݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .☽ fae trap ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖
{ Pairing } - Elf!Felix x Witch.afab!Reader
{ Genre } - Smut, Dark, Fantasy
{ Synopsis } - It is said, that if you ever find yourself inside of a fairy ring. The fae will punish you, by making you dance until you are passing out from exhaustion. But when you find yourself doing a different kind of 'dance' on the ground, in the middle of one, with the most beautiful creature you've ever seen you might add, you wonder; is this truly a punishment?
{ WC } - 7.7k
{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, aphrodisiac effects, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), rough/hard sex, overstimulation, big dick felix, dacryphilia, talk of breeding & mating, talking of mating rituals, please don't touch fly agaric mushrooms, srsly they're toxic and deadly, possible incorrect french usage.
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.
{ A/N } - For the love of all things skz.
DO NOT EVER TOUCH FLY AGARIC/AMANITA MUSCARIA MUSHROOMS. THEY ARE TOXIC. DEADLY.
This is also probably the darkest thing I've written on this account so far. But it doesn't feel inherently evil to me personally??? But it is enough to warrant a TW! This started off as a birthday oneshot for Felix. I'm starting to think I'm no good at oneshots. This could be left alone, but it could also be a series... I have so many world building thoughts, but idk if I wanna do that. What do you think?
Dusk was approaching as you made your way home from your walk.
You were blessed to own a cute little home, right on the edge of a beautiful and mysterious forest. Every day you were able to take nature walks, wandering through the treeline, exploring the vegetation. Collecting materials, making sure never to take too much of what the woodland had to offer. And caring for as much as you could, though you knew you were not essential to the survival of wilderness itself.
That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there.
You never brought anything with you to permanently invade nature. Instead you wrapped your daily essentials in a little bindle. It usually contained a hearty snack, a book or two, endless vials and jars, your cell, and a small emergency kit. Homemade salves, balms, and tonics included.
You always had some new shiny objects for your crow friends, making sure to exchange the gifts they left for you at your designated spot. And you always made sure to leave some nuts and seeds for the various rodents who liked to stuff their cheeks. Again, you didn't need to, but they really liked sweet black walnuts and salty peanuts in the shells. Who were you to deny them that treat!
Some days you brought select crystals with you, cleaning and recharging them in the streams of spring water. Other days you'd use that same water, sealing it in jars and leaving it nearby to make moon water overnight. Those were about the only two things you ever left in the forest, always making sure to come back the next day and retrieve them.
You always carry a little basket with you too. The forest was abundant in ingredients for many different things. Your favorite is mushrooms and fungi.
There were many times you'd find a log of an oak tree, fallen over and resting on the ground. A bunch of chicken of the woods growing on it. You'd collect them, taking them home to cook for dinner or other meals.
Other days you'd find lion's mane, and make sure to gather some for your favorite tincture to make and take. It did wonders for your anxiety.
You were a green witch through and through, and you were raised this way. You drew your energy and essence from nature, always taking little bits of it home.
Today was no different. Forgoing mushrooms, you instead had bundles of mugwort and a jar full of mulberries in your wicker basket. Wrapped in a little cloth were a bunch of spicebush berries.
You were nearing the last clearing within the woods, your house was about a ten minute walk away at this point.
The soft moss against your bare feet was grounding, and you were listening to the buzz and crackle of nightlife within the forest. Your white skirt ended at your knees, flaring out. The chiffon is blowing in the cool breeze. It was still tshirt weather, and that's exactly what you wore on top. A fitted one, pale and muted ivy green. You gave up on bras long ago, you were a solitary creature anyways. The friends who did visit never cared about your attire.
You were in your own world, playing a balancing game on a stump and humming to yourself, when flashes of red caught your eye.
In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric.
Your heart fluttered at this rare find. You walk past this clearing daily, and never noticed any of the red mushrooms with white speckles there before.
