#luxwrites

[luxwritesfanfic]

Don’t Take The Money

Poor reader thought it would end up being a normal Sunday but that must’ve been the mix of bleach and Pinesol fumes getting to their head. Or, the one where reader finds out they have more in common with the other woman in Sherlock’s life than they thought and Sherlock has an aneurysm at the revelation. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You were just waking up when Sherlock was moving around the bedroom trying to pack his overnight bag. You groaned at the noise of drawers being opened and hangers jostled and rolled over onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Sherlock? You’re leaving?”

He stopped in his tracks back towards the closet and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. He looked down at you with fondness that so many people thought he was incapable of feeling and as always, it made your heart swell. Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, you relished in his undivided attention.

“A case was brought to my attention. I won’t be gone for long, it’s a few towns over.” He insists, trying to ease your worries before they arise.

Although you’d miss him, it never did anyone any good when Sherlock was bored. He needed something to keep him occupied and you needed time to clean up the drywall shrapnel that constantly covered the couch due to the boredness. It would give you the opportunity to deep clean the flat and the idea wasn’t so bad.

“Is John going too?” Sherlock nodded. You don’t know why you asked, they always worked together.

You turned your head to kiss his palm and sat up to get out of bed. “Okay. I’ll make you breakfast before you guys leave. Nobody likes train food anyway.”

Sherlock moved to help you stand, one of the smiles he reserved just for you gracing his lips. “You take excellent care of me. But you should know, you don’t have to be useful for this to mean something to me.”

He caught you off guard, but he usually did when he read you like a book. Your whole life you’d made yourself useful and you weren’t sure if people liked you for you or for the fact that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them. You would do anything and everything for Sherlock and it didn’t have anything to do with being useful, honestly. You loved him dearly and you couldn’t imagine treating him like you felt anything less than that. You couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Omelettes or pancakes?”

—

Your shirt was soaked from washing the dishes and you smelled like a mixture of bleach and formaldehyde from scrubbing the fridge clean and removing the severed head that took up the space where your coffee creamer should be. You had done more loads of laundry than you could count, bleached the bloodstained tub from Sherlock’s latest pig quest, the entire flat smelled like Bahama breeze and you couldn’t be more content. The boys weren’t due back for a day or two so you figured you’d spend some time with Mrs. Hudson when you were done and see if you could meet up with Bucky and Greg for lunch. When you passed the kitchen on your way to your bedroom to change, you decided that this may be the only chance you ever get to clear off the dining room table. Sherlock’s science equipment had overrun it and you figured it wouldn’t hurt if you straightened it up just a bit.

You were in the midst of cleaning out Sherlock’s beakers when you heard the knock on the door. Figuring that John would have posted on his blog that they weren’t currently taking clients because they were on a case, you expected to see Mrs. Hudson and the mop she was letting you borrow. You cracked the door just enough to see who was on the other side and was surprised to see an older woman holding a plate of baked goods who wasn’t Mrs. Hudson.

“Hi... how can I help you?”

The woman in question’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and you weren’t sure why. She smiled and gestured to the platter in her hands. “Is Sherlock Holmes here?”

She must be a client, you thought. Shaking your head, you responded, “No, sorry! The boys off on a case. I’m a friend of theirs. Is there something I can help you with?”

She was looking past you into the flat and you weren’t sure what she was looking for. “Do you mind if I come in? I could really use a cup of tea. And I wanted to drop these cookies I made for Sherlock off.”

You looked at what she was holding and decided it wouldn’t really hurt to let her in, and the cookies looked amazing. Sherlock must have helped her in some way.

“Sure, come on in. Sorry about my clothes... I’ve been doing some spring cleaning.” You stepped aside and let her in. “So, are you a client of his?”

She went to place the platter on the table and you were excited that it was already worth cleaning off the table. “Not quite. I’ve known him his whole life and have loved him even longer.” She turned and smiled at you, seeing through you in a way that seemed eerily close to Sherlock.

You hummed, taking in her answer. Sherlock didn’t talk much about his friends, so you weren’t surprised that you never heard of her.

“Just a minute, I’m gonna change.”

You excused yourself to the bedroom where your phone was charging on the bed. After sending Sherlock a quick text that someone who wasn’t a client was here for him, you dug around in the closet for something clean and more appropriate.

The lady didn’t really seem like a threat and you were sure if it came down to it, you’d be able to protect yourself. You could chuck the skull on the mantle if need be, it was a hard hitter.

When you returned, she was wandering around the flat and looking at all of the pictures of you, Sherlock, and John that you’d recently framed and put out.

“You and Sherlock, you’re close, yes? Tell me about him. It’s been so long.” She was holding a picture that you took of you two in the back of a taxi. Sherlock was on his phone but you thought his hair looked extra good and the golden hour light made him look like an angel so you had to take the picture.

“Yeah, I mean. He’s a seriously great person. A brilliant detective, he’s so smart. He helps all these people for free, and he never complains if they don’t offer him anything. He hates when I tell him he’s a godsend but who else would do that? Um... he’s really funny, probably one of the funniest people I know. You just have to keep up with his humor. It can be kind of dry, but it’s there. He’s one of the most loyal people there is and he’d do anything for the people he cares about.”

It was so easy for you to speak so highly of him. It was like second nature.

“He can be stubborn sometimes, and he can be a little more blunt than he needs to be but... he’s amazing. There’s no other way to explain him, really. He’s got a light that comes from him that rivals the sun and I don’t think it could ever be dimmed.”

She turned back to you and slowly broke out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen someone wear. “You really love my son.”

“Your son?” You blinked, unsure of what was going on. You really started to look at the woman in front of you and you realized Sherlock had her eyes. A complete copy and paste. “Oh my God, you’re Sherlock’s mom. I never even introduced myself. I’m Y/N, a friend of-”

“You’re not his friend, dear, and I’m not blind. Old age takes a lot from you, but I could never miss the way my son shines. And you... you see it too.” She walked up to you, still holding the picture frame in her hands. “You love my son in a way that no one else has. Let me tell you all about him.”

—

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Sherlock’s mom had brought over tons of scrapbooks and old pictures that she had acquired over the years, and you had a feeling she knew you were here alone before she even knocked on the door. Mycroft, probably. You spent the whole day getting to know each other and taking a stroll down memory lane with her telling you all about Sherlock as a kid and how it was growing up with two geniuses as sons. She even gave you a copy of one of Sherlock’s high school pictures that you were going to cherish forever. She seemed so happy to have someone to talk to and assured you that spending time with you was the closest she had felt to Sherlock in a long time.

You insisted that she stay and let you make dinner, but she was as equally stubborn as Sherlock and ordered you takeaway as her treat. You tried to argue but she was having none of it. “My God, you scrubbed this whole flat clean. I’m not going to let you dirty your dishes. How does Chinese sound?”

—

Sherlock barreled up the steps with all the force he could muster in his legs and rushed in to see you, perfectly fine and all in one piece, having dinner with his mother.

“Sherlock!” You both exclaimed, his mother full of excitement and you full of worry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, standing up from your end of the couch. “I thought you were on a case? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been texting and calling you all day! You’re that daft that you couldn’t text back once all this time?” He’s still out of breath and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His tone is exasperated and you could hear the mix of anxiety and relief in his voice as he’d yet to acknowledge his mother. She seemed perfectly content to sit back and watch the situation unfold, amusement at her son’s unusual outburst gracing her features.

“My phone was dead! And then I put it on the charger and I forgot about it once your mom came, by the way!” You went to the bedroom and retrieved your phone to find a dozen missed texts and calls.

Probably just a client. SH

11:07 AM

Are you sure it’s not a client? SH

11:43 AM

Are they still there? SH

1:00 PM

Missed Call

1:17 PM

Missed Call

2:03 PM

Call me back. SH

3:26 PM

Y/N, I’m on a case. Call me back. SH

3:44 PM

Missed Call

4:13 PM

Is everything alright? SH

4:52 PM

Missed Call

5:08 PM

Missed Call

5:10 PM

Missed Call

5:12 PM

I’m boarding the train now and I’ll be there soon. Don’t worry. SH

5:21 PM

Sherlock followed after you, still without ever acknowledging his mother, and shut the door after himself. With his palms braced against the wooden door, he tried to ease the tension out of his bones through a deep breath as he watched you check your phone. He wasn’t worried about the case at all. It was mostly solved and what little was left John could do with ease. He felt the weight of the missed calls in his stomach like lead and the three hour train ride that he couldn’t curse to defy time any quicker. He had plenty of enemies and you had virtually none, so there would be no reason to think you’d hesitate to assist anyone who came to his door, especially if it was in the name of helping him. He thought he’d walk into a crime scene and he couldn’t shake those images out of his head.

You got up from the bed and walked over to him, reaching to wrap one arm around his neck and to take his hand in yours in the other. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and then to his chin, over his eyelids, his nose, and then lastly you met his lips, murmuring “I’m sorry” in between every kiss. He didn’t usually voice it, but you had known him long enough to know when he was upset. He relaxed into your touch as he always did and you pulled away from him long enough to pull on the ends of his scarf. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Let me help. We got takeaway for your mom and I but we can share mine. I got what you like anyway.”

He let you pull his scarf and jacket off and you were delighted to see he wasn’t really mad with you. You hang his jacket on the closet door and by the time you turn back to face him, he’s already making his way back out to the living room. Following after him, you see his mother gesturing him to come over.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told Mycroft to tell you I was away on business.” He was messing with the cuffs on his sleeves but his question was directed at his mother with unmistakable intent. She tsked at him, and you began to see even more similarities in their mannerisms.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, William. I was spending some time with your darling partner here and I don’t even get a kiss or a hug?” She began gathering her belongings and threw her purse over her shoulder. You weren’t happy to see her go.

You did peak up at the name. “William? Your name is William?”

Sherlock groaned, ignoring you completely. You swore you could see a blush dusting his cheeks. In no time he was at the door, holding it open for his mother. “It’s getting rather late, don’t you agree? Father must be wondering where you are. Be sure to pay Mycroft a visit the next time you’re in town. I assure you, he always has time for family.”

