#Lots of scribblies still - I think it's a good thing

[adobe-outdesign]

Origami brush review?

Origami was released in 2018 as the third-place winner in a pet poll featuring new colors (surprisingly as a brush—would've expected this to be a Lab Ray colour, but then again Lab Ray colours are a pain so I'm not really complaining). I think the idea behind this colour is solid—paper-craft pets is a unique idea that has both flexibility and consistency. Granted, I don't think most origami pets actually legally qualify as origami due to the clear use of scissors, but hey, that's just me being pedantic.

One big thing about origami as a colour is that it's gone through three distinct visual changes since its release. Originally, origami pets tended to be a single color with drawn-on features, and they tended to look somewhat flat. This was fine, albeit a little bland given that it's just a paper version of a base/simple colour. Then they started to become more three-dimensional, and started having normal eyes and mouths; pets from this stage might also have two colors in their design. I think these pets tended to be the worst looking, in that they neither look like paper nor look all that appealing in general.

Stage 3, however, brought a welcome shift: starting with the origami Korbat, the colour gained a distinct visual identity by including colored paper (usually with more muted/pastel colors, though not always). This was a fantastic move that added some much-needed depth to the color, and it fits perfectly with the theme. This stage also brought back the drawn-on eyes and a slightly more paper-y look. TNT seems to be sticking with this route for the time being, and I'm all for it, as all of the best looking origami pets fall into this category.

Origami was released post-customization, so no need to cover conversion this time.

Favorite Species:

Yurble: The origami Yurble has a lovely muted brown palette with a flower-patterned mane, and I think it looks lovely. The eye is drawn-on and manages to be two-dimensional without looking too flat, and the folds are pretty decent (the mane in particular looks very papercraft-esq.). The shading might be a smidge dark for paper, but that's a nitpick—otherwise, this one's very nice.

Korbat: The first origami pet to use patterned paper, the Korbat really knocks it out of the park. The patterning is kept subtle on the body to not overwhelm the design but is allowed to be more prominent on the accent areas, and the use of three colors works surprisingly well even though the darker blue wings aren't technically needed. I do think the face could've been a smidge more scribbly, but it's not too noticeable here as their eyes are already black.

Koi: I really like how the paper used for the fins here is both incredibly flat looking and also has a wave pattern to it, which makes a lot of sense thematically for a fish. The subtle patterning on the body is also a nice touch, and kind of mimics a Koi's natural markings. My only minor issues are that the eyes feel a bit dark, and I wish the whiskers were both the same pattern as the fins and flatter. Still, it's good overall.

Least Favorite Colour:

Kougra: The Eyrie was also a strong contender here, but I have to give it to the Kougra for not even looking like paper. Instead, between the very normal eyes and the weird flat folds overlaying a very three-dimensional body, it looks more like a regular Kougra wearing paper armor. The design is also just mostly solid orange (technically two different shades, not that there's enough contrast for that to matter), so there's not a whole lot of visual interest. The scribbly stripes are cute, but that's about it.

[luckyroll3]

Quid Pro Quo: Chapter 2

Masterlist and Summary

Warnings: This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only. Includes explicit sexual content, graphic language, some violence, etc. Author chooses to not extensively tag in order to preserve some elements of storytelling.

Word Count: 10,816

The scent of coffee mingles with Chan's cologne as you lean over his shoulder, watching him scribble furiously on the practice exam. His brow furrows in concentration, a stark contrast to his usual carefree demeanor. 

"Time's up," you announce, plucking the paper from his hands. Chan groans dramatically and leans back in his chair, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. You sit next to him and pull out your red pen. 

As you grade his exam, curiosity gets the better of you. "How’d it go with that girl from the bar?"

Chan's signature dimpled grin appears. "Oh, you know. She invited me back to her dorm. We had some fun."

You roll your eyes but can't suppress a smile. "Of course she did. Who could resist all that cocky energy and swag? What kind of ‘fun’ did you have?"

“The kind of ‘fun’ that you and I have had, but also the kind of ‘fun’ that we haven’t.” He smirks. You shake your head as you continue grading. "What about you and your boyfriend?" Chan asks, his tone surprisingly genuine. "How's that going?"

"It's good," you reply, a warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of Changbin. "Really good.” You place a couple of checkmarks on the paper. “Actually, he knows you. From the Saturday soccer games? Changbin?"

Chan's eyebrows shoot up. "Binnie? The loud, super swol guy from the frat? Really? That’s your man? Small world."

“Yup.” You circle an error and add a question mark.

“Sooooo, you’re the Virgin Mary. Ha!” Chan slaps his thigh and stamps his feet as he laughs it up.

You stop grading for a second to look at him, your eyes questioning. “Excuse me? The what?”

“The Virgin Mary,” Chan repeats, still chuckling. “That’s what they call you.”

“Bin doesn’t call me that. He better not call me that,” you say sassily. “I'd kick his fucking ass.”

“He doesn’t, but his douche-ass frat bros do. They always make fun of him for all the cold showers he has to take.” Chan continues laughing at your expense. 

“I’m sure they call me lots of things. It’s not even very original. Do they think I’m saving myself for Jesus?” you snort, shaking your head before turning your attention back to his practice exam. “But they’re also not the brightest people; I don’t know if Bin would be in that frat if he wasn’t a legacy.”

He chuckles. “Very true.” He pauses, studying you, taking in the turquoise floral sundress currently hugging your frame, one of the thin straps hanging off your right shoulder. His eyes land on your cleavage for a bit before returning to your face. "So, why does someone who looks like you and has such a cool personality so... inexperienced?"

“Someone who looks like me?”

“Yes. Let’s not pretend that you don’t know you’re fucking hot. And I say that totally respectfully.” He lifts his hands up as if in surrender.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks. You’ve gotten this question before, though you usually ignore it. You’re not sure why you feel compelled to answer when Chan asks. "I am fucking hot,” you say casually with a smirk that makes Chan’s grin widen. “I've been focused on school. You think engineering is hard? Try majoring in astrophysics! And NASA only interviews the top 1%. Guess how many of those are women? Getting to NASA has been my only priority for years; since I was 15.” You notice Chan listening attentively in your periphery. “There also weren’t many guys that I’ve been interested in. I mean I went on dates and stuff, but I never cared to do more with them. For a while there, I thought I might be asexual. And then Bin came along and….”

“And you started tingling in places?” Chan finished for you in a sing-song voice. 

“Ha! Yes, I guess you could say that. I started tingling in lots of places. Changbin's the first guy I've ever really wanted more with." You wonder why you’re being so open with Chan. The only other person you’ve shared any of this with was your best friend from back home.

"Hmmm. And how's he been dealing with the whole no-sex thing?" Chan leans forward, genuinely curious. "I can go without for about 2 weeks, but then I’m dying. Guy must be a saint."

You laugh, nodding. "He is. He’s a fucking saint. I’ve had guys try to guilt me into more or even attempt to force themselves on me. Not Binnie. He’s the most respectful guy I’ve ever met. He’s super cuddly and affectionate. He's been so patient and kind to me and he’s never asked for more. It's just one of the many reasons I'm falling in love with him."

Chan's eyes widen. "Love? After a year? Without any intimacy?"

You shrug, feeling a bit defensive of your relationship. "We haven’t said the words yet. But we're emotionally intimate. We share everything except our bodies."

Chan shakes his head, chuckling. "Not my style. Ugh, fuck feelings. I prefer to keep things purely physical."

You slide his exam back across the table. "Well, to each their own. Being a fuck boy works for you and being the reincarnated virgin mother works for me. You only got 5 out of 20 wrong. Not bad, Channie."

Chan's laughter fills the room as he spots the gold star sticker you've added. "Really? A gold star? What am I, five?"

“It’s motivation! There’s more where that came from,” you say waving the sticker sheet in his face.

As he grins at you, dimples on full display, you can't help but wonder if there's more to Chan than his playboy facade. 

Later that evening, Chan continues your lesson on foreplay, introducing you first to fingering. His hands are strong yet surprisingly gentle as they caress your inner thighs, teasing you with featherlight touches before moving his hand beneath your dress, then slowly sliding your panties down your legs. He slips a finger inside you. You gasp at the new sensation of being stimulated by fingers that aren’t your own.

"Just relax," he says softly. "I'll go slow."

Chan adds another finger, curling them expertly within you until you're trembling with pleasure. His eyes darken with lust, but his expression remains tender. 

"How does that feel?" he asks softly.

You manage a breathless, "Amazing."

You gasp and squirm as Chan's fingers stroke your most intimate parts. His touch sends tingles radiating through your core and your body craves more of it.  

"Does Changbin know about this?" Chan murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His fingers slide deeper as your back arches into his touch. “Me ‘tutoring’ you, I mean.”

"N-no," you stammer, flushed with arousal. You've kept these private lessons secret. 

Chan hums thoughtfully, working you with steady, skillful fingers. "Think he'd be jealous, knowing I touch you like this?" 

You bite your lip, holding back a moan. Chan notices.

“Don’t hold back. Let it out. Let me know how you feel.” You follow his instructions and moan loudly. “Good girl.”

You think back to his question, letting your mind imagine Changbin's potential reaction to all of this. He rarely gets angry and he’s not really the jealous type, but this is a very unique situation you’ve placed yourself in. “I’m not sure,” you finally answer in between your moans. “But since there’s no feelings involved here, I don’t think he’d be that upset.” 

Chan smiles and continues pleasuring you with his fingers. "No feelings involved, huh? That's good to know."

“Your rules, sir,” you barely get out under your breath. “I just live by them.” You let your eyelids fall close gently.

Chan laughs softly. “In my experience, boyfriends tend not to like other guys seducing their girls. Especially not by fuck boys with reputations like mine.” His breath ghosts across your neck as he leans in, whispering into your ear. "Have you ever had an orgasm before?”

You nod your head slowly.

“You masturbate?”

“Regularly,” you whisper. 

“Oh really?” Chan seems amused by this, his eyes lighting up. “So you know what an orgasm feels like.” You nod again. “But no one else has made you cum before?” His voice is low.

You shake your head. “No,” you admit verbally, the word barely audible. Your breaths start to quicken. 

“Getting to be your first will be an honor then.”

“Why are men always so fixated on being ‘the first’?” you whisper, curious about the male psyche.

“We’re genetically programmed to be conquerors,” he whispers back softly. “It’s literally ingrained in our DNA. You know, the sequence of genes on the Y-chromosome in most modern males that they’ve been able to trace directly back to Genghis Khan?” You feel like you’ve just been transported into a National Geographic documentary narrated by someone who does voiceovers for erotica audiobooks.

Your eyes pop open, wide with bewilderment as you stare at him. “Who the fuck are you?” you blurt out with a laugh.

He laughs, a deep and hearty sound that fills the room. “What? I read! Now stop getting distracted!”

“Stop distracting me then, Chan,” you retort playfully as you return your gaze to the ceiling.

He places his free hand on your face and gently brushes your eyelids down. “Close your eyes and enjoy.” And with that simple command, all thoughts and distractions vanish from your mind as you surrender yourself completely to him.

His fingers curl inside you as his thumb presses firmly against your clit before he starts rotating it in small, quick circles that have you seeing stars. You feel his other hand slip the strap of your dress off your shoulder to reveal one of your tits; seconds later, he starts to twist the nipple. Then you feel the warmth as his lips encircle it and he flicks it with his tongue. Your breath hitches, body trembling. Your climax builds, your moans growing louder. 

“No one is here. You can get as loud as you want,” he says as he kisses across your cleavage, encouraging you. His mouth returns to your nipple and he sucks gently.

Chan works you higher and higher until you cry out, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of blissful release.

As you catch your breath, Chan gently withdraws his hand and places a soft kiss on your neck, before he respositions the strap on your shoulder to cover your chest. "How was that for your first time?"

"Amazing," you pant, still tingling from the aftershocks.

“You said that already.”

You open your eyes and turn your head to look at him. “Sensational, extraordinary, phenomenal, stupendous, thrilling, wondrous, spectacular,” you tease with a smirk. 

Chan grins, entertained by your sass. "I aim to please." 

As the two of you sit next to each other on the bed taking a break, he invites you to ask him anything. He hands you a bottle of water.

When you finish taking a generous gulp, you decide to ask him a personal question. “What’s the real reason you’re hesitant about relationships?”

Chan looks thoughtful for a moment before speaking. "I guess I've just had some bad experiences in the past that made me wary," he says. He pauses again. “My high school girlfriend broke my heart,” he says finally after a minute.

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was my first real relationship. We dated all through high school. I was so in love with her, I naively thought we'd be together forever. Dumb right?” He looks up at you for for confirmation.

