#but the new design reveals are so fun

[glassrooibos]

The shady bug design is objectively hilarious and therefore I am obsessed

[spaghetticat3899]

When you absolutely despise something a lot of people like, and no matter what way you look at it you cannot see the appeal, but you know you can’t talk about it in public or else you’ll get dogpiled to hell and back, so you just kinda sit there frothing at the mouth like this

[eegasleega-will-change-this-l8r]

-OUR FOUNDER-

⚙ THE CHAIRMAN ⚙ OF COGS INCORPORATED EST. 2003 ---------------------------------

So I've never talked about this on here before, but Toontown was one of my absolute FAVORITE games as a kid (despite never having membership so being locked out of 99% of the actual game jlkjfsakj) Like it was absolutely formative for me, I drew the cogs a bajillion times and they inspired a ton of my own stuff later on (and still absolutely do) Then the game closed and Rewritten came out so I could actually play the whole game for the first time (haven't gotten anywhere close to getting to the end though) To this day I have an on again off again interest where once or twice a year I'll suddenly get absolutely smitten with it again haha

So, if you're also into Toontown, you'll obviously be familiar with the mysterious, unseen overarching villain The Chairman This is my own take on his design that I came up with a few years back ^^

We don't have much to go off of from the original game for what the Chairman might've been like, so I had a couple of different inspirations

Obviously the giant head in the Sellbot Factory, since those old Chairman pics with that head pasted onto a cog body were absolutely what I was most exposed to as a kid, but it's also not a 1:1 lift

In some of my earliest sketches trying to come up with the ideal design I tried making him look like he had the giant robot from the old installer video underneath his suit, so he had like lanky, cartoonish proportions, toonier hands, etc It looked really bad though and I couldn't do what I wanted with the head since it would've had to fit over the shorter, wider robot head, so I just ended up scrapping it (i do take some inspiration from the video for my vision of Toontown's story, but i've just scrapped the robot entirely) Oh I also gave him the eyes from the Field Office since I thought that could be neat, but it looked out of place so I simplified them to what he has now (they're still stylistically similar to the eyes on regular cog buildings, so i don't think i'm really losing any of the meaning behind them at least)

By far the biggest inspiration was when the FY11 plans got released

Holy FUDGE did this blow my mind when I saw it for the first time All those years as a kid of the Chairman not even being ACKNOWLEDGED except by the CEO's final words and a couple odd references in obscure magazines and whatever Desperately speculating and grasping onto all those tiny pieces of some mysterious, horrifically evil entity behind everything And then this??? This awesome, ominous silhouette?? Plans for something huge??? Seeing it is what drove me to go and draw him in the first place, it still gives me chills just looking at it

So yeah, I wanted mine to have that same aura of cold evil, that striking silhouette, while also having a bit more character to him Like most cogs are frozen in the same screwed up scowl, where there's not much room for expression If I could, like, make an actual model for him, I'd want him to have the same sort of capacity for different expressions as the toons have (even some you wouldn't expect from the head of the cogs)

He's ruthless, calculating, doing everything he can to maximize the profits and efficiency of Cogs Inc and expand their operations to the entirety of Toontown, with no regard for ethical business practices or the wishes of the people he plans to subjugate (But does it work? Is he happy?)

I'm absolutely gonna do an analysis of the cogs as a whole at some point (as long as my interest doesn't plummet for a little while longer), there's a ton of stuff I wanna get into about my interpretation of them as villains because oh my god I love them so much

OTHER STUFF - He's not as massive as the other boss cogs, but he's still absolutely huge (iirc the highest level cogs are all canonically like 8ft?? and he's got a LOT of height on them) - He's drinking oil in the pencil drawing - I happened to watch this video where one guy talked about the way the villain in Tarzan held a glass of wine and how it left a huge impression on him, so I just arbitrarily decided to emulate it in my drawing XD - Oh yeah a big reason for the main drawing in the post was that I really felt like I was getting too attached to a single style in my digital stuff (literally just using the same default pen tool for everything, never changing the size), so I wanted to force myself to try something new - I drew the frame myself, just kinda winged it so it's. not as good as it could be but it works fine I think

[badolmen]

Supermassive games made something that was almost perfect and then decided to make several much worse things before reeling it back to something decent that makes the same damn mistake the first game made without any of the first game’s charm and cleverness to make up for it. Like you’ve had the time to figure out this professional video game thing maybe you should start acting like it lol

[akkivee]

having a hitoya related crisis rn (he’s handsome)

[camping-with-monsters]

New Duck Duck Goose Character Teaser… have any guesses as to who this could be? Or… what this could be?

Maybe it’s obvious… maybe it’s not…

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[linkeduniverse]

Adding a new hero or princess to the cast introduces a whole new variable. Much like when TotK was released, it would have taken something extraordinary and mind-blowingly inspiring for me to make such a big change to LU. As for EoW, while it was a fun and memorable adventure through Hyrule, it didn’t quite reach the level needed to be a permanent part of LU. I really like this Link, but the story’s simplicity and lack of a first/second-person perspective make it hard to build on. Plus, this game is more about Zelda than Link, and if anyone were to be featured, it would be her. While EoW may not be groundbreaking, it’s still a charming and significant part of the Zelda universe. I’d love to give this Zelda a special role in LU later in the story. Either a special guest, a cameo or some sort of significant contribution to LU.

That said, I’ve already redesigned her for LU, and since she’s not a major character in the cast, I’m excited to share her now!

Design thought prosses: Most of the girls in LU haven’t been revealed yet, but some embrace their royal identity in their attire. This Zelda gave me the chance to redesign a princess without the usual regal aesthetics. Similar to zelda's blue maiden dress and Skyloft outfit this outfit was to have a more humble look that blends into everyday commoner attire. But In contrast, SS Zelda is vibrant, with Skyloft giving off a feeling of saturated, contrasting colors, much like their avian companions. EoW, however, has a more wholesome, toy-like style, and I wanted her design to reflect more light pastels with calmer saturations. Also the art style it'self in EoW and LA remake is very simple, a redesign didn't need much embellishments. I think after focusing on drawing the boys for so long, I was excited to explore delicate youthful femininity—so I went with a cutesy vintage-doll meets cottagecore mood board to set her look.

[screampied]

❛ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ HARLEYS IN HAWAII ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. it’s been almost a year with your sugar daddy and as a candied sweet surprise, he takes you on his private yacht. although—the thing that’s even sweeter is the ‘love’ chocolates you both try just for fun. after all, satoru’s always had a sweet tooth.

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, aphrodisiac chocolates, marathon séx, praise, dirty talk, overstim, dry humping, feral gojo, fīngering, cerv��x mentions, cunnilīngus, spīt, hair pulling, size kink, premature ejac, breedīng, petnames.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist.

“ah ah, no peekin’ sweetheart,” a husky voice purrs near the nape of your neck. your plump lips curl into a pout as he’s making you drag your feet toward wherever he was taking you to. the air felt coolly warm, so much so that it was humid. satoru told you to wear something comfortable and warm, specifically a sundress. “there we go, jus’ a few more steps. good girl,” and the rubber bottoms of your flip flops stomp against something hard—you’re assuming the rising platforms were stairs. your ears perk and twitch a bit at the sound of crashing waves and you start to grow curious.

“are you—”

“shhh, quiet baby,” he shushes you, and you feel various designer cold band of his rings dance against your skin. again, once you step into what seems to be some wooden platform, he stops you from walking, turning you to face another way. big hands cover over your eyes and your own hands before he gives your cheek a soft chaste kiss. “m’kay, ready to see your surprise?”

with a nod, he removed his palms from your face and your eyes widen at the revealed sight. a yacht, not just any yacht though, but a private one — the satoru gojo yacht that was probably worth millions. it was huge in person, and you don’t even realize the two of you are both in the middle of the ocean until seconds later. “satoru,” you sheepishly say, feeling a wave of butterflies thump through your heart. the older man’s got the cheekiest grin and he takes off his sunglasses, putting them over your face. “when you said ‘surprise’ i thought you meant like new earrings or something.”

“i can always give you those too,” he strokes your cheek, watching as you fail to maintain direct eye contact. despite having the tinted expensive lenses protect your eyes from the sun, it still shined bright—making you squint a little. satoru’s voice pitches low before he playfully lifts you up, fixing the back of your sundress. “but sweetheart, this weekend’s just about you ‘n me,” and once your arms cling onto him, he starts walking near the lower part of the rumbling yacht. “besides, i have one more surprise to show you. felt like spoilin’ you a bit more today.”

you were quite literally living in luxury. .

as if the outside of the yacht wasn’t breathtaking, just wait until you saw the master bedroom.

despite how you were slowly starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle, his lifestyle—you couldn’t help but be amazed at such royalties being given to you. his yacht was even prettier inside, but this was the norm for satoru. and with him, he had no problem sharing his luxuries with you, his favorite girl.

just for you and no one else.

but you couldn’t think but get trapped in your mind at certain thoughts plucking through your brain. you started to wonder what would have happened if satoru was never a passenger of first class when you used to work as a flight attendant.

you’d constantly wonder the what if’s, but of course you were always always grateful. it’s one of the many thing’s satoru liked about you, how you were always thankful without even saying it. you’d show it, even going far as to giving him gifts.

“imagine we lived here,” satoru hums, leaning back against the satiny cushioned pillows. the entire room was spacey, with rose-gold paint covering the walls. he brushes a thumb over his cocktail glass as he sits on the burgundy sofa. the slick floor’s a sheeny beige color, and in the background, played some old vintage noir.

‘sunset boulevard’, one of satoru’s favorites.

he preferred lots of silent films and adored more than anything when the two of you would watch them together. he’s got on a silk red robe, twirling a bit of his white shown chest hair with a finger. “life on the water. sounds romantic, yeah?”

“what if we drowned, ‘toru,” you mumble, stepping out of the bathroom. the floor was made of slick glass crystals that made up the smooth texture, and you then pause—staring at the white haired man. he’s pretty, manspread and laid back with his hair slickly parted. ever since he’s met you, he grew his hair out a little and it slightly flows near his shoulders a bit. still unkempt and parted, it gives him a more maturely modern look.

his dimples poke near the inside of his cheeks before he simpers. “princess, we won’t drown,” and he sets aside his glass. satoru’s bright eyes linger toward your sundress—one of the many he’s bought you within in the past month.

it fit perfectly, it’s a cerulean blue color that almost matches his eyes.

if it was anything he liked, it was to pick out your outfits, and of course—he’d let you do the same for him. “phew,” he whistles, eyeing you carefully. “you look gorgeous. like always,” he murmurs, averting his eyes away from the screen and now giving you his uninvited attention. your plush thighs cling together before you feel the room of the yacht grow abnormally warm. “oh, right. the other surprise i wanted to show you, c’mere.”

“okay,” you mumble, making your way toward him. satoru slouches back against the cushioned sofa, spreading his legs even wider. slut, he knew what he was doing with his robe slit halfway open, exposing his growing chest hair. a snowy white curl of hairs glue against his chest and you gawk further down toward his lengthy happy trail. god, you found yourself swallowing thickly the more you stared and you could see the smug grin forming against his thin lips. “what . . is it?”

“i remember a few weeks ago you said you wanted to try tabs chocolate,” satoru mumbles, and you watch as he pulls out a thin black cover of rich chocolate. your eyes widened.

he remembered?

you stare at the pricey covered casing, already smelling the cocoa from the wrap. it was true . .

you teased satoru about wanting to try tabs chocolate one day, just to see if it was really real. you were curious on if the chocolate really could help invigorate and arouse people in the bedroom. satoru shrugs, glancing at the cursive writing displayed on the candy. “. . so, i got it for us both. i don’t think it really works, by the way.”

with an eye roll, you plop down on his lap. a beefy arm snakes around your waist before you grab the slim package. “i checked the ratings online. ‘m pretty sure it works, satoru,” and he gives you a complacent nod with his hands raising teasingly. calling your bluff quietly, he watches you tear the plastic all the way open. his eyes follow your fingers and how they swiftly drag away at the nearly wrapped material. once everything’s removed, it’s an entire dark chocolate bar with three perfectly attached squares. even the smell was arousing. “do you wanna try it at the same time?”

“how ‘bout you feed it to me,” satoru coos, and you feel what you think is his leg prodding underneath you. “i’ll feed you yours, sweetheart.”

damn, even his sentences sounded vaguely dirty.

you felt a lump grow in your throat before you blink thrice, holding up the bar of candy. “f. . fine,” you huff, and you watch as his perfectly parted lips sprawl apart. at the same time, you both slowly feed each other a small bite of the chocolate. the moment the rich taste of maca cocoa and sugar falls onto your salivating tastebuds, you let off a soft hum. it’s sweet, but you remember reading online that the effects would take a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in.

satoru chews it, swallowing it and he scoffs. “honey, i think you just got scammed. nothing’s happening—”

famous last words. .

because not even thirty minutes later, satoru finds himself dived nose-first right between your legs.

he’s feral, on his knees for you and all. usually, satoru would shower you with lots of foreplay, kissing down your neck, your thighs, every part and inch of your body — but now, he couldn’t.

not when he felt so hot, his body felt like it was it was scorchingly on fire. and of course, satoru being satoru just had to lick your fingers after you fed him his single piece of chocolate.

you’re laid up on the sofa now, whimpering with a hand digging through his shaggy white locks.

satoru’s the most deranged he’s ever been, and you’ve seen him feral for you in more ways than you could count. he’s laying his tongue flat, lapping up your sweet folds, still tasting the chocolate on his tongue with the mixture of your own slick.

“f- fuuuck,” he’d huff, feeling his heart beat thump through his ears. it was barely even a big bite and he was like this. you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d be if he ate the entire bar.

you’re moaning, glancing out the window and taking in the breathtaking view of the dancing choppy waves staring right back at you. a pretty serene canvas of rotating waters—you found yourself getting lost at the sea, gazing at how the waters would violently crash against the bottom of the yacht. it’s a mesmerizing view. after a while, your eyes move back down toward satoru who’s still between your legs. he’s lowly groaning, slowly rutting his hips into the edge of the sofa. “ ‘s like the candy makes you taste sweeter.”

“don’t stop s- satoru,” you moan, making sure to keep a firm grip on his head. his pretty lashes were closed shut whilst he’s swirling counterclockwise circles against your puffed clit.

fuck, you felt a gasping shriek snatch out from the back of your throat once you felt him starting to suck. he was always messy - always.

tangled strings of saliva would dribble down past the corners of his lips, flopping onto your sweet cunt. satoru had the kind of tongue where you’d feel him everywhere.

he flicks it around everywhere, spelling out every letter of his name before spitting on it, licking it up directly afterwards. a palm smears his bubbling saliva before he laps it up again, thrusting his tongue in and out. “ooooh,” you’d squeal, feeling him wrap his mouth around your pussy. you’re twitching inside every few seconds and he feels your cute dramatic pulses. beryl blue eyes that blissfully shine against the sunlight flicker up at you briefly and he’s got that same smug grin again.

“mphm, pull on it,” he grunts, and you whine once he traps your swollen clit between his teeth, holding your throbbing nub hostage. satoru can feel himself getting more and more hard, all because of the sweet melodic sounds that left from your lips.

both lips, on one end you’re hysterically moaning and the next, you’re squelching repeatedly.

his favorite thing to listen to—satoru’s favorite place out of all the places he’s taken you to, had to be between your thighs.

at his words, you weakly give him a soft tug, grabbing a nice handful of his perfect locks and he gets tugged forward. “good girl,” he huskily grumbles, resuming to lick two long stripes up and down against your cunt. forever more, he’s savoring your syrupy taste that lingers on his tongue and dribbles from the chin down, moaning from the aftertaste of the chocolate that just won’t go away. “god, this view’s even prettier than the ocean,” he licks his lips, and you feel yourself pulsate once he breaks away for a split moment to catch irregular breaths.

satoru swipes a thumb over his naturally glossed lips, whistling against your pussy just to feel your sensitive nub throb on his tongue even more.

“oh, she’s a cutie,” he rasps, white brows pursing together. he pulls out two long fingers, preparing to delve them inside. “so pretty ‘n all soaked just for me,” and you moan, your thighs curling around his shoulders. squiiish, the moment he’s easing his lengthy thin fingers inside, you gush out a bit right on him. you were indeed wet . . sopping.

you were already a bit drenched from before, and with the chocolate, you felt even more aroused. it felt like being on a rush - a sugar rush.

satoru huskily coos, delicately curling his fingers further inside before he reaches your g-spot within just two inches of a stretch. “there it is, there’s my other favorite girl.”

