#like when you have an impulsive thought youre more likely to act quickly and think on it less

[jweekgoji]

Hello! Your writing is amazing! Can I request a yandere Sentinel Prime with a femme reader who has an overprotective Sire? Her sire does not care about who Sentinel is and clearly does not like him and it pisses Sentinel off. Take your time!

Yandere!Sentinel Prime/Femme!Reader with an overprotective sire [hcs]

tw: yandere behavior, mentions of manipulation, jealousy, very brief violence, possesiveness. word count: ~890 a/n: for some reason, I can see Ultra Magnus being this father figure, hehe. thank you for request, Anon~ smoooooch

Your sire doesn't like Sentinel? Well, that certainly wasn't in the plans for him. He expects everyone to treat him like a royalty and look up at him, so when someone treats him differently, it kinda catches off guard.

I don't think yandere!Sentinel will go into his 'killing mode' the moment he sees an obstacle, mainly because he's sure he can take care of that in a classy way.

Sentinel is definitely that guy who really wants to make a good first impression on your sire. He might act like a really confident mech in front of you, but for some reason, he is a little nervous about the thoughts of meeting your sire.

In his mind, it really goes quickly from «oh come on, why would her father dislike me? Everyone loves me!» to «oh Primus. what if he hates me?» and that's how it repeats 24/7. Eventually, the confident Sentinel wins, but he takes a lot of time to prepare for any possible scenario. Everything should be perfect, every single smallest detail is personally checked by him, so nothing goes past.

Imagine Sentinel's expression when your sire harshly brushes it off with a «You're not good enough for my daughter and I don't want you around her. End. Of. Story» and just SLAMS the door shut into his face the moment the other bot sees him. Basically, that's where everything goes wrong. Oh, his poor ego.

Yandere Sentinel especially hates when something goes wrong and not according to his plan. He's a perfectionist, and if he spots any imperfections, it's a total disaster for him! His mood quickly changes from sweet and kind to annoyed and impulsive, so it's better to stay away from him for a good few minutes until he takes a deep breath and goes like «this is fine...everything is fine! :)» with his optic twitching and a small frown on his faceplate, which is easily noticed through his smile.

Yandere!Sentinel gets paranoid with the thought that your sire will start putting the wrong thoughts in your processor, talking trash about him behind his back, so eventually you will start to question your love for Sentinel as well. So, he decides to step in and turn the tables, planting the seeds of distrust about your parental figure. Does your father really care that much for you? Nothing is wrong with being a little protective over your own little spark, but you're no sparkling, you should build your own life!

He does it carefully, using tiny, innocent and careful remarks whenever you two are alone after another disastrous meeting with your sire.

«If your sire really wants what is best for you, why he takes your chances of happiness?»

Until he practically struck you with a head-on, «You always tell me that you love me. So you should choose. Me or him.»

Sentinel is selfish. A small part of him understands how ridiculous it is, to feel jealousy just because your mentor is present in your life. But when you start having more of those father-and-daughter times together, when your attention goes more to your sire rather than him, all rationality in his processor just disappears.

He spends half the day trying to call for you. He wants to know where the frag you are and WHY you don't pick up his calls immediately, since he needs you right here and now. As his partner, you're obligated to always be there for him, and being ignored by you...the audacity!

Sentinel walks in circles in his office, and the silence is bothering him to the insanity. One moment, he will start crying his spark out to her about it.

“After everything I have done to her..! Can you imagine that?” he looks at Airachnid for validation, his voice full of frustration. “I swear, if she calls back, I'm going to tell her everything I think of her, that—”

But the moment he sees your name popping up on the screen, he is conflicted. On the one hand, he wants to pick up immediately, on the other hand, he doesn't want to seem desperate. So he waits a few seconds until he finally decides.

Airachnid gives him almost a disappointed look as she sees her boss using that sweet voice when he talks to you. Suddenly, Sentinel is not that angry anymore, and if anything, he's relieved to finally see and hear your precious voice. He almost forgets about what he said a moment ago until you hit him with «oh, sorry Sentinel, I was with my sire all day. I can't visit you today. See you tomorrow!».

He almost snaps the device in his servo by the end of the call.

Eventually, Sentinel gets exhausted from all of it. He really tried, despite the constant disrespect from your sire. He has no remorse when he finally asks Airachnid to deal with the obstacle in his way of getting you, covering the story as an incident. The death of your sire would shatter you, but don't worry, you will heal soon enough with him by your side.

[caffeinatedopossum]

I think many people who refer to intrusive thoughts incorrectly as being like "oo I dyed my hair! My intrusive thoughts won today teehee" are actually thinking of *impulsive thoughts* which, while not always normal, are still distinct from intrusive thoughts

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART III

Bangchan x reader. (s,f,a)

Chapters: Part I / Part II

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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[princessbrunette]

when lamb!reader had suggested a video call with jj instead of hanging out at her house, it felt simply preventative. she’d been having urges lately, feelings — ones she’s not used to feeling. sometimes when she was around jj, it was like her body had a brain of its own. an unholy and disgraceful brain that went against what she thought she was wishing. she was beginning to believe if they were to hang out in person one on one, she might act out of impulse to sate the desire that had built inside her.

you’d been feeling this way since he’d gifted you that stuffed lamb. he was technically just a friend, no different from the other pogues you’d been hanging out with since trying to find your feet in the obx — but there was a different sort of simmering tension you felt with him and only him. what started as annoying teasing and jabs became warm fluttering in your stomach and unholy thoughts about his hands and mouth. it was like he knew it too, jj always seemed to have this look in his eye, a curl to the corner of his mouth — like there was something about you on the tip of his tongue that he was withholding. it made you want to set yourself alight.

as the call sound rings on your screen, you ponder why you’d made your hair all pretty, and why you’d chosen your best white nightgown. it felt and looked innocent at best, but as much as you’d hate to admit it — the fact there was nothing beneath gave you a rush like no other.

your thoughts were interrupted by his handsome face on your screen.

“fancy seeing you here, lamb chop.” he smirks, that same knowing look in his eye that he always had. without thinking you fiddle with your cross necklace.

“didnt i tell you to stop calling me that?” you respond, feeling as though you hid the hitch in your throat pretty well.

“and why would i listen to you?” he jokes, shuffling in his desk chair — bedroom a mess in his background. you’re about to comment on it, tell him to tidy it on instinct to nag him but he speaks first. “lookin’ real good tonight. you get all pretty for me?”

something about the way he asks that sends heat to your lower regions, something that felt forbidden and wrong and yet addicting.

“i’m just wearing what i sleep in. i figured id check in with you before i get some rest.” it’s an attempt at sounding casual, something you’d clearly applied much time and thought to.

“you wear that to sleep? pan down for me real quick?” you hear him shuffle closer to the screen like he was really trying to get a good look, and without thinking you obey — showing him the white lace of your night gown, from the straps to the way it falls on your upper thigh. he chuckles with a quiet “mm.” sound, and you’re panning back to your face quickly — glancing subconsciously at the door, wondering what your mother might say if she saw you showing your night gown to a boy.

“thats real pretty lil lamb. like you.” you hate how smooth he was, how every compliment had heat rushing to your centre.

“no need to flatter me.” you shrug a shoulder, and he doesn’t miss the way your tits jostle a little at the movement. he even leans on his elbows at his desk, eyes pointed downward unabashedly.

“right, right so… little limbrey… talk me through your night time routine. i wanna step into your shoes for a lil bit.” he settles, always insanely good at making conversation from nothing. you purse your lips in thought, looking around your room.

“well… i showered, changed, and usually before bed i do something stimulating but relaxing to get me ready to sleep and tire me out.” you list, staring at the book going unread on your bedside table. he huffs a laugh through a smirk and his brows shoot up.

“oh yeah? you stimulate yourself? tell me more ‘bout that.” he jokes and you furrow your brows, adorably in his opinion.

“what do you mean?” you question and jj licks his lips, trying to hold himself back from laughing anymore but failing miserably.

“ah, i’m just playin’ with you babydoll— carry on.” he waves a hand but you’re curious now. perhaps you sensed there was some innuendo behind it, but you pushed anyway— your inner excitement getting the better of you. you shift on your bed to lay on your side, getting more comfortable.

“i wanna laugh too, tell me what it means?” you pout grumpily which makes him relent instantly.

“nah… i was just makin’ a joke about… you know… you playin’ with yourself. ‘lotta people do that before they sleep.” he dismisses, and usually you’d scold him or make a face — but tonight, you’re not sure what possesses you — you ask,

“do you?”

jj blinks in surprise at the question for a second.

“do…uh, well,” he coughs awkwardly and you already regret asking. you cast your eyes downwards. “yeah, i do. you don’t ever… indulge?”

you’re quick to shake your head, though you’re lying. you’ve tried a few times.

“its a sin.” the words are instinctual when they leave you, and it only deepens jj’s amused expression that forms once more across his handsome features.

“yeah uh, no shit honey. you gotta release sometimes though right? s’better that way�� keeps the sinful activities at bay so you don’t go out n’make bad choices. preventative procedures n’all that shit.” he converses, scratching his temple — a habit you’d pick up on when he’s a tad nervous or apprehensive.

you’d never thought of it that way before, so you take a moment to stare into space — a rush of relief coming over you. he was right. it had to be better than going and sleeping around, surely.

“wow, that’s… uncharacteristically insightful.”

“i’on know what that means—”

“you’re right. i don’t feel so bad anymore.” you chime, looking rather elated. his smile returns and he tilts his head.

“yeah? so you do indulge?” he drags it out, like he wants to tease you but he doesn’t wanna push too hard and shut you down again. you bite your lip, mulling over his question.

“m’not great at it, but yes.” you try to remain prideful, sticking your nose up a little.

“comes with practice i guess. i’mma beat around the bush here — i’d say i know my way around lady parts pretty good so like, if you ever need any pointers… on how to… y’know, suppress your urges… i got’chu.” he tries to sound nonchalant, careful, even shrugs for added effect. what he doesn’t see, is your hand reaching blindly to your bedside table and turning the framed image of Jesus to be face down.

twenty minutes later, and you’re hot in the face with your back propped up against a load of frilly, fluffed pillows. the laptop sits between your spread legs, displaying your open glossy cunt centre screen, your fingers stroking circles over your throbbing bud as you try to suppress your whimpers.

“uh-huh, juuuuuust like that. you wanna try rubbin’ it up and down? or do you wanna stick to the whole circle thing.” beneath his desk, jj slowly rolls his fist over his cock. he felt kinda weird about it, but he didn’t wanna alert you to the fact he was helping himself too— thinking it might freak you out and make you call it a night.

“‘like it like this!” you squeak, being mindful of your volume. you knew the pain meds had likely knocked your mother out clean by now, but you could never be too careful. you buck your hips against your hand, and even through the quality of the video call jj can see the arousal pooling between your spread legs. you had no idea how needy you could be.

“god damn, mama— you needed this, huh?” he chuckles, but it’s kind and he’s not teasing, infact there’s a softness to it. an affection.

“mhmmm.” you release in a whine, and jj is thrilled. he loved that he got you like this, letting go of all your beliefs for a while, forgetting it all because your head is so hazy with pleasure.

“keep rubbing just like that, yeah? just like i’d do it.” he mutters the last part, but he knows you hear it when your eyes flutter open, hand slowing. shit. he didn’t want you to come to your senses about just how sinful this whole thing was— he was barely teaching anymore, more so talking you through it.

his eyes widen a tad and his own hand freezes. “shit, uh— sorry ‘bout that. that’s my bad, i got carried away.”

in a whisper, with furrowed brows like it pained your very being to ask, you come forth with “keep talking like that.”

it stuns him for a few second, and his thumb swipes over his tip again. “wait… for real?”

“unfortunately it’s…mmph— it’s the only thing that’s gonna get me there. i’m tired, jj… i just wanna… i wanna—”

“cum?” he tries to stop the grin by pressing his tongue to the corner of his mouth, and his expression softens when he sees the way you melt, more arousal dribbling from you.

“yeah.” you groan, causing jj to pout in faux sympathy.

“yeah? i got you mama. keep strokin’ that pretty thing. i’mma tell you right now, you’re missin’ out on this tongue. i could make you feel things you never thought you could feel. would make you cream so hard you’d have tears down them pretty cheeks. that what you wanna hear, lil lamb?”

“oh… oh god!” your toes clench, everything clenches.

“nah baby, it ain’t god. s’just me.”

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt. 2

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst.

See My Masterlist Here

Part One

Tonight was the night you were going to confess your feelings to Spencer. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, it was too painful. You were worried you would lose him when you told him, but you thought there was a good chance he felt the same.

You spent all afternoon cooking his favorite foods, planning for a night of cuddling and love making after you got the confession out of the way. When you were finished getting dressed, Spencer knocked on your door.

You invited him in, taking your seats at the table. You ate in silence, your nerves making your stomach hurt. “I have to tell you-“ “We should talk.” You spoke over each other. You smile, giggling with excitement. Spencer wanted to talk too. This is going so well.

“You go first.” You prompt him, smiling wide at him. “These past six months have been so fun. But I think our time together should come to an end.” You try to swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cry.

“I want to keep it professional at work. We can still be friends, we will just take the sex out of it.” He explains, studying your face. All you can do is nod as he rattles on about how the statistics of such a relationship show that the longer you did it, the harder it would be to end it.

You used to love hearing him spout a million facts about whatever topic he was talking about. But not tonight. “So what did you want to tell me?” He asks, serving himself more food. “Um, I was just going to tell you that book I ordered you came this morning. I thought you would be excited.” You rise from the table, retrieving the thick book from the counter and bringing it to Spencer.

“Thanks.” His smile breaks your heart. You can feel that your attempts to keep the tears at bay are failing. “Why don’t you take the food with you? I’m suddenly not feeling well.” You tell him, as you turn your back to get the lids for the bowls. You hand them to him, turning your back as the tears start to fall. “I’m going to lay down. Lock the door behind you.”

If he thought your sudden illness had anything to do with him, he didn’t act like it. Spencer was right about nothing changing. He was the exact same as he had always been with you, just without the sex.

Spencer was heartbroken. He didn’t want to end his sexual relationship with you. But he couldn’t put himself through the pain anymore. He spent all of his spare time with you. He couldn’t keep you off his mind. Things had changed a few months ago. He had bent the rules he set in place so he wouldn’t fall for you.

You had started spending the night and cuddling. Spencer had fallen fast and hard. But he couldn’t go through every day knowing you didn’t feel the same. So he had to end it, as painful as it was for him. It was no secret that you had been hooking up. But he didn’t want to talk about it with anyone.

Until two weeks after he called it off, he was so upset, he broke down and talked to Derek. He wanted to know all the details, but Spencer only told him the important information. “I have an easy fix for you, pretty boy.” Morgan smirked at him. Spencer leaned in, excited there was a solution.

“You know what they say, if you want to get over someone, get under someone else. You just have to sleep with someone and she will be the last thing you’re thinking of. Works for me every time.” Spencer cleared his throat. “Easy for you to say. I’m lucky she agreed to sleep with me. I’ll never find someone else so quickly, and I’m not sure I would want to.”

“I know someone who has been into you since she started here.” Derek boasts, nodding his head to the blonde at the coffee pot talking to Rossi. “Ashley?” Spencer squeaked, while Derek laughed.

Ashley Seaver was one coworker you could not get used to. She was impulsive, always throwing herself into trouble. You couldn’t stand her. Not only for how she acted on the field, but for how she looked at Spencer. She wanted him, and she didn’t care who knew it. She was all over him from the second she started working at the BAU.

