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meirathinks · 3 years

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you can tell something that sounds like it

Suguru Geto x reader.

warnings: it’s angst :(( maybe some grammar mistakes?

geto has never lied to you. You tell yourself that he does.

(based off the song happy news for sadness)

╬╬═════════════╬╬

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

At least, that’s what you told yourself. You'd repeat it over and over, the sick mantra failing to provide any sort of comfort. The dread had slithered from the end of your tongue to the base of your throat and finally cemented itself behind your ribcage: snuggly against your heart.

At first, Geto's presence was warm. His fingertips would dance along your jawline after particularly draining missions, butterfly kisses and the soft flutter of your pulse would follow shortly after. You would look at him with so much endearment. Doe eyes casting a hazy look in his direction while he continued to exchange soft touches for attention.

It was springtime; the nights were supposed to be frosted over. But, as your eyesight shifted from the condensation on the window accentuated by the soft glow of the lamp in Suguru's dorm, you noticed that you'd trade anything to forever feel the way you're feeling now. Geto held himself in a unique way, he was strong, but it differed from Gojo's arrogance. Geto was one of the strongest but he hardly paraded that fact; he instead used that fact to make you feel safe.

You hummed against his throat at the thought, Geto is your protector.

He breathed into your forehead pressing phantom kisses into your skin while sitting on his bed with you. You leaned into his chest while recovering from the latest mission, civilians were injured but none were killed. Still, Geto was ashamed that non-sorcerers had to be involved in such dangerous affairs in the first place.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

He moved to tug tightly at your hair, urging you to look up at him. His slightly swollen lips parted and shut as if looking for the appropriate thing to say. Geto relented, choosing to ignore the seeds of doubt threatening to be sown.

"You know, I won't let anyone hurt you." His calloused hand moved to squeeze your arm, the condensation dripped down the window.

Suguru is strong. He is your protector.

II.

Geto left. And all that replaced him was the wide-eyed gaze only piteous adults knew. Gentle squeezes on your shoulder and whispering that followed wherever you went.

You were ashamed. His promises that had once left you satisfied had proven to be hollow. His righteousness never wavered.

A voice had tugged at the corner of your mind the day you heard of what had happened in the village. Geto was good, he wanted to see people safe; if you had the chance to confront him you knew he wouldn’t change.

The drip, drip, drip, of your bathroom faucet, prompted you to focus on your reflection above the sink. Hot tears made their way down your cheeks, laboured breaths reverberated in the small space.

Geto would hug you, he'd tell you everything was okay.

Then he'd say he'd protect you.

You smiled at the thought of his domesticity, imagining his hand holding yours, missing the way his thumb would draw circles on the back of your hand.

The faucet continued to drip as you met your own gaze once again.

Dread filled your lungs

Geto killed 100s of people.

Geto always lies.

III.

There was a sharp pound at your door; hollow and calculated. Confusion invaded your senses, today was your day off, no one came to visit you anymore.

Nostalgia racked your body. Back in high school, your dorm was always unlocked, a sort of safe space for your classmates to come and go. Jujutsu tech was a warzone plagued with hopeless violence and your room seemed to be representative of the humanity of your colleagues. Neutral, kind, loving.

Gojo never knocked.

Shoko knocked three times.

And Geto was always four.

Another knock could be heard at your door.

You laughed at yourself for the little piece of hope you had felt. At the fact that you longed to see a murderer again. Maybe it would be Gojo instead? Willfully eating a candy bar while he waited impatiently outside the door of your home.

But Gojo never knocks.

A pounding could be heard at your door once more.

Your spirits lifted— Shoko had come to visit! You had missed her presence and humour, in a way, her spiral was worse than Geto’s. Everyone was convinced that the dark circles under her eyes were going to become a long-term predicament. But, when confronted about her exhaustiveness, a half-drunk Ieiri would always comment on how she was too busy to rest. Nonetheless, Shoko was the only other sorcerer who knew your address.

But no one ever visits.

One more knock.

Your blood ran cold, leaving an icy residue in your veins, your heart was beating in your throat. The absence of the knock hung in the air, your anxiety, your insecurity, your deep-rooted hope that he'd come back to explain had buzzed in its place.

You got up to walk to your door, as your hand lifted to unlock it, you waited.

Just one more. I need to prove it.

Suguru knocked one final time, you opened it as quickly as he expected you would. You wanted him to see the shame that ran deep in your eyes. Though, you hadn't felt the way that you were required to feel as a jujutsu sorcerer.

He met your gaze. You felt your heartbeat hiccup. Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt some sort of emotion bubble up at the base of your chest. Fear, disgust, hope.

"It's been 4 years, Geto."

Suguru grinned softly, a shiny film had covered his eyes. He took a gentle breath.

"Have I mentioned how I've thought about you every day for four years?"

IV.

In his final days at Jujutsu Tech, Geto was a shell of himself. Though he'd always eat the food you presented him in an attempt to curb your worries, you knew his appetite ran thin when he was left to his own devices.

Now, as he stood in your home's kitchen expertly cooking dinner for the both of you for what seemed the umpteenth time, you noticed how much he looked like himself. His hair was as gorgeous as ever (though admittedly longer), he still closed his eyes when he smiled, he still ran his thumb against the back of your hand when he held it.

Yet, he seemed so much happier.

At first, this had prompted anger. Someone like him didn't deserve to feel the joy he displayed.

Geto was a criminal, after all.

The hands of a criminal would cup your cheek and run up and down your back. His criminal voice would hum soft tunes to you in between philosophical conversations in the later hours of the night. His criminal eyes would cast the softest, most loving gaze in your direction. Geto's criminal, cold-blooded, self would whisper I love you over and over again into the crook of your neck until he fell asleep.

And you allowed him to.

You allowed him to look at the civilians with a horrifying disgust, one that sharply contrasted with his previous drive to protect everyone. You watched as his endearing expression would turn to a scowl whenever he talked about them. He'd use a distasteful nickname for non-sorcerers.

"Dirty Monkeys."

You had made sure your voice had matched the iciness of his own as you responded, "Don't use that phrase near me again."

He made a clear effort to exclude all ideological rhetoric from your conversations soon after.

The same voice that pestered you that there was still hope for Suguru had turned against him. It was ironic more than anything, the both of you could never win this sick and twisted game.

The slam of a knife against a chopping board had woken you up from your daydream. You looked up. Eyes scanning the figure of the criminal you had come to love. It was an illicit romance, one between a Jujutsu sorcerer and a cursed user. A romance between two people with differing beliefs.

You took a deep breath, the knife on the chopping board slowed as Getou turned to look at you. His brows were furrowed.

"Is everything okay?"

Your lips formed a tight-lipped smile, tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up to his face from your spot on the kitchen counter.

"Suguru," you swallowed, "we were never supposed to last this long, you know."

You watched his throat bob.

"I'm well aware."

You smiled up at him, a genuine one, twinged with melancholy, "Then you'll understand why I'm asking you to leave."

He nodded silently inching closer to your sitting figure. His hot breath tickled your face, testing the waters. You didn't know what to expect out of the kiss at this moment Maybe rough? Like the late nights you'd spend together after he practically barrelled through the front door, fuming about the day he had just had. Or passionate? You imagined a kiss with sloppy whispers and late apologies said in between the moments you took to catch your breath.

He grabbed your chin in his pointer finger and thumb, he urged your teary eyes to look into his. His lips met yours and he was not passionate, nor was he rough. You didn't see stars, you only felt him.

Geto was soft.

He pulled away, his eyes avoided your own as he breathed softly while taking in your figure one last time.

A sigh could be heard while he moved to the coat rack near your front door. You continued to sit stupidly on the kitchen counter, watching the abandoned knife and vegetables lay limp against the wood of the chopping board.

You heard the shifting of fabric as Geto maneuvered his coat on, "Call me if you need anything."

Suguru's eyes were downcast as he continued, "I love you."

You felt your throat go dry as it bobbed; Suguru closed the door as softly as he could on his way out.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

You never called him.

Gojo leaned against the wall of the hallways in Jujutsu tech, as he awaited your response.

He quickly grew impatient.

"I said I killed him." You hummed in response, you'd like to imagine that you looked indifferent. You wouldn't let yourself cry, not in front of Gojo, not because of Suguru.

"He had it coming." You willed yourself to say.

As you turned to continue your journey down the hallway, Gojo beckoned you to turn around with a scoff.

"One more thing," He lifted his blindfold to meet your eyes.

"He told me he loved you."

You let out a dry laugh, your fingernails were digging crescents into your palms, "Of course he did."

You walked down the empty hallway, leaving Gojo to his own thoughts. Heavy breaths could be heard as you attempted to calm yourself down. Why would Geto say that?

Then you remembered.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #gojo satoru #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #shoko ieiri #yuji itadori #fushiguro megumi #self indulgent #getou suguru

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sotheywrotestories · 3 years

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The They Them Agenda

Request;

you know it :) maybe an enby reader x bucky? He's really confused by their pronouns and some fluffy explanation? ooooo or their first time sleeping in the same bed and maybe mentions of a binder and explaining what that is?

- @mad-malory

(Sorry this was so late)

Pairings; Bucky x Nonbinary Reader

Warnings; None, although there are mentions of a chest binder :)

***

Bucky grew up in a different time. Not that he necessarily had a hard time adjusting to modern times, but he wasn’t caught up with all the dynamics of the world.

Which is why he always thought (Y/N) was a group of people the Avengers out before Steve introduced them to Bucky.

“Buck, this is (Y/N), they’re from our downtown office,” Steve presented (Y/N) to Bucky, who, in fact, was only one person.

“Hi…nice to meet you,” Bucky grimaced. Not because (Y/N) had given him any reason to, but because he was so awkward.

“Hi, Bucky!” (Y/N) reached their hand out to Bucky. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Steve talks about you all the time.” 

Bucky tried to let his genuine smile come through this time.

“Likewise…I was under the impression that you were a group..but you know how Steve is,” Bucky huffed a bit.

(Y/N) gave Bucky a rather strange look. One of those “no-I-don’t-really-get-what-you-mean” looks.

“Right…well, I’m gonna go move in.” (Y/N) turned to Steve. “Thanks for letting me stay here while we rebuild, Stevie.”

(Y/N) gave one last smile to Bucky, then went on their way.

“Buck, ask (Y/N) about their pronouns when you have the chance,” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “It took some getting used to, don’t worry.”

Bucky was even more confused. Not only was (Y/N) not a group of people, but now Bucky had to have them give him a grammar lesson? He knew he was old but it’s not like he forgot everything he learned way back when.

It must’ve read on his face.

“Trust me, Buck. Things are different now, people are different now. I don’t want you to accidentally hurt anyone just because you don’t know what’s going on.”

***

Bucky heard everyone in the tower refer to (Y/N) as if they were more than one person. Bucky wondered if there was some joke that he just wasn’t let in on.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Bucky smiled at (Y/N).

It wasn’t often that Bucky and (Y/N) really got to interact, they were both very busy.

(Y/N) spent most of their time studying and working from their room. Bucky liked to spend most of his time not being around people for as long as he could. So to see (Y/N) in the kitchen made him very excited.

“Morning, Buck! How have you been doing?”

“I’ve been good. Really good. I’ve been going to therapy.”

Why in the world would he share that with someone he’s interacted with once?

“I’m so good to hear that, Buck! I’m really proud of you.”

It sounded so earnest Bucky almost didn’t know what to do with himself. It wasn’t often people actually cared about what Bucky had to say. Nonetheless, someone he barely knew.

“I um..thank you.”

The pair shared a smile and (Y/N) went back to their tablet.

“Oh,” Bucky started. “Steve told me I needed to ask you about your…nouns.”  (Y/N) laughed a bit but still smiled at Bucky anyway.

“My pronouns,” (Y/N) gestured for Bucky to take a seat. “My pronouns are different than something you might be used to.”

“What do you mean.” Bucky took a seat.

“Well,” (Y/N) took a big sigh. “You know there’s she and he.”

(Y/N) paused and Bucky assumed he was meant to nod. He did.

“I’m not him or her. Gender is much more flexible now than it was when you were growing up. I use ‘they/them ‘ pronouns because I’m non-binary. Not all non-binary people use ‘they/them’, some use other pronouns and some people use Neo-pronouns.”

Bucky was trying to understand. He truly was. He was always much more accepting than anyone he ever knew back in the ’40s. It wasn’t that he thought there was something wrong with it, it was just that he didn’t understand. How couldn’t you be a boy or a girl?

“I…don’t get it,” he said with a small smile. “Were you born that way?” 

(Y/N) gave Bucky a thoughtful look.

Great. He’s done something wrong.

“Gender-wise? Yes, I was born this way. I’ve been non-binary as long as I’ve been alive. Not everyone is like that. Some people discover that they’re non-binary later in their life.”

That didn’t clarify anything.

“I should preface that your gender and your biological sex are two different things.”

Oh.

Oh oh oh.

So they weren’t talking about- oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) laughed. “My gender identity is different than the sex I was assigned at birth. But- even today, you CAN change your sex to fit who you really are.”

Bucky knew a little bit about someone being transgender, it was in the crash course Steve gave him when he really started adjusting to new life in modern times.

“Right. But your gender and sex aren’t the same things.”

“Well…,” (Y/N) heaved a sigh. “Sometimes it is, some people do let their gender and sex define each other. It really depends. That’s why it’s always best to ask someone what their pronouns are before perceiving them in any way.”

It made a little bit of sense.

“So you’re not a she or a he, you’re they,” Bucky said.

“Yes. So you know…gender-neutral. I just don’t feel comfortable being perceived as a man or as a woman, I’d rather be perceived as neither.”

“Got it. So that’s why everyone refers to you as they,” Bucky nodded.

It wasn’t a hard concept to grasp that “they” could be used in a singular term.

“Thank you for telling me,” Bucky smiled. “Sorry if I slip up and call you something else, I’ll do my best.”

“Well, thank you for listening,” (Y/N) smiled. “I look forward to working with you.”

***

Working with (Y/N) turned into hanging out with (Y/N) every minute of every day. They were so easy to be around. Hanging out with (Y/N) turned into sleepovers with (Y/N), which quickly turned into a very confusing ordeal.

They had shared a bed with Bucky before, but never when the weather had been so ungodly hot.   Tony messed up something in the wiring and now the ac wasn’t working.

“Bucky,” (Y/N) whined, drawing out the y. “Let me use your arm it’s too hot.”

“(N/N), you’ve been hugging on my arm all day, it’s not cold anymore,” Bucky laughed. “Give it some time cool off.”

(Y/N) huffed and flopped down onto the bed.

“You’ve forced my hand, Barnes, I have to remove my clothes.”

Bucky felt his face heat up. A lot.

“You’ve caught me in m master plan,” Bucky threw his hand over his face. “I really just want to see you naked.”

“Psh- men.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Do you mind if I take off my clothes?” 

Bucky gulped. “Do you? Mind? Not mine. Yours. Do you mind. Like- if I see. Would you mind? I don’t mind. I really don’t. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you do mind-“

“Bucky. I don’t mind,” (Y/N) smiled. “I’ll just take off my shirt.”

Taking off their shirt, (Y/N) exposed a nude-colored strap wrapped around their body.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky exclaimed.

The piece of clothing looked very similar to the skin-color wrappings Helen would give the team when they were hurt. It’s the only time Bucky had seen anything else like it.

“No…?” (Y/N) gave Bucky a weird look. “Oh, oh no. This is my binder.”

“Binder?”  “It’s…part of being the whole non-binary thing. I’m…I really hate the way my chest looks, but I don’t really want to get surgery on it, so I wear something super tight to make my chest seem flatter than it is.”

Bucky was starting to understand that it was anything related to gender that (Y/N) didn’t like. He never thought about its physical attributes.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Sorry if I drew attention to it.”

“It’s fine, Buck,” (Y/N) smiled. “I should’ve warned you, I can see what it looks like to you.” 

Bucky was grateful (Y/N) was so patient with him while he was learning more about people being non-binary. He truly wanted to understand everything about them before he made a move on them. Though, every time he thought he knew everything, (Y/N) has to teach him something new.

“Hey, Buck? Everything okay?” (Y/N) moved closer to Bucky. “I lost you there.”  “I just…feel so bad that you have to teach me so much,” Bucky plopped down on the bed. “It’s not your responsibility to have to teach me everything.”

(Y/N) gave him a soft smile and brushed his hair out of his face.

“I wouldn’t teach you if I thought you didn’t care. I can tell you care, that’s why I teach you so much.”

They can tell that he cares?

“You can tell?”  (Y/N) gave him the softest look he’s ever seen. “Buck, you’re easier to read than you think. I’ve been waiting on you.”

“I wanted to know everything before I made a move-“

“Why would you put that pressure on yourself, Buck?” (Y/N) sighed. “You’re never going to know everything about everything there is to know, neither will I!”

“But it’s your thing! It’s your identity!”  “And it’s always changing and there are always new things to learn. I appreciate the thought, Buck, it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. But you can’t put that weight on your shoulders.”

As if (Y/N) couldn’t get any more perfect.

“So…,” Bucky trailed off.

“So…make a move you goofus,” (Y/N) smiled.

And maybe he did.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #barnes x reader #bucky x nonbinary reader #marvel x reader #nonbinary reader

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raelly-writing · 3 years

Text

Little Secrets - Thancred/WoL

Post-5.5. Silly little bit of fluff I’ve had lying around in my WIP folder since before 5.3. :)

---

The Rising Stones lay still and quiet as Thancred made his way through its hallways. Not that it was unexpected at this hour - either it was far too late in the night or too early in the morning for many souls aside for the town guards to be awake.

At least the others out in the field had been faring well when he’d checked in with them, despite their less than pleasant task of intercepting any further attempts to bring captives to the towers. Sure, he could have checked in via linkpearl, but after the chaos out in Pagl’than, it’d seemed prudent to get a feeling for the situation elsewhere.

Well, he could convene with Riol and Alphinaud in the morning, Thancred thought as he took the steps up the stairs to the sleeping quarters in twos. Despite his long travel and the late - or early - hour, he felt rather energetic.

Or perhaps it was the thought of slinking into Viana’s room and just catching a few precious hours of sleep with her after several days apart that put a slight spring in his step. Between his time away in Garlemald, and leaving again to see how the situation at the other towers were, he looked forward to the comforting warmth of her body curled up next to his as he slept. In the dark, still corridor, his quiet huff of laughter at himself seemed far louder than it was. It would have been a hard thing to believe once that he’d be eager to slip into his lover’s bed, just for the simple pleasure of sleeping by their side.

Nevermind that there were no fears of entanglement driving him from leaving said bed early, that he was content and secure in this bond between them that kept him by her side - that he could allow himself to have this simple happiness in his life, despite those moments where he felt it was something he had not yet earned, and those familiar, dark voices whispered to him that she would one day realise that he was not fit for her.

