#it might just turn out to be garbage..but…
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Things I drew… ‘:)
Idk which one of the top two look better. Also, I tried to keep them as close to their cannon heights as possible. I happen to be exactly 5’6”(168cm) …(I’m not short okay…) though I don’t know anyone who is 5’(153cm)…I used a measuring tape and a mirror, I think 153cm is right at my nose but… I tried okay…
Also this one is unrelated (kind of) to the top ones. Just made it as well… I might be cooking up an AU…Idk if it will ever see the light of day, but I’ve been having fun with it…
Alright…I disappear again… Any critiques or art help is much appreciated! :]
#I wanted to play around with some logo designs…I think I like what I have so far.#there might be some shipping involved…just a little bit…#I’m not too good with romance X]#this is mainly focused on adventure and politics#idk yet….#we’ll see if it works out…#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#alternate universe#au#fanfiction#fanfic#armin arlert#annie leonhart#armin aot#annie aot#armin x annie#aruani#aruannie#blah blah blah#more tags#it might just turn out to be garbage..but…#fuck it we ball
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
All my Charr so far.
Tidbits on each below the cut!
Renfia Mufflepaw - agender | she/her My Muse's Charr-sona. No real story to this lass. At least, not yet. She could one day develop a backstory out of the blue.
Grody Garbagegut - agender | they/them Grody is in charge of the Garbage Trash Legion [TRSH]. They were made as a joke with friends and now we have a guild 😄. They might gain a backstory and character development one day, I'm very fond of them.
Hyva The Wayward - female | she/her Hyva's my newest Charr and she's Aella and Tharissin's mother. She was a Flame Legion slave, used for entertainment in pit fights and breeding. She had many other cubs that were all taken from her as soon as they were born. She managed to escape with Aella and later gave birth to Tharissin in Dewclaw Village. (I'm still working on her backstory since she's still so new)
Aella Mistfarer - female | she/her Aella is a sellsword and a bane to the Flame Legion. She escaped with her mother, but the Flame Legion would not relent on tracking them down. Aella was done running and turned her fangs on the Flame Legion. Since at a young age, she's been fighting back and turned from hunted to hunter. When Efram came into the picture and there was talk of a new Flame Legion, Aella would hear no part of it. All Flame Legion in her eyes needed to be extinguished. Eventually, she would go into the Mists with groups of adventurers. SHe'd still come back to Tyria from time to time to see how her brother's doing, but other than that she sticks to the Fractals.
Tharissin Forgelock - male | he/him Tharissin is a mute Iron Legion Forgemaster. He's very chill and loves nothing more than to relax under the shade of a tree and fish all day. He's helped the Pact with forging armor and weapons and was recruited during Icebrood to help fight against the Dominion. After Icebrood Saga, Tharissin "retired" and resides in Elona, enjoying the desert sun and fishing on the waters.
Chance the Skritt - female | she/her Chance is a Skritt with coloration inspired by the black-tan fancy mouse. She was found by an Asura named Aezzil while she was a little kit on the shores of Lion's Arch after the fall of the Breachmaker. Since Aezzil couldn't find her scratch and she was too young to remember where she came from, she stayed with Aezzil. She likes adventures, but she's not very brave and often hides in Aezzil's backpack. She borrows thing and forgets to return them and she enjoys collecting little trinkets.
Silana Felfire - female | she/her Silana is just An Ordinary House Cat.
Rex Ghidorah - agender | they/them My kaiju toon based on my favorite kaiju, King Ghidorah
Lykos Iredyne - male | he/him Lykos Iredyne is my spliced Sylvari created by Ardjin. Lykos Iredyne is the final form of Iredyne, who was spliced with his fern hound. His actual appearance is very off-model from his in-game appearance, looking more like a leafy werewolf than a Charr (altho I used the Charr body as a base) ->
Mender Lunaria - female | she/her Lunaria is another spliced experiment of Ardjin's. She was also a Sylvari. She was Solaria's Dearheart and she escaped to find her beloved. Unfortunately, she can't keep a foothold in Tyria as the experiment performed on her causes her to get pulled back into the Mists. In the end, Solaria decided to leave the Pale Reavers so she can join Lunaria in the Mists.
Fish Lich - agender | it\they\him It came from the depths of the Unending Ocean. Its a fish, and a lich. Stinky.
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
antis just really don't seem to understand that meticulously combing through all of someone's online profiles to find "evidence" of perceived crimes or "dirt" on them, even if they do turn out to actually be a bad person, is still cyber-stalking!
You're not a cop, despite how much you might like to think you are! You wouldn't be allowed to follow someone home and dig through their trash to find "evidence" of some crime you think they committed, so why do y'all think it's okay to do essentially that very same thing but online?
#just anti things#anti bs#proship#venting#antis dni#like if I follow a guy home and go through his garbage 'cause I *think* he might be a serial killer I'm *still* stalking him#Yes even if it turns out he *is* actually a serial killer#I would still have been stalking him#someone actually being a bad person doesn't negate the fact you committed a crime#like I don't know what to tell you :/#this goes for the doxxing and the death threats and all that shit as well#you're *still* committing a crime even if the person you're committing it against is a bad person!
330 notes
·
View notes
Text
I just think it’s silly that so many people complain about Villain Amaya as “wasted potential” and that “we were robbed” like-
My pals, post canon fan fiction is right there. The desire to free her husband is right there. Either by touching an evil book while being too eager to remember the obsidian oil, or being possessed by contact (ie what she believes is true loves kiss) when trying to reason with him in the dungeon.
We don’t need a rewrite, we can have a continuation. Both can be true. Amaya is a complex character, she can handle it.
#Wish#Queen Amaya#I assume I'm going to get hate for this but like#I know it's not store bought and you have to still make it yourself but also#I'm kind of just tired of seeing a lot of people sh*tting on Wish because it's not the concept art#And I'm kind of over here like how about we love it recognize it has flaws and THEN try to make something new without bashing the OG?#I just love Amaya and she definitely deserves more#but her good character is so interesting and complex#she still knows how to have fun. She still can be sassy or bite.#Like she's still Magnifico's perfect partner you know? and Magnifico isn't perfect?#A truly pure person wouldn't click with Magnifico the way Amaya does...?#I would rather build on Amaya's character than say she can only be good and boring or a villain?#Amaya is so smart yall. I know you can't see it all just on the movie but like she's read every magic book in Magnifico's library#THOUSANDS OF BOOKS.#And knows basic protection spells#She's a devoted leader.#Like.#Idk#She both loves her husband and recognizes that she has to go against him.#She doesn't /turn/ on him. She addresses his flaws and tells him that it's not okay?#She still jokes with him even though she has to put him in time out. She's complex and strong and wise and kind.#And I just hate seeing so many people so quick to just say 'the concept art was better' when like... the idea might be more appealing to yo#But I hate the level of cynicism and pretentiousness I see of people saying their personal ideas of what Wish should be-#-Is better than the piece of media they claim to care about?#Like their personal vision of Wish based exclusively off the concept art is somehow intellectually superior?#And I'm not saying stop doing your rewrites or AU's or anything! Like there's definitely beautiful creativity happening!#I just hate seeing people so negative and like honestly mean. It hurts my heart to see everyone calling Wish garbage?#It's not great but I really really dont think it's as bad as everyone is saying. Like its no like Oppenheimer but it's a children's movie..#Like I personally love the Teens and Amaya#And everyone saying they stink makes me sad... Because they're just great characters?
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Damn life changed so fast y'all, it's not even funny
But I'm at least existing so that's pretty cool
#god damn bro#i might come back and just chill here#tired of seeing my friends turn out to be pieces of garbage
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking about getting into small plushie making (like little plushies for keychains and stuff) but i think im forgetting the fact that me and sewing are mortal enemies, sworn for a thousand years of hatred
#like OK i wanted to crochet cause i feel like garbage today and i want a lil crochet project to work on#so i started crocheting this little duck cause i think little crochet keychains would be fun#and i was thinking of all the felt stuff i could add as accessories#and now im wondering if a fully fabric mini plushie would look better than a crochet one#idk. might just see how this crochet one turns out
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello
my name is Aya, I am 26 years old, currently living in the northern part of Gaza City, and I am a mother of two children. My oldest is my daughter, Sana'a, who is 5 years old, and my youngest is my son, Wasfi, who is 3.
Since the morning of October 7th, 2023, our lives have been turned upside down. We have lived through the hardest days of our lives, facing displacement and homelessness. We have been forced to leave our home more than ten times since the war began. We would leave without knowing where to go.
We sought refuge in schools and relatives' homes, hoping we could return home and that this nightmare would end. But our house was bombed, and our dreams were destroyed. We became homeless and displaced.
Every day, we wake up to the sound of bombs and rockets. I lived in constant fear and terror with my children, especially when my family's house was bombed while we were taking shelter there.
We are experiencing a real famine in Gaza. I’ve gone to bed with my children many nights without dinner because there is no food available. We have had to eat animal and bird feed due to the high cost of flour just to fill the hunger of my young children. Even after eating it, we all suffered from diarrhea and severe stomach pain. My children developed rashes on their bodies due to the spread of viruses and the accumulation of garbage. There is also a severe shortage of water, and even when we find it, it's not safe to drink.
My children cry, asking for vegetables, fruits, and eggs, but we can’t afford them because we have no income. The gas shortage has forced us to use fire for everything—cooking and baking—using plastic and pipes because firewood is so hard to find.
My children also developed jaundice, and I struggled a lot to get them better because there was no access to vegetables, fruits, or medicine. I even feared that my son might have developed polio because he already had leg problems before the war, and they worsened due to malnutrition.
Winter is coming, and we have nothing for it. I need clothes and shoes for my children to keep them warm, but I can’t buy them because they are so expensive.
For this reason, I beg of you and hope that you can support me, even with the smallest contribution, so I can provide my children with the most basic necessities of life.
I was displaced with my children to my family's house, tears in my eyes. On the way, Salah Al-Din Street was bombed, and the Israeli occupation committed horrific massacres. By the grace of God, we survived for the first time. We lived in terror and fear. A few days later, my family's house was bombed, and we were pulled out from under the rubble, miraculously surviving for the second time.
When my husband heard the news that we had died, he came to bid us farewell, only to find us alive by God's grace. We returned with him, but as the situation worsened and the fire belts in our area increased, we started to flee again and again, not knowing where to go next.
I beg of you to share my story and help me continue to live.
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #230 )✅️
Vetted by butterfly nu #1133
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
Somehow managed to get good hummingbird photos today so that’s a win
#really needed a win after yesterdays garbage shoot#barely saw any birds and got rained on half the time#I was under a footbridge so I didn’t get soaked but I certainly got a little wet#and by the time I saw the eastern bluebird juveniles I’ve been photographing this past month the light was poor and I had to shoot at…#…low shutter speeds so that decreased my success rate by a lot#a lot of people regularly shoot animals at 250-500 which I do not understand bc something like that is a last resort for me#for me I try for at least 1000 ideally higher#you just never know the most subtle movement you might not even see when photographing could make or break your shot#also allows for faster burst#so if I’m going below 1000 I am praying to the photography gods that at least one shot turns out decent#so it just became more stressful than fun
0 notes
Text
i think the worst part of being six months into not dealing with the daily stress i was dealing with for the past 2.5 decades is that it feels like all the awfulness i wasnt feeling due to being in survival mode is now hitting me full force at random
#personal#it turns out when you're stressed out every single day of your life the stress actually dampens how bad you truly feel because#buddy you can actually feel worse!!! LOL#this might also just be a ME ONLY situation because my health is poopy garbage from not being able to go to the doctor until this past dec
0 notes
Text
i love deleting anon asks when they're too cowardly to send hate off anon <3
#if you're just gonna send hate because of my hyperfixations#then get the fuck off of my blog.#i don't want that shit here and i'm not gonna bother with it if you're too much of a pussy to actually send something off anon#if you're gonna be a dick make sure you put it out there that you ARE a dick. don't pretend to be a good person and then turn around and-#-shittalk people on the internet because you're too scared you'll be seen as the awful person you are for bullying people online because-#-they like something#anon hate isn't cute <3#xanrants#kinda#xanchats#sorry i felt like i needed to say this . i don't want hate on my blog !! please and thank you <3#all anon hate asks will in fact be deleted#tbh hate asks might just be deleted in general i'm not dealing with your garbage @ haters
1 note
·
View note
Text
i'll make it fit - rafe cameron
navigation taglist requests
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4
belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!
type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small
word count: 1,8k
summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.
more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist
Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.
