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#lion tattoo ideas
silva9977 · 8 months
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Lion protects buffalo
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tattooideas123 · 8 months
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Mother’s Love by Miguel Ameliach, owner & artist at Atlas Tattoo Studio in Luxembourg. https://tattoo-ideas.com/mothers-love
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the-power-of-stuff · 1 year
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So a while ago some of my favorite people were making art for an ATLA/LOK-themed swimsuit calendar (which is still in the works) and I decided I wanted to join in the fun. But turns out I don’t know anything about canvas size or image resolution so I can’t actually use my drawing in the calendar. 😅 Which really just means I get to share it early! So yay!
Here’s a little preview. Full image under the cut cuz it’s a little suggestive (shows as much skin as you would expect on a speedo-clad swimsuit model 😏).
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Yes I did the background like a Sokka painting, at the urging of my fellow degenerates. And the baby moose lion print on his speedo was inspired by @boomerangguy’s fic Date Night 😜
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art-echo · 8 months
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tattoos247 · 8 months
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Mother’s Love by Miguel Ameliach, owner & artist at Atlas Tattoo Studio in Luxembourg. https://tattoo-ideas.com/mothers-love/
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trendlory · 1 year
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With Pain Comes Strength 🖤
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https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/39770191-with-pain-comes-strength
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tattoos4mnd · 5 months
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Black Lion idea
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onishibai · 5 months
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A tattoo idea i designed a while ago for myself, of course needs more work honestly but its an idea that has plagued me for a long time. The lion who eats the sun but in mesoamerican artstyle
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lemarchandesable · 8 months
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Otarie encrage et aquarelle en négatif
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tattoomyidea · 11 months
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Lion Head Semi-Permanent Temporary Tattoo
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stevebabey · 3 months
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have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3
Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.
In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.
Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.
She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.
And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.
So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?
The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.
So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.
Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.
Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.
7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.
This was his Friday night plans.
His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—
“Hi.”
Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.
Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.
Holy shit, this dude was hot.
He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.
He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.
“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.
God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?
The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.
Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?
“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.
He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.
The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.
“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.
“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”
“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.
Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”
Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.
“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”
He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—
“Can I get you two started with anything?”
The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.
“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.
“What? Not a milkshake man?”
Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”
Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”
Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.
“Did you just order for me?”
“Did you just diss milkshakes?”
Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.
“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.
“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”
Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.
“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”
Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.
“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”
Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?
Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.
“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.
The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.
Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.
Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”
Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.
The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.
Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.
"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"
His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.
"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."
Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.
"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."
Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.
Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.
"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."
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requinoesis · 7 months
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The retro shark gang!✨
Finished artwork of this adorable trio who appeared to me at a time when I needed peace! In the future I will make more of their world.
I was exploring ideas of shark characters for my secret stories. This time I had the inspiration to make an teen indie band from to enrich a retro worldbuilding of sharks that I created!🦈🎶
🎤- Aria Marinsoul is a Zebra Shark, she would be the lead singer. 🎹- Tyson Stripes is a Tiger Shark, he plays a synthesizer. 🎸- Rocky Malletfin is a Great Hammerhead Shark, he plays a bass guitar.
I feel that sometimes these characters “manifest” to cherish me in times of turbulence. I like it a lot, it brings me a lot of peace. And their characteristics are a very deep reflection of my subconscious, such as:
🌙 - Rocky is mysterious, he likes esoteric things and attracted to the occult, he seems like a bad guy but he has a good heart because despite his big body he has a soft and melodic voice. He has several lunar symbols on him like a moon phases symbol on his shirt, tattoo of crashing waves, stars and a misty moon. If I were to give him a sign, it would be a mix of Scorpio and Pisces. The name 'Rocky' is a nickname given by Tyson, he is actually called Robert!
☀️ - Tyson is quite fearless and courageous but under an aura of sensitivity and calm, attracted by geek things and video games. Sometimes he is very distracted and intense. The symbol on his blouse is a mixture of the zoadical signs of Aquarius and Cancer, which would be the sign mixture that would give him. Rocky sometimes nicknames him Tiger!
⭐- Aria is introverted and quiet, but she is optimistic, inspiring and full of passions, sometimes she creates a lot of expectations and is very frustrated when not achieved. She is a guiding star symbol who inspires her two colleagues to persevere in their dreams. I imagine her being a cross between a lion and cancer signs.
There are more secrets I thought about them, but I will share at another time.
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🇧🇷Para nós brasileiros, eles tem nomes diferentes!
⭐O Grande tubarão martelo se chama Roberto Marreto! ⭐O Tubarão Tigre se chama Tiago Tigrado! ⭐Enquanto a pequena tubarão zebra, chama-se Arielle Almarina!
