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aamalaaa · 2 years

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cold days/warm embraces

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: established relationship au, comfort, fluff, romance, oc has a cold and hobi takes care of them

warnings: well, oc is sick and dramatic

word count: 1.5k

a/n: ok so I’ve been very very sick these past few days and imagined the million ways Hobi would take care of his partner if they we’re sick, enjoy this fever induced drabble kekeke

This fucking sucks.

You’re lying in bed in a fetal position, hair in a tousled bun that’s barely hanging on while you clutch the soft satin covers in your tiny feeble hands.

You’ve been here for two days, barely managing to get out of bed to shower and brush your teeth. They said the cold season was harsh this year, they were right. If you were a little skeptical before, well you’re not anymore.

You feel like the pressure in your sinuses is so intense your head might explode at any moment.

But that’s not the worst. No, oh no.

The worst is the fact that you cannot. Stop. Sniffling.

So you lay in bed, whining and moaning about life and the harsh reality you find yourself in, sniffling harshly as you let a few drops of salty water slip past your tear ducts.

You may be a tad bit dramatic. You’re allowed to, this fucking sucks.

You throw another tissue in the garbage bin and lament weakly as you do so, bringing the covers up to your ears in a barely logical attempt to hide from the world.

That’s when you hear the front door open, the familiar creaking sound bringing you instant comfort.

“Kitten?”

You can make out the sound of a bag hitting the hardwood floor and the shuffling of winter clothes.

You reply with a quite frankly pitiful moan, that’s really the best you can do considering your current state.

There’s footsteps coming closer to the bedroom and you curl onto yourself even more, peeking out of the warm covers to glance at your boyfriend.

“Oh baby,” He coos, dropping onto the bed and sliding under the covers. He brings you flush against his chest and drops a soft peck onto your head of messy hair.

“Hobi,” You whine feebly.

He squeezes your delicate frame. “You’re not feeling any better than this morning are you?”

You pleadingly look into his dark brown orbs.

“No-“ You break out into a tiny cough.

He shushes you. “My poor kitten,” Another kiss is laid upon your head. “Don’t try to talk ok?”

You nod, curling into his loving embrace. It’s warm and comforting, just like him.

“Did you eat today? Have you showered?”

You shake your head no, intent on following his advice. You don’t need another fit of cough, you’re not sure your poor head could handle it.

“Can you get up and shower for me baby? You’ll feel better. I’ll make soup for you, your favorite.”

You clutch the front of his shirt, you don’t want to get out of his strong embrace. It’s bearable like this, as long as you’re in the hold of the strongest arms in the whole world.

But reality kicks in and your nose starts dripping against Hoseok’s shirt, much to your horror.

You push against his chest to the best of your abilities which earns you a cock of his eyebrows.

“Tissues,”

Hoseok breaks out into a fit of laughter and gives you a tissue while you glare menacingly at him.

Well you try to, because damn if that laugh isn’t the most beautiful sound in the entire world. Even your favorite songs cannot begin to compare to the melodious yet unhinged sound.

You dump the used material in the bin and turn towards your lover again, making grabby hands as you look into his laugh-crinkled eyes.

Hoseok coos softly before enveloping you once again in his tender embrace and you settle there.

It feels like a warm summer day, when you’ve stayed in the sun for hours and your skin feels hot and pliant. You can almost smell the warm air and coconut sunscreen if you close your eyes and inhale deeply.

But you can’t inhale deeply because your nose is stuffed and you let out a plaintive whine.

“Kitten..” Hoseok presses his tender lips on your rosy cheek. “Can you get up?”

“Maybe,” You croak out.

He caresses your tousled hair with his long slender fingers. “I’ll help you.”

And that’s how you find yourself in the shower for at least half an hour if not more, sitting on a little built-in bench as warm water soothingly trickles down your body. Your nose even manages to clear for a few minutes, and god, you really took inhaling through both nostrils for granted.

Never again.

You leisurely get out and Hoseok enters the bathroom with a fond smile on his face as he hears the sound of water stop.

You make to grab a towel but a dainty hand stops you halfway there.

“Let me,”

Your boyfriend thoroughly but gently dries you off, and you can’t help but blush. Yes, he’s seen you naked more times than you can count, and yes he’s seen you worse off, even held your hair a few times as you threw up after nights out.

This feels different though.

You don’t mind one bit.

He dries the excess water from your hair with a towel and wraps a soft cotton robe around you, helping you with both sleeves and tying it around your waist.

Then, he delicately brushes your hair, making sure not to hurt you in the process, and proceeds to blow dry it carefully, tickling you here and there as he does so to distract you.

And it works, you try to wriggle out of his embrace but he continues his merciless attack, dropping kisses on each side of your neck as he tickles your weakest spots.

You know the perfect remedy to a cold now, it's Jung Hoseok.

“Thank you..” Your voice comes out as a hoarse squeak.

The smile you get is absolutely blinding, so much so that you fear losing balance and tumbling down on the floor considering your weakened state. But the strong arm around your waist steadies you and you take a few tentative steps all the way up to your bedroom, Hoseok not leaving your side, not even for a second.

You notice that the bed is clean and made when you throw the covers aside to slip in. And when you do, the fresh smell of clean sheets embraces you in a comforting wave of jasmine and lavender haze.

You cocoon yourself and inhale as much as you can, almost purring at the sensations enveloping your senses.

You try to protest when Hoseok leaves the room but are soon filled with love and tenderness when he comes back just as quickly with a hot bowl of soup that he drops on the nightstand closest to your still form.

He pats your now clean locks tenderly before sitting on the bed and bringing you up in a sitting position, your back against his firm chest. “Try to eat a little bit please,” He murmurs soothingly.

And how could you say no to that.

Also, since you’re out of your lethargic daze, you do feel quite a bit hungry.

So you slurp loudly on the homemade soup, basking in the feeling of warmth engulfing you as you do so. And Hoseok keeps caressing your hair in a soft manner, watching you eat without saying a word.

Even though you’re sick and very dramatic about it, you feel so fucking grateful. So grateful to have such a kind and caring soul with whom you share a life with. The most honest and beautiful man, who takes care of you when you’re sick or tired without complaining, not even once. Who changes the sheets and prepares you soup while you whine and moan about having to take a shower

Hoseok gently takes the bowl from your hand and places it nearby while you slump down against him, satiated and very sleepy.

Your next words are slurred and barely audible. “I don’t deserve you, thank you..”

Hoseoke chuckles fondly and shuffles the both of you so you lay down on the bed, his front still pressed against you in a perfect spoon-like embrace.

“I don’t deserve you, you little baby.”

You nuzzle his wrist and quietly purr. You haven’t felt this content since you woke up this morning.

“Nu-uh, I don’t.” You weakly protest.

You can almost feel your boyfriend rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

“Do you really wanna argue about this now?” He giggles quietly.

You ponder on it a bit, a pout slowly forming on your red slightly chapped lips. “No, I’m tired..”

You feel the soft press of lips against the back of your head and wiggle further into Hoseok’s warm embrace.

“Do you want to sleep?” He murmurs against you.

Your pout deepens.

“Do I really have to?”

Another fit of carillon-like chortles.

“You do baby.”

“Ok then.” You sigh dramatically. “But stay here, please?”

Hoseok nuzzles closer before whispering tenderly,

“Of course, big baby. I took tomorrow off too. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You slap his arm. “Who ‘you calling a big baby?”

“You, big baby,” He teases before swinging his leg above you and hooking it around your own pair of legs.

You huff out in feigned annoyance but still lay a delicate kiss on his inner wrist. “Big baby wants to sleep now.”

“Good, then sleep Kitten.”

a/n: here’s the link for my general taglist<3

gen taglist: @bwormie @fragmentof-indifference

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roseverdict · 1 year

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whose idea was it for headphone cords that use usb-c to connect to your phone to not be in an active state all the time???

"oh but rosie it's a headphone cord there's no 'active state-'" MAYBE NOT BUT I'M TIRED AND I'M HAVING TROUBLE ARTICULATING EXACTLY WHAT'S GOING ON. I AM AWARE IT'S PROBABLY ON MY PHONE'S END AND NOT THE FAULT OF THE CORD ITSELF.

BUT LIKE.

okay

so there's a song i like to listen to. it starts from a very simple "one short note at a time spaced out so there's dead silence between notes" to a fully-fledged tune with rhythm and harmonies and shit

the synth being used for the intro has very sharp hits. it does not fade in whatsoever.

so tell me why, pray tell, THE INTRO IS PERMANENTLY SCREWED OVER JUST BY VIRTUE OF BEING ON MY PHONE.

can't listen to it without headphones bc it sounds like hot garbage and i can't concentrate on ANY sound unless it's the ONLY sound and i live in a household of 6.

can't listen to it with BLUETOOTH headphones bc the bluetooth connection will "save battery" whenever it's not Currently Playing Audio which results in a delay whenever a note does play and it has to go "oh right music is playing!"

can't listen to it with WIRED headphones because there's no fucking headphone jack and the usb-c jack is doing the Exact Same Thing As Bluetooth Headphones.

please,,,,,,,,,,,please i just want headphone jacks back

#rosie rambles #it's the song 'corrupted' that gets used in jsab if anyone was curious

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cjlothecastle · 3 months

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let me in

its febuary, but not the good part (pisces season). we are deep in the trenches of airhead aquarius (no hate but, y'all). two-parter show live on the 8th and the 16th, i am desperately trying to find an apartment it's the only thing i can thinktalkdream about. landlords suck, and brokers discriminate. this picture is from an apartment i was able to visit. what do u think that weird hole / windowsill leads too? basement access i hope.

full episode here ;;;; full playlist here

gold lion - yeah yeah yeahs gold soundz - safeword oh no! - physical congas xxx hungry baby - kim gordon the pest - washing machine loser at best - wallice good guy - crossed wires bring back my dog - this is lorelei steamroller - feeble little horse xxx SNAIL’S PACE - frost children great DJ - the ting tings gone (clarence clarity remix) - charli xcx, christine and the queens xxxxxxxxxxxx Seether - veruca salt He wasn’t - avril lavigne Loser dust - hole xxx Daddy - baby bulldog Lift off - paris texas Hall & oates - idles Look at my phone - hot garbage Dream death - feeling figures Ripped sheet - motherhood Backyard - leggy Freak - feeble little horse Confusion wants - physical congas Birthday blues - grrrl gang HFCS - PACKS Cat calls - ghost vines Xxx All my exes live in vortexes - rosie tucker Reign - thy slaughter LOSER - frost children Eat you like a pill - cherry glazerr