Eagerly, you approach. In the back of your mind, warning bells are going off. Thinking back to childhood, of the stories your mom once told you of the fae folk. You'd encountered fairy rings before, but never of this type of mushroom, and never broken ones. Certainly never one so big. You never breached the little white rings in the past, not wanting to mess with entities so possibly mischievous.
But it would be fine right? This might not even be considered a fairy ring. It was sort of... circle-ish? But not really. There were so many gaps in between them, it wasn't a perfect circle like you'd seen in the past. And these mushrooms were so rare and so powerful, in so many ways. You could feel their energy radiating around you.
You glanced around, searching for any signs of immortal creatures lurking near. You saw and heard nothing, but that would be typical. They never willingly reveal themselves, in fact... You've never seen one. You've never seen any kind of fae folk. It's not that you didn't believe in them, you were sure some form of them existed. Afterall, you practice a form of magick. Your own form, and that exists.
You were convinced all mythical creatures either exist or had existed, the idea of them couldn't come from nothing. Not when they were in so many stories across all different cultures.
You paused for a few more moments, really trying to feel any negative energy. There was none, there was never any in your little forest.
So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out.
Nothing.
You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth.
They all varied in size, some were large with bulbous caps. Some were shorter, and had flatter caps. Each mushroom, you made sure to pick with a cloth barrier between them and your fingers. These could be deadly if used the wrong way or taken in excess. You had no idea what would happen if you came into direct contact with it, on your bare skin.
You really should start carrying gloves with you.
You made your way around the broken circle, humming in between giggles, and unconsciously dancing. You were nearly prancing each bare step to the next.
If you had paid more attention to your mothers tales, you'd realize the consequences of stepping inside a fairy ring were already taking effect.
You were collecting more than you needed now, your basket was overflowing. But still, you didn't want to stop. You felt strangely overcome with merriment. You never felt more at home in these woods than this moment.
You mindlessly set your basket down, your humming growing in volume. You looked to the sky, as you allowed your body to sway back and forth. Arms stretched out towards the waning moon, coming to life in the dark sky surrounding you.
Your eyes closed, soaking in the moonlight. And you brought your arms back down, letting them float at your sides as you twirled, and twirled. Your skirt flutters up to reveal your thighs even more, hair whipping in your face. You revelled in the feeling of the squishy dirt beneath your feet. You felt grounded, but as if you were flying all at the same time.
You don't know when your solitude was breached, or if you were ever truly alone in the first place, but you finally noticed his presence when his hands intertwined with yours.
He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles.
He was nearly glowing, strawberry colored lips revealing the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. His long, straight white hair framed his face stunningly, tendrils of it outlining his strong jaw line. And his face... so, perfect. He had hundreds of freckles splashed across his cheeks, nose and eyes. Even some scattering up to his hairline, and down to his chin. You'd imagine you could create many constellations with them, like the stars that twinkle in the night sky. He adorned various jewelry, all silver. In his ears, and a cuff across the bridge of his nose. He even wore a gorgeous crown that laid across his forehead as a head piece. It was thin, and wiry, made up of gorgeous silver filigree that shone in the moonlight. You knew that the rings you felt in between your fingers would be silver too.
He wore all white. You couldn't be sure exactly what his outfit was, but his shirt was a flowing lace up top. Revealing delicate collar bones and toned chest. It was mostly a blur in the midst of his movements.
Your gasp was delayed, only coming out when he pulled you closer to him. Your hand remains in his, while his arm is wrapped around your waist. You were nearly flush with him, feeling the rest of his chiseled torso against your plush body. But he kept your face at some distance to maintain eye contact. The smile never slipped from his lips.
He has you captivated, and the two of you don't falter in your melodic movements once. His eyes bore into you, dark and sharp. Yet he exuded a certain softness, and you found yourself lost in the moment. It didn't seem real.
But it was.
You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on.
You were hearing him. He was humming the same tune you were, an old lullaby your mom used to sing to you. His voice was deep, and even, harmonizing with your breathy high pitched voice beautifully.
You were feeling him. He was touching you, his hand interlocked with yours. His grip around your waist is gentle but possessive. He held you like he didn't want to break you, but knew if he was too loose, you'd go running.