A cidade em que vivem fica em algum lugar onde milhões de anos atrás existia o litoral brasileiro, provavelmente a Bahia.
Ainda não pensei em um nome nem em inglês e nem brasileirado para a banda deles. Apenas cheguei a pensar que o primeiro álbum musical deles chamaria-se "Verão em Tons Pásteis"🏝️🎶
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artostattoo · 1 year
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Lion King Tattoo Ideas
New Lion King Tattoo Ideas. These tattoos often represent the lion’s strength, power, and courage, making them popular choices. Take a look below to check them out all:.
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Lion King tattoo by Joshua Nordstrom at Deft Tattoo Studio in Kingsford from www.pinterest.com.mx
Take a look below to check them out all:. To help you with your research for your next tattoo design, we went on a hunt through instagram to find the best lion tattoo ideas. See more ideas about tattoos, lion king, disney tattoos.
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Source: www.disfordisney.com
To help you with your research for your next tattoo design, we went on a hunt through instagram to find the best lion tattoo ideas. These tattoos often represent the lion’s strength, power, and courage, making them popular choices.
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Source: www.pinterest.com
To help you with your research for your next tattoo design, we went on a hunt through instagram to find the best lion tattoo ideas. Some popular lion king tattoo designs include simba, mufasa, timon, and pumbaa images.
Some Popular Lion King Tattoo Designs Include Simba, Mufasa, Timon, And Pumbaa Images.
To help you with your research for your next tattoo design, we went on a hunt through instagram to find the best lion tattoo ideas. Take a look below to check them out all:. See more ideas about tattoos, lion king, disney tattoos.
These Tattoos Often Represent The Lion’s Strength, Power, And Courage, Making Them Popular Choices.
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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not sure if you’d like this idea but i keep seeing this trend of coloring in your partners tattoos and imagine a blurb where reader is doing this with alexia or mapi <33
feels so weird to write mapi or ingrid without the other tbh colouring book II m.león 
"hola amor!" you called out as you returned home from work, utterly exhausted as you swung the door closed behind you, frowning as your girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.
"maría?" you sung out, dropping your bag on the counter and wandering around the flat, popping your head in and out of each room. finally, as you entered your bedroom you breathed a sigh of relief.
your girlfriends back was faced toward you sat outside in the late afternoon sun on the balcony of your bedroom, clearly focused on something as you made your way over.
opening the doors you quickly realised why she hadn't heard you, between the gentle buzz of her tattoo gun and the music playing from her phone you clearly caught the older girl off guard as she looked up in surprise.
"more?" you shook your head with a smile, the girl tattooing what looked like a sword on her ankle. "i told you bebita, they are addictive!" the spaniard grinned, flicking off the gun and wiping down the fresh ink with a sanitary pad.
"like it? my lines are getting very good." mapi beamed flashing her new tattoo toward you as you hummed taking a seat, kicking your feet up and sighing contentedly.
"you know...i can still give you one." you felt her hand on your leg as you cracked one eye open and smiled in amusement. "and you know, when hell freezes over." you teased as she pinched your leg lightly with a hum.
packing away the gun and wrapping up her tattoo carefully the girl pulled off her gloves and dissapeared inside for a moment to put everything away. "how was work?" mapi returned, bending down to place a chaste kiss on your lips.
"good, tiring, long, very glad its the weekend." you grinned up at her, accepting her outstretched hand as she guided you up and out of your seat. "come hermosa, rest with me." your girlfriend pulled you down onto the bed with her, pulling your back into her front as she held you tightly.
the two of you spoke about your days, wrapped up together in the warm rays of the dying soon, golden hour both your favourite times of day.
your girlfriend settling a little more, the sweet words whispered in your ear and the gentle kisses placed to the back of your shoulder blades did very little to lull you to sleep, though that seemed no issue for the tattooed footballer behind you.
glancing over your shoulder you smiled seeing she was asleep, chest rising and falling as you carefully wiggled out of her hold and placed a kiss to her forehead. your combined body heats a little much you shuffled to lay beside her, mapi stirring and rolling onto her stomach but otherwise remaining out cold.
cheekily answering a few work emails you found yourself doom scrolling social medias, one video in particular peaking your interest. pocketing your phone you quietly made your way out of the bedroom, hunting around the house for what you were after.
returning to the bedroom your girlfriend grunted tiredly as you sat on the back of her legs. "qué?" the defender mumbled. "can i color in your tattos mi amor?" you asked, bending down so your head laid next to hers.