#community radio #montreal #queer #college radio #live radio #radio #campus radio #canadian music #concordia #charli xcx #transgender

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oreo-hong · 2 years

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we stay like this for a little before i hear his sniffles grow, my hair getting a little wet. “m-minho,” i frown, looking up at him. “p-please don’t cry,” i whisper, gentle hands coming up to cup his face, thumbs brushing against his rosy cheeks to try and wipe the hot tears away. “shh, it’s okay, angel, just try and take deep breaths for me,” i whisper. 🪐

“i.. it’s not okay, i- i just want to apologize and have you back- a- at least as a friend and everyone avoids me like i’m waking garbage..” he sniffles, shaking his head as he sinks to his knees and presses his face against your tummy gently

#🪐 anon #tattoo artist!hyunminsung

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narcissisticmf · 3 years

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i love you | bucky barnes x fem!reader

description: while y/n is in a coma, bucky reveals his feelings to her.

trigger warnings: mentions of trauma, mentions of anxiety, angst, depictions of minor injuries, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 1.4k

With your back laid against the small cot inside the Avengers Compound infirmary, your eyelids closed over the warm color of your irises. Your bruised palms rested against the mattress down at your sides. Your body ached, but you couldn't move or do anything to physically ease that pain. Along the sides of your face were scars, dried blood and several bruises that stung your sensitive skin. Your chest rose and fell in response to your breath. You eased into the mattress, unable to wake for your body was paralyzed but your mind was wide awake.

Weeks had passed as you laid in the same position with several patches attached to your arms and chest. Dr. Cho did all she could to assist you in getting better, but there was only so much she could do medically. Time would be the only thing of which would awaken you.

Bucky sat in the kitchen of the Compound and fiddled with his spoon as it sat within a bowl of soggy cereal. His long hair matted against his sweaty forehead. He hadn't gotten much sleep, the bags beneath his eyes revealed that.

"You okay, Buck?" Steve walked into the kitchen through the living room. His pupils dilated as he watched Bucky sit with grief and anxiety flooding through his veins.

"I could've done something, Steve. She's in that room, practically lifeless because I did nothing to stop it," Bucky avoided eye contact with his best friend and looked down at his bowl, watching as the Cheerios expanded and lost their crunchy texture due to the milk.

"But that's just it, there wasn't anything you could've done," Steve walked closer to the table and sat upon one of the chairs that surrounded the large table.

"I could've taken the blow, it should be me in there, not her," Bucky's eyes grew teary as the words got caught in his throat. His tone was shaky.

"Well, if it was you in there, she'd be having the same conversation with me right now, I can tell you that," Steve kept his gaze on Bucky, but his dark haired best friend continued to look down.

"I never even got to tell her I love her," Bucky whispered through his shaky voice, his eyes slipped with hot tears that stained his rosy cheeks.

Steve pressed his lips together, his dimples caved in as he did so. "So go tell her, Buck, she's right in there," His voice softened.

Bucky released a gentle breath and finally looked up to Steve. The two locked eyes for a moment, silence overtook the entire kitchen. Without saying anything more, Bucky stood from his chair and left his cereal upon the table. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he walked down the halls of the Compound towards the infirmary.

It was as if time slowed down the closer he got to his destination. His legs were shaken and his heart raced with anticipation and nervousness. He shouldn't have been nervous, but he was and he couldn't shake the feeling.

"Doc, hey.." Bucky took his knuckle and gently knocked upon the opened door of the infirmary, stepping inside to scan the room with his bloodshot eyes.

"Sergeant Barnes, can I help you?" She lowered her medical face mask and watched as Bucky walked further into the room.

"Is it okay if I talk to Y/N for a minute? If you're not in the middle of anything," He asked with his words, but his eyes did most of the persuading.

Dr. Cho nodded her head slowly, "Sure. I'll keep the door shut for you." She removed her plastic gloves and tossed them into the garbage can beside the sink. Bucky offered a thin smile and watched as she left the room.

The sound of the door closing caused an array of butterflies to swarm around the pit of Bucky's stomach. He felt as though he could fall over any moment, but he gripped onto the countertop – beside the cot of which you laid upon – to maintain his balance.

"Hey, doll," Bucky started as his voice shook. His light eyes watched your body laying there, motionless. He released a gentle sigh and let his eyes flicker towards a chair beside the bed. He parted his lips and walked forward, gripping the chair with his fingertips and pulled it beside the bed. Bucky took a seat and licked his lips, moistening the dryness of them.

"So, uhm.." Bucky released a gentle sigh, "I'm not doing so good, Y/N/N. I haven't been able to sleep or eat ever since you got hurt. Our last mission was a total mess. It should've been me who took the hit and I haven't been able to forgive myself for letting you end up here.. like this."

Bucky was not one to be vulnerable, but with you all guards were let down and he could express so much to you, more than he would've liked to admit. "Everyone's worried about you, but they all know you'll be okay. Sure, yeah, I know you'll be fine, but what if you aren't?" Bucky spoke in a raspy tone, the shakiness would soon cease.

"I know you can hear me, but it's like you're not even here. It's like I'm talking to your corpse," He took his palm and ran it down his face. "Y/N, I didn't get to tell you some things that I'd been meaning to share with you."

Bucky released a shaky breath and allowed more tears to slip from his eyes, "I love you." His body leaned forward, closer to the edge of the bed as he reached for your palm, taking it into his own. "I knew it the minute I met you," He choked out, attempting to maintain a steady tone. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner and I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I let you get hurt under my watch, I hate myself for letting this happen to you, doll."

Gently letting his lips rest against one another, Bucky pressed his forehead against the edge of the mattress. Tears slipped and his body grew physically weak, the emotional pain hit him like a high speed train.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N/N.." He whispered through his tears.

Ever so delicately, you grazed your fingertips over Bucky's and moved them up to his head. With all the strength you had regained, you softly ran your fingers through his long hair. The texture was soft and you admired that. Tears slipped from your closed eyes as you listened to him weep before you.

Bucky's head turned up to look at you and noticed your body begun to move, your fingertips moving by your command, your eyes slowly blinking as you took in your surroundings.

"Doll?" He whispered through the tears.

"Bucky.." You smiled weakly and took your hand, that lingered in his hair, and caressed his cheek softly. The pad of your thumb brushed away his tears.

"I love you," He whispered and turned his lips toward your hand against his face, kissing your palm and fingers softly.

"It took you long enough to say it," You released a gentle laugh and gently pulled his closer, foreheads resting against one another. Bucky smiled through his tears, pupils dilating as he looked down at you.

Weakly, you pulled his face closer, overtaking his mouth with your own. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips molded with Bucky's as though they were crafted by the Gods just for one another. Your fingers ran through his hair, admiring the utter softness of it. The flavor of his mouth was unlike anything you've ever tasted. You let him sneak his tongue between your lips and toy with it gently.

Softly pressing your palm to his chest, you pulled back to catch a breath with a gentle smile. "Please don't have to be sorry for anything, Bucky," You spoke in a whisper, your voice slightly hoarse. "You did all that you could," Caressing his cheek softly, you kissed his nose as he had been leaning close.

"I love you," Bucky's tears dried beneath his eyes as he pressed his lips against yours once again, the feeling overwhelming beautiful.

"And I love you," You muttered into his mouth, feeling your body ease into his.

a/n: hi beautiful babies!! i hope you liked this little angsty fluffy piece! i think we all enjoy seeing bucky vulnerable and sometimes i wish i could've seen his vulnerability in the avengers movies, but most of it came out in tfaws, which i loved seeing as well. i hope this made you smile and cry at the same time. i also hope i got bucky's vulnerable side as accurate as possible! i love you all so dearly. enjoy this and have a lovely day/night. be safe and treat people with kindness. — angelina.

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

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My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x soulmate!reader #tom hiddleston soulmate au #soulmate au #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #completely self indulgent #as always

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 64: Shower

There were a lot of benefits to living in a muggle flat in London.

Draco never had to worry about being recognized, it was delightfully noisy (always an added bonus when you woke up from a nightmare, it was very grounding), and one of his neighbors was always leaving him baked goods just outside his door.

But there were definite downsides as well. Mostly that when things broke (which pretty much seemed to be always) he couldn't use magic to fix it and had to wait for the muggle repair man.

"You're sure you can't get here any sooner than Friday to fix the shower?" he asked the maintenance man over the muggle mobile he'd purchased shortly before moving in.

"I'll get there as soon as I can but it's Friday at the earliest," the man replied, "right now I have a busted toilet, a broken garbage disposal, a kitchen light repair, a cabinet door replacement, a window that won't open, a door knob that the lock sticks on, and an ac unit that is pumping in hot air."

Draco resisted the urge to tell him to hire some help and sighed, "Right. Thank you."

The man grunted in response and hung up.

After a moment of contemplating his options, he gathered up his bath supplies and marched down the hall. When he'd moved in a girl named Amelia had told him if he ever needed anything just to come knock on her door. She'd said that she and her boyfriend would be happy to help, and she had even mentioned a shower breaking specifically.

Steeling himself he knocked, "Amelia?" he called. "It's Thomas from 116," he added, he'd almost gotten used to calling himself that. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but my shower is broken and-"

"Just a minute!" a distinctly male voice called back.

And he waited, feeling more embarrassed since couldn't recall having ever met Amelia's boyfriend. He hoped that he wouldn't think that Draco was a creep.

"Sorry," the man called, and Draco heard the locks being slid from their places, "Amelia and I broke up but I'd be glad to help wi-"

The door opened and Draco felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. "Potter?" he spluttered

(Read more below the cut)

"Draco Malfoy, what the actual fuck?"

"What are you doing here?" Draco hissed.

Potter drew back like Draco had slapped him, "What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"

Before Draco could respond, Delores from the room between their rooms emerged and Potter grabbed him by the front of his tshirt and dragged him inside of his flat.