“sato—fuucckk,” you drag out your pathetic words, gradually moving his head to side against your sopping cunt with one hand. he’s got his mouth full, stuffed, and his entire face was just flushed from being squished between your thighs. “like that, s- suck my clit, baby.”

“baby, huh?” he mocks your sudden pet name, feeling your fingers comb through his messy frosted strands. embarrassment washes over you and he chortles, finding your reaction to his teasing downright adorable. you whimper as he’s still vigorously scissoring long twin digits inside of you. as your stomach submissively caves in, you start to gnaw on the bottom of your lip. “aw, don’t be shy. i like bein’ called petnames too, y’know,” he whispers against your cunt, watching how easily you soak up both fingers.

your folds couldn’t help but drool. streams of your own slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers.

with a rosy flat tongue, he slurps you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers out - only to push them right back in.

as your eyes squeeze shut, you start to feel your teeth clench and shatter together from the rhyming pressure.

there, once the fat tips of his fingers poke against your g-spot again, and again, and again. .

that was all it took for you to let off a cute three second shriek. abruptly, a sharp twisting coil snaps within you and he feels your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp.

“fuck, fuck,” you whine, feeling his lukewarm breath continue to ghost against your clit. you couldn’t stay still for the life of you—it was as if every muscle in your body snapped once you came, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened.

“ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and satoru’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

you’re making a mess out of him and he’s eating it up - like always. his pointed chin’s got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your glimmering slick running down. with a echoing ‘pop’, he slides his fingers out of your cunt, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. “ngh, s- satoru you’re so nasty.”

“only nasty for you, sweetheart,” he cheekily whispers, leaning further in to give your cunt one single kiss.

it’s a soft passionate smooch that makes you throb against his lips. only satoru gojo could make out with your pussy right between your thighs. you’re speechless—you could feel yourself still shaking from your recent orgasmic release, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

satoru’s pretty azul eyes remain fixated on your wet cunt before he gives it one final suck of departure. “mmph,” and his growing white stubble starts to drench even more all because of your sweet slickness that smears against your the lower part of his face. “fuck, ‘m still hungry. ‘s not enough.”

as your legs twitch and remain spread apart, you’re gasping for air as you watch him take breaths of his own to collect himself. “don’t pout,” he huffs, sitting up to close the distance between you both. with his hair all ruffled and tangled—he grinds himself into you. “oh. you want a taste too, pretty?”

“y- yeah,” you nod with droopy eyes, feeling the same amounts of sheer heat.

satoru’s flushed just as much as you, and it seems like as he’s leaning into you, he’s moving in slow motion. once his lips crash onto yours, you moan into his mouth.

he wastes no time shoving his tongue down your throat, pulling on the straps of your sundress. you feel a wolffish grin curl against his lips once his tongue delves even further into your mouth, feeling you part your own away. satoru can’t help but grind against your warm body, feeling your legs hook around his waist. even the touch—the skin against skin makes you both even more hotter. it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you were about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

“fuck, ‘toru,” you whimper between sultry sloppy kisses, loud teeth smacking and clashing together. you slowly drag a hand down his hairy chest, twirling a frosty strand around your finger.

the taste — it’s candied sweet.

the rich cocoa still lingers on both twisting tongues and you moan, feeling him nip his teeth near your lip. “you’re perfect,” he gruffly purrs, his voice having its same deep rasp. his kisses become more and more filthy and rough and he playfully licks underneath your chin. “mhm, woman you drive me crazy.”

satoru was still very much hard though—very.

you could feel his boner poke from his robe, it must’ve felt painful.

he was so hard, it outlines against the silky woven fabric the more he grinds into you. satoru couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he’s leaving an invisible trail of kisses all down the slope of your neck, sucking against your tender exposed skin. you always tasted sweet than any chocolate he’s ever eaten.

but it’s to his surprise once you lightly push him back against the cushioned sofa.

“hmph! hey,” he falls back, white strands sticking across his perspiring forehead. satoru eyes you with a bewildered look, wondering what’s with the sudden bratty glint shining in your dilated irises. “that was rude, princess. oughta—”

“lie back,” only two words and he was at your very command. satoru couldn’t lie, whenever you had the audacity to give him orders . . he found it hot.

even if it didn’t last that long,

the white haired man slouches back at your command, roving his eyes down your body. he studies the pretty sundress that hugs against your curves and the way you move.

satoru ogles openly as you made your way on top, straddling him before slowly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders. “relax satoru,” you’d breathe, and he groans the moment electrifying friction kneads against his lap. all because of your hips swerving on his raging boner, you cause a spark that ignites within you both. to say you were a ‘mere’ tease was an understatement. “like that, hold my hips baby,” and his big hands gradually move toward your rocking waist. you start to jerk against him real slowly, casually grinding yourself on his lap. you swerved around, guiding his hands to where you wanted them to go.

“oh, s. . sweetheart,” he choked out a nervous laugh, his boner steadily arising underneath his robe.

for a moment, the two of you forget that you’re both on a yacht, surrounded by nothing but smooth pretty bodies of water. it was as if it was only you and him in the entire world. time stood still. it was like you were moving slow, and the more your body moved, the slower time got.

satoru stares at the way you playfully sway your hips against his. he groans, the cloth from his robe that protects his hardened cock continuing to rub against his skin. “you’re killin’ me here. let me touch some more at least.”

“ask nicely,” you lean in closely, pressing a kiss near the left side of his cheek. satoru shivers from your touch, his jaw feeling heavy. such a tease, but that’s what he got for spoiling you rotten.

with a near pout, satoru grumps. “please, sweetheart,” and his big hands glide toward your active waist anyway. “let me touch my pretty girl while she’s movin’ her cute hips on me,” and his playfulness returns within a blink of an eye. you hear the cheekiness in his voice and he leans in to nip a kiss near your neck. “fuckin’ brat.”

“then do something about it.” you whisper with a coy grin, resuming your salaciously addictive movements against his lap. satoru grunts, his brows contorting together in frustration before he grabs your wrists, pinning them up.

satoru’s now got you in a secure grasp and a hand snakes down your waist, giving your ass a soft squeeze. a jiggling nice chunk goes into his palm before he seductively licks up your neck. “i plan to, little girl.”

and he did.

one second you’re on his lap—the next, you’re lightly being slammed on all fours, cheek smushed ruthlessly against the padded sofa.

you squeak out a tiny gasp, feeling him practically tear your sundress apart. satoru groans, staring at your bare ass cheek that’s peeking out of your loose clothing. you’ve got a bratty smile twirling against your lips but it soon fades away once you feel that.

his fat tip—satoru brings it up towards the opening of your sopping cunt, smacking it three times against your folds. “you’ve got some nerve, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, hearing your broken whimpers return.

god, even your pussy felt warm against him. fiery electricity surges through you both and he hisses, watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock wholly.

he’s so big, you knew it and you didn’t even have to face him directly. all you had to do was feel.

his tip was round and thick, reddened with a rosé flushed color. satoru tosses his head back, feeling your pussy twitch against him as a sloppy greeting of its own.

“heh. she’s so excited,” he breathes through clenched teeth, already breaking a sweat. the yacht continues to slowly create distance in the background but at that point, no one was even thinking about the yacht. “so. fuckin’. wet.”

he smacks his weighty dick against the outside entrance of your pussy, hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds. as he’s hitting his tip against your cunt, he purposely punctuates his words with tap.

“satoruuuu.” you’d moan, desperately aching for him to just go in already. you wanted it, and the searing heat you felt coursing through your veins just from the chocolate made you throb ten times more.

“i know, baby. i know,” he coos in a rough voice, talking over your whiny babbles. panting heavily,

satoru glances down once his leaking tip finally disappears inside of your drenched cunt. you let off a shaky breath, even going so far as to wriggling your ass back against him just so he could hurry the fuck up.

“tsk. so impatient,” he snickers, velvet straps of his robe skimming against his skin. satoru’s got a bulbous fat curve and with a single hand, he gives his cock a few stroking pumps.

one, two, three . .

he groans once a bit of loose skin from his coral colored frenulum peels back. as he’s stroking himself every few milliseconds, a prodding vein pokes against his palm. bristles of white hairs that glue against his thickset base tickle against his skin.

“mhm, gonna take my time with you. now let’s see that cute arch. just like we practiced.”

moaning, your back raises slightly with your knees cowardly burying themselves into the sofa. “mmph,” and he lightly pushes your head further into the cushion. his tip was so close.

he’s hitting you from behind with his thrusts slowly, on purpose.

he wants to hear those sweet sounds cry out from your lips. satoru grunts once he’s finally going in, thick cock stretching around your elastically stretched walls.

you’re so soft — sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. satoru groans, giving his chiseled hips a single shimmy before pursing his lips together.

“thaaat’s it, hngh. this pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen once you feel his plumpish tip delve further between each corner of your slick cunt. he’s fucking thick, and within seconds later he was already inches in.

once his flushing crown disappears inside of your cunt, you whimper once he gives you one single thrust that causes your entire body underneath him to quake. “fuck, ‘s so sensitive,” satoru nearly whines, still feeling tingly from the saccharine flavored treat. he’s panting heavily, mouth dangling open and all. “how’s it feel, sweetheart? ‘m not going too rough, yeah? talk to me.”

“good. feels good, ngh. don’t stop, ‘toru. harder,” you beg, a hand of yours reaching from behind, crawling near your ass. you eye satoru through your blurred peripherals as you turn slightly around and he flashes you a sleazy grin.

that’s the look he makes before he’s about to fuck you stupid,

that’s the look where his eyes were hooded and half lidded, panting heavily like a dog with multiple thin strands of white hair sticking across his forehead.

you were fucked, literally. .

“hah, wasn’t gonna,” he moans, feeling his cock grow insanely sensitive. it was in a way he couldn’t explain—so hot, his head swells up once he starts to move.

as he’s trying to create a decent rhythm with his hips, he’s oscillating deeply into your core. sloppy thrusts pound into you with such carnal vigor that he’s basically humping against your cunt.

every few elongated seconds that dragged out, his tip mercilessly smacks against that target buried deep inside your cunt, striking a perfect bullseye.

‘x’ makes the spot, and his dick always knew where to locate your clit — every single time.

it doesn’t take long before satoru loses it, and he’s losing his momentum. his movements consisted of want and ache.

the head of satoru’s cock was turgid, slowly dragging in and out of your puffed clit as you damp up his entire length. you whimper, feeling the legs of the sofa rattle and jitter from underneath you both. he’s got mean deep strokes that leaves your jaw dropped, toes curled, tummy churning all from how good he’s hitting you.

you’re cutely smothered into the pillows with your mouth just pried open, forming a small gasping ‘o.’

every stroke, every hit, every smack against your ass, you felt like you were on cloud nine - the lewd dirty version no one ever talks about though.

satoru’s got a big hand tracing down the curvature of your waist that later trails down toward your ass. he can’t help but feel against the thin fabric of the sundress, tempted to just rip it off it you. he’d be happy to buy you dozens more anyway.

“fuck me, fuck me satoru,” your eyes roll crisscross, and your entire body feels itself repeatedly ringing from the merciless slaps of skin hitting against each other with determined might to reach his well awaited potency.

he’s bucking his hips against you, watching as tears of sweat start to race down the cracked valley of your ass. “fuck, ‘toru, satoru—ah!”

“heh, sweetheart the walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru playfully bonks the back of your head. your moaning falters, and he chuckles mid-thrust. “aw, don’t be embarrassed,” and you let off a soft gasp once he presses his sharp hips all the way against you. a beefy arm wraps around your neck in a safe hold before he grunts in a husky whisper right up against your ear canal. “ ‘m sure the captain won’t mind, be as loud as you want.”

“s- shit,” you whimper, already starting to feel your thighs struggle to stay afloat. satoru towers over you completely, rutting into you from behind with irregular toe-curling hits.

he’s meanly jackhammering you further into the sofa, the screeching sounds of the seagulls outside growing louder. the loud reverberating claps of skin that roughly ricochet against skin makes your ears ring like bells on a wedding day.

as he’s feeling his cock tighten inside of you, he’s now got you in prone bone. he’s so close to you, hovering his weight behind you with his sculptured hips glued to your ass.

satoru’s thrusts now go slow, slow but deep, making sure you feel, savor, and devour every single inch. “ugh, that spot ‘toru, right fuckin’ there. ‘m close.”

a hand goes over your mouth and you let of a muffled, ‘mmph?’ as he’s still fucking you raw.

satoru’s popping his bulbous crownhead in and out of your stuffed pussy before lowly groaning once coolly air briefly sets against his skin.

“watch that mouth,” and you whimper, feeling his free hand grab near your neglected breasts. you lean into his touch, feeling a bit of your own saliva dribble onto his palm. a thumb of his swipes against your perked nipples that poke through your sundress and you let off a muffled moan. “such a filthy pretty mouth. ‘s a shame,” and he leans in more, licking a stripe near your neck. “i don’t think girls with colorful mouth’s should cum. do you think they should?”

as if on cue, your head raises up and down, doing a cute attempt of a nod as he’s still got your mouth covered. satoru’s still thwacking his fat cockhead into your g-spot continuously until your brain’s short circuiting.

“awww, yeah?” he hums, pressing a kiss near the back of your head. and oh, he’s cocky again, deepening his hits against your core. removing his arm from around your neck, he raises your hips up just a little bit for a more better and thorough angle. “too bad, because i wasn’t talkin’ to you, silly girl.”

and you moan even louder once a rude buck of his hips snaps into you at such untamed speed. you gasp right away, your entire body trembling beneath the sofa. “talkin’ to her,” and as his hand drags down your back, he maneuvers a few circles against your stuffed clit.

you’re whimpering, occasionally glancing out the window. the waves continue to crash against the port side of the yacht background — beautiful.

you’d never get used to the view. the salty smell of the sea wafts against your flaring nostrils as you’re literally being stuffed full of cock, eyes rolling back with your back completely arched. satoru’s so big, splitting you open with his vast mushroom tip so easily. “god, she’s got so much to say today, listen to her cute ‘lil sentences,” and he briefly pulls out, hearing your cunt ‘pop’ out a word or two, wetly squelching from the continuous thrusts.

satoru’s throbbing cock drooled from the sides with seeping white droplets of pre-cum and he groans once he feels himself tightening yet again.

“fuck mee,” and he takes a second to stare at your pretty cunt that’s got your folds slobbering with so much honeyed glistening sap. “aw, she said no,” he teases, dragging a sleazy thumb down your pleading saturated entrance. your mess quickly soaks against his fingertips, making him just as wet as you. satoru feels you writhing against his touch, begging for him to finish and he chuckles. he tsks, wrapping a hand around his shaft before another hand wraps around your neck. hmm. does the pretty baby deserve it? after that ‘lil stunt you tried to pull on me?”

“s- satoru, please,” you moan, feeling your weak legs gradually buckle against the fuzzy furniture. you swallowed whatever pride you had left, feeling your mouth suddenly grow dry as the anticipation grew.

you were so close - right there. practically. gnawing on the bars of your enclosure.

he knew had to tease you, keep you on the edge of your toes. with your ass cutely trying to raise up and move back against him, you let off a sobbing moan. “lemme cum, please. ‘m sorry.”

“no you’re not, sweetheart,” he whispers. aligning himself again between your sniveling slick slit, his wide pink tip leisurely starts to stretch throughout your gummy walls yet again. oh, that part. the way his hefty hanging curve twists its way inside, you felt like you were tasting literal ecstasy. “are ya?”

“no,” you moan, still having a bit of brat left in you.

satoru snickers, the expensive band of his watch gliding against your hip as he holds you in place.