“No. Not at all,” you say softly.

“Right before senior prom, she dumped me out of the blue. Then she showed up to prom with another guy; turned out she’d been cheating on me with him for a few months. I was devastated," he says quietly, looking down at his hands. “It messed me up,” he admits.

He pauses, taking a shaky breath. You reach for his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. Chan looks up at you, his eyes glistening.

"After that, I promised myself I wouldn't let myself get that emotionally invested again. I just started hooking up with girls, no strings attached. No feelings, no way to get hurt.”

You listen intently, surprised at his openness. This is a more vulnerable side of him that you haven't seen before.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," you say sincerely. “She sounds like a bitch.”

"Thanks.” He gives you a small smile. “And she is a bitch. It's been three years, which feels like a lifetime ago, but I guess I still have some walls up when it comes to dating. I don't let many people get too close.”

"But sometimes the walls we build for protection can also end up isolating us," you say gently.

Chan nods slowly, his expression weighted with a mix of resignation and sadness. "I know.” His voice is strained with emotion. He looks away, sniffing as he wipes away the single tear that manages to escape his control. 

You reach over and give him a tight hug, holding him against your chest. You feel his body relax into yours, welcoming the protective embrace. He breathes against you quietly for a few minutes while you rub his back. You want nothing more than to just be there as a friend and soothe him, and he allows you to. 

“Okay, whoo!” he huffs as he pulls away, shaking his arms and head vigorously as if casting off all of his emotional demons. “Too many fucking emotions! No feelings involved, remember?” He chuckles softly as he attempts to recollect himself and lighten the heavy atmosphere. 

“Yup, I remember. Fuck feelings.” You smile at him, giving his hand one more squeeze to silently acknowledge his pain and the complications that come with emotions before letting go. 

“And not a word of this to anyone.”

“Not a word. Scouts honor.” You lock your mouth with an imaginary key and toss it over your shoulder. “No one will ever know that the notorious Bang Chan cried from a broken heart,” you say with a teasing smile.

A genuine grin spreads across his face as he recovers from the emotional moment. “Thank you.” He releases a relieved sigh. “Let’s get back to it then. Let me teach you how to give a hand job.”

Chan leans back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. "Alright, pay close attention," he says with a smirk.

He unzips his jeans and slides them down just past his hips, along with his boxers. His cock springs free, already half-hard. You can't help but stare, intrigued.

He lays back fully. You watch with curiosity as he loosely wraps his hand around his shaft. "Watch what I do," he instructs. Chan starts with slow, languid strokes, gradually increasing his pace. "See how I'm moving my hand up and down, gripping firmly but not too tight," he narrates. You watch, mesmerized, as his cock gradually swells and hardens in his hand. “And you can switch it up.” He varies his pace and grip, twisting his wrist on the upstroke. His breathing grows heavier as he pleasures himself. His head tips back and his eyes flutter shut as soft moans escape his lips.

You can't take your eyes off him. Seeing the usually cocky Chan so vulnerable and unrestrained excites you. He bites his lips as he focuses on chasing his release. The way his abdominal muscles contract with each stroke, the sight of precum beading at his tip, the rapid rise and fall of his chest… You feel yourself getting turned on just from observing.

After a few minutes, Chan's breathing starts to become more ragged. His hips rock up to meet the rhythm of his pumping fist. "Fuck, I'm close," he groans through gritted teeth. "That’s way too quick. I think I’m being turned on by having an audience... Here, you try." Chan takes your hand and guides it to replace his own. You wrap your fingers around his thick, hot shaft, mimicking his motions.

Chan hisses in pleasure, his hips bucking reflexively into your touch. "Mmm... yeah just like that," he encourages breathily. He covers your hand with his own, showing you how to stroke him. His cheeks become flushed. 

You gain confidence, pumping him faster, gripping tighter. He releases your hand and lets you work independently. Chan’s mouth opens as he pants, completely lost in ecstasy. His hips start to buck erratically. "Fuuuck, don't stop," he groans. Sweat beads on his forehead. 

You can feel his cock pulse in your hand. Keeping your gaze locked on him, you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum leaking from his slit.

"Oh god, just like that," Chan whimpers before saying your name. His whole body tenses, abs clenching. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna...," he chokes out before releasing a guttural moan. His cock erupts in your hand, spurting thick ropes of cum that coat your fingers and cover his lower abdomen.

You continue stroking him through his orgasm until he gently grasps your wrist to stop you. "Sensitive now," he pants.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t apologize.” Chan lays there catching his breath, his chest heaving. He props himself up on his elbows to look at you. "Damn... you're a natural at that," he says with a satisfied grin once his breathing returns to normal. “Not bad for your first hand job.” He nods his head in approval.

You smile, feeling pleased that you were able to pleasure him. “Why thank you, sir,” you say with a playful bow.

Chan grabs some tissues from his bedside table. He cleans your hand off before cleaning himself and tucking his dick back into his pants. "I think that's enough for today's lesson," he says with a wink. “Want to get dinner?”

“Oh god yes! I’m so hungry.”

****

A few nights later, you join Changbin at his frat house for their monthly movie night in their backyard. As the movie starts, you settle into the large hammock with him, nestling your back against his firm chest as he drapes the fuzzy blanket over you both. 

The movie plays in the background, but you find it hard to focus on anything but Changbin, his familiar scent – clean laundry and subtle cologne – enveloping you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, fingers trailing lightly up and down your arm. You smile to yourself, enjoying his affectionate touch. You feel protected and comfortable in his embrace. Like always.

His hand gradually makes its way to just above your diaphragm, fingers splaying as he caresses you through your shirt. You place your hand over his, interlacing your fingers together. 

About halfway through the movie, you feel a spark of excitement run through you as his other hand settles on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely slipping under the hem of your shirt, grazing your skin. You place your free hand over his, guiding it lower, past the waistband of your leggings. Changbin hesitates, his breath hitching slightly.

"It's okay," you whisper, turning your head to meet his gaze. “I want you to.” You see the flicker of desire in his eyes as you guide his hand to where you need it most.

Reassured, his fingers brush over your clit, tentatively at first, gauging your reaction. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the contact. His fingers slide down your folds and enter you, gingerly gliding into your wetness. You slowly buck against his finger. He takes the hint, applying more pressure as he picks up the pace.

Turning your head again, you meet Changbin's intense gaze in the dim light. He leans in and presses his lips to yours in a slow, sensual kiss. You feel desire stirring within you as the kiss deepens. Changbin's tongue dances along yours as he pulls you tighter against him.

You have to stifle a moan into his mouth as he sinks deeper into you. Your tongues dance together as the pleasure builds. You release Changbin’s hand and reach behind you, slipping your hand into his sweatpants and wrapping your fingers around his rapidly hardening length. You stroke him slowly like Chan taught you. Changbin groans into your mouth at your touch.

Changbin’s fingers curl inside, hitting just the right spot, and he uses his other hand to stimulate your clit, rubbing in tight circles. You stroke him in time with the movements of his fingers between your legs. You break the kiss as you melt into his touch, leaning your head back against his shoulder as you bite your lip and close your eyes. 

The hammock rocks gently as you pleasure each other. Quiet gasps and moans are lost in the sounds of the movie and chatter around you. No one notices as you bring each other closer and closer to the edge.

Your hips rock together subtly. The tension builds deep within until you shatter beautifully around his fingers. You grip him tighter as you cum, stroking faster. He buries his face in your neck to muffle his own moans of pleasure; his teeth sink into the soft flesh making you yelp. You’re learning that Changbin is a biter. His cock throbs and you feel him spill over your hand.

You stay tangled together, catching your breath. Changbin kisses you softly on your neck before withdrawing his hand. You clean each other up quietly.

You cuddle together in the hammock, your body still humming. Changbin wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your hair. 

"That was amazing," he murmurs. He kisses the top of your head and asks, "What's changed recently? It seems like you've been more open to exploring sexually together."

You turn in the hammock, careful not to flip the two of you out of it. You tilt your head up to meet Changbin’s gaze. "I'm ready for more with you, Bin. My heart belongs to you. I want to show you how much you mean to me. And I’ve been feeling more confident and open with physical intimacy."

Changbin smiles and caresses your cheek. "I'm so happy to hear that.” He presses a sweet kiss to your lips. "Look, I'm really glad you're finding your confidence, but I want you to know that I'm in no rush. I don't care if it takes another year or ten or twenty; I’d wait forever for you. Okay? I'll follow your lead."

"I know," you say, your voice catching in your throat. "And I... I really appreciate that." You lean in and kiss him deeply. As you pull back, you say, "You’ve been so sweet and perfect. It’s not lost on me what you’ve given up being in this relationship. That's why I want to reward your patience and understanding; I have something special planned for you for our anniversary."

Changbin looks deeply in your eyes. “I don’t need anything special babe, just you.”

****

As you wait for Chan to meet you in the student center, you receive a text message from Changbin.

Cuddle Binnie:

Can’t get you out of my head today.

Keep thinking about movie night. 

Hope your day is going well. 

You:

It is now. You always make my day better. 🥰

One hand job and that’s all you can think about, huh? 😉

Cuddle Binnie:

More thinking about my fingers buried deep inside 

you and the sounds you were making.

Would love to hear you moan like that again…

You:

Soon.

 Cuddle Binnie:

Any way you can change your plans tonight?

You:

Can’t babe. Tutoring session.

Cuddle Binnie:

I’ve waited this long. Guess I can wait another 

couple days.

You:

Why I adore you.

Cuddle Binnie:

I adore you to.

You bring your phone to your chest and sigh deeply, thinking about how much you cherish that man. When you look up, you see Chan enter from the cafe. A bright smile emerges on his face when he sees you. 

“Hey! Sorry I’m late.” He sits next to you, plopping his bag on the table. 

“Hi. Sooooo? How’d you do?” you ask enthusiastically. 

Chan grins, his signature dimples on full display. "Really well actually!” He zips open his backpack and pulls out a folder. He hands you the stapled pages from the center. “B minus! Up from an F! Thanks to you!"

"Channie, this is amazing!" you exclaim, smiling proudly as Chan beams at you, clearly delighted by his much improved exam score. “I knew you could do it.” You reach into your bag under the table and pull out a small, clear plastic takeout box containing a personal sized chocolate lava cake. You slide the dessert across the table to Chan. 

“No fucking way!” Chan exclaims as he pops the container open to take a big whiff. “I can’t believe you remembered this is my favorite. From Mamma’s Bakery?”

You grin and nod. “Yes. I do listen to you, you know.” You hand him a plastic fork. 

“Thanks.” Chan digs in eagerly, the warm chocolate fudge sauce oozing out as he takes his first bite. “Ugh, so good!”

“Of course! You’ve earned a reward for all the progress you’ve made,” you say warmly.

“I usually like my rewards in the bedroom,” Chan says with a smirk, his words laced with playful innuendo as he chews slowly. 

“Of course you had to make it weird. Don’t start with me,” you say with a side-eye, slapping his face playfully. “You’ll need to talk with one of your little friends about those types of rewards.” You start reviewing the exam. 

“What if I want to talk to you?” He teases, wrapping his full lips around the fork and pulling it out slowly. 

The action earns a knowing look from you. With a sigh, you reply, “Not cute. You know those puppy dog eyes don’t work on me.” It’s mostly true, but he’s just so damn charming. You return your focus to the exam, flipping to the next page and scanning over his work. 

“Why is that? It works on everyone else.” He eats another forkful while grinning at you mischievously.

You can’t help but to roll your eyes at his antics. “You’re just not as irresistible as you think you are, Bang Chan.” You ignore him and turn to the final page of the exam.

“Ouch!” He dramatically clutches at his chest in mock pain before eating another forkful of cake.

You place the exam in between the two of you. “All the points you missed were for really silly mistakes. I can tell you were rushing. What happened?”

"Yeah, you're right,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I got anxious during the test and spent too much fucking time on the first page. Before I knew it, there were only 15 minutes left. I fucking panicked, but I finished.”

"It's okay, we all make mistakes when we're stressed or rushed. The important thing is that you finished and you knew which concepts to apply where.” He nods in agreement. “And this just tells me that for your next practice exam, we need to focus more on time management.”

“Okay.” He nods his head in understanding. 

“Okay. Go through each question where you lost points and fix your errors.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He slides you the container, half of the cake remaining. After retrieving a pencil from his bag and setting it aside, he gets to work. 

You grab his fork and cut a small piece of the cake, placing it in your mouth. The flavors are decadent and satisfying. “Damn this is good,” you whisper. 

“I know right? You can finish it,” he says with a smile. 

