#and keep writing but still give it a break?!?!

[rosylix]

Hii! I've never requested but I can't get this idea out of my mind..

So basically Felix and reader have been college roommates for a year or two but Felix ends up falling for them and has to tell them cos it’s only a few months till graduation.

Totally understand if you can't do it, but thought I'd ask!

everglow

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓂𝓸𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓮𝓍𝓉𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝓅𝓮𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁

your best friend and roommate is acting especially sentimental tonight. you try to get to the bottom of it

pairing: felix × gn!reader

wc: 6.3k

content: college au, friends to lovers, feelings realization, shy felix, oblivious reader, they're nerds, fluff, light angst, crying?, pouty lix, kissing, mildly suggestive?, hopeful ending

a/n: my first fulfilled request?? i apologize if this was sitting in my inbox for forever.. i wasn't planning on writing a whole thing but then suddenly. i had an epiphany. ty for helping me out of writers block anon 🫶 i hope this is kinda how you were envisioning it!

[also read on ao3]

—

Your college dorm is a familiar sight, the mess of papers and coffee cups giving away the fact that the end of the year is fast approaching. You've been sharing this space with Felix for the past couple years, both of you working hard to keep your grades up and—hopefully, somehow—graduate?

…You're sure it'll be fine. As long as you do well enough on your capstone project, which is why you're sitting at Felix's desk, dutifully researching. Sometimes you take to his room when you need a change of scenery or just want company; though it's just you right now as Felix had to leave for class earlier.

You're just about to take a stretch break when you hear the front door open and soon enough, Felix trudges into the room. “Still here?” he says when he sees you.

“Unfortunately.” You set your things down and look over at him with a long sigh to convey your exhaustion.

“Dude, same,” he groans, tossing his bag on the floor before flopping down on his bed. “I don't think I've ever been so fucking tired in my life. Why did I pursue higher education again?”

That gets you to laugh a little. “Maybe for some kind of high-paying job and… a sense of accomplishment?” you suggest.

He lets out another groan, rolling over on his side. “But at what fucking cost? Sleep deprivation and a caffeine addiction?” He looks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Remind me why I'm doing this again.”

You get up and walk over to his bed, sitting down on the edge next to him, a playful smile on your face. “Well, I seem to recall someone who said they wanted to be some hot shot computer engineer.”

He props himself up on one elbow to face you. “Ooh, you think I'm hot?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You give him a look that hopefully conveys how much of an idiot you think he is. “Hot shot, dumbass.” 

…Still, it would be dishonest to disagree: your roommate is attractive. Anyone with a working set of eyes can see that.

“Ohh, I see. You think I'm hot shit?”

You roll your eyes so far back it almost hurts. “As if you don't hear that enough.”

He grins, clearly amused and clearly not above shamelessly fishing for compliments. “Oh, but it's so much more fun to hear it from you,” he teases, leaning back against his pillow.

You give him a withering glare but he just reaches out and pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Come sit down.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I am literally sitting down.”

“Okay, well, closer, genius.”

You sigh exaggeratedly, but you humor him anyway, scooting over closer to where he's lounging on the bed. You thought that was enough, but this is Felix, and you should have known better. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, gently but firmly tugging you down next to him.

He shifts so he's on his side facing you and grins, clearly satisfied. His hair is messy and there's a hint of dark circles under his eyes, but he still manages to look unfairly attractive.

You shake your head at his antics and let out a long sigh. “Well… You've already made it this far, you know,” you tell him. “Only a few months left of dealing with school, and then you're done.”

“...Yeah.”

He's quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting across your face, a hint of something almost like melancholy in his eyes.

“Why am I kinda sad, though?” he finally asks with a chuckle.

You blink. “Sad? About being done with school?”

He nods. “I mean, I want to be done, god, believe me I do, but…” He blows out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno, it just doesn't feel as good as I expected it to. And I'm…” He pauses, clearly thinking his words over.

“I'm… gonna miss this, honestly. A lot.”

“This?” You gesture around the room. "You're going to miss this? Our tiny-ass, overpriced apartment?"

He laughs at that. “Not this place, I guess.”

“Then? The constant lack of sleep? Exams? The shitty cafeteria food?”

“Please,” Felix scoffs before taking a deep breath, looking somewhere behind you. “I'm… going to miss this." He looks back at you and pokes your shoulder for emphasis. “This. Us living together. Hanging out all the time. I'm going to miss that.”

You blink, a little taken aback at his earnestness. “Oh,” you say intelligently. “Yeah. I…”

You try to ignore the way your heart is suddenly in your throat. In truth, you've been doing your best not to think about it, how things will inevitably change after graduation.

“I mean…” you start. “It's not like we're never going to see each other again or something. We'll keep in touch, right?” But even as you say it, you feel yourself deflating. It’s not the same.

His expression reflects yours, his smile soft but a little sad around the edges. “...Of course we will.” He sounds like he's saying it as much to himself as he is to you. 

He's silent for another moment, his fingers gently running over the blanket, not quite meeting your gaze.

“It won't… be the same though,” he says, mirroring your own thoughts. “Like— you know? I'm gonna miss the convenience store we always go to at 2AM, I'm gonna miss our late-night study sessions and the shitty coffee you make, I'm gonna miss how you always use up the hot water in the shower and your annoying alarm waking me up at fuck-ass in the morning—” He suddenly cuts off, a flush rising in his cheeks.

He turns on his back again, slinging an arm over his eyes. “Ugh, I don't know, just shut up and let me wallow in my feelings.”

You're honestly a little speechless. All that, things he claims are annoying — he's going to miss it all that much?

“Hey,” you say gently, nudging his shoulder. “Hey, you sap, look at me.”

“No. I'm wallowing.”

You roll your eyes. “I can see that.” You poke his arm. Then again, harder. “Come on, look at me.”

Felix huffs dramatically, lowering his arm and turning his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. “What? I’m looking.”

Your heart clenches at the sight of him. He's pouting, looking a little petulant but still so endearingly cute, and you can definitely see the hint of embarrassment in his gaze as he peeks at you.

You let a smile spread across your face. “You're gonna miss me.”

Felix averts his gaze, his cheeks going a little pinker. “I mean, a little, I guess,” he mumbles, before letting out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Ugh, why are you looking at me like that? Don't let it go to your head or anything.”

It's so obvious that it's more than just a little — but you decide not to call him out on it. Instead, you lean forward, propping yourself up with one arm. “Too late,” you tease, grinning widely. “You're gonna miss me so much.”

He groans, throwing his forearm over his eyes again. "Whatever. Shut up.”

You look at him silently for a moment, taking in his flushed face and his messy hair. God, he's so cute. You've always been aware of how pretty he is, but there's something about seeing him like this, completely unguarded and vulnerable, that's making your lungs feel tight.

You clear your throat awkwardly, shifting your gaze away from him. “Hey, come on, cheer up.”

“No,” he says, still hiding his face behind his arm. “I'll just lay here and wallow and die."

“So dramatic,” you chide, poking his side roughly, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. You're starting to feel a little flustered too.

He whines at the contact, swatting at your hand, but you notice he hasn't moved his other arm away from his face. “Ow, hey, violence,” he complains, curling away from your fingers. “Ow, ow, dude—”

You reach out and grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. He lets out a half-hearted protest, but doesn’t get the chance to resist.

Oh. His eyes are shining.

You freeze. 

He's pouting again, but it's less childish now and more vulnerable, embarrassed. For a moment you just sort of stare, suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you are. His face is so close, so pretty, and your heart is doing something strange, beating rapidly in your chest.

“You’re—” You clear your throat, struggling with what to say. You… hadn’t realized how much this was impacting him.

He looks away and blinks hard, but his eyes are still a bit misty, unshed tears stubbornly sticking to his eyelashes. “Sorry. I'm being stupid,” he finally says, his voice a little quiet. “Ignore me, I'm just being weird, it's—” He swallows. “...I'm tired.”

Oh, god. You've been joking and teasing and making fun, but now you just feel like the biggest jerk, because he's actually really upset about this.

“Wait, no,” you murmur, suddenly serious. “No, it’s not— You're not being stupid. I—” You're having a lot more trouble than usual forming coherent sentences.

Your hand is still around his wrist, your fingers pressing against his pulse point. You squeeze it lightly. “It's okay.” You can feel the rapid beating of his heart, in contrast to the rest of him lying completely still. “It's not stupid. I’m— I'm gonna miss you too, idiot.”

He lets out a wet sounding laugh at that, rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t pull his arm away from your grip. “So mean,” he says. “Do you have to insult me to say nice things?”

“Well, yeah.”

The corners of his mouth twitch and you feel a bit of relief that you've managed to cheer him up a little.

“But you mean it?” He looks up at you with a shy expression. “You're gonna miss me?”

“Of course,” you say, suddenly struck by how much you mean it. “Yeah, I am. A lot.”

He lets out a low breath, eyes flicking over your face. “Yeah?” he says quietly. 

It's silent for a moment. Felix is still looking at you, a little shyly, and it's driving you a little crazy. He sighs, his brow pinched slightly, like he’s struggling with some internal conflict. You wait patiently, giving him space to express what he wants to say.

But he doesn't. Just averts his eyes and blinks harshly at the wall behind you.

“Please don't cry or I'll start crying too,” you say with a bit of a nervous laugh.

Felix lets out a shaky breath. “...I’m not going to cry.”

You give him a look. 

“I’m not,” he insists, using his free hand to rub his eyes. “I have allergies or something, I just— I—”

He hesitates, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Okay, look,” he sits up, pulling his wrist free from your grip and taking a deep breath. “It's just— I…” He stops, running a hand through his hair nervously. 

“Felix?” you ask, sitting up too. You're starting to get a little concerned. Why is the mood suddenly so weird?

He groans, burying his face in his hands, his voice muffled when he speaks. “This is embarrassing.”

It doesn't help your concern. “What’s embarrassing?” you ask carefully, trying to keep your voice steady.

“This,” he mutters, still hiding his face.

You hesitate a moment, not really knowing what to do, before tentatively reaching out and touching his arm. “Um… It's fine, you can talk to me.”

He lets out a frustrated breath before finally looking at you. “You’re not gonna like it.”

Oh. “Well… Did you… like, kill someone or something?”

Felix stares at you for a moment, clearly trying to keep a straight face but his lips twitch a little. “No, I didn’t kill anyone, you psychopath,” he says dryly.

“Okay, well, good,” you say, clearing your throat. “No illegal activities? The government isn't after you?”

“I… No,” he says slowly.

This conversation is taking a bizarre turn. “And you're not, like… secretly an alien sent to spy on humans this whole time? And… now you have to return to your home planet to plot the annihilation of Earth?”

That finally gets Felix to laugh. “You're— you're a fucking idiot,” he says through giggles. “Seriously.”

“I’m just checking,” you say, crossing your arms. “You're being all weird and shit and…” you gesture vaguely. “Maybe you're an alien. I don't know.”

That only sets him off giggling again. “Oh my god,” he says, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, his body shaking with laughter. “Why are you so dumb.”

You roll your eyes, just relieved to see him smile. He's much more relaxed now, the mood in the room lifted with his laughter. All part of your plan. You're more than happy to appear ridiculous if it means seeing him laugh.

He finally stops laughing, though he’s still smiling a little as he lifts his head and looks at you. He’s much closer than you anticipated, and you try not to be too distracted by the freckles around his eyes and the way his eyelashes flutter when he blinks as his gaze flicks across your face. He’s looking at you intently, and the air in the room feels charged, electric almost.

“You…” he starts, but hesitates, cutting himself off with a shake of his head. “Why are you so dumb,” he repeats.

Wow. “Now who's being mean?” you pout.

He laughs again, but it’s softer than before, a shaky, nervous sound. “God, I— this is so stupid, I—”

He lets out a frustrated breath, staring directly into your eyes, his expression intense and focused. “How do you not notice,” he mutters under his breath.

You’re frozen under his gaze, your heart suddenly in your throat. “Notice… what?”

Felix closes his eyes. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

What? “It seems like it matters since you’re…”

He opens his eyes again, looking a bit pained as he looks at you. “Just… just forget it.”

You don’t know what to say. You can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, your hands shaking slightly. “Uh… okay,” you say. “Sorry for… being dumb…?”

He grimaces. “No, I didn't mean it like—”

He lets out a long, heavy breath, shaking his head. Then he reaches out and takes your hand, his fingers brushing against your wrist.

His voice is quieter when he speaks, looking down, idly playing with your fingers. “Just… you’re supposed to notice,” he mumbles, almost to himself. “It’s supposed to be obvious.”

You stare at him, confused and flustered and… honestly, a little distracted by how he's touching your hand. “What's… uhh, what?” Everything feels like it's too much all of a sudden, and your chest is really starting to do something weird.

He sighs. “Nevermind. Seriously.”

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. “When we graduate,” he starts. “...Which I guess is really soon, huh.”

The way he says it makes your chest pang painfully. He’s still not looking at you. “I won’t see you anymore…” he murmurs, his voice so quiet you can barely hear him.

You grab his hand, stopping him from fiddling with your fingers, and squeeze gently. “Hey,” you say. “C’mon, it’s not like that.”

He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Isn't it, though?”

It kind of feels like you’ve been punched in the gut. This isn't like him, he's usually the one full of sunshine and optimism, reassuring you. But right now, the defeat in his voice is palpable.

The reality of the situation starts sinking in. Time’s almost up.

“Felix,” you say quietly, and he finally lifts his eyes up from his lap to look at you. His eyes are watery again.

He swallows, his voice breaking a little as he speaks. “Sorry, I’m being… I’m being unfair, I just…” He hesitates before continuing. “I don’t want to not see you.”

You frown, tears pricking your eyes now too. You don't trust your voice to speak, throat feeling tight and uncomfortable.

“And you’re just… so oblivious,” he continues, his finger tracing over your knuckles. “So stubborn, and dumb, and you’re probably the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my life and I seriously cannot believe I like—”

He cuts off suddenly, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Wait.

“Felix,” you murmur, and his eyes dart up to meet yours, a little panicked. He tries to jerk his hand away from yours, but you hold on tighter, keeping him in place.

“Felix,” you repeat, your skin buzzing from the way he’s looking at you. “You can’t just… leave me hanging like that.”

He looks away, face a brilliant crimson red. “Yeah, I can.”

You almost want to laugh. You didn’t realize he could be so shy, but you can’t focus on that now, because your heart is racing and you can’t tell if you’re going to pass out, or pass away.

“No, you can’t,” you say shakily. “When are you gonna tell me? At the commencement ceremony?”

He lets out a half-choked, almost hysterical sort of laugh, keeping his head turned away so he doesn’t have to look at you. “Yeah, something like that.”

He has to be joking. “That’s months away!”

“And?”

You shake your head, feeling dizzy. “I’m not gonna wait that long, are you insane?”

He huffs and glares at you, pouting. “Oh, well I’m sorry, would you just rather I shout it from the fucking roof tops then? Hey, everyone, I’ve been in love with my best friend since freshman year!”

What.

You blink, stunned speechless, your eyes wide. 

Your mind is spinning, the air in the room suddenly too thick to breathe. The words in love keep ringing in your ears, over and over again.

“You— you what?” you manage to get out, feeling a little faint. You must not have heard him correctly. You're hallucinating, or having a stroke or… something. He can't actually mean—

Felix winces. “...Fuck.” he mutters, dropping his head into his hands.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, brain still struggling to catch up to the situation. You’re still processing that he said the word love, when the last few words register.

“Wait— freshman year?” you say incredulously. “You’ve— since—?”

He’s clearly trying to act somewhat composed but the bright red on his ears betrays him. “Um. Yeah. Shut up. Stop talking,” he says, voice muffled from behind his hands.

You think about the past few years of your life, every interaction with him, and it’s like everything suddenly clicks into place.

The way his ears turn pink whenever you compliment him. The way you could always get under his skin so easily. You think about every time he got defensive, or huffy, or pouty at something innocuous you did or said.

…The way he's never really shown interest in anyone, despite the plenty of interest shown his way. The countless people he's turned down, for seemingly no reason. When you'd questioned him about it, he'd just laughed awkwardly and said he preferred to focus on his studies.

“Oh my god,” you say again.

Felix groans and hides his face further, his ears practically on fire. “Stop. Don't,” he mutters. “It's okay. Just… pretend you never heard that, okay, it's fine—”

“No.”

It’s silent for a moment, Felix still hiding his face, and your mind still swirling with thoughts. 

You kind of want to kiss him.

The realization is sudden, but not entirely unexpected. It’s not really a surprise, honestly, just another thing that feels natural. Maybe because deep down, of course somewhere along the line you've developed feelings for the person you can trust with anything, who gets you more than anyone else. Your favorite person in the world.

You’re only half in your right mind as you grab his wrists, pulling his hands off of his face.

“You ass,” you say, staring directly at him.

He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “I'm sorry—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Can I kiss you?” 

He chokes, eyes going even wider. He opens his mouth, then closes it, clearly caught off guard. After a moment, he manages to find his voice, though it’s very high pitched and shaky. “What?”

You take a deep breath. “Can I kiss you,” you repeat, your head feeling fuzzy, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“…What?” he asks again. His face is bright red. “Are— are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” you murmur, leaning even closer, your faces almost touching.

His breath catches, and his eyes dart between your eyes and your lips. “Please say you’re not,” he manages to say, voice breaking.

“I’m not,” you say, feeling a little crazy. Insane, maybe. You can’t really bring yourself to care. “Can I?”

He doesn't give you an answer, letting out an incredulous breath before grabbing the front of your shirt and yanking you forward as he falls back so you land on top of him.

You’re about to protest at the continued lack of a clear answer, but then he’s kissing you and you forget how to speak.

It's not the most graceful kiss, you’re both a little clumsy, but it’s sweet and it’s Felix and that’s all that really matters. You figure it out quickly, getting into a rhythm, and he lets out a shaky breath against your mouth, his hand moving to tangle in your hair. You feel like you’re dreaming, or drowning, or both.

Felix is kissing you. Felix is kissing you. Your closest friend. He’s in love with you, and he’s kissing you.

It makes your head spin. After several moments, you finally pull away, panting and dizzy. You feel a little delirious, staring down at him, both of you catching your breath.

His head falls back against the pillow, face turning impossibly red as he blinks at you like he’s in shock. You laugh a little and he huffs, but his eyes soften.

“So… you, uh— You— Are you—?”

You cut him off with another touch of your lips, effectively shutting him up. He instantly melts into it, tightens his grip in your hair, pulling you further into the kiss, and you can’t think straight, everything is just Felix. 

After a while, you’re forced to break away again for air. Felix whines at the loss of contact, eyes half-lidded, his cheeks flushed. You only manage to get a few breaths in before he's pulling you down into another kiss, more urgently this time.

You let out a surprised noise, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He seems to be determined to kiss you senseless, and it’s working. 

He bites your bottom lip, making you gasp into his mouth. He mumbles something in response, his thigh sliding between your legs, and your brain short-circuits.

Okay. You shiver. Okay. You should probably… You manage to pull away for a much needed breath and Felix tries to chase after your mouth, but you press a hand to his chest to hold him in place.

He groans, looking frustrated, but flops back against the pillow obediently. He blinks at you dazedly, his own chest heaving, eyes half-lidded and dark, but his expression quickly morphs into a pout. “Why… Why…?” he complains, trying to tug you closer again.

You huff a weak laugh, shaking your head, and he gives you a wide-eyed look, all innocence and sweetness, and that's not fair that he can look like this after all of that.

“Just— one sec,” you somehow get out, your mind still completely overloaded. “We should… uh…”

He’s still trying to reach your mouth. “What,” he mutters, breathing heavily against your neck.

“Talk,” you manage to say, even as his lips make their way to your jaw. “We should… we need to… oh my god—”

You cut off, stifling a gasp as he sucks on your skin. “Felix,” you say, trying to be stern, but it comes out like a moan instead.

“Mm?” he hums against your ear, completely unapologetic. “You want to… talk?”

“Yeah.” It takes all your willpower to pull away, ignoring how he whines in protest. You sit up and take a moment to compose yourself, willing yourself to ignore the urge to just give in to him.

Felix flops back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes as he sighs, his voice sounding a little raspy.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his ears red. “Sorry, god, I've thought about this so much, I just—”

Oh. “You’ve… thought about…? How much…?”