"why?" her body vibrated with a small chuckle as she blinked sleepily. "why not?" you questioned back as the older girl hummed, nodding and shutting her eyes again as you kissed her cheek.
her body tensed a little as you pushed her shirt up, finger tracing the multitude of designs inked along the soft tanned skin. assisted by the pencil case you kept handy for when your niece visited you grabbed out a handful of markers and shifted a little so you were comfortable.
your girlfriend relaxed and drifted back to sleep, finding the gentle scratchings of the markers against her back oddly soothing as you frowned in concentration. finishing the lion in the middle of her back you moved onto the smaller more intricate designs on her shoulder blades, taking your time to ensure you kept it neat.
you felt a little childish at how much you were enjoying this, admittedly only coloring when your niece was over and that was only ever to placate her after a tantrum. but you couldn't deny that this was helping the melt away the stress which lingered within your body from a long week of meetings and deadlines and overdue reports.
unknown to you your girlfriend was now awake, laying down quietly and making sure not to move too much, glancing up with a soft smile seeing the way your tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth in concentration.
"bon dia hermosa." you caught her eye giving her a smile of your own, capping your marker and tucking it back away. "i think it is a little late for a bon dia princesa." the defender grinned, grabbing your hands and gently tugging you back down onto the bed beside her.
"did you have a nice time coloring?" she mocked playfully, kissing your nose as you rolled your eyes. "you're like a human coloring book amor, can you blame me?" you leaned in to give her a proper kiss, a lazy makeout session quick to follow.
you sighed happily at the way her hands rested on the small of your back pulling your body closer into hers, angling your head a little more to the side as your tongues clashed and you tangled your hands in her hair.
your eyes fluttered closed as her lips detached from yours and found their home on your neck, the defender moving to grab your hips as she sucked a bright red mark just below your jaw. pulling away she peppered gentle kisses across it to soothe the sting and her teeth tugged playfully at your ear lobe.
"you know mi amor if you let me give you a tattoo you could become your own colouring book."
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blueparadis · 6 months
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╰┈➤ MOVEMENT ✦ SATORU GOJO.
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⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ Satoru Gojo decides to make the last session of this contractual relationship memorable for you, by doing what he does best, that is, bending the limits and breaking the rules and in that process, he hurts more than one heart.
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⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ non-sorcerer au + bdsm au, bdsm terminology, contractual sex, explicit sexual scenes, mutual pinning, hurt and angst with slight comfort, bondage ( shibari ), Gojo is domme here, sub!reader, mention of safeword and sex toys, slight age gap, gojo is in his pushing thirties reader is twenty-five, tattoo artist!reader, aftercare, angst and fluff; 5,6k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. + cross posted to ao3. |
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Perfection is a stage that every creature strives to achieve. A witch tries to devise an evergreen spell for immortality, a lion tries to hunt for an elephant, a bird tries to fly during rainstorms, and an alchemist tries to create a philosopher’s stone— there is no end to it. It is always the most impossible, the oddest feat to achieve. 
So, Satoru Gojo believes that perfection is nothing but a state of mind; to think about achieving something impossible, but that is not where it ends. 
Achieving the impossible is not the end of the road toward perfection, there is always a price that one has to pay. In most cases, it is either the slow painful death or death at an unexpected moment of life, if not death then the skill of achieving perfection is stripped off and now, the creature stands amongst others in shame and sadness, for instance, a witch might lose all her powers after receiving immortality left with eternal desolation and abandonment at the end, a lion might die while hunting for an elephant despite being at the top of the food chain, a bird might lose its feathers and an alchemist might lose their sanity in the pursuit of perfection. Despite such irrevocable loss at the end of such a bumpy and rocky road, people still pursue perfection. They are all chasing nothing but a mirage, how silly!
Satoru Gojo does not understand the idea of a perpetual flow of zeal to achieve such greatness. He never tries to do the impossible, he just does what he is capable of and that alone earns him every bow of a person that he has ever come across, and applause from people with puny ambitions. They think Satoru Gojo is perfect. The cacophony of such praises makes his head ache because, in the end, they are all for nothing but hollow, laced with some ultimate gain underneath. But at the same time, he can not deny the idea of the existence of such perfection either. If he were to deny this slightest possibility of such perfection, he would deny someone’s existence.
Satoru is lying on the bed with half of his body hanging outside the bed. His feet are on the ground while his cyan galactic eyes just stare at the starlight ceiling of this room. He is more than capable than most other men to make someone see stars yet you specifically moved into his house only on one condition, that is, to have a starlight ceiling. What a stinging mockery! His teeth find refuge in the inner flesh at one corner of his lower lip as a vision flashes in his mind. You, laying on your back on this same bed but hands tied together with just his tie and resting at the belly button while his deft fingers push a vibrator inside you. Fully dressed in a pearly white sundress, under the blue lighting, you look nothing less than some fairy god. If such a being were to exist he would say you looked perfect that night.