She even knew that you and Spencer were hooking up, but she didn’t care. She used every opportunity to touch him or say something flirty, making eye contact with you the whole time she did it. Luckily, Spencer was oblivious. When you mentioned how she hung all over him, he said he didn’t even notice. He was too busy thinking about the case or the thing you did with your tongue the night before.

So you stopped being jealous. It wasn’t like you had any right to be. You and Spencer were just hooking up. If he wasn’t interested in her, then you would just let it go. The last time she tried anything had been a month ago. You were sick and she invited Spencer to go eat after work.

Spencer being the nice guy he is, accepted her offer. While they were out, he talked about you the whole time. She had told him to stop talking about you, that she was right there and she wanted whatever he was willing to give. He politely turned her down, but she was furious. She kept her distance from both of you since then.

That’s why you were confused when you heard her squealing and giggling, saying Spencer’s name as loudly as she could. You looked up from your mountainous stack of paperwork that you came in early to work on to see Spencer hugging her.

There was a vase of roses on her desk. “I can’t believe you got these for me! What a surprise! I knew you would come around!” She almost yelled, looking directly at you. Spencer took her hand in his, “I wanted to get you something before our date tonight, but I wasn’t sure I would have time to get them after work.” He explained shyly looking at her.

That little shit! Was he actually blushing? Was he seriously going on a date with Ashley tonight? And what is with the roses? He never once got you flowers. Did he call things off with you to date her? Seeing them together made you feel sick. Actually, the temperature felt like it rose a hundred degrees. You needed to get up now. You ran to the bathroom making it just in time to throw up.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @13430ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck

[heizlut]

Need Somebody Older

ꕀ cw: fucking in the training simulator lol

ꕀ tags: teasing sub fem!reader, beefy daddy!yhan, age gap (15yr difference😵‍💫), daddy kink unlocked, unprotected sex, fucking in full-nelson, creampie

ꕀ more nsfw under the cut

ꕀ part 2 here

ꕀ m!list here

ꕀ a/n: @glitteryshlong not me having Older by Isabel LaRosa on repeat while writing this😮‍💨

Yhan knows this is wrong. He shouldn't be doing this with you, but the way your pretty cunt squeezes around his cock is way too enticing to quit now. His hips thrust up into you, pushing his girthy cock even deeper inside of you as practically go limp in his hold, babbling senselessly about how good his cock feels and just how how badly you need more. Oh, how he got much more than he ever bargained for…

⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ

You were always such a sweet and fiery little thing, always determined to push past your limits. Always toeing the line between what was right and wrong. Yhan couldn't help but be drawn to you, even though he was easily 15 years older than you, not that you ever complained.

You were the one always flirting here and there whenever you'd come to the training simulator, throwing out compliments about his rugged features and the grey strands in his black hair; strutting around in skirts he thought were ridiculous to wear while you trained.

At first he just rolled his eyes and told you to quit wasting your time talking to him when you should be training. But after a full month of your relentless, teasing flirtations, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to know what you would do if he acted on his impulses.

⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ

Yhan watches as sweat drips down the sides of your face, your breathing all ragged as you finish your training session in the simulator. Your sweat-drenched body glistens under the lights, showcasing every curve and valley.

Your arms are sore from testing out your new gauntlets on the simulated tacet discords, but you weren't ready to stop yet. You approach Yhan with a determined look on your sweet face, "Adjust the difficulty to a higher setting."

Yhan raises a brow at your request, trying to keep his eyes from trailing down to the swell of your breasts that rise and fall with each heavy breath. Before he can properly think about granting your request, you sway on your feet, barely able to stand upright.

Quickly, he reaches out, placing a steadying hand on your waist. The surprised look on your face did something to him. The way your pretty lips parted and your eyes widened had him tightening his grip around you, pulling you closer to him. His bicep flexing as he does his best to restrain himself as he holds you against him.

Feeling his firm hold on your waist as he held you close, you can't help but let out a shuddering breath. His musky scent and a hint of cigarettes floods your senses, making your head spin and arousal pool between your legs. Yhan's thumb rubs lightly against you hip bone, sending jolts of electricity down your spine. The tension between you crackles like electricity in the air.

"Th-thank you...", you stammer out, trying to maintain focus despite the growing heat between you. Your eyes flit between his rugged features to his muscles rippling beneath his tight shirt. There was something primal and exciting about him, so different from any other man your age.

Yhan can't help but smirk as he caught your eyes drifting. Taking advantage of the close proximity, he leans down, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper, "You doing okay, sweetheart?" Your eyes snap back up to meet his as a blush falls over your cheeks. You nod, trying desperately to suppress the fluttering feeling inside of you.

"I'm fine...", you reply softly before biting at your plush lower lip. Yhan feels a surge of arousal at the sight you, his cock hardening in his pants. Your gaze flickers downwards, noticing the bulge before quickly averting your gaze.

Yhan chuckles softly, finding your reaction to be quite endearing. "Relax, sweetheart", he smirks, taking your chin in his grasp and redirecting your gaze back up to him, "I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright." His voice is low and gravelly, filled with raw desire.

With your gaze firmly locked on his, he releases your jaw only to trail his fingers down your neck. "Don't be shy now", he murmurs, leaning in even closer til his lips almost graze yours, "Where'd that fiery little tease go, hmm?" Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, tingles rush through your body and straight to your aching clit, desperate for his touch.

Yhan's thumb grazes over the hollow of your throat, drawing a soft moan from your lips. With a low growl at your reaction, he closes the gap between you, crashing his lips against yours in a rough, demanding kiss. His large hands grip your hips as he pulls you flush against his muscular frame.

The salty taste of your lingering sweat mixed with a subtle sweetness he can’t quite place is so intoxicating, fueling his primal desire for you. Yhan's tongue licks at your lips, begging for entrance, to which you grant. His tongue explores your mouth as his lips meet yours in a rough, yet deliberate rhythm.

Despite the roughness of his actions, you find yourself melting into him. Your tongue dances with his in a silent surrender to his dominance over you. Yhan pulls away after a few moments, panting heavily. His heart pounds in his chest, matching the rhythm of his throbbing cock.

"You're really something else, sweetheart", he whispers hoarsely, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair, "You've got me all worked up..." Your eyes shimmer with unspoken desire as you meet Yhan's intense gaze. You lick your lips, his taste lingering there.

You place a hand on his broad chest, letting your fingers trail lightly down the tight-fitting material of his shirt. "Is that so?", you speak back softly, but the slight teasing lilt of your voice is not lost on him as you begin to regain your usual demeanor. Yhan captures your wandering hand in his with a slight smirk, "There she is... Thought you were gonna stay all shy on me."

You give him a pointed look that just looks way too cute to him, "I'm not shy." With a hoarse chuckle, Yhan releases you hand only to slide his hands down over your ass, squeezing firmly as he lifts you off the ground. The loss of balance forces you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist with a sharp intake of breath, your pretty little skirt now all bunched up around your own waist.

The tip of his nose brushes up against yours as he speaks in a murmur, "Then prove it, sweetheart." His hot breath sends another wave of tingles down your spine, "Show me just how wild you can be..." Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in another passionate kiss. Your tongue darting out to meet his in a risky pursuit.

Your hands move up to cradle his head, fingers tangling into his grey-streaked hair, holding him in place while you pour all your pent-up desires into this moment. The taste of him and your body pressed up against his large form has you reeling. Yhan groans deeply into the kiss, his own body trembling with desire as you keep him close.

His hands squeeze your ass tighter, rutting his hips up into you as his cock throbs wildly with need in his pants. Yhan can feel himself losing control, all rational thought flying out the door, but the sensation of you is too damn good for him to care.

Breaking away from the kiss, he trails his lips down your jawline to your neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh, his facial hair scratching the skin softly. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy....", he growls against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. You can't contain the sweet moan that falls from your lips as he continues to tease your sensitive flesh with his lips and teeth.

You squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal pool between your legs as he rolls his hips up against your clothed core yet again. "O-oh gods... Yhan... I need more", you plead desperately as you tug at his hair. Yhan grins devilishly as one hand moves from your ass, sliding between your legs til his fingers make contact with your covered pussy.

"Something like this?", Yhan teases, his finger sliding over your covered clit in slow circles, feeling the wetness seeping through the fabric of your panties and onto his fingers. You gasp sharply, your body arching involuntarily as Yhan's finger finds its mark. The sudden touch sending jolts of pleasure straight through you.

"Oh fuck... Yes... Just like that", you whimper, biting down on your lip to suppress your lewd noises. Despite the risk of this situation, you can't help but grind against his fingers, desperate to feel his touch without the barrier. Yhan lets out a low chuckle at your desperation, his finger continuing to trace over your clit.

He can feel the heat radiating from your pussy, making his own arousal twitch painfully, begging to be let out. "You're so fucking wet.... Does this turn you on, sweetheart? Having an older man touch you like this, hmm?", Yhan's voice is husky with lust as he speaks.

His words have your eyes rolling back as you hump against his touch. Just the fact that this gruff older man, the object of your dirty fantasies, was touching you so intimately has you more turned on than you cared to admit. "Ngh... Please.... Need you inside me...", you beg as your cunt clenches at the thought.

Yhan's smirk grows wider, halting his touch only to brush his fingers against the side of your soaked panties. He moves the fabric to the side, the tips of his calloused fingers find your soaked hole, letting the juices drip onto his digits. He eases two fingers inside your tight, wet walls, immediately curling them up against that sweet spot inside you that has you moaning so lewdly.

He gives a low groan of satisfaction at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers as you whine for him. "You like that, pretty girl?", he whispers huskily into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of your needy cunt.

You moan loudly, you head falling forward against Yhan's shoulder as his fingers plunge into you. You body instinctively bucking against his hand, seeking more friction. "Oh gods... Yes, yes... Don't stop", you pant, grinding against his hand desperately.

Your legs tighten around his waist, your clit rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. "Fuck... I'm gonna cum if you keep going", you warn breathlessly, already feeling the familiar coils of pleasure tighening in your lower belly.

Yhan lets out a strained groan, his fingers working overtime to bring you over the edge. "Then let go, sweetheart... Cum for me", he coaxes, his cheek pressed against the top of your head as you continue to lean on him in his hold with your cunt clenching around his thick fingers.

Your body practically convulses as an intense orgasm washes over you. Slick juices soak his fingers as your walls pulsate around them as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you. You cry out for him, but instead of his name, you call him something else. Something that has him almost cumming in his pants like some virgin teenage boy.

"Ngh fuuuuck, daddy!"

Yhan freezes momentarily, your words sending a jolt of arousal to his throbbing, aching cock. "Daddy...?", he repeats softly, pulling his soaked digits out of you. At the sight of your flushed cheeks and wide eyes, he smirks, brown eyes full of pure lust. He brings his wet fingers to your lips, pressing against them to get you to open up.

You comply, taking the soaked digits into your mouth as you suck on them obediently, tasting yourself on your tongue. Yhan huffs out a dark chuckle, "You want daddy to fuck you, sweetheart?" You nod, taking his fingers deeper into your mouth, humming appreciatively around the digits before pulling off with a wet pop.

"Please...", you beg quietly, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. Yhan raises a brow, speaking low, "Please, what?" You bite your lip, heat coursing through you as he coaxes you to say that cute little title again, "Please...daddy..." His lips twitch up when you comply, "Good girl… Now hold onto me tightly."

You do as you're told, clinging to his muscular form as he releases his hold on your ass to quickly undo his thick belt. The belt clatters to the floor, the sound echoing in the empty training room. Yhan makes quick work of the button and zipper of his pants, tugging them down just enough to free his aching length.

His leaking cock smacks against your ass beneath you, twitching in anticipation. The sight of the trimmed black hair on his pelvis makes you wish he was fully stripped down. Gods know how delicious that happy trail must be on his lower abdomen, let alone the hair you bet covers his huge chest. Yhan grabs hold of your thighs, making you raise your legs in his arms as he folds you against him, allowing your slick heat to be fully exposed to him.

He adjusts his hips so his hard cock aligns with your entrance before pausing, looking deep into your eyes, "There's no going back from this, sweetheart. Tell me you want this...." You swallow hard, thinking back to all those restless nights where you relentlessly rubbed your clit to the thought of Yhan taking you. Your lips graze his as you lean forward, "Please fill me with your cock, daddy..."

Yhan's eyes almost roll back at your words as he groans. Not wanting to waste any more time, he plunges into your tight, welcoming heat, making you cry out so beautifully in both pleasure and surprise. He growls through gritted teeth, his features scrunched up in intense pleasure as he savors every bit of your hot, velvety cunt around his shaft, "Fuck.... My sweet girl... So fucking tight for me..."

Your pretty, kissed lips part in a delicious moan, the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out drives you insane. Your juices coating his length as he bottoms out inside of you, "Nghhhh.. Daddy.." Your walls tighten around his shaft rhythmically, milking his dick as he stays buried inside you.

Yhan grunts as he begins to thrust up, keeping your legs up in his arms. Each powerful thrust drives him deeper into your tight, wet hole, eliciting husky moans from both of you. Primal lust paints Yhan's features, his nostrils flaring as he drinks in the intoxicating scent of sex and sweat that filled the air.

"You love my cock, don't you, babydoll. Come on, I wanna hear you beg for more", he growls, thrusting up with harsh force as his heavy balls slapped against your ass. Your nails dig into his shoulders, only the fabric of his tight shirt keeping them from piercing his skin as you cling to him.

"Please... More, daddy. Fuck me harder-ngh!", you mewl as he fucks up into you. Yhan grunts in satisfaction, his thrusts becoming even more aggressive as you beg for more. "You're taking all of it, aren't you sweetheart...", he pants, his voice hoarse with lust and admiration.

You nod feverishly, cute mewls falling from your lips. Feeling Yhan's cock throbbing inside you, coupled with the intense pleasure building within her, you can't hold back any longer. Your gummy walls tighten around his shaft as you cry out in ecstasy, your whole body trembling, "Fuck, daddy! 'm cumming!"

Your inner muscles spasm, milking his cock as waves of pleasure consume you. Yhan knows he can't last much longer as his balls tighten up, his eyes rolling back as gruff groans crawl up from his throat. "Oh, fuck... That's it, babydoll... So fucking good...", he moans, body shuddering as his grip tightens.

His entire body tenses as he hits his peak, his voice growling out all low and gravelly, "Shit, gonna fill this tight pussy..." Yhan's hips jerk erratically as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss ripples through him, shooting his load deep inside of you.

Panting heavily, Yhan moves his hips back, withdrawing his spent cock from your quivering pussy. The combined juices leak and drip out onto the floor of the training room, tainting the place with their forbidden sin. Carefully, he lets you down, keeping a firm hold on your waist as you stand on shaky legs.

Your skirt falls back into place and your panties slip back over your well-fucked cunt, the remaining liquid soaking the material. Despite your dazed look, you manage a tired smirk, "Didn't think you had it in you, old man~"

Yhan scoffs a laugh as he tucks himself back into his pants, amused at how fast you were bouncing back to your teasing attitude, "Old man, huh? That's some tough talk for a girl who just got fucked into oblivion by this old man. Guess you really needed someone older to make you feel this good~" You huff out a breath, acting annoyed but unable to hide the amusement on your face as he teases back.

He reaches out, capturing your jaw in his hand, his brown eyes locked on yours with a smirk, "Besides, I thought my title was daddy now, babydoll~" Heat rises to your cheeks, this all felt so wrong but so fucking right... Your lips curl up into a mischievous smile, gripping his wrist as he lets you pull his hand from your jaw.