“at least you’re honest,” and you shudder, feeling him lick a long stripe up your sensitive jugular. his girth was so broad and wide, you feel him dip every inch inside of your cunt and you were sure you were gonna break.

he treated you like a doll—specifically a rag doll, tossing you and fucking you where it hits good.

but, fuck was satoru was ruthless.

he’s unapologetically sloppy with his thrusts, making you grind back into his pivoting hips. as his sack hangs back against his loose skin, he smears his lax lips together, groaning at how effortlessly you were squeezing against him.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too, sweetheart,” and as his body’s still pressed right against yours, he hoarsely grunts lowly against your ear. “give it t’ me, make a mess on ‘toru, baby.”

his words poured into your ears like silk, smooth like honey. each sentence he spoke had an effect on you, more than the love chocolates ever did . .

you felt your pussy sporadically convulsing just from his raspy out of breath tone alone.

satoru’s rotund cockhead continues to bruise against your cervix, sloppily kissing around each spot until you’re practically screaming out his name. “louderrr,” he purrs, kissing down your neck once more.

the coarse smacks of skin continue to echo against the walls of the spacious yacht bedroom and satoru grunts.

oh, he’s whipped.

his hips start to slow down by each second, and you feel that pressure within you finally snap. “that’s my girl, thaaaat’s it,” and he talks over your whimpers yet again, creating a wet trail of kisses down your shown shoulder blade. “atta girl, atta fuckin’ girl.”

the both of you groan in unison and after a while, he shortly follows. satoru’s cock was so full, he’s snapping his hips into you at such a wicked speed that you could barely keep up. his stamina was simply unmatched.

you let off a whine and so does he—seeping his teeth into your neck. “hngh, fuckin’ shit.” and as he grabs both of your hips, slowly reeling you back into him - he’s cumming, hard.

thick ropes slowly spurt into you, spraying right near your womb and he lets off the sexiest moan.

it lasts for a good seconds, and it’s like he got defeated — your pussy being the opponent. .

satoru’s washboard abs flex beneath his rope as his head tosses back. it’s an almost growl that leaves his lips. his sensitive tip locks into your tightening entrance, still feeling ribbons of satiny ropes dribble into you at such a snail like pace. it’s so much.

he’s staring to pant more and more as globs of sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead. satoru’s cock shrivels up inside of you and he gives your ass a soft spank. his sweltering hot crown stills itself inside of your cunt as he stays still, lavishing in the sensitivity of both slick mounds enjoy the sticky feelings of fluids combining in lewd felicity. both bodies rut against each other and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll back.

“s- satoru,” you quietly whimper out, feeling the bubbles of creamy wads ooze down between the fat crevices of your thighs.

a lustrously white ring forms around his tender base before he gradually starts to pull himself out. you’re still reclined, feeling your entire body heat up even more. your sundress was still pulled up to your waist and he groans, tugging at the fabric with one hand, another touching his own mess he just created that’s spilling down your thighs.

“such a sloppy girl,” he huffs, out of breath. even still, he’s cumming inside and merrily fills you up to the very brim.

you moan once he slides back in, only to pull his aching tip right back out out. it’s another loud ‘pop’ that resounds through each of your twitching ears.

holding a sharp breath, satoru’s cock slathers itself against your drooling pussy before smacking it against your folds yet again. “look at that, ‘m never gonna get tired of that sight.”

satoru ends up fucking you stupid for hours on his yacht.

in all positions—any position, he moved you toward the bed, folding your poor limbs like a pretzel while his cock continued to massage through your walls by stretching you open. satoru made sure you never forget the barrage he made inside with his lengthy length.

satoru was always whipped for you, but it’s like with the addition of chocolate, it made him ten times more feral. ten times more feral for you.

he’s hungry, you could see the look in his eyes. how his pupils were blown, how he made sure to give you romantically deep yet nasty strokes.

his body would rock against you in sync against your own while the yacht that carried you both continued to judder in the background.

he pumped you full—stuffing you entirely again, and again, and again . . simply put, he was virile.

like he said before, you drove him crazy, and he was starting to think to himself, maybe . . just maybe, you weren’t just his sugar baby anymore.

each time he’d spray a generous amount of cum inside of you, he’d let out a loud guttural groan. he’s weak from how warm you feel from the inside, and your moans for him to keep going only fueled him. satoru’s a literal animal, manhandling your body and fucking you everywhere he possibly could in the master bedroom.

the sofa, the bed, the wall, against the mirror. .

his favorite,

he loved to wrap a hand around your throat, making you stare at your lewd facial expressions right with him. the way your glossed lips would part and your eyes would widen once he makes you stare at the slight bulge that pokes against the lower part of your tummy. he’d serenade something to your ear in a purring deep voice like, “feel me there, sweetheart?” making you touch the exact spot he was hitting.

a pearly stream of his seed dribbles outside of your folds and now, he’s got you in nothing more but an intimate mating press.

“eyes up here,” he rasps a soft panting tone, gently prying your hands away from your face.

he’d just coaxed you through yet another orgasm, and your entire body felt like it just ran a marathon. you were sure by now the effects of the chocolate had worn off for the both of you - it did.

but with satoru, he looked like those many rounds didn’t even faze him. not one.

he’s still lodged inside of your cunt, his tip spitting out thick ropes for the nth time of the night and he groans. your eyes glance down his snowy happy trail and glance at his sharp v-line that’s tensing up from the stimulation. “you . . took me so well,” and he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

“mmf—” your arms wrap around him, entrapping his skin waist with your legs. his toned body rocks itself into you for just a few more times before he steadily pulls out. his flaccid cock rests against your bare tummy and you moan, tasting the last few remnants of sugar that lies on his tongue.

satoru’s heart beats rapidly, and once he opens his eyes to stare at you, he knew you were dangerous.

tresses of white hair glue against your skin once his forehead lightly pressed against yours. within seconds, after he found himself pulling you into another deep kiss, something was different. this time, out of all the kisses you shared with him, you think this one meant something more.

it was far more slow and passionate, his body rocks against yours and he groans in your mouth, feeling your hands scratch down his soft skin. you leave a painting of scratches all down his back, a canvas he can’t wait to look at later.

as your tongue continues to tangle with his, strands of spit form into translucent cobwebs before he starts to suck on your tongue. “god, woman you drive me insane,” and he pulls away, completely out of breath. his pretty lips were all glossed and swollen, and he cups your face. “sweets, i—,” he cuts off, locking eyes with you.

his heart was pounding,

telling him to say it - just say it.

but the way you gave him that look . . your arms remain wrapped around him, limbs tangled with each other and he lets out a soft sigh. delicately, he pulls out and watches you let off a soft moan once you were now clenching around nothing.

“ah,” he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of your quivering lip. “i . .” and a lump gets caught in his throat.

you strum a thumb against his undercut, a simple gesture that you knew would always soothe him.

the white haired man leans into your touch, his heart practically yelling at him to just spit the words out before he speaks against your lips, slowly lifting up your leg, kissing your ankle.

“i think . . i think ‘m in love with you, sweetheart.”

[gachaparadise]

finishing up the Loufu story chapter and it's making me feel insane (positive)

[silkentine]

Wha--?! Silk finally finished her fem Zoro design after (checks notes) literally 6 months since she made the canvas in procreate?

I'll break down design thoughts and share some fun bonus pics under the cut:

I LOVE long hair on Zoro, I think that was the first change I wanted to implement. Zoro in canon actually has a really interesting relationship with gender dynamics which (if for some reason you're reading this and you haven't watched One Piece) can seem out of left field for the "dumb brute" character. His rivalry with and reverence for Kuina suggests he doesn't adhere to the idea that women are weaker than men. Later on, however, during his confrontation with Monet and Tashigi during Punk Hazard, his hesitation to slash her down reveals that he's subconsciously over-protective of women because he thinks they're inherently weaker. I actually don't have any problem with this character trait, I think it makes him feel more real as a person and he obviously gets shit-talked enough about it in the story itself. But how did I want to reflect these beliefs if Zoro had been born a woman? Easy: internalized misogyny and applying value to herself via her appearance.

My version of Zoro grew up wanting to fight with swords but her only chance of entering the dojo was to work under the proprietress, Lady Shimotsuki to maintain the property, cook meals for the male students, and eventually be a good wife to the current heir, Kuina. She learns that, to get what she wants, she must be the ideal woman, even if she stays up all night training swordsmanship with Kuina when she isn't supposed to. He treats her love for swordplay seriously and treats her like an equal, which sparks a bond between them and eventually leads to Zoro's goal of becoming the world's greatest swordsman after his sudden, accidental death.

After years of intense training (now that Lady Shimotsuki admits that she'll need a new heir and Zoro is the closest thing she has) Zoro's finally old enough to leave and begin her journey. She starts letting go of the idea that she has to look pulled together to be taken seriously because she can just kill anyone who looks down on her. Her clothing falls into disrepair, she wears outfits that help her move in combat, and she starts tossing her hair up into messy, knotted buns under her bandana. Even so, she keeps her hair long like rolling hills of grass. (At least during pre-timeskip. She lops off her hair to prove to Mihawk that she's serious about being trained.)

I've put her in a thin sweater that she stitches (poorly) back together after her first interaction with Mihawk. (I kept one sleeve because I was inspired by the santoryuu Nami that Oda drew that one time.) I also wanted to girl-ify the ubiquitous haramaki so I picked leg warmers for her because I think they're sufficiently "dated" enough to be kinda analogous with his old man belly warmer. I also love gyaru fashion, sue me.

Here is a screenshot of her as a blonde:

And here is a sketch of her post-timeskip where she's fully embraced her butch nature:

Hubba hubba, am I right?

Check out my tag "girl piece original design" to see more of my genderbending art! Next post, I'll put all my East Blue Crew designs together! I can't believe it's taken this long but I AM SO HAPPPPPYYYYY

[ambrosiagourmet]

I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).

However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.

She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.

And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?

Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.

So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.

Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:

It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.

Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:

Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.

And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:

That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.

It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone

So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.

Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.

But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.

And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.

Izutsumi...

is a foil to Falin.

Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.

Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.

And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.

In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.

She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.

[mrsbarnesblog]

clothed in confidence

masterlist

requests are open

summary: how Rafe reacts to baddie! reader wearing short/sexy clothes

word count: 0.5k

warnings: none

Rafe doesn't care what type of clothes you wear until you like them and feel comfortable. 

Maybe at first he was kind of insecure about you wearing something revealing but it took one honest talk with you to know that he has nothing to worry about. He quickly understood that it’s who you are and you do it for your own pleasure. 

The longer you date, the more he gets obsessed with the way you dress. Rafe loves watching you get ready for a night with friends or for a date with him, especially when you choose your cute outfits and ask for his opinion. He has to admit that those little skirts and dresses look delicious and so fucking sexy on you. 

When you show off your smooth legs? Or when you wear something that barely covers your ass and hugges your body like a glove? He gets hard every single time he looks at or thinks about you, so he understands why it makes you feel more confident. 

Rafe is possessive and cocky, we all know that, so when you two go somewhere and everyone starts to drool over the way you look, he subconsciously puffs his chest and pulls you closer to his body.

He knows that you’re his. He knows that he’s the only one who can not only look but also touch you so he doesn’t care about random stares anymore. You’re always the hottest girl in the room, even when you don’t try to get too much attention and he loves that for you.

His gaze is constantly drawn to you because he enjoys seeing how you react to all of your girl friends' compliments and fussing—the way you become shy, smily, and just absolutely adorable. You then look back at him and he just gives you a proud smile and a “told you” look. 

Rafe buys you literally everything your eyes lay on, from expensive lingerie to high heels and designer clothes. He thinks that the best way to repay him is with your brightest smile and kisses all over his face. You never intentionally ask him to spend his money on you, he just does it because he loves to spoil you and he loves when you put on a mini fashion show for him afterwards. 

The only “no” for him is when people see too much of your body, for example, with that one completely see-through lace dress that you bought just for fun. Needless to say, he didn’t let you get out of the house wearing it. 

Or that time when you accidentally walked into the living room of your house, looking for Rafe, but faced him and a few of his friends sitting there and gawking at your new, extremely sexy, lingerie set. That day, he kicked everyone out of the house within a second and made sure that you knew that this type of show was only for him. 

[realprissygirl]

❥ — maramaxxing:

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ becoming prissier and sexier 🥂👛🐈‍⬛˖ ࣪

❤︎ ྀི˖𓍢 my personal pinkprint to aligning with my princess agenda—style, mindset, and routines to embody my future self. as I pivot in life, this will be one of my final blog posts like this. i’m transitioning it off blogging and will now document everything in my video diary… 𐙚

🎀 self prioritization, boundaries, and independence - i come before anyone else. i have no children and my only commitment is to make myself happy.

🍨 shadow work - to reveal what has made me how i am (strengths, traumas, interests, fears), i’ve done so much reflecting on my triggers and responses to specific stimuli. it feels good to know that i’m getting to know myself. that says growth to me.

🎀 studying my birth chart - finding out hope my placements, and which houses they’re in has really made my day to day interactions and experiences very insightful and fun to dissect.

🎀 so fab so glam lately - my vibe lately has been just g-l-a-m, glamorous. just oozing sex appeal and hyper femininity with a sophisticated twist. i can’t wait to document this on youtube.

🍨 bougie and sexy - black and satin have been a common theme for me. my aesthetic is naturally going in a very sultry direction along with animal prints, lace and diamanté detailing.

🎀 body mods - back dermal piercings, more ear piercings and super pretty tattoos, nothing too much just small and pretty embellishmentz!

🍨 fab color palette - brown, cream, soft pink, metallic accents (champagne gold, white gold), and leopard print. my everything.

🎀 gold n pink jewelry - this combo is so pretty on everything else so why wouldn’t be just as pretty on my personal adornments? ordered three gold and pink belly rings and i can’t want to mix the metals once my piercings heal.

🍨keeping a physical lookbook in my fashion diary - this year i’m not holding back. the looks are coming. the photos are coming. i want to document my fav looks, accessories, and details in real time. almost like personal portfolio.

🎀 sexy and grownifying my closet - investing in a luxurious, cohesive closet that says grown. gonna be using high heels and casual glamour to achieve this. the fabrics and cuts are extremely crucial too.

🍨 staple designer bags - if you know me you know i love designer purses. especially if they’re neutral colored and essential. i definitely plan on expanding my repertoire of bags.

🎀 customizing my wardrobe - i’m getting a sewing machine and i’m learning how to hotfix rhinestones to personalize and bedazzle anything i want to. i’m so so excited!

🍨 making my own jewelry - i’m so excited to talk about this! i’m making a kit of chains and threads along with beads and charms all in my color palette and i’m going to start popping out with so much custom made shit! body chains, waist beads, charm bracelets, just so exclusive + #prissy.

🎀 new makeup styles - been loving smoky eyes and black waterlines, overlining with a muted brown, lash clusters, rhinestones, and more sultry details.

🍨 interior lingerie - the goal is to have a boudoir that is just a sexy and alluring as my lingerie closet! sweet n sexy kitten! ❤︎︎

🎀 currently healing my gut - psyllium husk supplements, fiber, kombucha/prebiotic soda, chia seeds and an adequate amount of water have all become a part of my routine over the last month or so and i definitely feel different.

🍨 #prettiedup - bleach my hair, signature makeup routines, regular nail appointments (found a tech that i can rely on 🎀), korean skincare + african black soap, and anything else to boost my beauty.

🎀 got a personal trainer to maintain my “skinny bbl” look - i’m a tall girl with long legs and that with a tiny waist and round butt is so my look. currently training for it and i’m pretty happy so far. at this rate, by the end of march i’ll be at my goals.

🍨 building my vitamin and supplement routine - collagen, probiotics + prebiotics, maca, berberine, + some hum essentials.

🎀 my love of teas - cannot live without tea. it’s my favorite form of caffeine. and herbal teas always help me feel as if i’ve boosted my health. my favorite teas right now are green tea, matcha, and double spice chai. also love black, spearmint, and raspberry teas.

🍨 weekly digital detox - one day a week i go out of my way to avoid my phone. i simply rely on other things for entertainment, radio for music and try to interact with those around me.

🎀 hair extension wardrobe - tape ins in natural black and honey blonde, vixen sew ins with 30” bundles (i’m a tall girl so long hair to me is at least 26”)

🍨 cycle syncing - i’ve changed the way i eat depending on where i am in my menstrual cycle. i find my gut responds to the things i eat better. even with the time of day, being intentional with the way i live my life is so important to me now.

🎀 new personalized diet - high protein and low artificial sugar is pretty much what i’ve been following. what i typically eat in a day is berries, rice, oranges, lots of water, almond and peanut butter, etc. my fav sources of protein are grilled chicken, sushi, steak, salmon and eggs. of course i still like sweets they’re for sure few and far between.

🎀 trust in my intuition - it’s taken a while but i’m finally learning to trust myself. if my body is telling me to do something i do it, i don’t try to force what isn’t there, and i respect my mind by honoring the discerning abilities i was blessed with.

