#best way to fast to lose weight quickly

[styaweightloss-blog]

What to Consider Before You Start Fasting for Weight Loss

Before deciding to embark on a fasting regimen for weight loss, it's important to consider several factors to ensure a successful and safe journey.

First, it's essential to check with a physician before starting a fasting protocol. This can help to ensure that fasting is a healthy option for you and to assess any possible health risks associated with it.

It's also important to make sure that you have the right mindset and motivation when beginning a fasting journey. Set realistic and attainable goals, so that it is easier to stay motivated during times of hardship or when results are not seen right away.

In addition, make sure to get enough rest, drink lots of water, and include a moderate exercise routine when fasting for weight loss. Exercise and sleep can help to speed up weight loss, and staying hydrated can help with headaches and feelings of lethargy which are common side effects of fasting.

Finally, it is important to pay attention to your body's signs when fasting and stop when necessary. Not every form of fasting is suitable for everyone, so if your body does not respond well, don't hesitate to stop and try a different method.

By following these guidelines and considering these factors, it is possible to fast for weight loss successfully and safely. What to Consider Before You Start Fasting for Weight Loss

[oumermuktar]

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[homemaderemedies]

Sustainable Weight Loss: Mind, Body, and Home Remedies

In this blog, we will explore the multifaceted aspects of losing weight and provide you with a simple, effective home remedy to complement your efforts.

In a world that often emphasizes quick fixes and instant results, the journey to weight loss can be overwhelming and confusing. However, true and sustainable weight loss is not just about shedding pounds; it’s a holistic approach that encompasses physical health, mental well-being, and lifestyle changes. In this blog, we will explore the multifaceted aspects of losing weight and provide you with…

[miyukisu]

Breakfast in Bed .ᐟ

❤︎ | Trouble in paradise? Well, Sae has an early morning treat for you to fix that (2.5k wc) ╰ feat. itoshi sae (bllk) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 8 | kinktober masterlist

tags - somnophilia, rare sweet sae, sweet and sensual smex, p in v, unprotected smex, p*rn with plot, pussay eating, pronebone, profanity

minors do not interact

"Don't bother coming home. Jerk."

Sae wasn't one to reread texts, but he was beyond restless with the way you two left things an hour ago. It wasn't his fault that he was being kept at work for longer than he would like. He knew you wouldn't believe him when he said that he was trying his best to get home to you.

He wanted to prove a point; he really did. That's why he found himself booking a flight last minute on a trip that takes place at ungodly hours of the night.

That meant his usual ride wouldn't be there to pick him up at the airport and drive him straight to your shared condo unit. The Sae Itoshi had to flag down a taxi and make his way home like an ordinary person.

Sae leaned back on to the worn out faux leather seat of the taxi. His brows were scrunched, already feeling the impending headache caused by the unplanned trip home.

But again, he had to prove a point.

A deep sigh fell from his chapped lips as he opened the door to your place. He quickly checked his watch which read 4:48 AM. He should've been asleep hours ago, but he was generous enough to lose sleep just so he could come home to you as soon as possible.

He pushed his luggage haphazardly to the side before slipping off his shoes. His jacket was next to come off and he simply threw it on the couch.

Sae had to rub the sleep from his face. He'd been yawning multiple times throughout his trip home and he let out one big yawn before opening the door to the bedroom.

As expected, you were fast asleep. You couldn't be bothered to stay on your side of the bed, seeing as how you took up the center all sprawled out and lying on your stomach. Sae watched your sleeping figure for a moment before gently closing the door behind him. He quietly made his way over to the foot of the bed, still observing you.

"Well, here I am. Brat," he muttered to himself. As much as he wanted to tell you that—it was better if he let you sleep. Not that he thought you looked adorable that way, but he wasn't about to wake you up to say something so... asshole-y.

Although, his mind wandered. He was unsure if it was because he always thought this way or because his mind was exhausted from all the traveling he did—but God, did you look ethereal in that silk night dress.

His eyes traced every curve hugged by the fabric. The tiny dress bunched up a bit by your waist, showing off the sorry excuse for panties that you wore to sleep.

He calls them that because it barely covered anything.

Finally, he understood why you were so frantic about him coming home as soon as he could. You missed him and he missed you. Though, "missed" felt like an understatement.

Sae needed you and it took him an awful ride back home to realize just that.

────────────

He had to be careful. Slowly, he let his knee dig into the mattress, the cushions dipping due to his weight. Sae plants both hands on either side of you as he attempts to hover above you. It was like a hungry lion about to pounce on its unsuspecting prey.

He let his eyes roam your body, noting how he'll touch you without waking you up. Up close, he can see how your body rises up and down as you breathe. You looked so peaceful—a stark contrast of what you probably looked like earlier when quarreling with him over text.

A soft sigh escapes his lips. Sae was incredibly tired; he wanted nothing more than to plop down right beside you and snooze until morning. But, then again, he also had this urge.

A burgeoning urge to feel you—to touch you.

He took a single finger and traced the column of your back. Sae watched intently as your face scrunched up, annoyed by the unexpected stimulus.

But, much to his pleasure, that one touch made you shift from lying on your stomach and on to your back. He had to move away a bit to make sure you didn't hit him as you moved.

You were now facing him—mouth slightly agape—telling Sae that you were having a good night's rest. Hi gaze lingered on your face for a moment before it trailed down to where your clothes had bunched up even further.

That only made it harder for him to go to sleep.

Sae could be cheeky sometimes. He pulled the thin strap of your panties with two fingers before letting it go and hearing the 'snap' it made against your skin.

You softly grunted, annoyed that whatever it was that was bothering you hasn't gone away yet.

Truthfully, he found it quite amusing. His mind raced about what he was to do moving forward. But the longer he admired your body, the more sure he became of his choice.

Carefully, he pushed the fabric of your dress a little higher—just enough to show your belly button. He hooked his finger on the strap of your panties before pulling it down, slowly and steadily so as to not wake you up.

Once the flimsy fabric was out of sight, he stared at your lower half again—debating whether or not to continue. But he was already there, wasn't he?

As gently as he could, Sae pushed your leg away, opening you up for him. He had seen you countless of times before, but the sight of your glistening folds always seem to knock the air out of his lungs each time. You were a sight for sore eyes.

Cautiously, he traced your pussy with the pad of his thumb. That alone had him sucking through his teeth. He pressed your clit firmly causing you to squirm, but not enough to snap you out of your slumber.

"Fuck," he whispered into the chilly air of your shared bedroom. He liked foreplay as much as the next guy, but he was sure his dick was going to burst with how hard it was. He needed you now.

But he remembered how irritated you were earlier over the phone... perhaps, he could still be nice enough and prepare you even if just by a bit.

He dug in like a starved animal, lapping at your folds with a newfound enthusiasm you had never seen from him before when he ate you out. He was sure you'd laugh at him if you saw how famished he was for you. The stoic Sae Itoshi would never look so desperate like this.

But you were none the wiser about it, so he didn't care.

He suckled your clit relentlessly and you tried snapping your thighs close, but he made sure you kept them nicely opened up for him. Sae was growing impatient by the second, tongue darting in your hole at a quick pace.

You were already a mess for him. Surely, you should be ready for him at this point.

Sae gave your weeping pussy one last lick before hovering above you again. He could barely make out the expression you were making, but you were probably having the wildest dream right now. He softly patted your head—as if to soothe you—and ran his fingers through your hair.

In a rare show of gentle affection, the man leaned down and gave you a quick peck on your forehead. Somehow, that tiny action eased your expression—as though you knew who it was that gave you such a kiss.

With one hand supporting his weight, Sae used the other to free his aching cock from his sweats. He hissed upon feeling the air wrap around his sensitive skin.

He needed something warm, he thought. It just so happens that the perfect little pussy was right in front of him, waiting to be devoured.

Sae stroked himself a few times, easing himself up first before you'd suck him in without mercy.

He felt like a teenager all over again—biting his lip at such a mundane moment. Mundane—considering the other things you two have done in the past.

Soon as he lined up the tip against your entrance, he didn't wait another second. A guttural groan left him once his tip penetrated you. One swift push and he was halfway in.

It had him throwing his head back. This was new—this was definitely new.

"Sae?"

The faint sound of you calling out his name snapped him out of the immense pleasure he was feeling. Part of him felt a tad bit embarrassed that you caught him at his most vulnerable.

"Happy now? I'm home," he whispers. Although, he gives you no chance to respond—stuffing the rest of his length into you.

It felt like the stars aligned for him. The sun rose high enough at this hour that the light poured into the room. He could see more clearly the way your face contorted in bliss.

He pulled out again, only to sheath himself back to the hilt. He was used to fucking you stupid—purging the brattiness that he had to deal with on the daily. But, for some odd reason, he wanted to go slow today.

Sae leaned down again to give you another kiss on the forehead. He didn't feel all too embarrassed now. Besides, you were half-awake anyway.

"Slept well? You better 'cuz I may have missed you."

His words caused you to choke out a moan. "That's rich."

Usually, with a response like that, he'd start snapping his hips faster. But he controlled himself. You were always cranky in the morning after all.

"I know you missed me. Look at how well you take me." His eyes dart down to where you two were connected. A white ring had formed at the base of his cock and there was already a faint squelching sound every time he bucked his hips into you.

You clicked your tongue, annoyed that there was no way of denying the truth. It was hard to lie with his face close to yours and with his dick dragging along your walls so sweetly.

"You can lie all you want, but your pussy always tells me the truth," he whispers in your ear. Again, he cut you off—biting your earlobe gently.

The unusually slow and sensual pace threw you off, but you weren't complaining. He still hit that spot perfectly like he always did. And you kind of liked this—how he'd whisper sweet things to you, kiss your neck so desperately, and make love to you so tenderly.

Slow as he was, it still brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was quick to catch on it as you wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you.

The rapid breathing that filled his ears made him impossibly harder. Neither did it help that you kept getting tighter and tighter around him. He wanted to last longer, but the quivering of your pussy caused by your first orgasm pushed him to climax with you. Sticky seed painted your walls.

It was romantic—kind of. He was only realizing that now.

After his climax died down slightly, it was then he felt the sting of your nails scratching his back earlier. Though it didn't bother him at all.

If anything—it only heightened the sensations he was feeling.

"Fuck... I didn't mean to—"

You coo at him. "It's okay. Don't be embarrassed."

Just like he did earlier, you patted his head—hair rather damp from the sweat that built up due to your activities.

But you were too quick to comfort him because he was still painfully hard even after coming once.

"Ah... Guess I won't be going back to sleep soon huh?"

Sae sighs deeply. "I can deal with it myself. You can go back to sleep if you want."

You knew he had a habit of dealing things by himself even with things in the bedroom. It killed him inside to say that; he wanted to do so much more to your compliant body.

As he was about to pull out, you hastily wrapped your legs around his torso to stop him.

"Goddamn."

Sae couldn't help but bury his face into your neck. Thank fuck you were just as insatiable as he was.

"Sleep can wait," you whisper back.

"Turn around then."

'What?" you asked.

"On your tummy. I wanna do something," he explained.

Reluctantly, you unclasped your legs, letting him pull out. Sae helped you turn to lie flat on your belly. Now, you understood what he wanted to do.

Instead of slapping your ass like he would usually do, he caressed it—admiring his favorite body part of yours. With two large hands, he spread you out for him.

The new position made more blood rush into his dick. He had to fuck you one more time or else it would get too painful again.

He sheathed himself back in. His dick stretched you out deliciously and you tried stifling your moans, planting your face into the mattress.

Sae began fucking you with the same pace as earlier. Every drag along your walls elicited a moan from you that went wasted—being muffled by the thick covers.

He kept you all spread out for him. The grip on your ass was almost bruising even though he had promised to be gentle today. It was simply impossible to not get ahead of himself.

No words were exchanged as he pounded you from behind. The exhaustion you both felt and the need to moan your heart out took precedence.

A groan rumbled from his chest. He was close again. He was coming again way too fast for his liking. Sae was starting to think his dick was having problems, but maybe it was just your tight and warm cunt making him go haywire.

"Fuck... what did you do to me?" he wondered before a deep groan rumbled from his chest.

In response, you came abruptly—coating his length with your juices. You let out your most vulgar moan that morning. Your neighbors would have definitely heard if it weren't for the bed suppressing most of the volume.

You've had too many complaints in the past.

"Hahhh... waking up the neighbors? What a dirty fucking girl you are. Take it—take it all."

His hips began to go at a staccato pace, going out of beat once in a while in anticipation of his incoming high.

With one final thrust of his hips into you—he came so much like he hadn't just emptied himself in your cunt earlier. A warm sensation flooded your pussy again.

Sae swore that if he had time to rest after the match and before getting on that plane, he wouldn't be pathetically lying on top of you like this. He swore that he wouldn't collapse after coming a measly 2 times.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note The ending is so ass. I don't know how to end these things wtf

[mostly-imagines]

Scenes From an Afternoon Odyssey

jason todd x fem!reader

aka a day in the forest

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: reader wears a bra

middle picture art by spaceboykenny

You’ve nearly reached the peak of the slope, the uphill trek putting quite a toll on your legs. Jason insisted on holding your hand because his longer stride tends to put him several steps ahead of you. The sun beats down on your backs, the uptake in the heat of the day actually feeling quite nice compared to the chill that’s swept over Gotham recently.

Upon arriving at the flat plane, you take in a pretty array of sunflowers and a thoughtfully placed bench.

Jason halts his steps, looking back at you. “You need a break?” He asks, noting the way your breathing has become a bit labored.

You hum, taking a deep inhale. “Just for a second,” you say, plopping down on the bench.

He reaches behind him to fish the water bottle out of the pocket of his backpack. “Drink some water.” he says gruffly, holding the bottle out to you.

You don’t particularly feel like you need water again just yet, but you know better than to try and fight him on something related to taking care of yourself. It’s a losing battle and he’s proved it time and time again.

You take the drink from him, taking a couple sips. He eyes you with disapproval, bringing his hand up to tilt the bottom of the bottle up more. You down a few gulps, trying not to smile.

He takes the bottle back from you, taking a couple gulps of his own. Once the water returns to its pocket, he sits down next to you, hand massaging your thigh. In turn, your hand moves up to the nape of his neck, playing with the short hair there.

Despite your claim, you sit for longer than a second, listening to the birds chirping and the leaves rustling in the wind. It really is a beautiful day and Jason knew a great trail that’s hardly ever busy. It’s aways away from Gotham, but any excuse he can take to get the two of you out of the smog filled city, he’ll take.

Between the serenity of the scene in front of you and the warmth of his touch on your thigh, your breathing steadies pretty quickly.

You peer at the path ahead, taking note of how level and easy it looked. Your hand flattens on the base of his neck as you turn to him, “I could beat you in a race.” You say decidedly.

He huffs out a laugh, meeting your eyes with a glint of amusement shining in his own. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smile, nodding, “Been waiting for a chance to prove it.”

You stand up, turning around to take his hand and pull him up with you. He does most of the work for you, pulling his weight up himself.

“You wanna go?” He smiles, looking down at you.

“Do you wanna go?” Your smile grows impossibly, and Jason decides right then and there that he’d do absolutely anything to see you light up like that again.

You figure a sprint is your best chance, you’re not willing to bet that you can beat out a vigilante when it comes to endurance. Especially considering the uphill incline almost took you out.

You settle on a finish line about 30 feet away, and as you position yourselves to start, you feel your overconfidence begin to cave back in on you. His stature swamps you out, and it's becoming clear that you’ve got no real chance here. In any case, you’ve committed and this is happening.

“Ready…set…” both of you have the idea to start before you say go, taking off with haste.

You’re laughing as you run, which isn’t doing you any favors with keeping ahead of him, though you’re able to maintain a pretty neck and neck match.

Did he let you win? Yeah. He’s a gentleman, of course. He’s right on your tail though, and lifts you up from under your arms as you cross the finish line, nipping at your neck as you giggle.

He sets you back down gently, “Alright, fast girl. You need a drink?” He tucks some stray hair in your face back behind your ear.

“No, I’m...” You pause, scanning around. You point at a big tree along the side of the trail ahead. “You see that tree right there?”

He glances over, “Yeah?”

You take off sprinting for it without another word. And apparently cheating is a quick ticket to him dropping the act and beating you without an ounce of mercy.

You’re sitting on a relatively level branch in a tree next to Jason, one of your legs resting on top of one of his. You swing your free leg back and forth, biting into your sandwich.

There’s a couple juice boxes balancing in the small space between you, both half empty. He’d laughed at you when you picked them up from the store on the way there, but he drinks it all the same.

He holds your ziplock bag of chips out to you and you take a small handful, popping them into your mouth. When your hand moves to return to your side, he takes it in his own and presses your knuckles to his lips gently.

With a sly smile, you watch butterflies dance around each other and listen to birds singing their offbeat songs. And you think about Jason. You think about how he held you in his arms last night so you could fall asleep while he read. How on the way up here he’d held your hand as you balanced across the stones, forcing him to walk at a much slower pace than he’d probably prefer. You told him he could walk a little ahead, but he’d insisted on holding your hand so you didn’t “slip and bust your head open” in his words.

You wouldn’t know it, but he’s combing through his own set of memories of you too. It’s a bit silly to spend so much time dwelling on these warm memories about someone that’s only right next to you, but you’ve both found it’s hard to stop.

It used to scare Jason, how often you occupied his whole mind. He’d never felt such intense adoration and devotion before that he’d nearly mistaken it for fight or flight. It was foreign and strange, and it felt like danger. But it didn’t take long for the effects of his love to kick in like a drug, and now he can’t get enough of you.

But you don’t feel like a drug, you feel like a cure. You make him feel like himself again, like death never got a hold of him and like he’s an innocent soul anew. You treat him like it, at least.

Maybe it’s silly to fall into such a deep pit of thoughts about you when you’re right there, smiling so bright over at him and gleefully pointing out a couple of squirrels that are fighting over an acorn. But he’s happy to let you take up as much space in his head as you want.

You sit with your legs dangling off the pier, shoes cast aside so you can enjoy the cool water. Jason sits a few feet behind you, laying down against the wood of the dock, the sun beating down on his face.

The water is a beautiful blue marble reflection, and the sun radiates down on your skin, sending warmth throughout your body which combats the light breeze handily. You lean down and dip your hand into the water, letting it run between your fingers like thread.

“Can we swim?” you pipe up, looking over your shoulder at Jason.

He raises his eyebrows at you, “You didn’t know there was a lake up here.” He means he knows you don’t have a swimsuit under your clothes.

You shrug, “There’s no one up here.”

He scans around mildly, before looking at the water. “Yeah, okay.” He tugs his shirt off his back, coming to a stand.

You grin, pulling up the material of your own shirt from your waist. Once it’s swept over your head, Jason’s left in just his boxers and not a moment later you’re in a similar state.

He smiles at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and it takes you no time at all to realize where he’s going with this. He lifts you up off the ground and dives off the dock, submerging you both in the water.

You bob back up out of the water, not even trying to suppress the glee on your face. And somewhat to your surprise, neither does he.

You’d had dinner at the manor with his family last night and you were still a bit attuned to Jason’s closed off, stoic mood that he gets in around them. He feels something akin to insecurity when he openly emotes around them. Vulnerability, maybe. Either way, you know he hates the feeling and will avoid it at all costs so it’s nice when it’s just the two of you and he gets to act like himself.