With a shake of his head, he fished out the spare key she had given him from his inner coat pocket and quietly unlocked her door. Her chamber lay silent as he slipped inside and closed the door behind him, bathed in the low light of the lantern left burning on her desk.

Too silent, in fact.

A small frown creased his brow as he quietly stepped deeper into the room and looked around the ornate Far Eastern wood screen that customarily partitioned off her bed from the rest of the room.

The piles of pillows and blankets were untouched, the covers still neatly tucked in. No one had slept in that bed tonight.

Thancred felt a small but potent pang of disappointment. Most likely she had been called off somewhere on an urgent matter, as was wont to happen.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it - guess he was sleeping in his own bed tonight. Tataru and Alphinaud would tell him in the morning where she’d gone, he was sure. Sighing, he reached out to turn off the lantern, when he caught sight of her gunblade lying on her desk with its maintenance kit beside it. Thancred stopped at once, a curious frown back on his features. Looking around he found her katana sitting on its customary stand and her axe hanging off a pair of hooks on the wall by her wardrobe.

“What the-?” he murmured to himself. She wouldn’t have left without any of her weapons.

Just then, there was the sound of a key turning in the lock, followed by a dull thud as someone on the other side pushed their weight against the door. A pause. Then the sound of it once more unlocking.

“Seven Hells, I swear that I locked-” Viana froze the moment she saw him, her eyes going almost comically wide in surprise.

Thancred’s eyebrows rose as he took in her appearance, the surprise he felt not mitigating the heat that instantly crawled up the back of his neck. A dark leather corset hugged her body, with familiar looking bits of gold jewelry twinkling in the low light like little stars against the dark blue cloth of her dress.

A moment of silence stretched out between them.

Clearing his throat, he smiled and gestured towards her. “Were I to check the hallway, would I find Urianger knocked out and robbed off his usual adornments?”

Viana’s shoulders, bared by the cut of the dress, sagged when she exhaled. “Funny,” she replied dryly while she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, turning the lock. Tall boots covered her legs, though even in the dim light of the room he could see the tantalising glimpse of bare skin at her thigh.

He tried not to let his eyes linger, but it was hard not to let his gaze wander and soak in her unusual appearance, used as he was to her in full armour or just lighter shirts and trousers. This was… extravagant, by comparison. “People have on occasion accused me of such feats,” he quipped.

Pausing, she gave him a shy, uncertain look while still lingering by the door. He was not meant to have seen her like this, he realised. Only once, long ago, had he seen her carry herself in such an apprehensive manner - at the banquet that had been held after the Grand Melee in Ishgard. But there were no crowds of gossiping nobles present now to watch her every move.

Thancred gave her a reassuring smile as he took a couple of slow steps forward. “So, do you mind me asking what this is about?” He had an inkling but...

Viana tensed up, and he nearly told her that she did not have to if so was her wish, but then she sighed and procured from behind her the folded together metal rings that appeared to have been suspended from one of the chains around her waist. “I suppose you’d find out sooner or later,” she said quietly as she took a few steps to close the distance between them.

With a touch of aether, the slender rings flared to life and hovered above her palm - a familiar sight, though hers lacked the intricate decorations of Urianger’s. The bracelets on her arm tinkled when she moved her arm over the astrolabe, her face set in a look of concentration.

Briefly, the room was illuminated by a surge of aether, and then a soothing sensation washed over Thancred, like a gentle whisper of the softest silk over his bare skin that swept away the weariness in his limbs. Rejuvenating magic, tinted with the warm, familiar feeling of her aether.

“I made the mistake of voicing some curiosity about astrology to Urianger while we were dealing with Eden.” The corner of her mouth curled with a crooked smile. “And I fear he took it as a personal challenge to teach me.”

“Ah, a grave mistake indeed,” Thancred chuckled. “Give him an ilm and he’ll take a yalm.”

Shrugging, she eyed the slowly spinning astrolabe with a small, thoughtful smile. “It’s been… interesting to learn though.” Her gaze flickered back to him. “I’ll probably never take this out in the field. I’m barely good enough to heal a minor cut, but I do genuinely appreciate the effort and time he’s put toward this. He’s a good teacher. Very patient with me.”

Thancred’s expression softened. He knew her lack of an education was a sore spot for her, and that she often felt like her non-existent grasp of magical theory made her less of use than the rest of them - that, as per her own jest, her sole contribution to any given problem was to take a beating and punch the issue until it either went away or one of them solved it. Gratitude towards Urianger for taking her under his wing tugged at his heart, along with a content pride in her efforts to learn. Even if Thancred himself thought that she hardly had anything to prove to them, in that regard. She was more than just a weapon. Reaching out, he took her free hand in his and brushed a quick kiss to the back of her fingers, below the rings that adorned them.

“I take it you were out studying the stars then,” he asked, recalling how Urianger would sometimes venture out into the fields of Il Mheg even when the blanket of Eternal Light had made it impossible to see the night sky.

Viana nodded and slipped her hand from his to caress his jaw. The scratch of his stubble made her smile widen a little, mirth dancing in her eyes. “Mm, his balcony has a good view of most of them. Otherwise we go up to one of the towers.”

With another wave of her hand, the astrolabe folded back up and she took a careful hold of it before walking past him to the same low cabinet upon which her katana stand stood. The soft light from the lantern caught on the gold chain hanging down between her shoulder blades. Focusing on it, he saw that another star pendant was dangling at its end, and that another, heftier chain was attached to the band around her upper arm. There was an itch in his fingers to slowly undo each clasp and tie, to loosen the corset hugging her body and unwrap her like a fine namesday gift.

“He’s been teaching me about the various constellations and how to draw on them,” she told him over her shoulder, unaware of how his eyes were following the chains looping around her waist, and the small blue gems hanging from them that sparkled like they were distant stars twinkling in the night sky. “Not sure how successful I’ve been at it though.”

She turned around and his gaze instantly snapped back up to her face. Clearing his throat, he nodded. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”

Viana shrugged sheepishly. “Perhaps. If nothing else I might be able to apply some of the theory to my gunbreaker barriers.” Her smile turned crooked, as humour sparked in her eyes. “And, I might not stand around and look like I just got clubbed over the head by Titan whenever a discussion turns theoretical in nature about aether balancing and all that stuff.”

“Ah, my dear, you’re hardly the only one who gets turned around by their theoretical debates.”

A soft peal of laughter made her shoulders shake as she walked back to him. “Well, I suppose I have Estinien as company in that regard, for now.” The knowing look she gave him made it clear that she knew he was obfuscating his own knowledge on the field, but instead of calling him out on it she merely leaned down and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re back,” she murmured.

Smiling, Thancred slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “I’m glad to be back.”

Viana leaned against him and brushed back his hair from his eyes. “Planning on staying for more than a day, this time?”

Immediately he felt the long journey catch up with him, and with a tired chuckle he nodded. “Unless the gods decide to suddenly turn the world upside down tomorrow, then yes, I am.”

Her smile brightened a little at once. “Good.” She leaned down and he eagerly met her in a slow kiss.

Thancred made a pleased noise at the back of his throat, his heart skipping a beat in joy at being back with her. The kiss was short and sweet, familiar and welcoming in tone.

Almost too short, he felt, when she straightened back up. Peering up at her, he felt curiosity tug at him once more as he thumbed what felt like a star shaped pendant. “Haven’t seen you in something like this before,” he murmured with a smile. “Well, aside from that dress at ser Aymeric’s banquet.”

A blush immediately crept up on her cheeks as she glanced away. “Ah, yes, I... asked Tataru for some more aether conductive gear,” she replied while tapping her fingers against his shoulders in a nervous manner. “Apparently she’d gotten her hands on some new patterns in Ishgard that she wanted to try out. Decided to kill two cloudkin with one rock, as it were.” The tilt of her smile turned a little self deprecating as she shrugged, “Can’t help but feel like her efforts were wasted on me.”

Raising a hand, he touched her chin to urge her to look back at him. Thancred held her gaze and let the levity drop from his voice when he responded, “You look stunning, darling.”

Viana’s eyes widened a fraction before her expression settled back into a bashful look. “Not exactly my usual style,” she murmured, her tone uncertain. “It seems a bit… frivolous, compared to my normal clothes.”

“Nothing wrong with a little frivolity, if that’s what you are in the mood for,” Thancred mused.

She pursed her lips with a thoughtful look, before leaning down and pressing another quick kiss to his mouth. “Well, thoughts for a later time I suppose. Mind helping me out of this?”

“Mm, that would be my pleasure,” he replied with a grin and gave her waist a squeeze.

#Thancred #Thancred Waters #ffxiv #thancred x wol #really just wanted to finish up something for myself today #My writing

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter thirty one: sets of twins

October thirteenth had come about and Sam knew for a fact that Joey was having a blast overseas in Germany. She pictured him with a big cake courtesy of one of the large luxurious bakeries over there that specialized in making cakes, and she knew he was to head off to bed that evening with his belly full of it as well as the dinner he so well chose.

Meanwhile, the arrival of the orange and red leaves on all of the trees made her think of the last days in which she and Cliff were together, right around that time in fact. A year ago. A year ago she had lost Cliff to the northern darkness and he became the hunter in the shadows left behind the aurora borealis. The walks to and from school only made the memory of him far more potent: but it was Joey's birthday when the reality of it all settled over her. Metallica had ascended into a whole other world of their own, but Joey and Anthrax remained right by her, right within arms' reach, just like the colors that changed on all of the trees around her.

The red and orange like the feathers decorated upon Joey's headdress.

She pictured him out front there on the stage with a little party hat upon his head much like Alex's birthday party, or perhaps he would wear one of those inside of his Indian headdress during their performance of “Indians”. The only drawback she saw with it however was that his birthday took place right smack in the middle of the week. Add to this, Sam, Marla, and Belinda didn't have a three day weekend like they so assumed would happen with Columbus Day.

“Go to school anyways,” Joey told her over the phone on the Thursday night before that weekend. “Make all the great art you possibly can for Monday. We need that great art of yours—all the red feathers and the Iroquois lore. The world needs that great art of yours.”

He then cleared his throat and sang to her in the softest, most gentlest voice she had ever heard him sing. She lay in bed all the while as well, and so when he sang to her, it almost felt as though he was singing her to sleep. Indeed, she nestled down in bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin as she held the cordless phone up to her ear. She pictured him laying in bed as well, complete with a cup of Mexican hot chocolate next to him. She smiled when he crooned the words, “Oh, Samantha” in a near whisper.

“That was so sweet,” she told him afterwards.

“That's the song I sang for my audition into Anthrax,” he explained, “it's called 'Oh, Sherrie', by Steve Perry from Journey. I just changed it to Samantha to kinda give it to ya and whatnot.”

“Aw.”

He then cleared his throat. “So any word on that big ass monolithic ginormous project you've got coming up?” “Nothing yet,” she explained, “although I'm supposed to meet up with Bill next Friday afternoon and talk it over more. At least I hope to get to see him. He told me he's going to pop into one of my classes just to watch me, but he never told me when it's supposed to happen.”

“Well, damn.”

They fell into silence for a seconds and then she spoke again.

“You know, I think you can actually come with me out to California,” she pointed out, “like—you know, we don't have to do the long distance. I might have to ask him about it because the whole thing about it being about school and whatnot. I say this because that was the mistake Cliff and I made. He didn't want to leave the Bay Area and I didn't want to leave New York, either. He actually got kind of defensive about it at one point. I remember that was one of the last things he and I talked about before Metallica left for their tour and we never fully finished it, either.”

“Wow, that sounds like there was a rift between you two,” Joey noted.

“I wouldn't necessarily say that,” Sam confessed as she slipped one hand underneath her pillow, right under her head. “But it was definitely something we couldn't address further than that, though. Cliff was so home grown with the Bay Area that it almost feels like a betrayal to him that he was killed in Scandinavia, somewhere that wasn't his home.”

“And if I'm honest, I kinda am, too, but with upstate.” He then cleared his throat again. “Although—make no mistake, though, Sam. If we were a lot bigger than we are right now, like if Anthrax truly was about to become something huge, I would probably reconsider that.”

“So for you, it's not just feeling at home and at peace in upstate New York but it's a matter of money.”

“Right! Exactly. We are kinda earnin', but it's not really a lot, though. No idea why this is, either. But we're barely getting paid, though, even while being on tour. Anyways, I gotta mosey on outta here—rehearsal starts in like three minutes. Also before I forget. I should tell ya this: be on the lookout for postcards.”

“Postcards from you?”

“From me, from Frankie, from Charlie, from Danny, from the girls, all of us. We're gonna be sending ya stuff while we're over here in Europe. Also, another thing I should ask you—how's Scott doin'? Have you talked to him at all?”

“I haven't seen him, no,” Sam confessed. “Like weeks—not since you auditioned for the guitarist position. Although I'm thinking of going over to his place and at least checking in on him and his fiancée.”

“You ought to. On the flight over here, Frankie and I were talking and at one point, he goes, 'I wonder how Scott's been doing lately. We sure haven't heard from him in a long time.'”

Someone behind him interrupted him right then and there.

“What's that?” Joey called back and he held the phone away from his ear. The person said something.

“Okay,” he told them, and he brought the phone back. “Anyways, I gotta go. You sleep tight, alright?”

“Of course,” Sam said. “And you guys don't stay up too late.”

He chuckled at that. “Alright—good night, Sam I am. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And they hung up at the same time. She lay there on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling above her, and she listened to the falling rain outside of her window.

But at some point, she drifted off to sleep without putting the cordless back. There was a dream in there at some point, but she had no idea as to what it exactly encapsulated, especially by the time she woke up and Marla was cooking something in the kitchen for the both of them.

Sam had hope that the Cherry Suicides would have their day on Halloween for their annual celebratory show. She had no idea as to where they were playing that night, either, but she hoped that they would have those sugar skulls with them again.

Indeed, on Columbus Day weekend, she sat down with her colored pencils and her journal. She thought of Joey and that big headdress of red and white feathers perched high on his head, as if it was a crown. The crown in lieu of a party hat, the crown for his ascension into his twenty seventh trip about the sun, and thus she drew his head and shoulders. Those thick luxurious curls down from his head in such flyaway fashion and that big cluster of feathers all the way down to the floor. That rich scarlet for the base and the orange and golden yellow for the power of the sun.

She thought about Belinda's wishes to take her into stained glass. Perhaps it could be something genuinely wonderful as she picked up the Prussian blue and burnt umber colored pencils for the shadows under Joey's eyes and all about his face.

She thought about the glass in question, in how it all seemed so much brighter and more colorful when in the sun. All the times of walking to and fro about that front hallway of the school, where the morning sun shone through the stained glass. If only there was a way to bring it all forth with mere colored pencils.

Indeed, she brought the burnt umber to an angle and she began shading in his skin, a tone ever so light about his face. By his nose and the point of his chin, she gave it another layer and spread it out. Followed by another and another, until there she had the darkest, fullest shade of that lush, earthy brown for his sun kissed skin. The blue, meanwhile, added a touch more depth, especially to the natural creases on his face, around his nose and the corners of his mouth and his dark lips.

If only there was a way in which she could show this drawing to Joey, and if only there was a way in which she could translate this very drawing over to the world of stained glass. She had faith in Belinda and her power of convincing, however the whole suggestion about bringing leather crafting to the school seemed to have fallen on deaf ears at that point: neither of them heard anything about it since Alex's birthday party.

It was right there that she had forgotten to ask Joey about the guitar strap she had given to him for his birthday, and how it was faring for him with the overseas crowds. She pictured him at the front of the stages, with the microphone before him and the guitar slung over his shoulder, high against his body as it should be with him. If there was anything he could have given Alex credit for, it had to be that. The whole thing between him and Alex almost no sense to her, even to that moment in time, it made no sense to her.

The day following Joey's birthday, a Wednesday afternoon and the only time Sam had any time to herself during that quarter given Marla's whole hectic schedule on her own as well as all that she had to do, she spotted a pair of cards in the mailbox downstairs, one light rosy pink and the other a butter yellow. The latter had with it a small lumpy envelope the size of a playing card.

She turned over the yellow card where she was met with a clear, crisp photograph of a castle in Germany. To be near a castle once again!

But then she turned it over again in order to read that messy scrawl in blue pen.

“Sam—

my wife and I are trusting you with this key to our apartment, seeing as we owe you the record player with Spreading.

I hope all is well back home right now! I wish you were here with us—if you loved England, you'll love Germany and Holland even more.

Love, Danny”

She turned her head back to the mailbox and she took out the envelope. Indeed, she felt something hard inside, and she knew that she had been given a chance to listen to the vinyl records she so wished to listen to, mainly Spreading the Disease and also Live at Eindhoven. She then turned to the pink postcard, which had a photograph of a cobblestone street somewhere in Amsterdam. But right in the midst of the cobblestones stood the Cherry Suicides, donned in black hats and red veils as if someone had taken the picture right before the show and one of them tacked it onto the card. She then turned it over to read.

“Sam—

do you remember that tape we asked you to make for us? Well, we got accepted into the new merger between Megaforce and the other label with it! A bootleg tape is now a live album thanks to your help. It's not our debut album, but it's something to start with with us. Because of it, we're happy to tell you that you're the first in line for this new record. The Cherry Suicides: from Rhode Island with love—live in Boston 1987, is the full title. Be on the lookout for it around Halloween, believe it or not.

Be on the lookout for a live album from Anthrax and Testament, too—although I'm sure you already know about the latter. I don't know if Eric told you this yet, but that album isn't even supposed to come out over there in States until next year, so consider yourself lucky, my lady! Anyways, there's all kinds of good stuff from all of us! Things are in fact beginning to look up, and the four of us in particular owe it all to you.

Morgan, Minerva, and Rosita all send their love, and as do I.

-Zelda”

She smiled at that and she held both cards to her chest, a pair of twin cards, from two people she held so close to her heart. She then made her way upstairs with those as well as that lumpy envelope that Dan had sent her, and she was eager to make her way over to his place all to listen to those vinyl records.

Again, a pair of twins, soon to be triplets with the Cherry Suicides' upcoming live album. How exciting! The girls finally found their way with a new record, and it happened to be that bootleg tape that Sam had made for them while they toured with Anthrax and Testament as well.

She almost stumbled her way into the apartment but she caught herself before Genie greeted her at the door. Once she set everything down on the couch, she reached down and pet her little black cat head. She squinted her eyes at the feeling and she treated Sam to a low purr, and she squatted down before her so she could better pet her.

If she was to leave for California with Bill, then she would have to leave Genie behind as well, and this cat always greeted her in particular whenever she came in through that door. She erected her tail but left a small hook at the top as she rubbed on her knees. She turned around and gazed up at her with those soft golden eyes and that purr from within her throat, and Sam continued to pet her head and her back before her knees began to ache from the squatting.

No sooner had she stood to her feet when the phone rang.

“Oh, goodness me,” she told Genie, and she bowed into the kitchen and fetched the phone on the wall. “Hello?”