🍨 gratitude and thought reframing - so many things in my life changed for the better when i learned to flip my thoughts. in a glass half full fashion. it’s literally the law of assumption. i’m forever grateful for everyone and everything i have. and miss universe has only blessed me with more because i’m now so much more receptive.

🎀 no bull shit + not easily impressed - i literally have the shortest tolerance. i expect a certain standard of behavior from those that wish to be in my presence and this is because i give a certain level of care, consideration, authenticity and respect.

🍨 manifestation journal - my literal best friend. everything i write in my LOA journal comes true. i’m not exaggerating. i read it in the morning and tend to write in it before bed. i keep it right next to my bed along with some stickers and gel pens.

🎀 semipermanent beauty treatments - making appointments for lash lifts and brow microblading as we speak. also super interested in finding a great medspa in my area.

🍨 youtube #vloggingbabe🎀 - i finally made my long awaited comeback and i’ll actually be recording some of the things in this post on video. i love recording and editing. it feels like the best form of self expression to me right now! subscribe!

🎀 glam squad (esthetics, hair, nails) - i’m so anal about things being seamless and easy to remember. i like to go the same place for particular services and i’m determined to find a reliable hairstylist and esthetician that i can stay loyal to (i already have a bomb ass nail tech)

[jobean12-blog]

Impossible to Resist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mafia/Mob AU)

Word Count: 1,144

Summary: From time to time your husband has to attending important events and from time to time you just don't want to go and would rather keep him home.

Author's Note: Seb's new and delicious looks have been so fun! I just loved the idea of a bratty reader seeing him looking perfect and just needing to keep him home-at least a little longer 😏Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you so much Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fun, fluff, bratty reader, dom Bucky but he's always soft and sweet for his wife, fingering, curses

“You’re still not dressed?”

Bucky’s voice rumbles through the room and even from your semi-hidden spot under the plush covers you can hear the edge in his voice.

“BUCKKKYYYYY. I don’t feel like going to the gala,” you whine.

“Doll,” he warns. “We don’t have time for you to be a brat. Get. Dressed.”

“NO.”

In the next breath the covers are ripped from your body and your bare skin instantly chills in the cooler air. You keep your face snuggled into the pillow to hide your smile but do nothing to hide the curves of your body for him.

You feel his heat first then the familiar weight of him against you when his lips meet your ear.

“If you’re trying to tempt me into staying home it’s not going to work.”

“Yes it is,” you murmur, still hiding.

That’s when you take the opportunity to remove yourself from the pillow and languidly stretch your body out under him.

Your breath catches when your eyes focus on him.

His lips turn up into a knowing smirk and he stares right back. Your palms flatten on his hard chest and you gently push him off you so you can get a look at all of him.

The crisp white material of his shirt is fitted against every sculpted muscle and his pants fall effortlessly over his long legs. But it’s the neatly fastened bow tie that has you  licking your lips before your teeth sink into the wet flesh.

“Bucky.”

You sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed to reach out for him. Your arms circle around his neck and you curl your fingers through the ends of his hair.

“I don’t want to go,” you whine. Again.

He takes your chin between his fingers and tugs your face up to his to let his nose run along your cheek and when his lips are just a centimeter from yours he whispers, “get dressed.”

With a kiss he releases your chin and steps back.

You pout and chase his lips. “What am I going to wear?”

“I bought you something. A surprise. Come see.”

Still naked, you slide from the bed and follow with a huff.

“I think what I’m wearing now is just fine,” you purr.

He takes your hand in his, sliding his fingers up your arm until they rest at the back of your neck. He gently massages as he guides you toward your walk-in closet.

“Definitely my favorite outfit,” he croons. “But not for a gala.”

You giggle and press yourself into his side.

A garment bag hangs against one of the glass doors and he walks over to slowly unzip it, revealing a gorgeous designer dress beneath.

You gasp and clap your hands together.

“OH BUCKY! It’s perfect.”

“Of course it is,” he preens. “I picked it out.”

You step into his arms and press your soft curves against his hardness.

“Are you sure I have to get dressed now though?”

Your fingers work along his broad shoulders and then straighten the bow tie at his neck. You graze your hands over his chest and bat your lashes.

“Doll face,” he simpers.

“Hmm?” you ask in a soft sweet voice, feigning innocence.

His hand falls between your bodies and he smooths his fingers along your skin leaving goosebumps in their path.

A soft moan spills past your lips and he moves you toward the wall, pinning you against it with his body.

As his fingertips continue teasing along your skin you quickly undo his bow tie so you can tug on each side and pull his lips down to yours. He groans into your mouth and slips his hand between your legs.

“Please Bucky. Please,” you beg. “I need you.”

“Fuck doll,” he murmurs. “You know hearing those words makes me weak.”

When his fingers meet your soaked flesh he hisses out another curse and easily slides them along your clit, gently pressing and circling until your legs are shaking.

“Is this what you want baby doll?” he asks as he pulls away to gaze at you.

“Yes Bucky,” you breathe out. “Yes!”

He’s still fully dressed and the lush fabric of his clothes is overwhelming as it glides along your heated and sensitive skin. With his hand wedged between your bodies you can feel the cool metal of his bracelet and ring as they press into your skin and it makes you roll your hips, desperate for more.

A firm hand spreads your thighs wider and he pushes a finger inside you. His lips meet your neck and he bites down on your pulse point, relishing how you tighten around his finger.

“You’re such a brat,” he whispers against your lips. “So needy for me.”

“Always Bucky,” you answer on a moan.

He slips a second finger inside you and rolls his thumb over your clit. His other hand ghosts up to your neck and gently closes around your throat. At first the pressure is light but as you begin to chant his name he puts more, squeezing harder like you squeeze his fingers.

Your orgasms hits you in a blissful ripple, making your body tremble and cling to him until you ride out every second of perfection.

He pulls his fingers free, still glistening with your release, and lifts them to your mouth to run them along its plush outline. Your tongue darts out to lick them and he hums in satisfaction, parting your lips until you clean his fingers of every drop.

“See how sweet you taste,” he whispers before he kisses you.

You’re putty in his hands by the time he pulls away and you grasp his shoulders.

“Please. I want you inside me Bucky.”

His mouth captures yours in another hard and dominant kiss. “I decide when I’m going to fuck you.”

Your lips curve wickedly. “Fine. As long as it’s now.”

Amusement dances in his eyes, but it’s quickly extinguished with determination and desire. Keeping his gaze locked on you, he starts to drag the undone bow tie from his neck.

You try to stay steady as he reaches behind you and brings your wrists together, securing them tightly with the silky fabric.

“You’re going to do as you’re told,” he murmurs as he spins you around and presses his chest to your back.

His lips lightly brush the shell of your ear. “Understand doll?”

You give your wrists a slight tug, whimpering when nothing budges.

“Yes Bucky. I understand.”

He steps back to look at you, naked with your legs spread wide, thighs shiny with your wetness, and growls out a low “fuck.”

“Please Bucky!”

You arch along the wall, presenting yourself for him.

“When I’m ready doll,” he says, running his hand along the curve of your spine, “I’ll fuck you like the madman you’ve turned me into.”

@lizette50 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @identity2212

[seospicybin]

I DARE YOU.

Felix x reader. (s)

Synopsis: The shy you meet the charming stranger, Felix, through a dare that leads you both into a whirlwind of a night filled with new, unexpected things. (17,6k words)

Author's note: It’s a late bday fic for Felix. I had soooooo much fun writing the smut in this one and I rarely said that so I hope you had fun too reading it x

Not this—being in a loud, dark club with Rex and her friends, a group of people you barely know, and the alcohol in your glass isn't any less foreign, a poor substitute for your usual chamomile tea.

A typical Friday night for you usually means snuggling on the sofa with your favorite blanket, a book in hand, and a cup of tea.

The music is thumping, the strobing lights flickering incessantly, and the sheer chaos of it all overwhelms your senses. It's overstimulating, like stepping into a world where you don't quite belong.

But here you are, trying to push past your comfort zone for one night, specifically for your best friend, Rex. You make the exception because it's her birthday.

You've known Rex since high school, and to this second, you're still not entirely sure how you two became best friends.

Rex is everything you aren’t—fierce, vibrant, and unapologetically confident—while you are introverted, shy, and awkward. Yet somehow, in that contrast, you found something that clicked. Maybe it's the way she effortlessly pulls you out of your shell or the way she always has your back without needing to say much.

For almost eight years now, this unlikely bond has stood the test of time, bridging the gap between your quiet, dull world and her wild, colorful one.

However, at times, the stark contrast between you and Rex pushes you to the edge. She thrives on excitement, constantly seeking new experiences, while you cling to routine. You like the comfort of predictability—having the same breakfast every day, enjoying the calm of your familiar surroundings. Rex, on the other hand, is always nudging you, sometimes even shoving you, to break free from that comfort zone. She wants you to explore, to live a little, and while you appreciate her intentions, it can feel overwhelming. She never seems to understand that trying new, exciting things isn’t natural for you the way it is for her.

Just like tonight. Rex has convinced everyone to play Never Have I Ever, and it quickly becomes apparent how out of place you are.

Every statement, every confession, is about wild, reckless things—everything you’ve never done. With each round, your glass remains untouched while everyone else takes shots, laughing as they reveal their mischievous pasts.

By the time the group is tipsy and lightheaded from confessing their wild and naughty escapades, you are still as sober as ever, quietly sitting there, feeling even more like a fish out of water.

Rex eventually notices your lack of participation. She puts down her glass and says, “Alright, this is getting boring. Let’s change the game!”

You notice her eyes flicking to you, and you feel your heart sink. “But I’m having fun,” you assure her, forcing an awkward laugh.

Your words are not entirely false. It isn’t like you aren’t having fun—it just isn’t your kind of fun.

Rex smirks, knowing you too well. She can see through your calm façade. “Sure you are. Alright, Never Have I Ever cheated on a test?"

Everyone else laughs, raising their glasses to take a shot, but your glass stays put.

“Guys, you shouldn’t cheat on...” your words trail off as you notice the looks they give you.

“See?” Rex says, turning back to you. “It’s not fun if you’re not participating.”

You scoff, but you can't really argue. It's true. The game isn’t exactly designed for someone like you.

“I’m still having fun,” you insist with a faint smile, but even you can hear how fake that sounds.

Rex lets out a sigh and scoots closer to you. “It’s my birthday, and I want my best friend to have fun on my birthday.”

One of her friends groans, putting her glass down with an exaggerated eye roll. “Whatever, I’m hitting the dance floor.” She slides out of the booth, and the rest follow, leaving you and Rex alone.

Maybe Rex’s birthday has become a bit boring because of you, but you told her before that you would’ve preferred a small gathering at your apartment, maybe just the two of you.

“I’m sorry I’m ruining your birthday,” you mumble, feeling guilty for being a party pooper and aware that it's unfair to her.

However, Rex’s attention has already drifted elsewhere—on someone, to be exact. She turns her head back at you with her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“He’s been checking you out,” she whispers against the loud music.

You snort and shake your head in disbelief, glancing in the direction she subtly nods toward, checking if she's telling the truth.

Across the room, a guy with bleached blond hair and tattooed hands sits casually, dressed in a leather jacket. His fair skin and delicate features are striking, but you can’t help but laugh to yourself. There is no way he is checking you out—not when Rex, your stunning, lively best friend, is sitting right next to you.

Before you can argue, Rex turns your head toward him. Your eyes lock with his instantly, and your heart skips a beat. You tell yourself it's just the loud, thumping music making your chest pound like that. He smiles faintly at you, and you quickly look away, feeling heat rise in your cheeks.

“Okay, new game!” Rex suddenly announces, clapping her hands.

You blink in shock. “Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just between you and me,” Rex says with a mischievous grin, taking a second to sip her drink.

You raise an eyebrow, wary of what she has in mind. “Okay...?” you respond nervously.

“Truth or dare,” Rex finally reveals, her eyes gleaming with trouble. “But here’s the twist—there’s no truth.”

“Rex, I don’t—” you begin, but she cuts you off by covering your mouth with her hand.

“It’s my birthday,” she says, her voice low yet commanding. “You’re obliged to do whatever I ask.”

You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Rex removes her hand and holds yours instead, her fingers cool and reassuring despite her devious smile.

“My dear best friend,” she says, that mischievous grin lingering on her red-painted lips, “I dare you to kiss that guy.”

Your eyes follow her finger, and it's pointing at the bleached blond guy with the tattooed hands across the room.

“What? No way!” You blurt out, eyes widening in shock.

“Come on! It’s just a kiss. You can do it," Rex says casually, showing how different the two of you view this dare. She then squeezes your hand and adds, "Besides, he’s been staring at you all night.”

Your heart pounds, not from the music but from the sheer terror of Rex’s dare. Kiss a stranger? In a club? You aren’t Rex—confident and fearless. You’re the girl who barely participated in Never Have I Ever because the wildest thing you’ve ever done is stay up late to study for finals.

“But I… I don’t know him,” you stammer, your palms getting sweaty on your lap.

“That’s the point of the game!" Rex says lightly. "And it’s not like he hasn’t noticed you. He smiled, didn’t he?”

The idea terrifies you, but there is also a small part of you—buried deep under all the shyness and caution—that is curious. What if you step out of your comfort zone for once? What if you do something wild, something you’d never do on your own?

As if she hears your thoughts, Rex leans closer and softly says, “You’ve spent your whole life playing it safe. It’s just one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You glance back toward the guy. He’s still sitting there, calm and collected, his long bleached-blonde hair falling effortlessly around his face. He hasn’t looked away since your brief, flustered glance earlier. Instead, he seems… unfazed, but there’s something curious in his eyes, like he’s still watching, waiting.

“I can’t,” you mutter again, shaking your head, feeling that familiar wave of discomfort rise in your chest.

Rex leans in closer, holding your hand gently. “Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to have fun for once, not think about everything so much. You trust me, right?”

Of course you trust her. Rex has been by your side for eight years, through thick and thin. As wild as she is, she always has your back, no matter what.

The logical part of your brain screams at you to refuse, to stay in your lane. But there’s another voice, quieter but growing louder with each passing second, telling you to just do it, to be bold, even if just for one night.

You inhale deeply, your hand still in hers, and with a shaky voice, you say, “Fine. But if I make a fool of myself, I'll kill you and leave your body in a ditch.”

Rex bursts out laughing, not finding your words threatening at all. “Deal! Now go get him, tiger!” she says, giving you a playful slap on the butt.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” you mutter under your breath, standing up on legs already turning to jelly.

You look over your shoulder and find Rex grinning, clearly delighted. As encouragement, she gives you a nudge in the guy's direction.

As you walk toward him, each step feels surreal, heavier than the last. It doesn’t take long before the guy notices you, and to your surprise, his faint smile grows.

When you finally stop in front of him, you don’t know what to say. Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you regret even considering the dare. But despite everything, you hear your own voice ask, “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

There's no turning back now, and it’s not like he's the type to say no, not with the way he's looking at you—intrigued. And despite the panic in your chest, there’s something thrilling about the way he watches you.

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement, then his smile turns soft. “How could I say no to that?” he says, his voice surprisingly low and deep.

Not giving yourself time to overthink, you close the gap between you and him, leaning in as he does the same until your lips and his meet in the middle.

The kiss isn’t wild or reckless like you imagined it would be. It’s gentle, slow, and—much to your surprise—perfectly in tune with the moment. It feels like the first time you’ve ever kissed anyone, full of nerves, fluttering excitement, and the kind of tenderness you hadn’t expected from a stranger.

When you pull back, your hand flies to your lips, barely believing you’ve just done that. Your heart is still racing, but this time, it isn’t just from fear. You feel the thrill and rush of stepping out of your comfort zone, and you think... maybe you can push yourself a little more, just a little bit.

Absentmindedly, you open your mouth and ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”

-

It's a typical Friday night for Felix—hanging at the club with his friends, having a few drinks, casually watching the scene. The same kind of night he's had countless times. His eyes wander across the room, drifting from one group of people to another, and then… he sees you.

You're completely out of place, dressed in something someone would wear to church on Sunday, your glasses slightly sliding down your nose, sitting with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. The glass you're holding? He's pretty sure it's just an accessory for your idle hand. Then he observes the people you're with—they're clearly here to let loose and have fun, his usual type—the kind of girls who are bold and uninhibited. But you? You're different, and that’s what intrigues him.