He makes a strangled noise and covers his face more thoroughly, voice muffled. “Oh my god,” he groans, “I'm going to fucking die. I… a lot.”

…Okay. Okay. Deep breaths. Okay.

“...How much is a lot?” you ask, unable to resist your curiosity. And maybe you want to tease him about it. Just a little.

He groans again. “So, so much. An embarrassing and pathetic amount.” He’s not even trying to hide his pouting. “Can you please not make me say the actual words.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, but the way he sounds — breathless and embarrassed — it’s honestly kind of adorable. He’s always so confident in most aspects of his life that you kind of love seeing him so flustered.

“Please… don’t,” he mumbles, peeking at you. “I’m begging you…”

He's blinking up at you, the picture of innocence once again. He glances up at you through his eyelashes, all pretty and delicate and ugh, he's absolutely doing this on purpose.

“You’re distracting,” you say weakly, staring down at him. “Stop making cute faces at me.”

He does not stop making cute faces. He tries though, lowering his hands as his face drops into a scowl. “I’m not making a cute face,” he protests.

“Yeah, you are,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “You’re doing it right now. Your pouty thing.”

He sniffs. “I'm not,” he says petulantly, though there’s a hint of mirth in his eyes. “This is just my regular face. It’s not my fault if my face is cute.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off with a finger, placing it over his lips. His mouth instantly snaps shut, and you can’t resist a little grin as he looks up at you with wide eyes. 

You watch as he swallows, his eyes fixed on you, and, not for the first time, you’re reminded of how pretty he is. He’s always been gorgeous, in an objective sort of way, but you feel like you’re seeing him for the first time.

You move your hand away and take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You need to talk about this while you’re both still somewhat coherent, or you’ll go absolutely insane.

“So…” You’re a little pleased with how steady your voice is, considering the circumstances. “You… love me.”

Felix coughs and covers his face again. “Do you have to say it like that,” he groans, his voice muffled by his palms.

“You never… you never said anything.” 

He just shrugs, still hiding his face. “I was scared to lose you,” he says with a shaky breath. “I didn’t expect you to want me back…” There's no bitterness in his tone, just disbelief.

You frown. “But you’re—” You bite your tongue. Felix was worried about you not wanting him?

You shake your head, a somewhat acrid feeling welling up inside of you. You've seen firsthand the sheer amount of attention he gets from people, from the random gifts and outright confessions and people slipping him numbers and notes everywhere he goes. There's never been a shortage of interest in him, from all sorts of people. Compared to him, you're… nothing.

“So… this whole time, you just… thought I was clueless?” You're still trying to wrap your head around it.

He sighs. “I mean, kind of,” he says, his eyes peeking through his fingers. “You’ve been completely oblivious to anyone who’s ever flirted with you.” 

Including me, he doesn't say, but you're starting to put the pieces together.

You wince, your face flushing. “I’m not that oblivious,” you protest weakly. “I just… I’ve never been particularly interested in… anyone.” 

Felix stares at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Like…” It's true that you've never really liked anyone very strongly in all your time at college. Some fleeting crushes here and there, but even the few people you had tried to go on dates with always felt lacking in some inexplicable way. You always felt much better as soon as you'd come home to your shared space with Felix, always feeling the most comfortable in his presence. Was that it? All this time, no one could ever compare to your best friend? 

And the constant attention Felix would get… It annoyed the hell out of you. At first, you would tease him, even encourage him to give them a chance, delight in the way his face would turn bright red. But it quickly became so annoying watching him have to navigate awkward conversations, politely turn people down. Sure, a part of you was probably a bit insecure always watching him receive so much attention. At least, that's what you told yourself. But beyond that, you think you're finally starting to understand the feeling for what it is.

Jealousy.

“Oh my god.” You’re starting to realize what a mess this entire situation is. “We're both idiots.”

Felix finally drops his hands from his face, giving you a dry look. “Speak for yourself.”

"Shut up," you say absently, not even annoyed. Your head is reeling.

This is… a mess. Felix is in love with you, you’re pretty sure the feeling has been mutual for a while, and you’re both leaving this place in just a few months. 

“So… you’ve never liked anyone before?” Felix asks. His tone is a bit teasing, though there's curiosity beneath.

You make a face. “Um.” Yeah, that's what you thought for the past couple years until now. How much do you reveal?

All of the puzzle pieces are clicking into place in your mind, making your head hurt even more. So much time wasted, you want to cry.

“I guess no one ever compared to you,” you say without thinking, and immediately slap your hand over your face.

“Oh.” There’s a second of silence as you both process the words.

Then, Felix starts laughing.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, struggling to contain himself, barely managing to keep his laughter under control. Your face is growing redder by the second, embarrassed and annoyed.

“Will you stop?” you whine.

“I’m sorry, I just—” he tries to get himself together, taking a deep breath before looking at you fondly. “This is the corniest fucking shit I've ever— holy shit. We're actually both stupid.”

“I told you,” you say, smacking him on the arm. 

He just snickers, grabbing your wrist before you can hit him again. He pulls you so you’re half-lying on top of him again, and you can feel his shoulders shaking as if he’s trying to keep from bursting out into another fit of laughter.

You let your head fall against his chest with a huff, still annoyed even as he wraps an arm around you, his hand rubbing against your back.

“You jerk,” you mutter.

He hums, sounding amused. “You love me.”

You go rigid, and he starts to laugh again, obviously enjoying the fact that he found an easy way to fluster you. 

“Shut up,” you grumble weakly, burying your face against him.

It isn't fair. He’s had time to fully realize it, years apparently. He’s had time to process everything. Meanwhile, you feel like you’ve been completely blindsided. 

He finally stops laughing and you’re both quiet for a few moments. You can hear his heart drumming loud in his chest.

“Wow,” he says suddenly. “We could have avoided a lot of stress if we realized earlier.”

You let out a snort of semi-hysterical laughter. “I know,” you agree, before pausing and wincing. “Oh god, I can't believe we've been… that we've been living together…”

“Yeeeahh… That's been torture by the way,” he says conversationally, as if he's discussing the weather, and your cheeks flare up. 

“...Torture?”

He squeezes your side. “Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself every day? Every time you wear my jacket, or… anything? Wearing those hoodies on movie nights—”

“I get it,” you cut him off, your face absolutely burning. “I get it, I’m—”

“Stupid?” he offers helpfully. “Oblivious? Cute?”

“...You never said anything,” you say weakly in an attempt to defend yourself.

“I wasn't going to make things awkward,” he protests. “Can you imagine if I’d actually said anything and you just… what? Said no? And then we have to keep living together like normal?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the guilt stirring in your stomach. You can’t even begin to imagine what it's been like from his perspective.

“...Sorry.” You shift so you can actually look at him, but he won’t meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he pouts.

“You really didn't notice?” he asks, finally looking at you. “Even a little?”

“No.” You feel a frustrated sort of laugh bubbling up. “We’ve been so stupid. We could’ve… we’ve wasted so much time, years—”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupts, seeing your expression, sitting up and gently placing his hand on your cheek, and you stop abruptly. “It doesn’t matter,” he says reassuringly. “We have time, okay? Plenty of time.”

You’re still struggling with the whole situation, trying to process everything as you stare at him. “But… we’re graduating.”

He gives you a small, unsure smile. “Yeah. We are.”

"And… I don't even know where I'm going. We could be—”

“Hey.” He cuts you off, placing a finger gently on your lips, and you bite your tongue, looking down at him. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You try to take a deep breath and he leans forward until his forehead is touching yours. 

Your mind is still racing, your entire universe is completely tilted, and you’re not entirely sure how to deal with any of it. But Felix is close and his hand is still on your cheek and…

And you want to focus on that instead, ignore everything else for now.

“Yeah?” you say weakly, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little more firm, and he brings his other hand up to cup your face.

“For now,” he continues, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s just…” He lets out an unsteady laugh, his hands still gently framing your face. “Can we just…”

Your entire body feels a little shaky. You lean forward a bit, closing the distance, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Yeah,” he breathes before slanting his mouth against yours.

It’s not very decorous. You’re both a little desperate, a little uncoordinated, trying to make up for years of lost time.

It’s messy and you can feel that he’s still a little nervous — as are you — but he's also determined. He pulls you closer, one of his hands sliding into your hair, tugging gently in a way that makes you gasp into his mouth.

Then he suddenly pulls back after a few moments, laughing when you whine pathetically in protest.

“Shh, hang on,” he says, slightly out of breath, and you open your eyes dizzily.

“...What?” you complain.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I… I just remembered that I…”

You watch, utterly befuddled, as he pushes against your shoulders so he can sit up. He gently lifts you off of him, answering your whine of protest with a quick kiss before his hand drifts away from your face, reaching for his phone.

You try to grab at him. “What are you doing—”

He laughs and dodges out of your reach. “Just gimme a second,” he says, turning his phone on as he settles back on the bed.

You sit there, feeling dazed and frustrated as he taps at his phone, his attention focused on the screen. After a few moments, he finally seems to finish what he’s doing, putting his phone down with a satisfied hum.

When he meets your eyes, he just looks amused at your expression. “Sorry, sorry,” he says with a grin, moving closer to you again.

“What was so important,” you pout.

“I was meant to meet with my group mates for our project tonight,” he says. “So, I told them I'm feeling sick.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Felix.”

He has the audacity to just smile innocently, already shifting so he can push you down against the sheets.

“What?” he says casually, hovering over you, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “I wasn't gonna be able to focus anyways.”

“Oh.” You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks again. “Is… that really okay…?”

“Don't worry,” he says, leaning down and pressing a light kiss into your neck. “I practically carry them anyway, they can live without me for one night.”

You swallow, feeling his hands slide up your arms, his touch leaving a trail of sparks along your skin. “Okay,” you agree, completely distracted now, your thoughts hazy.

“Mhm.” He sucks on a sensitive spot on your collarbone and you let out a shaky exhale. “Can we focus on something else right now?”

You nod. He moves up to kiss you and you know, with him, you'll figure out whatever comes next.

For now, that's enough.

—

a/n: me, a mech eng major.. ofc i had to make felix a fellow engineer. nerds 4 life (do not study engineering i crave death every moment)

also yes title is the coldplay song bc im actually uncreative as hell and name everything after songs. how do ppl come up with titles (T＿T) but anyway since it's one of felix's fav songs i thought it was especially fitting 🤍

tysm for reading 🫶

[ablobwhowrites]

I really love your New home sweet home au and I really want to see the toys taking care of Y/N since he’s has a fever :

Like one day, Y/N comes back from work and sees the toys in the living room and then he says something and passes out due to the fever. And the toys taking care of him since he saved them.

Everyone thinks y/n just died. Until dog day just found out they just have a fever. All it was is a cold and basically the only ones who kinda know how to help with a cold is the smiling critters and miss delight. They basically try and take care of y/n because they kinda know what their doing as miss delight knows how colds work as she's a teacher and knows basics of human anatomy and a lot of other stuff because well she was made to be a teacher back in playcare so that's what she had kept in here memory.

Yarnaby isn't allowed to be in the room with y/n because the moment he is, he's hopping onto the bed and laying down with y/n and may even get yarnaby sick. So yarnaby kinda sits at the door of y/n's room, doey every 5 minutes goes up to check on y/n as luckily he can stretch his neck and arms to get to y/n. Because once he went to the second floor and ended up nearly breaking through it but luckily didn't. He's like 900 pounds of dough so that pretty heavy but he can go upstairs for a little bit but not for long. But he tries and always checks up on y/n and poor dude is worried cause so many toys in the safe haven got sick sometimes and Doey was so worried for them the whole time.

Mommy long legs basically looking through cook books and cook books for something that y/n could eat without having to throw up or just having something easy for the stomach. The doctor, he thinks this worrying is just idiotic as he knows y/n will get better but still, Harley does make sure y/n is living and breathing. And the bunzo comes up into y/n's room to kinda talk about random things to keep y/n entertained and not bored but bunzo ended up talking about a random green spring he found and the newest episode of a show. Boogie bot is kinda the only one who kinda takes y/n's temperature, gives medicine and other stuff and all because it's hard to get a robot sick plus dog day and Doey are genuinely tweaking because they are in the safe haven mind set thinking that there is no medicine and stuff like that.

But after y/n feels healthy again. The toys are relieved and Harley is relieved as well because he wants to keep his room and bro is not willing to give up this nice ass house life. Also yarnaby goes back to sleeping in y/n's room again after y/n gets better. As soon is catnap in his smaller form as it helps him keep a eye on y/n and also to sleep more peacefully than hearing KickinChicken snore for the whole night.

(thats it for my yap session, hopefully my writing is getting slightly better but If you like that please don't feel shy and request any ideas for stories or anything. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[revelboo]

Alright which fragger is gonna be the one who starts spreading human valve is good propaganda? Wheeljack and Constructicons are builders for human houses. I’m imagining a little catalogue or file being sent spread anonymously to all the bots on earth and more about human mate and their needs. Primus, is Optimus going to the leader who first ends up with a interface/sex scandal? Walked/ran on by humans and doing a psa about it, or is going back for double points for Megatron and being sparked up by a human? Regardless the G1/IDW Revelbooverse is unhinged and I love it. Thank you for giving us this gorgeous Fuckery.

I’m just having fun, but honestly, I can see Thundercracker writing and anonymously sending out a human care manual just on blast. Bots and Cons both

So You Have A Human

Thundercracker x Reader

So you have a human or are thinking of acquiring one. Stop. Humans require a lot of care and attention. They’re social and need to be kept entertained. Before committing to finding a human, maybe use a holomatter avatar to go out among them and observe. Don’t try to touch or grab them, though. They will attack. Another less hands on way to research is to check out human media.

If you’ve decided you do want a human partner, understand how fragile they are. They scare easily, so understand how intimidating you are. You’re much bigger than they are. Don’t pick them up by their limbs or you can break those delicate bones. Cup them in your hands, keeping your grip loose so they don’t panic, but not so loose they can wiggle free and fall. They’ll die if they fall out of your hands. Don’t chase them down, you can actually scare humans to death as strange as that sounds.

Humans need organic foodstuffs and access to clean water. Just because something is organic, doesn’t mean that they can consume it. Please, find and retrieve foodstuffs meant for human consumption, don’t scavenge in the outdoors for them. They’re picky eaters.

Is your human a bit skittish? They tend to be cold in temperatures comfortable to Cybertronians, so coax your human into sleeping on your chassis. It gets them used to you much faster, letting them get comfortable with the sound of your spark. Make sure you talk to them. Ask them questions and get to know them. They need to socialize.

Interfacing with organics is taboo. And that’s an outdated belief. Humans are amazing. Court your human with little treats. Flowers. Snacks. Some of them adore sparkly ornaments. But make your intentions clear. Don’t just whip out your spike and hope for the best. Build a relationship first.

So you’ve successfully won your human over and you’re both comfortable with each other. Time to mass shift to their level. Humans kiss like we do. They interface like we do. Take your time exploring your partner with servos and your mouth. Try to take it slow so you don’t overwhelm them, because even mass shifted, Cybertronians are still much bigger.

Humans are incredibly flexible, but be sure to check with your human frequently. Make sure they’re comfortable. You’ll need to be patient, and properly prepare your human before you can-

• Head lifting sleepily from where you’re sprawled on him, you reach to tap a finger against the datapad he’s frantically typing alien glyphs on. “What are you smiling about?” Oh. Now he’s embarrassed, wings shifting at his back where they’re partially pinned under him. What is he writing? Because he’s acting like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing, won’t even meet your eyes. “Alright. Keep your secrets, but if you’re writing smut about us, you better change our names.”

• Reaching to stroke your cheek, he saves his work and sets it aside. And mass shifts, smiling when you gasp and grab at him. “It’s not like that. I just- there’s a lot of us with humans now and I thought I’d explain some stuff. You know, so there’s not any mistakes or accidents. Misunderstandings.” And you lean up on him, mouth brushing his. Servos threading into your hair as his other hand rests on your hip. Because this means everything. This intimacy.

• “As long as you’re not encouraging your people to go snatch mine,” you say, lips ghosting over his before you sit up on him. “You’re not, right?” And he immediately shakes his head, the tension spilling out of you. A little heads up on taking care of humans definitely couldn’t hurt. You know there are other humans here, but the Decepticons are weirdly protective of their humans and don’t seem to trust each other that much. “I still want to round all the humans here up. Humans need other humans. No offense.” His palm slides up your side, touch almost reverent.

• “I’m trying,” he replies. Because for you? If you need to spend time with other humans, he wants you to. Wants you to have whatever you want. “You know I’d do anything for you.” Loves you too much to deny you anything.

[helaintoloki]

Stuck in the Middle

pairing: Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader

warnings: angst, language, reader is a bit mean to Bucky but it’s deserved

notes: so i saw the thunderbolts* trailer and immediately scrambled for my phone to write this. hoping to write some more bucky/mcu related pieces so lmk if you have any ideas !

summary: you come home from work to find the last person on earth you want to see cooking dinner in your kitchen

You can sense the shift in the air the moment you step foot through the front door. Lamps that you know for a fact had been turned off before you left now glow warmly throughout your apartment as you cautiously set your gym bag down in exchange for the bat you keep strategically placed against the doorframe. Your knuckles turn white with tension as you grip the handle, rolling your shoulders back and cracking out your neck before silently treading towards the kitchen.

You live alone, so there’s no reason for the sound of pots clanging together or the smell of homemade cooking to be invading your senses after coming home from your mundane job as a pilates instructor. Despite this, there is not an ounce of fear within you as approach the intruder; in fact, you welcome a little action in your life, no matter how inconvenient it may be. Your training under Natasha’s watchful eye is paying off now as you creep into the room undetected, weapon raised at the ready and focus dialed in on the stranger as you raise the bat and swing it forward with all of your strength.

An arm immediately shoots forward and stops your assault with ease, the abrupt movement causing you to lose your footing and stumble forward. Heart pounding in your chest, your eyes widen as you take in the sight of the familiar metallic fingers clutching the bat with unrelenting force. You’re at a loss for words as you trail your gaze along the prosthetic arm and up to the face of its owner. His features are solemn and his eyes dull of the light you once remembered, but his faint smile is still the same as he finally relinquishes his hold and watches you stagger forward.

“You’ve lost your edge,” he comments jestingly before turning back to the meal he’d been meticulously preparing in your absence as if he hadn’t broken his way into your home. “Hungry?”

“What… the hell are you doing here?” You breathe out in aggravation, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with the ragged breaths you take. Your body feels as if it’s on overdrive as you try to process the fact that Bucky is standing before you in your apartment, uninvited if you might add, after having not been a part of your life for a good three years. Your stomach is in knots, hands perspiring, heart fighting to escape your ribcage, eyes struggling to hold back tears of relief and frustration, and mind trying to decide whether this unannounced visit is unwelcome or appreciated.

“Making us dinner,” Bucky offers as if it should be obvious, as if the last time he cooked for you hadn’t been ages ago. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean up after myself.”

“You broke into my apartment and you think my main concern is about whether or not you wash the dishes?!” You retort in exasperation.

“It’s not breaking in if I have a key,” he argues defensively while plating your meals.

“A key you were supposed to give back after we broke up!”

A heavy silence follows your words as Bucky finally stills. Hands planted firmly against the counter, he lets his head hang with a defeated sigh before finally turning to face you.

“You’re right” he relents with a wry smile, “I know I’m not welcome here, and I shouldn’t have ambushed you like this, but I knew if I called you wouldn’t have answered.”

“And whose fault is that?” You murmur bitterly much to his dismay. You don’t miss the look of hurt that flashes across his features, but there isn’t a single part of you that feels guilty about it. Not after all the hurt he’s caused you in his absence.

“Look,” Bucky starts carefully, hands raised in surrender as he approaches you. His mannerisms are similar to that of a hunter approaching a wild animal, but can you blame him with the way you’re still gripping the bat like your life depends on it. “I know you don’t owe me anything, and the last thing I deserve is your forgiveness, but I need you to hear what I have to say.”

Though you know it’s against your better judgement, and though every part of your conscious is screaming at you to throw him out of your apartment for good, you find yourself slowly lowering the bat until it falls to the floor with a deafening thud.