She turned to you and blew you a kiss. “I had a great time with you today, I hope you’ll manage to bring Sherlock home more.”

Walking over to Sherlock, she paused to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “I know you know what you could lose here. So be sure you don’t, Sherlock.”

Before she totally stepped out of the flat, she turned around one last time. “Promise me you’ll come home soon. Your father and I miss you dearly.”

“I heard you the first ten times. Goodnight and safe travels, mother.” Sherlock shut the door before his mother could get another word and your shoulders slumped.

“Hey, that was your mom! She’s really nice. We had a good day.” You started to clean up the coffee table and take the dishes into the kitchen. You couldn’t understand Sherlock’s relationship with his family but you were sure there was a lot of things you didn’t know. Still, it was nice to have a chance to bond with your (maybe one day) future family. It was then that you realized that Sherlock never said anything when his mother mentioned you being his partner. You two never really officially defined what you were, so to see him not object to an actual title made you feel all warm inside.

“No, you had a good day. I was trying to work a case and clear a man’s name while trying to figure out if I’d come home to you kidnapped or dead.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, watching you from the doorway. You looked back at him as you dropped the dishes into the sink and let out a sigh. You hated the fact that you let him down.

“I have to go back tomorrow to tie some loose ends with John. If you come with me, I have a feeling I’ll get over it a lot quicker.” His voice was quiet but full of mirth. He won’t hold this over your head, and you both know this, but if it makes him feel better you’ll follow him. You’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and off the edge if he lead you.

Sherlock pushed himself off of the doorway and walked towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

“So, you’re staying home tonight?” You swung around the  kitchen doorway and called out to the hall. You hadn’t even thought about Sherlock having to go back, and you couldn’t help but be excited that he would be there for you to fall asleep next to tonight. 

“You didn’t expect me to make the trip back at this hour, did you? Besides, I sleep better with you and it’s obvious that I don’t focus well if you’re not around, Which is why I need you to come with me tomorrow. It seems you owe me, anyway.” Sherlock takes a step back so you can see him in the bedroom doorway, and you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s so beautiful, you think, all alabaster skin and lean muscle. He’s pulling a t-shirt over his head and you wonder if you could manifest a photographic memory long enough to commit him to memory. Of course he notices you staring, and you almost want to mention all the times you catch him staring at you but he changes the subject and opens the blankets for you and you shut up and follow him. You follow him and you love him and you wake up in the morning at the crack of dawn to run downstairs and order coffee from the shop next door before your train leaves, being sure to get them to write “William” on the cup. Sherlock doesn’t find this funny at all, but he still lets you fall asleep on his arm on the train ride there and doesn’t complain when his arm falls asleep right along with you.

He thinks that if this is the life his mother wished for him as a child, that would be one thing he could take off of his list of things she eventually needs to answer for. Because mothers know best, and when it came to you, she could have never been more right.

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock imagine #sherlock holmes #sherlock ficlet #sherlock fluff #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock has feelings #sherlock headcanon #luxwrites #sherlock holmes fandom #sherlock holmes fic #benedict cumberbatch x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

[lux-talks-a-lot]

HEY

ya wanna hear a story about 6 teenagers with massive personal issues that get shoved together by a magical destiny powered necklace and then are forced to work together to save the Grim Reaper?

#luxtalks #luxwrites #stories #please say yes #writing #writers #my writing #writers on tumblr #writblr

[luxvitae]

You’re The 1 (4 Me) | Jungkook

⇢ 8.5k 

⇢ Jungkook never dealt in fractions, only in wholes. 

Waking up to your boyfriend already stretching in his yellow duckie pajama bottoms was an obvious indication of one thing and one thing only: today was game day. Being the star quarterback of the university’s team as a junior, Jeon Jungkook was under a great deal of stress for today’s big game.

“I don’t think Mr. Quackers likes being stretched out like that,” you mused, sitting up from the comfort of his bed that you usually found yourself in the night before a game. Something about cuddling you allows him to sleep better and gives him good luck. You think it’s just an excuse to keep you from leaving his dorm at 2 in the morning.

Turning around at the sound of your voice, Jungkook smiled at the image you in the process of waking up, bleary eyed and bushy tailed. The impending game tonight did leave a heavy weight on his chest when we woke up, but he felt it resolve as soon as he saw you with half lidded eyes, staring at him with an equally tired but adoring smile. It was times like this when he momentarily forgot about all his responsibilities and burdens because by god was he blessed to have the most beautiful partner in crime, and that wasn’t the athlete in him talking. But only momentarily because he remembered why you were swaddled in grey sheets and looking at him as if he was about break all ten commandments at the same time by doing one thing: exercising in the morning.

“How are you feeling, champ?,” you asked softly as you see Jungkook lean down to warm up his body with those god awful push ups.

“Don’t jinx it babe,” was all he said through deeply measured breaths as he lifted and lowered himself, arm muscles bulging from under his loose pajama shirt. If there was one thing you loved about sleeping with Jungkook, it was that he didn’t sleep naked to show off like all the other athletes did just to wake up with rock hard nipples from the almost freezing temperatures. Thankfully, your boyfriend was a lot smarter than that, choosing to deck himself out in long pants and fleece lined shirts, serving as a personal heater wrapped around you.

“It’s not considered jinxing if I believe it’s going to happen,” you argued, shuffling to the edge of the bed where you leaned your head down to watch him go at it in the spot right next to you on the floor.

Today was a big deal to both him and the entire university population along with half the state. Somehow, the university’s team had made it through an entire season undefeated which put them at the number two spot in the nation, but you knew part of it was because Jungkook had bulked up over summer and was given the position of starting quarterback. It also meant they were up against what was considered the powerhouse of college football for a division 1 championship title: Penn State.

“You know,” he breathed out, doing one last push up before moving himself over to where your upper half was hanging off the bed, “None of this wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you.”

Oh god. Cue the dramatic music followed by an eye roll. Mornings with Jungkook were just like any other domestic couple, but sometimes, just sometimes, the boy was convinced that his corny jokes and cringe worthy compliments would be appreciated. They were never welcomed.

“Oh Jeon Jungkook. Leave it to you to make a usual morning cheesy and dramatic,” you smiled, a playing smile on his lips as well as you pecked him on the forehead before moving off the bed and into his fuzzy slippers that were about ten sizes too big for you.

“You better not be going to the floor bathroom like you did last time,” he called over his shoulder as you gathered your toiletries in your arms.

Making a show of turning around slowly, you faced the boy with a challenging look and a slight quirk of your eyebrow. You take note of how his arms tensed, muscles straining against the fabric that was usually loose at the sleeves, and his jaw tightened. Man was your boo hot when you worked him up just enough.

“I don’t like,” he seethed, taking wide strides over to where you stood, rooted to your place as your eyes followed his every move, “when my teammates eye out what’s mine,” he all but growled. Once he reached you, standing so close that a sheet of paper couldn’t even fit between the two of you, he took hold of your waist in a gentle grasp, a drastic contrast to his tone of voice which made you shudder. He stood a good eight inches taller than you but that didn’t matter when his forehead leaned down to connect against your own, holding you close to him just to breathe you in.

“Well then that’s your fault for choosing to dorm on an all boys floor,” you whispered playfully, leaning up to capture his lips against your own in a sweet but private kiss, shifting your hands so it rested against his soft but chiseled chest.

“I’m going to my dorm, don’t worry. Meet me in the lobby in an hour?,” you asked, cutely tucking your head under his chin so your ear could clearly hear the steady beat of his heart.

“Hmm depends,” Jungkook mused, an adoring smile playing on his lips as he rocked the two of you back and forth to a nonexistent rhythm, “Will I be promised a good luck breakfast?”

His arms traveled up to rest around your shoulders in a safe and warm embrace, cocking his head to look down at your face. Moving your head to have your chin rest against his chest, he raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes in a playful but questioning expression making you giggle.

“Yeah yeah,” you rolled your eyes, putting some space between the two of you but allowed him to keep his fingers intertwined with yours, “Just go run your eight miles.”

“For you, I’d run eighty miles,” he said, making you groan in how cheesy and cliche he was being. Jungkook just laughed at your exasperation, pulling you into him one last time. You didn’t have to see him to know he was smiling. Landing a kiss at the crown of your head, he sweetly led you to the door of his dorm where he opened it like a gentleman and pushed you through it like an asshole.

“Later loser,” he said with full affection, landing a soft pat to your butt.

“Bye shithead,” you waved, blowing him a kiss as he watched you walk down the hall and up the stairs.

An hour later, true to your words, the two of you were walking out of the building, hand in hand, decked out in full winter coats and layers of jackets. While usual couples would dress up a bit before driving out to have a nice breakfast together on a Saturday morning, you and Jungkook would put coats over your home clothes and walk to the nearest iHop which was conveniently placed right outside of campus.

“How were the guys this morning?,” you asked, swinging your interlocked hands higher and higher with each step.

“They tried to go on my run with me. Half of them dropped out after the first three miles, the other half were only coming in after I already showered,” he laughed, tugging your hand into his coat pocket where three hand warmers were placed so you didn’t somehow dislocate his or your shoulder.

“It’s not their fault you literally sprint your way through eight miles!,” you said, coming to the other boys’ defense because you knew how your boyfriend was. “You get your blitz practice through your morning run. What a man.”

“Shut up,” he smiled, pinching your side with his free arm, making you laugh and dodge his attack. From an outsiders point of view, the two of you seem like the perfect couple, the epitome of college lovers, and yeah, you would agree with them. Y’all were in love as fuck.

Entering the iHop at 7 in the morning was something Darla, the hostess that worked the Saturday morning shift, was accustomed to, her face lighting up as the two of you stepped into the restaurant right on time.

“It’s a big day,” the old woman squealed, leading the two of you to your usual table without even taking menus with her. “I hope you’re getting the Champion’s special. You need to eat like one if you hope to become one.”

“Thanks Darla, but I don’t wanna toot my own horn or anything, especially when Penn state is the best in the nation,” Jungkook said humbly, flustered from all the fuss the old woman was making.