You bring his fingers to your mouth, tongue licking slowly up the digits before sucking them between your pretty lips. His eyes flash with desire at your lewd display, feeling his cock stir again in his pants. You pull away, smirking as you go up on your toes, you breath fanning over his lips, "Next time.. Make me scream for you... daddy~"

Stepping back from him, you turn and walk towards the exit of the training room, hips swaying in an enticing display. Yhan's gaze trails over your retreating figure, running his fingers through his hair and letting out a breath as he contemplates everything that had happened. His cock twitches again, there was no going back now, "Next time... Fuck...."

⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨ৎ⫘౨

a/n: great googly moogly, when will it be my tuuuurrrrnnnn😵‍💫

[lychniis]

⚘ — YOUR FATE : BOUND IN KNOTS // ZHONGLI.

i. SYNOPSIS : shibari was an artform in your hands, and zhongli your willing model. but hemp ropes, you learn, could barely tie down a dragon provoked. ( aka, my first pwp attempt someone help meee. )

ii. WARNINGS : 5.5k wc. reposted from my alt account. afab ! reader, shibari / rope tying, bondage, dom ! zhongli, sub ! reader, reader and zhongli downbad for each other ( help ), no assigned pronouns but the reader has a vagina, edging, some slight brat taming if you squint, slow sex because zhongli is old and likes taking his time, doggy style / prone bone. reader i tied guys and frustrated and a bit of a gremlin.

this work has been marked mature. readers below the age of 18 / ageless blogs, do not interact. any individual who is not a legal adult or has an age indicator on their page will be blocked without further notice.

# masterlist

THERE IS AN INTIMACY IN THE WAY Zhongli acts around you — between the delicate touches he shares to the comfortable silences spent at home.

There is an intimacy in the way he whispers your name, in how he looks at you ( and his eyes, they light up and they’re the most beautiful thing ), in how he smiles that small smile.

There is an intimacy in Zhongli you knew, locked away in jars as keepsakes to remember.

You liken him to art, in that sense. There were those small similarities, to the deeper nuances within every stroke and the little bursts of imperfections — a smudged spot, a shaky line — you could see if you squint a little closer. And you do, staring at him when you could, taking him in, taking everything in. 

Sometimes you wonder if you could ever emulate all that on paper. The way his nose slopes, or the way his lips curl. You wonder if you could write it down with the justice it deserves, or paint out the heaviness in his gaze and the contours on his face ( six thousand years worth of it ). 

You doubt it; not when mortal hands could hardly scrape the surface. Zhongli says the minds of humans were fascinating things, zipping and bouncing and thinking things too fast, too quick and people could only struggle to keep up with them. 

You find yourself feeling the same way. 

It wasn’t sexual, your initial request. You liked trying out new things, and rope tying found its way to be one of them. The Inazuman who provided the classes called it kinbaku and he taught you and a few interested onlookers the basics over a workshop tucked away in the quieter streets by the harbor — knots, ties, how to tighten and loosen rope and how to undo it all. He taught basic safety and the best materials to use, and hygiene and treatment. It took a week, maybe two, perhaps a few days more.

Then you return home, and bask in your newfound knowledge in the lonesome times of the day, where your thoughts are a little louder. You itch to show it off and it gnaws at the back of your mind with reckless insistence. The rope you impulsively bought was tucked away at the back of the closet with everything else that best stays from unwanted eyes. Even Zhongli didn’t know of it till you mustered up a bit of courage and pulled the bag out.

“Can I try it on you?” you ask Zhongli as he takes the rope and tests it between his hands. His gaze is thoughtful, curious and he tilts his head at the question. “I just want to try out some of the techniques I learned.” you add quickly in a moment of fluster. You do not understand why your cheeks felt so hot. But Zhongli was beautiful, and as a canvas — well you would rather not let your thoughts head there.

( Breathe. This is fine, breathe.

Something deep inside you screams viscerally. You smack it away and cover it up with a metaphorical carpet. There, all gone. )

“I’ve heard of shibari in passing through the centuries. Considering you have a little more knowledge on it than I…why not?” He hands you the rope with a hint of a smile. There is expectancy there, and a flash of something else. You falter just a little ( you know what you saw, you did ). 

Oh.

Oh so you really were doing this.

It’s just for aesthetics. You slap yourself internally and take the rope, watching Zhongli glide the bed with an effortless sort of grace. It’s mesmerizing to look at sometimes, how he feels akin to something ungraspable, immaterial like cloudy whisps or the mountain mist in the break of dawn. But there was solidity too. There was the tremor, the sound of footfalls, the way the mattress sinks beneath him; real, there, present.

Zhongli beckons you to come close. He rests his chin on his hand and there is amusement set awash. “Is something wrong?” Yes, you feel hot all over. 

“Love, I do not doubt your capabilities one bit. But I doubt you could tie me up from all the way there.”

You blink. “Right! Right.” you mumble and shuffle forth, watching him unbutton his coat, his waistcoat, his gloves. With the layers being stripped down to his bare torso and pants, and his eyes lidded in a languid — almost imperious — stare, you begin.

A diamond harness first, something that can tie his arms as well. It’s a simpler one for the struggling novice that is you and the mistakes were easier to unmake ( you do not want to think of the potential catastrophes of trapping him in shibari hell. The humiliation would be horrific ). “You’ll let me know if it gets uncomfortable, right?”

“I highly doubt anything could deter me.” he quotes solemnly in turn. 

“Now you’re just joking.” you kiss his cheek and he has the audacity to chuckle, nose brushing up against yours with fond nuzzling in store. You feel your chest fill with far too much at once ( it’s warm and exasperating and you love every bit of it ).

“It’s you.” he says instead, and there is a sincere weight to it. “And I fail to see why I shouldn’t trust you, dear heart.”

He kisses your wrist and stays still, letting you weave the rope around him. A column tie, a few tugs, a mistake, undoing it all and starting over. You furrow your brows as you work and you let yourself slip into the task with every bit of thought pouring into it like a vat of water. You shift around Zhongli, lean in close and fail to notice how he stiffens beneath your touch. Maybe if your head wasn’t so far into the clouds, you might have.

Zhongli is watching you while you work. This, you notice, for his rapt attention holds an intensity that burns holes in most. You feel a little mousy and slow your movements. You realize taking your time was a wiser choice. Ah, you learn something every day.

Your fingers press up against his palm as you bind his arms down, carefully tugging his hair out of the way lest it get caught. Your knuckles graze the column of his neck — the contact fleeting, a wingbeat. You glance at him. He was steadily getting warmer to the touch and you could see his ears flush scarlet. “Are you okay?” you, concern settling fast. You maneuver in front of him with a position a little too awkward for you to be comfortable.

There was hunger in his gaze. The first glimpse of a dragon prodded and poked too much. The bells in your mind let out their tolls ( it’s resonant, loud ) and you almost speak up. Then it is gone and he looks upon you with placid reassurance. A slate wiped clean. A beast laid to rest.

“I am fine. You may continue.” Your fingers tighten around his arm for a nervous moment. You search his face, the marks beneath his eyes for scales or flashes of fang beneath his lips. None. Your shoulders sag.

“Alright.” you almost sound disappointed; but really, what did you expect? Your boundaries were drawn and Zhongli would stand by them as he always done. He is a darling for that, so you let it be. The frustration sparking inside your chest aches like a flash burn. A painful moment before it dissolves.

The final band was knotted in place and you step back with a sigh, proud of your new accomplishments. It took well over half an hour to finish with, and a bit more rope than you expected. Two whole pieces, with the rest 

“Is it too tight?”

“No.” he sounds breathless. “It’s fine.”

You tug at the rope, testing the tautness and reason that he is fine. Then you tilt his chin up, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Thank you for being patient.” you add gratefully, adjusting a few wonky binds by hand. You take him in — really take him in this time.

The trembling beneath your chest is a deluge of many things at once. The more fleeting fancies as you rove his form. The more palpable ones, like the awe that surfaces. The forbidden little scraps of smugness, for fettering a god like this is hardly a sight oft witnessed ( and yet you did it, despite that ). 

He is beautiful. 

It makes your heart squeeze. Your touches are innocent, explorative, tracing the indents of flesh, how muscle sinks beneath tight knots. The struggle, the errors, the silly slip ups seemed a far away annoyance with the results at hand. It was worth the wait, and the classes and the sinking embarrassment and that first damning step asking him for his time. A greedy part of you wants to drink him in forever, keep this moment trapped in time for your own guilty pleasures. 

You touch and touch and touch, a vessel of curiosity and admiration. He shudders. His eyes squeeze shut and he looks wound up, like a bowstring, like something was gripping too hard at the edges.

“Zhongli…Zhongli are you certain you’re all right?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.” You lean closer and check. Perhaps through the feverish daze you lost yourself in, you missed something. Maybe there was an uncomfortable knot. Maybe the wrists were tied too tight. There are many things you could think of and the heat of Zhongli’s breath on your neck is what draws you back immediately with a widened gaze.

There were a rare few who could tug at Zhongli’s stringed patience and suffer little consequence, partly due to the seemingly endless reserves of it he holds much like the gold he bleeds. The other end of the matter was simple closeness; Hu Tao with her youthful impishness and eccentricities, Cloud Retainer who’d nag him as an old, old friend and you, who holds his heart with mortal hands and him, your own.

And in his eyes, you see those threads snap.

“Untie me.”

You nip down on your lips. You know that look. You know where this is going and hot blooded excitement stirs inside. 

“What will you do to me if I listen?” 

If he were free, you’d like to think he’d have grabbed you then, given your hips a rough squeeze, let out a tense growl. “You know well, dear heart. Now, untie me.” 

The order leaves no room for argument. You nod your most obedient nod and undo your work. You wish you could have witnessed it a little longer; but when the ropes finally fall away, Zhongli pulls you closer, and you feel heat beneath your fingertips when you steady yourself. It’s like a forge fire, fed with an intent to fold iron and melt steel. 

He’s touching you everywhere, stealing kisses that you think could swallow you whole. Your clothes are tugged away one by one. You have no time or need to bask in shame. Zhongli made sure to tear that down a long time ago.

“Stay still now,” he whispers.

He starts tying you up. There is a lump of excitement that grows in your throat. You give him tips, pointers and he’s quick to learn from instruction and observation alone. As the moments tick by and your bare skin kisses the cool sheets below you, Zhongli takes his time, like he’s partaking in the finest of indulgences.

You try not to focus too much on the growing heat between your legs or Zhongli’s heated stare. The bustle on the street draws your attention — the clamor, the stalls, the distant opera performance. You recognize that dulcet tune and the flush to your cheeks ebbs away.

Then his fingers dip down and stroke your cunt.

“Eyes on me.” he demands. You yelp, feeling a jolt streak through. The final knot is tightened and he turns you over like a man starved. Zhongli favored many dishes in his feasts, delicacies that ranged between eloquent tastes and visual delights. He regards you with that same gleam. You part your lips. “Hm…how enticing.”

Your eyes flutter shut, resisting the urge to dig into the sheets with a bratty scowl. “Zhongli.” you breathe. “Will you touch me?”

He tilts his head, his smile teasing. “Where?” he asks, grazing your stomach, your thighs, your calves. You cannot muffle out the mewl you let out, arms bound fast. You tug at the ropes. They burn a bit, barring any movement. It’s frustrating and it’s arousing and you want to taste more. 

“You know where.” you snap back, legs coming to part.

He touches the inside of your thigh, sun catching gold and his glamored markings. “Here?” He tests, needle point attentiveness drinking in how you squirm, how you pant and shake your head with a vexed bite to your lips. 

“No. higher. A little higher.” you can feel the dampness pool down. You know he can sense it too, his cheeks dyed a soft pink. Still, he grazes away from where you want him, and you scratch at the hemp fibers with little success as he only just traces over your outer labia and settles just below your navel. 

Your toes curl inwards and you give him a playful, antagonizing kick to his knee. “I think you’re trying to tear me apart.” you declare, till your voice catches and shifts to a subdued squeak as he grabs the intruding foot and hauls your lower half onto his lap ( and you’re taken easily, heart set aflutter ). The exposed vulnerability, the way he spreads your legs apart, it jars you.

“Indulge me.” he purrs his assurance, pressing up to the soft flesh of your thigh. You feel his arousal graze your back, clothes yet impossibly hard. 

A twitch, a shuddering gasp; you grind up into his stomach in a demand to proceed.

Indulgence, in Zhongli’s words, is a slow process of perceiving, savoring and reacting. He tells you so as he pours expensive teas in cups of clay, steel or porcelain and has you smell the aromas and still your nerves to a slowed tempo. Indulgence, it’s a word that feels like saccharine honey, like something rich and syrupy that messes your tongue and weighs it down. 

Perhaps, his favorite part of it was savoring the bite. Feasts are feasts, tea is tea and pleasure is pleasure — every moment of enjoying it is deserving of its own pace. 

It is madness.

He’s moved you once more, resting your back against his chest where his heartbeat is a deafening  rumble to your ears. It speeds up every time you let out a moan, rabbiting through with unbridled excitement and strained patience. Yet…yet he keeps himself together. It’s unfair, how he plays his cards and tilts them away when you beg for a view. 

“Zhongli.” you mumble, heavy beneath the haze. You gave up trying to fight your bonds. The rope is of good quality and is stronger than it seems. You curse yourself for that choice, after the swift regression of your initial intention. Breaking free felt like such a far off dream. Zhongli replies with a curious hum and a tilt to his head. His hands cup at your breasts, tweaking at your nipples, pinching, prodding in silent demand. 

It flares up, that annoyance. You want to touch him, to drag your nails across his pectorals and feel that heartbeat beneath your palm. You want to claw at his back as he fucks you into the bed. You want so, so much and it’s building inside in numbers and need. It;s spilling over the edges. You want to cry ( it feels so good ).

A gasp. He presses his teeth to your shoulder, leaving deep indents into your collar. It will bruise in the future, but you care little, whimpering as veins rupture and pain steeps into the pleasure. Your mind sinks into a hazy delight, all cotton and clouds and tartness — and the safety of Zhongli’s arms around you while he touches all he could. 

“I think you’re being — AH — petty…” you could hardly articulate. But you’re greedy. You want more. It’s a neediness that slowly creeps up and tangles into your chest like a network of vines. He could have you however he pleased, in whatever position he wishes. You just want him to cease his teasing. You want to feel the burn of his skin, to bite, to mark him yourself. 

“Am I?” he asks, feigning innocence, grinding his hips up into your heat. Your mouth falls open but the sound that escapes is strained. “I suppose I am in need of some introspection, yes? Would you like to aid me, little love?”

You headbutt his jaw gently with a garbled ‘no’, your breaths outpaced. You have a thousand trapped butterflies battering in your ribs. Zhongli lets out a sharp breath, a muffled laugh ( you catch sight of his face. The amused crinkle in his eyes. The smile that threatens to show ). 

He sates your offense with a kiss, deep, slow, soft till tongue laves away at the seam of your lips and you let him in. Your debauched whine is cut short; he pulls you closer with a hunger patience cannot hide, close, so close till your chest is flush against him. He pulls away, wet lips leaving a damp trail of kisses down your neck, your chest, nipping at your nipples with a pleased huff. 

“Is this alright?” he asks, stopping to look at you.

“If you’re not going to tease me anymore.” you mumble. “Then yes.” 

“Noted.” he has the audacity to look cheeky as he pulls at a knot and snaps it back in place. You yip, dragging against his shaft and the hiss Zhongli slips out is music in the midst of cacophony. That bit of control is reined back quickly, however. Zhongli knows how to tune out the best noises and play your notes into a sifting melody. He learns fast and he learns diligently and he knows where to drag those knots and have you fold into him with pathetic little moans. 

