayson. you’re lucky i’m such a good wingman.” dick rolls his eyes, but for once, he doesn’t argue

JASON TODD

jason is naturally broody, but when he sees you laughing at one of roy’s jokes or leaning closer to hear him better, his usual scowl deepens. his arms cross tighter, his jaw clenches, and his responses become more gruff and sarcastic. you think he’s just annoyed in general, but roy knows better

he doesn’t want to feel jealous of roy—roy’s his best friend, after all—but he can’t help it. he knows his friend is charming and easygoing, and it eats at him that you seem to enjoy roy’s company more than his. he hates himself for the bitterness, but he hates how much he cares even more

he starts pulling away, telling himself it’s better to let you be happy than to deal with these feelings. he’ll find excuses to leave the room when you and roy are hanging out, claiming he has “important red hood business” or muttering, “you two don’t need me hanging around.” his absence feels colder than his usual aloofness :((

jason tries to compete with roy’s charm in his own way. he’ll offer to help you with things before roy gets the chance—fixing something in your apartment, teaching you how to defend yourself, or lending you his jacket when it’s cold. his gestures are quieter but filled with meaning, though you only see them as jason being his usual protective self

roy catches on to jason’s jealousy almost immediately and starts poking the bear. he’ll intentionally sit a little closer to you or tell stories that paint himself as the hero. jason’s glare darkens every time, and roy smirks like he’s won some unspoken game

his friend eventually pulls him aside, half-teasing, half-serious. “you’re going to scare her off if you keep growling like that, jaybird,” he says with a grin. jason denies it, grumbling, “she doesn’t feel that way about me, so what does it matter?” roy shakes his head, muttering, “you’re hopeless,” but decides to give you two some space

“took you long enough. it was written all over jaybird’s face.”

TIM DRAKE

tim isn’t the type to show his jealousy outwardly, so at first, he tries to brush it off. he tells himself he’s being irrational, but every time he sees you smiling at conner or laughing at one of his jokes, it’s like a knife twisting in his chest. he sits there, silently sipping his coffee, pretending it doesn’t bother him

instead of confronting his feelings, tim buries himself in work. whenever you and conner are together, tim conveniently has “important research” or “a mission to plan.” he thinks distancing himself will help, but in reality, he’s just overthinking the situation in the safety of the batcave monitors

tim’s usual polite demeanor starts to crack, and he can’t help throwing in a few passive-aggressive comments. if vonner makes a lighthearted joke about being a hero, tim mutters under his breath, “yeah, because we didn’t already know how amazing you are, conner.” you laugh, thinking tim’s just being witty, while conner gives him a confused side-eye

when you and conner are deep in conversation, tim randomly interjects with obscure facts or strategic insights to redirect your focus. “did you know the alignment of the stars tonight is perfect for an alien incursion? just saying.” you smile and ask him to elaborate, giving him a brief moment of relief that he has your attention again

conner, being tim’s best friend, catches on pretty quickly. he notices the way tim’s eyes linger on you a little too long or how his voice drops when you mention conner’s name. instead of teasing him outright, conner starts backing off slightly, giving tim room to shine

you start noticing tim’s strange behavior—his avoidance, his sudden snarky remarks about conner—and ask him what’s wrong. he insists it’s “nothing,” but the crack in his voice gives him away. still, he’s too guarded to admit what’s really bothering him

later after tim’s confession, conner gives him a playful nudge and a knowing grin. “see? told you she’d feel the same way. maybe now you’ll stop staring at her like a lost puppy.” tim groans, muttering something about how conner’s the real puppy, but he’s secretly relieved—and grateful—that his best friend had his back

after your heart-to-heart, tim’s confidence starts to grow. he’s still awkward at times, but he’s more willing to share how he feels, even if it’s in small, thoughtful gestures. and when conner teases him about finally making a move, tim just smirks, knowing he’s the one who has your heart

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work, please consider reblogging and / or commenting !! thank you if you do 🤍

[nixie-writes]

Being Adam's Daughter (both in life and in heaven)

I've run out of ideas someone please send something to my inbox + I need to keep this blog at least semi active somehow. I spent too long researching to write this please clap

-you were the only daughter to Adam and Eve. You were born into sin via Eve. You spent your entire childhood wishing you could visit the garden of Eden and see what was so bad about it that your mother had to eat the fruit of knowledge after God specifically told her not to.

-you were also very suspicious of your brother, Cain. Though you didn't know it, he showed wrath, envy and gluttony towards your brother, Abel. You, being born a woman, were raised to never question a man, especially not one older than you, so you never got in between their fights.

-then the day came that Cain killed Abel, the brother you were closer to. You witnessed the murder but your parents did not; you did as you were raised to do and didn't speak a word of what you saw. Cain threatened your life if you told them he had killed Abel, so you kept your mouth shut.

-as you lived your life you grew closer to God, closer even than Adam. You spent your days worshiping him, thanking him for every meal you ate, preaching to your parents about how good he was. Adam would always respond with something along the lines of, "hell yeah he's good, he made me!" and Eve would just smile.

-it was late one night when you saw your mother fall victim to the worst sin of all-debauchery with Lucifer himself. You caught her and Lucifer together, doing things you could never describe as the sweet little girl you were. You didn't understand the severity of it at the time but you ran back home and told your father that his wife and your mother was, in your words, "making friends" with the fallen angel who stole Adam's first wife, though you'd yet to have been told the story about Lilith yet.

-Adam stormed out and took you with him, you pointing him in the direction of Lucifer and Eve. He told you to wait behind a bush and he confronted Eve for sleeping with Lucifer. She wouldn't admit how many times she had done so. You were innocent and didn't understand the concept of "sleeping together", you were unsure why your father was so mad. He told Eve she was no better than Lilith, who you'd never heard of before and you suddenly had a lot of questions. Adam bid Eve his final goodbye and told her that if she ever came to him again he would kill her. You were stunned to hear this but seeing how you were raised, you didn't question it. It terrified you however.

-following your father home you asked him who Lilith was. Adam briefly explained that Lilith was his first wife, who refused to submit to him, and she fell in love with Lucifer and resided in Hell. In a rare moment of kindness he knelt to your level and placed his hands on your shoulders. "[Y/N], you're my only daughter and the only woman left in my life. Promise me, you'll never fall into the follies of sin," he spoke in a wavering voice. You understood how serious this was and nodded your head in agreement. He took you back to his hut, his hand in yours.

-you spent the remainder of Adam's life comforting him over the loss of Abel and Eve. You told him about how you saw Cain kill Abel and Adam sentenced Cain to live alone somewhere else, leaving only you and him. Throughout Adam's life on earth he always told you how much he loved you and how he expected to see you in Heaven when your time came.

-as time went by you never had any children, leaving that to other women God created. After learning the harsh reality of what your mother did you never wanted to risk falling in love with the wrong person, so you kept to yourself and became a traveling healer, helping those who were sick and hurt through God's will. You did this until you were around your middle ages, and God called you to Heaven. It was time for you to be with Adam.

-you were met by Sera, the high Seraphim. She told you your time had come, and you had been good enough to come to Heaven. You had done what your mother and brother failed to do, you lived a good and justified life and worked in God's mysterious ways. She brought your soul to Heaven.

-once you arrived in Heaven you saw how much of a dick Adam had become. He was proud, he was gluttonous and he was a jerk. He was always flaunting to the women in Heaven about how he was the first human soul to arrive there, likely to get them in bed with him. You were disgusted by it.

-when Sera brought Adam to the side and introduced you, his daughter, to him he was so stoked. "[Y/N]! You made it at last! That's daddy's little girl!" He rubbed your hair with his first and hugged you. He encouraged you to tell him what earned you a place in Heaven and you were proud to tell him of your years as a traveling healer and of how close you became to God. He was smiling the entire time.

-fast forward a little while, and the ranks of Hell were growing. Adam kept the extermination a secret from you, knowing it would break your sensitive heart to hear that countless souls who could have very well been your mother or brother, were being killed. His little secret was that he killed them both in the first extermination.

-as time went by you remained oblivious to the extermination, Adam never wanting you to know. But that fateful day came, when Adam told you he had to "take care of business", and promised you he'd be back later. He left with Lute, who you considered your true mother, and that was the last time you saw him.

-when Lute arrived back in heaven you rushed to her with glee in your eyes, asking where your father was. You were so excited to know what his business had been and if he'd carried out God's will. Your smile faltered when you noticed Lute clutching Adam's halo in her hand, her other arm missing entirely. Whatever had happened, had been serious. You begged her to let you heal her the best you could but she refused.

-with shame in her eyes she told you Adam died fighting and the last word he spoke was your name. She told you in detail about how she saw the light die in his eyes, his smile slowly falling as he bled out. She admitted to you about the yearly extermination and how he had made the decision to go back twice as fast to stop the hotel, which you had only heard whispers of.

-before Lute left to confront Lilith, she hugged you with her remaining arm and promised to take care of you the way Adam would have wanted her to, and that even though she could never replace him, she would do everything in her power to make you feel loved, wanted and accepted no matter what. She finished by telling you she had an errand to run, but when she was back she would give you Adam's halo to remember him by.

-you were in tears, clutching her remaining arm by the time she had finished speaking. All you could do is nod your head, too choked on tears to give a real response. You couldn't believe your father was dead and gone for good. Sniffling, all you could say at the end was, "thank you mom". Lute kissed your forehead and promised she would be back very shortly to give you his halo.

[sunshine-theseus]

Bia | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Words: 2.8k Summary: you create your own boots and meet the most beautiful girl  - sorry I also used this to info dump about the necessity for boots designed specifically for women to lower injury risks Warnings: none i think. lemme know if there are any requested by - @hottiedogs375 i hope you enjoy, it's probably not my best :( definitely not as good as pequeña i think

My family was more of a cricket family than a football one. I wasn’t really fond of either, the shouting was always too much, and the food was somehow sloppy yet rock hard at the same time. Even when we watched at home. The living room would be full of sweaty angry men, sometimes my mum and sister would join if our team was actually doing well. Meanwhile you’d find me in my room at the very back corner of the attic, my room, with headphones on to block out the noise, usually designing something.

Despite the cricket background, I found myself intrigued by the design of women’s football kits. In my design and technology class in year 13, I fell down a research rabbit hole on football boots for women. It was then I discovered the lack of adaptation for the shoe. Women often just wear smaller sizes of boots designed for men, which has been one of the factors in the increase in injuries in the women’s game and I’d decided I wanted to fix that.

That’s how I found myself in front of a crowd, made up of possible brand ambassadors and sponsors, as well as a range of women’s athletes from across the world, pitching my idea.

“And that’s why brands like Bia are important to the growth of women’s football. The shape of the boot, the length of studs, the sole support, they’re all contributing factors to how players perform. When women footballers use the men’s boots, which is basically the only option, they aren’t going to grow used to the details designed for male anatomy. It’s causing stress on not only their feet but every ligament, every bone, every piece of them is suffering because they have to try and adapt to things they can’t possibly adapt to.” I felt like the closing of my speech was rather strong, especially as I watched players and possible sponsors stand to clap. The noise echoes throughout the auditorium and a happiness bubbles within me.

“Thank you for providing me this opportunity. Please, if anyone has any questions.” I gesture to the stand-up microphone in the middle aisle, and people rush to line up.

“What made you intent on creating a boot specifically for women, risking money and time on something people have tried to do before? Something you knew wasn’t guaranteed to work?”

“I know it’s funny, but my family was not a football one, so I didn’t grow up knowing much about the game. But in my a-levels design and technology class, we had to research an issue prevalent in an existing design, and I for some reason was just drawn to the idea that women don’t even get the choice of having a boot made for them. I found it unfair and uncaring. Everyone expects women to play at the same level as men yet won’t provide them with the necessary equipment to do so without them having to risk, quite possibly their career. And I couldn’t just move on after the class, I knew that I had to do something about it. So I’ve spent the past 3 years perfecting the design and building the brand, to be here in front of you all today.” Another round of applause is heard throughout the room before the next person steps up.

She’s a footballer, that I know. Young, no older than 21, my age. And very very pretty.

“This question probably isn’t quite as important as that one but, what made you pick the name Bia? It just seems like an interesting name.” people chuckle at the question, and the (newly discovered) Australian shyly looks around.

“No, I love this question. Bia is the Greek goddess of force and raw energy. She’s actually Nike’s sister, the goddess of victory and very obviously the brand. I think Bia resembles a lot of things within female athletes. They have this driving force and unbelieve power that they bring, and it just felt so right.”

“That’s sick. Can I also quickly ask, sorry, are these boots made for every female athlete? Like can someone in track and field use these or are they just for footballers?” the girl smiles brightly after her question, and I have to remember not to lose focus.

“While the primary focus is obviously footballers, I have researched the compatibility of boots between sports and yes, a professional sprinter like Sharika Jackson can use them just as well as you or Alexia Putellas could. And of course as the brand grows we’ll be able to develop even further and broaden our research further in creating boots fit for anyone.”

-

Questions carry on for a while, then I disappear behind the curtain that’s suspended behind me, rushing to remove my microphone. Eventually I slide out the side door and reach the separate room booked for ‘mingling’ after the panel.

Between talking to rich people desperate to make it seem like they care about others, and athletes who are very eager to know everything they can about the shoe, I try to keep an eye out for the nameless Australian. Every time I think I’ve spotted her; it seems she disappears. Bodies keep moving and she seems to be one of them.

Then I bump into someone. We both go stumbling but she catches me just before I head for the floor.

“I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” And there she was, the girl I’d been looking for.

“No, no need to apologise. I’m Y/n.” I give her a hand to shake.

“Kyra.” There’s a pause before she continues.

“I’m a big fan of your boot. It’s truly incredible.” It’s hard not to blush and sputter out random sounds at her praise.

“Thank you. I’m really hoping this function works out.”

“Well I was thinking, when it does, if you need ‘a face of Bia’…”

“Oh my god yes that would be amazing. Seriously you have no idea how cool that would be.”

We talk for quite some time, and she sticks by my side when someone else comes to talk and ask question. When it’s time to go home we exchange numbers and that’s the first and last time I see her for a while.

-

5 months later is the next time I see Kyra in person. We’d both been travelling a lot, me for sponsors, ambassadors, and athletes, her for work. I’d expected to meet with her a few more times before we kick started the ‘face of Bia’ photoshoots, but as the fates had it, we found ourselves in a large warehouse, photo equipment, and many boxes of my shoes filling the space.

It suddenly all started to feel very real, and that made me nervous. So I packed myself into a small room in the corner as I tried to calm down, hoping the isolation and quiet would help me feel better.

Not even 2 minutes in, someone is following and taking a seat next to me.

“You right?” the voice is familiar and smooth.

“Yeah, yeah of course I am. It’s not like the biggest thing I’ve ever worked for in my life is basically in its final stage of release in the next room and I’m freaking out about it. What if they aren’t actually good? What if th-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You sent me a pair 2 months ago, and I told you I would test them before saying anything, and I did just that. I took them to training. Ran on the pitch, walked, kicked the ball, passed, made risky moves. And what did I tell you after that?”

“‘These are the best fucking shoes ever.’ But what if they aren’t?”

“Listen Y/n, how many other athletes, not just me or footballers, did you send a pair to for testing?”

“Like 43. Basically every one that came to the panel plus some more.”

“How many told you they were good?”

“43.”

“Exactly. So we’re going to go out there together, you’re gonna tell the photographer what you want to see, every opinion, every change, anything, and we’re going to finalise your fucking dream.” Kyra picks me up without me even agreeing, and basically carries me out to the set up.

Ali Kreiger, despite her recent retirement, was currently being photographed. She’d been the one to reach out to me when she heard from, someone, and wanted to be an ambassador. I probably screamed so loud my neighbours thought I was getting murdered that day.

“They’re going to want a couple photos of you too probably. Either with the shoes or with one or all of us. Okay?” Kyra rubs a hand up and down my back as I take it all in.

I nod vigorously and try to shake my hands to get rid of the remaining nerves, eventually taking a seat next to the photographer, Eve. She asks for my input on every shot and manages to carry out my vision without fail every single time. As players filter in and out, I begin to truly relax and allow myself to take in the moment.

Zimmorlei Farquharson and Poppy Boltz, two AFLW players for the Brisbane Lions, were being photographed together when Kyra slid into the spare chair next to me. She didn’t say anything but when I looked over, I had to quickly look away again. Her outfit wasn’t something out of the ordinary, a loose cropped top and bike shorts, plus the sage green boots she was promoting. But the strip of skin that was exposed between her shirt and shorts was enticing and it was hard not to stare at the way her muscles contracted every time she moved in the seat.

I’m certain she caught me staring.

As she stands to take over the Australian Football players, Kyra leans over and whispers in my ear. It takes me a moment to process her words and by then she’s already under the lights.

“Good thing we’re taking some pictures. They’ll last longer.” To say I was stumped was a rather big understatement. Was she flirting with me?

I don’t get to think about it too much, Kyra looking my way every time she changed position or began to play around with the ball provided.

Not long after, I’m asked to join all the girls in front of the camera for a few shots. I knew it was coming but my heart still dropped into my stomach, and I choked on my breath. As expected, it’s Kyra who grabs my hand and instructs me to breathe slowly. Her thumb runs over the back of my hand and the motion begins to sooth me.

I take a place in front of the camera and the group of athletes. I’m not quite sure how to stand, but Kyra takes the space behind me, resting an arm over my shoulder and the other around my waist. It forces me to lean back naturally and as the girls around us take a stance, Eve continues to shoot.

“You and Kyra have a lot of chemistry by the looks of it, and she’s who you’re most comfortable with. Use that. Make it natural. The girls around you will adapt.” I expect the comment from Eve, but it’s Ali who puts a hand on my shoulder and reassures me.

With that instruction, and a nod from Eve, Kyra jumps on my back. It’s a pose that helps with showing off the boot and making me laugh. She then jumps off and takes my hands, turning me to face her as she dips. I rush to catch her as she falls, our faces a hair width apart.

Before I can think, I close the gap. My lips press hard against her’s as the camera shutter repeatedly goes off, but I don’t think anything of it. Until I pull away.

I almost drop her once my thoughts catch up to me.

“I am so sorry. What the fuck did I just do?” the rest of the girls had already walked away, so it was just us.

“Nothing you should regret or feel bad for.” Kyra stands right in front of me, our lips basically touching again.