Though you weren't so sure you would run.
Your mind was racing. There's no way you could stumble across a perfect stranger, who was immediately dancing with you, so close to the edge of the forest. So close to your house. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination. A side effect of being surrounded by so many toxic mushrooms.
The mushrooms.
That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears.
His aura, his energy, his perfect pixie-like features. You noticed the point of his ears now, the glittery sheen to his skin. His smile is full of white pointed teeth, dull now, but you could tell they were once sharper in the past. His slight cat-like eyes, giving them that sharp look even though everything else about him screamed delicate.
Your humming stopped, but his didn't. Your mother's voice is filling your head, and you were repeating the words she once told you so long ago.
'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.' you whispered quietly.
His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes.
He finally spoke, his chest vibrating against yours, "Wise words, from a magnificent young lady."
He had an accent, you couldn't quite place it. Something between old english and australian. It made you want to melt.
He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground.
You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth.
"Who are you?" You ask curiously.
"Who?" He chuckles, "Usually it's 'what are you', that people ask me. Though it's been almost a century since I have revealed myself to a mortal."
A century? Your mouth dries, and you feel something akin to fear course through your veins. But you aren't scared of him for some reason. Wary, suspicious, but not scared.
"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm."
You want to get angry at that comment. You'd like to consider yourself well informed and educated on all supernatural and magickal subjects. There'd always be more to learn though, and the human brain simply could not grasp it in its entirety. So he wasn't wrong.
You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues.
"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures.
"You're a fairy?" You whisper, wonder dazzling in your voice.
At that he laughs again, and you swear you hear small chimes behind it.
"An elf. I believe that is the universal name humans gave us. Not all fae are fairies, there are others too."
As he speaks, he lets go of your hand, bringing his fingers up to brush strands of hair from your face. His touch is warm, for some reason that shocks you.
"Elf." You repeat, not a question, but a statement.
He hums, in agreement and starts to twirl you around again. His hand resting on your cheek, thumb brushing featherlight touches against it.
You're trying very hard to wrap your head around the entire scenario. You shouldn't be surprised. You've dealt with other worldly things in the past. Spiritual realms are completely different from anything having to do with the fae world though.
Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening.
"Am I being punished?" You lip quivers as you speak, "I-I was just trying to collec-"
He's bringing his head down, his forehead meeting yours. You feel the cold bite of the silver headpiece touching your skin. It's enough to shut you up.
"Shhh, darling. Don't view it as a punishment."
"I don't want to dance until I pass out." You slowly say, even though your body feels otherwise.
Underneath the initial shock and caution, you still felt that overwhelming happiness. It was borderline euphoric... and strangely arousing.
Everything happening inside your mind and body right now was so confusing. You were feeling lost, and found yourself clinging to the man--the elf, before you.
"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children."
French? This being was a riddle.
"I don't understand." You force out.
He leans back a bit, so he can look into your eyes and your thighs clench, "We tell the kids, fae and human, that if a mortal is caught within our rings. They dance to exhaustion. The humans carried this myth with them into adulthood, while our kind later learned the truth of these special rings."
He's still dancing with you, moving your body elegantly to a now imaginary song. Leading you in something reminiscent of a waltz, but you can barely focus on that when his touches are electric against your skin.
"The truth?" You ask.
He's dipping you down now, bending with your body as he once again is peering into your eyes. At first you think it's part of the dance. Until your back meets the land that was underneath your feet. The mixture of smells was potent. The scent of damp moss, and semi-sweet foliage filling your nose.
He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing."
The timbre of his voice was pooling wetness in your panties. You felt beads of sweat forming on your brow, and you were bewildered at how your body was reacting right now. It didn't make sense.
His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again.
"What better way to set the mood than a passionate dance, and in this case, under the moonlight?"
You whimpered, feeling disoriented and needing his touch.
"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble.
He chuckled, and you felt his breath puff against your lips, "It's unimportant darling, but since you're so... alluring. You can call me Felix... I'd love to hear it rolling off your tongue when I make you cum."