You smiled as he took your hand from across the table like he usually does, weaving his fingers with yours subconsciously while his attention was on Darla.

“Nonsense,” she almost yelled, “This is the first time that damn university had gone undefeated since I graduated from there. And let me tell you honey, that was a long time ago.”

Promising to consider getting the small feast that was the Champion’s special, Darla had wished him luck and gathered you in a small hug of your own before moving away to greet the other guests.

“Hey Kathy,” you smiled at the waitress who also happened to be your lab partner, “We’ll have the usual, but this time, can you add an extra order of scrambled eggs?”

“Sure thing,” the girl said, her sweet southern accent friendly and familiar. As she wished Jungkook good luck tonight as well, your boyfriend breathed a sigh of relief when she was out of earshot.

“What’s up baby bubble?,” you asked, concerned as he looked more tired and worn down than he did this morning, face darker than you felt comfortable.

“It’s just,” he sighed again, eyes focusing on his busy fingers playing with yours, “I don’t want to get their hopes up then let everyone down. I don’t  want to not live up to their expectations.”

You saw the hesitation and fear in his face and you frowned. There was so much he needed to live up to with so little space for error that you could understand where he was coming from. Hell, you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t terrified of messing up. But Jungkook had always been a little self conscious and insecure about his abilities especially because he hadn’t been the star player he was at the beginning. Even through that, everyone knew he was talented enough to deserve every praise, you knew he deserved every title and every award he was given. You just needed him to see why.

“Hey,” you said softly, tilting your head to the side to catch his eyes, “You’re not going to live up to their expectations, you’re gonna exceed them. I believe in you, Tae believes in you, your parents believe in you, the whole university believes in you. But just because they believe in you doesn’t mean they don’t believe in your team as well. You guys are solid and practiced and passionate. You’re not walking out on that field alone, Jeon Jungkook, there are tons of people in the corner with you.”

He took in your words, letting them sink into his brain and ring in his ears as the food starts to come out, one by one. As you were about to pull your hand away from his to start eating, Jungkook tugs it back, slowly lifting it up to kiss your knuckles softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, giving you an award winning smile like you knew he would and finally facing the food with widened eyes.

“Holy shit what the hell did you order?,” he almost yelled, looking at the table almost filled to the edge with plates of food.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you pouted as he pointedly looked at you. “My baby ain’t going out there unfueled, thank you very much. No quarterback boyfriend of mine is going out there without a fully nourished body.”

Staring at you, you just looked at him with an accusing face, not backing down.

“God I love you,” he groaned, making you smile as he picked up his fork and started digging in, not forgetting to cut pieces of pancake to feed you because he was just cheesy like that.

“I wonder if they know how disgustingly cute they are,” Kathy mused, standing next to Darla as the two women looked over at the couple giggling in the corner booth, feeding each other with more and more pieces of pancake to see who could fit more in their mouth.

“I’m sure they know, those assholes,” Darla smiled, wishing the two of them happiness in the innermost thoughts of her conscience.

“I feel like I ate a small whale,” Jungkook whined, your hand back in his as the two of you walked back onto campus, taking a detour back to the dorms so he could fulfill his pregame ritual.

“Well you have an insanely high metabolism so in a few hours that small whale will feel like one leaf from a salad,” you laughed, reaching up to fix his beanie over his dark brown hair, pulling it back down into place and landing a quick peck onto his cheek.

It was only nine in the morning and he didn’t start practice until two in the afternoon so you both decide to walk off your ridiculously large breakfast and took the long way around the campus. It seemed to be freezing out but the both of you knew better because you were out and about after all. Some days were just too cold to even consider stepping outside.

“Are you gonna be sitting with mom and dad again today?,” he asked, looking over at you questioningly. From the start of the season, Jungkook’s parents had started coming to every game to see their son play, and every game, you sat next to them, cheering him on.

“Yeah. Too bad Taehyung has to lead the marching band tonight. He would’ve loved to watch you play,” you sighed. Taehyung was Jungkook’s best friend and also one of the three drum majors of the university’s marching band which worked out well for a while. Jungkook would play and Taehyung would get into the games for free to watch him, but somewhere down the line, Taehyung had gotten good at being the drum major and suddenly, football games were more of him conducting than him watching.

“It’s alright. I saw him this morning, sleeping on the toilet with his score taped to his forehead. Poor guy’s really outdoing himself,” Jungkook said, chucking at the memory of a dazed Taehyung with his eyes barely open behind his thick glasses, walking around while he conducted a nonexistent band.

“It’s been a while since the band had to break out the piece of victory,” you agreed. The university’s marching band had certain pieces that they played for specific occasions, one of those occasions being a won championship title. Like Darla said in the restaurant, it’s been a good forty years since they last broke it out so it’s not a surprise that Taehyung had to learn it from a score and not from ear.

“Let’s hope his efforts don’t go to waste,” Jungkook said, turning the corner to reveal the stadiums entrance area and the big fountain in the middle of the clearing.

One of the many rituals Jungkook took part in before a game was the tossing of a coin into the bucket on the statue. He had some kind of superstition that if he landed the coin in the bucket, which was a good seven feet from the edge of the fountain, on the first toss, then they would have a successful coin toss once the game started. He had explained to you one night how winning the coin toss at the beginning of the game is crucial; it determines if he plays or not and in a way, it determines the advantage of one team over the other. You thought it was silly, but this was Jungkook so you let him be. If it made him feel better, it made you feel better.

While he dug around in his pockets for loose change, you broke away from his hand to walk around the fountain, thinking of all the times you had been here with him in the exact situation, yet you never stopped to fully take in the beauty that was the design of the marble and rock. Being an arts major, you had learned to appreciate beauty from the outside in. Maybe that’s why you fell in love with Jungkook.

Looking over, you ran your eyes over the same body you’ve known for almost three years. You took in his boyish features partially hidden behind a scarf, his tall and muscular build of a seasoned athlete, his dark brown hair that everyone assumed was black but you knew better. The wind was nippy and the temperature was cold, but when you looked at him doing the most mundane thing, he was looking for a coin goddamnit, you felt warm inside.

“Babe come ‘ere,” he waved you over with crinkled eyes and you knew he was smiling behind his scarf. When you reached him, he took your hand, kissed your open palm through your mittens, and replaced his lips with a quarter in the middle of your hand.

“I want you to do it with me,” he said, hope laced with his honey voice. “I want this toss to be done together. You don’t have to shoot for the bucket if you don’t want to it’s just- I want you to do this with me.”

Staring up at his big, bright eyes, you saw what you failed to see in other men: sincerity. Jeon Jungkook never dealt in uncertainties and never did anything half as well as he could have. He only worked in full, the living definition of go big or go home. So no, you couldn’t say no to the man that made your heart do mysterious things, taking the coin and closing your eyes to transfer your wish into the small piece of metal.

I wish for a lifetime of happiness for Jeon Jungkook.

“Ready?,” you hear him ask next to you, his voice just above a whisper even if it were only the two of you here.

Nodding you opened your eyes and focused on the bucket which seemed so far away. For a moment, you considered just tossing it into the basin of the fountain just to save yourself from embarrassment, but you realize just how important this wish is and tell yourself to get it together. Eyeing the large enough opening in the stone, you watch as Jungkook’s coin smoothly goes in, hearing a faint clang of metals. Suddenly, you’re letting go of the coin in an underhand position, holding your breath as you watch the coin’s projectile, hoping that you didn’t screw this up enough that it doesn’t land in the bucket.

Hearing the metal clang made your heart jump into your throat.

“Whoo!,” Jungkook yelled, picking you up by the waist and spinning you around before setting you back down on the ground. His eyes were sparkling under the white reflection of the freshly fallen snow and his lips were curled up in a soft smile making him look like an angel. You felt like you were looking at him for the first time, your heart in a familiar frenzy as you smiled back at him closing your eyes as he pressed a simple kiss to your forehead.

“Just because you made that shot, I’m gonna win the coin toss tonight. All because of you,” he joked, making you groan and laugh at the same time. He held on tight to your waist as you both started back to the dorms.

“Shut up. What’ll happen if you don’t win the coin toss?,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Nothing because that won’t happen because my girlfriend is fucking magic,” he said nonchalantly, shrugging as you softly punched his chest, laughing in embarrassment.

“You’re the very one telling me not to jinx it and there you go,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. Jungkook just smiled and before you knew it, he was lifting you up onto his shoulder and running down the concrete.

“Oh my god! Jeon Jungkook put me down you behemoth!,” you screamed, hitting your boyfriend’s back and kicking your legs as if that would deter him in any way.

“My girlfriend is fucking magic!,” he just yelled making some students who were jogging or just walking around turn to look at the two of you, spinning you around, making you squeal and laugh, empty threats of killing him if he didn’t put you down.

It was times like this that made you understand how lucky you were. This boy, Jeon Jungkook, made a simple day brighter just by being by your side, by laughing and smiling without reservations even when he was plagued by his own stress. As the two of you happily laughed and screamed both at and with each other into the emptiness of a saturday morning, you couldn’t help but hope your wish from the fountain came true because even if it wasn’t with you, your boyfriend deserved the world because he was more than willing to give it to you.

A few more hours past with the two of you just lounging around Jungkook’s dorm, some of the boys coming in and out of the room to ask mundane questions or sneak some of your boyfriend’s protein powder into their juices as if that would help them with anything. Taehyung came in at some point, going off about how he was going to seriously hurt Jungkook if they don’t win tonight because that would mean he spent 28 hours memorizing a 15 minute piece for nothing. But the other ended up staying in the dorm with you two, taking over Jungkook’s spinny chair and rolling around the room, humming an unfamiliar melody.

“What time do you have to be down?,” Taehyung asked Jungkook, looking over at the other boy who was cuddling you on his bed.

“2 hours. Pregame practice was extended. You?,” Jungkook asked back, lazily turning his eyes back to where his laptop was playing the an old episode of the Magicians for you to catch up since you refused to watch any of the newer episodes with him until you were caught up completely.

“2 minutes,” Taehyung laughed, slouching back into his chair, “I don’t wanna play tonight I just wanna watch I mean it’s not every season my best friend annihilates the field.”