Unlike Jason, you can’t quite touch the floor of the lake, so you tread with the water wavering at your neck. The water barely reaches the start of Jason’s shoulders as he stands before you.

He closes the small space between you before his arms make their way under your thighs, lifting you up out of the water slightly. He looks up at you with a lazy smile as you wrap your legs around his body. Your cheeks warm and you hold his face in your hands, leaning down to kiss him with heat.

He deepens the kiss, thumbs rubbing at your thighs as his head tilts back. Your thumbs stroke at his cheek in turn, smiling against his lips.

He actually whines when you pull away, chasing your lips. You rest your hands on his shoulders, simpering down at him.

“Alright, slow down, hotshot. We’re not doing anything in a lake.” You laugh, pushing the dripping white streak back with the rest of his wet hair.

He huffs, “If there was anyone around here I promise you would not be half naked right now.”

You push yourself off of him, dropping back down into the water. “Other people are the least of your concerns,” you say, grinning and splashing him in the face, backing away with haste.

He blinks the water out of his eyes, laughing. “That’s how it is?”

You bite your lip as he approaches and you continue to retreat. “Can’t have you losing focus.”

He raises his brow at you, wearing a smile that says that you should know that was a mistake. He proves it as he dives after you, lifting you up over his shoulder and tossing you into the water with an unfair amount of ease.

You’re a bit hidden away in the tall grass, the scent of lavender flowers placing you in repose. You’re laying with your head in his lap, eyes closed as he pages through his book.

He’s reading out loud, though if you’re being honest, you haven’t fully processed a single word he’s read in at least ten minutes. He’s good at making you relax with his voice, and the amount of exercise you’ve gotten in today is doing nothing to slow it down.

You can’t think of when he started playing with your hair, but it feels soothing and frankly it’s making you very sleepy. Between the gravelly lull of his words and the rustling of the flora throughout the field you’re about to pass out.

“I’m gonna fall asleep.” You mumble, eyes shut.

His hand stills and he extends his book away from his body so he can see your face. “Sweetheart, there’s not a chance in hell you were awake that whole time.”

“I was,” you say, blinking up at him blearily. “I was just resting my eyes.”

He looks down at you skeptically. “How long have we been here?”

You click your tongue, “Like fifteen minutes.”

“It’s been an hour and a half.” he says simply, flipping his book shut from the last page as proof.

“It has n—” you look up at the sky and notice the sun is in a wildly different spot than it was when you’d first laid down. You’re almost completely in the shadows of the trees now. “Wh—why did you let me sleep for so long?”

He hums lowly, “You looked peaceful.” He pauses, “Pretty.”

He looks at the sky, squinting. He nudges you off his lap gently, coming to a stand. “Come on. The sun’s gonna start going down soon.”

You groan and he pulls you up to join him, your fatigue tailing after you. You lean your weight against him and rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes again. “Let’s just stay here.”

You feel him shake his head. “Can’t stay here, sweetheart. Who’ll feed the strays back home?”

He’s right. You can’t leave them to dumpster dive again.

You groan louder as you pull back and stand up straight. “You did not mention that the trail was so long.” You look down at your sore legs and try to stretch them out a bit to get energy back in them.

When you look back up at him, he’s swinging the backpack on, but he stops midway, dropping it to his side again.

He slugs his backpack over your shoulders, turning his back to you and bending down a bit. You take the hint and jump up. He catches you with ease, hoisting you up higher.

He starts down the grassy path out of the field, sidestepping flowers and bumblebees as he goes. Your head lulls to the side and ends with your cheek resting on his shoulder.

He bobs you up, “If I’m carrying you all the way back to the car you have to stay awake.”

“If you’re carrying me all the way back to the car, what difference does it make?” you grumble, eyes fluttering.

“Keep me company.”

You pick your head up and press a kiss to his neck. “I can do that. What do you want to eat tonight?”

He hums thoughtfully. “You wanna get pizza?”

You nod, pleased. “Big day for us.”

You have one arm draped loosely over his shoulder and the other lags by your side. “Are you going on patrol tonight?” You ask him.

He peers back at you haphazardly, “Uh, no—will you hold onto me, please?”

You’re nowhere near falling, but you know that’s not why he wants you to hold onto him. You’re happy to oblige though. You wrap your arms around him, crossing them over each other so you can hold onto his shoulders.

Seemingly content, he continues, “No, I’m not. Wanna stay in with you.”

“Aw. Going soft on me?” You rag.

He hums deeply, “Or maybe I'm just sick of being around Dick.”

You scoff, “Well, if you’re gonna be mean.”

“I’m literally carrying you right now.” He shrugs you up a bit in emphasis. Fair enough.

You look up and can see the pinking hues of the sky in between the leaves of the trees, glowing down softly on you. Your mouth twists into a contemplative frown. It takes you a moment to piece together where you’re at, but you eventually realize you’re only halfway back to the car. “I don’t think we’re gonna make it back before sunset.”

“That’s okay.” He tells you.

You rest your chin on his shoulder, a bemused pout on your face. “You hate it when I’m outside after dark.”

“I hate it when you’re alone outside after dark.” He corrects.

“Ah.” You nod, thoughtfully. “But now I’ve got my strong boyfriend to protect me, right?”

He scoffs but you’re just upset you can’t see the flush on his cheeks that you’re certain is there.

Though he shows no signs of struggling, you’re beginning to feel guilty that he’s spending his day off lugging you around.

“I can walk.” You offer, pushing yourself up a bit, ready to jump down.

“I know.” He says simply, shrugging you up higher.

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART III

Bangchan x reader. (s,f,a)

Chapters: Part I / Part II / Final.

Synopsis: After a mishap on his part, you doubt that Chan is ready for a relationship but he is determined to prove it, except that he's having problems following your one condition. (17k words)

Author's note: Sorry for the late post. Hope you like the new chapter and don't forget to share your thoughts on it x

Chan has always been the type to run when conversations gets hard, when the truth is too heavy to carry. But not today.

Today, he is standing still, facing it head-on. His hand hovers over the wood, hesitating for only a second before he knocks again, his heart is beating out of his chest.

The second knock seems to last forever, but then, the door creaks open and youu stand there, looking at him with an expression that made it clear you aren’t surprised to see him.

Chan feels a lump forming in his throat—he was expecting more. Maybe shock, or even anger. But what he gets is quiet resignation, and that hurt more than he thought it would.

“Can we talk?” His voice comes out softer than he intended, laced with the weight of what he needed to say. His eyes searched yours for any sign of what you're feeling, but you are calm, too calm.

For a moment, you consider his request, eyes narrowing slightly before you step aside to let him in.

Chan exhales a breath he hasn’t realized he is holding and steps past the threshold. The apartment feels familiar, yet foreign—last night’s tension still lingering in the air like a ghost. He can feel the weight of his own mistake pressing down on his shoulders as he moved toward the living room.

You followed behind him, closing the door with a soft click before turning to face him, waiting for him to speak.

Chan runs a hand through his hair, his nerves making him fidget more than usual. He isn’t used to this—staying when things got hard. But here he is, about to dive headfirst into the conversation he would have normally avoided.

“I’m sorry,” he begins in the best way there is: with an apology

“About last night. I know it looked bad,” he winces as the whole incident flashes through his eyes.

Your expression remained unreadable, and that only made his stomach twist. He pauses, carefully find the right words to say next.

“I sent that text before you came over,” he admits, his eyes finally meeting yours. “It was stupid, I know. I was angry... knowing you went on that date. I acted out of impulse, and I didn’t even think she’d show up. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d come.”

You cross your arms in front of you, your silence heavy with expectation and he knows you are waiting for more.

“I messed up,” he continues, the next best thing to do is acknowledging his mistake.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve never sent that text, and I’m so sorry for how things turned out,” he continues, his voice tinted with regret.

Chan’s chest aches with the weight of the confession. He is baring it all, and the fear of rejection, of messing this up even more, is creeping up on him. He takes a step closer, his gaze softening as he looks at you.

“I just... I didn’t want to lose you. And when I saw you with someone else, it hurt. More than I expected it to,” He painfully admits, then he stops talking and waiting for you to respond.

For what feels like an eternity, the silence hangs between you and him like a barrier. Finally, you sigh, dropping your arms to your sides.

“I know it wasn’t great timing,” you begin, your voice calm but firm. “And I know you didn’t mean for things to go the way they did, but Chris... this isn’t just about last night.”

Chan blinks his eyes repeatedly, surprised, “What do you mean?”

You turn to lean against the back of the sofa, “I’ve been thinking about everything. About how fast all of this has been moving, and maybe... maybe I moved on too quickly from my last relationship.”

Then you look away as if searching for the right words, “Maybe we both aren’t ready for this.”

The idea of losing you now, after everything, is unbearable. His heart is sinking but he sees the doubt in your eyes, the walls you are building to protect yourself. And yet, he couldn’t walk away from this—not when he is feeling things he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“I know I’m not perfect,” he says, taking another step closer, his voice thick with emotion. “And I know I’ve made mistakes. But what I feel for you... it’s real. And it’s different from anything I’ve felt in a long time.”

Your eyes flicking up to meet his, and for the first time, he sees something soften in your expression. He presses on, sensing that this is his only chance to convince you.

“I’m not the guy I used to be,” he continues, his voice growing more confident. “Yeah, I’ve had my moments, and yeah, I’ve been a fuckboy. But that’s not who I want to be with you. I want this to work. I want us to work.”

The vulnerability in his voice hit you harder than you expected. You can see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the raw honesty in his words. And despite all the doubts and fears swirling in your mind, there is something about the way he is standing here, owning up to his mistakes, that makes you want to believe him.

“I don’t want another heartbreak, Chris,” you openly share, “The last thing I need is to go through that again.”

He nods, fully understanding the weight of your words but it only encourages him to convince you more, “I promise I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here because I care about you. More than I can put into words.”

For a moment, neither of you say anything. The room feels thick with emotion, but there is also something else—a glimmer of hope. Something worth fighting for.

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you look at him, searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. But all you see is sincerity, and that is enough to make you consider his plea.

“Okay,” you finally whisper, “Let’s give it a shot.”

Chan’s face lights up with a warm smile, his heart swelling with happiness at your decision. But the joy in his expression doesn’t last long as you look at him seriously, your gaze sharp.

“In one condition,” you add.

His smile falters, and a flicker of panic replaces it. “W-What condition?”

“There’ll be no sex,” you say plainly, your voice calm and firm.

“No–no sex?” He stammers, looking at you like you’ve just told him he’s not allowed to breathe. His eyes widen, his mind scrambling to process what you’ve just said.

You nod, your expression unwavering. “I don’t want you to confuse this— physical attraction with emotional connection... Sex will only distract us from our goal.”

Chan’s mouth opens slightly, as if he’s going to protest, but no words come out. He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as he tries to gather his thoughts.

After a moment, he nods, though his expression is one of disbelief. “Okay... okay, no sex.” His voice is strained, but he’s doing his best to sound agreeable.

But then, something flickers in his eyes, and a small hope sneaks back in.

“Just sex, right?” He asks for clarification, a hopeful smile creeping onto his face. “I’m still allowed to kiss you...?”

Your eyes narrow slightly, and a sly smile spreads across your lips. “I’m afraid not.”

His face falls, the hope vanishing in an instant. “Not at all?” He asks, his voice horrified.

“At all,” you confirm, your tone playful but firm.

He stares at you, his expression a mix of shock and despair. “You’re serious?” He mutters, more to himself than to you.

You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as if you’ve just remembered something else. “Oh, and that includes no more barging into my place.”

Chan blinks, still processing the former information when your next statement hits him like a second wave.

“I know you’ve been keeping my spare keys," you say with your eyes narrowed at him, "I want them back.”

He closes his eyes, letting out a long, exasperated sigh as if he’s in the middle of a nightmare he desperately wants to wake up from. But when his eyes open, nothing has changed. You’re still standing there, waiting for him to comply.

“Come on,” you say, nudging his arm gently, “give them back.”

With a deep, reluctant sigh, Chan reaches into his jeans pocket, his movements slow, as if giving up the keys is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He pulls them out and holds them in his hand for a moment before finally passing them over to you.

“Thank you,” you say sweetly, taking the keys from him.

He watches you with a defeated look on his face, his shoulders slumping as you put the keys away. His lips press into a tight line, clearly still processing the fact that not only has he agreed to no sex, but now he doesn’t even have access to your place anymore.

Chan sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is going to be harder than I thought."

You catch his thoughtful expression and smirk, a playful glint in your eyes. “Well, you can just quit now,” you tease, the words light but with a hint of challenge.

His eyes snap to yours, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. “Oh, just wait and see,” he replies, his voice low, but there’s a spark of determination behind it.

The teasing grin lingers on your lips, but Chan’s heart is set. This isn’t just about sticking to your rules—it’s about showing you, through his actions, that he’s no longer the guy who flirts and leaves when things get complicated. He’s here, and he’s staying.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head as if amused by his newfound resolve. “We’ll see.”

"You will," he boldly remarks, his voice steady, and there’s something in his tone that makes you pause. It’s not just a flirty remark or an empty promise. It’s real.

This time, it’s different. He’s different. And he’s going to show you that he’s ready to be the person you deserve.

-

When Chan thinks about it again, you’re not asking for much beyond that one condition—but deep down, he knows it’s more than that. It’s not just about avoiding physical intimacy; it’s about proving himself. He’s not the guy who plays games or casually dates for fun anymore. He’s not that fuckboy. He’s changed, and he’s ready for something real, something meaningful.

However, words are just words until he acts on them.

That’s why Chan waits in the lobby around the time you usually get home from work. To pass the time, he chats with the new guy working the concierge, trying to distract himself from the nervous energy building up.

The second you step into his radar, he can almost sense it. He turns his head toward the entrance, and there you are—pushing through the apartment door with a bag slung over one shoulder and another in hand.

Without missing a beat, Chan rushes toward you, grabbing the bag from your hand. “Great day at work, darling?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

You let out a low scoff, eyeing him skeptically. “And you’re still doing your best at work, huh?”

“Well, I aim to please,” he playfully responds, giving you a wink.

Before you can protest, he takes your bag to the concierge and talks to the new guy to keep it safe, leaving you standing there, eyebrows raised.

“Why... what are you doing with my bag?” you ask, looking at him in confusion.

“He’ll be keeping it safe,” he simply replies, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “While I’m taking you out for dinner.”

Before you can get another word in, he takes your hand, pulling you with him as he drags you right back out the door. You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

It’s clear: Chan’s not just saying things this time—he’s showing you.

The restaurant he is taking you for dinner is only two blocks away from your apartment building, and it surprises you that you didn’t know about it until now.

“How come I didn’t know about this place before?” you ask in wonder, chewing on your food.

Chan clasps his hands together in front of him and props them under his chin, “Maybe if you were being a lovely neighbor from the start, I would’ve taken you here sooner,” he teases.

You narrow your eyes and take a jab back at him, “And maybe if you weren’t busy taking girls home and avoiding them in the morning, you would’ve taken me here sooner.”

Chan sighs in defeat, putting his hands off the table, deciding to let the conversation slide. “But you agree that you like the food, right?”

You shovel another spoonful of food into your mouth and nod in approval, "Mm-mmh," you hum in answer.

Spotting something on the corner of your mouth, he grabs a napkin and, with a soft touch, dabs it away. You look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You had something on your face. Was I just supposed to leave it there?” he defends with his grin.

You take the napkin from him and finish the job yourself. “You know, you don’t have to try this hard,” you say.

It's not a surprise that you would think that way, that he’s overcompensating, but he's doing it all because he genuinely cares for you.

“What? I’m just taking my lovely neighbor to one of my favorite spots nearby,” he says with his signature dimpled grin.

Shaking your head, you sip your drink, unsure how to respond. Before you can think of anything, he changes the subject.

“So, what are we doing this weekend?” he asks, as if it’s a given that you’re spending it together.

“Bold of you to assume I have nothing to do this weekend,” you say.

“Well, if you do have something to do, I can only hope it’s me,” he says with a wink.

You groan and toss a crumpled napkin at him. “I have to work this weekend.”

His groan is louder than yours. “If you’re working weekends too, when do you have time for me?”

You shoot him a look. “As far as I know, you didn’t have a problem keeping yourself entertained before.”

Chan’s smile turns cryptic as he slumps in his seat. “True... but it would be fun to play with you.”

“You remember my one condition, right?” you remind him.

He tosses the crumpled napkin back at you. “There are so many ways to have fun without sex.”

“Sshh,” you shush him, glancing around.

“Why are you still weird about it? We’ve had sex twice al—”

You cover his mouth with your hand, glaring. “You might as well announce to the whole restaurant we’ve had sex twice!”

He pulls your hand away, grinning wide as if he’s about to do it for real, just to see the horror in your eyes. But then he bursts into laughter instead and catching you off guard by kissing your hand softly which makes you withdraw your hand immediately.

“Did you really think I would do that?” he asks, his eyes twinkling.

“For a second, yes,” you admit, a smile tugging at your lips.

“You were right,” he playfully says.

When the server arrives with the bill, you get ahead of Chan, placing your credit card down before he can.

“So you’re the one paying in this relationship?” he teases. “I could get used to that.”

“Don’t,” you warn, rolling your eyes.

The server returns with your card and receipt, but she also gives Chan a familiar smile. “I haven’t seen you in a while,” she says, flirtatiously and completely dismissed your presence there.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been busy,” he replies, glancing nervously at you.

“Next time you stop by, I’ll give you a little free service,” she says, smiling a bit too much.

You’re not blind to her tone, but you keep quiet as the two of you leave the restaurant. Once you’re back at the apartment building, you retrieve your bag from the concierge, muttering your thanks as you take it. Chan offers to carry it for you as you head up in the elevator.

“You should invite that cute server to play with you this weekend,” you say, a hint of jealousy in your voice.

His smile grows, sensing you care more than you let on. He doesn’t respond, leaving you to wonder if he’s considering your suggestion. Even after the elevator doors open, he follows you to your apartment, still carrying your bag.

“I can take it inside for you,” he offers, clearly hoping for an invite in.

“I can take it myself,” you say, effectively blocking his plan.

He hands over the bag with a pout, lingering as you unlock your door. He leans against the doorframe, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“You’re going away for the whole weekend, and I get nothing?” he asks, inching closer.

You cross your arms. “And what do you expect?”

“A kiss would do,” he says, almost shyly, though the glint in his eyes says otherwise.

You shake your head, staying firm on your one condition. “No kisses.”

“Just a nibble then?” He grins wider.

“A nibble?” you laugh. “I’m not some... snack.”

“You’re not. You’re a whole damn feast,” he says, lowering himself to your eye level, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and not hiding his eyes from looking at them.

Your breath hitches as he inches closer, his lips brushing past your ear. His boldness catches you off guard, and your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your jaw. Then, just as he’s about to claim your lips, you block him with your fingers.

“You’re good,” you admit with a smile, “but not that good.”

For a guy who always gets what he wants when he wants it, this is frustrating. He lets out a heavy sigh then drops his head onto your shoulder.

“I have to go,” you mutter, even as you let him hold you.

“Just give me a minute,” he mumbles, nuzzling his head further into your neck, inhaling your scent like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

He savors the moment, holding onto you a little tighter, soaking in the feel of you against him. Everything about you—your warmth, your softness, your scent— oh, it’s all so right.

