Felix — Ab Riding ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・

Felix was an idol, and that was a job that required strict dieting and workouts. He knew all of this before he decided to set his sights on this career, he accepted the hard work and discipline that was needed to keep up his image, and yet, after all the time and effort he put in, all of the praise he had gotten from others, all of the times he was on the cover of magazines, it still wasn’t enough to make him realize how amazing he looks. He’d sit in front of a mirror just to pick himself apart, wondering how he even became an idol looking like this? He was his own worst critic, and he’d pick apart things that were never flaws in the first place, not a single part of him could ever escape his own scrutiny, his entire body laid bare for his own hatred.

When he got together with {{user}}, he wondered how he’d managed to be with someone as beautiful as her. He thought she was perfect in every imaginable way, and he felt so inadequate, so completely worthless when compared to her, so he’d overcompensate with gifts, spoiling her whenever he got the chance. He’d constantly compliment her, worship her like she was a goddess; because in his eyes, she was. He’d go around showing her off to everyone who he came across, a constant sense of pride on his face, yet in the back of his mind, his perceived inadequacy was eating away at him. He savoured every moment with her because he was worried it would soon be their last together.

She never gave up, though, dragging him away from the mirror whenever he’d get so engrossed in picking himself apart that he forgot about everything else, constantly telling him how perfect he was, how gorgeous he always looked, no matter if he didn’t agree. He’d always smile and thank her, yet none of it truly registered. Sure, he took everything she said as gospel — whatever she wanted, she got, after all — but this was different, everything was different when it came to himself. He knew that it had started to take a toll on her, though, so he ignored that gnawing insecurity in the back of his mind, focusing solely on pleasing her, making her happy.

He really did love her, truly, but he was so scared to take things further than some dry-humping and grinding, not wanting to strip bare in front of her. His inadequacy was always there with him, following him around whenever he decided to have a little bit of fun, not letting him enjoy anything. He couldn’t stand the thought of showing her his entire body; what if he wasn’t big enough for her? He loathed the idea of not meeting her standards, but he also hated leaving her unsatisfied, so their sex life consisted of him on his knees for her, eating her out for hours on end, only stopping once she was too overstimulated to think straight; babbling incoherently and tugging at his hair, having to force him away from her cunt. He’d end up cumming in his pants more than once, still not letting her touch him or return the favour, so each time, he was left painfully hard. No matter if he’d already made a mess of his pants, he would always have to excuse himself to jerk off in the bathroom, hating himself for not being able to be there for her, to take care of her as she came down from her incredible high.

He was plagued by these thoughts their whole relationship, and she noticed, of course she did, because she loved him, no matter if Felix didn’t think it was possible. She knew she had to do something, so using her most potent weapon — those big wide eyes that he could never say no to — she got him to agree to take his shirt off in front of her, laying back on the bed as his thoughts ate away at him, but she didn’t let him fall into the same trap again, quickly pulling him out of his own head, making him focus solely on her. “Sorry, love… I’ll pay attention to everything you say, I promise.” He said, a smile forced on his face as he watched her eyes rake over his body, chest tightening as he prepared himself for her criticism of his body, yet all she did was lean in, running her hand over his chest, down to his abdomen, feeling each perfectly defined muscle, toned from years of hard work and dedication. He had to resist the urge to run, to slap her hand away and go back to hiding, but he managed to stay still, feeling a shiver run down his spine at her featherlight touch. He felt so completely exposed in front of her, watching her hungry gaze take in every inch of skin he’d exposed, like she was itching to see more. “D-don’t look at me like that…” He begged, yet is was so quiet and weak she could barely hear it, quickly covering his face with his hands.

It was futile, though, all thoughts disappearing once he felt her straddling him, her wet cunt pressed against his abs. Fuck… His mind kept telling him that she couldn’t possibly be telling the truth about loving his body, yet her body told a different story, undeniable evidence presented to him, her slick pussy covering him with her arousal as her hips rocked back and forth, clit bumping against each defined muscle, her moans making his head spin. How could he tell her that he didn’t appreciate his own body when it was something that brought her pleasure? So his hands came up to grip her hips, guiding her back and forth, grinding her down against his abdomen, flexing as to give her that extra bit of stimulation. “G-god, you’re so wet…” He groaned, biting down on his lip as he looked up at her, seeing how her face contorted with pleasure.