His phone chimes. Twice. Two different notifications. He jumps out of bed at the second walking towards the side table to check his phone. He is not supposed to be here, according to the rules of his contract with you, in your room. But Gojo has always been the breaker of rules; not all but the rules of which one is the most unaware. For instance, you would not even know that he has been in your room while you are not here, while you are busy with your day. But he is here for a reason not because he wanted to break some grey rules. He unplugs his phone from your charger.
‘One week before the contract terminates’
Satoru turns off the lights and saunters out of your room. One week. Seven days. One sixty-eight hours out of which he can only see you during nights, and play with you only at weekends. This arrangement has been going on for almost two months now; this is the last week he gets to spend with you and the last weekend for his play with you; after that, he will ask you to meet at some cafe to discuss the extension of this contract. Everything is going to be perfect. He does not want to admit how perfect you are in every way simply because he might end up doing something detrimental to this contractual relationship. It shocks him, sometimes terrifies him how you are exactly the person he concocted at one corner of his heart. That is what he liked most about you: you were fearlessly flexible.
Satoru’s jaw dropped when you said you were okay with him if he kept another sub or even a lover. At first, he thought you were bluffing but with a man like him tricks never run out of stock and not once he sensed jealousy in you. Talking with you was liberating be it on the phone or in person. You never invaded his space, his life yet asked the questions that you needed to know as his sub. Sometimes he would think about what it would take to make you feel uneasy, feel vulnerable, feel that everything was crashing down like a centuries-old castle as you desperately needed something to hold on to, someone to cling onto. It is too soon to let a sub like you go. So, he definitely wants to extend his contract with you: no second thoughts about that. Everything was perfect before, being with you, spending time with you, sending you surprise gifts, hearing your squeals of happiness— everything was perfect, what could possibly go wrong? And even if it does, he can handle it. There is nothing that is beyond the grasp of one of the richest bachelors of Tokyo.
It is half past eight and you will be here around ten o’clock. But before that, he needs to check his playroom, set everything right, and prepare dinner. Satoru makes himself busy in the kitchen. He revisits his memories of you, searching for what you like to eat and what you do not. For the past two months at weekends either you cooked along with him or ordered via takeout or had a chance for takeaway. So, he never got a chance to show how good he was with his hands in the kitchen. A low humming escapes his mouth as he starts to gather the ingredients; at first, he needs short-grain rice, vinegar, salt, sugar, and water. He sets the rice for it to cook and meanwhile, prepares the other set of ingredients for the filling. The clock strikes nine, the doorbell chimes and Satoru’s eyebrows grow closer. He walks towards the main door to check the screen and the line of confusion on his forehead vanishes. Both of your hands are full of bags and other accessories. He wonders how you even ring the doorbell before opening the door.
“You are early,” Satoru remarks as he holds the door letting you walk inside his house. You look around and steadily walk towards the kitchen. Satoru follows you a little bit offended from not getting any response from you. Keeping a packet on the counter you wash your hands. “What's this?” he asked standing near the counter.
“Food.” You supply making yourself comfortable on one corner of the counter. Satoru rolls his eyes. 
“You are early,” He repeats. This time more emphasis on ‘early’ to hear the explanation you are to give, that is, if there is one. He has this habit of repeating his sentences, sometimes a word to assert dominance but he never says sorry twice; at least never with you.
“Ummm, thanks to your friend who cancelled the tattoo appointment at the last minute” You open the lid of the pot and smell the aroma of fresh cooking. “Otherwise I would have been quite late.”
“What friend?”
“The one and only, who told you about my tattoo parlour, what was his name again? Geto. Getou-san.”
“You forget the name of a guy like that?” He hands you a glass of water. It is half-chilled. A peal of laughter echoes in the kitchen. 
Satoru’s jaw relaxes, half in confusion and half in worry. He does not know why. “What?” he asks. You compose yourself and answer him. “You keep scolding me about my bad habits yet never fail to keep up with those.” You take a few sips of water, finally locking eyes with him. His mouth is half-parted trying to form any sort of defense to deflect the grave accusation you just made, that is, he is paying attention to the tiniest details even though they are deadly to both of you. 