“I have to wake up early tomorrow,” you whisper again, rubbing a hand along his broad back.

“Fifteen more seconds,” he mumbles, discreetly letting his hand slide lower, only for you to catch it and place it firmly on your back.

You stay like that for a moment longer, neither of you wanting to let go until you finally pull away.

“Goodnight, Chris,” you say softly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight,” he replies with a smile, slowly letting you go, though everything in him wants to hold on.

As you take a step back, he does the same, the two of you locked in a gaze to keep the intimacy of the moment continues through your eyes until you close the door with a faint smile that lingers in the back of his head.

Letting you go isn’t easy, but sometimes he knows he has to if he wants to bring you closer.

-

Chan lies awake on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The weekend he had envisioned was simple: hanging out with you, maybe grabbing dinner or spending lazy afternoons together. But since you weren’t around, the plan had crumbled, leaving him stranded with nothing to do.

He could go out, like he usually does on weekends, but something in him resists. It's too easy to slip back into old habits, to fall into the routine of partying and avoiding the emptiness that comes with it. So instead, he’s here, in his apartment, doing nothing.

With a sigh, he reaches across the bed, his hand brushing against the smooth fabric of something familiar—your underwear. He’d kept it from that night, the night everything between you two changed.

Lifting it to his nose, he inhales deeply, letting your scent flood his senses. Just a whiff, and he’s already lost, a fire igniting in his gut. His cock twitches, aroused, stirred by the memory of you.

Closing his eyes, he lets his mind drift back to that night—the way he had kissed you, held you close, felt your warmth pressed against him. He remembers the way his hands explored your body, how he had parted your legs and exposed you, tantalizing and perfect, making his every nerve scream for more.

"Fuck," he mutters, the word hanging heavy in the quiet of his apartment. His frustration is palpable, throbbing inside him.

The thoughts alone aren’t enough. He needs more. He needs you. But you're not here, and that only makes the ache more unbearable.

Thankfully, his phone rings, pulling him from the spiral he was sinking into. He groans and drags himself out of bed, grabbing the phone off his nightstand. The call is brief, no more than a minute, but it does the job. It snaps him out of the rut he was teetering on the edge of.

It looks like Chan has to go out tonight after all.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he stares at the text that came through. Someone had pulled out of a gig last minute, and now he’s been asked to fill in. It’s a valid reason to get out of the apartment, at least. Better than staying cooped up and letting his thoughts eat at him.

Before he knows it, he's dressed and heading out the door. The club he’s heading to isn’t unfamiliar—it’s one of his favorite spots to work. Maybe it's the crowd, or maybe it’s just because he desperately needs a distraction tonight, but it feels less like work as he steps inside and feels the pulse of the music hit him.

He takes a deep breath and dives into the scene, ready to let the night carry him wherever it leads, all while keeping you in the back of his mind.

After his set, he decides to hang around the club for a bit, rewarding himself with a drink. It’s been a good night, the crowd was lively, and he deserved a little downtime.

He leans against the counter, sipping slowly as the music thumps around him. Girls have been giving him smiles, glancing his way, but he’s used to that. It’s nothing he can’t handle, especially now when he’s keeping his focus sharp.

Then the bartender sets another drink down in front of him.

“This one’s on her,” he says, nodding toward the far corner of the bar.

Chan follows the bartender’s gaze and spots her—a girl with a sultry smile, waving at him. She’s undeniably attractive, but he’s not interested.

Still, it’s just a drink, and rejecting it feels unnecessary. So he lifts his glass, offering her a polite smile of thanks from across the bar.

Before he can even take a sip, someone else steps up to him, practically radiating anger.

“Are you flirting with my girlfriend?” the guy growls, eyes dark and filled with rage.

“What?” Chan responds, confused and caught off guard.

“I said, are you flirting with my girlfriend?” The man’s voice rises, his presence looming over Chan.

“I’m not,” Chan says quickly, holding his hands up defensively. “She bought me a drink, and I thanked her. That’s all.”

But the guy isn’t having it. He steps closer, grabbing the front of Chan’s shirt with one fist. “How dare you lie to me!” he shouts, pulling Chan closer, their faces inches apart.

Before things can escalate further, the girl who started all of this rushes over, forcing herself between them.

“Stop! He’s telling the truth!” she says, tugging at her boyfriend’s arm and dragging him away from Chan.

Chan can see the regret in her eyes as she mouths, “I’m sorry,” before leading her fuming boyfriend toward the exit.

As they leave, Chan sighs, straightening his shirt and shaking his head. Maybe tonight, he should have just stayed in his apartment after all.

-

Chan arrives at his place, feeling weighed down by the events of the day. You've only been gone a day, but it feels like an eternity to him. Everything feels off without you around, stretching out every second into what feels like endless suffering.

He needs you. Desperately.

He knows it's late, and he isn’t even sure if you're home yet, but he finds himself walking toward your door. His feet move on their own, driven by an overwhelming need for comfort. When he gets there, he knocks gently at first, waiting in the quiet hallway. No response.

With a sigh, Chan leans his forehead against your door, feeling a sinking hopelessness wash over him.

“Please… open the door,” he mutters, almost to himself.

Then, to his surprise, he hears movement on the other side. He steps back quickly, his heart racing as the door creaks open, revealing you—looking slightly disoriented, your hair tousled from what must’ve been sleep.

"I'm sorry," Chan says, his voice soft with guilt. "I didn’t know you were home already."

"I just got home not long ago," you reply, your voice still thick with sleep.

Seeing you—standing there in the low light, with tired eyes and that familiar warmth—pulls at his heart in a way that makes him ache. He inhales deeply, trying to steady himself before speaking again.

“I’ve had a really, really bad day,” he admits, his voice low, almost breaking.

The truth is, you’re a big part of why his day feels so unbearable. The distance between you gnaws at him, creating a physical ache he can’t shake. He needs you, even just your presence, to feel whole again.

Without thinking, he reaches for your hand, holding it gently but firmly, as if letting go would mean losing his grip on everything.

"Can I stay the night with you?" His voice is heavy with vulnerability.

You hesitate, shaking your head. "You know that we can't—"

“I swear I’m not trying to do anything else,” he cuts in quickly, his eyes pleading. "I just... I just want to be with you tonight. Please?"

The sadness in his voice is raw, and you can see how much he needs this, needs you. You massage your neck, the exhaustion of the day visible in your eyes as you consider his request.

For a moment, silence hangs between you two. Then, finally, you nod. “Okay.”

From the way you're giving in with less resistance than usual, Chan can tell you're too tired to fight him on this tonight. He feels a pang of guilt but, at the same time, relief. A win is a win, and right now, he just needs to be near you, hoping his presence might bring some comfort, as yours does to him.

Once you let him in, there's no more talking. You silently lead him to your bed, making space for him without any fuss.

"You can have that side," you gesture to the left side, your voice soft with exhaustion.

Any side would do. As long as he's here, next to you, he couldn't care less. You crawl under the covers while Chan stands there, starting to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Your voice holds suspicion, your eyes peeking over the blankets.

He smirks, pulling the shirt off. "I told you I sleep naked."

"Naked naked?" you ask, eyebrows raising as his fingers move to his jeans.

He notices the way your eyes fixated on his body, he knows you like what you're seeing so he makes a good show out of it. He's working his jeans open in a painstakingly slow motions, stripping down to his dark boxers.

"Your expression is filthy," he jokes, "what are you thinking?"

You let out a scoff and tuck yourself into the blanket, trying so hard to not to be affected by what he just did.

Chan can't help but quietly smiling in triumphant and comes over to the bed. Climbing into bed next to you feels surreal. It's more than just sharing a space now; you're sharing your bed.

The scent of your sheets is intoxicating, subtle yet enough to make him feel like he's sinking into you even without touching. He pulls the covers over himself, careful to leave a respectful gap between you two, honoring your one condition.

He rolls onto his side, facing you, while you lay on your back, eyes closed. The darkness wraps around both of you, the room heavy with quiet and the faint smell of your perfume lingering in the air.

"What happened?" you ask, eyes still shut, your voice breaking the silence.

"What?" Chan asks, fingers barely brushing the edge of your arm, almost on instinct.

"You said you had a bad day," you repeat, softly, your voice drifting through the stillness.

He sighs, staring up at the ceiling now. "Well, I went out tonight and I tried to be... good," he starts, his voice low. "But it turned out to be not easy."

You don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, your presence alone urging him to be honest.

"I was at this club after my set, just hanging out. Someone sent me a drink, and next thing I know, this guy is in my face, accusing me of flirting with his girlfriend," he explains, his tone frustrated. "I didn’t even do anything. But... it just made me realize how easy it is for things to get messed up. One small misunderstanding, and it all spirals."

His fingers lightly brush your arm now, the contact gentle, but you don't push him away. He takes that as permission to continue.

"I don’t want to be that guy anymore—the one who gets mixed up in stuff like that," he murmurs. "I’m trying to be better... for you."

You don’t respond right away, your breathing steady, as if you’re already halfway to sleep. But your silence is enough of an answer for him. He feels calmer, just being here with you.

"He almost punched me," Chan dramatically shares to gain sympathy from you.

You chuckle softly, "So, the usual, huh?"

"The usual, yeah," he responds, grinning.

"But that's also where you're doing it wrong, Chris," you say, turning your body to face him and see his eyebrows knit in confusion.

"You're doing it for me." You say, resting your hand under your head as you clarify, "When you should be doing this for you."

That sinks in, and it hits him why everything's felt like a struggle lately. He's been trying to change because of external pressure—because of you—not because he truly wanted it for himself.

"Don’t get me wrong," you continue gently, your voice low and soothing. "I appreciate that you’re willing to change for me, but I want you to change because you want it. For yourself."

Your words, so calm and caring, open up a new perspective for him. It's not just about trying to impress or be better for you, but about becoming someone he's proud of. It all feels clearer now, and at the same time, he feels a deep sense of reassurance—he really is with the right person.

"Can we cuddle?" Chan asks, pulling his best puppy eyes to win you over.

You don’t answer verbally, but the way you open your arms for him is all the permission he needs.

Without wasting a second, he slides in closer, wrapping himself around you, his arm draped over your body as he nestles his head into the crook of your neck. The warmth of your body envelops him, bringing a sense of comfort he desperately needed.

"Goodnight, Chris," you murmur, patting his head softly.

"Goodnight," he mumbles back, sneaking in a kiss on your jaw.

You let it slide this time, smiling into the darkness before closing your eyes, drifting off.

Chan, however, is still wide awake, his mind buzzing with the proximity between you two. There's only a thin layer of clothes separating your bodies, and he's doing his best to respect your boundaries, but the way your warmth radiates against him makes sleep the last thing on his mind.

Still, he takes a deep breath, doing his best to settle down, grateful for this moment of closeness with you.

-

Chan is used to waking up unsure of his surroundings, but this morning is different. He knows exactly where he is, and for once, he doesn't immediately rush off. Instead, he nestles his head closer to yours, savoring the warmth of your body pressed against his while you're still unaware that he's awake.

The sound of your alarm blaring from your phone finally breaks the silence. You groan, forcing yourself to wake up, eyes still closed as your hand fumbles around the bedside table to turn it off.

After silencing the alarm, you yawn and stretch, your body still heavy with sleep. "Ugh, I have to go to work," you mutter, tapping Chan’s forearm in a silent request for him to release you.

But instead of letting you go, he tightens his hold, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. "No, stay," he mumbles, his voice low and groggy.

"Not everyone makes money from spinning records," you tease, a playful jab at his career.

"I’m not going to take that personally," he grumbles, his voice muffled as he refuses to lift his head from your neck.

You chuckle softly, your fingers naturally slipping into his curls. Gently, you start brushing them with your fingertips, feeling the texture of his hair as you absentmindedly comment, "Is this your natural hair?"

"Hmm," he hums, affirming.

"They’re a bit dry and..." You pull back slightly to take a better look, "...a little dull too."

"Mmh..." he hums again, clearly enjoying the gentle scratching of your fingers against his scalp.

"You should condition them better," you suggest, offering hair advice out of the blue.

An idea forms in Chan’s mind, and though he knows you’ll likely see right through him, he can’t resist. He lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes, a cheeky grin forming on his lips as he asks, "Can you show me how to take care of my curls?"

The playful gleam in his eyes is unmistakable, and you can already tell what he's up to. But the question catches you off guard enough to make you laugh.

"Show you how exactly?" you ask, raising an eyebrow as you pretend to play dumb.

Chan, trying to sound casual but failing miserably, stumbles through his words, "You know... we could, uh, get in the shower together, and you can, um, show me how to... condition my curls, or whatever…" He flashes you that dimpled grin, the one that always manages to make his adorable babbling irresistible.

You lift your head slightly, propping it up with one hand as you look at him skeptically. "You want us to shower together so I can teach you how to wash your hair?"

He nods, eyes wide with feigned innocence, fully expecting a refusal and maybe a reminder of the boundary you’ve set about physical intimacy. But instead, you surprise him by giving in.

"Okay," you simply say.

The stunned expression on his face is priceless, his eyes widening further as if he didn’t quite hear you right. "Wait, really?"

You shrug nonchalantly, "Sure. You want to learn, right?" You give him a smirk, teasing him without saying it outright, fully aware of what he's really after.

His grin grows, and for a second, he looks like he’s about to leap out of bed with excitement. "Yeah, of course," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrays him.

Without another word, you swing your legs out of bed, standing up and stretching a bit before heading toward the bathroom. Chan watches you, dumbfounded for a second, before scrambling to follow.

-

Nothing could have prepared Chan for this.

The moment you slip your nightdress off and pull your underwear down your legs, his brain shuts down. His eyes roam over your bare skin, every curve, every inch of you exposed, leaving nothing to the imagination.

As if that weren't enough, you gather your hair into a messy bun on top of your head, exposing your neck—a sight that only intensifies his desire. He stands there, frozen, unable to decide which part of you to look at first.

You step into the shower, and Chan steps aside, barely breathing as the water begins to cascade down your body. He watches the droplets slide over your skin, wishing desperately that he could replace the water, that he could all over you like that.

When you turn to face him, he lets out a low breath, trying to keep his composure. His gaze travels down your body, soaking in every detail, every inch that he so badly wants to touch. He grips the shower stall handle tightly, fighting the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you.

Your hands slide down your body, the action as innocent as washing off yesterday's weariness, but in his mind, it's anything but innocent. You're driving him crazy, and you know it. The way you look at him, allowing him to watch you like this—it's tantalizing, almost cruel.

"Okay, first," you break the silence, your voice echoing in the small shower chamber. "We need to get your hair wet."

He almost forgot the pretense of this shower. He tears his eyes away from your body and focuses on your words, trying to remember that this was supposed to be about hair care. You take the showerhead and aim it at him, chuckling as he remains rooted to the floor.

"It's hard if you stand so far away," you tease.

He steps closer, knowing that proximity will only make things worse for him. Still, he obeys. The moment you're close enough, you bring the showerhead to his hair, gently wetting it with your fingers brushing through his curls. He's so close to you, his lips mere inches from yours. He has to fight the urge to kiss you, to taste your skin.

"Now it's wet and ready," you murmur, putting the showerhead aside and reaching for the shampoo. You work it into his scalp, massaging it in slow, circular motions.

"That feels good," Chan mutters, his voice rough with desire.

"Yeah?" you whisper, stepping even closer, your chest now grazing his. "You like that?"

"Yeah, I like that," he says, his voice strained as he struggles to keep it together.

The intense eye contact is too much for him, and though he's usually good at holding a gaze, this is different. He closes his eyes, trying to calm the heat building inside him. His body is betraying him, and the situation down there is getting harder—literally—to control.

"Okay, now we're going to wash it out," you say, grabbing the showerhead again and rinsing the shampoo from his hair.

Chan almost groans when you step away, the loss of your touch leaving him aching for more. He keeps his eyes closed as you instructed, but every brush of your fingers against his scalp, every sigh you let out, sends him spiraling.

"It's all good now," you say, smiling as you wipe a stray bit of foam from his face.

He's at ease, yet burning inside. He feels taken care of, but also teased to the brink of madness.

"What's next?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"We're going to condition it next," you explain, turning away to get the conditioner. "Your curls need moisture, so you have to condition regularly. Or just condition without shampooing sometimes."

He nods, barely hearing your words. The proximity, the feel of your breath on his ear, is driving him wild. As you apply the conditioner, you're even closer than before, so close that he can feel your breath on his neck. He’s barely holding on.

Then you ask, casually, "Do you want me to wash your body too?"

The offer hits him like a shockwave, and for a moment, he can't speak. Blinking, he nods, his heart pounding. You take a bar of soap, lathering it up before sliding your hands over his skin. Every touch is electric, and when your hand glides over his abs, he clenches them, trying to maintain control. Your hand goes lower, tracing the path along his pelvic bone.

But then, mercifully, your hand moves away. You rub down his legs and even grab his rear, making him chuckle nervously.

"Something funny?" you ask, feigning innocence.

"Nothing," he replies, swallowing hard as he lets you continue. He’s letting you do whatever you want, helpless under your hands.

When you finish, the two of you just stand there under the warm water, the tension in the air thickening by the second. The bathroom feels smaller, the space between you more unbearable.

Chan snaps. He grabs your hips roughly and pulls you flush against him, his body fitting against yours perfectly. He presses his lips against your neck, kissing the soft spot under your ear. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his dark, lust-filled gaze.

"What’s next?" he growls.

You wrap your arms around his neck, dragging your lips along his jaw until your mouth hovers near his ear.

"I'm going out of the shower," you whisper, "and I'll give you a few minutes to..." Your eyes flick downward, pointedly glancing at his hardening member. "...sort out your situation."

You kiss his cheek and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself. With one last playful smile, you say, "I can't be late for work."

And just like that, you leave him standing there—wet, aroused, and utterly flabbergasted.

-

Chan’s life is different now—less chaotic, more focused. He’s found a new rhythm, avoiding old habits and temptations, reminding himself that he can be better. At work, he's polite, giving empty promises when girls ask him for drinks, knowing full well he has no intention of following through. His nights out have become rare, and if he feels that sexual urges, he'll channel that energy into working out at the gym.

Tonight, he's watching for you, keeping his apartment door open so he can see when you arrive home. The moment he hears the elevator chime, he rushes to the door and spots you stepping out, looking exhausted from work.

“Hey, neighbor,” he greets, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You give him a tired but warm smile. “Hey.”

Chan walks over, grabbing one of your bags to help lighten your load. “Come on, I cooked us dinner.”

The sight of you eating so well makes him feel proud. Every bite you take feels like a reward for the time he spent preparing the meal. When you finish your plate and look at him with a shy smile, asking for more, he grins and happily gets up, placing more fried rice on your plate.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely as he refills your glass of water before sitting back down.

“You’re very welcome,” Chan responds, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment.

Dinner ends with a cold can of beer, and soon, you're both on the sofa, enjoying the comfortable silence that fills the space. Chan sits there, the question he’s been wanting to ask weighing on his mind. He takes a breath.

“Do you have plans this Saturday?” he asks casually.

“Why?” you inquire, taking a sip of water, sensing something behind the question.

“A friend asked me to play at his sister’s wedding,” he explains, his arm resting on the back of the sofa, his hand just brushing your shoulder. “and I want you to come with me.”