“Hello, daughter of mine.” She recognized her mother's voice on the other end.

“Oh, hi, Mom! I got home from school just now. What's happening?”

“I have some good news and some bad news,” Esmé began.

“Good news first,” Sam told her.

“The good news is in this past summer, starting from May, I have taken up writing. I handed in a sample of a manuscript to a publishing house down in L.A and I'm waiting to hear back from them. Your mother just might become a published author soon.”

“Oh, my god, that's wonderful!” Sam waved her hand about before her face, and then she remembered. “Now what about the bad news?”

“The bad news is—your father and I might be splitting up,” she confessed in a low voice. Sam then brought that same hand to her mouth to keep herself from screaming, or puking. Esmé let out a low whistle but she never said anything after that. The silence was deafening all around them.

“Why?” Sam finally managed to choke out.

“He tells me that things are just not right anymore,” she explained, “and they haven't been, either. Even I will admit to that. and just so you know, I never mentioned the man whom I used to know to him once before. But the human intuition is incredible, though. He and I—we talked it over together just this morning—and ever since then I haven't been able to completely process it yet.” She sniffled and Sam held a hand to her chest.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out. To think that her parents had been together for so long at that point as well: it didn't even feel right to her.

“But just—let's keep it between you and me, though,” Esmé advised her. “Unless Marla is really genuinely curious about it. I just—I don't know how else to tell you about this, either, other than straight up over the phone. If you were closer to us, I may have told you sooner before and you may have witnessed it as well.”

“Well, Mom—if it's any comfort at all—I actually might be back out there next summer,” she sputtered.

“Really?” Esmé paused. “What for? What happened?”

“Yeah, my counselor told me that my senior project is taking place out there. Like he planned it ahead of time, out in California, and he told me it's supposed to start like next August. So my junior year will end and then he and I prepare on heading out that way. With this—with hearing this, the one and only pitfall I can think of and see out of that is I'll be away from my friends here.”

“And you've settled into New York City, too,” Esmé added, “you seem so at home there, more so than you do here on the West Coast. But at least your father and I will get to see you again. This is actually something I've disliked about you living so far away from home, if I'm honest. I miss having you around us—and I know Ruben does, too. We both miss you dearly.”

“The other thing about it is I dunno how long it'll be, either,” Sam continued.

“And you'll be far away from Joey, too,” said Esmé in a grim tone of voice.

“I'll be far from Joey, too,” she echoed her.

“But wait, how does he feel about going out West? Maybe he can join you and Bill while you're out here.”

“I dunno—he and I were actually talking about that the other night. It's kind of Cliff was so reluctant to move with me, but Joey's more concerned with money, though. And just like Cliff, he's born and raised here in New York—you know, the whole upstate area where he's from. It's such a homey area, like the direct opposite of New York City in my opinion. You know, New York City is where the world comes to play and figure things out. Upstate is where the world bypasses it because everyone else pitched a tent there. So—I don't really see it, to be completely honest with you, Mom.”

“And it's a grueling task, too,” Esmé added, “you know the struggle the three of us went through three years ago.”

“How could I forget,” Sam quipped. “I was so happy to finally just lay down in bed afterwards.”

“Your father and I were, too, when we were staying at the hotel. I mean, we love New York for sure, and I do especially—in fact—come to think of it, one of the things that's driving the two of us apart is my desire to be back East, closer to you.”

“Really?” Sam pressed her free hand to her hip. “Well, why didn't you say anything before?”

“Well, because your father undertook so much when we were moving you over there. When we got home, Ruben said, 'we're only going over to New York for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I mean no offense to Sam at all, but we seriously can't do this all the time.' He never said anything to you because he didn't know how you would react to it.”

And Sam also thought about the previous conversation they had had before, in which Ruben might not have been her father after all. Indeed, it would also explain as to why she hardly heard anything from him unless the holidays rolled about.

“My publisher is also based out of L.A., too,” Esmé continued. “To make a huge decision such as that, a big grueling move across the family such as that, to move three thousand miles away now would be so frivolous and ultimately fruitless, in my personal opinion.”

“And it just wouldn't make any sense on top of that, anyway,” Sam pointed.

“Right, with you possibly coming out come the summer time as well. It wouldn't be right to me to have you out here for something for school only to have to pick everything up and swap places with you.”

But the news of her parents separating left Sam yearning for something else, something different. She barely paid any attention to anything more that her mother talked about after that; instead she thought of her next drawing. By the time she and Esmé bode each other goodbye for now, she returned to the couch to fetch her things. The lovely feeling she had had before had disappeared with the realization of what happened.

Even though her mother told her not to speak with anyone about it, Marla needed to know about it, and Joey needed to know about it. Aurora had built a home of her own and she hadn't heard anything from her since Alex's birthday party when she made it about herself. Her own best friend and fellow California girl wasn't even around to know about this thing that could alter everything and the world in which Sam knew about from that point onward. Her own best friend and whom she believed was her confidant.

Marla was more trustworthy with the arrival of all of this.

And it was right there that the tears began to fall from her eyes. She sniffled and brushed one away from her right, and she opened her book bag for her journal once again. To the page that followed her birthday drawing to Joey. She tried to keep the tears at bay as she put the first strokes of graphite down on the heavy graphite. But they still streaked down her face as she gave the drawing some dark hair.

Herself as a young child.

She thought about going into her room with the journal, but she had no reason to do so when she had the couch all to herself. She wept for herself and for the fact that she was never returning to childhood. She was never returning to Cliff. Even though she had no siblings to count on, she did feel as though she missed something. There had to be something right next to her all the while, someone else right next to her. She looked over at Genie, who had curled up in her usual spot on the couch.

Her golden eyes closed of the part of the way but she stayed awake.

Careful not to startle her, Sam reached over and petted her head again. She pinched those eyes closed all the way, which in turn made more tears bleed out from Sam's eyes.

She thought about Alex, in how she met him when he was still a young boy in school. He was still a boy to her, but even from a moment's glance, she could tell that he had grown so much in these past three years. The past four years, from when Testament first began life from the suburbs of San Francisco.

Four years since they came to the fold as Legacy, and she was right there when they changed their name. And now she had gotten their very first live album: it awaited her in her bedroom as if it taunted her from the darkness.

A legacy in its own rite.

And she knew that she would be near them once again come the summer time. But she returned to the journal to make that drawing of herself as a little girl. Through her tears, she made more markings that collected into the shape of something new. She had no idea as to how he looked as a child himself, but she knew the little pearl of gray hadn't made its grand entrance yet. That thick jet black hair and those big deep eyes that seemed to swallow her whole, even from the grains of paper, even from the softness of childhood.

She thought about the hug he had given her at his birthday party. Soft like a young boy still.

And yet she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Joey behind. To leave him there in upstate New York to his own devices. But then again, he had that guitar with him, and he had all manner of friends still within range of him, and he had his band as well.

His band.

Scott burst into her mind then, as did Dan Lilker. They had started Anthrax themselves, and yet they both had departed from their places. By some dark magic, Anthrax had become Joey's band almost overnight. He was the heart and soul for sure, but he had come into the fold well after they had started and lifted off of the ground. It wasn't like Alex, who had come into the fold with Testament right after their start and then watched them go forth.

To think Joey had been inherited a whole band from Scott all because of something that he did and something that Scott had dismissed time and time again. Something about it made her squirm in her seat a bit.

Granted, Joey was her boyfriend, and she knew that no matter what happened with Anthrax or with him, that she had to stand behind him on it, something that she had picked up from being with Cliff. But nothing about his position in the band spoke to her about it being his band, however. A stranger in a strange land there when it pertained to him. She couldn't help but compare the whole experience with Testament, either, the other quintet that was still a quintet themselves.

Chuck stood on the stage with his microphone stand and played it like he would a guitar, but at least that was part of the whole deal with them. She hadn't seen him pick up a guitar from someone who was obviously the opposite of him and then go forth with it out of sheer spite. She could hope all she wanted with Joey, but he had to come to his senses about his interaction with Alex at some point in the future. It was only fair to him, and it was only fair to Joey himself.

But on the other hand, she recalled as to how miserable Joey was without a guitar at his helm. She wanted him to be away from the alcohol, away from the drugs. She wanted him to excel as the true genuine artist she knew he was meant to be, that he had tucked away all by the constraint of time itself. He had to continue on with the guitar, and he had to continue on with Anthrax, with them as a four piece rather than a massive quintet like Testament or even Death Angel.

But he also had to come back down to earth. The kindness was within him: she could feel it, and she did in fact feel it with him. To brush away the contradictions like she brushed away tears, and she could perhaps crack the code with him. To dilute his venom like she would with watercolor and paint with it upon her canvas for all the world to see, and so she could say that she had danced with Joey Belladonna and gave him art.

She brushed away more tears as she completed the remainder of the two children on the page before her, the drawing of herself and the drawing of Alex. Two twin children, even though they weren't even a little bit related to one another.

If only there was a way in which she could contact him and not through the fan club only. He had showed to her those fleeting moments, those little nuggets, those glimpses to what resided behind those deep eyes. But much like with Joey, therein resided something more that he wasn't showing her. There was more to Alex than she had given him credit for, and more than Joey had given him credit for.

She then raised her head from the journal and she glanced back at Genie, who had curled up into a tight bun on the top of the couch and went to sleep.

Marla wouldn't be home for at least another half an hour.

She peered out the door to the porch, at the buildings across the street and the sliver of harbor beyond that. So much to New York she hadn't seen yet, and so much she hadn't done yet, but she wanted to do it all right then and there. She could feel the clock ticking, the end of the day coming. The end was upon her, just like how Cliff said it would be when he set out for the last time into Sweden. Beyond the drapes, beyond the veil, beyond the darkness.

To live in the great unknown and only find herself in a single small pinprick of it, but something else called her back. Even though she had pitched the tent herself there in Hell's Kitchen with Marla, the past called her back. The past to make peace with the present and ultimately the future.

Maybe it was in fact time to head on back home after all, but then again she had so much at her every whim and desire. There was no way she could leave now, but she also had to leave. To go with Bill to California and to be there for her mother and her father both as they sorted things out between them, and to find out more of the secrets they had kept from her all these years. Maybe it was time to head on back home, to be closer to her parents.

To be closer to the other side of the scene.

To be closer to Cliff again.

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iwritefanficion · 5 years

Note

Can you do a Roman jealousy smut fic?

Of course my dear! I think I’m getting better at this stuff. It may be a little bit different than what you were expecting but here you are! Also because you didn’t put a ship I’m going to assume you wanted x reader.

Warnings: Smut, swearing.

The day had been going well, so, so well. The two of you were having a lovely time together. It was date night, so Roman took you to a fantastic restaurant with wonderful food, delightful wine, and so much class one could feel like they were being executed in the French Revolution just by entering the place.

Like any date with Roman, it hadn’t ended there. He took you for a walk in a nearby park, stunning, especially late at night. The evening was gorgeous, clear sky so the stars shined above. It wasn’t chilly but Roman still gave you his jacket because that’s just who he was.

Then everything went to shit.

Your ex, who had just happened to see you, decided to make himself invited to your date. It was in the middle of a public park, so you couldn’t make a scene without drawing unwanted attention.

Your relationship with him did not end well, especially after you found out he was hooking up with other girls on the side. You had then blocked him on all social media and effectively cut him out of your life. He did try to talk to you- for the first month or so anyway but after being ignored, he stopped.

Why did the world seem to hate you?

Oh, and Roman was such a sweetheart. When your ex wandered up to the two of you and tried to chat you up, asking about your life and such, you told Roman who he was in a very flat voice. He knew you didn’t want a scene, you didn’t like fusses, you just wanted him to leave with little argument.

“So, you’re the guy she replaced me with?” Was the first thing he said to Roman after you didn’t respond to any of his questions. He looked your prince up and down, obviously finding Roman not suitable. “Wow, she lowered her standards considerably.”

“Shut up, asshole,” you hissed, shooting him the nastier glare you could muster. Replacement was a strong word, Roman didn’t replace him because he was so much better. It’s like using a microwave all your life and then learning to use an oven.

You just wanted to leave. You didn’t even want to argue with him.

“You’re trash,” Roman said, anger flickering in his eyes, his face hard. It was almost terrifying, seeing him so calm and angry. When he got angry, he mostly just insulted people and threw a bit of a fit. But this… this was something new. “You never deserved her, you are worthless. I have never seen someone so horrible, someone who would take something so beautiful and discard it. She deserves someone who will love her like the princess she is and unlike you, I will do just that.”

You blinked in surprise at Roman, mouth ajar. You loved him so much, and just hearing those words made your heart flutter. A grin danced on your lips, genuine and incapable of stopping.

Your ex, however, laughed at his words. “Oh, please,” he said, amused. His hand shot out and grabbed onto your wrist, tugging you close to him so you were chest to chest.

“What-”

His hand cupped your cheek, silencing any words that would have come out. This was so familiar, something you experienced with him in the best moments of the relationship. It would be naive of you to say the whole relationship was horrible because it wasn’t.

“Y/N, don’t you miss it?” He was smiling, a look in his eyes that he used to give you when the two of you shared the softest times. You hated to admit it but you did miss it. “Don’t you miss us? The way we used to dance in the middle of the living room? The way we laughed at horror movies that were too stupid not to laugh at? Don’t you miss the way our lips moved together?”

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, which parted slightly from the top lip. All the memories came rushing back to you. The relationship, besides how the two of you parted, was going so well.

“What about the way we made love? Or the little food fights we would have when we made cupcakes?” He leaned closer, breath fanning your face. You hated how much his words affected you. You hated having all these great memories being shoved down your throat. “Don’t you remember?”

“I do,” your voice was nothing but a croak, keeping your eyes locked with his. He was grinning, the grin that used to make your heart melt. But… it didn’t anymore.

You would never have what you once did. Besides, you didn’t love him, not anymore. You loved Roman.

Roman’s stomach churned, a spark of anger firing through his veins. He never would have thought you would ever be even considering him again. Jealousy burned through his chest, flushing his skin.

“We’re going home,” Roman grabbed onto your arm, not hard, but enough to pull you into him instead of your ex. There was no room for argument.

You looked at your boyfriend, a bit shocked at the hostility in his tone as he glared down your ex. A silent nod was the only response you gave, unable to form any words.

He dragged you away, the faint yelling of your ex coming from behind you but your ears were ringing. All you could focus on was Roman.

As soon as you got home, you were shoved into the door, Roman’s lips covering yours in a fervent kiss. He nipped at your bottom lips, tongue invading your mouth as soon as he gained access.

You moaned into the kiss, melting against his warm body pressed against you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, bringing him as close as he could get. This was forward, even for him, and you loved it.

“You miss him,” Roman growled, jealousy brewing in his voice, “you were actually considering taking him back?!” His teeth skimmed your jaw before sinking into the spot right below your jaw, drawing a small whimper from your lips.

“No,” was your breathy reply, “Roman, no.” Fuck, he was taking this way out of proportion. And as great as this felt, you knew it wouldn’t solve anything.

“You said it- you admitted it-” he cut off his own words with another bite to your neck, fingers digging into your hips. You let out another moan, muffling it by tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Roman- ah fuck!” He bit into your neck again, moving down the skin. “Please, listen. Yes, I miss the memories of him, not him! I love you, it’s not even a choice, I would never leave you for him!”

He pulled away from your bruising neck, gazing at your flushed face, feeling your chest heave up and down as harsh pants left your lips. Oh- oh.

“Y/N,” he breathed, guilt overriding the jealousy he felt, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad,” you smiled, your tone sultry and full of lost, “that was so fucking hot.” You pulled him close again, capturing his lips. The kiss was passionate, heated but still full of love.

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, grinding against him desperately, “please.”

The anger, the jealousy, the way he used those negative feelings for such rough pleasure was so fucking good. You wanted more. Heat pooled in your stomach, and you could feel the cloth down below soak in your juices.

Roman smirked, the gesture sending jolts down your body. God, why did he have to be so fucking hot?!

“With pleasure,” came the husky reply, strong hands lifting you from your thighs. A small yelp left your throat, and you clung to him. A chuckle erupted from his throat before he pulled you into another searing kiss.

You didn’t even realize you were in your bedroom until you were thrown on the bed. Out of breath, you gazed up at your lovely boyfriend as he stripped himself of his jacket and shirt. Eyes scanning over the torso, you bit your lip with a grin.

“Strip,” he commanded, eyes locking with yours. Authoritative, determined, dominant. Oh, that voice sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, unzipping your dress and letting it fall off your body before throwing it to a corner of the room.

Before you had the chance to remove your panties, Roman was there, pushing you down and crawling on top of you. He rutted against your clothed heat, pants removed, and face buried in your neck, biting and sucking any skin that was unmarked.

You mewled, your body growing warm. The delicious friction made your knees weak and you were thankful you were already laying down. Warm fingers trailed down your body, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. They went all the way down to your heat, rubbing the wet fabric between your legs.

“Tease,” you grumbled, growing impatient. That earned another smirk from the man above you, one that made you glare and pulling him into another kiss, biting his bottom lip in retaliation. He chuckled, purposely slowing the kiss, which you growled at.

As he kissed you, Roman pulled your panties to the side and wet his fingers against your folds. You gasped into the kiss, nails digging into his bare shoulders. Bucking to try and gain more friction, you whimpered pleadingly.

“So needy,” his laugh was right in your ear, soft and sexy. “You’re so wet and I’ve hardly touched you.”

You opened your mouth to give a snappy retort but his fingers entered you. Instead of words, all that came from your mouth was a shameless moan. Fuck- oh your bastard of a boyfriend was so going to get it- oh shit. The way he curled his fingers hit that spot in you that felt so fucking good. Revenge could wait.

“Fuck me already!” You cried, wanting to be filled. Fingers were nice but it was no substitute for his hard cock. You were so close to begging because you were so turned on it hurt.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Roman said playfully, taking off your underwear in a single fluid moment. Then off came his own. He lined up his cock with your heat, looking at you for confirmation, in which he received a nod, before plunging in.

“Fuck!” You screamed, letting out a loud moan. He fit you so well, filling you, stretching you. There was a burn, so wonderful and divine. “Please, Roman, move!”

You were sobbing as he started thrusting into you, not bothering to go slow. Just how you liked it. The pleasure was overwhelming, white-hot heat bubbling beneath your skin. Every snap of his hips hit deep inside you, reaching that one spot that made you cry out. You were a blubbering mess, the only thing you could say- well, scream was more accurate- was his name.

White spots danced along your vision, your brain going mushy. You could hear Roman grunting above you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You were so close, so fucking close, just a little more, a little… more.

“I’m cumming!” Roman groaned, head falling to your shoulder as he rode out his orgasm, his thrusts becoming sloppy as ropes of his seed shot out, coating your walls, his cock twitching inside you as he came, hard.

You called out his name, your legs spasming as your own orgasm took over, coating his member in your slick fluids.