You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.
After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.
You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.
Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.
Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.
You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."
“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.
You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.
“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.
“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”
“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.
You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.
"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”
“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.
You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”
“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.
You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.
His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.
“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.
Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"
“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.
Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”
And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.
“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.
You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.
“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"
You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.
“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"
Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.
"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.
Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.
“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.
“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.
“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.
A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
#obx imagine#obx season 4#obx#rafe obx#obx cast#obx4#outer banks#outer banks season 4#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#obx 4#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#obx smut#obx x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
It's really weird when people always use the "it was someone else" excuse only when it's compromising. If I ever do that it's probably because a post was too good for what I expect of myself so I'm like "did i forget logging off somewhere?"
#there's one from waaaaay back many years ago that I did not tag right because i never do that was just...#imagine barely breaching containment for something that isn't even your own#but the funniest thing is that it came in two parts and one of them meant the complete opposite of what intended if taken out of context#and the notes were actually priceless for the good reasons actually because turns out it was so easy to just add extra points and make it#way#more#absurd#and it was really the kind of post where it was almost impossible to figure if people were angry or just playing along but since i never go#any backlash#i guess it was just games#essentially I could almost try to repeat it but given the way i post now the tone might be too obvious#but essentially the post went like#systemic oppression can't happen if you're just nice enough but i can't even replicate the annoying tone it was written like#it was#complete#utter#garbage#but so obvious that for every people trying to rectify there was two adding extra examples of how being nice saved them from situations it#did not#like I'm disabled out of a job in a rather precarious situation because I did not smile enough and my eye contact wasn't maintained 😔
0 notes
Text
it’s wednesday, you know what that means!! here have some snippets of the hangman poem i’m working on!
#it might be garbage but it’s MY garbage#i just hope it turns out well agsjhs i’m still in the rough draft stages#gabbi.think#also yes you can reblog this if you so choose#hangman page
1 note
·
View note
Text
Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
-
The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”
“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”
Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”
“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”
His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”
“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.
“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.
“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”
“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”
“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”
The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).
“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.
“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.
“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”
“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.
“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#eddiesteve#solar wrote#cw child abuse#referenced but does not take place in the fic#cw panic attack#even if it doesn't look like one at first#soft ending though as always I promise
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
필릭스 ─── between heaven and you
⋆。 ˚༘ ♫ turning page - sleeping at last
"ever since you came into my life, you taught me all about unconditional love."
♡ pairing ៸៸ angel!felix x afab!reader genre ៸៸ angst, fluff, smut ៸៸ cw ៸៸ brief mentions of sexual assault, depression, suicide attempts, drug and alcohol abuse, blood, domestic abuse (physical, verbal, and emotional), minho is an asshole (sorry), very much a slowburn (felix is YEARNING.) hyunjin is also in this fic as an angel. smut cw: loss of virginity, slightly inexperienced felix, unprotected p in v, vanilla af tbh ♡ synopsis ៸៸ after watching you struggle for so long, your guardian angel falls for you, and ends up breaking celestial laws just to be in your presence. a/n ๑ i tried a different writing style for this story, it took me about three weeks to finish. this was kind of inspired by felix's unfair mv. the concept of him as an angel suits him so well. i'll put content warnings but please read at your own risk, there will be heavy heavy topics mentioned in this fic. - mostly proofread. [ 17k words ] ㅤ ♡ m.list
felix was there. he was always there, before you even realized it.
life hadn’t been easy for you—that much had been clear for as long as you could remember. your mother walked out of your life when you were only three, and not long after, your father succumbed to liver failure, leaving you orphaned and adrift in a world that seemed designed to crush you. without a family to hold you, to remind you that you mattered, you became just another number in the system, another child shuffled between homes like a piece of lost luggage.
your belongings were carried in a garbage bag, a cruel reminder that you were never meant to stay anywhere long enough to unpack. foster care was supposed to provide a sense of stability, but instead, it felt like a series of cold exchanges, your worth measured in paperwork and stipends.
things took a darker turn when you were placed with your first long-term foster family. at first, you thought the word "long-term" might bring relief—a chance to settle, to belong—but it quickly became a prison sentence. you realized, with bitter clarity, that "long-term" didn’t mean better; it just meant more time to endure. and endure, you did, wishing with every passing day that their home had been just another brief stop on the endless conveyor belt of placements.
the mother was controlling, piling chores onto you to the point where your schoolwork was neglected, causing you to nearly fail your first year of middle school. the father was lazy and critical, spending his evenings in a recliner with a beer in hand, quick to judge but offering no help around the house. unknown to the foster care system or the foster mother, he had a disturbing habit of sneaking into your room at night under the guise of wanting to "cuddle."
it wasn’t until he started trying to undress you that you realized this wasn’t something that was normal between fathers and daughters.
but yet, you stayed silent. afraid of making them angry. you knew it wasn’t right, what he was doing to you, but they were giving you a home. something you had been wishing for for several years. you didn’t want to pass that up just because some gross dude lifted your nightgown for a measly 5 minutes 3 times a week.
you stayed in that home for about 2 years until they got tired of you. finally, you were free from that prison.
however, the weight never stopped piling on top of you, the feelings never stopped rising. you didn’t realize it because you were too young, but remembering what that sick fuck did you was enough to leave you nauseous for a few days. you found yourself stuck in your head, constantly feeling his fingertips grazing your inner thigh, his mouth on yours, still smelling the faint odor of alcohol on his breath.
you hated yourself for letting it slide. for letting him get away with it. you resented yourself for being so fucking afraid all the time. why didn’t you just speak up? why were you so fucking pathetic? the thoughts whirled in your head constantly.
you had no idea that the flood of dark, tormenting thoughts in your mind was the reason felix came into your life. the first time he truly saved you was when you were just 14.
it was late at night, and you were alone in the bathroom you shared with three other foster girls, each of them sleeping in the room just outside. the door was locked, and your back was pressed against it, the cool wood digging into your skin as tears soaked your cheeks. your fingers trembled as they gripped the little pill bottle in your hand, eyes locked on it as your lip quivered, the weight of the moment almost unbearable. you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going.
everything in you was screaming to stop the noise inside your head, to stop the endless thoughts that tore at your mind. but there was one thing you couldn’t escape—your heart was still beating, and no matter how hard you wished for it to stop, it wouldn’t. so, with a quiet curse, you made up your mind. you were done.
the pills felt like stone as they hit your throat, each one a bitter reminder of everything that was falling apart. you gagged, struggled to swallow, but you forced them down, one after another. you locked yourself in that bathroom, barricading yourself from the world, and for what felt like an eternity, you sat there, on the edge of breaking, hoping for something—anything—to stop the pain.
only for a mere moment was the world quiet around you, the kiss of death just barely brushing your lips..
until something strange happened. it was like the very essence of life itself surged through your body, jolting you upright from where you had been slumped on the cold tile floor. the world spun out of control, and your body betrayed you in the most brutal way—it took everything you had to keep yourself upright as you lurched toward the tub. your stomach heaved violently, the contents of your body fighting against the poison you had just forced in.
sweat dripped down your face as you vomited, shaking uncontrollably, your body a hot mess of fear and desperation. it was a moment of raw panic as you realized, in the haze of your disorientation, that you were still alive. the wave of disappointment hit you like a freight train—how could you still be here? how could it not have worked? you wanted nothing more than to disappear in that moment, to fade into nothingness.
but he was always there.
a couple of years passed, and you were adopted by a family who genuinely cared for you. they said they loved you, and you told yourself you loved them too—or at least, you thought you did. but you could never quite tell if your feelings for others were genuine or just surface-level mimicry. you heard their words of love, but you never felt it in the way people described—the flutter in your chest, the warmth in your stomach.
instead, there was only emptiness.
you had a family that cared, hot meals, a safe home. by all accounts, it should have been enough. so why wasn’t it? why did you feel a persistent ache for something more?
high school offered a temporary escape, at least for a while. you had a knack for finding trouble—running with the wrong crowd, skipping class to get high or spend hours making out with whichever guy you were dating at the time. in those moments, everything felt exhilarating. the thrill of breaking rules filled you with a rush, and being with them made you feel whole, even if only briefly.
but when you were alone, the emptiness crept back in.
in solitude, every thought became louder, every feeling sharper, relentless in their assault. the weight of it all was unbearable. whether you realized it or not, you were slowly self-destructing, losing the spark and vitality that once defined you as a child. this wasn’t the gradual "loss of innocence" that comes with growing up—it had been stolen from you. and instead of clinging to what little remained, you shoved it all away, forcing it into a dark, unrelenting void of pain and regret.
the second time felix saved you was when you were 16.
it was a night that seemed like any other, until everything changed in an instant. you and your boyfriend had been at a party, the music loud and the laughter even louder, but the night took a turn the moment you got in the car. he had been drinking heavily. you tried to convince him to let someone else drive, but he insisted, too drunk to even form a coherent argument. you told yourself it would be fine—he was your boyfriend, and he promised he was fine to drive.
but it wasn’t fine.
the crash came so suddenly, you didn't even have time to brace yourself. the screech of tires, the sudden force of the impact—everything spun, and then there was silence.
when you opened your eyes again, the world was a blur, the harsh sound of sirens breaking through the ringing in your ears. your body was heavy, and the pain was overwhelming. you couldn’t move your arm, and it felt like you were sinking into the seat, your head throbbing with every heartbeat. you reached for it, fingers trembling, feeling blood dripping from your hairline.
your trembling hand reached up instinctively, grasping at anything to try and level yourself while twisted in the vehicle, but it ended up brushing against something warm and wet—blood. it was everywhere. at first, you thought it was just yours, but then you looked to your side.
your boyfriend was there, slumped unnaturally in the driver’s seat. his head hung at an angle that made your stomach twist, and his chest didn’t rise. his face, once so familiar and full of life, was pale and lifeless. for a moment, the world stood still as your mind grappled with the impossible reality in front of you.
you called his name, your voice barely more than a croak, but there was no response. the quiet was suffocating. hot tears blurred your vision as panic overtook you. you reached for him, shaking him, begging him to wake up, but it was no use.
the realization hit you like a cold wave, and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t process the weight of it.
at that moment, the pain in your body was nothing compared to the weight in your chest. the boy you thought you’d share so many tomorrows with was gone, and you were left drowning in the wreckage of a life that would never be the same.
it was then that you felt it—the presence of someone, something, familiar but impossible to explain. there was a warmth, a sense of calm in the chaos. the sound of voices in the distance didn’t seem so muffled anymore. you could hear the paramedics, shouting instructions, but you felt... distant, almost like you were floating outside of your own body.
“stay with me,” someone was saying, but it wasn’t the paramedics.