“And maybe you should do it again.” I pause for a moment before leaning back down, kissing her again.

~~~~~

It takes three more weeks for the official brand release. After years of designing, making, spending every cent I had on these boots, Bia was officially the first woman specific sports boot.

Kyra’s first Arsenal game wearing them was the day of the release. She ended up talking about them in post-match interview after being asked “how were you excelling so well in the midfield today?” Not only was Bia’s sale numbers skyrocketing and the media account blowing up, so was my own.

I’d of course attended the match, excited to see them as an officially released boot. Someone had spotted me in the crowd and tweeted about it, talking about ‘the creator of that new boot brand is watching Kyra rep them for the first time live’. Someone else had caught me hugging Kyra on the pitch after the game and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

The rumours could only be expected. They also couldn’t be denied. Not without lying.

“I’m so proud of you.” The smooth Australian accent almost lulls me to sleep as we rest in Kyra’s bed, the sheets hiding our bare skin.

Her fingers trace shapes on my hip as she holds me, and I kiss along her collar bones and neck.

“And also very, very grateful for your genius brain creating those boots. Not only for helping my game play, but for bringing you to me.”

“I’m also grateful for my genius brain bringing us together.” I tease before softly kissing her.

It’d been impossible to escape her charm after our kiss at the photoshoot, so naturally we went on a date. And another, before she asked me to be her girlfriend. Eve sent me those photos just in case we wanted them in the brand release post. They currently sat in my hard drive, but it was very tempting to post a couple.

Kyra wanted a moment of privacy before the world knew, but I knew it didn’t matter whether it was out or a secret, as long as I had her.

-

A new power couple is on the rise in the world of Women’s Football. Creator of new women’s sports boots brand Bia, Y/n L/n, spotted with girlfriend, Arsenal and Matildas midfielder Kyra Cooney-Cross at a café in North London this morning before the London Derby. The couple confirmed their relationship mere days ago with photos of the lovebirds kissing from L/n’s brand shoot.

I laugh at the article as Kyra pulls into the Emirates parking, hand in mine. I’d become rather acquainted with her teammates and they begged me to come to the London Derby on the weekend. I couldn’t refuse when my girlfriend pulled out the puppy dog eyes and promised to ban me from any sort of affection, specifically kisses, for the week.

“You better win. I have a bet going with Niamh that you’ll beat her and I cannot lose a bet against her again.” Kyra chuckles and leaves with a kiss, sending me into the friends and family section of the stands.

It was nerve wracking going alone, but it was for Kyra and that was all I cared about. Supporting her like she supported me.

-

Kyra doesn’t start, which had been expected. Despite it, the girls were playing well and were up 3-1 at half-time. No yellow cards for either team had most people shocked though. The derby was known to be rough and physical, yet it seemed things were rather calm for the situation at hand.

There’s a substitute at half-time that puts Kyra back on the pitch. I blow a kiss when she looks my way as she jogs out and she pretends to catch it and place it on her cheek. Both of us are unaware of the interaction being caught on the big screen while people wait for the countdown.

It’s when extra time is announced that everyone in the stadium knows Arsenal have won the game. The Chelsea players look tired and defeated and the Arsenal girls don’t look much different, apart from the massive smiles that grace each one of their faces. The final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts in deafening cheers for the gunners, and I can’t help joining in.

After congratulating the blues on their performance and huddling with her own teammates, Kyra comes running for me. The guard on the other side of the barrier grows wary when I stand, clearly about to jump it, but Kyra gives him the okay and grabs me by the waist, helping me join her on the pitch.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” I whisper as she stands on her tippy toes.

Her arms wrap tightly around my neck and mine go around her waist as she pulls me in for a kiss. It’s deep and passionate and the crowd around us cheers, some of the girls joining in.

“We’re both kinda killing it aren’t we?” I let out a laugh as she hops on my back, pointing me in the direction of her Matilda’s teammates, even Sam, who are grouped in the middle of the field.

She sprinkles kisses around my face as they talk between each other and I’ve never felt more content.

Fuck cricket, football is the sport for me.

[marciaillust]

How long does it take for you to finish drawing?

I'm an artist (beginner) and i unconsciously set unrealistic goals for myself and need a reminder of how long it takes to complete a drawing, Thanks.

Hi! In the context you presented it in, that is a really interesting question, so I'll try to approach it thoroughly. I hope I won't make you roll your eyes too much.

Where to start, where to start... I guess the first thing I should say is that there is a difference between time I spend preforming the action of <drawing>, and the time I spent <working> on a particular piece. The first would be counted in hours, the second one - days. I'm a big believer in slowing things down, and giving things time - going through options, gathering research and references, taking breaks every 1h of sitting and drawing - and seeing things through until I achieve the goal I set at the beginning of the process.

The goals are usually different each time: "quick design", "character exploration", "analysis of an artist's linework and experimenting with the knowledge gained", "creating an aesthetically pleasing image", and so on and so forth. Of course I don't write these down like it's a school assignment, but knowing in the back of my head what I'm actually doing helps me manage my expectations. I also enjoy being conscious of why I create - when I was younger regardless of what I was doing I had the thought "AND IT MUST LOOK GOOD AND PRESENTABLE! BECAUSE PEOPLE WILL LOOK!" ...and I think that obsession is the cancer of creative process.

Since the goals for each picture are different, the time I'll spent on achieving each one will be different as well, because the "satisfactory results" lay in different places. For example, the Marcile sketchpage was created in one afternoon, and took approximately 3 hours. The goal was to play around with a brush that has no opacity forcing my lines to be more decisive. I did that and so it is "finished". There's nothing else I want from it.

On the other hand, the cover of Asterism took about 10 days to create, the goal of which was to make "an aesthetically pleasing cover picture taking colour inspiration from the works of (specific list of artists)". I took my time designing it so that it looks aesthetically pleasing, made sure the anatomy is "correct" (a nebulous statement when it comes to stylised humans), took my time masking, and picking colours, and shading. I wanted it to "look good" to my own eyes so if something was not working I would go back, change it, alter it, move it around... that's the wonderful thing about personal art, you can take as long as you like making something satisfactory.

The funny thing is, with what the Asterism cover actually is (a cellshaded image), it could have been done probably in 4 days by the me 4 years ago. But that person was willing to sit 8-10 hours a day to draw with no breaks, she had little social life, and treated herself as a little circus seal performing tricks so that people clap around her, and the clapping was soooo nice because it meant that people remembered her and she mattered. And it worked for her! For long 10 years! Until her arm gave out, and the reality of never being able to draw again became more tangible than ever, and it's been following her like a fog ever since for the past 4 years. The me today works about 4 hours a day and every hour I take about a 30 minute break. I also don't post half the stuff I draw. There is also another aspect that dictates the speed of creating and that is familiarity with the subject matter. The less you know something, the fast you'll draw it! But as you get to know the intricacies of the process, and see all the building blocks, it will start taking *longer* because you will start accounting for every block. But then you'll eventually get familiar with the blocks and so the time spent on a picture will go down again! The cool yet overwhelming thing about art is that, there are always hundreds of building blocks. Form, composition, ambient occlusion, saturation, hue, light balance, line form...... and those are just the *some* of the generalised *categories*. And each category will have it's own subsection of building blocks! And then those blocks will interact with each other to create completely new area of expertise! This is crazy! Marcille sketch page took me only 3 hours to create because I am already quite familiar with linework - I have drawn 3-4 comicbooks worth of linework. This also means I am familiar with believable anatomy, more or less, which got utilised in the Asterism cover - the main bulk of linework got created during a 3h livestream. So.... what's the answer.... "It's all relative" is so unsatisfactory and probably not what you looked for. But you can draw something in 3 days and kill your body over it. Or you can become an expert in a field and dish the same picture out effortlessly in 8 hours. You can also split that 8h block over multiple days bringing you back up to 3 days. You could even add a whole day of visual research which might make your picture only marginally better. And even if we calculate it in terms of raw working time, pen-to-paper, like a self-inflicted capitalist tumor, that time can fluctuate still due to personal visual library and knowledge base. If I asked Tom Fox how long it takes for him to create his sketch pages his answer would probably be downward of 30 minutes. Yet I need whole 3 hours to create something *less* anatomically correct than him. And so here we are at the end of this perhaps unnecessary essay. And all we learned is this: it depends. Dry, not nuanced tl;dr, my personal timings: single sketch - 30mins; single linework pic 1-2h; Cellshaded illust - 16h; Rendered illust: 20-25h.

[maxislvt]

Would you write reader x cheerleader!wanda where it’s her first time and although she’s mean at the start she’s all soft and cuddly by the end 🥰🥰

warnings: pet names (pup, mutt, pet), degradation, praise, reader has a penis but no gendered terms, loss of virginity, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of birth control, have fun with this mega cock I gave you on accident

"You brute! Can you at least pretend to know what you're doing?" Wanda hissed as her back hit the bed. She would've bounced back up if it weren't for you already on top of her. "Your hands are sweaty, calm down!" She wrapped her arms around your neck. Her eyebrows shot up at the feeling of something hard poking against her."Are you hard already?"

A blush spread across your face in embarrassment. "Sorry, sorry! You're just really pretty and I'm nervous…" The sweat on your palms was almost thick enough to rub off and stain your girlfriend's uniform. For a moment, you just sat there. Staring down at your girlfriend with the biggest tent in your shorts. You couldn't think. If you did, it was only about how pretty she looked in her uniform. "Wait, uh, are you sure about doing this in your uniform? I don't wanna get it…y'know dirty."

"I don't remember saying you'd be pulling out," Wanda said firmly before pulling you into a harsh kiss. She grinded against your bulge making you whimper and squirm. It quickly turned into a game of chase. Her hips would roll forward only for yours to twitch and move away. Wanda let out a frustrated groan and wrapped her legs around your waist. "If you keep moving away, I'll leave you with blue balls!" Wanda wasn't always so cruel during intimate moments, but this one was supposed to be special. Taking each other's virginity was a big deal and she wanted it to be perfect. It couldn't be that when you were seconds away from running with your tail between your legs. "Just sit still."

"I don't know what to do! You being mean isn't helping that!" In your frustration, you forgot how poorly Wanda responded to your talk back. Mostly because it was uncharacteristic of you, but also because she couldn't stand it. To Wanda, you were like a lap dog and good dogs don't talk back to their owners. She didn't even give you time to apologize before rolling you over. Part of you wanted to clap back at her for her aggression, but she was already pulling your shorts down before you caught your breath. "Fuck, that feels good."

Wanda hummed with the tip of your dick in her mouth. You were far too big for her inexperienced mouth, but she just needed you to be wet enough for it not to hurt. It was embarrassing to admit, but she'd done a lot of research. Wanda spent a near unreasonable amount of time learning to handle you in bed. "I bet the whole school would flip if they knew their star player was a sex hungry mutt."

You shivered, but managed to keep your hips still. It always confused you why Wanda's cruelty was so arousing. Sure, you preferred her gentle kisses and soft praise, but none of that mattered when your precum was smeared on her lips. "I'm not- fuck- I'm not like that! I just want you, I swear." The thoughts were practically melting out of your ears as Wanda continued to suck you off. Her mouth took more of you as she swallowed down your innocence. "Can I touch you, please? I-I don't know what to do with my hands."

Wanda's tough act could never stand a chance against you. You were much too sweet and kind. She released your dick and sighed. "You can hold my hands, but I'm in control. Got it?" She kissed your cheek and positioned herself over your tip. "Next time we're using lube," She whispered. Just your tip alone felt like she was splitting apart. "Hold my hips, come on…" Wanda wrapped her arms around your neck as she slid down your length. "Fuck, wait hold on."

You held onto Wanda like your life depended on it. "You're so tight," You mumbled into the side of her neck. The smell of her shampoo filled your nose and helped you relax. "We can…we can stop if you want. I know it's…big." Being inside Wanda felt heavenly, but you were afraid to hurt her. "We can do it another way- wow!" Wanda had pushed you back down on the bed and began riding you. "Ah, please don't hurt yourself."

Wanda gritted her teeth and forced herself to push through the pain. She reached behind her back and held your hands. "Don't stop me, I'll get used to it." Her breathing faltered, but she continued to move her hips. Her light moans soon joined yours and reverberated across the room. "Fuck, I can feel it throbbing inside me." Tight walls clenched around you, desperate to squeeze every last drop of cum out of you.

"Wanda, I think…fuck I think I'm gonna cum," You wiggled and attempted to pull out, but Wanda's pace was unyielding. "No, seriously! Ah!" She leaned forward, letting you slip deeper inside her. The feel of her heavy breast on top of your chest sent you over the edge. Despite your best efforts, your cum painted the insides of Wanda's cunt. It was the best orgasm you ever had, but the consequences immediately flooded your brain. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm sorry I didn't mean to!" Wanda continued to jump against you until her own orgasm overcame her.

"God, fuck. Don't worry about it," She painted before going limp on top of you. "I'm on the pill. Just relax, being full feels nice." Wanda peppered kisses over your face and nuzzled into your chest. "Just be a good pup or I'll make you wear a collar to practice." Normally, you would've freaked out about your guilty pleasure leaving the walls of Wanda's bedroom. You just relaxed and let out a deep breath.

You wrapped your arms around Wanda and let the sleepiness overcome you. "...Can you stay on it? I liked not using a condom…"

"If you can give me another round, I'll consider."

[larnax]

outer worlds things i like so far

game does a very good job of the feeling of discovering something that is absolutely fucking terrifying. very clear feedback. im like hmm i wonder what happens if i do X and outer wilds IMMEDIATELY tells me that i have fucked up terribly and am now doomed to slowly asphyxiate in space

in general one of the best "games that initially seems very homey and comfortable and then rockets into horror" because it builds to it at a very natural speed. you get enough of timber hearth to get comfortable with the protagonist's home and then you lift off and probably discover a couple weird things but you're so preoccupied with everything being confusing that it doesn't hit you and by you i mean me that you're in a horror game until The Sun. and even when you ARE fully aware you're in a horror game and you know enough to get to the scary spots the comfortable world doesn't disappear. you can still find the other explorers on the world and have a comfortable place to rest. they always come back and you're constantly reminded that all these things exist in the same universe. which also makes it so much worse that you can't save them.

obv the environmental design is really good. the planets are big enough that you need to know where you're going but small enough that it feels like my fault i am literally always lost. i do wonder how the timber hollow people grow their food though. where are the sugar canes for the marshmallows....

same vein open world that's big enough to feel like there's a lot there but not so big that most of it's filler. big little world

clapping my hands like a fucking seal for the worldbuilding i love the nomai writing system it's so cool and the creative uses of the quantum crystals for architecture are so awesome. the foreshadowing in the museum is still my favorite though

the shuttle that just wastes your fucking time is really funny. i spent so long finding ways to kill myself trying to use it. very mean but i respect it

as a deep sea life fan i wanna be a hater so bad and say that anglerfish imagery is overplayed and them being the deep sea creature everyone and their mother uses for horror and how about you do some actual research and find a marine animal that has an interesting trait you can use for unique imagery..... but i must reluctantly admit. that the implementation. is extremely bad ass. and so i'm fine with it

things im not a huge fan of

i am on my fucking knees begging please just let me mark a spot where i am standing on my map. please. i know where the hanging city is i need to get to the specific spot in the hanging city where my thing is. would it be that gamebreaking for me to just be able to mark the location of the tiny entrance into the meltwater district. you don't even have to give me more than one.

not very robust accessibility stuff. the janky controls are intentional but an option for a slightly bigger margin of error for stuff like getting into/falling out of the elevators would really help for us shaky-handed bitches out there. also there are a lot of flashing lights including an unavoidable section every single time you die.

[plaindangan]

Junko~? Who can survive the longest before surrendering to your MASSIVE cake butt?! Mukuro, ryoko, or a really busy yasuke.

Disclaimer: Below is content that's more on the racy side! If not for you, you probably shouldn't read!

"Puhuhuhu!~ So you really wanna know which of those three could ever hope to stack up, hm? Thankfully, I'm a step ahead of you on this one" Slapping her meaty, jiggly, ass (taking pride as it shook so enticingly. Switching to her depressed state, she signed and clapped her hands. "I didn't have much going for me that day so I took the liberty of going about the experiment myself and even filming it a bit..."

From the walls, a television screen emerged. Firstly displaying a scene of Junko in the youngest triplet's room, in nothing but a ruby red thong, pushing her caked up backside up in poor Ryoko's face. The analyst seemed to try, she really did, but with how Junko seemed to pride herself in making things difficult by really grinding and rubbing her doughy cheeks into the woman's face, it was only natural that Ryoko would tap out soon after about three minutes. (Tapping out in this case, being smacking Junko's bottom as fast and hard as possible. Granted, being this is Junko, whenever she decided to move was probably a little later than what the other party hoped for).

The scene then shifted to Yasuke, who was originally going back and forth inside of his office, scrambling to get his papers for his next research project in order. So one can imagine how he reacted when Junko, being devious bitch incarnate, pretty much tackled him out of nowhere and began facesitting him.

"MMMMMPHHHHHHHHH!!! JHMNMKPHHHH!!" Muffled, annoyed, screams bellowed out from underneath his pale, sweaty, jelly prison, but Junko continued to ignore him in favor of at least organizing his papers. After all, if Yasuke kept this up then he'd probably pass out arouuuuund......huh. About seven minutes? A bit more than she expected, but he really spent quite a while just yelling his heart out. Poor thing!~ After ensuring his work was in order, she got up, gave him a nice peck on the cheek and happily sauntered out.

Finally, there was Mukuro...and boy did Junko not look happy in this one. She had caught Mukuro bench pressing in the gym and had quietly plopped down on her face as she held the bar up. At first, the trickster was quite pleased, betting that Mukuro was in quite the bit of despair of having both her oxygen on a time limit and trying to steady herself to not drop the weights....at least that's what she thought. Five minutes....fifteen minutes....twenty-five minutes....thirty fi-!? Argh!!! Junko even took the time to do her past shtick of rubbing her bottom against Mukuro's face or bouncing on it a bit!! Giving her some temporary relief...and taking that away just as quick!! Nothing! She wasn't quitting or passing out!! Annoyed she got up and glared at Mukuro.

"Seriously, how the Hell do you make suffering under moi's ass boring as shit!? What gives!!" Taking a few moments to relish that sweet, sweet air, a blushing Mukuro gently sat the bar and got up.

"Ah, well....stuff like this isn't too uncommon in Fenrir." Well, kind of. She never had to worry about a sweaty ass being the one to restrict her breathing like this. Admittedly, some part of her also enjoys this kind of treatment...but best not to say that part out loud.

