#me mooning over pictures of him:

[ambivartence]

Happy Doyoung Day 🖤

[agentmmayy]

re-watching season 2 of teen wolf

[airyairyaucontraire]

debating whether I seriously want a sad dad and green baby calendar enough to order it from a website based in Greece or Germany (the only places that seem to have it in stock!) and see how long that takes

[elephantbitterhead]

Good morning to the unpeopled landscape and to the pylons, who are the best & quietest British neighbors I have ever had. 

[despairforme]

     [ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LOOOOOOOOK AT HIM !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ]

[dysaniadisorder]

Okay okay I know I'm gonna sound insane but trust me, hunter as a trans he/him lesbian.

[ID: 1. A drawing of Hunter from the Owl House, with curlier hair and freckles. She's wearing a loose black t shirt, a large purple skirt, and a studded belt with a belt chain, and black boots with spikes. She's walking hunched over with her hands in her pockets, with a neutral expression and long strides. There's a scribbled, dark colored trans flag in front of her, a pattern of golden flowers behind her, and an an arrow pointing to her that says "This boy - is a very tired girl". Theres a small three panel comic off to the side where Amity is talking to Hunter, Amity says; "You wouldn't get it, Hunter. You're not a lesbian." The next panel cuts to Hunter staring at her with an intimidating smile, and the third is Hunter comedically looming over Amity and saying; "I am. - Tell me." Theres a purple doodle in the corner of Hunter in her newest outfit, she's eating a sandwich and thinking to herself; "Hmm... gender."

2. A small doodle comic of Willow and Hunter. Willow is blushing and excitedly yelling; "My girlfriend is so pretty!" Hunter, looking tired and normal replies; "Sal, I'm wearing my normal outfit." and Willow replies; "Right!?" It shows Hunter smiling and blushing to herself a bit as she looks away. Theres a note at the bottom of the page; "Salix is the scientific name for a Willow tree".

3. On the side there's a doodle comic of Hunter and Luz. They both look tired and are wearing large hoodies. Hunter walks up to them and says; "Luz, I have something to tell you." Luz half turns around and says; "Yah?" Hunter holds out her hands, showing a trans flag in one and a lesbian flag in the other. It cuts to Luz staring, mouth agape, and the text says; "*anime gasp*". The last shows Hunter holding her pride flags as Luz holds his, a trans and nonbinary flag. Luz says; "Same!" And Hunter replies; "Swag".

On the other side is a full drawing of Hunter and Luz, almost like they're posing for a picture. Hunter is smiling wide and has one hand gently out for Flapjack to perch on. Luz is also smiling wide and is giving two peace signs, one doing bunny ears behind Hunters head. Hunter has slightly longer hair, and it wearing a patched up green hoodie, a choker and bead necklace, a checkered crop tip, and a white belt with a long black skirt, speckled with stars. She also has a nose piercing and fangs. Luz is wearing Eda's grudgby varsity jacket, a pair of light overalls, pink and yellow worm on a string earrings, a tie-dye shirt that says "be fucking nice" with an upside down smiley face, and a couple bracelets with a trans ring. behind them is the same pattern of gold flower silhouettes, a doodle of the sun and the moon, and next to Luz is some swirls in the nonbinary flag, while next to Hunter are some lightning bolts in the trans flag. end ID]

Amity and Hunter: I can't believe we're both goth and trans!

Vee: I'm a communist

[jiminrings]

four seven eight (3)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: now that your month-long break’s over, you’re supposed to come home to jungkook at eight in the morning, right before he wakes up — it’s been two hours now, why are you still not home?

alternatively, jungkook will fight with you even if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + finale ]

[ fluff, full-fledged redemption arc I Swear, some angst, jealous jk, so much longing, references to anxiety, suggestive themes n flirting, everything gets sorted out, based on the moral dilemma of whether or not it’s okay to be friends with ur ex ]

notes: it’s the finale now can u believe :O thank u for staying tuned for the past two weeks — i sincerely cherish each one of u who’s ever interacted with 478 and took the time to be with me throughout the whole thing!! i’ll be taking a lil break this summer btw see u on the next fic <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

The mornings are too long for Jungkook.

They’ve been too long since your break started, dragging out endlessly that he’s just started to close the curtains to not be reminded that the sunset’s still hours away before it fades into night. Mornings were too bright; too intimate to be spent by himself. When you leave for work, you already leave before sunrise, but that’s still morning in your husband’s head.

Jungkook misses his mornings with you.

He misses the mornings where it’s still dark out and he’s been asleep enough for long that he could make out your figure in the dark, either buried to his arm or to his pillow despite the huge expanse of your bed. Mornings nowadays were only reminders for him that he didn’t overthink nor cry himself to the point of passing out from the night before.

He longs for the mornings where his alarm rings before yours and he fumbles to get up immediately, actually excited to wake up for the day. The routine starts with him kissing you on the cheek as silently as he could before replacing himself with a pillow so you could still embrace something while you’re asleep, navigating the dark without turning the lights on so you wouldn’t wake up. The next thing he does is prepare you your breakfast, and if you want to savor in all your sleep and just squeeze in a quick shower, he’s just as ready to pack your meal for you to eat on the go.

The evenings are just as hard but they’re not as long as mornings. If Jungkook spends his nights regretting, then he spends his mornings longing. Reliving his guilt is just as draining the way Jungkook feels like his stomach’s sinking to the floor, but especially during evenings, the guilt is what reminds him that he’s learning. 

Longing feels way worse.

Longing feels worse especially during mornings because unlike guilt, it’s formless. It’s fluid enough that it doesn’t make Jungkook cry point-blank nor feel the urge to smack himself in the head for being stupid. It’s listless and repetitive, sneaking into every thought he could form during sunlight. It’s worse than guilt because unlike the bile that rises to his throat, longing is the absence of it. His yearning is what reminds him of who he’s missing.

Even the cat knows who’s missing.

“Miso,” Jungkook hums to your pet that’s the only one who’s been keeping him company these days, the chunky mass of fur not exactly having a choice. 

She’s gotten warmer to him when usually her kindness would only be reserved for you. The more bitchy, devious side of her rescinding from the amount of undivided attention Jungkook gives her now. He’s been teaching her tricks — practical, useful tricks.

“If you ever see this man with mommy,” Jungkook hums, showing Miso a picture of Yoongi on his phone. He interrupts himself with a thought, smiling to why he didn’t think of the correction earlier. “Or y’know what? Even if you just see this man, I need you to scratch him, okay?”

Jungkook scratches her chin to get her to look at him, repeating his words again while humming to retain the information on her tiny brain. Mornings are more survivable this way, even if he’s spent the entirety of the past week’s mornings teaching Miso tricks. So far, she knows how to sit, roll around, and jump kick the door to close it.

Hopefully, she also learns the petty trick of hunting Yoongi in the event that she sees him.

Jungkook hums in satisfaction while he gets Miso’s toy, seeing her ears twitch in anticipation. He establishes your co-star’s name (he’s too caught up to even acknowledge him as your friend) to her so not only would she know what he looks like, but also know who is he. “Here, Miso. Practice on this. Pretend that this rat is Yoongi.”

The thought that crosses Jungkook’s mind recently these days is that he doesn’t even know what exactly to feel about Yoongi. He knows him, sure, but only in the same degree that he vaguely knows everyone his wife’s associated to somehow. He knew of him both as an actor and as your acquaintance back then, but just like with everyone else, Jungkook didn’t ask about him. He didn’t ask you all that much about him because there’s no reason to, his trust paramount enough that he didn’t even consider the possibility that Yoongi had a thing for you. 

Maybe it’s his fault, Jungkook thinks. Maybe it’s no one’s fault at all because to think of it, he can’t blame Yoongi either. 

You’re lovable. Extremely and undoubtedly lovable wherever you go, but the thing is, it isn’t your fault either. Jungkook thinks that perhaps you don’t even know just how admirable you are, the realization sinking into him sometimes that out of all people, it’s him whom you love.

Yoongi’s undeserving of his anger but Jungkook doesn’t know where else to put it, the abundance of it overflowing on himself that even if he knows how wrong it is, he pins it to your friend for the meantime.

In the same vein, Sora’s undeserving of your anger too. She isn’t responsible for any of your insecurities because in the first place, she didn’t even know about the concept of you initially. 

Even though both Sora and Yoongi are pillars of your past, the latter continues to be in your present and it’s something Jungkook has to learn to grow accustomed to. Sora’s an ex, Yoongi isn’t. He’s harmless as an almost-your-lover could come, being your best friend at the most with no malice behind his warmth. He’s not responsible either for Jungkook’s insecurities — at the end of the day, it boils down between you and your husband.

You quickly realize that your month apart with Jungkook shouldn’t only remain stagnant. He’s trying and so should you, his pride nowhere to be found nowadays that it’s slightly painful to watch. You’re not devoid of faults entirely, the need to make things right with him from your side of the plate becoming more and more apparent each day.

You’re not even one full ring in until Jungkook immediately answers, his habit of keeping his phone with him at all times paying off now that you called him first.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you hum, trying to swallow down your nervousness. You’re stalling with conversation but he doesn’t need to know that. “Are you free this weekend? It’s the last day of renovation at the shop and my parents want us there.”

“Of course I’m free,” Jungkook answers instantly, furrowing his brows in confusion. He doesn’t even know why you’re asking at this point, the both of you knowing he hasn’t denied the offer once. “I’m a househusband, y’know? Your husband. Why wouldn’t I be there?”

He’s not hurt at your doubt for him but what he feels is close enough, akin to the confusion of why you’re silent.

“Dunno,” you clear your throat, playing with the fraying ends of your throw blanket that you’ve been anxiously taking apart since you started staying in your house. “Thought you were busy.”

“I’m busy missing you if that wasn’t established enough.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you there,” your throat clears at your husband’s deadpanning, sensing that he’s not playing around at the moment with his moment. 

Jungkook sighs, letting go of the hurt that comes with your unsureness of his presence just seconds ago. He speaks more lightly this time, a chuckle leaving him. “Should I tell them you slept in? Or do I think of another excuse why we aren’t coming together in one car?”

“Just surprise me, I’ll act along with it,” you sigh in relief at the absence of hostility, rubbing your eyes in thought.

You think of how it would go — if Jungkook’s eyes would light up again once you enter the shop, or if he would kiss your cheek again to greet you in front of your parents. You wonder if he’ll hold you again this time, slinging a warm hand on your waist that’ll make you instinctively lean into him.

Jungkook wonders how he’ll approach you this time — if your eyes would widen when he kisses your cheek tenderly, or if you would notice how he breathes in your perfume that lingers in your hair. He wonders if you’ll reciprocate his affection and put a hand on his waist, enough to make a man like him soften in your hold.

Suddenly, Jungkook doesn’t mind that much anymore that the two of you would come to the shop separately, all if it would mean that he’d get to hold you again just like last time.

There’s a silence that lingers, one that’s peaceful for Jungkook yet loaded for you. You’re deflecting without even trying to, clearing your throat to get rid of the lump that comes with the urge to say what you really needed to. “Also, my parents want Miso to be there too. Do you think you can take her with you? What’s she up to?”

Your parents do miss Miso but not to the point that they’ve outright asked if you could take her with you, hoping that your impromptu plan of dragging their name along for the sake of making conversation with Jungkook doesn’t bite you in the ass later on.

“I can take her, no problem. She’s gotten close to me,” Jungkook hums, getting a loud meow right on time when she returns the toy rat to his palm and you pick up on it.

“Is that her? What’s she doing now?”

“Nothing much, I’m just teaching her how to hunt.”

“But cats already are hunters.”

“Yeah, but I’m teaching her how to hunt a specific person,” Jungkook mumbles in the same time your courage finally gets filled to the brim in your head, the go signal loudly beeping to make you cut to the chase.

“Jungkook, I need to tell you-” your focus is momentarily interrupted, his words belatedly sinking into your head. “Did you just say person?”

“Nothing. I said nothing. What were you going to say?”

Jungkook dismisses your worries even if what he said only slightly bothered you, eagerly waiting for your words. You wait for yourself even with bated breath, wanting to get this over with.

You count to three in your head, screwing your eyes shut. Now wasn’t the time to deflect; not the time for your roles with Jungkook to switch because you could feel that you were being passive while he was being proactive. If Jungkook’s trying, then you need to try too.

“I just wanted to tell you about the episode that’s dropping tomorrow,” you finally say, tugging harshly at a particular thread that it digs into your fingers. “Yoongi and I kiss.”

It’s normal. You’re no stranger to kissing scenes considering that it’s a part of your job. You’ve done it as a minor character already, even when you and Jungkook were still dating and not yet married. You tell him about your acting scenes in passing, especially some that required you to be affectionate and intimate to a certain degree.

Jungkook understands, he should understand. Acting’s your passion and your actual job, one that kept you going. He’s merely a husband at home who’s unconnected to your job and therefore should understand that sometimes, his wife needs to kiss someone else who isn’t him.

He knows he needs to understand that this time, you needed to kiss Yoongi, someone who was almost your lover; yet you don’t know of at the moment. He should grasp that his wife has a drama episode where she kisses Yoongi, one whom she’s linked to in a dating scandal.

Jungkook tries his best to understand but his comprehension doesn’t equate to ease, feeling the burn in his throat when he asks you.

“How many times?” he asks meekly, gnawing on his bottom lip and ignoring Miso for the meantime, the cat concerned because her owner simply just froze into the couch. “How many times do you need to kiss in the episode? In the whole series?”

“We haven’t wrapped up filming for the drama,” you admit, looking down on your lap in unease even if you can’t feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. “But this episode? I have uhm — Yoongi and I have four scenes.”

“And how many takes did it need?” Jungkook asks next, distancing the phone from him a little so you wouldn’t hear his heavy exhales. “It’s a drama, right? Surely there’s a hundred angles and rewinds on one kiss alone.”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking. He doesn’t know if he’s committing penance from wanting to know how many times his wife had to kiss her onscreen partner. He still asks even if he knows that whatever answer you’d give him, it would still sting. “Ten? More than ten?”

“I didn’t count, Jungkook,” you answer truthfully, rubbing your temple.

“Was it too many to count then?”

His retort comes out a little piqued, a little too sharp that it makes you sigh. Jungkook reminds himself to calm down and not think about you kissing Yoongi at all. To not think about you kissing and least of all, loving someone who isn’t him.