“i’m here. you’re going to be okay,” a deep, yet soft male voice rang. the words weren’t loud, they weren’t even clear, but they were enough to settle you, just enough to make the panic simmer down into something manageable. you had no idea how it got there, but the voice was a tether.
you tried to respond, tried to speak, but your body wasn’t cooperating. the world seemed to shift and swirl again, and then you were in an ambulance, being rushed to the hospital.
the moments after the crash were a blur of bright hospital lights, sterile smells, and the constant beeping of machines around you.
the doctor had placed you into a medically induced coma due to the amount of drugs and alcohol in your system, as well as your severe brain injury. it took some time for your family to arrive at the hospital, but felix stayed with you. he was by your side the whole time you lay there.
later on, your eyelids fluttered open, your lashes brushing against the dryness of your skin, and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the harsh white light above you. blinking slowly, you tried to clear the fog in your mind, forcing your surroundings into focus.
beside your bed, there was a chair. empty. the sight of it hit you like a wave of loneliness. your mind raced. had someone been sitting there? had someone been waiting for you to wake up?
before you could let yourself fall into the quiet despair of it, something caught your eye—a flash of movement. at first, you weren’t sure if it was real or just a trick of your disoriented mind, but there it was again. a figure. a blonde figure dressed all in white, moving swiftly past the door and out of the room.
your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat. it happened so quickly, you didn’t even have time to process it fully. just a flicker of someone in white, someone you couldn’t place, and then they were gone, disappearing down the hallway like a phantom.
you tried to call out, tried to move, but your body refused to cooperate. you were too weak, too broken, too tethered to the machines that kept you alive. who had that been? was it someone you knew?
but before you could think any more about it, the pain returned, sharp and immediate, and all you could do was close your eyes, hoping for a moment of peace. even as your mind raced, as uncertainty flooded you, you couldn’t shake the thoughts, your mind wondering if what you saw was real or just a hallucination from your drugged-up state.
felix spent countless hours studying you, observing the subtle ways you shifted in your sleep, the way your body would tense when you were about to face the next wave of agony. he wasn’t supposed to be so emotionally attached, not in the way he found himself. angels were meant to be impartial, neutral—protective, but not emotionally involved. and yet, as time went on, felix found himself more and more drawn to you, his gaze lingering longer than necessary, his thoughts turning to you even when he wasn’t near. it was a kind of fascination, but it was also something deeper, something he hadn’t experienced before.
it always pained felix to watch you struggle. it was his job, of course, as your guardian angel, but that didn’t necessarily mean he liked it. his role was simple, or so it was supposed to be—guide, protect, watch over you—but there were moments when it felt like a weight he could barely carry. watching you hurt, seeing the toll life had taken on you, it gnawed at him in ways he couldn’t quite explain. it wasn’t just about keeping you safe; it was about witnessing your inner turmoil, the pain you couldn’t escape, and knowing he could never truly take it away. he could intervene, sure, but only so much.
he became fond of you. at first, it was a quiet awareness—a soft sadness in his chest when he saw your tears, a feeling of helplessness when he couldn’t stop you from making the same painful decisions over and over again. but it grew. he watched how you pushed through your struggles, how you fought to keep living despite everything that weighed you down. there was a quiet strength in you, an undeniable resilience that made him both proud and heartsick.
sometimes, when you were at your lowest, felix would find himself feeling your pain. it wasn’t just an awareness, it was a visceral ache that seemed to pulse through him as if your suffering was his own. and that was strange. he wasn’t supposed to feel anything—least of all the sharp, gut-wrenching pain that you carried with you. angels were above human emotion; they were supposed to observe, not participate. but there it was. he would feel your despair, the weight of your grief, the crushing exhaustion in your heart as if it were his own.
he’d try to push it away, to block it out, but it lingered. it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
after the accident, he had watched you slip into that coma, felt the void of your absence, and during the time you were unconscious, it was like a part of him had gone with you. the pain he felt as you fought to survive, the pull of your fragile life, had him teetering on the edge of something unfamiliar. he wasn’t supposed to care this much. he wasn’t supposed to let himself be moved by your suffering. but he was. and it terrified him.
felix could barely stand it. he was so close, so close to you, but always just out of reach. he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t make you understand that he was there. he had to stay hidden, an invisible force in the shadows. it was one of the many rules he was tasked to follow.
but he was there. and he was watching, as he always did. every time you moved, every time you cried out, his heart cracked just a little more. there were moments when he wished he could reach out, hold you, tell you it would be okay. but he couldn’t. his purpose was to guide you, not to console you the way a person could. and yet, he longed to.
it was strange. it was almost as if, in trying to save you from the darkness, he was losing himself in the process.
he was supposed to help you without complications. but oh boy, did it become complicated.
“why do you seem down?” hyunjin asked felix, his shoes clacking against the marble floor of felix’s room. felix lay on his sofa, deep in thought. it took him a few seconds to finally answer. “she’s not doing well again,” he said lowly, the sound of sadness apparent in his tone. hyunjin walked over and sat next to him, letting out a soft sigh. “the same stuff?” he asked, referring to your depression.
felix just hummed in response and nodded, laying his head back down as he stared off into space. “i can't do anything to help her.” he muttered eventually, disappointment in his tone.
hyunjin studied felix quietly, his own expression a mixture of concern and confusion. angels weren’t supposed to form such deep attachments. they were guides, protectors—meant to observe and intervene only when absolutely necessary. but felix... felix was different.
"you care about her more than any angel i’ve ever seen care for their human," hyunjin said softly, his voice tinged with a cautious curiosity. "it’s not... wrong, exactly, but it’s not normal either."
felix didn’t respond right away. his gaze was distant, locked somewhere far beyond the room they were in. finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper."she’s been through so much, hyunjin. more than anyone should ever have to endure. and she keeps going, even when it feels like the world is crushing her. but it’s wearing her down. i can see it in her eyes, hear it in her thoughts."
hyunjin frowned, leaning back on the sofa. "you’ve saved her before. more than once. isn’t that enough? isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? intervene when necessary and then... let go?"
felix sat up abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "let go? how can i let go when every time i turn my back, she’s falling deeper into the darkness? i can feel her pain, hyunjin. it’s like it’s… carved into my being."
hyunjin tilted his head, watching his friend carefully. "you’re more human than you think, felix," he said quietly, almost to himself.
felix’s head snapped toward him, his expression a mix of surprise and defiance. "what’s that supposed to mean?"
"it means," hyunjin continued calmly, "that maybe you care so deeply because you understand her in a way most angels don’t. you don’t just see her struggles—you feel them. that connection... it’s rare, felix. but it’s also dangerous."
felix looked away, his jaw tightening. he knew hyunjin was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. "i just want her to be happy," he said finally, his voice breaking slightly. "i don’t care if it’s dangerous or rare or whatever else you want to call it. i just can’t stand to see her like this."
hyunjin reached out, placing a hand on felix’s shoulder. "maybe it’s time to think about what she really needs. sometimes, saving someone doesn’t mean fixing everything for them. it means being there, quietly, in the background, until they find their own strength."
felix sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of hyunjin’s words. he didn’t know if he could do that—if he could stand by and watch you struggle, hoping you’d pull through on your own. he had been waiting several years for this, for you to come to, for you to get better. it didn’t seem achievable because of how much you were obviously hurting still.
but deep down, he knew hyunjin had a point.
all he could do was stay close and hope his presence, even unseen, would make a difference.
a few more months passed, and felix found himself at his breaking point. watching you spiral further into despair was more than he could bear. he had always been bound by the sacred rules of his kind. yet, with every passing day, those rules felt like chains, holding him back from giving you the comfort and hope you so desperately needed.
he began to push the boundaries, leaving subtle signs of his presence. a faint warmth brushing your skin during your loneliest nights, the sudden scent of vanilla randomly wafting through your room–his signature scent.. or the soft flutter of a breeze indoors when no windows were open. felix hoped these tiny gestures would remind you that you weren’t alone, that someone was watching over you. sometimes you’d swear you’d wake up in the middle of the night, feeling eyes on you in your bedroom.
but he knew he was treading dangerous ground. revealing himself to the living, even indirectly, was a direct violation of celestial law. angels were forbidden from crossing into the mortal plane unless absolutely necessary—and certainly not for personal reasons. every time he bent the rules, felix felt the weight of disapproval from the higher realms, but he didn’t care.
all he cared about was you.
eventually, felix realized that his subtle gestures weren’t enough to ease your suffering. the flickers of warmth, the faint scents, and the soft breezes weren’t making the impact he hoped for. so, he made the decision to go further, breaking the rules more boldly than ever before.
what started as occasional visits to watch over you as you slept turned into a nightly ritual. every night, without fail, felix would enter your room, his presence unseen, and settle himself beside you on the bed. he would sit propped against the headboard, his fingers brushing gently through your hair in soothing strokes. this was the only time he saw you truly at peace—your expression free of the sadness that weighed you down during your waking hours. your mind was finally quiet, your face soft and serene, and seeing you like this brought felix a strange sense of solace.
he didn’t feel out of place lying beside you. on the contrary, it comforted him to know that, even if you couldn’t feel his presence, he was there for you during your most vulnerable moments. but simply being there wasn’t enough for him. he wanted you to know you weren’t alone, even if you didn’t understand the source.
so, he started leaving a single white rose in your apartment, always in a spot he knew you’d notice. the first time you found one, you panicked. your thoughts immediately jumped to the idea of a stalker. it would explain the strange sensation you sometimes felt while sleeping, as though someone was watching over you. but no one had a key to your apartment, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced a spare. there were no signs of forced entry, no broken locks or jimmied windows. and living on the tenth floor of a building without a balcony made the idea of anyone sneaking in seem impossible.
yet, every wednesday, like clockwork, the roses appeared. each time you came home from work, you found one waiting for you—sometimes placed carefully on your pillow, other times resting on the kitchen counter where you always dropped your keys.
the mystery of the roses consumed your thoughts. you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched, but at the same time, something about the gesture felt... kind. even as the fear lingered, you couldn’t deny the strange comfort the flowers brought, like a small, silent promise that someone cared.
you’d sit for hours, turning the possibilities over and over in your mind, desperate for an explanation. the only theory that felt remotely plausible was that it might be a deceased family member—perhaps your father—reaching out to you from beyond. maybe he was watching over you, leaving these gifts as a sign of his presence.
but even that felt like a stretch. you’d never been one to believe in the supernatural. ghosts, spirits, angels—it all seemed too far-fetched. yet, the roses told a different story. they appeared in your locked apartment without any logical explanation, and the sheer impossibility of it all began to chip away at your skepticism.
the more you thought about it, the more your disbelief wavered. you still couldn’t bring yourself to fully accept the idea of something otherworldly, but a small part of you began to wonder: what if there was more to this world than you’d always believed?
it wasn’t until a little later into your adulthood that felix fell for you. he fell for you in a way that was more than he ever thought possible, a deep, unshakable kind of love that bloomed quietly in the recesses of his heart. it wasn’t sudden—it was a slow, inevitable tide, creeping up on him as he spent day after day watching over you, silently observing the subtle shifts in your life, the quiet struggles you faced, and the moments of fleeting joy that seemed to light up your world in spite of it all.
the more he watched you, the more deeply he felt connected to you. he could see the way you smiled when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes shimmered with a mix of hope and pain, and how you carried your burdens with such quiet strength. he admired your resilience, but it tore at him too. each time he saw you frown in frustration or collapse into exhaustion after a long day, it felt like a jagged piece of glass scraping against his soul. the desire to be close to you—to be there for you—burned inside him like wildfire, something so powerful and raw, he couldn’t contain it.
felix found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain. he watched you laugh with your friends, saw you comfort a stranger, witnessed the quiet moments when you thought no one cared. and in every one of those moments, his heart ached. it ached because he longed to be the one to make you smile, to ease the weight on your shoulders, to tell you that he understood in ways no one else could. he wanted to be the one who held you when the world felt too heavy, who whispered comforting words when you couldn’t find any of your own.
he wanted—no, needed—to talk to you. to introduce himself, to somehow, impossibly, let you know that he knew you better than anyone else ever could. he knew your scars, your fears, your dreams. he had watched you grow, silently and from a distance, always just out of reach. and every part of him screamed to speak, to tell you everything he had seen and felt as he quietly admired the person you had become. every thought he had about you, every observation, every small detail, every fleeting moment, was carved into his soul.
but as much as he wanted that, he knew he couldn’t. he wasn’t supposed to be here, to be seen by you. he was bound by laws that held him away, that kept him a silent observer, a watcher in the dark. his love for you—his desperate, consuming love for you—was forbidden. and yet, it consumed him more than anything else. he ached with the overwhelming need to be near you, to somehow make you feel what he felt, to break the invisible barrier that kept him at arm’s length.
felix would continue to visit at night, his form hidden in the shadows of your room, listening to your breathing, watching your peaceful face as you slept. he would run his fingers through your hair, wishing he could tell you everything. he would hold his breath, praying you would stir, that maybe, just maybe, you would feel him there, his presence lingering like a soft touch, a whispered promise. the thought that you might never know how deeply he loved you—it was unbearable.
felix wanted so badly to be noticed, to have you turn and see him. he wanted you to know, not just that he existed, but that he had been there all along, watching over you, loving you from afar. he wasn’t some fleeting presence, some passing moment. he was here. he had always been here. and all he wanted was for you to know that.
god, he loved you so fucking much. in a way that was all-consuming, in a way that made every moment of separation feel like a quiet ache in the deepest parts of him. he loved you in a way that was both impossible and undeniable. and it terrified him, because he knew he could never have you—not truly. he could only watch. and in doing so, he was bound by something even greater than the laws that kept him from you. he was bound by the love he could never express, the feelings he could never act upon.
and that was the cruelest part of it all—he loved you more than anything, but he could never truly have you.
felix leaned against the door of his home in the astral plane, his body feeling as though it was made of stone, weighed down by the crushing pressure of what had just transpired. his mind was a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts, still reeling from the conversation he had mere moments ago. the higher realms had caught on to his increasingly reckless behavior. he had always known there would be consequences, but hearing the words from the voices of the celestial council made the reality of it all hit him like a bolt of lightning.