You were mewling at the thought of fucking this mystical being, when you felt his lips against yours.
He was almost lazy in the way he kissed you. Seemingly in no rush at all. And it's not that you were complaining, but you wanted more. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his body flush with yours.
He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access.
"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more."
You knew it was absurd to lust after a man--an elf, gods how could you keep forgetting that, that you just met. But your body was burning and it felt like he was your only rescue.
His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch.
He had your leg wrapped around him, his hand trailing down the back of your thigh and his lips attached to your neck. He was marking you with what you imagined to be the most beautiful bruises. You were panting at this point, and it felt ridiculous to be this turned on by so little. By a stranger. But it didn't make you want to stop.
His fingers reached the edge of your panties, and you gasped. You felt his smile again, he was enjoying every bit of this. You felt powerless to his strokes against you. Your hips were bucking up, chasing for friction.
His hand gripped your hip tightly, fingers squeezing into your flesh, pinning you further into the dirt.
You hissed before whining, begging "Please."
"I said be patient." His voice was stern as he spoke against your ear.
It still didn't stop you from squirming beneath him, your mind wasn't registering anything beyond wanting to feel him filling you up.
He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it.
"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this."
He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
"A-aaah!" You were moaning loudly, his movements jarring.
"This is what you wanted darling, isn't it?" He's muttering against your lips now, slipping his fingers into you.
Your body feels more alive than ever, waves of pleasure washing over you. His fingers skillfully curl inside you, while his thumb works your sensitive bud. Swipe after swipe, eliciting more and more of your arousal onto his hand.
His kiss is searing, and feels like the only thing currently keeping you anchored to your body. You felt your orgasm building quickly, the band growing tighter and tighter in your stomach. It felt like you'd float away when it snapped.
You can't contain the lewd noises you're making. Between the moans he's swallowing from your lips, and the loud squelching from between your thighs, it was deafening. Or maybe it was just that your ears were ringing.
It felt like only seconds later when he brought you over the edge, his movements slowing but never stopping. You're whining, and your legs are trembling but you don't want him to stop. You're nearing over sensitivity and when you close your eyes, you see nothing but stars.
All you can think of are the freckled constellations on his cheek.
You feel drunk on this moment, and you don't want it to end. It's as if he knows exactly where your mind is when he speaks again.
"You're not done little dove, don't you worry your pretty little head."
When you open your eyes, and tilt your head up, his shirt and pants are discarded. Revealing a dizzying body. He was lithe yet chiseled. His body is almost dainty, but each muscle is carved in the most irresistible way. His abs were glorious, your eyes trail lower, following the v cut. You notice the faint spattering of a happy trail, and your eyes follow it.
And fuck.
You've never been one to view someones cock as pretty but... his was. The tip was so swollen and pink, and leaking generous amounts of precum. Faint blue veins prominent along the shaft, and he stood tall and proud. His girth made you wonder if you could handle the stretch. It had been a while since you'd last been intimate.
He brought his hand, covered in your slick, to his member. Spreading it all over in a mixture with his precum, making it glisten. Your mouth started to water, and your legs spread wider for him. You pulled your skirt completely up, presenting yourself to him.
His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly.
"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile.
There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you.
Then he was on top of you again, cock sliding into you. Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and you wailed, a mix of pain and pleasure. But it was so satisfying, you couldn't get enough. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, and he was thrusting into you at a brutal pace.
Your back was digging into the ground, and you started to feel bits of grass and dirt against your skin. You pulled against him, trying to adjust yourself so you could lose yourself in the dance you two were now performing.
He pulled out of you, and sat back on his knees, that's when you noticed his clothes underneath him. You had no idea he was wearing a cape earlier. It was sprawled out, creating a barrier between him and the ground.
He picked you up, and positioned you to straddle his lap, facing him. Then he slid back into you, your eyes rolled back, and you let out a filthy moan.