Draco barely had a moment to notice that his flat was surprisingly cozy before Potter was standing in front of him once more, arms crossed over his chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here!" Draco exclaimed. "I've lived here for six months!"

"Well I have lived here for almost a year!" Potter replied. "How did you find this place?"

"Do you know how hard it is to find a flat to rent in London?" Draco asked.

Potter paused, "Actually, yes," he replied. "And this place is enough of a shit-hole that there is a rotating tenant-base."

"Where's Amelia?"

Potter's brow furrowed, "How do you know Amelia?"

"I don't," he said with a shrug, "I met her when I was moving in and she told me if my shower ever broke I should just come knock on her door."

Potter sighed, "Damn."

"What?" Draco asked, feeling like he'd missed something.

"Oh nothing," Potter said, waving him off, "I'd just really been hoping that the guy I caught her cheating on me with was the only one."

Draco spluttered, "I was not romantically involved with your girlfriend."

"No," Potter replied, "No, I know. Just we worked opposite shifts so she was home in the day and I was home at night, and," he shrugged, "Well, you know how it goes."

Draco pinched his arm, he must be dreaming.

Potter turned and wandered toward his kitchen and Draco couldn't help but wonder if he was meant to follow him. "Tea?" Potter called over his shoulder.

And really, Draco had just meant to beg to use the shower but that little part of him that desperately loved gossip decided tea was a better plan. "Please."

The other man sent a smile at him over his shoulder, dimple popping up and Merlin, when had Potter gotten this attractive?

"So," he said as he put the kettle on, "What do you do?"

"I'm going to a muggle university, actually," Draco replied as he found a seat on a stool at the island, "studying to be a solicitor."

"Huh," Potter said, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose, "That suits you."

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean," he said, brow furrowed.

"Oh, nothing," Potter assured, "Just you're clever, good at arguing, and good at finding loop holes, I imagine."

At the earnest look on Potter's face, he decided not to take offense. "What is it that you do?"

Potter smiled at him, "I work at an animal shelter."

Draco blinked, he'd never expected that answer.

"I know," Potter laughed, "It's not what anyone expected but it makes me happy and it feels like good work."

The kettle whistled and Potter turned around to fetch down a couple of mugs and make them tea. "How long have you been living out of the wizarding world?"

"A little over a year," he replied. "It was just too difficult," Draco said, "I was mobbed everywhere I went, sent death threats," he added, "Not that I don't deserve them-"

"You don't," Potter said sharply, spinning around to face him. "Godric, Draco, you were just a kid. We all were."

He swallowed and looked down at the island, "Be that as it may," he said carefully, "I think it's easier for people." He made a vague gesture, "Not to have to see me."

"The pressure in the wizarding community is unreal," Potter said, setting a cup of tea along with the sugar bowl in front of Draco before he made his way to his refrigerator, "You still don't take cream, do you?"

"No," he replied with a little smile, pleased that he wasn't the only one to still remember oddities about the other.

"Why don't we go into the living room?" he suggested. "My furniture in there is much more comfortable."

Draco followed along behind him and settled onto what appeared to be the least squishy piece of furniture, a beige chair. Potter seemed to have no such qualms and sunk into a cozy rocking chair. Draco cleared his throat, "You've been gone for how long now?" he asked.

"Almost two and a half years," Potter replied before taking a sip of tea.

"Do you miss it?" Draco asked.

Shrugging one shoulder he answered, "Sometimes. I still go to the Weasley's most Sundays and I go for birthday parties and holidays. It's enough." He took another sip of tea, his eyes glued to Draco in that piercing way of his and it felt like it had been ages since someone had actually seen him. "What about you? Do you miss it?"

"At the beginning," he confessed, "But less now."

Potter hummed, seemingly waiting for Draco to continue

"Did you go to-"

Potter waved him off, "My life is exceptionally boring, I assure you. Tell me about you," he said. "Tell me about school, about what you want to do with your degree, tell me about acclimating to Muggle life," he chuckled, "tell me everything."

And so Draco did. He talked about his classes, talked about how difficult certain parts of living like a muggle were, talked about doing work with children, talked about doing a double major in law and in psychology. Draco talked, and talked, and talked while Harry listened; and he realized it had been a really long time since someone had done this with him.

He was in the middle of a story about how he hadn't understood how pens worked when Harry's mobile rang. With a wince he pulled it out of his pocket, "Sorry," he said, silencing it only for it to start ringing again a minute later. He huffed, "Sorry," he repeated. "It's Hermione and Ron. They'll just keep calling if I don't answer, give me just a minute."

"Of course," he said.

Harry gave him a little smile, "I'll get some more tea," he added before picking up.

Over the tiny little speaker Draco could hear cheering and hollering before a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday was sung and Draco felt the blood drain from his face. He pulled out his own mobile and clicked the wake button. July 31

He felt like such an arse, here he was blabbering away at the other man when Potter probably had a million things he'd rather be doing.

"Thank you," Potter said over the phone from the kitchen. "I'm a bit busy just now," he broke off to listen to some chatter. "Yes. I'll be by on Sunday to celebrate." Another pause, "Yes. Love you all, too. Kisses to Rosie and Teddy."

When he returned he said, "Sorry, you were saying about the pens?"

"I feel like an absolute clot," Draco said.

"What? Why?"

"It's your birthday!" he exclaimed, "and here I've sat for the past two hours talking your ear off about..." he trailed off, "Complete nonsense!"

"Oh, it's fine," he said, waving Draco off, "This is way better than the way I was planning to spend my birthday."

"Oh? Why don't I believe you?" he asked.

"No really," Potter said earnestly. "I was just going to go for a walk and then hang out around the house."

"But why? Don't your friends want to see you?"

"Oh, the Weasleys are away. They went on a trip to Spain; when they made the plans, I'd planned to be on a beach in the Galapagos with Amelia."

"I'm taking you to dinner," he said firmly.

"I couldn't impo-"

"I insist," he interrupted. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Well if you insist," Harry said with a laugh.

"Good. I'm going to use your shower and then go get dressed and we're leaving in twenty minutes."

He chuckled, "It's a date."

--------

And it really had felt like a date, Draco reflected as they strolled back toward their apartment building after a long dinner with multiple courses and dessert.

"Thank you, by the way," Harry said, his shoulder bumping lightly into Draco's when they were just outside of their building.

"Don't mention it," he replied. "It's the least I could do."

Harry stopped and looked over at him, so Draco stopped next to him, "It's not, though," he said. "You didn't have to do any of this."

"I wanted to," he huffed.

He started to lean in closer, "Tell me if I'm reading this wrong," he whispered.

"What?"

"This," he murmured before his fingers cupped Draco's cheek and his lips pressed, soft and dry, against Draco's lips.

Harry drew back, "Alright?" he whispered.

Draco's fingers clenched in the front of Harry's shirt and he tugged him back in, slotting their lips together once more. The fingers on Harry's right hand slid through Draco's hair and his other slipped around Draco's back, drawing their bodies flush against one another as Harry's tongue brushed over Draco's bottom lip.

They stood on the sidewalk and kissed for a long moment before Harry pulled back and murmured, "Come home with me?"

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, brow furrowing.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life," he replied, pecking Draco's lips again.

He couldn't help but smile as he nodded his consent and Harry grabbed his hand and dragged him inside and straight to his bedroom.

------

Later, when they were still lying in bed talking about whatever nonsense came into the heads, Harry said, "Draco?"

"Mmmh?"

"This was probably the best birthday I've ever had."

He rolled onto his side so he could see Harry's face illuminated by the moonlight. Harry reached up and brushed his forefinger over Draco's cheekbone and Draco responded, "You've not had many good birthdays, then, have you?"

Harry laughed, "I've had some good birthdays."

"Next year," Draco said before he could think through what he was about to say, "Next year I will give you the best birthday you've ever had."

"Oh?" Harry said, grinning widely at him.

At the sweet, innocent look on Harry's face, he let himself dream, let himself imagine what life could turn out like. He nodded, "I'll wake you up with lazy morning sex, you seem like the type to really enjoy that."

"I am," Harry affirmed, his dimples showing.

Draco leaned in and pressed a kiss to the nearest dimple and said, "Then, I'll take you to Paris for breakfast."

"Ooh, Paris?"

He nodded, "I'll get you strawberry crepes with mounds of whipped cream."

"Sounds delicious," Harry said.

"Then I'll take you to a beach somewhere, Bora Bora maybe," he added, enthralled by the pleased crinkle around Potter's eyes.

He hummed, "I've never been to Bora Bora."

"No?"

Harry shook his head.

"Right, then we'll spend the whole day there, I'll sit under an umbrella all day and pretend to get annoyed when you come to kiss me and get sand and ocean water all over me."

He laughed, "As long as it's pretend."

"Then," Draco said, "I'll bring you back to a little villa that you can see the ocean through the floor and I'll cook you dinner. We'll eat together, then go swimming in the dark."

"Sounds lovely," Harry sighed.

"And then we'll come back and try out the bed that's under the stars," he said, brushing a hand over Harry's waist.

"That sounds really nice," he murmured.

"It's a date, then," Draco said.

He smiled back and echoed, "It's a date."

-------

And, true to his word, one year later Draco took Harry to Paris for breakfast and then to Bora Bora for the rest of the weekend. Harry proposed to Draco the very next morning.

--------

Day 63: Hair | Day 65: Question

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #getting together #fluffy #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlet #bisexual harry potter #send me an ask and i'll write you a ficlet #thanks for the prompt! <3

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prettynxsty · 3 years

Text

Spandex

Sub!J-Hope x Domme!Reader

Warnings: polishing (cock head play), power bottom-ish hoseok, hoseok has a pussy, risky semi-public sex, its not really a kink but cameltoe 🥴, impregnation kink, biting, mild sweat kink?, nipple play, nothing short of a creampie

Summary: We barely have a plot this time, reader and Hobi go to Jin’s barbecue and get terribly nasty in the bathroom.

AN: We have the appearance of ot7 in this fic. This was another product of my horrible imagination, enjoy. Sidenote, they’re not kissing each other on the mouth, it’s cheek to cheek as a greeting.

“Are you sure about this?” You peered over at him warily, glancing back at yourself in the mirror.

“Of course, we’re going to be the best dressed there.” Hoseok turns to you with a pointed look, ceasing the fussing over his hair. “Are you doubting my styling abilities?”