Felix isn’t being judgmental. He knows everyone needs to blow off some steam once in a while, but there's something about seeing you in this environment that captivates him. You don’t belong here, not really, and yet here you are. The juxtaposition of your quiet presence amidst the chaos of the club fascinates him. He finds himself watching you without meaning to, drawn to how out of place you are.

Then, your eyes meet. You look right at him from across the room, and he doesn't look away. He holds your gaze, wondering if you’ll hold it too, but you drop your eyes almost immediately.

The shyness in that simple act is oddly cute because most girls he meets in places like this are bold, forward. They don't shy away from eye contact, but you? There is something sweet in your hesitance.

The second time you glance over, Felix notices a change. You're a little braver, and this time, you don’t just look—you stand up. Your steps are hesitant but purposeful as you cross the room, and before he can think too much about it, you're right in front of him.

“Do you mind if I kissed you?” you ask, your voice soft, small yet determined.

Felix raises an eyebrow, surprised but amused. He can’t help but smile at the way you asked for permission. Most girls don’t ask—they just do. But your politeness, your shyness, the way you're so out of place in this club yet standing in front of him, asking so sweetly—it's irresistible.

He looks at you, his smile widening. “How could I say no to that?”

A kiss has always just been a kiss for Felix—a simple way to satisfy some biological need, with no deeper meaning behind it. But this? This kiss doesn’t feel like that.

The kiss takes him back to something he hasn’t felt in years—the thrill of a first kiss. The kind that's innocent, pure, and full of nervous excitement. He can’t remember the last time he had a kiss that made him feel like this—something chaste but electrifying all at once.

As you pull away, Felix almost groans in protest. He wants more, needs more of that flutter, that spark. His lips tingle, and he can tell yours do too, as your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can’t believe what just happened.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice shy, but with a daring edge that Felix hadn’t expected.

Your charm is something else—shy and demure one moment, then bold and forward the next, endlessly fascinating him. There's just something about you that makes this feel less like a random encounter and more like something worth exploring.

Consider his curiosity piqued, eager to see where this unlikely encounter will take him next. He meets your gaze, a playful smile tugging at his lips, then he says, "Lead the way!"

You turn, feeling the heat of his presence close behind you as you make your way through the packed club. The noise slowly recedes, replaced by a focused, almost intimate atmosphere between you.

As you reach the exit, Felix places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. Once outside, the cool night air hits you, a refreshing contrast to the club’s stuffy heat.

Felix glances at you, his smile still in place, and asks, “So, what’s the plan?”

-

To be honest, you have no idea why you asked him out. You acted spontaneously, which is unlike you, but you know what you want. You crave the thrill and the excitement, and ultimately, more of that explosive kiss. 

Without thinking, you reach for Felix’s arm, pulling him toward the dimly lit alley next to the club. The urgency between you both is palpable, the energy from that brief kiss still simmering just beneath the surface. 

As soon as you're out of sight from the street, Felix pins you against a stack of old crates filled with empty beer bottles. His hands find your waist and pull you close. Your lips collide again, this time more passionate, more intense. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your fingers tangle in his long hair. 

In the intensity of the moment, you lean back slightly, misjudging the proximity of the crate. Your head strikes the edge with a sharp thud, and the sudden pain makes you wince. 

You gasp and accidentally break the kiss for a second, but you decide to laugh it off—you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tinted with concern. 

“I’m fine," you say, half-laughing. 

Felix smiles, though concern fills his eyes as he leans in close. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m—” you begin to blabber, wanting to resume the heated moment by leaning in for another kiss, but you immediately stop when you notice the shift in his expression. 

His hand reaches up to the side of your head, and that’s when you feel it too—the warm, sticky sensation spreading through your hair. Then, he shows you his fingers, coated with your blood. 

“I don’t think you're okay,” he mutters, his voice suddenly serious. “You’re bleeding.” 

You can feel the adrenaline and embarrassment mingling as the pain begins to set in. 

Felix gently touches your shoulder, trying to comfort you as he guides you away from the alley. “We need to get this checked out. We need to go to the hospital.” 

Oh, no! This was supposed to be your night of finally breaking out of your shell, not a night where you make a fool of yourself in front of a hot guy. 

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t need to go to the hospital,” you insist, trying to brush off the situation. 

He shakes his head firmly, but his hand remains gentle on the small of your back. “We’re getting this checked out. You can’t just ignore it.” 

Without taking any of your excuses, Felix hails a taxi until one stops and pulls to the side of the road. He helps you get in, and on the ride to the nearest hospital, he checks on you every once in a while, asking if you're okay. His tatted hands and rough exterior are such a contrast to his gentle, attentive demeanor. 

That only makes you hate how the night has taken a turn. The two of you could have done more than just kiss by now if it weren’t for you bumping your head on a stupid crate. 

“Come back if you feel dizzy, nauseous, or if there’s a ringing in your ears,” the doctor says as she takes off her latex gloves, leaving the nurse to finish the rest. 

Despite the night’s earlier excitement, you feel a tinge of embarrassment about the whole incident. You're thinking of faking a concussion just to stay the night in the emergency room, but you're aware that would only make him worry more about you. 

Guess there's no other option but to push your way through this humiliation. 

As you step out of the emergency room, you see him standing against the wall, looking impossibly cool in his rough leather jacket. With his striking features, he could’ve been doing a photo shoot for a magazine. 

“Hi,” you nervously greet him. 

The adrenaline has drained from your body, leaving you feeling deflated. It's like the girl who kissed a stranger in a dark alley has vanished, replaced by your usual shy, awkward self—plus, you now have a bandage on your forehead. 

The magic of the night has faded, and you wouldn't blame Felix if he decided to leave now that he’s met the real you. He glances up from his phone, a soft smile stretching across his lips. 

“Hey. You okay?” he asks, putting his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket. 

“Three stitches, no concussion,” you say, trying to sound casual. 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Felix sighs, visibly relaxing. 

“You know, you don’t have to wait for me. I can deal with this myself,” you say, feeling a little guilty. He’s already done enough by helping you get to the hospital. 

“I can’t do that,” Felix says, his voice steady. 

“Why not?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

“I can’t just leave when you’re hurt,” he answers simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

That's such an unexpected answer from an unexpected man. He barely knows you, yet here he is, waiting outside an emergency room just to make sure you're okay. That thought warms you—but then it hits you: you don’t even know his name. 

“Unless I’m actually concussed… do I know your name?” you ask with a shy laugh. “Or did we skip introductions?” 

Felix chuckles, holding out his hand to you. “Felix,” he says, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver through you. 

You take his hand, offering your name in return. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” 

It's about to get awkward from here, you can feel it. The momentum of the night has stalled, and now you aren’t sure what to say or do. You like him, but it feels like the window to continue this spontaneous night has closed. Maybe it’s better to retreat. 

“I’d better head home,” you mutter in defeat, but deep down, you hope the end of the night won’t feel as anticlimactic as it seems. 

To your surprise, Felix straightens up from the wall and turns toward the exit. With a warm and genuine smile, he offers, “Let me take you home.”

-

As Felix stands outside the emergency room, leaning against the wall, he notices you stepping out, looking more like yourself again—shy, awkward, but also kind of endearing. He can see the hint of embarrassment in your eyes, like you're expecting him to vanish now that things aren't as wild as they were earlier. But you have no idea he isn’t that kind of guy, not when it comes to this. 

You walk over, your voice soft and uncertain as you greet him, “Hi.” 

“Hey. You’re okay?” he puts on a smile, relieved that you're okay. 

“Three stitches, no concussion,” you answer, trying to play it down. 

“That’s a relief,” he sighs. 

Honestly, if anything worse had happened to you, he would’ve felt responsible, and he can’t live with that. Sure, his appearance might have given off the wrong vibe, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You need help, so he helps you. 

“You know, you don’t even have to wait for me. I can just deal with it myself," you awkwardly clasp your hands in front of you and keep avoiding his eyes as you speak. 

“I can’t do that,” he says; there’s no way he leaves you alone after everything. 

“Why not?” you ask, genuinely confused. 

Felix doesn’t really have an answer to that, so he slowly shrugs and says, “I can’t just leave when you’re hurt.” 

You give him this look, like you're trying to figure him out. He guesses you don't expect him to care, but he does, and that is that. 

A moment passes in silence, and you shift awkwardly in front of him. “Unless I’m actually concussed... do I know your name, or did we skip the introduction?” 

It only hits him now that you both indeed haven't introduced each other. He chuckles and holds out his hand. “Felix.” 

You take it, and your hand feels warm and delicate in his. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” 

You seem like you're about to wrap up the night, but he can see it in the way you're fidgeting, like you're ready to go but also unsure about how to end things. 

“I’d better head home,” you mutter, your voice almost apologetic. 

But Felix isn’t ready to end the night, and he can tell you don’t want to, either—you just don’t have the nerve to ask. And honestly, he doesn’t want the moment to slip away, so he decides to give you an out. 

“Let me take you home,” he offers, and when your eyes meet his, he can see the relief flicker across your face. 

When the taxi pulls up outside your apartment building, he watches you try to act cool, but he can tell you’re hesitating. You don’t want the night to end any more than he does, but you aren’t going to say it. 

Felix has been with enough people to know when someone is too shy to speak up, and you are definitely in that space. He leans in slightly and asks, “Do you mind if I come in for a bit? I’m afraid I need to use your bathroom.” 

Your face lights up with a smile you can’t hide, and he has to hold back a grin of his own. 

“I don’t mind at all," you say, trying so hard to conceal the excitement in your voice. 

The two of you head inside. You lead the way to your apartment, climbing the stairs, giving him a view of your back as the hem of your dress sways while you walk until you reach the fourth floor.

Thank God for that! If you climbed another flight of stairs, he would have followed his intrusive thoughts and dropped to his knees to peek under your skirt to see what kind of underwear you’re wearing. 

Felix bets it's white, cotton, probably with cute floral prints. He shakes the thought away when you abruptly stop walking as you arrive at the front door of your apartment. 

Once you unlock the door, you open it and step aside to let Felix in. He flashes you a smile as he steps in the small yet cozy apartment. He glances around and sees the pictures on the wall, mostly of you and a tall girl with curly brown hair. He remembers her as one of the girls you’ve been with at the club. 

“The bathroom is that way,” you tell him, and Felix makes his way down the hall. 

Once inside, he wastes a bit of time washing his hands, fixing his hair, checking the hair products, all the while giving you a moment to settle. 

When he comes out, you’re in the kitchen, your hair now tied back into a low bun, exposing your neck and the soft tendrils of hair on the nape of your neck. You look… different, but still really cute. 

“Would you like a drink?” you ask, sauntering your way to the fridge. 

“Anything cold would be nice,” he answers. 

You take two cans of soda out of the fridge, bringing them with you to the living room and sitting on the small sofa. 

“Sit down, please,” you say, permitting him to sit in the space next to you since there’s no other place to sit. 

“This is a nice apartment,” he comments, his eyes glancing around while his hand works the tab on his soda can. 

“Thanks,” you mutter with a smile, holding the can of soda in both hands. It has been opened, but you're not drinking it. 

"I can safely assume you live with a roommate?" he asks, then takes a gulp of his soda, which instantly refreshes him. 

"Yes," you answer. "Rex, she’s one of the girls... back in the club," you awkwardly explain, confirming that he's right—she's the same girl from the club. 

"Is it short for Tyrannosaurus—" he pauses for dramatic effect, "—Rex?" 

You let out a chuckle and push your glasses up your nose. "Her real name is Rebecca, but she insisted on being called Rex because it's..." 

"Sounds cooler?" he easily guesses. 

"Yeah," you nod in confirmation, "and it's her birthday today, so..." 

"That's why you were at the club?" he asks, slowly getting his curiosity answered. 

"I think it's obvious that I wasn't there because of my own volition," you openly admit. 

Felix can see it now—the way you seemed out of place back at the club. It isn’t your scene, and it makes sense now that you explained it is Rex’s thing. He hesitates, feeling a question burning in his mind, one that he needs an answer to, regardless of what it might reveal. 

"And the kiss?"

-

Oh, no! Not this again. 

Please don't say that Felix is actually interested in Rex and that he was checking her out instead of you. This wouldn't be your first time, but what a pity! What a pity it would be if that turned out to be true. 

Until Felix asked about the kiss and whether it was Rex’s idea or not. 

Your throat tightens, but you know you have to be honest. “Rex dared me to do it,” you admit, your words tumbling out faster than you wanted. 

He nods, but you can see a flash of disappointment in his eyes—brief but noticeable. Before he can respond, you rush to explain the rest of the truth. 

“But the one we shared in the alley? That was me. I wanted that,” you add. 

Felix gives you the chance to explain more, so you continue, determined to make him understand. You put your can of soda on the table and inhale before speaking. 

“Earlier, during this game Rex and her friends played, they were talking about all these wild things they’d done, and I just sat there... realizing how much I’ve missed out on.” You pause to let out a sigh as the weight of your confession settles between you. “I’ve spent so much time focused on studying, hitting all my academic goals, that I never gave myself the chance to live. And I don’t want to wake up one day full of regret for not taking chances.” 

You look up from your lap at him—not necessarily meeting his eyes, or else you'll be a nervous wreck. “So tonight, I decided to push myself for once. The kiss might’ve started as a dare, but when I pulled you into that alley… that was real. For the first time in my life, I felt so alive.” 

Felix remains quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours, taking in every word. You can feel his hesitation, though—a cautious distance. His concern isn’t just about your head injury; it's something more. 

“You don’t have to do all that just because your friends have done it,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “You do it when you’re ready.” 

His words hit home, and you feel a wave of realization. The thrill and the pressure you’ve felt earlier are starting to clash with a deeper understanding of what you really want. 

You may be naïve and know little about this intimate stuff, but you're also the one who knows you best, and you know what you want—you want this. 

“I’m doing this for me. I want it. I'm ready," you unequivocally say, full of conviction. 

Felix’s expression softens, but doubts linger in his eyes. “I think you know what kind of guy I am. I don’t do relationships. I… casually date. I’m not a good guy.” 

You can’t help but smile at that, shaking your head in disagreement at his last statement. “You insisted on taking me to the hospital, waited until I got treated, and then made sure I got home safely. If that’s not a good guy, I don’t know what is,” you lay out all the facts on why he isn't what he says he is. 

He sighs, clearly conflicted, running his hand through his long, bleached hair. “I’m just not sure if you really want to do this… with me.” 

“I want to do this with you," you say without the slightest doubt. 

There's a reason why he's here when he had his chances to walk out of this situation. He could have ditched you back there in the club, in the dark alley, or at the hospital. He could have gotten into that taxi and gone home, but instead, he chose to come in here. 

Felix is quiet again, his eyes locked on yours as he considers what you said. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he lets out a sigh, letting the last bit of hesitation slip away from him. 

"We should go to your bedroom," he says, his voice low but confident. 

The excitement flares up in your chest, your heart racing as you rise from the sofa. This is it. The feeling you’ve been chasing all night—the sense of truly living, of stepping out of your comfort zone. You lead him to your bedroom, each step heavy with anticipation. 

When you open the door to your bedroom, you pause for a moment, suddenly feeling vulnerable. It’s strange—no one ever warns you how personal it feels to show someone your bedroom. It’s not just a room; it’s a reflection of you, of your habits, your life. You close the door behind you, your breath catching as Felix steps in and takes a quick look around. 

He glances over the shelves, where countless books are crammed into every available space. A small smile tugs at his lips, a look of slight amusement crossing his face as he takes it all in. It’s like he doesn’t expect this—your quiet, introverted world clashing with the chaotic energy of the night. 

But then his eyes land back on you, and your pulse quickens. You’re alone now, really alone, in the privacy of your bedroom, and the reality of it all settles over you. You can feel the weight of the moment, not knowing how to begin but wanting to. You step closer to him, hoping he’ll take the lead. 

Felix sits down on the edge of your bed, his eyes still on you. He pats the space beside him, an invitation, and you sit down next to him, nerves tingling under your skin. 

"You have a very interesting room," he says with a playful smile, but there’s no mockery in his tone—only genuine surprise. 

You shyly chuckle, your hands fidgeting in your lap. "Yeah, I’m… very aware." 

He turns to you, his gaze softening. He’s studying you, taking you in, and when he looks into your eyes, you feel like he’s seeing something deeper. Then, as if realizing something, his brow furrows slightly. 