He lays you back, fingers splayed along your knees as he parts your legs and slots himself between them with a thoughtful sigh, taking you in once more. “You’re beautiful.” he tells you, with all the sweet sincerity in the world. You’d be a fool to call him a liar when he looks so smitten. “I should buy a kamera one day. I’d like photos of you.”

Your cheeks heat. “You would?” you ask, feeling warm, fuzzy and your core clenches around emptiness. 

He casts you a puzzled glance. “Why wouldn’tI?” he asks, as if the idea was not a compromising slip, rather an innocent request. “Wouldn’t you want some of me?” he dips down, kissing your thighs and he’s smirking against skin. You jolt, cry out ( “Zhongli!” ) and turn your face into the soft pillows in anticipation.

A kiss. “I know you loved seeing me tied up.'' His taunts are effective. Your mind claws into that fantasy like a feral beast. It pleasures in it, delight lining its panting. You did like seeing him tied up. “And I'm certain you wouldn’t object to a few photos of me.” Another kiss. He was close. So close. You feel sensitive, so sensitive and you want, want, want.

Silence.  

His pause goads you to finally meet gilded amber. “It could be a dirty secret…a private contract if you will.” 

You scream.

His tongue was hot, hot against you and you didn’t quite expect the rawness you felt or how wet you were for him. You couldn’t move much and his hold on your hips is an unfaltering thing. He doesn’t wish to be disturbed while he feasts, licking away at your slick till you fumble beneath him.

“MmmMH, m-more.” you groan. You’d have liked to grab at his hair, tug at it a little while you try to catch your breath, every bit of you frazzled and coming apart at the seams. Zhongli huffs, pulls you closer and kisses your clit, then your entrance, drunk in his own way. You see control come away. He’s close to snapping and you shift and press your cunt into his mouth, a craving to watch it shatter. 

“How impatient. How impertinent.”

Zhongli’s coo stills any misbehavior. He eats at you, sucking, nibbling, licking away at all the spots that unravel your being. You mold into his hands like soft clay, and he shapes you, lets you set, pulling away for a few teasing moments before returning to a mix of slick and saliva and a mess that he ( for all his poise and elegance ) revels in. 

There is lust there, a need, a contentment over this. Indulgence, indulgence in its finest form and Zhongli savors the feast with intent and little shame. Some may call him a fool, for a god to fall so far. But he was a god no longer and what were mortals, really, with no desires of theirs to chase?

A finger slips in. You curl up, lifting a leg over his shoulder with a needy, desperate keen. He is careful, delicate, languid and maybe a little cruel in his slow pace. In the far reaches of your lost thoughts, you’re reminded of your first time, where the sting was a little more painful and a little less easy. It’s one of Zhongli’s quiet prides, how the two of you learned to take each other so well, like magnets to metal. His digit sinks into you easily and he passes a pleased lift to his lips.

“N-no more teasing, right?” you ask, voice muffled by the pillows.

“No more teasing.” he promises. “At least, not for tonight.”

You roll your eyes and turn to strain your neck. Zhongli understands, moving up to seal it with a kiss and returns below, beginning his slow thrusts in and out and in. You moan unobstructed, just for him, him to remember. It’s too little yet too much at the same time, a paradox in a paradox of pleasure. You want more. You gasp into the air when he curls into that spot, dragging himself lazily through the motions.

He bends down, takes your clit in his tongue and one finger becomes two.

The restrictive bonds around you, the ones he tugs from time to time dig down hard. You hope they leave marks, reminders. You hope Zhongli looks at them as he bathes you and asks for more. His pace is still slow, but he thrusts hard, taking care to keep his strength tempered through want. It batters you. You love it. You love it so much.

Good. good, you want more.

“Yes…” you sob. “Ah…yes…love, my love…” 

He shudders, flicking your clit with his tongue, keeping his fingers at pace, slick and saliva coating his lips. Zhongli spreads your legs just a little more, pulling you up at an angle with far better reach. Your nerves are abuzz. Everything is and your release is achingly close. He promised he wouldn’t tease you, that you know and you wait, you chase, you cry out with no hands to mute yourself. 

His fingers stretch you out and strokes at your sweet spot with a persistent passion. Your hips jolt and twitch and shudder then you release and Zhongli takes it in, continuing to slide in and out of you. Your trembling as that rope snaps and he pulls out, licking at his fingers and rubbing at your sides soothingly.

“Mh. good.” he praises. “You did well. So well.” 

“I want more.” you choke out between the garbled tears and your lightheadedness. 

Zhongli kisses your cheek. “I know.” he assures you. “Comfort first. You’re exhausted. Would you like me to untie you?” You shake your head. You want to keep the helplessness close. You like the flavor of it. Zhongli hums. “Alright. And you remember our safe word?” He kisses your nape as he carefully turns you over, belly down. 

He loosens some of the knots and pushes some pillows below you for your ease. The fabric is cool beneath your touch, a medley of silks and cottons that you take in. They all smell like him, like sandalwood and tea. He presses against you flush, free hand unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. He doesn’t remove them all the way. You think his control has slipped too far for that.

And that draws a tired, smug smile from you. Zhongli nips the shell of your ear in teasing response. Don’t get too cocky, he seems to say. You won’t, you assure him. 

“Spread your legs.” he instructs. You obey, twitching and shaking. He shifts a thigh in and chuckles. “Wider.” 

“Wider?” you repeat.

“Wider.” he nods and you do so. He settles between you easier and you stay open and exposed, fists clenching uselessly behind you. Zhongli places a hand there, lacing your fingers with his own. You feel him against your leg. He’s hard, so hard and your mouth waters for it as you hungrily hold his hand for dear life, hoping to be grounded lest your bones give way and you float out of this body while in wait. 

A moment, then another. His comfort eases your muscles into relaxation. You feel his tip slide past your outer lips. It nudges your clit ( and there it was, that pressure slowly building in the bit of your stomach like a rope near snapping ). You pant, bury your face into the sheets and wait, wait for him to move. The tiny sparks were enough to send you reeling. It was liquid want that boils your veins now. 

“You said you won’t tease me.” you accuse. Your voice pitches to something hysterical. You want to tug at his hair, his ponytail, anything, but you settle with his fingers and try not to think about gently gnawing at them if it means he ceases whatever…this is. You’re going to crumble to dust if he keeps this up — you’re sure of it. 

“I’m not.” he states, blinking and he’s smiling, this bastard. 

“I’ll bite you.” you swear. “I’ll fucking bite you if you keep this up.”

“Bite me then.” He seems distracted till he lowers his head by your ear. It tickles, the proximity and you instinctively flinch away. “Do that and I'll see to a fitting punishment.” 

You could do it now. But punishments mean scraping away the nicer things in favor of twisting pleasure into torture. You loved your share of masochism on days when your mind was abuzz and too jittery. Now, you want him inside you. You want to rest. You want Zhongli.

He knows. He moves a bit of hair away from your forehead. “Are you relaxed?” he asks, beginning his gradual push into you. Your lips part into a wordless keen. He kisses your cheek. “Alright.” A whisper. You can hear the shudder, the softest tremble in his voice.

Zhongli is diligent when it comes to preparing you. Maybe that is why he isn’t too fond of quicker sessions behind the scenes, where the strain from taking his cock was a little harsher than he’d have liked. He holds you close now, slipping through the cracks and you think he might bleed into you with how close you’re borne to him. “Easy now…” he soothes a sting. He rubs your arm and kisses your neck. “You take me so well, see?”

You wonder what you look like, beneath him, to bring forth that flush to his cheeks. To watch him tremble, reel with lust. 

( You look like art.

To Zhongli, he likens you to wine, to pleasant summer nights, and the comforting things that make his old heart squeeze. He likens you to home, to the human moments, the tinier flashes that remind him of love and loss and chip away at the stone that ages him.

You’re beneath him now. He’s seen this sight before. But oh, to watch you fall apart and tremble with lust and adoration, into a beautiful sort of mess stirs something primal deep inside. It always wins, even by a hair’s breadth or a long margin. Zhongli knows the dangers of it but he could never truly control himself around you. You’ve ensnared him that way, wholly, completely. 

Zhongli finds solace in it. He lets it constrict his heart. For you are you and he loves you. )

He bottoms out. He’s deep so deep and the sheets fall prey to your teeth and block away the desperation and the whimpers. He buries your nose into your neck. “Qīn ài de.” he mumbles. “Call me that again.”

You tilt your head. Your cheeks burn but there is tenderness in your eyes. “My love.” you whisper.

Zhongli grits his teeth, following it by rolling his hips into you. The sudden thrust nearly knocks the wind out of your lungs. You buck back into him in turn, mumbling out keening, unintelligible nonsense. “Again.” he mumbles. He sounds drunk. You shut your eyes between the tears and the moans. 

“L-love. Zhongli, m-my love — ” it’s an echo. You could barely manage stringing it together. Zhongli’s lips part. He shuts his eyes in bliss, his movements slow, careful but hard in ways that make your teeth rattle and your limbs feel boneless. He mouths open kisses at your neck, your back. 

You press up into the mattress, fucked into it with little mercy yet so much raw affection in how he holds you. There are so many things you want to say. The words could not form. You keep them to yourself. His hands grope down, fingers slotting between your legs. The mess you leave behind is pooling, dripping into the sheets. You feel shame sting at your ears. Zhongli does not care.

“You’ve been good.” he utters into your neck as he cants his hips. You let out a broken sound the moment he drags it against your sweet spot, and he takes it onto himself to gently peel you apart and let pleasure still your senses and every pore inside you. You’re pinned down, you let him use you as he pleases. He devours that chance and he devours you. “Mine, my qingxin.” 

“Yours.” you sob. “Yours.” you’re full. Full of him, full of cock, and you let it consume every bit of you, down to flesh, down to bone. He touches your clit, sensitive, sore and you scream into the sheets, sob, beg — for what, you have no clue of it. You jerk at the binds and his free hand curls round the rope, tugging you up into him, raking across indented skin with a famished groan.

Zhongli thrusts. He thrusts into you, and his tempo stays steady and his face stays flushed. That peak however, it approaches fast and easy, with how you’re being worn down by his sweet words. His hand finds yours again. You give it a squeeze and glance at him through the tears. “Z-Zhongli.” you sob. “Zhongli.”

“I know.” Zhongli does not slow. You’re going to crumble. Your foundations will weather. You’ll be air perhaps, or dust. It feels that way. “Come. Come for me, love.”

You don’t immediately. Not yet and he strokes your clit harder, faster, aiding where he can till that pressure comes loose and you slump into the pillows and sheets with a garbled moan, twitching, writhing. One of his hands rests at your side and the other steadies your form. He continues to thrust, quicker, sloppier, the noises he makes are messy and obscene and wet and you’re left so so sensitive and it feels so good —

“I love you.” You slip out.

He kisses you. Hungry. Tender. Everything at once. His weight is a comfort against it all. You shut your eyes. He continues to fuck you, well into overstimulation till your mind is foggy with little thought. At some odd point, as the fuzziness clears, you think you feel him groan and twitch, then something hot and wet spilling onto your back. 

The ropes fall undone. The harness constricting your chest, your arms. He rubs down the burns and massages any sore spots. “Was it too much?”

You shake your head.

He coos. Zhongli loves taking care of you and you let him, feeling his weight shift and a cool cloth wipe you down. Water is next, as is the routine, sipped as you seat yourself on his lap and he kisses your shoulders and the bruises. You feed him a slice of sunsettia before having one for yourself. Then some of the apples. It’s sweet. It’s comfort. 

He leans his head into your neck. “We need more rope.” he mumbles.

“More rope?” you gawk.

“I could choose colors that suit you better.” a pause. “And we need a kamera.” he adds. Now you’re gaping.

“Zhongli, Zhongli I adore you but the mora — ”

“I’ll have Northland Bank foot the bill. They have plenty.” cheeky bastard. He kisses you. “Let this old man enjoy the little things, love. Or would you consider adding it to my list of birthday presents?”

Oh, this man. You sink down and finish your sunsettia slice. You take one more, pressing it to his lips. He takes a bite. Chews thoughtfully.

“I’ll consider it.” you sniff. ( “How haughty.” he croons into your neck. You shake your head. ) “Maybe I might just buy one for you.”

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

*screams* after the upheaval of my smut alt...yeah i thought of reposting here for the sake of comprehension XD. so don;t panic guys. it's right here. *praying that i don't get nuked*.

many thanks to the sweet comments i received in the old post and all the reblogs. really, you guys are igfghjk.

taglist — @silentmoths @crystalflygeo @moraxsthrone @silkjade @meimeimeirin @euniveve @sheepmc @chiyoso @timeofsilversstuff @francisnyx @laughterofthetombs @ollieink @localplaguenurse

AINE | lychniis. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[celestiamour]

₊˚✧ ❛[ every baby needs a da-da-daddy ]❜

ft. hugh jackman x f! reader — rpf

╰₊✧ some sweet softie who enjoys being home his baby little diamond toys┊1.2k words

song: every baby needs a da da daddy - marilyn monroe contains: no disrespect to hugh, this is purely fictional!! sugar daddy hugh & sugar baby reader, no smut, unspecified age gap, mentions of insecurity 

➤ author's note: happy late birthday to the daddiest of daddies & the dilfiest of dilfs! this is my first hit at writing rpf, so it might not be very good, but it was still fun to write! i’m not sure if rpf is something i’ll write again, but who knows!