“Not at all, but..” You start but trail off in defeat, you knew exactly how stubborn he could be.

“The only person that’s going to be looking at your dick is me,” he turns back to the mirror to fuss over himself, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You threw your hands in the air, grabbing the pair of leggings off of the bed and will yourself to step into them. Sighing through your nose, you decide to tuck your dick into one of the legs instead of letting it rest in a nearly ridiculously sized bulge.

You absolutely loved the idea of wearing matching outfits to Jin’s barbecue, however you never would have guessed that your fiance would put you in such a predicament. Instead of leggings, he wore an irreverent pair of biker shorts that were cut higher than what could have been legally allowed.

You scratch at your bicep for a brief second before grabbing your button up off of the bed. You slip it over your arms, folding the collar down before working the buttons from the bottom to the top. You admire the graphic print as you grab two tails on the sides and twist them neatly before tucking them under the rest of the fabric. You take your time, pulling up the waist of the leggings and achieve the perfect tuck of your shirt.

In contrast, Hoseok’s top was cropped to flash a sliver of his belly and waist chain. He must have had the mind to subtly (loudly) outshine your friends, should any of them have decided to wear matching outfits with their own partners.

“Okay, how do I look babe?” His voice takes you out of your meticulous fretting, turning from the bathroom to where he stood in front of the dresser.

You step back into your house slippers, shuffling out to get a better look.

You remembered why summer had become a close second, if not first to your favorite season. His loose curls swish with life, breathing deep praline chestnut. His cologne smells fresh with a twist of sweet tang, like an ice cold lemonade that kisses you good afternoon during the hottest days.

His skin was halfway between his stunning butter pecan to his deeper toffee with a little rosy flush. He chews on his bottom lip with a cheeky smile, he loved when you got that look in your eye. Hoseok drops his arms and places his hands over the front of his waist, shimmying his shoulders and hips.

Seamless. Your eyes dip down to where his shorts began, coasting a hair above the middle of his thigh. The crotch of his shorts hug his slim little mound and dip in touch, showing exactly where his pussy lips split apart. His inner thighs stretch and sway with each little happy swing of his hips.

“What do you think? What do you think?” He squeals, turning to the side and glancing at himself in the mirror. Your heart beats a little harder for a moment, reminding you that it’s still there. His ass bounces just slightly under the give of the spandex, curving gorgeously from the small of his back.

“I like it a lot, and I can really move in it!” He turns his back to you, arching slightly and spreading his feet before bouncing his ass.

“Keep playing and we won’t make it to Jin’s barbecue.” You wag a finger at him, turning back toward the mirror in the bathroom.

“You know, we could do it right now.” His lips lift into a smile, eyes shimmering with thought unholy. You knew then that you were in for it, you just didn’t know when.

“Not a chance, Jin won’t ever let it go.”

You should’ve thought that the heat was disgusting, abhorrent. Although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it, something about it was nostalgic.

The sun’s rays burned your skin in a way that made pleasant fuzzies creep into your chest. Your forehead is damp, but it doesn’t drip. The light outside was clearer, defining the world’s colors.

Sinewy, fibrous clouds spread and stretch over the expanse of blue overhead. The breeze is ever changing, gusts that warm you and gusts that cool you in concatenation.

Jin’s fence is built of high, wood stained cognac. He didn’t fix the pool for the season yet, everyone preferred to swim during the thick of temperature. You enter through the back, hailed with the warmth of friendship.

The first to approach you is Taehyung, the flush of his cheeks is of the sun’s kiss, not yet too many beers had. The can swishes in his hand as he wraps his arms around you, giving your back a firm pat before pressing his cheek to yours in a kiss.

You rub his back just before he pulls away and greets Hoseok just the same. Nearest to you is Yoongi, to which you slink up behind his chair and sling an arm over his shoulder. His fisherman’s hat brushes your ear as his warmer cheek presses against yours, greeting him.

Jimin’s sandals scrape over the concrete bricks as he approaches you, arms wide open with two damp bottles of ale in between his thumb and index finger. He eagerly receives your kiss in greeting, pressing the bottle into your palm before moving to show love to his old friend.

You enter the semicircle of chairs, kissing Namjoon from his chair before you are yanked into Jungkook’s embrace. Leaning on the tips of your toes, you kiss him and squirm with a noise of alarm.

“Sweaty?” He chuckles, squeezing you before stepping back.

“Ew, yes.” You catch on to his laughter, brows scrunching together.

“Wouldn’t be as bad if hyung cleaned his pool so we could swim.”

“So you could throw us all in one by one? I think I’m good.”

Jungkook runs his fingers through his damp hair, combing it back. “You’ll be alright, he’ll get it cleaned soon anyway.”

You shake your head, lovingly patting his shoulder before making your way toward the grill.

Jin stands back from the smoke, spatula in one hand and the other propped on his hip. His face is hard with concentration, breaking into something relaxed as you approach.

“This should have been a potluck, I’m already tired.” He wipes the sweat from his forehead over the back of his wrist, leaning down to receive your greeting.

Old friends, new friends, friends of friends, and friends of Jin slowly fill out the rest of the backyard, growing a sense of liveliness about you.

You eventually needed a break from the music, dropping yourself in a chair with a plastic cup full of something wild. Jin’s Juice, he liked to dub it. Something that opened the back of your brain and let loose the versions of yourself trapped under your skin, behind the glass of mirrors.

It really should’ve tasted like gasoline, this stuff. But he managed to make it taste like the past. Near an elixir, it was your tongue’s choice to decide what it was. Your tongue this time decided to open, you’re pleased with the mouth smacking tang of lemon, balanced with kisses of sugar and bubbles that sparkle over your tongue.

You pant, carefully pouring away the rest of the drink into a mouthful before tossing it toward the garbage can nearby.

Hoseok notices immediately that something is amiss, slipping his way through a thicket of dancing bodies, swinging, undulating limbs and parts. The pit of his stomach is warm and glowing with coconut rum. His giddy smile widens into a grin that bares his beautiful top row of chompers when he spots you.

He flounces over, dropping himself on your lap, slowly leaning his back against your chest. He turns his head, his lips clumsily passing over the folds of your ear.

“... thought you left.”

The tickling of his breath makes your stomach flutter, you’re not in a place to hide your feelings right now.

“Nah, it’s just hot.” You murmur against the nape of his neck.

He hums in reply, leaning forward and planting his hands on your knees to plant his feet properly. You lean your head back against the chair. You weren’t sure if it was on purpose or happened to be your luck, but Hoseok fully sat himself on your bulge, thighs spread over yours.

The music crawls up his toes like a current, rushing up his body. His shoulders sway back and forth, though it doesn’t take long for his hips to follow.

He glances dramatically over his shoulder at you, lips pouting and spreading around word after word in the current song. His lower back curves and swivels with each wicked grind forward. He spreads his thighs further apart, bouncing his ass over your bulge.

Your lips together, popping out around a single word. “Please.” Your voice is lost in the sound. Your hand molds under the thick of his ass, squeezing it.

He’s only fueled by the burn and yearn, tongue poking through his teeth. His chest bounces with a chuckle that could only be called satisfaction.

Your hand slips around the back of his thigh, dragging your fingertips over his stomach. The small links of his waist chain graze against your palm

A whisper from the back of your skull reminds you that the sun is still high and you must respect the decency of other eyes. He was beautiful, pulling you under, bewitched.

You swallow noisily, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his waist to cease his grinding.

“Bathroom.”

His brows shoot up in surprise, stunned before he squirms in your arms as you shift to stand.

“What? Wait!” He pouts as you set him on his feet before straightening your legs.

You don’t rush, rather saunter away as casually as possible. Your cock throbs helplessly against your thigh as you push open the screen door and step into the chilly house before closing it behind you.

It felt eerily empty since nobody chose to enter unless they needed to get to the bathroom. You pass through the living room and round the couch, silently thanking Jin for having a bathroom downstairs.

You pull the door closed behind you, locking it before dumping yourself over the sink with a groan. You glance at yourself in the mirror, your lids hung low with the buzz floating through your body. You flick at the sink knob, running the water.

It wouldn’t be an instant fix as it went in the movies, but it’d provide you with enough focus to will away your hard on. Blankly you watch the tap run.

It didn’t take Hoseok long to set it in his thick skull that he was going to get it from you no matter what it took. He entered the house just as you shut the door behind you. He approaches the door, placing his hand over the handle. Locked.

He knew well enough that the lock on this door was weak. In fact, it played a role in a lot of pranks over the years.

He whirls around, jogging toward the kitchen. He knew Jin’s place like the back of his hand, just as they all knew each others. Third drawer to the left, it rolls open with ease. He grabs a butter knife and shuts away the rest.

By memory, he lodges the rounded tip into the strike, pushing back the latch bolt. The door welcomes him in silence as he carefully sets the knife on the vase on the floor. He slips through the crack, before pulling it closed.

You cup your hands under the running water, guiding it up and onto the lower half of your face. The click of the door makes your heart jump, snapping your head toward the door.

“You okay?” He wraps his arms around you from behind, his skin pushes heat through yours. You hadn’t realized how much you’d cooled down already.

“Why are you so hot?” You whined, splashing more water over your cheeks.

“Thank you~” he hummed and giggled as he pressed his forehead against the center of your back.

Although you were well aware he was a cup or can shy of drunk, he seemed to retain his fine motor skills anyway. He slips a hand under the waistband of your leggings, snatching up your softening dick.

You feel a tug in your gut without pause when he seals his grip around your heavy shaft. His fingers slip over the pliant flesh as he rolls your foreskin down with his thumb.

Your resolve is wavering.

He lifts his head, pressing a noisy, wet kiss over the grove connecting the back of your ear to your head. You press your lips together, huffing as a shiver crawls up to your shoulders. You knock the faucet closed with a damp fist, gripping the counter with your other hand.

His knuckles roll under the fabric of your leggings as he drags the head of your cock over the ridges of his palm.

“I’m so fucking wet right now, we can be quick.” He muttered into your ear, biting gently on your lobe before sucking it between his lips.

The tip of his index finger circled your frenulum before he presses down and scrubs his finger back and forth. Your toes curl with a groan that swells into a sweet moan.