“Sorry. Thanks for giving me a heads-up,” he apologizes, the discomfort in his stomach slowly rising that he can’t stay seated. “Miso’s... Miso needs food now. She won’t stop meowing.”

There’s no meows at all. No urgent pawing from her that signified she wanted her food bowl to be filled.

The two of you both know that he just needs a little time; a little time to try and breathe. Jungkook urgently needs to get his mind off that he rushingly ends the call, not even waiting for a reply. “Thank you. Bye. I love you.”

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

He doesn’t know what to do, seeing you and Yoongi be intimate. He’s watched every episode of the drama so far and he could still swallow your dialogue with his character. He chuckles at the banter when you cuss him out. He smiles when the cinematography captures you the way his eyes do, through the lens of someone who loves you deeply.

He doesn’t know what he’d feel seeing you, along with a lot more people at this case, kiss Yoongi. He doesn’t know what to feel knowing that just like the vast majority of people and fans outside of your closest and most trusted family and friends, nobody knows that he’s your husband.

It’s hurtful but it’s needed, a reminder he engraves in his brain because this is what he initially thought he wanted for himself. Nowadays, he wants nothing more than everyone to know that he’s yours.

Jungkook reminds himself to breathe.

( ♡ )

All the lights are turned on. 

All the lights are turned on along with every other single discomfort Jungkook could think of that would take away the intimacy when tonight’s episode drops.

He gave Miso the loudest and most annoying toy she could ever play with, the tinkling of the bell inside the bouncy ball ringing almost every minute. He took a shower and barely dried off his hair, the ends of it still dripping wet to the cushions of the couch. Jungkook orchestrates everything to be at unease so he’d be distracted when the real unease comes, the tiny little inconveniences hopefully enough to cancel out what he’ll be seeing later.

“Can you stay on the call with me? I need you to tell me when it starts and when it ends,” Jungkook mumbles to his phone, the volume on loudspeaker so it would disrupt him too.

“You could just not watch the episode,” you sigh, offering the simplest and most effective solution to his current problem. You don’t even know why he’d willingly put himself through this, aware that the kissing scenes would do nothing to alleviate the matters of his heart and mind.

Jungkook snickers under his breath, dragging out his exhale when he explains his dilemma. He didn’t want to be selfish, unable to forego watching the episode just because he’s throwing a hissy fit over his wife’s job.

“I watch every episode to support you, though. Not everyone could say their wife’s on TV.”

Somehow, you get it. You could grasp Jungkook’s eagerness to support you by watching you do what you love most, and in the same time comprehend his aversion that doing what you love most somehow entails landing your commitment to kiss Yoongi.

You get it, you try your best to understand where Jungkook’s coming from but at this point, you’re merely a bystander to his worries. Neither are you there nor capable enough to do something about it. 

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. But I can’t — I can’t do anything about it, y’know? This is work,” you emphasize, hoping that the reminder of your job atleast helps the webbing that’s in his mind. “I can’t think of any romantic drama that doesn’t have a kissing scene in it.”

There’s the sinking feeling again in Jungkook’s stomach, one that tells him he’s asking too much from you despite barely verbalizing it at all. He feels selfish to the point that he’s even called you tonight even if he didn’t ask beforehand if it was okay, the reminder present that the two of you are on a break for a reason.

You don’t see him now but you could only imagine the conflict that manifests in his downturned lips, eyes beady and remaining shut while he tries to regain his bearings.

“Do you want me to turn on my video? So you could see me, if it helps,” you offer gently, not wanting to get ahead of yourself in the event that Jungkook can’t even stomach looking at you.

“It’ll help,” Jungkook instantly answers, shoulders slacking in relief when he sees you on his phone. He lets himself smily briefly, turning on his own video once he sees you settled in. He sets his phone (or rather you) on the coffee table, the angle turned upwards so you could see him resting into the couch.

If you notice the way that overhead lighting’s used instead of ambient lighting, despite the disuse of the latter gives him a headache, you don’t comment on it.

You don’t ask why Jungkook’s hair is sopping wet and why he’s wearing a hoodie that he hates because it made him itch and sweat. There’s no acknowledgement to why he’s wearing his old glasses instead of his new ones, because the ones he’s wearing at the moment are clunky and has an outdated prescription. 

In some odd reversal, you’ve become Jungkook during your break with him. You’re observant but you don’t act on it. You listen but you’re silent. You continue to notice everything and process it by yourself instead of doing the easier way of addressing him.

Jungkook’s become more like you — a little more talkative. He’s more obvious and readable nowadays, not one thought going unspoken. He comments continuously, babbling while the episode starts.

He giggles through the funny scenes and comments how you’d say something exactly like your character would in real life, absorbed into the show that he doesn’t even know you’re only looking at him.

You see every smile that forms in his face whenever you come into the frame, eyes twinkling when he sees that smile mirrored on the screen as if you could see him while you were filming the episode and knew he’d be watching. 

The video’s clear and although not comparable to what you’d see if you were face to face, you could see every detail and every thought that passes through your husband’s visage. You see the way his lips would purse whenever Yoongi’s character pursues you, mind going a little blank when he sees him reaching out for either your hand or your waist.

You see Jungkook through the first of it, when you hear the familiar score leading up to the first kissing scene of the episode and the entire series for that matter. He was on alert the whole time, but nothing could ever prepare him into seeing you look so deeply into Yoongi as if you’ve known him your whole life.

Nothing could prepare Jungkook into seeing Yoongi smile gently, securing his hand on your cheek when you giggle upon looking at him.

The musical score doesn’t help in the background because it’s of bells and a gentle uprising of the piano, the peak of it powerful enough that it convinces everyone watching that oh — this is probably what love looks like. You and Yoongi on the screen must be perfect enough to convince everyone who’s watching, and even Jungkook for a split second, that your love is what love should look like.

Jungkook’s unprepared when he sees you close your eyes the moment Yoongi leans into you gently, no resistance at all to the love that he gives. Yoongi’s portraying love, he must be, Jungkook thinks. Yoongi’s doing it so well that even he, your husband, is momentarily convinced that Yoongi knows how to love you the most from a kiss alone.

You see everything. You see Jungkook squirm when you press your lips harder to Yoongi’s to reciprocate his kiss, tilting your head to complement his movements so he could kiss you deeper. You see him anxiously play with his wedding band when the camera pans to your ring-less hand gently stroking Yoongi’s nape, your on-screen partner’s hand straying to the small of your back warmly.

There’s no prepared unease that could ever orient Jungkook because seeing you with Yoongi, someone who isn’t him, brings him the greatest discomfort of all. It’s heavy on his body, the trepidation crawling from the base of his skull all the way to the tips of his toes.

It eventually ends, yet it was only the first of four in the episode. The first of the many indefinite kisses he’s yet to see in the entirety of the series.

“Jungkook.”

Your voice is what snaps him out of his reverie, rapidly blinking and genuinely confused when he feels that his cheeks are warm from all the tears he’s been unconsciously shedding throughout the scene.

“Yeah?” his voice croaks, reflecting the sinking feeling that ponders on his ribs.

“I love you.”

You say it gently, the first you’ve ever uttered for almost a whole month of not doing so. You didn’t plan on it and yet it’s already escaped you, unwilling to take it back either because it’s the truth.

“I love you more,” Jungkook smiles, genuine despite being tight-lipped because if he were to smile bigger, the tears would just pour.

“Please don’t cry,” you request, albeit weakly because you can’t find the fight in your voice. It’s unavoidable for him.

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook truthfully says, playing with his wedding band before the thought crosses his mind of what he’s been meaning to say. “I need to tell you something this weekend, by the way.”

“Can’t you say it now?” you hum, growing curious.

“Not really, it’d be better if I say it to you in person.” 

Jungkook rewinds his memory of learning from Jimin that Yoongi was so close to being the love of your life, narrowly being beaten by a day. It still hasn’t sunk in completely that it makes Jungkook snicker at thought, having to shake his head to try and get rid of it. “Just thinking about it makes me want to run into oncoming traffic.”

“Is it that bad?” you chuckle, figuring the extent of it now that Jungkook’s joking about it but simultaneously looks devastated.

“For me, yeah,” he answers without a doubt, trailing when he tries to consider your side. He’s not sure, the uncertainty of your reaction almost winding him breathless. “For you… I don’t know.”

Jungkook’s trying to tell you everything and so would you, attempting to bare it all no matter the initial unease it brings. 

“I wanted to say something to you too,” you clear your throat, rethinking the night at the club that Yoongi admitted he has a crush on you.

“Is it worse than what I have to say?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at the screen with a hope you can’t distinguish.

“I can’t tell either.”

Jungkook nods but it’s apparent that neither of you could leave the conversation at that, a little antsy to know something yet not everything at this time of night.

“How about we say a keyword each?” he pipes in, the suggestion being more than welcome. “That way, we’re not entirely clueless before we see each other this weekend.”

“That could work,” you try to say nonchalantly, attempting to disguise your curiosity into relaxation yet you can’t do it anyway. “One, two, three.”

“Yoongi.”

“Yoongi.”

“That fucking guy,” Jungkook humorlessly chuckles, shaking his head once it sinks into him that Yoongi happens to be the common denominator of the things you wanted to admit to each other. It’s not lost on him that Yoongi just happens to be a variable, but the more irrational part of his brain is what makes him angry at the guy.

“We have different things to say that somehow involves Yoongi too, hm?” you ask despite knowing the answer, seeing your husband suck in a harsh inhale.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes when his face appears in his sight for a second. “Yoongi that fucking rat.”

Jungkook utters your friend’s name with such venom that it wakes Miso up, the ball of fluff previously asleep in the corner of the living room yet came to life as soon as she heard rat and Yoongi in the same sentence.

Miso suddenly speeds into the couch on high alert, tail puffed up as she runs and sits next to Jungkook, obviously in a panic and on the lookout. It happens so fast that your husband barely even registers it until you ask in a hurry.

“Why’s Miso angry?”

The realization clicks in Jungkook’s head soon enough, the moment becoming the peak of the lessons he’s taught the cat every morning for the past week. “I taught her. Watch.”

“Miso,” Jungkook drawls, scratching her chin before pointing to the screen. “Who’s that? Isn’t that Yoongi?”

Like clockwork, Miso leaps to the TV from a sprint and bounces off of it, the force enough to rock it backwards but not enough to take it out of its mount, thankfully not shattering the screen. Jungkook’s caught it in video, the back camera capturing his proud moment as a (cat)dad.

“Jungkook!” you yelp when you look at the TV, the video once again returning to his face because he realizes now that you don’t need to look at the exact aftermath of Miso’s party trick. “What did you teach our cat?”

“I taught her how to hunt,” he huffs as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “Don’t look at me like that. I have to cope somehow,” he adds, “plus you know Miso. She doesn’t really engage with things she isn’t passionate about.”

It’s true; just like the twenty toys you buy but two of them only stick. When you bought her a cat tower, the box that it came with is what she became fixated on. Even getting used to the baby blue floor couch was a struggle because at the first month of the furniture inhabiting your living room, Miso used to hiss at it simply because she hated it. She became passionate about it soon enough when she figured that the stream of sunlight is perfect for her midday naps.

“What’s that, Miso?” Jungkook gasps now that Miso’s back to him, sat on his lap as she tilts her head on you curiously at the screen. He lends her his ear and just in time does she peer at Jungkook, making it seem like they were gossiping; the sight’s too warm you can’t help but to screenshot. “You don’t like mommy kissing other guys?”

The sudden skit that unfolds catches you off-guard, warranting a surprised cackle from your lips that makes Jungkook crack up.

“That kissing scene alone can buy you five years’ worth of cat food, Miso.”

“What was that, baby?” Jungkook gasps once again, brows furrowed as he stares down Miso who’s definitely not talking. “You’d rather starve than see mommy kissing that guy again?!”

“Miso’s new trick is to talk?” you pipe in when Jungkook doesn’t let the act go, tilting your head. You playfully chuckle, raising your eyebrows at him. “Are you jealous? Is that it?” 

“Amongst other deprecating things, believe me,” he mumbles, resorting to cradling Miso in his arms like a baby. “I just admitted to teaching our cat to attack Yoongi on command. I’m not exactly hiding that I’m jealous.”

“Jungkook,” you hum with the intention of reminding him something, the switch of tone evident that it makes him alert.

“Yeah, baby?” he sighs, running his hand through his hair while he looks at you.

It’s not lost on you that Jungkook called you an endearment other than your name, and yet you try to swallow down your reaction, a tight-lipped smile replacing your previous laugh.

“You just sat through all four kissing scenes. That was the last of the episode.”

His eyes widen because he forgot that the episode was ongoing in the first place, gaze flitting to the screen as he realizes that true enough, the credits are even bound to roll soon. “Oh.”

The silence comes back and as much as you want to linger, you will yourself not to. “I’ll end the call here, alright?”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says, a grateful smile on his lips that you stayed throughout. “I love you,” he reminds. “I mean it.”

All you could give is a timid smile before you drop the call, sighing when you bury your face to the couch; your massive gray couch that is not the baby blue floor couch you have at home.

Jungkook doesn’t need to say the words but he does anyway, reminding you just how sincere he is when he says that he love you. He means it; you’ve always known. “I know you do.”

( ♡ )

The days leading to the end of the break are easier.

They’re easier in the sense that Jungkook can sleep for minutes at a time at night, granted if he had any sort of interaction with you that day. The days are easier as they pass but Jungkook doesn’t grow complacent, putting in the work whenever he could.

You’re positively confused (and a little worried) when you receive an email from Jungkook, a meeting link attached that starts at the exact moment he’s sent you it. You think for a second that he’s hacked because he barely even opens his email, but the signature of <3 jungkook at the bottom tells you that funnily enough, it is your husband.

You indulge him, even if you’re five minutes late from the time it took to fetch your laptop from your bedroom. Jungkook was starting to think you weren’t even gonna show but by the time you enter the meeting room, he’s the one who’s surprised by your sudden barrage of questions.

“You emailed me a link,” your brows furrow. “Is your phone not working? Should I buy you a new one?” you think out-loud but reel yourself in once you see Jungkook patiently waiting for his chance to speak. “I’m not opposed to talking to you virtually, Jungkook. Just… why a Zoom link?”

Jungkook never thought you’d ask, shrugging when you lead him right where he needs you to be. He says it like it’s obvious, as if you’ve been doing this everyday since you got married.

“Because we’re in a meeting,” he trails, retaining his gaze on the screen while he tries to discreetly prepare his slides in the background. “I’m presenting.”