"Ugh, of course a pervy musclehead like you picked up something like that! Again, even your weird skills are a disappointment. To make up for this, you're doing the same thing to Makoto once we leave, got it!?"

"E-e-eh!? I-I, I...." knowing she can't escape her fate, her sighed in defeat. "Y-yes, sis..."

-

"So there you have it!~ Don't you find it interesting how the worst and best takers were both my disappointing sisters? I guess you can always count on family when it matters!!" Junko said in a cutesy voice. As the video was going on, she had stripped completely naked, shaking and occasionally slapping her perky butt once eyes were back on her.

"Though all this talk and footage has got me in the mood to do a bit of a repeat...though perhaps next time I'll target different subject?" Well, whatever she picked, it was going to be heaven for her...

And absolute doughy Hell for her victims!~

[simplyotometrash]

HI CAN I REQUEST ehm MC x Asmo where MC is allergic to makeup (to be specific, chemically made ones) although is naturally a pretty person. I have no idea whether my allergies have died down after these years though 🤠 lipsticks/gloss are fine though but I think that's the only thing I could wear when I first tried using makeup (ㅇㅅㅇ❀)

I am absolutely down to write this for you! I ADORE Asmo, so any chance to write him makes me happy! :D

Asmodeus x gender-neutral MC

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

MC Is Allergic to Chemically Made Makeup

"Darling, let me give you a make-over!" Your boyfriend clapped one day.

The two of you spent most of your time together whether that be in his room relaxing or out on the down on dates, you two were practically attached at the hip most of the time. You didn't mind. Asmodeus wasn't a bad person to be around. You loved him dearly. You knew he wasn't what everyone thought of him. Sure, he could be vain, but it often was a coverup for his own deep-seated insecurities.

"No, no. I think I'm good," you answered with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, please! You're already stunning but just imagine how I could enhance that natural appearance!"

"Asmo, no. I don't want a make-over. I probably can't wear any of your makeup anyway," you sighed, putting your hand on his chest to keep him from getting too close with his makeup brushes.

He froze in place and cocked his head. The confused puppy look as you called it. It was absolutely to die for with how cute he looked without even having to try. If he pulled that look on you to get his way then you were sure to cave in. Most of the time. This wasn't one of those times. He was genuinely confused.

"I'm allergic to makeup. More specifically, I'm allergic to chemically made makeup. It's not a pretty sight," you explained, scratching the back of your neck.

He didn't wear too much makeup himself, only when he really wanted to, so you had never really had a reaction to any of it getting on your face. You were also good about cleaning your face afterward if his makeup did get on you.

"It's not that I don't WANT to wear makeup, I'd love to give it a try."

"That's a new one for me! I've never heard of anyone being allergic to makeup before. I understand. It's okay because you're absolutely breathtaking all on your own~!" He dropped his brushes on his nightstand and pinched your cheeks lightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asmodeus spent a lot of time shopping and researching whenever you were with others or taking a day for yourself. Chemically made makeup was the problem according to you. So, he was determined to find something without chemicals in it! Satan was helping him on his research endeavors, as he tended to get sidetracked or bored rather easily. The only thing keeping him from throwing in the towel was the fact he wanted to do it for you.

"I'm not sure what to do," he sighed dramatically. "I'm having a hard time finding makeup here in the Devildom without chemicals."

"I think I've found your answer," Solomon said, patting his friend on the back. "There's a store, it's very small and run by just one person, and she makes all of the makeup she sells herself from natural ingredients. No chemicals."

Asmo immediately perked up and leaped to his feet. "Then let's go! Come on, Solomon!"

"Asmo, wait-"

Solomon was unable to finish what he was going to say as Asmodeus dragged him off into town. Even if he had continued to speak, Solomon wasn't sure Asmo would actually hear him. He was so excited and giddy that he wasn't really paying attention to anything else. Not even his own reflection in shop windows.

He was a man on a mission. Nothing could stop him except-

"Closed," he shrieked. "Why is it closed!?"

"I tried to tell you..." Solomon rubbed at his neck with an awkward laugh. "She's only open a few hours a week. Apparently, because it takes so long to make her products. So she's closed most of the time. She doesn't even advertise when she's open, it's a matter of just checking in constantly."

Asmo whined and stamped his feet. "This is so unfair! I want my MC to be able to experience wearing makeup without an allergic reaction and now the store is closed!?"

Solomon practically had to drag Asmodeus from the shop entrance, the demon absolutely fuming at the situation. Asmo wasn't going to quit. Not in the slightest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had barely gotten to see Asmo for an entire week after that. He was always gone or seemed tired. You had no idea what he was trying to do for you, but you were worried. Asmodeus never looked that tired nor did he avoid you. You were positive he wasn't doing it on purpose. He would never do that. Asmo was much more communicative than people thought.

So, you did what you needed to do and went into his room when you knew he was there. You had seen him rush in not 30 minutes before.

"Asmo, I'm coming in," you called and opened his door.

You were greeted with the biggest hug you'd ever gotten, which was saying a lot with what a hugger your boyfriend was.

"I have a surprise for you, my darling!"

"Wait, wait, wait. Is this surprise why you've been avoiding me?" You narrowed your eyes as he sauntered over to his bed.

"Avoiding? Oh...I suppose that is what I ended up doing. I didn't mean to! I was so busy trying to get this for you that I guess I ended up neglecting you. I'm sorry, MC." He sat down on the bed and patted the spot beside him, a box now in his lap. It was neatly wrapped and topped with a bright pink bow.

"What is this?" You took the box when you sat down and looked at your boyfriend.

"Open it~!" He was practically vibrating with excitement.

You carefully opened the box to find a vast assortment of makeup. You were confused. He knew you couldn't wear makeup, so why was his gift a bunch of it?

"Solomon, Satan, and I spent a while trying to find you some chemical-free makeup. Solomon then found this little shop that makes makeup from all-natural ingredients, no chemicals involved! The owner is the only one who works in the store, though, and she makes everything by hand. So the store is only open a few hours every week. I went there every single day before and after school and waited for hours just to get these for you."

You couldn't help but smile. Asmodeus, the brother everyone claimed only cared about himself, went above and beyond just to get you these items because you couldn't use the makeup from any normal store. He did far more than you would have even asked of him.

"You are naturally beautiful, MC. Just like me. You don't need makeup. I thought, though, that it'd be fun to do makeovers with you sometimes. I wanted you to have your own makeup that you can wear."

He just wanted to be able to add to your quality time spent together. You were beyond moved. You set the box to the side and tackled him to the bed in a tight embrace.

"Asmo," you said softly, "thank you so much. You are so sweet."

He giggled and peppered your face with kisses. "Anything for you, my darling."

[space-dragon-ace]

Snow Angel

Characters: Albedo & Child!Reader Description: It's winter, and you want to spend some time with Albedo Word count: 1088 Additional info: Follow-up to "The Word with C". Should be read to understand this Tagging @clouds-rambles; @deadlyboyy

It had been a month since Albedo had gotten you back from Dragonspine, and a lot had changed since then. He was much more open with his affection towards you, keeping you around his laboratory so he'd know where you were. You basked in the affection, smiling with each hug and head pat you got. And while you were no help to the research, you were just happy you got to spent time with your Papa. You quietly read your books or played with your toys, until Albedo was finished for the day. Sucrose was happy to see you two interact like this, not minding when Albedo gave her some more tasks so he wouldn't have to stay until midnight. Currently, Albedo was analyzing the data gathered from his latest experiment. You were unsure if it was okay to interrupt him now, after all, you knew how important his work was. Then again, you were really hungry, and as much as you liked the other knights, you wanted to eat lunch with Albedo today. You waddled over to him, pulling on his coat. Albedo looked up in confusion, but his expression quickly melted into a smile as he saw you.

„What is it, my dear? Are you bored?“, he asked, putting away his quill. You shook your head, and as if on cue, your tummy grumbled. „Lunch time, Papa. Will you come eat with me, please?“, you requested, causing Albedo to chuckle. „Is it time already?“, he shook his head with a smile „I didn't notice. Of course I'll eat with you.“ You grinned up to him, happily clapping your hands before taking one of his. You giggled as you lead him out of the laboratory and on the streets, waving good-bye to Kaeya and Jean on the way. Both knights smiled at Albedo, Jean with happiness, Kaeya a little bit smug. Albedo huffed silently, deciding that a certain knight would get a potion into his drink soon. You talked the whole way from the Knight's headquarters to the Good Hunter, telling Albedo all about the books you had read and how much you liked or disliked certain things in them. The thing that seemed to annoy you the most was seemingly the forced love story between the hero and the heroine. They had worked well enough as friends, and the romance didn't do anything to the story, so why put it in?! Albedo laughed at this, amused on your take of it. You were not a child like others, if one thought in stereotypes. You did like princess stories and the hero getting the girl, but you also enjoyed a good adventure story with no romance whatsoever. It depended on the time of day and your general mood.

„That was so tasty, Papa!“, you cheerfully said, patting your full tummy. Albedo smiled and paid the waiter, before taking your hand so you could leave. „I'm glad you liked it“, he said, and meant it. You had looked so happy when eating your meal, making sounds of content at the taste. Something you rarely did at home. Maybe he should take some cooking lessons... „Papa, look!“, you called out, pulling Albedo out of his thoughts. He looked to where you pointed, the clouds. Snowflakes had started to fall down, and he raised a hand to catch one in his palm. You did the same, but also stuck out your tongue, trying to catch a snowflake and eat it. Albedo chuckled at this display, and while he did feel a bit silly, he stuck his tongue out as well. You saw and giggled, hugging him „Papa? Do you have to go back already?“, you asked and made puppy eyes, knowing all to well he wouldn't be able to leave now. He knew as well, and silently cursed you for those adorable face you could pull and how you used it. „No, I don't“, he sighed in defeat, causing you to cheer. A few days ago, you and Klee had played in the snow, something you now wanted to repeat with Albedo. While you couldn't go sledding now, since you had no sled, it was possible to build a snowman, make some angels and maybe even have a little snowball fight. All the stuff you did with your best friend, but now, you would make some memories with your family.

And so Mondstadt was treated to the sight off the Head Alchemist kneeling in the snow, and doing a mix between walking and crawling. You did the same, and both of you rolled little snowballs in front of you, trying to make them bigger. It was an amusing sight, but also a very heartwarming one. Even more so when he helped you put your snowball on top of his, and gave the snowman a smiling face with some shiny pebbles you had found. He only stopped when you tried to take off your scarf, wanting to tie it around the snowman's neck. As much as he loved you and wanted you to have fun, he was not in for you getting sick. You pouted a bit, but stopped once the argument of catching a cold came up. You had heard how much Kaeya had complained about it when he had caught one, and it had sounded horrible. One thing was sure, you did not want to suffer the same fate! And if that meant your snowman had to be the one freezing, so be it. At least he was made out of snow already, so how high were the chances of him getting cold anyway? The thought seemed to satisfy you, as you stopped arguing with Albedo and even pulled your scarf a little bit tighter. Which was only helpful for you next course of action: You let yourself fall backwards in the snow, before flailing your arms and legs around for a bit.

Albedo watched you, chuckling. A few seconds later, you carefully stood up, standing next to your creation. „Look Papa, I made an angel!“, you exclaimed with a smile. Albedo smiled, leaning down to brush off any remaining snow from your clothes. „That you did. My little angel~“, he teased, watching with delight as your smile grew bigger. You quickly laid down again, wanting to make another one. This time, Albedo joined you in the endeavor. And even though both of you returned to the Knight's Headquarters freezing and soaked with molten snow, it was still one of the best days, if one asked you.

[chicago-geniza]

Everybody please clap I went to the asthma diet study and then to two pharmacies in wholly disparate areas of Chicago and went to T-Mobile and found out how to fix my phone even if they didn't have the requisite component in stock and discovered insurance needs to renew the prior approval on my T for the new year so I sent it to my doctor for review and discovered I am locked out of my state benefits online account and the email tech support was singularly unhelpful so am calling the Humboldt Park office in the morning to see if a human being can sort it out, vaguely recall I do NOT need to renew Medicaid but want to make absolutely sure so will call THAT number first thing in the morning too; also - replaced my busted headphones at the student store so I didn't have a meltdown, picked up a notebook and some Post-Its, impulsively swung by the uni library and discovered my card still worked and checked out Cayhill on Benjamin, Nietzsche on tragedy, and two Ernst Bloch books in translation, also cased their periodicals for dissertation research; nobody is there! It's so quiet and still. They have Dialog and their microfiche stores are un-fucking-believable. I'm going to start reserving a cubicle--there's a word for library cubicle that sounds like cassock, that's my middle-word, the monkish studiousness, hunched over illuminating manuscripts, it's my mnemonic, like the image the word passes through by association before I remember--carrel, that's it. (Sp?) Passel, tassel. Bundles of papers, tops of scholars' caps and trails of tapestries in halls of learning, it's the phonetic associations, it's never semantic for me, really. Diogenes in a barrel. Etc. K calls it constellation thinking, which I prefer to the pathological tone with which people cut the phrase "free association." It's fun to write like this, how I think! Freewheeling at any rate. Kept thinking of that quote about how we are dancing animals put on earth to fart around, like. Yeah. Truly my mind woke up when I spent a day with the common cold under a gray sky running stupid Kafkaesque errands and dilly-dallying about it. An old woman came up to me and complained about the parking and the traffic and her bad leg and her bad doctor and the bad weather. We commiserated, comrades in misery, each with our bad legs and our bad doctors under the weight of the sullen sky. I love the city, I love the bus driver who greeted everyone cheerfully despite the dreariness, I love that three people on the train platform were wearing the same shoes as me, these Adidas sneakers I got at the thrift store seven years ago. It is so much easier to be open and kind when I do not feel like a prey animal all the time. Did not think this post would arrive at "encomium to anxiety medication and Going Outside [which I am able to do because of anxiety medication]" but here we are lol

[bleufrost]

hey! I saw you were taking requests , I was wondering how Loki would help his partner suffering through chronic pain? I suffer with fibromyalgia and Loki is a massive comfort character , thank you so much ❤️

Immeasurable | Loki x reader

a/n: hey sweetheart! ok, so i was doing some research and spoke to my friend who also has fibromayalgia, and this ended up being a little angstier than i intended. I hope that's ok, but please let me know if you want something that's just fluff all the way through and ill be more than happy to write that for you 🖤

warnings: a bit of angst/self doubt, melted ice cream

The whole night was spent in pain. You'd wake up, try in vain to rub away some of the discomfort, try to go back to sleep, and then repeat. By the time morning hit, you were still exhausted and it felt like there was nothing that would change that. 

Deciding it best to stay in your room, you politely ask F.R.I.D.A.Y to let Tony know you would be out again today. He knew about the pain that often plagued you, and he knew that there was very little you could do about it. It wasn't your fault, and the treatments you normally used could only ease it slightly. You were in this one for the long haul, but hopefully this particularly bad feeling would ease soon. 

Gathering with the team to eat was never one of the most coveted moments of the day for Loki. Oftentimes he much preferred to skip it. The one thing that always called him to the table though, was you. So when he arrived this morning to find your seat empty, he immediately began to worry. 

When Tony spoke, alarms went off in his head. 

"Alright team, today is gonna be another training day. Gotta keep sharp for any more...visitors." Tony gives him a somewhat-playful look and continues. 

"We're doing another group exercise today. Since we're all here, I'm going to start teaming you all up!" All here? Clearly not everyone is here, so why was he acting as though someone very valuable wasn't missing entirely? 

He claps his hands together and rubs them in excitement. 

"Capsicle, I'm putting you with Point Break-"

"Stark, I believe you've miscounted." The team looks around, but ultimately decides to ignore him. Tony chuckles at the interruption, a small sign of anxiety flashing before his face that quickly vanishes. 

"Nope! Definitely did not." He returns to giving out teams, but Loki was now even more concerned and ready to argue.

"It seems a cruel joke to ignore the absence of a member of the team you claim to care so deeply for." Loki tries to sound unconcerned. He desperately plays at nonchalance and wants everyone to believe that he's only bringing you up to make Tony's life harder. 

They see right through it though. The two of you were nearly inseparable. Even trying to appear like he didn't care about where you were was...laughable.

"Alright, Reindeer Games, you clearly want a partner. You're with our dearly missed little teammate. It's not gonna be glamorous, but you're right. They're on the team and everyone needs to participate. " Tony grabs a water and a pint of ice cream from the freezer, tossing them to Loki and shrugging. 

"What..?" How could they be partners if one of the duo wasn't here? 

"Go on upstairs. I'm sure you're needed." Loki nods, still confused but more than eager to see you. Right as he reaches the doorway, Tony shouts one last thing at him. 

"Hey, no funny business!"  

You had wanted to get up and grab a drink for the last thirty minutes. Tony was great, but remembering some important things just wasn't on his list of strengths. 

So, when you hear a knock at the door, you're desperately hoping it's the forgetful billionaire who owns the damn building. 

"You can come in!" Loki opens the door slowly, a little nervous. For what, he's not sure. 

When you see him, your heart drops. In your eyes, you were never as strong as the other members of your team, never quite as fast or resilient. Loki had never looked down upon you though. He never made you feel less than the rest. Giving him a reason to do so...that hurt you. 

"What are you doing here?" The words come out strained, a new blossoming of pain joining the dull ache that already existed in your muscles. 

Loki notices immediately and moves forward, just enough to let you know that he's there, but not enough to make you feel trapped. 

"You're hurt? Who hurt you?" You try not to let anything show, to be strong and not ruin the image you hope he has in his head of you. But you can't. 

"I'm okay." Once again, the words barely make it out. Loki steps forward again, face marred with a look of hurt and confusion.

"I am not blind." 

You know you can't hide it. For as strong as you try to be, this was just something you couldn't always toughen up and push away. Deep down, you know that no one could. It was nothing to be ashamed of, and yet here you were, still scared of letting one of the only people who knew pain as well as you did in. 

Looking back to Loki, you recognize the concern. There's no judgement or signs of cruelty. He just wants to know what's happening to you. Finally, you decide to tell him. Just...in a second.

Right now, something a little more pressing rises to your attention. You were still incredibly thirsty, and the effort to stay awake all morning had you feeling exhausted and dehydrated. Looking to the bottle, you point sheepishly. 

"Can I have that?"

Loki watches you carefully, but gives you the water immediately. He places a little pint of ice cream on the nightstand before leaning down to get even closer to you.

With shaky hands, you bring it up to drink. His own palm rests against your raised one in an attempt to steady your shaking form. The fact that he didn't take it from you to hold it himself meant so much. You could do it, you just needed a little help. 

"Tell me what's hurting you...please." His eyes plead with you, and although he would never force you to say or do anything, you know in that moment that you can't keep this to yourself any longer. Not from him. You place the bottle down and sigh.