“Ugh, I love it when I can hear you,” he releases your ear with a pop before moving to work his way down. He finds a place that seems tasty enough, laving his tongue over his before sealing his lips around it.

He slows his assault on your frenulum, wrapping his index and thumb around your glans, squeezing and jerking it.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip with a growl, he washed away your manner of reason much too easily. Your mind cracks into fragments unseen, blown away by his breath.

You make an ugly choked noise, losing rhythm in your breath when wet squelching fills the air.

“God, yes.” He breathes, lifting his fingers to his mouth to smear some of your precum over his tongue before squeezing his fingers back around the head of your cock.

“You’re so fucking nasty.” Your voice was strained. He dug his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tightening his hold on the head of your cock.

Your vision breaks and sparkles. There should have been dents in the counter from your grip. He drags the tip of his tongue around the rosying flesh surrounding your bite mark.

The tip of his nose traces up the column of your neck, meandering to the back. Your hair stands on end. There was something about that spot that made you lose control, and he loved to abuse it.

He presses an opened mouth kiss to the nape of your neck, suckling gently. You swallow noisily as his canines drag over it.

Thick, heavy expletives roll over your gums when he bites down. Only the noise of your heartbeats and blood rushing to your ears is apparent.

“God, take your fucking shorts off.”

The trembling growl in your timbre sends a bounty of blood rushing to his pussy, it felt like his thighs were sticking together. He places a sympathetic kiss over your dark bite mark, shuffling back to work his garment down.

He manages to get one leg out before you shove him against the light grey wall.

“Bet you’re so wet that it’d just go in.”

He whines, throwing his arms around your shoulders as you lift one of his thighs and prop it on your hip.

You grip your dick and swish the head in between his blood swollen folds.

“Look at how fucking red it got.” Your cock jumps in your hand as you give it a few pumps, pulling back your foreskin. You nudge the tip against his clit, licking your lips when he jerks his hips away with a squeal.

“Too much?” You sneer, returning to pumping the head in between his lips. You didn’t fail to catch each squeak when the head of your cock caught around the edge of his hole.

His fists curl around handfuls of your shirt as you press your way in.

“You gonna get me pregnant tonight? Mnh, I didn’t take my birth control this morning.” He keens, gently dropping his forehead against yours. It hardly took a brush of his lips against yours before you consumed his mouth in a filthy kiss.

You curl your tongue around his, sucking it into your mouth noisily. You grind your hips upward, fully settling your hips against his. His moan is muffled by your lips, tongue slipping over the backs of your gums.

You release him with a smack, licking up the traces of vanilla and coconut from the seam of your lips.

“Play with my tits,” he arches his back against the wall, pushing his chest toward you.

You shove a hand under his top, shoving the fabric out of your way with your wrist. He sings for you as your skin begins to thump against his with each thrust.

The pad of your thumb scrubs over the center of his nipple, squeezing a moan out of him.

“Fuck, you gonna give me a baby?” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, throwing his head back with a cheeky smile when you rut in deeper.

His thighs are tingling, it felt so… otherworldly when you went in raw.

His brows knit together, his lips falling apart with a breathy moan. You clumsily shove his crop top further up his chest, leaning in and taking his nipple into your mouth with a wet suckle.

You occupy your free hand by moving it below. You push apart his outer lips with your fingers, gently sweeping your thumb over the head of his clit.

Hoseok immediately seizes up, squirming against you with a cry.

“Please!” He squealed, his inner thighs spasmed in such a way that his knees nearly buckled.

You roll the tip of his nipple between your teeth, scrubbing the tip of your tongue over it. You release it and kiss around the edges of his areola before treating his other nipple to the same.

“You gonna cum on this dick?” You murmur, digging the heel of your thumb over his little pink nub.

“Oh my god,” he hisses while tilting his hips. “Fuck me harder!”

You move toward his neck, nosing at his shoulder. The clapping of your skin rings in your ears.

Squelching, squirting, wet, disgusting. His breath catches in his throat before coming out as a delighted croon.

His cream spreads over your length and adds a slip that makes your thighs flex.

The beating of yours and his heart takes further residence in your ears. Too much.

Too much. Too much. Too much. Toomuchtoomuchtoomuchtoomuch.

You cum with a rattling groan that sets your limbs aglow, burning and tingling that you can’t get away from. You feel the comforting presence of his nails dragging circles over the canvas of your shoulder blades.

Your erratic breath follows his in canon, slowing to synchronicity as you remember all that surrounds you.

He meets you with a gooey smile, his kiss sets off warm white bursts in your head.

“I love you.”

Jin sent a text to their group chat later, asking why there was a butter knife on the vase by the bathroom.

#sub!bts #sub!idol #sub idol #sub!jhope x domme!reader #sub jhope x domme reader #domme!reader #domme reader #sub kpop #dom reader

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile.

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please."

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile.

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone."

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think?

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous.

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing.

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else.

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow.

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you.

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please."

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood.

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby.

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler.

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face.

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long."

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks."

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect.

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her.

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore.

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match.

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring.

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence.

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd.

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now."

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture.

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up.

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away.

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium.

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things.

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult.

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong.

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened.

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction.

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her.

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together.

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk.

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that.

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it."

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this.

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare.

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork.

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo.

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away.

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by.

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers.

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how.

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking.

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over.

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with."

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan.

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin."

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower.

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall.

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose.

"Very much so, yes."

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then."

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm.

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets.

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused.

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year.

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile.

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row.

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible.

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time.

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance --

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off.

And, of course, you can't forget the actors.

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes.

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back.

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are.

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees.

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened.

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look.

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat.

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her."

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago.

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow.

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times.

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion.

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again.

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all.

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together.

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know.

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing.

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff."

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course."

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare."

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief.

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss.

"What about Jeong?"

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night."

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to.

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers.

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?"

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer."

"I can totally see that."

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips.

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much."

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing."

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that.

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself.

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more.

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever."

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time.

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit.

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours.

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it.

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again.

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager.

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle.

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you."

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds.

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on.

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that."

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me."

"Aww, don't be like that, baby."

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens.

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again.

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement.

"Good, because there's more where that came from."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us."

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nachosforfree · 3 years

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What would you say is your hottest fnaf take? Like a headcanon or opinion or something? 👀 ~ Rosie 🌹

idk what rlly counts as a hot take But i think william actually did care about his children for the most part. i think he was a bit neglectful and also in later years treated michael like garbage, but from sister location i think at least elizabeth really loved him, and not just in the way children automatically love their parents, plus the fact he's designed at least one animatronic after at least one of his kids (i assume elizabeth was his favorite but eh)

#asks #idk if i need to tag this as anything

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roseverdict · 2 years

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tfw you make a thing and then use it at every opportunity until it becomes stale and annoying, but eventually you spruce it up and it's good again

#i accidentally made one of my faed songs my ringtone aaages ago and just. didn't get around to changing it for a while #but it was the old Sounds Like Hot Garbage Engine #anyway i've put the new and improved musescore edition on loop for a while and i'm just sitting here like #'yeah. yeah i'm not terrible at tunes :)'#rosie babbles #faedposting

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moonbeamwritings · 4 years

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“i’ve never seen you in a sweatshirt before”

Summary: Bruno is the epitome of elegance and grace. Always dressed to the nines, hair always perfectly styled. One night, while you’re thinking about just how bad you have it for him, you see him in a sweatshirt for the very first time.

Author’s Note: This is entirely self-indulgent! I just think it’s cute to think about Bruno and company in comfy clothes for once. Enjoy!

Bruno Bucciarati was a man of elegance, grace, and calculated intelligence. You often envied his capacity for compassion, well, as much as one could offer as a mafioso. He was sweet, criminal activity be damned.

You were drawn to him as soon as you first met him. Kind, understanding, and welcoming all when you needed it the most. You were down on your luck back then, coaxed into a criminal lifestyle with the promise of a famiglia, of something to call your own.

It was strange, really, to reflect on your experiences with your friends. You’d complied with Polpo’s orders, betrayed the boss, and fell into stride with Giorno’s new leadership in an eight day whirlwind of anxiety and enemies. Months later, it seemed that everything had slipped into some semblance of normalcy.

You were resting in bed, your window thrown open to allow the cool, Italian breeze to drift through your curtains. You felt like you hadn’t seen Bruno in weeks, him being so wrapped up in working alongside Giorno that you’d barely been able to even speak to him. The thought made you frown. Against your better judgment, you harbored much more than friendship in your heart for the black-haired mafioso, all the while knowing that he’d never view you in the same way. You shifted your gaze to the ceiling, falling back against your bed as your book laid forgotten in your lap.

He was just so handsome, not to mention calming to be around. Could you really be blamed for missing him? For developing feelings for him? You thought not.

Groaning, you tried to get your mind away from him, to put your brain to use for something other than picturing his laugh or the way he smiled.

“It’s hopeless,” you spoke aloud, “I’m doomed.”

Losing yourself in your thoughts as you traced invisible patterns on your ceiling, you started to drift to sleep.

CRASH!

You shot awake, shifting over to glance at your clock.

For the love of God.

3:00 AM.

With a groan, you opted to at least go down and take a look. If it was one of the guys, then no harm done and you could go back to sleep. If it was someone else… Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got there.

On your way down, another noise sounded from the kitchen followed by frantic shushing, emphasized by the silence that the night brought to the house.

Rounding the corner, you rolled your eyes as they landed on Mista, hunched in front of the fridge like a little rat. To make the situation all the more ridiculous, you caught Narancia scurrying over to fling the pantry door open as well.

“Uhhh, hey guys,” you greeted, leaning against the doorway.

The pair looked over at you as if you’d just caught a couple of raccoons in your garbage can.

“I told you we’d wake someone up, you dipshit,” Narancia hissed at him, reaching over to try and smack at Mista’s shoulder.

Mista reacted almost immediately, scowl highlighted by the soft light of the fridge, “Shut up! You were the one dropping shit.”

“What are you doing up anyway?” You asked, moving to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“Playing video games.”

The reply was brief and in unison as the boys dug around for the food they wanted.