“Tell Tommy to take over for once,” Jungkook suggested, pulling you closer to his chest as scenes of Alice as a niffin played loudly from the speakers.

“Tommy’s pretty shit at waving his arms around,” Taehyung sighed, pulling himself up and out of the chair. “Looks like it’s times to frantically search for my uniform that’s probably still wrinkled from the last game. See ya on the field JK.”

Waving the other goodbye, it was back to just you two in the room, allowing you to take his full focus again. In two hours, Jungkook would be out of your arms and on the field, running drill after drill to perfection, but before that, you were gonna get in a good two hours of cuddling because damn was the boy soft when he wanted to be.

“Oh I forgot to give you something,” Jungkook started, shifting in the blankets and hopping off the bed, making you whine from the loss of warmth. “You’ve been wearing my old number for like, the whole season.”

“Yeah because you couldn’t find a jersey with your new number on it,” you confirmed, still focused on the screen in front on you and the blankets he left you swaddled in, “We had that whole argument about it remem- God Julia you fucking bitch! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Laughing into his closet, Jungkook shook his head at the intrusion of you yelling, focusing on finding that small box he hid somewhere in here as soon as it came in the mail so you wouldn’t have the chance to ask what it was.

“Of course I remember. That was by far our stupidest fight and we fought over whether tomatoes should be considered a vegetable,” he mused, turning over some dirty clothes he still needed to wash, rummaging through old shirts old shirts and socks that never found their pair, “I can’t believe you didn’t talked to me for a week.”

While other couples had their own unique pastimes like volunteering at animal shelters or taking care of old people’s groceries, you were proud to say that you and Jungkook’s pastime is nothing as progressive nor useful to society. Instead, the two of you engage in pointless and borderline chaotic arguments that usually end up in kisses and giggles anyway. And yeah, everyone pretty much hates them for it.

Once he found the box still taped and unopened, Jungkook took a deep breath, fighting the urge to pinch himself and check if he was dreaming.

“Here. Open it,” he prodded softly, moving his laptop so he could sit on his desk chair right in front of the bed facing you.

Smiling cautiously, you slowly took the box from him, shaking it first just in case he was trying to pull something on you. When you decided it was harmless, you look over at your boyfriend who was obviously sweating buckets as you cautiously ripped the sealing tape off. Softly grabbing his hand, you frown at him in confusion but offered comfort at the same time. When you opened the flaps of the box, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on the blue, gold, and black dry fit fabric of a jersey you were familiar with. The number that was facing you in black ink, however, was not. Right under Jungkook’s last name was the striking 14 that matched his own jersey on the field.

“How- where did you get this? The university stopped making the jersey’s once season started,” you said breathlessly, picking up the shirt in your hands and out of the box, holding it by the shoulders to see the uniform in its full form.

“I uh,” Jungkook stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he was flustered, “I had it custom made. By the graphics department. Jimin knew a guy so I asked.”

Wearing Jungkook’s number was a big deal to the both of you. Sure, you could’ve been like all the other girlfriends that all sat with each other with their boyfriend’s jersey’s on their backs and aimlessly cheered during the games when their real attention was on Janet and why her and William were in another fight. Honestly, if you tried hard enough, you would’ve fit right in, but his number meant so much more than that to you. To you, wearing his number felt like being next to him on the field guiding and cheering him on and moving and breathing with him.

That’s why not being able to feel that level of comfort and connection for almost the entire season had made you uneasy every time you stepped foot into that stadium, or whatever stadium it was because no matter where the game was, you were there.

“I- oh god,” you choked, feeling the tears well up just enough to mess with your eyesight as Jungkook became a murky mosaic right in front of you, “I- I just-”

Smiling as you blubbered off in incoherent, unfinished sentences, Jungkook crawled onto the bed and resumed his previous position next to you, pulling the blankets over him and pulling you into his chest where the steady beat of his heart seemed to calm you down. Seeing your reaction made him confidence once more knowing he knew what could made you happy. 

“Spit it out baby,” he chuckled, tracing soft circles on your arm and waist in an attempt to make you relax.

“You better fucking win tonight,” you threatened under sniffles and a stuffy nose, hitting him on the chest before wrapping your own arms around him.

“Alright babe, time to go,” Jungkook smiled nervously, one hand holding his helmet, the other around yours as the rest of the team started to get ready for practice with five hours under kickoff.

Rummaging in your bag, you handed him a gatorade like you always do before any practice, because electrolytes save lives, and moved your hand free hand upwards to smooth down some of his chestnut brown hair. As the strands danced between your fingertips, you smiled at the boy in front of you, literally doused in nervous energy. Jittery and excited, but nervous.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you softly scolded, “You better not be getting cold feet on me. What’s up baby boo?”

“It just…Every weekend for the past four months I’ve been under saturday night lights that highlighted my every move, my every mistake. And I don’t know why that didn’t bother me then, but now it’s all I’m thinking about and I-”

Pulling him into a tight hug, you reached up to hook your arms around his neck because you knew your arms wouldn’t fit around the bulky uniform and protective gear he was already wearing. Hearing Jungkook voice his nerves in a panicked tone made you feel like you were back in freshman year, a smaller, leaner Jeon Jungkook struggling to pull himself together for his first college game. It made you smile, even though the memory wasn’t a pleasant one, because he has once again proved to you just how far he’s come, and nothing, not even the nerves, was gonna make him jeopardize this game. Not when he’s come so far.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you cooed, stroking his hair as you felt him tighten his grip around you, “What happened to the big shot quarterback who never let anything or anyone faze him?”

“I don’t know,” he half groaned half whined into your shoulder, making you laugh at his comical distress when you knew you really shouldn’t be.

“Hey. If you ever get nervous or stressed, just remember what I told you this morning. You’re not going out there alone, you’re going out there as part of a team. As the leader of a team that trust you and that you need to trust in return,” you sighed, pulling away so you could cradle his face in your hands. Big, beautiful eyes were boring into yours as you gave him a comforting smile.

“You, Jeon Jungkook,” you whispered, making sure understood every word you said, “You earned that role. You worked just as hard as anyone on this team if not harder and I’m not just saying that because you’re my boyfriend, but because it’s true. So go and give Penn State a run for their money.”

As he just stared at you for a good few moments, you started to wonder if you said the wrong thing. That is, until he takes your cheeks in your hands and lands a deep kiss on your lips, pushing against your lips but bringing your body closer to him in ways that made you feel fuzzy in the head. Like you said, Jungkook wasn’t one to do something in fractions, only in full.

Breaking away from him, he chased after you which made you giggle, placing a hand over his chest to stop him. You felt the eyes on the two of you from his teammates and coaching staff, making your face flush and your cheeks heat up if a way you couldn’t appreciate in the cold winter weather.

“You have drills to run,” you said sheepishly, suddenly shy as Jungkook smiled at you with his hands still caressing your cheeks.

“Cheer for me on the field?,” he asked with soft eyes and a soft tone, making you wonder why his teammates were so intimidated by him when he freely lets these emotions and sides of himself show.

“I’ll be cheering the loudest,” you confirm, letting him kiss a few more times, your smile growing bigger and bigger with every loud smack of his lips on yours. Finally, he pulled away from you, sending you off with a wave of his helmet.

Starting the trek back to your dorm from the training center, you took in a fresh breath of air. This was going to be a peaceful walk back, you were sure of it.

“What are you idiots doing?! Get back inside. Did I say 20 burpees? Good, make it 50. And while you’re at it, go and give Penn State the trophy because you’d much rather loiter around like neanderthals instead of training! Get to practice!”

Oh. That’s why they’re intimidated by him.

“Oh sweetheart! I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve last seen you,” Jungkook’s mother cooed as she walked through the gates of the stadium with Jungkook’s dad in tow. Smiling at the two of them, you greeted them with hugs and quick exchanges of pleasantries before linking arms with both of them and walking into the stadium to take your seats.

“So how’s Junghyun and his wife,” you asked, waiting in line to get into the seating area. The stadium was already half full with students and parents and alumni traveling from everywhere just to watch the big game. Like Darcy said, it’s been a while since this old school had even seen a season this long.

“They’re good. They found a place just north of San Fran so they’re hoping to settle down soon. I hope they’re talking about baby plans but this old man can only hope,” Jungkook’s dad laughed heartily, a laugh that resembled Jungkook’s.

“What I really want to know,” his mom’s voice dropped into something akin to a whisper as she leaned over to you, “Is when are you and Jungkook finally gonna tie the knot, huh?”

“Mom!,” you laughed, pushing the woman with a flustered smile, “We’re still in college. Who knows, maybe Jungkook will dump me for some hot sorority chick next week.”

“Sure hope he has enough brains left in that thick head of his to know that’s not a good idea,” his dad laughed, “I almost made that mistake; would have costed me a lifetime of happiness.”

Softly smiling, you watched as the older couple shared knowing looks before bursting out laughing. When you had first met Jungkook’s parents, you couldn’t help but notice the pure love that still ran through their eyes, something that you had found yourself wanting with Jungkook ten, twenty, hell, fifty years down the line. Strength like that was hard to find between two people now days, but you had hoped it would never waver for them and you hoped that one day, you would know how it feels.

“That crazy old man almost dropped me for a girl he kissed once when he was high. I told him that if he wanted to do that, go ahead, but no one else was going to deal with him through the 13 hours it takes to go back to Korea,” she laughed and you were glad she did. Some people didn’t take to these things well, choosing to push it back into the deeper corners of their mind so it couldn’t hurt them a second time around.

“I was high when I told you that! Of course I wasn’t gonna leave you. Steve was just waiting for me to get out of the picture and hell was I gonna let him get you. He was gonna have to pry you from my cold, dead hands,” the man mused, making his wife smile and lean over to you again, as if telling you a secret that he didn’t already know.

“He’s just saying that because you’re here. He was ready to willingly give me to Steve as if I was gonna let him leave me, psh,” she rolled her eyes, pinching your side knowingly as her husband gave her side eyes.