Recognizing that you're preparing to share something difficult with him, Loki lifts his hand to gently stroke your cheek. You instantly lean into his palm.

"Okay. But first, can you please hold me?" Your eyes are watery as you speak, beginning to let down the facade. He’s going to know soon. There's no point in hiding. 

Loki doesn't even respond. On any given day, he'd do absolutely anything you asked of him without question. On days when you clearly weren't okay...well he was willing to go above and beyond if it meant providing you with any comfort he could. 

He climbs on to bed, gently wrapping his arms around you. You can tell he's afraid of hurting you. It warms your heart, but it also stings. 

You're not fragile. You're not some weak little kid. Still, the feeling of him against you is too comforting to deny. 

"Sometimes…" not wanting to lie, you revise your statement.

"Most times, I experience a lot of pain in my body. It changes every once in a while, but it never really goes away." Loki's eyes appear confused, guarded in a way that tells you he's unsure of how to respond. You give him a moment, and he finally decides he needs more information. 

"Why?" His eyes scan your body, searching for any sign of injury. Anything that could be causing the obvious pain you're experiencing. 

"It could be a mix of things. Genetics, stress, bad luck?" You shrug and try to smile a little, hoping that the last one could lighten the mood. It didn't. 

"How do we stop it from hurting you? What can I do to help?" He looks so eager, as though you could tell him that you needed all of the infinity stones and twenty planets in order to take just the smallest amount of hurt away and he'd happily do it. The intensity with which he looks at you tells you that it isn't far off, if off at all. 

You shake your head. He rises a little, just enough to lock eyes with you and attempt to tell you just how much he wanted to stop you from experiencing any discomfort. It couldn't be stopped though. You knew that. 

"Please let me help." His fingers come up to stroke your cheek again, looking for any further contact he could get with you. It makes it hurt even more when you have to crush his hopes.

"There's nothing you can do, Loki. There's no cure or quick fix. I have to live with it." 

It's like he barely hears you, rejecting your response before you can even really give it.

"No. No, there must be something we can do." He's so adamant about it, and as much as you appreciate his dedication, you've been through this before. Too many times to count. 

"There’s not!" It's hardly a yell, more a frustrated little cry than anything. You didn't mean to get upset, but everything just felt like too much and you needed it to stop. Still, you regret losing your temper immediately. 

Prepared to apologize, you look at Loki with tears in your eyes. What you see in him translates a million things to you, but one stands out more than any other: he wasn't looking for an apology. He didn't even seem to think one was necessary. Instead, he looks upset with himself. 

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" The question is valid. You both had shared so much with each other...this one just seemed to never have the right time. That's what you tell yourself anyways. What you end up telling Loki...well, it's the truth.

"I didn't want you to think I was weak. Everyone else already knows and I see the way they look at me. They think I'm some glass doll ready to shatter at any moment. I'm not!" Tears slip past your eyes and you can feel the beginnings of a new type of pain. Your heart hurt intensely now, having never shared those thoughts with anyone before.

Loki hugs you to him, kissing your forehead and holding you close. 

"You're right. You're not made of glass. I need you to know that not one of those people looks down upon you. I've spent time with each of them, mostly unwillingly, but they all think the world of you." You shake your head. He couldn't be telling the truth, right? 

"Furthermore, I want to apologize." 

You pull back, questioning Loki.

"I told you, it isn't anyone's fault. You don't have to be sorry." 

"No, as much as I hate that you're in pain, that's not what I mean. I want to apologize for making you think, even for a second, that you had to hide this from me. That you thought something like this would make me see you as less than you truly are. Your strength is immeasurable, and knowing that you remain so courageous and ready to help others when you experience this so often…well, how could I not be in awe of you?" 

Kissing your forehead again, Loki settles down beside you. He lets you absorb his words, feeling the stiffness in your body alleviate slightly as you lay against him. 

You didn't know what you expected when you finally told Loki. Honestly, you weren't entirely sure you ever planned to. This, though, was more understanding than you ever imagined. 

"Thank you." Looking up, you can see the tiny smile form on his lips.

"For what, darling?" His fingers brush against your shoulder, hoping that the continued stimulus would take your mind off the consistent negative feeling at least a little. 

"For understanding. And for being here." Your own fingers play with his shirt, feeling the soft material and taking comfort in his existence beside you. 

"Thank you for allowing me to." Loki leans down, careful not to make any jarring movements. Kissing you gently, he smiles as you giggle against him. 

"Now what's so funny, little one?" Your head shakes in embarrassment, but you still look over his shoulder as much as possible, trying to get a glimpse of the nightstand. 

"You're going to think I'm crazy, but I saw you bring in ice cream and I've kind of been thinking about it a little this whole time." When he looks at you, shocked and more than a little taken off guard, you laugh even more. 

"I find your dedication to it both very confusing and wildly impressive." He joins you in laughing, his joyful chuckle vibrating through his chest and making you smile in content. 

Suddenly, your body grows tired again. A deep wave of fatigue hits you and you don't try to hide how it affects you. You don't have to, not with Loki. Not anymore. 

Loki immediately grabs the container from the table. He opens it, brows scrunching as he takes in the goopy, melted mess. 

You watch in fascination as his hand turns a deep blue, frosting the ice cream once more. He was pretty damn great. 

"There. Not quite the same as it was, but hopefully good enough." Taking it from his hands and placing a bit in your mouth, you smile. 

"It's perfect." Loki kisses you, humming happily. 

"That you are." He licks his lips and nods his head in approval. "That tastes quite good." 

You take another spoonful and give it to him, happily sharing one of your favorite treats while you both settle in to talk and watch something. 

Hours later, you're still struggling to sleep. Loki watches as the sun sets, covering the room in a vast darkness. He hates the way your body tenses against him, the way he can't just take every last piece of hurt away from you. In that moment, he remembers all the times that he had felt pained in life. Decades flash before his eyes, until finally he lands on a memory from his youth, and he gets an idea. 

Lifting his hand, Loki brings little fireworks to life. The colors dance across his fingertips, and when your eyes open after a particularly uncomfortable wave, you can't pull them away. 

He watches, enchanted by the way the sparks of light reach your eyes. While your focus remains on the beauty his magic creates, his mind is only filled with how breathtaking you are. 

It doesn't stop the pain, but it definitely does make going through it a little easier. 

That's how it goes from then on. Most days you feel okay enough to keep fighting, but on the days that you don't, he's there. The treat may change from ice cream, to cookies, and one day a huge stack of candy that Loki seems far too giddy to try. Sometimes you watch movies, other times he reads to you instead. A lot of things change about the way you two learn to live with your pain, but one thing stays the same. You never have to go through it alone again. 

[marginalmadness]

Summer Nights: 2/4

Pairing: Rabbit!Hybrid Jungkook x Y/N

Rating: Mature (later explicit)

Genre: Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance, Fluff

Synopsis: A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long…will it?

Warnings/Tags: This chapter involves Jungkook going into heat.

Author’s Note: If I called @johobi​ patient before, I fucked up the tenses to bad in this chapter, it took her HOURS to fix. But she approved of the chapter which I’m happy about because this is the one I was most worried about. Jungkook Goes into heat in this chapter, and I hope nobody wants to kill me when they finish it.  Chapter 3 is only a week away! <3

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Tags: @kookiebunny97​ @mintyrae​ @skswriting​ 

Word Count: 5.6K

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The events depicted here are entirely of my own imagining, and have no basis on actual people or events.

I hope everyone is enjoying BE, and Life Goes On.

Summer Nights: Chapter Two

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the sourc

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the source of the enchanting sound. To your shock and delight, you find Jungkook hopping around the kitchen happily, ears and hair bouncing as he sings along to the radio and prepares pancakes. His voice is divine. You stand there enraptured, caught under his spell. He drops the spatula in fright when he turns to find you leaning against the wall, watching him silently.

 “Please continue,” you urge him. But he shakes his head, blushing and hiding behind his ears. “Your voice is so pretty. Please?” you coax, stepping towards him. Jungkook considers you from behind his ears for a second. Then, tentatively, he picks up the spatula and resumes his song while he washes it clean.

 From that day onwards, he wakes you each morning the same way, voice drifting through the bedroom door he leaves slightly ajar. There’s always a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes waiting for you in the kitchen, and beside it a bowl of yogurt-drizzled fruit. As soon as you’re seated, Jungkook extends a freshly brewed cup of breakfast tea to you. You eat together in the early morning light, the radio playing in the background. And while you get ready for work, Jungkook cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. 

 Domestic heaven. 

At the end of your work day, you come home and thank God he’s still there. Sometimes he’s typing away on your laptop. Jungkook signed up as a freelance transcriber as a way to make money while staying with you. It was something to do while you were at work, too, restless soul that he is.  Sometimes, though, you come home to find him flopped on his side in a patch of sun, having a nap as a bunny. 

You cook dinner together now. Well, when you say together, you mean you take his direction, since Jungkook is a much better cook than you. He uses some of his free time to look up recipes he thinks you’ll like. 

It’s ridiculously heartwarming. 

After dinner, as is your routine, you split the washing up and curl up together to watch some Netflix. On the days you do all the washing up, Jungkook doesn’t fight you for control of the TV. 

You still tease him over the first and only time you watched a horror movie. The first jump-scare forced him into rabbit form and he leapt into your lap in fright. Jungkook spent the entire movie there, shivering. And the rest of the night he spent pressed against your side in a tight, furry ball. Of course, the next day he insisted he wasn’t that scared, he just didn’t want to bother you by transforming back and forth.

He did a similar thing when you were watching a sappy romantic movie, but you don’t tease him about that. The second you noticed him sniffling at the lovers’ separation, he turned into a rabbit and hopped off his chair and over to you. You expected him to come cuddle, but he scrambled onto the back of the sofa and situated himself by your head instead. Every time there was a particularly romantic moment, he would nudge you with his nose and tickle you with his whiskers. And when he was feeling particularly bold, he’d grip your shoulder with his front claws and rub his chin over your cheek and neck. It tickled so much it made you squirm. 

After extricating yourself from his clutches, a quick search on the internet told you that rabbits do this to mark their territory. You have trouble looking him in the eye the rest of that day. You know he’s attracted to you; have done since that first night. But he’s been ever so respectful. For some reason, the thought of him marking you as his makes your skin flush and burn.

Shopping for groceries is an experience, too. Jungkook skips around the store, picking multiple things up, asking you if you like them before throwing them in the shopping cart. It doesn’t matter whether you need them or not, just if you like it. That’s good enough for Bun. He’s so happy and energetic, his smile wide and eyes sparkling until you bend over into a freezer to pick up some ice cream. When you turn back, Jungkook is clinging to the cart, his eyes wide and entire body stock-still. All but his foot as it wildly pounds the ground.

“You okay, Bun?” you ask with a tilt of your head. His mouth drops open into a shape as round as his eyes. Mimicking you, Jungkook tilts his head before blinking and shaking it. And then he coughs, practically vibrates, before muttering something about cereal and running off in the opposite direction of the cereal. 

Ever since that peculiar day, Jungkook has insisted on going grocery shopping alone. Something about getting out of the house and becoming more independent. But he blushes and averts his eyes as he says it, foot tapping wildly until he kicks over a plant pot. He cleans up the mess without another word, chewing on one of its stricken leaves and purposefully avoiding your eyes for the rest of the day.

Your weekends become different too. Before Bun arrived, you’d spent them relaxing after your work week, alone and in peace. Now you have a tiny, demanding rabbit that follows you around your apartment, tripping you up. And now you also have a fully grown, demanding man. A roommate - for lack of a better word - with which to do things. Now you have Saturday walks in the park and Sunday brunches. Imagine that.

 Jungkook is incredibly physical. Forever moving, rarely still, bouncing from foot to foot, wiggling when excited. When you praise him, he claps and dances. The day you get a promotion at work, he hugs you so tightly, lifting you up and spinning you in the air because he’s simply that happy. He binkies about in excitement just as much as he did in bunny form, long hair and floppy ears bouncing wildly as his eyes crinkle in happiness, sending things flying in his excitement. You’ve already replaced one particular lamp three times.

But then Jungkook starts marking his territory in human form, too.

You’re chopping something for dinner on some nondescript day when Jungkook approaches you from behind, hands sliding gently over your hips. You could shake him off easily if you wanted to. But you find yourself not wanting to. His chin rests on your shoulder as though he’s just watching you work, but then the subtle rub starts. Across your shoulder and into the crook of your neck, until an involuntary shudder runs down your spine. It snaps Jungkook back to his senses and he pulls away.

—-

The day everything changed was the day from hell. Work had been awful, just one fuck up after another. None of which were even your fault, but all of which you were expected to fix.

You come home to a tidy apartment, subtle scented candles burning and soft music playing. Jungkook is in the kitchen cooking, and you’re sure the ingredients you can smell are ones he’s shopped for today.

“Welcome home.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “Dinner is almost done if you want to get washed up.” He turns back to stir the pan on the stove. When you walked through the front door you were on the verge of tears. Now your eyes are misting up for the complete opposite reason.

You drag your sorry ass over to him and practically collapse against his wide, strong back, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist like he often does you.

“Thank you,” you practically sob into his shirt, screwing your eyes closed in an effort to not actually cry. You try to keep the emotion out of your voice but Jungkook knows you well enough to sense you’re upset by something. He immediately switches off the stove burners and turns to wrap his arms tightly around you, holding you without a second thought.

 “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, voice full of concern. Large, strong hands brush the hair back from your face.

 “I just had a really shit day, and you just—” You turn, arms flailing, motioning to the clean apartment and dinner on the stove. Jungkook nods in understanding. “—you made it all better.” His eyes go round as he blinks at you in shock, before melting into something warm. He tucks your hair behind your ears and tilts your head as he moves in, as though he were going to kiss you. Your eyes flutter closed as his nose brushes yours, but his lips never touch yours. “What’s this?” you ask in a whisper, blinking your eyes open to find him smiling at you softly.

 “A rabbit thing,” he says simply, resting his forehead against yours with a soft grunt of air. It doesn’t quite reach a growl. You know it's a rabbit thing; you researched. But you didn’t expect it in human form.

 “Okay.” You don’t push, don’t demand an explanation for a deeper meaning, just accept the affection from him. You lean in and brush your nose against his in return, causing him to gasp and grunt again, hand moving from your face to your waist. It lingers there for a few seconds before Jungkook gently, physically, pushes you away, his large eyes looking bigger than usual. His pupils are blown out, almost entirely black. Breath comes from his parted lips in short pants and huffs.

 “You should get cleaned up while I finish dinner,” he says softly, stepping backwards. There’s an arm’s length of space between you now. You nod at him, hands finding his, giving him a squeeze as you back out of the kitchen. You don’t let go until the space between you is too far for your fingertips to touch. His eyes don’t leave you until you’re completely out of sight.

 You close the door quietly, leaning your forehead against it and taking slow, deep, grounding breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. What was that? Sure, it isn’t the first time he’s done it; he did it on the night he transformed and kissed you. Somehow, though, it felt as intimate as him kissing you again. Is it wrong to feel this way towards Jungkook? He’s your Bun, your charge; you’re his caretaker. Are you taking advantage of him? Is he only acting like this because he’s thankful to you for taking care of him?

 You push off and away from the door, feeling heavy. It’s almost like there’s a rope connecting you to Jungkook and forever pulling you towards him. You change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. If that more comfortable thing happens to be something just a little clingy in certain, flattering places, and it makes you feel pretty, then you tell yourself you need the ego boost after the day you had. It has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to look good for Jungkook. You head to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your hair into something more relaxed before returning to the kitchen. And Jungkook.

 “Nope!” Jungkook yells, stopping you before you can even enter the kitchen, two strong hands taking you by the shoulders, turning you around and practically marching you towards the living room. You pout over your shoulder at him, but he’s just grinning and laughing at your pouty face. You slump onto the sofa and he leans over the back of it, hovering over you, his eyes crinkling as he laughs musically. Ever so carefully he takes you by the jaw, rubbing his chin over your head, tilting you to the side so he can whisper in your ear.

 “Sit and relax, I’ll bring you dinner.” His voice is light and full of joy.

 You sit and pout, grabbing the remote to put some music on. At the exact moment you drop it back to the table, a bowl of food is placed in front of you. You blink up at a grinning Jungkook as he retreats eagerly to the kitchen, presumably for drinks. His enthusiasm is infectious. You pick up the bowl of pasta, twirling your fork in the creamy sauce and noodles, and take a big bite. It’s delicious. Delicious enough to have you moaning with pleasure and sliding back against the couch.

 “Kookie, this is amazing!” you groan, licking the sauce from your lips.

 Jungkook stares at you, eyes wide, focused on your tongue as it slides along your lips. You hadn’t even realised he’d come back from the kitchen. He places a glass of wine on the table in front of you, ducking his head and hiding behind his ears as he shuffles to his spot on the sofa, bowl in hand. You watch him slyly out of the corner of your eye. His face is so red, so glowing you can almost feel the heat radiating from it. “I made it,” he says, still staring intently at his food. “I found a recipe online I thought you would like.”

 “From scratch?” you ask, amazed. He nods, biting his lip and refusing to look at you. You reach across the space between you and thread your fingers into his soft, wavy locks, rubbing the spot just behind one of his floppy ears. “Bun this is amazing, it tastes amazing!” His head lifts up, eyes so big they sparkle in the low light. “You’re amazing,” you whisper in a soft voice. Jungkook ducks his head again, hiding once more behind his long ears and curly hair. He eats his food slowly, more picking at it than anything. You, on the other hand, tuck in enthusiastically, all manners and grace gone, letting him see and hear your enjoyment of the food. You know how much it pleases him when you unabashedly enjoy his cooking. When you ask for seconds, handing him your empty bowl, Jungkook binkies across the room to the kitchen, bouncing on his heels as he piles a second serving of noodles and sauce into your bowl.

 He hands it back to you soon after and sits beside you on the sofa, knees curling under himself. Reclining on the back cushions, he observes you as you eat, arms crossed and eyes sparkling. When you’re half way through your second serving and can’t eat a bite more, he whisks away the dishes and returns quickly to your side. 

 Jungkook flops over and places his head in your lap. “Will you…” He bites his lip, turning to bury his face in your sweater, his cheeks burning crimson again.

 “What? What do you want, Kookie?” you ask, carding your fingers through his hair and rubbing a thumb over the gentle fur of his ear. It twitches repeatedly.