a warning, they had said. a warning that if he continued this way—if he kept breaking laws, bending the rules, and daring to reveal himself to the mortal world—he would be cast out. disowned. stripped of everything he had ever known. his immortality would be taken from him, and the wings that had always been a part of him, the wings that had given him his identity, would be severed. he would be cast into the human world, forced to live among those he had been forbidden to touch, to exist as one of them—fragile, finite, and utterly alone.
felix’s chest tightened as the weight of their decree settled over him. he was horrified, and in the pit of his stomach, he felt a deep, aching sense of loss. the thought of being cast down, of losing the eternity that had once defined him, gnawed at him. he had existed for so long in the celestial realms, watching over worlds, knowing his place, and now that place felt as though it was slipping away from him, just as quickly as his heart had fallen for you.
he didn’t want to stop seeing you. he didn’t want to stop visiting you, to stop offering you the comfort he could give from the shadows. the mere thought of no longer being able to watch you, no longer being able to quietly support you from the distance he had grown to cherish, felt like an ache so deep, it was like his very soul had been torn in two.
but at the same time, felix was terrified. terrified of what it would mean if he allowed himself to follow this path, if he let his emotions run wild, if he dared to embrace this connection he had with you. to lose his place among the celestial beings, to lose the very essence of who he was, the very reason he existed—it was too much to bear.
he closed his eyes, gripping the edge of the door as though it might anchor him in the reality he so desperately wanted to hold onto. his heart raced, torn between two worlds—his love for you, and the celestial duty that had once defined his every action. the love he felt for you was dangerous, forbidden, but it was real. the kind of love that carved deep into his chest, raw and desperate, a love that made him question everything he had ever known about his purpose. but was it worth losing everything? was it worth abandoning the very thing that had given his life meaning—his immortality, his place among the divine?
felix didn’t know. he didn’t know if he could make that choice.
all he knew was that the fear of losing you—of being cast away, disowned—was as terrifying as the thought of losing himself.
felix found a small measure of peace when you started dating someone—a coworker named minho. though it pained him to see you with someone else, the thought of minho being there for you when felix couldn’t brought him some comfort. from what felix observed, minho was kind and attentive, and that was enough to keep felix at ease, even if it hurt to stay in the background.
still, felix couldn’t bring himself to leave entirely. he continued to watch over you, always vigilant, ensuring that minho treated you the way you deserved.
but something shifted in your world, something that didn’t escape your notice. once minho entered your life, the roses stopped appearing in your apartment. at first, you didn’t think much of it, but as the weeks went by without a single flower, a strange pang of disappointment settled in your chest.
you hadn’t realized how much you’d grown attached to the mysterious gifts until they were gone. you had even gone out of your way to display them in a vase, replacing the wilted roses with fresh ones every week, as if honoring the unseen hand that left them. the absence felt odd, almost unsettling.
it didn’t take long for the thought to creep back into your mind: what if it really had been a stalker? but you dismissed it just as quickly as it came. there were no signs of forced entry, no evidence to support the idea. and besides, minho was with you now. if something truly dangerous were happening, surely he would have noticed too.
still, the timing nagged at you. the roses had stopped the moment minho came into your life. was it just a coincidence, or was there more to it? you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d lost something special—something silent and unseen, but deeply meaningful.
as your relationship with minho deepened, felix began to notice troubling changes in his behavior. at first, it was subtle—offhand remarks about the way you did things or minor criticisms disguised as jokes. but over time, those comments grew sharper, more frequent, and far harder to ignore. minho started nitpicking every little thing you did, blaming you for even the smallest mistakes, and turning minor missteps into significant issues.
it didn’t take long for felix to piece together the truth: minho was a narcissist, and worse, an abusive one. his behavior escalated rapidly. the once seemingly harmless complaints turned into outright yelling. he began getting in your face during arguments, his voice laced with venom, his demeanor intimidating. felix watched helplessly as minho’s anger grew darker, his threats becoming more pointed.
the shift terrified felix. there were moments when minho’s fury burned so hot that felix feared he might follow through on his threats. each time minho’s hand twitched or his voice reached a dangerous pitch, felix braced himself, sick with worry that this time, it wouldn’t stop at words.
countless nights, felix lingered nearby, his unseen presence heavy with fear and frustration. the thought of you being seriously hurt haunted him. despite his duty to remain in the background, every fiber of his being screamed to intervene, to shield you from the storm brewing in your own home.
as your relationship with minho continued and his behavior spiraled further into toxicity, you began to notice something strange: the inexplicable occurrences in your apartment had returned. the faint, sweet scent of vanilla began lingering in the air once more, subtle yet unmistakable. it crept into your senses at odd times, reminding you of a feeling you hadn’t experienced in months.
even more unsettling was the distinct sensation of being watched while you slept—something you’d felt before but had long since faded when minho entered your life. it was subtle at first, a gentle prickling at the back of your neck or the softest shift in the room’s energy. unlike most people, who might have been terrified by the idea of an unseen presence in their home, you felt an odd sense of comfort.
this wasn’t the unease of being stalked or the fear of danger. it was familiar, almost nostalgic, as though the presence itself carried a quiet reassurance. it reminded you of nights when you used to feel a strange sort of peace in your solitude, a solace that had seemed to vanish when minho came into your life.
you came home late wednesday night to find minho sitting at the kitchen island, his posture rigid and his expression already clouded with annoyance and barely concealed anger. you sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for yet another confrontation and wondering what you could have possibly done this time to provoke his ire.
before you could speak, your eyes fell on the white rose lying on the counter in front of him. your breath hitched, and your heartbeat quickened as unease settled deep in your chest. you had a feeling you knew exactly where this was going, but you forced yourself to play dumb, hoping to defuse whatever storm was brewing.
“what’s that?” you asked cautiously, your gaze darting between the rose and minho’s piercing glare.
he let out a humorless chuckle and lifted his head to meet your eyes. “you’re asking me?” he said, his voice calm but laced with an edge that sent chills down your spine.
you swallowed hard, struggling to steady your hands as you fidgeted with your fingers. “i don’t know. i didn’t—”
“come on, y/n,” he interrupted, his tone dripping with condescension. “i’m not stupid. i didn’t give this to you, so who did?” his voice was eerily calm, but his expression betrayed his barely contained fury, which was far more unsettling than when he was openly yelling.
“i-i don’t know, i swear,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you searched his face for any sign of reason.
minho’s jaw tightened, and his fist slammed against the counter, the sharp sound making you flinch. he stood abruptly, towering over you as his eyes narrowed. “bullshit. you got it from a guy. who is he? do i know him?”
“no, minho! i haven’t talked to any guys today!” you cried, your voice rising in desperation as your body began to shake.
“you’re lying,” he hissed, his gaze unwavering and his presence suffocating. he reached for the rose, running his fingers along the delicate petals as though mocking its fragility.
“i’m not,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
minho studied you for a moment, the silence stretching into something unbearable. then, with a sudden burst of violence, he clenched the rose in his fist, ripping the petals from the stem and scattering them across the counter. “clean this shit up. i don’t want to see any more flowers around here,” he snarled before shoving past you and storming toward the hallway.
something inside you snapped. “no,” you said firmly, the word escaping your lips before you could stop yourself.
minho froze mid-step, turning slowly to face you with a mixture of shock and fury. “what did you just say?” he asked, his tone low and dangerous.
“i said no,” you repeated, your voice steady despite the fear twisting in your stomach. you stood your ground, glaring at him with a defiance you didn’t know you possessed.
his surprise faded quickly, replaced by a dark, menacing rage. in an instant, he closed the distance between you, raising his hand and striking you across the face. the sharp sound of the slap echoed through the room, and the sting of his palm seared into your cheek.
before you could even process the pain, a loud crash shattered the tense silence. both of you turned toward the counter, where shards of glass from the vase that once held your white roses lay scattered. the vase had shattered violently, though neither you nor minho had touched it, and you were both too far away for it to have been accidental.
minho stared at the broken glass, his face contorting in confusion and unease. for the first time, you saw a flicker of something unfamiliar in his eyes—fear. and for a brief moment, it felt like the air in the room had shifted, heavy with something unexplainable, something beyond either of your control.
“get the fuck out,” you spat, your voice trembling with both rage and sorrow as you shoved minho away from you. your lip quivered, and your heart pounded in your chest. he stumbled backward, his usual composure shattered as he stammered, trying to piece together words to defend himself.
“out!” you screamed, your voice breaking as tears began streaming uncontrollably down your face. you clutched your stinging cheek with one hand, the pain of his slap mingling with the ache in your chest.
minho hesitated, his face flickering with disbelief and hesitation, but eventually, he relented. grumbling under his breath, he grabbed his things and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through your apartment.
the silence that followed was suffocating, oppressive in its stillness. you stood frozen for a moment, staring at the broken glass scattered across your kitchen floor. your legs gave out beneath you, and you plopped onto the cold tile, your back pressed against the refrigerator as a sob wracked through your body.
you cried harder than you had in months, your tears falling freely as every ounce of frustration, anger, and pain came pouring out. you were furious—with minho, with yourself, with the cycle you seemed unable to break. why had you let it get this far? why did you allow another man to mistreat you, just because you were terrified of being alone again?
the realization cut deeply, leaving you raw and exposed. you told yourself then and there that you were done. done with minho, done with letting people like him have power over you. and this time, you meant it.
true to your resolve, minho didn’t bother you again. after a week of silence, it was clear that he wasn’t coming back, and for that, you were relieved. but relief didn’t erase the damage he had done.
in the aftermath of the breakup, you found yourself slipping back into the darkness you thought you had left behind. nights were the hardest. some, you spent curled up in bed, crying until exhaustion finally claimed you. others, you lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling as the all-too-familiar numbness crept over you, settling into your chest like an unwelcome guest.
the emptiness was back, deeper and more consuming than ever. it felt like your heart was a hollow shell, incapable of feeling anything but the ache of its own vacancy. and as the days blurred into weeks, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you were destined for—cycles of pain, brief reprieves, and an ever-present void you could never seem to fill.
one night, as you drifted off to sleep, your dream took an unusual turn. in the depths of slumber, you saw flashes of golden blonde hair and a face so captivating it felt almost otherworldly. he had plump, soft lips, a delicate button nose, and a constellation of freckles scattered across his skin. his presence was magnetic, his beauty striking yet gentle.
at first, the dream was fleeting—a quick glimpse of him before the scene shifted into the usual randomness of your subconscious. but as the nights went on, he began appearing more frequently. his visits weren’t long, just brief moments where you saw his face, a sense of comfort and calm washing over you before he would vanish again into the recesses of your mind.
though you never spoke to him, you could feel him there. his presence was undeniable, and oddly familiar, as though you knew him from somewhere. the more you dreamed of him, the more he felt like a guardian, someone watching over you from the shadows.
what you didn’t realize was that this wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. it was felix. after weeks of struggling to find ways to be closer to you without breaking the celestial rules, he decided to take a different approach.
he was hesitant at first, unsure if entering your dreams would be too bold, too much of a risk. but he couldn’t stay away. the idea of reaching you in this subtle, intangible way felt like the perfect compromise—a chance to be near you without disrupting the delicate balance of your reality.
so, he appeared to you in fragments, carefully choosing each moment. the dreams were his way of offering comfort, a gentle reminder of his presence, even if you couldn’t fully understand what it meant yet. to felix, it was enough to know he was there for you, even if only in the quiet hours of the night.
the dream started like many others—hazy and indistinct, with colors blending together in a soft, swirling mist. you were standing in a field bathed in moonlight, the grass cool beneath your bare feet. a gentle breeze carried the scent of vanilla, a fragrance that had lingered faintly in your waking hours.
and then, you saw him.
he emerged from the mist like a figure out of a painting, his golden hair glowing faintly in the silver light. his face, with its constellation of freckles and gentle, piercing eyes, was heartbreakingly beautiful. he stopped a few paces away, his gaze locked on yours. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken—something familiar yet strange.
"who are you?" you asked finally, your voice trembling as if afraid to break the spell. his lips curled into a soft smile, and he tilted his head slightly. "you already know me," he said, his voice like a melody, soothing and warm. your brows knitted together, confusion flickering across your face. "i don’t think i do."
"you’ve felt me," he said gently, taking a cautious step closer. "in the quiet moments. when you’ve been at your lowest. i’ve been there." the realization hit you like a wave, a shiver running down your spine. "the roses..."
he nodded, his expression tender yet tinged with sadness. "i didn’t mean to frighten you. i only wanted you to know you weren’t alone."