You let out a noise of vague approval, nodding your head despite knowing neither of them were looking at you. The room fell into relative silence, marked by the sounds of bags and containers being moved around. Before long, another set of soft footsteps came from the hallway.

“No,” Narancia whined, “if that’s Fugo, I’m dead.”

“What’s with all the noise?”

The light was flicked on.

It was most certainly not Fugo.

Bruno loomed in the doorway, face slightly rosy and decorated with faint lines. From his pillow, you thought. His usually immaculately styled hair was ruffled, gold clips nowhere to be seen. What struck you, though, was his sweatshirt.

The sweatshirt was light grey, a little too big to the point that the sleeves hung loosely over his hands, and it looked soft to boot. Wow, you thought, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

In the entire time that you’d known him, you’d never seen Bruno in anything other than his favorite white suit. A combination of him having a habit of working late most nights and you disappearing into your room to unwind before bed. Now, to see him with that sleepy look on his face in one of the comfiest sweatshirts you’d ever laid eyes on? God help you. You fell deeper in love, if that was even possible.

“Mista and I were hungry,” Narancia spoke up first.

“They woke me up.”

You were surprised you could even speak. Your face suddenly felt far too hot and you had to force yourself to peel your eyes away from Bruno’s form.

His eyes shifted away from Mista and Narancia to smile softly at you, “Ah, I see. Well, please keep it down. You two are lucky it was just us.”

He let out a chuckle as he gestured between you and himself, clearly thinking about how much worse the situation would have been had Abbacchio or Fugo stormed down the stairs and started raging in the kitchen.

Mista let out a loud breath, “You’re telling us. Sorry, Bucciarati.”

With a shake of his head, Bruno held up a hand, waving off the situation altogether, “No need, just try to be quiet.”

His eyes moved over to you, “Heading back upstairs?”

You had to blink a few times before you could muster a quiet, “Oh uh yeah,” in response.

He waited for you to push the chair back in and make your way over to him before turning to climb the stairs, bidding the two rats in the kitchen a quiet goodnight. You said the same as you followed behind him.

Your words got caught in your throat as you stopped in front of your own bedroom door, eyes following Bruno as he continued down the hallway.

He looked back at you, shooting you a look of utter displeasure, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed?”

“Come sit up with me, if you’re not too tired,” he offered, holding an arm out with a flourish as he opened his bedroom door.

How could you say no to that?

You padded down the hall, entering Bruno’s bedroom and standing to one side as he followed you in.

“You can sit, you know. I don’t bite.”

You reluctantly plopped yourself down, teetering dangerously close to the side of his bed to make sure you kept your distance.

“Come here. What did I just say?”

His voice was all teasing, words marked by a low chuckle as he furiously patted the spot right next to him. You end up sitting shoulder to shoulder against the headboard, so close that all you could focus on was him.

You had it bad.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while. I’m sorry I’ve been busy,” He started, leaning his head back against the wall.

You found yourself smiling before you could stop it, easily slipping into conversation with him despite your nerves, “It’s alright. I get it.”

“Mm, but still.”

There’s something he’s not saying, a dual meaning hanging in the air. For fear of getting your hopes up, you desperately tried to explain it away as you played with your fingers.

“Don’t apologize.”

He began to ask about what you’d been up to in his absence, eager to listen to you regardless of the sleep he’d lose in doing so. You indulged him, as you always did, telling him about the new book you’d been reading and the day out you’d had with Trish a few days earlier.

“I missed you, though.” You offered in conclusion, wrapping up your little report with a small smile.

“Really?” He asked, looking over at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Heh, yeah. I know, it’s kinda dumb.”

“No no,” he was quick to say, “I missed you too.”

You nodded as the room fell into a weird silence. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was nowhere near comfortable either.

“I’ve never seen you in a sweatshirt before.” You decided to say, eager to dispel the strange energy in the room.

“Really?” Came his immediate, incredulous answer.

“Yeah,” you stressed, letting out a playful giggle at his tone of voice, “Never.”

“Huh. I’ve never thought of it before, but I guess you’re right. Do you like it?”

The words came out before you could stop them, “It’s kinda strange honestly… Not in a bad way! It’s cute, don’t get me wrong! I’m just not used to it!”

You snapped your mouth shut as you realized you’d really just called him cute, and to his face no less.

“Cute?” you could practically hear the smile in his voice, “I like the sound of that.”

“I didn’t mean-” You frantically attempted to save face.

Bruno’s laugh interrupted you, effectively shutting you up, “Hey, it’s alright. Thank you.”

You glanced over at him to find him already looking at you, a stupid smile on his face.

“Don’t-” you sighed, embarrassment heating up your face, “Don’t look at me like that.”

His smile only seemed to widen, making your heart thump erratically in your chest, “And you’re calling me cute? You really are something else.”

“What are you-”

He reached up, taking your face in his hands, the softest look you’d ever seen gracing his features, “I think you know what I mean tesoro, you must.”

He sounded desperate, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

You would willingly drown in his eyes from this distance, feeling like a sailor adrift at sea falling prey to an alluring siren song, gripping your very soul to pull you in closer.

He kissed you before your mind could even catch up, completely hypnotizing you with the softness of his lips, the warmth of his hands. You lifted a hand to his chest, fisting at his sweatshirt to drag him even further toward you.

You both pulled away, breathless and warm, refusing to let go of one another. He nuzzled his nose against yours, so close that you could feel his smile, “I love you.”

You’re still breathless, your hand on his sweatshirt and his breath on your face the only things keeping you grounded, “I love you too, Bruno.”

He kissed you again, short and sweet. A simple peck before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours, face still gently held in his hands.

#bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati imagine #bruno bucciarati imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine

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creativeashproductions · 4 years

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Permanence // Luke Patterson

Summary: On the run for most of her life the reader had been accustomed to being a lone wolf in world with eyes everywhere. Living in the age of technology and life online makes it hard for a girl stuck in a permanent state at nineteen physically. All things change when the reader moves next door to a healing teenager and her ghostly band.

Warning: Swearing, loss of death, talk of injuries/hospital, angst, and fluff

Words: 5.1k (yikes)

A/N: Loosely based on the film Age of Adaline. Also includes a scene using the BBC show Call the Midwife as well. I’ve been MIA due to this fic. I love it.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The love tingled in your lips as the taxi pulled away from the curb leaving behind the white-haired woman. Your hand raised to wave as the woman turned into a speck in the review mirror but never far from your heart and thoughts.

“Going on a trip?” The taxi driver questioned taking a right turn with a jarring sensation. His brown eyes speedily meeting yours, “Does your mom grandma live in San Francisco?”

A mournful smile appeared on the wrinkle-free complexion, “Something like that.”

The reply didn’t faze the driver in a big city he had chosen to make his living with for his family, he had heard worse. The airport reared its head with the big heavily populated by tourists and loud machinery of transport.

The royal blue wool jacket concealed the black blouse tucked into the grey, and black tartan fitted trousers. Paired with the black velvet kitten heels that had been in your possession for a very long time. Hair left down in the soft waves and makeup natural for the plane right.

The flight was over quickly for the young woman with her carry on, and purse collected you immediately headed to baggage claim. The suitcase was easy found and lifted off the conveyor belt with little trouble. Your expressive eyes finding the taxi, some may call you old fashioned for not ‘ubering’, but it was a nostalgic action.

“Where to?” The taxi driver asked with pretty blue eyes shadowed by the crows’ feet at the corner’s of her eyes. Swiftly you listed off the address to the house you had bought with your vast savings, “Half hour ride.”

You settled back into the leather seat as the city passed by with the memories staunchly kept in a locked box escaping. Los Angeles had been the location of the only family trip you had had in your late teens.

Los Angeles, 1936

“Darling! This Samuel, he owns the restaurant up the beach.” Theodore’s bright white smile gleamed as he returned to your side, “He’s personally invited us to celebrate the first night of our life together.

The pleated cark charcoal pants held up with black suspenders snuggle atop the button-down shirt of denim blue colour. The shirt left with the top two buttons undone revealing the white undershirt. Shiny polished black shoes on Theodore’s feet he was dressed as perfect as the day he caught your runaway hat.

“Oh, thank you.” You told the shy man as he led you up to the well-known restaurant with the gorgeous view of the water.

Samuel went further by providing his best table in the house, leaving the host annoyed at the interruption. The dinner was spent with Theodore listing off the itinerary for the week in the city. From visiting the museums to watching a film at the Los Angeles Theatre recommended by Theodore’s connection from work.

“You like to share a dessert Darling?” Theodore asked tenderly holding your soft hand in his smooth one. His smile never faded as you declined his offer satisfied with the large meal from the five-course dinner.

“I’d much prefer the comfort of our hotel room.” Your lips ended the words with a smile that paired well with the glittering eyes. Theodore’s heart expanded as his wife’s smile, he had fallen in love with first.

“The hotel placed a nice bottle of champagne in our room,” Theodore spoke once the bill was taken care of. He pulled your chair out to help you slip on the navy blue wool jacket on from the back of your chair, “You are absolutely beautiful.”

“Still as charming as ever.” You whispered gazing up at him with such love.

You had loved Theodore from the first chaperoned date at sixteen with the handsome eighteen-year-old that had saved your hat. The wind that day had been unbearable as you walked the beach of San Francisco with your mother. At seventeen, you wed; a mere few days previous. Theodore came from a well-off family but worked as an engineer for the city.

“We’re here.” The taxi driver spoke as the car pulled to a stop at a pretty house painted a blue with white accents.

Mumbling a thank you the driver took off once your belongings found ground on the sidewalk and the fare paid. The house door unlocked with a click revealing the furnishing you had sent and hired a company to build. The boxes of personal belongings had arrived in boxes the previous day and awaited unpacking.

The first order of business on your to-do list was changing the locks as well as testing the safety alarm. The next few hours you unpacked your kitchen and clothing as the locksmith took his time finishing up previous appointments.

Your hand hovered over the oval golden framed photo of your wedding day with Theodore with a smile on both your faces. You didn’t look a day older than the day you married Theodore even if it had been so long. The familiar clench at the sight of the man happened every time you saw the photo.

“You’d be so proud of Rosie.” Your index finger caressed the elegant picture of your first love with a mournful emotion.