You can’t be any more confused than you are now, having just gotten home from work at ten in the evening. You haven’t even showered yet, too puzzled with Jungkook emailing you that you couldn’t pas it up. “What? Presenting what?”

Once again, you give Jungkook the perfect opening because as soon as the last word leaves your mouth, the screen changes.

It’s a presentation with a very familiar color scheme, big bold letters right at the middle entitled “Why You Should Let Mr. Jeon Win This Time” —  the same animation for the text beyond recognizable. The subtext reads as “I’m still very sorry” — the background of the presentation being the very two things you’ve used this presentation for; the baby blue floor couch, and the third-biggest variation of a king-sized bed.

A laugh leaves you even before you could conceal it, the surprise in your face evident with the way you’re covering your face. Jungkook himself laughs at your reaction, a welcome feeling now that he gets to try giving you a presentation of his own.

“Stealing from my book now, hm?” you hum, wiping the stray tears out of your eyes. “Be honest, you love the couch. You love the bed too!”

It’s a welcome moment; a needed moment between the two of you. Not everything’s fixed but you’re getting there with small baby steps, each one clearing out the miscommunication and lapses of judgement that landed the two of you here in the first place; even if it’s one presentation at a time.

“With you in it, duh. The couch is a nightmare to clean,” Jungkook groans, resting his face on his hand as he could see you happy by your tiny icon, the presentation he’s spent the entirety of last night over taking up his whole screen. “I need you in my bed to enjoy it.”

It’s perhaps a welcome moment too; perhaps not extremely vital to the situation, but still welcome nonetheless.

“I didn’t mean-“ Jungkook’s cheeks flush, pursing his lips to think of what excuse he could say for himself. He racks his brain for a second now that the two of you are just staring at each other from his accidental innuendo, ultimately concluding that there’s nothing. “Okay, fuck it. I do mean it in that way too.”

The unabashed admission is what gets you, an easy chuckle being squeezed out of you as you try to retain your eye contact with Jungkook who’s apparently very passionate in explaining.

“Once you come home, I’m gonna,” Jungkook grunts, his two hands up as he grasps the air and squeezes. “I’m really just gonna-…”

Your laugh is what reminds him that you’re still there, looking at him directly while he makes a fool out of himself by vaguely detailing just about what he means when you come home.

“You’re gonna what, babe?” you hum playfully, the endearment slipping right out of you. You realize belatedly but neither of you comment on it, letting the term linger in the air.

Jungkook’s the one who’s caught off-guard now, at a loss for words while he resorts to rolling his eyes playfully.

“You’ll see.”

Your husband jumps from one slide to another, taking his sweet time in explaining and expounding each one. There’s no script at all, obvious from the way he stutters and laughs between words.

The moment doesn’t last forever but it’s welcome, all the while worth it because by the time Jungkook reaches the last slide, the two of you feel considerably lighter than before.

“Our break ends one week from now,” Jungkook reminds you when your laughs die down, cheeks still a little pink from catching his breath from all the talking that he had to do.

You look a little more somber now, still admirable despite the exhaustion (and relief) you’ve went through today. 

“Come home to me, okay? Come home to me before I wake up.”

“You don’t sleep, though.” It’s your turn to remind him, voice more gentle than before.

“Yes I do,” he weakly argues, but there’s no point in telling the white lie.

“Okay no, not really. But since you’ve been calling me, I could doze for thirty minutes at a time.” 

It’s the first time you’ve heard of Jungkook’s improvement in sleeping without you, unsurprised that the genuine happiness in your features already translates to your husband who preens at your reaction.

“You’ve been gone for so long, do you even remember what time I wake up?” he asks harmlessly, no malice to his tone when he brings it up.

“When I’m with you, you wake up thirty minutes before I leave,” you squint in thought, sure of your answer because it’s a routine that’s stuck for quite some time.

“And when I’m not there-” you start yet you don’t know how to finish, eyes suddenly going blank because there’s no answer that comes to mind. “I don’t know.”

You try not to dwell about your lack for an answer — the reason either being you forgetting it or you not knowing at all. Nonetheless, you try to rectify your lack for an answer by immediately asking.

“What time do you wake — no, you don’t sleep. What time do you get out of bed when I’m not there?”

“Eight,” Jungkook answers. “I get out of bed at eight in the morning when you’re not there.”

He sees you take note of it in your head, your lips mumbling the time to yourself to internalize it without having to write it down.

“I’ll sleep the night before, I promise. I’ll sleep the entire night,” he adds if it means he could lessen your load of worry that you carry with you, trying to find more ways in sharing your burdens that concern him one way or another.

You nod, inarguably feeling lighter. 

“Okay.”

( ♡ )

Your parents don’t suspect a thing.

They don’t suspect a thing between you and Jungkook despite knowing the two of you, most especially you, very well. They didn’t think twice about the two of you arriving to the shop in your own cars because just like last time, Jungkook arrives earlier than you and explains why his wife, their daughter, is late.

There isn’t anything questionable about it. You being busy is clockwork by now and Jungkook being the filial son-in-law isn’t anything new.

What is new to them is Jungkook being a little more talkative.

It’s not as if he’s never talked to them when you aren’t by his side, but something was just different to the way he carries himself now. His shoulders are still relaxed but his hands don’t tuck themselves into his pockets, his fingers instead pointing around to ask them about something.

Jungkook seems more present in a way that you almost miss it. Your parents can’t pinpoint what it is exactly but if Jungkook was warm before, then he’s become even warmer now.

He talks more; more attentive as he notices your mother’s new earrings. He’s always figured that she has a penchant for changing up her jewelry but it’s only now that he comments on it, complimenting the dangling charms on her ears that makes her blush.

He laughs more, your father figures. Jungkook outsizes him in height but when he laughs, his shoulders hunch and his face scrunches brightly that they’re almost the same height. He jokes more with your dad nowadays, their banter and shoulder jabs more apparent that it would seem like he’s his actual child.

They just can’t put a finger on it because as much as Jungkook’s always been kind and warm, there’s something about him now that makes him shine a little brighter.

“Hi, baby,” Jungkook greets you the moment you enter the shop, wasting no time in slinging an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. He moves like he’s never seen you before, in fact meeting you by the door before you could even take two steps in and go about what he’s been yearning to do since last week.

“There you are,” he hums, smiling so hard that his eyes crescent when you roll your eyes before returning the kiss to his cheek. He lets his arm wrap around your shoulders, taking you closer to him. “You just really had the urge to deep-clean your couch at four in the morning, huh?”

The half-scoff that leaves your lips is more playful than it is offended, shaking your head when you play along. “Mhmm. Our couch, of course. I love that couch,” you exclaim, finally taking your eyes off him to acknowledge your parents who are watching your interaction unfold. “Takes you longer to clean and exhausts you more when your husband doesn’t help clean it.”

“Oh so now we’re just straight-up lying,” he hums, laughing before letting you go so you could hug your parents.

Your mom and dad can finally put a finger on it now — Jungkook’s just in love. He’s even more in love with you than the last time, the realization fitting just perfectly to the twinkle behind your husband’s eyes.

The shop hasn’t felt this warm to you until now.

Somehow, it’s even warmer than the times you’ve spent your childhood birthdays in here, perched on the counter with a different cake each time. Today’s warmer than that time before when you were excited to take your portraits to commemorate your coming-of-age, eager to brag to your family and friends. It’s warmer than when you came into the shop to announce you received your very first callback in your career; unable to wait for it to close that you ended up yelling the news the moment you came in, and despite not knowing anything besides that you were the daughter of the owners of the shop, everyone else cheered with you.

Now is warmer than the past. Now is warmer with Jungkook. 

It helps that your hearts are somehow lighter now because the last time the both of you were at the shop, it was merely the 15th day of your break — and here you are, undoubtedly blithe and easier together on the 28th day.

It’s a foundation that grows solid day by day, the space you’ve established giving more leeway for the two of you to grow and occupy it altogether once more when all faults are recognized.

You and Jungkook work through the motions of completing the renovation, teaming yourselves up with only small talk about the task at hand. The urge to talk to you quite literally shows in the way Jungkook’s eager to finish earlier, his keenness making you smile while you take your time.

It’s only after sunset when everything’s finished; when the second coats of paint are all fully-dried and the shelves are built, when all the furniture’s arranged and Jungkook’s successfully picked up every time-consuming task in the shop to wrap it up earlier.

Jungkook’s body physically burns from the labor but he’s not weary just yet, tugging you to the empty breakroom to catch his breath and finally talk.

“Can I go first?” you ask when Jungkook finally looks like he could blink without seeing darkness at the corners of his eyes, making him drink from your own cup.

Your husband nods eagerly, sitting himself closer to you on the floor because the two of you were too afraid to sit on the new sofa in fear of dirtying it.

It’s quiet like this; with the doors closed and no TV present to provide white noise, no Miso either who’d fill up the space with her presence. This moment alone with Jungkook is what reminds you that it’s been far too long since the two of you have gotten this intimate; this close to each other and this willing to talk.

The two of you are together now simply because you are; no longer in the context of you coming home late at night because of work, too tired to initiate conversation.

“When Yoongi and I were in the club, he admitted that he had a crush on me,” you start as gently as you could, thankful that you’re sitting beside Jungkook and not opposite of him so you wouldn’t feel obligated to look at him. “Had a crush on me back then when we were young, and he has a crush on me now.”

You don’t look at Jungkook because you don’t want to see him upset, but it’s only inevitable that you look at his hurt for you to understand his side completely. It’s not exactly an everyday occurrence to know that your wife’s co-worker, one whom she has to see practically everyday for months, has a crush on her.

“But I told him I was married and he understands, he’s not getting between us or anything like that,” you’re quick to amend, but not in the tone that you’re making it seem you’re on Yoongi’s side. “He told me just a few days ago that the crush he has now is nothing serious, by the way. It’s just the admiration from afar thing.”

Jungkook’s still silent but maybe it’s only like that in your head because you’re still gathering the courage to look at him, only doing so when he squeezes your knee.

“I just wanted to tell you that. It’d be wrong for me not to,” you say truthfully, unable to digest the guilt if you do otherwise. “I’m sorry. I never really got to apologize to you about the Yoongi thing.”

You’re not devoid of faults — you never are and never will be. 

“I know this whole dating scandal is hard on you too. Especially Jimin’s plan of not doing anything about it at all,” you chuckle, trying to grasp what you’d feel like if it’s Jungkook who was the celebrity and not you.

The scandals weren’t dying down, in fact they were only getting bigger in number given the new episodes, all of where Yoongi and you kissed and were significantly more affectionate. The two of you haven’t met outside since the article was released, meaning that anything from that point forward is purely made-up.

Jungkook won’t deny that he searches your name and Yoongi’s these days, scrolling through countless of comments. He doesn’t exactly know why he’s doing it either but after every scroll that just unknowingly adds to his own insecurity, Jungkook figures that his trust in you never faltered.

“It’s okay. I’m not upset over it,” your husband admits, having had the time to reevaluate all his initial anger over Yoongi when he saw the two of you at the club. “If I knew from someone else that you met up with your ex, I think I’d get a drink with an old friend too.” 

He puts things into perspective and the way he does it relieve you of all your residual guilt, realizing now that although not the best option, your response was only rational; a little confusing and a little flawed, sure, but never malicious.

“I don’t have an ex.” 

You smile in reminder that it makes Jungkook do the same, his intake of breath turning a little sharper when he realizes that you’re done with your side.

“It’s my turn to tell you then.”

This time it’s you who eagerly nods, oddly seeing yourself in Jungkook’s actions when he looks down the floor instead of you, a little nervous in saying the truth.

“Yoongi was supposed to ask you out back then.”

Jungkook says it as casually as he could, to not make it seem as serious as it actually was. He doesn’t know if he executed the bit perfectly but it warrants a reaction from you anyway, eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“What? I didn’t know that.”

“I know. Jimin slipped about it,” Jungkook continues. “He brought it up casually because he told me that Yoongi told him, then he thought I knew about it because he assumed the two of us were friends.”

“When did you and Jimin even talk?” your eyes narrow in confusion. The last time you checked, Jimin was close to you (and Jungkook by extension) enough to attend your wedding, but not close enough for him and Jungkook to sustain a conversation by themselves.

“How were your meals?” Jungkook grins, dimples in full display while he watches the gears in your head turn. “Did they taste good? I hope they were still hot when you got them.”

“My meals? What — no,” you gasp when you realize, knowing that your suspicion over catering cooking your every favorite meal was too good to be true. “You were the one who made them?”

“Mhmm,” Jungkook proudly hums, feeling a burst of your pride when you lean your head on his shoulder giddily. “Then I got Jimin to deliver them to you personally so you wouldn’t question catering.”

“Cute,” you mumble, looking up at him from your spot on his shoulder. “Back to the Yoongi part?”

“Right, the Yoongi part,” Jungkook sighs, putting his arm around your shoulder while you held his hand. “Based from what you just said, maybe Yoongi didn’t just have a crush on you, y’know? He loved you enough that he planned to ask you out.”

“And get this,” Jungkook adds, a solemn look to his face when he almost whispers it to you as if it’s a secret. “I only beat him to it a day earlier.”

He watches you process it all, waiting for it to click in before he continues so he’d know you were on the same pace with him.

“I asked you on the 1st, right? Do you still remember the date, hm? I bet you don’t,” Jungkook teases, a welcome moment of playfulness from the nature of your conversation.

“Don’t test me,” you huff, crossing your arms in retort. “You asked me out on the first day of October,” you enunciate, not having to think about it twice. “In case you don’t remember, dummy, October 1st is also our wedding date.”

“Wow. My girl knows so much, hm?” Jungkook laughs heartily, throwing his head back when he resumes his hold on you while the two of you lean against the wall. “I asked you out on October 1, then that means Yoongi would’ve asked you out on October 2.”

It’s fate; narrow fate that would’ve been changed completely if only it wasn’t kind enough to favor Jungkook.

“I narrowly beat him by a day. It was almost not me,” he plays with his wedding band. “If I was just a day late, I don’t know if I’d even be here.”

“Yoongi was almost your first boyfriend, your first love,” he exhales heavily at the thought, smiling although it doesn’t exactly look the happiest. “Your first everything.”

It’s a thought that sinks into him every second the moment he’s learned of it, the alternate of what could’ve happened haunting him by the minute. Jungkook doesn’t even know if lucky was the right term to call it. Luck seemed too shallow to be in charge of a blessing as big as you. “I’m glad fate was on my side when it led me to you.”