 “Just this. Will you play with my hair? Stroke my ears?” he asks in a small voice. It’s unusually meek for him in his human form.

 “Of course I will, Bun. Anything you want.” You smile, running your fingers through his hair, nails trailing down his scalp. His leg kicks out, narrowly missing the coffee table. You hand him the remote. “Pick something to watch.”

Jungkook shuffles, turning to face the TV. With his head still in your lap, he curls up into a ball, enjoying your ministrations. You continue to pet him, running your fingers through his hair and stroking his ears, twirling locks of hair around your finger before releasing the resulting curl. You lounge there together, the stress of the day bleeding away from you thanks to a stomach full of good food and your hand tangled in the hair of—Jungkook—whatever he was to you right now.

You don’t know exactly when you fall asleep, but you wake to strong arms holding you, carrying you to your room. Jungkook places you delicately on your bed and you fling yourself backwards, curling up to drift off again. But before long you’re being shaken gently awake and sat back up. Soft, cotton pajamas are pushed into your hands.

“You need to get changed,” a soft, deep voice says firmly in your ear. A warm body presses against your back.

You pout, eyes resolutely closed, but begin taking off your sweater. Large hands help you when you get tangled on your arms. It’s even more of a struggle to unhook your bra. You flail for a while before dropping your arms and slumping back against Jungkook with a tired, pathetic whine. If you were properly awake you might have noticed how his breath hissed through his teeth, or how his nose rubbed your temple. 

With more force than is probably necessary, Jungkook grips you by the shoulder and props you forward. Then, with just one finger, he pulls your bra band away from your back, taking all care not to touch you at all. By some black magic he manages to unhook it, sliding the straps down and off your arms before discarding it on the floor. Not once does he look over your shoulder. He pulls the camisole of your pajama set over your head, guiding your arms through the straps before you wake enough to take over and pull both arms through.

“Now the shorts,” he grunts, low and gruff. It’s unusual enough that you pout at him over your shoulder.

“Bossy bunny,” you mumble, standing and kicking off the comfy leggings you had on. Somewhere in the back of your head you register a soft ‘”shit’” that you’re too tired to acknowledge. You pull on your shorts and sit back down, immediately flopping to your pillow. You feel your body being turned, tucked beneath the sheet pulled over you. Sleep comes easily to you after that.

—-

You wake up while it’s still dark outside. Jungkook’s chest is hot against your back, his knees curled and tucked behind yours. A muscled arm hangs heavily over your waist, keeping you close to him. You lift it as carefully as possible and slide out of bed, tip-toeing stealthily across the soft carpet and out of the room. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass in the dark, in search of a drink for your parched throat.

You drink your fill and shuffle back to bed, bringing a glass with you just in case. Although you slip into your room as stealthily as you’d left it, Jungkook is awake when you return. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, bottom lip snagged beneath his prominent front teeth.

“Kookie?” you ask softly in the darkness, making your way back to your side of the bed. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I just—I reached for you and you were gone,” he says, watching you place your glass of water down and climb back into bed. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Silly rabbit,” you coo. Jungkook rolls towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tangling a powerful, muscular leg with yours. You settle back, stroking his head and mulling over his unusual clinginess as sleep comes to claim you. 

But then you feel a pressure against your thigh, and you’re suddenly very awake. 

Jungkook undulates his hips to a subtle rhythm. “Wha-” you begin, turning to look at him. But he buries his nose beneath your jaw, his breath coming out in soft,  heavy huffs in time with his movements. He grinds against your hip with a desperation. You swallow audibly, forcing yourself to ask as your face burns. “Jungkook, what are you doing?”

“Sorry,” he whines. “I can’t help it, I just—” He throws his thigh over your hips, shifting until he’s hovering over you, weight on his knees and forearms. His hips drop to roll against your stomach, a thick bulge straining the thin material of the pajama bottoms you had bought him. Jungkook ruts against your sweat-covered skin as you stare up at him, eyes wide, frozen in shock. Heat floods through you, stirring your insides until you’re panting. He is, too. His mouth hangs open as he huffs in time with his thrusts, lips grazing your jaw until they reach your mouth. He caresses it softly with his own, barely a whisper of a touch. Once. Twice. Just like that first night he turned. The third time, he kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed and you kiss him back. Nothing more than a delicate tilt of your head and a careful brushing of your lips against his. This is wrong, a voice in the back of your head whispers. This man is practically a stranger.

Only he’s not.

He’s shared your bed as a human for the past two weeks, and ten weeks before that as a rabbit.

You’ve spent evenings curled up together, watching shows you both enjoy. You know his moods, as he knows yours. Your hand feels as comfortable tangled in his hair as it does amongst his fur, and you can read his eyes in both forms exactly the same.

He’s your Jungkook. Your Kookie. 

Your Bun.

He exhales heavily, his tongue lapping at your lips for more. Warm breath fans your face and you practically tremble with anticipation. Jungkook tears himself away to run his hands down the curves of your body, and as you look up at him, your mouth dries at the sight of his godly form. The ever-present glow of the city creates a subtle neon halo behind him, heightening his otherworldly, divine presence.

“I-I—“ As suddenly as he came onto you, Jungkook scrambles backwards off the bed, falling ungracefully to the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!” he yells, eyes watery and wide with terror. He rushes out of the room so quickly he doesn’t even stand up straight. Just heads straight for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You follow too late, reaching your bedroom doorway just in time to hear the bathroom lock snap into place.

You drop to your knees outside the bathroom door, knocking on it gently. “Jungkookie, what’s wrong? Please, come out,” you call.

“I can’t,” comes a whine from the other side of the door. It almost sounds like a sob. “I have to stay here. Can I have a blanket please?” The voice is strained and tight; unsure. It’s not like the warm, bright voice you’ve come to know at all.

“Okay,” you agree. “I’ll get that for you. I’ll be right back.” When you return with the requested blanket, you let Kookie know with a small knock on the door. He cracks it open just enough for you to push the bedding through. In doing so, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re wide and a little teary, his pupils huge. His face and upper chest is worryingly flushed. Jungkook notices you scrutinising his appearance and slams the door shut before you can comment. You hover on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave him. “I’m not upset with you, Bun. I understand if you want some space. Good night.”

You shuffle your way back to bed, curling up under the duvet for the first time in weeks. Because despite the heat and humidity of summer, it feels far, far too cold.

—-

The fullness of your bladder wakes you, demanding you seek relief immediately. You can tell by the noise outside that it’s late morning, and you hope Jungkook is already awake. You roll out of bed and shuffle over to the bathroom, trying the handle and finding it still locked.

With a reluctant sigh, you knock. “Jungkookie? Bun, I need to pee. Can you let me in please?” A few moments later there’s shuffling behind the door and the soft click of a lock opening. A sunken-eyed Jungkook stands on the other side, eyes averted. The duvet you gave him wraps him like a shroud. It hangs over his head, hiding his ears, his hands clutching it tightly at his chest. He stares pointedly at his feet as he shuffles past you, and if it weren’t for your desperate need to pee you’d stop and talk to him. But that’s a conversation that can wait until you’ve made breakfast.

You finish in the bathroom as fast as possible and make your way to the kitchen, noticing how he sits curled up on the chair in the corner of your living room.

You pull out all the things you need to make pancakes and crank up the volume on an upbeat playlist; mostly songs Jungkook likes listening to in the mornings. “Jungkook, could you help me please?” you ask sweetly. “The strawberries and bananas need slicing.”

He perks up at that, ears twitching before his eyes dart over to you. He loves bananas, almost obsessively loves them. I knew that would work, you smile to yourself. Jungkook fiddles with the waistband of his pajamas and you try to forget the outline of his hardness straining against them. Try to forget how your skin flushed when he rocked it against you. You focus back on the batter, giving it an extra hard stir, making sure there’s no lumps in it. That’s the reason for you beating it so vigorously. No other reason.

You sigh, pinching yourself before switching on the burner on the stove.

Jungkook begins chopping fruit. Yes. You smile to yourself, watching him out of the corner of your eye as you work on two stacks of pancakes. The tension in the air between you two eases, and soon you’re both dancing to a song that Jungkook listens to often; its easy choreography something you developed together. The song changes into something new, something you’ve never heard before, but you sway your hips nevertheless as you ladle batter into the hot frying pan. Jungkook bounces from foot-to-foot, endlessly energetic as he works his way through half a bunch of bananas and the entire bowl of strawberries. He’s piling the chopped fruit up on plates when you push between him and the counter with a small, murmured excuse me. The step he takes back to allow you access isn’t quite big enough. Even then you don’t notice; so used to squeezing around one another in the modestly-sized kitchen as you are.

 Jungkook, however, notices.

Your ass slides firmly against him and he grips your hips almost painfully hard, pressing you into the counter.

“Ow! Jungkook, what are you—” Your question becomes a squeal of surprise when he buries his nose behind your ear and grinds his rapidly hardening cock into the cleft of your ass. Only two, flimsy layers of clothing separate you. 

“I need you so bad,” he growls as he rubs his nose through your hair, the underside of his chin skimming the column of your neck. You arch back into him, throwing your head back to expose more of your neck to him. You’re usually a lot more reserved with men—a lot—but something about Jungkook makes you want to be wild. Maybe it’s the way you feel so safe with him. His body is a solid presence against your back, his thrusting desperate and needy. Gone is the sweet, delicate Bun you’ve come to care about. He’s been replaced with someone who grips you, growls at you, and yet you still feel safe in his arms.

It’s Jungkook. He’d never hurt you.

You groan, something between a whine and a whimper being ripped from the back of your throat as he rubs himself against you. Then, suddenly - unwelcomely - cold air hits your back. 

Jungkook has torn himself from you for a second time. 

You turn but he’s not behind you. Spinning in place, you see a fluffy tail vanishing around a cabinet and a pair of light grey pajamas left in its wake. You follow fast enough to watch him hightail it out of the kitchen and across the living room, straight under the chair in the corner. He never sits in it as a human, preferring to sit next to you on the sofa, but it’s his favourite place to hide as a bunny.

You crouch, peeking under the chair, trying to coax him out.

“I’m sorry, Jungkookie. Come out and talk to me, please?” you beg to the huddled mass of fur under the chair. He stays where he is, shifting in a way you know means he’s settling in for the long haul. You stand up, running to turn off the stove before dashing to your bedroom and throwing on some clothes. After grabbing your bag, you check under the chair again. Jungkook is still there. “I’ll be right back, okay?” you tell him, before rushing out the door.

You all but run out of your apartment building, dodging people on the street as you head to the florist a block and a half away to get a custom bouquet made. It’s ugly as hell, but it’s not supposed to be for looking at. All of the flowers are suitable for rabbits to eat, and you get triple the ones you know Jungkook is particularly fond of.

You rush back to your apartment on a sliver of energy, taking extra care to preserve your gift, but the whole journey takes you less than twenty minutes. You discard your shoes and bag by the door and head straight for the chair, placing your peace offering on the floor before it.

“I have a gift for you,” you say, pulling a white hibiscus from the bouquet and presenting it to him. “Please come out and talk to me, Bun.” You watch as Jungkook hops forward, unable to resist the pull of his favourite flower. You untie the haphazard collection of flowers and lay them out on the decorative wrapping paper for him. It does the trick and draws him out from under the chair. You hold your hand out to him carefully, letting him come to you on his own terms. Jungkook devours a rosebud and hops forward, bumping your hand with his nose. You sigh, tension you didn’t know was building melting from your shoulders.

Somewhat placated, you head back to the kitchen. The pancakes are now cold but nothing that can’t be reheated. You store his breakfast in the fridge and slip a couple bits of banana onto the paper with the flowers. Jungkook leaps at them, devouring them with relish before following you into the kitchen and circling your chair as you eat your pancakes. He reaches up, nudging your foot to get your attention. And by attention, he wants more bananas.

Once you’re all done with breakfast, you move to the living room. There are several episodes of a TV show you and Jungkook have been watching together that you need to catch up on, and that’s your usual plan for the weekend. Jungkook, however, has other plans. He jumps into your lap, purposefully knocking the remote out of your hand. You tangle your fingers through his fur and feel him shudder under your touch.

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong now?” you ask softly, thumb rubbing soothing circles between his eyes. Beneath your hand, Jungkook transforms. He curls in on himself, doing his best to obscure his nudity, and buries his head in your stomach. You run a hand down his back and find his skin is clammy and feverish. “Oh my god, are you sick? Bun, you’re burning up!” you exclaim, panic injected into your tone.

“I’m going into heat. It’s why I keep—why I keep—” His voice is high-pitched and strained again.

“Why you keep rubbing against me?” you finish for him, raking your nails through his long locks. His ears and tail twitch and Jungkook whines. Nodding, he curls in on himself tighter. “You need a partner,” you say matter-of-factly, but he shakes his head in disagreement.

“No. I don’t need a partner...” he says simply, the implication left hanging. You move his ear carefully, brushing his hair from his face and cupping it with one hand. Your thumb strokes his cheekbone until his tightly-clenched eyes open.

 “Then, tell me what you want,” you whisper. His eyes narrow like he’s assessing you. Assessing the full implication of your words and trying to decide how to answer you.

 “Normally I’d mate with someone in a nest—” Jungkook starts before he’s racked by shudders. He buries his face in your stomach again and whines.

 “My bed,” you offer. “You can build a nest there if you need to.”

He shoots upward at your words, watching your face carefully. “But—” His eyes are wide, mouth agape as he draws the logical conclusion but not daring to hope. ��--where will you sleep?” He asks as though he is scared of the answer.

 You carefully brush his hair back from his face, thumbing over a floppy ear. “I c-can—“ you stutter, before taking a deep breath. “I’ll figure something out.” You lean forward, pressing your forehead to his. Your lips are so close like this, close enough to brush against each other as you speak. It’s not quite a kiss, but your intention is clear. “If you need anything—if you want anything...” You trail off. 

 Jungkook wastes no time. He sits up and crawls into your lap, his bare, muscular thighs straddling yours as he kisses you deeply. His hands, no longer rough, cup your face delicately as though he can’t believe he’s been gifted something so precious. Even as his naked hips roll against your stomach.

 “Iwantyouwantyouwantyou. Need you,” he chants between kisses.

 And in an act of madness - or perhaps sanity - you give yourself to him completely.

Next Chapter

[bowieandqueen11]

Wanda Maximoff x Autistic!Reader Headcanons

Request: Hello love, Could I please request Wanda Maximoff dating an autistic!reader would include? Preferably with a female reader, but it really doesn't have to be!

Thank you so much! ♡

This is such a sweet request thank you @lunamooney2406!! Also WandaVision is SO GOOD I literally cannot wait till next week!!

(Also I really really hope this is alright - I tried to do a lot of research about Autism because you guys are awesome and deserve to be represented more in Fanfiction!!)

Although she’s careful not to take you out to places that are too loud, or too bright, in case it triggers your sensory overload, Wanda loves nothing more than to just spend as much quiet time alone in your company as she can.

She just loves being near you so much okay you are the light of her life I’m going to cry she’s lost so much and she loves you so much I-

She’s just super protective, she can’t help it.

Especially after the events in Civil War, with the accident at Lagos leaving her just completely desperate for some warm human contact. She’d love nothing more than for the two of you to just sit side by side on her bed at the Avenger’s Base, flipping through the news channels, or using her powers to flick on the record player in Vision’s room.

She begins to hum along gently, quietly getting up and grabbing her guitar from the corner of the room. Sitting down on one of the nearby barstools, she begins to softly strum along, her foot tapping along with the warm melody of the music.

For that moment, while she was serenading you, it was as if her past had never existed. When she glanced up at you, clutching one of her bed pillows and staring at her in fascination, the small smile she gave you was one of pure wonderment. It was as if you were the only other person to exist in reality.

When she finished, she coughed lightly, scared to realise it was because you were the only other person she couldn’t exist without in this reality.

You, on the other hand, started giggling and clapping your hands in applause at her performance. It was the first time she’d ever heard you laugh, and it was the most beautiful sound in the universe.

That’s why, when you agree to go off the grid with her, she can’t calm the racing in her chest and the grin that tingles at the corners of her lips. Those were some of the best months of her life, just you and her, surrounded by fiery, starlight nights of inky solitude and beacon-glowing, warm, soft Scottish streets that you strolled down, talking about everything and nothing. Or days spent, just reading together in the warmth of a local hotel’s bed, snuggling together on top of the chunky-knit blankets.

If you have an aversion to touch, she always holds her hand out to you, asking if you’d feel comfortable wanting to hold it. She also likes to read to you, her accent soothing as they make the words spark and come alive off the page.

If you like being touched, she loves to tuck her legs over yours, enjoying the feeling of warmth that spreads up her thighs and sends butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She leans forward to kiss your forehead, laughing as the two of you scrunch up your noses familiarly at each other, her oversized jumper tickling her toes.

Even without her powers, she just knows instinctively is something is wrong with you, or if someone has upset you.

She tries to swallow her anger, but sometimes she can’t help but tell of whoever it was, before coming over to help you. She squats down beside you, shooting heated glances at everyone to give the two of you space, before she tries to help you calm down, repeating stories from her childhood in Sokovia, about the pranks she used to play on her brother Pietro when they were younger, about meeting you.

She lights up every time she retells that story, without fail.

She loves to use her powers to treat you - if you want to cook something specific for dinner, you bet the pots and pans are already spinning around in the kitchen, made exactly as you like it. If you accidentally spill something, or drop something, or need to reach something, she won’t even be in the room and STILL it will magically float into your hands.

(She also uses it to cheat at board games or steal some of your snacks when you’re not looking but she’ll never admit to it willingly).

She loves to get out and experience new cultural things, so she constantly takes you to events such as conventions. As you pull her down the aisles of the halls, fingers gripped tight onto hers as you point out different figurines, comics, statues, art - literally it could be anything, she just loves to hear you talk about what you love.

She’s a big fan of ice cream dates - on warm spring afternoons, when the sun is just setting its golden haze down upon the orchid pink wisps of the cotton clouds, she takes you down to a small, solitude spot by a nearby lake. Sitting side by side by the gentle wave of its tide, she reaches over with a giggle to kiss the remnants off your lips. 

If anyone from the Avengers comes to visit you two, she’s so protective that she always makes sure she’s sitting next to you.

She adores it when you try and comb through her hair. Sometimes, it become so curly that you just run your fingers through it instead, and hum in delight at the groan of thanks she gives you.

(You get bonus points if you try and style it without her knowing. Nat, especially, finds it hilarious.)