“You get five minutes.”

And that’s how you end up seated across your ex-boyfriend at the dinner table enjoying a plate of garlic basted steak and pasta while you look over the different files spread out before you.

“US Agent, Red Guardian, Yelena Bolova…” you quietly read aloud, gaze faltering on the familiar photograph. There’s no mistaking that face, not after the millions of times you’d stared at this exact file and wondered whether there was any semblance left of the girl Natasha had so often described to you. “Interesting bunch you’ve got here. Not sure why you’d break into my apartment just to show me these though.”

“I assume you’ve been watching the news lately, seen what’s going on out there,” Bucky counters, arms crossed as he pensively leans back in his chair.

“I’m familiar with the Void,” you hum quietly, and Bucky doesn’t miss the way you uncomfortably begin to shift in your seat. “It’s awful what’s going on out there.”

“It is, and there’s no one to stop it,” he utters carefully, prompting you to look up from the files.

“Please tell me you’re not about to say what I think you are.”

“I know they’re far from the best options of heroes out there, but they’re all we’ve got. The Avengers are nowhere to be found-“

“I’m an Avenger,” you bite back defensively.

“An Avenger who spends her time teaching pilates classes,” Bucky corrects humorlessly, and it takes everything in you to not lung across the table in retaliation at his demeaning comment.

“Banner said to lay low,” you remind him through gritted teeth, “and we both agreed to that before you decided to leave me with only some half assed note explaining your abandonment.”

“Y/n/n,” Bucky sighs in frustration, but you’re adamant that he’s not about to get a single word in until you’re done.

“You can make whatever comments you want about my life, about what I’ve chosen for myself, but you don’t get to make me feel small for choosing normalcy over the bullshit I’ve been through. The people I love are either dead or scattered across the globe, and I’m on my own now, so I get to choose what’s best for me.”

“Even if it means leaving the rest of the world to fend for itself?” He counters in disbelief.

“The world is ungrateful, they don’t appreciate what we do. They took Tony and Nat’s sacrifices in vain. Why would I put myself through torture for people who think that after everything that happened, everything we lost, Thanos was right?”

As Bucky sits across from you and stares you down, he realizes now that the woman before him is no longer the same woman he’d left three years ago. Whatever had occurred in his absence had changed you, and you were no longer willing to fight for others like you once had done so fiercely before. You had hardened, and his chest tightened with the realization that the girl who once wore her heart on her sleeve had now locked it away and gotten rid of the key.

“Y/n, I came to you tonight because I know I can’t do this on my own,” he admits solemnly, metal arm whirring quietly as he clenches and unclenches his hands in his lap. “If you say no to this, then there’s no point in rounding up these guys and attempting to form some sort of mediocre team of heroes. They’re not heroes, I’m not, but you are. Even if you don’t feel that way right now.”

Another heavy silence drowns the room as you contemplatively chew the inside of your cheek. Your gaze has landed back on Yelena’s file, but your mind can’t help to drift over to the thought of her sister. Natasha had always believed in you, supported you, trained you under her wing, and helped pushed you forward even when you felt like you couldn’t go on anymore. Your inaction would be a dishonor to her memory whether you wanted to admit it or not, and despite how much resentment you held for the man before you, you knew that whatever personal qualms you had did not hold more importance over the fate of humanity.

You knew the choice you needed to make, and you didn’t like it one bit.

“If I help you get this team together and stop the Void, will you let me return back to my own life?” You prompt hesitantly, and you hate the way your heart flutters at the soft quirk of his lips in response to your question.

“If you help me pull this off, you can have whatever you want,” he promises earnestly before apprehensively reaching across the table towards you. He tests the waters by placing his hand atop of yours, and when you don’t pull away he takes hold of your hand in his own and gives it a comforting squeeze.

“I really hate you,” you confess with a defeated sigh, but there is no trace of malice in your tone. In fact, you return his affectionate gesture by squeezing his hand back and offering him the first smile you’ve had since his arrival.

“I know,” Bucky says tenderly before lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Heat crawls up your neck at the act, and you have to look away to prevent him from seeing the smile that fights to play itself along your lips. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy to be with Bucky again, and a part of you appreciated that it almost felt like old times, but you also knew that it wasn’t going to be this easy. You’re still angry at him for leaving you heartbroken and without so much as a goodbye, and Bucky himself is well aware of the fact that it’s going to take a lot more than dinner and pleasantries to get you back.

But this is a start, and you’re both ready to throw yourselves into the lion’s den if it means mending a broken past alongside the person you love.

[wholemeallbread]

prince!rin is often overshadowed by his older brother. it's near impossible for him to have his moment when his brother always does it better. to everyone, he's "itoshi sae's younger brother". he's even had people trying to marry him just to get closer to sae.

his heart is ice at this point. steadily melting, but impossible to just crack through. it's a slow, slow process, his initial thought anyway, and he was convinced it would take ages for him to find the one.

prince!rin who's nothing but rude when you try and talk to him. it wasn't your own choice in the first place, purely for building relationships between different nations, but how were you going to explain that he was the one making things impossible?

prince!rin who genuinely couldn't believe he fell for the "love at first sight" trope. it's stupid – he was stupid, and he flunked his first impression. how has talking to you for a brief fifty seven seconds (he was counting) equate to his heart shattering into a million pieces with nothing but a gaze?

prince!rin who seems nicer than he lets on. this may sound corny, but he's protected you more times than you'd think.

weird people of importance that are way out of your age range eying you funny? he's only sharpened the sword in his scabbard last night, and he's not afraid to use it. he watches your drink from across the entire hall when you're gone just to make sure nobody tampers with it. believe him, it's more common than you think. when he knows you're visiting the kingdom soon, he makes sure every inch of the town is far from dirt and mud, in fear of ruining your outfit for the special night.

prince!rin panics and keeps the entire relationship undercover. this entire thing was spontaneous. god, it wasn't even him who asked, it was you. he didn't even know you liked him!

nobody knows, not even his brother. actually, he told the diary that he stress-writes into, but now it's locked up, in a locked up box, in another locked up box, and then in a locked up drawer. just the word "marriage" makes him flinch. how suspicious, but somehow, nobody was able to make the link between the two of you.

prince!rin tries to seem cool in front of you, but fails miserably. he has a short temper despite his outward appearance, and even tiny misfortunes cause the dormant anger inside of him to start bubbling up. luckily, you're always there to calm him down, so no more training dummies or random civilians have to suffer from his wrath.

prince!rin who would risk his life for you, but still struggles to bend or completely break the rules. he follows his curfew diligently, straight up refuses to sneak around, and is always on his best behaviour when around his family. the chances of you meeting during the night are near zero, and the only time you see each other is when you coincidentally cross paths or during royal events.

prince!rin always blames himself when the two of you get into an argument. you'd think he's ignoring you with how busy he magically becomes, but his brain is so full of thoughts and conflict. instead of talking things out, he releases stress by overtraining, spending all day working on his swordsmanship. yep, his communication skills suck.

prince!rin tweaks the fuck out when sae magically manages to find out. he could be halfway across the nation and he would still feel the disapproving glare he fears so much. he's pretty much begging on his knees for sae not to tell anyone, not for his own reputation, but he doesn't want to get you in trouble. and then everything comes out, confessing everything on the spot; how it happened, how he feels, how he wants to say sorry to you. sae gives him a weird look, claiming that he'll "help him out", but he doesn't get any advice in the following days.

and he feels utterly betrayed days later when his own brother set the two of you up. as evil as it was, he told you that rin was injured, and he told rin that you were going to break up with him. evil, so evil, but it worked. rin was not ready to receive a big hug, mumbles of missing him and telling him to never get hurt again beinf whispered in his ear. just what is going on?

whatever. at the end of the day, you were in his arms again, ans that's all that matters.

@lizbix CMERE I WROTE!!! oops its a bit late actually r u awake

[kimulus0check]

Hi! If you don’t mind, would you please write something up about Josh and Bill competing for a fem reader? It can be headcanons or a one shot. Whatever you feel like👍

I haven’t written a fic in a while so that’s what I stuck with.

The girls are fighting

Round one..FIGHT!

Bill and Josh were with the rest of the club at joes comic shop. Hiding from the rain storming outside while looking and searching to broaden their own collections in an almost competition-like manner shadowed by faux allies. Everyone almost kept to themselves in practical silence besides a couple of boys arguing about canon lore vs theory in some saga and the white noise of a buffering ac and Joe’s radio phasing in and out of the fm radio. Until the door swings open.

The rain and storm brewed and bellowed outside as the wind made fight with the door until it was shut vulgarly by soaked hooded figure carrying a duffle bag. Every teenage boy and man turned in bewilderment and confusion as the hooded wet person walks to Joe’s counter. The club mumbling on who that could be when the weather could cause a hurricane watch.

A hand reached to removed the hood to show a face enveloped with hair and feminine features. A girl. Before any boy scrambles to get there phone out she abruptly breaks the silence of the store.

“Netflix order for Joe?”

Her voice exasperated and exhausted from battling the storm outside. Chest heaving under a drenched jacket as she opened the duffle bag full of cd movies. Joe blinks before coming back to focus.

“Oh shit yeah, could ya move over hear a sec.”

Joe stated as more instruction than a suggestion over to some empty shelves in one of the books in his store. You complied, heading over to that area where he’d explained what genre goes where, borderline making you still his shop for him as he keeps talking about how blockbuster would eat his wallets dry from not rewinding movies or late fees.

Josh thought you were a spectacle. He tried his best to not give away his obvious he was staring you down. How careful your fingers touched each startrek and starwars CDs as you place them on the shelf. How he can see the outline of your hips even with the heavy jacket you wore. How your hair draped down your face and shaped your face. Utter feminine beauty.

Bill was paranoid and weary of you at first. Thinking you working at Netflix was some ploy to spy on fandom. Although seeing you put up with Joe for more than twenty minutes led him to believe that you were genuine.

When bill and Josh looked at you from afar both of their gazes flickered back to each others eyes. Jerry sighed while Pete rubbed his temples as bill and Josh’s faces contorted into glares. As if it was an unspoken declaration of war.

Part 2 maybe if this doesn’t flop :0

[dollesung]

can you write smth abt being mean and rough w sunghoon and yet instead of complaining, all he does is whimper and take it being all good and pliant ?? (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

sunghoon’s such a good boy . . <3

MORE UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

“such a good fuckin’ slut,” you hiss, grabbing sunghoon’s throat in your hands. the boy gasps, his hands reaching out to grip your wrists, but stops halfway.

you’re situated on his lap, with your other hand wrapped around his cock. he’s on his third orgasm now, and he looks absolutely spent, but you’re not nearly done with him.

“noon—a!” his voice breaks at the last syllable, legs shaking as his body attempts to push away the insurmountable amount of pleasure.

but sunghoon doesn’t complain or ask for you to stop, he lets you have your fun, brain too muddled from the feeling of your hand on his cock, his own cum acting as lubrication as you continue.

your hand on his throat is tight enough to leave a mark, and yet he doesn’t utter a single word. the friction created from your skin on his spent cock is nearly painful, but he finds himself wanting more, hips canting upwards, a silent indication for you to please, go faster.

you keep him pinned down, still sat on his lap, keeping him from thrashing. it’s nearly impossible to keep him still, his back arching, head thrown back. almost as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“puh, please— ah!” he yelps. “c-can’t, any— ngh! mo—ore, noona!”

his face is blotchy and red, tears and sweat dripping from his face. he’s never looked more ethereal than he does now.

the hand on his throat relieves pressure, and you decide to give him a little mercy. the pace of your wrist slows, and sunghoon whimpers.

you heave an evil chuckle. “should i stop, baby?”

the boy shakes his head. unsatisfied, you leave a quick swat on his inner thigh. he winces, unscathed but shocked.

“words, sunghoon.” you utter through gritted teeth.

“n-no, noona,” he whimpers. “d-don’t stop, please?”

you never know how to say no to that face, anyway.

NOTE. so sorry for the inactivity! been really busy. you can still send in asks tho <3 i’ll get to them when i have the time.

© dollesung 2025

[ouran1a]

YEAHHH U WRITE FOR CHUBBY READERS ? may you write something about pete with a chubby s/o ? sfw or nsfw is fineee

mmph this is so late i’m so sorry babycakes :(

18+, afab reader, pete is a short mf with tiny hands, blood/marking, technically autoerotic asphyxiation hehe

y’all i used fuck like a million times i’m SORRY. like=fuck for me idk idk idk idk

everything with pete is so fucking messy and he fucking loved it.

kisses are filled with nipping and spit and moans, greedy little hands always roaming and groping and pinching and squishing, sex was full of screaming and tears and cum and blood,

but you sitting in his face might be his favorite.

thick thighs shaking and covered in ugly fucking yellow and purple bruises and bites, blood still leaking from the deep teeth marks he’d left, your cunt just centimeters away from his hooked nose and salivating mouth, your blood and slick still shining on his cracked lips.

He scoffed quietly at your hovering, landing a heavy seat to your ass and relishing in the breathy gasp you let out, “‘s called face-sitting, ma, not this shit yer doin’” he chided. his tone was so fucking smug and arrogant, hands warm as he pinched and squeezed the pockets of chub along your hips, thumbs pushing down on your hanging tummy while he tried to drag you down to actually sit in his face.

you squirmed, body vibrating with an intoxicating mix of pleasure and dull pain, your flushed face was pulled into a grimace, baby hairs stick to your sweat slicked skin, “don’t wanna fucking break you neck, baby..” another smack to your ass, god that one was gonna leave a welt. pete yanked in your hips again, internally fuming at the fact he couldn’t force your hips down with just his brute strength, “i’ll bite yer fuckin’ clit off if you don’t” another hard yank, you drop just a bit more, “sit th’fuck down,”

seconds pass and you stay still hovering, so naturally, pete’s mouth starts running, “fuckin’ tease.” he snarled, angling his head up to nip and lick at your puffy cunt lips, “gonna touch n’ rub all up on me then pussy out when ‘m right fuckin’” he nudged your clit with his nose, grinning like a fucking maniac at your soft moan, feeling your thighs give a bit more, “hmm— ‘m right here, don’t fuckin’ keep my pussy from me,”

his voice was muffled by your thighs and yet it it still felt like he was talking right in your fucking ear, “jus’ cause your lame ass ex couldn’t man up n’ eat this fat cunt don’t mean i won’t,” pinching just above the inside of your knees, pete gets you just lost enough to finally sit you down in him, moaning like a bitch at the feeling of your full weight pressing in him.

immediately, you’re gasping and yanking at that short black hair, you can feel his nose smushed against the sensitive little bundle of nerves and his tongue slotted as deep as he can get it in you, you can still hear his fucking slurping and sucking, such a nasty fucking sound. His hands are constantly moving, one almost mindlessly feeling up your side, becoming you to curl down so he can flick and pinch your pebbled nipple while the other wrapped around his weeping cock, red and almost angry.

pete felt like he was fucking floating, he couldn’t breathe at all, throat closed and nose covered by your juicy cunt, his cock was throbbing, already so fucking close just from a few strokes. he was getting lightheaded, could feel your hips rocking back and forth, down into his face, using him to get yourself off. he could hear your muffled moans, hardly audible through your tummy and fat legs suffocating him, the sounds shot right to his dick, legs squirming and hips desperately humping up into his hand.

you got lost in the feeling, mind blank except for the friction of his nose and mouth against your cunt, the almost ticklish touch of pete sucking and lazily biting your lips. you didn’t even notice him cum, painting his hand and stomach in spunk while you just grinded harder and harder down into his face. pete didn’t try to pull you off, both hands now gripping your thighs, blunt nails leaving angry red marks all in the soft skin.

the band in your belly was pulled taut, you were at the cusp of your orgasm, one hand shakily gripping the headboard while the other yanked at his hair, “o-oh! i’mm’onna c-cum— ohmygod i’m gonna cum s-so fucking ha-ard!” all it took to snap the string was pete angling that fucking nose and wrapping his lips around your pulsing clit, nipping and biting the fucking thing.

you screamed, actually screamed, as your hips stilled, shaking and panting and sweating while your cunt gushed on his face. pete slurped it all up, blood trickling down from where his nails had broken skin while you moaned and gently rocked your hips to ride it out.

after a while you tried to lift off his face, only to gasp in pain when pete’s razors of teeth nipped your cunt lip again, beady little eyes glaring up at you, “sit th’fuck back down,” hand suddenly stronger than your limp thighs pulled you back down, “‘m not fuckin’ done with m’pussy.”

[coraniaid]

I know I keep going on about this, but I really do think that the majority of the Buffy fandom downplays the importance of Buffy's relationship with her mother to, at times, an almost ludicrous extent. Obviously it's not a perfect relationship (if you think Buffy has a perfect relationship with anyone on the show you've really not been paying attention) and indeed at times it's a very strained one, but it's a central part of understanding who Buffy is and why she says and does things that a lot of writing about Buffy on this site just ... pretends isn't there.

There are more or less extreme examples of this -- I saw a "Giles should have adopted Buffy!" post a couple of years ago that didn't even acknowledge that Buffy had a mother who might have objected -- but so much analysis of the show seems not to engage seriously with the thought that Buffy might care about her mother as a person or worry about her mother's opinion of her. And really, the show is very, very clear about this. There are multiple episodes in the high school seasons where the emotional stakes only make sense if you accept that 'demons from hell might end the world' and 'Joyce might think her daughter is getting into trouble at school' are two roughly equivalent problems for Buffy to navigate.

I recently saw a post about Season 5 that listed Joyce's death as just one of several different reasons for Buffy's burgeoning depression that season -- along with Riley leaving and her having to drop out of college -- but .... that's not right, is it? Those aren't three isolated and independent issues at all. All of those factors go back to Buffy's mom. Riley leaves her in Into The Woods because he decided the fact she's too worried about her mom getting sick to spend time humoring his fragile ego means she doesn't really love him. Buffy drops out of college in Tough Love because her mother died and she has to take care of her sister ... which, when you remember that Dawn is explicitly presented as a stand-in for Buffy ("she's more than [my sister]," Buffy tells us in The Gift, "she's me"), can only be read as Buffy dropping out because she has to take care of herself. "Who's going to take care of us?" as she asked Dawn in Forever.

Buffy's depressive spiral in Season 5 happens because her mother dies. There are aggravating factors, sure, but this is surely the heart of it. It's not because her crappy boyfriend left or she suddenly remembered she was a Slayer. It's because her mom gets sick and dies, and Buffy Summers -- who is afraid of hospitals, who blames herself for every death in Sunnydale, who has been trying to protect her mother from the supernatural for years, who hates the very thought of there being problems in the world she can't solve, who loves her mother more than she can say -- doesn't know what to do about it.

"I don't know how to live in the world [...] if everything just gets stripped away. I don't see the point. I just wish my mom was here," she tells Giles in The Gift. It's Buffy who turns to the door to let the shadow of her mother back inside in Forever, and Dawn who has to break the spell that brought her back. In Season 6, Buffy is trapped by a demon in a fantasy world where she was never the Slayer and her mother is still alive, and it's that image of her mother, telling her that she's strong and urging her not to give up which allows her to break free. When Giles comes back to England that season, and offers Buffy a temporary reprieve from all her new financial worries, the highest praise Buffy has for him is that this uncharacteristic generosity on his part is "a little like having Mom back".

There are people in the world Buffy cares about as much as her mother (but not as many as some of you think), and there are perhaps a dozen characters who appear in the show more or get more speaking time than Joyce Summers, and there are certainly lots of characters the writers obviously care much more about as people in their own right. (Like many of you, the writers seem pretty dubious about the idea that middle-aged women could ever be interesting.)

But there is nobody in the world who means more to Buffy than her mother, and I think trying to analyze the show as if there were is going to give you a very strange impression of what's actually going on. Ideas like, well, maybe Giles should have adopted Buffy.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I desperately want more fics where the t'hy'la bond forms between Kirk and Spock from birth soulmate-style exclusively for the sake of making Spock, 16, feel the pain of starvation during Kirk's time on Tarsus IV.

There's maybe... two? fics I've read that used a similar concept, but there should be MORE.