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who you kept at arm’s length at first, resisting the charms and allure of an older man who promised to treat you right and seat you in his lap of luxury. you’ve never been in such a relationship before (although you’ve always entertained it), much less being with an actor with as much renown as he did, so you tried putting him off by insisting you would only accept princess treatment and wouldn’t take anything short of the best. being a little bit of a brat would either put him off because he’s too old to deal with that or entice him even more with the challenge, and he’s obviously the latter because he would be more than willing to buy you an entire castle if you wished for it. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who quickly figures out that everything you were saying before didn’t hold any weight as you’ll feel guilty if he does something as small as being a gentleman who pays for your half of the meal, so you’re just going to have to get used to being spoiled. he might even encourage you to quit your shitty underpaid day job with all the rude customers and pursue something you’re actually interested in, whether that’s becoming an artist of any sort or seeking out high education to get the qualifications for your dream job, he’s more than willing to provide for you while you work towards your goals and will reward you every time you accomplish one of them. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who often needs to leave early for work, so when you wake up in your shared bed, you’ll find a few notifications on your phone: the first being a few hundred dollars he sent for you to treat yourself while he’s gone, the second being a cute dad selfie of the place he’s at, and the third being a message wishing you a good morning with the reminder for you to take care of yourself and that he loves you. if he’s traveling for a press tour, then he’ll give you the option to go with him or not because he knows it can be exhausting, but he’s willing to fly you out to his location at the drop of a hat because he constantly misses you so much.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who likes to take you out for fancy dinners every now and then, but he really prefers to stay in and make home-cooked meals with you. he finds that making food together is more of a bonding experience than simply eating together, and loves to hug you from the back and guide your movements with his hands on top of yours as you chop vegetables or something. also he’ll only buy the highest-quality ingredients, ones that could give you an aneurysm from a glance of the receipt alone even though he thinks it’s worth the price for the better taste and health benefits. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who surprises you with expensive jewelry and beautiful custom-made dresses which cost more than what you usually would be able to make in a month. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it either, just drops a shopping bag filled with glittery tissue paper in front of you with a smile waiting for you to open it. feel free to gasp and smack him for making such an impulsive shopping decision just because he thought of you when he saw it, but expect him to pout and pretend to be offended. nothing is “too much” for his darling.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who acts as your personal chauffeur and drives you around in which car in his collection you want, taking you to the mall, to see a show, to an outing with friends, and wherever else you want to go. the passenger seats are perfectly adjusted to your preferences and have your things sticking out of the side compartments with his large hand being a comforting weight on your thigh, drawing circles into your skin while reminding you that you look perfect and don’t need to continuously fidget with your appearance. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who isn’t what you expected him to be considering his age. you thought he was just some old man who might have been a snob with his status, but he’s a genuine down-to-earth man. even with the salt peppering his hair, smile lines, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, and glasses, he still laughs like a young man and has a sharp mind with insightful knowledge that came with life’s experience. not to mention his godly body which you get the pleasure of watching him work on, cheering him on when he lifts weights while you stand on the sidelines or even join him. he sometimes says you help keep him young, but you know that he’s the most extraordinary man you’ve ever met.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who, although you struggle to admit it, makes you feel insecure at times. he’s hugh jackman, the wolverine, the greatest showman— someone who is larger than life while you’re just someone who met and caught his eye by chance. although he doesn’t seem to mind what others think about your relationship, you aren’t blind to it and worry constantly about ruining his image to the public eye as well as those around him who may not approve of your unconventional relationship. it seems like something built on money rather than love, and although you felt that way at first, it’s clearly grown into something more than that.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who can see right through you as soon as you start having these thoughts, don’t think you can hide it from him. he’s very perceptive and will ask what’s wrong immediately, giving you his full attention and taking any opportunity for you to run away from this confrontation. he’s an open book with you and would like it if you were with him as well, but if you aren’t ready to tell him yet, then he’s fine with giving you room to gather yourself.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who feels his heart break into pieces when you tell him that you just don’t feel good enough to be with him. he’ll hold you and wipe away your tears which began to streak down your face once the words were out, assuring you it was never something that crossed his mind even once and how he wishes you could see how lovely you were in his eyes. anything he can do to change the way you think about this topic, he’ll do, and if you don’t think there is anything that can be done, he’ll compliment you even more frequently and put more time aside for you to show how much he really treasures you. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who becomes more open about your relationship when people ask about it, showing he isn’t ashamed about it and is very proud to call him yours. he’s fantastic at tearing down any negative rumors about you and deflecting criticism, protecting you by turning each question into a session praising how wonderful he thinks you are. there’s not much to it, he’s just some sweet softie who enjoys bringing home his baby little diamond toys and giving her the lavish life she deserves. 

[astro-tag-9]

Moon signs easiest to hardest to fall in love

1- Taurus Moon: Probably has fallen in love with almost every person they’ve ever met that they ever had any interest in. Just want to love and be loved.

2- Libra Moon: Anybody who looks at them long enough they end up having affection for. Hopeless romantics at heart. Feels most at peace when they are in love.

3- Leo Moon: Their lust for somebody quickly turns into love with ease and without much thought. Hard for them to distinguish between what is real and what is in their head, but once they’ve decided they love someone it takes over their whole life.

4- Pisces Moon: They dream of love more than anybody else. They fall for the extremely simple things. They feel things on a different level than most others, and when they love it’s hard to stop. They want to believe the best in those they love.

5- Aries Moon: On the surface they can be a tough nut to crack open, however their pure devotion in love is hard to shake. Love is something they are completely passionate about and it consumes them almost every time. Love is always a challenge that they choose to fight for everytime. Nobody defends their love quite like this moon sign.

6- Scorpio Moon: Become completely all in when they fall in love. Their natural charisma and deep nature draws in more than they would like sometimes, but typically will only fall in love 3 times in life. Their first love they will probably always feel like they ruined, their second is usually something that wasn’t met both ways, but their third and final love is the one that they make a point to get just right.

7- Virgo Moon: They are all about the practical aspects of love. The mentally stimulating type of love. They fall for the conversations and general Witt if someone more so amongst anything else. They are a gentle lover, and do not like to fight or argue much. They are most at peace in love when they can trust somebody enough to turn off the noise in their mind, and be present in the simple pleasures of life.

8- Sagittarius Moon: They want a love that is spontaneous and adventurous. Nothing really routine. They want somebody that has no set comfort zone and will feel most at home with them when they are the farthest away from it. Think of it almost as a gypsy type of love. They want a love that will never try to place them into a box. Can be hard to come by, but the impulse passion is what will get them the most.

9- Cancer Moon: Lower than you may expect, however it is simply because they are so selective on WHO gets their love. They standards that must be met before they decide to take the leap and jump in. Their symbol is a crab, therefore they can come off as moody even when they have the best intentions. They have 0 interest in somebody unless they are their best self. Nobody gets within an inch of hurting those they love without them spotting it from a mile away.

10- Gemini Moon: They fall in love, but keep a level head while they do. They can love somebody and not be with them due to outside circumstances. They tend to not realize they love until the damnage is already done. They are best at finding love when they are not looking for it, and have a hard time forgiving themselves for hurting somebody who loved them. They may fall in love at a younger age, and then spend the rest of their life trying to find them in every other person they meet.

11- Capricorn Moon: Everything is a test to them. They are not very good at expressing how they actually feel about someone, because they feel when they show their feelings they are likely to be let down. If they are buying you things they think you need, giving you advice without you asking, and wanting to be apart of your everyday life, chances are they love you. It just takes a lot for them to actually be vulnerable enough to say it, but will do anything to keep it.

12- Aquarius Moon: These people have little to no clue (usually) how to act in love, that they end up actually ignoring you most of the time. But once they are in love, they pretty much cut everybody else out of their priorities and make you their main person. Typically they are people that can only really handle having up to 2 friends at once anyway. They only really fall in love once in their life, and that’s it. Love is never a priority unless the other person makes it one.

[lady-of-endless]

i was thinking of maybe kid, katakuri and law for the one bed trope! but if you only accept 2 i'll go with kid and katakuri (we don't have enough hcs of this beautiful man)! thank you so much again for your time <3 hope you have an amazing day!

Only one bed trope/ Being forced to share a bed for the first time (Trafalgar D Water Law, Eustass Kid, Charlotte Katakuri)

Author's Note: YES FOR KATAKURI. Thank you so much for requesting him. Let there be only one bed.

Trafalgar D Water Law

- "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The most unaffected looking of all. Only seeming unfazed. He's slightly bothered by the inconvenience. To be clear, not because of you, but more because he's used to sleeping alone at night. There were times in which you napped next to him as he studied and he thinks it should probably be the same thing.

- Law doesn't want to make a big deal out of it but it's something new to him as well. You'll understand this because he's somehow a bit hesitant in his actions and words. He'll pay close attention to your reactions and try to act in tune with you like he's testing the waters without wanting you to notice a change in his attitude.

- He wishes for silence as you lay down to go to sleep but realizes that it feels so damn odd. So please try to say something. You two will conversate for a while, staring at the ceiling, some space between your bodies. Law starts to relax bit by bit and you can hear it in his voice that's becoming more softer.

- He falls asleep the last because of his many thoughts and plans for the next day. However, when he glances over you and notices how peaceful you look, his thoughts go silent. He also feels relieved to have you next to him resting safely for some reason he doesn't want to admit.

- Because you fall asleep before him, Law allows himself to whisper a barely audible goodnight to you.

- As motionless as he is when sleeping, in the morning you'll probably wake up with his head on your shoulder and an arm over your torso. You won't get a reaction from him when he wakes up like that, but be convinced that deep down he starts thinking about how he really had a good sleep next to you.

Eustass Kid

- "Sucks for you to sleep on the floor tonight."

Kid will blurt out casually, at the sight of the single bed in the room. He bets that you think he's joking when in reality he's serious. But it turns out that you're serious too, not laughing or whatever.

- Once he sees you being serious, not having it, and frowning at him, his expression drops as he realizes that you'll probably have to share the bed. Oh shit. Kid freezes for a good minute then he snaps out of it and tries to act cool and unfazed but you can notice a blush on his face. Don't you dare point it out.

- As you both go to bed, he looks so grumpy and annoyed although, he makes sure you have enough space to be comfy and throws the only blanket totally over your body.

- He falls asleep the first. But if not, when Kid thinks you're asleep, he takes a look at your figure next to him and sighs at his impulses. He gives in and scoops closer and wraps his arm around you, doing all of this as gently as he can so it won't wake you up. If you decide to remain silent, that's perfect. If not, he'll quickly argue that you looked cold and shout to stop smirking like an idiot at him.

- This man snores, sorry about that. But give him a gentle push or a tug and the snoring somehow stops. Also, he forgets to wish you goodnight, he just falls asleep so abruptly. You two might talk before sleep and suddenly when you ask him something, he won't respond anymore, not because he doesn't want to but because he already fell asleep.

- In the morning, you'll have to wake him up because he also sleeps very deeply. It's going to be a challenge since he's all over you.

Charlotte Katakuri

- "You will take the bed."

It's the only thing he says at first, calmly, not even considering his comfort for a second or the possibility of you wanting to share a bed with him.

- You'll have to convince him to sleep together in the bed for his good as well and that will take a while. Good luck. However, when he gives in and realizes that he will sleep next to you, something in him warms up.

- Even after that talk, he is still tempted to ask if you're alright with sharing a bed but he stays silent. Mainly because he wants to keep his composure and secondly because he starts to warm up to the idea.

- No blanket? No problem. If you look cold, he'll put his scarf over you and maybe his vest. His body temperature is naturally high. He won't embrace you because he wants to be respectful. (this brings me to the next hc)

- He tries so much to take as little space as he can on the bed but his large frame makes it so very uncomfortable. Doesn't say a word about it, not complaining. It makes you feel a little bad. However, in the morning, you somehow wake up on top of his body, and his arms wrapped around you keeping you there like you're the most precious thing in the world. And you are to him, he just didn't get to tell you that yet.

- He is the type to jolt a bit because of falling asleep too abruptly.

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count 1703

Chapter 31:

Teen had just used his powers, for the first time truly manifesting their beautiful blue glow and slightly electric nature were getting out of control.

His anger, his grief... they were the main emotions controlling him, and he acted impulsively on his thoughts, sending all three witches into the mud; off the road.

He destroyed that damn sigil, no longer needing it, and he had chosen to wait...only that he didn't think through one thing.

You showing up.

He expected Rio to have joined you, and yet here you stood alone. Your eyes met, and before he could try and talk, explain what happened; your eyes glew white.

A strong force sent him flying back, air knocked out of his lungs rather forcefully. And then, the very same force pressed him against the trunk of a tree, white magic glowing all around him; keeping him up and trapped.

In a moment of panic, his magic glowed, but immediately it started to flicker as your white magic covered his hands.

"Wha...what...?" He exclaimed in surprise, not expecting it.

"My power neuters enemy magic," you explained briefly as you took a few steps closer, arms up and facing him.

White magic had come alive, wrapping around your fingers and wrist like veins; thin and delicate strands glowing with life and moving with a mind of their own.

"Please... Y/N..."

"Where is Agatha? Where are they?" You demanded to know. "What did you do?!"

Your magic pressed him more against the wooden truck, and he could feel the splinters digging into his back. "I... I didn't mean it..." he groaned, trying to ignore the newfound pain. "Please...I..."

Your bottom lip trembled slightly in frustration, and you found your anger subsiding as fast as the tides when the moon was low.

You brought your hands to the sides, white magic dying and letting him land not so smoothly on the ground.

Oh, you were pissed and annoyed, and your head was a mess with your feelings and Rio in the mix. You were on guard, and you would get your answers... but not this way.

This was not like you. You were not one to use your powers for harm and pain unless there was no other choice left, and even then, you held back.

Plus, you had started to warm up to the boy, and you could not really harm him or call him a liar so openly. For something deep inside of you was relating to him, to his journey, and so you chose to let him go.

He coughed and slowly stood up, feeling his back complaining from the meeting with the tree trunk but he looked at you with a thankfully look; not expecting you to truly spare him, let alone so quickly.

"Talk. Now, " You demanded, your tone commanding and sharp; like a mother scolding a child.

He took a deep breath. "I was just very angry with how they treated Alice's death and i lost control of my powers and sent them off the road and I am sorry and I dont know how I did it" he spoke fast, barely taking any breaths and hoping it would prevent you from hearing everything.

But you were a fast student, and you picked up everything. You swore you could feel a vein popping on your right temple, pressure budling up as white magic cracked between your fingers; making him take a step back in fear.

"What?!" You exclaimed, louder than before. "You tossed them off the road?!"

"It was an accident, I swear. I was just very angry. " he tried to excuse while backing away, only for you to match his steps by approaching him.

"Do you have any idea what you have done?!" You moved your hands wildly. "Do you?!"

Teen walked back, feeling afraid and planning to find some rock or thick tree to hide behind. He knew you were a kind person and he genuinely liked you but you resembled so much an angry mother at that moment... that he genuinely was concerned.

Before anything could happen, though, the sound of someone coughing and struggling made you turn your heads, only to see Agatha slowly crawling from the mud she was thrown into.

She had grabbed a nearby tree root and was slowly trying to escape the sticky sinking mud.

"Agatha!" You exclaimed and rushed her way, ignoring Teen while your anger disappeared the moment you saw your lover.

She accepted your help to get out of that stinky mud trap, more than once threatened to slip and lose her grip on you, but managed to prevent it.

In the end, she was out dirty but alive.

Leaves stuck to her muddy clothes, and even her hair had stuck together. Her hands, in an attempt to claw out, had mud beneath her fingernails, and she had managed to stand your white shirt when she grabbed you to be helped out of the trap.

You could care less, though. Your clothes were not as clean as when you first entered the road and you didn't care. It was clothes, simple and unimportant.

You could change them when this was all over.

"Thank the mother, you are okay," you said, inspecting her for any other injury she may have suffered.

So far, she seemed okay, unharmed, and simply sticky and dirty. She didn't push your hand away but kept her gaze locked on the one responsible for this trouble... Teen.

It was then Agatha took notice of his appearance and also the small parts of dirt and wood sticking on his clothes.

"I see you got to him first," she commented, trying to unglue a muddy strand from her cheek.

"More than once," you commented and also looked at him.

His gaze shifted between guilt and pride, trying not to react to your gazes and words.

"Well, careful there, sugar. If he is that much like his mother, he will learn and get you back next time you two clash, " Agatha said, making you frown.

"Like his mother?" You questioned.

Agatha smirked, and you swore her eyes grew misty, her tough facade slipping away. "Yes... the son of the Scarlet Witch. " she looked at him with odd care. "It's good to see you again, Billy,"

"Billy Maximoff," you mumbled, remembering finding that name across the star charts one day when you were trying to find Agatha's whereabouts and maybe try some... old spells to check up on her.

"Billy....William..." The boy said, still conflicted between the two people he is or was or tries to be.

He had a complicated double life he never asked for but had to learn to navigate on his own.

As Agatha started to poke around the Bush, testing the limits and patience of the boy; you managed to get a good idea. She was also kind enough to fill in the blanks.

Basically, Wanda had created two sons within the hex that you knew from rumours. After all, the appearance of the Scarlet Witch had shaken many in the magical community.

After the battle between Agatha and Wanda, the one you learned that your lover had her powers drained, Wanda dropped the hex.

And yet her powerful but still untrained son had managed to slip and escape, find a recently empty body, and inhabit it.

Your gaze softened when you saw the conflict within him and how he tried to hide the guilt he felt, for taking over the life of someone else; even if that someone had passed away.

"She is right, you know," you chose to comment after Agatha finished her speech about why he shouldn't feel bad for what he did. "The rules were never meant for our kind. They were never fair to us. To survive, we learnt to bend and even break them. "

Your words had a personal touch behind them, and Billy quickly understood that you had been in something similar. Maybe not the same, but your past had not been perfect and light and peaceful, evident by your romantic favour towards Agatha and the scars you bore.