“As a date?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Chan grins, trying to suppress his excitement. “As a date, yes.”

“I’d love to,” you say, but something in your tone makes him sense there’s more.

“But?” he asks, bracing for the letdown.

“I can’t. I have a guest coming over that day,” you explain apologetically.

“A guest?” His eyebrows raise in curiosity.

You nod. “Yeah, a guest.”

“Family?”

“No.”

“Colleague?”

“Nope.”

“Friends?” he asks, growing more curious with each question.

You shake your head, hesitating for a moment before finally revealing, “Ex-boyfriend.”

Chan leans back, exasperated. “So, you're not coming with me because Lee is coming over?”

“Yes,” you answer, trying to keep things simple.

He stares at you, dumbfounded. “But why?”

“Because I told him to,” you respond, trying to sound nonchalant, though you know it’s frustrating him.

“What?!” Chan looks at you in disbelief, his eyes wide.

You laugh softly at his reaction, putting your glass down and settling into the couch. “I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying to make this work, so, I thought maybe it’s time I do my part too.”

He’s silent, listening intently, trying to understand what you mean.

“I told Lee to come so he can take his things from my place,” you explain. “That way, I can have space for… new things.”

Chan’s pout fades into a smile as the meaning behind your words sinks in. Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, holding it gently on your lap. For a moment, he can’t believe it—the two of you are really doing this. You're starting fresh, together.

“Okay,” he says softly, understanding now. “I get it.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, smiling back at him.

“I still want you to come with me, though,” he says, the hint of disappointment still lingering.

“I’m sorry,” you reply, genuinely apologetic. Then, with a playful glint in your eyes, you offer, “But I can still help you with your hair if you want.”

Chan laughs, his grin returning. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

Later, when he walks you to your apartment door, he dreads the moment of parting. You share a long, warm embrace, and as usual, you're the first to pull away, though you keep holding his hand for just a little longer.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say softly.

Chan smirks, joking to lighten the mood. “If you’re really thankful, you should dream of me tonight.”

You smile, playing along. “I’ll try.”

“And I’ll try to dream of you too,” he pauses, his voice dropping to a mischievous whisper, “preferably naked.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a laugh. “Good luck with that!”

He gently caresses your face, his eyes warm as they meet yours. “Goodnight,” he says softly, then adds with a smirk, “I think we should start picking pet names.”

You shake your head, but there’s a smile on your face as you step back, ready to go. “Goodnight, Chris.”

“Goodnight… baby?” he tries, testing out the pet name.

You say nothing, just smiling at him one last time before you let go of his hand and step inside, leaving him standing there, heart fluttering, wondering when he’ll get to hold you again.

-

Chan stands in front of the mirror, buttoning up his shirt, though leaving the cuffs open for now. He can’t help but think what a shame it is—looking this good and going to the wedding without a date. You had refused his invitation, but he can’t fault you for it. There’s something good in your intentions, and all he can do is be understanding.

He’s about to grab his suit jacket when there’s a knock at the door. With a smile, he heads to open it, already knowing who it is.

There you stand, a can of hairspray in one hand and a hair straightener in the other. “It’s your hair appointment,” you announce with a grin.

Chan chuckles and motions you inside. He sits in front of the mirror while you stand behind him, carefully styling his hair. As he watches you work, he’s struck by how focused you look—creases forming between your brows, your lips slightly pursed in concentration. He never thought it was possible for someone to be both cute and sexy at the same time, but here you are, proving him wrong.

“Would that suffice?” you ask after spraying his hair one last time.

“No,” Chan says, his tone playful, “not if you’re not coming with me.”

You smile but don’t respond, busying yourself with taming the last few stray hairs at the nape of his neck. “You’re done now,” you announce, satisfied with your work.

He glances at himself in the mirror and smiles. “Aren’t you going to kiss me on the cheek and tell me I look handsome?”

“I don’t remember saying that,” you tease, tidying up the clutter on the table.

Chan stands, smoothing down his shirt, but there’s one more thing to complete his look. He picks up the tie from the table and holds it out to you. “We still have a problem here.”

You glance up, understanding immediately. Without a word, you take the tie from his hands and skillfully knot it around his collar. Your fingers work quickly, and before long, the tie is secured neatly in place.

“Okay, you’re ready now,” you say with a nod.

Chan puts on his suit jacket, then spins around with his arms spread wide, showing off the full look. “How do I look?”

You step closer, and to his surprise, you plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “You look handsome,” you say with a soft smile.

He stands there for a moment, warmth spreading through him from that simple gesture. It’s enough to make him feel like he’s already won, even if he’s going to the wedding alone. He places his hands gently on your waist and pulls you closer, his voice soft but persuasive.

"It's not too late to text Lee and tell him to come another day," he suggests, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reconsideration.

You chuckle lightly, looping your arms around his shoulders. "I don’t think it's wise to cancel it on the last minute," you explain, your tone gentle but firm.

He nods, accepting your decision even though it’s not the answer he wanted. At least you have a good reason, and it’s not as if you’re choosing your ex over him. But the tension lingers, and Chan pulls you even closer, savoring this tender moment before Lee shows up and disrupts his day. He knows he has no reason to be jealous, but it nags at him anyway—what if Lee has other intentions with this visit?

"Can't you just... put his things in a box and mail it to him?" He asks, a hint of frustration seeping into his voice.

You chuckle again, tilting your head slightly. "We’re grown-ups, Chris. We broke up on good terms. I don’t see why we can’t be civil after everything."

Chan tightens his grip around you, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. "But what if he asks you to get back with him?"

Instead of answering, you raise an eyebrow and ask, "And you think I’d say yes?"

His grin widens, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

You shake your head, smiling. "Oh, Chris... you're ridiculous."

He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. "Yeah, but I had to ask. I just don't like the idea of him coming around."

"He's just going to come, pick up his things, and leave," you explain, trying to reassure Chan that there’s no need for jealousy.

Chan takes the opportunity to pull you even closer, his arms tightening around you with a possessive gleam in his eyes. "No deep talking, no reminiscing the shared memories, okay? No smiling either," he warns, his voice full of playful intensity.

You laugh at his protectiveness, letting him rest his forehead against yours.

"I love the way you smile," he says suddenly, the words catching you off guard. "I want to tell you to do it more often, but I don't."

"Why?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

"Because you don’t give it to everyone," Chan murmurs, his lips grazing your cheek as he moves to whisper in your ear. "And I don’t plan on sharing you."

The possessive edge in his voice stirs something in you, and you feel yourself relax, leaning into his embrace. His fingers cup your jaw, tilting your head ever so slightly as he draws closer, his gaze flicking down to your lips.

Just as he’s about to close the gap, a knock sounds—not on his door, but across the hall. You gently break away from his hold, heading to check with Chan trailing behind, a bit flustered.

"Oh, Lee, I'm sorry, I was at Chris's place," you say as you open the door and spot your ex, Lee, standing there.

"Oh hey," Lee greets you, stepping forward and pulling you into a hug. A hug that, to Chan, feels way too long. Chan clears his throat loudly, making his presence known.

Lee finally lets go of you and acknowledges him. "Oh, hey, Chris," Lee says, extending his hand for a handshake.

Chan hates that Lee’s actually being nice—he's a good guy, and that makes him feel like the bad guy.

"Hey, Lee," Chan mutters, reluctantly shaking his hand.

"You look dashing. Going somewhere?" Lee asks, genuinely.

"Yeah, uh... a friend's wedding," Chan replies, his earlier hostility fading slightly.

As they exchange pleasantries, you unlock your door and gesture for Lee to come inside. "Please, come in," you say.

"Are you joining us, Chris?" Lee asks, seriously offering for him to stay.

Chan would love nothing more than to stay and keep an eye on things, but he checks the time on his phone and realizes he’s already pushing it if he doesn’t leave now. "I have to go, actually," he says, regret heavy in his voice.

"What a pity! I brought us food," Lee says to you, smiling. "It’s the baked ziti from your favorite place."

You smile awkwardly, glancing at Chan. "That’s so nice of you, Lee."

"See you next time, Chris," Lee says as he steps into your apartment.

Chan sighs, feeling torn between wanting to stay and knowing he has to leave. His chest tightens as he glances at you one last time.

"I’ll see you later, okay?" you say, smiling, though it does little to comfort him.

"Don’t smile at him!" Chan grumbles, trying to cling to his playfully jealous tone.

You laugh softly and surprise him by stepping forward, placing a quick but tender peck on his lips. The brief contact sends butterflies swirling in his stomach.

"Have fun at the wedding," you say sweetly, flashing him one last smile before closing the door.

Chan stands there for a moment, his heart racing, the taste of your lips lingering. He shakes his head, smiling to himself as he turns to leave, knowing that despite everything, you’re still his.

-

Seeing that most of the guests have already left and only a few remain on the dance floor, Chan decides it’s time to wrap up his set. Grabbing the mic, he announces, "Everyone, this is the last dance."

His suit is no longer in its proper form—he ditched the jacket long ago, his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck. He inhales deeply, satisfied with a job well done.

As he packs up, his friend, the groom's brother, hands him a bottle of champagne as a token of gratitude. "You killed it, mate. Thanks for stepping in."

"Anytime, man," Chan says with a grin, accepting the bottle. Just as he’s about to take a sip, a voice interrupts him.

"Are you planning on sharing that?"

He turns around, surprised to see someone he least expected. "Sue?"

"Oh, I thought you forgot about me," Sue says with a teasing smile.

How could he? Sue was his first love, the one who gave him his first heartbreak. She’s older and taller than him, just like before, but Chan sees her differently now—not as the boy who once idolized her, but as a man. Yet, the admiration still lingers.

Sue chuckles and gives him a quick hug. "Of all places, we meet here?"

"I know, right?" Chan shakes his head, still bewildered. "My friend is the brother of the bride."

"And I’m one of the groom's family," Sue says, showing off the dress. "What a small world!"

They share the bottle of champagne in the garden, sitting by the pool as they catch up. The evening air is warm, and the conversation flows easily.

"Is it alright that you're here with me?" Chan asks, glancing around as though expecting someone to pop up and claim her.

"Why wouldn’t it be?" Sue replies.

"I don’t know. I figured your boyfriend would be looking for you soon," Chan jokes, though there’s a part of him that’s curious.

"I don’t have a boyfriend," Sue says casually, taking a sip from the bottle.

Chan arches an eyebrow. "That's a lie!"

Sue playfully elbows him. "Oh, I know you’re happy to know I’m single," she teases.

"You can’t be single," Chan insists.

"But I am," she assures him, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"No way," Chan shakes his head, unable to believe it. "I mean, you’re taller and more beautiful than the last time we met. You can’t be single."

Sue leans in, her tone shifting ever so slightly. "And maybe that's why we met again tonight."

The suggestion in her voice throws him off balance, and before he can say anything, they bump into a group of people running around in their underwear, dripping wet and giggling as they pass by. Some guests have clearly taken the after-party to the hot tub.

Sue looks at the now-empty, steaming hot tub and asks, "What do you think?"

"You... you want to get in the hot tub?" Chan asks, incredulous.

"You and me, together," Sue says with a mischievous grin, her fingers already reaching for the zipper of her dress.

Chan's eyes widen as she strips down to her undergarments, standing confidently in front of him.

Before he can protest, she grabs his hand and pulls him toward the tub. "Come on! It’s getting cold!"

Seeing no harm in it—and after all, it’s been a lovely night—Chan relents. He strips down to his boxers and slowly lowers himself into the steaming water. The heat engulfs him, relaxing his muscles.

Sue leans back in the tub, her fingers playfully skimming the surface of the water. "Chris, you’ve really grown since the last time I saw you."

"Nah, I’m still the same," Chan says, feeling oddly shy. Despite the years that have passed, Sue still has a way of making him feel like a nervous kid.

"You're... hot. Like, really hot," Sue says with a giggle, her eyes sweeping over him.

Chan shakes his head, his ears turning red. "Nah, nah."

Sue moves closer, her voice dropping. "I’ll admit, I regretted rejecting you back then."

"You’re only saying that to make me feel better," Chan says, trying to deflect, but there’s a seriousness in her eyes that throws him off.

"Let's hope that's the case," Sue replies, and for a moment, their gazes lock, the tension thickening between them.

The heat of the water and the intensity of her gaze make Chan’s heart race, and he’s not sure if it’s just the temperature that’s making him feel this way. "It’s getting late," he finally says, breaking the moment.

"Yeah, you’re right," Sue agrees, being the first to climb out of the tub. She picks up her dress from the sun chair—and grabs Chan’s clothes as well.

"Hey, Chris," she says, a devilish grin spreading across her face as he’s about to step out of the water. "I have your clothes."

Before he can react, Sue takes off running, leaving Chan standing there, drenched and half-dressed.

"Sue!" Chan shouts, scrambling to get out of the tub. With no other option, he chases after her, his laughter echoing in the night.

As a family member of the wedded family, Sue has a room reserved at the resort, and she generously offers it to Chan so he can clean up after their impromptu dip in the hot tub. Chan stands in the bathroom, holding a hair dryer in one hand and his damp boxers in the other. He’s wrapped in a towel, waiting for his clothes to dry as he awkwardly shifts from one foot to the other.

"Chris, are you done?" Sue’s voice calls from outside the door.

"Almost done!" Chan shouts back, his voice strained. The air in the bathroom is warm and heavy, matching the tension he feels in his chest.

Before he can finish drying his boxers, Sue barges into the bathroom, still in her wet undergarments, her towel loosely wrapped around her. She doesn’t seem to care that he’s there.

"I can't wait any longer," she announces, her voice playful but firm as she strides confidently toward the shower stall, tossing her towel to the floor.

Chan swallows hard, eyes widening as she starts stripping out of her wet underwear. His gaze flickers to the mirror, catching glimpses of her body before he quickly tries to avert his eyes, heat rising to his face.

"I–I'm almost done..." Chan mumbles, his voice barely audible now as he turns the hair dryer off, but his words trail off because Sue isn’t listening. She’s busy shedding the last of her clothing, standing completely exposed now, her back to him.

His heart pounds, and though he desperately tries to look away, his eyes betray him, catching her figure in the reflection again. She moves toward the shower, but then she pauses, noticing his gaze through the mirror. A small smile curves her lips as she saunters back toward him, utterly confident.

"Chris," she says, her voice dropping to a low, sultry tone that sends a shiver down his spine. She steps closer, her bare body now in full view. "Want to shower together?"

Chan’s throat tightens, and he can’t seem to find the words. His mind is racing, caught between a surge of old feelings and the shocking reality of the moment. Sue stands there, teasingly exposed, as if waiting for him to make the next move.

Chan was a boy back then but now, he's just a man.

-

Is Chan still mad about Lee visiting you? Or did he go somewhere after the wedding and forget to tell you? Or... maybe he simply doesn't want to see you?

You’ve been turning these thoughts over in your mind ever since that night. You thought he’d come over after the wedding, share his usual stories about the day, about anything, really—like he always does. But the silence has been unsettling.

Coming home from work today, you half-expect to see him standing at his door, greeting you with that dimpled grin, his usual "Hi, neighbor." But all you see is his closed door.

You convince yourself that if Chan wants to see you, he’ll come around like usual, to poke fun at you or make you laugh. But it’s been too long now, and a knot of worry forms in your chest. What if he’s sick? What if something’s wrong?

After dropping off your bags and changing into comfortable clothes, you make up your mind and head over to his door. You knock, heart thudding with anticipation. A few moments later, you hear footsteps from inside.

When the door creaks open, there he is. He looks well—he looks good, as usual—but something feels off. There’s no dimpled grin, no sparkle in his eyes.

"Hey, can I come in?" you ask, hoping your voice doesn't betray the unease creeping in.

"Sure," he says, stepping aside to let you enter.

You walk in and sit on the sofa, waiting for him to join you. The silence feels heavier than usual, and he seems distant, avoiding your gaze.

"How are you?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

He lets out a long sigh before replying, "I’m good." He says but it doesn’t feel like the truth.

"That’s good to hear," you say, though you can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.

You reach out to press your hand gently against his forehead. "You’re not sick, are you?"

He lets you touch him, and you tease, "Ooh... you’re still the hottest tenant in this building."

You hope the joke might lighten the mood, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s faint, distant. You don’t want to push him too hard, but this isn’t Chan. Not the Chan you know.

"Are you trying a new persona?" you tease again, nudging him lightly. "Because this brooding emo guy thing doesn’t suit you."

This time, he chuckles, and the sound makes your heart lift a little. He finally looks at you, and his hand reaches for yours, fingers loosely intertwining with yours in the space between you on the sofa.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, the apology catching you off guard.

"What for?" you ask, scooting closer to him, sensing that he’s carrying something heavy. You want to comfort him, whatever it is.

He leans back against the sofa, exhaling deeply. You wait, giving him the space to gather his thoughts.

"I met someone at the wedding," he begins, his voice careful.

A flicker of unease ripples through you, but you don’t say anything. You stay calm, letting him explain.

"Oh no, don't say you ran away with the bride," you joke, but it's more to ease the tension you feel building inside you.

Chan doesn’t react. He keeps looking straight ahead, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

"I met Sue," he starts, his voice struggling to push the words out. "She’s... someone I knew from the past."

You stay quiet, sensing that there’s more he needs to get out, but the pauses between his words are long and heavy.

"We met there, talked, had some drinks... and we ended up taking a quick dip in the hot tub."

"Sounds fun," you say, but your voice is flat, far from convincing.

He swallows hard, visibly uncomfortable. "We ended up in her hotel room... we were in the bathroom at the same time, and then... she asked if I wanted to shower with her."

Your heart sinks, but you brace yourself for whatever comes next. You stare down at your lap, your thoughts swirling, every unkind possibility flashing through your mind.

"I didn’t take her up on it," he quickly adds, "but... I hesitated. And in that moment, I realized I completely dismissed your feelings. I hate myself for it." His voice cracks with regret, and you can see the pain etched across his face.

"Maybe I haven’t changed at all," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "Maybe I’ll always be... this... ‘fuckboy Chris.’" He lets out a heavy sigh, tilting his head back as if trying to escape the weight of his own thoughts.

He turns to look at you, his eyes full of sadness. "Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not ready for this." His voice is small now, hesitant. "And I’ll understand if you don’t want to continue."

It’s a lot to take in. The silence fills the room, and you let yourself feel everything. The disappointment, the hurt, the empathy. You need time, just a few moments, to let it all sink in.

When you finally lift your head, you give him a soft, bittersweet smile. "Thank you for being honest with me," you begin, your voice steady but quiet. "And I know it wasn’t easy to say... but I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed."

His expression is heartbreaking. "I’m really sorry," he whispers.

"But Chris..." You take his hand, resting it on your lap, your fingers curling around his. "The fact that you acknowledged what you did was wrong, and that you took responsibility for it, shows me you're on the right path."

His eyes shift, the glints of warmth starting to return. "Don’t ever say you can’t change. You’re changing... I can see it, believe me."

Chan lets out a breath, his relief palpable. He pulls you closer, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "Goodness, what did I do to deserve you?"

You chuckle softly, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. "You don’t have to be perfect for me, Chris. You just need to be good for yourself."

He buries his head into the curve of your neck, his arms tight around you, holding on as if to remind himself this isn’t the end. Not yet.