He has always told you how having cold water is bad for your health, especially when you just come home. He is not a great fan of having meals at any time of the day ordered online, nor your habit of smoking but if you were to lit a cigarette now he would slide an ashtray from somewhere. Satoru drinks the rest of the water from your glass and keeps it in the sink. People generally love this kind of attention but it becomes a little bit hopeful in cases like these and for you, it is just tightening the knots of rope that Satoru has weaved around you these past two months. You are not here to get his attention nor guide his deep-rooted attachment tendencies towards you; you are here because of the contract.
“I need to talk to you about something.” You say holding a cigarette in between your teeth and searching your pockets for the lighter.
“Can’t it wait?” Satoru gives you a lighter, plucking it from one of the pockets of his loose boxers holding the fire for you. His upper body is naked. Even if you have seen him naked enough times to get used to it still you find it distracting. You inhale one full elongated stream of tobacco saying, “Oh sure it can.” He slides an ashtray taking it out from one of the cupboards magically. You scratch your temple out of frustration because the thing is, Satoru Gojo does not smoke. He hates that burning bitter aroma of tobacco yet every room in this house has an ashtray and a lighter. 
“You know what? I’ll just say it right now. It has been bugging me since yesterday.” You start and Satoru effortlessly drags you closer to his body, spreading your legs apart to stand in between them. “What the hell?” You screamingly gasp at such a sudden vicinity.
“Can’t it wait?” This time softer, voice husky but a whisper, a prayer. His toned muscular arms are now wrapped around your waist. “If you are really not tired, shall we go to the playroom or — he trails his hands from the column of your throat to your belly button and then plays with the hem of your skirt. His eyes follow and then halt.
“Playroom.”  You earn an enquiring glance from him. He hums. You jump off the counter and tactfully slip from his arms walking towards the playroom. “Would you prefer me naked, clothed or— you turn to see if he is following you or not only to find he is standing there like a statue gawking at you and drinking you in. “Umm. . .Satoru,” you call and then a flash of teeth sparks from his mouth. He walks towards you, grabbing you by your upper arm he leans towards you having his head in the nook of your shoulder. His lips move. You can feel it. It opens with a pop. You think he is going to say something, maybe something lewd but instead, the soft skin of his lips touches the base of your earlobe.
“No. You look perfect in that dress.” A rasp, a horse whisper, like casting a spell he gently kisses your neck and withdraws. “I’ll be there in five minutes. You can go and wait for me.” You nod unable to look at him. Sometimes Satoru invades your bones and veins through the gaps that you did not even know existed in you. 
“Look at me,” He orders, voice nothing mellowed like before. He notices you swallow before you turn your face to look at him. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kiss you — on your lips —” he tugs at your hair curling one of the strands around his index finger “— you know that is totally off limits.”
Your pupils slide down onto his lips. “Of course not. I know you hate smokey kisses and breaths. Besides, I’m not very fond of breaking rules like you.” And you look up again at him to check his eyes. “Sir” you quip. Mmmmm. He definitely thought of kissing on the lips just now. 
You enter the playroom and as you turn on the lights you notice a vibrator, a blue rope kept on the bed, and a giant teddy bear with red ropes tangled all over its body. He has been practicing. You sit on the edge of the bed and wait. You wait since that is all you have to do now, no changing of clothes or stripping them off. You remember that before coming here you went in your room to keep your belongings and get a quick bathroom refresh but the fact that you found the charger head warm is bugging you more than it should. You would not have known if you did not have to put your phone on charge. Plus, you never keep the switch on when the charger is not in use.
The door opens with a ‘clank’ and you jolt as you turn.
“God. It's just me, Eve.” Right Eve. Eve and Adam. Adam and Eve. He never fails to remind you of the embarrassing story of how you two met every time he is in the playroom with you. You watch him keep a ball gag and a few free love balls. He is gathering toys, moving from one end to the other so fast that you have not had the proper chance to see him and why would you not? He is fully dressed. He looks inexplicably elegant when dressed this neatly. He drags the table towards the bed where you are seated at arm's length of his.
“Now,” He starts grabbing your hands and guiding you beneath a specific lighting. You look up to notice various extensions and slots for hanging bondage. “Today I will not be using a blindfold on you.”  He says and turns towards you. You tilt your head in shock and fear while his hands tie yours in the hanging bondage. In all previous plays, you kept your eyes closed with a blindfold. It is not against the rule of your contract to play without the blindfold but to think he would do it like this was beyond your calculations. You have added this rule, “Blindfold on” against his “No kiss on the lips.” rule but omitting such clause for the sake of play is not your hard limit, the emotional turmoil that comes after is enough to make you feel suffocated. 