"but why? why me?" you whispered, a lump forming in your throat.
his gaze softened further, and he crouched slightly to meet your eyes more closely. "because i care about you more than you’ll ever know. i’ve watched over you, protected you, even when you didn’t know i was there."
your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. "are you... an angel?"
felix hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "yes. and breaking every rule to talk to you like this."
"why now?"
"because i can’t bear to see you in pain anymore," he admitted, his voice cracking just slightly. "you’ve been through so much, and i... i couldn’t stay silent any longer."
tears welled in your eyes as you took a step closer, your hand reaching out instinctively. he didn’t pull away, but you hesitated, your fingers hovering just above his. "this doesn’t feel real," you murmured.
"but it is," he assured you, his voice firm yet gentle. "i’ll be here as long as you need me, whether you see me or not."
the dream began to blur around the edges, the mist creeping back in. "wait," you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation. "will i see you again?"
felix smiled softly, his golden hair shimmering in the fading light. "always."
and then he was gone, leaving only his signature scent and the lingering warmth of his presence behind as you woke, tears still fresh on your cheeks.
“you did what?” hyunjin asked felix, surprise evident on his expression. felix bit the inside of his cheek before he quietly repeated himself. “i.. visited her in her dream.” he mumbled.
hyunjin stared at felix, his eyes wide as he leaned against the railing of their astral plane. the soft glow of their surroundings illuminated the disbelief on his face. "you visited her in her dream," he repeated slowly, as if trying to process the gravity of felix's words.
felix nodded, looking away. "i couldn’t just watch her suffer anymore. she needed to know she wasn’t alone."
hyunjin ran a hand through his dark hair, letting out a sharp exhale. "do you have any idea how reckless that was? visiting the living in their dreams might not be as bad as full manifestation, but it’s still breaking the rules."
felix’s gaze hardened, his usual softness replaced with a rare defiance. "i don’t care about the rules anymore, hyunjin. they don’t help her. she’s falling apart, and i can’t just stand by and do nothing."
hyunjin crossed his arms, his expression shifting from surprise to concern. "i get it, felix, i do. but you’ve been walking a thin line for a while now. leaving roses, lingering in her presence... do you really think the higher-ups won’t notice?"
felix clenched his fists at his sides. "let them notice. let them punish me if they want. but i won’t regret it. not for her."
hyunjin softened at felix's conviction, his features losing their edge. "you really care about her, don’t you?"
felix’s eyes glistened as he nodded. "more than anything. she’s been through so much, hyunjin. no one deserves that kind of pain. if i can be the one thing that brings her some comfort, i’ll take any punishment that comes my way."
hyunjin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "you’re not going to stop, are you?"
"no," felix said firmly, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.
there was a moment of silence as hyunjin studied his friend, his lips pressed into a thin line. finally, he relented with a small shake of his head. "alright. if you’re going to keep doing this, at least let me help you cover your tracks. if they find out what you’re doing, it won’t just be a slap on the wrist, felix. it’ll be exile—or worse."
felix’s eyes widened in surprise, gratitude quickly replacing the shock. "hyunjin, you don’t have to—"
"i know i don’t have to," hyunjin interrupted, his tone sharp. "but you’re my friend, and i’m not about to let you face this alone."
felix smiled faintly, the weight on his shoulders feeling just a little lighter. "thank you."
hyunjin sighed again, this time with a hint of exasperation. "don’t thank me yet. i’m not sure what kind of mess we’re getting into, but i have a feeling it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better."
felix’s smile didn’t waver. "it’ll be worth it."
hyunjin shook his head with a wry smile, muttering under his breath. "you’re hopeless."
but despite his grumbling, he didn’t leave felix’s side. if felix was going to fight for you, hyunjin would make sure he didn’t do it alone.
the dreams for the next few nights unfolded as they always had—flickers of unspoken moments and hazy images that faded like sand slipping through your fingers. but this night was different.
the air around you shifted as the dream took form. you were no longer in a familiar place but somewhere entirely foreign and breathtaking. marble floors stretched endlessly beneath your bare feet, their white, polished surface reflecting soft, golden light from above. the room seemed to glow, not harshly, but with a serene brightness that made you feel weightless.
and then there was the scent—vanilla, rich and warm, filling the air like an embrace. it washed over you, soothing every frayed nerve and quieting the lingering chaos in your mind.
before you could fully process the setting, he appeared.
felix stepped out of the light as though it had created him, his form entirely whole this time. his white tunic draped elegantly over his lean frame, the fabric flowing as if it were alive. his blonde hair, wavy and radiant, seemed to catch the ambient glow, each strand moving with an ethereal lightness. but it was his face—those delicate features, framed by a constellation of freckles, and eyes that held galaxies—that truly caught your breath.
you couldn’t look away.
the space between you and felix was vast, yet he began to close the distance, his steps slow and deliberate, as though each one was meant to reassure you. his gaze, warm and unwavering, never left yours.
your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a mix of confusion, awe, and an unexplainable comfort. "you’re back," you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a strange relief.
felix’s lips curved into a gentle smile, and as he stopped a few feet away, his presence felt like the missing piece of a puzzle you hadn’t realized you were trying to solve.
"i promised i would be," he said softly, his voice carrying the same calming warmth as the vanilla in the air.
the marble beneath your feet felt cool, grounding you as you tried to steady your breathing. "where are we? what is this place?"
felix glanced around, his expression serene yet thoughtful. "a reflection of the in-between. it’s not quite your world, not quite mine."
you frowned slightly, tilting your head. "why are we here?"
his gaze softened further, and he took another cautious step toward you, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. "because. i needed to see you again."
your breath hitched, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the dreamlike quality of the moment. "this feels... so real," you murmured, reaching out instinctively, though you stopped short of touching him.
"it is," felix replied, his voice a quiet assurance. "as real as it can be."
you hesitated for a moment, staring at his outstretched hand. it was so close, yet it felt like reaching for something impossibly distant. your heart raced as you extended your trembling hand toward him once more.
“can i... touch you?” you asked again, your voice quieter this time, as if afraid he might vanish if you spoke too loudly.
felix’s expression softened further, his lips curving into a smile so warm it felt like sunlight breaking through a storm. “you can,” he said, his voice gentle, almost reverent.
you reached out, and when your fingers met his, a jolt of warmth spread through you like ripples in still water. his skin wasn’t just soft—it was otherworldly, as if every molecule hummed with energy, radiating life and something deeper, something unnameable.
you gasped softly at the sensation, your fingertips brushing along the back of his hand. “it’s like… you’re made of light,” you murmured, your voice filled with awe.
felix chuckled softly, the sound low and soothing. “in a way, i suppose i am,” he replied, his thumb lightly brushing against your knuckles. “but what matters is that i’m here. with you.”
the weight of his words hit you, and your breath caught in your throat. you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for answers. “why are you doing this?”
his expression became more serious, though his touch remained tender. “because you deserve to feel loved, to feel cared for. you’ve been carrying so much for so long, and i couldn’t stand to see you bear it alone.”
your lips quivered, and tears began to well in your eyes. you fought them back, but the sheer kindness in his words made it impossible. “i don’t understand,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. “why me? i’m nobody special.”
felix’s dark eyes softened even further, and he took a small step closer, his presence as overwhelming as it was comforting. “you are special,” he said firmly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “you’ve survived so much, endured what most wouldn’t. you have a strength you don’t even realize.”
the tears spilled over then, and he reached out to gently brush them away, his touch featherlight. “you don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he said, his voice a vow. “i’m here. for as long as you’ll let me be.”
you stared at him, your heart swelling with emotions you hadn’t felt in years. gratitude. hope. maybe even something more.
but before you could speak, the dream began to shift, the bright marble surroundings fading into soft mist. you panicked, reaching for him as the world around you dissolved.
“felix, wait—don’t go!” you cried, desperation in your voice.
he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made the fading dream still for a moment. “i’m never far,” he promised, his voice steady and unshakable. “call for me, and i’ll come.”
and then he was gone. you woke up clutching your hand to your chest, as if trying to hold onto the feeling of him for just a little longer.
the memory of his words and his touch stayed with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—things could get better.
you found yourself spending more and more time with felix in your dreams, sharing conversations that ranged from the mundane to the profound. each night felt like peeling back another layer of his essence, and the bond between you deepened in ways you never imagined possible. he spoke to you with a sincerity that left you feeling safe and cherished, sharing stories of his watchful presence over the years, recounting moments when he had intervened in unseen ways to keep you safe. the weight of knowing just how much he had done for you was both humbling and overwhelming.
the concept of a guardian angel was still difficult for you to wrap your mind around—an ethereal being solely dedicated to protecting you. but even harder to believe was the fact that felix was yours. all yours.
felix never outright told you how much he cared for you, though you began to sense it in the way his gaze lingered, in the warmth of his words, and in the gentle way he reached out to comfort you. he held himself back, aware of your past pain, and was careful to move at a pace that respected your healing. he wanted to be patient, to give you all the time you needed, even as his feelings for you grew with each passing moment.
what he didn’t know was that you were falling for him just as quickly. the connection between you felt as natural as breathing, as though the universe itself had woven your fates together. the once-dreamlike visits began to feel more vivid and tangible, as if the line between the dream world and reality was slowly blurring.
by the time a month had passed, seeing him each night had become as natural as the sun setting. you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment you would drift off to sleep, knowing he would be there waiting for you, his presence offering you a kind of solace you hadn’t felt in years. it was no longer just a dream; it was a sanctuary. a place where you could be yourself, free from judgment, and bask in the warmth of someone who truly cared.
of course, it didn’t last. how could it? luck had never been on your side, and this fleeting comfort seemed no different. without warning, felix was gone. the dreams you once eagerly anticipated were now nothing but empty darkness, leaving you tossing and turning in your bed, haunted by the void his absence created. you replayed your last conversation over and over in your mind, searching for any clue, any indication of what might have gone wrong. everything had seemed so normal—he was attentive, warm, and genuinely happy to be with you. there was no sign that anything was amiss.
the silence left you with nothing but questions. had you said something to offend him? had he grown tired of you? the thought gnawed at you, stirring feelings of abandonment and self-doubt. yet, what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was that felix hadn’t chosen to leave. felix had gotten into trouble. big trouble.
far away from the sanctuary of your dreams, felix stood before the higher celestial realms, his head bowed in silent shame. the luminous expanse was unlike anything mortal eyes could comprehend—a vast court of blinding light, with entities of immeasurable power seated upon towering thrones of radiant energy. their voices were neither spoken nor heard but resonated directly within his being, each word a vibration that seemed to shake the very fabric of his existence.