"But, you know..." you tease, your voice light. "You could always quit now."

"Never!" he exclaims, pulling you even tighter into his embrace.

The two of you sit there, holding onto each other, your flaws laid bare. The silence between you feels different now—it's full of understanding, and something deeper starting to grow.

Chan tenderly cups your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, and his eyes soften as they lock with yours.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," he whispers, his voice full of quiet gratitude.

You meet his gaze, the same emotions swirling within you. "Thank you for not giving up on me," you echo, because this journey hasn't been easy for either of you.

The moment between you is tender, delicate, and charged with something deeper—something that goes beyond words. You can feel it in the air, and in the way he looks at you. It feels right, like it needs to be sealed with something more, something real.

Your hands gently cradle his face, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. You swipe your thumb across his mouth, your touch lingering as you think about how much you missed the feel of him, the taste of him. Slowly, you lean in, closing the space between you, and press your lips to his.

The kiss feels unlike any you've shared before. It's soft, deliberate, and filled with all the unsaid emotions between you. His lips move against yours with such tenderness, and in that moment, everything melts away—the hesitation, the doubts, the fear. This kiss marks the start of something new, something deeper.

Chan kisses you gently, and it makes your heart tremble in your chest. Every brush of his lips against yours speaks of the emotions he's been holding back, the sadness and the sweetness of what you’ve both been through. It’s bittersweet and lovely, all at once.

This kiss signifies that you’re ready—both of you are ready to take this leap, to explore this new depth together.

When the kiss breaks, Chan can’t help but smile, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. He buries his head in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent that always calms him down. The feeling of your hand rubbing his back as you rest your head against him only solidifies how grateful he is that you're here, that he didn’t lose you.

He almost blew it, and yet here you are, forgiving him, giving him another chance. It's moments like this that make him certain—you’re the right person for him. Everything feels just... right.

You interrupt the peaceful silence with a playful tone, "It's your turn now."

"My turn for what?" Chan asks, momentarily confused as he lifts his head to look at you.

"Your turn to host the pajama party," you say, reminding him of the promise he’d made.

For a second, he’d forgotten all about that. "Huh?" he blurts out before realizing what you mean.

"I'll bring the snacks," you offer, and Chan nods, still smiling.

"Okay," he agrees without hesitation.

But you quickly add, "No weird movies, please?"

He can’t help himself from teasing you. "I know this French porn movie where the man—"

"Don’t make me cancel it," you cut him off, shooting him a stern look.

Chan laughs, "Okay, no French porn movies. Noted."

A mischievous idea crosses his mind as he playfully grins. "It's my party, though. I can do whatever I want, right?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, clearly seeing through his intentions, but to his surprise, you don’t outright protest. "Well... yes."

His grin widens as countless thoughts—most of them lewd and not remotely innocent—flood his mind. You’ve given him too much freedom now, and with that playful look in his eyes, Chan’s already thinking of ways to push your buttons.

-

The pajama party is officially on, and Chan has everything set to perfection. The bed faces the TV, freshly made with new sheets, and a scented candle flickers nearby, filling the room with a light, romantic scent. He carefully curated a movie list that’ll support the atmosphere he’s trying to create—a mix of feel-good films with enough romantic tension to get you in the mood.

As for himself, he keeps it simple yet calculated—gray sweatpants, worn low enough on his hips to give you a glimpse of his pelvic bones, knowing full well how much you like that.

He checks the room once more, muttering to himself, "What else? What else?"

After a while, he spots something."The lights!" he says, darting toward the switch.

Setting the lights to a soft, dim glow, it ensures the perfect balance—just enough to see but low enough to encourage a little closeness.

Just as everything’s ready, you arrive, right on time. He’s been buzzing with excitement, but he tamps it down, making sure to keep his face casual as he opens the door slowly.

"I'm on an all-protein diet, but I can't say no to this snack," he teases, his eyes shamelessly traveling down your body. There’s a flicker of disappointment when he sees you in an oversized sweater, hiding your figure.

You hand him the bag of snacks with a smirk, "I hope you like grapes!"

He places the bag on the table, watching as you stroll into the room, eyes observing the cozy setup he’s prepared.

"I see that you did a little renovation." You comment with eyes narrowed.

"And I see that you're not dressed according to the dress code," he quips, pointing at your large, cozy sweater with a mock frown.

"Is it necessary though?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, already anticipating his answer.

"Yes," he insists, determined.

You sigh in playful defeat, tugging at the hem of your sweater and lifting it over your head, revealing a short, black slip dress underneath. It's silky, tight, and leaves just enough to the imagination—but not too much.

As you bend slightly to place the sweater on the sofa, Chan catches a glimpse of the lacey black underwear peeking out beneath the dress. His eyes widen for a second, and his pulse quickens. Suddenly, he wonders if maybe insisting on the dress code was too good of an idea. That slip dress, especially with the way it clings to you, is dangerous.

Oh, this is going to be fun, he thinks, trying to steady his breathing as he watches you settle in, completely unaware of the effect you’re having on him.

"Do you want me to prepare the snack or something?" you ask, snapping Chan out of his daze. He’s been standing there for what feels like a full minute, just staring at you.

He quickly averts his gaze, trying to shake off the image of your nipples lightly pressing through the silky fabric of your slip dress. It's too much of a distraction. "No, I'll do it. You can just..."

"I'll just get comfortable," you say with a teasing smile, turning away and heading toward the bed. His eyes can’t help but follow the way the hem of your slip rides up with each step, revealing more of your thighs than he's ready to handle.

He manages to gather his thoughts long enough to prepare the snacks. When he returns with the tray, he finds you nestled in the bed, already looking far too comfortable. A pillow is propped behind your back, your legs casually stacked and splayed across the bed, and the hem of your slip dress rides dangerously high, showing off even more skin.

You crawl over to the side of the bed, the neckline of your dress dipping low and giving him an accidental peek at your soft, unrestrained curves. You help him place the snacks on the bed, and his mind keeps wandering as he tries not to lose focus.

"So, what are we watching tonight?" you ask, clearly unaware of the war going on inside his head.

"I don't know," Chan blurts out without thinking, his mind still stuck on how your body moves so effortlessly in that dress.

Your brow furrows, and you pout in response to his non-answer.

"I mean, I've chosen a few, but I’ll let you make the final decision," he says, completely surrendering control of the night, which had not been part of his plan.

He places the tray of snacks in the empty space on the bed, and you pick up a chip, popping it into your mouth with a playful grin. He takes a seat next to you, keeping a safe distance—for now.

"Okay, now I’m curious about your choice of movies," you say as you crawl over him to reach for the remote.

The scent of your skin, the warmth of your body so close, it’s all so utterly distracting. His breath catches as you move over him, the proximity stirring something deeper inside.

"No porn," you say with a laugh, scrolling through his movie selections. "That’s a good start."

Chan grins, but the effect you have on him is overwhelming. He needs to cool down fast before his mind strays too far. Thinking quickly, he suggests an action movie, something that could help him focus on anything other than you.

You agree without hesitation and settle back against the pillows as the movie starts, the room dimly lit, and the night now filled with a tension that neither of you can completely ignore.

"So, the father no longer lives with his daughter?" you ask, eyes glued to the screen while Chan’s attention remains fixed on your body.

"Uh-huh, yeah," he mumbles, clearly distracted.

"I don't like the stepfather," you comment about the movie, unaware of how little Chan is actually paying attention.

You turn your head to him, catching him in the act of staring. You pretend not to notice, reaching casually for a grape from the bowl he's holding. But as you bring it to your mouth, it slips from your fingers, rolling down Chan’s bare stomach and stopping right at the waistband of his sweatpants.

Without hesitation, you innocently reach for the grape, your hand brushing dangerously close to where he’s most sensitive. The moment is fleeting, but it lingers for Chan. He feels the heat rise in his chest as your fingers pull the grape free and pop it into your mouth as if nothing happened.

For a second, he’s frozen, his breath catching as the proximity of your touch leaves him wanting more. His carefully crafted plans for tonight? They seem to be backfiring, with you unintentionally driving him wild.

-

Chan may think all your actions were innocent accidents, but little does he know every move was calculated. You've been noticing his wandering gaze, the way he keeps getting distracted by you rather than the movie. His bare torso, though distracting, only adds fuel to your own plans.

When the first movie ends, you decide it’s time to build a little anticipation. You scoot to the edge of the bed, casually announcing, "Bathroom break."

You linger in the bathroom longer than necessary, letting the tension grow. When you return, Chan has cleared the tray and is fluffing your pillow—a sight that makes you grin inwardly. He’s already under your control.

"Can we watch a romcom next?" you ask as you climb back onto the bed, this time settling even closer to him.

"Sure," Chan agrees without hesitation, confirming that you've got him wrapped around your finger.

The second movie begins, and a few minutes in, you fake a yawn, casually resting your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t move at first, but eventually, his arm slips around you, his hand gently rubbing your arm. You smile softly, knowing you’ve set the perfect stage.

You lower your voice and whisper, "She’s beautiful, don’t you think?" referring to the actress on screen.

"Yes, she is," Chan replies quickly, too quickly.

You chuckle, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "I thought you'd say something like, 'but you're more beautiful,'" you tease.

That comment finally breaks his concentration on the movie. He looks at you, eyes locking with yours. The tension between you simmers, everything falling into place.

"You are more beautiful," he says, catching you off guard with how sincere he sounds.

You gently hold his chin, making sure his gaze stays on you. "Yeah?"

"Yes," his voice is low, thick with desire.

"Thank you," you sweetly murmur, leaning in to plant a soft, lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth. It's a tease, just enough to leave him wanting more.

Chan is clearly struggling to hold on, but you're determined to push him further. You move swiftly, pulling one of his legs aside and slipping between them to sit.

The sheer panic in his voice when he asks, "What are you doing?" is impossible to miss.

“I want to sit here so we can cuddle,” you reply, playing the innocent card. You settle yourself against his chest, making sure to let out a low, sultry hum as you lean back into him.

He remains tense for a moment, but you feel him give in, his hands slowly trailing down your sides. His fingers gently squeeze your waist, and then his arm wraps around you, pulling you in close. His lips find your skin, starting with soft kisses on the top of your head, then trailing down the side of your face and to your bare shoulder. Each kiss becomes more ragged, more desperate, and you can feel the weight of his breath against your skin.

Finally, he turns your head, and the intensity in his eyes says it all—he’s done resisting. His lips crash into yours, the kiss raw, hungry, filled with more than just lust. It’s deep, hard, and leaves you breathless. You're barely keeping up as he kisses you with an urgency that feels like he’s been waiting for this forever.

“How can I walk away from this?” he asks, his voice heavy with emotion, his forehead resting against yours.

You smile, your lips barely grazing his as you reply, "You don’t, because it's your party, and you can do what you want."

That’s all it takes. Something inside him snaps. Chan gives in entirely, kissing you more feverishly, his hands roaming your body, touching you everywhere at once. You feel his fingers tug at the hem of your slip dress, and you lift your body slightly, allowing him to pull it off. The fabric falls away, leaving nothing between his hands and your skin.

“You’re so soft it's ridiculous,” he murmurs in awe, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You watch as his hands trail down your arms, over your shoulders, down your sides, claiming every inch of you. He traces the lines of your body like he’s memorizing them, his breath hot against your neck as he leaves searing kisses along the way.

“Everywhere my hand slides, you fit me,” he whispers, showing you just how well with every touch—from your throat to your breasts, your hips, and down. His mouth follows his hands, kissing, tasting, marking you.

You let out a quiet whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. “Please let me touch you too,” you manage to whisper.

Chan doesn’t hesitate. He flips you over so that you’re straddling him, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your every move. You waste no time, leaning in to kiss his neck, trailing your hands down his broad shoulders. Your fingers explore the firm muscles of his chest, and your lips follow, savoring the feel of his skin against yours.

You pause, admiring his sculpted abs, running your hands over them. "How do you even look like this?" you ask, awestruck.

Chan grins shyly, clearly not used to the compliments. “I don���t have anything better to do than go to the gym.”

“You do now,” you tease, tugging at him playfully.

Before he can react, you pull him down with you, both of you collapsing onto the bed together, laughing as the tension between you grows thicker.

In the dim light of the TV, Chan’s body hovers over yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he props himself on one elbow. You can feel the tension in the air, the weight of everything unsaid building between you. His eyes are locked onto yours, and you respond by slipping your hand down into his sweatpants, wrapping your fingers around him.

The way he groans, half-broken, sends a shiver down your spine. His hardness pulses under your touch, and each breath he takes sounds more ragged than the last. It’s intoxicating, knowing how undone he is because of you. Every stroke of your hand, every gentle squeeze makes him unravel a little more, and for a fleeting moment, you realize just how much power you have over him.

But before you can dwell on it, you feel his mouth. It takes you a second to pinpoint where, but then you feel it—hot and hungry, kissing your abdomen. His lips trail down, kissing along the curve of your stomach, his breath hot against your skin. The tension coils tighter inside you with each kiss.

With a playful grin, Chan grips the elastic band of your underwear between his teeth. The memory of last time flashes in your mind, and you can’t help but laugh at the familiar sight.

"Someone better not interrupt me again," he mutters between clenched teeth, determination and amusement laced in his voice as he tugs at the fabric.

The laughter bubbles out of you, half from the tickling sensation of his chin grazing your skin, half from the irony. But soon enough, the underwear slips away, and your laughter turns into a breathy sigh.

Chan wastes no time, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. You can barely catch the words he murmurs between kisses, your focus completely stolen by the feel of his lips and tongue, his warm breath ghosting over your skin.

It’s too much, and not enough all at once.

Your legs part instinctively, and you know exactly what’s coming next. Anticipation swirls inside you, tightening in your core as Chan’s mouth ventures dangerously close to where you need him most.

The first contact of Chan’s mouth on your wetness is deliberate—a slow, teasing swirl that feels like the soft lick you’d give to the top of a melting ice cream cone. The sudden sensation draws a sharp gasp from your lips, and you almost snort from the intensity of it. He rewards you with a soft kiss on your inner thigh, as if pleased with himself.

The second contact is a gentle kiss, a reminder of the first kiss you shared. It’s pure, almost chaste, without any tongue, yet it holds a promise of what’s to come. As you stare up at the dark ceiling, a single thought pulses through your mind—you deeply wish that his kisses were meant for no one else but you.

Then comes the third, another kiss that slowly progressing from pure and innocent to something much dirtier. His lips linger and press deeper, his tongue tracing lines that send electric shocks through your entire body.

Chan takes his time, savoring every second, and with each passing minute, your body alternates between moments of tension and relaxation, yielding completely to him.

All of a sudden, he lifts his head, groaning in frustration. "I can’t handle it..." His voice is rough, desperate. He rests the side of his head on your thigh, his fingers lightly circling your clit as he breathes out, "I need more. Please."

His words are strained, raw with need. He’s hanging on by a thread, teetering on the edge, and you know that if you don’t give him what he wants soon, he might just break. You slide your hand through his curls, tugging lightly to bring his gaze back to yours.

“More?” you ask, voice low, teasing, though his desperation makes your heart race.

"Way, way more," he whispers, the hunger in his voice unmistakable.

You smile softly, the pet name slipping out so naturally it surprises you. "Okay, baby."

At that, Chan hurriedly kneels, shedding his sweatpants in a rush, and when his erection springs free, it’s impossible not to stare. The sheer size of him, the desire etched across his face, it’s all aimed at you, and the heat between you intensifies.

He positions himself above you, taking your hands and tangling them with his own, pinning them above your head. "Finally..." he breathes, his voice thick with excitement and relief, almost bordering on ecstasy.

Despite the waiting, the teasing, you realize you were just as desperate as he was for this moment, "Finally..." you repeat.

As he pushes his hard length into you, he does it slowly, savoring every inch as your body adjusts to him. He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can hear every sound that escapes his lips—soft gasps, sighs of pleasure, as if he’s trying to survive this moment and let it consume him all at once.

Fully sheathed inside you, he flexes his hips, and your eyes flutter shut. The sensation of him filling you, hot and hard, is overwhelming. It’s perfect.

"God, I was so right," he groans, his voice filled with awe. "You fit me perfectly"

Chan kneels again, his muscles contracting, his skin flushed red from the intensity. The view of him above you—his sculpted chest and arms—is breathtaking. He starts moving, each thrust measured, controlled. You can feel the pressure building inside you, and something similar to panic grips your chest, a raw intensity that threatens to overwhelm you.

“Talk to me,” Chan murmurs, leaning down to place a quick kiss on your lips.

You smile weakly, your eyes half-closed as you try to keep yourself together. "This is... this is nice," you mumble, barely coherent as your mind reels from the pleasure.

He looks almost offended, his brow furrowing as if the word "nice" is beneath him. "Nice, huh?" he repeats, voice low and teasing.

Before you can respond, his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you just enough to create a new angle. The depth he reaches now makes your breath hitch, and any attempt at keeping a coherent thought vanishes as he thrusts harder.

"Nice is good..." you start to say, but the words are swallowed by a moan as his pace increases, hitting just the right spot with every thrust. Your eyes roll back, and he grins at the reaction he pulls from you.

“I don’t do... nice,” Chan says with a smirk, leaning down as his movements grow faster, deeper, shaking the bed with every thrust.

You let out a sob, the sensation too much, and your body tightens around him, trembling as the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter. It’s a battle to hold on, but there’s no escaping what’s coming.

Chan hovers lower, his face close to yours as he studies every expression, his hips moving with precision. "Is it still nice?" he growls, his voice hoarse.

You can’t answer, not with the way he’s pushing you right to the edge. Your breath hitches, and just as you open your mouth to say something, a desperate cry escapes as your body finally gives in, releasing all the tension in a wave of pure ecstasy. You cling to the sheets, legs shaking, your voice echoing in the room as Chan continues to drive into you.

Moments later, you feel Chan reach his own peak, his body shuddering against yours as he releases with a deep, guttural groan, collapsing onto you, exhausted and trembling from the intensity of it all.

Once he's come to his senses, he lets out a shy laugh, his cheeks flushed. He’s so different from the brash, confident man you expected him to be—soft and vulnerable in ways you didn’t anticipate. You gently stroke his cheek, feeling a surge of affection for this man you’re getting to know in a completely new way.

"We’re going to miss the end of the movie," you tease, glancing at the TV still flickering in the background.

Chan laughs, his voice rich and warm. "I think we finished just in time."

-

Every time Chan wakes up in the morning, he no longer wonders where he is. He’s right where he belongs, lying next to you.

On weekdays, you live your separate lives, each sleeping in your own beds. But on weekends, you’re his, and he makes the most of it. It’s not just about sex—though there’s plenty of that. Your nights are filled with movies, video games, long dinners, and endless cuddling that eventually leads to even more sex.

Once, he warned you that it would take him days, weeks, maybe even years to get enough of you.

As expected, your alarm rings just as Chan is about to pull you closer, his arms instinctively reaching for you. With a quick motion, he grabs your phone, turns off the alarm, and shoves it under his pillow, refusing to let you go.

“Work,” you murmur, still half-asleep, rubbing your eyes as you reach for your phone.

“You know what time it is,” he teases, pulling you on top of him with ease.

Chan brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears so he can plant soft kisses all over your face. When his lips finally reach yours, his hand glides down your spine, resting on your rear before slipping his fingers under your underwear, teasing you through the fabric.