Laughing, you couldn’t believe your ears as the tea from his parents came pouring out. This happened every time you saw them and every time, you felt like you were growing closer and closer to them. It wasn’t every day that you saw them, you wish it were, but each time was well spent, bonding over things that your own parents wouldn’t even talk to you about. And with this, you felt grateful. Grateful that you met Jungkook on the first day of orientation, grateful that he had introduced you to a whole new world of love, grateful that he had parents who had no problem supporting you as if you were their own daughter.

Showing your VIP passes Jungkook gave you at the beginning of every season, whether it be football or soccer, you were shown the way to the box, which you and his parents promptly ignored, choosing to walk down to the sidelines, sitting as close to the benches as the bleachers would allow you to.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to sit with us, you know. Go ahead and sit with your friends, I feel bad that you have to hang around with two old geezers,” his mom said, patting your knee as the the countdown to kickoff read fifteen minutes.

“Oh nonsense. I don’t have friends don’t worry,” you joked. But in reality, you had never wanted to sit with them anyway. Most of them cheered for Alex or Christian, thinking that Jungkook already had enough fans that they didn’t need to support him, but you knew otherwise which made it unbearable to be around them.

You turned and looked around, taking in the huge stadium that seemed to already be packed with fifteen more minutes on the clock. You had been to approximately 32 football games, yet nothing could prepare you for the overwhelming shock you felt seeing the crowd that came out to watch the playoffs. You could only imagine the pressure of both teams waiting to get out there.

Seeing flashes of metal refractions and sparkly uniforms, you look over to Taehyung leading the enormous marching band down the steps of the bleachers and into the stands that there marked off for them a little above your own seat. With the long blue coat over his white pants and black helmet, you smiled at Taehyung who seemed to be looking for you, knowing you would be somewhere close by. He looked stunning every time he put on that uniform as if it were made for him. Which it was, but that was besides the point.

Time ticked away slowly as you sat back and watched people come and go around you. You heard Taehyung yelling somewhere up there, something about warming up and tuning. The two best friends were intimidating leaders in their own respects. How fitting of both of them. His parents were engaged in a very serious game of pool on their phones which left you to your own devices. You would’ve gotten food, but that breakfast was still sitting with you and concession was probably a mess with only five minutes to kickoff. Your mind quickly drifted to Jungkook and how he was feeling. Tonight was a big night for everyone, but you knew the stakes were high for him especially with the focus on him and his plays.

“Y/n, they’re starting,” his mom nudged you, your eyes flying to the home tunnel where the cheerleaders and athletic staff were already lined up to greet the team. You stood and watched through the presentation of colors and the national anthem before hearing the stadium errupt in cheers and screams as the announcer called upon your university.

Your heart sped up in your chest as you watched the jumbo screen above. You knew you were too far away to see any of the players properly, but Jungkook was the one leading them so at least you would get a quick glimpse of him as they did their team presentation. When the tunnel opened and you saw the 14 right at the entrance, your breath caught in your throat as if it were the first time you saw him on the field. Even from behind his helmet, you could see his distinctive eyes, sharp and focused as he looked on both sides to his team before yelling something incoherent and the boys came charging onto the field in spurts of high energy. The scene was familiar and almost common that you were surprised when you felt your stomach flutter in nerves and excitement feeding off the boys’ energy.

As they started to come back to their bench to let Penn State be announced, you watch Jungkook rip his helmet off revealing his messy brown hair and dark eyes making your tongue go dry and the hot flame subtly ignite in the pit of your stomach. The uniform didn’t help in the least bit, squeezing his thick thighs and tight waist and his jersey riding up just a little bit to where you could see his ab muscles clearly defined from all the workouts and intense training. Lost in your thoughts of checking him out, you were shaken from them when you see him smirk over at you, obviously caught in your staring.

Having no shame, you just rolled your eyes at him, blowing him a kiss from where you were. Being the drama queen he was, he pretends to have been shot, hands flying to his chest and staggering back as his face contorts into one of fake pain.

So you just shot him a middle finger and he sends you a finger heart back, having the audacity to smile at you as if he wasn’t about to go into war over a pig skinned ball.

Three quarters later, you were sitting at the edge of your seat with the rest of the stadium. Jungkook played a little in the first quarter before sitting out the rest of the first half, saving all his energy for the second half when they switched to offense. With five minutes left in the game, the two teams were tied at 27 points each, enough time for another touchdown. Hell, that was enough time for you to walk all the way to your dorm, change pants, and walk back. But that also meant it was enough time for things to go very wrong very quickly. Jungkook had been playing for two quarters straight, never allowing himself to be taken off the field even when his coach told him to switch out with the secondary quarterback.

Jeon Jungkook: a stubborn kid.

As you watched him play by play, you could see how tired he was becoming from playing in the first quarter then for the whole second half. It was concerning, seeing him exert himself in ways you’ve never seen him do, but you knew he was capable of doing so. Jungkook was competitive, anyone could tell that much, but from what you could see, this was more than a competition, it was a challenge. A chance to prove himself to himself. That’s what he was fighting for. Yeah a championship title would be great and all, but what he wanted, what he was really going after, was the belief and confidence in himself.

As his team pushes closer and closer to their endzone and the clock gets uncomfortably close to 0, you see him kick up the intensity a few knots. His yelling of the play is clearer and more intuitive, even the way his body was placed seemed to be tighter but focused. And you realize why. Because this is the playoffs, there can’t be a tie, however, because there is one now, there’s only one solution: overtime. And if the two teams go into overtime, the coin toss is done again and it’s sudden death. And that means Jungkook has a very high chance of not being on that field which is bad. Very bad.

Because Jungkook is their best shot at winning. But he can’t win for them if he’s not on the field.

His mother seemed to have noticed this too, glancing over at you and taking your shaking hand into her own to provide comfort, but it wasn’t working. As he called the play and carried through the snap, you could tell from the get go that this play was going to end badly. There were too many pockets to be a coincidence; no defense was going to leave that many receivers open when they’re crucial right now. And you didn’t understand until you see Jungkook get tackled by three of the biggest players you’ve ever seen. And he didn’t get up.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, panic spiking in your chest as the athletic trainers and the medic on site rushed over to where he lay right on the 15 yard line, unmoving. You watched as they talked in hushed whispers, alternating your focus on him and his coach in front of you to get a grip on the situation. Trying to focus on something, anything that wouldn’t spike your blood sugar, you thought of ways to throw yourself over the connecting boundary to get to him, to tell him it’s okay to stop now and be tired.

He stayed down for what felt like hours but you knew it was only seconds until they were helping him on his feet and guiding him back to the benches where his coach called a timeout. As he was making his way there, he caught your eyes, letting you breath out a long held sigh of relief that he was okay. Then it was right back to panicking because when he smiled at you, you saw the glint in his eyes. The unmistakable glint that made your stomach do summersaults but made your heart hurt because that glint could only mean one thing. That fucker was going to force his way back onto the field.  

Gulping, Jungkook took his spot at the center in what you knew was going to be the last play until the refs called overtime. They could do it, you knew they could. Jungkook had some of the best players in front of him with only 15 more yards from the endzone. Those were very generous odds.

You were chewing on your nail in nervousness, thumbing the edge of the jersey, his jersey. His number felt cold on your back even though you were in a temperature controlled stadium but you found yourself sweating as he called the play and caught the ball from the snap. You saw a pocket right away, Alex being wide open right in the middle of the endzone and as Jungkook was winding up to throw, time seemed to slow down. A defensive tackle did his job and closed the pocket. Your throat closed up as your boyfriend was down to seconds with no other option but to run it. So, in a split second decision, he fakes the pass and doges a linebacker with practiced precision, everyone in the stands, including you, jumping to their feet as he begins weaving his way through and around the players on the field.

3, 2, 2.5, 2.01, 1-

“And Jeon Jungkook completes the touchdown with 0.3 seconds to spare! University of Michigan wins the 2017 NCAA College Football Playoff National Championship!”

The cheers that follow are deafening but they didn’t come unwelcome. You will admit, you were speechless for a couple of seconds until you were overwhelmed with joy and relief, screaming and cheering with his parents. Taehyung runs down beside you and screams as well, exchanging hugs with his second parents and you in unprecedented happiness.

The rest of the team and their coaching staff run towards Jungkook who was already running towards them, the rush of adrenaline kicking in as they all yelled and jumped and celebrated with each other. Seeing the guards walk to the gates of the field, you run there yourself to be the first one let onto the field.

“Where the fuck is he- Jeon Jungkook!,” you yelled, seeing him almost right away from where he was being huddled and surrounded. Turning towards your voice, his smile overtook his face as he met your eyes. You couldn’t help yourself and broke into a sprint towards him, his arms already outstretched, ready to catch you.

And catch you he did. You wrapped your arms around his sweaty neck and he lifted you up, locking your ankles around his waist and his hands under your thighs, and spinning you around him circles as if playing a two and a half hour game didn’t absolutely drain him.

“You did it baby,” you all but yelled, squealing as spun you around even more. Not letting you down, you took both hands away from his neck, trusting him not to let you fall, and went to undo his helmet, removing it to find a face filled with sweat and hair and smiles.

You held his face in your hands as you brushed his sweat-laced hair from his bright eyes feeling as if it were only the two of you in this sea of people.

“I did it because you believed in me,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against your elevated on, “I did it because you always told me I could and tonight I needed to see that for myself.”

You never understood how people could say things without saying them; the theory was just something you couldn’t wrap your head around. But looking at Jungkook with that boyish smile of his that made your heart melt and those eyes that seemed to sparkle with pride and love under the stadium lights, feeling Jungkook all around you in faces of his teammates and the air your were breathing, you seemed to understand how one could say things without saying them. Because once your lips found his, you managed to say one thing and one thing only.