You hesitate for a moment before taking another bite, savoring every moment of this treat. “No, it’s yours,” you insist, offering the fork back to him. He chuckles and shakes his head, gesturing for you to keep eating. You can’t resist taking another bite, the fudge melting on your tongue. Then, with a playful smirk, you cut a small piece and hold it up to his lips. “Here,” you coo softly. He looks up from his work, his eyes sparkling with amusement, and opens his mouth, allowing you to feed him. You go back and forth, alternating taking a bite for yourself with feeding him until the cake is gone.

By the end of the hour, you smile at Chan, happy at his progress. The student center is quiet now, most of the other students having already left campus for the evening. 

"Good work. We should probably get going; it's getting late," you say. Chan nods and begins packing up his things.

The two of you walk in comfortable silence back towards your dorm. His arm brushes against yours occasionally as you stroll along the sidewalk. The cool night air is refreshing after being cooped up inside all day. You pull your jacket a little tighter as a breeze blows through the trees overhead.

Chan has his hands stuffed in the front pocket of his hoodie, looking relaxed as always. "So…,” he says after a few minutes, “how are things going with you and Changbin lately?" he asks, glancing over at you with a little smile.

You feel your cheeks heat up slightly. "Really good, actually. We've been getting a lot closer and more comfortable with each other."

Chan raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Have you two... you know...," he trails off suggestively, his lips curving into his characteristic smirk as he holds up to two fingers and curls them in a come-hither motion.

You playfully smack his arm, trying to hide the small smile that tugs at your lips. “None of your business, sir!”  

“It’s absolutely my business! How else am I supposed to gauge the success of my lessons, know if they’ve been making an impact? Hmmm?” Chan's teasing tone is laced with amusement as he leans in closer, shaking his shoulders, eager for details.

“Oh, they’ve been making an impact…” You can't help but let out a giggle as you recount your recent escapades at movie night, feeling bold and exhilarated in sharing these private moments with him.

Chan's eyes widen in surprise. “Damn, that's kinda hot. Look at you!” He nudges your shoulder with his, a pleased grin on his face. “Already getting freaky in public. Makes me proud.”

“I learned from the best.”

“I am the best, aren’t I.” He flashes you that devastating grin. You roll your eyes. 

“How about you?” You playfully turn the question back to him, curious about his recent adventures. 

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. What escapades have you been up to lately?”

“Oh, this past weekend I had a date with a gymnast. She did some things that…. let’s just say I’ve never seen before.”

“Really? Like what?” Your eyebrows raise in interest. 

“She was riding me in a reverse cowgirl, while doing a backbend thing, so she was also kissing me at the same time. It was wild.”

You can’t help but wince slightly at the thought of the contorted position. “Sounds painful. I hope she stretched first.” Chan throws his head back as he laughs loudly. “Was it impressive enough that you’d fuck her again?” you continue.

He ponders for a moment before responding. “Probably not. Repeats tend to get….”

“Clingy?” you finish for him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, clingy.” He can’t help but to smile back in response. 

“You know, there probably are girls out there who would be happy to fuck you repeatedly without allowing emotional attachments.” You watch him as he thinks about it.

“Eh, I’d rather play it safe. You start to see someone more than once, they start to think you’re dating. Nah, fuck that! One and done!”

“Keep it simple.” You get it. He doesn’t want to run the risk of getting hurt again, not that he’d admit that’s the real reason. 

“Exactly.” He nods. 

A few minutes later, you and Chan arrive at your dorm room. After putting down your bags, Chan turns to you and says, “I’m thinking that tonight we can focus on oral. Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah. I’m fine with that.”

“Alright. Might be a good idea for us both to shower first. I know I’m stinky.”

“You can go first then, stinky.” You walk to the closet, retrieving a towel and washcloth from the top shelf for him. “Here.” You toss them at him.

While you wait for Chan to finish his shower, you sit at your desk and delve into the novel you had stumbled upon at the used bookstore across from campus. Minutes tick by until finally, you hear the water stop. A few moments later, the door opens and Chan saunters out, looking like a Greek god in human form. 

The towel wrapped snugly around his waist accentuates every defined muscle of his body, leaving nothing to the imagination. His wet blond hair is slicked back, making his face look even more chiseled and handsome. The steam from the shower still clings to his skin, giving him an ethereal glow in the dim light of the room. As you take in his striking appearance, you realize that tonight will be the first time you see him completely naked. 

“I’ll let you take a picture so you don’t have to rely on memory,” he says with a grin when he catches you staring. 

“Oh, shut up!” You add your bookmark to save your space, then head to the bathroom for your own quick shower. Ten minutes later, you rejoin Chan in the bedroom, wearing your black, fluffy robe. 

Chan is reclining in your bed, his legs out long, crossed at the ankles, and your book in his hands. 

“I didn’t realize you liked horror,” he states as he turns the page, not looking up. 

“I’m a big horror fan: books, comics, movies.” You sit on the bed facing him. 

He closes the book and places it back on the desk. “Very interesting.”

“Why is that?”

“You just constantly surprise me is all. Favorite book?”

“It, Stephen King. Read it when I was 12.”

“Oooooh, that’s a good one. I read it in high school. ‘We all float down here’,” he quotes in a deep voice, doing his best Pennywise impression. He sits up next to you.

“’And when you're down here with me...’,” you start, deciding to share your favorite line.

“’YOU’LL FLOAT TOO!’,” you and Chan yell simultaneously before breaking out in laughter.

“Oh man,” you say through chuckles. “So fucking good.”

“A fucking masterpiece,” Chan agrees. “And the remake….?” The two of you start talking animatedly about your other favorite horror books and movies, realizing that you have quite a few in common. Once the two of you have caught your breath after a thirty-minute discussion, Chan turns back to the business at hand. “You ready?” 

You nod, eager to continue exploring and expanding your knowledge.

He takes your hands in his and directs you to kneel in front of him between his legs. “I’ll guide you through some different things to try. First and foremost is that you should always take the lead. If you want to give someone head, you unbutton and unzip and reveal. Don’t ever let some fucker push your head into their crotch; it’s just rude. Plus, women in charge, women taking charge, are fucking sexy.”

“Got it. Should I take this off,” you say, gesturing to his towel. He nods. You gently lift the corner he has tucked in at his waist and pull it open, allowing the towel to fall behind him on the bed. His length springs free, already hard and at attention. 

“Go nice and slow at first; don't worry about taking too much in," he says softly. You lean forward, heart pounding, as he gently directs your mouth towards him. His fingers brush your hair back tenderly.

As you take him into your mouth, he inhales sharply, eyes fluttering closed. "Mmm, just like that. Use your tongue to explore... find the sensitive spots… but watch your teeth, so you’re not scraping."

Chan talks you through different motions – using your tongue, varying speed and pressure. You feel shy at first, but the excitement is stronger. Coupled with Chan’s gentle coaching, you gain confidence.

"The key is paying attention to your partner's reactions, listening to the sounds they make, and adjusting based on that.”

You follow his guidance, moving your tongue around his length and finding the spots that make him gasp or groan. You tighten your lips, you take him deeper, you flick his tip with your tongue. With each passing minute, you gain more confidence in your actions. Soon, he is moaning, praising how good your mouth feels. 

Chan runs his fingers through your hair, stroking affectionately, as he guides you through this new experience. The sensation of his touch combined with the taste and feel of him in your mouth is exhilarating. You can feel yourself getting aroused as well.

As you continue to pleasure him, Chan's breaths become more ragged and his grip on your hair tightens slightly. 

“I’m close to cumming,” he whispers. “You need to decide whether you want me to cum in your mouth or not. If it’s a no, just remove your mouth and finish by jacking me off.” You think about this for a second and ultimately decide to get the full experience. 

You refocus on your task. Chan’s moans become louder until he finally reaches his climax with a loud groan. You feel his warm load spurt into your mouth, surprised by the saltiness. It takes you a couple of gulps to swallow everything down, but eventually you slide your mouth off of him and sit back on your heels. 

Chan opens his eyes, then pulls you up to sit next to him on the bed, a satisfied smile on his face. “You did great,” he says warmly, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks,” you reply shyly. 

“We’re not done yet though,” he says playfully. “Now it’s your turn.” He unties the belt of your robe, and pushes it off your shoulders before gently laying you down on the bed. 

Chan gently parts your legs and settles between them. His strong hands caress your inner thighs as he plants soft kisses along your hip bone, working his way down. You feel a rush of anticipation as his mouth nears your most sensitive area.

"Just relax and enjoy this," he murmurs. You feel his hot breath against your pussy just before he makes contact. 

The first touch of his tongue makes you gasp, the pleasure so intense you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. He starts slowly, with soft exploratory licks up and down your slit. He finds all the spots that make you squirm and moan. When his lips wrap around your clit, you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair. You gasp and writhe at all these incredible new sensations. His strong hands grip your hips, holding you in place. 

"Oh god, Chan..." you pant, overcome by the building pressure. 

"Does that feel good?" he asks in a low, sexy tone. The vibrations from his voice make you tremble. 

You manage to moan a breathless "Yes."

"That's it, let me hear how good it feels," he encourages you. “The more sounds you make, the more you touch me, the better. It lets me know what’s working.”

He continues lapping at your clit, alternating between broad licks and tight circles. The pleasure is unbelievable; you've never felt anything like this before. You realize that the rumors about his 'magical tongue' are 1000% accurate. Your moans get louder as the sensation builds. 

He slides two fingers inside you, crooking them in the same come-hither motion he made during your walk as his tongue continues working your clit. He quickly finds your g-spot, sending sharp shocks throughout you each time he swipes it. You start rocking your hips, trying to force his lips closer, force his fingers deeper. The dual sensations quickly bring you to the edge and then tip you over – your back arches off the bed as the orgasm crashes through you.

You lie there panting, your body still trembling from the intense climax. You feel breathless and euphoric. 

Chan grins and wipes his mouth before kissing his way back up your body, making stops at your stomach, tits, and neck. Before he kisses your lips, there’s a pause as he looks directly into your eyes. For a brief second, his cocky facade seems to waver. There’s a flicker of something, a glimpse of vulnerability that makes your heart skip a beat. But just as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone. The shift leaves you feeling curious about what he’s thinking.

Before you can say anything, his lips find yours in a rush of heat and desire. The taste of yourself and the cake from earlier mingle on his tongue. You lose yourself in the intensity of his kiss; it’s like having forbidden fruit, and you can’t get enough. 

You allow yourself to continue indulging in Chan's kisses. His lips are soft yet demanding. One hand trails down your back, pulling you closer; the other cradles your face before moving to caress your side, your hip, your breast and everything in between. You tangle your fingers in his hair, drawing him to you. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate. All thoughts fade away except how good it feels to be wrapped up in Chan like this.

After what seems like an eternity, Chan pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. Something in his eyes seems different now. As he lies down next to you, you glance at the alarm clock and are amazed to see that the two of you have been making out for over an hour. You wonder how the fuck that happened.

The atmosphere in your dorm room feels cozy and intimate now. Chan trails his fingers up and down your arm absently as you both recover. You study his handsome face – the sharp jawline, the broad nose, the deep brown eyes beneath his dark brows, the full lips now swollen from pleasuring and kissing you. He really is unfairly good-looking.

As the afterglow fades though, you start to feel a bit awkward. This is supposed to be purely educational, no emotions, no entanglements. And yet... there's a definite connection between you two. An undeniable chemistry. 

You see a similar conflict reflected in Chan's eyes before he clears his throat and sits up slowly. "We should probably call it a night,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” you agree softly. From your perspective, you can acknowledge the connection because you know you really enjoy spending time with him as a friend. You hope it’s the same for him and nothing more, and that this make out session was just the two of you getting carried away in the moment. 

Chan rises from the bed and begins gathering his clothes. You take the opportunity to slip under the comforter to warm up your naked body now that his isn’t pressed against yours. As he pulls his shirt over his head, the muscles in his back and arms flex, and you take a moment to appreciate his athletic physique. He’s not as muscular as Changbin, but still nice to look at. 

He turns to face you while pulling on his jeans. "So, Saturday is…”

“Your birthday right?” you finish for him. 

He smiles. “Yeah. My 21st and my roommates are throwing a party at our house. It's gonna be lit – open bar, DJ, the works." 

You sense there's more he wants to say, so you wait patiently for him to continue. 

Chan runs a hand through his blonde waves in an effort to tame them. "Anyway, you should come.” He zips and buttons his jeans. He says it casually, but you can tell he’s nervous about asking. 

"I don't know Chan... I'm not sure that's such a good idea," you reply carefully. 