Exhausted, you both slumped, Roman on top of you. You panted harshly, still coming off your high. A lazy smile stretched across your face. Your fingers combed through his sweat-soaked hair, a feeling of peace and love settling in your chest.

“That was wonderful,” you commented with a laugh, your eyelids growing heavy. Fuck, that orgasm was intense.

Roman managed to pull himself up, a proud smile decorating his face. He kissed you, slowly and softly, a gentleness that was much appreciated after the rough session.

“We should clean up,” he said, though there was no real conviction in his voice. You pulled him to you, switching positions so he was laying on the bed and you were beside him.

“Tomorrow,” you promised with a yawn, snuggling upon his chest. “M’tired.”

Roman’s arms encircled you, giving you some much-needed warmth, and pulled a blanket over the two of you. He kissed the top of your head, listening to your breathing getting slower and eventually watching you fall into a peaceful slumber. He followed your lead, smiling a tender smile.

Hope you enjoyed! This was fun to write! I wish you like reading it as much as I liked writing it.

#not safe for sanders #sanders sides x reader #roman sanders x reader #x reader #roman sanders #sanders sides #jealousy #smut #xreader #iwritefanfiction

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dontenchantme · 4 years

Text

the cynical fourth-born

Rated T, Satan x MC

he reminded her of a cat that didn't want to be picked up. she was stupid enough to pick him up anyway.

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She enjoyed watching him read. There was something strangely peaceful about his face when he was absorbed in a new book. For once, he looked almost open.

“I can feel you staring at me, you know,” he suddenly said without looking up from his book. “It’s distracting.”

She jumped. “Sorry,” she mumbled, averting her gaze, her cheeks warming. She heard a chuckle, then the blond demon put his book down and looked up at her with a faint smile on his face. She could feel butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“No need to apologise,” he answered, and his brilliant green eyes made her forget what she was thinking about. “I’m just surprised you’re not with Mammon today.”

“I’ve been hanging out with Mammon the whole week,” she said. It wasn’t really a complaint – Mammon was a bit of an idiot sometimes, but he was sweet, and he treated her well. Just that as a result, she couldn’t spend as much time as she'd like with the other brothers, and she found herself missing one of them in particular.

There was just something about Satan that calmed her down. Maybe it was because he seemed the most normal out of the seven demon brothers. While she enjoyed the many surprises the Devildom regularly threw at her, sometimes normal was nice.

Besides, Satan was the one who always suggested activities that were right up her alley. Visiting cat cafes, going to a museum or a bookstore, watching shows together – she enjoyed these kinds of things. Though she knew he only invited her to accompany him as a friend, she still liked these quiet moments they spent together, neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence with chatter.

“Then you decided to look for me instead?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure how I feel about being the second option…” But the amusement in his voice took the edge off his words, and she sighed, turning to face him.

He was lounging in bed while she sat cross-legged at his desk. Her breath caught as she looked at him like this, his eyelids slightly lowered, a relaxed smile on his face. His blond hair was messy, probably from him running his hand through it to keep his fringe up while he read. She knew how much Satan valued his personal space, how he felt like his room was the only place where he could let his guard down and be himself, and she felt honoured that he would allow her into a space so sacred.

“You know you’re not a second option,” she answered. Satan raised an eyebrow, getting up from his bed – she continued to watch him as he walked over to her.

It was so difficult to meet his gaze. He had the most beautiful eyes. “And how do I know that?” he asked, stopping right in front of her. He was so much taller than her, and she found herself tipping her head back just so she could look at him.

“Satan, you’re my favourite person to spend time with. You’re the only one who likes cats as much as I do,” she raised one finger, “and also, you can listen to me rambling about shows and books without wanting to fall asleep.” She raised a second finger. “Why would you not be my first choice?”

“Mammon was your first, though,” Satan said, and she could hear the humour in his words. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“You know full well what he meant!” she rebutted, and Satan laughed, leaning against the desk. His nearness was making it a little hard to focus, but she tried not to let that show on her face. “Anyway. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Not really. But she blurted that out in an attempt to pull her thoughts together, and Satan’s eyes widened a fraction – he straightened back up, watching her. “Sure. Ask away.”

Her mind went blank. She hesitated, and he continued staring at her, tilting his head while he waited. “Um…I’ve been thinking. What’s your type?” she finally asked, her face probably red by this point, and she couldn’t believe she had the guts to say this.

Granted, she had been curious for a while now. She figured he had lots of admirers – all of the brothers did, being as powerful as they were – but she had never seen him show interest in anyone, and it made her wonder. But she always thought she’d be too embarrassed to ask something so personal. Satan blinked, looking surprised.

“Why the sudden question?” Of course, he never made things easy for her.

“Just curious.” She shrugged, though she was now painfully aware of his every word – she lowered her gaze, looking at his chest, his shoulders, noticing every breath he took. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she added when the silence stretched on for too long and it began making her uncomfortable.

It was strange because she usually didn’t mind staying quiet, but this was different – there was a sudden tension between the two of them that she had never felt before.

She heard him sigh and she lifted her gaze. “You know, I never really thought about having a type before,” he mused. “I don’t think any of us have one. Taking lovers isn’t something we focus on…unless you’re Asmo,” he added.

She inhaled. “Yeah, that makes sense,” she answered, trying to keep her tone light. She hadn't been expecting anything, but she still felt a little disappointed.

She wasn’t even sure when she first developed feelings for him. She just woke up one morning, looking forward to seeing Satan at breakfast with that sunny smile he reserved especially for her, and realisation suddenly rammed into her like a truck.

“You don’t look too pleased,” Satan said, and his voice broke into her thoughts, making her blink. He was studying her, and she wanted to answer but she didn’t know what to say. She could tell him that she liked him. And then what?

She wasn’t sure how he felt about her. They were friends, but that was the only thing she could say with any confidence. She had heard him complain one too many times about witches trying to flirt with him, and that made her nervous. If she decided to admit her feelings, then how was she any different from those women? She guessed he would let her down easy because they were friends, but she didn't want things to turn awkward between them.

“No, I’m fine,” she replied. “I was just hoping to find out. After all, knowledge is power!” She forced herself to smile, but Satan looked far from amused.

“There’s a difference between knowledge and idle gossip.” He shook his head. “And anyway, I can see that something is bothering you. Why don’t you tell me?”

When he looked at her that way it became very difficult to think. It was unfair that his eyes were so pretty. And she thought he was the closest anyone would ever come to her ideal guy – an animal lover who liked to read, who appreciated art, who liked to come up with theories for his favourite shows, who preferred to stay in rather than go out, who would sometimes look at her with the softest smile on his face when there was no one besides the two of them –

She wasn’t idealistic. Satan was far from sweetness and sunshine. He had issues of his own, and she had been on the receiving end of his rage before. She knew perfectly well how terrifying he could be when he was genuinely angry.

But at the same time, he worked so hard to channel that anger into other things. He cultivated interests, he pursued knowledge, he did everything he could so that he wouldn’t simply be wrath personified, always hurting, always destroying. The fact that most people wouldn’t even associate him with his sin was a testament to his efforts. She thought the way he kept trying to improve himself was inspiring.

“It’s nothing, really,” she whispered. His eyes narrowed at her, and something dark flickered in their green depths – his hand grabbed her wrist and she yelped, startled by the sudden contact. Her heart was in her throat.

“Look, we both know it’s not nothing. I don’t like seeing you upset, so just tell me what’s on your mind before I get annoyed,” he stated. “Did one of my brothers do something again?”

She shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately,” she started. “About…well, you know how you told me about that witch who was flirting with you?” Satan nodded, and she inhaled. “I was just wondering if you...you know. Don’t like people in general.” She didn’t make sense, did she?

“No, I just didn’t like her.” Satan frowned. His hand was still on her wrist, though his grip had loosened somewhat – she could pull away if she wanted to, but the feeling of his fingers on her skin made her heart flutter. “You know the seven of us are the most powerful demons in the Devildom – if you don’t count Diavolo, of course. That’s what most people know me as. The Avatar of Wrath. I don’t like it when they try to get into my good graces knowing nothing but that. It’s disrespectful.”

For all of Satan’s complaints about Lucifer, the two of them were remarkably alike. She could imagine Lucifer saying the exact same thing. “So, you might not turn someone away if they got to know you first?” she asked, her heart thudding.

He blinked. “Perhaps.” After a moment, he abruptly let go of her wrist, as though he had only just realised that he was still holding on to her. “Why the sudden curiosity though?” He looked at her expectantly, but she had the feeling that he already knew what she wanted to say. He was smart and he was a good detective – if Satan hadn’t figured out her crush on him by now, she’d be truly surprised.

But that was the thing. She was fairly confident he was aware of her feelings – she blushed way too much around him – so it was strange that he never brought it up before. “I think.” She had to stop and draw a breath. “I think I might like you.”

She was met with silence. Satan didn’t react for a while, then suddenly he sighed and turned away – she felt her heart sink, but then he sat on the edge of his bed and looked at her. “Come here,” he said, patting the spot beside him, and she bit her lip, confused. No matter how many times she came to visit his room, she never sat on his bed. It was an unspoken rule, an invisible boundary between them.

Hesitantly she joined him, and when she sat, she realised just how close they were – if either of them moved just a little bit their hands would touch. “I always knew you had feelings for me,” Satan spoke first, staring at the wall. “I just hoped you might grow out of them, because…well, do you remember the time I offered to make a pact with you so I could spite Lucifer, and you turned me down?”

She nodded. That wasn’t something she would forget anytime soon. It was the first time she saw what Satan was like when he got angry. “That’s what I’m really like, you know. Deep down. I’m not as pleasant as you think I am.” He glanced at her. “And sometimes I’m afraid I might lose control again and hurt you. Or worse.”

She frowned. “That’s stupid. You’re not going to do that.” He exhaled, but she cut in before he could say anything. “Satan, I’m well aware of how dangerous you are. But your brothers are dangerous too. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend time with them.” She paused and noticed Satan watching her carefully, his expression unreadable. “That incident was some time ago. We didn’t know each other well back then. Things are different now. We’re friends, aren’t we? I don’t think you’d want to hurt me.”

“Just because I don’t want to hurt you doesn’t mean I won’t,” he answered. “Yes, we’re friends – but you don’t know how it feels like. The anger, I mean.” He placed his hand on his chest, inhaling. “It’s always there. Right on the edge of my consciousness. As though it could bleed out and consume me at any moment. The things I enjoy doing keep it at bay, but it’s still a part of me and it simply won’t leave.”

“I don’t want it to leave.” He stiffened, and she knew she had to tread carefully here – she took her time choosing her words, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “Satan, as you said, your anger is a part of who you are. I’m not saying that's a good thing, nor does it mean you should force yourself to be happy if you're not. It’s more of…” she hesitated. “It’s more that this anger is what birthed you, and even if you move on and you keep it concealed, you can’t forget your origin. I don’t think you should forget it, either.”

His lips quirked up. “I couldn’t forget it even if I tried,” he said. Then his voice quietened. “As a human, are you aware of how breakable you are? We wouldn’t even need to change to our demon forms to hurt you, to maim you. To kill you. And yet you live and laugh with us, as though we are…people. I don’t mean it in a bad way,” he added when she met his gaze, her lips turning down. “It just amazes me that you aren’t more afraid.”

“Well.” She exhaled. “I’ve lived here for a few months now. I think you all tend to underestimate how adaptable we humans are.”

“I could hurt you,” he repeated, but she felt his hand cover hers and she swallowed. Her heart was racing. It was funny how listening to him warn her about the danger he posed didn’t fluster her in the slightest, yet a simple touch made her breathless.

“Lucifer would be the first to get mad about that, not me,” she said. He laughed.

“That’s fair.” He paused. “You might regret your decision.”

“Let me come to that conclusion on my own.” She met his gaze, feeling surprisingly bold, and his eyes softened – he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he whispered, leaning a little closer to her. She bit her lip, his nearness making her giddy.

“And that’s why I want to find out,” she answered just as quietly. He didn’t hesitate – the moment she was done speaking his lips were on hers, and she felt his hand on the back of her head, his fingers twining in her hair, pressing her closer.

She kissed him back, her eyelids fluttering shut. His lips were so soft, and it was exactly like how she imagined kissing him would feel. No, this was better. He whispered her name against her mouth and her heart sang.

Before she came to the Devildom she would never have imagined herself falling for a demon, but people changed, and she realised that the demons she met weren’t anything like the ones she saw in books and movies. His kisses were getting more forceful now, and she placed her hands on his shoulders, steadying herself as he leant into her, his weight pushing her down onto the mattress. He was warm and solid, and she liked feeling him on top of her like this.

“Satan,” she murmured his name as she parted from him, one of her hands fisting his blond hair – he responded by shifting down to her neck, her jaw, pressing gentle butterfly kisses along her throat. She shuddered as his tongue ran over a particularly sensitive spot, right where her pulse thrummed. She could lose herself in this – she could lose herself in him. Satan seemed to instinctively know where to kiss, where to touch so that she jolted beneath him, unable to withstand the sensations pulsing through her.

He was surprisingly gentle, given that he was the Avatar of Wrath – but whenever she managed to open her eyes, breaking free from the daze he lured her into, she saw the heat in his eyes and the way his fingers clenched his bedsheet and she realised that he was holding back, making sure that his touches were slow and soft. At some point he had slipped one hand up her shirt and she wasn’t complaining about that, but he left his hand resting on her torso and she did want him to start reaching a little higher.

“Satan. Just let go.” She caught his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. She heard his breath catch. “I want this. And I want you.”

“Moving a little fast, aren’t we?” he murmured, a teasing lilt in his voice, and she huffed, pulling him down towards her. She kissed him again and he sighed against her parted lips – his hand gripped her bare waist and she shivered, yearning to feel more of his touch. One of her hands reached up to brush his hair away from his eyes.

“I’ve waited long enough,” she told him, and he chuckled, catching her hand in his. He planted gentle kisses on each fingertip and she never knew it was possible to want someone so badly. She wanted it all – his smile, his gentleness, even the glimpses of something dark she could see whenever she touched him a certain way and he inhaled, his eyes narrowing at her.

“Another time, maybe.” Satan got off her and she groaned – he had wound her up and she was needy now. He was being unfair. But he smiled at her frustration and tugged on her hand, forcing her to sit up. “It’ll be dinnertime soon, and if we don’t show up the others are going to wonder what we’re doing,” he said.

“But I – fine.” She sighed. He was right. The last thing they wanted was all six of the brothers barging into Satan’s room, looking for them. “I want to say though, this is horrible timing.” She combed her fingers through her hair, knowing it was probably messy.

Satan reached up to push her fringe away from her face, and he kept his hand there for a moment, staring into her eyes. She fidgeted, unable to focus with him looking at her like that. Then he smiled and leant forward, bumping his nose against hers.

“We could always continue after dinner,” he said, so casually that for a moment she thought he was inviting her to watch shows in his room – then the realisation sank in and she blushed, averting her gaze. He laughed when she nodded, still refusing to look at him.

When she first arrived here as an exchange student, she would never have imagined that she’d end up dating one of the demon brothers, much less Satan. But here they were now, and if this didn’t prove that dreams could come true, she didn’t know what did.

#satan obey me #satan x mc #obey me #obey me shall we date

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prettywordsyouleft · 6 years

Text

Different Kisses with Im Jaebum

Thanks for the request! GOT7 is a group very near and dear to me… one I spent 3 + years heavily obsessed with so it’s always fun for me to write them now, because during that time, I just didn’t? I dunno, but enough rambles, let’s get into kissing JB shall we?

Jaebum has the bad boy freak in the sheets persona that so many have given him, but to you, he’s actually the softest sweetheart of a boyfriend, with kisses that could melt you in 0.001 seconds.

First kiss:

Much like when Jaebum confessed his feelings for you, your first kiss was handled in the same manner. You could tell he was nervous, as he handed you a drink he’d gotten from the convenience store on your walk together, and for awhile you travelled in silence, him fiddling with his drink, whilst you tried to time taking sips of yours, wondering what he was going to launch at you and worrying he’d suddenly do it whilst you’re gulping back your beverage. It made you tense and he seemed to pick up on this emotion, rocking back a little on his heels and causing you to turn and look at him. He grabbed your hand and smiled; telling you how much he likes you, and how much he has wanted to do this to you for so long now. And before you could ask what this was, his lips were upon yours, soft yet exploring. It was longer than you expected, but not passionate, more hesitant and gentle. It made you smile against him, and Jaebum reciprocated this, drawing you in closer to him and now really making sure you knew how he felt towards you.

Public kisses:

Your first kiss was pretty much your only kiss out in public. Even though Jaebum loves you completely, being out in public stifles his strong skinship issues, and leaves you in the realm of holding hands. Admittedly at first you hadn’t expected him to be like this, given how much he had kissed you without a care of the others passing you by in the park that night, but you actually found his gentlemanly manners attractive, happy to know that when you were in a more private setting, that he would be all over you again. And so you treasured moments out together, because not only did you get to see him from a further distance than usual (please note he is still at your side but when you’re not wrapped up in someone, there is more space) which allowed you to soak in his details from different angles, and it excited you to acknowledge that you could only be out for so long, and you’d soon be able to be back in his arms.

Private kisses:

At home, Jaebum is completely different. He’s always on you, arms wrapped around your waist, following you around the house, laughing in your ear and just genuinely happy to be around you. You’re also both self sufficient, able to have your time to yourselves doing your own tasks, but Jaebum is the type to find reasons to come and be closer with you. If you’re working on some left over notes from work/study, he’ll move over to where you are with a notebook and pen, busying himself too. You’ll both shoot each other smiles, not phased to know what the other is doing, but happy for the company. In these moments, you equally distribute brief kisses, a reminder that you’re both there for each other. It’s a giddy feeling to be so in love, having the ability to reach over and place a chaste kiss on each other, and then return back to what you’re doing with a smile.

To make up for the little amount of kisses out in public, you receive a lot during your time at home, cooking and cleaning together with kisses in between. At night it’s common for you to cuddle up and watch movies or read on the couch, and these are your softest moments, both wrapped up in each other, being playful towards one another and lots of soft, lingering kisses. It’s easy for your attention to slip from what you doing and just becoming insanely immersed within Jaebum, surprising yourself when you found something new in the way his eyes were shaded, examining the angle of his nose and then kissing it, Jaebum scrunching it up at you and then launching his lips all over you. Laughter is such a huge element to your relationship and he loves hearing you so happy, making him hold you more tenderly, and kiss you with more passion.

Making out:

Yes it’s true this boy knows how to pleasure you. But he has many ways of doing this, sometimes he is dominant, and his passion can lead you both into a hot, fast, and rough world of sexual fantasies. But more often than that, you see the more sensual side to Jaebum. He knows just how to control you, how to make you squirm at the lightest of touches, how to make you moan out his name, all whilst still fully clothed. It’s almost like he’s a scientist, experimenting to find new cues from you, smirking his way along your body, his hands accompanying his arduous testing. He’s adept in causing you to become weak in the knees with just one look, and it’s usually you who fails to keep up with his teasing, to begin begging for more. Jaebum could happily make out with you all day long, bringing you close to the edge of no return, before backing right off, biting at his lips and smirking at your obvious upheaval. You are so gorgeous when you’re unhinged like this to him, and you’d think he’d want to take you right there and then. His sensual, longing behaviours always have you on high alert, because they’re complete torment, especially when he’s got his mind set on how things are going to go.