And he was right.

For you were meant not to harm, let alone kill, unless something was truly the Darkest spot and a danger to everything.

That was your role, your mission...

And yet you broke it when you killed those witch hunters, even if it was in self-defense. You broke the rules to survive.

Maybe not break, perhaps bent since those men truly were danger for you and other witches... but the ending remained the same.

But of course, this sweet little moment couldn't remain; not with Agatha; who chose to test the waters once again.

Though this time, Billy seemed to have trouble working his powers; a proof he had yet to master control over them, especially when not enraged.

"Whatever." He exclaimed, trying not to let her get inside his head and under his skin. "You know it's there. I can finish The Road on my own."

Agatha smirked. "Oh, sure, with all that power you can't control without throwing a temper tantrum."

"I'll figure it out!"

Deciding that you had enough, you chose to enter this little conversation as you walked to stand by your lover's side.

"You won't have to because you will be coming with us," you said, earning surprised looks from the two. They parted their lips to argue, but you lifted your hand, palm facing them; a sign not to interrupt you. "We lost Alice when we turned on one another. We are not losing anyone else. We work together, get to the end of this hellish road, and then get out of here. "

They muttered in agreement, knowing you were right and that it was also wiser not to argue with you. Especially after the show you did with the ghost of Evanora, they knew better.

And so, the three of you started to walk down the yellow leaved covered path towards your next trial; expecting that Lilia and Jen would catch up with you one way or another.

Or at least that was what you personally hoped for, unsure if it would become a reality.

Chapter 32

[justwonder113]

Sharing a bed with Han

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: While in your twenties you do lot's of crazy stuff like walking up to a stranger and claiming to him that you're dating now. One bed trope; Friends? to lovers; Idiots in Love. Reader and Han matching each other's freak Warning: CURSING It's me who's surprised there, one or two adult jokes. Please inform me if I miss anything. Not proofread. A/N- Hey my lovelies I'm sorry I was absent for so long. Apart from studying I also started to work which took much more time and energy than I thought and my mental health wasn't also the best. But thankfully I'm feeling much better now and I quit that shithole too so I have time to get back to writing, which I'm really excited about. I came up with some new ideas and I can't wait to write it. Requests are open too so if you have anything you want me to write feel freeto ask. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Also I want to thank you all for all the love and support you have given me it means the world to me. Feel free to share your thought I just love knowing what you think about my work^^ Word count- 3k

Inspired by this post right here⬇️ It immediately made me think of Han

Being in your twenties is surely an interesting experience. One might expect of you to be this grown up adult making this important decisions, being all busy doing important stuff, paving your own way in life making connections etc... and You do there's no way you can escape all that grown up shit. But being in your twenties is also really awesome and interesting because despite being this hardworking people who have their shit together people in their twenties also have the tendency to do a complete 180 and to put it simply do some batshit crazy things and then carry on like it's just a regular Tuesday. Well you would know you're in your twenties and you really just proved yourself your point.

You considered yourself quite normal, rational with few crazyish tendencies because you were human after all. To put it simply you were an average person living their life. Like others you were trying to pave your own way in life, hence why you were here in this university working your ass off. You wouldn't call yourself impulsive or crazy even though you had done your share of let's just say some questionable stuff. Nothing special right? But sometimes the parasites the demon you just took over. Like now, what the hell was up?

To paint the situation more clearly you were just finished with your midterms and came out of your last exam. Of course it took a lot of energy and effort from you, heck you were barely standing on your feet from fatigue of couple sleepless nights. Maybe it is what made you act up? Not sleeping for really long time made people lose their minds, you had read about the Russian sleep experiment who gave a fuck if it was a creepy pasta.

You were the first to come out of the exam room and obviously overjoyed from bending over the most difficult subject of the semester. You really outdid yourself, all your hard work and dedication paying off. Well being beyond giddy with excitement you wanted to leap from joy to express your happiness.

It's like you felt the adrenaline levels in your body rise, that's when you noticed a boy your age come out of the exam room next to the one you just left. He also looked really happy and pleased wit himself.

Unable to contain your excitement you walked up to the boy who looked quite handsome you might add, and raised your hands and yelled high five. Were you disrupting other students? -Maybe. Did you care? -No not really. The boy was confused for a second but quickly came back to his senses and high fived you. And this is when a really dumb idea stuck you and before you could even think it over and talk some sense into yourself you intervened your hands and got a little closer to him. A smile crept up your face, somehow amused at the poor boys visible confusion. To be honest you had never seen someone who looked so cute while confused. "We're dating now, love you bae." You couldn't believe this words left your mouth and before you could embarrass yourself even more you quickly left leaving the poor boy behind. God he must have been so shocked.

One might think that that's where thing ended up right? And who would blame you? Any rational person would think that you're crazy and/or delusional and would make sure to avoid you at all cost. But we're not talking about rational people in this tale and things didn't end up there. As it turns out the boy, his name being Han Jisung as you came to know him, was just as crazy as you if sometimes not more. For the past year since that happened, that semester and one more he never missed and whenever he saw you walking in the hallway he always made sure to wave at you all excited and as dramatically loud as possible yell "Hey baby". It didn't matter what the distance between you was, whether you were on the opposite ends of the hallway of standing literally next to each other, everyone's eyes always would end up on you some amused some annoyed faces faced towards you. You always felt torn between finding his antics absolutely adorable and this whole interaction being your highlight of Uni and at the same time wanting to die of shame for all that attention. Honestly at this point you had quite not so (not at all) small crush on him.

That also lead to your dilemma. Despite basically half of the uni thinking that you and Han are dating you obviously weren't. But you were definitely friends. You first normally talked to him when you were at the party one of his friend threw. To be honest you weren't completely feeling yourself that day and when things got a bit too overwhelming you excused yourself and sneaked away to the balcony where you found him. He greeted you as per usual, not failing to put a smile on your face and suddenly you forgot you were feeling tired and overwhelmed. You talked a little about how parties sometimes could be a little too much and then something just clicked. Both of you completely forgot about the party you spent hours talking about everything and nothing at the same time and you felt so at peace while also feeling excited and completely immersed in conversation. You two got even more close when your friend started dating his friend. Naturally both your friend groups got closer to the point that now all of you decided to enjoy much awaited free time together and here you were now in the beautiful beach house you had rented. Looking stunned at the double bed you and Han were supposed to share.

You really liked him, way much more since you got to know him better and got closer to him. You couldn't even imagine not having him in your life. Which is why you kept your mouth shut about your feelings. There were few moments where you thought that maybe he did reciprocate your feelings but knowing how flirty and goofy his personality you decided to let it go and not to hold tightly to the moss. You wouldn't risk losing him as a friend. He was the person who made you believe in soulmates. He was your comfort person, someone you could lean on, your source of joy and excitement. You loved how he literally never failed to match your freak and vice versa and all the crazy stuff you did. He gave a new meaning to being alive!

God you were really going off topic, as you could tell you really liked him, which is why you felt beyond embarrassed when you got sorted in the same room as him, and especially now that you found out that there was only a double bed in the room. Yes you two were close and both of you were used to being touchy to each other but you had never once slept together in the same space.

You cursed yourself for agreeing to your friend to switch rooms with her since she wanted to be with her boyfriend Chan, who was supposed to be Han's roommate. You thought that it was not a big deal because you thought there would be two separate beds, you didn't really bother to check since all you wanted was to get sorted quickly and go to sleep as fast as possible. You would so smack her in the morning, you wouldn't risk going into her room now afraid of seeing not so pg stuff. This was the last time you were going to be considerate to your friends! Especially not after she whispered to you before heading to her room that this was your chance with Han and advising you use protection. Like you needed that on top of everything. Your mind already felt like blowing up!

God you were feeling so awkward you couldn't even fully enjoy how beautiful and perfect everything was, not even how this fluffy straight out of heaven bed was basically calling your name, it basically felt like it was tormenting you.

"Well this is interesting." You tried to break the silence and looked over at Han who looked like he wasn't breathing, God just what did Felix and Minho whisper to him? "Han?" you called out to him a bit alarmed when you noticed or maybe hallucinated who even knows that he was starting to pale. Well it did work and he quickly snapped out of it and gathered himself.

"Listen if you feel awkward about this I understand, I can go sleep in the living room." Han spoke with soft reassuring voice and it did help calming your nerves a little making you fell all soft inside. You had to pull yourself together.

"Oh no Hannie, that couch looked uncomfortable as hell, there's no way you can sleep on that your back will hate you for it!" You tried to reason, and Han thought for a second before bringing up another idea about sleeping on the floor but you didn't even let him finish the sentence. "Listen Ji, this is just as much your vocation as it is mine. You're here to relax and have a good time not to sleep on the floor! Thank you for being considerate, I really appreciate that, but I can't make you sleep on the floor. As long as you're comfortable with it we can share a bed. We're both adults let's not make a big deal out of this." Han looked at you in the eyes for a as if second making sure you were really okay with this then nodded his head softly.

"I'll take a shower first if that's okay with you? Han looked a bit dazed for a second but he quickly snapped out of it. "Yeah sure" He stuttered out and as if to distract himself went over to his bag to search for something.

You couldn't help but squeal on the inside about how cute he was being while heading to the bathroom but once it actually dawned on you that you would be sharing a bed you kinda wanted to bash your head against the wall it just felt like a right thing to do.

You made sure to thoroughly wash yourself to the point that when you got out of the shower you were convinced that you were sparkling. You quickly did your skincare, got dressed in your cute new set of pyjamas and even applied some perfume for that extra fresh feeling. Yup you were definetly sparkling. Also the way that Jisung visibly gulped the second he saw you enter the room? Just perfection, an ideal ego boost! Maybe sharing a room with him wasn't such a bad idea.

Han quickly washed up and here you were in the dimly lit room, in the same bed as him. The bed wasn't as big as it seemed, despite keeping your distance you could still feel his bodyheat, hear his every breath, smell his body wash and his natural a bit musky scent...God you felt like a creep! How the fuck were you supposed to sleep in here?

Han was also visibly nervous your bed was almost vibrating from his constant fidgeting and despite finding him cute and all that if he didn't stop in the next five seconds you would smother him with your pillow. Sighing to yourself you started bracing yourself that you two wouldn't get much sleep today.

Jokes on you you were out like a light switch in like 20 minutes. You only awoke because a suspicious sound coming from the next room, you know the one you don't really want checking. Also by the way his hands tightened around your waist Han was awake too. Wait what?

As if fanfiction gods were laughing at you from above you were all tangled up with Han as if him hugging your waist and you using his chest as a pillow wasn't enough. Oh yes you were both adults you could control yourselves nothing would happen, you just HAD to do a speech!

Okay back to important stuff, what the hell were you supposed to do now?- pretend to be asleep? There's no way Han hadn't noticed that you were awake you two were conjoined like Siamese twins! He probably could even tell the slightest shift in your pulse which went up a lot in this 30 seconds in fact you were pretty sure you would have either panic attack or would just simply pass out. It was 50\50.

God how did you manage to find yourself in this situation? And more importantly, who the fuck smells so good and feels this comfortable to hold? This was so not fair!

Han's soft call of your name brought you back from whatever the hell was going inside your head, his voice was warm asking you if you were awake.

"Yes..."You answered quietly your voice muffled a bit from your face still being smushed on his chest. There's no way you could turn to your pillow after this.

"I, uhm..." - Han begin to talk but stammered, unable to find his words, meanwhile you're stuck in the daze, your mind absolutely flipping over how hot his morning voice is. There was no need to mention the state of your heart, that bitch was a goner.

Feeling frustrated with himself Han sighed, his arms slightly tightening around you. You don't know what compels you but you look up, maybe curiosity to know what he's thinking, thinking maybe you can read his face. The sight has you left in awestruck. His hair is all disheveled but somehow looking so fluffy and soft you really wish you can slide your fingers through his locks. His eyes which are unable to hold your gaze sparkle with the morning light. In fact you're convinced if you hadn't already you would surely fall for him from this sight alone.

'"What is it Ji?" You ask after a few seconds of awkward silence, after noting how his thumb on his hand which still lies on your waist twitches occasionally, how his chest is rising up and down quicker than normal, how his breathing isn't as even as is should be.'"What is it Ji?" You ask after a few seconds of awkward silence, after noting how his thumb on his hand which still lies on your waist twitches occasionally, how his chest is rising up and down quicker than normal, how his breathing isn't as even as is should be.

One second he is looking into your eyes the next he has his face covered with his hands whining about something you can't descipher.

"Ji?" - You couldn't mask your surprise.

"You can't look at me like that!"

"Sorry? Like what?"

Jisung looked through his fingers and scoffed as if the answer to that question was the most obvious thing ever. He sighed in defeat when he noticed that you in fact had no clue what was going on.

"All pretty and stuff." You couldn't help but grin once his answer actually dawned on you. God he was too cute for his own good.

"You think I'm pretty?"

He looked at you with unimpressed expression, then he took the pillow from right under his head and put it on his face and screamed into it like dramatic baby he was. Looking at his theatrics you couldn't help but laugh which resulted disapproving grunt of protest which backfired because it only made you laugh even more.

"Oh come on now, don't be mad! It's not everyday you hear your crush admit you're pretty!" You couldn't help but tease and you waited for your answer to dawn on him.

"Still you shouldn't tease!" Han whined from under his pillow. You wondered how much time would he need to actually realize that you admitted you had a crush on him.

"Come on Jiji! Take off the pillow!"

"No I'm dying here!" He really shouldn't spend so much time with Jisung.

And then there was a pause for a second , then two and by the third the pillow covering his face was thrown from the bed into the room somewhere and Jisung staring at you with his wide boba eyes.

"Wait a minute!"

"There it is! Took you some time pretty boy, almost had me worried." You immediately quipped back.

"Don't fluster me woman I'm having a serious moment here what do your crush?!"

"I meant that I like a pretty boy named Han Jisung but for some reason he is taking his sweet time to get that."

"You have a crush on me?" You couldn't really tell if he was teasing or if he was in awe but knowing him he could manage and do both at the same time. He sure was an unique person.

"Good thing that you're cute pretty boy."

"Stop flustering me!"

"Should I kiss you instead?"

The way Jisung whined was beyond adorable honestly how could you not tease him? Now it was your pillow that was stolen and covering his face and his little squeals,

"Hey Ji." You called after a second, he immediately answered a pillow still on his face.

"Does this mean that we're actually dating now?" You wanted to keep your teasing tone but you couldn't really mask your hopefulness. He immediately got rid of the pillow, the embarrassment long forgotten, in second Jisung had you in his arms hugging you tightly he even gave you an obnoxiously loud smooch on your cheek.

"Absolutely baby." There it was his sweet gummy smile. There's no way you could resist that, softly holding his soft cheek you leaned in and connected your lips into a short but sweet kiss. Jisung looked awestruck for a second but this time he immediately came back to his senses and leaned in to connect your lips into much more passionate kiss now well tried to at least neither of you could stop smiling after all. You really had to thank your friend in the morning, sharing a bed with Han was surely one of the best decisions you had ever made.

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 20.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. angst, hurt no comfort, the aftermath of past chapters

A/N. me when

-> MASTERLIST.

Everything you did was on impulse. 

You acted before thinking things through rationally and it was chaotic.

Your heart and head hurt so bad, you felt like there was nothing more that you could do except sob and mull over your mistakes.

Mistake.

You felt absolutely stupid for thinking something was different. Something would change. But the universe came around and found the worse way, the worse person, to prove you dead wrong. 