“I want you to know everything I do to you today since this is our last session. I’ve tried on myself first but you must know that, by now I know how to just touch you, how tight to make your ropes, and how hard to make each hit.” He continues explaining. Your hands are now hanging tied by the wrist. He takes a step backward standing with his hands tucked over his waist. “And I’ll only do what you have agreed to.”
“Any questions?” You nod and exclaim with a firm tone, “No, Ser Adam.” He cocks a brow and turns around. You watch him put a black mask over his eyes. Grabbing the prussian blue rope he starts to tie it around your upper body. It does not take him long to have you under the tangled form of beautiful knots. Your breaths have already started to become heavy. He puts the ball gag around your mouth as he speaks about another crucial point. “For today's session, I want you to maintain eye contact. I know it might be difficult for you to keep up at first because in our previous sessions, you requested to keep the mask on your eyes but today we are doing something different,” He takes two free love balls from the table.
“The ball of your gag is edible. Since you can’t use your safe word in this session, not while having a gag on your mouth. Just bite it and I’ll immediately stop.” He walks towards you close enough to let his breath fan over you. You look up. Curiosity courses through your veins and you lick the ball. It tastes sweet. Of course. “ However, if you eat it just out of curiosity, then I’ll have to punish you. And we both know you are not very fond of those,” 
You can't help but smile at how he can read your thoughts. “I was late to the playroom because I went to change the ball to an edible one.”  Now he is giving you an explanation of something that you did not need to know. Seeing your eyebrows pinch, Satoru asks, “So, shall we start?”
You nod. He sits down and removes your underwear. Lacy and white in colour. His gaze finds you telling you to get out of your underwear. You have no idea how perfect your outfit is for today’s play. He had bought a set of crop tops and a skirt for this specific play that he had in mind but seeing you walking in a knee-length medium skirt and off-shoulder top made his heart flutter. The skirt is too long for his taste but it will do. Besides, he can take it off anytime he wants.He stands up and puts your panty in his pocket and your eyes dilate at his act. You have come across certain forms of the behavioural pattern of several dommes. But sometimes, Satoru fits in that and sometimes, he breaks it. As the contract is coming to an end, he is breaking more than fitting into them.
He encircles you one time running his hands over your clothed body making you twist and turn your head in shivers of pleasure. Standing behind you he holds your waist, quite firmly and places one of his shoe-covered feet aligned with yours. He slips his foot in between the gap of your feet and spreading them apart he cups your vagina. “Oh don’t be so wet already. I have not even started it.” He runs his fingers through your folds a few times before extending them in front of your face to show you how turned on you are. Then, he holds two metal small balls in between his fingers. It was like a magic trick when he flicked his hands and those turned up. So, that is why the outfit, the mask.
“The same rules apply as before. I’ll put them inside your pussy and if you manage to keep them while I play with you, I reward you. If you do not, I — he pauses rolling the metal ball from up your nape down to your spine and then over your ass — “I get to fuck you.” he says pushing a ball into your hole. “I’ve four of them.” he whispered those words into your ear creating shivers down your spine. He changed the last part. In earlier sessions, he always said that he would punish you. Now, if you can not manage to hold up without dropping any of them he will fuck you, but if you can he will reward you, he said. 
Satoru walks around you to face you. You look at him, at his eyes as he pushes the second ball into you. Taking out other love two balls out of his pocket, he sits down again and pushes them inside. He kisses your nipple while looking at you, retreats to gather saliva in his mouth, and then sucks off hard enough to leave a wet patch over your nipple. He repeats the same on the other nipple as you try to close your legs to keep those balls inside you.
“You are doing a great job. Impressive.” He praises as he ties another spreader bar to the ankle of your legs keeping them apart and making it hard for you to hold the balls inside you. “Oh do not look so displeased my Eve. . . The main trick is still up my sleeves.” He walks back toward the table and grabs the vibrator. Safeword was at the tip of your tongue and heart at the bottom of your throat. But you waited. The sound of vibration alone creates goosebumps on your skin but as he starts to touch it all over your body, you fail to keep up with your senses. Satoru watches your palms turn into fists, twist and curl as he places the vibrator over your belly and then onto your nipple again. He would love to see how you would keep up if he were to put the vibrator over your pussy. It would not hurt to try, would it now?
“Let me know if it's too much.” He whispers into your ear before dragging the vibrator over your spine and holding it onto your inner thighs. You whimper and squeal as your vision clouds. Squeezing your eyes shut, tears trickle down your cheeks. A smile spreads across Satoru’s face as you exceed his expectations. He increases the vibrating limit by one unit as he holds it over your wet pussy. Saliva has started to accumulate inside your mouth. It is so hard not to bite onto the ball and if you bite it too hard the shocks of pleasure will cease to flow. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples as he increases the vibrating limit again. Two more switches to go. 