Although he likes the control factor, he’s equally surprised and accommodating when you express your obvious desires for him first, his smirks aren’t there, but his teasing words are, asking if you really can’t control yourself and have to have him right now. He’ll oblige of course, sucking at your neck and upper chest as you dictate the course of your more intimate moment, lots of hard kisses followed by an abundance of soft, sensual nips and licks at your body.

Last remark for this section haha remark – love bites. Jaebum’s biggest kink is leaving his mark all over you. He’s got a bit of a possessive streak when it comes to you. Not in a negative, controlling way, but he likes knowing your body is his, and his only. And leaving a trail of his marks on you is a way to know just how much he loves you, and you appreciate being only his too.

Morning kisses:

You’re more prompt at getting up in the mornings. Jaebum isn’t so interested in moving when he first opens his eyes, and so there can be a bit of bickering in the mornings, you telling him you have to get to work/school and him not accepting this as a response. When Jaebum first wakes up, he’s incredibly soft and enamoured by you, chuckling at how awful your hair is. To you, this can make you whine, which he was aiming for, he loves teasing you, because you look so beautiful in whatever form you come in. It surprises him to not find anything about you unattractive, even when you have a birds nest on your head. But before you can do anything about it, he’s thrown himself over you, pinning you to the bed under him and is refusing you to get up, no matter what complaint you give him. You even once tried to tell him you needed the bathroom and he told you that sheets are washable; he’s so stubborn and unromantic at times. But he’ll always back his bluntness up with soft, sweet kisses over the bridge of your nose and cheeks, forehead and all the way down to your jawline. He purposely leaves out your lips just to mess with you, smiling widely when he sees you pouting and then presses his mouth upon yours, silencing any of your residual nagging about starting the day. And you almost forget until the second alarm goes off, telling you that you’re now going to be late if you don’t move it. Jaebum hates that second alarm so much that he snuck into your phone to disarm it once, and now you’ve created it specifically for him, using a couple of lines from Dream High 2 on repeat as the alarm tone. That gets him up out of bed quick smart, and you’re gripping at your phone, thankful it saved the day, but also worrying that he’s going to grab it and throw it away sometime soon. Love and war go hand in hand in the morning with Im Jaebum.

Making up:

Jaebum has a temper; you know it exists, but he’s also so blunt and honest, that fighting between you rarely occurs because you both try to not allow anything to build into a problem. But when it does, it’s like you forgot how bad it truly gets, he’s so worked up, yelling at you, making it worse by adding in things that he’s clearly not let go of like you have, and is convinced you’re out to destroy what you have. He’s so petty when you fight, unable to clearly think straight because he’s so furious that you’ve started something up and upset him. He’s not going to stop and think about how you’re crying during these moments, because he’s too worked up in his own feelings, sometimes going as far as to feel like you’re inflicting this pain on him, and it’s not a mutual effort. He’s blind to how you’re now shaking and not responding in the argument, and most likely you will try to leave, him screaming at you that you’re not done fighting yet, but you yourself are more than done.

It can take days to recover from these outbursts and a lot of it is down to you both needing to think internally about what the real problem is, and how you’re both going to fix it.

There’s no apology kisses, it’s more of a sweeping under the rug initially. You will address the problem, but for Jaebum he needs to feel the connection first, because it’s been so lost between you for days now. He’s focussed on kissing you, exploring you, remembering how you taste again because he’s so worried you’ve somehow changed. It’s a relief when you haven’t, and that you kiss him back with just as much demand, sometimes silently picking you up and taking you down to your bedroom and exploring every inch of you. Out of everyone I’ve written for, Jaebum is the most likely to have make up sex after arguments, not because it fixes the problem, but because he craves a full connection with you again.

Crown kisses:

You often go into Jaebum’s music room and find him working away on his songs, the boy barely noticing your arrival when he’s immersed in his work. In these moments, his dedication is truly admirable and you cannot help throwing your arms around the back of his chair and onto him, kissing the top of his head. And it won’t be long until he’s turning around to face you, wrapping his own arms around your waist and relishing in the affection you’re giving him, burying himself into you. He loves it when you kiss the top of his head, although when you first did it, he was embarrassed because it seemed so odd to him to receive a kiss like that from anyone but his mother. But now he had another beautiful woman in his world and he cherished these kisses like no other.

Stressed kisses:

When Jaebum is stressed, he’s like a small child. Fragile, and lost, his eyes narrowed as his mind races to try and keep up with everything, to find what priority needs to come first and how to solve whatever is stressing him out. And you’ve learned he needs some time at first, because he does like to internalise, and he does like to come to conclusions himself. Although he is very open with you, and tells you everything, when he’s stressed, you know if you rush him, he’ll get impatient and closed off from you. And so you wait, hoping that he’ll solve it himself. But there are times where the problem is just too big for him alone, and he gets too emotional and self critical, beating himself up for not catching this problem when it was smaller and more manageable. This is where he needs you the most in your relationship, as a sounding board for the issues, and to try and help him through, like he always does for you when you’re struggling. Unlike you, who turned to him at the drop of the hat, Jaebum has an ego that prevents him from unleashing everything on you, wanting to be the man who solves problems. It’s not a sexist belief entirely, he knows your advice is second to none, but he struggles with being weak in front of you, wanting to be your strong, protective boyfriend at all costs. Crying in front of you is the worst thing he can do, and so that’s another reason why he avoids it until he can no longer, and those stupid tears fall without his request, frustrating him further. You try your best to not make a big deal out of him, even though you just want to envelope him in your arms and coddle him, to tell him it’s going to be okay. In those moments, simply holding him and kissing him lightly without any words is enough to bring him down from his emotional state, Jaebum gripping at you to steady himself, embarrassed that he cried, but also so thankful that it was you comforting him. Once he’s calmer, you can then talk out the problem, little kisses along the way to reassure him that you’re here for him no matter what.

Night kisses:

Last kiss! Like Daehyun, I had to add this in here for Jaebum as well. Because at night Jaebum is the most sincere and raw that you will ever see him be. After the daily grind is over and you are both in each other’s arms in bed, he’ll use this time to tell you everything on his mind, how much he treasures you for accepting his heart, how he cannot wait for you to be a Mum to more than just your cats, how one day he’ll make you the most beautiful bride. And you have never felt so speechless in your life during these sessions, amazed at how deep he feels for you, how expanse his future visions are for you both, and not wanting to hold back, in case they didn’t come into fruition like you sometimes did. You were certain he would make them happen just because he believes you and him are for ever. It was magical to have someone so invested into you, knowing you were in him too and just expressing those feelings is enough to have you finding his mouth with demand, deepening the kiss for a bit before ending it with a final graze of your lips on his. You can see how much he loves you during these moonlit experiences, and how much he cherishes having you in his world. Because of these moments together, falling asleep is always easy, his voice in your ear as he lightly kisses it, lulling you to sleep, to dream of the future you both want to greet when the time arrives.

Someone call the doctor (Hwang of course) because I think I forgot to breathe again. Jaebum is honestly so hardworking in whatever he does, and his honesty and comfortable nature within his own skin is so attractive, that anyone lucky to be spoilt with his love is going to die a happy, beautiful death.

_______________

Other GOT7 members: Mark // Jaebum // Jackson // Jinyoung // Youngjae // Yugyeom

[Different Kisses Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

#im jaebum #jaebum #got7 #got7 JB #got7 imagine #got7 reaction #got7 scenario #jaebum reaction #jaebum imagine #jaebum scenario #Boyfriend! JB #Boyfriend! Jaebum #prettywordsyouleft requested

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marywardvvell · 5 years

Text

how it was

rating: m/pg-13 pairing: sabrina + madam sabrina/lilith summary: Lilith thinks about Sabrina. And then she does something about it. (sabrina is 18 au) read on ao3 here or below

It was annoying, the cheerfulness; the toothrottingly sweet smiles and the way she all but skipped into class, the way she believed the best in everyone despite knowing what darkness the world held and the how she demanded justice never though justice for women like them was merely a fairytale.

“Thank you,” Sabrina said as they stood in the darkness, demon banished from its mortal host. It gave Lilith pause, this genuine thankfulness. No one thanked her, no one had reason to. The warmth of Sabrina’s hand in hers still lingered from earlier exorcism.

Was she ever that innocent? Did she ever believe that someone would be kind just for the sake of kindness? Maybe once, but only for a few fleeting moments. She wasn’t born, she was created from the dust and to the dust she’d return one day. When she first opened her eyes she was both younger and older than Sabrina, but time was young too and juxtaposition didn’t worry her then.

Wherever Sabrina went, Lilith followed in the shadows. She trusted her, or rather, she trusted Miss Wardwell and further intertwining their lives was easy. It was a cup of tea here, a listening ear there, and a helping hand whenever the young witch found herself in trouble. It was a romanticing, a seduction, gaining Sabrina’s total trust and loyalty. And soon Lilith knew the little songs Sabrina hummed when getting ready, the way she always put others before herself in the tiniest of ways whether it was holding doors in the rain or whispering protection spells over her friends.

There was a moment, days before she’d told Sabrina she was a witch, one forever burned into Lilith’s memory, when she heard the softest murmur outside her office door. Moving closer to the closed door she let her eyes shut, stretching her powers out to see Sabrina, facing the door with both hands up and swaying in a trance-like state. The words Sabrina spoke were familiar, a protection spell, gentle like a blessing and strong like a curse. Startled, Lilith stifled a gasp and remained still on the other side of the door long after Sabrina had gone.

…

It was aggravating, the purity; the curl of her blonde hair and the curve of her neck. Just looking at her apple red lips Lilith knew Sabrina had never been properly kissed. She’d known immediately why The Dark Lord wanted Sabrina, she was exquisite with untapped power humming through her veins. When Lilith was near the girl she could almost taste in.

Miss Wardwell’s sheet are maroon. In between sleeping and wakefulness is when Lilith imagined the contrast of Sabrina’s pale skin and blood red of the sheets. That thought alone is enough to drive a lesser demon insane but she went farther. Maybe she was already insane, maybe she has been for a while. Corrupting Sabrina’s soul was one thing, but corrupting her body would have so much more fun.

She could easily imagine the way Sabrina’s white-blonde hair would look fanned out in her pillow. She could almost taste the way the magic would feel on her skin. In her mind’s eye Sabrina wouldn’t shy away, trying to hide her nakedness like Eve, but give herself fully over to Lilith’s hungry eyes and her wandering touch. How beautiful she’d sound, gasping Lilith’s name until the sun rose again.

But instead, she wrapped Sabrina’s slender wrist with red yarn to anchor them together, forcing herself to keep to the task at hand- crushing Sabrina’s spirit- and not how lovely she’d look tied to Miss Wardwell’s four poster bed. Slowly, she unwound the ball of yarn and watched her disappear into limbo.

…

It was maddening, the way she cried. The way a single quiver of the lip and drop of salty tear could make Lilith’s chest hurt. She was the most powerful demon imaginable but the sight of the half mortal girl crying on the other side of the mirror made Lilith feel more powerless than she had in years.

She hated feeling weak, hated fluttering in her chest and the tears that pricked the corners of her own eyes. It reminded her of a time when the stars burned bright and young, when she swore to never be weak again.

…

It was terrifying, letting her get so close. Sabrina’s light made its way into every crack and cevase of Lilith’s life. As much as she despised teaching those little mortal children, she looked forward to seeing Sabrina in her classroom, enjoyed when she stopped by her office, coming over to her house for midnight tea.

Sabrina let herself into Lilith’s office one afternoon, cheerfully smiling at her as she placed a shiny red apple on her desk. Her smile was so bright, so welcoming and kind, that Lilith wanted to hurt her, wanted to terrify her and show her exactly what a monster she was.

She caught Sabrina’s wrist and jerked her closer. She watched the catch in Sabrina’s breath and her pretty smile that dropped for a split second as her flush deepened. But then the smile was back, bigger than before and it was wonderful and totally unnerving to Lilith.

“Miss Wardwell?” Sabrina glanced from her face to where her wrist was being held captive.

Lilith released her, stepping back, “I- is there there something I can do for you?”

“I just wanted to see how your day was,” Said Sabrina, “And give you the apple of course.”

“Of course,” Lilith nodded, of course, she was just stopping by to be kind, “Well my day has been pretty uneventful.”

“Sometimes those kinds of days are nice,” Sabrina said, then gave a little wave, “I’ll see you tomorrow Miss Wardwell!”

“Yes, I will,” she murmured, watching Sabrina disappear out the door, her heart pounding, face flushed with a feeling she’d not felt in millennia.

Love.

…

It was wonderful, when Sabrina trusted her. True, Sabrina trusted too freely and quickly but one night she appeared on Miss Wardwell’s doorstep, poorly concealing her tears.

She knew what day it was, of course, Lilith always did her research and after only a handful of leading questions, Sabrina broke down in tears saying it was the anniversary of her parents death.

“I’m so sorry love,” Lilith murmured offering Sabrina a handkerchief and patting her knee. But soon she was petting her hair, letting Sabrina cry herself to sleep with her head in Lilith’s lap.

…

It was idiotic of her to forget why she’s there. Stupid to forget why she was sent to Greendale in the first place, who she answered to, her mission to complete.

But with Sabrina’s signature on the dotted line, she’s forgotten, she’s been forgotten by her dark lord and savior.

(Was she really saved? Or did she merely exchange one master for another?)

…

It was horrible, the look on her face when she burst through the door. The light was gone, a horrible mix of anger and fierce hurt marring her features. The office down rattled as Sabrina slammed it shut behind her, stalking up to the desk with Hell Fire burning in her eyes.

“Sabrina!” Lilith exclaimed, as if she didn’t immediately know. There was only one thing that would make Sabrina so angry at her.

“You’ve been working for him this whole time!” Sabrina yelled, “You tricked me!”

“Keep your voice down!” Lilith hissed, drawing herself up to her full height. Sabrina paused, faltered, but stepped forward with the full force of her anger again.

“How could you? I trusted you! I thought-“

“What? You thought what Sabrina? That I liked you? That I wanted to be your friend? That you were special?” Lilith sneered the last word. Leaning against her desk she threw her head back with a wicked laugh. It was easier this way, easier to crush her than beg for forgiveness.

Pretty tears spilled over, big, salty drops rolling down Sabrina’s face, “You made me sign The Book Of the Beast.”

“I didn’t make you do anything my dear, that was all you,” said Lilith, “if anything, you should be thanking me- look at all this power that’s at your command! You’re the most powerful witch of this realm, hell, you could smite me right now if you wished.”

“I could never do that Miss Wardwell,” Sabrina said, backing towards the door, “Because I am not a monster.”

It was like knife was plunged through her chest, icy and sharp. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, this wasn’t supposed to happen. But Sabrina was right, who else would be sent to sully her soul?

With the flick of her wrist the lock slid into place, trapping them together, and in several steps she was upon her, pressing Sabrina into the locked door. Every trace of anger had disappeared, leaving only hurt fear in Sabrina’s eyes. Her little human heart pounded in her chest so loudly Lilith could nearly hear it.

“Let me go,” Sabrina breathed, “Please Miss Wardwell, let me go,”

“Are you afraid?” Lilith leaned in, tongue flicking out to catch one of her salty tears, “Afraid of what your monster will do to you?”

Sabrina trembled, “I’m not afraid.”

“You know, we’re not so different you and I,” she said with a sad smile, Lilith’s fingertips traced their way up from Sabrina’s jaw to her temple.

“I’m nothing like you,” Sabrina hissed.

“Oh?” Lilith chuckled softly, “What about when you told dear, dear Harvey about your witchy little secret?”

Realization dawned on Sabrina and she struggled, tried to escape, “No! Don’t! Please don’t erase my memories! I’ll just find out again like I did!”

“Shhh shh,” Lilith cooed as her magic took effect, “It’s almost over, soon, my love, this will just be a bad dream.”

Sabrina stopped fighting, a glassing look clouding her eyes for a moment. Then she blinked up at Lilith.

“Miss Wardwell?” The fire and fury were gone from her face, replaced with the gentle innocence Lilith had come to know.

“What happened?” Sabrina asked, “I don’t remember… why are you holding me?”

“You fainted my dear,” Lilith released her, stepping back, “You almost fell. When was the last time you ate?”

Sabrina shook her head, “I don’t remember. I think I should head home though.”

“Would you like me to drive you?”

“No, I can manage,” Sabrina said and gave her a little wave.

“Sabrina! You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you? I’ll always be here for you,”

Then that brilliant smile was back, “Of course Miss Wardwell, See you tomorrow!”

Lilith smiled back, a sad smile that didn’t meet her eyes, “See you tomorrow, Sabrina.”

…

It was frightening, when he appeared before her. The Dark Lord was always a fantastic sight to be seen, striking fear into the hearts and souls of all who dared look upon when his cloven feet. In his presence, Lilith could do nothing but fell to her knees.

“Rise my wicked and faithless servant,” he said, “Name the reward you desire for your service in delivering the Spellman girl to me and it shall be yours. Let it be anything, anything at all.”

In one hand materialized a golden crown and in the other a scepter, “Would like to rule Hell? Have all the earth bow to you? Kings and Queens, Presidents and Prime Ministers would answer to you alone, begging for mercy and sacrificing their own spawn for your favor. Would you like the stars? Would you like to pull the tides and bring chaos to the mortals here? Throw fire from space and show them what the heavens are truly made of?”

“I want the girl,” she said, loudly, clearly, “I want Sabrina Spellman. You claim her soul for yourself but I want the deed transferred to me. I want to her to belong to me and me alone to do with as I wish.”

“One single little girl?” The Dark Lord sneered, “That you’ve spent so long securing for me? Whatever for?”

Having the clearest of minds, all distraction and true desires hidden away was the only way to barter with him. Lilith didn’t think about her smile or her gentle ways, she didn’t think about how Sabrina was the only person in centuries to care.

“She’s a pretty thing,” she said, instead, “And we both know how powerful she is. I want to see her on her knees, I want to make her beg.”

“I could show you that now,” he hissed.

“I don’t want to share.”

Even evil was bound by conventions and The Dark Lord had already promised her anything she wished. With a flourish the deed to Sabrina’s soul was presented to Lilith, her name written in red ink as the owner.

“She’ll never love you, Miss Wardwell,” The Dark Lord said, “Only I can love you.”

…

It was heavy, the paper, the deed written in blood ink, undestroyable by both heaven and hell. That’s how deeds to souls were, they stood the rest of time, weathered any mortal storm.