"Chris..." you mewl, your voice a mix of protest and desire.

“It’s either we do it here or in the shower,” he says, voice thick with need. He doesn’t care about the setting—he just knows he needs you to start his day right.

“As long as you’re doing all the work,” you reply, half teasing, half serious.

His eyes widen in disbelief. "Since when do you ever—"

You cut him off with a kiss, your lips pressing firmly against his. "Are we doing this or not?"

No matter how much you protest, Chan always gets what he wants. And he knows you secretly love catering to his desires, just as much as he loves pleasing you.

Your lips move together again as he pulls his cock out of his boxers, positioning himself. You lean forward, lowering yourself onto him slowly, feeling him fill you inch by inch. His hands rest on your hips as you stay on all fours, your back arching beautifully while he thrusts into you from below.

You glance down, watching his cock move in and out of you, and let out a playful giggle. “How do you have so much energy in the morning?” you ask, a little amazed.

He grins up at you, his hips never stopping their rhythm. Honestly, just looking at you is all he needs to feel alive in the morning. Your moans, your smile, the way you move—it all drives him wild.

“That feels so good, baby,” you purr, leaning down to kiss him deeply.

Chan’s mind wanders for a brief second, wondering how he got so lucky. There was a time when he feared you might think this was only physical, that he mistook lust for something deeper. But now, he knows it’s not just his body that craves you—his heart does too.

“What are you thinking, mmh?” you ask, your nose brushing against his.

"Nothing," he murmurs, looking at you with the softest expression. "I’m just so happy."

You smile at him, pressing another kiss to his lips, and he holds you close, your bodies fitting perfectly together as he continues to move, his hips rocking into yours until both of you are lost in the sensation.

When you finally reach your peak, he follows, planting his seed deep inside you to complete what’s now become his favorite morning ritual.

As you get dressed, Chan stays in bed, a satisfied grin plastered across his face. He watches you with lazy, contented eyes, still basking in the afterglow.

"I’ll cook dinner tonight," he says, hands propped behind his head, already thinking of the next time he’ll see you.

"Okay," you reply casually, slipping your sweater over your head.

"It would be easier if you gave me your spare keys," he says, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the underlying hope in his voice. "So I can cook at your place."

You pause for a moment, a coy smile creeping across your face. "You want the spare keys to my place?"

"Yes," he replies eagerly, sitting up a little straighter, hope flaring in his chest.

"Well..." You walk toward the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder. "You’ll have to earn it first."

As you leave his apartment and head across the hallway to your own, Chan lies back on the bed, his grin widening. It seems he has a new quest: earning the spare keys to your place.

And knowing Chan, he’ll do whatever it takes to get them.

-

Chan knows your morning routine by heart. He lingers in bed for a moment after you leave, his mind wandering back to the last time you were together. Whether it was this morning or the night before, the memories of your body against his make him smile lazily.

Eventually, he gets up, washes up, and grabs a quick breakfast before heading out of the apartment to send you off to work.

As he steps out of his door, he sees a sight that surprises him: you're helping someone unload boxes from the elevator. Without thinking, he rushes over to help, noticing that there are still several boxes left inside.

“You should be on your way to work,” Chan says, more concerned about your punctuality than anything else.

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get into the stuffed elevator,” you reply with a shrug, clearly unbothered by the time.

Just then, someone else steps out of the elevator, carrying the last box. “You can use it now,” he says, smiling.

You turn to Chan and introduce him, “This is Minho. He’s our new neighbor.”

Then you turn to Minho and gesture to Chan, “And this is Chris, the other neighbor.”

Chan feels a pang of disappointment. Just the "other neighbor"? He swallows it down, deciding to let it go for now.

Minho puts the box down and extends his hand to Chan. “Minho,” he says with a friendly grin.

“Chris,” Chan replies, shaking his hand. As their hands clasp, Chan gets a quick read on him. He knows the type—game recognizes game—but for now, he decides to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’d better get going,” you say as Minho holds the elevator door open for you.

“Yes, please, I’d be devastated if you were late to work,” Minho says with a smile that seems just a little too smooth.

You laugh softly, waving it off. “It’s fine. No worries.”

That laugh—the ease of your interaction—it’s all too friendly for someone you’ve just met. It takes Chan back a little, knowing how long it took for you to warm up to him. Still, he lets it slide again.

As you move to leave, Chan pulls you close, intending to kiss you goodbye, but at the last second, you turn your head, and the kiss lands awkwardly on your jaw.

“Bye,” you say softly before stepping into the elevator.

“Have a great day at work, neighbor!” Chan calls after you, trying to play it off with a wave as the doors close.

Left standing in the hallway with Minho, Chan notices the pile of boxes still waiting to be moved into the new neighbor’s apartment. He offers to help, not feeling right about leaving the guy to handle it all alone.

After placing the last box inside, Minho hands Chan a can of soda as thanks. They sit for a moment, taking a breather from the unexpected workout.

“I must say,” Minho says suddenly, cracking open his can, “that was hard to watch.”

Chan’s brows knit together in confusion. “Sorry?”

“You and that pretty neighbor of yours,” Minho continues, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

Chan straightens up, his grip tightening on the can. “What are you trying to say?”

Minho lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I can see you like her, but her… I don’t think she likes you back.”

Chan feels the jab, but he doesn’t let it show. He knew there was something off about Minho from the start.

“She introduced you as her mere neighbor,” Minho adds, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “And that kiss dodge? Ouch.”

Chan tries not to take the bait, but it’s impossible not to feel a little stung by the comment. Pissed, actually.

“How long have you been chasing after that cute neighbor?” Minho presses, his chuckle laced with condescension. He doesn’t even give Chan a chance to defend himself.

“Hey, you can mess with me all you want, but not with her,” Chan warns, his voice low, a dark edge creeping in.

Minho only snorts, crushing the empty soda can in his hand before tossing it casually into the trash. “And here I thought you were just like me.”

Chan tenses as Minho steps closer, eyes narrowing with a fierce smile. “I could have that girl in a week,” he declares boldly.

Chan’s jaw clenches. “I told you not to mess with her.”

Minho shrugs, completely unfazed. “Just watch me.”

And with that, it’s clear: there’s a new fuckboy in the area, and Chan’s got more than a little competition.

-

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[fanfictionismyaddiction]

hii I don’t know if you are doing requests but if you are could you please do one with toto Wolff x wife reader where she’s just given birth and her in-laws make fun of her or give her mean comments and she gets all upset but doesn’t tell toto to keep the family peace but he finds out and gets a tad upset at her for hiding it but he rips his family a new one please please!!

Unconditional Support

Word Count: 999

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

Summary: Y/n shares her vulnerability after giving birth, revealing the hurtful comments from Toto's family that make her question her worth, prompting Toto to confront them with fierce protectiveness

I don't speak Polish so if something isn't right pleas let me know so i can change it.

Also my requests are still open

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Toto stood at the window, the hospital room filled with a serene quiet. You rocked the baby gently in your arms, trying to focus on the peaceful moment, but your mind kept drifting back to the things his family had said. Every comment felt like a dagger, cutting deeper than you’d let yourself admit. You’d spent so much time second-guessing your own reactions, wondering if you were being too sensitive—just like your ex-friends and ex-boyfriend had always claimed.

But this felt different. You had just given birth. You were vulnerable, exposed, and instead of support, all you got was veiled judgment.

Toto turned around, sensing your unease. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You’re not yourself."

You tried to smile, to push it down, but the weight of it all was pressing on you too hard. "I don’t know," you whispered. "I don’t want to make it a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe I’m just being sensitive."

Toto frowned, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. "Sensitive about what?"

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But the memory of Eva’s voice, sharp and critical, wouldn’t leave your mind.

"Your mom…" you started slowly, "she said, *‘Ach, du siehst müde aus’* (Oh, you look tired), and I know I *am* tired, but the way she said it—it wasn’t just concern. It was like I was already failing somehow. Like I should be doing more, looking better. I’ve just had a baby, and instead of asking how I feel, she’s telling me I look bad."

Toto’s jaw clenched, but you continued, the words pouring out now.

"And then Katharina, she didn’t even say congratulations before she looked me up and down and said, *‘You’ll want to lose the baby weight quickly, right? There’s a Pilates instructor in Vienna…’* I know I’ve gained weight—of course I have, I just carried a child—but she made me feel like it’s a race to get rid of it. Like my worth is tied to how fast I look ‘normal’ again."

Your voice wavered, but you pushed on. "And Margit—she took the baby right out of my hands and said, *‘Das ist nicht richtig. Soll ich es dir zeigen?’* (That’s not right. Should I show you?) I was trying my best, and she acted like I didn’t even know how to hold my own baby. I already feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and she just made me feel… useless."

Toto stood up, his face dark with anger. He started pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Why did you let them say those things to you?"

"I didn’t want to cause problems," you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "I thought… maybe I was just seeing it wrong, like I always do. Maybe I was interpreting everything too negatively again. But the more I think about it, the more I realize… it wasn’t okay. They made me feel small. Like I wasn’t good enough."

Toto stopped pacing, his expression hardening. "You were right. They were out of line. I’m not letting this slide."

Before you could stop him, he grabbed his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he found his mother’s number.

"Toto, wait," you pleaded, "don’t make this worse—"

But his face was set, determined. He brought the phone to his ear, speaking in rapid Polish as soon as his mother picked up. "Mamo, musimy porozmawiać." (Mom, we need to talk.)

You could hear the faint sound of his mother’s voice on the other end, but Toto’s expression didn’t soften.

"Nie, nie później. Teraz." (No, not later. Now.)

He glanced at you, his eyes blazing with a protective fury. "Dlaczego mówili takie rzeczy do Y/n?" (Why did they say those things to Y/n?) His voice was cold, demanding answers.

You watched, feeling torn between relief and anxiety as Toto continued to tear into his mother over the phone. You couldn’t understand everything, but the tone was unmistakable—he was furious, and he wasn’t going to let this slide. He paced back and forth, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke in quick bursts of Polish, likely recounting every hurtful comment you had shared with him.

After a few moments, his voice softened slightly, but his anger was still clear. "Nie obchodzi mnie, czy miały dobre intencje. Nie pozwolę, żeby tak traktowali moją żonę." (I don’t care if they meant well. I won’t let them treat my wife like that.)

He paused, listening to his mother’s response, before he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "To musi się skończyć. Teraz." (This has to stop. Now.)

He hung up the phone, his face still tense, and turned back to you. "I’ve told them," he said, his voice softer now but still firm. "They won’t be speaking to you like that again."

You looked down, guilt flooding through you. "I didn’t mean for this to turn into a big thing…"

Toto knelt beside the bed, taking your hand in his. "It’s not your fault. They were out of line, and you deserve better. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just didn’t want to cause problems. I was so scared I was overreacting."

Toto cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You’re not overreacting. You’re not being too sensitive. You’re my wife, the mother of our child, and no one gets to make you feel less than the incredible woman you are. Not even my family."

You let out a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of their comments lift just a little. You had doubted yourself, but Toto was making sure you’d never have to doubt him.

[annaandmiah]

ED MEDIA

MOVIES

★ little miss perfect ★

an overambitious high school freshman tries to control her life by controlling her weight.

➜ watch on soap2day

★ starving in suburbia ★

17-year-old Hannah joins a dangerous “thinspiration” online community where users treat anorexia as a lifestyle rather than a disorder.

➜ Watch on Vimeo

★ sharing the secret ★

beth turns to binging and purging as a way to control one aspect of her life, but her habits quickly spiral out of control and force her to seek treatment.

➜ Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/hmujb3ndoo0

★ for the love of nancy★

follows the main character as she starts college, becomes more and more withdrawn, starts a regimented exercise routine, stops eating, and begins losing an unhealthy amount of weight.

➜ Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/cgvxvq33swy

★ a secret between friends ★

when two teenage girls become fast friends and decide to diet together, things go from bad to worse, ultimately leading to the near death of one of the girls.

➜ Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/vmf4cd1fxge

★ dying to dance ★

➜ a young woman succumbs to pressure at ballet school and develops anorexia nervosa.

➜ Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/hi5ww4z-rx8

★ girl, interrupted★

based on writer susanna kaysen's account of her 18-month stay at a mental hospital in the late 1960s.

➜ Watch on Netflix

★ Kate's secret ★

a beautiful woman married to a successful lawyer and the perfect suburban mother who turns out to be a closeted bulimic.

➜ Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/zpchtd3xw4q

★ the best little girl in the world ★

a young girl develops an eating disorder, alternately starving herself or throwing up food. her parents, angry and desperate, send her to a hospital. unfortunately, she befriends a patient who convinces her to hide her illness.

➜ Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/oy7gj99pt_a

★ thirteen ★

an innocent seventh grader undergoes an abrupt personality change when she begins hanging out with a wild classmate

➜ Watch on Disney Plus

★ to the bone ★

ellen is an unruly 20-year-old anorexic girl who spent the better part of her teenage years being shepherded through various recovery programmes, only to find herself several pounds lighter every time.

➜ Watch on Netflix

TV SHOWS

★ Skins ★

 lives of a group of teenagers in Bristol, England, are followed through two years of sixth form, with the story line of this critically acclaimed series delving into such controversial subjects as substance abuse, sexuality, teenage pregnancy, personality and eating disorders, and mental illness

➜ Watch on Stan

★ Red band society ★

 a group of teenagers live together as patients at a hospital's pediatric ward and learn how to deal with their illnesses, the experiences that they have, and the people that they meet.

➜ Watch on Disney Plus

★ Insatiable ★

For years Patty was overweight, which caused her to be bullied, ignored and underestimated by the people around her. But she is now thin and seeking revenge against those who ever made her feel bad about herself through fat-shaming.

➜ Watch on Netflix

DOCUMENTRYS

★ Thin ★

this documentary follows four women receiving eating disorder treatment at the renfrew center in coconut creek, florida. while each woman has their own “final straw” that brought them to renfrew, they all suffer from eating disorders that profoundly affect their lives to the point of near-death, in some cases.

➜ Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/gsqwhmesizq

★ Dana the 8-year-old anorexic ★

Little Dana became a walking skeleton after suffering from anorexia - at EIGHT. She told her distraught parents she would rather DIE than eat. And she even hid in a laundry basket at meal times to avoid having food.

➜ Watch on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKSwPBUhCBo&list=PLfjwnsEd5VNYTtPpke17nY2AHRNNpcWIK&index=3

[starkeyisthelastname]

Rafe w plus-sized/chubby reader, pretty pleeeease??

“Them stretch marks im nuttin all over.”

You read the text message over and over again. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you sat down on the edge of your bed. The way the heat was rushing to your core in such a fast manner, had you concerned. No man had ever made you feel this way especially a man this gorgeous. His name was Rafe and you had met him on Tinder of all places.

You had been in so many failed relationships that you were done trying, but of course there was only so long you could go with just using your rose toy. And while that little thing was amazing, you did miss the feeling of sex. Signing up for Tinder, you promised yourself that you were not looking for a relationship and merely only wanted to see if you could find a potential friends with benefits. You had never had one, always falling into these too quickly.

You weren’t exactly confident, your weight always getting in the way. Something you had struggled with as long as you could remember. You had a tummy, rolls, stretch marks, your face always being too round. You hated the fact men turned you away when asking for a picture of your body.

Rafe was muscular with light tan skin and gorgeous blue eyes. His profile read that he was 6’2, he worked at his dad’s business and he was looking for something causal. You thought you had nothing to lose and swiped right on his profile, not thinking anything of it. You were sure he wouldn’t give you the time of day.

You had just gotten out of the shower when you saw the notification.

You matched with Rafe!

Rafe sent you a message

Matched? You were in shock as you opened up the message hoping it wouldn’t scare him off that you were messaging him back so quickly. The two of you started off casual, making small conversation to learn a little about one another even exchanging numbers. It then led to being flirtatious, him causing your pussy to feel butterflies. He asked what you liked in bed, your turn ons, what made you feel good. When he asked for a picture of your body, you immediately got anxious. Normally you’d block the guy no matter how hot they were.

Sending him a full body picture of you and explaining that you had stretch marks, and cellulite and weren’t skinny by any means. You sat on the edge of your bed nervously. It took him a minute to reply, making you wonder if he got grossed out. But as soon as that text message came in, your eyes widened. Reading it over and over, you didn’t know how to reply.

Your phone dinged again, this time with an address. Was this really going to happen? As nervous as you were, you found yourself typing back a response.

“You want me to come over?” You bit your lip, waiting for a response. The typing bubbles appeared, only to disappear a few seconds after. Your phone buzzed in your hand, a video now having been sent from his end. You took a deep breath, clicking the play button where it turned to full screen. Your eyes widened as the camera focused on his grey sweatpants, the clear outline of a huge dick now in the frame. You instantly felt the ache run straight to your core, wanting to see more of it.

“What do you think? Let me put this in you, pretty girl.” The message below the video said.

You rang the doorbell, nervously rocking on your heels as you waited. This wasn't the best idea you had ever had. He could be a crazy person for all you knew. The house was rather dark and you didn't see much movement. You pulled out your phone to start to text him when you heard the sound of a door being opened.

You looked up to see him standing there. He was tall, his profile height being right. His eyes were the bluest shade you had ever seen, staring at you with the sexiest smirk. He was shirtless, toned abs making your mouth water as you couldn't help but glance at him.

“Hi.” You squeaked nervously.

“Hey.” His voice deep, making you want to cum right then and there. You swallowed the lump in your throat, stepping in the house as he opened the door wider. You looked around, the house neat with neutral colors. He cleared his throat, walking past you towards the living room. “Let me turn this off real quick and we will go upstairs.” He said, grabbing the remote and turning the tv off.

He led you up the stairs and down the hall to what you presumed to be his bedroom. It was surprisingly clean, and smelled of cedar and his cologne. He shut the door, walking past you to sit on the edge of the bed. You sat your purse down on the end of the dresser, hands folding in front of you in nerves.

“Come here.” He rasped out, eyes raking over you as you stepped closer to him. He roughly grabbed your hips to pull you between his legs, hand running down to grip your ass. “Don’t be shy with me. Alright? You’re fucking beautiful.” He said.

You had never felt or seen a dick so big. Your head hung down, flushed cheek pressed into the mattress as Rafe pounded you from behind. This position was almost too much for you, making you grab the sheets to almost pull away.

“Where you going, huh? Don’t start fucking runnin from me.” His voice about the sexiest thing you had ever heard. You felt his large hand come to your head, yanking your hair back in a tight fist. You let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back as he forced you to look up at him.

“Open your fucking mouth.” Rafe spat, gripping your jaw to force apart. You did exactly as you were told, not having much of a choice as he spit directly onto your tongue. You felt completely degraded, exactly one of your kinks you told him you had. He was not playing around with you, and the chokehold this man had you on was crazy.

He chuckled, leaning down to capture your tongue with his in a messy kiss, your poor cunt being drilled by his massive length at a constant pace. You whined against his mouth, pussy clenching around his cock as you already began to squirt against him and the sheets below.

“Shit.. you like ruining my sheets and shit?” His voice hoarse, reaching down to slap your thick ass cheek roughly.