I wish for a lifetime of happiness with you, Jeon Jungkook.

a/n: okay so storytime this literally only took three days to write. All 8.5k which is crazy because I don’t even write that fast for my regular works. The power of quarterback!jeon everyone

-M♡

#don't let this flop yall i really worked hard on this one :) #bcgnet #sfwbangtan #jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jeongguk scenarios #bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts writing #jungkook writing #luxwriting

[ao3feed-goodomens]

A Bright and Blinding Light

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YnUU3s

by luxwrites

It was difficult not to reach out, Aziraphale’s entire presence had warmed the room with such a deep sense of love and belonging, Crowley could almost ignore the crushing weight of Satan’s anger on his windpipe. There had always been an unspoken truth between Crowley and Aziraphale that their friendship went beyond the bounds of convenience. But the angel had never let his love shine quite so brightly.

Meeting Satan at the airfield leaves Crowley with a bad case of the hurts. Aziraphale's not having any of this watching his husband in pain shit, so he does something about it. No graphic hurt stuff (you know what I mean). A bit of a mention of blood, but not really.

Words: 1274, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Crowley hurts but Aziraphale makes all the hurt go away, I'm only here for happy endings, h/c but happy at the end, actually happy for like half of it, Aziraphale is warm

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YnUU3s

#ao3feed #fanfic #Good Omens

[aboutcaseyaffleck]

Casey Affleck predicts “huge upswing” in quality of independent cinema

Oscar-winning US actor and filmmaker Casey Affleck has predicted a “huge upswing” in the quality of independent film in the near future thanks to a new generation of content creators, in a discussion at Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (KVIFF) on Sunday June 30.

Despite noting that “there have been better times” than the past 10 years in the independent sector, Affleck said, “the new wave of filmmakers who are now 18, 19, 20 – those kids are making great stuff, and there’s going to be a huge upswing.”

“We’re going to have movies from around the world looking at different cultures from the inside out, because the process of making movies is totally demystified for everybody” he said.

He compared current innovation in filmmaking to the birth of hip-hop music, saying the latter “was started by people who didn’t know how to play instruments because they didn’t have parents who would buy them and teach them – they just took a record and started literally scratching on it, and made their own music.”

“You’ll see that with movies” he continued. “People are like, ‘I don’t really care about how you think I’m supposed to make a movie, I’m going to use my phone and make whatever movie I want’. And then we’re going to see some great stuff.”

Affleck was attending Karlovy Vary alongside lead actor Anna Pniowsky with Light Of My Life, his sophomore directorial feature which launched in Panorama in Berlin this year.

As well as talking about the future, he also looked back over his career of over 25 years in the independent industry as an actor, writer, director and producer.

He cited working with Andrew Dominik on 2007 title The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford as a key experience, describing Dominik as “one of the great filmmakers” who is “stuck in the current challenges of independent film”, namely that as it gets less expensive to make features, there is a demand for content made at even lower budgets.

After winning the Oscar for best actor for Manchester By The Sea in 2017, Affleck also received the honourary President’s Award from KVIFF that year.

His next project is a role opposite Vanessa Kirby, Katherine Waterston and Jesse Plemons in The World To Come, from The Childhood Of A Leader and Vox Luxwriter Mona Fastvold, which Affleck is also producing. (source)

#casey affleck #Karlovy Vary International Film Festival #news #posted by us

[ao3feed-ineffablehusbandz]

A Seal Over Your Heart

by luxwrites

For three days, Aziraphale had sat on the chaise longue, thinking. He had thought through what had felt like thousands of possible outcomes. He had analyzed every interaction of theirs for the past century, and he felt somewhat of a private investigator. He weighed pros and cons, he made lists in his mind, he even prayed to the Almighty for an answer at one point. The room had been silent throughout these three days, not even a breeze daring to rattle the drainpipe. I can’t tell him, one side of Aziraphale’s brain reasoned. It was true. He couldn’t. He wasn’t ready for this truth to exist outside his mind. The other side of Aziraphale’s brain chanted but I love him over and over and over and over again. ***** Basically, Aziraphale suddenly realizes what he feels for Crowley is love, and has to come to terms with telling Crowley about it.

Words: 2800, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Confessions, Love Confessions, crowley can transform into whatever he wants, one singular bible verse, because i'm a heathen, Happy Ending, Very happy ending, Miss me with that sad shit

source http://archiveofourown.org/works/20105158

#ao3feed ineffablehusbandz #ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anthonyjcrowl

[ao3feed-crowley]

A Seal Over Your Heart

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YJzFN4

by luxwrites

For three days, Aziraphale had sat on the chaise longue, thinking. He had thought through what had felt like thousands of possible outcomes. He had analyzed every interaction of theirs for the past century, and he felt somewhat of a private investigator. He weighed pros and cons, he made lists in his mind, he even prayed to the Almighty for an answer at one point. The room had been silent throughout these three days, not even a breeze daring to rattle the drainpipe. I can’t tell him, one side of Aziraphale’s brain reasoned. It was true. He couldn’t. He wasn’t ready for this truth to exist outside his mind. The other side of Aziraphale’s brain chanted but I love him over and over and over and over again. ***** Basically, Aziraphale suddenly realizes what he feels for Crowley is love, and has to come to terms with telling Crowley about it.

Words: 2800, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Confessions, Love Confessions, crowley can transform into whatever he wants, one singular bible verse, because i'm a heathen, Happy Ending, Very happy ending, Miss me with that sad shit

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YJzFN4

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Crowley

[brickley1x1]

luxwrites replied to your post: francowrites replied to your post: i’m just...

you already got dragged into this brittany ain’t nothin’ that can save you now

i don't like either of you rn

#luxwrites

[luxwritesfanfic]

On Tap

Sherlock insists that it would work better with the reader on top and after the night they’ve had, there’s no point in arguing. Or, the one where reader plays superhero for poor Greg and her beloved detective. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You hadn’t even taken your shoes off when your phone started ringing in your purse. Sighing, you dug around for it with one hand and reached for the lightswitch with the other. Work had been incredibly stressful since you were working short during flu season and everyone in London had been feeling under the weather apparently. You had told your coworkers that if they really needed you that you would come back even though you had put a solid 16 hours in. Sherlock and John had gone out for John’s bachelor party so you didn’t mind working late, and Bucky was visiting his brother in the States so all your time was truly yours. You had thought about soaking in the bath or catching up on that show you always missed, but all of those thoughts were stopped in their tracks when the ringing persisted.

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried not to sound like you’d rather chew on glass than clock one more minute into the hospital but you weren’t sure you were so convincing.

“Come get him. Please, for the love of God, come get him.” At hearing Greg’s voice, you were both relieved yet confused. Sherlock must’ve invited him last minute to celebrate with them, you didn’t remember him saying that he was coming along.

“Oh, I didn’t know you went out with the boys! Where are you guys?” It was nice to know they were all having a good time. You liked Greg and thought he was a really good friend for Sherlock and John. You had plopped down on the couch and had started pulling one of your shoes off when he said, “No, I didn’t go with them. They were brought to me. Someone called the cops on them and now I’ve got tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum arguing about the solar system and taking turns puking in my waste bin. Please, I beg of you, come get him. Matter of fact, I can bring him home. If that makes the process quicker--- I mean easier.” You heard Sherlock trying to take Greg’s phone in the background, asking to talk to you and then quickly after arguing with John once more if it was really that important he knew they orbited the sun. Greg sounded just as exhausted as you felt and you could only imagine how annoyed he was by the drunk detective that he was already annoyed with most of the time sober.

“Yeah, yeah of course I’ll come get him. I’m actually at my flat though, so if you could meet me at his place that would be awesome. I’d just need a few minutes to finish up here...” You mourned the hot bath you were never going to get to take and worked on shoving the shoe you just took off back on, “did you call Mary for John?”

“Yes, she’ll be over soon. As soon as she gets here, I’ll bring Sherlock. You’re doing the Lord’s work, thank you.” With that, he hung up and you went to your room to pack an overnight bag. You were exhausted and if you had to go all the way to Sherlock’s, it would be easier for you to crash on the couch than to try to come back home late.

By the time you got to Sherlock’s, you were dragging your feet up the stairs and you could barely keep your eyes open. You had received a text from Mary when she picked John up saying “good luck” and you wished you knew what you were walking into. You had never seen Sherlock drunk, or heard any stories of him being drunk, but you were sure he was even more eccentric than he was sober. If you weren’t so tired, you’d be jumping with joy at the experience to see Sherlock so out of character. 

You went into Sherlock’s room and laid out some pajamas for him and went ahead and put a water bottle and some Advil on his nightstand because you were sure he would need it. After doing that, you changed into something more comfortable too and rummaged through his fridge to see if there was anything to eat. Thumbs, unsalted butter, and milk that shouldn’t look like blue cheese was what was on the menu and you had decided sleep for dinner sounded much more appetizing. You’d go shopping for him tomorrow.

Greg had texted that he was outside but Sherlock didn’t have his key so you made your way down the steps to meet them. Upon opening the door, Sherlock looked up at you like he hasn’t seen you in ages. He stumbled towards you and held you at arms length with a look of wonder on his face. “Finally! Y/N, I was thinking I’d die from being surrounded by total stupidity, and here you are. Ever the shining light and the beacon of hope.”

You felt the heat from his stare and turned to Greg to try and keep your composure under all his attention. “Uh.. I— thank you. For bringing him home.”

Still staring at Sherlock and shocked by his outburst, Greg met your eyes with a knowing smile. “It’s no trouble. He’s your problem now. Good luck, my dear.” He was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving you with a very drunk Sherlock Holmes and a dozen steps to climb.

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together, turning towards the door, “do you think you can get up the stairs? Or do you want me to help you?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he started until his eyes widened like he forgot who he had been talking to. It had only been a second but he saw the look that flashed across your face. You hated when he made you feel dumb because you always tried so hard to keep up with him, and he knew that. You didn’t have a chance to react before he quickly interrupted. His previous statement was immediately followed by, “I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please help me.”

You just nodded, unsure of what made him have such a quick change of heart but you were happy he did. You hated him thinking you were dumb. In comparison to him, maybe, but you were intelligent in your own right and you did a better job of keeping up with him than most. He threw his arm around your shoulders to steady himself and allowed you to lead him carefully up the stairs. He started telling you about his night and it honestly sounded like he had a great time, and so did John. You were really happy that it all worked out even if they did end up with Greg at the end of it all.