Pulled from the sad memories as the doorbell rang signalling the arrival of the locksmith. The appointment was swift before you finished unpacking the living room from the bookcase to the picture frames. As the minute handle circled the clock face, you settled in for the simple meal.

“Tea on the porch.” You sighed curling into the cherry red Adirondack chair in the front porch watching as children went inside their houses.

It wasn’t how you had anticipated your life dreaming of a life with a family in a lovely home. You never expected to live in fear for your life, and your child’s as the second World War reared its ugly head. You never envisioned having to move every few years to keep safe. Lastly, you had never foreseen watching Rosie’s hair turn white before your own. You thought you’d be buried beside your husband after a long life. So far, it had been too long at this point with your childhood friends all dead.

“Hi.” The voice of a teenage girl spoke. Your gaze left your lukewarm tea for the girl at the bottom of your porch.

Strands of her curly textured hair pulled away from her face it revealed her clear tawney complexion. The most expressive brown eyes framed with thick lashes that took your breath away with the kindness in them.

“You just moved in right?” The girl asked as you climbed down the steps to the younger teenager, “I’m Julie Molina, I live next door.”

“Hello Julie, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You spoke, shaking the extended hand of the young girl inspecting her.

Her fashion was obviously of the current time whereas your own style was a mixture of different eras. The style fits in but touches to bring in the past decades you had lived through.

“Where are your parents?” Julie asked with a furrowed brow.

“I live alone.” You replied sighing as the confusion flashed in the younger teen’s eyes before you elaborated, “I’m nineteen. I bought the house, my parents live in my home state.”

They weren’t living, but they were buried in the cemetery with the other family members that had since passed. Unless a freak accident happened, your plot near your husband wouldn’t be filled. The only person who knew the truth was Rosie, she was your daughter.

“Wow! That’s cool.” Julie beamed glancing over her shoulder as her phantom friends poofed in behind her.

The sudden appearance startled you and while it was confusing you had become well acquainted with weird. You hadn’t aged a day since a stormy night on the country roads in 1938 heading to pick up Rosie. You barely flinched at the appearance.

“Oh damn, Julie’s neighbour is hot.” The leather jacket one spoke scanning the newcomer with an awed expression.

The boy with the sleeveless top sharing the same awed expression. Whereas the blonde in pink’s breath released in an exasperated sigh. Only a corner of your lips twitched up at realization this must happen quite a bit.

“I should head back inside. I have a few more boxes to unpack. It was lovely to meet you, Julie.” Your eloquent words taking the boys by surprise from the lack of modern language and slang. You didn’t use any of the terms that Julie and Flynn spoke in.

Luke followed Julie with glances over his shoulder to the back of the mysterious girl closing her front door. It wasn’t often Luke was intrigued by anything other than his music. Still, something about you was the most interesting thing. Not even touring some of his favourite bands’ personal homes was as interesting.

“C’mon Luke!” Reggie called out to the lingering teenage ghost. Unbeknownst to the retreating guitarist, your curtain had been pulled away as you peeked at him.

Over the next few weeks, you had become acquainted with Julie, even admitting to seeing the boys. It was a mess of Reggie blushing at your revelation of hearing his comments on your beauty. It wasn’t earth-shattering, but it was a friend group.

Two months later, over the course of a week, you withdrew from the group for the comfort of your living room. A garbage bin for used tissues as it sank in once more that the anniversary of Theodore’s death rolled around. 82 years since he was tragically killed.

You looked a mess and barely reacted when the four friends to it upon themselves to enter your home. Your hazy mind barely caught onto the arrival as Julie ushered your saddened form to the bathroom.

As Julie helped dress you, taking it from the extensive closet, the boys cleaned up the living room, and Alex poofed out. He returned with a pizza he began cooking coming to a stop at Luke’s gaping gaze at the mantel above the fireplace.

“What’s wrong?” Alex demanded rushing to the guitarist side equally shocked. Perfect timing as you came back into the living room with Julie.

“That’s Theodore.” The words came out gravely from the lack of use for the past few days. Your feet brought you to the side of the three boys, “It was raining the day. The sky broke when we left the church.”

“That’s you?” Reggie inquired frantically glancing between the old photo and your exact replica of the picture.

Julie gasped at the sight picking out the scar on the edge of your forehead barely seen in the photo but the matching appearance remarkable. The soft smile appeared as your hand came to grab the frame remembering the lovely day—the beautiful ceremony and the small reception before heading out for the honeymoon.

“Theodore Prescott was eighteen when I first saw him on the beach in San Francisco. Mother and I chose a windy for a walk; my hat blew away. Straight into the trousers of a young man that I would fall in love with instantly.” Your smile grew as your form settled back on the couch, having traded the frame for an old album. The four people were quiet.

“We married a year later in 1937, I was seventeen years old. Theodore whisked me off to Los Angeles for our honeymoon. We dined at fancy establishments, caught a film at the Los Angeles Theatre.” Your smile faded, leading Julie’s heart to clench as she knew that expression from seeing it in the mirror, “He was an engineer.”

“What happened?” Julie questioned grasping your soft hand in her own hand, focusing her eyes on your face. Your face remembering one of the most challenging times.

“Theodore was an engineer for the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge. A section of the bridge collapsed taking three men down. Theodore was one of them.” A lone tear travelled down your cheek, “It was difficult grieving my husband and caring for our daughter.”

Luke’s gasp was audible, “Are you a ghost?”

“No.” You told the seventeen-year-old guitarist, “I’ve been nineteen for the last 83 years.”

“Eighty-three years?!” Reggie exclaimed completely taken aback blinking fast to take it in, “Did you find a fountain of youth? Some special French creams?”

“Reg, shut up.” Alex elbowed the raven-haired teenager in the side with an apologetic smile, “I’d apologize and say he isn’t normally like this…but you know us too well.”

“It’s alright Alex,” You told the drummer fiddling with his ring as you returned back to Reggie, “It was storming in 1938, but I had promised to meet my parents and Rosie at the cabin. Visibility got worse, and I fishtailed right off the road into the ravine. I’m not sure the science but I know I died, and then I woke up.”

“This so weird,” Luke mumbled listening intently to the story with wide eyes that quickly matched his friends.

“Believe it’s shocking when your daughter graduates from college with her mother looking younger than her.” The bitter chuckle couldn’t be held back, remembering it as the first time you were retitled as Rosie’s sister.

“I just got used to being a ghost.” Alex sighed, settling into the armchair to the left of the couch. Luke sat on the couch next to you while Reggie took the armchair across from Alex.

As the sun rose higher and began to set, you enthralled the teenagers with stories of your long life. Luke was the most interested in the music you have seen evolve over the course of time, and the musicians you had met. In telling them stories, it allowed you to step out of the dark abyss of your mind.

“Freddie Mercury?” Luke asked from the other cherry red Adirondack chair turned to see you in the matching one.

“I had coffee with him in a little hole in the wall coffee shop in New York. He loved whip cream, but he didn’t like the dairy they used. The shop is now a Starbucks.”

The giggle escaped at Luke’s look of absolute awe, “That’s so rad.”

“Rad. Haven’t heard that in a long time.” The sparkle for sure would have sent Luke’s heart thudding like Alex’s drumming in Now or Never; if it still beat that is.

“…so do you think people can fall in love more than once?” Luke had been very undecided in asking the question. Everyone around could tell he felt something for you so unlike any other relationship.

You kissed your teeth, thinking about how to properly articulate your thoughts on such a heavy subject. It was clear that you felt something for the teenage ghost even if you had lived far longer than Luke had.

“I think it’s possible. Luke, I’ve lived a long time and while I’ll love Theodore for as long as I live that doesn’t mean I have been alone.” You revealed to the ghostly guitarist stepping back in a part of your history buried incredibly deep.

“The way you were torn up made me think-“

“I’ll always mourn Theodore, I had a year, and that was never enough. I worked as a midwife in England in the late 1960s.”

Poplar, London, England circa 1960s

The blonde-haired bombshell marched her way through the crowded Poplar district in London scanning the late-night Christmas shoppers. Beatrix, Trixie to her friends, had a young mother a mere street away. The only available midwife to help her happened to be off duty shopping for gifts.

Trixie was thankful for the American accent that distinguished the midwife from the crowd, pointing her towards a store window. Your eyes dragged away from the lovely young mother giving her thanks for delivering her baby a few months prior.

“Trixie!” You beamed, revealing a white smile that lit up your pretty eye colour. Trixie’s anxious expression dropped the smile, however, “Is something wrong?”

“Jenny Turner is in labour. Tom is with her right now, but I need help. Everyone is further away.”

In seconds you had pulled the charcoal cape secured by the bands crisscrossing your shoulders to properly rest. The cloak had armholes with material covering the holes, no sleeves seen. The cape covered the plain light blue nurse uniform with the white-collar and the maroon red cardigan.

Trixie led you to the small apartment housing twenty-one-year-old, Jenny, with Reverend Tom Hereward waiting. This would be Jenny’s second child with her husband Roger leaving the midwife’s nervous after her first pregnancy.

“Hello, Jenny.” You spoke stepping closer to the woman, “Trixie said you requested my presence.”

“You delivered my first baby. I want you here, Roger a county away for work.” Jenny heavily spoke as a contraction ended, “I’m not due for two weeks.”

“Baby Turner is too excited to meet their big brother.” You soothed settling beside the young mother, “You’re in great hands with Trixie. You are close to the hospital and the clinic if you’d prefer to move.”

“No. I want to stay.” Jenny was sure of that, at least. Her hand left yours to clench the white bedsheets as a contraction clenched her midsection.

“Then I’ll be right here with you.”

It was a promise you kept as Trixie delivered a healthy baby girl appreciating your help when you cleaned the baby. Trixie helped Jenny deliver the afterbirth and clean up the room just in time for Jenny’s mother to enter the room.

“I came as soon as I could.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Jenny spoke with a small tired smile. The smile that made the job worth watching babies being born, of family’s growing.

Tom was waiting outside in the living room as you exited the bathroom. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the Reverend Hereward waiting for you with his patient smile and a tender look in his blue gaze.

“How is Jenny?” Tom asked, holding the door to the street open.

“Tired after delivering Cynthia. Cynthia is an eight-pound baby with no complications. Thank you for praying Tom.”