“It’s hard to digest everything, I know,” Jungkook admits, because even he found it difficult trying to take everything at once. “I don’t know if I could wrap my head around it now, but I want to ask,” he swallows the lump in his throat, looking straight through you that you can’t find yourself avoiding his gaze. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“If I got the whole timing wrong and Yoongi asked you out first, would you have accepted?” your husband asks. “Would you have married him?” Jungkook asks one question after the other, the gravity of it still plaguing him even if he’s said it out-loud. “If it was him and not me, would you still be happy?”

It’s a question that rattles you to your core, all the way down to your bones that your fingers tingle and it’s your ring finger that feels like twitching. It’s a loaded question that only crossed Jungkook’s mind a hundred times before he sleeps, and it a question that’s only crossed your mind now.

“I wouldn’t know, Jungkook,” you whisper, a little winded. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook nods, swallowing the hurt.

He can’t blame you — he wouldn’t blame you. He’s not the only one hurting in this equation and it would be unfair of him to require you to give him an answer now; now when it’s apparent that you’re beyond shaken and your mind feels like it’s about to split open.

“Now stand up. Ring me up as the first and last customer of the day before I go home,” Jungkook urges you to stand up, leading you by your hand to place you behind the counter, and him to stand at the other side of it.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, barely coherent because one second, your husband’s asking you if it would still be him if Yoongi had only asked you out earlier, and now, he wants you to play cashier with him.

“I have an order, baby. Just stand behind the counter and let me pay.”

Jungkook explains gently, fetching his bag with him and pulls out a whole lunchbox filled with undeveloped film canisters, the same container where he’d put in all your snacks before you left for work.

You’re speechless as you look at the collection, neatly placed together but you know that there’s hundreds of pictures and memories in that single lunchbox alone, the fact that this is all coming from your husband making your mind blank.

“All of these, please. I’ve been collecting for awhile,” he says casually, pulling out his wallet.

“Jungkook,” you call, opening the lunchbox to see the canisters for yourself if they were real and not merely props. “Since when did this start?”

Your husband doesn’t answer, instead giving you the exact amount and peering over the counter because you’re still dazed, using your fingers to punch his order in. “You’ll know. I never turned off the timestamp.”

“Bye. I love you. Text me when you get to your house,” Jungkook bids you goodbye and it’s only then that you snap out momentarily, eyes beady from trying to process the last minutes alone. He leans in just a little, all to be able to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You stare when he exits the shop, watching him drive away until you could no longer see his car from the distance.

There’s no time you waste when all of the systems in your head tell you to develop your husband’s films now, not passing up a single second because it’s more of an instinct than an urge. You get to work immediately, having to fend off your parents that you’ll handle this alone and they could come home while you close off everything once you’re done. 

You get to the darkroom and do everything as quickly and as precisely as you could, seeing vague figures by the moment you hang each print to dry. It takes you the rest of the night until the early hours of morning to go through everything, greatly too impatient that you physically had to step out of the room while waiting.

It’s only when your timer goes off that you allow yourself to be in the same space with the pictures that your husband took through the years, eyes skimming over each one to look at the timestamp.

The very first picture, the very first one you processed that’s hung in the frontmost line in the darkroom dates back to October 1, five years ago — the very same day he asked you out.

The realization hits you deeply because the moment you step back, you see that every image, every composition in this darkroom of all the film pictures Jungkook has taken for the past five years, is you.

It’s pictures taken of you candidly, when you’re in mid-conversation and when your eyes are turned away from the camera. It’s images of you that are taken from afar, your silhouette turned to Jungkook and facing whatever’s in front of you instead, almost never making eye contact at all. There’s several where there’s mirrors involved and while Jungkook meant to capture your smile, he unintentionally captured his too while looking at you.

There’s pictures taken of you in your important milestones; in your wedding dress while Jungkook hung around in the back to see you getting prepared for the reception, and in bed when you’re wearing his shirt, reading the script for In Terms of Eternity’s pilot episode.

There’s mementos taken of you all over the place; ones where you’re in the driver’s seat and ones where you’re on your phone. There’s pictures of you fixing yourself in the mirror and pictures of you as you sleep, your head tucked to his neck and where half of Jungkook’s face is visible. Pictures of your hands with your wedding band worn and even pictures of you laughing, the shots itself being blurry because Jungkook laughs while you do.

Each one, all of them you.

It’s a definitive answer that you can say to Jungkook now, the question to whether or not it would still be him if Yoongi got the better slice of timing. You don’t know any other love like Jungkook’s and you’re content with it — you’re at peace knowing that Jungkook’s your first love, your first kiss, your first everything.

The answer’s clearer than ever when you see each picture that proved to you Jungkook’s love had never wavered nor faltered, no matter the distance nor the blurriness in his pictures.

It has always been, and always will be Jungkook. 

( ♡ )

You can’t move. 

Your body feels far too strained and exhausted to move, even attempting to raise your head makes you want to faint. It’s barely going well and you want to try so hard to leave your house and come home to Jungkook, but things simply were not on your side.

You already should’ve left at six in the morning and that was when you gathered your remaining strength that was left from your fever that developed drastically overnight. It was just the occasional headache and the nausea a few days ago, but figuring that you thought little of it and proceeded to work with filming until the late of the night, your sickness has gotten worse unsurprisingly.

You’re more than prepared, even packing back all your stuff into the luggage you came with and setting an alarm for you to drive home early. All you had to do was wake up and drive — and now that you’re barely coping with the first, your car won’t start. 

It won’t start no matter how much you try to remedy it by popping open your hood, unable to gauge what’s wrong because your fever’s getting the best of you and you could barely function. It was six in the morning when you trekked back to your bed and decided to take just a brief nap in hopes you’d get better.

But it’s already been four hours — it’s ten in the morning.

It’s two hours past eight and Jungkook’s been waiting for you for two hours, unable to hold it all in when it turned seven in the morning and you still weren’t there.

Jungkook’s hurt and cries his heart out because he’s slept for this, hoped for this. He didn’t know how to react when he opens his eyes at eight in the morning to not see you beside him. Jungkook’s hurt, beyond hurt to the point of speaking but he stands up immediately with a newfound drive.

He won’t settle for this. He’ll fight you on this.

Jungkook takes his key to your house and wastes no time in jamming it into your front door, vision blurry still because he drove all the way here while barely coherent. He marches up the stairs, failing to see your luggage that’s already near the front door, all that’s left for you to do was to load it in your trunk and go home to him.

Your husband storms to your room and throws the door open, voice cracking to see you still underneath the comforter.

“Get up.”

He sees you rumbling from underneath it but you don’t talk, only making him more distraught that he comes closer to the foot of your bed.

“Get up from bed right now because we’re going to fight.”

He’s no longer your husband who didn’t want to fight you on things for the sake of self-preservation. He’s no longer the one who avoided confrontation in fear of setting you apart from him because this is what he gets from being so passive — from being so unwilling to fight you.

“We’re going to fight right now because I don’t want you to break up with me,” he grits through tears, shaking your foot at the end of the bed. “I don’t want to let you go.”

Your movements from underneath the comforter are more apparent but you still don’t get up, springing Jungkook into walking to your side of the bed where your head laid.

“Get up, Y/N. I’m not kidding,” Jungkook tears up, only to shake you awake by your shoulder but he feels the abnormal warmth of it before he could even speak, the realization settling in.

“Can we fight tomorrow?” you ask in a small voice, turning over to look at Jungkook who’s been crying. “My head feels like it’s splitting open.”

“You’re sick,” Jungkook exclaims, half in worry yet half in relief because it’s the only reason to why you didn’t come home to him before hoke up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He was worried, beyond out of his mind that the first thing he does now is get underneath the covers with you, embracing you tightly. You feel it too, feeling apologetic that you were late but what’s important now is that Jungkook’s here with you, fully aware that you have no intention of leaving him.

“I was gonna come back home, trust me. My bags were all prepared,” you mumble to his neck, your husband immediately cradling your face to it as he hushes you to not strain your voice and explain. “I really was! But then my car wouldn’t start, and when I woke up this morning, I was sick.”

“I know. I know now. It’s okay, baby. I understand,” Jungkook says gently, rocking you back and forth and only thinking of now, choosing to plan later on how he’ll nurse you back to health and eventually take you home to where you belong.

“Were you serious awhile ago?” you ask while your face is still buried to his chest, your husband unwilling to ease up because he’s missed you beyond words. “Would you really have fought with me if I didn’t come back?”

“Of course. I won’t let you break up with me until I lose my fight with you,” Jungkook answers without skipping a beat. “I’m not letting you break up with me until I know I’ve exhausted every possible way for you not to.”

“I never plan on breaking up with you,” you snort, the sudden reply making you wince because your head ached from it. You get the teasing, lightest ever possible forehead flick you could ever receive in your life, your husband hushing you to just stop talking.

“Jungkook?” you hum, making him open his eyes because they were closed from how at peace he is just by being with you. “I have an answer.”

“Answer to what?” your husband’s brows furrow, a slight pout on his lips because he can’t decipher what you’re pertaining to.

“When you basically asked me if it would still be you if you got the timing wrong and everything,” you trail, the realization finally crossing him.

You think back on all the pictures Jungkook’s taken of you, several of the many manifestations of his love for you. He hums, raising an eyebrow with a curious smile on his lips. 

The words didn’t need to be said at this point because it’s an unspoken truth anyway, but with all your heart and experience of loving Jungkook, sometimes, saying the obvious wouldn’t hurt.

“The answer’s you,” you smile, warm hand finding his to flick at his wedding band. “It’s always you.”

.

.

.

.

.

EPILOGUE

In Terms of Eternity turned out to be a massive success that just two years later, it’s been announced to have a sequel.

Everyone’s happy with it, you yourself in a great shock over it too because you got bigger than you could ever imagine — and in the peak of it, you get to wear your wedding band to work.

The entirety of the people responsible for the drama’s in your home, one that’s a house outside of the city and not an apartment in the heart of it. It’s rightfully massive, just enough to fit everyone who’s ever contributed to the success of it.

The house was built from the ground up instead of bought, each single centimeter of space being carefully planned by you and Jungkook together. It’s new, but it’s a beautiful, exciting kind of new — one that didn’t need everything to be replaced and instead housed some of the old; just like the baby blue floor couch and the third-biggest variation of the king-sized bed that are your clear favorites.

Countless presentations have been made of letting the other win, all varying from Jungkook’s requests of having a game room and a den to your plea of commissioning to have an obscenely large painting of your choice to put in the house.

It’s a matter of yielding and loving, all of it that made this space the home of your dreams with your husband.

“Scotch for you,” Yoongi greets from nowhere as he squeezes in himself between you and Jungkook, giving the drink to your husband who surprisingly, clicked with him and is now his best friend.

He’s just about to say his next words when he sees Miso from the corner of the living room, coming to hide slightly behind Jungkook even if the cat makes no move. “God, she scares me. Did either of you ever know why she’s tried killing me multiple times already?”

“Nope. Not a single clue,” Jungkook laughs, shaking his head while he pokes a tongue to his cheek.

Yoongi lets it go, grinning as he holds your drink up. “And gin for you.”

Your mouth dries before you could even push the drink away from you, your husband already stepping in.

“Mhmm, no. No gin for my wife,” he hums, taking the glass instead to pour it into his throat all in one go. 

“But you love gin!” Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion, offering you his glass of gin instead that he hasn’t sipped out of.

“I do, but I really can’t, Yoongi,” you smile, biting your lip tentatively when you raise your eyebrows at him.

You wait for a beat for your best friend to comprehend but he still doesn’t, reminding you that he could be a bit slow sometimes.

Jungkook can’t take it either that he just laughs, taking you closer to him by the waist and puts you in front of him, announcing the news in a low voice with a warm hand on your stomach.

“We’re expecting.”

[rainbeom]

LITTLE THINGS WITH THEM THAT MAKE SENSE <3

pairing : txt x reader

genre : fluff

wc : 550 !!

warnings : mentions of food, and there's kissing :0

song rec : magic - txt ; 5 star : cl

a/n : aa i've been wanting to post this for so long <3 also do lmk if u want an enhypen ver. of this !! it's been a while since i've written so please lmk how this is !! and @mosviqu thank u proofreading this, love <3

yeonjun : grocery shopping past midnight bc you both crave mint choco icecream. gently closing your eyes when he asks you to stay still while he applies mascara on your eyelashes, smiling at you with adoration when you bat your lashes at him. entwining pinkies to keep promises you both made to each other. asking if he could kiss you, just to see the blush adorn your cheeks when you say yes. little kisses on your shoulder just so you know that he appreciates you sm.

(other members below the cut <3)

soobin : stargazing while resting your head on his chest, as he tells you about the different constellations in the night sky. picks up things on the higher shelves so that you don't have to be on your tiptoes. tries to weave in flowers into your braid like the aesthetic pictures you see on pinterest, but he fails miserably and you two collapse, giggling uncontrollably. getting drunk on soju to admire his ears that have now turned red, along with the slurred love confessions. a kiss pressed to your temple, with a declaration of his love for you.

beomgyu : songs that remind him of you, and the way you make him feel, stashed in one playlist, for you to listen when he's away. painting your nails with the utmost concentration and care, while you simply marvel at the sight of this beautiful boy in front of you. handing you hair ties when the wind outside makes both, his and your hair blow while you two sit in the car, enjoying each other's presence. carries you to your bed when you fall asleep while waiting up for him, as he gently pecks your cheeks, promising to be there when you woke up.

taehyun : little post its decorating your side of the bed, your work table and the fridge, leaving messages like 'hi baby, thank you for everything' or 'my love, call me once you're free <3'. adds you to his spotify blend just to see if or not your music tastes are similar; will jump over the moon if y'all are over 80% similar. thread in tiny, pretty beads to make matching bracelets for you, and will smile so proudly when you show it off to your friends. will get all sentimental before a scary roller coaster in the amusement park, expressing how you mean everything to him and you laugh over his cuteness, before he quickly smooches your hands as the ride whizzes off.

hueningkai : lies to you about when he's coming home just so that he can see the surprise and delight in your eyes when he comes home earlier than he told you. eating the cookie batter together rather than baking it; sprinkling flour on each other during the process. splashing water on you whenever you run a bath for him, turning the calm bath session into a water fight. indulges you into the eyes staring contest, will gaze into those eyes of yours that hold so much love for him, even if both your eyes start watering and he eventually wipes off your tears and kisses your eyelids.