All you could do was nod, head pounding from the still tight grip on your hair. You had completely came undone in just a short amount of time. The insecurities you had felt before had disappeared for the time being, Rafe worshipping your curves by fucking you exactly how you had wanted.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Longtime reader and fan (thank you for existing and sharing your writing!) first time asker, prompted by watching the movie The Martian: what if the team went on a mission out in space, during the war or after, and accidentally left someone behind on a planet? I can't decide who it would be worse for it to happen to, and whether being able to morph would really be helpful. Maybe it's a funny no-big when you have alien space travel, I suppose

Ooh, I think it all depends on who got left behind.

Ax: We know from canon that he can get by while stranded on an alien planet without either dying or losing his mind. That said, Ax also desperately needs company and doesn't do well alone. When he's stuck in the Dome ship, he gets to the point of hallucinations and memory problems from the isolation (MM4). So Ax would probably figure out how to get a potato farm or other food supply going — he's very good at cobbling together solutions from limited technology — and he would be able to fix things that went wrong for a time.

But Ax better find that Rover and get it talking to an Earth satellite as fast as he can, if he's the one stranded. And he hopefully wouldn't make a mistake that results in it frying. If he does, then Ax would have the greatest risk of just losing the plot. That could mean falling into a depression so bad he stops maintaining his food supply, becoming so anxious he can't do EVAs anymore, developing psychosis and losing track of reality, or any number of other ways that his brain could start eating itself. But if he does end up with any kind of major overwhelming stressor, then he's probably screwed. It's not like there's a way to do therapy through a 2-message-an-hour Rover running on Morse code, and I doubt(?) NASA would've sent antidepressants in their limited weight supply.

Jake: Would go the same way as Ax, but a lot faster. He wouldn't consider himself worth risking others' lives to rescue, he wouldn't have the necessary mental flexibility to engineer himself a long-term survival solution, and he wouldn't be able to remain sane with no one to talk to. I don't think he'd actually die by suicide. I think he'd just curl up in bed and eat 3x a day until he ran out of MREs, and then gradually slip away.

Marco: Easily the best equipped to survive over a year alone on Mars. Name puns aside, he's the most Mark Watney-ish of the Animorphs. He can laugh as he's crying, he can entertain himself, he can think through problems quickly, and he can charm the media of planet Earth enough to convince NASA to mount a rescue expedition.

Marco would start talking to himself the moment he wakes up alone, and he wouldn't stop talking until he was finally back on the spaceship. He'd try so hard to be cool and tough in the logs, insisting on not really being scared, not really being hungry or in pain, until you could almost believe him. If something breaks, Marco will take it apart and fix it. If he risks dying in the process of fixing the broken water purifier or oxygen system, then he's going to run straight at it with manic determination to make his death at least entertaining for the folks at home.

Of course, Marco might also be the most upsetting one for the other Animorphs to realize they've left behind. Rather than trying to make the others feel better about having made an honest mistake in the process of trying to save their own lives, he'd be making jokes about how he was five minutes late for the school bus and yet they still left him on the field trip, or he knew that Jake found him annoying but never realized he was that annoying. Which would only make the whole team feel way worse about the fact that they left him for dead and nearly let him die for real.

Cassie: Would do all the science she could, with the opportunity she'd been given. She would carefully log the rock samples she found, take extensive notes on her processes, and use up every single sample container and scrap of disc space she had left on her observations. Then she'd go out somewhere beautiful, eat one last MRE and watch one last Earthrise, and take off her helmet.

Tobias: Probably second-best equipped psychologically to spend all that time in survival mode. Like Ax, Tobias is prone to mental illness and so risks not being able to keep going through all the relentless misery and stress, but Tobias is also a solitary creature at heart. And Tobias isn't afraid to do what it takes to survive, as long as he's not hurting anyone else in the process. So he wouldn't make contacting Earth a priority (except to make it clear that he needs rescue) and he would be okay with a tiny trickle of communication with his fellow humans that eventually gets cut off.

However, Tobias is also a lot more... rigid in planning, I guess? He doesn't have Ax's or Marco's "try anything" attitude. He makes rules for himself, and then he follows them, even to the point of risking death. He tends to obsess over taking the right course of action no matter what, and spends a ton of time considering what right would be in any given situation. Like, he's got more functional fixedness than Marco or Cassie, which could be bad if his only option for survival is to make a sock and a paperback book cover into a makeshift CO2 filter. So I think Tobias would handle the isolation best of anyone on the team, but risks not handling the 40,000 random engineering problems that come from using a tent meant for 6 people over 2 weeks as a home for 18 months.

Tobias would also be extremely upsetting for the other Animorphs to have left behind. His role on the team is classic break the cutie, where anything bad happening to him is utterly devastating for all his friends in a way it wouldn't be to have Rachel or Jake suffer a similar fate. If there's anyone that the team would risk cannibalism and death to return to Mars for, it's him.

Rachel: It's hard to say if impulsivity is more of a bonus or a drawback here. Rachel has never taken anything lying down in her life, ever, and she'd be offended by the idea of some stupid dusty planet getting the better of her. She would fight with every iota of her being to survive, fighting airlock failure and potato rot and oxygen leaks and water system clogs.

But. Impulsivity. If that means she tries anything, tries everything, until a solution works, then excellent. If that means she gets fed up with the process of survival, less good. If that means she says screw it and eats when she's hungry, doubleplusungood.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

I squat between your spread legs as you push. Your huge, bare belly tenses around your womb with every effort you make to birth the head of our baby.

The cool mountain air and smell of spring leaves might have been calming if this was at all intended. We came up here to get labor Kickstarted, not to have the baby for God's sake. I should've turned us around when you started clutching your belly. I should've turned back when I realized there was no way your cargo pants were damp from sweat. But what could I really have done? We've had several false labors so far, you're stubborn as hell, and this labor progressed faster than either of us were told. Not even one damn hour and you're already crowning.

Your back arches suddenly, the head surges forward with a gush of fluid into my waiting hands. Your effort sends the shoulders and the rest of the big body into my hands. In less than a few moments they begin to cry loudly.

I can hardly allow myself to feel elated. We're in the middle of the wilderness with a newborn, you exhausted and no cell service. It takes all of me not to lose it at this moment.

I just need to get down the ranger cabin to get help. Despite your protest, I hand you our baby and lift you to your feet. I support your weight as best I can. You hold our new baby with one hand and rest your other arm around my shoulder. The walk is longer than it was coming up and the afterbirth is taking way too long to come out in comparison to how fast your labor was.

"It hurts..." You mumble and I try to pick up the pace.

We finally make it to the ranger cabin and your loud groans are more than enough to make the ranger investigate.

"My wife just had our baby, the afterbirth is stuck or something please help!" I yell.

The mountain ranger nods and runs to our aid. Your moaning even louder now and your knees begin to give. The mountain ranger rushes to help me usher you and our newborn into the cabin. We lead you to a couch and you immediately plop down with your legs spread.

The ranger aids our baby first, then he examines you. His face goes rigid as he palms the still swollen skin of your belly.

The mountain ranger turns his gaze to us and then looks again at your still large belly. "You sure yall were only having one baby?"

Just when he says it, your water breaks again.

We all look at the puddle on the floor, the breaking of the second waters almost comically timed.

“What… no… that’s not possible… mnghhhhh!” My sentence is cut off as another contraction squeezes my belly and everything inside. There was no way it was twins; they would have seen two babies on the ultrasounds, they would have heard two heartbeats… it just wasn’t possible. And yet, the moment the ranger asked the impossible question I could feel it - movement. There was still movement inside my big belly.

“Oh god, babe… I can feel it. I can feel another baby. And they’re coming down… hoooo”

Your face was white as a sheet as you looked between the newborn in the ranger’s arms and my squirming labouring body on the couch. Despite your obvious shock, you bent down and held my hand and stroked a dampened strand of hair behind my ear. “I guess we’re having twins then. Its okay just breathe through the contractions, just like you did before.” You try to coach me through yet another birth.

The ranger quickly called an ambulance but given our location it wasn’t going to be here for at least 45 minutes. The baby in his arms was crying and wouldn't settle. You tried, swaying the infant in your arms and cooing softly, but to no avail.

“Give her here.” I breathed heavily after an aggressive contraction. You handed me the newborn and put the babe straight on my chest and she latched immediately. She was hungry.

“You’re a natural.” You smiled with affection at your new family.

I started to whimper and groan when the next contraction hit. You offered to take the babe but I didn’t want to let her go, she was happy feeding. The unfortunate side effect of breastfeeding triggered more contractions. The noises I was making quickly turned primal as the head of my daughter's sibling pushed into the birth canal. I needed to move, the sofa was putting too much pressure on my pelvis. I threw my arm out towards you and shuffled painfully on the couch. You seemed to instinctively understand what I needed; to squat. You helped me off of the sofa to drop into a deep squat, my back against the edge of the couch, my knees jack-knifed apart. You squatted in front of me and held me steady, I grabbed onto your shoulder with my free hand, the other supporting the suckling baby.

“Ooooohh it’s coming down…gnnnhhhh!” I grunted suddenly and the baby shifted further. “Mnnnghhhh c-can you see it?” I panted.

“Not quite honey, oh wait! Yes. The top of the head, I can see it. Do you need to push?”

“Mmmm n-not yet…. Trying to wait… let the baby come down b-bit more… oh god it’s so big!” I cried out. “How did I not know there were two in there!?”

“They were obviously very good at hiding.” You tried to joke, not dwelling on the frightening fact we were coming out of these woods with two babies.

“Hoooo okay… okay…. There it is-mnnnghhhhhh!!!!!!” The baby and my body decided it was time and I found myself pushing. Hard.

The ranger came and took the baby from my arms when I started pushing, you stayed poised between my legs for the second time that day ready to deliver a baby.

“I can see hair, they’ve got hair! Keep going darling! Push!!!” You cheered, watching the bulge get bigger as the baby parted my lips.

Bracing my hands on my thighs I grunted and mooed with every push, bringing the surprise baby to a full crown in next to no time. “Get it out, get it out!” I cried, my body already exhausted and sore from the first birth and doing it all over again was too much for me to bear.

“It’s coming, just breathe, and push. Slowly darling, gentle pushes.” You instructed as your hand cupped the full crown.

I struggled to calm my breathing, my body trembling with the efforts of labour.

“Hey.” You said softly, “you’re doing brilliantly. You got this.” And you leaned forward to kiss me. A reassurance washed over me, your comfort and support and love all conveyed within the kiss.

I felt calmer, more in control, when the next contraction struck and I gave it my all on the next push. The head flew out with a gush of fluids and before you could check for a chord the rest of the baby slipped out into your waiting hands.

“A boy! We’ve got a boy!” You exclaimed with a tear in your eye, pulling the baby up and placing him straight on my chest.

“Hey little guy…” I said as I took in the first glance of my newborn son.

The ambulance arrived 20 minutes later, checking all three of us over and delivering the placenta, before taking our new family to the nearest hospital.

[these rp asks are giving me life!!! More like this please!]

[rae-writes]

the floor is lava!

om boys x reader

*all of these are optional romantic/platonic, except for Luke (obviously)*

wc : 0.9k

a/n : a fun little surprise post <3 I might make this into a little mini series- 

bsd ver. |

It was unusually quiet in the Devildom, considering there was rarely a time without some type of disturbance…

And sure enough, just when it seemed like it could finally be a normal day— 

“THE FLOOR IS LAVA!”

House of Lamentation 

Lucifer lets out the biggest sigh possible, poking his head out of the study to deadpan at his scrambling brothers. Despite thinking this is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard of, he doesn’t so much as blink when you barrel past him to jump onto his desk (and even lets you rest your legs in his lap as he continues working, faintly smiling when you mention he has ‘lava resistance’ so it’s okay his feet are on the floor) 

Contrary to what many might think, it was not Mammon who shouted it— even so, he’s sprinting his way from the entrance hall (where he’d just arrived back home) all the way to the common room to dive onto the armchair you’re occupying. The second born is curled in your lap the entire time and might even fall asleep before the game is called off 

And poor, poor Levi, in the middle of gaming but not willing to lose to this ‘stupid normie game’, drops his switch and lunges at you; it was a 50/50 chance on if you could hold him up at the sudden weight or if you’d both fall and die, but he was gonna take it (and it meant he could be in your arms) 

Surprise, surprise, it was Satan who started this chaos. He’d already been comfy and situated on the library couch, happily letting you climb on top of him when you came running in. Watching everyone flail about and run around cursing was simply too good to pass up (and for the first time, it’s also Satan who’s recording everything) 

Asmo has a bone to pick with whoever shouted this nonsense— he was in the middle of doing his nails! He’ll spew complaints as he clamors onto the table, though he’s quick to shut up once you throw yourself down right beside him. He has been wanting to do your nails too lately 

Meanwhile, Beel was too busy chowing down in the kitchen to even hear his brother and remained oblivious until you came sliding around the corner and launching yourself in his arms. He grins at your breathless ‘hi’ and obliges when you suggest he hop up on the kitchen counter to avoid the lava 

Asleep on his bed, Belphie both didn’t hear and was safe either way, and would’ve remained that way until he was woken by your screaming. He groggily gets up to see Mammon trying to drag you down onto the floor with him. It was funny the way Belphie sleepily snatched you up and walked right back in his room, slamming the door for good measure— his bed is the safest place, in his opinion 

Demon King’s Castle

You bet it was Diavolo who shouted it- courtesy of Levi telling him the HoL incident- and was also the one seen sprinting through countless halls with you thrown over his shoulder, slipping around the corners (he’d taken his shoes off for fast sock travel) before he touched base in his office chair. He doesn’t think he’s had that much fun with a game in his life- and he gets you all to himself! 

Simply shaking his head at Lord Diavolo’s antics, Barbatos continues with making the tea and pastries, raising a brow when you bust through the kitchen door frantically. Instead of letting you climb on the counters, he lifts you up with his tail and brings you in close, casually asking your opinion on the frosting (best. taste test. ever.) 

Mephisto was dumbfounded at the sheer childlike attitude of his lord, watching him take off sprinting with an agape mouth. His attention is quickly divided when you slip into his lap, listening to you rant about how you were so not prepared for this in the slightest. He doesn’t shove you off, to your delight— in fact, he just pulls you tighter against him so you’re further away from the ‘lava’ (this was a once in a lifetime opportunity- he was not wasting it just because the game was dumb) 

Purgatory Hall

Despite being human himself, Solomon had never heard of the game and decided to just let you tug him up on his spell table. He blushes faintly at the close proximity, nodding absentmindedly as you explain the rules; he doesn’t care much for it, but if it allows him to be close to you, he’d play it everyday if you wanted 

Oh yeah, Luke screamed it— he thought it looked so fun when you showed him a video and had to do it with the others. He’s laughing and hollering on your back as you run past the other confused angels, cheering when you both scramble onto the dining table. He’s definitely doing this again (but maybe with the demons, who will certainly give a better reaction) 

Simeon had absolutely no idea what was going on— only that you and Luke were zooming through the house and climbing onto things that should not be climbed. Before he could scold either of you, you’d hopped right over the back of the couch and ended up sprawled over his lap. He can’t bring himself to say anything other than ‘hi’ and smile at your silliness

If Simeon didn’t know what was going on, Raphael sure as hell doesn’t— “the floor isn’t…lava..?” It’s hilarious. He’s so confused, even after Luke hurriedly explains the game. He stands in place the entire time, watching, until you jump at him- and luckily his reflexes have him catching you easily. He still doesn’t know how to feel even then but he won’t put you down until you ask (please ignore the flush of his cheeks)

[girlgenius1111]

don't tell Leah

barca femeni x platonic reader :)

based on a request that i changed a little

r has a panic attack at practice, and her teammates help her out. lioness!reader + alexia, lucy, and keira

Playing for Barcelona was a dream, by anyone's standards, and you knew it. You had the opportunity to play with the best in the world, doing the thing you loved more than anything.

This didn't mean that you weren't insanely nervous, though. You'd always been someone who struggled with nerves, but they had noticeably intensified in the past few months. Moving from England to Spain at only 19 would be a lot for anyone, and you noticed it take a toll on your stress levels.

The season was about to start, and you were staring down your first match in the famous blaugrana uniform. Everyone at the club had been nice and supportive since you'd arrived, going out of their way to make you feel comfortable. They teased you for being young, but they always made sure you alright. Lucy and Keira especially, knowing you from the national team where you had also made a young debut, kept a close eye on you.

So, when Jona gathered everyone at the last practice before the first game and announced the starting lineup, everyone cheered and high fived you when he said you'd be starting. You were shouldn't have been surprised; you'd been training well, and the team had several injuries keeping people out. Still, you felt the color drain from your face at his words, but you tried hard to keep cool. You didn't want anyone to think you couldn't handle it. Jona sent everyone off to start their gym session, and you distractedly made your way to weights.

Your brain was working in overdrive, every possible way this could go wrong flying around in your head. You were walking slowly, when a hand on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find Alexia looking at you with a concerned expression on her face.

"Are you okay, chica?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," you responded, forcing a smile onto your face. Alexia nodded, but didn't look so sure as you turned away from her and kept walking.

Alexia had surprised you with how kind she was; she seemed so intimidating, so serious, at a distance, but she was a very sweet person once you got to know her, and she took her job as captain very seriously, meaning she always took time to get to know new players. You weren't acting quite right, and she noticed.

You walked to your station of the circuit that had been set out, back to being completely distracted. You didn't notice as Ingrid came to stand next to you, your partner for the workout. You were losing your grip, and fast.

What if you messed up? What if you got an own goal? What if you got hurt? What if you hurt someone else? What if you got a yellow card? Or a red card? What if you played so horribly, everyone would realize what a mistake it had been to sign you?

Your breath was speeding up, and you felt disconnected from the world around you, as if nothing was real.

"Y/n?" Ingrid called quietly, noticing that although you hadn't yet touched the weights in front of you, you were breathing hard and fast, like you'd just run a couple sprints.

"Need a sec," you managed to gasp out, slipping out the door and walking quickly to the locker room. Ingrid looked around, noticing that no one had really noticed your departure, except for Alexia, who was had been watching the whole thing. Alexia walked over to Ingrid, a questioning look on her face.

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. She seemed distracted, and she was breathing really hard even though we hadn't started yet, and then she just took off." Ingrid replied, looking at the door through which you'd disappeared. Alexia tilted her head towards the door, and Ingrid nodded. Without saying anything else, they exited the room quietly, making their way down the hall the the locker room.

As they got closer, they could hear your gasps for breath, and they sped up. They entered to find you hunched in a little ball at the foot of your locker, head tucked tightly against your knees. It was clear to both girls what was going on.

Alexia turned to Ingrid, speaking quietly. "Go get Lucy or Keira, fast."

Ingrid nodded, turning on her heel and retreating back the way she came. Alexia remained, approaching you slowly.

"Hey, y/n, can you hear me, cariño?" She asked comfortingly. And you nodded your head jerkily against your knees. Alexia sat down next to you, leaving a little space in between you both.

"That's good. Are you having a hard time breathing?" she asked, even though it was evident that you were. Again, you nodded.

"Okay, that's okay. Ingrid's getting Lucy or Keira. Is there anything I can do?" She asked, unable to sit next to you in such distress and do nothing. You didn't respond immediately, thinking it over in your head. It sounded like she really wanted to help. So, you extracted your hand from where it was wrapped around your leg, and shakily extended it toward's Alexia.