Like, picture a Spock who knows that he's bonded to his t'hy'la, but has never met them. This bond is the one thing which makes him "acceptably vulcan" in the eyes of his peers. Surely he can't be a failed vulcan if he's got a t'hy'la, the rarest of all vulcan bonds, right? So, to Spock, this bond isn't only an honor, but a lifeline. His whole life, he's taken comfort from it, because it proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that there IS someone who will truly love and care for him and that he IS vulcan enough (and if he has some suspicions that the one he is bonded to isn't vulcan, well, he keeps them to himself).

And then, at some point, Spock begins feeling... oddly anxious. A little hungrier than he should be, most of the time. At first, he writes it off as simply another aspect of puberty, but then it continues. Then it gets worse. The sense of never getting quite enough to eat grows, and the anxiety builds, and eventually, Spock realizes that it's not him. His t'hy'la is the one who is hungry and afraid.

He brings it to his father, then, deeply concerned. "They are hungry," he says of his t'hy'la. "It is persistent and... palpable. I believe they are in danger."

Sarek is sympathetic, but unable to do anything save offer advice: "Be with them. If you meditate and focus on your bond, you may be able to reach them, to offer some modicum of comfort."

And so Spock does. He spends his days deep in meditation, projecting calm and comfort and gentleness into the bond, and he hopes that it is heard, though he can't help but feel that he isn't doing enough. He wishes that he could reach into their mind and find their location so he could help them, but even with the aid of T'Pau, it would be impossible.

And still, the fear and the hunger grow worse, gnawing away at his t'hy'la until Spock wonders if there is even anything left of them, on the other side of the bond.

"I fear they are dying," he confesses one night, emerged from his meditation for just long enough to eat a meal. "They are... so weak, now, and filled with such despair. I -" Spock's voice breaks. "I have not even met them. It is unfair!"

Amanda holds him, and he, for the first time since he was seven, allows it.

"Their mere presence in my mind has done so much for me, and in return, what good have I done for them? I wish..." He swallows, throat aching with suppressed grief. "I would take their place, if I could."

He wonders, almost, if it would be better for them, to die. Their pain was so intense, and their terror so strong - surely death could be nothing but release.

Still, selfishly, he wants them to live.

He wants to get a chance to know them, to love them as more than just a warm link in the back of his mind.

So, still, he meditates, and tries to press as much warmth and affection as possible through the bond, saying don't give up, I'm here, I'm with you.

And, eventually, slowly, the hunger goes away. The fear takes longer, but it, too, eases over time. It never goes away entirely, of course. Sometimes, starvation plagues his t'hy'la's memories, or disembodied terror strikes them out of nowhere. But still, they are healing, and Spock is grateful for it.

Someday, he hopes to have the chance to hold his t'hy'la in his arms, but until then, he offers his mind. Every time he meditates (and every time he feels his t'hy'la's distress) Spock presses love and warmth into the bond. He still doesn't know if he's reaching them, but he hopes - and sometimes, hope is all you need.

(Jim, for his part, thinks often of the gentle warmth and reassurance which filled his mind during his darkest days. He wonders if he could have kept going, without it. He wonders, too, where it came from, and why he can still feel it sometimes, brushing lovingly over him. He hopes that someday he'll find out, to thank them for staying with him, for granting him a light in the darkness.)

[starrihan]

Resist (Taehyun Fic)

-> Pairing: toxic! Taehyun x self sabotaging!Reader

-> Plot: your self-sabotaging tendencies keep you tied to your toxic ex, but how can you resist was the sex is just so good?

-> Genre: smut, angst, mean dom! Taehyun, bratty sub! Reader, toxic! Taehyun x toxic! Reader, piv sex, no protection (wrap it up), oral (f receiving), slight public intimacy (?), reader is tipsy while Taehyun is sober, hair pulling, cursing

-> Ft.: Chaeryoung and Yeji of ITZY

-> Warnings: a little blood

-> Word Count: 4,235

-> Notes: Happy late birthday to Taehyun!!! I really wanted to post this on his actual birthday but I got so busy but this is the second part to my Sanctuary series! i hope you guys enjoy toxic! Taehyun as much as I do. semi-proofread. i have been writing this for weeks but i've just been so busy that I've been putting out shorter works that took a lot less brainpower to write.

This TikTok is perfect for this fic

༄ ༄ ༄

The constant push-and-pull of your toxic relationship with your ex boyfriend was not something that you enjoyed, but rather something you very much craved. Why couldn’t you move on and heal like a normal person? Why did you keep subjecting yourself to this torture? Why couldn’t you resist?

It’s not like he cared about you or your feelings either. If he did, you wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place, his head between your thighs for the third night this week. 

“T-taehyun, slow down…”

He was eating you out like a man starved, as if he wasn’t doing this very thing the day before, relentless as his tongue constantly lapped at your juices. He just hums against your lips, waving off your concerns and he quickly makes you approach your orgasm. Grabbing a fistful of his hair you grind up into his face, his nose hitting your clit to give you the most pleasure. 

“Fuck, Taehyun,”

You say as you arch your back off the bed, orgasm coursing through you in waves. He licks up any excess juices while you catch your breath. 

“Think you can handle just a little bit more?” 

He says, unbuckling his belt and pulling off his jeans and boxers, dick hard and ready to pound into you. 

“What am I saying? Of course you can. You always were a little slut for my cock,”

His arrogance is one thing you didn’t miss about him. He lines up his dick with your entrance, barely giving you time to recover before fully pushing into you, bottoming out as your nails dig into his toned biceps. Your mouth hangs open at the intrusion, throat failing to produce a moan. 

He was right though, you always were ready for him at any point of the day. So hungry for his touch, the way he, no matter how bratty you were, always made you cum at least once before having his way with you. You would do anything to have his cock in you, and you both knew it. Even going as far as keeping him in your life despite the way he tries to control you, always demanding to know where you are or what your plans are. 

He pounds your hole deliciously, letting out little grunts here and there at how tight or wet you were. You could barely even look him in the eyes with how good he was giving it to you. 

“Hey. Eyes on me or I’m not moving, got it?”

You nod your head as he stills, opening your eyes to make eye contact with him and whining when he doesn’t continue even after you’ve obeyed his commands. He clenches your jaw firmly,

“What? My cock made you dumb already? Answer me, slut. Got it?” 

“Yes! I got it, please move!”

You’re begging as he lets go of your jaw, bringing your legs over his shoulders and deeply thrusting into you, tip hitting your cervix at the new angle. Your moans are replaced with screams as this new angle draws you closer to your second release. He can tell by the way that you’re clenching that you’re close. He dips his head down, kissing and biting all down your neck and chest, leaving bright red marks in their wake. Your voice breaks as you cum again, this time much harder than the last. He scoffs,

“You’re pathetic, ya know that?” 

He pushes into you a couple more times, releasing his load into your spent hole before pulling out, watching as a mix of both of your cum seeps out. You’re left laying in your bed, breath ragged as he cleans himself up, putting his pants on and throwing you a wet wipe to clean yourself up. You slowly wipe yourself down, wincing at the slight pain between your legs. 

“I’m busy tomorrow so don’t ask me to come over.” 

He says coldly before leaving you there, naked and alone. 

༄ ༄ ༄

The next day, you’re set to meet up with your friend, Chaeryeong for a little study date. As you’re getting ready you check yourself out in the mirror, noticing all the hickeys he’s left on your neck from the night before. Seething at the idea that he effectively marked you up like you’re still his to claim, you calm yourself down and find something to hide all the marks. Hoping a little color corrector and concealer will do the trick, you sling your bag over your shoulders, walking into the cold winter air, shivering as you walk to the cafe to meet Chaeryeong. Upon seeing her, you find two drinks waiting at the table. 

“Chaer, you're too sweet! Buying my drink for me? I love you,”

She stands up to give you a hug, laughing as you both sit down. You take off your jacket as you get comfortable, sipping at the hot latte that instantly warms you up from the inside. 

“I knew you would need it after the last few days you’ve had. You still let Taehyun do a number on you, huh?”

She says, gesturing to the slightly visible bruising still found on your neck. 

“Fuck, I thought I covered that up.”

You curse as you cover your neck with your hand, pulling your ear muffs over your neck to hide them. 

“Why are you still hooking up with him? He treats you like shit and you two broke up months ago. Why do you keep torturing yourself?”

You sigh knowing her words are coming from a place of genuine concern for your well being. Also because you didn't have an answer yourself. You didn't know why you kept going back to him, asking him for sex or always dropping everything when he asked you for it. 

“I don’t know. I’m just drawn to him. I just can’t say no.”

He always had this effect on you. Ever since you first started dating and things were still cute and sweet, whenever sex was mentioned you two were animals ready to pounce on each other. You just couldn't resist one another. Even after your breakup, your sexual chemistry was just too perfect to give up. You were afraid that you wouldn’t find anyone who could bring you feeling even half as much pleasure as Taehyun could bring you. 

“You’re being self-destructive again. He’s just using you for sex but you still like him, despite the way he treated you. You have Stockholm Syndrome.”

You chuckled at her joke but you couldn’t deny her point. 

“Alright, alright, can we get away from my destructive tendencies for a bit and focus on this exam we have to study for?” 

She just let the topic be, knowing that you didn’t like to talk about it but she just wanted to express her concern for you. 

༄ ༄ ༄

After your study session, Chaeryeong mentions a little party that her sorority is throwing, inviting you in hopes that you show up.

“A party? This weekend? I don’t know Chaer, I have a lot of work to do and we have that exam on Monday…”

“It's only Thursday and the party is Saturday night! If you lock in these next few days you should be fine! Please Y/N! I really want you to be there!”

You’re contemplating still, about to turn her down when you really think about it. A party at a sorority? Taehyun is bound to be there. You feign a perplexed look to hide the smirk trying to creep up your face.

“Oh, alright. I’ll come! But only because you bought me a latte today.”

You both laugh as you head back to your respective dorms. You felt bad about lying to her about the true reason behind your attendance, but you brush it off before you let your guilty conscience get the best of you. You decide that you need to get all your work done as soon as you can so you can actually attend the party on Saturday. You’re about to open your laptop when you get a message on your phone.

Dick Appointment😒:

coming over, leave your door unlocked

Looking at the message, you’re tempted to do as he says, thighs already rubbing together at the thought of him on top of you. But you think about Chaeryeong and all the work and exams you have to study for, deciding that your awaiting work is more important than getting dicked down. 

You:

thought you were busy today?

You knew your response would only be met with bitterness, but it was fun to mess with him whenever you could. But you really didn’t need him to come over.

Dick Appointment 😒:

coming over there to fuck that nasty attitude out of you

You:

can’t, have a lot of work to get done before this saturday 

Dick Appointment 😒:

why saturday? 

You roll your eyes as he blatantly ignores your need to get your work done. But what did you expect from someone who barely cared about you in the first place?

You:

going out with Chaeryeong and some friends, why do you care?

He reads the message but never responds, not that you’re surprised because he always loses interest as soon as the conversation shifts away from sex. Whatever, you had work to get done and you couldn’t afford any more distractions. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Saturday rolls around and you find yourself getting ready early, a reward for getting all your work done and having studied a good amount for your upcoming exam. You hadn’t gone out in a while so you took this chance to get all dolled up, partly because you wanted to look good for yourself, but mostly because you wanted Taehyun to find you irresistible, not that he didn’t already. He might act like a dick but it was you who he always came back to, right? That was the mindset you went into the night with, anyway. 

Finally ready to go out, you texted Chaeryeong that you were on your way. Upon arriving at the sorority house, you were met by an excited, already drunk Chaeryeong who hugged you while jumping up and down. 

“It always surprises me that you can get even more bubbly when you’re drunk.”

“You can say that again.”

You heard a familiar voice. You recognized the girl to be Yeji, one of Chaeryeong’s sorority sisters. 

“Yeji! It’s so good to see you again!.”

You give each other a hug before they let you in, handing you a shot to take with them. After taking a couple shots over the span of an hour, your body had loosened up, dancing with Chaeryeong and some of her friends as the alcohol coursed through your bodies. As you were dancing, you glance at the front door, a familiar group of boys catching your attention. Taehyun eyes you immediately, heading towards you. 

“We need to talk,”

His voice is stern and every bone in your body wanted to pull away from him, wanting to act out to see how he’d react. But you let him pull you away, assuring Chaeryeong, who held a confused and concerned expression on her face, that everything was alright. 

He drags you to an empty corner of the house, one where the music is just barely audible so you can actually have a conversation. 

“Is this what you meant by ‘going out?’ You’re at a fucking party.”

He practically hisses at you, pissed off that you didn’t tell him the whole truth about your activities. 

“Well I am out. And besides, you’re not my boyfriend anymore Taehyun, why should I tell you where I am or what I’m doing? So you can try to control me again like you did before?” 

You look unbothered as you scoff at him, not sure if it was the alcohol that was talking or if you were just finally fed up with him acting like he can get whatever he wants from you. He clenched his jaw in anger, an action you usually find irresistible. 

“Who do you think you are talking to me like that? As if I won’t just fuck you here in front of everyone. Then they’ll know you’re mine.” 

The way he’s walking up to you, essentially backing you up into the wall behind you doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but rather you see it as a challenge. His need to claim you is confusing, considering he wants nothing to do with you barring sex.  

“I’m not yours. And I never will be again. Act as tough as you want but I’m not yours Kang Taehyun.” 

You push back, backing him up on the wall opposite to the one he had you against. He lets you push him back before swiftly holding your waist and pinning you up against the wall instead. 

“Don’t make me mark you up again, Y/N, you know I’m not afraid to do it.”

“You’re a dick you know that?” 

“Oh I know, sweetheart,” 

He says before harshly smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is sloppy and needy, tongues everywhere as you both try to get impossibly closer. Teeth biting your bottom lip, he breaks away to trail his kisses down your neck, creating new bruises over the ones that just barely healed from a few days prior. You try your best to bite back a moan, not allowing him the satisfaction of you giving into him. 

“You’re a sadistic fuck, what’s wrong with you?”

He continues his barrage on your neck and collar, biting down especially hard at your comment, causing you to wince at the pain, feeling the tiniest bit of blood trickle down your neck. 

“What the fuck did you say to me you little brat? Are you forgetting who holds the power here?” 

“I’d be surprised if you thought you did.” 

You’re provoking him at this point. You knew you stood no chance against him, you couldn’t beat him at his own game. But you were certainly going to make it more difficult for him, challenging his every step with your bratty comments and actions. 

“Oh so you’re being a brat on purpose. You want me to go hard on you? Or maybe I should go easy, and give you the opposite of what you want?” 

You’re not ready to relinquish control yet, as if you had it in the first place. But to you, this was your own personal victory. Riling up Taehyun who was normally very private about being intimate with anyone, especially you. Acting out like this in a place where anyone could catch you at any time. This was your win. 

“Fuck you, Taehyun.” 

“Oh, I will.”

You’re taken aback as he feels you up under your shirt, lifting it enough to expose your stomach. The cool air and his cold hands on your warm body cause you to shiver into him, hand moving up to his shoulder to ground yourself. He was roughly kneading your tits together, pinching your nipples that perked up against his cold fingers. You’re fighting every fiber in your being to hold back a moan, strained breaths taking their place. He takes this as a challenge, taking his mouth to your tits and biting down hard on the soft flesh. You reel back into the wall, arching your back and pushing your chest further into his face. He takes the chance to mark up your tits as well, taking your nipples between his teeth, sucking and biting. Coupled with the pain you’re feeling pleasure. As much as you hated feeling pain, it felt so good when Taehyun was the one giving it to you. 

“Come on you little slut, make the noises you want everyone to hear. You never hold back when we’re alone, what’s different now? Didn’t you want people to catch us?”

He’s taunting you and it's working, biting your lip raw to suppress any moans. He slots his knee between your legs, letting your pussy rest against his thigh. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind yourself on his thigh, something you tried to stop yourself from doing. But your attempts to stop yourself were futile, finding your own body betraying you as the flexed muscle of his thigh along with the rough fabric of your jeans hit your clit perfectly. Slowly, some whimpers leave your throat, followed by shallow breathing. Your head was spinning, intoxicated by Taehyun, the effects of the alcohol barely present. 

“You’re dumb again and I haven’t even had my way with you yet? Typical,”

You wanna bite back but your words fail you, pushing a moan past your lips instead, involuntarily agreeing to his claim. 

“Fuck…”

He grabs you by the wrist, halting any pleasure to your body as he harshly pulls you into an empty bedroom. His hands are on you instantly, hands going into your jeans to cup your ass. He pulls you in close, kissing and sucking on your lips as your hands get lost in his hair. You let your moans free, not being able to hold them back any longer. You curse your weak resolve, something you’d beat yourself up over later. He has your pants off in no time, pulling his own down as he lifts you up, letting your back hit the door shut as he has you firmly pressed up against it. You’re embarrassingly wet, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“You’re never gonna escape me. Only I can make you so wet like this by barely giving you anything.”

You hate yourself for constantly going back to him, but the way he acts, even if it's stuck up and you hate it– always has you coming back for more. He was right, no one could make you feel as good as he can. 

He thrusts into you, breaking you out of your thoughts and coaxing a long and drawn out whimper from you. Your head hits the back of the door pretty hard, but you don’t feel the pain as Taehyun drilling into you completely relieves you from it. His thrusts are sharp and rough, skin slapping loud as he puts more and more force into fucking you, releasing all the pent up anger and frustration you just put in him. Your grip is everywhere, in his hair, on his shoulders, running up and down his arms, anything to try and stabilize yourself as you feel your legs start to wobble. 

Of course he knew when you were close, harshly pulling out of you. 

“FUCK YOU!”

It's almost like you can’t control your emotions as he rips your orgasm away from you. You wanted to cry at the ache and frustration, so used to getting what you want from him. He rarely ever edged you, finding too much pride at making you cum quickly with a couple thrusts, it actually hurt him a little to not finish you off. But you had to be punished for acting out. You smack at his shoulders as he puts you down, only to spin you around, leaning you over the bed. In front of the bed is a large vanity mirror, one that gives you a perfect view of the entire room, and the menacing look on Taehyun’s face. He yanks you by the hair, holding your head up as he walks up between your legs. 

“Watch yourself get ruined by my cock. Watch yourself fall apart as you realize you can’t live without me or my dick. Want to cum? Don’t close your fucking eyes you dirty slut.”

His words are venomous, but you can't get enough as you’re backing your hips into him, asking for it like you’re in heat. He delivers a particularly hard and loud slap to your ass, grinning as he watches it bounce. There's something about the way that he just looks down at you like you're nothing but a sleeve for him to drown his dick in that gets you going.

“Hurry up”

Another hard slap to your ass and yank of your hair keep you at bay, holding your tongue back at the pain. 

“Shut up! I’ll give it to you when I think you deserve it.”

He pulls your head back almost completely, using his hand to hold your jaw open as he spits into your mouth. You try your best to seductively swallow his spit, hoping that he’ll ease up on you and finally give you what you want. He runs his hands up and down your body, rubbing his tip over your cunt to tease you. He can’t wait to be in you again, sliding in and bottoming out immediately. 

You’re trying your best to keep your hips still, no longer being able to keep up your front, worried he’ll stop his movements if you push back onto him. He can sense your obedience, and brings a hand over your stomach and down to your clit, toying with it, thrusts nothing short of unforgiving. Your mouth is hung open from the pleasure, moans non-existent as your throat is too dry to produce them. You’re clenching over him, orgasm quickly approaching.

“See how you get rewarded when you’re being good for me? Finally you fucking learn”

But something in you always has to challenge him. It’s like second nature, even when you don’t want to respond back to him, you do, out of spite. Out of the growing hatred you have for the man who you can’t seem to detach yourself from. 

“If I don’t get it from you I’ll get it from someone else”

Silence. No moans, no thrusts, no sounds of your slick rubbing against your folds. It’s almost like you broke him. 

“If you can get it from someone else, then I should just stop here, right? You can finish from someone else using you like this?” 

He slides out of you, delivering yet another harsh slap to your ass, this time much harder than the last and leaving a bright red hand print. The tears that were brimming your eyes many times during the night are finally at their limits, pushing past your eyes and falling down your face. 

“Taehyun I… I’m so sorry I didn’t mean any of that please, please help me I’m sorry!”