“Can I take them off?" he asks, nodding toward your glasses. "Will you still be able to see without them?” 

“I’m nearsighted, so yeah,” you confirm, your hand halfway to your face to take them off, but Felix gets ahead, gently removing them for you. Then he places them carefully on your bedside table. 

The world around you becomes a soft blur, but Felix… Felix is in perfect focus. He’s all you can see. His delicate features stand out, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours, his freckles like tiny constellations dusting his cheeks and nose. It’s like he’s become the center of your universe, and nothing else matters in that moment. 

You get a little overwhelmed as you take him in—his beauty so striking, so close, making your heart beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it too. 

"Can I take your hair down?" Felix asks, his voice soft but deliberate. 

Unable to provide a verbal answer, you nod. His hand is quick to reach behind your head, releasing your hair from the tie, and you feel an unexpected wave of relaxation wash over you, like the tension you’d been carrying all night had been held there, in your hair. 

Felix’s fingers move through the strands gently, combing through them, letting the ends slip through his fingers. The tattoos on his hand catch your attention, and as his sleeve rides up, you notice even more ink snaking up his arm. 

"How many tattoos do you have?" you ask, unable to hide your curiosity. 

"I stopped counting a long time ago," Felix chuckles, a lightness in his voice that makes you smile. 

He notices your lingering gaze on his tattoos, and without hesitation, he starts unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt. He lets the fabric fall back, giving you a clearer view of the designs that cover his skin. The sight of his muscles beneath the inked patterns, the veins trailing down his arm, captivates you. 

"Is it okay if I touch you?" you ask, your voice quiet, unsure if it’s too bold. 

"You can touch me," he says with an encouraging smile, "anywhere." 

The last word unexpectedly provokes you; it was just a word until Felix gives it a new meaning now, and it's been echoing in the back of your mind in his deep, low voice. Anywhere. 

With a tentative hand, you reach out, slowly rolling his sleeve up higher. The tattoos become more detailed—the lines and shading intricate—but what holds your attention is the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The combination of the ink and the physicality of him makes you feel a strange sense of intimacy. Afraid that you're overstepping, you let the sleeve fall back and flash him a smile of gratitude.

“You know this will be easier if you sit closer,” Felix says, his tone suggestive but gentle. 

You shift closer, trying to keep your breath steady. The space between you shrinks, but the heat from his body seems to rise, making your heart race. 

"Closer," Felix murmurs, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

You move another inch. 

"More," he says, his voice a bit firmer this time. 

You scoot a little more until finally, there’s no space left between you. Your body is pressed against his, and the warmth from him feels overwhelming, your skin tingling from the proximity. 

"I think you should put your hand around my neck," Felix suggests, his voice a low rumble. 

"Are you sure?" you ask, still worried about overstepping. 

"Of course," he reassures you, guiding your hand up to his shoulder. 

From there, you let it drift to the back of his neck, feeling the strong line of muscle beneath your palm. 

The two of you are incredibly close; you can feel his breath brushing against your cheek. As if the proximity isn't enough, his hand cups your jaw, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. 

It doesn't take a genius to know what comes next; you can feel it coming as the tension intensifies with each passing second. 

"I'm not a good kisser," you blurt out, your insecurities successfully breaking through the haze of the moment. 

"You did just fine earlier," he says, watching as his thumb swipes across your lower lip. 

You try to argue, but before you can say another word, Felix presses a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving a searing warmth behind. 

"Stop thinking and just..." he trails off, kissing just beneath your eye, sending a shock of sensation through you, "… do it." 

Before you can process his words, his lips find yours. The kiss is electric and powerful, wiping away every doubt and insecurity. The world narrows down to the feeling of his mouth on yours, the sound of your breath mingling in the quiet of your bedroom. 

Felix pulls away just enough for you to catch your breath, his hand moving to brush your hair to the side. He does it carefully to avoid accidentally touching the bandaged wound on your forehead. 

"Now," he says, voice deep with desire, "we’re going to put in a little tongue." 

Dazed and a little disoriented from the kiss, you nod, your brain unable to compute a word. 

He kisses you again, this time slower, more deliberate, teasing you with his tongue as it slides across your lips. It’s sensual and intimate, and when you let him in, the kiss deepens, and you try your best to move in sync with him. 

When Felix pulls away, he’s grinning, looking impressed. "See? You’re a natural." 

Flustered, you look down, but he isn’t having it. He wants your eyes, your full attention on him, so he puts his hand under your chin, gently angling your face back toward his. 

Not giving you a moment to think, he plants a kiss on your lips again—gently, but there’s intensity to it, a sense of hunger that needs to be satisfied. 

At the same time, his other hand travels down to your back, tracing down your spine before he withdraws it back to your front, reaching for the button of your dress. 

You've been handling it well so far, but when he touches you there, it triggers the alarm bells in your head. You try to convince yourself that it's okay; you trust Felix, and he's not going to harm you, but your body abruptly freezes, and you stiffen against him. 

Felix notices immediately and takes his hands off of you, concern painted on his small face. 

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks softly, not wanting to alarm you further. 

First, it was Rex’s birthday party, and not long after that, you did it again by bumping your head during a makeout session in the dark alley, and now this. You sigh and look down at your lap, wondering why you keep sabotaging your life like this. 

"I’m sorry, I just... I–I wasn’t ready for that," you meekly say, looking down at your lap, feeling embarrassed. 

"That’s okay," he says with a soothing voice. "I’d rather you tell me when you’re uncomfortable." 

Anyone else might have been annoyed or disappointed, but Felix—he’s patient, gentle, and very understanding. You feel a rush of gratitude for him. 

"Okay," you murmur, nodding. 

"Or you can just slap me next time," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

Slapping his face would feel like vandalizing the Mona Lisa, so you shake your head in strong disagreement while softly laughing, "No. I wouldn’t do that." 

Thanks to you freaking out without reason, you have to start all over again, and you can only hope that Felix has some patience left for you. 

You watch as he glances toward your bedside table, eyeing the small stack of books. "Are these the ones you’re reading?" 

"Yeah," you reply, your smile returning. 

"You’re telling me you’re reading five books at once?" he asks. His tattooed fingers trail along the spines as he reads the titles under his breath. 

"Three are for school," you say, chuckling, "but the other two are for fun." 

"Oh, so you do know how to have fun," he teases you with a charming smile that makes his eyes lively. 

You know he's trying to lighten the mood, and you feel thankful that he indeed still has some patience left in him. 

Felix picks up the smallest one from the top of the stack and flips through the pages. "Poetry," he remarks. 

"Yeah," you nod, feeling a bit shy. 

He looks at you with something new in his eyes. "Would you read me one?" 

"A poem?" you stammer. 

"No, the index page," he teases you yet again. 

You laugh, feeling a bit silly for asking, and then take the book from him. You open it, easily finding the page you marked as your favorite poem. 

"Okay... I’ll try," you say as you clear your throat.

Your fingers nervously brush the edges of the page, eyes glancing at the words, but you’re aware of Felix’s gaze on you. His presence is overwhelming—his closeness, the subtle intensity in his expression. 

Despite everything, you begin reading, your voice low and a little shaky. 

"Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near." 

Felix leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand moves to the back of your neck, brushing the loose strands of your hair away. 

You pause, feeling the pressure of his nearness, but he nudges you gently. 

"Keep reading," he whispers against your skin, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

You swallow, forcing yourself to focus. Your voice is a little shaky as you continue. 

"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers; you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—" 

Felix’s lips press softly against the corner of your mouth just as your voice falters. You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but his kiss lingers, feather-light and teasing. 

You glance at him, the lines of the poem slipping from your mind. 

"Go on," he murmurs, his mouth now brushing your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, holding you in place as if keeping you tethered to the moment. 

"I... I—" you stammer, your focus crumbling under his touch, his lips trailing a path down to your neck. You grip the book tighter, trying to maintain the thread of the poem, your voice coming out as a breathy whisper: "you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose—" 

Felix presses another kiss just below your ear, making your breath hitch. He’s being gentle but deliberate, his lips grazing your skin with an intention that makes it almost impossible to concentrate. 

Your heart bursts, the words on the page becoming blurry. "Felix..." you murmur, caught between the poem and the sensation of his kisses. 

"Don’t stop," he whispers again, this time against the curve of your neck, sending a rush of warmth through you. "I want to hear the rest." 

Your voice quivers as you try to continue, the lines of the poem mixing with the feeling of his lips. 

"Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending—" 

His kisses grow slower, more languid, as if savoring every inch of your skin. Each one draws you further away from the poem, your pulse quickening under his touch. He pulls back just slightly, and his eyes meet yours, his gaze heavy with desire, but still, he urges you on. 

"Finish it," he says softly, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he holds your gaze. 

You exhale shakily, barely able to focus anymore, but you try.

"Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility..." 

Before you can finish the last line, Felix’s lips capture yours, cutting off the rest of the poem. His kiss is deeper this time, not asking for permission but claiming the moment as his own. The book slips from your hand, forgotten, as you lean into him, your breath mingling with his. 

The poetry becomes a distant memory as his kisses consume you, every touch drawing you further into him. And for the first time, you don’t feel the need to pull back or hesitate. You melt into the moment, into him, as the poem fades into the background, replaced by the quiet intensity of Felix’s lips on yours. 

The poem may be incomplete, but the moment is whole. 

-

Felix watches as you fumble with the edges of the poetry book, your nervousness plain in the way your fingers tremble. He can sense how hard you’re trying to focus, trying to find your voice in the moment.

There’s a certain charm in how unsure you are, the way your eyes keep darting up to him, like you’re looking for some kind of permission. But he knows you don’t need it. You want this—he can feel it in the air between you.

When you finally start to read, your voice is soft, hesitant.

“Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence...”

Felix can barely concentrate on the words. It’s your voice—that shaky, uncertain quality—that pulls him in, and you’re so close. He leans in, pressing the warmth of his lips against your cheek, testing, teasing. He feels the way you stiffen, your breath catching. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but the urge to touch you, to close that gap, is too strong.

"Keep reading," he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin, barely above a whisper. He feels your pulse quicken beneath his touch.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice even softer now, trying to hold it together.

"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers..."

As your voice trails off again, Felix can't resist. His lips graze the corner of your mouth, light and fleeting. He watches your eyes flutter, sees the way you're barely hanging onto the thread of the poem, and it makes him smile inwardly. He pulls back just enough to see the heat in your cheeks, the uncertainty fighting with desire in your eyes.

"Go on," he urges, this time pressing his lips to the soft skin just beneath your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, fingers curling lightly around you, holding you steady, grounding you as he teases.

"I–I..." Your voice falters completely as his lips trail lower, brushing the sensitive spot near your neck.

He loves the way you stammer, the way your breath comes in shallow gasps.

"You open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—"

Felix hears your voice waver again, and he chuckles softly against your neck. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The poem doesn’t stand a chance against his kisses, but he likes this game, this slow unraveling of your composure.

"Felix..." you murmur, barely able to hold onto the words.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath warm against your ear. "Don’t stop." His voice is low, coaxing, as he brushes another kiss just below your ear. "I want to hear the rest."

You try—he can see you trying—but the way you tremble beneath his touch makes it almost impossible for you to concentrate. He watches you struggle, a mix of amusement and desire in his gaze as you fight to continue.

"...Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully..."

Felix’s lips move slowly across your skin, savoring every inch. He can feel the tension in you, the way you’re holding onto control by a thread. But then, something shifts. He presses one last kiss to your neck, soft and lingering, and watches as your resolve crumbles. The book slips from your hands, your breath hitching in your chest.

“Finish it,” Felix whispers, his thumb grazing your lower lip. He can see the words have all but left you, but he waits, eyes fixed on your trembling lips.

"...The power of your intense fragility..."

Before you can finish the line, Felix presses his lips to yours. The words are lost as he kisses you, claiming the moment. There’s no hesitation in the way your body responds, melting into him as if you’ve been waiting for this all night. The book falls from your hands, forgotten, as his hands move to pull you closer.

He feels the way you surrender to the kiss, how every bit of uncertainty you held before dissolves. His kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, until he pulls back just enough to look at you, lips still close, your breaths mingling.

Felix takes a quick check to see if you're comfortable enough to continue, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he leans his forehead against yours. He can feel the way you’re still caught in the moment, still wanting more.

His hand slides down to your shoulder, tracing the curve of your spine. He brushes your hair to the side, kissing you again—slower this time, deeper. The way you respond, your lips meeting his with growing confidence, only pulls him in more.

Felix takes your hand and gently places it on his chest. He feels the way your hand stays immobile for a moment, but then it starts to move, roaming curiously over his body. Your touch is tentative but warm, and soon enough, your fingers tug at the opening of his shirt, revealing a peek of inked skin underneath. Felix notices the way your curiosity lights up your face. “Do you want to see the rest of my tattoos?”

You hesitate, biting your lip as you think about it, unsure if you should say yes. To avoid letting him hear how eager you are, you nod instead.

“But you have to help me with the buttons,” he says, glancing down at his shirt.

It’s a subtle invitation, but the way he says it makes you feel like you’re in control. You start undoing the buttons, one by one, your fingers working carefully, as if each button is a gateway to something unknown. When you finish, you stop, leaving the fabric still draped across his chest. There’s a moment of hesitation, as if parting the shirt will reveal something too intimate, something more than just skin.

Felix senses your nerves, so he does the rest; he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders, revealing the ink that covers his chest and arms. Normally, he’s confident about his body, but under your gaze, he feels a flicker of vulnerability. You’re studying him, and he can feel the weight of it, like you’re looking past the surface.

“It’s all over you,” you mutter in awe.

One, in particular, seems to draw your attention—the dragon on his ribcage. Felix notices the way your hand lingers there, eyes fixed on the intricate design. He smiles softly, taking your hand and pressing it gently against the dragon.

“Here... feel it,” he says, guiding your touch.

Your fingers trace the lines of the tattoo, feather-light and full of wonder. Every slight graze of your fingertips sends a rush through him, and the way you’re touching him so delicately is like you’re trying to memorize the feel of each tattoo.

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.

“I had no idea I liked tattoos until now,” you innocently answer.

There's something so honest in your words, and Felix can’t help but smile, feeling the tension between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. He watches you as your fingers continue to explore, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a kind of peace in this closeness, like it’s more than just physical. There’s something in the way you touch him, like you’re seeing him for the first time—not just his body, but all the stories inked into his skin.

Then you take your hand back and fidget in your seat. You open your mouth, but no words come out. After a while, you ask, “Should I undress?”

“Only if you want to,” he says, not wanting to pressure you and also trying to make it clear that this is on your terms.

With a shy nod, you start moving, fingers flying to the buttons of your dress, fumbling a little in your nervousness. Felix notices and, sensing your discomfort, turns his head away, giving you the privacy you need. He helps by dimming the lights on your bedside lamp, knowing that a girl like you prefers the softer glow to ease the tension. Now, the room is bathed in a quiet, warm light, making everything feel more intimate, more comfortable.

“Do you need help?” he offers after a moment, his back still to you.

“I’m done anyway,” you respond, your voice softer now.

Felix hears the faint sound of your dress hitting the floor, and he inhales, preparing himself for what he's going to see. He turns his head slowly, careful not to look directly at you until he’s sure you’re comfortable. His eyes first meet yours, searching for any sign that you’re nervous, that you want him to stop, but you hold his gaze, and that’s all the permission he needs. His eyes travel down, finally taking in the sight of you.

The first thing that catches his attention is the unexpected—the matching silk and lace set you’re wearing, soft and delicate against your skin. It’s a contrast to the image he had in mind, and it takes his breath away. The colors, the fabric—it all highlights your natural beauty in a way that almost overwhelms him.

Beautiful. That’s the only word that comes to mind, but even that feels like it doesn’t do you justice. You’re beyond that. You’re captivating in a way that makes him hesitant to even touch you, as if the act itself would somehow break the spell between you.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, his voice trembling with restraint, overwhelmed by how much he desires you but not wanting to rush.

“Okay,” you say, so simply, so openly.

-

The intimacy of the moment is overwhelming. Felix is sitting there, shirtless, and the way he’s looking at you makes your skin tingle. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

After a while, you finally manage to speak. “Should I undress?”

Felix’s gaze is soft, his voice gentle when he responds, “Only if you want to.”