As soon as the back of Sherlock’s legs hit his chair, he was down in a clean swoop and you took the opportunity to start untying his shoes. He seemed like he was lost in thought and was quiet for a few moments but you could tell from the way he was swaying that he was too far gone to sober up before the morning.

“I already put your clothes out for you and I’ll help you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’ll love me for that in the morning.” You smiled at him as you pulled off his loafers and moved to stand up so that you could figure out how you were going to get him out of his chair.

“Will I, though? Will I tomorrow once I’m in my right mind?” He asked, and while he didn’t say it in an ignorant tone, it sounded like Sherlock, and that was close enough.

You looked at him hoping he’d say something else. But he didn’t, and he looked back at you with a look of confusion as if he was really expecting you to answer that. It seemed like just last week he was in your bed trying to convince you that he didn’t have eyes for anyone besides you and now he’s reminding you that he’s not even sure of that. Sherlock could have you at the top of the poll and then have you kissing the ground in the same hour if he tried.

“It’s just a saying. I didn’t really mean...you know, let’s— let’s just get you to bed. It’s late and you have a date with a hangover in the morning.” You could tell he was on the verge of passing out which was good in the way of no more awkward conversations but horrible in that you’d never get him into bed as dead weight. So you pushed things along and eventually got him in bed before he was out like a light.

Draping the blanket over him, you watched as his eyes fluttered behind his lids and how his lips twitched as fell into a deeper sleep and you were sure then that you would never love anyone more. You would never understand how he didn’t realize how beautiful he made the ordinary and how easily he made everything extraordinary. Afraid that you’d turn to stone if you spent any more time staring at him, you turned off his light and made your way to the living room where the the couch had never looked more inviting. It didn’t take you long to get settled in and asleep seeing as the TV in the background ended up being the perfect thing to mask Sherlock’s drunk snores and you had never been more tired in your life.

—

“I thought you were staying over?”

It had only been a few hours since you  had put Sherlock to bed when he found himself looking over you on the couch, wrapped up in his bedsheet.

“M’right here.” You murmured into the pillow, body still turned away from Sherlock on the couch. He was probably still drunk and you were hoping if you laid still enough he’d wander back to bed.

He didn’t respond to you, instead he continued to stand and stare with his lips pursed and brows furrowed. You had drifted back off only to be nudged awake once more.

“I won’t fit like that.” He gestured with the hand not holding the sheet to the couch, sounding exasperated like he had been explaining this to you all night. “It’ll only work if you’re on top, so get up so I can lie down first.”

You didn’t process what he said really, you just knew that if he was being persistent and you didn’t do as he asked he’d never let you go back to bed. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light and swung your legs off the couch, standing on stiff bones. Sherlock immediately made to get comfortable on the couch while you stood dazed and confused and he cleared his throat expectantly when he had finally got settled. He was on his back with one arm holding the sheet up between himself and the back of the couch allowing room for you to climb over and snuggle right into him.

All you could do was blink and hold his stare as he waited expectantly, still holding the sheet for you. You didn’t think he was asking you to lay with him, especially with how close you’d two be. Sure, you shared your bed before, but there was always enough room for you both to have your own space. You could tell he was getting embarrassed by your reaction, or lack there of.

“I didn’t think this would be rocket science, even for someone like you.” His nervousness was showing as he yanked his arm back down and curled into to himself like a child. You jumped into action so you wouldn’t upset him any more and shook his shoulder as you whined, partially from exhaustion and from missing the chance to sleep next to him.

“I’m tired, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize what you were asking. Come on, open up. Let me in.” You continued to shake at his shoulder until he looked back at you. He looked wrecked from drinking all night and you knew this bout of sobriety wouldn’t be as easy on him in the morning but you were sure he looked holy.

Sherlock reluctantly brought his arm up again and you wasted no time sliding under the sheet and tucking yourself under the crook of his arm. He smelled like beer and mouthwash and Sherlock and you thought you were going to go into cardiac arrest when he brought his arm back down on you, subsequently pinning you down to him. It was definitely a tight fit especially since the couch barely fit Sherlock but you had decided that if you had the opportunity to sleep with him like this every night that you would. Back pain be damned.

The steadiness of his heartbeat was already working you back to sleep. Sighing content, you let your body fully relax and sink further into him.

“You never answered my question.” He shifted next to you and kept you close to him all the same, his head leaning to rest on yours.

“Hmm?” You made an incoherent sound, your breath evening out as you fell asleep.

“My question,” he whispered more so to himself as he worked it out in his head. The feelings he found himself harboring for you were ones he had never felt before. He thought  so highly of you in a way he couldn’t understand even if he wasn’t the best at expressing it. You were patient with him when he got on your last nerve and was amazed by him when other people would tell him to piss off. You were always kind and warm and made him feel human even after he spent so long separating himself from his feelings. He couldn’t stand the idea of you looking at anyone else the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

So yes, he thought. Yes, he would love you in the morning. He’d love you when you’re angry with him for putting himself at risk during a case and he’d love you when you were overly tired and petulant after he made you stay up all night to keep him company in the lab. He loved that you valued him regardless of what he offered you, and that you always showed him that even if he never reciprocated it. You were never embarrassed by him, you always tried to learn about what he was interested in, and you never doubted him even when he was wrong.

Girlfriends weren’t naturally his area... but he didn’t think he would mind if it was you. He liked being close to you and physical touch wasn’t something he had sought out often before. He found that he chased the opportunity to be near you at all times. He thought you looked lovely in scrubs and a lab coat and even lovelier in your everyday wear, even if you considered it plain. He had begun to notice the way other people stared at you when you walked by and it left him with the most unsettling feeling. But then you’d smile at him and despite himself he’d smile right back and he wondered if anything in the world mattered to you besides him. Because in those moments, nothing mattered to him besides you.

Sherlock woke up alone again the next morning with the worst headache he’d ever had. Light was shining through the curtains and he cursed the sun for rising another day as he covered his eyes and groaned. Peaking through his fingers, he saw that the Advil and water had been moved to the coffee table for him and when he reached out for it he noticed the note on the table. He sat up with one hand gingerly holding his head as he read it.

“Got called into work to help the girls. John and Mary are coming over for lunch, so text me what you want me to bring home. We can’t serve our best friends buttered thumbs for lunch. I’ll see you soon!

  -Y/N xx”

He held the note in his hand, contemplating what his next move would be. You were interested in him, that he knew for sure. He’d contemplated casually mentioning to everyone that you were dating, but he technically hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend and you two had never talked about any mutual feelings. Maybe he’d kiss you when walking you to your taxi, but he knew he’d make you stay with him instead of letting you go home. Possibly tonight when you were laying in his bed he’d tell you it had to be you, it could only ever be you.

Leaning back against the couch, he rubbed at his eyes and decided he’d call John over early and he’d help him sort it out. John always helped him. Standing up was harder than it looked apparently, as Sherlock wobbled to the side and fought the urge to puke. Perhaps he should shower first, surely you wouldn’t say yes to being his if he didn’t look his best.

He remembered how he looked and acted last night and winced. On second thought, maybe you would. You had already given yourself to him for better or for worse and soon enough, he smiled, he would give you himself in return.

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock x you #greg lestrade #reader insert #benedict cumberbatch x reader #sherlock imagine #sherlock fluff #sherlock ficlet #bbc sherlock fic #luxwrites #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock has feelings #fanfic #fluff #fandom

[luxvitae]

Your Everything | Taehyung

⇢1.8k

⇢His mind, body, and soul. These were the things you loved about Kim Taehyung

happy birthday to the light of my life

⋙Mind

Art usually came easy to you. You never had a problem with creativity before, you always had a lot of it. That is until artist block had hit you like a freight train and you were stuck on your senior project with a paintbrush full of purple ink and a blank canvas. 

“Hey you,” a deep and familiar voice sounded as the door of the studio opened to reveal Kim Taehyung, resident man child who doubles as your best friend and boyfriend. 

“Hey,” you strained, smiling tiredly as you watch him walk over to you and drop a short kiss on top of your head. 

Looking at the blank canvas in front of you, Taehyung makes a face of confused pride. “It’s looking…..good babe. I think you missed a spot though.” 

“Oh shut up,” you groaned, leaning back on your stool so you were leaning on his stomach. “I have lost all motivation. And my creative river has run dry. I’m washed up at 23.” 

Shifting his body around so he stood next to you, he moved your head so it was leaning against his side instead while he rubbed your back and played with your hair in reassuring and and firm touches. 

“What’s the prompt?,” he asked, tilting his head to the side to look down at you. 

“Childlike wonder,” you said, the two words burning holes in your brain from all the times you stared at the stupid slip of paper that was causing your demise. 

Taehyung thought for a little bit before pulling up a stool for himself so he sat next to you, hip to hip. “Don’t you ever wonder why people sleep with their eyes closed? Or ever get fascinated not by the first birthday candle, but the second one? What about how peanut butter and applesauce are liquid forms of something solid? Or why there isn’t a grape flavored gummy bear?,” Taehyung rattled off, looking back at you and smiling his beautiful, full smile. 

“Childlike wonder isn’t childlike at all,” he said slowly, bringing the paintbrush in your hand up with his own, “It’s the unbothered curiosity not tainted by age.” 

“So let go,” he whispered, drawing his hand back from your own, leaving the paintbrush of purple to rest suspended in the air. “You’re not washed up at 23 love, you’ve just forgotten what it’s like being untroubled by the hurdles of adulthood.” 

Pecking your forehead once more, Taehyung left you to simmer in your own thoughts in the empty space of the art studio. It wasn’t until a week later, after your finished your piece, that you realize the way Taehyung thought, the way he navigated through the neurons in the brain to create abstract ideas and impressions, was what inspired your piece to come alive. 

Taehyung and his beautiful mind.

⋙Body 

“T-Tae I d..don’t,” you gasped against his intrusive lips and the harsh grind of his hips against yours.

“Shh baby,” he whispered against your neck, lips traveling further and further down until he was nipping at your collarbones, pulling your shirt down in the slightest, dropping wet kisses all over your chest. “You’re safe with me. I promise.”