“Trixie informed me of Jenny’s first pregnancy, and I felt like I was needed. Do you happen to be free tomorrow night?” Tom asked, linking his fingers in yours with a smile that almost looked nervous.

“I am.” You responded as Tom walked you to Nonnatus House where the unmarried midwives resided. You stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “Good night Tom.”

“I’ll meet you at the park,” Tom responded, waiting patiently as you entered the building before he turned on his heel to head to his residence. Unknown to him, you peered down from your bedroom window as he pulled something out of his pocket.

A small box housing a ring he would propose with the very next night. A ring that broke your heart. A ring that you’d never see up close as you handed in your resignation and left England as quickly as possible.

Luke’s invested gaze shuttered as you revealed you had run away before Tom could propose because it could never happen.

“He was going to propose, and you didn’t say goodbye?”

“I don’t know if I could have said no when he asked. I wish I knew what I would have said, but it was unfair. How could Tom, as a Reverend, accept that his fiancée or wife would never grow old? It went against everything he believed in.” You countered with a raised eyebrow, “He married the midwife that was hired a year after I left. Barbara Gilbert. Trixie sent me the letter.”

Luke’s perceptive eyes caught the tinge of sadness in your gaze recalling the second man you had loved. You loved with your whole heart and with that came a lot of heartbreak.

“Do you keep in contact with them?”

“I send a letter to Trixie every once in a while, to check up on her. She married a few years after I left and had a few children. I believe she had a step-daughter.”

Luke’s mouth went to open before a flash of light, and a slight gasp was heard from the blonde drummer. His eyebrows raised as the close proximity between his best friend and his new friend. He shook it off as he turned to face Luke fully.

“Did you forget? We have a gig.” Alex spoke amused as Luke’s eyes widened theatrically vividly recalling the excitement in Julie’s eyes.

You waved the duo off to disappear in a ball of light to the gig they had for the night while you entered your home. You didn’t hear Alex make a comment that Luke couldn’t deny.

“You’ve fallen for her,” Alex spoke just outside the coffee shop that housed the record execs with the power to change their afterlife. The quirk of a smile sealed Alex’s opinion of the girl.

Content to spend your time in the house you retreated to the kitchen. Your hand slipped into your pocket for the phone that had few contacts such as Rosie and Julie’s along with the number of Rosie’s doctor. Mostly pictures of Rosie and landscapes but never your face, not after the 1953 incident.

Living next door to the Molina’s you often shared recipes with Ray, he had taken you under his wing. He felt empathetic with the young neighbour he saw you as a daughter almost, unaware that it would the other way around. You had years on the widowed father.

The wooden spoon stirred the sizzling stir-fry that had been a fixture in raising a rambunctious little girl interested in skinny her knees. The stir-fry was the quickest meal while Rosie played outside or in the little play corner with her dolls. It seemed like the world knew when your phone rang.

“Hello, darling.” You spoke securing the phone between your neck and shoulder, “Did you teach Gladys poker?”

The silence was stifling, “Is this Y/N Y/L/N?”

A cold sweat broke out as the unfamiliar voice came from Rosie’s cell phone roused the deep-seated fear of loss. The wooden spoon in your hand clattered on the tile flooring of the modest-sized kitchen.

“Your grandmother Rosemary Prescott tripped over a cane. You’re her emergency contact.”

“Has she been admitted to the hospital? How extensive are her injuries? Let me get a pen and grab the address.” You rambled frantically scouring the kitchen for the notepad, “Was she alone?”

“She’s still being seen by the doctor, and I’m unable to reveal the details over the phone. Her friend Gladys was there, and she hasn’t left your grandma’s side.” The person responded in an even tone with the failed intention of soothing you.

“What’s the address?”

“I’m a nurse at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital and Trauma Center.” The nurse prattled off, providing the address and visiting hours.

As soon as the call ended, you had quickly grabbed a quick bite from the meal before packaging it up. Next, you dug out the small suitcase to pack the essentials with the mental capacity of a zombie. The bag was stowed in the backseat of the car while you kept your purse on your shoulder.

You barely comprehended knocking on the Molina door or Ray opening it, “Hello Y/N.”

“Ray. Tonight, I made stir-fry, I’ll be out of town for a few days.” You told the man catching sight of both Carlos and Julie in the background.

“Are you okay?” Ray questioned taking the container from your shaking hands, “Do you need us to do anything?”

“Could I have a h-hug?” You stuttered feeling a smidge better than the older man tugged you in for a hug. Two pairs of arms joined with the Molina kids ambushing you.

“You’re coming back, right?” The question came from the concerned hazel-eyed guitarist watching the interaction with a particular look. A look he knew came from not being able to comfort you.

“I’ll be back once I know Rosie is okay.” You replied, locking eyes with Luke over Ray’s shoulder earning a tender smile from the male.

“I’ll pray for your Grandma,” Ray spoke, stepping back to let both Julie and Carlos say their goodbyes to their neighbour. Everyone but Carlos and Ray half-heartedly smirking at Ray’s belief that Rosie was older than you.

Unlike typical times you didn’t linger in the Molina home with the distracted thoughts of Rosie injured with her mother with her. Rosie is the only thing you would drop anything for, the love of a mother and her child. So distracted by your thoughts you didn’t notice Luke had appeared right beside you.

“Are you driving?” Luke asked, tapping his shoe on the porch step, bringing your sad eyes to meet his, “Or are you taking a plane?”

“A plane. It’s a five-hour drive to San Francisco from here not taking in traffic time. I bought a last-minute ticket.” You replied, heading straight for the car with Luke hot on your heels to the vintage car.

Half of you wanted to refuse his evident intention to join you, but a part of you yearned for the comfort. A stroke of luck had a plane seat beside yours empty, time didn’t exist, but it dragged on at the same time. So lost in thoughts you never noticed the brush on a pinkie on your skin.

While you stared off in the distance, Luke’s jaw was dropped at the silky feel of your skin. Words bubbled up his throat just before he knew it wasn’t the right time to bring it up. Instead, he chose different words to regale you with stories of his childhood.

“I begged for a dog when I was eight years old. Reggie had this golden retriever his family had before he was born. My dad was allergic in the end, so I was content with Reggie’s dog.” Luke spoke, “That didn’t mean I didn’t sneak in this stray one night. We kept him in the garage while we found him a forever home.”

“What was his name?”

“Fender.” Luke sheepishly spoke, catching the tweak of your smile as the clouds in your eyes cleared for a few minutes. Luke loved being able to ease your mind through the flight, not holding back on the embarrassing stories either.

“Thank you.” You told the easy natured teenager with a familiar flutter in your chest that terrified you.

You could name only one other time you had felt that flutter when everything was easy. 1936 with a man you thought would be your one and only. Feeling something that strong for a ghost was incredibly scary.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Luke asked just outside the closed hospital door, separating you from your daughter. Your lips parted to deny his question but you couldn’t so you simply shook your head.

“Come in!” The voice was prompt after knocking on the door. Opening the door, you found Rosie’s grinning in her bed with Gladys at her side, scolding her.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” Gladys spoke shuffling by you out of the door with a quick hug. The second Gladys closed the door, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Rosemary Elspath Prescott. What were you thinking?” You crossed your arms walking closer to Rosie, “You know your ankle hasn’t been the same-“

“-since I shattered during a cheer comp in college. Mama, I know. It was an accident.” Rosie softly spoke just before her gaze met Luke’s with fear planted squaring in her blue gaze. Luke’s lips parted, “He knows?”

“Oh.” Luke blinked at the sudden new change in his afterlife with Rosie actually seeing him, “I’m Luke.”

“This is going to sound craz-“

“Mama, you’ve been nineteen for over eight decades. I think we’ve hit the crazy already, tell me. Before I get a bad heart.” Rosie joked with that twinkle you saw countless times over the years.

The first time you saw it was when you found her on the counter at age two when she learned how to climb. Other times included her sneaking out to a senior party with her friends and the teasing she started when she got her first grey hair.

“You better have taken our discussion about your salt intake serious young lady.” You pointed at her mere seconds before your shoulders dropped. You leaned down to kiss the crown of her head, “Luke’s a ghost.”

Rosie’s lips parted, staring down the boy before whispering very softly in your ear, “Well. At least he doesn’t age. You look happy with him Mama, I’m not getting any younger, and he’s really cute.”

“Don’t talk like that.” The low response came out broken at the horrible future where you would bury Rosie.

A cold hand landed on your waist as you stretched to place an ornament on the tree you chose with Luke. The wire hugged the branch a ghost of a kiss pressed against your cheek, a moment of quiet in the loud house. Reggie and Alex had been baking cookies with Rosie for the last two hours. Julie was finishing her family dinner at her home before she would come over.

“Merry Christmas,” Luke murmured tugging you in his chest. A flutter of butterflies moving in your tummy.

Once Rosie had been discharged from the hospital, she had been convinced to temporarily move to Los Angeles. For the first time since Rosie’s senior year in high school, you got to live with her. Subtlety had never been her strong suit with nagging you and Luke about getting together.

“Merry Christmas.” You replied, stretching to peck his lips once before cuddling into his chest with the thick sweater.

“Would you like a cookie…Dad.” Rosie teased, bringing a tray into the living room with the gooey chocolate chips.

Another revelation other than being able to touch the boys was that once Julie saved them from Caleb, they could eat small quantities. They couldn’t eat a lot, and they didn’t need it, but it was a comfort to the group.

“That’s so weird.” Alex chortled, taking in the shocked and uncomfortable expression Luke had. Reggie beamed with a mouthful of cookie. This was the first Christmas the boys had surrounded by only acceptance, love, and untainted happiness.

“How about we stick to Luke?” Rosie chuckled just as weirded out by the odd age gap and the forever youth the couple displayed.

While Rosie interacted with the arrival of both Flynn and Julie, you curled into Luke’s embrace taking in the room. Julie and Flynn listened to the rebellious stories Rosie carried. Alex had retreated to the kitchen with a guy with shoulder-length brunette hair. Reggie was involved in a conversation with Ray; another unexplained phenomenon after the Orpheum.

Your eyes found the mantle with the picture of Theodore and you. Right beside it a lovely photo with Luke dipping you in a kiss and besides that picture was the very last picture of Luke with his parents. How lucky you had been in the years you had lived to end up with a chosen family.

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