This position felt more intimate but still desperate, he was reaching deeper into you. The head of his cock pistoning against your g-spot. It felt so good you could cry.
You were crying, you realized.
"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?"
"Yes!" You sob.
He's wiping the tears from your eyes with his fingers, and smiling at you like you're the most precious thing on this planet.
"That's right, pretty. So pretty when you cry." He groans out, and his pace grows faster, rougher.
His hand dips down between you, and he's toying with your clit now. In any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed by the way your body uncontrollably trembles. Your muscles are spasming at his touch. You just couldn't bring yourself to care, he was making you feel too good.
"Darling," He purred, as he slowed his thrusts and pinched your clit between two fingers, rolling it, "I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum for me, can you do that?"
You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you.
At that he started fucking into you harshly, almost painfully, and you were coming undone with a loud cry on top of him. Your body tensed, nails digging into his shoulders, struggling not to throw your head back. His hand that was playing with you, gripped your jaw, smearing your own arousal on your face.
He was making sure you kept your word, maintaining your gaze on his while you clenched around him. Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to keep them open. He was biting his lip, eyebrows scrunched together as he fucked you through your orgasm. Watching your face contorted in pleasure.
"So tight." He grunted.
You were scratching at him now, nails dragging down his shoulders. And your mouth was hung open in a silent scream, your voice having given up on you.
It was becoming overwhelming.
You still didn't want it to stop.
"I know you can take it darling, take it." He growled, gripping both your hips now to steady you.
So you did, until you were limp in his arms, and he was releasing into you with a groan.
Your head was resting on his shoulder. Sweaty skin sticking to each other, and he was soothing you. Humming and stroking your hair gently. You were breathing heavily, trying to come down from this mind blowing experience. But you weren't descending, not mentally. You were still riding that high, stuck in a lust filled haze.
He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard.
His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet."
You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements.
"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"
"Yes." You breathed.
"I can fix that."
You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty.
He was positioning you to lay down on his clothes, taking care that no part of you touched the ground. You just let him handle you, molding your pliant body however he wanted it.
His hands were rubbing down your arms, and he was smiling down at you. When you met his eyes, you couldn't explain the exact emotions you were feeling. You'd let this man take your soul if he asked right now.
He was licking his lips as his hand trailed back to your core. You gasped again, then whined when he dragged his fingers through your swollen folds. His touch was almost massaging, yet sensual. He was touching everywhere, teasingly avoiding your sensitive bud.
The more he touched you, the more you writhed. And sensing another comment about how you can't be still or patient, you yanked him down to you so you could kiss him.
You were tired of just laying there, you wanted to start giving. To start touching.
You didn't know where all this stamina came from, but you were determined to use it. You jerked your hips up, leaning more into his touch.
It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements.
He was still slick with your cum. And you used that to give him slow strokes.
He let out a hoarse moan against your lips, before pressing his fingers directly on your clit, rubbing in small circles. He was matching your tempo directly. You whined into the kiss, your hand picking up pace. Pumping him faster now, and he followed your lead.
Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away.
He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core.
"So pretty, even here darling."
You were blushing at his words, but you couldn't take your eyes off of his, as he stared at you from between your thighs.
"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove."
And you felt his tongue lave through your folds. It was gentle and it felt hot, and it drove you crazy. The flicks of his tongue against your clit were maddening, and you wanted more.
Your hips started slowly moving against his face, and this time he let you. He lets you roll your hips, and grind against his face. His tongue flattened against you, and you slid your hand into his blindingly white locks. You started grinding against him harshly, losing all sense and control of your body and just focusing on climaxing.
He let himself be used by you, and as your grip in his hair tightened, so did that feeling in your stomach. You felt another orgasm come over you, and he let you ride it out, quite literally.
You expected to start feeling spent by now, but you didn't. So before he could climb back up your body to kiss you, you were sitting up and pushing him onto his back.
He landed on it with a thud, puffing out air and looking at you incredulously.
You let the primal urges take over as you lowered yourself onto your stomach, and took his member in your hand. You licked up the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his. He groaned as you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head.