You arch your head backward, body squirms as he detaches his mouth. You can feel the metal balls slipping. They might drop if Satoru decides to remove the vibrator. He watches your lips, your eyes, your body, and all movements of pleasure that he is causing you right now. Dragging the vibrator up your vagina to your belly button he starts to suck against the column of your neck.  His teeth sink into your skin at different spots giving birth to several bruises while he pushes the head of the vibrator inside your vagina. It is too much. You feel like you are going to explode or melt. Fuck, you do not even know which is it. The sound of the vibration fades, but the intensity does not rather it increases. Your eyes feel heavy, breaths irregular, and full of moans. You feel like you are going to faint but then you hear a voice, his voice. 
“Bite the fruit.” You turn your head to meet his gaze. Blue crystal clear eyes meet your cloudy ones. You drop your head finding that your ankles are free from the spreader bar. “Bite it.”  He demands as he pushes half of the vibrator inside you. All your senses are lithe, your teeth bite the ball into half and the other half is gobbled up by your dom. He pulls out the vibrator with a swing, throwing it on the ground making you cum. The balls fall one by one making noise as they hit the wooden floor but none of you seem to care as his lips wrap yours. His hands involuntarily find their way toward the hoops of the handcuffs so as to unbuckle them as his kiss intensifies. Tongue making its way, lips alternatively sucking and biting as he lets your arms fall. You curl them around his nape reciprocating his kiss with the same intensity. He takes you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso and that is when he realises what he has done.
“Y/N.” He pants vigorously, taking a seat on the bed with you on the lap. “I should not have done that.” He immediately starts to untie the knots of the shibari. You rest your head against his chest as he frees you from the knots. Satoru’s ears are warm, burning even. He kissed you. He fucking kissed you. The one rule that he should not have broken. You adjust your face at an angle to have your lips near his ears before you whisper, “Where is my reward?”
“What?”
“My reward?” you say backing up a bit to meet his gaze and laying your hand in front of him. “My reward.” He is so confused right now. Of course, he has every right to be. 
When Satoru puts two plus two, he protests, “You dropped the balls. Technically, I have the right to fuck you. Like now.” Sure the idea of him being inside you is tempting but not as much as him realising he broke one crucial rule.
“That was after you asked me to bite the fruit, the ball, and then took the other half in your mouth and then started kissing me— he put his hand over your mouth seeing you speak in one breath. 
“Okay. okay. I get it.” He notices your hands. They are bruised, and so is your neck. Shame kicks in his body. He pulls up your top a bit and sees the marks of the knot as well as the ropes. He thought it was too tight. “You need a nice bath.” He lets you stand on your feet. There is a theory going on in his head. If you choose to ignore the kiss, the violation of rules then you may have secretly violated some other rules and if you are bothered by it, you will retort the second time or maybe not. There is one way to find out. Satoru roughly holds your chin brushing his thumb over your lips. You close your eyes caving into his touch. The way you close your eyes, feel his touch, bloom like a lotus to absorb him like sunlight makes him wanna kiss you, absorb you whole, invade you so deeply, fill every corner with his scent that you find it hard to breathe. 
“Can I kiss you now?”
You open your eyes, bite his thumb, suck at it, and then pull out with a pop, “No” exhaling a heavy breath. You turn on your feet and start to walk towards the exit feeling your heart crack at such sincere fruitless attraction. But Gojo Satoru is not someone who will let anyone walk out on him, even if it is you, his eve. He quickly catches up to you and takes you onto his lap so as to carry you toward the bathroom.
“Oh, good god. What gives? I can walk by myself.” You retort yet your hand curls around his nape. Your nails scratch his undercut as he carries you to the bathroom with a stoic expression. As you two reach the bathroom, you notice everything is already prepared. “I’ll come back in a few minutes.”
You discard your clothes as his footsteps fade away. He is not acting strange per se ignoring his act of affection was not a good idea after all. He created his own set of rules and broke one of them. He has every right to be the expectation of the rule he creates. After all, a priest who preaches purity is never pure; a god who gets punished is no god, either an abandoned god or the devil; Things always take the form of a cycle like a snake eating its tail. You do not get what was the reason behind his unacceptance of such an act. So, what if he kissed you? So, what if he likes you? It is not the end of the world. You are not going to punish him. Moreover, it will eventually pass. You hear Satoru humming on the other side of the curtain. He turns on the jazz music making you highly regret what you are going to say. It was a bad idea not to let him know beforehand via a text and you are neck-deep in trouble. You have never violated his terms or his personal space and so you have no idea how he would react if you were to do something to threaten his ideals, play with them.