You knew better than to grovel. If anything, this would make your attachment to him worse. But you were nothing short of a nymphomaniac, only caring about the need to cum and the feelings surrounding it later, once you’ve gotten your fill— literally. 

“I can’t stand you”

He flips you over, slamming back into you again as you scream, this time his name flows out of your mouth. You’re so grateful that begging worked, but you’re just as annoyed at yourself for repeating the cycle over and over again. This time you’re face to face with him, never breaking eye contact as his previous rule still stood. ‘Watch yourself get ruined’ but instead you’d watch him, ruining you physically and emotionally. 

All the mental barriers you put up around him, all the back talk telling him to stop asking about your plans and what you’ll be doing, all the attempts at trying to be better than him and meaner than him, all severing at the promise of what? The possibility that you’ll get to cum? You couldn’t stand yourself either. 

His hands were tight around your waist, bruising the supple skin as he hammered into you for the nth time. He was driving you up the wall, your release crashing over you in mere seconds. Writhing under him, you’re panting like a dog, not being able to handle the immediate over sensitivity that you’re feeling. You always were a sucker for the way his eyes peered into your soul every time you guys had sex, like he still cared, like he still wished you were his. 

But part of you wondered about his actions just now. 

Why did he care so much about the comments that you made, knowing they were false threats because you always went back to him? Was it just a pride thing? Was he so committed to the bit of claiming you that he just got a little too intense? Or did he still harbor secret feelings for you? 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts at the feeling of him filling you up to the brim, but not yet pulling out. 

“If you really want whatever this is between us to end, just say so. I can’t play these games if you’re gonna threaten to get fucked by someone else.”

Did he really still have feelings for you? Or was this just another one of his attempts to control you, manipulate you into staying with him indirectly?

“You fuck me like no one else can. I have to keep you on your toes though, right?”

The smirk that forms on his face at your words is the first time in a while you’ve seen his face relax. Like you made the right choice and he was so pleased with your words. 

“You just love making things difficult, don’t you?”

You chuckle at his words, confirming them.

You had the perfect opportunity for an out, but of course you didn't take it. Because why not subject yourself to more emotional pain and damage when you can have the best fuck of your life whenever you wanted it, right?

[dasiesanddarkness]

still getting people that tell me this is good and i am desperate for validation/scared of writing Kaz so how's this:

Kaz didn’t say anything, so Jesper took it upon himself to break the silence. “I’d love to participate in whatever job you’ve got lined up, Kaz, but if I leave this bed Inej, Wylan, and Nina will all try to kill me and I have no intention of dying this young so I’ll tell them it’s because you told me too, and then they’ll all try to kill you to, and it’ll just be very messy. Better for both of us that I stay right here.”

“I have no intention of making you get off that bed any time soon,” Kaz said. There was something different in his face, and Jesper wished he knew him well enough to tell what it meant.

He could feel the threat of silence looming again. “Good, good. Would you mind telling me what exactly happened? Everyone else has been so vague, and it’s boring. Please, give me all the gorey details.”

“You got shot.” Kaz informed him. The corner of his mouth was lifted slightly, which meant that he was being intentionally difficult.

Jesper rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible conversationalist. This is why no one likes you, you know. You don’t talk enough.”

“Better than being disliked because I talk too much,” Kaz quipped. A part of Jesper was hurt. He shoved that part into a box and sat on it.

“If only I could relate. However, no one dislikes me. I’m loved by everyone, Kaz. Even you.” Stupid, he thought. But his mouth was moving, and it had no intention of stopping. “I’ve finally melted your cold heart, admit it.” He knew what was coming- the rejection, the “You wish.” He knew he’d be thinking about it for days, regretting saying it and wishing that Kaz had just said yes and hating himself for putting him in the position to say no. It would keep him up at night, playing on a loop in his head while he tried to think about anything else.

“How are you feeling?”

Jesper blinked. Kaz showed no change in emotion, so he did his best to catch up. “Fine. Nina insists that I need to stay here to “heal” but I'm pretty sure she and Inej are just sick of me and using it as an opportunity to get a break.”

fic where jesper gets hurt and Kaz freaks out?

Inej’s voice was soft when she spoke. “He was really scared, Jes.”

“Wylan? Trust me, I know. He’s yelled at me at least three times since-”

“No.” Inej was looking at him intently. She was being serious, the one thing Jesper had been avoiding since he woke up. “Kaz.”

Jesper blinked. “Kaz? Inej, don’t tease. I’m still of weak constitution.”

[nexiva]

You made me hate you

Part 5

Bucky x reader

Warnings: nothing new yet, just good old swearing and angry reader, sloooow burn

Summary: Reader is training some new recruits :)

A/N: Winter break and I’ve got a loot of free time to write so here you go 😏

Masterlist

Days had passed since the last time I saw him. I didn't even know how many. Days of pretending that conversation never happened. Days of avoiding Bucky Barnes like my life depended on it.

But something was different now.

Before, my hatred burned hot—sharp, raw, consuming. Now? It was still there, but it sat heavier, like a dull ache in my chest. I hated that I kept replaying his words in my head. I hated that I had no clever retort. I hated that, deep down, a part of me wondered if he was right.

Oh well, fuck him.

I shook the thought away and focused on the recruits standing in front of me.

Fresh faces, eager but clueless. Some of them had raw talent, others… well, they needed work. I tightened my wraps and stepped forward, scanning the group with narrowed eyes.

“Alright,” I barked. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Newbies hesitated a bit, glancing at each other like scared little puppies. I rolled my eyes.

“Well? Move!”

That got them going. They launched into drills, throwing punches, dodging, rolling. Some had decent form. Others? Not so much.

I stepped in, adjusting stances, correcting punches, barking out orders. A younger recruit—probably no older than nineteen—kept flinching every time I moved toward him.

“You scared of me, rookie?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He swallowed hard. “No, ma’am.”

I smirked. “Good. Because out there?” I jabbed a finger toward the exit. “Hesitation gets you killed.”

We ran through drills for the next hour, my voice sharp, my patience thin. But despite my frustration, I could see improvement. They were getting better, stronger.

The door creaked open.

Barnes (and Steve but somehow I haven’t noticed him until seconds later.) The trainees momentarily shifted their attention to the two super-soldiers entering the room.

“You think Y/L/N is at least somewhat as strong as they are?” one of them whispered to his friend, grinning foolishly—apparently forgetting that my hearing is far sharper than that of an average person. His mistake.

Without hesitation, I swept his legs out from under him, making sure he hit the ground with force—but safely.

I gritted my teeth and leaned down slightly, whispering, “It’s Agent Y/L/N, by the way.” Then, with a smirk, I winked and him and straightened up. I even heard Steve chuckling in the back.

“Keep going!” I snapped, watching as they scrambled back into position.

Steve and Barnes were training in the other corner of this gigantic room. I barely even saw them from where I was standing, but somehow the tension here was suffocating. I knew Bucky was waiting for something—maybe a glance, maybe a reaction. But I wasn’t going to give it to him.

The training session had finally ended. The recruits were exhausted, dripping with sweat, and eager to get out of here. I dismissed them with a sharp nod and made my way to the showers, relishing the thought of washing away the grime of the day.

The hot water stung against my sore muscles, steam curling around me as I let myself unwind for just a moment. The sounds of the gym faded, leaving only the steady rhythm of water hitting tile.

I didn’t hear the recruits lingering outside. I didn’t hear the whispered insults, the crude remarks.

But someone did.

Barnes and Steve had been gathering their things on the other side of the gym when they overheard one of the recruits snicker to his friend.

"She’s such a bitch."

Bucky froze. His fingers flexed against his duffel bag.

"Yeah," another voice chimed in. "Acts all high and mighty like she’s better than everyone."

"Maybe if she actually got laid, she wouldn’t be such a—"

The recruit didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Before he could even process what was happening, Bucky had him shoved up against the lockers, metal fingers gripping the front of his shirt with terrifying ease.

The other recruits backed away immediately, eyes wide, unsure of whether to intervene or just run.

"Buck, just take it easy—they're just kids," Steve said, his eyes filled with concern.

"You got something more to say?" Bucky’s voice was low, controlled, but deadly.

The recruit swallowed hard, his bravado disappearing in an instant. "I—I didn’t mean—"

Bucky yanked him forward slightly, just enough to make his point. "Say it again. I dare you."

The kid shook his head quickly, eyes darting around for help. None came.

Bucky leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don’t talk about your superior officer like that. Ever." The recruit nodded frantically.

"What the hell is going on here?" My voice sliced through the tension.

Bucky didn’t budge. His chest was rising and falling steadily, jaw clenched. He was furious. I stepped forward, arms crossed, still dripping from the shower. - "Barnes, back the hell off. Now." - He exhaled sharply through his nose, but he let go. The recruit stumbled forward, looking like he wanted to bolt.

I turned to the rest of them. "Out. All of you. Now!.” I never actually heard myself screaming like that. I was furious.

They didn’t hesitate. They all scurried out like frightened rabbits, leaving only me, Steve and Bucky.

I stared at him. "What the hell was that?"

His nostrils flared. "He was talking shit—"

"I don’t fucking care. They’re stupid children who need to learn." My voice was firm. "They’re my recruits. Not yours. You don’t get to throw them around like that."

“Y/N, Buck was really just trying to-” I scoffed, shaking my head. "You’re really defending him? What a surprise Rogers!” I turned my head back to Barnes.

"I’m telling you that you don’t have power over them. Over me." My fingers clenched. "You don’t get to act like some self-appointed protector. I can handle myself."

Bucky mumbled something under his breath and stormed out of the gym. I stared at Steve as if I had just seen a ghost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, you're right. He shouldn't have reacted that way."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Finally, someone’s on my side—only a few months too late."

This strange day had passed so quickly. It was already evening. God, I was so tired. I really needed some sleep.

But I didn’t get enough sleep that night. Why you may ask? Because for the first time, something so weird was about to happen that would turn my world a biiit upside down.

[arcadia-smith]

Falling out of love. (I know how this feels, and I am sorry in advance.)

Bucky Barnes x reader

It was the small things you noticed first—how he stopped reaching for you when he woke up in the mornings, how the soft smiles had turned into tight-lipped ones, how he barely held your hand anymore. How the nights were always colder.

You tried to fix it. You always tried. You stayed up late, writing him letters, hoping he would talk to you about the ghosts he couldn't outrun. You cooked meals he liked, did everything to make him feel safe, loved, wanted. But it wasn’t enough.

You don’t remember the last time you felt at home in Bucky’s arms.

Maybe it was weeks ago, curled up on the couch, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back. Or maybe it was months ago, when he kissed you in the rain and promised he wasn’t going anywhere.

But now, standing in your shared apartment, you realize something awful—you’ve been losing him for a long time.

And he let you.

The air is thick with silence, the kind that presses against your ribs and makes it hard to breathe. Bucky leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, looking at the floor. He won’t meet your eyes. Won’t say anything to stop this.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "You don’t love me anymore."

His head snaps up, eyes wide. "That’s not true."

"Then say something, Bucky." Your voice cracks, and you hate it, hate how desperate you sound. "Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me this—this thing between us isn’t dying."

His metal fingers curl into a fist. His jaw clenches. But he doesn’t speak.

Because you’re not wrong.

You let out a trembling breath. "I keep waiting for you to fight for us. But you won’t, will you?"

His throat bobs like he’s trying to swallow back something sharp. When he finally speaks, it’s barely above a whisper.

"I don’t know how."

You close your eyes, and for a moment, you wish he’d lied. You wish he’d told you that things would get better, that he’d try harder, that he wants to fix this. But he won’t. He can’t.

And the worst part? You understand.

You step closer, reaching out like muscle memory, like maybe if you touch him, you can remind him what you are to each other. What you were.

Your fingers brush against his vibranium hand, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky pulls away.

It feels like a bullet to the chest.

Tears burn in your eyes. "You don’t get to do this."

His breath shudders. "Do what?"

"Let me love you just enough to keep me here but never enough to make me stay."

Something in his expression cracks. You see it—the regret, the pain, the love that still lingers but isn’t enough to hold onto.

Bucky Barnes, the man who once held you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing, is now standing in front of you, letting you go.

And that’s what breaks you.

You nod slowly, like you’ve finally accepted what your heart refused to believe. "Okay."

His eyes snap to yours, panic flashing in the blue depths. "Okay?"

"You don’t have to say anything else," you whisper. "I get it now."

You grab your bag off the counter, fingers trembling. You’re still hoping, deep down, that he’ll stop you. That he’ll say something, anything, to make you stay.

But Bucky just stands there, silent and still.

And that silence is the loudest heartbreak you’ve ever heard.

Your voice wavers. "I love you, Bucky."

He squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body tensing. When he opens them, they’re red-rimmed, full of everything he won’t say.

"I know."

That’s it.

That’s all he gives you.

You let out a choked laugh, shaking your head. "God, I wish that was enough."

Then you walk away.

You make it to the door before you hear him whisper your name, so soft you almost think you imagined it. But you don’t stop. Because if you do, you might never leave.

The door clicks shut behind you.

And this time, Bucky doesn’t chase after you.

Because he never has.

And he never will.

[aggieharkness]

And in her arms, she cradled your heart Chp. 3

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: if I ever lose you, lay me down beside you, as your presence was my life, and not having you in my arms will be my death. Dress me in your kisses and throw roses at my feet, for if I don't wake from this nightmare to your bright eyes loving me I don't wish to draw breath anymore.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, oral (Lilia receiving), fingering (Lilia receiving), tit play, nightmares, mention of blood, storms, pregnancy, age gap, magical conception.

Author's note: I'm back!!! I have risen from the dead and escaped the claws of academic life to drop this new chapter. I hope you all like it, and there is a reason why there are no dialogues whatsoever. Special shout-out to @bravewithacapitalb for being my Beta Reader and my medical advisor for this whole project. You are an angel. Please, do tell me how it looks, if you like it or if there are things I need to change. I accept constructive criticism, and if there's anything you might want to see in this story, don't hesitate to ask, I'll add it to the best extent I can. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Lilia Calderu, and Jac for writing her so beautifully.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2

Word count: 15K

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"

It was odd with how much ease the crystal-clear skies had filled with clouds. The dark, calm veil of the night had been turned into a sea of thunder and lightning that ripped through the air in booming sounds that made the ground rumble. Their eclectic shapes and sharp edges sliced through the clouds, casting such bright lights high up in the sky that one would think it was morning already, but it was far from it. The loss of power all throughout that city was witness to the shadows that paraded through the streets when there was no sign of lightning in the sky. Pillars of buildings and houses shook under the strength of the thunder, a scream or two escaping mouths at the sudden noise, but they were drowned, forgotten, under the splendour of mother nature. At moments like this gentle tendrils of sage magic snaked around your limbs like silks that caressed your skin. Rain poured hard onto the ground, hitting the glass by the front door and the windows with such force that you had feared for a moment they might break, letting the cold air inside the house, but the thought vanished as if the raindrops were washing over you, falling on your skin in a perfect rhythm that matched your heart. There was no moon, no light that could bathe the room, but you weren’t scared of the creatures that hid in the darkness, their piercing eyes stalking, waiting to be let in; those beings lived in the depths of your mind and as real as they seemed to you, they were nothing but dust this time around. They could not claw their way out of your mind to haunt you and chase you, to make you feel terror and to make all those doubts that had rendered you almost speechless only a few hours ago real before your eyes.

They had tried though, and the last echoes of a nightmare you could not remember were beginning to dissipate with the rain. The only lingering image that was becoming blurrier with each passing second was that of Lilia lying in bed, pretty much like she was right now, her chest rising and falling in steady breaths under the covers, but her pristine nightgown had been a sea of blood and tears that still made you shake from your position by the kitchen window. You could smell it, that metallic stench that was engraved in the back of your mind, and yet the truth was that she was perfectly alright, sleeping peacefully. Another lightning strike sliced through the sky, filling the room for an instant with a bright white halo that granted you a moment, a second in time, to see her perfect face. Every inch of her olive-kissed skin was a fantasy for you, a forbidden fruit that you could not keep your eyes off, following the small wrinkles on her forehead whenever she frowned, might it be in frustration or concentration, that now were non-existent in the calmness of her slumber, the shape of her long dark lashes resting over her cheeks, those deep brown eyes of hers hidden behind her eyelids, your heart yearning every minute of every day to get lost in them. Every glance you got from them, every moment when she rested her gaze upon your frame or locked eyes with yours you felt as if the world had stopped spinning, the universe still as the breath in your lungs hitched. You drowned every single time in them. A sea of melted chocolate that enfolded you and held you as you felt your body fall down the abyss of her mind, every thought and memory laying bare before you as you drank her in, the calmness of her nature, feeling every sensation as if you were her.

It was dizzying, even now, to imagine yourself in that position, so close to her that you could feel the heat emanating from her body as you got lost in her big doe eyes that hid nothing from you. The shape of her nose was next in this journey you were making, elongated, slightly curved, and with the hint of a bump near the bridge. It wasn’t the usual button-like nose that every girl wished for, Lilia’s had personality, a beauty in itself that you adored with every fibre of your being, a glimpse into certain Mediterranean traits that you held dear in your heart. She had a nose that reminded you of your ancestors, of people you had cherished deeply until their very last days, people that you could only now visit through pictures in an old album that rested in a drawer under the telly. To a certain extent, and as weird as you were aware it sounded, every time you saw it, it reminded you of home. Every little thing she did reminded you of home. Her citrusy perfume took you back to the field of orange blossoms and summer by the coast, the way her hands moved with every single word she said as if that could give her speech a more emphatic aura as if the message could be understood better. People gave her strange looks whenever you were in public, but to you, it’s a most endearing quality that you wished she’d never lose. The light had grown dimmer as your eyes had moved to her cheeks, a rosy pearly tint over her skin that she had been carrying with her for weeks now, that glow that everyone talked about, you suppose, when a lady became with child. Either way, it enthralled you and captured your eyes before they moved on to her lips.

They were slightly parted, a thin line separating them as the plump flesh glistened under the last few instants of light, her lip balm adding a gentle translucent cherry tone to them. You had memorised the feeling of the soft flesh deep within your mind every single time you had shared a kiss, the taste of her a continuous lingering flavour on your taste buds, those rich honey tones that dripped thickly onto your mouth with each breath that ghosted over your lips, the sweetness sending a rush through your body every time, without fail. She breathed life into your lungs whenever she brushed them against yours, a smile creeping up when you weren’t looking as she observed how you worked when you sat on the grass sketching bumblebees that floated lazily in between the flowers. Smirks were also one of her best features, her lips curling lopsided whenever she snickered, whenever she tried to tempt you, your body falling under her spell without a fight. That mouth of hers was heavenly as much as it was sinful and every word that fell from her rosy lips seemed to always be laced with love and care, truths that she could not hide, would not hide. You were almost as taken by them as her eyes. You could not tear your gaze away when she spoke, watching how they moved, how her teeth bit down gently on her lower lip when she was busy doing tarot readings, her full attention on the cards, the way she murmured chants when she prepared altars and spells, hypnotised at most. But it was when they were pressed against your skin, on the crook of your neck, that you adored them the most, when she whispered sweet nothings as if your flesh would suddenly appear tattooed with them, forever engraved on your body for the world to see. It was maddening to think about those things when they rested slightly ajar in peaceful slumber before you.

The room was filled with darkness once more, but your eyes had adjusted well to the lack of light, and in the safety of the shadows, leaves, and branches waying under the force of the rainfall, it was as if you could still see her, clear as day, laying on your bed. There were small freckles painted all over her body, constellations that had fallen from the firmament and become flesh, the depths and secrets of the universe written in every inch of skin that you had ever cherished and kissed. You had followed them like a castaway in search of water, drinking in every story that was reflected on her flesh, every scar and wound that your lips had kissed, almost as if the memories attached could be soothed by that simple action. No matter how many times you looked at her perfect face it was as if beauty had just been presented to you, a Venus that walked the Earth, running away from the canvas where she belonged. Just a second later thunder roared high above your heads, the walls and windows shaking at the terrorizing sound, but Lilia didn’t stir, the emotions of the day having drained her completely, or that’s what you thought. In truth, she had been awake since you had got up, the sudden chill on her side and the feeling of your weight lifting off the bed calling her from Morpheus arms back down to Earth. She would have sat in bed and asked you what was wrong, but she sensed that you needed to be left to your own thoughts this time, even if she missed having your arms around her waist. She made no attempt to move or even open her eyes, but she could feel your loving gaze on her as the sound of the rain filled her half-asleep head, almost lulling her back into those dreams that had slipped through her fingers, and she could not recall anymore.