He nods, seeming to understand your unspoken concerns. "No pressure. I know it's complicated and all. But the invitation's open. I consider you a friend and it’d be cool to have you there.” He throws his backpack over his shoulder. “Feel free to bring Changbin too, if you want." You detect a hopeful note in his voice. 

You consider the invitation. Your thoughts swirl around your mind as you weigh the pros and cons of accepting. You break the silence with a hesitant response. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

A smile spreads across his face, revealing the dimples. "Great," he says, his excitement evident in his tone and expression. The corners of your mouth tug up into a small smile in return.

****

The bass from the rap song blaring through the speakers sends vibrations through your body as you enter Chan's packed house with Jess and Sam flanking you. The air is thick with the scent of beer and sweat, bodies pressed close in the dimly lit space. You weave through the crowd towards the backyard and the keg, your eyes scanning for people you know. Everyone is at this party; there are students from all the different schools and programs, as well as folks from the different social groups. You see several of Changbin’s frat brothers, who give you a nod as you walk by. Changbin decided not to come, choosing instead to continue studying for the MCAT. He was planning to take it in December. 

As you're refilling your red Solo cup at the keg, a warm arm drapes across your shoulders. You turn to find Chan grinning down at you, his dimples deeper than usual, his cheeks slightly red, and his eyes sparkling.

"You made it!" he exclaims, planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. The scent of tequila clings to him. "I'm so glad you're here."

His kiss reminds you of your last encounter. You force a casual smile. "Happy birthday, Chan. Looks like you're celebrating properly." You tap your cup against his.

He laughs, the sound rich and inviting. "Oh, we're just getting started.”

“Here,” you say, reaching into your tote bag and pulling out a small, rectangular package wrapped in black and silver paper. “I got you a little something,” you say, offering it to him. 

He takes the gift with a grin, his eyes curious as he examines it. “Oh wow, you didn’t have to,” he says.

“Open it,” you urge him.

He places the blue solo cup between his teeth to free up his other hand, then gingerly slides his finger beneath the taped seam and peels the paper back to reveal two books – Desperation and The Regulators.

“Stephen King!” he exclaims, taking the cup from his mouth.

“Two of my favorites,” you explain. “I hope you haven’t read them before.”

“I don’t think so.” Excitement creeps into his voice. 

“Okay good,” you reply with matching enthusiasm. “Two different stories, with the same characters who are actually different people existing in separate dimensions but fighting the same evil.”

“Woah, I must be drunk because I actually understood all of that,” he says with a laugh. “Sounds really fucking cool. Thank you.” He wraps his arms around your shoulders and gives you a tight squeeze. “This is really sweet.”

You can’t help but smile at his reaction. “You’re welcome,” you say softly, enjoying the feeling of his embrace. 

He releases you and looks over his shoulder. “Come on, I want you to meet my other roommates."

Chan guides you and your friends through the throng of people, his hand never leaving your lower back. You try to ignore the tingling sensation it leaves in its wake.

"You already know Min,” he says, ruffling Minho’s hair as we pass him and a couple other people lounging on the patio furniture. Minho shoves him away playfully in response. “Felix! Hyunjin!" Chan calls out when we reach the kitchen. Two handsome guys turn, raising their cups in greeting. "This is the tutor I was telling you about."

Felix, a freckled blonde with an infectious smile, gives you a knowing look. "Ah, so you're the one who's been occupying all of Chan's free time lately."

You feel your cheeks flush. "Just trying to keep him from flunking out," you joke weakly. Chan ignores Felix as he places your gift on the bookshelf.

Hyunjin, tall and striking, looking like he just came off of the runway at New York Fashion Week, smirks. "Well, whatever you're doing, it's working. He actually passed up on a date with one of the hottest sorority girls I’ve ever seen last week to study. I almost took him to the doctor!"

Chan rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Alright, alright. Enough embarrassing me on my birthday." He walks away from his friends towards the kitchen island, grabbing a chicken wing from a large foil tray. He turns back to you and leans against the counter. “No Changbin tonight?”

“He’s studying. MCATs. He said he might try to stop by later if he gets far enough.”

“Hmmm, cool,” he says with a lazy smile as finishes the wing and reaches for another one. “I forgot he wants to go to med school.”

You chat with Chan for a bit as the party rages on around you. Despite the noise and crowd, it feels like it's just the two of you in your own little world. He seems relaxed yet focused entirely on you, asking about how the rest of your week went and your plans for the weekend. The conversation flows effortlessly. More than once, you catch yourself laughing wholeheartedly at his quick wit, lame jokes, and poor attempts at flirting. 

It’s not lost on you, though, that there are lots of eyes watching the two of you. Several women have passed by trying to claim Chan’s attention, but he’s brushed them off. And other friends have stopped by to give him their birthday wishes. He is always polite, giving them hugs and high fives and chatting for a bit, but always turns his attention immediately back to you. 

After a while, you notice Chan's gaze drop briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again with a hint of longing. The air seems to crackle between you. Just then, Minho appears.

“It’s shot o’clock motherfucker,” he says, clapping his hands on Chan’s shoulders. “Time for number 8.” He starts to lead him away.

“Alright, I’m coming,” Chan says with a smile. He turns to you, his gaze intense. "Save me a dance later?"

You nod, unable to form words under the weight of his stare. As Chan is pulled away in the direction of the bar, your floormates descend upon you, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Spill," Jess demands, practically vibrating with excitement. "What's the deal with you and Chan?"

“What? There's no deal.” You use a toothpick to retrieve a meatball, popping it in your mouth. 

“Oh, come on. We might as well have been invisible. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. There’s something going on between the two of you.”

You take a long sip of your beer, buying time. "I'm just tutoring him. Plus, did you forget about Bin?"

Sam raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Tutoring, huh? Yeah right! That was some serious eye fucking come from his direction."

You laugh, hoping it doesn't sound as nervous as you feel. "Seriously, guys. It's strictly academic. And he’s fucking drunk; he’s looking at everyone like that."

Jess leans in conspiratorially. "Well, word on the street is that Chan hasn't been making his usual rounds lately. People are starting to wonder if he's actually into someone."

Your stomach does a little flip. "I'm sure it's nothing," you say, more to convince yourself than them. "He's probably just buckling down on his studies. You know he's at risk of losing his scholarship if he fails this class."

As your friends continue to speculate, your eyes drift back to Chan. He catches your gaze and winks, raising his shot glass in a silent toast. You smile and nod back before turning back to your friends. Though, you can't help but wonder if there's more to his recent behavior than just academic dedication.

The pulsating beat of the music draws you back to the present moment. You’ve just refilled your fourth cup of beer. Jess grabs your arm, pulling you and Sam towards the makeshift dance floor in the living room. "Come on, let's dance!" she shouts over the music. You let her lead you into the mass of bodies swaying and bouncing to the beat.

You lose yourself in the music, laughing with your friends as you dance together. A new song comes on and you feel strong arms encircle your waist from behind. Sam and Jess both raise their eyebrows. You turn your head and see Chan, his blonde hair now a wild mess, grinning at you with that disarming smile. He pulls you back against him, his body pressed close to yours as you move in tandem.

"Told you I wanted to dance with you," he says, his breath ghosting the back of your neck. “I’m the birthday boy, so I get what I want.”

You can't help but chuckle. You turn to face him. "I'm impressed you're still standing. What number are you on now?"

"Fourteen," he announces proudly, holding up his fingers in a wobbly 'V' sign. "But who's counting?" You smirk and help him pull up his pinky and ring finger, so that he’s now displaying four instead of two fingers. He laughs at his mistake.

As the two of you dance, you marvel at how he manages to move with such grace despite his inebriated state. The scent of his cologne mixed with alcohol envelops you as your bodies sway to the rhythm.

"So, how's the night treating you?" you ask, trying to keep a conversational distance.

Chan's eyes sparkle mischievously. "Oh, you know, the usual. I've been propositioned by at least five different girls already."

You laugh. "Sounds like a successful birthday to me. Why aren't you taking them up on their offers?"

He leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. "Because the one I'm really interested in hasn't approached me yet."

"Oh? Well, maybe you should go talk to her. If you're not too drunk, that is."

Chan pulls back, his gaze intense. "Maybe I should."

As the song changes to something slower, you find yourselves moving closer. Your bodies align, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You can't help but notice how his muscular frame feels against yours, how his hands on your hips seem to burn through the fabric of your clothes.

Suddenly, Chan's lips are at your ear again. "Want to know a secret?" he whispers, his voice husky. "I'm waiting for you to proposition me. You’re fun, smart, and fucking sexy as hell."

You throw your head back as you laugh loudly, assuming he's joking. Hoping he’s joking. To your relief, Chan joins in the laughter, but something in his eyes makes you wonder if there was more truth to his words than you'd like to admit.

As you're processing this, your gaze drifts over Chan's shoulder, and your breath catches. There, standing in the doorway, is a familiar figure that makes your heart leap for an entirely different reason.

Changbin has arrived at the party.

Changbin’s eyes search the crowded room until they land on you, a cute smile breaking out on his face. As he makes his way through the crowd, you can't help but admire how he looks in his fitted jeans and dark, short-sleeved button-down shirt, clinging tightly to his muscles. He's holding a bottle of very expensive tequila.

Your radiant smile causes Chan to turn to see what you’re looking at. You disentangle yourself from Chan just as Changbin reaches you.

"Hey babe," he says, leaning in to give you a soft, sensuous kiss on the lips that makes you blush a bit and your knees buckle. His eyes flick over to Chan.

"Changbin!" Chan calls out way too loudly for how close the three of you are standing to each other. "You made it!"

Changbin grins. "Couldn't miss the big 2-1, could I? Happy birthday, man." He hands Chan the tall, slender, and elegant honey colored bottle.

Chan's eyes widen. "Damn, this is the good stuff. You shouldn't have. You didn’t need to get me anything."

"A little birdie told me it’s your favorite," Changbin says, his arm sliding around your waist.

Chan's gaze flickers to the point of contact before he grins broadly. "Well, let's put it to use! Shots with the birthday boy?"

Before you know it, you're knocking back shots 15 through 18 with Chan, Changbin, Jess, and Sam. The tequila burns a path down your throat, warming you from the inside out. You watch Chan and Changbin talking and laughing together. It makes you smile.

Chan gets pulled away again, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. "Dance with me?" Changbin murmurs in your ear, and you nod, allowing him to lead you back to the dance floor.

As you sway with Changbin, your arms around his neck, you can't help but notice Chan across the room. He's with a busty brunette now, her lips attached to his neck, but his eyes... his eyes are on you. The intensity of his gaze makes your skin prickle with heat.

"Everything okay?" Changbin asks, noticing your distraction.

You force yourself to look away from Chan. "Yeah, just... a bit dizzy from the beer and shots."

Changbin's hands tighten on your waist. "Want to get out of here?"

You nod, grateful for the excuse. As you're leaving, you catch one last glimpse of Chan being led away by the girl, disappearing up the stairs towards his bedroom. The image stays with you as you and Changbin make your way back to your dorm.

Once back in your room, Changbin's hands are on you immediately, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. You melt into it, the taste of tequila still lingering as your tongues meet. His strong hands slide under your shirt, caressing the sensitive skin along your waist and up your back.

Your hands slip under his shirt, tracing the hard muscles of his back. His strong arms wrap around you, holding you close as the kiss deepens. All thoughts of Chan and his intense gaze fade away as you lose yourself in Changbin.

Changbin walks you backwards toward the bed, his kisses trailing down your neck. Gently, he lays you down, his body hovering over yours. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I've missed you," he murmurs, his voice husky, nuzzling into your neck. 

You inhale his familiar scent, letting it ground you. “It’s only been a couple days,” you whisper back. 

"I know. Tell me what you want," he growls, his eyes burning into yours as his hand moves between your legs and slides up your thigh before palming your pussy. You whimper, arching into him.

You bring his mouth back to yours and kiss him deeply before pushing him away from you. When he rolls onto the bed, you climb on top of him. 

“I want to make you cum,” you say seductively, although your words are a little slurred because you are slightly drunk. You sit up and reach for the waistband of Changbin’s jeans. You unbutton and unzip, then quickly slip your hand inside his boxers. You’re eager to practice your new fellatio skills on him. 

Changbin moans as your hand wraps around his hard length, stroking him slowly at first. You’re amazed at how much thicker he is than Chan, although the lengths are about the same. He watches you with dark eyes, his fingers tangling in your hair as you lean down to take him into your mouth.