It wasn’t just physically heavy but emotionally. The deed to Sabrina’s soul weighted on the heart Lilith thought she’d cut out of her chest centuries ago. Somehow, it both ate at her and sustained her.

Sabrina skipped in and out of her office, in and out of her home, saying things like “You’re the best!” and kissing her on the cheek after midnight tea. Lilith was adept at century's worth of torture, but this was an entirely new strain of awful.

She longed to use her new power, her claim over the half witch’s soul to make Sabrina tremble and quake. She wanted to take her far, far away from the horrors of Greendale, to a paradise all their own where Lilith could be Sabrina’s only god, master, and savior.

But every time she considered it, she thought of the devistates look in Sabrina’s eyes when she’d found out who Miss Wardwell really was.

Shuddering, Lilith slid the draw with the deed closed. It would have to wait for another day. Sabrina was forever that forbidden fruit, behind the walls of the garden where Lilith was no longer welcome.

…

It was a surprise- but it also wasn’t- when Sabrina burst through her office door, talking as fast as the five rivers of hades about Father Blackwood and The Dark Lord And a book report Rosalind was writing and-

“Sabrina, won’t you slow down!” She exclaimed, only then seeing the shining tear tracks on Sabrina’s face. “My dear,” she said, stepping out from behind her desk, “Whatever is the matter?”

She knew. She knew even as the words left her mouth that Sabrina knew.

“He sold my soul!” Sabrina said, “The Dark Lord! He sold it to someone called The Mother of Demons and then Roz was telling me about a book she read of mythology and The Mother of Demons is another name of Lilith but I thought she was a myth!”

Sabrina grabbed Lilith’s wrist, eyes pleading, “Miss Wardwell what does she want from me?”

“Sabrina,” the word was choked, sticking in her throat. She loosed her wrist from Sabrina’s grip, taking her hand.

“I don’t know what to do,” said Sabrina softly. She wiped her eyes with her free hand before jerking forward to hug Lilith, arms wrapping tightly around her.

Lilith froze for a moment. Then, she hugged her back, gently petting Sabrina’s hair as she cried.

“Do you trust me?” She asked.

“Do I trust you?” Sabrina repeated, lifting her head to look up. Fresh tears shined on her face. “Of course I trust you, Miss Wardwell.”

Lilith took one of Sabrina’s hands, kissing the inside of her wrist, the palm of her hand, her knuckles, “Aren’t you the loveliest little thing? I doubt you’ll let me so close ever again.”

“Miss Wardwell?”

“Perhaps you’d better sit,”

…

It was quiet, her office, her house, without Sabrina there to fill the air with silly little things that happened at school, with her aunts, that filled her mind. She hadn’t screamed then Lilith told her, hadn’t cried when she learned of the deception, that her soul had been bought in exchange for her name in the book of the beast.

Lilith signed the deed over to her. Sabrina’s soul belonged to Sabrina and Sabrina alone. Then she took it.

“Please,” she said, “Stay away from me, I mean it. Stay out of my life and out of my dreams.”

Lilith inclined her head, “As you wish.”

Sabrina transferred to a differential homeroom and history class. She took extra care to avoid her in the halls. She’d so easily removed herself from Lilith’s reach and the emptiness was palpable.

The Dark Lord had no need of her anymore either. She’d strayed too far, gone too rouge in securing Sabrina’s soul for herself.

She was truly alone.

…

It was a shock to see her there, dripping wet with the rain, shivering on her stoop as thunder cracked behind her. It was a striking image. Rain water ruined her mascara, red lipstick smeared, and the little dress and sweater set she wore clung to her slight form in a way that left Lilith with unholy thoughts. It had been a month since

“Sabrina,” she breathed, “What- ? Come in, you’re soaked to the skin.”

Sabrina shivered as Lilith shut the door behind them, locking out the thunder and lightning. Water pooled at Sabrina’s feet, overflowing from her mary janes and mud soaked socks. With a snap of her fingers, the fire in Lilith’s hearth came to life. She pulled a blanket from her arm chair and handed it to Sabrina.

“Undress and wrap up in this,” she instructed and when Sabrina looked up at her in flushed, wide eyed disbelief added, “You are not dripping all over my floor. I’ll find you some spare clothes until yours dry.”

Lilith was surprised to see her blink, then nod and drape the blanket over her shoulders to undress beneath it.

A few minutes later, wrapped in the blanket and clad in a nightshirt far to big for her, Sabrina stood by the fire, hair glowing like a halo in the firelight. Lilith set the tea tray on the table.

“I made us some tea,” she said, not wanting to get to close again. She knew she was treating Sabrina like a fawn, a little rabbit so easily startled, but she could help it, she wanted to save this moment for as long as she could.

“I found out, before,” Sabrina said, staring into the flickering fire, “And then you erased my memories.”

She thought about denying it, thought about trying yet again to explain herself, but stopped, “Yes.”

“You said that we weren’t so different,”

“Sabrina-“

“You’re right.”

For once in her life, Lilith was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and just stared.

“I really missed you,” continued Sabrina, turning, “And I just wanted to ask if we could start over?”

“Yes, I would like that,” Lilith said with a tentative step closer.

Sabrina sighed, “Oh good. In that case-“ she stuck her hand out, “I’m Sabrina Spellman. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lilith,” she said, softly, indulging in the charade, “The pleasure is mine.”

Sabrina let their hands linger too long, her gaze drifting to Lilith’s blood red lips. The glance didn’t escape Lilith, but she didn’t move. She didn’t want to break the spell they both seemed to be under.

Then, suddenly, Sabrina jerked forward, dropping Lilith’s hand as she threw herself at her, kissing her, sloppy and off center. Lipstick smeared as Lilith pulled her close, crushing their bodies together. Sabrina sighed against Lilith’s mouth as they broke apart, but Lilith didn’t let go.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Sabrina whispered.

…

It was warm, sharing a bed. Tucked under Lilith’s chin, Sabrina dozed, her half-mortal body easily worn out from first the crying reconciliation, then from the fucking.

She’d tried to apologize but Lilith had put an end to that nonsense instantly. “You did nothing wrong,” she whispered between kisses, “You shouldn’t even fathom forgiving me, my sweet.”

“But I do.”

Sabrina’s hands had curled into the sheets, gripping the sea of cotton maroon as she arched into Lilith’s touch, into her kiss, into her. Filthy words spilled from her pretty mouth, sweet and coarse all at once. It was all she’d dreamt of an more, coaxing everything from the smallest whimpers to full throated moans.

It was the closest she’d get to heaven, but the only heaven she’d wanted.

Now, in her arms, Sabrina gave a little sigh, snuggling closer, “You could have had anything.”

Lilith has thought her asleep by now.

“What was that love?”

“You could have asked the Dark Lord for anything; the world, to be the queen of hell, your freedom, but you asked for me.”

Humming against the top of her head, she traced a fingertip from her shoulder to wrist, “Mmmmmm, i just felt like it, I suppose.”

It was a lie. It was a lie and they both knew it but let it linger in the air, settling over them like a fine mist.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sabrina said. She was calm, tilting her chin to look up at Lilith, “You gave me my freedom and I’m going to give you yours.”

Sabrina kissed her again, and for one bright and shining moment, everything was perfect.

#caos #caos fanfic #the chilling adventures of Sabrina #chilling adventures of sabrina #madam satan #Sabrina Spellman #Sabrina x Madam Satan #madam satan x sabrina #black sabith #fanfic

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gimmesumsuga · 6 years

Text

Sweeter than Sweet (37)

Pairings: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Namjoon x reader, Taehyung x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: Mild angst, graphic descriptions of sex, unprotected sex, blood-drinking

Word count: 3.8K

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The clothes you'd collected end up in a crumpled pile on the floor when you drop them without a thought beside you, freeing up your hands to take hold of Jimin’s face and brush away his tears as they fall one after another. You're at a loss for words, staring down the beautiful, broken man looking back at you.

How could he possibly think that that's what you meant? Does Jimin really think your love so shallow that something like this would make you abandon him? Of course he does - why would he think any different when he's already been cast aside once by someone he'd loved for so long?

You realise now that this is what Jimin’s overwhelmingly emotional reaction is about; he's gone into a total panic, assuming that you taking some space is synonymous with drawing your relationship to a close. It breaks your heart to know he’s thinking that way because you can only imagine what your reaction would be if Jimin told you it was over. You’d probably be ten times the mess he is and a million times less attractive, what with your propensity to develop a red, splotchy face and runny nose whenever you’re upset.

“Jimin, I’m not-” You pause to swallow, realising that your eyes are starting to threaten tears too, “That’s not what I meant, not at all.” Jimin’s moisture filled eyes just keep searching yours, pleading for answers and for reassurance as you struggle to keep up with wiping away the salty trails on his cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere, ok? Never.”

“I thought…” He trails off, pressing his eyes closed as he turns his head, biting his lip as pain flashes across his face. You use your hold on his face to turn it back to you, and when he opens his eyes again you look down into them with an intensity that borders on fierce.

“You thought wrong. I’m not leaving you, Jimin. I’d never do that to you.” Grabbing hold of his hands that are still clutching onto the backs of his thighs you pull him to standing, looking up at him now rather than down, relieved that no more fresh tears seem to making an appearance. “You mean too much to me,” you tell him softly, linking together your fingers where they hang by your side and stepping closer so you can rest your cheek against Jimin’s chest and close your eyes. His breathing is still a little ragged, chest shuddering slightly as he exhales, but as soon as you’re pressed to him Jimin squeezes your hands, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling deeply, like the scent of you soothes some primal part of him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly, his voice sounding tight and raw from all the crying he’s done.

Honestly, Jimin doesn’t need to apologise to you anymore. Any remaining anger you had, any doubt about wanting to be around him, it’s all been completely wiped away by seeing him this way. If it’s a manipulation on his part to earn instant forgiveness then it’s definitely a good one, but something in your gut tells you that his reaction was nothing but genuine.

“I know you are,” you say into Jimin’s chest, pulling your hands from his and wrapping your arms around him instead, your palms pressed to his shoulder blades.

“I just love you so much…” Jimin fingers start to run through your hair, the other wrapped around your waist as your heart flutters as it always does on hearing those words. “I’ve got no self-control when you’re around; my temper, my thirst, my desire… it all goes to hell.” One of Jimin’s gentle fingers comes to rest under your chin to tilt your face upward, and when you look at him again Jimin looks almost back to his normal self - save the bruises on his face and swollen nose and jaw. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I know how you feel,” you answer softly, because you really, truly do. You’d never thought you could feel like this, and it’s as scary as it as liberating, all at the same time. Your heart feels swollen in your chest, thumping like it’s trying to break through your ribs to get to him, and ever the slave to your impulses you tip forward to press your mouth to Jimin’s in an eager kiss, melting into him when he kisses you back just as desperately.

“I love you,” you tell him between the meeting of your lips, and the next time they press you feel Jimin’s curved into a slight smile, his hand twisting in your hair to pull you closer.

Gently, you kitten-lick at Jimin’s lips until he parts them, granting you access to his mouth. It almost feels strange kissing this way; you’re so used to Jimin taking the lead that to have him hold back and allow you to explore the cavern of his mouth, rolling your tongue against his, feels completely foreign. Odd - but wonderful all the same.

You moan quietly when Jimin lightly sucks on your bottom lip, and on hearing the sound you make he suddenly scoops you up in his arms without warning, only breaking your kiss when you wince slightly from the ongoing soreness of your hip. Jimin smiles apologetically at you, adjusting his grip enough to carry you comfortably over to the bed bridal style, and when he pulls away after carefully laying you down there's nothing but love burning in his eyes for you, so intense that it takes your breath away.

“Jimin...” you faintly implore, extending your reach towards him as he climbs onto the bed too, leaning over you as you pull his vest up and over his head, no longer possessing the nerves that would’ve once made you hesitate. You long to feel his naked body pressed to yours, that familiar ache starting to take you over as he unhurriedly removes your shirt too. He's so being so soft and so gentle that it only makes you want him more, and with eager hands you slide down his sweats and boxers too, smiling into the kiss you're sharing when he fumbles in trying to kick them off.

When you feel Jimin's hard length nudge against your stomach you keenly wrap him in your palm and tease him with a firm squeeze, adoring the stilted moan that it pulls from his lips. Jimin’s hips flex forward gently with each and every stroke of your hand, his eyes closed above you, dragging his bottom lip through his teeth as you torment him with slow pleasure.

He changes position, letting himself sink into the mattress to lie on his side, and as soon as his graceful hands are freed from supporting his weight they start working on your pants, Jimin obviously keen for you to be as naked as he is. He takes his time, kissing you leisurely as you continue to pleasure him, making him groan into the kiss more than once as he strips your lower half.

As soon as Jimin’s able to he’s touching you, rubbing his fingertips gently back and forth between your folds as you match his pace, steadily moving your hand up and down his cock with a gentle twist of your wrist. You honestly hadn’t realised just how wet his kiss had made you, but it’s hardly a surprise; your body has never had an issue in responding to even the lightest of Jimin’s touches, and today is no exception.

The feel of his fingers starting to circle your clitoris only further heightens your awareness of your own state of arousal, almost completely forgetting about pleasuring Jimin when he firmly rubs at the hardened bud, your pelvic muscles clenching as you moan into the pillow. He kisses you deeply, tongue brushing yours as your hips flex forward towards his hand, trying to lure him in by tiling halfway onto your back and letting your thighs fall further apart.

Thankfully Jimin takes your not-so-subtle hint; one of his fingers slipping inside, groaning against your neck as he feels your warm, wet walls squeezing around the intrusion. As soon as you’ve accommodated the first then a second joins it, and when Jimin starts to make slow, taunting come hither movements against your g-spot your hips start to move all of their own accord, pushing back with every curl of his fingers.

“I want you,” Jimin murmurs into the valley of your breasts, uttered between lingering kisses on that softest of flesh.

“Take me then,” you encourage breathlessly, squirming as his fine, silver hair tickles your skin. For another minute or so Jimin continues to stroke at your insides, relishing the sweet, needy sounds you make, but eventually he withdraws his fingers from your heat and then wordlessly takes hold of your hand, smiling as he rolls onto his back and takes you with him, maneuvering your bodies so that you’re on top, straddling his thighs.

At first you can only look down at him in confusion, your eyebrows raised as you struggle to understand. This uncharacteristic act of submission on his part has left you completely blindsided, and when Jimin reads the expression on your face he chuckles quietly, sitting up for a moment to cup your cheeks in his hands and kiss you with so much passion that it leaves you breathless.

Jimin doesn’t need to say anything when the kiss ends and he lays back down; the love shining in his eyes and the timid, sweet smile on his lips tells you everything you need to know and more. This changing of roles is Jimin trying to demonstrate just how much you mean to him - his relinquishing of control acting as a display of the absolute trust he’s putting in you to not break his already fragile heart. There’s no power games at work now, no daddy and kitten or dirty words, just you and Jimin and the love you share.

If it were a more appropriate moment you would probably already be crying at how the gesture moves you. Your heart feels like it’s grown to twice the usual size inside your chest and as you swallow the lump in your throat you gently stroke Jimin’s hair back from his face, smiling like the lovesick idiot you are. He’s so beautiful, so angelic in appearance… it doesn’t matter how many times you study his face, you’ll never stop being amazed that one person could be so close to perfect even when he’s covered in nicks and bruises like he is now.

“Don’t make me beg, please,” Jimin says quietly, flicking his eyes down to glance at his cock lying hard, swollen and neglected on his stomach, a small pool of pre-cum forming just below his belly-button. He looks back up to you, his hands resting on either side of your hips and squeezing your uninjured side, eager and impatient to be inside you but still mindful of hurting you. You could point out that what he just said was in itself a plea of some sorts, but you’re not sure Jimin’s pride could take it so all you do is smile, leaning over him to capture his lips in the sweetest, most loving of kisses.

You reach down between your bodies and take him in your hand while you kiss, loving the way his length twitches and throbs in your grasp as Jimin lets out a little gasp of pleasure. You shift forward slightly, sitting astride his hips rather than his thighs and lifting yourself so that you’re hovering above him, using your grasp on his cock to teasingly rub the very tip of him through your folds, sighing softly against his mouth. Showing more self-restraint than you ever thought possible you continue to do this for as long as you can bare, waiting for Jimin to start squirming underneath you, digging his fingertips into your hips before you end your mutual agony, his pained expression melting into one of pure bliss as you sink yourself slowly onto his cock.

You let your torso relax forward as you allow yourself time to accommodate his considerable girth, Jimin unhooking your bra and slipping it off you as you kiss and nuzzle at his neck, your hands running through his hair.

“You’re so beautiful Jimin,” you whisper sweetly in his ear as you gradually start to move, and on hearing your words Jimin wraps his arms around you, his chest rising and falling heavily underneath yours. “You make me feel so good…” Rocking your hips steadily back and forth you feel Jimin start to nibble at your earlobe, his breath laboured and husky so close to your ear. It sends delicious jolts of pleasure all along your spine, all the hairs on the back of your neck rising for him to feel as his hand slips up from your back to cradle the back of your head. His other moves down to palm your behind, encouraging the rocking of your body as he helps to flex your hips with gentle downward pressure, rolling his up against you too to get deeper inside and make it even more pleasurable for the both of you.

“Keep-keep doing that,” you tell him breathily, sitting yourself more upright and bracing yourself with your palms flat on his chest as you steadily start to increase your pace, biting your lip as it starts to feel even better than before. Jimin’s cock is brushing against all the right places inside you, the expert movement of his hips just heightening your pleasure all the more, and soon you’re practically mewling with pleasure on top of him, your eyes closed tight as you focus solely on the sensation of him inside you.

One of his hands reaches up to cup your breast, kneading it in his palm as you move, tweaking at the nipple just hard enough to make your inner walls clench and squeeze around him, Jimin moaning sinfully when he feels it and tilting his head back into the pillow.

“Close?” you check, out of breath and sweating slightly from how hard you’re working. You’re alternating between sliding yourself up and down on his cock as well as back and forth, focusing solely on Jimin’s pleasure as you try to ignore the way the muscles in your thighs are complaining. It’s nothing compared to the way your hip is aching anyway, but you try not to think about that, knowing that any soreness you feel afterwards will be more than worth it.

“I’m not cumming without you…” Jimin’s eyes are shrouded and dark with lust as he looks up at you from underneath the strands of his hair that have fallen in front of his face. His dominant side is making a reappearance as his orgasm draws near, you can tell from the way he’s clenching his jaw and grabbing at the tops of your thighs, fingertips digging into your flesh, but honestly you don’t mind at all; being Jimin’s willing subject is all you live and breathe for.

“Please Jimin,” you whine, pressing your nails into his chest, knowing that you could get there yourself eventually but choosing to egg him on, craving the power he exerts over your body when he takes control. “Make me cum, please.”