© rainbeom, via imkyunies, 2022, all rights reserved.

[sdr2lovemail]

I need sundrop and moondrop pining. Can I get them pining over a worker at the mega pizza plex

This one was inspired by a dream I had.

I hc that Sun is a great artist but would draw at the same level as the kids to make them feel better. Also Sun and Moon hang out with DJMM because I said so.

I hope you enjoy!

There is now a second part to this!

Daycare attendants aren't programmed to handle a crush!

Letting out a yawn, you use your security badge to enter the employee lounge. Usually on the first shift no one else was in the room. All you needed to do was leave your bag and begin your sweep of the Pizza Plex. You tuck your security badge into your pocket as you walk to your locker. You look up to input your code before pausing.

The door to your locker looks like it was ripped open and then sealed closed with pink, glitter tape. The keypad’s screen was shattered and flickering. If you looked close enough, you could see claw marks in the metal of the locker. You look around and see that no one else's lockers suffered any damage.

Peeling back the tape, the door almost falls off its hinges. All of your belongings were still intact. Nothing was stolen or broken. Infact, there was something new there. On the bottom shelf was a stack of papers tied together with ribbon.

Untying the pages reveals multiple drawings of yourself. Some were obviously done by children, even signed with their names. But a majority were a nicer quality with no signature. On some of the nicer drawings, there was a small difference in style. Some had a harsher, darker stroke. While others have more of a lighter feel to them.

The Freddy themed wall clock chimed, indicating the start of your shift. You set the papers into your bag. You hope no one actually tries to break into your locker before you could get a new one. The only security for it now was some tape.

You begin your morning by checking in on the animatronics. Giving your good morning greetings, seeing if they were good to go for the day. You asked the main four if they knew anything about the drawings in your locker. None of them knew what you meant, giving you confused looks. Seems you would have to ask elsewhere.

Leaving Rockstar Gallery, your next stop was to see DJ Music Man. The big arachnid was able to set up on his own, but it never hurt to check up on him.

“Hey DJ! How are you this morning?” You walk over and begin to check over his booth. Making sure everything was in the right place and turned on.

He pauses his set up to give you a wave and a finger gun in your direction. DJMM begins to look over his tracks while listening to you talk.

“-and so I opened my locker and there were a ton of pictures of me. You know anything about that DJ?”

He freezes up and looks down at you. Shifting his eyes to the left and right, he turns one of his beats on, ignoring your question.

“You do know! Who was it? C’mon, tell me.” You pressure. You needed to know who left those papers in your locker.

DJMM is quick to shake his head, to the best of his ability, and retreat into his tunnels. He was hiding something from you. You’d find out what sooner or later.

The final stop of your check was the daycare. You first stop by the gift shop and the attached waiting area. Checking over the monitors, it feels like someone was watching you. Turning towards the daycare play area, a blur of yellow slips just out of your vision. The blur is followed by a loud crash and then a mechanical shriek.

You speed over to the big wooden doors and enter the play area. Sun is frantically trying to piece together a block castle.

“Oh no! Oh no! Where was the bridge?! Where was the flag?! Such a mess! Must fix it!” The daycare attendant is quick to rebuild the castle. Seeing everything back in its place, he begins to calm down. He swerves to the left but is startled by the sight of you. Weren’t you just in the gift shop?

“Good morning Sun. I heard a crash and wanted to come chec-!” You were interrupted as Sun practically leaped into your arms. They began to nuzzle the cheek of their faceplate into your own.

“Friend!! You’re back!! I had to wait a full 14 hours, 37 minutes, and 15 seconds to see you again!! It’s been so, so long!!” You weren’t used to having so much attention at one time. You attempt to continue your duties with Sun clinging to you.

“I missed you too, Sun. That crash made me worried so I came down to check on you.” Your words made his cooling system go into overdrive. A low hum could be heard from his mechanics.

“You were worried!! About me!! Oh, you’re just as thoughtful as always!! Did you have a nice drive here? Did you look inside your locker?”

“...Did you leave those papers in my locker?” Oh no! He ruined the surprise!

“What?! No no no nonono! Moon left them. I can’t go into the employee lounge.. it’s against the rules! You know Moon, always the rule breaker! Why do you ask? Did you like them?”

From inside their shared thoughts, Moon was fuming! This wasn’t the plan at all. Sun was making them out to be some bad guy!

“Yes I did, I thought the drawings were very nice. I’m not sure if Moon can hear me right now, but if he can’t, tell him I appreciated it.” You push against Sun’s torso, causing them to release their hold on you. “Though, I would love it if he didn’t destroy my locker. Well, I need to check the rest of the Pizza Plex before we open.”

You were leaving already?! Their plan was going down the drain!

“You can’t go, Sunshine! Why not play a game? We could play house, or hide and go seek, or tag!” They curl their arms around your own.

“As much as I would love to, I have to get back to work. My bills won’t pay themselves. If it makes you feel better, I can try to come by during my lunch break.”

“We could have lunch together, friend!! I could put the kids to sleep early and I can be with you while you eat!! Like a date! It’s a date!” They release your arm to cup their heated faceplate.

You weren’t thinking of it as much of a date. Your ideal date location wouldn’t be a daycare. But Sun seemed really happy about this. “Uh…Sure! It’s a date, Sun. I’ll see you at 12.” With that, you quickly make your way into the hall.

Sun was fidgeting with excitement. Even with their plan failing he scored him and Moon a date!

‘You idiot! Why would you make me the villain! It was your idea to put the papers in their locker.’

“Oh relax, Moon! That can be water under the bridge now! We got a date to go on!” Hooking himself to the cable in the sky, Sun goes up to his room to make preparations for your visit.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

When Barry is twenty-two, he picks up a heart-shaped locket in a thrift store and decides to buy it for his mom. The only issue is that he can't see the get the damn thing open. He tries, quite literally, everything he can think of. He tries messing with the catch, tries soaking it in hot water to get it easier to open, tries getting a pair of tweezers between the front and back, but it won't budge. For all intents and purposes, the locket is stuck shut and will remain so.

Barry... doesn't give it to his mom. It would feel kind of disingenuous if he can't even put a picture inside it. But he doesn't take it back either. He meant to, for sure, but instead, it sits in the second cup holder of his car for years until he finally has someone riding with him and they try to put their cup down. Then, it stays in his pocket.

Barry is fifty-two and the locket is now a keepsake, a good luck charm, a fidget toy, whatever he needs. He wears it around his neck unless he's in the lab, then he puts it in his pocket. Years ago, when his mom had died, he had held onto it until he couldn't feel his hands anymore and it had left a heart-shaped imprint on his skin. It means something now, even if he can't open it.

He doesn't want to open it anymore. At least, he didn't think he did.

Barry is fifty-two and a half when he's sitting on the steps leading up to the lab, head in his hands. His car had broken down on the way over here and he really didn't have the means to fix it anymore, which meant he was either going to have to ride the bus (a bad idea, seeing as the nearest bus stop was two and a half miles away and Barry's body already had aches and pains) or find someone to carpool with.

Barry is fifty-two and a half when someone comes to sit next to him on the steps.

"Hey," she says. Barry looks up and is confronted with perhaps the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life. "I like your locket."

"Oh, uhm, this?" Barry holds the locket up by the chain. He had been messing with it because that's what he does when he's nervous now. "Thanks, but it's not much."

"Where'd you get it?" she asks. The locket glints a little in the morning light.

"A thrift store that, heh, that they tore down years ago. Sorry to disappoint."

"It's cool," she says. "Does it have a picture inside of it?"

"Maybe?" Barry says, scratching the back of his head. "I don't really know, I've never been able to open it."

"Want me to take a stab at it?" she asks. Barry would usually say no here. After the first dozen people had asked him that, he started to get a little worn out of the question. Really, he has no reason to trust that this woman would be any different. Or that she wouldn't just run off with it. But...

"Sure," he says, handing it to her.

Barry is fifty-two and a half when the woman takes the locket from him and rubs her thumb over the top of it gently. There's a very, very small click! and she pops it open.

"How- how in the world did you do that?" Barry asks, amazed. The woman presses her thumb to the picture inside, smiling affectionately. When she passes it back over to him, she says,

"It used to belong to my husband."

The picture inside is definitely her, at least on one side of the locket. On the other side, there's room for a second photo. It's in black and white, but the faces that look up at him are very familiar. The woman, on the left, with her hair pinned back. She has her arm around a man and they're both smiling like there was no one in the world they could love more than each other.

But Barry's hands are shaking. Because the man next to the woman isn't just anybody.

It's him.

"I think we have a lot of catching up to do," the woman says.

"Who are you?" Barry breathes, clutching the locket to his chest.

"Lup," she says with a smile that sends Barry's heart over the moon, even if his head has no idea what's happening. She offers her hand and Barry takes it, breathless. "I was beginning to think I missed you this time around, babe."

[watchmegetobsessed]

NAN'S FAVORITE BOY

A/N: this absolute fluffiness was inspired by @harrysblackcoat 's little photo concept, i couldn't just not write it!!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: Your nan loves Harry. Maybe even more than she loves anyone in the family.

MORE FROM THE NAN&HARRY UNIVERSE

This meeting is going on forever. You’ve been sitting in the conference room for almost two hours and the finance department is still going on and on about numbers you’ll forget as soon as you stand from your seat. You’ve already went over your grocery list in mind, noted to change the sheets when you get home and decided to book yourself an appointment with your nail lady for next week, but the meeting still hasn’t ended.

Pinching the bridge of your nose you drop your pen and give up on writing anything important down, Chase will send everything around in a lengthy email anyway, he always does. You’re thinking of a way to excuse yourself to end your misery when your phone’s screen lights up.

Snatching it off from next to your empty coffee cup you finished the first five minutes into the meeting, your lips curl upwards seeing that Harry just texted you. Forgetting about the presenter up in the front you open the message right away.

You almost gasp out loud when a photo loads along with a text. Harry is posing next to your nan, he is dressed in his yellow pleasing hoodie, his current favorite, along with his old ripped, light-washed skinny jeans and he has an arm curled around your adorable grandma’s shoulders. Both of them smiling brightly, the picture is oozing love and happiness and it breaks the greyness of your workday, seeing two of your favorite people being so cozy together.

HARRY: Nan and her favorite boy reunited!!

It’s true. Nan is obsessed with Harry, treats him like his own grandchild, maybe even better than you, who is actually her grandchild. It’s been an ongoing joke in the family ever since they were introduced and just thirty minutes later Nan was already teaching Harry to crochet so he can make his own little hats. It was an unexpected but so wholesome connection that hasn’t been broken in the four years the two of you have been together.

Y/N: Cuties! surprise visit or was it scheduled?

Harry’s reply comes right away.

HARRY: My zoom meeting got cancelled so I decided to drop by.

Y/N: I bet she was over the moon to see her favorite grandson!

You can almost see it, Harry ringing the bell, Nan opening the door and finding him there, clapping her hands together happily before hugging him. It’s a shame you couldn’t be there with them. They are such an iconic duo and you’d never admit to your family, but you’re kind of proud Nan loves your partner the most. You remember when your older sister first brought her now husband over to her, she commented on the color of his pants and then ignored him for the rest of the evening. Since then they have grown to like each other, but it’s funny in contrast with how things were with Harry.

HARRY: She made me eat like a ton of iced buns while she told me about the latest tea in the bingo club. Did you know Theresa invited George over for biscuits the other day???

You almost laugh out loud at his message, you can hear him say it in such a dramatic way, as if it was the gossip of the year. You just know he listened to everything Nan had to say and had the best time together.

HARRY: When are you leaving work? Want to meet here?

Y/N: I’m running out of the conference room in about ten minutes if they don’t finish talking. Wait for me there and we can go grocery shopping together after.

HARRY: Nan and I will be waiting <3

Luckily the meeting ends soon. It’s a breath of fresh air when you finally exit the room and head back to your desk to wrap up and leave. Your long workday is forgotten the moment you get in the car and make your way to Nan’s house. Harry’s Rover is parked in front of the cute cottage, it doesn’t quite suit the style of the neighborhood, especially not your grandma’s house that’s like a cute little cottage, every window is filled with flowers, she has a collection of garden dwarves lining the cobblestoned way up to her front door. Harry has raved to you several times how he can see himself living in a house similar to this when he is sixty and retired. You have a feeling Man knows it too and she is thinking about leaving the house to you and Harry, though it’s obvious Harry would never let her include him in her will, wanting her to take care of members in the family that have less than him.

“Hi there!” you call out as you walk in, but you get no answer, since they are sitting on the back patio, their backs turned towards the door. It’s an adorable sight, their chairs next to each other, watching the garden your Nan spends most her time with taking care of, a glass of lemonade in hand as Nan is explaining something to Harry, you can’t hear what it is, her voice is muffled by the glass door, but you see Harry nodding along, his little sprout on top of his head flopping with each nod. When he turns his head to the side a bit to look at the old lady you notice a tiny yellow flower near the hairclip and the sight completely blows you away.

Quickly, you grab your phone from your purse and snap a picture of them through the glass door, their figure a bit darkened, but the flower can be seen if you take a better look. Locking the phone you know it’ll be your new lockscreen, but right now you want to join them.

“Hello to the gossip club,” you greet them with a teasing smile as you step outside, their heads turning to see you. Stepping closer you lean down and kiss your Nan on the cheek before moving over to sit on Harry’s lap.

“Hi Sweetie! Do you want a lemonade?” Nan smiles at you through her glasses, but you shake your head no.

“I’ll just have a sip from Harry’s,” you say and he brings the glass up to your lips right away. He watches you with a smile as you take the pink straw between your lips and have a taste of his drink.

“What are you guys up to?” you ask, leaning onto Harry. He places the lemonade down next to his chair and wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Nan was telling me how she wants a little pond in the back of the yard.”

“I think it would look absolutely fabulous over there, behind the tulips!” she enthuses, pointing at the area that is now mostly empty. “Maybe with a couple of little fish, or ducks! Ah, that would be such a dream.”

Peeking at Harry you read it out from his eyes that he is already planning how to make it come true and you know that by the end of the year Nan will have her little pond if it’s up to Harry.

You stay a little longer, Harry brings up a few things from the basement for Nan she’ll need later and then it’s time to say goodbye. Nan hugs Harry so tight and long and you decide to leave your car here and ride with Harry. He offers to drop you off here in the morning so you can get to work and he can have breakfast with Nan. He doesn’t say it but he’ll probably already make measurements for the pond and Nan will be over the moon.