The alcohol has made you brave and uninhibited, and you let yourself get lost in the sensation of pleasuring him. Your tongue swirls around his tip before taking more of him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

Changbin's grip on your hair tightens as he lets out a low groan. "Fuck." He says your name as he grunts, thrusting his hips up to meet your mouth. You continue to suck and lick him, figuring out exactly where to focus to make him unravel.

Changbin's moans spur you on, and you work him harder, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can. Your spare hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you deep throat him. His salty taste fills your mouth, and the more he moans your name, the more turned on you get.

"Oh... fuck, baby... that's it," Changbin pants, his hips bucking to meet your every motion. His hand in your hair tightens around the strands while the other grips the sheets beneath him, his knuckles whitening with the effort of restraining himself. His breathing is ragged and uneven as he thrust his hips upwards, and you know he is close.

Soon enough, he reaches his climax with a strangled sound emerging from his throat, spilling his hot seed into your mouth as you swallow every drop. He pulls you back up to meet his lips in a passionate kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

Breathless and satisfied, Changbin rolls over onto his side and pulls you close against him. "You are fucking amazing," he whispers in your ear.

A warm feeling spreads through you at his words complimenting you. And despite the alcohol still clouding your mind, it feels good to be desired in this way by someone who you have such strong feelings for.

As Changbin holds you in his arms, sleep soon takes over.

You wake a few hours later with a throbbing headache and an arm draped over your body protectively holding you tight. You smile softly, remembering the events of the previous night. When you realize it’s still dark out, you turn your body to rest your head on Changbin’s buff chest and fall back asleep.

When you wake again, you feel lips kissing down your torso. “Mmmm. Morning.”

“Morning, babe,” he whispers in between kisses. This is new, Changbin being proactive physically. But your adventurousness over the past few weeks has emboldened him. And you like it. 

“Can I use my mouth on you to make you cum now?”

“Yes. Please.”

Changbin smirks and continues on his southern journey. He tugs your shorts and underwear down, throwing them onto the floor, then settles between your legs. When his tongue finds your sensitive bud, you moan loudly. 

Changbin's tongue expertly flicks against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His hands grip your thighs as he continues to lick and suck you, his movements becoming faster and more intense.

You squirm under his touch, craving more. "Changbin,” you pant. He deposits kisses down your folds, and when he reaches your hole, he slides his tongue in and swirls it, causing you to jump from the unexpected intrusion. His grip tightens around your thighs, his fingers squeezing into the flesh, as he presses his nose against your clit then starts to fuck you with his tongue. It feels glorious. You can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing out on by taking it slow with Changbin. 

The walls of your pussy start to clench around his tongue, causing him to withdraw it, replacing it with fingers eager to thrust in and out of you. Simultaneously, he returns his mouth to your clit. He sucks it between his lips and alternates between flicking and nibbling until you can no longer control the motions or sounds coming from your body. Then your body suddenly stills; seconds later an explosion rocks through you, starting from your clit and spreading through the rest of your body. Changbin continues to suck your clit throughout the orgasm, causing you to see stars each time he pulls on it. Eventually, you have to push his head away from you. 

“Bin, please stop,” you whine in a whisper. He laughs, depositing one final kiss on the sensitive area before returning to lie next to you.

You turn on your side to face him, the two of you staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. The heat from his body seeps into yours. “I’m excited for more mornings like this,” he whispers, bringing his palm to your face. 

“Oh yeah?” You use your thumb to wipe your wetness from his chin. 

“Yeah.” A smile spreads across his face. “The prospect of waking you up every morning with an orgasm is exciting.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that.” You lean in and capture his lips in yours. The taste of yourself on him is intoxicating, and you can’t resist deepening the kiss, losing yourself in the moment.   

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[ineed-to-sleep]

Yk I don't think ai art will ever really substitute real art. Like I don't think a future like that is possible, and if I'm wrong, we'd be living in the saddest, most depressing version of reality.

The thing about ai is that it will never be able to tell you a story in the way that an artist who actually drew the image will. Even my old drawings I did at age 13 with the wonky poses and huge anime eyes could tell you more of a story than ai ever could, even if it was just a very human story about a kid who liked soulcalibur iv and wanted to draw her ocs. If I'd only been messing with ai back then instead of picking up a pencil, imagine how sad it would be to look back and realize the art said absolutely nothing about me or my personality or intentions or where I was at in my life and with my skills.

It might look pretty. Maybe. But that's it. The result is shallow. You can't read into it, you can't think about the person behind it, because it says nothing about them. It's honestly the saddest thing. I hate to think about a future where people only want to produce ai art because it just sounds so empty. You can see none of yourself and your tastes and your history in an ai produced image. I think that's what people mean when they say ai art is souless and has no human behind it, because even if a human used the ai tool to generate it, there's none of themselves in it.

Real art feels more like an inescapable mirror. An amalgamation of the things you love poured into every line and brushstroke. A frankenstein of everything in the visual world that has ever inspired or fascinated you, built up over a lifetime of learning and repetition. And the more you learn and the better you get the more it grows and the more of yourself you can see in it, the more it looks back and screams at you the story of who you are. If your art doesn't feel like a living thing your hands have birthed then what's even the point?

[calamitaswrath]

Arval Fireemblemwarriorsthreehopes and A Xenobladechronicles3futureredeemed were a targeted one-two strike against my gender identity, and I will never forgive them for it (affectionate).

[sysig]

Some scribbles :) (Patreon)

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Fursona moment

[harvestmoth]

ergrg rh h. rejuv….

[solarplanet2]

The Little Eldritch Creature

DCxDP Drabbles/Scribbles

Part 1(? Still undecided)

Danny had a lot to say.

Especially to Clockwork.

How dare he send him to another dimension without him knowing?! Especially when all Clockwork had said to him before being thrown into a portal is;

"Good Luck, Daniel."

Good luck? GOOD LUCK TO WHAT!?

Oh, once Danny comes home he will give that old man a saying to. And bit him. Yes! he'll bite his clocks! Let's see how he likes it!!

It's bad enough that he was thrown into a natural portal, but being reduced to a small thing at the size of a squirrel!?!?

He can't even do anything in this form!

Sure, he can use his powers but only to an extent. The only thing Danny could do was being intangible, invisibility and flying/floating.

Disgrace! He was supposed to be a king! A powerful being! He can't be reduced to small adorable thing!

Danny punched the ground in distress, already feeling the tears coming up in his eyes in distress.

Another thing he had noticed. Not only he was in a form of little creature, it seemed his mind and body is of a baby, a child!

He is FOURTEEN! almost fifteen! He can't act this way!

Danny let out a wail, punching the concrete floor in pure distress and helplessness. He wants to bite Clockwork! He wants to be mad at him and get him home! Everything is so big! He doesn't want to be small! He feels helpless! And weak! No! He wants to go home!

He wants to go home and see Jazz!

He misses Jazz...

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"WWAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!"

Red Hood pauses in his step once he hears a...very squeaky wail?

But it also made his pit rage react.

What the?

"Hood. Come in."

"Yeah. What is it, Oracle?" Red Hood signed in as he jumped over a rooftop, heading towards the wail.

"The satalites detected something in your area. Just about a few blocks ahead of you. It causes a static in the frequency."

Welp. There goes his answers.

"I'm already on it. There was some kind of Wail in my direction. Already checking it out."

"Hood, Wait for back up." Oh great.

"I'm already here." Hood scoffed at B as he landed down in front of the alley way.

"Hoo...?" Static came in the comms, making Hood furrowed his eyebrows. Whatever this is, it's effecting his comms.

Hood knew something was wrong once he stepped in the alleyway. The pits suddenly felt weird. Not the bad weird but weird notheless.

Worried. Go. Now!

Hood groaned. Alright. He had an urge to shoot someone.

The more Hood stepped in the alley way, the more he could hear something. A small sound, like a whine? A squeaky whine in the edge of this block.

Hood froze once he saw a familiar green by the end of the dumpster. Oh fuck.

So that's why the pit rage is reacting.

Fuck.

Grabbing his gun from the holster, he slowly walked towards the dumpster. He looked over and....

What is that?

It's small, smaller than Alfred the cat. White hair and ..is that a green tail?

Okay, whatever it was, it's glowing.

And shaking.

And crying.

Why is it crying?

The pits instantly reacted. Bubbling in his stomach like boiling. But Hood knew he wasn't angry.

It felt like it was concern?

But for what?

What is this thing-?

And it's looking at him.

Hood felt himself freeze at the Lazarus green eyes. Big and wide Lazarus green eyes. And fuck are those tears??

Hood doesn't know what to do.

Chirp!

It chirp.

Fuck that was adorable.

Focus, Hood! This is not the time to think such thoughts. He needs to comm the others. Comm B and--

Wait why is moving!?

HOLY SHIT--

CHIRP!!

•°•°•°•°•°

This guy reaks of ectoplasm.

No. This ecto is not good. This ecto is dangerous.

He needs help.

(I am thinking whether or not this needs a part 2 so don't be disappointed if there isn't that means no tagging)

(Edit: it has part 2)

[ghostfacd]

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙀𝙉, 𝙃𝙀’𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader

genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically

summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman

Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.

Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.

In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.

Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.

“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.

“Huh?”

“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”

“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”

Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.

“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.

“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”

“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.

- - -

The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.

“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”

Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.

“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”

Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.

Your hair is pretty today

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.

So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?

You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.

His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.

“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.

“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”

And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.

- - -

“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”

“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”

Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”

When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.

“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”

“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”

That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.

“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”

When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.

“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.

“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.

“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”

“And Pansy,” you add.

“And Pansy.”

- - -

When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.

“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.

“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”

He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”

“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.

“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”

You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.

- - -

“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”

Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?

“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.

“That’s why we have to do it.”

The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.

“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.

“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”

“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”

The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.

“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.

“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.

“Too pretty?”

“Well yeah,”

You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.

“Did you just-”

“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”

And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.

[rxmye]

" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .

He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.

From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.

However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.

As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .

Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.

Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.

Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.

Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.

'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.

He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"

Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .

By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)

University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.

Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."

He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.

"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"

He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.

Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.

None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .

Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.

And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.

Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?

A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.

But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.

The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.

Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.

Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."

Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.

You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .

Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.

After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

sukuna skipping gym to sleep in and later on does his workout in their living room, using her as a weight when doing push ups, may turn heated hehe

college Sukuna's masterlist

turned this into a college!sukuna drabble lmao sorry!! no smut this time, i wanted to elaborate a bit on sukuna's protectivness toward yuuji :)

You're humming a song from your studying playlist when you hear someone knocking at your door. You look at the clock you keep on your desk near a plant Yuuji gifted you last week. On the terracotta vase there's a scribbled note in the obvious handwriting of a child.

To: baby peach, but no more annoying screams when we play, please!

You smile. He always chooses to be baby mario when you play Mario Kart together because he doesn't want you to feel alone in case you're the only baby character. He's such a cute kid, you're lucky to have him as one of your almost-roommates.

You get up (it's still pretty early anyway) and stretch your back, hearing it pop. You open the door, and standing in front of it is the same kid you were thinking about.

"Hey," you wave at him, a happy tilt to your voice. You look at him shuffling and avoiding your gaze.

"Is everything okay, Yuuji?" you start getting worried. He mumbles something you don't hear clearly, so you make him repeat himself. He juts his lip out, then looks straight at your face.

"Can you take me to school please?"

You raise your eyebrows. Usually, this is a big brother kind of duty: where is Sukuna? Yuuji takes your silence as rejection and starts backtracking.

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, I can just go alone-"

"Sure, let me grab my purse and we can go," you stop him, changing your expression to one of calmness, ruffling his pink, unruly hair.

"Are you sure it's not a bother?" he asks you hesitantly. "Big bro closed his door and I can't seem to be able to wake him up... and I'm supposed to be accompanied by an adult..."

"It's not a big deal, Yuuji. I'll take you in my passenger seat, okay? We'll be there shortly," you reassure him, nodding.

"Thanks," he says, blushing, giving you one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen him do. Your heart melts a little, and he looks at you like you've physically hung up the sun shining outside.

When you get back home, you're not even able to get to your room when you find yourself being squished between the nearest wall and a hot, rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Where the fuck is my brother?" Sukuna grits out his teeth, breathing down your neck. You wince. He's controlling his strength, but he's still a mountain compared to you, and your ribcage is starting to hurt.

"Get off of me right now or I'm calling the police, Itadori."

He notices he must have been too rough and takes a step back, mumbling an apology while still looking at you menacingly. You pat your clothes, making sure there are no wrinkles before answering him.

"I took him to school. He told me he was being neglected by his own caretaker, so I had to intervene," you shrug.

"He did not say that. He doesn't even know the word neglect," he says, sighing. His shoulders drop and he takes on a more relaxed appearance.