Picking you up in his arms, your arms come up to lock around his neck instinctively. Playing with his hair at his nape, you pulled at the strands hotly so his lips detached from your skin and his head lolled backwards.

“I trust you,” you whispered as your foreheads leaned against each other’s before smashing your lips against his again. This time wasn’t like any other kiss; it wasn’t innocent or playful or sweet. It was harsh and needy, but meaningful all the same.

“Should I fuck you against the wall or the sheets?,”his husky voice asked, a sense of teasing in his tone so you just rolled your eyes.

“Why don’t you worry about fucking me in general first,” you played along, voice sultry against his harsh tone as one hand traveled down his chest in a slow, feather like touch.

“Oh baby,” he growled, pushing off the wall and navigating his way around the apartment without taking his eyes off of you, “I don’t need to worry about that.”

Once he reached the bedroom, your mind went blank as he softly laid you on the sheets, a totally different demeanor from what he showed you in the living room. Supporting his weight on his hands with his legs between yours, the kisses turned slow and steady, hands exploring the expanse of your still clothed body. As he started to roll your shirt up to reveal your stomach, you expertly flipped the two of you over before straddling his hips.

“Y/n-”

“Shh baby,” you quoted from him, “Let me take care of you first.”

With that, you shimmy your way down, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, kissing the new skin being exposed after each button. Taehyung was always rushing to please you first, but not today.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear before kissing down his neck to his stomach.

“I love your stomach that clenches in laughter when I tell a joke that no one else thought was funny but you,” you said, kissing around his belly before going back up to his arms. As you journeyed around his body, Taehyung’s eyes never left your face, eyes getting darker and darker.

“I love your strong arms that hold me in times of distress and in times of joy, the arms that never let me go even if I say I want you to. I love your hands that hold mine, guiding me in all the right directions with you,” you said, slipping his fingers into your mouth so you could suck on them causing Taehyung to groan under you.

Popping them out, you ventured down, undoing his belt buckle and his pants for you to be face to face with his growing bulge. You begin to rub at it, causing friction from the scratchy fabric of his boxers, feeling his dick harden under your touch with every second going by.

“I love your legs that support you because they allow you to support me as well,” you continued even past his whining and moaning, putting his hands over yours to make sure you didn’t stop.

“I love you feet that walk next to mine,” you breathe out before Taehyung is flipping the both of you again, and this time you didn’t mind. He hurriedly gets rid of your shirt and shorts along with his jeans and underwear. “Because we’re in this together.”

“I love your back,” you gasp as he goes down on you, licking you through your underwear, causing your hands to fly to his hair, pushing and pulling at the strands. “I l-love your back because it has never t-turned, oh god, it’s never turned on me.”

Before you knew it, all three of his fingers that you sucked on were pushing into you, making your head fall back in ecstasy, moaning out in pleasure. But you weren’t done yet.

“I-I love your chest,” you managed to say as Taehyung came back up to drop a kiss to your lips.

“What about it baby?,” he asked, lining up his cock with your entrance before pushing in, slowly, then all at once.

“Oh god Taehyung,” you moaned out, arching your back from how good the stretch felt and how well he filled you up.

“What about my chest baby?,” he prodded at you, allowing for you to get a grip on your thoughts until he started to shallowly pulse against you.

“I love your chest,” you breathed, hands going against the muscle to feel his rapid pulse against your fingertips, “Because it holds your heart. And that heart allowed you to love me.”

⋙Soul

You start to think you saw it at the puppy shelter you and Taehyung volunteered at last month. Then, again, you think you saw it in the way he looked at the fans during the fan signs, cheering them on and giving them words of advice. But you definitely saw it when you visited his hometown with him.

“Eonjin! Jeonggyu!,” he screamed in excitement as he walked through the doors to see his little siblings already waiting there for him.

The two of them tackled him to the ground, you found a smile already on your lips from the laughter ripping through the small but cozy home, brightening the already lit walls. You watched as your boyfriend ruffled their hair and picked both of them up, carrying them into the kitchen where his mom and dad were still in the process of cooking.

“Taehyung!,” his mom said in surprise, dropping the plate she was holding up and wiping her hands on her apron to gather her son in her arms for the first time in a while.

“Hey mom,” he smiled, eyes watering just a little bit, but not enough to fall. After greeting everyone including his dad and little cousins, he grabs your hand and pulls you forward, introducing you and showing you off to everyone that gathered to see him come home.

“Uncle Tae, did you bring us anything like last time?,” a little girl that you remember as Taehyung’s niece asks, cheeks ablaze from how candid she realized her question was out loud.

“As a matter of fact,” he said thoughtfully before picking up the little girl and swinging her around, her high pitched laughter bouncing off the walls, “I did.”

Asking you to come with him, you follow him to the car trunk to reveal two big bags full of little gifts and trinkets. Leave it to Kim Taehyung to spend his money on everyone else.

“Love, aren’t you tired?,” you asked softly, taking on bag into your arms. You were convinced your boyfriend was an angel as he got off a 15 hour flight from Chicago to Korea, went straight to his dorm to pack, drove to pick you up, then embarked on a two hour drive to Daegu (which he refused to let you behind the wheel), then entertained his siblings, helped his parents in the kitchen, and still had enough energy to entertain everyone else.

“Yeah. Exhausted actually,” he laughed, “But these people, my family, I haven’t seen them in what’s felt like forever. I don’t wanna miss a single second of my time with them.”

You first witnessed it when the two of you went to an outreach program in June, the way his eyes would soften around the edges and his smiles came more naturally. You thought you were sure when he attended his first actual college lecture after all those years of online schooling, the excited demeanor to learn. But you weren’t sure. It was only until this moment, right now, as he set down the bags in the middle of the room and cheered along with the little kids while acting like Santa and calling out their names to give them their gifts, were you sure that you’ve seen it. Understood it, even.

Kim Taehyung and his beautiful soul.

In light of my love’s birthday, I did a thing :) 

-M♡

#bcgnet #kimtaenet #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung day #happy birthday my love #v scenarios #v imagine #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts #bangtan #luxwriting

[ao3feed-goodomens]

A Seal Over Your Heart

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YJzFN4

by luxwrites

For three days, Aziraphale had sat on the chaise longue, thinking. He had thought through what had felt like thousands of possible outcomes. He had analyzed every interaction of theirs for the past century, and he felt somewhat of a private investigator. He weighed pros and cons, he made lists in his mind, he even prayed to the Almighty for an answer at one point. The room had been silent throughout these three days, not even a breeze daring to rattle the drainpipe. I can’t tell him, one side of Aziraphale’s brain reasoned. It was true. He couldn’t. He wasn’t ready for this truth to exist outside his mind. The other side of Aziraphale’s brain chanted but I love him over and over and over and over again. ***** Basically, Aziraphale suddenly realizes what he feels for Crowley is love, and has to come to terms with telling Crowley about it.

Words: 2800, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Confessions, Love Confessions, crowley can transform into whatever he wants, one singular bible verse, because i'm a heathen, Happy Ending, Very happy ending, Miss me with that sad shit

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YJzFN4

#ao3feed #fanfic #Good Omens

[katefullerrps]

luxwrites replied to your post: luxwrites replied to your post: there’s a guy that...

gOD WHY HALFWAY ACROSS THE WOLRD

i didn't tell him to live here

#luxwrites

[ao3feed-ineffablehusbandz]

A Bright and Blinding Light

by luxwrites

It was difficult not to reach out, Aziraphale’s entire presence had warmed the room with such a deep sense of love and belonging, Crowley could almost ignore the crushing weight of Satan’s anger on his windpipe. There had always been an unspoken truth between Crowley and Aziraphale that their friendship went beyond the bounds of convenience. But the angel had never let his love shine quite so brightly.

Meeting Satan at the airfield leaves Crowley with a bad case of the hurts. Aziraphale's not having any of this watching his husband in pain shit, so he does something about it. No graphic hurt stuff (you know what I mean). A bit of a mention of blood, but not really.

Words: 1274, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Crowley hurts but Aziraphale makes all the hurt go away, I'm only here for happy endings, h/c but happy at the end, actually happy for like half of it, Aziraphale is warm

source http://archiveofourown.org/works/19416931

#ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anthonyjcrowley #goodomens #ineffablehusbands

[ao3feed-crowley]

A Bright and Blinding Light

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YnUU3s

by luxwrites

It was difficult not to reach out, Aziraphale’s entire presence had warmed the room with such a deep sense of love and belonging, Crowley could almost ignore the crushing weight of Satan’s anger on his windpipe. There had always been an unspoken truth between Crowley and Aziraphale that their friendship went beyond the bounds of convenience. But the angel had never let his love shine quite so brightly.

Meeting Satan at the airfield leaves Crowley with a bad case of the hurts. Aziraphale's not having any of this watching his husband in pain shit, so he does something about it. No graphic hurt stuff (you know what I mean). A bit of a mention of blood, but not really.

Words: 1274, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Crowley hurts but Aziraphale makes all the hurt go away, I'm only here for happy endings, no sadness here, at least no sadness for long haha, idk - Freeform, it's 1am I should be asleep, I haven't written in forever, I'll edit tomorrow don't judge my grammar

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2YnUU3s

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Crowley

[fantasieswriter]

luxwrites replied to your post: I’m promising my brother sweets for going with me...

Omg, where do you go to school because I would honestly love to just be able to turn in my work and not have to sit through an actual lecture. Also, hi. I’m Lux and we have never officially spoken but I thought I’d take the opportunity.

I go to school in Alabama~ Yeah, my teacher's really awesome and she said that as long as we turn our work in and let her know that we've got emergencies she'll let us go. I just need to turn my work in because we have a week to turn it in. For every day that it's late she'll deduct 10%, but only for the week, so when it ends then we can't turn it in. Plus there's a nice syllabus that she gave us so I know the lessons and homework before the day of the class~ Hi Lux! I'm Kyla and I'm happy to meet you :) A little about myself: I enjoy watching YouTubers game and make funny comedy videos (doing that right now)

#luxwrites #that's a lot of writing