She stands by her door, waving at the two of you as you drive away. Smiling you turn to Harry.

“You know, I think I should be jealous at this point.”

“Of Nan?” he grins, his hand reaching over to rest on your thigh.

“Yeah. I swear she is your number one fan.”

“She said she had the boy down the street help her preorder my album,” he grins and your mouth hangs open. “She’ll have a Harry’s House vinyl!”

“I can’t believe this lady!” you chuckle in disbelief.

“I would have given her one without even asking, but I was so touched by it, I almost cried,” Harry admits. You take his hand on your thigh and lace your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Thank you, Harry,” you murmur softly.

“For what?” he asks, glancing at you shortly before his eyes return to the road ahead.

“For… being so nice to her. And not just her, my whole family. You’re always there to help them, you never complain about having to spend time with them.”

“Baby, of course. But you know you do the same for my family right? All those times you helped Gemma out when I was out of the country, when you visit my mum without even being asked to. I hope you know I know about every time you were there and didn’t tell me about it. She calls me when you leave and tells me how much she loves you. Every time.”

“Oh,” you breathe out. Up until now, you though your secret visits were truly secret. Harry never mentioned he knew about them, so you figured Anne didn’t share with him. Guess you were wrong.

“We’re a great team,” he smiles at you, giving your hand a squeeze.

“But not as good as you and Nan,” you joke chuckling.

“Oh, for sure. Nothing can beat me and Nan,” he grins nodding. You don’t argue.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[lunadei]

Hard to Sleep

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Warnings: explicit (18+ MDNI) P in V smut, oral (m receiving), begging, fluff combined with angst

Summary: In a world of chaos, you are the one source of peace in Steven’s life. He doesn’t want to fall asleep, terrified that he might not wake up as himself and risk everything you’ve built together. You attempt to ease Steven’s mind. 

Inspiration: Hard to Sleep - Gracie Abrams (actually sobbed listening to this and immediately had to write some angsty smut).

Steven gazed at your sleeping figure, admiring the sliver of moonlight that cast an iridescent glow across your skin. Your features, usually twisted in concern in his presence, were relaxed and innocent - peaceful. Steven couldn’t recall the last time he had witnessed such peace, such blissful calm in his absurdly chaotic life. He reached out a gentle palm to caress your side before thinking better of it. Absurd as it was, he didn’t want to sully the moment with his touch - as if you were a mirage that would dissipate, returning him to his pitiful reality. 

You were the only aspect of Steven’s life that remained pure, untouched by the brutality of his secret life. Marc and Jake were still unknown to you, as was the Moon Knight. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Your teasing words startled Steven from his trance. His lips curled into a bashful smile, a small flush accenting his cheeks in a way that made your heart swell. 

“Sorry, darling, did I wake you? I didn’t mean to, truly.” He sighed, eyes fluttering as you reached to brush the messy curls from his forehead. 

“Having trouble sleeping again?” Your concerned tone caused warmth to spread throughout Steven’s chest. Though he wanted to shake his head, deny his intended insomnia to prevent you from worrying, he couldn’t lie to you. Not when your eyes bore into his very soul with such genuine compassion. 

“I just don’t want to lose this moment,” he whispered, avoiding your gaze. The true weight of his confession was lost on you, though his somber words stirred something deep within you. You curled your fingers beneath his jaw, lifting him slightly to look at you. 

“Steven,” you paused, briefly captivated by the vulnerability exposed in his now glassy eyes. “You always think too much about what you might lose. Nothing is guaranteed, so why not focus on creating something to remember instead?” You reached for his hand, guiding him to slowly lower the sheet covering your bare form. His fingers danced across your side, exploring your skin as though it were the first and last time he might experience it. 

Steven whispered your name, breathless, both adoration and desire heavy in his tone. With some prompting he shifted to rest his body above you. Warmth pooled in your abdomen, and though your desire was unquestionable, this was more than lust spurred by his achingly beautiful figure. Your chest ached with unparalleled passion as he held you. You couldn’t recall the last time you had felt such affection for someone - had you ever felt this way for anyone else? 

No, you decided. Steven, for all his fumbling and half-truths, was the only one who could make you feel this way. 

“Can I, I mean, would you be okay if -” 

Your lips were on his before he could finish, muffling his satisfied groan. His hands, once hesitant, now roamed your sides with an eagerness that consumed you. You parted only briefly to remove his shirt, wasting no time removing his sweatpants with the same urgency. Your kisses became all tongue and clinking teeth, and god, was it endearing.

Pushing against his chest, you shifted beneath him in a poor attempt to flip him over. Panic swept across his face, and before he could second-guess your actions, you breathed against his lips, “I want to take care of you, let me take care of you.” 

“Are - are you sure?” Hesitant but willing, Steven allowed you to swap positions, gazing at you intently with half-lidded eyes. You trailed kisses down his chest in response, drinking in his unabashed moans. He was already hard, his cock glistening with pre-cum. The knowledge that you caused Steven Grant to come undone before even touching him served to only further turn you on. 

“May I?” You felt him shudder beneath you, nodding frantically as though he could hardly contain his need. 

“Yes - yes, please, Y/n.” You licked a strip slowly from his base to tip before guiding him into your mouth, relishing in the unrestrained moan he released. Steven was always so vocal, so needy in a way that made thighs ache. You rewarded by increasing your tender pace, adding your hand to engulf him fully in the way you knew made him melt. His hips arched of their own accord, extending his length further into your mouth. The vibrations of your own muffled moan caused him to grip your hair, holding onto you as though his life depended on it. You felt his hips sputter beneath you, his breath growing shallow as he cried out for you, signaling that he was approaching the edge. 

“Bloody hell, Y/n, I’m not going to last.” He allowed himself one more moment of pleasure before removing you from him. “Love, that feels - hell, it feels amazing, more than amazing, incredible, really. But, I don’t want to finish inside your mouth. I want, I want...” He trailed off, ever the gentleman, still too nervous to speak his desires regardless of the circumstances. 

“What do you want, Steven?” You beckoned, leaning to place a kiss against his tip as you peered at him through your lashes. “I want you to tell me what you want.” 

“Fuck,” Steven swearing was rare, truly a sight to behold, and you couldn’t help but feel pleased at how quickly you had dismantled his composure. “I want to be inside of you, I want to make you feel as good as you make me. Please, Y/n.” Perhaps another time you would have dragged out his desperation, admired his pleading for just a moment longer. 

Not tonight. You needed him now. 

Bracing one hand on his chest, you guided him to your entrance before slowly sinking down. Allowing him to bottom-out, you paused for a moment, your core fluttering around him as you observed his head thrown back in ecstasy. Fingers clenched your waist, sure to leave purple marks in their wake. You rolled your hips, setting a languid pace that made your toes curl. Riding him you could feel how perfectly he filled you, how every inch of him seemed to be made for you. 

“Oh, dove, you’re so perfect, so beautiful.” The desperation in his gaze further stoked the fire within you. Chasing his pleasure, Steven’s hips thrust to meet your pace, eliciting a wanton cry from your lips as he hit the sensitive spot within you. As if you weren’t already high enough, nearly on the brink of complete and utter destruction, Steven’s hand glided down your stomach - thumb brushing over your clit as he began to draw lazy circles. 

“Is this alright, dove?” You moan in response, coherent words slipping from your mind as the coil within you tightens dramatically. Your pace is brutal, stars exploding beneath your closed eyes as you tighten around him. You’re close, teetering on the edge. Though part of you never wants to this end, preferring to spend eternity with him deep within you, moaning your name. 

“Y/n, love, look at me,” Steven beckons, his thumb flicking your sensitive bud. “I want to see you when you cum on me.” Your breath catches in your throat at that, eyes peering open. His hair hangs in unruly curls against his forehead, sweat glistening against his tanned skin. But his eyes, oh his eyes - a tantalizing, sexed-out gaze encompassed in those chocolate hues that destroys any semblance of control you had left. 

His moans are growing more desperate, pushing you closer to the brink as the coil within you threatens to snap. You’re so close, clenching around him, desperate to take everything he has. 

“God, Y/N, fuck. I’m going to cum,” Feeling his hips stutter, the knowledge of his impending release is enough to throw you over the edge. Waves of pleasure rip through your core, legs overtaken by violent tremors as you all but collapse on his chest. You feel Steven still within you, reaching his own release deep within you as you continue to grind your hips against him. 

“I love you Steven,” the words escape your lips quicker than you can comprehend, still delirious with the aftershock of your orgasm. Your relationship was still so new, so uncertain, and neither of you had yet to mention love in any context. Still, you knew it wasn’t just the post orgasmic haze clouding your judgement. You were madly in love with Steven, utterly entranced by every absurd little quirk, every gentle, questioning kiss, the sleepless nights. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, and for a moment you consider that perhaps you frightened him away. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -” He lifts your chin to place a chaste kiss on your lips, effectively chasing away any doubts. 

“I love you, Y/n, a thousand times over, in a thousand life times.” He peppers soft kisses across your face, his whispers of ‘I love you’ settling deep within your chest. He’s still inside you, lips pressed against your forehead, unwilling to part. 

For the first night in as long as he can remember, Steven sleeps peacefully, free of dreams, free of the Moon Knight, with you wrapped in his embrace.   

[mattmurdocksdumpy]

𝕴’𝖛𝖊 𝖌𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖓

𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥, 𝕤𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕟𝕜𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃���𝓈: nsfw, dacryphilia, pnv, unprotected sex, choking ( slight), dumbification, porn with plot, just being a whore for Marc Spector tbh

not proof read.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The london sky was clear tonight, a perfect view of the speckled night sky of the bustling city. Due to the fact that the window was facing towards a back street, there was few streetlights to pollute the picture perfect image of the bright crescent moon. You had often found yourself sitting on the window ledge when Marc was gone out, a poetry book nestled in your lap, with the window open just a smidge on the safety hinge, allowing the cool London breeze to whisper against your bare legs tucked to your chest.He had been gone for a couple hours.

His nightly routine.

You originally had fallen in love with Marc, chasing mysterious forces all over Egypt and Cairo.Until he left.

When you bumped into a familiar face in a Museum in London, you were not expecting the long lengthy explanation that ‘Steven’ had for you. You told your side to Steven, about how Marc and you were deeply in love and how together you chased the moon and stars over the hot sand in the depths of Egyptian sun. About how one day you rolled over to kiss him good morning, but his side of the bed was left vacant, with only the memory of his form shown through the wrinkles in the duvet.

For a while it was just you and Steven side by side, whether it be trying to teach him to summon the suit or doing the dirty dishes with him. Steven and you shared stolen glances, but nothing further than that. He didn’t want any conflict with Marc. He tried his best to get Marc to front, but alas Steven was frontstuck, and Marc coward in the corner of their thoughts, scared of presenting himself.

He only came out for one thing.

To serve.

Then when he got home, he’d immediately shut you out, hiding in the bathroom until he forced Steven to take control, so he didn’t have to face you.

The chime of the locks on the door alerted you that he was there. You closed the poetry book, but other than that did not move a muscle.

Still like a statue, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

You heard his heavy footsteps move into the apartment, heading to the fish tank, where he picked up the little tub and shook it once.

“I can’t believe I’m feeding a fucking fish.” He chuckled, before sniffling. You knew that more than likely he was sniffly due to a dodgy punch to the nose, something he frequently acquired , and something he usually looked after in the bathroom. As he kicked off his boots and started walking to the bathroom, he felt the cool breeze of the ajar window against his neck.

He seemed to take no notice of it, grabbing the door of the bathroom to push it open. Only it didn’t budge.

You tried to contain your smirk as the cold metal pressed against your thighs, hidden under the book on your lap.

“Just give me the keys.” He sighed, not even turning around to look at you. His head hung heavy with his chin pressed to his chest.

“Marc. We need to talk. You cant keep hiding behind Ste-“ you stated before he cut you off.

“Give me the goddamn keys.” He turned around sharply, his voice matching his actions.

You instantly recognized the stare. Stevens stare had a softer edge, his brown eyes looking more like puppy dog eyes, even when the two of you had conflict of any sort ( which was rare).

You shook your head at him, your knees relaxing a bit, allowing the cool metal jingle to be muffled by Marc’s old T-shirt. He turned his head and smirked. But it wasn’t genuine.

He wanted those goddamn keys.

But you weren’t giving up that easy, not on him.

He paced towards you, one foot after another before stopping just inches in-front of you, his tall frame echoing over your seated , smaller frame.

He stuck his hand out, and the pale moonlight illuminated the bruises and small cuts on his knuckles. “Now sweetheart”

You instinctively looked to your lap. “I don’t have them on me. You’re going to have to talk to me to get them. Face me. Talk to me.” You said calmly, instead slipping your hand into his palm instead of the keys. Your movements were slow and hesitant, but he didn’t seem to back away.

“I’m trying to protect you.” He sighed, slightly moving his palm away.

You instinctively held his hand, not allowing him to move any further. “Forget protecting me. I’m safest when I’m with my you. When I’m with my husband” you whispered, tears threatening to prick at your eyes.

He made direct eye contact for the first time since that faithful morning. The moon illuminated the resentment in his eyes, an internal battle far beyond those pupils that not even you could understand.

And then he just closed his eyes, let go of your hand and walked away. You thought he was going to leave, but instead he moved to sit on stevens busted couch, putting his hand in his head and emitting a loud groan.

Your hand moved to the book, tucking the key close to it as you placed it on the window ledge. You quietly padded over, standing infront of him as he hid the only way he could. Your hesitantly put your hand on his shoulder, rubbing circles with your thumb.

He dropped his hands, letting them hang from his wrists. His eyes found yours, looking up innocently, and if you hadn’t seen the coldness that hid behind them, you would’ve thought it was Steven looking up at you. Your hands found his jaw, cradling it and repeating the circular motion you had previously been using on his back, only much more gentle.

His eyes fluttered close, before finding their focus spot on the wood floors and the shabby rug you were standing on. “I thought I was doing the right thing.” He stated, slightly hesitating with your comforting touch. He never felt that sort of touch anymore. Touch to him was thrown punches and sore knuckles.

Touch to him was violent.

You didn’t know how else to comfort him, his eyes no longer looking into yours. You tilted his head up, and his heavy lids told you everything he hadn’t said.

This hurt him too. Having to leave hurt him too.