“you have broken our most sacred laws, felix,” the central figure intoned, its voice a perfect balance of wrath and sorrow. “angels are not to reveal themselves to the living. and yet, you have not only shown yourself—you have formed a connection.”
felix clenched his fists at his sides, his golden head still lowered. “i couldn’t stand by and watch her suffer anymore,” he admitted, his voice steady despite the gravity of his situation. “she needed me. she needed someone.”
the entity’s light flared brighter, casting long shadows that seemed to pull at felix’s very essence. “your intentions may have been pure, but your actions were reckless. you risked exposing our realm to the mortal plane and disrupted the natural order.”
another voice, colder and sharper, chimed in. “you allowed emotion to cloud your duty. this is not love; it is folly. and now, you must face the consequences of your defiance.”
felix finally lifted his head, his freckled face set with quiet determination. “if loving her is a crime, then i will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary. but i don’t regret what i’ve done. she was alone in a way no one should ever have to be.”
the celestial beings exchanged glances, their forms shifting and flickering with the intensity of their deliberation. finally, the central figure spoke again, its tone heavy with finality. “felix, you are hereby stripped of your ability to interact with her. you will be confined to the astral plane, unable to enter her dreams or manifest in her presence. should you attempt to defy this order, the consequences will be irrevocable.”
the words struck him like a physical blow, and felix staggered, his heart aching with the weight of his punishment. to be kept away from you, to be forced to watch your pain from a distance without being able to comfort you—yet again–it was torment.
but there was nothing he could do. with a final flash of light, the court dissolved, and felix was left alone in the vast, endless expanse of the astral plane, his physical connection to you severed.
back in your world, you sat on your bed, staring at the clock as tears streamed down your face. the weight of his absence was unbearable, a silent ache that pressed against your chest. you whispered his name into the dark, hoping against hope that he could hear you, not knowing that he was out there, whispering your name too.
felix could still watch over you, still fulfill his celestial duties to keep you safe, but it wasn’t the same. something had shifted—an invisible barrier now confined him to the most basic of his responsibilities. no longer could he visit your dreams or stand by your side as you slept, even if you couldn’t see him. it tore at him. every part of him yearned to return, to let you know he was still there, to reassure you in the way only he could.
he could feel the ache of your unanswered questions, the way you were consumed by his sudden absence. you were falling deeper into a loneliness that clawed at your soul, a loneliness that made his punishment feel like a knife twisting in his chest. he knew you were hurting in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time, and the knowledge that he was the cause—however unintended—made it all the more unbearable.
winter came, and with it, you began to fade. the heavy, suffocating emptiness seeped back into your life, wrapping itself around you like a cold, unrelenting fog. your appetite vanished, and the simplest tasks became insurmountable. you stopped answering texts, ignoring calls from friends you hadn’t spoken to in weeks—some in months. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
nothing mattered anymore because nothing could fill the void felix had left. you tried, briefly, to shake the feeling, but no one could make you feel the way he did. felix had ruined you for anyone else, his presence so uniquely comforting and irreplaceable that his absence felt like a gaping wound.
felix watched helplessly, his golden light dimmer than it had ever been. he saw the way your energy drained, the light in your eyes fading. he knew he was the one thing that could pull you out of this darkness, and yet, he was forbidden from reaching you. he spent countless moments wrestling with his own helplessness, the longing to be with you tearing him apart.
in the nights that followed, as you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling with tear-streaked cheeks, he whispered your name softly into the void, desperate for you to hear, even if he knew it was impossible. all he could do was hope.
the dark feelings were relentless, clawing at the edges of your mind, whispering venomous lies that you couldn’t escape. for months, they lingered, festering in the absence of light. no friends, no family, no felix—just you and the unyielding barrage of your thoughts. you had tried to fight it, to push forward, but the weight of it all was suffocating.
one cold winter night, as the world outside lay silent under a blanket of snow, you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at the empty room around you. the loneliness felt louder than any noise could. enough was enough, you thought. the hollow ache in your chest felt unbearable, and you saw no way out.
you grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, your hands trembling as you began to write. words spilled out, raw and unfiltered—apologies to those you thought might care, explanations for your decision, and an overwhelming sense of defeat. the letter wasn’t long; it didn’t need to be. when you finished, you folded it neatly and placed it on your nightstand.
the pills sat in the cabinet for months, untouched but always there. you retrieved them now, your breath shaky as you poured them into your palm. one by one, they gleamed under the dim light of your bedside lamp, little capsules of finality. you clutched them tightly, tears slipping down your face, mingling with the numbness that had overtaken you.
but just as you raised your hand, the room shifted. the light flickered, a sudden gust of vanilla-scented air brushing against your skin. it was so sudden and so familiar that your hand froze. the bottle slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor, pills scattering across the wooden boards.
and then you saw him.
felix stood before you, his form shimmering like an ethereal beacon against the darkness. his golden hair glowed faintly, his freckled face etched with desperation and anguish. he looked at you, and for a moment, you could see the pain in his eyes—a reflection of your own.
“don’t,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “please don’t.”
your breath hitched as you stared at him, unsure if he was real or just another cruel trick of your mind. “you… you left me,” you choked out, tears streaming freely now. “i thought you were gone forever.”
“i didn’t want to go,” felix said, stepping closer, his presence radiating warmth. “they made me. but i couldn’t stay away anymore. i can’t lose you.”
you felt his hands, warm and soft, cupping your trembling ones. the faint buzz of energy that accompanied his touch was a reminder of the bond you shared. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with guilt. “i failed you.”
“no,” you whispered, shaking your head. “you didn’t. i just… i can’t do this anymore, felix. i can’t keep feeling like this.”
“you’re not alone,” he said firmly, his golden eyes locking onto yours. “you never were, and you never will be. i’ll fight for you, even if it costs me everything. but you have to promise me something.”
“what?” you asked, your voice barely audible.
“promise me you’ll hold on,” he said, his hands tightening slightly around yours. “even when it’s hard, even when it feels impossible. i’ll be here. i’ll always find a way to be here.”
the intensity of his words wrapped around you like a lifeline. for the first time in months, a glimmer of hope pierced through the suffocating darkness. you nodded, tears spilling as you whispered, “i promise.” felix pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and grounding. for a moment, time stood still, and the only thing that mattered was that he was here.
felix’s comfort only lasted a fleeting moment. his golden eyes, filled with relief as he cradled your face, suddenly clouded with pain. his expression twisted, and with a sharp intake of breath, he dropped to his knees beside your bed. his hands clutched at his chest as if trying to hold something unseen together, his gasps turning into strangled cries.
"felix?" you called out, panic lacing your voice as you knelt beside him, your hand pressing firmly against his trembling shoulder. the warmth of his skin beneath your touch felt fleeting, fragile, like it was slipping away. "what’s happening? tell me!"
he tried to speak, his lips parting, but no words came. instead, he groaned, his body convulsing slightly as though an unbearable weight pressed down on him. his anguish was palpable, his gasps ragged and labored, his entire form shuddering under some invisible force.
then, a sound—a haunting, visceral snap—echoed in the air, like the ripping of fabric mixed with the grotesque crunch of bone. felix’s head shot back, and he let out a heart-wrenching wail that cut through the room like a blade. his back arched unnaturally, his hands clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something that was no longer there.
you froze, horrified, as the source of his agony became clear. through the thin white cloth of his shirt, you saw it—two jagged, open wounds on his back, seeping blood that shouldn’t have existed. the fabric clung to the injuries, staining crimson as the bleeding continued.
"felix, what’s happening?!" you cried, your voice trembling as your heart raced wildly in your chest. you tried to steady him, your hands gripping his shoulders, but he flinched, his body recoiling from the touch like it burned.
he groaned again, his voice hoarse and broken. his glowing, ethereal presence dimmed before your eyes, his radiant skin now pallid and sallow. the faint hum of electricity you always felt when you touched him—gone. even the scent of vanilla, so comforting and familiar, seemed to fade, replaced by the metallic tang of blood.
his breathing was ragged, shallow, and his entire form quivered with agony. "no... no..." he muttered weakly, his voice barely a whisper.
"felix," you choked out, your tears blurring your vision. you pressed your hands to his face, your touch desperate. "please, what’s happening to you? tell me what to do!"
he looked at you then, his eyes swimming with sorrow and pain so profound it felt as if it might shatter you. his voice was barely audible, cracked and broken as he rasped, "they’ve... taken it... everything. my wings... my grace..."
your breath hitched, your mind reeling as the realization dawned on you. felix wasn’t just in pain—he had been exiled. stripped of his celestial essence, cast down to a mortal existence for breaking the sacred laws he once upheld.
tears streamed down your face as you tried to support his trembling body, your heart breaking at the sight of him so vulnerable, so human. "you’re bleeding," you whispered, your voice trembling as you pressed your hands against his back in a futile attempt to stem the flow.
"it doesn’t matter," he said, his words slurred with exhaustion. "i... i couldn’t stay away. i knew this would happen, but i couldn’t leave you... not like that."
the weight of his sacrifice hit you like a tidal wave, and you sobbed openly, clutching him tightly as he collapsed against you. felix’s breaths were shallow, his body heavy and weak as he leaned into your embrace.
"you shouldn’t have done this," you murmured, your voice cracking with guilt and despair.
"i had to," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "i love you.."
felix’s whispered confession hung in the air like a fragile thread, his words trembling with vulnerability. his golden eyes, dulled by exhaustion, searched yours for a reaction. the weight of his love—of everything he had given up—pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe.
"i love you," he repeated, stronger this time, as if saying it louder could convince you of its truth. his hand, trembling but resolute, reached up to touch your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears. "i’ve loved you for so long... even before you knew i existed. watching over you, seeing your pain, your strength... i couldn’t stand to just watch anymore. i couldn’t lose you."
tears streamed down your face as you cupped his face, his skin warm beneath your palms but lacking the celestial glow you’d once marveled at. "felix," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "you gave up everything for me. how could i ever be worth that?"
his lips curled into a faint, pained smile. "you’ve always been worth it. you’re worth every punishment, every scar, every moment of this mortal life. i would do it all over again just to see you safe, just to be with you."
you shook your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words. "i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you."
"yes, you do," he countered, his voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing him down. "you deserve to be loved, truly loved, in a way that heals instead of hurts. and if i’m the one who can give that to you, then i’ll bear whatever it takes."
his words cracked something open inside you—a dam you’d been holding back for so long. the love you felt for him, so deep and consuming, poured out all at once. "felix, i love you too," you confessed, your voice trembling. "i’ve been so scared to admit it, even to myself, but i do. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone."
felix’s eyes widened, glistening with tears of his own, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. his arms, though weak, wrapped around you tightly, pulling you into a desperate embrace. "you don’t know how much it means to hear you say that," he murmured against your hair.
you clung to him, your heart aching with both love and fear. "but what happens now? you’ve already lost so much because of me."
felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression resolute despite the pain etched into his features. "we’ll figure it out together," he promised. "no matter what comes next, i’m not leaving your side. not now, not ever."
his words were a lifeline, a tether to hope in the storm of uncertainty surrounding you.
as felix’s promise lingered in the air, his golden eyes searched yours with such intensity that it felt as though time had momentarily stopped. despite the anguish and exhaustion etched into his features, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you—something raw, something unspoken.
your fingers instinctively moved to his face, brushing back the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead. he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as if savoring the simple intimacy of it.
"felix," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "you're all i have."
his gaze snapped back to yours, filled with equal parts tenderness and desperation. "and you're everything i’ve ever wanted."
before you could reply, felix closed the distance between you. his lips met yours in a kiss so gentle it felt like it could break with the wrong move. there was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the unyielding truth of your shared emotions spilling into each other.
his kiss deepened as his trembling hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, as though he feared you might slip away if he let go. you felt the warmth of him, even in his weakened state, and the love he poured into that single moment overwhelmed you.
your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as the kiss turned more urgent. the pain, the fear, the heartbreak—they all melted away, leaving only the two of you and the fire igniting between you.
felix broke the kiss briefly, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "i can’t lose you," he murmured, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "not again. never again."
"you won’t," you promised, your voice steady despite the tears still streaming down your face. "i’m here. i’m not going anywhere."
as if reassured by your words, felix pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again with renewed fervor. his kisses were desperate yet tender, an unspoken apology for the pain you’d endured and a silent vow to never let you feel that way again.
something inside felix had snapped. whatever holy laws that prevented him from feeling this primal, sinful desire for you, they were long gone. something about kissing your lips, tasting you, drinking you in.. drove him into high gear. his hands were never ending in their exploration of your skin, roaming your body under your clothes. soft hums of appreciation left his lips as they danced hungrily against yours.
his love and affections for you were obvious.. but this instantly grew beyond an emotional depth, and he wanted to claim you. in this instant, it was more than wanting to care for you emotionally. he longed to satisfy your every desire, offering you the most exquisite sensations a human could experience. he wanted to give you even the slightest taste of heaven, even if he was no longer an angel.
his injuries and newfound pain were at the back of his mind–his main focus was you. finally, it was you.
your hands slid up his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held onto you like you were his lifeline. his body was warm, his presence grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight of your loneliness lifted.
the heat between you grew, felix’s touch becoming bolder as he brushed his hands down your sides, hesitant yet yearning. you felt his fingers tremble slightly, a reminder of his fragile state, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he held you tighter, pressing kisses along your jawline and down to the curve of your neck.
"felix," you whispered, your voice catching as his lips lingered on your skin.
he paused, his breath warm against your collarbone as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. his eyes were filled with love, devotion, and a vulnerability that took your breath away. "tell me if this is too much," he said softly, his voice hoarse but steady.