You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips.
"Fuck..." He whispered.
"Let me return the favor." You mumbled before you took his tip between your lips.
You let your tongue swirl over it a few times, savoring his taste. He brought his hand down to your face, and pushed your hair back for you.
You let your tongue run down the underside of his cock, and you sunk your mouth onto him. You had completely engulfed him, and were struggling not to gag. Still, you never intended to stop.
He was grunting as your head bobbed up and down on him, saliva collecting at the corners of your mouth and dripping down to pool at his pelvis.
"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned.
He lets you keep at your own pace for a while longer before he starts thrusting into you. He kept your head in place, and you gagged and tears started running down your cheeks. Each stroke became more and more erratic, until ropes of his hot cum were shooting down your throat.
He pulled you off of him and you gulped down breaths of air. He was caressing your cheek, swiping a mix of tears, spit and cum from your lips before kissing you.
That's how you both continued throughout the night. Pleasuring each other, nearly non-stop, under the moonlight. Your mind was fractured, nothing else but him existed inside of it. He'd touched, fondled, massaged, and embraced you, until you could only respond with breathy whispers of his name.
"Felix..." You sighed, when he was bringing feeling back to your numb legs by massaging them.
"Felix..." You moaned, as he slowly took you as you both laid on your sides.
"Felix..." You screamed as you came undone on top of him, riding him roughly.
He took you in many different positions, and you indulge yourself in each one. When he wasn't fucking you, you were whining in complaint and going down on him. If he wasn't going down on you, he was edging you with his fingers. Your hands never left each other's bodies, always needing connection. You were sure he was just as familiar with your body as you were by this point.
The exhaustion finally hit when he had you on your back in a mating press. The last thing you remember, is staring up into the twilight sky. Dawn was approaching, the stars were disappearing before your eyes, as the golden glow of the sun started to peek through.
Your eyes were fluttering as you fought unconsciousness, determined to finish fucking this completely ethereal creature. Felix was barely putting in an effort to fuck you, but he still slid in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, as if he wanted to keep your orgasm at bay. You both wanted to extend this moment in time, but your body wouldn't have that.
When you finally let go, cumming on his cock for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when your eyes shut and you gave into the exhaustion.
The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to.
Your bedroom, permanently infused with your favorite scent to burn, that's where you were. The familiar feel of your sheets beneath you, and your heavy comforter confirmed that.
Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest.
That's when you feel a body next to you and your eyes shot open.
"Felix?" You croaked, your voice dry and hoarse.
He was laying next to you on his side, in your bed, in your house.
He had the blankets pulled up to his waist, and was resting his head on his hand. Elbow propped up, so he could see you better. He was shirtless and he wore that same smile on his face, like he was so fond of you.
"Is that still the only thing you can say, little dove?" He whispered teasingly.
"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches.
You hiss at the burning sensation you felt between your legs. And your legs, gods, you don't think that they've ever felt so sore.
"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up.
He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink.
You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were.
"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more."
"More?" You questioned him.
"I did clean you up last night, I'm not a monster. The bath will help ease your muscles." He chuckled.
"How did you even know where I live?"
"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles."
You still felt guarded around him, even after the night you shared. If the stories your mother told you turned out to be partially true, you could only imagine what other lore could turn out to be true.
Now this mischievous creature knew where you lived, he was in your home.
"I know this is your sacred space little dove, I don't intend to intrude. However, I couldn't exactly leave you in the state you were in. How are you feeling? Is your head a little clearer?" He spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your hair.
It is. Almost all of that dazed feeling was gone, you felt more lucid. In that clarity though, a rush of embarrassment hit you. You felt your skin heat up at the more clear memories of last night.
You were never the type for hookups or one night stands, yet the things you did with this perfect stranger... This perfect magickal stranger... they felt unspeakable. You'd never lost yourself so completely in someone else's presence, much less with your own... sessions.