His eyes finally found yours again, and his lips parted slightly. He spread his legs, giving you the opportunity to stand between them.

‘’Mon chéri’’ you whispered out, moving to cup his jaw with your other hand as well. He didn’t move away this time, shooting you a soft smile with pain filled eyes. Memories of your life together flashed through both of your heads as the room filled with a comforting silence.

His hands moved to your waist as his once cold eyes filled with their old warmth.

“Ma chérie’’ he whispered out. His smile returned, different from stevens, but familiar and comforting nonetheless. His eyes flickered to your lips briefly, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest.

the thoughts running through Marc’s head were just as loud.

don’t rush her. don’t fuck it up.

Your hands were soft against his stubborn stubble. Soft against the bruises left from the fight earlier that night.

Like velvet.

You smiled down at him, before looking at his own lips. You stepped closer to him and your grip on his jaw tightened ever so slightly, forcing him to keep the eye contact. His eyes once again flickered to your lips, which were curved up in a slight soft smile.

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered, terrified of rejection. But your fear dissipated when he nodded and pulled you closer, the grip on your waist tightening. You smiled down at him, before gently kissing him. His lips immediately mirrored yours, mirroring the pain and admiration you both had shared.

He pulled you impossible closer to him, his lips immediately dominating yours and leading yours in a split second change. His grip on your waist tightened yet again, and you were sure he was leaving bruises underneath his shirt from the first year of your relationship. You don’t think he recognized it in the dark, but perhaps he would recognize it in the morning sun.

You moaned into the kiss, your body filling with happiness and a melancholy twang all at once. He smirked slightly into the kiss before pulling away, much to your dismay. He leant his forehead against yours and sighed.

“If we keep going you know where and how this will end tonight” he muttered, clearing his throat.

You looked at him through your batted lashes, smiling slightly. “I don’t mind”

“I’m different then how I was.. I’m.. rougher” he responded, his hands separating from your waist and instead turning into a light hug around your body.

“You’re still you. You’re still my husband. You’re still the man I love Marc” you said softly, one hand staying against his jaw and the other moving to his hair, stroking it and playing with it.

He let out a shaky breath and within seconds you had rejoined your lips to his. You deepened the kiss nearly immediately, earning a satisfied groan from him. His hands moved from a hug to a tight grip on your ass and he tugged you forwards.

You abided, remembering his small little pointers of what he wanted. You gently straddled him, your skimpy pajama shorts being pressed directly against the rough material of his jeans. You cupped his face once again, looking down at the man underneath you.

The sliver of silver moonlight shining in the window pane illuminated his olive features. You haven’t noticed the new scars on Steven, but Marc was wearing them with guilt and grief. He had one just above his eyelid, and one just on his jaw. They were the most prominent new ones. Ones not present the last time you held his face close in this manner.

“Let me know- let me know if I hurt you” he muttered out, his heavy eyes searching yours for reassurance.

You smirked and leaned down, your lips next to his ear.

“I’ve grown to like a little pain” you whispered, before kissing his neck, your hands reaching around his neck to hold onto him. He let out a little gasp at your comment, and his hips bucked involuntarily.

You kissed his neck, sucking gently to leave small little lovebites, only a few to be respectful of Steven. Marc was arching to your touch, and you’d swear you’ve never seen him like this before.

You kissed your way back up to his lips, eloping them once more as he hummed in contentment. His hips rocked up against you, and his hands wandered to your hips.

“What the hell did London do to you-?” He chuckled, leaning his head up against the back of the couch

“It’s called abstinence~ I’ve missed you” you smiled. His veiny hands began gliding your crotch across his, creating a perfect amount of friction.

“You haven’t-?” He asked, brown quirking up.

“I mean I’ve gotten myself off but I haven’t slept with someone since the night before you left” you mumbled, your mind going numb from pleasure.

He smiled at this, his hands tugging at the corners of his shirt. You chuckled, before taking it off over your head. You hadn’t worn a bra, as you had expected to settle down after he came home and the two of you argued or he left, which neither of such have happened so far.

His hands reached around your back and pulled you closer to him. His hand engulfed your tits, squeezing ever so slightly and releasing a groan from his lips.

“Such a pretty little slut aren’t you?~” he chuckled, before kissing your tit, alternating between sucking and licking, and beginning to leave pretty purple marks all over.

You moaned at this, as well as the repeated friction hitting your clit just right. Your hand wandered between the two of you, finding the large bulge under you and you to palm him, rubbing circular motions through the thick material of his jeans. He groaned and bucked up into your touch, craving you and only you.

And then you removed one leg from beside him, your toes hovering over the floor to find your footing. After planting one foot down, you removed your other leg from his side and kneeled before him.

You sat back on your heels, and he smirked, his hand finding his zipper and swiftly removing his jeans, throwing them to the side. You waited patiently until he leant back against the couch, his cock now exposed.

You hesitantly moved closer, your hands planting themselves on his upper thigh. His skin was hot to touch, almost like burning sand on a hot summers day.

burning.

“Go on. You know what to do.” He smiled, putting one arm over the back of the couch. You glanced up at him. A sly smirk graced his features, as well as lust filling his honey brown eyes.

You nodded, moving up to sit on your knees. Your hand grasped his shaft, earning a groan from his throat. God he was touch starved.

You gave him a second to adjust, before beginning to move your hand up and down repeatedly, stopping just under the ridge of his tip. He was bigger than average, and exceptionally thicker. He had big dick energy, and that wasn’t him being deceiving.

You lucked up the underside of his cock, following a thick vein all the way up to his tip. He looked down at you, his eyes stern. And then you wrapped your lips around him, humming as his hand rushed to your hair, gathering some hair in a makeshift pony tail.

“Atta girl~ “ he groaned, his head ripping back slightly as you continued bobbing your head, your hand touching anywhere yours lips weren’t.

He tugged at your hair as you took him deeper, still not being able to fit all of him. His hips rocked up against your mouth, and you could feel tears prickle at your eyes.

His hand collecting your hair held you closer to his cock, forcing you to continue deepthroating him. Tears trickled down your face and you hummed around him.

And then will a strangled groan he pulled you off, tugging at your hair harshly. You glanced up at him through glazed eyes, the remnants of your tears smearing your left over mascara. His cheeks were flushed, and you could see the stained blood around his nose from the punches thrown an hour before. He offered his palm to you, and you graciously took it before returning to his lap, straddling him once more.

His hands cupped you’re face, wiping away the tears as he smiled up at you. “Pretty baby can’t even take my cock in her throat without crying. You need a good fuck- fuck the sense back into you” he chuckled. His hands disappeared to your hips, tugging at the elastic of the pajama shorts.

“Off now. Before I tear them.” He threatened, letting the elastic slap against your exposed skin. You jumped a little before standing up, tugging them off along with your lacy underwear and discarding them to the floor.

He stood up, his hands going to your bare ass. He leant in close to your ear. “Jump”

And you did just that, wrapping your legs around his waist so you sat comfortable in his arms. You kissed him deeply, as you felt him navigate the two of you to the bedroom. Stepping over the stand, he placed you down gently, the bed creaking ever slightly.

You lay down, admiring the man infront of you. You watched as he tugged his tee shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor, getting it lost in the sand.

Then he looked at something at the end of the bed. You raised a brow, before using your elbows to perk you up.

Your eyes met his before glancing at the small cuff, the silver glinting in the moonlight. Without thinking, you nodded towards him and he grinned, grabbed your ankle and fastened it around you.

He stood over you, glancing down at you , before getting on the bed. Climbing over you, he quickly turned you onto your stomach, your face turned into the pillow.

“Ass up.” He said sternly, warm hands coming in contact with your bare hip and pulling it up towards him. Your back arched your ass up against him, and you could feel his cock against yours thighs. He spat on his hand, slipping it towards your slit and softly massaging. Calloused fingers against the bundle of nerves.

“Fucksake Marc enough teasing. Just fuck me” you whined, shoving your ass back towards him. He chuckled before pushing into you harshly. You would’ve nearly fallen flat on the bed if it wasn’t for his tight grip on your hips, a grip so tight that it was sure to bruise.

Inch by inch he pushed in, and your eyes shut with pleasure. He let out a moan, before muttering a string of curses.

The sound of the bed creaking and pornographic moans coming from your mouths was the only sound in the otherwise pin-drop silence of the building

His pace started slow, knowing he was substantially larger than average and it had been awhile, but even with his slow pace you could feel him stretching you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was definitely noticeable.

And then his pace picked up, the bed squeaking beneath you both as he pounded into you. The ankle restraint jingled now and then, causing him to smile, but other than that his face ( from what you could see from the awkward angle) was stern and focused.

He grabbed your hair, yanking it towards him. “Come on pretty slut~ sit up! What are you, huh? Are you fuckin lazy?” He grunted. You whimpered before mustering all your energy to sit up on your knees. One of his hands came to hold you against him , resting against your stomach, while the other found its way wrapped around your throat.

His thrusts only got faster and deeper, harsh and violent. But the kisses he was leaving on your neck told another story. His lips started just below your ear, kissing with passion and attentiveness. They worked there way down to your pulse point, where he bit gently, rolling the skin between his lips and marking you. He knew they’d be difficult to cover for your job tomorrow, but frankly, he didn’t care. You felt your whole body shiver, as you already began to feel the pit in your stomach tighten, contracting your muscles.

He chuckled slightly, his thrusts still harsh and cruel, and you knew you’d be sore tomorrow. His hand on your stomach dipped lower, creeping over your pubic bone before nestling between your legs. He dragged one finger from just above your entrance all the way up to your clit, dragging your slick up words. You already knew what was coming, and you knew that no matter what you still were not prepared.

He used two fingers to circle your clit, not too light and not too hard.

Just right.

He was the only one who knew exactly what you wanted.

His fingers on your clit began moving faster, alternating between different pressures and toying with your clit directly.

The coil in your stomach tightened, and your mind went blank. The hand on your neck turned your jaw to him. You looked at him through dazed eyes and heavy lids. His eyes were piercing, watching your every breath and hearing your every moan.

“Marc-“

His lips quirked up as he let out a groan.

“You wanna come pretty slut? Wanna come on my cock? Go on then~ show me what a good little whore you are” he grunted, before smashing your lips together. A kiss fueled by passion and lust and hunger.

His fingers quickened their assault, and you felt the coil snap. You moaned loudly, but it was muffled by the kiss and you can’t help but feel that Marc did that on purpose so Steven didn’t get any noise complaints. You felt 1000 degrees, but yet your body was shivering. Your entire body spasmed, and his thrusts paused momentarily, as did your kiss. His hand on your neck and your clit moved to your waist, preventing you from flopping face first onto the bed. Your hearing went fuzzy, as did your sight and you whimpered as you pulsed around him. His grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, and his pace picked up even more. With two harsh and deep thrusts, you felt him spill into you with a loud moan. You heard a muffled string of curses before he pulled out, still holding onto you. His cum dribbled down your thigh, and you subconsciously squeezed your thighs together to soothe the strong pulse in your cunt. You closed your eyes, trying your hardest to ground yourself. You felt the bed dip, as he placed his hand beside you both. Then you felt him gently lower you to the bed, rolling you over onto your back.

You opened your eyes, and even though the room was practically dark, the light coming in the window felt blinding. He heard him chuckle, the bed dipping beside you as he slotted himself in behind you. His hand lazily thrown over your waist.

Maybe touch doesn’t have to be violent all the time.

He smiled, placing a kiss to your neck. For a brief second it felt like the happiest time of your lives, when you would wake up next to eachother and exchange sweet nothings which turned to flirtatious promises. The two of you were exhausted and basked in eachothers heat. After a few minutes, you felt a small tap to your ass, causing you to turn around to face him.

“You gotta go pee” he whispered, earning a lazy groan from you.

“I don’t know if I can walk” you chuckled, before prying his arm off your waist and sitting up. You hissed at the sting in your thighs, before leaning on the bedside table to haul yourself up and hobble to the bathroom. On your way to the bathroom, you picked up your shirt, slipping it over your head and humming to yourself as it settled against your body.

You yawned as you tried to pull the door open… which it did not.

“You’re gonna need the keys for that sweetheart” A low voice mumbled behind you. You turned around sharply, jumping at the sudden appearance of Marc leaning against the wall. Butt. Ass. Naked.

“Put some clothes on Marc, what are you? A whore?” You smirked, walking over to the window ledge to the poetry book.

“I wasn’t the one who was a whimpering mess ten minutes ago. You were practically out cold for five minutes yknow? I did a real number on ya” his thick accent drawled even more than usual, his heavy lids showcasing his fatigue. You blushed at his remark, before picking up the poetry book and taking the keys out from inbetween some pages. He rolled his eyes.

“Thought you said you didn’t have them on you?” He questioned, his eyebrows raised and a quick upturn of his lips paired with them.

“I didn’t! You literally stripped me, you would’ve spotted em” you smirked, before prancing over to the bathroom. His hand caught your waist before you reached your destination and pulled you towards him. It was at that moment his eyes flickered to the teeshirt you were wearing. His smile dropped, and his brows furrowed. His eyes met yours.

“That’s my shirt? Jesus how long have you had that” he smiled, his eyes studying the simple graphic slogan on the front.

You smiled back at him, watching as the small crinkles appeared around his eyes for the first time in years. “Since the first time you fucked me” you grinned, before placing a fleeting kiss to his lips and padding into the bathroom.

Marc stood there , shaking his head with a smile. The moonlight fluttered in the window again, the cold air bustling in the ajar window causing a shiver down his spine.

“You’d better talk to her tomorrow. Hope you aren’t just gonna one and done it ! “

Maybe it wasn’t the window giving him a chill. No. It was the tiny British man inside of him.

Marc rolled his eyes at the unfamiliar man in the mirror, whose hair was just as dishevelled as his. “I know Steven. Im not a fuckin toddler” he whispered.

“You bloody act like it enough! Take her out! She loves th-“

“I know! The Thai place on the corner. I introduced it to her dumbass” Marc sighed.

Just as Steven was about to speak, you popped your head out of the bathroom, your hair still sticking up in random places and your cheeks pink and flushed.

Marc briefly glanced at the man in the mirror. Your eyes met his and followed their line of vision.

“Steven?” You questioned. Marc hesitantly nodded. He wasn’t used to you knowing about him.

“He thinks I don’t know how to charm you” he chuckled, half hoping your response would also be a laugh, craving the reassurance.