Your fingers ached to touch her, to feel that ever so soft flesh under your palms but you could not bring yourself to do so, afraid you might disturb her. When she was asleep there was no danger of gaps or visions overtaking her mind, pausing her life, even if it was for a moment, leaving her confused and upset in most cases, when she was asleep there was a whole world just for Lilia where there was no pain, no past, present or future haunting her every waking moment, only what her subconscious wanted. Dreams that you had many times wondered what they were, and if you were in them. If only you knew that every single one of them was shaped around, you. It did not matter the scenery; it could be a cottage in the English countryside, roses growing tall in the garden with an archway of violet wisterias making way to the blue wooden front door where a brass hand worked as the knocker, tall magnolia trees swaying in the chilly breeze. Or a small house in Siracusa, surrounded by water, lost in between cliffs of sandy tones as the outside of the house lay filled with plumerias and emerald green grass that flourished around the property, getting lost in the horizon. She could almost smell the salty breeze when she dreamt of it, and she could almost make out the sound of the small sparrows and see the seagulls tracing the outlines of the coast, letting her entire being be dragged deeply into those dreams that took her back home. The sound of the waves against the rocks still lingered in the back of her mind, calling out to her like sirens that wished for her to return to sleep, but curiosity peeked as she felt your eyes on her, and she fought against them to remain awake. Still, they swirled in between her thoughts like lazy fish that swam in between seaweed.

They left the taste of homemade coffee on her tongue, the floral perfume that mixed with the salty air filling her lungs as she stood on the edge of the cliff. Every single time she found herself there, barefoot, a deep navy dress embracing her figure as the breeze made it twirl around her legs, the warm sun bathing her skin with gentle beams in a way that she hadn’t felt in centuries. In those moments, safely tucked in the depths of her brain, she could live the life she had always dreamt of, no death or pain, only the sound of the sea and the feeling of the sun. And then, stepping out of the small villa you would appear, breaking her gaze from the sea before her, its deep blue waters crashing and swirling underneath the cliffs, your hair glowing under the bright golden light of day, your eyes shining as they locked with hers, a simple white dress draped over your body like strings of pearls on your alabaster skin. Part of her knew that it wasn’t real, but her breath still hitched in her lungs at the sight, the grass under her feet soft and cool against the warm breeze as she made her way to you, hands reaching for hands, lips begging for lips. Your skin always felt the same, soft under her palms, fingers interlacing in a grasp that she never wanted to let go of, your perfume overtaking everything else in her lungs. Dreams are such wonderful things and yet whenever her subconscious wakes up and the coast vanishes into a white fog, your face is the last thing that Lilia’s mind remembers before it all turns into smoke but there is no sorrow for what she had lost. When she opens her eyes the first thing she sees is you and all those moments shared in faraway places, the kisses that she could almost feel against her lips are still there, real in a special way, her eyes lingering on your peacefully sleeping form right beside her.

If only you truly knew what went on in her sleep. You would slip into her dreams with the ease of sitting in a chair to have a cup of coffee, highly doubting you would ever want to wake up, but those fantasies were hers to keep, secrets that she didn’t need to share with anyone but herself. In the darkness of the room the last few sounds of waves mixed with the storm in Lilia’s mind, the rumbling of the thunder startling her and causing her body to jerk slightly, maybe an inch, on the bed, but her eyes remained closed. She had a feeling you had her exactly where you wanted her, and she was curious to see why it was so. Your hands rested on the kitchen counter knowing that the darkness that had the entire city trapped in its claws protected your greedy eyes, roaming over her face one more time even if you could only make out the shape of her profile. In those two years you had been with her you had made it your mission to memorise her, to engrave her entire body with fire in your brain, every wrinkle above her upper lip, all the tiny, almost invisible freckles that were sprinkled on her skin, the lines around and under her eyes from centuries of both happiness and sadness pulling the strings of your heart tenderly every time she smiled. She had never tried to look younger; she knew how old she was, and it was never in her mind to hide it, after all, time passes for everyone and she was no exception, she simply let nature reach the point in life where she felt most comfortable in and stayed like that. Time brought wisdom along with it and it was unavoidable to add age to that mix. Lilia wasn’t one to let her looks guide her existence, there had been many other things that had worried her far more than her looks. But every sign reflected on her body that spoke about how she wasn’t a beautiful young girl anymore weighted heavily sometimes on her shoulders, the passing of the centuries leaving an imprint that nothing could erase. Your eyes kissed every spot that she had ever felt insecure about, your lips cherished the marks time had left behind, from scars to wrinkles, wishing to show her what words could not make justice to. Every inch of her body was as perfect as was her messy mind, as was her velvety voice and her caring words.

She had worried that the age gap might cause trouble, that you would not understand her, that her kookiness mixed with the half a millennium that she carried in her bones would make you change your mind at the slightest opportunity, but every morning she woke up in your arms, your breath warm against her shoulder blades she convinced herself a little bit more that you weren’t going to leave. You had seen her at her worst, screaming in terror as her visions took over her mind, tears burning her cheeks in despair and yet you had stayed, comforted her, held her and whispered sweet nothings to sooth her. You had taken care of her in those moments when she dissociated for hours, making sure she was never cold and ensuring she stayed hydrated even if Lilia’s reflexes were slow and taking a single sip of water was a herculean task. Still, you stayed. Every day you stayed by her, woke up and went to be with her in your arms, laughed at her jokes, cooked and cuddled on the couch to watch Colombo or Murder, She Wrote, and every time she glanced at you the small bubble of doubts and fears that had claimed her heart the moment you had agreed to go out with her, would become smaller and smaller. To you, she could be five thousand years old, and you would still love her no matter what, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health until death do you part. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall was drowned by the even heavier rain that poured outside, the water drops slamming against the glass causing you to turn around and watch mesmerised by the way it fell over the trees and flowers, flooding the grass but never reaching the kitchen door. It seemed as if the weather was angry, furious at the world, but you could not understand as to why, everything had been calm only a couple of hours ago, balanced, and now it was as if something was off, but it had nothing to do with you or Lilia. A flash of red crossed your mind, thick blood that dripped over the window for an instant before your eyes blinked and the crimson liquid turned back to crystal clear rain, your senses spiking only to quiet down again. Just as quickly as it had happened it was gone along with the feeling that something was wrong.

Perhaps those little creatures that plagued your mind were not as controlled as you thought. A quiet ruffling of fabric startled you, causing you to turn around to see Lilia turning on her side, sitting down on the bed as the covers fell in slow waves of her body, coming to gather around her hips, a strap from her white nightgown falling off her shoulder. You had not heard it, but a frightened gasp had escaped your lips at the sight of the blood, a hallucination you could not understand, and the gentle lazy curiosity that had wrapped around Lilia’s body had snapped quickly at the sound, worry filling her chest. You hadn’t even realised the way you heart had sped up for a few instants. Her curls framed her face, ringlets that caressed her cheeks, draping over her exposed shoulders in a veil of peppery curls that suited her and matched her dark eyes, contrasting with the pearly shade of her gown. Both her hands were pressed firmly on the mattress even if she was sitting on her side observing you, holding your gaze amongst the shadows of the room. Another bout of lightning sliced through the sky, white beams breaking in and bathing the room once more even if it only lasted a few seconds. The way it had enveloped Lilia’s frame in a mix of pearly white and pink hues, making her skin glow in a halo of beauty and magic had your breath hitched in your lungs, her eyes glistening for less than an instant under the light with a calm but worried look, asking without uttering a word. You could not help but take in the flesh that was exposed to the night air, her neckline long, creamy, and soft as your fingers twitched in need, small wrinkles and freckles hand painted with all the care and perfection of an artist, no necklace that kept her skin from your lips, an obstacle most days when all you wanted to do was kiss her senseless. She was not one to show off that much skin, her shoulders only dressed in thin straps, at least one of them, the other completely bare for your hungry eyes to feast on.

With each breath you took your body separated from the counter, taking slow steps towards her and Lilia simply waited for you to reach her. Beauty marks danced on her flesh, sprawled over her chest, plunging deep in between her breasts, over her shoulders and down her arms, spots on the back of her veiny hands, one of the marks that you loved the most. They were small, nearly invisible to the naked eye, but you knew every inch of her, and even as the light faded, and the room became bathed in darkness once more you could trace, and pint point to every single one as if your life depended on it. She was your lifeline, your protector and your saviour, and as your steps got you closer to the bed your thoughts pushed the last remnants of the nightmare and the hallucination to the back of your mind so only one could remain. She was not only the most important woman you had ever met, the one that carried your heart and loved you, with all your virtues and faults, but she was now also the mother of your child as well, and seeing her sitting there, so innocent, waiting for you to tell her what was wrong you felt your heart melt. No number of nightmares, of tears shed by your subconscious as Lilia laid in bed in her own world of fear and despair, your hands cradling her face in hopes of making everything right again, of taking her pain and making it yours so she would not suffer even if your heart was bleeding just as much, could compare to reality. They were just images that your own mind created to cope with the fear and terror of this new chapter in life, those horrible creatures that crawled inside your own head making everything ten times worse but Lilia was right there, her head slightly tilted to the side as her breasts spilled ever so slightly from the neckline of her nightgown, the lace cupping them tenderly. There was an irrational need to feel her under your palms, for your thoughts to realise that this, was in fact, reality and not just some fear-induced pantomime that would soon turn into horror.

Your knees collided gently with the edge of the mattress, and your hands, that had been writhing and toying in anxiety with the hem of your shirt, laid firmly on the bed now, guiding you in the dark as you climbed over the bedsheets towards her. What if everything had been but a dream? A desire so deep to be something more with Lilia, to take a bigger step and create something meaningful and beautiful with her that your own brain had tricked you in your sleep? She could almost feel the wheels turning in your head, the way your body trembled with the doubts and worry in that unique way of yours that she had grown accustomed to. And yet she did not move. Her deep eyes held your gaze as best they could in the dark, the sound of the rain fading to the background as your body got closer to her, your fingers brushing over hers accidentally, a motion that sent sparks up your arms, that sweet electricity that you could never get enough of. Her golden mixed perfectly with your sage, and that simple feeling, her skin warm and soft under your fingertips, assured you that this was as real as the moon, the starts, the sun and everything that surrounded you both. She was as real as the cold rain that fell outside, as the morning mist that bathed petals and leaves alike, small gentle drops that scurried down the smooth surfaces as the sun travelled higher in the sky until they fell and collapsed against the ground. Real as the bird songs that accompanied dawn and bid farewell at dusk, as real as the hands that cradled her face and the feeling of her warm cheeks under your palms. How could your entire world have shrunk to the size of the woman sitting in bed? She was the most important being in your existence, she had been for two whole years and you still could not fully comprehend the fact that she was yours and you were hers, a whole eternity before you to live beside her, to cherish and hold her and love her until there was not a single speck of air left in you. Your thumbs rubbed her skin softly, fingertips pushing solitary peppery ringlets away from her face as her breath became a bit more hurried, her bosom heavy under the white lace, her hands unmoving from where they laid over the covers. How had life granted you such a gift, a prize in a competition you hadn’t even realised you had assigned to, that day you had crossed her threshold the sweetest memory, the smell of incense and vanilla still vivid in your mind, the house now filled with herbs and citrusy aromas that floated in between chairs and shelves and that lingered on Lilia’s skin? Rich like spices, sublime like honey, and deep, so very deep and intoxicating as the perfect wine. She called to you with her eyes, with the way her lips parted ever so slightly as if she wanted to whisper a thousand secrets to you, and yet not a sound came out, only the feeling of her hot breath ghosting over your nose and mouth as your body bend forward slowly never steering your eyes from hers, letting her thoughts travel and dance among yours in a calming ritual.   

She saw your pain, your anguish as the last few blurry images of your nightmare fought to stay, to haunt you and break you inch by inch, and as the sensations wrapped around her, your mind pleaded to be released of such burdens. You didn’t want to think of her bleeding, crying as the child you both wanted and loved so much already parted from her body before its time, and you did try to keep that image away from her, not wanting to scare her or even terrify her, but she had pushed through, and you couldn’t help but give in. They played on a loop, your fingers digging on the side of her face hoping that it would not unsettle her, bring forth worries that she had not voiced as the news of the child she would in a few months’ time bring into the world sunk in, her own mind comprehending her current situation but her body didn’t shaky, unlike yours, the touch of her fingertips against your knees reassuring, grounding. Golden tendrils pushed them away, love and care melting them until there was nothing left but her comforting presence in your head, no more blood, no more lingering sounds of tears and sobs, no more thoughts of loss and grief. Breathing deeply as the grip of terror released you, your lungs filled with her perfume, clinging to her skin almost as if it was part of her, the sharp tinges of oranges and lemons cutting through the air and filling your body with her essence. Lilia knew how it felt to have demons chasing her, clawing at her at every waking moment, making her weak until she could only kneel on the floor in despair, and although you were no stranger to pain, she didn’t want you to suffer what she knew so well. You held her gaps and vision at bay whenever you were with her, loving her, whispering in her ear, and kissing her sorrows until they vanished into the ether; she was well accomplished on many branches of magic and dominating and transforming thoughts was one of them. The chaos that had unravelled in your mind stood still now, only silence in between your thoughts. Slowly Lilia had threaded her golden strings with yours, connecting each other as your own mind fought against you and now that your thoughts were tranquil, lazily floating around, you could feel her deep within you as the downpour happening outside became barely audible to either of you with each passing second.  

Her face was barely inches from yours and yet she made no effort to move from your grasp, the touch of her hands brushing your naked knees, your thumbs tracing the shape of her cheekbone before moving down to her lips, plump, quiet. Her hot breath teased the skin of your hand, but her eyes never left yours, not for a single instant, not even when the touch of your fingers travelled over her lower lip, smearing her balm. With barely time to think you pulled her towards you, crashing your mouth against hers in what started out as a gentle tender kiss to ground yourself, to put a final end to the questions that had overwhelmed you only a few moments ago, her body firm and hot under your palms, her lips soft and impossibly sweet, your tongue tracing and pushing gently against her mouth. She granted you access without a fight, willing to give you whatever you so desperately craved after what you had seen. She could have reassured you that it was not real, that everything would be fine, but it would have been futile, her words would have been brushed off as just that, words; you were someone who craved actions who believed that hands holding hands could do much more than a reassurance spoken in hushed tones, at least in these situations. Lilia though, was the opposite; she thrived in hearing you say that everything would work out, she held onto your every word as if they carried the meaning of the universe and you had both established an understanding that not many people would agree with. You only needed her, her body, her skin touching yours, her aroma and her steady breaths while she needed your understanding nature, your soothing loving whispers and all that went along with it. Thunder rumbled closer to the house, the windows rattling against the sound but to you both it was more of a soft noise in the background, hardly audible and therefore barely disturbing.

As Lilia’s lips parted your motions became more frantic, perhaps even needy, your tongue battling hers, tracing the outline of her teeth as your hands held onto her face a little bit more harshly pulling her even closer and holding her against you. The action, surprising, an air of control and desperation tainting every one of your movements caused a surprised quiet yelp to escape her but just as your lips clumsily parted from hers to bite down on her lower lip it melted into a moan that vibrated up her throat. It was hardly pain that Lilia felt, but the sudden discomfort as your canines left an imprint on her swollen lips sent shivers down her spine, delightfully drawing her completely awake, every one of her senses spiking as the darkness that enfolded the room, not even the flicker of a candle visible, made the feeling of your hands on her a most divine and maddening sensation. It was odd how easily a simple action such as the touch of your thumb over her jawline or your fingers brushing her curls off her shoulder to expose her neck would send her into overdrive. Part of her thought that maybe she should stop you, and talk with you about the nightmare but the logical part of her, the one that knew you and could read you like an open book, spoke to her in a reasonable matter. You needed her, and she would willingly give herself to you, every inch of her being, come rain or fog, hailstorms or earthquakes. Her body responded to your touch, aching for more than just tender brushes of your fingers, and as your thumb traced her lower lip once more Lilia’s hands travelled up your thighs, coming to rest on your hips but she didn’t pull you closer, simply let the feeling of the bare skin of your midriff under her palms satiate the ever-growing need she had for you, at least for the moment. A gasp nearly fell from your lips, but it never made its way out, your mouth falling in desperate kisses over the soft flesh of her jaw, a happy hum vibrating from her chest in approval. With each kiss a spark of electricity met your lips, shocking and yet delicious, not only her body luring you in, making you fall off the edge to kneel before her, cherish her and drink in her every move, her every sound and noise as if she was the only thing you needed to live, her skin your Bible, her body the only path you would ever walk, her every wrinkle a crossroad in which you would love to get lost on forever.

Sweet as honey and soft as silk her skin made you dizzy as with each kiss you journeyed down to her neck, that creamy column delicious as you licked, teeth scraping the flesh leaving red angry marks behind, but you never drew blood, not this time. A whimper echoed inside the room, falling from her parted lips as the grip on your hips became harder, the need to touch you and press you against her growing almost as quickly as the arousal that was burning through every cell. With a gentle lick you soothed the mark before continuing, tender pecks making up for the pain, not that Lilia minded. Lilia felt the way your fingers threaded through her curls, twirling without pulling, your other hand tracing the shape of her neck and chest, fingering the neckline of her gown. Lightning snapped high up in the sky, ripping the stillness of the clouds in sharp lines that bathed the room in white and pink, perhaps even a hue of purple that contrasted with Lilia’s skin and clothes, though you were unbothered by it. There was no need for light, your lips knowing perfectly well where to go to draw out lustful gasps from her, to make her hands shoot out to hold you in place, but it was beautiful to see that gentle pink hue painting her cheeks fading as her gown covered her body, hiding it from your hungry sight. Her brown eyes remained on your form for a few moments adoring the way you worshipped her, closing as your kisses reached the hollow of her neck, savouring the way she melted under your tongue, tastebuds drunk in the sweetness of her skin, completely lost as her chest rose and fell in fast breaths. Divine Mother, you just could not get enough of her, lips kissing and licking the swells of her breasts, your face moving with each breath she took, the grip on your hips almost bruising, but you needed more, you needed to have her underneath you writhing in passion, holding onto you as her world exploded in pleasure, remaining real under your touch.

The simple feeling of your fingers on the neckline of her dressing gown had sent a jolt of pleasure down to her core, her breasts heavy and ever so sensitive, now understanding that it was due to the pregnancy, but when your lips had made contact, kisses tender and gentle, your tongue brushing softly over her skin, she had not been able to prevent a moan from escaping her mouth, the sensations so deep that Lilia’s body temperature suddenly rose several degrees, fire coursing through her veins. Of course, the reaction had not gone unnoticed by you, remembering that Lilia hadn’t been able to use her lacy bras due to being incredibly oversensitive to the touch, a sign that should have given it all away really. With one last peck, you pulled away, watching how she had her head lulled back ever so slightly, eyes closed while her mouth remained ajar, her flesh flushed. Even in the dark, you could feel the heat of her body against your cooler body, the light of the storm having faded a few minutes before, encasing you both in shadows that burned in lust, that drove your mind into a hunger for her that filled your mind with a crazy haze. But your hands were still kind against her body, fingers pushing her peppery ringlets to her back as your other hand followed the lace of the neckline towards the strap that held the nightgown up around her body. As the pads of your fingertips caressed the skin under the thin string goosebumps rose all over Lilia’s body, watching mesmerised the way your hand pushed it off her shoulder, the flowy fabric of her gown moving like water over the shape of her breasts, lace brushing over her nipples as the straps slid down her arms, a gasp reaching your ears like an angels song, the material gathering around her waist, leaving her perfect upper body bare for your greedy eyes to devour, sinful thoughts filling your head as her arms moved to be released from the gown. The worry and terror that had taken you hostage was barely a memory, Lilia’s hands holding onto yours as much as her magic kept your chaotic mind at ease.