"it’s not," you replied, your own voice trembling. "but.. your back. you’re hurt."
felix’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his golden eyes softening even as his hands remained firmly on your waist. “don’t worry about me,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “this… what i’m feeling right now, being here with you… it’s worth any pain. i’m fine.”
you searched his face, uncertain, your fingertips brushing over his cheek. the warmth of his skin, the sincerity in his gaze, soothed your lingering doubts. “but felix—”
“i want this,” he interrupted gently, his voice carrying a rare firmness. his hands slid up your sides, steady despite their earlier trembling, until they rested just below your ribs. “i want you. i’ve wanted you for so long, and now that i have you here, i’m not going to let anything take me away from you again.”
your heart clenched at the conviction in his words. the love in his gaze was overpowering, a force you couldn’t fight against even if you wanted to. “you’re sure?” you asked softly, needing his confirmation, your fingers brushing through his disheveled hair.
he exhaled shakily, leaning his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own. “i’m more sure of this than i’ve been of anything in my existence. i’ve spent so long watching over you, loving you from afar. i don’t want to hold back anymore.”
felix tilted your chin gently, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt different from before. it wasn’t just hungry or desperate—it was tender, deliberate, filled with a quiet intensity that made your knees weak. his hands moved down, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.
his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling trail that made your breath hitch. he paused again, his voice barely above a whisper. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he said, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.
you shook your head, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling within you. “i don’t want you to stop, felix. i want you.”
at your words, felix released a shaky breath, his lips curling into a soft, relieved smile that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment, he grasped the hem of your shirt and began to lift it. the fabric slid over your skin with ease, leaving your stomach exposed to the cool air, and you felt your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.
you raised your arms, allowing him to remove the shirt entirely. the loss of its warmth left goosebumps in its wake, your skin tingling from the sudden exposure. felix’s gaze dropped, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate, his golden eyes darkening with something primal, something raw. his breath hitched as his gaze lingered on your bare skin, your braless chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. the chill of the room had already peaked your nipples, and the sight seemed to unravel him further.
a low, guttural sound escaped him, almost like a growl, as he leaned in. his lips brushed against the center of your chest, pressing soft, reverent kisses that made your breath catch. each touch was deliberate, tender, and filled with a worshipful intensity that made your mind spin.
his lips moved slowly, leaving warm trails across your skin as he kissed the delicate curve of one breast, then the other, lingering as though savoring every moment. the sensation sent jolts of heat coursing through your body, your chest heaving under his touch. felix took his time, his lips and hands mapping the contours of your body with a devotion that left you trembling.
your thoughts were a hazy blur, consumed by the realization of how intimate this moment was. felix—the celestial being who had once been tasked with shielding you from harm, who had watched over you like a guardian star—was now here, touching you in ways that felt both sinful and sacred.
his hands, his lips, his every movement felt as though they belonged there, as if this connection between you was meant to be all along. the contrast of what he once was and who he was now only deepened the intensity of the moment.
“i want to see more of you,” felix murmured, his voice low and thick with longing. his hand cupped the underside of your breast, his touch reverent, almost trembling. you met his gaze, your heart fluttering at the vulnerability in his eyes, and nodded slowly, offering him a soft smile.
standing, you reached for the knot on your pajama pants, untying it with shaky hands. felix’s eyes never left you, his gaze intense, watching every movement as if memorizing it. meanwhile, he began unbuttoning his pristine white shirt, the fabric catching slightly against his trembling fingers.
when the shirt finally slipped from his shoulders, you caught your breath. his honey-toned skin glowed faintly under the dim light, a stark contrast to the jagged wounds on his back and the fading bruises across his neck. he winced, a hiss escaping his lips as the shirt grazed the sensitive injuries, but the pain seemed to dissipate the moment his eyes landed on you.
you’d reclined on the bed, your pajama pants now discarded, leaving you in only your underwear. the soft light kissed your skin, highlighting every curve, and felix froze, his heart racing so wildly he thought it might burst.
he moved closer, his hands steady despite the overwhelming emotions coursing through him. leaning down, he pressed a kiss to each of your bent knees, his lips warm and tender against your skin. his hands trailed down your thighs, his fingertips grazing your soft flesh with a featherlight touch, as if afraid he might break you.
“felix?” you spoke, your voice shy and a little hoarse from the intensity of the moment.
“yes, my love?” he murmured, his tone soothing and steady, even as his lips brushed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“how do you…” you hesitated, your cheeks burning as your voice dropped lower, “know what to do? i thought angels couldn’t—”
felix chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. his hands continued their slow, adoring exploration of your skin, his lips hovering just above your thigh. “you’re right,” he said, his voice rich with affection. “angels don’t… but i’ve watched humans for centuries. seen their moments of love, of passion. i may not have experienced it before, but the thought of touching you, of being with you like this…” he paused, lifting his gaze to yours, his golden eyes filled with unwavering devotion. “it’s instinctual. it’s like i was made to know how to love you.”
his words sent a shiver through you, your chest tightening at the raw honesty in his voice. “felix…” you whispered, your hands reaching to cradle his face, your thumb brushing his cheek.
he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly before he pressed a kiss to your palm. “if i’m clumsy or unsure,” he continued, his voice soft, “just tell me. guide me. all i want is to make you feel cherished, loved... whole.”
your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, sitting up a bit to press your lips to his. “you’re doing everything right,” you assured him, your voice trembling with both nervousness and excitement.
felix’s lips curved into a soft smile against yours before he deepened the kiss, his touch growing more confident as his hands slid back to your thighs. his movements were reverent, as though worshiping every curve of your body. slowly, he shifted above you, breaking the kiss for a moment to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with both tenderness and longing.
one hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers brushing over your mound through the thin fabric of your panties. his golden eyes flickered down to watch his hand, but they quickly returned to your face, searching for your reaction. he pressed down with a little more pressure, the motion drawing a soft gasp from your lips. the sound sent a thrill through him, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.
felix’s movements became more deliberate, his fingers creating a gentle rhythm as they teased you through the fabric. your hips instinctively rose to meet his touch, grinding against his hand as he followed your lead. the warmth of his palm, the delicate friction, sent sparks of pleasure racing through you.
“can i feel you... underneath?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and desire. a faint blush dusted his cheeks, a charming reminder of his inexperience.
you reached up, threading your fingers through his tousled hair, offering him a reassuring smile. “yes, that’s okay,” you whispered.
he nodded, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss before his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. both of your breaths hitched simultaneously as his fingers met your slick heat. the intimacy of the moment made your cheeks flush with warmth, your body responding instinctively to his touch.
felix’s fingers explored you slowly, his movements careful but curious, as though memorizing every contour of your most sensitive place. when he brushed his middle finger against your clit, a moan escaped your lips, your hips jerking slightly in response. the sound sent a jolt through him, his arousal growing, the evidence of his desire pressing against the confines of his pants.
he began to circle your clit, experimenting with pressure and rhythm, his focus entirely on your reactions. every gasp, moan, and shudder guided him, and the connection between you deepened with each passing moment. your breaths became ragged, your body arching into his touch as he expertly worked you closer to the edge.
“felix, i’m gonna... oh my g-god!” you stammered, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure built within you.
he leaned down, pressing kisses to your jaw and neck, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. let go for me,” he murmured, his words like a lifeline pulling you into bliss.
your orgasm hit with devastating intensity, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over you. your legs shook uncontrollably, your nails digging into his forearm as you cried out, your voice cracking with the force of your release. felix watched you with awe, his heart swelling with pride as he took in the sight of you—your back arching off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your entire form glowing with pleasure.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his chest tightening at the sight of you undone beneath him. the sheer intensity of your release and the knowledge that he had brought you to this point sent a surge of arousal through him, his own need nearly overwhelming.
as you descended from the peak of your bliss, your chest heaving with each breath, felix leaned in to press a delicate kiss to your temple. his touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his fingers softly brushed a strand of hair from your flushed face. “are you okay, my love?” he asked, his voice low and tender, full of concern.
you nodded, your lips curling into a shy, dazed smile. “mhm… that was… really good,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
a soft chuckle escaped felix’s lips as he carefully withdrew his hand from your panties, his golden gaze dropping to the slick coating his fingers. without hesitation, he brought the digits to his mouth, his lips parting as he sucked them clean with an experimental slowness. his eyes fluttered shut briefly, and when they reopened, they glimmered with darkened desire.
“you taste divine, y/n,” he murmured, his voice rich with admiration and unrestrained hunger.
your cheeks flamed at the sight of him savoring you, but your attention shifted to the noticeable bulge straining against his pants. the sight sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and when your gaze returned to his face, you found him already watching you. his eyes were soft yet filled with a pleading sort of anticipation, his vulnerability laid bare.
“can i…?” you asked cautiously, your hand lightly pressing against the outline of his arousal.
felix’s breath hitched at your touch, his expression briefly contorting, not in discomfort but in a momentary overwhelm at the unfamiliar sensation. “y-yes,” he stammered, his voice shaky. “but… be gentle, please?”
“of course,” you assured him, offering a comforting smile as you carefully guided him to lie back. “just relax. don’t worry about the sheets.”
he followed your guidance, grunting softly as he adjusted his position. though the movement aggravated his healing wounds, felix bit back any complaints, his focus entirely on you. how could he not, when you knelt before him, bare and beautiful, your hands already working to free him from his remaining clothes?
as you tugged his pants down, his erection sprang free, slapping against his toned stomach. you couldn’t help but admire him—his length was flushed a deep pink, the prominent head peeking shyly beneath the extra skin. he was perfect, and undeniably human in this moment.
you leaned down, pressing soft, deliberate kisses along the base of his shaft, your lips trailing up the warm skin. felix’s breathing grew uneven, his golden eyes flickering down to watch you, though he struggled to hold your gaze. his cheeks were painted with a faint blush, his flustered expression only adding to his allure.
“you’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with awe.
felix’s lips parted as if to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat, replaced by a soft groan as you kissed the underside of his length. your touch was gentle, tender, as though you understood how new and overwhelming this was for him.
“does this feel okay?” you asked softly, your eyes seeking his for reassurance.
felix nodded quickly, his voice catching as he replied, “yes… it feels incredible.”
encouraged by his soft groans and whispered praises, you continued your delicate exploration, your lips and hands moving with care and devotion. felix’s chest rose and fell in a rhythm that matched the tremors of his breath, his hands clutching the sheets tightly as if anchoring himself to reality.
when your lips wrapped around his length, his entire body jerked slightly in response, a low groan escaping his parted lips. the sound was raw, unrestrained, and it sent a surge of confidence through you. you moved slowly, your mouth warm and wet as you took him deeper, your tongue teasing the sensitive head with deliberate flicks and swirls. with each motion, you made sure to pull the skin back gently, exposing the most sensitive part of him to your ministrations.
“god, y/n… that’s—” his voice cracked, his words dissolving into a panting moan. his abs flexed involuntarily under your touch, and his head fell back onto the pillow, golden hair splayed like a halo. his hands left the sheets to tangle in your hair, his fingers trembling as they brushed against your scalp, though he didn’t pull or guide—he simply held on as if the pleasure was too much to bear alone.
your pace remained steady, your tongue working magic against him as you hollowed your cheeks to increase the intensity. felix’s reactions were mesmerizing—his breath hitched, his thighs quivered, and his lips parted to let out soft, helpless moans. you could feel his arousal building, his body tightening under your touch.
“a-ah… wait!” he suddenly cried out, his voice desperate as his hips tensed.
alarmed, you pulled off immediately, his length slipping from your lips with a wet pop. “felix? did i hurt you?” you asked, your voice laced with concern, your eyes searching his flushed face for any sign of discomfort.
he shook his head quickly, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “n-no, love,” he managed, his voice shaky but reassuring. “you didn’t hurt me. i just… i was getting close, and i… i didn’t want it to end so soon.” his golden eyes, filled with vulnerability and desire, met yours, and he offered a soft, apologetic smile. “i want to feel more with you. all of you.”
his words sent a new wave of warmth through your body, and you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “it’s okay, felix,” you murmured against his mouth, your tone soothing. “we’ll go at your pace. i just want to make you feel good.”
felix’s breath hitched as he let out a shaky laugh, his hands cradling your face with a tenderness that seemed almost at odds with the raw desire in his eyes. his golden gaze searched yours as though looking for permission to continue. “you already make me feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “but��� please, i need to feel you completely. let me… let me be inside you.”
the desperation in his plea made your heart skip a beat, his need evident in the way his length twitched against your skin. “are you sure?” you asked softly, your voice laced with caution and care.