His words reassure you, but still, your hands tremble as you reach for the buttons on your dress. You fumble with them, nervous fingers struggling to move faster. Felix, sensing your discomfort, turns away, giving you a moment to compose yourself. It’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel better, like he understands without needing to be told.

You manage to undo the last button, letting the dress slip down your shoulders and fall to the floor with a soft thud. You glance at Felix, and he still isn’t looking. He’s turned the light down, creating a softer, warmer atmosphere that eases some of the tension in your chest. It’s as if he knows that you’d rather not be fully exposed in the harsh glow of bright light.

“Do you need help?” he asks, his voice careful, like he’s afraid of pushing you too far.

“I’m done anyway,” you reply, your voice shaky but steady enough.

Felix exhales, turning back to face you slowly, almost cautiously. He looks into your eyes first, making sure you’re okay before letting his gaze travel down. When his eyes finally take in the sight of you, you see something shift in him. His expression softens, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost painfully so.

You weren’t sure what he’d expect to see, but the look on his face—like he’s in awe—makes you feel beautiful in a way you’ve never felt before. You're wearing your favorite matching set, silk and lace, in a color that contrasts perfectly with your skin. You chose it thinking you might need something that makes you feel confident, but now, under Felix’s gaze, you wonder if it was the right choice. But then you see the way he looks at you, like you’re something precious, and all your doubts melt away.

“I want to touch you,” Felix says softly, his voice trembling, almost as if he’s afraid to break the moment.

“Okay,” you answer, trying to sound calm even though your heart feels like it’s about to explode.

Felix doesn’t rush. His movements are slow, deliberate. He brushes your hair aside, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. His knuckles trace down your chest, stopping at the center, right between your breasts. His hand rests flat there, and you feel the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, the beat of your heart thudding loudly under his touch.

“You're so beautiful,” he softly murmurs as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel heat spreading across your face. You want to say something, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you just look down, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, by how gentle and caring he’s being.

Felix leans in, and when he kisses you, it’s not rushed. His lips are soft, and the kiss is gentle, as though he’s trying to coax you out of your shell. You kiss him back, a little more confidently this time, the warmth of his body pressing against yours making everything feel more natural.

The more time you spend with Felix, the more certain you feel that you’re in the right place, with the right person. His presence is calming, his touch patient and careful. Every kiss, every gentle brush of his hand against your skin reminds you that he’s giving you all the time in the world. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push you beyond what you’re ready for, and that thought alone is enough to make your heart swell.

Felix holds back so much—it’s evident in the way he slows his movements, adjusting to your hesitance, waiting for you to catch up, to feel comfortable. You notice how he looks at you, always checking, always making sure you’re okay with what’s happening. He’s so understanding that you can feel your insecurities start to melt away, one by one, like the weight of them no longer matters in this space you’ve created together.

As the kissing becomes more intense, your breathing picks up, and the room feels warmer. You feel his strong yet gentle hand resting on your shoulder, his fingers playing with the strap of your bra, and you know what comes next.

This time, you decide to take the initiative and ask, “Do you want me to take these off?”

“If you allow me to,” he answers with a soft smile.

You’ve always known your body isn't the kind men fantasize about, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. “They’re not—They’re not my best features,” you meekly admit.

Felix’s eyes don’t waver, and his smile turns into a playful smirk, one that both teases and comforts at the same time. “How can I know for sure when I haven’t seen them?”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips; he has a fair point, and you can’t argue with him when he looks at you like that—like he sees you, not just the parts you want to hide.

You nod, giving him permission, and lean forward slightly to make it easier for him to reach behind you. His fingers find the clasp of your bra almost immediately, without hassle.

The sound of it unclasping makes your breath hitch, anticipation swirling in the air between you, and then he pulls back just enough to let the bra fall away, his fingers gently sliding the straps down your shoulders. His movements are slow, with excitement simmering underneath, as if he’s unwrapping a precious gift.

And then, you’re bare in front of him, vulnerable in a way that sends a nervous thrill through you.

Felix doesn’t rush to fill the silence. He doesn’t gawk or make you feel exposed. Instead, he looks at you with a soft, quiet admiration that makes your heart flutter.

“They're perfect,” he says, and the sincerity in his praise makes your insecurities seem small, insignificant.

-

Felix's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, bare in front of him. The soft curves of your chest stir something deep inside him, and for a moment, he has to hold back from letting his hands act purely on impulse. He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool, even though the urge to touch you is overwhelming.

“They’re perfect,” he says softly, his voice rougher than he intended. He means it. It’s not about size or shape—he just likes seeing you, just like this.

If he's being honest, you’re not what Felix thought he always wanted. But now, with you in front of him, he finds himself thinking that you’re more than enough—perfect, in fact.

He lets himself lose a bit of that self-control, his hand reaching out, grazing your skin before cupping your breast, his gentle yet curious fingers exploring the softness of your chest. They fit perfectly in his tattooed hands, and he feels heat rising in him.

“See? They’re perfect,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as if to prove the point.

You remain quiet as he touches you, but your eyes go wide, lips parting slightly, and then, unexpectedly, you run your palms over your own breasts, fingers grazing your nipples with a restless, almost nervous motion.

The sight of you touching yourself, so innocently but also with that hidden desire, nearly drives him over the edge. He has to clench his jaw to stop himself from groaning aloud.

"Why are you looking at them like that?" you curiously ask in a shy voice.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice deep and low, almost a growl as he leans in closer, needing to hear you say it.

“Like you want t-to…” You hesitate, stumbling over your words.

“Lick them? Suck them?” he finishes the sentence for you, the words falling from his lips with an intensity that makes you look down at your lap, cheeks heated.

You nod, too shy to say it aloud.

Felix exhales slowly, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Come here!” his voice is rough, almost commanding as he gestures for you to sit on his lap.

Biting your lip, you crawl onto him and sit right on his lap.. You freeze for a moment, probably feeling his hard flesh prodding under you.

"You can ignore that," he tells you, at least for now, but he knows both of you can’t ignore that for long.

Somehow, that thought worries him, and he expected you to sit stiff as a board on his lap, but you immediately settle in close, and when he puts his arm around you, you let out a ragged sigh, instantly melting into him.

Fuck, you're so close, especially that part of you, hanging so close to his mouth. He gulps air and reminds himself to take things slowly. This is about you, not him.

You put your hand under his arm and grasp at his back, your hard nipples grazing his chest in the process, and Felix can’t resist cupping your breasts and rubbing his fingers over them.

Soon, your body softens around him, but his hands grow rough as he touches you, molding you to him as he claims your mouth. The kiss is a savage thing of teeth and tongues, but there’s no hint of protest from you. Instead, you match his roughness for roughness, kissing him back until you run out of breath.

As you come up for air, he covers your nipple with his mouth and sucks hard. He pulls you close so he can do the same with the other one; this time, he has your nipple rolling on his tongue. Oh, he can do it all night, just playing with your soft mounds.

Your fingers make their way through his hair, tugging at it as you arch your back with unconscious demand. It's apparent that you love this, losing your mind over his touches.

Felix lets go of your breast, then drags his lips upward, climbing the column of your throat until they find yours, kissing your mouth with such intensity that it causes you to sharply inhale air.

As he's kissing you, his hands refuse to remain idle. He cups your breasts, stroking the buds until they ache and pinches them, sending a burst of sensation straight to your core. With caution, he takes it to the next level, shifting his focus to another sensitive part of you. He's smoothing a hand over your stomach, and he can feel your muscles clench. Cautiously, he slides a hand up your inner thigh.

“I want to touch you here,” he says while gently palming your sex with a bold grasp, and the heat of his touch spreads through the fabric of your panties, searing hot.

Your hand immediately flies to grip his wrist, intending to pull him away, but your hand stays there; if anything, you pull it back and let it rest on his inked forearm.

“Is that permission?” he whispers into your ear.

He sees the conflict in your eyes. He guesses the reason you hesitate is that this is new to you, and you don't know how to handle this side of yourself. After a while, your body wins over your hesitant mind as your hips arch against his hand, asking him to continue, asking him for more.

He pushes your underwear to the side, and as he kisses your neck, his fingers trace your bundle of nerves, circling it, then applying the gentlest of pressure to test whether you like it or not.

A low moan slips out of you, and he can feel you tugging at his hair, hard.

"Do you want me to keep my hand there?" he asks as he looks into your dazed eyes.

You innocently nod.

"All right. I'll do that," he says with a hasty kiss on your lips. He continues by tracing your slick entrance with his fingertips, touching you there lightly, trailing around and around in dizzying circles.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, barely audible.

Still unable to give him a verbal answer, you nod again.

He aims his parted mouth toward your neck and purposely scrapes his teeth against your skin before he licks and kisses you there, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin.

"Will you let me get inside?" he asks for permission as his fingers tease your entrance.

It's obvious that you want it from the way you're arching your hips against his hand, but he doesn't want to risk losing you to the nerves again; he needs to hear you say it this time.

"Yes," you breathlessly say with a small nod.

With your consent given, his fingers search through your folds, coating them with your essence, and he lingers around your entrance for a little while before pushing one finger into you.

He feels your sharp intake of air as your head rests so close to his, your teeth faintly biting your lower lip to muffle the noises you make.

Felix gives you time to adjust before adding another digit. Two fingers are inside you now, pumping them, and he curls them, finding that spot that makes you...

"Oh!" you gasp, your hand grasping at the end of his hair like it gives you a lifeline. Your legs tremble, causing you to lose your balance, and you almost topple back, but Felix is quick to grip your waist to keep you steady.

The whole thing is so cute. Felix rubs his lips to hide a grin as you steady yourself on his lap and fold your hands in your lap. He knows that if he continues, you’d likely fall to the floor. You're the kind of girl who gets weak when you get hot, and don’t get him wrong; he loves that. If anything, it makes every bit of effort it has taken to get past your guard worth it.

"It's better if we lay down," he suggests as he removes the strand of hair caught between your lips.

"Okay," you say, your voice small and filled with obedience.

Once you get off his lap, Felix takes the lead again. He stretches out near the center of the bed, propping himself up on an elbow, and pats the space next to him. No moment of hesitation this time, you crawl across the bed and lay down next to him.

Felix leans over you and kisses you, starting right back at the beginning with innocent brushes of both of your lips and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again. He wouldn't say you're that great of a kisser, but it's entertaining feeling you learn. You may lack in skill, but you make up for it with your eagerness.

He puts your hand on his bare chest, letting you roam free from there; he needs you to feel him too, how his body heats all over from his desire for you. You drag your hand down his chest, fingers trailing the hard ridges of his abs, and then you keep heading down south, meeting the waistband of his jeans.

Felix is unprepared when your hand suddenly goes to his crotch and strokes over the fly of his pants. Pleasure courses through him, and his cock jumps in excitement, a hoarse groan slipping out of his parted mouth.

He remains calm even though you've just awakened a part of him that he wants to keep tamed, for now. He notices the curious hand and then the curious eyes.

"Want to touch it?" he offers, his eyes half shut, heavy with lust.

"Can I?" you ask back instead of answering.

It's about time to set it free anyway; his jeans have been tightening around the crotch for quite some time. He unzips the fly open, then tugs at the waistband of his jeans and pulls it low enough to let his swollen member out of its confines.

Your hand lingers on his abdomen, hesitating to put your hand on the thing you're curious about.

He takes your hand, puts it on his cock, and then makes you close your fingers around it. The sight of your soft, delicate hand wrapped around his cock makes his heart thrumming inside his chest.

"This is my cock," he says, trying to keep his voice calm.

He guides you to stroke your hand on it, pumping it up and down his length, showing you the pace he prefers: slow but steady. "I want you to tell me when you want it."

You swallow air and look down to see that he's no longer guiding you; you're stroking his cock on your own, and he must say, you're doing so good at it.

He returns the favor by reaching down between your legs, touching you there again. His fingers meet your wetness, hot and slippery, tantalizing him.

After a moment, he decides to hover above you, letting go of your lips to start making a trail of kisses down your front. Your chest is heaving as he gets closer to your core, but he does the unexpected by detaching his mouth.

"Do you mind if I take this off?" he asks, fingers tugging at the elastic band of your underwear.

You lick your swollen lips and lowly mutter, "No."

He flashes you a soft smile before doing what he asked. His palm scrapes up the outside of your leg as he pulls your underwear down. You help by lifting your hips to make it easier for him to take it off.

Felix stands at the end of the bed with your underwear in his hand. He lets you watch as he takes a long sniff of it; you smell so heavenly that he wants this smell all over him. But first, he has to make it fair. He takes his jeans off along with his underwear, exposing his naked body in all its glory for you—just for you.

In return, he gets to see all of you, your body wrapped in miles and miles of soft skin. His eyes feast on every part of you, but you cross your thighs together, blocking him from seeing the thing that tantalized him all night.

He runs his tattooed hands down your legs, offering you his warmth and comfort as a way to assure you that he wants nothing but to make you feel good. When he deems you're relaxed enough, he parts your legs open, and his eyes widen as if he sees something that goes beyond what his brain can comprehend.

"You're so wet for me," he says, swallowing air as the sight suddenly makes his throat dry.

Felix satisfies his need by taking a closer look at it, his eyes darkened and fixated on the thing that endlessly tantalizes him. He licks his lips in reaction to the overwhelming urge to taste you.

He uses his thumb to circle your clit, which engorges with every motion. "It wants my mouth so badly," he tells you, his eyes dark and heavy with lust.

Felix presses his cheek to your inner thigh and, ever so softly, places a long kiss on the skin. It's close to where he wants to be but not enough. His need grows desperate.

"Put us both out of our misery and let me taste you."

-

Felix is perfect. He stands there like carved stone, but his skin is smooth and hot to the touch, firm but giving, alive. His muscles hunch and shift as he moves, and the dragon tattoo winks at you as he steps out of his pants; the motion alone is so sexy. 

This is Felix in all of his naked glory. He is perfection, even that part of him—gosh, especially that part of him. His erection demands your full attention, hard and veiny, in flawless proportion to the rest of his beautiful body. You have never given a man oral sex before, but your mouth waters at the sight of it. You want it. 

You can’t remember how to breathe as he puts his tattooed hands on you, rubbing them up and down the outside of your legs, making you tingle down there. You see how he quietly inhales air before parting your legs open and lets all the air out of his mouth as he shifts his eyes to see what's between your legs. 

It's the most private part of you, and you expect him to see it in disgust, but the way he looks at it... you see nothing but pure admiration. He puts his focus there, needing more time to process what he's seeing. 

"You're so wet for me," he says, barely audible as he holds his breath. 

He bends down close to your wet flesh, making your nervousness spike to heart-pounding levels, and his eyes never stray away from what he wants. Then his thumb meets the peak of your sex, gently rubbing it, and you quietly moan under your breath. 

"It wants my mouth so badly," he says, receiving your body's signals too well. 

The little kisses he places on your inner thighs feel soft, but you can see that it's not quite what he wants; he's so close to it, yet he handles his self-control really well. 

He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, they immediately find yours. Then he murmurs, "Put us both out of misery and let me taste you." 

It hits you now that he truly wants this, you. He likes what he sees, and his craving for your most private parts is real. It's dirty but highly erotic and exciting. You want to give it to him; you do, but you doubt that the reality will meet his expectations. 

“Will you be disappointed if I don’t like it and I don’t respond like other women?” you ask, feeling a little anxious, thinking that you’re about to ruin the moment. Again. 

“If you don’t like it, then we’ll move on,” he simply says, spreading your legs wider and then landing a gentle, closed-mouth kiss on your clit, catching you off guard. 

Your body stiffens for a second, not expecting that sensuous jolt, and then you relax in the next second. 

"Hate that?" he asks with wistful, downturned eyes. 

"I..." You still can't decide if you like it or not; you need more— 

Felix lands another kiss, followed by a slow tasting of his tongue on it. He hums his approval and covers your sex with his mouth, sucking with slight pressure as his tongue laps over your clit, repeatedly. 

Your mind shuts down; your body slowly goes limp as heat blooms inside you, and your face buries in the blanket as the pleasure intensifies. This feeling is new to you; your body is in a state of shock from the immense sensations, and you feel like you're about to cry when he abruptly stops. 

"You don't like it?" he asks after getting no answer from you. "Let me try it another way..." 

Felix pushes two fingers into you, and your eyes roll to the back as he begins a steady pace, combining it with his tongue flickering over your cunt, and somehow, you can’t stop your hips from rising to meet his thrusts. 