Bare before you all you wanted to do was bury your face in between her breasts and never let go but then again you would not see the ecstasy in her eyes, the love and pleasure that poured out of them like rivers of dark chocolate that overwhelmed your tongue and drove your mouth to taste her with renewed fervour, and you most certainly wanted to hold her gaze as you brought her to the edge and back, accompanying as she fell into the abyss of pleasure and passion that you had brought back into her life. The sight was simple divine, sublime as your eyes raked over her form with very little discretion, devouring every inch of the now exposed skin as if you had never seen it before. Without support her bosom sagged a little but that didn’t deter you from bending forward and placing soft kisses on the top of each breast, your lips casting featherlike touches on her skin that sent her mind reeling. Perhaps you were teasing her, she thought, but the look of utter devotion in your eyes proved otherwise as you sat on the heels of your feet to observe the way that gorgeous blush of hers had made its way down her chest and into the valley between her breasts, hidden underneath her ample bosom that rose and fell with each breath, taunting and desperate for your touch. Noticing how lost you were in your own dreams and ideas of what you would do to her she took the next step for you and grabbed the hands that rested on top of her thighs, covered by her nightgown and blanket, and brought them to her waist, a little bit higher if you were being honest. The back of your hands brushed the soft skin underneath her bosom, sending a shiver down your spine that matched the goosebumps on Lilia’s skin, swollen lips parted as she tried to push air into her lungs. The way her body molded to your hands, to your tender touch around her ribcage, was grounding, feeling her heat, scorching your fingers though you never wanted to let go, the rush of blood in her veins, the way her magic bubbled under her flesh like rivers of gold. A little voice inside your head wondered if maybe you should try to explain why the sudden need to have her but as much as you parted your lips to speak nothing came out.

There was no need though. Lilia understood, your silence confirmation that that nightmare had shaken you to your core more than she had realised, and as her eyes raked over your perfect face, hating the way your eyebrows furrowed as you flagellated yourself for not being able to voice your fears and worries, she took matters into her own hands. She would take care of you for the time being, until you were ready to regain control. Her movements were slow, and deliberate as she traced the shape of your forearms with her fingers, trails of fire left behind as her hands held onto your upper arms and shoulders. It came naturally to her to care for others and as the minutes clocked by, the storm showing no signs of stopping, it was easy to want to comfort and love you, her touch kind and gentle as she cradled your face in her hands, drawing you closer until your face was barely an inch from hers. Your life had changed completely in a matter of hours, a whole new future displayed before you as if you could choose, as if Lilia’s well-being and happiness rested in the palm of your hands, but it was an illusion. You didn’t have that kind of power, and it terrified you to think how different things would be, that dangers you had never even thought of were now your worst enemies, terrors and monsters that could in the blink of an eye take her and your baby from you. A single tear fell down your cheek, bitter and cold against your skin and it took you both and her by surprise, not thinking that this fear ran so deep within you, afraid that her solid body would fade into nothing under your palms. It broke Lilia’s heart to see you so lost, worry painting your features when only a minute before lust had cast shadows over your face. The lonely crystal drop was wiped by her thumb, the gesture comforting in a way that you could not describe, the feeling of her breath on your lips assuring you that she was alive and well and that she would remain so for as long as she could, a peppery curl escaping from behind her ear and coming to caress your cheek, the softness of her hair a perfect companion to her caring touch.

Having her so close you could count the freckles on the tip of her nose felt as if you had both feet firmly planted on the ground all of a sudden, whiffs of lavender from her shampoo clouding your mind in an exquisite fog that stopped the shaking of your trembling frame. In slow motion the gap between you vanished and the instant her lips landed softly over yours your entire world melted on her tongue, her fingers ripping from your veins the terror that was festering in your blood, with each caress. She didn’t ask for your parted lips to grant her more than what you could give, never begging and never pushing, letting you feel her as deeply as possible, her presence in your mind like a warm bath after a long day, removing your pains and aches as the heat of the water surrounds one’s body. You felt the way you sagged against her touch a little, your hands sliding down to her naked waist as her lips barely separated from yours. Thunder roared all around you but neither of you reacted to the loud rumbling noise, barely audible as your ears filled with the sound of your blood pumping through your veins, throughout your system in rushed beats that fought against your ribcage. Lilia’s fingers never lifted from your skin, not once, as she unbuttoned your shirt, the cotton fabric opening slowly to reveal miles of creamy skin, her doe eyes raking over your figure as if you were the most exquisite thing in the universe. It still caught you by surprise the way her gaze could be so wild, and unabashed when she observed you while also carrying that veil of love and adoration you thought only you felt for her. It was breathtaking to say the least. Inch by inch a sea of alabaster flesh became exposed to the dark of the night, her hands resting over your hips as she took you in, pulling you closer to her until your chests were barely a few inches from each other. The heat of her body surprised you as it radiated of her and collided with your cooler frame, and for a moment you wondered if she had a fever or if she was going to combust in your hands, flames burning and scorching your hands but even then you would never let go. You would be consumed by fire with her for all eternity if that meant remaining by her side.

Finally, skin came into contact with skin, Lilia’s nipples, stiff and slightly enlarged, brushing against your chest as her hands did quick work of your shirt, pushing it from your shoulders until it rested on top of the mattress, your hands having to let go of her for an instant so you could escape the garment. It was torture to not feel her firmly beneath your palms, her softness the most exquisite caviar in the world, rich like brandy, sweet like wine, and so utterly intoxicating that it left you dizzy when she took the chance and pulled you hard against her, your hands flying around her shoulders to stabilise yourself. A gasp had fallen from your lips, sliding down Lilia’s chest and hiding between her breasts almost as if a string of diamonds had graced her flesh, but you hadn’t realised, lost in the way her heart beat beneath her ribs. You could feel it pounding at a steady rhythm, strong, brave, and powerful and with each beat your anxiety vanished a little bit more, your brain understanding for the first time tonight that she was alive, your mind comprehending at last that it all had been a product of your overtired imagination. True, it had hurt more than words could ever explain, the sorrow and despair at seeing Lilia in that position while not being able to do a thing to help her, take her pain away and return to how things were before, slicing through your heart over and over, bleeding inside your chest, the tears that had fallen from your eyes bitter and venomous to the point where you had felt your own flesh decaying and rotting in grief, but it had only been in your head. There hadn’t been blood on the bed, nor screams and pleas for help, no death claiming your love and snatching her and your beloved child from your grasp with a cruel, brutal smile. The remnants of your nightmare were nothing more than a memory of feelings and sensations now that Lilia had worked her magic to vanish the images from your mind, but you knew very well that even though it no longer resided in your head, the feelings would still haunt you, driving you into a minor insanity every night if she wasn’t there to calm it all.

With her in your arms, basking in the heat of her flesh and the puffs of breath that ghosted over your neck as her lips kissed the soft skin, your mind became blank, not a thought in sight. Maybe Lilia was aiding you in forgetting, on living the present and letting go of the past, or maybe it was you who preferred to give yourself to the feeling of her, solid and real, beneath your touch, either way you were grateful that the terror was transforming back into a visceral need to become one with Lilia, the feeling of want clawing its way back to your heart. Your fingers twisted her curls lazily, brushing them away from her naked shoulder as her head moved underneath your jaw, your nails leaving angry marks over her perfect skin as a hiss escaped her mouth and collided with the crook of your neck, vibrations travelling down to your bones. That gifted tongue of hers licked the sensitive skin around your pulse point, savouring the slightly spicy tinges that lingered on your body from your gel and lotion, maddening on her taste buds as her craving for you increased exponentially. The grip you had on her shoulder hardened, nails digging into her skin in an almost in a painful manner, but that didn’t stop her from sucking lightly and drawing out a moan from deep within your chest. Without you even noticing your body pressed harder against hers hoping she would double on her efforts, but it only caused her to stop, her frame shivering as your skin brushed against her breasts, sending a jolt of pleasure and a hint of discomfort down her spine. Her forehead rested against your cheek, pants puffing out of her mouth as she tried her best to control the feelings that overwhelmed and took over her mind for a moment, but you didn’t give her a break. The hands on her waist pushed her away from you until she was sitting in bed staring at you, face flushed, and a questioning look in her beautiful brown eyes. Leaving fiery trails behind your fingers made their way upwards, Lilia’s breath picking up in anticipation until the back of your hand brushed underneath her breasts, her breath hitching in her lungs at the sensation, head lulled back as her fingers wrapped around your wrists to hold herself up. 

She had bewitched you, your mind and body under a spell you would never break, your lower lip between your teeth as you simply watched her. She made no effort to stop you, and as curiosity took over you cupped her bosom in your hands, plump flesh heavy and hot on your palms as they overflowed in between your fingers, clearly too big for your hands. The touch was borderline torture for her but as soon as the pads of your fingertips squeezed gently, aware that they were more sensitive than usual, listening to the way her throat groaned and gasped at the feeling, deep oak orbs hidden behind eyelids as her eyes closed. She could have either cum right there and then from that simple gesture or set herself aflame in a passionate fire, burning from her core all the way to the tip of her toes and top of her head. Her reactions were a little bit stronger than what you were used to hearing from her, after all, you had barely touched her, but the way her lips remained ajar, trying to push air into her lungs as her features contorted in pleasure, you felt your confidence growing and your touch becoming a bit sturdier. Squeezing a bit harder Lilia’s body vibrated at the guttural moan that echoed against the walls, almost as loud as the rain that still banged against the walls and windows of the house, like daggers that tried to pierce through the glass. She was going mad, feeling every wrinkle of your fingers on her skin like electricity coursing through her veins, sparks practically dripping from your hands onto her breasts, but as much as she was loving this, part of her wanted more and since her fingers were still wrapped around your wrists, she pressed your hands closer, squashing her own bosom with your palms. To see her like that, shivering in pleasure and desire as your thumbs caressed the skin, toying and teasing the plump flesh without fully touching her rock-hard nipples made your need for her greater, and without complaint your lips latched onto her completely exposed neck.

Lilia had no other option but to let go of your arms in this new position she had found herself in, writhing on the mattress as your ministrations reached a new fervor, kneading the flesh tenderly as kiss after kiss you mapped the entirety of her neck, from right under her jaw, teethe scrapping the sharp angle to the hollow of her neck, sucking and licking as if your life depended on it. From her rose-petal lips groans and gasps fell continuously, a moan or two escaping and disturbing the train of sounds when your grip on her breasts became a bit harsher, sending a jolt of discomfort and pleasure in a perfect mix down to her core. Not in a single moment did you lose control of your actions or attempt to take things in a more rough direction, knowing perfectly well that now that she was pregnant and well until she was ready after birth you would not engage in something that could hurt her or the baby, both of them your whole world and priority from now on. The world could be on fire, buildings collapsing in a thick dust of smoke, rubble covering the roads and pavement, food scarce and danger hiding in every corner, you would never let them get hurt, going without eating for them, without sleep and putting yourself in harms way so they could be safe. You would take all the things Lilia could not do and carry them for her, on your hands, your arms, on your back until your knees hit the floor, all for her and the baby because you could not fandom a world in which you were alive, and they weren’t. Lips journeyed over her collarbone, reaching her right shoulder first where your mouth pecked each freckle you could see and remember, hands pushing her breasts higher, a strangled cry ripped from her throat at the touch of your thumb over her nipple, at last, placing her hands on your hips to steady herself, pants mixing with the constant rhythm on the rain. Lilia didn’t notice the way your entire weight was beginning to push her back onto the bed, her legs still under the covers feeling the heat radiating from your bare thighs as her back arched slowly, but your lips never left her body, kissing your way to her left shoulder, pecking and licking over her collarbones once more and leaving wet spots behind that cooled Lilia’s scorching skin.

It was utterly intoxicating and addicting to touch her like this. Every twitch and movement of her hips drove you to take her, to nearly give in and simply blow her mind but that was not what you wanted. With one last swipe of your thumbs over her nipples you released her breasts gently, a hiss escaping her parted lips as the heaviness of her bosom returned to her, your hands resting on her ribcage, on the sides of her body, to finish pushing her back on top of the mattress. Her perfect curls were spread on her pillow, wild and framing her flushed face while also being fanned over the silky fabric, and as your eyes raked over her body, positively sublime, all you wanted to do was thread your hands through her hair as you to took her to the heavens. Featherlight touches travelled down the sides of her abdomen, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps behind that had Lilia’s pupils blown wide, no more melted chocolate to bathe your body in, only a pool of lust that had your brain in a haze. Reaching her hips you were met with obstacles in the form of cotton covers and the rest of Lilia’s pearly nightgown and in a rapid but soft motion the blanket released her shapely legs, calves and sculpted thighs picking from the hem of her gown now that there was no barrier tainted with faded flowers. The bedding clung to her perfume, no matter how many times you washed it her essence lingered, overwhelming your senses and fogging up your mind, though you could not find it in you to protest, loving the way the aroma of your beloved wrapped around you and kissed your skin every night when you closed your eyes and every morning when you opened them. With your hands resting on the arch of her feet fingers rubbed circles on her skin, parting her legs slowly so you could kneel in between them, the bed creaking slightly as the weight shifted and you settled yourself before her.

Inch by inch your touch travelled over her shins, bending her legs as your body bent to place a lingering kiss on top of each of her knees, drinking in the feeling of every muscle you could trace with the tips of your fingers, strong underneath your palms while she also remained soft and tender, her every curve a perfect and delicious sight. Lighting struck once more, sharp, perhaps even brighter than the previous ones, filling up the room with white light, a translucent hue of pink bathing Lilia as if she was glowing, her hands holding onto the sheets underneath her as her chest rose and fell rapidly, anticipation and a touch of desperation lacing her every breath. A groan escaped your throat as she was illuminated in the light of the storm, flesh pink, her body nearly naked before you, her eyes simply devouring you, not blinking afraid that she might miss the way your gaze fell on her body as if she was the oxygen you breathed, the water you drank and the food that you ate, as if she was a glass sculpture that needed to be in case, crafted by angels to be forever beautiful, eternally adored. Your palms continued on their journey, the path ahead clear, the roads almost free of obstacles as you reached her thighs, taking the time to move your fingers to the soft skin of her inner thigh, basking the way Lilia’s breath caught on her throat, her knuckles nearly white as her grip became stronger, daydreaming of how your fingers would feel on her, hands and lips everywhere. It was only for a moment, to tease her as a smile made its way to your lips for the first time that night and at the sight she just could not stay still, she needed to see it closer, to feel it against her skin to know that you were alright, that you would be perfectly alright as she held you close in her arms. Taking hold of the nightgown that had bunched up around her hips you pushed it down a little, exposing less than an inch of her hipbone, but Lilia understood the signal perfectly and she lifted her ass off the mattress to let you push the garment down her legs and throw it at the foot of the bed.

Another bout of lightning struck the sky, getting closer and closer as the minutes ticked by, but it meant nothing to you, not when Lilia laid completely bare before you, toned legs and dizzying curves leaving you breathless. Perfection seemed too weak of a word to describe her, her soft body complimenting her nurturing and caring nature in a way that you could not quite understand, hands resting on her bare hips as your body hovered over hers, but your grip on her didn’t last more than a few seconds before Lilia was taking your hands and pulling you to meet her face, your smile never faltering, not for an instant. To keep your full bodyweight from pressing against her your elbows rested on either side of her head, fingers playing with random locks of peppery hair as her hands cradled your face, her touch kind and tender on your cheeks, eyes glued to the way your lips stretched in that soft smile that reassured her just as much as it made you come to terms with it all. Nightmares can’t hurt you; they can’t become truths or make you bleed in despair when reality rests beneath your body looking up at your eyes as if you were an extension of herself, completely enamoured by your looks, by your brain and every single bit that made you, you. She pulled you closer, expecting to feel her lips on yours in an instant but it wasn’t so. Your forehead came to rest over hers in an intimate gesture that you cherished with every fibre of your being, feeling just an ounce of what was going through Lilia’s mind, experiencing what she felt as if you were under her skin, love pouring out of her like a waterfall even if in truth she was barely moving, eyes closed as she breathed in your aroma, engraved deeply in her lungs. All you wanted to do was to stay like this, skin on skin, feeling every inch of her body pressed against yours as if there was no air, no gaps to separate you, the index finger of your right hand tracing the shape of her ear, travelling over her jawline until your palm laid flat on her cheek. If time could stop, if either of you could pause it all, the entire universe, in the blink of an eye, you wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, no rain or thunder compared to the sound of Lilia’s breaths, of feeling her heart beating as if it laid next to yours, her touch tender and kind.

Slowly her head lulled to the side and her lips claimed yours in a kiss that started out as a waltz, sensations controlled, movements delicate against your mouth, but soon it became a tango, passion making its way to her tongue as she traced your lower lips with its tip, begging you to take her, to claim her and who were you to deny her? The heat in the room spiked as tongues battled, your lips parted to grant Lilia entrance, the fire that had burnt steadily in your core now blazing, overtaking your mind for a moment as your hips pressed against hers, feeling just how your actions had affected her. A groan slipped from her mouth to yours, swallowed as thunder crashed almost above your building, loud and cracking, floors shaking as the sound echoed all throughout the city, but your ears could only hear Lilia. Your mouth could only taste Lilia. As you separated after your lungs began to beg for air, an unnecessary commodity, you thought, claiming her mouth once more not a second later, Lilia whimpering now that your hands had let go of her face and rested on her hips, snaking down to her ass. The way her arms wrapped around your shoulders was instinct, keeping you in place and scratching the back of your neck and scalp with her short nails, red streaks left on your alabaster skin. The ball of her feet rubbed your calves as her legs bent around your hips, tempting you to press yourself harder against her centre, but you refrained, wanting to savour her whole body before you could even entertain the thought of tasting her delicious nectar. Parting from her lips, sweet pants brushing your skin as Lilia breathed in rapidly, your mouth followed an invisible line that started at her left cheek, wishing that gorgeous pink blush could leave an imprint on your swollen lips, marking you with her beauty.

Peck after peck the road led you to her jawline, sharp like a knife, your tongue tasting the thin layer of salty perspiration that was beginning to cover her exquisite skin, sparks of electricity colliding with your tastebuds as the gentle licks became harsh kisses, the first stages of a hickey forming right underneath the juncture of her jaw and her neck. She was delicious, a most sublime mix of sweet and salty that left your brain begging for more, craving her and all the sounds that dripped from her lips, thick and velvety as honey and laced with lust. Moans could not describe the way your lips sucked on her pulse point, not the way your hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, the imprint of your hands red on her creamy skin, but there was just no other sound that could make you understand that all the things you were doing to her, as little or as big as they might be, were maddening. No matter how many times you travelled all over her body, from the wrinkles on her forehead to the smooth flesh of her legs, you just couldn’t get enough, mapping her every curve as rivers of pure passion, every beauty mark as unexplored crossroads, her taunt abdomen a vast plateau of bright green grass that swayed in the breeze with splatters of daisies and lavenders. Her thighs were canyons with no end, an abyss in between them that you fell in every time, her breasts mountains that you climbed with your bare hands, tasting the springs of crustal clear water that emanated from them as your mouth latched onto the ample flesh. Every time you made love to Lilia, her cartography changed, adding new landmarks you hadn’t seen before, rewriting others to give them the details they deserved, never ceasing your exploration, never faltering in your ministrations. Trailing down her neck, olive-kissed skin exposed for your eyes only, your lips could not help but kiss and taunt the smooth flesh, getting drunk on her state and the sounds of her gasps each time your teeth scraped her collarbone, or your tongue licked the hollow of her neck.