Little did you know that you already did the day he walked into your tattoo parlour. 
“I need to talk to you,” Your voice gets buried under the jazz music along with the low hum of Satoru. He was standing near the sink washing his face, and hands. There is a set of clothes on the rack, perhaps for him. You are neck-deep in the bathtub. He has prepared everything for you, just the way you like it. Everything is as usual like any other weekend except your dom is not sitting by the bathtub, sparing an ear to your moonshine talks like he does. He is definitely avoiding you. The partition of curtains that separates the bathing area from the rest of the giant bathroom only permits you to see a hazy figure of your dom. You sit upright to lean against the bathtub. Clearing your throat you suggest the same idea again, louder this time. “Satoru, I need to talk to you.” 
From the hazy figure, you could conjecture that he was brushing his teeth. You waited until his response came trying to muster up courage and gather your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m listening,” Satoru responds from the other side of the veil.
“Can’t you just come here and sit with me? Like you usually do. . .” Even with the jazz music and the sound of running tap water, you could hear the click of his tongue, perhaps out of annoyance or perhaps out of repentance. Both are dangerous. Satoru feeling either of them is dangerous because a man like him ends up in a spiral of anger when those primal emotions leave the body, and stain the heart.
“I’d love to do that,” Satoru starts, closing the tap water, and putting the brush and toothpaste in their respective place. “But it's quite late and I’m hungry, so how about we talk while we eat? Plus, tomorrow I have an early morning.”
“It’s Sunday tomorrow.” You get out of the bathtub and stand just behind the partition. Satoru runs his middle finger upon his forehead from one temple to the other biting his bottom lip. He can not face you, not like this. He has violated the terms. He has violated himself, violated you — he has violated so many things. “It is. I know,” he mutters, voice full of haste. You see him walking towards the exit and something tells you it is now or never. So, you are really not bothered about the kiss at all.
“Satoru, I’m leaving.” You gulp as you watch the tall man turn around. So, you try to clarify your thoughts more and give them a voice. “I’m leaving Tokyo in two days. I got the scholarship for my Phd so . . .” There was a pin-drop silence between you and him. The edge of the curtain is now wet and wrinkled from your grip. You have faced many tense situations before but this one hit all the open, raw, unprotected parts of you. There was a sudden draw of curtains and when you looked up Satoru was standing holding the metal bar of the curtains, hovering above you. The lipstick marks along with the hickeys on the column of his throat are still there. He did not wash them. His eyes were assessing you, checking if you were playing some sort of prank to see if he gets worried about you. You have done it before, why not now? Many who came before tried some nasty tricks, broke some important rules, or found a loophole in certain rules that in turn violated others or used a safeword as an offensive one rather than a defensive measure. So, Satoru Gojo is used to this tactic. 
Nah, you are not lying. You have never lied to him, always been so honest to him that it made him uneasy at times. “And here I was thinking, where is the catch? After all, all perfect things come to an end.” 
“Okay, do you want me to help with that? Like packing or  . . .” His voice trailed off, so did his eyes. You wrapped the curtain around yourself doing a spin and nodded. He bit his inner lip holding his smile. “Okay. I’ll prepare dinner. Get dressed and dry yourself properly otherwise, you’ll catch a cold. ” He exclaimed, rubbing his thumb over your cheeks, eyes lingering over your lips momentarily. He leaves the bathroom as you watch him go.
You have always been afraid of him. Maybe because he was older than you or maybe it was because of his political connections, historical background, and the power that he holds at his fingertips. For instance, if he wanted he could cancel the scholarship, but he would not go that far would he? You were aware that you should have informed him earlier, at least a week ago but back then the results were not out. . . who are you consoling? What has already been done can never be undone, what has already been said can never be taken back— like an arrow shot in the forest. It is lost forever.
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note: special thanks to my dearest cele aka Celestia ( @dearestgojo ) for constantly listening to my ideas, talking me through them, and beta-reading this when I finished it. I was so confused and worried about Satoru’s characterization here. She helped me a lot with that. I wouldn't have been able to write this fic without her help actually.
Whether this will turn into a series or stay like this alone depends on ya’ll. If I get a positive response I’ll consider posting the other parts after writing it. I don't have a very healthy experience of posting series works in Tumblr. Most of them are posted on my ao3. So, let's see what I have in the store.
also tagging @orchid3a @akiniku @semisgroupie @gojoest @lalunanymph
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