You hide your face in your hands and rub at your temples, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Of your own feelings. You didn't exactly regret it or hate it. Something still felt off. Not only was the entire act abnormal in general, and downright questionable. But it was so out of character for you. Did he use... compulsions? Did he have that type of magick?
"Thinking too hard will just exhaust you more." He said.
"Look..." You sigh, as you turn to face him, "I'm a little lost here, I don't know what to make of this all."
Next thing you know, he's off the bed. He's picking you up in his arms, and you notice you're both still nude. Your face flushes again at that, and you struggle a bit in his arms.
"Be calm darling, I'm just taking you to the tub. We can talk about it all."
You let him place you in the tub, and then he's sliding in behind you. Slotting you between his legs. He's pulling you back towards him, so you lay against his chest. You both sit like that for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the bath and getting used to each other in a new type of intimate way.
You should be kicking him out of your house. You should be cussing him out. Defending yourself, but why didn't you feel the need to defend yourself against him? Why were you drawn to him?
When you think about the facts, some would say you were attacked last night. I mean there's a reason the Fae call it a punishment You didn't feel attacked though. You enjoyed yourself, as crazy as that is to say.
You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent.
How do you come to terms with actually feeling okay with this whole thing, when you knew you shouldn't be?
"You're a witch, right?" He suddenly asks you, breaking your train of thought.
"I am... though I'm beginning to question the validity of that title, seeing as I have an actual magical creature behind me." You mumble.
You knew the magick you practiced was real. You could feel it. It's not like you could create fire though, or move things, or transfigure things in front of you. You weren't even sure Felix could do any of that as an elf. You weren't sure of anything anymore.
You felt like you were entering an existential crisis. Panic was starting to settle within you when you felt his chest vibrate with laughter, it was an oddly soothing sensation that you know you've felt before.
"No, you are. I can sense it, it's in your blood. It took me a while to piece it together, but you are a witch through and through. Sometimes humans don't know of their tie to the magickal world, but I figured... from your altar, among other objects and ingredients I've noticed here, that you knew."
You hummed, your mother always told you that you were a part of a long line of witches. She raised you heavily within her practice. You never doubted her, but somehow this new revelation made it so much more real. You realize this was opening a whole new aspect in your own practice. A hidden world, seemingly waiting for your return.
"Is that why you came to me? Because you sensed a witch was near?" You questioned him, your hands playing with the water.
"No, you stepped inside my fairy ring. I have to say I was shocked. I placed it in, what I thought was, an inconspicuous area. I hadn't realized your home was nearby."
"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain." You sighed.
"Well... you already know what I told you yesterday. The stories you were told, were passed down by your ancestors and other mortals in general. You don't really just dance in fairy rings, that's a small fib we tell the children. As more human children found the rings, when we'd find them dancing. We'd send them off, warning them if they came in again that we would have them dancing until they faint. When our own children wandered into them curiously, we'd tell them the same thing until it became time for them to learn. It's just something stupid the ancestors came up with, I don't know... It does always start out with a courting dance though, but the main reason for them is, inside a fairy ring... you mate. They're essentially a part of an ancient mating ritual."
At that you nearly jumped up to smack him, but he was a step ahead of you. His arms tightened around your body, pinning your arms to your chest.
"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-"
"Please, calm down little dove. It's not possible for me to actually breed you. That requires an entirely different ritual, one that hasn't been performed in centuries. I'm not even sure anyone would know how to perform it these days..." He trails off.
"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech.
"They're not traps, and they're not meant for humans." He says defensively, and you can hear the pouting in his tone, "Think of it like this. You know how some penguins build big and pretty nests to attract a mate? It's kind of like that. It's a lot to explain in detail, and I had to create one. Now that I'm of age, it's expected of me to find a partner. Even if I don't find the need to."
"And why do they exist in this realm if they're not meant for us?"