When he hears your soft, needy pleas, any sense of restraint left in him leaves Jimin entirely. He’s overwhelmed by his urge to take you and claim you, to make you so mindless with pleasure that by the time he’s done the only thing you’ll know is his name. He forgets forgets all about the sweet, loving Jimin that lay beneath you just five minutes ago and grabs savagely at your hips, regardless of how it might hurt you, growling at the back of his throat as he starts to thrust up into you from underneath. He bounces you on his cock like a ragdoll, slamming into you with his powerful thighs, buttocks and hips as they work in tandem, smiling in satisfaction at the way you start to gasp and moan with every thrust.

“You like that?” he grunts, watching your face as it contorts in ecstasy, biting his lip, sweat trickling down the side of his face as he pushes you towards your orgasm. Jimin’s fucking you so hard that you can barely keep your balance, having to fall forward and lean your chest on his for support as he continues his relentless pace.

You moan his name stiltedly into his neck, grabbing onto his hair as he fucks up into you, his cock pounding against your g-spot at the most perfect of angles, and you can feel him getting harder, can feel him getting close, and that just makes it feel all the more incredible. You can feel your own orgasm coming, exquisite pleasure burning hot in your pelvis, every push of Jimin’s hips so intense that it’s almost akin to agony.

“Jimin, god, I-mnff-I’m so close,” you slur, barely realising how hard you're tugging on his hair as you lose all sense of rhythm and coordination, completely at the mercy of Jimin’s every move.

“Me too, fuck, you're gonna make me cum,” he huffs, letting go of your hips to wrap his arms around you, holding your body to his as his motions become sloppier too. He groans your name through gritted teeth and you swear you've never heard a sweeter sound until he moans it again, right in your ear. “Cum with me, c’mon, let it go.”

You gasp when it finally overwhelms you, burning you up from the inside out, every nerve in your body screaming with pleasure as nonsensical sounds pour out of you, muffled by Jimin’s mouth. The moment he feels your walls contract around him Jimin succumbs too. He bites down on your bottom lip as he cums, hard, spilling into you with in a series of deep, slow thrusts, his cock twitching sporadically until both of you are completely spent.

As soon as you manage to summon the will to move you sluggishly turn your head to the side, letting it fall onto the pillow as you try to catch your breath. You’ve got a stupid, blissed out smile on your face that must be infectious, because when Jimin turns to look at you his full lips curve into the softest, sweetest of smiles too.

“Love you,” you whisper quietly and Jimin’s smile only grows, his eyes creasing with happiness.

“Love you,” he whispers back, caressing your cheek softly. It’s only then, in that after-sex glow when you let your eyes drift lazily over his face, that you realise that Jimin neglected to take the opportunity to feed. The bruising on his face is coming along nicely, turning a deep purple in several different spots, the bridge of his nose painfully swollen too. He’d probably look a mess if he weren’t so damn beautiful to begin with.

“Why didn’t you feed? You haven’t had any in days,” you say, sounding more chastising than you intend to as you sit up, climbing off of him to sit at his side instead, removing your collar. It's funny how your concern for him cuts straight through the lingering haze of your orgasm, your mind suddenly crystal clear when it comes to ensuring Jimin's health and happiness.

“Don’t,” Jimin interrupts, sitting upright too and taking hold of your wrist firmly, stopping you midway. You cock your head in confusion, frowning, but he just shakes his head. “I deserve these. I shouldn’t get away so lightly.”

“Jimin…” You pull your wrist from his grasp, continuing to take it off despite his objections, pushing your hair to one side. “I can’t stand seeing you hurt like this, whether you think you deserve it or not.” Tilting your head to the side you look at him imploringly, hoping that the sight of your exposed, vulnerable skin will lure him in. “Please.”

It’s working; you can tell by the way Jimin’s eyes are drawn to your neck, fixating on your jugular as it visibly pulses with blood, your heart beating hard and fast from all the exertion you just endured. He licks his lips, eyes darting up to yours for just a split second before he pounces, fixing his hand in your hair and tugging your head further to the side as he slices into your neck, fangs piercing hard and deep.

You let out a strangled moan, clutching onto his shoulders as that pain-pleasure mix washes over you, endorphins winning the fight over adrenaline and making your head swim as he drags the blood from your veins. For someone that had said he didn’t want it, Jimin’s certainly making the most of your offer. He gorges himself on you, drinking almost to the point of you passing out and only stopping when he realises how you’re starting to sag against him, your grip on him going lax, hands falling to your sides.

You don’t begrudge him for it though, not when it’s left you feeling so wonderfully high. If it weren’t for the fact you’d only just orgasmed you’re sure it would’ve happened again during his feed, but you don’t really mind missing out on that either. In fact, you don’t really care much about anything right now, happy to let Jimin manhandle you into a suitable position for sleep, smiling goofily up at him as he leans over you with concern in his eyes.

“See?” you giggle, reaching up and patting his now pristine cheek, “All better.”

“Are you ok? I took too much, didn’t I?”

“I’m fine Jiminie, promise,” you grin, having to close your eyes because of the way the room is spinning, “Jus’ need some sleep. Now come on, come cuddle.” Jimin let’s you pull on his shoulders, falling into bed next to you and rolling onto his back to accommodate the way you’re already trying to snuggle up to him. He helps you into his arms, laughing softly when you nuzzle into his chest making strange little noises of contentment, slinging your arm over his waist and squeezing him tight.

“Hmm… nightie night.” You fall asleep so fast and so deep that you don’t even feel the kiss Jimin affectionately presses to the top of your head or him quietly you wishing you the sweetest of dreams.

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seoulscenarios · 6 years

Text

College AU! Yang Jeongin

Well,,, the end is finally here and i can’t thank everyone enough for showing this series so much love and support! I can’t believe it’s finally the end i’m close to tears everyone! I hope you enjoy this last installment <3

-Major: Art and Design

-Minor: Applied Music

-Sports: he was scouted by the track and field coach bc he saw jeongin run across campus extremely fast carrying a massive art folder bc he was late for class so jeongin went,,, and stayed though he’s not the fastest he gets doted on by all the seniors who coo over him bc wow look at this adorable kid

-Clubs: photography bc he loves taking photos but not enough to analyse them lmao, also goes to choir but he’s a very nervous boy bc the choirmaster is SCARY

-Jeongin being the youngest means he gets smothered with love and he’s like hYUNG PLS GET OFF ME but he secretly loves it bc it means they all buy him food so he doesn’t have to pay for it himself ;)

-Literally the only reason he puts up with the cuddles is so they treat him afterwards

-(Though when he is tired he lets Chan pull him in onto his lap and he just snuggles up to him bc he’s just a tired soft boy)

-(When he wakes up he tells Chan not to tell his flatmate Jisung bc otherwise Jisung would chase him for hugs all the time)

-Jeongin is literally the campus cutie and literally all the seniors help him carry his art folder and he’s like !!!! I can do it myself and they just reply by ruffling his hair and taking his art folder whilst trying to balance 5 textbooks and he’s worried but doesn’t know how to tell them it’s fine

-Let’s just take a moment to appreciate Jeongin who goes to his art classes wearing overalls and a striped shirt, with circle glasses and a big grin bc he’s finally painting mY HEART

-Jeongin’s preferred medium is paint but he is also partial to chalks bc he’s just a kid okay let him have this

-You can always spot him bc he’s always covered in paint splatters no matter how many times he’s tried to get the stains out it’s very adorable

-He really loves to paint especially in summer and he goes to the park and paints the scenery bc everyone is happy and so is he

-His room is just filled with stacks of paintings from his adventures at the park

-Jisung tries to get Jeongin to paint him and just sits pouting on his bed and jeongin REFUSES bc he can’t draw people let alone paint them and he STRESSES and Jisung is like oh NO DON’T STRESS

-Jisung, backhugging a confused Jeongin: stress is bad for the baby

-Jeongin: hyung, I’m not a baby

-Jisung: I’M the baby shhh let me hug you

-Jeongin: hYUNG

-Jeongin is secretly happy to live with Jisung bc the two of them are just big kids but Jisung is like his biggest supporter

-He’s struggling with a piece of artwork? Jisung treats it like the Mona Lisa and Jeongin is EMBARRASSED but has a lot more faith in his work and his teacher loves it

-Jeongin texts Jisung when he gets his grade and Jisung is like THAT’S MY BABY YOU DID THAT

-The only problem with Jeongin and Jisung living together,,,, is they are actual children and Woojin is almost constantly round to clean up after them bc it’s just a whirlwind of paint splatters and crumpled up paper

-Woojin couldn’t even find the plates until he was putting the groceries away and found them in the freezer????

-(yes Woojin does food shopping for the boys bc otherwise they’d be living off takeout and instant ramyeon and woojin’s like ur not getting the right nutrients as he stockpiles their fridge and cupboards with rice and vegetables and pre-cooked dinners courtesy of Chan who was stress cooking the other day)

-Jeongin just shrugs and returns to his easel

-Oh,,, the boys don’t really understand his work but they love and support anyway

-Jeongin,,, what is that?

-It’s a building landscape?

-Umm… sure it looks amazing sweetie you’re doing so well

-Jeongin just loves abstract paintings that confused people and you bet he has a picture of him with some of picasso’s work framed on his desk

-His mantra: if Picasso can do it, so can i

-His professors love his work bc he’s the literal sunshine when he’s in class and he answers questions very cutely and they’re like,,,, we shouldn’t have favourites but damn it’s Jeongin

-The students can’t even argue bc,,, their favourite too, is Jeongin

-But he is a genuinely great artist and everyone admires his stuff

-He even got one of his first of ever pieces put on display and all the prospective students are like ?!??! this is done by a FIRST YEAR

-That’s privilege bc only final year students have their stuff displayed in the art department

-When Chan was picking Jeongin up from class and saw his artwork on the wall he took a photo of it on his phone and sends it too Woojin and they’re both,,, look at our son go we’re so proud of you :’)

-You can almost guarantee Chan took the boys out for a celebratory meal and they’re all like,,, we don’t know the occasion but free food?? Sign me up

-Jeongin just sits there and is very confused bc he too doesn’t know the reason but Chan orders him his favourite dish and he’s a very happy baby

-Chan does a toast to his youngest son Jeongin just DIES bc why is Chan embarrassing him like this and why is the whole restaurant cheering for me

-Cue Jeongin melting into his seat, hoping for the floor to just swallow him up there and then tbh

-He’s just a flustered boy when people compliment his work bc he works so damn hard and he doesn’t think what he produces is good enough

-And everyone is like Okay who are we fighting :)

-Jeongin’s like,,, no one??? I said it’s not good enough

-Everyone:…. Time to smother you in cuddles and compliments until you believe in yourself

-Jeongin: o h n o

-He tries to run but,,, Seungmin’s arm is flung out and omg since when was Seungmin strong (he concludes it’s all the law book he carries around) and long story short; jeongin finds himself in a cuddle pile for a good hour and given so many compliments bc they just want him to feel better and more confident :’)

-ALSO,, at 3RACHA gigs he’s the most hyped there (besides Jisung but he never rests)

-He’s there with his little glow sticks and jumping up and down in his seat bc they’re his hyungs and he’s so proud of them

-Can we also take another moment to accept the fact that Jeongin goes to Chan and Changbin for singing advice bc he trusts them and they really help him improve esp his confidence

-He goes to choir practice and asks the scary choirmaster if he can audition for a solo part

-He agrees, a little sceptical bc he’s never heard Jeongin sing properly before, and boy is he SHOCKED bc he has a really good voice ???

-Everyone is outside the audition room and are genuinely surprised that their resident youngest is good at singing??

-Jeongin goes to Chan’s apartment after choir practice BEAMING and chan’s like,,, what happened???

-I got a solo part in the concert at Christmas

-tIME FOR ANOTHER CELEBRATION

-HYUNG DO WE HAVE TO?

-YES IT’S TRADITION

-Chan treating the boys no matter how small or big their achievements are? Of course he does,,, it’s a good job he gets money from producing money or else he would be BROKE

-Another thing about Jeongin

-He volunteers at the local vet to help look after the dogs

-Jeongin cuddling with puppies after they have had a flea shot or something??? A CONCEPT

-He loves all of the animals and all the clients love the soft boy and they’re like,,, oh you must be doing a vet course

-And he’s like oh no !! I just like to volunteer here bc they needed someone to help them!!

-A pure boy I’m crying

-He mainly works at the reception bc he’s not qualified to be in the practice rooms but that also means when it’s not very busy he can go over and pet the animals (if their owners let them which they always do bc how can you refuse Jeongin anything) and it’s just very soft

-One of his favourite clients is this woman who has a pregnant golden retriever who comes in for checkups weekly bc her dog isn’t the best condition health wise and Jeongin gets sad whenever he reads the file when he’s booking the appointment

-However,, the owner lets him hug her dog and Jeongin cuddling a golden retriever?? I’m sobbing

-Like imagine a smiley Jeongin with his arms wrapped around the dog’s neck and she’s really happy bc Jeongin is just the softest boy and she’s wagging her tail happily and everyone in the reception area is dying at how cute the image is

-One time Jeongin found himself cross legged on the floor with the dog’s head in his lap whilst he was cradling a puppy and his supervisor nearly scolded him but when he saw how serene the two animals were he softened bc he’d never seen them so calm in the vets

-Jeongin,,, why didn’t you choose to study veterinary you’re so suited to it?

-Easy, I failed biology and chemistry,,, I’m just not good academically

-After the woman’s dog gave birth to seven healthy pups she actually offered Jeongin a job to walk the puppies once they were old enough

-Jeongin lost his collective marbles bc being paid to walk dogs??? His favourite animals in the world?? He nearly cried but told the woman he would do it free

-She refused bc he’s too good with the dogs and she wanted to reward him bc he wasn’t being paid at the vets

-He nearly cried when she paid him for the first time and was like ma’am it’s not really worth this much!!!

-She just replies by ruffling his hair and telling him to go and have fun bc he’s just a kid

-Jeongin uses that money on new art equipment and Jisung is like,,, is chan giving you an allowance smh favouritism

-Jisung calm down I actually have a job

-You,,, have a job??? Omg how did a child get a job before me??

-Hyung,,, you earn money bc of 3RACHA ?? just bc you spend it all on Cheetos or something doesn’t mean I do

-You little sh- WAIT what even is your job?

-I walk dogs

-That’s so pure I can’t be mad

-That’s how you actually meet Jeongin, when he’s walking the dogs

-You’re just chilling in the park with your book bc it’s a really nice day and ur like,,, well it’s time to enjoy the sunshine before midterms roll around

-You’re lying down reading your book when something wet is nosing at your hand and ur like WTF IS GOING ON

-You pull your book away from your face and ur greeted with a puppy??

-I mean,, ur not complaining bc it’s a cute puppy and before you know it the puppy has jumped on you so ur just like,,, this is my best life I’m living right now

-You’re worried tho bc this puppy must belong to someone so you try and take a peek at the collar but it just bites your hand playfully and ur like,,, the betrayal

-After about 10 minutes of playing the puppy falls asleep on your lap and ur like f r i c k what do I do now

-You contemplate calling the vet bc you really don’t know what to do with a lost puppy?? And you know the vet is close by and normally take in lost pets

-You decided that it was the best course of action and are looking up the vet’s phone number when you see a figure with about 6 other dogs on a leash calling out a name

-You breathe a sigh of relief and slowly pick up the puppy and began walking up to supposed owner

-Jeongin,,, on the other hand is S T R E S S E D

-How could he lose a puppy so easily??? I mean when you’re walking 7 of them and they all have a lot of energy and pulling you in different directions,,,, it’s understandable

-However it’s been 15 minutes and he still can’t find the puppy so he PANICS and is frantically searching the park calling the pups’ name when a stranger walks up to him cradling the puppy

-Jeongin is RELIEVED bc omg the puppy is back and he tries to scoop the pup into his arms but you know,,, his hands are pull with six other leashes

-You laugh watching him try and struggle and he BLUSHES

-Ur like,,, oh he’s CUTE

-“It’s okay, I can help you if you want. This little rascal fell asleep anyway and the others look like a handful”

-“Y-you want to help me? B-but you don’t know me?” jeongin is very confused

-“Of course I want to help you! It must be very difficult to walk 7 over hyper puppies I’d love to help you”

-Jeongin just flashes you a big grin and oh no he has braces and a gummy smile and ur like F R I C K call the ambulance

-He hands you two of the leashes, warning you that it might be difficult to control them

-You just laugh again bc,,, how could it be THAT difficult to walk two puppies and hold a third

-Answer: very difficult and oh my life how does this mystery boy do it you think as the pups are nearly pulling your arm out of your socket

-Once the pups tire out a bit, you and Jeongin finally get the chance to talk

-You find out his name, his major and u can’t help but admire the fact he volunteers at the vets bc it’s so cute

-You’re also shocked that he’s not studying veterinary bc he seems so natural but once he enthused about Picasso ur like,,, ofc this boy is an art major

-You also introduce yourself and he’s in awe at the fact you study pharmaceutical science bc,,, wow that must be so hard you must be like a genius or something ??!?!?

-You just blush hard bc hello,,, a cute boy just called you a genius ?

-You protest saying that it’s not that much and it’s really boring hahah

-And he’s like no!!! it’s really cool like you’re literally going to be able to save people’s lives in the future that’s awesome

-You blush again and Jeongin’s like,,, oh I got over enthusiastic about it :( and suddenly the clouds have covered the sun and ur like why are you sad???

-He’s like,, I scared you off didn’t I?? I’m sorry if I got too into your subject :(

-Ur just in shock bc,,, no one has ever showed interest in your course before so you’re just in shock bc u don’t know how to react

-You just protest and say that it’s okay,,, no one ever really pays attention to my course they’re just like heh drugs but like,, ur being all nice about it it’s ,,,,, nice

-Suddenly the sun is back bc Jeongin smiles and asks you more about it

-As your describing how the heart reacts to different types of drugs, you and Jeongin had reached the lady’s house and you’re handing the dogs back to her n ur kinda sad bc,,, you probably won’t see Jeongin again

-BUT he walks you back to your dorm and is like,,, thank you so much for helping me even though you didn’t have to!!!

-Ur like no problem !! maybe we can do it again it was fun!!!

-Jeongin’s ears flush and he just nods, giving you his phone number so you can arrange another day to walk the dogs

-You and Jeongin meet at least once a week, sometimes more if the weather is nice and you’re not busy with lab stuff and the two of you walk the pups together

-It’s just really soft and sometimes you go and get ice cream together

-Why can’t I help you walk the dogs?

-Jisung hyung,,, you’re nearly as bad as the dogs

-I’m offended

-The two of you grow closer, bonded by the dogs, and you could say,, it’s puppy love (I shall see myself out)

-It’s just,,,, the two of you look so adorable walking the dogs together and occasionally eating ice cream it’s so cute?!?!