"What's wrong with you? You've never gotten up later than 6 am," you ask him, trying to sound nonchalant, walking toward your fridge to make yourself a toast. The truth is, you're starting to get attached to him. In the last couple of months, you've created some sort of bond, and it's probably also thanks to Yuuji and his stubbornness in making you do things like you're a family. Just last night, he forced you both to make cookies with him because apparently his friend Megumi was coming to play this afternoon and "he wanted to make a good impression".

Sukuna, on the other hand, can be a lot. The majority of the time he nudges you to get you to move out of his way (he just does it to see your annoyed face, but he's not going to tell you that), huffs in your face when you say he hasn't cleaned his dishes from the night before, and flips you off whenever you try to have a civil conversation about who's turn it is to choose the film on Friday night. But he's also pretty attentive. It's not like he makes you notice it, but he does feel bad for you when you get out of your room after an all nighter because of your studies. He thinks you're annoying because you're always trying to pry into his private life, but when you're not home Yuuji always asks of your whereabouts. Yeah, that's definitely why he can't stop thinking about you laughing with the boy he literally raised. The boy whose disappearance was driving him insane this morning.

Because sure, Sukuna tells Yuuji he's a brat 95% of the time, and the kid yaps way too much for his taste. He also manhandles the kid badly, telling him he's way too weak to be called his brother, and more often than not Sukuna tells him he's adopted and that he'll kick him out as soon as he can. But you've seen the way he prepared soup every night when his little brother caught the flu in December—he's just full of shit. He'll never admit how hard it was to raise a brother he didn't want at 13, alone and broke. But he'll make sure the child never doubts of having someone to fall back into like Sukuna did since he was much younger than Yuuji is now.

"Didn't sleep well and I missed the gym," he responds, munching on an apple. You hum in acknowledgment, not turning around from the stove.

"You know that pilates class you suggested to me last week? I found their videos on YouTube. I was thinking of starting them today," you quickly change the topic. You know you won't get more than that; him admitting he didn't sleep well was already a win.

"Wanna start them with me, chipmunk?" he asks you. You turn around to slap his arm slightly.

"I told you to stop calling me that," you say rolling your eyes.

"No."

You whine. "Yes, by the way. I want to see you suffer like the men I see on TikTok."

"Come be my weight and I'll do pilates with you today," he suddenly says. You're biting your toast and you're so caught off guard that you start coughing up crumbles. He hands you a glass of water while telling you you're too fucking dramatic.

"What does it mean to be your weight?" you tentatively ask him when you can breathe properly again.

That's how you find yourself sitting crisscrossed on his back, gripping his shirt as hard as you can, while he does pushups and tries not to laugh every time you scream about him moving too much and almost making you fall.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[uravitypng]

soulmate hanta who is completely oblivious to that fact that he is your soulmate. everybody is born with a soulmate mark, a scribble of words that are the first words your soulmate utters to you placed somewhere along your hip. hanta sero who is nonchalant and chill about things that he doesn't realise he's already met his soulmate. they met on the first day of ua and he didn't even notice, and you... well you noticed but how could you tell him.

everyone's going around introducing themselves, he doesn't introduce himself though. your bag was neatly tucked away under your desk, already ready to start class when hanta somehow tripped over it, he caught himself in the last minute

"fuck, that could've gone really bad." he grinned at you and you were too stunned to speak, your body felt warm, like fireworks exploding and the warmth left over from sparklers their bright vivid colours flowing through you, you found your soulmate. you didn't get the chance to reply to him, an authoritative voice started speaking, aizawa sensei, and then class started.

you tried really bad to talk to him but he oozed of confidence and friendless, if the roles were reversed and you tripped over his bag you don't even think you would of been able to say something, you'd probably just rush off in embarrassment. he jokes around with everyone and you fade away in the background, you didn't even mean to, it wasn't your intention, you told yourself that when you started ua and started the hero course you'd put yourself out there more but that changed when the idea of talking to your soulmate was so daunting.

soulmate hanta who lays in his hammock with his arm of his face, groaning because you are just so adorable! and you won't talk to him, you're quiet anyway but around him it's like you don't say anything. he doesn't even know if he's ever heard you talk. he frowns at the idea that you won't talk to him because you don't like him, he wants you to like him, he wants you to talk to him! everything about you leaves him in a tizzy- the way you smile, your laugh, your anime pins stuck to your bag, how you got bakugou to open up to you even before kirishima. he can't explain it but he just wants to be near you.

you want to be near him, you want to ask him about his favourite manga, you want to know more about him but you conclude your soulmate wants nothing to do with you. you've only spoken to him once, a month into meeting each other, and he didn't say anything about your mark. he didn't have any reaction. you were talking to bakugou, arguing over who did better in the practical today out of the two of you and you're too involved in proving that you were better that you don't realise hanta and kaminari have walked up to you both. you've spoken to kaminari on a couple of occasions he's nice but a bit too complimentary to girls for your liking and you haven't said one single word to hanta, overthinking every little thing. "oi, you two which one of us was stronger today in our practical?" bakugou shouts over to them.

you don't remember kaminari's response, you remember hanta's, "i mean you're good bakugou but she's miles ahead of you." your heart soars, you don't think you've ever been so happy in your life. shouting ensues, lots of shouting, bakugou calling hanta blind and various other insults.

over all that you say, "thanks sero, you were great too," the end of your sentence gets quieter and you stutter more. they can barely hear you over all the shouting. hanta doesn't look at you or make any acknowledge of what you just said, like 'oh hey, that's what my soulmate mark says' nothing. he heard you but he didn't want anything to do with you. the rejection hurt but you knew something like this would happen, you never expected him to like you but you would've liked him to say something like 'i'm not interested but i still want to be friends with you.'

the lack of any acknowledge on his behalf made it clear to you and you don't want to disrespect his wishes, if he doesn't want to get to know you then you won't force yourself into his life. what you didn't realise is your soulmate didn't even hear what you said... he didn't reject you at all he just didn't hear.

five minutes beforehand he was almost dragging denki by his sleeve over to you and bakugou because he wants to talk to you. he's had this warm fuzzy feeling from the first moment he's seen you and it's just grown and grown.

soulmate hanta is buzzing now that everyone is moving into dorms because surely that means you'll have to talk to him.

soulmate hanta who inserts himself into your life. that anime pin on your bag? he's asking if you've read the manga. he's making teasing jabs at bakugou with you about how his cooking for everyone gives it away that he loves all of the class, bakugou always tells him to fuck off and you have a fit of giggles. he gives you ideas when he can see you're struggling and hit a road block with your hero costume support items. he'll swing you with him to the roof of tallest towers in the city and talk for hours until the sun comes up about the future and plans for being a pro. he's loud and sociable and brings you out of your shell to speak up when he can see that you want but are too afraid to, he's there to give you a push but also relax with you in the dorms when he can tell that you don't have the energy for everyone. he'll bring snacks and you'll watch films and he'll speak to you gently and soothingly that puts your mind at ease when you get overwhelmed. he'll read you manga while you rest your head on his lap and you'll get overly competitive when it comes to mario kart.

you don't understand why your soulmate had this change of mindset about you, maybe it's because you're all living together but now you have him in your life you're not jeopardising that. the time you share with everyone is amazing, and the time you and hanta share with everyone is amazing but when you're just together alone that amazing turns into perfection. you want to bottle up those moments with a glass and keep them forever.

falling in love with hanta didn't surprise you, you knew it would happen sooner or later. you never spoke to each other about being soulmates or relationships (you thought you knew why) you didn't engage in conversations with the rest of the class about it either. you didn't want to put hanta on the spot like that, 'yeah, i've found my soulmate guys, i spend every day with him but he rejected me. oh look! here he comes now, hi sero!' you were wrong though. it didn't happen like you thought it did.

soulmate hanta who isn't just called 'hanta' in your head but when you speak to him or about him, after eight years of knowing each other you've gotten past the use of family names. the first time he heard you speak it his heart skipped a beat. your heads were pressed together and you were under a blanket asleep. you both drifted off at some point during film night, it was time for you both to start joint patrol so you woke him up, whispering his name. you joined the same agency so that meant you liked doing as much joint patrol with each other as possible.

soulmate hanta who's never been in a relationship before and is a complete virgin. he doesn't care about other girls, not even to look their way for a night, all he cares about is you. the idea of even dating a girl riddles him with guilt over how he wishes it was you. hanta is fully aware that you've never been in a relationship either.

soulmate hanta can't bare to look you in the eyes and hear about the person you love or how you're yearning to find your soulmate. he couldn't bare that pain. the idea that you have someone out there- it kills him. in that sense he's insecure, he knows he should be supportive and ask about your soulmate, it seems that every other person has had at least one conversation about it but he just can't. you've never even had a relationship and he knows he should ask why but then you might ask him the same question and the reason would be- you.

the thought that his words may be written on your hip never cross his mind, he's never been in denial that he loves you but he never thought it was reciprocated.

the thought that he himself has a soulmate never, even for a second, flits through in his mind. he doesn't think he's met them and he doesn't care if he does. they won't be you.

next

[sysig]

Not going the best (Patreon)

[hiitsm]

Whispers of Desires

You and your girlfriend are navigating the tender stages of experiencing your first time together.

Whispers of Desires is for 18+ only.

This piece contains intimate conversations about sex, characterized by a mix of awkward, shy, and loving moments. It also includes a depiction of soft, slow, and tender sexual activity, with a focus on emotional connection and mutual care.

-

Note: I’ve spent a lot of time crafting this piece, and while it may be a bit longer than initially planned, I felt that each moment deserved the detail it received. I've adjusted it a little. I hope it meets everyone’s expectations. Thank you so much for the kind messages and support after the teaser. I appreciate it a lot.

-

The kitchen is warm with the scent of freshly baked pastries, the lingering aroma of sugar and butter mixing with the comforting familiarity of Alexia’s home. You stand at the counter, carefully folding a dishcloth, trying to keep your thoughts focused on the simple, repetitive tasks. The to-do list lies nearby, a silent reminder of the things you can control, and the one thing you can't seem to face.

You glance at the list, its contents scribbled in your neat handwriting:

To-Do List: 1. Clean up the kitchen 2. Fold laundry 3. Talk to Alexia about her sexual desires

Your eyes linger on the third item, the one you've been dreading. With a sigh, you quickly strike through it, the pen's ink cutting across the words as if that could erase the anxiety gnawing at you. You can’t bring yourself to talk to her about that, not yet. What if the rumors are true? What if her desires are something you can't fulfill? You don’t want to lose her, but you also don’t want to lose yourself in the process.

You’ve heard all the rumors about Alexia Putellas. That she loves to dominate, to pull her partners apart with a fierce intensity. That she revels in control, in the thrill of the chase. That her passion is raw and fast. Each whisper you caught only fueled your anxiety, a churning storm of nerves that seemed impossible to quiet. You tried to ignore them, to push the thoughts aside, but they lingered in the back of your mind, casting shadows over the love you share.

And now, with the possibility of taking the next step in your relationship looming before you, the fear has only grown. You’re scared to take that step, terrified that your desires aren’t the same as hers. What if you can’t match her intensity? What if what she wants is something you can’t give? The thought of not being enough for her, of failing her in some way, sends a cold shiver down your spine.

You start wiping down the counters, moving in a methodical rhythm, each swipe of the cloth offering a brief distraction from the storm brewing in your mind. The sponge glides over the cool surface, removing traces of flour and sugar, but the tension in your chest remains.

As you straighten up the scattered baking supplies, your eyes drift toward the small, framed photo on the windowsill. It's a candid shot taken on a sunny day, the two of you caught mid-laughter, arms wrapped around each other, the kind of joy that feels almost too good to be true. The memory makes you pause, your fingers brushing the frame lightly as you wonder if you’re letting your fears overshadow the truth of what you have.

The whispers, the rumors, they all seem so distant when you think about the woman you know. The Alexia who smiles softly at you over breakfast, who texts you in the middle of the day just to say she misses you, who holds your hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. But still, the doubts linger, making you question whether you truly know her as well as you think.

The front door clicks open, and you hear the familiar sound of her footsteps, steady and sure, as they approach the kitchen. You barely have time to turn before she’s there, her presence filling the room with an effortless grace.

“Hola, amor,” she greets you, her voice soft and filled with warmth that wraps around you like a blanket. She glances around the kitchen, taking in the clean counters and organized space. “Cómo va todo?”

You quickly grab the to-do list, folding it in half and slipping it into your pocket before she can see the items you’ve been obsessing over. “Everything’s good,” you reply, hoping your voice sounds more steady than you feel. But Alexia is already closer, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of affection and curiosity.