"Well, a long time ago, back when there was only this realm, and there were more Fae than humans, they came across one. That fairy was so angry at the human for intruding on something so intimate of his, and he threatened the human with a punishment. Before any of the other Fae could stop him, he entered the ring. When they both were inside of it, they were overcome with the magic of the ring. The courting dance had started, and no one else was able to enter. The desire for each other grew. In his anger he must've forgotten what the ring's intention was, and was only focused on punishing the human. But he never got that far. They ended up... mating. They never separated from that night, spending their lives together. It was millenia ago. It created an uproar though. Our kinds had never joined before that way."
You sat and listened, calming down a bit as he told you this story.
"There were battles, not an outright war but there might as well have been. They grew to love each other, and they led the winnings of those battles to stay together. They opened the door for Fae and humans to be together, but it has always been frowned upon from both sides."
There was an entire history of this world that you had never known. One that you could never even imagine to be true. But it is. Before your mind let you delve into it though, you thought back to something he said.
"Overcome with magic? These rings hold compulsions over beings?" You questioned hastily, needing to confirm your suspicions.
"No. It's not like that..." He sighed, "Didn't you feel different last night?" He continues, "The mushrooms release something like a pheromone. An aphrodisiac, to enhance your sexual stamina. Among other mood boosting and energy boosting properties. It starts by uplifting your mood, making you feel the happiest you've ever been. Then you start dancing, your energy building up in preparation for what's to come. It's not until your partner enters that the aphrodisiacs start releasing. But it doesn't just take away your consent like that. Both parties have to be willing... it needs to be mutual. Though that's not to say that's not how every instance turns out. Evil exists in all realms."
You shivered at his words, trying to process everything. You could clearly remember the primal urges taking over, the need to constantly be filled. It explained that off feeling, why you were acting so out of character. But you couldn't deny that you had wanted it.
Craved it.
You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent.
He started talking again, "That's why I couldn't just leave you there. Especially not in that forest, where other creatures lurk and might find you. I never felt anything dark there, but that doesn't mean it won't come along. I brought you home. I cleaned you up, I made you drink because you were getting dehydrated. I cared for you."
He was loosening his grip around you to rub your shoulders. It made you think back to the skilled massages he gave you last night, in between all of the sex. He made sure to take care of you the whole night it seemed.
"But none of this answers my question from earlier, why not place the rings in your own realm now? Why would any of the Fae place them here?" You asked.
"There are many different reasons..." He mumbled, "Some of them do it because they want to experience sex with a willing human. Some of them do use them as traps for humans, and those Fae are disgraceful, downright evil. Most of those types have been banished from the realm I come from. But some are like me. We try to hide them, from everyone. Because even though we're required to have them, we don't want to use them."
Then you thought back to his previous words, "Wait... 'find your partner' you said? Are we- do we have some sort of bond now?"
The silence was thick in the air. You waited for him to speak, but he didn't, so you turned around in the tub to face him. Your legs spread out on top of his, as you half straddled his lap.
His eyes stared into yours, expressionless. It was much colder than his usual warm aura, so you grabbed his hand to hold it, and asked again in a softer tone, "Do we?"
"We don't have to. It's not permanent. Most Fae who get humans within their rings leave them there once they've passed out anyways. Humans don't have the same stamina as we do, even with their boosted energy from the ring. The first woman passed out, that's where the ancestors got their silly tale from." He spoke tightly, like he was debating even revealing this bond at all.
"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all.
Not much made sense. In a span of hours you found out the true existence of a hidden realm, and these magickal creatures. You met one, you slept with him, then you actually slept with him, and now you bathe with him. You talk with him, as if all of this is a normal day.
It should all unsettle you more than it actually does. You should be freaking out, 100% meltdown level. This is the story of fairy tales, and maybe not a good one. This could be the big bad wolf and you could be little red riding hood. But somehow, you were comfortable in his presence. Comfortable enough to want to spend more time with him. To learn more, about him, his world, and this new bond.
So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck.
"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is."
His eyes lit up with hope, and his charming smile returned to his face. The thought that you could wake up every day to that smile entered your head quicker than you could blink.
You'd figure something out. You had to. He couldn't leave your life now. Not when it seemed like it was just getting started thanks to him.
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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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