To make matters worse, you were depressed and jobless. At this rate, you’d have to move back home with your family and work at a local retail store, and you were not going back to that lifestyle if you could help it.

On the brighter side, your emails from news outlets and your notifications from social media had finally begun to slow. At this point, it’s been a week since the initial incident.

The only person you’ve kept in touch with from your former job was Kiyoomi. According to him, the emails hadn’t slowed on his end, but that was to be expected since he was the center of many fangirls’ attention.

He’d keep you at least a little sane when you felt your mentals decline. 

As for the other man, you hadn’t heard or seen anything of him. Which was definitely for the best. You were actually surprised he hadn’t shown up at your door, because your threat to call the police if he came was half-empty.

And you absolutely hate yourself, because even though you know he did you extremely wrong, there’s a sliver of you that misses him. That wishes that he hadn’t been the cause of all your hurt so that he could be the one who is comforting you.

But the world is cruel and so was Atsumu.

———

You had expected it to take months to find a new job, but after you had helped manage a champion team, the calls came in faster than you could answer.

There were too many good offers, even offers from teams that MSBY had beaten. You took the easy way out of each call by telling them that you’d get back to them ASAP. You’d probably have to research the teams and players before really considering or accepting a job offer. 

Other than job-hunting, you found yourself at home nearly all day. You’d play video games with Sakusa or just do some cleaning around the house. You’d found a new hobby with gardening in your spare time. Though, you weren’t very good at keeping them alive.

If not doing any of that, you’d be caught up in your head. Whether it be thinking of the past or worrying about the future, your line of thought would somehow find its way to him. You’d scold yourself every time, but you couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts. You’re scared that if you were to see him, you’d crumble all over again. You don’t know if you had it in you to turn him away, even after everything.

A knock at your door causes you to jump. You quickly get up to open it to Kiyoomi.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you bow to him jokingly, before he walks in. 

“I was here two days ago, not too much,”

You laugh before the two of you walk to your living room, making yourselves comfortable.

“How has the unemployed life been treating you?” he asks as he begins to connect his Nintendo Switch to your TV.

“Good, actually. I got like almost 8 different job offers, I think one of them is actually from an overseas team,” 

His eyes widen at that, “Impressive,”

You nudge at him, “Yeah, I’m actually considering that one, it might be in California? But it’s far, but at the same time maybe that’s not a bad thing,”

“Could finally get away from all this madness,” Sakusa adds, taking your remote to switch the source. 

“Mm, yeah. But at the same time this is my home and I don’t feel like I got closure with—”

Sakusa’s head snaps your direction, his eyes look at you knowingly causing you to stop. “Don’t start,”

You groan in distress, “I can’t,” you throw your head back, “I’m a mess,”

He uses the Switch controller to select a game, giving you the other controller. “Maybe you should seriously consider that overseas offer. It’d be a nice change of scenery, and it’s not a forever thing. At the end of the day you could always come back. I think you being here reminds you too much of him, and it’s not doing you any good,”

Your eyes widen, “Woah, so serious, Omi,”

His eyes squint at you, “I am serious,”

You laugh, taking the controller into your hands.

“I will though,” you continue, “You’re probably right, I might just need to untether myself from this god forsaken country for a while. Too many bad memories,”

“Thank you, Kiyoomi,” you smile, clicking the button to ready up your character.

“Anytime,”

———

Atsumu considers going on hiatus. Contrast to you, you’ve been on his mind 24/7. Atsumu always hated those stupid “everything reminds me of them,” jokes, but now he seriously relates.

He can’t drown himself in other women or alcohol. Because it feels wrong. He finds himself needing and wanting to be loyal to you, even though he hasn’t seen you in more than a month.

Atsumu avoids asking Sakusa about you. Mostly because the last time he did ask, Sakusa told him off. He opted to make burner accounts to see what you were up to on social media. Unfortunately for him, you stopped posting almost entirely before turning your account private.

He knew he was getting borderline obsessive but he couldn’t help it. He was already fighting the urge to go to you himself everyday. To try and ask around to anyone and everyone who may know what you’ve been up to.

Atsumu knows all of this is wrong of him. He was the one who did you wrong. Nothing he’d do would ever make it up to you. 

Everything was working against him. 

After you left that day, he had told Angie off and blocked her once and for all.

When he found out you had resigned, he almost considered quitting. 

He wanted to curse every higher being for allowing things to turn out this way.

But nothing could compare to how he felt the day he eavesdropped on Kiyoomi’s phone call. His phone call with you. He stood by the doorway of the locker room as he listened as closely as he could.

After so long he’d finally gotten something, crumbs, of what you were doing. Though it was definitely not what he had expected or what he wanted. 

“You’re taking the job?” Sakusa sounds excited, Atsumu assumes he’s talking about you getting a new job, “That’s good, sounds like a good offer,”

There’s a pause, and he guesses that you’re probably saying something in response from the other end.

“Are you nervous though? The U.S is pretty far, but California is cool from what I’ve heard,”

Atsumu’s heart sinks to his stomach. California? You were leaving the country?

His mind is running wild. Atsumu obviously knew you’d eventually find a new job, but he had thought you’d still be within arms reach. Close enough for him to reach out to you when he feels like the time is right. But across the globe? Atsumu is so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t register the sound of Sakusa ending the call with you or him coming out of the locker room. 

Atsumu nearly jumps at the other man’s voice, “Oh, you,”

He has no words, and just stares at Sakusa. “You heard, huh?”

“Good for her, she’ll finally be able to get away from you.”

The words from Sakusa are like a slap in the face, and if he was talking about anyone other than you Atsumu would’ve let him have a piece of his mind. But Sakusa was right. 

He didn’t want to sound conceited or boost his own ego, but he probably had some part in your decision making. And while in the past, he probably would’ve felt some sick gratification from driving you far away. But now it just made him feel sick. Just sick. 

Atsumu is stuck between a rock and a hard place. He wants to see you, to try and change your mind, he knows his efforts would be wasted.

Still, would it really hurt to try?

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[bunnylovesani]

Miss Congeniality

Chapter 4

Content warnings: MDNI, soft dom ani, smoking weed, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, humiliation kink, dirty talk, ani likes getting slapped, aftercare, general smut with fluff

WC: 2.7k

Your last competition marked the end of pageant season, giving you plenty of time to figure out how you were gonna break the news to your parents that you were done with it all. You’d finished high school over a year ago and were now stuck in a rut; what’s next for you? If you weren’t going to college and weren’t competing for any more titles, what did life have in store? You struggled to imagine a world beyond the 4 walls of your room and your plushy pink bed laden with stuffed animals.

You'd gone out with your family last night to the fancy new Italian place- with your pageant victory and Jaden landing his first job since dropping out of college, there was plenty of cause for celebration. It quickly went awry when you made some distasteful jokes alluding to your status as the golden girl; your father didn’t much appreciate your increasingly rebellious attitude and left the restaurant before dessert could be served.

To your surprise, his displeasure didn’t affect you nearly as much as it normally does. When someone’s mad at you, you’re unusually unbearable about it: you follow them around like a puppy who’d lost its ball, whining and apologising until they caved and showed you affection. But not today. How could you when all your thoughts were consumed by someone else? You looked for him everywhere, sitting on the chair at the edge of your bed or round the table at dinner- Anakin’s absence was sorely felt now that you'd grown accustomed to his frequent pop-ins and tag-alongs. You wondered if it would be strange for you to be the one coming over for once.

You'd always imagined him living in either a frathouse hovel or some kind of unsanitary bachelor pad- but standing in front of the steel gates of the apartment complex, you were pleasantly surprised. You punch in the code he texted you when you announced your arrival and the gate doors swung wide open. Climbing into the elevator to reach the 7th floor, your hands feel clammy and there's bile rising up your throat. You'd never visited him before and the fact that you'd invited yourself over on an impulsive whim had you second-guessing everything.

The elevator doors open and he’s right there, leaning against his apartment at the end of the hallway. You wonder if he waited outside for you so that you wouldn't have a chance to turn back at the last minute. Clearly, he knew you better than you gave him credit for.

“There you are. Took you long enough.” He smirked, leading the way into his apartment as you followed behind him like a lost puppy.

As soon as you stepped foot into the place, your nostrils filled with the musky scent of weed, smoke wafting over from the sizeable brown blunt he held between his silver ring-clad fingers.

“It’s barely noon.” You scolded him as you took a seat on his black leather couch.

“Did you come here just to nag me? Maybe you should take a hit, it’ll chill you out.” He plonked onto a bean bag opposite you, spreading his long legs out and inhaling another drag.

“I didn’t come here to get high.” You huff, wondering why you were acting so high-strung when in fact, you weren’t opposed to the idea.

“No, I don’t suppose you would. You probably couldn’t handle it anyway and I have no interest in spending the night babysitting. In more interesting news, I heard you had a fight with daddy last night.” He spat cockily- damn Jaden and his big mouth.

“Bold of you to assume I’d be spending the night. And it’s none of your business.” You cross your arms, slowly filling with regret for coming here. Why was he being such a dick?

“Wow, you’re acting even more bratty than usual. Didn’t think that was possible. Why are you even here?” He puts the blunt out half-smoked, leaving the remainder resting against the ashtray.

“I, I don’t know…I just thought-“

“Let me take a wild guess. You wanted to piss daddy off by sneaking off to see your brother’s older, bad influence of a friend. Thought you’d push some boundaries and try to prove to yourself that you’re not just a stuck-up little good girl. Well, you failed.” He cocks his eyebrows at you.

“I am neither stuck up nor a good girl! Just because I choose to behave myself instead of acting like an animal doesn’t mean I’m not capable of all the things you are.” You feel your blood pressure rising.

“Prove it.”

“Oh and I bet you would just love it if I put out and debased myself for you. All you want is to get me high and fuck me- I know what your intentions are and it’s not gonna happen buddy.” You get up, marching across the room and heading for the door.

“That’s rich coming from someone who screams my name when she cums.” He states matter-of-factly and you stop in your tracks.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I heard you. Acting all high and mighty when you’re the slut here. Admit it, you want me.” He walks towards you and turns you around to face him. Before your brain can catch up with your body, your palm swings around and makes contact with his right cheek, smacking him with the intensity of a whip cracking.

“Feisty. I like it.” He holds his hand up to his reddened face, somewhat shocked but not angry. “Are we done now? I’m really not in the mood to argue.” He smirks at you, pulling you in by the waist and instantly softening your attitude.

“I’m so sorry! Oh Ani I don’t know what came over me, ‘m sorry!” You attentively caress his cheek, inspecting how hard you slapped him. You acted like your reaction was a result of him calling you that word- but if you were honest with yourself, you knew it was because he was right. If you weren’t in denial, you’d realise you loved the way the insult rolled off his tongue and loved how it made you feel even more.

“I’m so embarrassed.” A blush creeps over your cheeks at the thought of him eavesdropping on your most intimate moments.

“Over assaulting me or over touching yourself thinking about me?” He traces his hand along your shoulder.

“Both.” You give him a snarky glare. He was enjoying this too much.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who’s done that.” He flashes you a grin before relighting his blunt and scurrying down the hallway into his room.

“Huh, done what? Ani? Not the only one who’s done what?” You follow him down the hallway giddily and stop outside his bedroom door. Blunt in mouth, you see Anakin right before you - taking off his hoodie, shirt getting caught by the tight material and revealing his tanned v-line and happy trail on full display. You couldn’t help but stare at the veins trailing down his lower stomach and leading into his boxers, gulping as you admire the perfect dark blonde tuft of hair growing in a neat line below his belly button.

“God it’s hot in here. What were you asking again?” He asks, folding away his hoodie and taking a long drag.

“Umm, uh it’s nothing. Hey, can I have a puff?” You point at his blunt in curiosity, trying to banish the sinful mental images flashing through your head.

“But princess, it’s barely noon.“ He berates you mockingly and you roll your eyes.

“I was a little tense earlier, ‘m sorry.” You sigh and twiddle your thumbs. “It’s just that I’ve never tried it.”

“Come here.” He beckons you over to his bed and sits you on his lap. “You can try a few drags but only a couple. I don’t wanna see that attitude of yours come out when I cut you off. Now are you gonna be a good girl and listen?”

“Yes Ani, I promise!” You nod along and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Alright sweetheart, here ya go.” He hands you the joint and you take your first hit, coughing and spluttering as a burning sensation spreads through your lungs.

“Ani, this is awful! How can you smoke this?!” You scrunch your face up, disgusted by the strange new feeling.

“That’s because you’re doing it wrong, silly. Inhale slowly, like this.” He demonstrates and you follow his lead, taking a smoother drag this time.

“There you go baby, you’re a natural.” He chuckles and snakes his hand round to rest on your bare thigh. “What kind of outfit is this, huh? Are you trying to seduce me or something?” He snorts, playing with the short frills of your mini skirt.

“No! I just thought it was pretty.” You chirp innocently.

“Pretty slutty, yea.” You gasp and slap his chest.

“Will you stop hitting me?!” He exclaims, digging his fingers into your thighs.

“I will, just as soon you stop calling me a slut!”

“Why, when I know you like it.”

“So do you.” You’d noticed him shuffling around and adjusting his sweatpants every time you’d playfully hit him and you weren’t that oblivious as to what that meant.

“Is that why you do it then?” He says after a little pause, gaze dropping to focus on your parted lips.

“Um…uh, I” You stutter as you feel your panties getting wet and your brain getting hazy- partially from his intense gaze and partially from the blunt.

“Aw, is it getting to you now? I see your eyes glazing over.” He takes the blunt out of your hands and takes another puff himself before putting it out. “That’s enough.”

You’re too busy fixating on his thumb which is rubbing feather-light circles into your inner thigh to notice.

“Stop it, you’re making me feel tingly.” You bat his hand away.

“Oh yeah? What kinda tingles?” He disregards your command and returns his hand to its original position.

“The kind that make me feel fuzzy inside…” You utter in a hushed tone, starting to sway a little now that your high had hit you.

“Lie down f’me babe.” He guides you off his lap and onto his bed. “So you’ve never had anyone help you make those tingles go away?”

“Nuh uh.” You shake your head innocently and he grins, starting to lift your shirt and press light kisses up and down your tummy.

“And would you like it if your Ani was the first?” He looks up at you, speaking so softly you could barely hear him.

You choked out a “yea!” before covering your face with a pillow, embarrassed by Anakin’s insistence on eye contact as he slid your skirt off and started fiddling with the waistband of your pink panties.

“Don’t be shy baby, I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” He groans as he hooks his fingers around your underwear and slides them off before spreading your legs and admiring what’s between them.

“Anii, what are you doing?” You squeal, face burning with shame, barely able to meet his intense gaze.

“Stop squirming, will ya? I’ve been dreaming about this moment for months, let a man take in the view before he dives in.” He grazes his thumb lightly over your clit and lets out a moan. “Goddamn baby, I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked. You have a habit of ruining your panties, don’t you?”

You whine at his patronising comments, feeling overwhelmed with arousal and embarrassment.

“What a pretty pink pussy…” He mutters to himself and you feel yourself being pulled into a narcotic-induced daze, everything around you growing hazy and numb.

You’re brought back to life when his tongue dips into your folds, licking a wet stripe up your clit that makes your body jolt with pleasure.

“Fuck!” You yelp unexpectedly as your thighs start trembling- you don’t ever swear. He looks up at you as he flicks his tongue repeatedly over your swollen pussy, maintaining a tight grip around your hips to ensure you can’t escape.

“Already shaking, princess? You virgins are so sensitive.” He sneers before resuming his torturously pleasurable routine. You moan and pant as waves of euphoria wash over you like never before. You’d touched yourself a few times but you’d never experienced such mind-numbingly sensual gratification.