Before she can ask anything more, you close the distance between you, leaning in to kiss her softly. Her lips are warm, and for a moment, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, shared moment. She hums contentedly against your lips, a small, pleased sound that makes your heart flutter.

“Mmm, that was nice,” she murmurs when you pull back, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She switches to English, her accent making the words sound even sweeter. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer into the safety of her embrace. “What were you up to, amor?”

“Just trying to get things sorted around here,” you say, your voice quieter now, more intimate. “How was your day?”

“Busy, but good,” she replies, her voice a little softer now, as if the closeness between you demands a gentler tone. “I missed you, though.” The sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten with emotion.

“I missed you too,” you admit, your hand resting on her arm, tracing small patterns on the sleeve of her shirt. You can feel the steady beat of her heart through the fabric, and it gives you a small sense of calm. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Alexia’s eyes soften as she leans in for another kiss, this one more urgent, more filled with the longing that has been building up in both of you throughout the day. Her lips move against yours with a tenderness that quickly deepens into something more, a hunger that you feel echoing in your own chest.

Your heart races as you return her kiss, your fingers threading through her hair, holding onto her as if she’s the only solid thing in your world. For a moment, you lose yourself in the warmth of her touch, in the way she makes you feel safe and cherished.

But as the kiss grows more intense, a wave of anxiety crashes over you, pulling you back to the surface. You break the kiss abruptly, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Alexia pulls back just enough to look at you, concern etched on her features.

“Qué pasa?” she asks softly, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture. Her eyes search yours, trying to understand what’s going on inside your head.

You struggle to find the words, torn between the love you feel for her and the fear that’s been gnawing at you for days. You want to be honest with her, to share what’s been weighing on your heart, but the words stick in your throat, refusing to come out. You’re scared, scared that your desires don’t match hers, scared that what she wants is something you’re not sure you can give. And more than anything, you’re scared of losing her, of the possibility that this might be something that could drive a wedge between you.

Alexia waits patiently, her gaze steady and filled with a quiet strength that both comforts and intimidates you. She deserves the truth, but you’re not sure you’re ready to face it yourself. Not yet.

Alexia's concerned gaze remains locked on you as you struggle to find the right words. Your chest tightens with the weight of your fears, and you can feel your face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. The warmth of her hand on your cheek feels comforting, yet it only amplifies your nervousness. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

“I—” you start, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been... thinking a lot about us, and, um, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” You stumble over the words, each one feeling like a hurdle you’re barely able to jump. You clear your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I mean, I know we’ve been... close and everything, and I love you so much, but... but I’ve heard some things, and I—”

You stop abruptly, your hands gesturing awkwardly as if trying to physically grasp the right words. The shame of not being able to articulate your feelings is almost overwhelming. You glance around, desperately searching for something to focus on.

Alexia, sensing your distress, gently guides you towards the couch. “Come on, amor,” she says softly, her voice soothing. “Let’s sit down. You look like you could use a minute.” She leads you to the couch and gestures for you to sit, her touch light but reassuring.

You sink onto the couch, feeling a mixture of relief and dread. Alexia moves to the kitchen, her movements quick but purposeful. She returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you. “Here, drink this. It might help you feel a bit better.”

You take the glass, your hands still trembling slightly as you sip the cool water. Alexia sits beside you, her proximity comforting, yet her eyes are filled with an inquisitive tenderness. She reaches out and takes your free hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

“Whatever it is, we can talk about it,” she says softly. “I’m here for you.”

Feeling the pressure of your emotions building, you fumble for the to-do list you’d tucked away in your pocket. With a sheepish glance at Alexia, you pull it out and hand it to her. Her eyes widen slightly as she looks down at the list, and you see a faint blush spread across her cheeks.

“I, um, I had this list,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It was supposed to help me keep track of things... but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about... that last item.” You gesture vaguely at the paper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Alexia’s eyes dart to the list, and she blushes lightly as she reads the crossed-out line. The color in her cheeks deepens, and she bites her lip, clearly feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation. “Oh, um...” she stammers, her cheeks growing warm. “I see you’ve, uh, crossed out that part.”

You can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as you watch her reaction. The sight of her blushing and stumbling over her words makes your heart ache. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I’ve been hearing these things, and I didn’t know if we were on the same page.”

Alexia’s eyes soften with understanding, even though she’s clearly flustered. She reaches out, gently squeezing your hand in a gesture of reassurance. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression,” she says, her voice a little shaky but kind. “I really didn’t mean to cause any worry. I guess I didn’t realize how much those rumors were affecting you.”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, they’ve been on my mind a lot,” you admit. “I’m just scared that my own desires might not match up with what you want. I’ve always preferred things to be a bit softer, you know?”

Alexia’s blush deepens, but she quickly shakes off her shyness, her eyes meeting yours with a sincere intensity. “I understand,” she says softly. “And I want to make sure you feel comfortable with us exploring this together.” She pauses, then adds, her voice growing more confident but still tinged with a hint of awkwardness, “I, um, like to be in control and, well, sometimes a bit rough. But that doesn’t mean we can’t adjust things to fit what we both want.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you at her honesty. “Thank you for sharing that,” you say, your voice tinged with gratitude. “I really appreciate you being open with me. Can I ask you something? What do you like, exactly?”

Alexia takes a deep breath, her shyness melting away as she becomes more animated. “I, um, really enjoy taking the lead, feeling like I’m in charge,” she says, her eyes brightening with a newfound confidence. “But I also love hearing what you like, what makes you feel good. I want to make sure we both have what we need.”

Her willingness to adapt and consider your feelings makes you feel incredibly valued. You squeeze her hand back, your heart swelling with appreciation. “I like it when things are gentle and tender,” you admit, feeling more at ease now that the conversation is flowing openly. “It’s important to me that we both feel good about what we’re doing.”

After the conversation, the dynamic between you and Alexia shifts subtly but significantly. There’s a new warmth in her gaze, an added layer of intimacy that wasn’t there before. The initial awkwardness has melted away, replaced by a deeper understanding and a tangible current of desire that flows between you.

In the days that follow, the air seems charged with a new energy. You notice the way Alexia's touches linger a little longer, the way her kisses are filled with a gentle urgency that wasn’t there before. Conversations take on a more flirtatious tone, filled with playful teasing and soft, suggestive glances. The connection between you feels more electric, more alive, as if the boundaries between affection and desire have become wonderfully blurred.

One evening, after a particularly busy day, you find yourselves curled up on the couch together. The soft light of the lamp casts a warm glow around the room, creating an intimate cocoon where it’s just the two of you. Alexia’s head rests on your shoulder, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on your arm as you talk about your day.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about,” Alexia murmurs, her voice low and warm. Her breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. “I’m really glad we had that conversation.”

“Me too,” you reply, your voice soft. “I feel like things are... different now, in a good way.”

Alexia lifts her head, her eyes meeting yours with a sparkle of playful mischief. “Different how?” she asks, her voice taking on a teasing edge.

You smile, feeling a flush of warmth at her proximity. “Well, for one, there’s this new... tension between us,” you say, your words coming out with a hint of nervousness and excitement. “I feel it every time we’re close.”

Alexia’s smile widens, her eyes darkening with a mix of affection and desire. “I’ve noticed that too,” she says softly. She leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that quickly deepens into something more passionate. Her hands find their way to your face, cupping it gently as her kisses grow more fervent.

As the days pass, the physical connection between you both becomes more intense. You find yourselves stealing kisses whenever you can, your touches lingering with a newfound intensity. Each caress, each look, becomes a promise of what’s to come, a gentle build-up to the moment when you’ll finally give in to the desire that’s been growing between you.

With your heart full of anticipation and a touch of nervousness, you decide to make tonight special. Something that reflects the tender connection you both cherish. You spend the afternoon preparing, wanting every detail to be perfect.

The apartment is filled with the warm, inviting scent of your cooking. You’ve prepared a simple yet elegant dinner, something that you know Alexia loves. The table is set with your best dishes, a bottle of wine breathing on the side, and soft, flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over everything. The lights are dimmed, the apartment bathed in a warm, romantic ambiance that feels almost magical.

You’ve added little touches around the room. Fresh flowers in a vase on the table, the soft strains of music playing in the background, the living room rearranged slightly to create a more intimate setting. It’s a space that feels safe and inviting, designed to make tonight memorable.

As the time draws near, you catch yourself fidgeting with the edges of your dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, adjusting the candles on the table one last time. There’s a nervous flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and anxiety as you wait for Alexia to arrive. You want everything to be perfect, but more than that, you want to show her just how much she means to you.

As the final touches are set, you hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. You quickly smooth down the fabric of your dress, a soft blush warming your cheeks. You’ve chosen something special for tonight. An elegant dress that flows gracefully, making you feel beautiful and confident, even if your heart is still racing with anticipation.

When Alexia steps into the apartment, she pauses in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the sight of you. Her reaction is immediate and genuine. A wide, happy smile spreads across her face, lighting up her features. For a moment, she just stands there, staring at you as if she’s seeing you for the first time. The look of admiration in her eyes makes your heart swell with warmth.

“Wow,” she breathes out, her voice tinged with awe. “You look... increíble, amor. So beautiful.” She takes a step closer, her gaze sweeping over you with a mixture of affection and admiration. “I—I’m so lucky,” she stammers, her usual confident demeanor giving way to a shy, almost bashful expression.

You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at her praise, and you can’t help but smile shyly. “Thank you,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth from her words. The way she’s looking at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

Alexia’s gaze then shifts momentarily to her own outfit—casual training wear that she’s clearly worn just for comfort. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she nervously tugs at the hem of her sweatshirt. “Oh, I, um... I didn’t realize I’d be, uh, underdressed,” she stammers, her eyes flitting between you and her own attire. “I didn’t expect—”

You cut her off gently, stepping closer and taking her hand in yours. “You look great,” you say sincerely, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I love how soft and relaxed you look. I just wanted to make tonight special for you, for us. It’s not about the clothes. It’s about being together.”

Alexia’s blush deepens, but she seems to relax at your words. She looks into your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softening. “You really didn’t have to do all this, but it means so much that you did.”

Without another word, she leans in and presses a tender kiss to your lips. The kiss is warm and full of affection, a perfect encapsulation of the love and understanding that has blossomed between you. When she pulls back, her eyes are filled with a soft, loving glow. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she murmurs, her voice full of emotion.

Her words are reassuring, and you feel your nervousness begin to fade, replaced by a sense of calm. You lead her to the table, pulling out her chair before taking your seat across from her. The candles flicker between you, casting soft shadows on her face as she looks at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

Dinner is a quiet, intimate affair. The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared glances that say more than words ever could. The food is delicious, but it’s the company that truly makes the evening special. With each passing moment, the connection between you deepens, the unspoken promise of what’s to come lingering in the air.

After the last bite of dessert, Alexia leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving yours. “This was amazing,” she says, her voice low and warm. “Thank you for doing all of this.”

You smile, feeling a flush of pride at her words. “I’m glad you liked it. I just wanted us to have a night that’s... just for you, for us.”

Alexia’s eyes soften even more, and she reaches across the table to take your hand, her thumb gently stroking the back of it. “You’ve made me feel so special tonight,” she murmurs, her voice filled with emotion. “And I want to make sure you feel the same.”

The intensity in her gaze sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s a different kind of shiver than the anxiety you’ve felt before. It’s one of anticipation, of knowing that you’re about to share something incredibly intimate and meaningful with the person you love. You nod, unable to find the right words to express what you’re feeling, but knowing that she understands.

She stands, pulling you up with her, and with a gentle smile, she leads you into the living room. The atmosphere here is even more intimate, the music playing softly in the background, the candles you’d placed around the room casting a soft, romantic glow. Alexia pauses in the middle of the room, turning to face you, her hands resting lightly on your waist.

She looks at you with such affection, such care, that it takes your breath away. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice filled with concern and love. “We can take things slow, amor. There’s no rush.”

You nod, your heart full of love for her. “I’m okay,” you reply, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I want this... with you.”

Alexia’s smile is soft and full of warmth. She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, one that speaks of all the tenderness she feels for you. The kiss deepens slowly, her hands moving up to cup your face, her thumbs brushing your cheeks in a gesture that is both protective and loving.

As the kiss lingers, your hands find their way to her back, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. The room seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of intimacy. The fears and doubts that had once clouded your mind now seem distant, replaced by the certainty that this moment, this connection, is exactly where you’re meant to be.

When she pulls back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, you can see the love and desire in her eyes, tempered by the same care she’s shown throughout the night. “I want you to feel safe with me,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “And I want you to tell me if there’s anything you need, anything you want.”