Oh God! You're riding his hand and smothering his face with your wet cunt. You tell yourself to stop, but you can't; you find your hands tangled in his long, bleached-blond hair instead. You're tightening around him, so wet now you can hear the slippery sounds every time he pumps his fingers into you. 

"I'll stop," Felix says as he licks his glistening wet lips, then rubs his tongue over you fast and hard, making you clench helplessly around his fingers. 

"Felix..." you breathlessly call his name. You can't believe how needy you sound—almost pathetic even. 

"One last taste..." Felix says before planting his mouth on you again. He sucks with perfect pressure, his tongue cleverly dragging out the pleasure to keep your release out of reach. He presses a parting kiss to your sex and lifts his head, stopping for real this time. 

"Yeah, you look ready now," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper. 

Truthfully, you've been ready for a while now, and you love the idea of demanding his... cock and him providing it; you just can’t get those words past your lips. 

Apparently, the look on your face tells it all. As he props a hand next to your waist, he looks at you and asks, "Do you want it?" 

You stifle a nod, and you're aware that's not enough to convey how much you want it. 

His hand reaches for the strand of hair covering your face and asks again, "Do you want it now?" 

Want, want, want. You eagerly respond in your head, but you force yourself to remain calm and say, "Yes." 

Felix nods and lands a kiss along your jaw, then drags his lips close to your ear. With a hoarse voice, he whispers, "I'll give it to you." 

His warm, soft yet firm body blankets yours as his lips bombard you with kisses, each kiss peeling away your senses along with your worries and insecurities; you eventually stop thinking altogether. 

"Excuse me for a second," he says with a kiss on your lips, getting off the bed to look for something on the bedroom floor. 

As Felix picks up his jeans from the floor, you watch the muscles on his back bunch and shift as he moves, admiring the twin indentations at the base of his spine. The view is nothing compared to when he turns around, showcasing his ethereal visuals and a godly figure of chiseled abs, not forgetting his cock in a size that demands your attention. 

He gets onto the bed, kneeling and using his teeth to tear through the foil packet to extract the condom. 

"Want to help me with it?" he offers, his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room. 

You swallow air and say, "Yes." 

Your hands aren't steady, so you and he end up doing it together, and once you’re both done with it, he pulls you close. You shiver at the feel of your skin coming into contact; your nipples graze his chest, and his length burns against your lower belly. You suddenly feel very self-conscious. 

Felix runs his hands up and down your back as he angles his head, trying to catch your gaze but keeps failing. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” 

You look at the hollow in his collarbone and hunch your shoulders forward. "I feel—I feel naked." 

“We’re both naked," he states the obvious with a light smile. 

You don’t know how to explain that you’re not only feeling naked on the outside but also from the inside, and that if he looks into your eyes, he’d see all of you. No one wants to see that. This is supposed to be fun and educational, not soul-baring.

Felix flashes you a smile as he tilts your head by your chin, and you catch a glimpse of tender eyes before you close yours, knowing that he's about to kiss you. 

Soon, his warm lips brush over yours, tasting of him, you, and sex. His hands caress you, gently kneading the flesh of your waist before grabbing you by the thighs and hooking them around him. 

Slowly, he lowers you onto the bed and then covers your body with his. He places sweet little kisses on your jaw, your neck, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and eventually, your lips. 

“If you don’t like it, if something hurts... I want you to talk to me, okay?" 

As always, you give him a nod before saying the words, "Okay." 

"Okay," he repeats, then sweetly kisses your lips. "Now, can you turn over for me?" 

You obey him, turning over on the bed and lying on your stomach, taking in the sight of the rumpled pillows and wooden headboard. 

"Lift your waist for me, please?" he politely demands, and you do what he asks, lifting your waist off the bed as he slips a pillow underneath. 

It takes you a moment to understand what he's doing. In this position, he chooses not to let him see you, and at the same time, it makes you less self-conscious. 

"Is this better?" he asks as he places a hot kiss on the skin behind your ear. 

"Yes," you say, feeling comfortable already, but you don't think about how you can't see him and what he's going to do to you. 

A low sigh escapes your lips as his rough hand glides down your back and massages the flesh in voluptuous motions. His firm chest brushes against your shoulder blades as he props an arm on the bed next to you. 

You take a deep inhale as his hand reaches between your thighs, his fingers searching through your folds and sinking deep, pumping fresh essence out of you until it drips around them. As if that isn't enough, he teases your clitoris with gentle touches. 

"Felix..." you desperately call his name. 

"You're ready, mmh?" he asks, planting a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. 

Soon, his hard length prods at your entrance and pushes its way inside, painstakingly slow, as if he wants you to feel every inch of that delicious cock stretching you out. 

All this time, you thought sex was repulsive, uncomfortable and painful—something you kept avoiding because your past experiences validated those thoughts—until now. With Felix, you feel nothing but intensifying pleasure even after he is fully sheathed inside you. 

"Oh, you feel too good," he whispers into your ear with a low growl. 

His words make you feel all sorts of things, and you should say something about him too—how good he feels inside you, how he fills you perfectly. You try to speak like he’s asked you to, but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure. Instead, you try to communicate with your body, spreading your thighs wider for him and trying to match him thrust for thrust. 

His tattooed hand propped against the mattress captures yours, and he interlaces both of your fingers together. 

“Now, it's perfect," he whispers. 

For a timeless moment, you're hovering on the brink until orgasm crashes over you. He knows, but he relentlessly drives into you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you can’t quite match his strength and intensity. 

With your eyes closed, you dare to look over your shoulder, and he immediately captures your mouth, stroking his tongue deep into you. Before the last orgasm has finished, you feel another building. You're clenching hard, the tiny muscles fluttering around his cock. 

With a hoarse groan, Felix surges into you one last time, hard and shallow, sending you both to your highs. He rubs his lips against your jaw and neck, then lowers your shaking body to the bed. He holds you, wrapping his tattooed arms around you and drawing you even closer, holding you like his. 

With your eyes still shut, your fingers trail his forearm, feeling the defined muscle and the smooth skin—a combination that is utterly distracting. His scent, his warmth, and his solidness surround you, slowly lulling you into a dreamless sleep. 

Now, it's perfect, you say in your head.

-

Felix breathes in deeply, letting the warm, comforting scent of your space envelop him as he burrows into the sheets, a happy sigh escaping his lips.

Slowly, he pushes himself up from the bed, and your room looks slightly different basked in the morning sunlight. Like this, he can see the colors of the books on the shelf, the hats and scarves hanging on the bedroom door, and the succulents you keep on your windowsill. Under a different light, your room looks a lot more alive.

It's also illuminating the memories of last night—your shared laughter, the sweet sounds of pleasure that echoed around him, the rustles of the sheets as your naked bodies tangled under the duvet. A rush of warmth fills him at the recollection, but as he looks around, reality settles in: he is in your room, in your apartment, and he shouldn’t overstay his welcome.

Collecting his clothes from the floor, he dresses methodically, and once in a while, he can't help but glance back at the bed where you shared such an intimate night.

Once he's decent, he steps out of the bedroom, finding you right away in the kitchen. Your hair is in a messy bun, glasses perched slightly askew on your nose, and you're dressed in a simple white t-shirt and pajama pants. You are focused on reading something on your phone while quietly eating from a bowl.

“Morning,” he greets, his voice deeper in the morning air, startling you slightly.

“Morning,” you reply, a soft smile lighting up your face.

As he continues buttoning his shirt, he slides onto a vacant stool at the small dining table.

“Orange juice?” you offer, “or do you prefer coffee?”

“Not a coffee person,” he honestly replies, and you immediately pour him a glass of orange juice, your movements easy and familiar.

You turn around to put the carton of juice back into the fridge and come back with a plate of breakfast for him, serving it in front of him.

“I don’t know what you like for breakfast, but this is what I usually cook for my roommate,” you say, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast toward him.

“Wow! Thank you,” he says in utter gratitude.

Felix can’t recall the last time he enjoyed a nice breakfast with the person he had a one-night stand with; usually, he’d be gone before his partner even woke.

He glances toward the door of your roommate’s bedroom, wondering if she's inside.

“The birthday girl isn’t home yet?” he asks as he lifts his fork.

“She’s probably staying over at one of her friends,” you reply, your tone casual, suggesting you are used to this arrangement.

Felix finds it convenient this way. He enjoys the intimacy of just the two of you in the calm of the morning. The presence of another person would only ruin that.

“Is that what you usually have for breakfast?” he asks, peeking into your bowl, which contains slices of fruit, granola, and yogurt.

“Yes,” you answer with a small smile.

“Ah, that explains…” he absentmindedly says, not realizing the implications of his words until you catch his gaze.

“Explain what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

“Uh... that explains why you’re so smart,” he lies with a casual smile, hoping to brush off any suspicion.

The truth is, your diet explains why you smell and taste so good; the thought makes him bite back a smile, recalling the events of last night.

"Oh..." your reaction is a mix of surprise and gratitude, but he's still unsure if you understand the meaning behind his words. If you do, just know that it's a compliment.

After breakfast, Felix uses your bathroom for a quick wash-up and retrieves his jacket from the sofa. He adjusts his shirt before putting it on, realizing the time has come to leave, even though he wants to stay longer.

With heavy steps, he approaches you as you stand by the door, sensing the moment is drawing to a close.

Your eyes are on him, but your hands are clasped behind your back, your eyes shimmering with a different kind of light than when he first met you. They seem more alive now, filled with warmth.

“I want to thank you for last night,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face as the memory flashes through your head as it does for him.

“No need to thank me,” he replies. He refuses to accept your thanks when you're not the only one gaining something from last night.

“We had fun last night,” he remarks, not fully realizing he is speaking for both of you.

“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I had fun last night,” he corrects himself with an awkward laugh, pressing a hand to the pulse point on his neck out of nervousness.

“I had— I had fun last night,” you shyly remark, looking away for a second to compose yourself before looking back at him, a shy smile still lingering.

“That's good to know,” he replies, catching your shyness as it creeps into his demeanor.

A moment passes in silence as you look at each other. He has so many things to say, but no words are spoken. He can see that you're struggling to fathom your thoughts into words too.

“Felix,” you call in a different tone from the way you called him last night, yet it makes his heart flutter the same.

“Yes?” he answers, his heart beating in anticipation.

You open your mouth, but no words come out, then close it again, thinking hard about whether to say it or not.

“You can talk to me,” he assures you, his hand flying to your elbow and gently holding it.

Taking a deep breath, you finally close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a quick, unexpected kiss.

The surprise electrifies him, but the briefness leaves him wanting more. He quickly decides it's best to ask for forgiveness later rather than permission. He cups your jaw and leans in for a proper kiss; eventually, his lips meet yours in a kiss that means so much more than that: it's a tender connection that feels just right.

As much as he likes it, he knows he has to let go eventually. He slowly pulls away, only to see a smile blooming on your face, and his lips reflexively follow suit, smiling back at you.

“I hope that’s okay,” he murmurs, but he knows he's not sorry at all for what he did.

You nod, your smile shy yet genuine. "That’s—”

Suddenly, the door swings open, and Rex stumbles in, making a ruckus with her arrival as the keys jangle in her hand and her shoes drop onto the floor, oblivious to the intimate moment unfolding between you two.

“Oh?” she gasps, stopping in her tracks when she finally notices the two of you. Her eyes glance between you and Felix.

“Oh!!!” she exclaims again when she recognizes Felix as the guy you kissed for a dare last night.

Realizing she's interrupted something private, she hurriedly clutches her purse close to her chest and dashes into her bedroom, shouting, “I’m not here!”

The moment is shattered nonetheless, and Felix knows he can't stay here for as long as he wants, not when your roommate is now present.

“I'd better go,” he says, even though he hasn’t planned anything beyond that.

“Okay,” you say in a way that makes you sound defeated.

“Okay,” Felix repeats, hoping you would say something to extend the moment just a bit longer.

But good things often come to an end. Felix shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a good look at you one last time, imprinting it in the back of his mind.

“It was nice to meet you,” he earnestly says with one hand on the doorknob.

“Me too,” you reply, your smile soft and genuine, lingering in his thoughts even as he steps out of your life.

At least, for now.

-

Here you are again, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club with Rex and her friends. You’re still the same shy, nerdy girl, yet somehow, you handle the scene better now. It's a familiar chaos, except that tonight, it's harder to ignore Felix’s absence.

Noticing that you're not having fun like everyone else, Rex leans in closer to talk against the loud music playing in the club.

“Are you disappointed that he’s not here?” she asks, her alcohol-tinted breath brushing your ear.

“Why should I be disappointed?” You scoff, trying to mask the truth. But deep down, you are counting every second since you walked in without seeing him.

“You think I didn't know that you’ve been secretly watching the door?" Rex chuckles, almost spitting her drink. "Or the way you get a little excited whenever you spot a blonde guy?"

Guilty as charged. You are caught, but admitting it feels like opening a wound. You tried not to dwell on it, convincing yourself it was just a one-night stand and these feelings... they'll eventually fade, right?

“Don’t worry,” Rex says as she gently squeezes your knee. “He’s probably still on the way.”

“He didn’t even ask for my number, Rex,” you confess, finally voicing the disappointment that has been gnawing at you ever since that day.

“Then fuck him!” she exclaims, fierce as always. “There are plenty of cute guys, and I'm sure we can find one tonight.”

"No, thank you," you flatly reject the offer.

"Why not?" Rex asks, her eyes studying you.

You scoff again, but inside, the truth lingers: you're still hung up on him.

“Because you’ve already drunk too much," you choose to lie instead, taking her drink from her hand.

Suddenly, someone enters the booth, and you recognize him instantly, even with his bleached hair slicked back. Your heart leaps at the sight of Felix. He looks just as perfect as you remember, but doubt creeps in. Does he remember that night as vividly as you do?

He stands across the table, drink in hand, smiling at you, but you manage a polite smile back, not wanting to set yourself up for another disappointment.

“How about a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” he suggests out of the blue, his deep voice drawing everyone’s attention.

"Yes, let's do that!" Rex enthusiastically responds while raising her drink higher in front of her.

Felix trails the rim of his glass with his tattooed finger as he thinks of something, and a while later, his eyes fiercely stare at you with a sly smile dancing on his face.

“Never have I ever... made out with a guy in a dark alley, bumped my head on a crate, gotten three stitches, and still proceeded to give him a night he can’t forget?”

A rush of warmth washes over you, either from his eyes that don’t stray away from yours even for a second or the fact that he still remembers everything. You smile nonetheless, feeling the flutter in your chest returning.

Everyone goes silent, glancing around, unsure who might have done that, except for Rex, who squeals next to you like a giddy child.

“I have,” you confidently say, out loud with a proud smile.

You take the drink from Rex’s hand and drink it in one go, wincing at the bitter aftertaste but recovering quickly.

You daringly stare back into his eyes as you take the next turn. “Never have I ever regretted not asking someone for their number?”

“I have,” he replies without missing a beat and downs his shot in one gulp.

Felix places the empty glass on the table, walks over to you, and holds his hand out to you. “Now, I dare you to come with me.”

It isn't a dare when it's exactly what you want; it's a wish come true. You take his inked hand, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin, and let him lead you away from the table and into the night.

In the dark alley where it all started, Felix pulls you close until your bodies collide, wrapping his arms around you. Impatiently, he kisses you hard and deep, full of longing.

The kiss is intoxicating, even better than you remember, and as he steers you away from the crates lining the alley to avoid any mishaps, you softly laugh.

Felix leans his back against the brick wall and holds you close, his face lingering only inches away from yours, breath mingling in the cool night air.

“Let’s avoid visiting the hospital tonight,” he playfully says.

In that dark alley, with the world falling away around you, you realize you don’t want this to ever end. You lean in, capturing his lips once more, and you melt into the kiss, bracing yourself for what you're about to ask and the answer you'll get.

“So, what now?” you ask, your fingers caressing his cheek, tracing the contours of his face.

“We can start by finishing the poem,” he says, a playful glint filling his eyes, reminding you of the lines you have barely gotten through that night.

You grin as the weight of the time you spent worrying about not seeing him again lifts off your shoulders. “Okay, but I think I need a new beginning for this one.”

This time, you know what you want, and what you want is more nights like this, more moments, and more of whatever this is between you and him, and that’s the only dare you're doing tonight: to find out what that is.

-

“(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.”

-

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