Just as you thought the pleasure couldn’t possibly escalate, he pushes one of his fingers inside your tight little hole. You gasp at the intrusion and before you can properly adjust, he shoves another one in until he’s massaging your insides with a beckoning motion.

“Shh, baby. Shh, it’s okay.” He hushes you comfortingly as you squeal and whimper. He resumes tonguing your bundle of nerves as you grab onto his unruly blonde curls, needing something to ground you in case you floated away in ecstasy.

“You taste so good princess…you like my fingers, huh? I can see you do, you’re gushing all over me.” You blush at his crude words as he slaps the side of your thigh and dives back in, continuing to eat you out for what felt like hours. He worked you up to the brink of your orgasm several times- before stopping abruptly, ensuring you were sobbing with pleasure before he even considered releasing you.

“Bet you’re gonna think twice now before coming to my house with that attitude again.” He grunts, silver rings pounding against your pussy as he continues stroking you with increasing intensity.

“Mm, please! Please Ani, please let me cum. You were right, I am a good girl, I’m your good girl! Please daddy, I can’t take it anymore!” You wail, half out of your mind and nauseous with pleasure.

“Daddy, huh?” He smirks, satisfied that he’d tortured you for long enough. “Alright baby, let go for me. Cum all over my fingers sweetheart.”

With one final resounding moan, you cum so hard the world starts spinning and you see stars, glistening brightly and jumping across the room. You take deep gulps of air to try and calm your erratically beating heart as Anakin lifts himself up to lie down beside you.

“Breathe baby, just breathe.” He pulls you into his arms and places his hand in an open palm over your heart. “You did so good. Here angel, drink some water.” Handing you the bottle, you only then realise how dry your mouth feels from the blunt.

“Ani? How did you manage to get it all so wet after smoking?” You ask weakly after taking a few sips.

“Most of that wetness wasn’t from me, sweetheart.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, before planting a few kisses there. “Do you wanna spend the night here?”

“Mhm! Yea Ani I’d love to!” You chirp sweetly.

“Alright baby, why don’t we get you changed into something more comfortable and then we can watch something?” He plants a delicate kiss onto your lips and gets up to peruse through his wardrobe. “How about this? It’s my favourite band tee.” He throws you a black shirt with a metal band graphic printed across it- you recognise it instantly as one of his most worn articles of clothing and your heart swells with joy. Eagerly, you throw it on and giggle at how oversized it is on you.

“I love it!” You wrap your arms around yourself and take a deep inhale: woody cologne, weed and peppermint gum. “It smells like you too.”

“Oh no I’m sorry, maybe I forgot to wash it- let me get another one-“

“No Ani, I love it! You smell amazing.” You pull him back down into the bed with you and roll on top of him, wanting to be as physically close as possible. “Baby? I feel bad, you made me feel amazing and I haven’t...well, done anything.”

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck, princess. Now, what do you want to watch?” He rolls you over, wraps his arm around you and reaches for the remote.

Next Chapter

[mrsshabana]

♡ 𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ♡

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 𝟓𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

CW: NSFW, 18+ MDNI, female reader, blood, gore, manipulation, smut, creampie, violence

AN: Thank you all so much for 500 followers!! I can't believe that this happened so quickly, it was only a month ago that I made my 300 follower special! I want to thank everyone who took the time to support me this far. And I'd also like to welcome everyone that is new here! There will be lots more Gyutaro content to come ~ ♡

Gyutaro doesn’t understand his romantic feelings towards you. He expresses them in ways that are difficult for you to decipher. So he just acts on impulse. Usually having no filter or boundaries.

Treats you like a toy. Similar to how a vindictive child would treat a small puppy.

He’ll make you cry just so he can be the one to comfort you in the end.

As a demon, he thinks he’s superior to you in every way. The only thing you have going for you is your pretty face and beautiful body.

He’ll coo and hold you close, complimenting your beauty only to claw at you flesh. Leaving wounds and bruises on your most beautiful features. He wants to destroy your beauty out of envy, but yet it’s what attracts him to you.

Before him, your life was meaningless. So now that he’s here, you don’t exist outside of him. Without him you are nothing. Which is why he keeps you stored in his sister’s obi whenever he’s away. Sometimes leaving you for days before he wants to play with you again.

Gyutaro grew a soft spot for you because of your juxtaposition. You don’t show disgust towards things that most people consider revolting, like reptiles or people that look different from you, but yet you are the most beautiful human he’s ever seen.

Every time Gyutaro thinks of your beauty, he claws deep red wounds into his flesh, fantasizing about gutting you alive, slitting your throat while digging his hands through your intestines. But the way that you look at him prevents him from doing so. You look at him with fear in your eyes, but without a hint of disgust. After 100 years of hunting humans, Gyutaro knows the difference.

It infuriates him that he can’t bring himself to hate you for your beauty. This frustration is always taken out on you. In the form of cuts and bruises.

But after being held captive for so long, you’ve learned how to behave around him. And things do get better. 

Gyutaro is incredibly intelligent, he just doesn’t understand emotions. Especially ones that he never even got to experience as a human, let alone a demon.

He can read you like a book. Always aware of when you are plotting an escape attempt or when you are lying to him. You learn quickly that there’s no point in trying to fool him.

The thing is, eventually you have grown a soft spot for the demon. The few moments that he is vulnerable with you, have shown you a beauty that you thought impossible for a creature such as himself.

After an argument with his sister, he’ll show you a side of him that you’ve never seen before. The sadness and deep anguish that he holds within himself. No one deserves to have such pains. Even a man-eating demon like Gyutaro.

You want to comfort him and heal his wounds.

As a demon, Gyutaro doesn’t have much sexual desire. He feels no biological urge to reproduce. The only urge within him is to destroy and devour.

But when you’re around, that all changes. Something within him yearns for your touch, your love.

He’s seen humans have sex before, and even though he doesn’t quite understand it, he wants to try. It’s not uncommon for Gyutaro to witness humans having sex in the district. But now, everytime he sees such things, he imagines what it’d be like to do it with you. The tent forming in his pants isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before, but there’s an urgency behind it now. Whereas before he’d be able to ignore it. But now it seems to control his every thought. Blood and carnage replaced by thoughts of your fragile body lying beneath his.

Gyutaro isn’t embarrassed about his desire to have sex with you. He will be completely open and up front with you about it, because he’s been surrounded by sex his entire life. So to him it’s just a normal thing that humans do. He doesn’t understand the social norms/stigmas surrounding sex.

During your first time having sex, it will be the first time that he’s careful with you. 

Once he is accustomed to having sex with you, he will start being more rough. Pulling your hair, biting your neck, and thrusting his hips into you so hard that you bruise.

He’s touch starved, so it makes sense that he gets overwhelmed by the pleasure of having sex with you. He loses himself in you. Fucking you like his life depends on it, moaning and groaning with every thrust.

Even after he fills you up with his cum, he won’t stop. 

He keeps going until he can see that you are exhausted. He may be selfish but he still cares about you. He doesn’t want to push you too far past your limit and risk breaking you.

Surprisingly he’s big on aftercare. Most of the time he’ll fuck you til your legs stop working, so he takes initiative in cleaning you up and tucking you into bed. He loves cuddling you and feeling you tremble in his arms from having orgasmed so many times.

Your sexual experiences with Gyutaro changes your relationship drastically. His feelings for you start to come through in less toxic ways as he begins to understand his feelings. But when he gets annoyed by them or they become too strong, he thinks that having sex will make it go away. When in reality they just make these potent emotions even stronger.

Showing affection towards him will usually calm him down. Once you are able to love him and he can accept your love, things get much easier for the both of you.

It will take lots of time, and the likelihood of surviving that long is slim. But if you do, it’ll be well worth it.

[fallingdownhell]

Anemo men when they wake up earlier than you.

Okay, that is actually cute as hell! Also, please excuse my writing for Venti, I feel very unsure about writing him in general as I don't think I have the best grasp on his character yet

Characters Included: Xiao; Heizou; Kazuha; Venti; Wanderer

Content: gender neutral reader; fluff

Word count: 1,9k words

Enjoy reading<3

Xiao

as an adeptus, Xiao doesn't have to sleep. And he didn't for a long time

but since meeting you, he rediscovered how good and relaxing it can be to sleep in the arms of someone he loves

even though he swore to always be there for you, to protect you from every possible danger, he was the one feeling protected by you when he slept in your arms like this

he still doesn't sleep very often, since danger is always lurking and he is not fond of feeling this defenseless, but he does it often enough that both you and him feel satisfied with it

last night was one of those occaisions were he came back to you in the dead of night, and you could clearly see just how exhausted your boyfriend was

So, not needing to say anything, you just opened his arms for him, leading him to your bed, where you both feel asleep quickly in each others arms

even in his sleep, Xiao held onto you for dear life, not trusting the world around him to not just catch you away from him when you were being so vulnerable

normally, the two of you would awake around the same time in the morning, starting your routines together

this time however, when Xiao first opened his eyes, he noticed your breathing, still slow and steady, indicating that you were still fast asleep

and suddenly, he didn't know what to do

he could just get up and get ready, be on his way again, but that would put you at risk of being woken up by him, with the way you held onto him in your sleep

so, he simply surrendered, putting his hands back around you, pulling you into him a bit more, as he started to slowly stroke your back

as he lay there, lost in his thoughts, he at some point cast his gaze down towards you, admiring your sleeping face

You looked so peaceful and innocent, like nothing bad in this world could ever touch or harm you

Xiao acted on impulse when he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a few more seconds

'no matter what might come your way, I will always keep you safe.'

Heizou

I think Heizou would be a pretty heavy sleeper, but not the most out of the anemo boys

still, getting him to wake up in the morning so he isn't late for his job is a hassle

so many times you were so close to the point where you almost said 'fuck it' and just pour an ice cold bucket of water over him, but you never did, since it would only soak the mattress with it

what does get him to wake up though is the smell of food in the morning

it doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's delicious. Pancakes, fried eggs and bacon, you name it. Those simple things actually get him to finally open his eyes

He's still groggy when greeting you in the kitchen, but as soon as he gets that first bite in, his mood also lights up immediately after

That's how mornings normally go between the two of you, but today was different

Both of you had your rare day off from work, so you decided to sleep in together. And since neither of you wanted to do anything special, there were no responsibilities for the day, allowing you to just relax

when Heizou first opened his eyes that morning, the sun was already greeting him, shining directly into his eyes, which was weird since the room was facing a direction where the sun would only directly shine in here around lunchtime

it took him a moment, but when he realized how late it was, he grumbled a bit before trying to get out of bed

Key word here is trying

Because up until now, he hadn't realized that his other arm was outstretched from his body, with something weighing down on it

when he turned his head, he found you still laying next to him, your own head resting on his arm as you were tucked in close to his side, one hand resting on his chest

his heart swelled at the sight of it, and he once again thanked the gods above for giving him the chance to be with the person of his dreams

Instead of waking you up like he probably should have done, he just rolled over to his side, enveloping you in a hug

you stirred a bit in your sleep, but didn't wake up just yet.

'they really needed the sleep, huh?', he thought as he held you there, his own eyes growing heavy again as he fell into yet another slumber with you in his arms

Kazuha

A very light sleeper

From his time traveling around, he learned to always be on his guard, even when sleeping

it doesn't matter if he's outside when on travel, or in your shared bedroom with you by his side, he most likely wakes up at every little unusal sound he hears

so it is not uncommon for Kazuha to be wide awake long before you wake up

but he doesn't mind it in the slightest. He is used to it after all and he is still very much well rested, so no need to worry about him

Kazuha actually really likes this time of the day

He gets to spend time with you, undisturbed from any outside influence

Most of the times, he propts up in bed gently, so he is resting against the headboard, gently pushing your head down so it's now resting in his lap, careful to not wake you up just yet. What he does now is entirely dependent on his mood that morning

Sometimes, he just sits there, gently combing his fingers through your hair, admiring you and humming a soft tune

Other times, he takes out a little note book he started to carry around, where he writes down poems he comes up with to later recite to you. Most, if not all of them, are about you, anyway

Or, he just sits there, still combing through your hair gently, while he looks out the window, admiring the scenery in front of him, watching the sunrise, or simply observing the nature unfolding

But no matter what he does, Kazuha is at peace during those times

No thoughts of feelings that can hurt him, all because you are still peacefully resting on his lap

You bring him that inner peace without even realizing it, and for that, he will forever be grateful to you

Venti

Number one of heaviest sleepers among the anemo boys

Doesn't matter if he's drunk or not, he is out cold for good when he sleeps

as soon as his body hits the mattress and his head is either on the pillow or on you, he is a goner

sleeps cuddled up to you and in no other way, shape or form. He loves to rest his head on your chest, arms around your body to keep you close

Not giving up that for anything else in this world. This is the absolute best feeling for him

As a heavy sleeper, you are usually awake long before Venti ever is, but he still gets up at a reasonable time

mornings with him are soft and quiet as he's not quite here yet, but as soon as the morning routine is done and Venti's properly awake now, his usual loud and cheerful personality comes to shine again

on this particular day however, Venti wakes up to you still in bed with him

in fact, he is even more surprised when he realises that you're still asleep under him, breathing softly but regularly

He studies your relaxed face for a bit, a warm feeling rushing through his entire body

Deciding to just lay there a few more minutes, he puts his head back down on your chest, relishing in the feeling of your embrace

Then, after some time has passed, he feels like it's finally time for the both of you to get up and start the day. And to repay you for the gentle way that you always wake him up, he decides to be nice to you as well

Pushing himself up until he was face to face with you, he starts to litter your face with soft kisses, not stopping until you start to stirr and slowly wake up to him, still showering you in affection

in all honesty, Venti definitely could get used to this kind of morning routine as well..

Wanderer

Another boy who doesn't HAVE to sleep

He didn't do it for a very, very long time in his life

even after meeting you, and eventually getting in a relationship and living with you, he still doesn't really like to do it

the few times he tried to sleep during his life, he was haunted by nightmares, so he just stopped trying at some point

but, when the Wanderer slept in your arms for the first time, no nightmares came to haunt him. The morning after, he was so surprised by it that he wanted to test it out again. And still, the nightmares didn't show up

after realizing this, I think he would be more willing to do it from time to time, but don't expect it to happen too often. He still thinks of it as being too vulnerable and he doesn't like feeling those kinds of things

when he sleeps, he is a pretty light sleeper

he doesn't wake up at every noise like Kazuha, but it doesn't take much to awake him from his slumber again

most of the time, the night starts out with him facing you, but not getting too close. Then, gradually, he gets closer to you in his sleep and usually wakes up to the two of you tangled together, like neither of you wanted to let go of the other

he usually ends up pushing you away, resulting in you getting woken up in the process and then complaining about it, but he seemingly doesn't pay any mind to it

in reality, he does feel bad about waking you up, but he also can't handle the embarrassement of his actions when he was asleep so he does the first thing he can think of, which is pushing you away

most times he's the first to wake up and often shows the reaction previously described

however, there are mornings, where he wakes up in front of your own sleeping face and when that happens, and he sees your peaceful expression first thing in the morning, he can't bring himself to disturb you

however, he also doesn't know what else to do, so he just lays there, like an unmoving stone, just hoping that you wake up soon so he can be free again

his cheeks would be dusted in a red colour, and he's so glad that you're still asleep and unable to see it. Surely, you would never let him live it down

but, once he feels more comfortable with himself and around you, he slowly gains the courage to hold you just a tiny bit closer to him when these situations arise again

It's a process with him, like everything is. But he is willing to do better.... for you