You nod, your heart swelling with emotion. “I feel safe with you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your feelings. “And I want to be with you... just like this.”

Her smile is full of understanding, and she takes your hand, leading you to the couch where you’d spent so many nights talking, laughing, and just being together. But tonight, it feels different. There’s a sense of anticipation, of something new and beautiful blooming between you.

She sits down, pulling you gently onto her lap, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both protective and possessive. Her lips find yours again, the kiss slow and tender, her hands exploring your body with a softness that speaks of her care for you. You feel her breath hitch slightly as her hands move over the curves of your body, her desire evident but tempered by the gentle way she touches you.

You respond in kind, your hands moving through her hair, down her back, holding her close as you both sink deeper into the kiss. The world outside ceases to exist, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace.

Her lips trail from your mouth to your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, each one sending a shiver of pleasure through you. Her hands continue their gentle exploration, never rushing, always mindful of the pace you’ve set together. You can feel the tension in her body, the restraint she’s holding onto, and it only makes you love her more.

You shift slightly, straddling her lap, your hands resting on her shoulders as you look into her eyes. “Alexia,” you whisper, your voice filled with all the love and desire you feel. “I want this... with you.”

Her eyes darken with desire, but there’s also a softness there, a tenderness that reassures you. “I want this too,” she murmurs, her hands settling on your hips, holding you close. “More than anything.”

The moment feels like it’s wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and mutual affection. Alexia’s fingers gently trace the curves of your waist, and you can feel the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second.

Suddenly, with a playful glint in her eye, Alexia shifts slightly beneath you and starts to rise. You yelp in surprise, your arms tightening instinctively around her shoulders as she lifts you effortlessly from her lap. Her strength is both reassuring and exhilarating, a reminder of her athletic prowess.

“Whoa, careful!” you laugh nervously, gripping her tightly as she stands up. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she chuckles softly at your reaction.

“Relax,” Alexia teases gently, her voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you. I’m an athlete, remember?” She holds you securely against her, her muscles flexing as she adjusts her grip to make sure you’re comfortable.

With a tender smile, Alexia walks slowly towards the bed, her steps measured and deliberate. As she reaches the edge of the mattress, she carefully lowers you onto the soft surface. Despite her careful movements, you cling to her, your arms wrapped around her neck as if reluctant to let go.

She pauses for a moment, her eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of admiration and affection. Her gaze lingers on you, taking in the sight of you stretched out on the bed, your dress clinging to your form in a way that makes her eyes darken with desire.

A warm, affectionate smile spreads across her face as she looks up at you. The connection between you both feels electric, charged with an intensity that makes your heart race. Without breaking eye contact, Alexia leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. The kiss is soft and lingering, a promise of the intimacy to come.

As she deepens the kiss, she begins to lay her own weight down beside you, her body pressing against yours with a comforting warmth. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, syncing with your own in a rhythm that feels perfectly natural.

Her hands explore your dress, her fingers tracing along the fabric as she starts to unfasten it. You help her, your movements synchronized as you pull the dress up and over your head. The dress slides off with a soft rustle, leaving you in your underwear.

Alexia’s fingers trail along your exposed skin, her touch light and teasing. She smiles up at you, her gaze filled with adoration. “You look beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice low and sincere. The way she looks at you makes you feel cherished, every inch of you appreciated.

She then starts to peel off her tracksuit, her movements slightly awkward as she tries to juggle her clothing while maintaining her focus on you. You help her, your fingers brushing against her skin as you assist with removing the tracksuit. Her clothes fall to the floor in a soft heap, leaving her in a simple, form-fitting top and underwear.

With the room filled with a tender, expectant silence, you take a deep breath, your fingers hovering hesitantly above her skin. You let your hands drift toward her chest, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You want to trace your fingers over her beautiful breasts, but you hesitate, unsure if you’re crossing any boundaries.

Shyly, you lift your gaze to meet hers, seeking reassurance in her eyes. The vulnerability in your expression is met with a soft, reassuring smile from Alexia. Her eyes, full of warmth and encouragement, seem to invite you to continue.

“Está bien, amor,” she whispers in Spanish, her voice soothing and full of affection. She gently takes your hands in hers, guiding them with a loving touch to cup her breasts. The warmth of her skin beneath your palms is both exhilarating and comforting.

As you make contact, Alexia lets out a soft, breathy moan, a sound so beautiful and intimate that it sends a shiver of pleasure through you. The sound resonates deeply within you, amplifying the connection you share and making you feel incredibly close to her.

With a gentle yet assertive grace, Alexia begins to take more control of the moment. She shifts her weight slightly, pressing her body more firmly against yours, allowing her warmth and softness to envelop you. Her hands glide over your body with a tenderness that feels both exhilarating and reassuring.

“Just let me guide you,” she murmurs softly, her voice a mix of confidence and tenderness. “Tell me what you like, and we’ll explore this together.”

You nod, your breath coming in soft, uneven gasps as you let her lead. Her fingers trail down your sides, exploring your curves with a careful touch that sends waves of pleasure through you. She lifts her gaze to yours, searching for any sign of hesitation, and you respond with a soft, encouraging smile, giving her the silent permission she needs.

Alexia’s hands continue their journey, gently slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. She eases them down slowly, her movements deliberate and careful as she uncovers your skin. The cool air against your exposed core contrasts with the warmth of her touch, intensifying the sensations you're experiencing.

As she removes your underwear completely, she turns her attention to her own, her fingers deftly working to peel them away. The sight of her undressing, her body illuminated by the soft light, makes your heart race with anticipation. When she finally discards her last piece of clothing, she pauses, letting you take in the beauty of her fully exposed form.

Overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment, you slowly shift into a sitting position on the bed, reaching out to wrap your arms around her. The softness of her skin against your body is electrifying, and you hold her close, your breath mingling with hers.

You lean in to plant gentle kisses on her exposed breasts, your lips brushing against her warm skin with a reverence that conveys just how much you adore her. Each kiss is tender, filled with love and a desire to show her how much she means to you.

You then trail your kisses down her left inner arm, admiring the beauty of her tattoo as your lips make contact with her skin, adding a layer of intimacy and appreciation to the tattoo. You slowly and softly set you teeth in her soft flesh.

The sensation of your kisses and bites elicits a soft, appreciative sigh from Alexia, her body responding to the gentle affection. “I like that,” she murmurs softly, her voice laced with warmth and pleasure. “It feels so good.”

She continues to revel in the intimacy you’re sharing, her hands tenderly caressing your back as you continue to kiss her. The closeness between you both becomes even more palpable, each touch and kiss a testament to your deep connection.

After a while, with a loving and considerate touch, Alexia gently guides you back onto the bed. “Let’s take our time,” she says softly, her voice filled with reassurance. As she helps you settle onto your back, her gaze remains tender and attentive, ensuring you feel both comfortable and cherished.

Once you’re comfortably situated, Alexia positions herself above you with a graceful and deliberate motion. Her core makes contact with yours, and she begins to move with a slow, rhythmic motion. She rocks back and forth with a gentle, deliberate pace, creating a sensation that blends pleasure with the perfect amount of pressure.

Her movements are tender yet purposeful, each shift and glide against you enhancing the intimate connection you’re experiencing together. The rhythm she sets is both soothing and stimulating, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the shared moment of closeness. The feeling of her body moving against yours is a harmonious dance of pleasure and tenderness, deepening the bond you share and making each moment feel incredibly special.

As the pleasure builds, you finally allow yourself to be vocal about how good she makes you feel. Soft, breathy moans escape your lips, each sound a testament to the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. You find yourself unable to keep quiet, your voice betraying the immense pleasure you’re experiencing. The sounds you make only seem to encourage Alexia, her own movements becoming more attuned to your responses, amplifying the mutual pleasure you both are sharing.

As the pleasure between you builds, Alexia’s focus remains unwaveringly on you. Her eyes, filled with a mix of adoration and passion, roam over your face and body. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her voice tender and filled with genuine appreciation. “And you make me feel so incredible.”

Her words are a soothing balm, adding to the warmth of the moment. The pleasure between you becomes almost overwhelming, and in the throes of it, her movements start to quicken. The rhythm of her grinding grows faster, her passion driving her actions as she becomes more lost in the sensation.

In her heightened state of desire, Alexia’s hand reaches out and firmly grabs your right breast, her fingers pinching your nipple roughly. The unexpected intensity makes you gasp in surprise, your body reacting sharply to the sensation. Her eyes widen in alarm as she notices your reaction, and she immediately halts her movements.

“Oh mierda, lo siento, lo siento mucho,” she breathes, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Despite the sudden stop, the sensation had been unexpectedly pleasurable, and you find yourself blushing, feeling exposed but also intrigued. You look up at her, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. “It, um, actually felt good,” you admit shyly. “If you want to, you can continue.”

Alexia’s expression shifts from concern to a warm, relieved smile. Her eyes reflect a blend of affection and excitement as she takes your words to heart. “Are you sure?” she asks softly, her voice tender and filled with a gentle eagerness.

You nod, feeling a newfound confidence in sharing your desires. “Yes, I’m sure,” you affirm. “I trust you, and I want to experience this with you.”

With your reassurance, Alexia resumes her movements, her touch becoming more deliberate and attentive as she finds a rhythm that balances both pleasure and sensitivity. Her continued exploration of your body is filled with a renewed passion and care, ensuring that every moment is both thrilling and deeply intimate.

As the sensations between you intensify, Alexia’s movements become a rhythmic dance of passion and tenderness. Her body rocks gently but purposefully against yours, each motion sending waves of pleasure through you. She maintains a steady gaze, her eyes never leaving yours, communicating unspoken affection and desire.

“You feel so amazing,” she murmurs softly, her voice a tender caress against your ear. “I love the way you respond to me.”

Her words are a constant comfort, her sweet reassurances adding an extra layer of intimacy to the moment. She leans down to kiss you, her lips finding yours with a fervent yet gentle touch. The kiss is a melding of emotions, a silent conversation of love and longing that deepens with each passing second.

As the pleasure reaches its peak, her hands move with a delicate precision, enhancing the sensations and making sure you feel cherished and adored. She holds you close, her body pressed against yours, and the steady rhythm of her movements becomes a perfect symphony of shared ecstasy.

The culmination of your mutual pleasure comes as a breathtaking crescendo. You both feel the rush of release, a powerful and overwhelming wave that washes over you, leaving you breathless and blissful. Alexia’s soft, contented moans mix with your own vocal expressions of pleasure, creating a harmony that is both beautiful and deeply personal.

You kiss her tenderly, your lips moving in a gentle rhythm that matches the lingering waves of pleasure. The kiss is a promise of love and devotion, a sweet exchange that further cements the bond you share. Her hands cradle your face, her touch tender and reassuring as she pulls back slightly to look into your eyes.

“Thank you for being so amazing,” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine affection. “I’ve never felt this close to anyone before.”

Alexia’s eyes shine with a mix of love and satisfaction. “It’s because of you,” she replies softly. “You’ve made this so special. I love you so much.”

As the euphoria of the moment begins to settle, Alexia’s teasing smile makes a reappearance, her eyes twinkling with playful affection. She leans in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face before speaking, her tone light yet filled with meaning.

“I don’t stand a chance of having a normal life with you, do I?” she teases, her voice laced with warmth. “You’ve made me want to do this with you every single moment, exploring new things, finding out what we both like. We’re just getting started, and I’m so excited to explore even more with you.”

She punctuates her words with that little shy smile of hers, the one that always manages to melt your heart. It’s a perfect blend of her natural confidence and the sweet, awkward vulnerability that makes her so endearing.

You can’t help but laugh softly at her words, feeling both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed by the intensity of your connection. “Gosh, what have I gotten myself into?” you tease back, your tone playful but your heart swelling with affection.

Alexia chuckles, her smile widening as she leans down to kiss you again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. “Whatever it is, I hope you’re ready for it,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice carrying both a promise and a challenge.

“I am,” you whisper back, feeling a surge of anticipation for the adventures yet to come.

With her by your side, you’re ready to explore everything. Every desire, every emotion, every new discovery. As you lie there in each other’s arms, the future feels wide open, full of possibility, and you know without a doubt that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

As you hold Alexia close, the warmth of her embrace and the depth of your connection make you realize how unfounded your doubts had been. In this moment of intimacy and understanding, you know with certainty that your fears were unnecessary, and that what you share is stronger and more beautiful than you ever imagined.

-

Note: I realize that some transitions might not be as smooth as l'd like, and plan to refine them later. I just wanted to share this now, even though I haven't done a thorough grammar check yet. Please be gentle with your feedback!