Soulmarks mean you're destined to be with someone whether you want to be with them or not. In fact, refusing a bond is medically inadvisable and downright dangerous.
Not that that stops one girl's fear of being the soulmate of someone she never expe...
No smut in this one, sorry. Just cute domestic fluff. Oh god, the fluff.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The way you feel when you kiss him for the first time. Like fire within your bones. Like your soul has returned to the water. Like every part of you that came from a dead star is alive again.- Nikita Gill
Lea woke slowly, feeling safe and warm and content despite the dull ache between her legs.
At first, she barely registered her nudity, or even the arm was thrown loosely around her waist, holding her against a bare chest. Her first instinct, in fact, was to snuggle closer.
Instead, though, she blinked her eyes open.
She hadn't known what she'd expected to see. Perhaps it had simply never occurred to her.
Regardless, what she had not expected was for Timothée motherfucking Chalamet to be sleeping peacefully and holding her bare body against his own.
At the sight of him, the memories came flooding back.
The delirium, the visions, the emptiness.
I want you to take me, fuck me until I can't move, Timothée, please—
I'll give you anything you want. I'll give you the fucking world if you want it, just don't run from me again.
I'm yours and you're mine.
I'm gonna fucking wreck you.
What I really want is to see you spread out for me wearing nothing but my mark.
Doing her best not to hyperventilate, she extracted herself from the warmth of his arms slowly so as not to wake him, grabbed her pajamas, and moved to leave the room as quickly and quietly as she could. She needed to think, and how in the hell was she supposed to have any cognitive activity at all with him so close?
She hadn't planned for this. She'd explicitly planned for this not to happen, actually. Which wasn't to say that she hadn't wanted it, of course. She absolutely had. Even in retrospective panic, Lea could recognize that it had been necessary, and, well.
If one was going to lose one's virginity, there were certainly worse ways for it to go down than what she'd experienced.
She had some difficulty figuring out how the hell to get out of his room, because directly to the left of the bed was just a hallway with two sets of double doors that went out onto a patio-balcony type of thing that overlooked the city, which was currently being illuminated by bright sunlight. There was a door at the end of the hallway, too, but she was fairly certain they'd turned a corner the night before, so she figured the door that was around the corner rather than at the end of the hallway was probably the one for the bedroom —or whatever the hell this huge-ass room with a fucking hallway in it qualified as; Lea and Sam's seven hundred square foot apartment didn't have even one hallway— itself.