“Stevens the biggest charmer of all, you could learn from him” you winked, before planting a kiss to his cheek with a giggle and disappearing into the bedroom.

Marc smiled as you walked by, before returning his eyes to the mirror.

“I told y-“

“Zip it” Marc laughed, before turning around and following you into bed.

[gib-vinegar]

Yandere! Klarion The Witch Boy Headcanons (Young Justice)

A/N: Feel free to skip this if the subject matter makes you uncomfy! 0u0 OOC warning (?) as well. Picture edited by me.

P.S, I do not condone this behavior in real life.

• Klarion is delusional and wants all of your time and attention when he’s around. He found the whole idea of soulmates and all that to be a waste of time until he saw you. He just felt something *click* in his head as he stared at you, this new, raw feeling threatening to overwhelm his senses he was so sure it couldn’t be anything else other than this gushy emotion mortals fought and died for. Love. Such a sweet feeling, and we know he’s got a sweet tooth. ♡  • Whatever personality or occupation you have won’t matter to him. Hero, Villain or just a regular civilian he adores you all the same, and he’s 100 percent sure that when you meet him you’ll feel the same way he does! You’re soulmates after all, duh! • Any sort of positive affirmation, be it big or small he’ll take it as confirmation that you like him back. Even if you act like you hate his guts his mind will spin it as you playfully teasing him and if anyone besides you tries to contradict his mindset, well… he’s been looking for a new chew toy for his dear Teekl… • Speaking of which... helping protect Teekl in some way will endear you to him quicker, but it’s not the only way to catch his attention. Nonetheless the feline will end up becoming a platonic yandere for you down the line in Klarion’s obsession.

• Will absolutely stalk you before and after officially “meeting” you but there’s a few times when he almost got caught by accidentally being too loud or something of the sort. Other times he gets Teekl to follow you into certain places and report back to him later if it’s an area that’s safe for her to be in on her own.

• If you ever notice any of your friends acting strangely and giving you a dazed or lovesick expression, it’s Klarion in disguise– but he never stays like that around you too long, he was just curious on how you act with him vs your friends, if you show affection to him while he’s like that he’ll be over the moon! …until he remembers what form he’s in and promptly excuses himself to go throw a tantrum somewhere far away from your location.

• Vandal picks up on the witch boy’s fondness for you early, but not the intensity of it in the beginning. He’s seen Klarion go through phases over the countless millennia they’ve worked together where he would fixate for a while on a particular subject or person before it died off one way or another. He’ll get over it…

• Except he didn’t, it was different this time, stronger than before and now it’s getting to the point where it could be a liability to The Light’s plans if you were involved in any of them. If you end up getting hurt because of something they orchestrated, Klarion will flip out and go after whoever was involved with said plan and might even leave the group entirely. So it’s best for the other members’ safety to keep away from his beloved (Y/n) in this regard.

• Klarion hates the people you’re close to with a burning passion. Why would you waste your time with those stupid, weak mortals when you could do whatever you want on Earth with him? Why even stop at Earth, any planet is on the table, he doesn’t mind! No limitations, no consequences. Anyone who tries to keep you two apart will suffer a grisly fate. (Pun intended)

• Confession…? Well it’s less of a confession and more like a “Kay you’re coming with me from now on my dear! :D We’re gonna have so much fun–” while he’s basically kidnapping you. You’d most likely already know his feelings for you by now with how affectionate he acts towards you. If you don’t realize how much danger you are in by now, it will quickly become evident when he slaughters anyone who might have tried to stop him from taking you. • If it turns out that you do feel the same way however, a few things would be different from your other choice of refusing him. First off, there won’t be any punishments since you won’t be trying to leave. Hooray! You will also have a chance to keep your family and friends safe from him too in this case since he’ll be more open to suggestions on places you go to and people possibly being spared, making it easier to keep them out of his sight. But no matter what he’s gonna bring you everywhere and be practically glued at the hip so get comfy.

• Klarion’s not one for sticking in one place for too long unless he needs to, so most of the time you’re gonna be tagging along with him as he wreaks havoc or is on a mission. He brings you into battles and shows off so you can see that he can keep you safe and happy (Press X to doubt) and that you need him. • If you’re hoping for Teekl to show any sympathy to your plight, you’re dead wrong. In fact, by this time she’s gotten attached enough to you to be a platonic yandere now. She’ll be helping her master keep an eye on you and protect you but if you try to sneak away when the Chaos Lord is napping or locked in battle she’ll stop you from leaving and snitch on you to Klarion about your recent attempt to hightail it out of there. Unless of course, you start giving her some head scritches and belly rubs in exchange for keeping quiet. • Punishments happen if you try to make him see through the delusions, which will disrupt his fantasy of you loving him back if you push him hard enough, usually resulting in a rage filled tantrum at the continued insistence of letting you go. “NO! I’m never letting you go so stop saying it! You’re MINE. Mine mine mine mine mine--” • So you think you don’t need him huh? You wanna leave? Fine! He’ll just dump you in a situation where you’ll be in constant peril until you plead with him to come back and help you. “See? You do need me after all.” Klarion would scoff and heal whatever physical wounds you may have but you would most likely be traumatized after this whole ordeal. Then he goes back to doting on you as if he forgot what just happened. • If you end up escaping without Klarion or Teekl noticing until it’s too late, Klarion’s gonna start freaking out about you being kidnapped or whatever while Teekl is facepalming in the background but worried for your safety. Klarion will start to go everywhere and demand you be brought back to him RIGHT NOW as he’s causing mass chaos anywhere he can until he gets you returned to him, The Light’s plans be damned. The rest of The Light might even help him by being on the lookout for you since he’s gonna start thinking that they are involved in your disappearance if they don’t. The longer you’re gone, the more the body count is going to rise. Unless Dr. Fate is there to have a chance to stop him, it will be a struggle for any other heroes trying to fix things. Maybe come back soon if you can’t handle all the lives being lost in your absence? • You might have to lie and think of a scapegoat if you do come back to him of your own volition because he’s gonna want somebody to torture for taking you away for so long. If you get captured by someone he knows and they explain what happened to him then he’s just gonna punish you again until you stop. trying. to. leave!! • He’ll make you immortal whether you want to be or not, you don’t have a choice in the matter. Nothing or nobody else is allowed to have you– not even death itself. ♡

[euphoricpixi3]

because you’re mine (it seems like we’re meant to be)

reader x elliot // bonfire fluff

warnings: drugs , alcohol use

a/n : i know this is very random, considering i’m a bts account, but recently euphoria has been giving me motivation to write, so feel free to request more!💫

the white shafts of daylight have passed, gone are the shadows of evening. flames from the fire rise boldly against the black sky. before that great fire their skin is glowing red, orange and gold. every eye is reflecting the flickering light, each iris containing a small picture of the bonfire before them. yet, it isn't simply just the sight that has you mesmerized, so too has the crackling and the woody fragrance of smoke. you end up being put in front of elliot’s legs, feelings his knees against your back. you feel something press against your lips. as you look down to see a cup and elliot’s face, peering up at you imploringly as he offers the drink to you.of course, you take it, pulling it away to peer into the contents.

 “what is this?” you ask; it’s bright blue and looks like there’s glitter in it.

“i made it,” says elliot, and that’s enough of a reason to believe that you won’t die drinking it. so you knock back half of it in one go, swallowing and then frowning as you hand the cup back. 

“it’s supposed to taste like blueberry slushie, but i’m not sure if i got it right”.

you smack your lips. “tastes more like synthetic syrup” you admit, moving your hand to run your fingers over the nape of elliot’s neck.

his lips curl back into a hazy grin, reaching up to plant a kiss on your lips “i guess you’re right” elliot says moving back, but you kiss him back, a little harder than necessary; you’re not nearly drunk enough, but you kiss elliot like that anyway.“alright, alright,” rue calls. “don’t start fucking with all of us here”

elliot pulls back, turning to look at her, then pecks your cheek smiling, “there’s a first time for everything.”

beside rue, lexi makes a pained noise and immediately gets up. 

you pull back from elliot just enough, although you’re still tangled together as the rest of you dissolve into another conversation.

you let yourself listen to the lazy conversation as elliot wraps himself around you, clingier than usual thanks to the alcohol. elliot can still remember the new year’s eve, when you’ve crushed through the door trying to find rue, as cliche as it sounds, he knew you’ll mean a lot to him in the near future. 

and you did, still do.

maybe it was inevitable, then, for you to fall together the way you did—under the stars, and the entire world at your feet. when you kissed him for the first time out there, elliot told you it was probably a bad idea. but as soon as your lips met, both knew, there was no going back.you bring the joint to your lips and inhaling before you let out a long stream of smoke as you stare up at the stars.

there’s a light touch of elliot’s fingers caressing your sides.

you look up at him with that same lazy grin; there’s only the light of the moon and the fire, but it’s enough to see the way elliot looks at you. 

you want to blame it on the alcohol and the drugs, but elliot always kind of looks at you like he can’t believe you are real, like no high or euphoria could ever compare. you understand. it’s the way you look at him, too.

you take another drag of your joint and then lift your chin up, and elliot gets it immediately, leaning down and over you until your lips are nearly touching. you hold it for a second, at least until elliot gets impatient and bites your bottom lip, and then you open your mouth and breathe the smoke into his mouth. you can feel elliot grinning as your lips brush together, and then you lift your head up an inch to press your lips together into a kiss.by the time you resurface—or elliot pulls away, letting you back into the rest of the world, because it’s always hard to focus on anything else—the others have started their own conversation.

“you two are making me sick,” says nate.

“you’re fucking sick,” says fez.

you’re too lost in your own thoughts, brought back to the present only by elliot tickling your chin, leaning in and whispering, “are you sleeping?”

you grin, keeping your eyes closed as you murmurs “just thinking.”

“about?”

you hum. “you.”

elliot kisses your nose. you finally open your eyes, looking up at elliot looking down at you.

“i love you, you know,” says elliot, not taking his eyes off you.

you thumb at the corners of elliot’s mouth,“ i love you too,” you answer, breathless.

[hwangsify]

SKZ HEADCANONS: ROMANTIC GESTURES !

pairing. skz x gn reader

genre. fluff

warnings. mentions of food, excessive amounts of fluff

summary. romantic things skz would do for you as lovers.

word count. 0.8k+

a/n: headcanons are perfect to write when you feel like writing but can't bring yourself to write an actual writing piece 😭 this is my first headcanon so i apologize if it's cringey T-T i've been wanting to write this one for forever though so i'm so glad i finally had the chance.

chan : let's you listen to all the tracks on his laptop. laughs at all your dumb jokes. wraps a casual arm around your waist just to assure himself that you're here. stares at you with the most lovesick gazes. takes you grocery shopping because you're both disgustingly domestic. hypes you up for the smallest things. holds your bag for you whenever you're out in public. smiles whenever he kisses you because he's down bad. a light dusting of pink across his cheeks whenever you praise him. thoughtful texts reminding you to stay hydrated. innumerable backhugs — he can't help it, he just likes you so, so much.

minho : teases you mercilessly over the smallest things. randomly cooks for you and tries to play it off ("i made too much samgyeopsal so i guess you can have some"). drapes a blanket over you when he comes home to you asleep on the couch. complains loudly when you ask but teaches you all the stray kids choreographies anyways. takes you to cat cafés and indulges you when you insist on taking pictures of him. quizzes you on your chemistry flashcards when you're stressing over your exams. would probably get you the moon if you asked even though he'd never admit it. late nights spent binging all of us are dead. inside jokes that only exist between the two of you. lovelorn gazes in your direction whenever you're not looking.

changbin : aggressively hugs you every chance he gets. drags you to the gym with him whenever he works out because he just enjoys your company so much. grins cockily whenever you compliment him. casually feeds you random bits of his lunch. is immensely observant when it comes to you despite his loud and boisterous personality. stares openly at you at times until you get blushy and tell him to stop. is always holding your hand. indulges you in literally everything and anything. composes songs inspired by you. small gestures that make your heart flutter. contented laughter echoing through his apartment whenever you come over— the kind of laughter only changbin could draw out of you.

hyunjin : draws you! fills his notebook with sketches of you. has a picture of you as the wallpaper of his phone. eats your cooking even when it takes like shit. loves you openly and fiercely. melts over the simplest intimate gestures like the hopeless romantic that he is. asks about your day on a regular basis. constantly takes pictures of you because he just thinks you're so pretty. polaroids of the two of you pinned to the walls in his room. late night walks devoted to casual conversation and laughter. matching rings. sleepy kisses exchanged in his bed on saturday mornings.

jisung : demands kisses from you every other second. brings you to the studio and let's you watch him record even though he finds it embarrassing. randomly comes over to bring you cheesecake. clumsily makes kimchi scrambled eggs for you on sunday mornings. calls you regularly just because he wants to hear your voice. uses cringey pet names on you just to annoy you. brings home kongguksu on late friday nights when he knows you're too tired to cook. frenzied greetings whenever you meet up. exaggerated pouts when you reject his kisses. ridiculous excuses just so that he can come see you.

felix : regularly texts you and almost always leaves an emoticon at the end of each message ("sleep well! i hope you dream of me :D"). sends his messages in short spurts and leaves like 79 notifs on your phone each time (like how he does on bubble). adores you infinitely in everything that you do. leaves brownies by your doorway whenever he thinks you've been studying too hard. baking competitions on warm summer evenings. linked arms and laced fingers whenever you're out in public. unlimited song recommendations sent via text. "saw this and thought of you <3"

seungmin : is the definition of nonchalant intimacy — "did you eat yet?" "dress up. you don't want to catch a cold" "do you want me to come over?" keeps a protective hand on the small of your back whenever you're in crowded places. lends you his hoodies whenever you're cold. lets you lean your head on his shoulder during long car rides. pours milk in both your cereal bowls during breakfast. gentle forehead kisses. casual study dates. iced americanos left on your desk whenever he stops by your apartment. thoughtful gestures whenever you feel upset.

jeongin : shies away from your hugs just to tease you. grins fondly down at his phone whenever he texts you until one of his members teases him about it (mainly minho). memorizes your body language to the point where he can read your mood almost instantly. still blushes whenever you kiss him like a 14-year old. brings you bouquets of roses on your coffee dates. watches mukbang asmrs with you on youtube. the brightest smiles whenever he sets his eyes on you. boxes of chocolates on valentine's day. afternoon naps together in your bed under a cocoon of blankets, limbs intertwined in a tangled mess.