If she ever gets persuaded to go out on missions, she gives you her signature red leather jacket so you can have a piece of her to hold on to while she’s gone.

When the two of you finally buy an apartment together, she tries to teach you how to cook some of her family’s old recipes, but you end up spilling paprika all over the food, and somehow burn one of the spatulas so she decides to just cook it for you. 

All she wants to do is settle down and love you forever please let her!!!

[ringmyheart]

Heyy, hope I'm not being annoying with so many asks, but could I please get ice feet of death characters of your choice? Thank you so much 😘😍😘🤩😘😍😘

Eli Jang

Eli Jang wasn’t going to push people important to him away anymore - or ever again.

In his past, he’d seen what that had done for him, and it ended disastrous. He wouldn’t keep people at an arms length away anymore, especially people precious to him, and especially not you.

Such an earnest and well meant swear to himself was extremely hard to keep up with, however, when you were besides him and your feet happened to brush against his calf. Feet as cold as fucking ice.

His hand was planted in the middle of your chest, keeping you ironically enough an arms length away from him. When you’d crawled into bed that night, before you could even go under the covers, his hand had shot out and kept you suspended exactly where you were - and you swore you saw a flash of fear in his eyes.

“...”

“...”

You both looked at each other, you perplexed and him worried - of what, you couldn’t say. Cocking a brow, you asked, “is something wrong? Eli?”

He swallowed down a lump in his throat, before removing his hand and returning it to his side. Internally, he hoped you wouldn’t come too much closer. Or at the least, that you’d sleep with your legs bent so he wouldn’t be subjected to the cold with you. He wondered if you were even aware of this…

“No, nothing’s wrong!” He forced a laughed, though no joy reached his eyes; rather, a pained emotion swirled in them.

‘I can’t take another night like this!’

And when you shrugged off his odd behavior and continued settling under the covers, he acted quick. Maybe he could somehow cure this.

“H-hey, it’s winter, and it’s cold.” He lifted himself up with his elbows from the bed and grabbed you by the shoulders spontaneously, steering you to the bathroom. “Why don’t you take a bath?! Since it’s so cold!”

You let him lead you the way there and push you along, confused. “Uh-?”

Sending a skeptical look over your shoulder to Eli, he felt somewhat guilty for suddenly forcing you away. But when he recalled the icy horror he’d be introduced to if he didn’t try and fix it instead, he pushed on - for his well-being as well as yours.

He sent you a smile. “I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold!”

“...” Silence engulfed the two of you before you smiled back. “Aww, that’s sweet. Okay. Don’t worry, I won’t use all the hot water.”

“Please do.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He smiled stupidly, waving you bye while you walked into the bathroom. “Also, make sure your feet are in there.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

When he heard the bath water begin to run, a wave of relief washed over him. Even if the water didn’t permanently cure your case of cold-feet, it’d at least take care of it for a while, right? And then he could sleep comfortably with you tonight, right?

When you were eventually done with the bath and had put clothes back on, you began to crawl back onto bed, getting comfortable as soon as you pulled the sheets over you. He wondered if it’d worked. He could feel heat radiate off of you from his side, and when you shuffled, the side of your heel brushed against his ankle briefly before it was gone in a second.

In that second, it felt like he’d tasted death - and it was freezing.

‘That didn’t work?!’ The top row of his teeth crushed against the bottom row in a quick act of brain storming. He shot up where he sat, catching your attention from how abruptly he’d pulled himself up, and he looked at you. His eyes darted back and forth in thought, before an imaginary lightbulb seemed to light over his head.

“Man, it’s cold tonight, huh?” He said causally, with a fake shiver. You shifted your gaze upwards, thinking for a moment.

“... I’m not that cold, to be hone-“

“You know when people get a really bad cold they actually feel warm?!”

You stared up at him with wide, doe eyes, and he continued passionately. “I don’t want you to be cold! Here, I’ll get you another blanket!”

He sprinted out of the room temporarily, and you stared at him with an indecipherable expression, a few dark lines falling down the top of your face. You just wanted to sleep…

He came back with a wide smile spread across his lips, a blanket in his hands. Holding one corner in each of his hands, he gestured it to you like a car dealer trying to sell a client a car they didn’t really want. “Here!”

He lifted the overs you already had on you, the one the both of you shared, and began to lay the other blanket over you. You remained still, but your features hardened.

“Uhh… why not just put the blanket over the top of the blanket I already have…?”

“Hm?”

His face blanched. If you squinted hard enough, you could almost see a question make appear on the side of his head, and he still smiled - like he was suddenly frozen in that position, and his ability to express other emotions came to a halt. This masked whatever was going on inside his head, and you looked at him with scrutinizing eyes.

“Because I wanted to tuck you in!” His smile widened, and you sighed when he suddenly began tucking the corners of the blanket underneath you. He spent half of the time he spent doing this around your feet, you noticed.

When he was done, he brushed his hands together, like he was admiring his own handiwork. If your feet were covered by a blanket, you could sleep together and he wouldn’t feel the glaciers at the ends of your legs, right?

The plan felt foolproof this time, and the bed dipped underneath his weight until he laid down and got into a position he could remain in. You examined him before shrugging this weird interaction off - again.

“Okay, well… I’m gonna go to sleep.”

He nodded. “Okay, babe. Good night.”

“...” Waiting to see if he was gonna interrupt your trip to dreamland again with some weird request or offer, you curled into his side after an appropriate amount of time passed. Enough time for you to decide he probably was done with his odd behavior.

You miscalculated.

And so did he.

His teeth gritted together, and it felt like he’d come to a horrible realization, a clap of thunder and lightning striking behind him at his moment of mental clarity and terror. ‘Even when under another blanket, their feet are below zero degrees?!’

The already cold weather certainly wasn’t helping, and he was prepared to research webMD to see if cold feet were ever fatal enough to kill you, when another thought rang in his head.

‘Why not just tell them?’

He quickly shook it out of his head. He wouldn’t push you away. He wouldn’t hurt your feelings.

Even at his own expense.

You were shaken awake violently when Eli suddenly suggested the amazing idea of putting heat packs on your feet to keep you safe for the winter night, and you internally groaned for a world-record amount of time. When he’d put the packs on your feet, it was another failed attempt; rather than heating you up, you’d chilled them down. It was like carrying two packs of ice when he went to put them away.

He’d even turned up the AC to see if maybe that would unthaw your feet, but it was fruitless; and it felt like he saw the light when your feet touched his again, and they were like a visit to the Arctic.

Now, not only did he have freezing feet planted on him, but he was also extremely and uncomfortably hot everywhere else with the AC cranked up.

A head of sweat rolled down the side of his head while he glared at the wall, wondering where he went wrong, when he felt you tap his shoulder.

“Hey, Eli?”

“Yeah?” His brow was crinkled in thought as he searched internally for another solution, but your next few words threw him off guard.

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? Why would I be mad at you?” Shock laced the tone of his voice. You paused, skin between your eyes creasing.

“... today, you kept pushing me away from you. I was just wondering if I did something…”

The look on your face was forlorn, and it felt like a dumbbell was dropped on top of his head. In his act of trying to not push you away… it seemed he’d pushed you away worse than what would’ve happened initially. A black hole of guilt consumed his heart, and his lips formed a shaky, remorseful line.

“No, I’m not. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. You didn’t do anything. I was just… I don’t know.”

You glanced at him tiredly, before closing your eyes, chuckling with a half smile and nuzzling further into your pillow. “Oh, okay… I was worried, but I guess it’s fine then.”

“Yeah, it is.” He watched your peaceful sleeping expression, and a genuine smile graced his lips. With a soft countenance, he blinked at you a couple of times, before summoning some courage and taking a deep breath.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Your feet are really cold.”

Your eyes shot open. “For real?”

“Yeah. Like, really cold.”

You averted your eyes from him. “Is that a problem?”

His eyes carried the brunt of his smile for his lips, and they glimmered happily. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “No, it’s no big deal. None at all.”

The small smile on your face you got from hearing those words made Eli come to another conclusion that day.

He wouldn’t push you away - and he would never lie to you again. The temperature of your feet made him nearly faint, but he’d rather die in a blizzard than see that downcast expression on you again.

Vin Jin

“Get your cold feet the fuck off of me.”

“And if I don’t, what will you do? Be mad?”

“I’ll kill you.”

Before the both of you had gone to sleep, Vin Jin had made it very clear to you; do not touch him with your feet. Your arm was okay - but on thin ice, considering your fingers could get pretty chilly, but not your feet. He’d pronounced every syllable in the sentence, even doing little gestures with his hands to paint you a picture. Do. Not. Touch. Him. With. Your. Feet.

He’d fallen sleep before you, and was out like a light an hour after the conversation you’d had. Feeling cold and evil, you decided to go for it anyways, and threw your leg over his. He awakened instantly, and the very first words to you were him telling you to get your cold feet the fuck off of him.

“Is that a promise or a warning?”

“It’s a threat.”

You chuckled, “You don’t have it in you. Y’know, you’d try to kill me, but you’d probably get cold feet. Do you get it? Haha!”

A vein burst in the side of his head, and he kicked your leg away with his grumpily. “I’m not kidding. I’m fast. I’m really fast.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you won’t even see it coming.”

You grinned. “Well then, evade this, fast guy.” You kicked your leg back to his. He went rigid.

“That’s it-!” Grabbing his pillow and leaping up in one swift motion, any remnants of sleepiness in him were expelled, and he jumped onto you; smothering you with the pillow. “Choke out!

Your muffled laughter came from behind the pillow, and you lifted your leg to the part of his which wasn’t covered, and laid the flat of your foot on it. He screamed like he’d been shot.

Falling back onto his side of the bed, he clutched where your foot met his leg. “You cheap tricked bastard! That’s it, come here!”

Wrapping his fingers around your wrist, he pulled you out of bed, and you stumbled over your own feet as you followed wherever he was taking you with no qualms; smile of a winner, eyes of a sinner.

He let go of you in the living room and made a motion for you to sit, and you did - patiently, at that. The sound of running water hit your ears and it didn’t stop for a good few minutes, and then a dripping noise - like something spilling over something - reached you. Vin Jin came stumbling back into the room with a pale of water, and your chest moved as you chuckled.

“Hah, what’s that for - hey, what the hell are you doing?!” When he lifted your foot into the bucket of water, you weren’t too reluctant; warmed after was warm water, and it usually felt good. But this water wasn’t warm; it was burning.

“Ack, get my foot out of there!” You tried to retract it, but he kept a grip around your ankle.

“This is for your own good. And mine!”

“Stop talking like this is some intervention! That waters scorching hot!”

“Your feet are scorching cold!” He sneered.

“That’s not the comeback you think it is. I don’t think you can use that correctly in a sentence, dumbass!”

Eventually you pulled your foot out of the water, and it was burning red. You hissed lowly in pain, and Vin tossed the bucket of water aside, kicking your foot with his lazily to see if there was a change.

He was down immediately, and if he didn’t have sunglasses on, you would’ve seen tears build in his eyes. “What the fuck - how are they still cold?! Go to a doctor!”

You puffed your chest out defensively. “Leave me alone.”

“Whatever,” he said, scratching the back of his head angrily. “I’m going to bed.”

When you didn’t copy him in doing so, he sent you a quizzical look. “What? Don’t tell me you’re butt-hurt. I just called it as it is. You have cold as fuck feet.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sleeping right here, on the couch tonight, since I’m apparently that much of a pain to sleep with.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“All- al frown-y and shit!”

You sent him a sharp glare before turning on your side and laying down. “Im not. I’m just staying here.”

“Cmon.”

“Come on what?”

“If I leave you here, you’ll just stay and at me and won’t talk to me in the morning.” He ran his hand across the top of his head.

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Okay, fine! You can sleep with me. Geez, you’re so high maintenance… just put socks on at least.”

You jumped up from the couch, nothing left of your soured expression. “Yay! Thanks.”

He glanced at you, before turning his head away swiftly with an annoyed blow of air out of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah.” If he’d been facing you, you might’ve caught the tint of pink he was turning. “I’m just a really good boyfriend, that’s all.”

“Yeah you are.” You flattered artificially, and he just clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in faux irritation.

That night, when your feet would drift to his, despite the violent chill running down his spine, he didn’t say a word.

—

The following morning, you and him awoke to a driveway full of snow. You’d went back to sleep, telling him to take care of it. And to his chagrin, he did end up having to do it, and when he came back inside he came to a realization.

His feet were as cold as yours now.

A snake-like smile curved the edges of his lips into a V-shape, malice hiding behind his eyes. Delighted with the realization, he crept back to your room. He couldn’t wait to get into the bed, and subject you to the same horror you’d don’t to him - to turn the tables. And to see you have to suck it up despite hating the frigid feeling crawling up your calf, because he’d done the same for you, and who were you to refuse?

“Hehehehehe.” A childlike laugh fell off his lips, and when he crawled back into bed, he immediately shuffled his legs to touch yours. You slowly, gradually began to tense, and he saw your shoulders uncomfortably rise. He would’ve cackled had you not been besides him.

He finally gave you a taste of your own medicine, a-

“What the hell?” You mumbled, half-asleep. You jerked your foot away from his, and his mouth opened and closed in a state of a shock. “Your feet are freezing… stay over there.”

“Wha-but I—“ His mouth opened and closed.

“Hmmm. But you what?”

Like a fish, he gaped at you, wide eyed and body language expressing his utter shock, and betrayal, both of which mutating into absolute anger. After everything he did for you?! “Wha- Wha- Wha- you fucking-!”

Goo Kim

“You know I love you, right?” Those were the words you were shaken awake to that cold night, and you’d blinked a few times, clearing the blurriness infiltrating your vision.

Groggily, you replied. “...Yeah?” Even the tiredness befuddling your train of thought, you’d known him well on enough that useless flattery always comes before a request. One usually to your inconvenience.

“And you know I’d do anything for you, right?”

“Hm. Yes.”

“And would you do anything for me?”

“... Yeah.”

“Then can you do me this one thing?”

“What?”

His eyes, which previously had glinted with an artificial, saccharine light, lidded. “Keep your feet one million miles away from me.”

There was a soft thud made audible from the lack of any noise in the room when he hit his ankle against yours, the momentum sliding your leg back to your side. As soon as he’d said that he turned back onto the side he was previously facing, sending you the cold shoulder. You groaned at his back.

“But then I’ll be cold.”

Your feet naturally gravitated to the warm side of the bed - his, and he curled into himself, leaving you stranded.

“I only ask of you one thing.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” you scoffed, walking the line between sleep and unconsciousness. “You’ve literally killed people before.”

“You’re killing me.”

“Oh?” If he’d seen you, he’d see your brow curve curiously. “Elaborate.”

“It’s already cold out. You’ll sleep by me, and you’ll drop the temperature around me because you’re so cold, and then I’ll die, and then you’ll go to jail for homicide and then you’ll be sorry.”

“How would being a little cold kill you?”

“Hypothermia.” He answered without missing a beat.

“Huh…” you hummed at how quickly that was thought out, and consequently how poorly. “Maybe my cell mates will hold me.”

“Your heart’s as cold as your feet…”

Your mouth fell open, and you pressed your feet against him again, this time with bad intent. “They are not that cold!”

The moment the bottom side of your foot touched him, he lost out a shrill shriek, and jumped out of the covers like a startled cat.

“I can’t take this anymore!” He yelled, standing to full height and walking over to the foot of the bed. He made a gesture with his hands for you to get up too, and begrudgingly you lifted the covers off of you and got up, rolling your eyes.

“What?”

With his hands, he made a slicing motion over the bed, as if he’d cut it in half. He placed the tips of his fingers on the bed itself and slid them back and forth, like a pizza slicer.

“This,” he was referring to the left side of the imaginary cut he’d made in the bed, “is my side of the bed.” He then slammed his hands on the right side. “And thiiiiis, is yours. Do not cross my side. Capiche?” He titled his head in your face obnoxiously, hands still swinging back and forth as though he was parting the sea.

“One more time. This-“

“I got it the first time! Geez.”

He folded his arms over his chest in an ‘X’. “Do not cross my side! Got it?!”

You narrowed an eye. “So we’re just gonna sleep like this forever?”

“Maybe not in the summer.”

“But then it’ll already be hot and I’ll want my side to myself!” You threw your hands on your hips. “‘Kay, you know what? Fine. Fine! I’ll sleep on my side.” You out your hands up in mock defeat. “You’ll never know the touch of a significant other again.”

“At least I’ll be warm.” He’d nearly hissed it out bitterly, and without sharing another word, you’d huffed and stepped into your side of the bed - sticking close sky to the edge.

All night, you’d slept somewhat soundly - aside from the few times you’d feel a burning, gaping hole in the back of your head. Why he kept looking at you all night, you couldn’t tell. After a while of feeling the pair of eyes from behind on you, you came to the conclusion he was monitoring to make sure you stayed on your side, and your lips fell into a brooding flat line. The bastard…

Eventually you knocked out and didn’t wake back up again - at least, not so easily, and when your eyes finally opened again, it was daylight. Waking up with a yawn, you stretched, the lack of presence by your side not going unnoticed.

At first, you’d tilted your nose skyward frustratedly. Just leaving without saying goodbye - were you seriously that cold? You’d probably continue to anguish over the fact, when you noticed a piece of paper with a letter on the wall that usually wasn’t present, hung atop the dresser.

‘WEAR THESE SO WE CAN SLEEP TOGETHER AGAIN ->’ written in writing so bad you had to squint and analyze it for minutes to decipher it, you unknowingly nodded before following the line of the arrow, seeing it pointed to a pair of socks hung on the dresser. They looked like they were so heavy and thick, they’d drag the entirety of your leg down and indent the floor you walked on with every step, not to mention the ugly, multiple colors - but disregarding that, you smiled at the sentiment. Thanks to the note afterwards, you were able to discern the series of glances to you that night weren’t of skepticism, but regret - or maybe guilt.

Despite the seemingly angry ‘that fucking bastard’ ringing in in your inner thoughts, there was a humorous smile resting on your face.

Taehoon Seong

“Like hell yer sharing a room with that fuckin’ bastard Hobin.”

When he slammed his hand on the register’s desk, both you and her jumped. In spite of his firm tone indicating he’d already made his mind up about this, it was purposeful on his part that his bangs swept across his eyes, and he noticeably flushed red.

You gasped, facial features contorting, aghast. “That’s cold… you can be mad at him, but you don’t have to bring him not having a father into this. We’re only sharing one to save money!”

He threw his hand down back to his sides irately, and the angry expression he held would’ve intimidated you had he not seemed so flustered. You recoiled a little regardless.

“That’s not what I meant, you air-head!” He yelled through gritted teeth. Throughout his thought process, he’d figured if he’d covered up his indignance at you and Hobin sharing a room with an annoyed front and changed it quickly, he’d be able to avoid having to face your confrontation on why he was so concerned. And he’d figured by doing this, he’d be able to avoid confronting his feelings for you himself as well.

However, as reckless and spontaneous as he acted, hiding his true intentions, his embarrassment was thinly veiled.

He sent the lady behind the check-in register a glare. “Change it.”

She began to type something, and you could visibly see a layer of sweat beam on her forehead nervously. “Uh, s-so I’m switching you two to be in the same room, right?” She stammered out, hurriedly complying, and you scoffed.

“Wha-?! Do I just not get a say in this?!”