Alexia gripped your hand tight in hers, running her thumb along the back in circles, hoping to bring you some comfort. You held onto her like a lifeline, whole body trembling as you fought to bring enough air into your lungs. You heard a pair of footsteps approaching, and soon, someone was setting a hand on your back.

"Y/n? You with me, buddy?" Lucy asked, sitting down on your other side. "We've gotta take those deep breaths, remember? Can you try with me?" Without waiting for a response, she was tugging your other arm away from you, and placing it over her chest. "With me, okay?"

You felt the steady rise and fall of her chest under your hand, and you tried to match it, you really did. It wasn't working though, and as Lucy's attempts to help you failed, you only grew more panicked. Lucy shushed you softly before speaking.

"Don't freak out, you're okay. Do you need your inhaler?" Lucy questioned, and you nodded frantically, but remembered it wasn't in your bag. Keira had made you give her an extra, though, and you tried to tell Lucy all of this in between gasps.

"Kei- has one- in her bag-" You stuttered. And you felt Alexia's hand leave your grasp as she presumably moved across the room to get the inhaler.

It wasn't something you needed often, only when you were really anxious, had a really bad panic attack. It had happened once at an England camp, and you'd forgotten your inhaler at home, which Leah was not happy about, at all. Since then, she'd carried an extra, and she'd made sure to tell Keira and Lucy not to let you anywhere without one, even though you'd only used it a cumulative three times in the past three years.

Alexia returned quickly, handing the inhaler to Lucy, who uncapped and shook it. Alexia resumed her place by your side, hand finding yours again. You clung tightly to her, as Lucy tried to get you to lift your head off your knees.

"Come on, buddy, help me out here a little," she stated, though not unkindly, nudging your exposed cheek with her hand. You lifted your head slightly, and her hand came up to grab your chin, tilting it up. Your eyes met hers, and she hated how scared you looked.

"Open... deep breath in... hold... okay, breathe out," Lucy said, talking you through the very practiced routine. She took you through the process twice more, and you could feel your lungs relaxing. With every breath, you drew in more air, until you didn't feel like you were minutes away from dying anymore.

You leaned your head back against the locker, shutting your eyes tightly as you felt your heart rate slow back down. Lucy waited a minute before speaking.

"What happened?" She asked, knowing you didn't have panic attacks for no reason.

"I'm starting tomorrow," you whispered, "just kind of freaked out."

Both girls nodded in understanding.

"Does this happen a lot?" Alexia asked, your hand still in hers.

"No," you replied, pausing. "A little more often since I moved, but still not all the time."

Alexia looked at you for a minute. "You tell us if it gets worse, yes?"

"Promise," you replied, bringing your head back down to send her a reassuring smile. Lucy was silent next to you, and you could feel the disapproval radiating off of her. Just as you were about to call her on it, you heard the sound of fast footsteps in the hall, and Keira was racing into the room. She looked surprised to see you calm.

"What- Ingrid said you were- and that-" She spluttered, looking between the three of you.

"I'm good, Kei," you started, but were interrupted by a scoff from Lucy. You looked at her, annoyed, while Alexia turned to her, confused.

"You wouldn't have been fine if Keira didn't have one of your inhalers," Lucy said, frustrated.

"You didn't bring your inhaler, y/n!" Keira scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

"I got a new bag and forgot to move it over. It's not a big deal."

"It would have been a big deal if you had suffocated." Lucy mumbled.

"I wouldn't have suffocated! At the most, I would have passed out, woken up, and been fine." You replied, embarrassed that they were being this stern in front of Alexia.

"I'm still telling Leah," Keira said, uncharacteristically serious.

"Don't you dare, she'll kill me!" You said, not really believing that Keira would tell your captain.

Keira opened her mouth to respond, but Alexia interrupted her. She looked amused at the three of you, but her tone still rang with authority, like it did when she wanted to be taken seriously.

"Do you have another extra?" Alexia asked. You nodded. "I want one for my bag. Just in case," she said, and you groaned. Keira and Lucy grinned triumphantly, and Alexia's lips lifted into a smile too.

You thought you'd escaped the overprotectiveness when you'd left England, but apparently it was still thriving here. Or maybe, this was just how the team operated; always looking out for each other.

-----

let me know if you want to see more of young reader and the team :)

[scar-lie]

THE TEST [ELIZABETH]

Summary : You and your best friend Elizabeth have in the after party and one thing lead to another

Pairing : Elizabeth Olsen x Fem! Reader

Warning : Pregnancy, Smut, Elizabeth has penis, angst, overthinking

Word Count : 1,602

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

DM me for info/Commission | COMMI MASTERLIST

two lines, it's two lines

It happened so fast; it's like it happened yesterday; it's still fresh in my mind and body, like her touches and whispers are already printed in my mind and my body.

How her touches and kisses burn my skin, her delicate fingers running across my body, her hot breath that whispers in my ear pleasurably, and her soft but firm trust—I could still feel it.

—

“LIZZZZZZ!! ” I shouted excitedly when I saw the brunette with mesmerizing deep green eyes a few feet away from me.

“Y/N/N, Oh my gosh, I missed you.” Lizzie quickly took me on her arm and hugged me tightly. This is the first time we have seen each other for over 5 months because we are both in different countries.

And I expected her to be on the red carpet, but I had no chance of finding her, but at least now I saw her here at the afterparty.

“I missed you so much. Come on, let’s go over there and spill every tea you got,” Lizzie said with a teasing tone and winked at me, then dragged me to the bar while giggling.

We spend our whole night in the bar, sitting there chit-chatting like there’s no tomorrow, and of course, the longer we spill our own teas, the more we’re ordering different drinks, which means we ended up drunk and slurring our own words.

“You know what fun to do? ” Lizzie asked me while wiggling her eyebrows at me, so I got curious.

“Ooohhh, what did you have in mind, Miss Gorgeous? ” You play along, leaning closer to her face; she smiles devilishly, then just takes my wrist and starts to drag me somewhere I don’t know, but we're definitely sure we’re stumbling on our way.

Until she pushed me and kissed me passionately, closing the door and starting to touch my body, and I couldn’t help but kiss her back hungrily, hooking my arms on her neck, and let her guide our bodies until the back of my leg collided with the bed and we stumbled down.

“Having fun? "She whispered while kissing me. I nodded and moaned in agreement while her hands started to discard my clothes one by one, followed by her own, until we were both naked on the bed.

"Please, Liz, I want you. I-I love you, please.” I pleaded while my hand gripped her hair, moaning at the pleasure of her hand pumping inside me and stretching me open for her and her kisses on my neck, chest, and breast.

“As you wish, my lady," she whispers in her ear while biting it, then flips me over, making me position in all fours, ass up and face down on the mattress.

“That’s more like it, sweet girl," Lizzie whispered again while running her long fingers down my spine, making me shudder and taking me by surprise when she started to push slowly.

“Oohhhh, ye-yes!! Fuck,” I moan. When she started to push in, I could feel everything: how big and girthy she is and her veins in her cock. It made me lose my mind.

“Fuck this tight pussy; you’re sucking me in,” she whispers, and I grip the sheet and bite down on the pillow while moaning.

“Oh god, please, please, please,” she gives you a soft trust, laying her half weight on top of you while kissing your shoulder and back neck.

“You feel so good, fuck.” I look back and look her in the eyes. I don’t know what she sees, but once we lock eyes, she kisses her hungrily, and her soft trust makes it more firm, hitting deeper than before and reaching the spot where I go wild and that I didn’t know I had one.

“That’s the spot, yeah, oh, fucking cum baby, I love you so much.” I moan when I hear her words; it makes me feel happy and it brings more arousal in me; it’s like something erupts inside me, and I cum around her cock.

—

“Y/N? Are you in here? ” I snapped out of my headspace when I heard my name being called, and after that, the bathroom door of my room opened, revealing Lizzie in her comfy clothes.

“He-hey wh-hat are you doing here? ” I try to cover up my nervousness and smile at her.

“I came by to ask if you wanted to go out to the cinema with me. "She then leans her right hip on your sink, which makes your heart stop, remembering that the PT is lying there exposed.

“And since you didn’t reply to any of my calls, I decided to use the key. Wait, what is... Oh, my god? "Her happy dementor quickly changed into a shock and unreadable one when she saw the positive pregnancy test. It made my blood run cold.

“I-is that a positive pregnancy test? "She asks in a monotone, pointing in the PT and looking at me. I bite my lips while the unshred tears start to form, and I nod.

"Yeah," I whisper, looking down, not wanting to see her reaction.

“Is it mine? ” I could feel her eyes burning on me, and all I could do was nod.

After that night, when we woke up on each other’s naked bodies, we tried not to panic and solve it like mature adults, so we did. We talked about it and decided to keep it between us, and well, we confessed our feelings to each other and decided to take it easy and slow.

So that’s what we’ve been doing for the past two months. We would go out once in a while, have a movie night, cook together, and surprise one another. It’s all perfect.

“No. no no no, no it’s not mine; I don’t even want one, ok, so it’s impossible; it’s mine; I am careful, ok?” she shouted at me, running her hand through her hair. All I could do is close my eyes while my tears ran down my cheeks.

"You're the only one I've been with for the past nine months. If you don’t want it, go and leave, but I’m not going to kill them whether you like it or not.” She keeps whispering and chanting that she doesn’t want one, so I just shook my head, my own heart breaking at the thought of us being separated when our relationship is barely starting.

"No, no, may-maybe it’s a mistake. Come on, let’s go see a doctor.” I want to argue with her, shout at her, and throw her out of my house, but I don’t have the strength to do that, so I just let her take me to the doctor with the pregnancy test, and the doctor did check if I was pregnant.

“Ok uhm….Ms. Y/L/N and Ms. Olsen, the pregnancy test that you do is expired, which means that the result that it gives you is false. We run a blood and urine sample test to make sure, and it all comes back negative. ” Once I heard that, I froze. I really want to have one, but I guess we both want it differently because I can see in her eyes how relieved and happy she is.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Knight.” On the way to the car and our way back to my house, I’m just sitting there, looking out on the window silently, and I guess she senses something’s wrong because before we got home, she parked the car to the side.

She turned around and took my hand, caressing my knuckles and kissing my hand to get my attention.

“Hey, talk to me,” she whispered, leaning in and making me turn my head to look at her.

“What’s the problem? Is it me? The way I reacted earlier? ” I close my eyes and push my head away from her hand. I’m not mad at her because she doesn’t want to have one, but the fact that she thinks that I let other people touch me while we’re starting to build a relationship is what hurts the most.

“I’m sorry for what I did or the way I reacted earlier," she sighs, then kisses my head and runs her fingers through my hair.

“I don’t want kids; yes, I don’t want one at the moment or in the future. I-I don’t know, but all I know is that I don’t want one, so when I heard that it’s mine, I freaked out, and I know that’s not a valid reason. I know, and I’m sorry.” She then kissed the back of my hand.

“I don’t want to cut off what’s going on between us. I like you-a lot, and I want to explore the world with you. I-I want to be with you. I love you,” she whispers, and I look down and back to her eyes.

“It’s not about you not wanting a kid; I respect your decision; it’s just how easily you think of me whoring myself out there that I got pregnant by someone else while we’re starting something,” I say calmly, looking at our hands that’s bound together.

“I’m sorry. I promise that I will address my issue and talk it out with you like a mature adult. I’m sorry, baby; that’s not my intention. I’m so sorry.” I smile, nodding, and lean on her arms.

“Don’t do that again,” I whisper, burying my head in her neck. She then took me on her arm, hugging me.

“I won’t, I promise.” I smile and let the warm embrace enlighten my body.

[luimagines]

One Breath at a Time

Another commission!

They asked for a Reader who had just had a seizer be comforted by Time. I tried my best to be as accurate as I could.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

“Easy, easy-”

The voice you heard as you came back to consciousness was a bit frantic. It was male, soft-spoken but no doubt panicked. There was a weight on your shoulders that kept you from sitting up. The voice spoke again. You could have sworn you recognized it. “Don’t… Don’t move. Take it slow. That’s it…” 

You coughed and tried to open your eyes. Your mouth was dry and all of your limbs felt heavy.

Time leaned over you, keeping a firm grip on your shoulders. When he saw that your eyes had opened, his face relaxed a bit and leaned back. “Thank the goddess, that was… That was something.”

“What was?” You croaked and tried to sit up again. This time instead of stopping you, he helped pull you up and moved something behind your back. You groaned loudly. You couldn’t hold yourself up and leaned back again. You leaned against the pillow Time had moved for you with a soft breath. You were dizzy.

“I don’t know…” Time leaned back as well, watching you intently. “You tell me.”

Despite the dizziness in your head, you moved your head to get a good look around. You were still where the camp was but it was just you and Time. You were on the ground, away from the fire, while everyone else was either asleep or gone.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked around you. You don’t remember moving or how to go into this position. The last thing you remembered was that you were with the group. Dinner had ended and everyone was getting ready to go to bed. You offered to stay up with Time for the first watch despite the headache you had, and now you’re here. “Why am I on the ground?”

“You fell.”

“Where’s-”

“Getting help,” Time answered your question before you could finish it. “You collapsed on us and jerked and shook- I had never seen anything like it.”

You groan again, but this time it had nothing to do with the ache in your bones. “I know what happened.”

Time put his hand on your knee, running his thumb absentmindedly over the joint as he waited for an explanation. You tried not to move too much. The dizziness hadn’t fully gone away yet and you were beginning to feel nauseous. You closed your eyes and leaned even more on the pillow Time had placed for you.

You looked at him some more and could see the unrestrained concern in his gaze.

You offered him a brave smile. It felt completely out of place with the way your body felt like nothing but a sack of bricks. Everything hurt and you felt sick to your stomach. “I have a condition.”

You’ve never seen a grown man pale so fast.

You pat his hand and take a deep breath. How were you going to explain this to someone who’s openly admitted to never seeing it before? He likely didn’t know what it was if he hadn’t recognized the symptoms.  “It’s when something goes wrong in my brain. The signals that make my body move go haywire. The lack of a stable connection makes me lose control. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Your mouth is so dry. Your tongue clicks as you try to detach it from the roof of your mouth. You’re still thirsty. 

“No, no…” Time is quick to console you. He noticed the way you’ve been trying to wet your lips and your mouth. Swiveling on his hips, he begins to search through a random pack. He takes out the water canteen and opens it. “It all happened so quickly. Not one of us was prepared for it. Twilight and Wild took Epona and took off like a shot to the nearest village for a medic. Hyrule, Legend, and Warrior went to get supplies or fairies, whichever came first.”

He leaned forward and pressed the canteen carefully against your lips. You appreciated the assist and let your lips part to let the water in. You took small sips, letting one solid gulp merely sit in your mouth to moisturize the inside of it. You swallowed.

Time nodded and pulled the canteen away. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Like I was spun around in a thousand circles,” You groaned and tilted your head back. The water wasn’t as cold as you wanted it to be, but you were if you would have been able to stomach it. “And I’m exhausted.”

Time reached out, putting his hand on the top of your head. Gently, he ran his palm over your hair. He carded his fingers through your locks, being mindful of the knots that you had garnered during your episode. “Does this happen often?”

“Often enough,” You grumbled. “I’ll be alright… I just need a moment to gather myself again.”

“Are you sure?” Time asked, scooting a little closer. He looked frightened. You don’t blame him. 

You nodded.

Biting his lip, Time moved over, laying down next to you. He put his arm around you, continuing to run his hand through your hair. With all the strength that you had left, you rolled over. He gathered you into his arms, letting your head rest on his chest. Time began to massage your scalp, humming softly as you fought to keep your eyes open.

“Link?” You found the strength to say. “I should have said something-”

“Shh…” Time said in reply. “You’re alright. You’re alright now. It’s over. There’s nothing to worry about now.”

With a grunt, you allow yourself to be soothed by the man as he cradles your body close. “Will the others be back soon?”

“Yes,” He says. “They didn’t go far.”

“Will you stay?” You asked. You turned your cheek into his chest and took a deep breath. He smelt nice, strangely. Like pine and clean smoke.

“I won’t leave anytime soon,” Time says softly, running his other hand over your back. “I’m staying right here. I promise.”

[allfattenedup]

Hello and what great progress, exceptional!!!

I see myself in you even if I'm just starting out... cause I was also a thin athlete, even too thin at certain times, I can ask you what pushed you to start and after the first phases what did you did it push you to move forward and never go back?

Thankyou!

Thank you so much!

I've told this story a few times but not for a while. So I have always had this kink. But I was also pretty vain, lol. I don't mind admitting that. I wanted to look hot, it was important to me. So, I won't say I buried the kink - I definitely jerked off to pretty much only fat guys and girls, and even fantasized heaps about myself getting fat, but I was just really strict in my mind that it was a fantasy only and that I'd never actually do it to myself.

Eventually, it became overwhelming. In hindsight I realise it was a self sustaining cycle — I was working out more and taking better care of my looks to try to drown out the desire, but the more I did that, the more delicious the thought of ruining it all became in my mind. The pull became way too strong. It was all I was thinking about all the time.

So, I did eventually make a deal with myself that I would gain 20lbs, just to get it out of my system, and then lose it before anyone really noticed.

That was the best/worst/best/worst decision I ever made.

Because oh my god, if I thought fantasizing about myself with a belly was hard to resist, actually having one? Actually watching and feeling one grow and wobble and push over my waistband? A potent lifelong sexual fantasy coming to life like that? Fuck me, I didn't stand a chance.

It got out of control real fucking fast. I swelled like crazy. Got the heavy hanging stomach of my dreams and nightmares. Got a pair of moobs, got a double chin and a fat face. I quickly realised I also had an embarrassment kink and with that, the guardrails just came off. The safety net burned up. The thought of having to face people in this body was as delicious as it was horrifying so there was no way I could stop myself from making it worse and worse and worse. I've done a few different drugs in my life and I have NEVER been as out of my mind as I was during that period of time. Absolutely off my face on lust.

Although it's not quite true that I never went back. I exploded with fat so fast that it seriously freaked me out. And even though I was literally getting off on the panic of how obese I was, eventually it became too much and I did actually lose a lot of weight. Not down to my original weight but enough that people were congratulating me everywhere I went for how "good I was looking". It felt nice, honestly. I missed the erotic tornado of weight gain, but it was kind of nice to feel normal again, to feel a little bit confident in my looks again, and I promised I'd leave this whole surreal experience behind me. But then eventually... it was all I was thinking about all the time. It became overwhelming. The pull became too strong.

I should have known what would happen. I came back to tumblr. Explained myself, showed my weight loss. People were really kind and supportive. I admitted that I just wanted to be part of the community again but I'm not gonna be gaining any weight back. And then that became 'I'm only gonna gain a tiny bit of weight back'. And then for probably about a year I was "not gaining" while slowly getting fatter and fatter. I started a Patreon and the thought of being fattened for a living started to ping that overwhelming desire again. My body started to take on a different shape than it did in my first gain. So all of a sudden that made everything new and hot again. I was in denial for wayyyy longer than was reasonable. I somehow managed convinced myself I wasn't really gaining on purpose, meanwhile I was ordering a second pint of Ben & Jerry's while still shoving down the first. I'm sure half of you guys knew I was intentionally gaining again before I did. And that's where we are now. I gained slower this time. My body is handling it better. Seems to me the only way from here is up 😈📈🥵