-One time Jeongin wiped ice cream from the corner of your lips and you couldn’t look him in the eye for DAYS bc you were so embarrassed but Jeongin just found it adorable but also H E C K why did he do that I must be a fool

-A lovesick fool Jeongin

-Yes,, he had developed a little crush on you and it was the sweetest bc he would pay for your ice cream or give you his jacket if it got a little cold

-One time you came by to walk the dogs and u were running on like 3 hours asleep bc of ur lab report and Jeongin was like !!! no I’m walking you home rn no BUTS

-U just accept it bc ur so tired but everyone who’s on campus is like ?!?! PUPPIES AT 12 O’CLOCK BUT ALSO JEONGIN IS WALKING THEM AND SOMEONE IS WITH HIM THAT ISN’T HIS FRIENDS THIS IS NOT AN ALARM

-Some people do actually stop and pet the puppers but Jeongin is like excuse me sorry we have an emergency and grabs your hand, pulling you through the small crowd

-OoooOOOooH

-(also,, Jeongin holding your hand and 5 puppies leashes whilst you have the other two?? A talented boy)

-He walks you right up to your apartment building, sad that he couldn’t come in and make sure you were resting instead of studying but he had 7 puppies and animals were banned

-You text him the next day after you slept for a good 18 hours and Jeongin just spams you with smiley faces and heart stickers n ur like,,, hello is the ambulance I’m in need of medical assistance

-Jeongin is blushing bc why the heck did he send so many heart stickers to you

-But when you reply with even more,,, Jeongin full on BEAMS and Jisung is like,,, dude u good

-I’M FINE LET ME LIVE

-Anyway since that incident you and Jeongin text more,, and you even meet up outside of walking the dogs

-Like,,, you told him that you were working late in the labs bc you were doing some more research for your synthesis of simple drugs module

-So this cutie rocked up with some snacks and a hot chocolates from the campus coffee shop,, albeit he got lost bc why are labs so confusing ??? why is science confusing ??? this is why he failed science at high school lmao

-You are very shocked to say the least bc,,, no one has EVER bought you a drink before let alone to the lab when ur working

-U blush and thank him bc,,, how could u not he’s so sweet

-The two of you just sit there drinking your hot chocolates as he tells you about his day in the art department and how someone ruined their work by dropping into someone else’s palette of oil paints n they cried

-You were laughing bc jeongin has such an enigmatic way of telling stories that you couldn’t NOT laugh at them

-Also,,, he looked damn cute in his denim overalls and sweater that you just wanted to kiss his cheeks

-Little did you know,,, that jeongin too thought you looked really cute in your lab coat and a pencil behind your ear bc you looked so professional ??? but also had a bit of cream on ur upper lip from the hot chocolate

-He just giggles and leans in to wipe it off

-The both of you just freeze bc,,, H E C K

-You just think,, screw it and swoop in to kiss his cheek and he nearly damn DROPS his hot chocolate bc that was so cute

-“Maybe,,, we should go on a proper date at the weekend?” you ask him shyly

-“YES!”

-(He stays with you whilst you finish your lab stuff off and he’s in admiration as you’re concentrating and he thinks it’s really cute,,,, pls protect him)

-DATING JEONGIN:

-So,,, you two are literally the campus sweethearts ?

-Like,,, you’re both always just shyly walking across campus together and everyone is like wow look at our children go

-When Chan finds out that you’re dating he literally cries bc his youngest son is grown up and Jeongin is like,,, for the last time I’m not your son

-You just giggle into your sleeve as Chan pulls him in for a hug whilst Jeongin is like mOM GET OFF

-Speaking of skinship,,, the two of you are very to shy to initiate it at first and it takes like weeks before Jeongin works up the courage to hold your hand in public

-Not that you were much better bc u were nervous as heck bc what if he didn’t like it but little did you know he was trying to psych himself up for it

-When he finally did u were just a smiley blushy mess and he was no better

-Since that day tho, Jeongin LOVES holding your hand

-He literally never lets go of your hand at any point if I can help it,,, it just makes him so happy ?? The feel of your hand slipped into his makes him smile so much

-The feeling of your fingers tangled together, no matter how tight or loose, fills him with so much giddiness that one day ur like Jeongin why do you like holding my hand so much

-And he tries to explain but he cant quite articulate it properly, setting on “it feels nice and I feel so,, warm and happy” and you just giggle, tightening your grip on his hand

-Cuddles,,, at first were rare but the more comfortable you got you can bet that Jeongin initiates them a lot

-Jisung gets jealous when he sees the two of you huddled up on the sofa, your head on his shoulder and hands interlocked bc when will Jeongin cuddle me

-Jeongin just flips him off and continues to cuddle you

-Chan, somewhere on campus: did,,, my son just swear???

-Yeah he’s just a cuddle bug around you and he loves to be backhugged by you bc he can play with your hands and you get to smush ur face into his shoulder it’s very soft

-He especially loves it when you backhug him whilst he’s in the art studio when he’s sketching or painting something,,, just give him warning otherwise he WILL jump and nearly ruin his artwork as you learnt one day oops

-But he just feels so serene and relaxed as you rest your chin on his shoulder and your arms settle around his middle

-The two of you go on so many cute dates as well??

-Like,, there’s a dog café opening up near ur uni and jeongin is like,,, Y/N do you wanna go and pet some dogs and maybe hold hands and ur like,, jeongin we do that nearly everyday but sure where are we going

-He just drags you to the dog café and you spend literally the whole day there hugging dogs and drinking probably overpriced smoothies but who cares,,, the dogs are cute (but u think Jeongin is cuter but don’t tell him that or else he will tackle u and say that ALL dogs are cuter than him) and you get to spend all day with your boyfriend ???

-Jeongin also snaps many photos of you cuddling the dogs bc you look so happy and cute surrounded by so many dogs that he couldn’t resist

-He uploads his favourite ones to Instagram and all the boys are posting extremely cute comments bc our jeonginnie is all grown up and his partner is so cute :’( :’(

-You meet the boys in the park one day bc Jeongin is like,,, u have to save me bc otherwise they will attack me with cuddle

-You agree but are like,,, ur fine with me attacking you with cuddles

-He’s just,,, Y/N ur my significant other you are ALLOWED to cuddle me and,,, I like it when u cuddle me

-You just giggle and grab his hand as you walk to the park

-They’re an interesting bunch to say the least,,, Jisung threatens u in case u hurt his baby n ur like !!!!! but jeongin reassures you that Jisung can’t hurt anyone he’s too small to be frightening it’s seungmin you have to watch out for

-You’re shocked bc Seungmin looks so nice ?? and pure??? Until 10 minutes later Hyunjin throws a bottle at him and Seungmin full on launches his textbook at him and ur like nvm I see what you mean

-Chan and Woojin sit with you and Jeongin and they ask you about how the two of you met, and what you study and stuff

-You’re a bit overwhelmed but Jeongin helps you out and is holding your hand tightly so u feel safe and Chan’s like pure love but also,,, u don’t have to answer out questions if it’s too much we just want to get to know you better!!!

-And ur like,,, it’s fine I’m just a little nervous bc everyone is so,, loud??

-Woojin just apologises for them and says u kinda get used to it once you spend more time with them

-And you do, bc they always invite you out when they do stuff and suddenly the loud volume is normal and u don’t mind it anymore

-You and Jeongin do study together though,, with being in such different majors it’s kinda difficult

-Though you can always be found in an empty art studio as Jeongin is painting on a canvas and ur sat surrounded by diagrams of the heart and cardiovascular system and everyone’s like,,, this is odd but it’s cute we support 10/10

-Jeongin likes to help you study by testing you on different terms and you think it’s really cute when he mispronounces words and tries to blame it on his braces but u both know its bc he has absolutely no idea how to pronounce oxidoreductases but he tried his best okay

-He got a little pouty when you laughed at his pronunciation of haemoglobin so you had to kiss his nose and cheeks in order for him to forgive you and he was just a blushy mess when you pressed a further quick peck to his lips UWU

-Jeongin, despite not liking drawing portraits, loves to sketch you and in particular,, your back profile

-That way,, he didn’t have to worry about your face and could sketch the backdrop as well

-One day you were on a date in the park and you were sat reading your book whilst Jeongin had his sketchpad out

-He began to sketch you bc you looked so perfect and Jeongin couldn’t quite believe you were his that he wanted to immortalise it on paper and on ur 6 months he gave you the sketch and you cried bc it was perfect

-(You got it framed and it’s now hung up in your room and every time you see it you just smile bc it reminds you of all the good things in life)

-You and Jeongin were just the cutest couple that everyone dotes on a lot

-One time,, you both wore matching dungarees and sweaters and circle glasses and you walked onto campus giggling, holding hands and EVERYONE collectively awed and Chan even snapped a photo of you two bc you both looked so happy and in love that he had to wipe a stray tear from his eyes

-He sent it to Jeongin with loads of happy faces and Jeongin was like,,, hyung ur photo skills aren’t the best but somehow,,, it looks good I’m gonna thank Y/N for significantly improving this photo thanks hyung

-No problem son :)

-Jeongin frames it and keeps a copy in the back of your phone so you both have a copy of it and wow ur so adorable

-The campus sweethearts are just the cutest I’m crying

THE END IS HERE IM SO SAD i loved writing these aus so much i can’t believe it’s over!! this series is a big thank you to our first 100 followers and hopefully,, here’s to all our new followers who are here and support us we love you so much and we hope you’re happy and healthy

(also,, happy 100 days with stray kids!!!)

Much love <3 <3 <3 <3

[edit: we just hit 200 followers?! im crying i love you all so much!!!]

[edit 2: this is completely irrelevant but also kind of relevant bc i just passed my second year of college and im extremely happy!!!]

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids yang jeongin #stray kids i.n #jeongin #yang jeongin #yang jeongin imagines #yang jeongin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #yang jeongin college au #college au #thank u for ur support and love #we love you all

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laraholl-blog · 6 years

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Rosie was sleeping soundly when she was awakened by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes only to see her wife in obvious distress. "What's up, love?" she asked softly, the sleep still in her already raspy voice. "Panic attack," were the only words Rose could get out, her breath laboured. Rosie immediately came to her senses, like her body had just gotten the full effect of two cups of coffee.

Rosie still remembered the first time it had happened while she was with Rose. It had been terrifying for both of them. Rose couldn’t get to sleep that night, even though Rosie was slumbering peacefully next to her. She knew she was getting panicky, she could feel her own anxiety rise, but their relationship was new enough then that she didn’t even think of waking Rosie up and tried to get through it on her own. She regretted it later though, when she had worked herself into a full blown panic and Rosie had woken up anyway because of Rose’s loud crying and panting. Eventually Rosie started crying too, because she couldn’t get Rose to explain what was wrong, she had no idea what to do, and she felt horribly helpless. If someone had asked Rosie – what’s the thing you hate the most, what’s your least favourite feeling in the world – this would have been her reply. Being unable to soothe the woman she loved.

She wanted to call an ambulance that night, because she genuinely believed Rose was going to die from choking on her own inability to breathe. But as she started to dial, Rose began crying even harder and shaking her head. “Do I call Laura?” Rosie asked, at the end of her wit, and this time Rose’s reaction seemed a little more positive. Rosie had to fumble among blankets and sheets to recover Rose’s phone, found Laura’s number, and called her, feeling the most useless girlfriend ever. Laura was a bit annoyed when she answered her phone, since it was about 4:30 A.M., but she got worried upon hearing Rosie’s frightened voice. When Rosie explained through tears what was happening, Laura calmed down, still sad for Rose but relieved her sister wasn’t dead or in danger. “She’s having a panic attack,” she said to Rosie matter-of-factly. “Hand the phone over to her”. Which Rosie did. Whatever Laura was saying to Rose to guide her through her panic attack, Rosie couldn’t hear it; but it seemed to work, because after a few minutes Rose had stopped crying, and her breath was more regular.

When she felt calm enough to get off the phone with Laura, Rose was overcome by pure fatigue because of the last hour’s events. She mumbled a few words of apology to Rosie, feeling embarrassed as well, saying she really wanted to sleep now, and that she would explain tomorrow. She took Rosie’s hand in hers and fell asleep right away. Rosie lied awake for another hour and a half, thinking about what had happened, trying to calm herself down as well, not bothering to try and get back to sleep since she had to get up to go to work in a bit anyway.

They did talk about it the next day. Rose explained that she had been suffering from panic attacks since she was about twelve. She told Rosie that they had gotten less severe and happened less often since her terrible teenage years, but still something like this happened every couple of months, sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes during the day, even when she was out in public. It was something entirely different, she explained, from the feelings of anxiety she experienced because of her OCD. Maybe they were related, maybe not: these kind of panic attacks had no reason at all, no identifiable trigger whatsoever, and that was what was so terrible about them. Rosie could feel that Rose was embarrassed and tense about this, so she let her girlfriend go back to her usual playful self after she’d given her this minimum amount of information. But Rosie, not being a terrible girlfriend at all, but in fact a really good one, went on and did her own research. The next time it happened, while they were out shopping at Tesco’s, she managed to bring Rose down on her own without having to call anyone. She didn’t even cry herself, even though her heart completely broke at the sight of Rose sweating and trembling and crying and gasping for air in the fruit and veggies aisle.

So this wasn’t the first time it had happened. Not even the second, or third, and Rosie knew perfectly well what to do. This hadn’t happened for quite some time now, but she was still a pro at it, she thought with sadness. On seeing Rose’s frightened eyes and hearing her choked breath she didn’t lose a single second. She placed a hand on Rose’s belly, gently bringing her down with her from her sitting position into a comfy horizontal one. She cuddled around Rose, feeling her girlfriend’s muscles all stiff with strain. Rose was still having a hard time breathing and looked at Rosie with pure terror in her eyes. “Rosie, love,” Rosie murmured softly into Rose’s ear, affectionately calling her wife with her own name. “You’re safe, baby, you’re here with me. You’re not in any danger, it’s just a panic attack. It’ll be over in ten minutes tops, and you’re gonna be fine, love.” Rosie kept caressing Rose’s belly as she was lavishing her wife with the most soothing words she could think of, in the softest voice that she could. She was warm from being under the covers, and Rose was sweating profusely, but still Rosie snuggled closer to Rose. She took her hand and brought it to her chest. “Can you feel my heartbeat, baby?” Rose nodded after a few second, her eyes wide open, her hand pressing into Rosie’s chest. “Good girl,” Rosie encouraged her. “Feel my heartbeat, focus on it for a while, baby. Try and concentrate on its rhythm. You’re ok, love, I got you, I’m here with you.”

Rosie planted a kiss on Rose’s head, lingering with her lips against her wife’s hair for a few seconds. She could feel Rose working very hard to inhale and exhale, with little success. “Can you feel me breathing, Rosie? Try and breathe like I am, love. Feel my hand on your tummy? Try and push it up, fill your tummy with air, baby. It’ll be over soon, Rose, I promise.” Rose could finally take in some air. “Just like that. You’re doing fine, baby. Exhale now, I’m going to push a bit with my hand on your tummy to help you get it out. Now try and breathe in again, my love.”

They kept at this for a few minutes. Rose’s laboured breathing became a little bit easier with each successful breath, always encouraged by Rosie’s soft whispers. She still gasped once or twice, but her breath was mostly regular now. Rosie wanted to keep talking to Rose, and she tried to think of happy things she could remind her wife of, to distract her and comfort her. This was tricky, though: their new book, their new house, the upcoming tour – all these were happy things, yes, but a little scary too, and Rosie decided not to risk mentioning them in case they brought Rose to a deeper state of anxiety. She settled on reminding Rose of their previous night walk with Wilma, how relaxed they had felt on that unusually warm British spring night, how they had held hands under the stars, happy even in that ordinary mundane moment while the little doggie thoroughly enjoyed herself. Rosie had painted such a soothing picture with her words that Rose couldn’t help enjoying the memory and relaxing a bit.

Rosie sensed this, and she felt relieved that the worst was over. She moved a bit and put her free arm under Rose’s neck, drawing her face close to her and kissing her softly under her ear. Rose felt better, but still very raw. The gesture made her eyes fill with tears, and she started to cry softly. “Rosie, I’m sorry, I…” Rose spoke, trying to reassure her wife that she was ok, that she didn’t feel like she was going to die anymore, and to explain that she didn’t really know why she was crying, but she couldn’t get the words out. “Shh, baby, I know. Don’t worry about it, love, go ahead and let it all out. Just try and keep breathing regularly” Rosie comforted her wife, brushing the hair away from Rose’s sweaty forehead, gently cradling and rocking her. When Rose stopped crying a couple of minutes later, she felt like she had got run over by a bus. She kept herself close to Rosie, not really wanting to let go, not wanting her wife to stop caressing her hair. “Are you ok, baby?” Rosie asked. “Are you warm enough, are you thirsty? Do you need to go for a wee wee?” Rose shook her head. “You should drink something though, love, let me get some water for you.” Rosie started to move, but Rose held her close. “Can we stay like this for a couple more minutes?” Rose asked, her voice hoarse from having cried. “Of course, love. Of course we can.” Rose fell asleep instantly in the warmth of their embrace. Rosie didn’t have the heart to wake her up after the night she’d had, and decided that water could wait until the morning.

When Rosie woke up she found the bed next to her empty, except for Wilma sleeping on her feet. She glanced at her phone and, finding it was quite late already, she decided to get up and go downstairs. When she got to the kitchen she was amazed to see a full breakfast on the table, together with a single rose, and her wife attending to the boiling water on the opposite side of the room. Flynn rubbed against her legs and meowed, catching Rose’s attention. Rose turned and saw Rosie, still sleepy and as cute as can be in her pink jammies and slippers. “Good morning sleepyhead!” Rose grinned, having gone fully back to her usual playful, happy self. She marched towards Rosie with one of her funny walks, and when she got near her, she picked her up with some difficulty and tried to carry her to the table. Of course she failed spectacularly and they both collapsed, laughing, Rosie landing on Rose, and Rose on the hard floor. “OUUUCH!” yelled Rose. “It’s all your fault Rosie! Stop making me pick you up and carry you around!” Rose laughed at her own shenanigans and Rosie laughed along. Still half-sitting, half-lying on the floor, they kissed slowly, and kept on nose-nuzzling even after they had stopped. Rose was suddenly serious again. She took a deep breath, and started speaking: “Rosie, I wanted to thank you. I know it’s not enough to simply make you some breakfast, it could never be enough, but you were so good to me earlier, I just wanted to do something to show you immediately how grateful I am and…” Rosie put a hand on her mouth. “Babe, we’re married. That’s what married people do. Be there for each other. I want to be there for you. I love you.” Rose playfully bit Rosie’s hand. “I love you too, Roseanne Elizabeth Spaughton. I’d do anything for you.” “Anything?” “Yeah, pretty much.” “Princess time, then.” “At your service, my lady.”

#rose and rosie #fanfiction #rose and rosie fanfiction #rose ellen dix #the roxetera #panic attacks #fanfic #ffic #the roses #lesbian #lesbian youtubers #LGBT #bisexual #mental health #copenhagen

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