Making your way to her chest, your mouth had barely kissed the sweel of her right breast when her breath caught on her throat, hands digging onto the back of your head, nails nearly drawing blood. In a string of gentle kisses, your mouth traced the invisible outline of the top of each breast, featherlike touches sending shivers all over Lilia’s body, the crackle of magic loud in the air that floated inside the room, almost matching the way the lightning strikes were slicing through clouds and rain continuously now, thunder approaching and crashing onto the ground fast. Her sternum was just as sensitive, moan after moan coating your ears as you worked, your nails scratching the skin of the back of her thighs hard enough to leave red trails behind but gentle enough that you weren’t hurting her, the stinging pain you were causing with your hands mixing perfectly with the pleasure your mouth was giving her. Snaking underneath her bosom you proceeded to deliver a gentle suck, the skin smooth and hot as your tongue licked it, and in return a sharp intake of air followed by a guttural groan escaped Lilia’s body, her frame shaking in anticipation of what was to come, your mouth tasting the smooth flesh around her nipple in painstakingly slow laps of your tongue. You were sure her nails had dug into your skin, perhaps even drawn a drop or two of blood but that pain was more than welcome by you, her presence and reality confirmed not only by her lingering sweetness on your taste buds, but by her touch of your skin, harsh and yet tender, fingers never faltering as they twirled your hair. Without warning your lips curls around her nipple, sucking gently as your tongue twirled the stiff peak around. A loud cry rained on you, her hand pulling on your hair while at the same time she pushed you closer to her, every nerve ending in her system on fire, melting her and surrendering her completely to your touch, not that she would have denied you her body at any point, her hips buckling against yours in an action-reaction response to the way you were sending sensations all over her body she had never though possible. Her cries only escalated in pitch as one of your hands released her thigh and began to knead on the plump flesh, your mouth never stopping and moving faster and faster to see how much Lilia could take, the feeling of your teeth biting down on her nipple being the limit.

The moan that ripped from her chest held a tinge of hurt and discomfort that you picked up on quickly, and with a tender kiss on the side of it, you moved on to her other breast, her breaths coming in such hurried pants that you wondered for a moment if what you were doing could send her over the edge before you could bury your face in between her legs. You wouldn’t have been wrong. The fire in Lilia’s core was so strong and hot that with each touch, each vibration from your own groans and whimpers her orgasm was being built higher and higher, a skyscraper at this point, and it never slowed down, your mouth delivering each puff of hot breath and each lick of wet saliva as if you had it all calculated. She writhed underneath you, begging with each gasp for you to either take her completely or to send her over the edge already, doubtful of whether she could take much more of you sucking and twirling her nipple in your mouth, each breast as sensitive as every nerve within her. And then you let go. Her hands fell on top of the mattress as she tried to control her breathing, her mind hazy and her sight blurry even if the room was practically filled with light continuously, thunder rushing all around like a bomb, the bed rattling slightly as you kneeled to observe her. That pearly rose tint her flesh had developed throughout the night had moved on to a bright red, small bruises forming on her neck, and the shape of your fingertips on the plump skin of her bosom from where your hand had kneaded the flesh, taking in the way her legs trembles on each side of your hips, breasts bouncing ridiculously fast, almost as if she was fighting hyperventilating. Every sensation coursed through her veins like the wind in a hurricane, sweeping her off her feet and making her float in a haze of pleasure and desire that hadn’t quite reached its breaking point, not that it was too far away, but as your hands caressed the sides of her ribcage all the way to her hips her heartrate began to drop, beat by beat.

There was no control over the storm outside, rain pouring as if it was the end of the world, fast and angry, drowning the ground and filling the air with the sound of each droplet smashing against walls and windows. But as loud as it was it could never overshadow the way Lilia responded to each of your touches, not even now that your mouth had travelled south down the road of her body, stretch marks greeting you as your kisses lingered on her smooth abdomen, small and curvy, perfect witnesses to the beauty of a woman, the thin lines, lighter in the white halo of the storm, wrapping around her hips and vanishing in the juncture between her pelvis and her upper thighs. There would be more as the child grew and Lilia’s body adapted to house it, skin molding to the baby’s every need, and part of you could not wait to see them as your newborn laid nestled on Lilia’s chest, held protectively by her arms, a sign that she had done and survived one of the most dangerous tasks ever laid before a woman: bringing life. Thinking of what was to come, of the risks she was taking made your grip on her hips harder, your forehead resting for a moment on her to simply feel her, steady, the flow of her golden tendrils deep inside her caressing your troubled mind into a calm reassuring sea. Under her skin that sparkle of magic always lingered, called out to you to meet it and mix your own young sage power with it, letting Lilia’s wisdom vanish your doubts when you didn’t think you were good enough, to feel her love in everything she did and was, including this sweet kisses that her powers delivered onto your warm skin, like a warm blanket in the dark of a cold winter’s night, like kisses shared on the doorstep of the shop when you bid Lilia goodbye to go to work. All you needed was to be with her, to hold her in your arms, and then nothing in the entire universe could ever go wrong. As you savoured the way her magic cradled you, her hands tenderly pet your head, her fingers threading between locks of your hair as her breaths became slower, you felt something deep within her.

Pressing your lips on her lower abdomen you were surprised to sense that same spark of magic you had both felt earlier that day floating so strongly underneath her skin and muscles. It was like static at first, a tingling that travelled lazily from within her to your lips, but as the seconds went by it grew stronger, moving onto a bright electricity that held you in place, almost as if it didn’t want you to leave. In a haze your mind filled with the sensation of comfort and safety, golden and silver clouds of dust suspended in a vast black universe, all surrounded suddenly by veils of green, like a nebula that was forming inside Lilia, unique and forever eternally levitating under her heart. It was clearly a mix of you both, colours and branches of magic tenderly dancing around each other, but inside that cosmic explosion of life small streaks of white moved in between each of you, a sign that what you were sensing and seeing was your baby, yours and Lilia’s child happily held by the two of you, content to be able to feel you just as much as you could feel them. You wondered if Lilia could sense it, if perhaps with time she would see the beauty, and if you had lifted your head, even for an instant, you would have seen the way her eyes were closed, sharing that moment with you, stars sparkling, all the futures your baby could have presented to her and yet her mind not wanting to see them. She basked in the way your hands gripped her tighter to you, never wanting to let go, but soon the baby grew tired, too small to remain awake for you to feel, and like a lightbulb it’s light dimed until it laid dormant once again, golden dust cradling white matter as it rested, your own sage particles, wide and full of life, embracing them both, a world of galaxies and stars sparkling before your eyes. Lilia’s body was still affected by your ministrations, but she didn’t push you to meet her needs, cherishing this moment with you even if part of her wanted you to carry on, knowing that you needed this more than she needed to let the coil of pleasure that had built explode and release all the endorphins that had accumulated in your whirlwind of passion.    

Lips met skin, and as you peppered her flesh with kisses, taking in every hum of approval that rumbled in her throat, the corners of her mouth lifting in a kind smile, her hands carried on caressing the back of your head. Slowly you managed to slide lower, her pubic bone and the short grey curls that adorned it brushing and tickling your nose as you planted a kiss over them. Lilia’s breath hitched in her lungs, the calmness that had trickled inside her veins moments ago walking side by side now with the desire you had shared with her, a transfusion of love and pleasure that lazily pumped throughout her system. With your arms underneath her thighs and the palms of your hands pressed against her hip bone your kisses journey to the end of the line, taking the longer route as the smooth skin of her inner thigh laid beneath your kisses, ever so soft, not a blemish or spot in sight, pure as snow and valuable as pearls, platinum melted on your tongue as the storm reached its height, lighting and thunder battling in the sky in an angry tango while Lilia gave her body willingly to you, no questions or expectations ever leaving her lips. Your teeth didn’t hesitate to leave as many marks as you wanted, ruining her perfect creamy skin with each nibble and bite, sucking hard until a purple tone began to spread instead of the angry red, moans vibrating from her chest; all the bruises and hickeys her oversensitive chest and breasts could not take. Satisfied with the impressionist painting you had created on her, your own rendition of the “Water Lilies” made by Monet, each bruise a flower floating in a perfect sea of calm currents that was Lilia’s sublime flesh, you were finally presented with the most beautiful work of art. Pink folds draped in waves before your eyes, glistening with an arousal that nearly dripped down onto the bedsheets, the salty smell of her filling your lungs and overwhelming your senses, your mouth watering at the sight of her so utterly open and ready for you.

With your thumbs circling the skin between her pelvis and her inner thigh, shivers running up her spine, Lilia could not help the breaths that came in hurried puffs as her heart sped up once more, beating hard against her ribcage to a point that she almost feared she might collapse even before you got started and then, all of a sudden, the universe became to a halt. One long lap of your tongue all along her folds, gathering her sweet juices and drinking them in, had her big brown eyes rolling to the back of her head, the gentle grip she had had on your head now hard as she pulled on your hair, a stinging sensation on your scalp that you didn’t mind. Her lips were ajar, letting the most intense and sinful noises fall past them, dripping almost as loudly as the rain hit the windows. You were gifted, a genius that moved your tongue from side to side, up and down, curling and straightening the muscles all over her, her juices sliding down your chin in transparent rivulets that you didn’t have the chance to gather with your tongue. Her legs trembled, muscles quivering as she pushed your face closer to her, and who were you to fight it when you wanted to have her on top of you, beneath you, inside you, and at the same time wrapping her every limb around you, to be with her and part of her, one and the same. Flicking her neglected bud in quick succession for a moment had Lilia arching her back and fighting to lift her hips, your hands pressing her back onto the mattress to keep her still, the heels of her feet digging into your lower back as high-pitched moans and grunts accompanied the ever louder thunder, lightning beaming over her sweaty body like a pearly veil that dressed her in transparent silks, skin glowing, hair sprawled over the pillow in matted mess of curls. She moved her head from side to side as your tongue worked wonders on her clit, completely unafraid of being loud and unapologetic of the way you teased and lapped at her, knowing perfectly well what things she liked and what things she didn’t, opting to abuse those spots that drove her insane.

Rain became hail, loud and so very close to shattering glass as it landed harshly over windows, cars battered under its force out on the streets, matching in strength the way Lilia’s arousal was close to reaching its peak, building higher and higher with each stroke. Your right hand released her hip, sliding under her thigh and coming to touch her hot centre with two fingers, coating them in the arousal your mouth could not take, sliding up and down slowly, teasing almost, to make sure that she was more than ready before parting her folds, that smell that was so characteristic of Lilia, sweet and spicy, citrusy even, enfolded in a cloud of rosemary incense seeping from her every pore. The tips of your fingers entered her carefully, eyes watching over her pubic bone as her head was thrown back over the pillow, chest rising and falling rapidly, fighting through the lust and the desire to fill her lungs with air. She felt your fingers filling her up, inch by inch until you were knuckles deep inside her, the coil in her abdomen almost ready to burst, a tingling sensation spreading through her limbs lazily, like a warning of what was to come, and as you began to move them, slowly at first, she could not believe how diligent you were in your ministrations, the care and work you put on making sure she felt good at all times. It almost brought tears to her eyes. Placing a kiss on her clit your tongue proceeded to return to her folds, fingers picking up their pace, curling slightly until she was nearly screaming, nonsensical noises falling from her parted lips as your ministrations increased. She was so close, you could tell, her arousal dripping all over your hand and chin, velvety walls clenching around you as her legs began to tremble. In a perfect combination of nature and desire you gave one last suck on her clit, grazing the swollen bud with your teeth softly as your fingers went deeper, the tips hitting that spongy spot that released it all. Like a bomb, Lilia arched off the bed, screaming as loudly as the thunder above the shop, lightning eclectically coursing both through the sky and through her every nerve, spreading electricity from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, numbing and at the same time setting every inch of her skin aflame.

Her hips buckled against your hand and face, your tongue lapping and drinking every ounce of her juices that dripped out of her, your fingers never slowing down their pace as she rode out her high, the grip on your hair harsh and strong to the point where you thought she might have pulled a strand or two right out of your scalp. Lilia could not think, could not help but thrush around messing the bedsheets as her orgasm washed over her like ripples on the ocean surface. There was nothing calming about the way the pleasure took hold of her mind, a thick fog clouding her every thought and common sense as starts danced over her eyes, hidden behind closed eyelids. After what seemed to be hours to the both of you, Lilia’s body began to calm down, falling back on top of the mattress, completely spent, as your fingers slowed down to let her adjust to her release. You could have carried on, it would have been easy to bring her to the edge over and over, but this wasn’t a race to see Lilia falling over the edge continuously until she passed out; you weren’t sure why the visceral need to see her come undone beneath you when you could have simply let her hug you and try to fall back asleep, but your mind certainly felt gratitude at seeing her like this before you. Her breaths came in pants, pushing air in gulps into her lungs as she felt your fingers still their movements at last, the trembling of her legs stopping after a moment, the hand that had been resting and holding her in place over her hip bone now caressing gently the skin of her inner thigh, travelling all the way to her knee and back in a rubbing motion. It was comforting to feel you like that, delivering sweet pecks on the skin of her leg as her body finally came down to the land of the leaving, her hands releasing your hair and flopping back on top of the mattress deliciously spent. As her movements stilled you managed to pull out of her, earning a displeased whine from Lilia that made you smile tenderly as her eyes lazily opened up to see darkness once more, the storm having melted into nothing in the matter of a few minutes, rain falling gently against the house as you moved your body over hers, hovering until your face came to meet hers.

Even though there was no more light in the room she could still make out your relaxed face, the way you held her gaze with a semblance of love that embraced her form as much as your hands caressed her cheeks. There were lingering veils of pleasure over her gorgeous eyes, but if you moved past them, chocolate intoxicating your palate along with the taste of her, the world laid bare before you, the answers to every question you had ever had, presented in Lilia’s hands, waiting for the right moment for her to hand them to you. There was no more fear, no more terror that tried to pull you into an abyss of despair, only the memories of her alive under your touch, responsive even now, her tired arms snaking lazily around your back, as you lips tenderly pressed over hers. She didn’t push her tongue more than was necessary, a quiet moan vibrating from her throat as she tasted herself on your lips, not because she didn’t want to return the favours, but because you made no attempt to continue things. You hadn’t even released the way your body had been running partially on adrenaline until you felt a mild ache on your limbs, forcing you to lay on your side beside Lilia, one hand taking hers and intertwining her fingers with yours while the other never left her cheek, her body turning to face you. She could have talked, she could have asked you what had happened, what you needed or if you were alright, but it would have served no purpose. Words were superfluous to either of you right now, unnecessary as shadows hovered and clung to every corner, the early hours of the morning creeping in the horizon, her eyes reading your body language as if you were an open book. A burst of wind could snatch the reassurances that would fall from Lilia’s lips before they reached your ears, leaving you troubled and scared, voices inside your head overshadowing every comforting word until they were barely whispers among your demons. Actions, though, could do what entire books could not.

There was barely a gap between you and her, and never, not even for a moment, did she recoil from you or pull her hands away from yours, feeling the happiness and calmness of your mind. There were no traces of the images that had disturbed you so intensely not that long ago, only the thoughts of her heart beating strong and steady under her ribcage, and her lungs, breathing clouds of warm life that with its tender touches caressed your face, filled you mind with the truths that she was alive under the palms of your hands. Nothing could ever take her from you, and that simple thought would have been more than enough for you, her perfect face holding your loving gaze as the gentle sounds of the rain began to lull you both to sleep, but to have also felt the baby so strongly beneath Lilai’s skin, meeting your kisses with sparks, had caught you off guard, not realising how much you loved it already, nearly as much as you loved Lilia. Your legs were interlaced over the blankets, the hand that was neatly held by yours laying close to Lilia’s chest, the steady beating of her heart a melody so sweet to your ears that you could never get tired of hearing it. Perhaps it was temporary, this happiness that had overcome everything else, but for the time being you were more than content to be able to go to sleep with Lilia in your arms. She pulled you closer to her, the ruffling of the bedsheets filling up the quiet air that floated in the room, and wrapped her arms around your frame as your head nestled on top of her chest, ear glued to her skin in the perfect position to count the way her blood pumped through her veins and each one of her breaths. As the clock on the wall ticked away, Lilia’s perfume filling up your lungs, her fingers caressing the back of your head and the skin between your shoulder blades, the rain became nothing more than a drizzle, silence echoing against the walls after hours of raging sounds, a perfect metaphor for the insanity that had overtaken your mind and the way Lilia had washed it all away. Your eyelids became heavy, the warmth that seeped from her skin enfolding you, and as your body fell into the arms of Morpheus, sleep claiming your tired body once again, Lilia placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head as she wrapped the tousled sheets over the both of you. It would take her a bit longer before sleep claimed her, the last tinges of pleasure still clinging to her skin, but she did not mind, it hadn’t been the first and it wouldn’t be the last time her slumber run away from her but at least this time she had a good reason to remain awake. Moonlight peaked from in between grey clouds, its silvery beams the first steady source of light the city had seen for hours, breaking through the kitchen window as it brought peace woven in between them, Lilia’s eyes never straying from your relaxed face as the pearly rays kissed your skin, her golden magic keeping you safe and protected. Nothing would ever harm you as long as she was round.

[thechaoticcheese]

Aight I'm sick and still on that COD x SPN high so I'm writing something.

Price knows basically everything about his group. He has to. Whether he shares it with Laswell is his business. So when he's out on one of Gaz's first hunts and is needing intel. Gaz goes silent for hours. It freaks Price out as he's trying to figure where the hell Gaz is and what happened to him. Did the unknown monster get him? It curdled Price's stomach at the thought. Until hours later when Price was trying to not let it get to him and focus on what he does know does Gaz just show back up. He isn't disheveled and looked completely fine.

Price gives him a big hug, apologizing right after and asking where the hell Garrick was and why he wasn't answering coms. Gaz says that he was out getting intel about the area and other such from the locals and got a bunch and shared it with Price. Price is skeptical, having dealt with shapeshifters before. He secretly sets up a camera in the hotel room when Gaz is asleep and he would look at it later, provided he was still alive to do so.

Nothing. No gray-yellow glowing eyes, Gaz was clear. He huffed and leaned back in the hotel chair and huffed. Gaz had left early that morning leaving a note that he was gathering more intel, and had looked straight into the camera, as if just knowing Price had set it up. Though the Captain had had enough of this secrecy and went to go find the new Sergeant. He sets out in his truck, glancing at his phone for just a couple of seconds before he looks up to see a long haired german shepherd crossing the street. He hits the breaks but not fast enough as he hears a squeaky yip from the front of his car. Fear courses through Price as he turns on his emergency lights and hops out to see that the dog's leg had been crushed underneath the truck's tire and was whining, but not running as it looked up at Price. Price backed the truck up and goes back out to lift the dog into the back seat of his truck without a second thought, moving it onto a spare blanket he always kept in the back.

Price couldn't dare look at the limp and flat leg of the dog as he started to drive to the nearest place he could park, it being the side of the road a bit further up as he pulls out his phone and starts looking for an emergency vet clinic before he heard movement in the back, causing him to glance up in his review mirror.

"Don't panic." Gaz said as soon as Price's eyes met his through the rearview mirror. There was pain twisted on the younger man's face as bone cracking filled the truck. Price turned fully around to see a mostly naked Gaz, the blanket being draped over his hips and the leg that was healing all too fast for Price's liking.

"I won't if you don' start talking." Price huffed out as his mind whirled.

"I'm... I'm a skinwalker. Always have been. I don't want to get into specifics right now-" Gaz bared his teeth and gasped as his leg snapped back into place before he panted, "Fuckin' hate that... But I'm not like the others. Humans can suck for sure, but that doesn't mean all of them should die."

Price paused as he studied Gaz's movements. He'd been a good hunter since recruitment, giver take Price did just pluck the beginner from the streets in England, but he'd always been loyal to a fault. No questions asked.

"What 'appened to your pack?" Price finally asked.

"Killed." Gaz's throat tightened as the question brought back memories that he slightly shook away.

"So then this is how yu've been gettin' intel?" Price continued his questioning.

"Sometimes. It helps to sneak around as a dog when looking for scent trails. And sometimes real good for gathering information." Gaz replied with a small smile.

"Hmm... Al'ight." Price turned back around before turning on the truck and glancing back at Gaz through the rearview mirror. "No one else knows?"

"No sir."

"Keep it that way."

~~~~~

I do imagine that Ghost and Gaz somewhat have a feeling that each aren't human. There doesn't seem to be much evidence that werewolves and skinwalkers can feel each other's presence like they can with their own kind, but I do feel like they'd just have a sixth sense to when someone ain't human besides their own kind. They don't say a thing about it, knowing that there are monsters on the human's side and would do anything to help them live.

I do imagine that Gaz and Ghost bond over being shifters though once they find out about each other. Mainly the struggles of the small blood lust they get especially when it comes to killing enemies and wanting their heart. Ofc talked about in private and away from Price and Soap to not scare them.