Your objection was shut down swiftly by a glower being sent your way, triggering your flight or fight response. “What?” He seethed, head tilting back threateningly, “are you saying you want to share a room with that loser?” The dark aura surrounding him seeped into the atmosphere, and you shuddered.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you gave in. “Ah - uh, well, I don’t mind either, I guess… heh…”

Hitting one last letter on her keyboard, the lady behind the register spoke up, grabbing your synchronized attention. “Alright, so,” she squinted at her screen, “Hobin is now in a room alone, and you two are sharing one. Is that right?”

Wanting the entire ordeal over with, he nodded furiously, before grabbing your wrist and leading you along behind him. You’d protest and inquiry further, but truthfully, it felt nice to be wanted, even if the reason why wasn’t made clear to you.

-

“Oh, man.” You chided casually, hand sliding off the strap of your backpack to rest at your side. “Only one bed… how cliche.”

You made sure to implicate a sense of normalcy to your words, trying to make this feel like no big deal at all. By your side, he just stood still, like a frozen statue. His eyes were wide, and you couldn’t tell if it was shock or agitation.

Engulfed in silence, you waited to see if he’d say anything, but were met with no response. “Well… looks like one of us is gonna have to sleep on the floor.” Secretly, you hoped he would be ‘one of us’. However, he provided an alternative.

Dropping his bag on the floor with an extra amount of force so it’d slam onto the ground, he stormed to the bed, leaving you standing idly at the door. Curling into the farthest possible left corner of the mattress, he shrunk into himself somewhat, blowing out of his nostrils.

“Whatever,” he shrugged, “it’s no big deal. I don’t give a damn.” His gaze made sure to avoid yours like the plague before this, but now he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, patiently; awaiting your reaction somewhat… worriedly. Concerned to what you’d say, and wether it would be an indirect rejection against him, or a more pleasant answer.

Secretly, you’d wished this unforeseen circumstance would’ve elicited more of a reaction. If he liked you, he probably would’ve refused instantly, right?

It felt like you were being friend zoned, the way he want about it so mundanely, and your face was blank as your thoughts grew more and more forlorn and disappointed. You’d gotten lost in them after a while, like a-

“Are you gonna fuckin’ say anything?”

Snapping you out od your thoughts, you redirected your focus to the moment at hand, and quickly made a decision.

“Hmf…” you stared at him with wide eyes briefly, before humming. “Alright.” You slung your backpack off of your shoulder. “If you don’t care, neither do I.”

He went slack at your words, releasing a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. When your weight dipped under the bed as you climbed on, his eyes were faced forwards; but he was acutely aware of every shift and creak of the bed.

“...” Glaring at the wall, his face felt hot again. So close…

“Well,” you smiled. “Good night, then.”

Strands of hair fell over his face when he sent you a look over his shoulder scrutinizingly, before he fixed his vision forwards again, resting his head on his hands. “Yeah, yeah… ‘night or whatever. Just stay on your side.”

You’d fallen asleep much quicker than he had, his heart skittering too loudly in his skull for him to catch any rest, until your even and serene breaths lulled him asleep as well.

Normally, he was a fairly heavy sleeper. However that night, he was instantly pulled from his dreams, and his eyes abruptly snapped open when he felt a glacial cold on the lower extremity of his leg.

He awoke to a piercing cold.

You were woken when you went flying off the bed, sent by a kick to the middle of your stomach. Any sleepiness remaining in you was expelled the moment you collided with the floor, rolling a bit from the momentum.

With a pained groan, you lifted yourself on your elbow. “Hey, what the hell?!” You griped, looking up to see he’d rolled onto your side of the bed - or at least, what was your side of the bed, eyes narrowed at you from above.

Rubbing the part of your head which had hit the floor, you scowled. “What’s your problem? Don’t tell me you’re a sleep kicker…”

Remnants of exhaustion were still evident under the crevices of his eyes, however that didn’t impede the lour he directed to you. “Yer sleep in’ on the floor tonight.”

You looked oddly sad at that, shoulders boxing into a square. “Wha- what did I do?!”

The blades of his shoulders stiffened up to his jaw, and he squawked. “Don’t tell me you don’t know! Your feet are fuckin’ freezing!”

You seemed to ponder for a moment, internally wondering if they really were that cold - it’s not like you’d ever slept with anyone before in the same bed. Eyeing your unnecessarily intense expression, he stubbornly scoffed, before retreating back to his side of the bed. Not that he it was needed, as he’d claimed the entire thing for his own.

And you’d been banished from your own bed. The one in the room he argued you’d stay in!

Furiously, you picked yourself up to your feet, and stormed back to the bed. You didn’t even have to listen to him, he didn’t own the room, right?

Your rampage was cut short when he noticed you approaching, and swung his legs off the corner of the bed you were headed towards defensively. With your means of getting up now hindered, you wondered if you could just walk around to the other side and hop on, but realized he’d probably make it there before you. And then you’d be faced with the same situation, so it’d be easier to just handle it here and now.

Leaning down and summoning the most menacing stare you could to match his own, you started speaking. “Let me on.”

“No way.”

Frowning deeply, you tried to attempt overreaching past him and somehow mauevering yourself onto the bed from then. You weren’t gonna sleep on the floor; not in a room you were told to be in by the very guy kicking you off the mattress. Your hand flashed past the arch of his neck to reach the bed behind him, but mid-way a blur of pasty skin was quicker than your motion; and you found your hand blocked by the side of his palm. You scowled lowly, and tried again on the other side of his head, but met the same outcome.

Intimidatingly, he stood, but you stared him down, trying to be as unpredictable as possible. With a small groan of exertion, you tried to fly your hand past him, but this time it was kicked away by the head of his foot; and you let out an “ouch”.

“Yikes, that stings, asshole!” You growled, before going at it again, and being kicked again - this time stumbling aback from the force. This kept going for a prolonged amount of time, you reaching and him deflecting your attacks.

“Damnit!” You reached - he kicked. “Let me-“ this time you tried to glide besides him and jump into the bed with your entire body wholly. He kicked your shoulder back, and you heard it pop. “-get on-“ you went for the other side. He blocked. “-the fucking bed!” With a sudden surge of confidence spurred from your fatigue, you just jumped with no prior plan or idea and mind. His foot crashed into your stomach, and you lost your breath when you were propelled back, and hit the floor.

Now on the floor again, you somewhat subsided to your fate, and a few minutes passed as he’d gotten back into the bed to your upmost chagrin, and you were stuck on the cold hard floor. Drawing senseless doodles into the floor with your finger, you grumbled to yourself angrily.

“-fucking inviting ME to HIS room ‘nd then kicking ME off the bed… little asshole… one of these days…”

You considered how things would’ve turned out had he not interfered with the rooming plan for whatever reason he did. “Yoo Hobin would never treat me like this…”

You could hear the sheets beneath him shuffle as his upper body went taut, and it creaked when he sat up and glared at you again. “What did you just say?” Despite his harsh and cold tone, he looked somewhat guilt-ridden.

Feeling especially spiteful, you averted your gaze to the floor again and continued your nonsensical tracing of the floorboards. “Oh, nothing, I just said that YOO HOBIN WOULD NEVER TREAT ME LIKE THIS.” Your tone was casual, but near the end you amplified your voice as loud as possible to draw out the guilt in him. It was deserved, that’s what he gets for kicking you off.

You picked yourself up, headed towards the door. “Maybe I’ll just go sleep with him…” you knew deep down you wouldn’t. You didn’t want to wake him up if he was asleep, but you hoped he would somehow stop you before you reached the door. If not, to save your pride, you’d continue to storm out the door and then just wander the halls ‘till daylight.

“... Fine. You can sleep here… just stay the hell away from me.”

You beamed, mood doing a complete 180. “Really?!” You clasped your hands together gratefully. “Thanks so much! Don’t worry, I’ll stay on my side.”

You jumped onto the bed, now appreciating it much more than before, and when you’d finally settled comfortably your eyes fluttered to a close. It would’ve been extremely peaceful, had you not felt a sudden pressure against your chest.

Eyes blinking open, you arched a brow when you saw him posed to kick you, keeping his leg besides your upper body.

“... And what’s this for?” You asked, unnerved. He lidded his eyes at you.

“To make sure you keep your cold feet on your fucking side… if you cross over, I’ll freaking kill you.”

“Aren’t you technically on my side now and infringing upon the rules you set yourself?”

The look of hatred he sent you made you chuckle nervously, a drop of sweat sliding down your forehead. “Heh… okay…” with a sigh, you just gave in. “Well, it certainly beats sleeping on the floor.”

He glared at you broodingly, in spite of the red color painting his face. You closed your eyes and smiled, content.

“Goodnight.”

“If I feel yer feet come on my side, you won’t live to see daylight.”

That was good enough for you. Signing tiredly through an exhale, you fell asleep, him watching your peaceful expression until he drifted off too.

(Unedited)

Ur not annoying me w ur requests at all!!!! I love writing them, u could never annoy me by requesting lol DONT worry!! I hope this was what u wanted w ur ask, it ended up rlly long and unexpectedly sweet? and I’m not certain if u have read how to fight, but if u haven’t, based on ur last few requests I think u would like taehoon, wangguk and thus one other guy who’s name I don’t remember but his hair is in a bun LOL. It’s by the same author if lookism so if u haven’t read it I definitely recommend it!!!!! Ty for requesting ❤️❤️❤️

[jungshookz]

cee cee i have an idea!!! what about Cool and Cultured bookshop owner! tae and dorky y/n walking past the store everyday and one day goes in and strikes a conversation about a fancy book like catcher in the rye and talks about the symbolism of rye in the book and tae's like :0 das wildly inaccurate but you're kinda cute so here's my number so we can talk more about rye and y/ns like :0

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; wowowow handsome & well-read bookkeeper!taehyung, fluff!!!! the kind of fluff that makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket sipping on a mug of hot chocolate on a nice autumn’s day when the leaves are just starting to turn red and orange, y/n’s kind of a dummy but in a very loveable kind of way, featuring namjoon the (sort of) wingman

➺ wordcount; 6.2k

➺ summary; the catcher in the rye? oh, sure - of course you know that book! it’s about catching loaves of bread, right?

➺ what to expect; “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

➺ note; our (first??) drabble of the month as voted by you guys! i finished writing this the day after it was decided that bookkeeper!tae was the winner because that’s how excited i was about him >:-) enjoy! 

                                        »»————-　➴　————-««

“and… open your eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up into the air excitedly as namjoon takes his hands away from his eyes

he blinks owlishly before looking up and-

“you brought me to a bookstore!” he gasps, a smile immediately spreading over his features as he claps his hands together, “oh, this is great! usually, you bring me to those awful rock-climbing places, or that horribly violent paintball gun place, and even when you brought me to the movie theatre the tickets were for that gory r-rated horror movie-”

“okay, let’s not get carried away-” you hold a finger out to shut namjoon up before he can list out moRe reasons as to why you seem more like you hate him instead of love him, “the point is: this time, i brought you to a bookstore!” you smile proudly before crossing your arms

not to toot your own horn or anything but you did a pretty good job with this surprise

you even did tons of research to find the best bookstores in the city!!

which was difficult because namjoon’s been to like.,,. EVERY bookstore in the city

but not this one!

to be fair, it was a long forty-five minute car ride to get here so you understand why he’s never come out here himself

“…this isn’t like… a weird bookstore or anything, right?” namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before taking a step back and looking up at the name of the store again

the secret garden

oh!!!!

like the book!!!!

how clever :D

“what do you mean?” you frown, placing your hands on your hips before glancing back up at the name as well

the secret garden

hm

kind of a lame name for a bookstore

“like a…” namjoon trails off before clearing his throat, “you know, like a bookstore that’s actually a sex dungeon or something like that-”

“ew!” you immediately make a face before shaking your head quickly, “wha- why would you even say that?!”

“well, i don’t know!” namjoon holds his hands up in defence, “i’ve never been to this bookstore before-!”

“this is a regular ol’ bookstore, joon. i promise!” you clap your hands on his shoulders before giving him a squeeze, “just the way you like it! old, dusty, and full of nothing but boring books.”

namjoon beams

that’s exactly what he likes to hear

see, today is your seven year friendaversary with namjoon

you guys have known each other since middle school and noW the two of you are in your final year of university which is crazy

and so, for the past seven years, you’ve gone out on this day to celebrate your beautiful friendship because honestly you’ll take whatever excuse to go to a restaurant to try to get free dessert (“yeah, we’re celebrating our anniversary! so, i’ll take three orders of your chocolate lava cake-”)

you guys usually take turns where one year one of you will plan an entire day of fun activities for the other, and then the next year, the other person will do it because that seems like a relatively fair system

last year, namjoon took you to this cute pottery place and you ended up making these adorable matching friendship mugs

they’re both a little lopsided but that’s just part of their charm!!

namjoon painted his a beige-brown and you painted yours a BRIGHT purple and then you traded mugs (so that when he comes over to your apartment, he has his mug, and when you go over to his apartment, you have your mug!)

he also insisted that you guys carve your guys’ initials on the bottom of yours and draw a heart around it which you thought was a little much but you are… very fond of namjoon so you’d jump off a cliff if he asked you to

admittedly, most of the things that you’ve planned during your years have been catered to your own personal desires so you’ve been a little unfair but namjoon’s always been too much of a sweetheart to say anything about it

and for the most part, he’s a pretty good sport even though it’s blatantly obvious that he’d rather chop a toe off than spend the afternoon doing your chosen activity

the last time it was your turn two years ago, you took him to a go-cart track and spent the entire two hours practically driving circles around him because he was driving like ten kilometres an hour

the only reason why he wasn’t driving like one is supposed to drive on a go-cart track (i.e. like a maniac) is because he was worried that if he went too fast he’d get a ticket or something

and kim namjoon does not get speeding tickets

not on the real road and most certainly not on a man-made road either!

for the record, he definitely didn’t appreciate you calling him a slowpoke and telling him to eat my dust, bitch! and he still brings it up from time to time whenever he wants to guilt you into doing something with him (“i’m not switching muffins with you. it’s not my fault you don’t like yours!” “…hey, remember that time you called me a slowpoke and told me to-”  “take the muffin.”)

anyways

he’s glad that this is just a normal bookstore and that he doesn’t have to worry about whether or not one of your activities is going to end in him losing a limb for the first time

what a wonderful way to end the day!!

actually, you guys still have to grab dinner after this where you’ll try to squeeze as many free desserts out of the restaurant as possible as per usual so this is a wonderful way to almost end the day

the little bell hanging above the door chimes as the two of you step in and almost immediately you’re greeted with the warm smell of what you’re pretty sure is hot chocolate??

“i love this place already.” namjoon breathes out, his jaw dropping in awe, “i wanna live here!”

“okay, keep it in your pants-” the door starts to shut and you nudge namjoon forward to keep from getting your butt nipped by the door

you don’t even get a chance to say anything else before namjoon suddenly darts off

so much for keeping it in his pants

you pause when you get a good look at the place

huh

for some reason you feel like a lot of instagram pictures have been taken here

it’s obviously an antique place but it’s like one of those trendy antique places

a brass chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the (fake) candles casting a golden glow over the entire store

there’s a spiral staircase that curls up to the second floor

the walls are covered with floor to ceiling shelves stacked with, duh, books, but even for what you thought would just be a dusty old bookstore… it’s pretty nice in here!

there’s even an archway in the centre of the place that leads to what looks like a pretty cozy reading space for customers which is a nice touch

and there are people sipping on mugs of hot chocolate too!!!

you can’t help but wonder if you need to be reading a book in order to get a mug of cocoa

you like the hot chocolate part but you’re not as excited about the reading part

“y/n, come on!” you look over to see namjoon - who already has three books cradled in his arms - waving you over enthusiastically, “check it out! it’s a vintage boxed set of the chronicle of narnia series! and they’re leatherbound-“ he practically moans before nudging you towards it, “help me take it out?”

“narnia?” you snort, tilting your head so you can look at the titles pressed into the spine of the book, “isn’t narnia, like… for kids?”

the last time you read the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe was when you had to read it for a book report in like the fourth grade

you glance over your shoulder to look at namjoon who now has an unimpressed frown on his face

“what??”

“…you insult me.” he sniffles, “just help!”

you roll your eyes playfully before turning back to pull the thick set out of the shelf and-

“hello!”

“-!”

the sudden sound of a stranger’s voice nearly makes you drop the set but you manage to prop the edge of the box back up onto the shelf before it falls and breaks all the bones in your foot

you turn to look at whoever-

oh my

hello indeed

“welcome to the secret garden.” he smiles kindly, tilting his head at you, “did you need any help with that, miss?”

oh good god

his voice makes you feel like you’re wading through a river of warm caramel

and you’d happily let yourself drown in that river

two seconds go by where you don’t respond at all and instead you continue staring at mr. caramel with very obvious hubba-hubba eyes

“i think we’re good, thank you!” namjoon clears his throat, elbowing your back gently before offering a smile of his own

“oh, alright! well, my name’s taehyung,” taehyung reaches up to adjust his glasses, “please let me know if you need assistance of any kind - i’ll just be up at the front. if you’re just here to relax and read, i’d be happy to whip up two mugs of hot chocolate for the two of you!”

“awesome! thank you.” namjoon nods all while you continue smiling at taehyung dazedly

he waits until taehyung disappears before turning back and looking at you

“…what’s wrong with you?”

“i’m good, thank you…” you whisper your very delayed response and namjoon moves his head so that he’s blocking your view when you lean back a little to try to look at taehyung sitting behind the front counter, “holy moly. i’d let him explore my secret garden-”

“oh, now look who can’t keep it in their pants-“

“hey, you should look at this as a good thing!” you grunt as you adjust the hefty box in your arms, “now i’ll willingly drive you back here… whenever you want.”

namjoon’s eyes immediately light up

                                         »»————-　➴　————-««

you and namjoon end up returning to the bookstore about two weeks later

last time, namjoon wanted to stay longer (and so did you, honestly) buT you were pretty close to losing your dinner reservations and you weren’t about to give up your free chocolate lava cake just to stare at the cute bookkeeper from afar like a creep

so you had to leave!

namjoon ended up leaving with the boxed set and a couple other books so suffice to say, he was pretty happy

and when you suggested visiting the bookstore again this week… well, namjoon had to jump on that opportunity, didn’t he??

you?? offering to take him to a bookstore?? again??

you’re obviously only using him as an excuse to go into the bookstore so you can spend hours watching taehyung like a weirdo but he’ll take it

namjoon hums happily as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate before licking a little bit of whipped cream off his top lip

he wonders if taehyung would be willing to share the recipe to it because this is honestly the best hot chocolate he’s ever had

namjoon looks up from his book when he hears you let out a sigh for the tenth time in the last two minutes

oh god

look at you!

“oh… and he’s good with kids, too?” you sigh blissfully as you prop your elbow up on the arm of the sofa chair before leaning your cheek against your fist

you watch fondly as taehyung gets down on one knee, holding two fists out for a little girl

she taps his right hand shyly before quickly wrapping her arms back around her mom’s leg, peeking at him from behind it shyly 