“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” felix replied fervently, his hands trembling slightly as they traced down your sides. before you could say another word, he gently guided you onto your back, his movements deliberate but brimming with urgency.
he tugged at the fabric of your panties, slipping them down and casting them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. the sight of you bare beneath him seemed to stoke his desire even further, his lips crashing into yours with newfound hunger. his knees parted your thighs a little more, positioning himself between them as he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring yours with a fervor that left you breathless.
your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. the anticipation was electric, your body taut with expectation. felix pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his hand guiding his aching length to your entrance. “if you need me to stop, just say the word, okay?” he whispered, his tone full of care despite the tension in his voice.
you nodded, biting your lip as your head sank into the pillow, bracing yourself for the moment you had both been yearning for. slowly, felix began to push inside you, his hips trembling as he sank into your warmth. the sensation overwhelmed him instantly—your tight heat surrounding him in a way that made his breath falter and a shudder rack his body.
a gasp escaped your lips as he slid all the way in with one smooth motion, the stretch both surprising and exhilarating. felix braced himself on his forearms, his face hovering just above yours. his eyes fluttered shut, and a whimper escaped his lips as he struggled to stay composed. “god… so tight…,” he muttered, his voice strained as he adjusted to the sensation.
for a moment, he stilled, giving you both a chance to adjust. his gaze returned to yours, full of concern and adoration. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
“y-yeah,” you managed, your voice breathy. “you can move.”
felix exhaled a deep breath and began to roll his hips, starting with a moderate pace. his movements were tentative at first, his eyes fixed on your expression to ensure you were comfortable. but as your gasps turned to soft moans, his confidence grew.
the friction was maddening, his steady rhythm sending waves of pleasure through both your bodies. each thrust drew a mix of grunts and whimpers from felix, his forehead resting against yours as he poured his entire being into every movement. “you feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice shaky with restraint.
your hands found purchase on his back, being cautious of his wounds. your fingers dug into the taut muscles as his pace began to quicken. the pressure was building, both of you lost in the connection that felt as much emotional as it was physical. “felix…” you moaned his name, your legs tightening around his waist as his hips snapped against yours with increasing fervor.
his breathing became erratic, his pace growing desperate as he chased his release. “y/n… i can’t…” he gasped, his body trembling with the effort to hold back.
“it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice tender and encouraging. “let go, felix.”
with a strangled cry, felix buried himself as deeply as he could, his entire body shuddering as his climax overtook him. his hips stilled, pressing tightly against yours as warmth filled you, his groans muffled against your neck as he clung to you like you were his lifeline.
for a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your mingled breaths, the quiet intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. felix finally lifted his head, his flushed face framed by his damp hair, and his eyes met yours with a look of pure devotion. “i love you,” he whispered, the words filled with awe.
your heart swelled, and you reached up to cradle his face. “i love you too, felix.”
as the two of you lay entwined in the quiet aftermath, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth of his body against yours and the steady rhythm of his breathing. felix’s fingers lazily traced patterns on your skin, his touch grounding and tender. there was a newfound softness in his gaze as he looked at you, a vulnerability that mirrored your own. whatever boundaries had once kept him from you—divine laws, celestial duties, or his own insecurities—had crumbled completely, leaving behind a love that was raw, human, and boundless. in that moment, as you rested your head against his chest, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, you both understood that this was where you belonged: together, in a love that defied heaven and earth.
©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.
#skz smut#skz x reader#skz hard thoughts#skz imagines#kpop x reader#skz scenarios#skz fic#skz fluff#skz angst#stray kids smut#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff#stray kids felix#stray kids felix smut#stray kids felix fluff#stray kids felix angst#stray kids x reader#stray kids#stray kids links#smut x reader#skz felix#lee felix x reader#lee felix
547 notes
·
View notes
Text
f-r-e-a-k !‿✷。✧
lost light members react to human porn (and develop some preferences of their own.)
ft. skids! megatron! rodimus! swerve! ultra magnus!
nsfw under the cut.
rodimus prime - top-five ranked
when he first heard actual, genuine human content had reached aboard his ship, he had quickly formed a half-assed meeting to announce that he, of course, being captain and all should review with ultra magnus.. and perhaps rewind too, before dispersing it out to the crew.
of course when ultra magnus expressed his surprise at this new leaf turned, eager to scour through intergalactic protocol he simply let one word out the other audial and made some grave, grammatical errors to distract the mech and let the captain do his own decision making.
he spends a lot of time nitpicking. he doesn't like movies as much so he reserves those to swerve nor does he care too much about books.
a functioning computer however....
he's bored. and curious. two demons that never dwell well together in the same room.
clearing browser history? never heard of that!
good thing the previous owner has lots of bookmarks, because he finds it infinitely easier to sift through links there than carefully type.
"porn...hub? what's that? must be some kinda uh.. uhhh... uh."
cue the fan whirring. he's hunched over and slack jawed, staring at the frankly color-clashing archive and almost pushing himself away when the cursor hovers over a video - and the humans in it start moving.
clicked the first video with a bold "#1 ranked". he really shouldn't. he really, really should just toss this tempting contraband out the nearest garbage disposal.
"unhh! harder! haaarder! ♡"
he's focused hard on the spike - cock, he learns, or dick, humans got lots of funny terms - ruts rough into you, forcing you to melt forward and squeak through sheets.
the loud, exaggerated moans make him pitifully decide otherwise. imagine him, all weak in the knees, sliding down to sit as he watches transfixed.
flesh on flesh hitting sounds a lot better when it's this and not fighting.
sooner or later, he's huffing into his servo, jacking off his spike and squeezing the tip so rough he's almost jealous seeing you bouncing away. you'd be so, so fragging soft. he can imagine squeezing your limbs and twisting you around to his liking.
overloads fast. he's almost ashamed enough to be embarrassed.
now? can't reach his climaxes unless there's some raunchy, wet-coated squeals in his memory banks. doesn't bother searching up anything because he doesn't have the patience to cultivate. you just happen to be at the top so he gladly sticks watching your holes get sticky any cycle.
skids - playboy bunny
"oh for prime's sake, chromedome don't make me feel like i'm trading for somethin' illegal."
won a "mystery stash" from a late night gamble. of course, not all of rodimus's finds stayed quiet.
he isn't sure why it's such a big deal. the cardboard box which spills open easily under a digit's care isn't filled with weaponry or bombs.
it's almost funny, this giant picking up a magazine in a pinch, helm tilted and keeping it an arm's distance away like the pages might bite.
he looks at the front cover for a long, long time.
his processor isn't catching up. then he squints. gets reaaaaal close.
there's you! all dolled up, as the humans would say. except you're really not, because half of your squishy aft is out, and your servos are covering up your chest but aren't doing a good job.
neither is the bright, blue bow christened at your pelvic area, where he realizes with a jolt is lacking any modesty panels of any kind.
flips a page. oh, it's you again. curved over a lounge. cheekily spreading yourself with a... gathering of lace twisted around your frame.
another one. you got something round in your mouth. he looks carefully at your lips.
and then he's flipping through all of it, and digging into the box and oh, he's found a jackpot because it's all you.
now he understands why it's got the markered "collectors items" on the side. he doesn't question too much when he spits lubricant down onto his spike. dedicated some of that cotton candy gossamer all over your february edition of playboy in approval.
megatron - classic erotica
a true mech of literature. now, unlike many of the lost light, he's had his run in with humanity before. not that he particularly got or wanted to enjoy their culture back then.
though when he did find his way back onto a possible path of redemption, he did indulge once upon a time.
at his spark, he's a poet. a linguist. enjoyer of golden age, art and craftsmanship.
earthen literature has its.. moments. he reads novellas and lost to the history manuscripts, plays, all of which have almost all been uploaded to more convenient means as upkeep for the paper is a pain.
however, he has found one book. a funny looking book, with a funny looking cover.
he observes, rigidly, the scandalous embrace of what he assumed to be the characters, how clothing lacked in areas it shouldn't and skin was almost.. glistening. "seven nights of passion." a chuff left his dermas.
ah, to pit with it. why not?
megatron finds himself slowly involved with the chapters despite the comedy of its advertisement. the writer, you, no doubt under a penname, push development shockingly far.. for a human.
and the intimacy? interfacing? so descriptive. while he has not seen what he is reviewing, he can imagine it. images of sweaty bodies, grinding and yearning and crying.
cybertronians have no reason or function to. the thought of a human, pushed to the brink overloaded with stimulation is... stimulating.
it is a shame when it comes to an end but he might in his free-time peruse for more. leaves his plating warm and intake dry.
the authors note suggests that your inspiration drives from personal experience.
his ... array fizzles at that. fascinating.
swerve - r-rated movie night
"wowza. that's hh. haha. woah! they all do that.. ?"
first movie he flipped onto the projector was supposed to be an "action and feel-good film with hints of romance, angst and sci-fi elements."
not even halfway through, you, the imaginary captain of the imaginary "roman's ravager" have your uniform shimmied down to your ankles, mouth mashing against your supposed rival, who everyone has been heckling for the past forty-five minutes.
some of the mechs cheer, other grumble and argue to skip, others squirm and grimace. swerve watched you push the other down, head tilting back as the camera zooms to your face.
"it's just acting, ya' degenerates, stop acting like protoforms!"
it isn't until he feels a servo smack upside his helm that he starts fumbling for the remote. too much noise but now he's getting a comm from mags asking about what the rackets for so! fast forward he goes.
at 1x.
while the chaos starts to settle, he peeks between digits. catches glimpses of your open mouth. the goosebumps down your chest. how you shake at the insinuation that someone is between your legs, servicing.
slag. when's the last time he's even played with his valve?
movie night was a hit regardless of the commotion. he has to clean up after, which thankfully didn't result in any expelled energon or skid-marks.
that also means he's alone. alone, in his bar. all by himself, staring at the rest of the discs with your pictures on the front, credits humming in the background.
it'll be good for the economy. (all of it is pirated.)
maybe it's for the best. because now, he's realizing you really are a great actor, in lots of different genres, able to adapt and really grab his attention.
it's not as if his spark pulses seeing you in costumes, or using that soft voice you do in all your roles when you make a point.
not like he's riding his digits and crunching into a fist when you're running on the beach, sand dappled and leaving little to imagination.
ends up on his back, charged up and shaking. hurts to speak, to move or to dab up the puddle of transfluid, laughing deliriously when his panels are even too much effort to close.
ultra magnus - audio praise
"you're doing such a good job. you're perfect. you know that, right? yes you do, so good for me."
when he first heard you, he damn near crushes the auditory device and full-blown shudders in the confines of his hab. he's sputtering, optics wide and there's a million reasons he should report this to rodimus and question just what he's given him.
"to help ya uh... research? take the edge off pal."
half-contemplates storming back to the bridge himself if it weren't for your sugar-coated mumbles still coming through the unpaused recording.
you'd think he was dealing with a ticking blast with how he warily handles the device, gruffly spitting out curses that he'd otherwise never allow in crew vicinity.
"i want you to reward yourself. you earned it, honey. can you do that for me? here, listen."
to his horror - and crumbling interest - a slick cacophony of sound rattles in his helm. there's panting, a shift of material that he assumes is tangled around you and frag, he's able to think up you and a thousand faces.
what's worse? is he's hypnotized. you don't demand. you coo to him, just loud enough to let him know you'd be broken too. if he let himself let down that wall, just for the twenty minutes you sing in his audials, he'll know it's done with you just as weak.
"g—gooood job ahhhh!" that does it. ultra magnus groans, shutting off his optics entirely. his large servo feels up along his frame as you suggest.
"i wish you were here. hah.. mmn! could see me. see me fucking myself to you. let you kiss me. you deserve it, sweetie. deserve me on you."
magnus and the sobbed growl to his motors reminds him just how lonely he's felt. always monitoring. always stressed. hearing the spit collect at your throat as your commands grow hoarse makes you feel real.
would you... would you kiss him? would you let him pick you up, rest you flat on his servo and have his glossa lap up your want?
he towers over nearly all. having a partner so much smaller, tinier than even an minibot, shouldn't run up a charge but it does.
he overloads when he's sticking digits near the casing of his spark, ignoring the spurts of pre sizzling down his thighs.
"w-was that as fun.. for you as it was for me?"
dazedly falls onto his berth. this isn't leaving his dermas unless he's had a drink.
a/n : a little haha funny idea i had. there's just something so funny thinking of these giant old robots realizing just how much porn is out there.
#maccadam#mtmte x reader#first contact au#transformers x reader#headcanons#/nsft#mtmte#valveplug#rodimus prime x reader#rodimus x reader#megatron x reader#ultra magnus x reader#swerve x reader#skids x reader#my last kaboomie before the work week#/nsfw#transformers x human
736 notes
·
View notes