taehyung flips his wrist around and uncurls his fingers to reveal a single caramel, his face lighting up briefly as she takes it from his open palm into her little hand 

“i don’t know why you can’t just go up and talk to him-” namjoon snorts at how lovestruck you look before peering around the corner of the archway to look at taehyung too, “it’s not a big deal. he’s really nice!”

“i can’t just go up and talk to him. are you kidding me?” you frown, shaking your head, “what am i supposed to say??”

“tell him you need help finding a book!” namjoon states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world (because it is) before slapping the book on his lap shut, “just out of curiosity - what book would you ask him to help you find?”

you lean back against the sofa chair before twisting your lips in thought

hm

book?

what book…

what was the last book you read…?

ooh!

“esio trot!” you perk up, namjoon’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion because he has no idea what just came out of your mouth-

“esio- oh my god, esio trot as in the roald dahl children’s novel??” namjoon frowns, “no! you can’t go up to taehyung and ask him to help you find esio friggin’ trot-”

“okay, you don’t see me making fun of you for buying what you bought last week, mr. chronicles of narnia-”

“you did make fun of me!” namjoon gawks, “in fact, you’re still making fun of me for it-” he waves his hand to cease the conversation, “listen to me. from the very few times that i’ve spoken to taehyung, it’s clear that he’s… cultured, you know?”

“cultured… like yogurt.” you joke, slapping your own knee gently, “get it?? because yogurt is cultured? cultured yogurt??”

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes

see?

this is exactly what he’s talking about

“…yes, y/n. i get it. anyways, as i was saying- taehyung is just very…” namjoon kisses his teeth as he tries to think of how to phrase his words, “…well-read… intelligent… scholarly… refined…”

you tilt your head in curiosity as namjoon continues listing out a bunch of snooty sounding adjectives

wait a minute

“are you-” you scoff, straightening up in your seat, “are you calling me dumb??”

hey!!

you’re not dumb!!!

it’s not like books are super complicated to figure out or anything

all you have to do is read what’s inside of it and you certainly know how to read!!!

and sure, sometimes you still don’t know if receive is spelt receive or recieve or if business is spelt buisness or biusness, but that doesn’t mean that you’re dumb!!

“no, no, i’m not calling you dumb!” namjoon shakes his head quickly, “i’m just saying that if you had a choice, you would choose a movie over a book-”

“well, yeah - obviously i would choose a movie over a book.” you snort, “why would i waste eight hours reading tiny little words on stiff white pages when i could be watching a movie that compresses the entire story in a convenient one hour and a half??”

“i’m your friend, and i don’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself!” namjoon argues, “because if you do, then you’ll be too embarrassed to ever come back here again, which means that i’ll never be able to come back here again-”

“what’s stopping you from coming here by yourself?”

“because every time i tell you that i’m going to the bookstore, you’re going to ask me a bunch of taehyung related questions when i get back-”

okay

that’s a fair point

that sounds like something you would do for sure

“alright, fine!” you huff before crossing your arms, “what book do you suggest i go up there and ask him to help me find?”

namjoon twists his lips in thought

hm…

“catch her in the eye!” you chirp, folding your hands behind you book as you smile brightly at taehyung

namjoon feels his own face flush at how confidently you just said that and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaMING

he told you to ask taehyung to help you find the catcher in the rye

NOT CATCH HER IN THE EYE

“the catcher in the rye?” taehyung nods, “sure! of course i can help you find the catcher in the rye.” he returns a smile as he steps out from behind the counter, “follow me, please!”

you shoot namjoon a big thumbs up and a faT grin as you pass by the entrance of the archway and he gives you a weak one in return before turning back and slumping against the couch

oh boy

…he’s never going to come back to this beautiful bookstore, is he?

“you were here about two weeks ago, weren’t you?” taehyung asks as he looks over his shoulder, the two of you trotting up the spiral staircase, “with your… boyfriend, right? you guys bought the boxed narnia set.”

“hm? oh!” you let out a little laugh, “yes, that was us, but joon- namjoon’s just my friend. um, that day was actually our seven-year friendaversary and he’s a real dork for books so i thought it’d be nice to bring him here-”

it’s in that moment that you suddenly hear namjoon’s voice in your head reminding you that you’re supposed to act like yoU like reading too

“i mean-” you clear your throat, “i, too, really like books, so i- you know, it was a mutually pleasant experience for the both of us t-to be here-” you chuckle nervously

hopefully you were able to save your own ass there

that was a close call!!

you trail behind taehyung as the two of you weave in and out of the bookshelves

you didn’t get a chance to come up to the second floor last week

but it’s surprisingly nice up here!!  

there’s a lone sofa chair in the corner with a little coffee table sitting next to it

very nice for customers who prefer to read alone

“ah, well, that’s very thoughtful of you!” taehyung nods before suddenly pausing, “i’m so sorry-” he spins around and you nearly bump into his chest but you manage to stop yourself just in time, “i just realised i never got your name.”

“y/n. i’m- i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out quickly for him to shake

you feel a little zap! travel from your fingertips to the rest of your body as soon as taehyung takes your hand in his

he gives you a gentle shake before squeezing your hand lightly and then letting go, “well, it’s very nice to meet you, y/n. now, give me a second to find the catcher in the rye for you…”

taehyung turns to thumb through the books on the shelf and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as how pretty he looks from the side

wowie

you can’t help but take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you continue to admire taehyung’s features from the soft swoosh of his hair to the rosy pink of his lips

how can one man be so pretty?

“ah- here we are!” taehyung pulls a book out of the shelf and you quickly snap yourself out of your daze, “the catcher in the rye… a novel by j.d. salinger.” he hands it to you and you take it before blinking down at the cover

…the catcher in the rye?

what happened to catch her in the eye???

“it’s a great book.” taehyung hums, “have you read it before?”

“oh, i… i have!” you scoff, making a face, “duh, of course i have. i mean, it’s… you know, it’s such a… um, a powerful novel…” you clear your throat before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “i mean, the last time i read it was actually in… high school… so… you know, i’ve forgotten most of the details but i figured it’d be nice to get a refresher, you know?”

(you never read this in high school.)

((you just made namjoon summarise the entire book to you in the form of a poorly drawn stickman comic and even then you still didn’t fully understand the story.))

“absolutely! there’s nothing wrong with revisiting old friend from the past,” taehyung chuckles lightly, “in fact, i was reading animal farm the other day- what kind of literature do you typically read?”

you press your lips together tightly

oh god

namjoon didn’t prepare you for additional questions  

literature??

quick!

what kind of literature do you typically read??

…

tell him you read all kinds of literature!

that sounds like a legitimate answer, right?

“i... read… all-”

you’re cut off by the sound of a bell chiming from below and you let out a breath of relief when taehyung scurries past you to peer over the balcony

“i’ll be right there!” he holds a finger up at the customer waiting by the front counter before spinning around to face you again, “was there anything else you needed, y/n?”

“wha- i-” you stammer, unable to come up with a non-creepy reason to keep him up here with you, “no! no, this was-” you give the front cover a hearty slap, “this was all i needed-”

“perfect!” taehyung claps his hands together, “well, let me know. you know where i am!”  

he disappears down the staircase before you even get a chance to thank him

the smell of his cologne lingers in the air as you make your way down the staircase and you can’t help but beat yourself up over how your interaction with taehyung went

it wasn’t a bad interaction or anything

in fact, you think you did a pretty good job at acting like a bookworm!!

it’s just that…

you don’t think it was a particularly memorable interaction for taehyung

that was just a typical customer interaction for him

you were supposed to charm him!!!

impress him!!

sweep him off his feet!!!

tickle his brain!!

“hey, buddy…” namjoon coos as you plop back down on the sofa chair, “how… did it go?”

he’s afraid to hear your answer because it certainly looks like it didn’t go super well

damnit

he knows this moment is about you but now he’s thinking about how he’ll probably never be able to taste this delicious hot chocolate ever again

“got the book.” you grumble, tossing it onto the coffee table before shaking your head, “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

“yeah, i… uh, i heard you.” namjoon nods understandingly, crossing one leg over the other before leaning back against the couch, “i don’t think he heard you say that, though! i mean, he knew what you were looking for right away.”

namjoon knows you well enough to see that you’re currently spiralling down a self-pity hole right now

oh boy

“hey, you know what’ll make you feel better?” he leans forward to give your knee a comforting squeeze

“what?”

“how about i buy this for you so you can read it and fully impress taehyung next time with your newfound knowledge-“ namjoon points to the book you’ve abandoned on the table, “and then we can go for chocolate lava cake!”

your eyes widen slightly

“free chocolate lava cake?”

“no, not free-“ namjoon snorts, getting up from the couch before reaching back to pick up his bag, “i mean, i’ll pay for it. my treat! so, yeah. i guess it’s kinda free for you.”

“that sounds nice!” your frown is almost instantaneously replaced by a grin, “if i get more free things from you just for being sad, i’m going to be sad more often-”

“what?? no! do not pretend to be sad just to get me to pay for things-”

taehyung glances over from the front counter when he hears a twinkly laugh and he can’t help but smile lightly at the sight of you giggling away in the sofa chair

your nose scrunches slightly as you let out a little snort and he presses his lips together to keep himself from beaming too wide

y/n, huh? cute.

                                          »»————-　➴　————-««

(taehyung can’t stop thinking about you and your absurdly cute face.)

                                         »»————-　➴　————-««

it’s another two weeks later that you come back to the secret garden - but this time, you come alone.

and to be honest, you… don’t know if this was a good idea or not

because joon was with you for the last two times and you were definitely using him as a security blanket so now you feel like you’re about to dive into the deep end of the pool without any floaties

you were going to ask if he wanted to come with you but you felt like this was something that you had to do alone

you swallow thickly as you tuck your car keys into your pocket

namjoon can’t be your bookworm wingman forever, right?

the store is almost suspiciously quiet as you step in, the little bell ringing above your head as per usual

your classes ended a little later today which is why you weren’t able to come in the afternoon

pluS you had to find a way to get namjoon to go home without you without raising any eyebrows so that sucked up a little more of your time

you were going to tell him that you were going to stay on campus to study at the library but even you couldn’t believe that

so you told him that you had a group project to work on which was why you couldn’t have dinner with him tonight!

you jump in surprise when the door suddenly slams shut behind you from the breeze

it’s a little chillier now that it’s november but it’s nice that you get to wear cozy cardigans and snuggly sweaters now

“i’ll be right there!”

you hear taehyung’s voice ring out from the second floor and you swallow your nerves as you stand up a little straighter

fake it till you make it, right?

i love books

i love books so much

i love books so much that i would fuck a book if i could!

...okay, maybe not that one.

you glance around the store - there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here

which makes sense because the sign says that the store closes at 7pm on weekdays and it’s…

6:50

wow

so you’RE the asshole who comes into the place ten minutes before closing time

good one!

“so sorry for the wait, i was just-” taehyung pauses on the steps, his face immediately lighting up when he sees you, “oh, y/n!”

“hi!” you chirp before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “sorry i came ten minutes before you’re supposed to close… i wanted to come earlier, but i had a thing…”

“oh, don’t even worry about it!” taehyung snorts, tossing the dirty rag over his shoulder, “i was just doing some dusting…”

you feel your mouth go drY as soon as you notice what he’s wearing

he’s wearing a henley tee (except all the buttons are undone and aLso he has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows), dark wash jeans, and a pair of tattered black converse sneakers

it’s just the casualness of it all that makes it so sexy

“so, what can i help you with tonight?” taehyung tosses the rag onto the counter before pushing his glasses back down from the top of his head

he adjusts them slightly before blinking at you and you find it awfully cute that his doe eyes now look a little bigger through the thick lenses

what can he help you with tonight?

…yeah, what can he help you with tonight?

the downside of not telling namjoon about your solo mission is the fact that namjoon’s usually the one who plans every little detail out for you

and you just came here on a whim

you don’t have a plan

you don’t have a plan at all!

your plan was to just come to the bookstore to see taehyung because you wanted to see taehyung

“i…”

“oh, by the way-” taehyung perks up suddenly, “how was your little trip down memory lane with the catcher in the rye?”

the catcher in the rye?

the catcher in the rye!!!

ah! yes!!

that’s definitely something to talk about!

…wait a second

you-

you didn’t read the book

oh god

you had two weeks to read the book and you didn’t read the book

almost immediately you feel your anxiety sPike back up and you can’t help but scold yourself for not bringing namjoon along with you

if namjoon was here, you’d just get him to say all the main points and you’d stand right next to him throwing in the occasional ‘yes, very good point!’ and ‘of course, i completely agree’ every now and then!

“the catcher in the rye!” you blurt out, suddenly aware that you haven’t spoken in like ten seconds, “i- yes! the book was- it was great. i thoroughly enjoyed it. i would definitely read it again!”

“hey, that’s great!” taehyung laughs lightly, “you know- i mean, i have to ask because i always ask this question to people who’ve read it- what do you think the main theme of it is?” taehyung hums, “because i’ve always thought it focused a lot on alienation, you know? i mean, a loss of innocence is obviously another theme, what, with holden wanting to be sheltered from the harshness of adult life- i really think it can actually be seen as some kind of social commentary… like a critique of the superficiality in society-”

“of course, i completely agree!” you nod furiously, “those are very good points-”

“i’m sorry, i’m probably sucking up all the oxygen in the room-” taehyung smiles sheepishly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “so what do you think?”

if there was ever a moment for a black hole to appear in the floor and swallow you whole… you’d want for it to happen right now.

actually, you’d want it for it to happen whilst you were driving to the bookstore so that you wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to say hi to taehyung

“i think… well, i… first of all, i agree completely with everything that you just said about aliens and… you know, a loss of innocence and how hard adult life is…” you stumble over your words, your face beginning to flush from how idiotic you probably sound, “i just… i have to talk about my favourite part in the book! you know, the part where holden- holden, that’s the name that you just mentioned- he… he does such a great job at catching those loaves of bread. i thought that part was hilarious.”

you clear your throat at the end of your mini-review

taehyung’s eyes flicker slightly and for a second you think you’re in danger of being called out for obviously noT having read the book but…

he nods slowly and brings his hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully, “i mean… yeah. i completely agree! that part always gets me! why don’t you go on? i’m interested in hearing more of your thoughts.”  

oh

oh!

hey, would you look at that??

phEW

maybe you’re better at improvising than you thought you were

now knowing that you’re on the right track gives you a booST of confidence and you give yourself a mental pat on the back

you can’t wait to tell namjoon about this

he’s going to be so proud of you!!

you grin before nodding enthusiastically, “of course! i have a lot of thoughts to share on the book. i mean, i personally think it was an interesting choice on the author’s part to choose rye as the main ingredient, because he had… so many other options that he could’ve gone with! and also - did he go with light rye or dark rye?? because throughout the entire novel, he never actually specifies what kind of rye bread he’s referring to-”

taehyung leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, smiling politely as he continues to listen to your rye bread rant

it’s obvious that you definitely didn’t read the book but he was genuinely curious as to what you would be able to pull out of your ass which was why he asked you to go on

he doesn’t think anyone’s ever gone into a full-blown ramble about how the catcher in the rye is actually a narrative on the benefits on rye bread for lil ol’ him before

but, for the record… 

it’s really cute how much effort you’re putting into your analysis to try to impress him

“i’m sorry, i need to- i need to interrupt you-” taehyung giggles, cutting you off right as you’re about to dive into a discussion about the number of loaves holden caught in the novel, “as much as i would love to hear more… everything that’s coming out of your mouth is wildly inaccurate, y/n.”

what

...

oh my god.

“wh-” your throat goes dry and you choke a little, “what?”

“be honest- did you read the book?” taehyung asks flat-out and you feel your cheeks burning up again

uh-oh

“i…”

okay

forget it

you can’t do this anymore!

it’s too stressful!!!!

“…no.” you press your lips together before shooting taehyung a sheepish grin, “there’s no catching loaves of bread in the novel, is there?”

“not even one loaf.”

“oh, god-” you groan quietly, reaching up to cover your hot face with your hands at the realisation that you just very confidently ranted about the importance of rye bread in this novel for the past five minutes, “not even one?!”

mortifying!

absolutely mortifying!!!!

well

it’s time to tell namjoon to find a new favourite bookstore because you are nevER bringing him back here agai-

“hey, it’s totally fine!” taehyung laughs lightly, stepping closer to you so that he can pry your hands away from your flushed face, “i actually think it’s really impressive how long you can go talking about bread-”

“you let me- you knew that i hadn’t read the book yet you let me continue talking about bread-?!” you gawk, taehyung now bursting into a full-blown chortle as he throws his head back, “how could you??”

“i couldn’t help it!!” taehyung wheezes, reaching up to flick a stray tear away, “i’m sorry! i’m sorry, really, i am-”

even when he’s laughing at you, your stomach can’t help but feel fluttery

“you’re lucky you’re pretty-” you snort, shaking your head gently, “otherwise i would be way more mad at you…”

taehyung’s laughs dwindle down into light chuckles and you swallow thickly when he takes a small step closer

“you’re lucky you’re pretty.” he retorts playfully, reaching over to move a strand of hair away from your eyes with his pinky finger, “otherwise i wouldn’t have let you talk my ear off about bread for five whole minutes…”

...he thinks you’re pretty?

“oh yeah?” you challenge, reaching over to jab your finger into his chest

taehyung reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist before offering you a particularly boyish smirk, “mm, yeah.”

you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second and you know it’s way too soon but you really want him to just lean down and kiss you…

“hey, do you like dessert?” taehyung pulls away suddenly before turning to make his way behind the counter

“de- dessert?” you ask dumbly, still a little dazed from... that

what was that?!

“mhm!” tae leans down slightly and flips a couple of switches underneath the counter, the chandelier light shutting off first before the other little lights begin to switch off as well, “there’s a little diner about a block away that makes really good strawberry cheesecakes.”

“i love dessert!” you nod, “and strawberry cheesecake sounds really yummy.”

“good! in that case, would you be interested in sharing a slice of cheesecake with me and perhaps delving deeper into your rye-based analysis?” taehyung teases as he grabs his coat off the back of his chair, his keys jingling in his hands

you snort lightly

“i would love to share a slice of cheesecake with you but i refuse to embarrass myself further, so we’re going to have to find something else to talk about-”

taehyung holds the door open for you and you immediately shiver as you step out, the chilly air a stark contrast from the warmth of tae’s cozy store

you jolt in surprise when taehyung reaches down and slips his fingers in between yours (which he later explains he only did because his hand was cold and definitely noT because he just really really wanted to hold your hand) before beginning to tug you along next to him

“well, we can talk about the fact that you thought the name of the book was catch her in the eye-”

“i knew you heard me! i knew it!!”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? 

or perhaps you want something shorter to read?