#pocket sliding doors
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comaron · 1 year ago
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ENCRAFT uPVC Windows and Doors: Incredible Product Range
Discover the exceptional world of ENCRAFT uPVC Windows and Doors! Crafted by ENCRAFT India Pvt. Ltd., a leader in PVC extrusion, these products embody innovation and quality. From versatile Casement and Sliding Doors to modern Tilt N Turn and Vertical Slider Windows, experience elegance, efficiency, and endless possibilities. Call us at +91 8377044077 https://www.comaron.com/blog/encraft-upvc-products
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blackwatergal13 · 1 year ago
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San Francisco Farmhouse Exterior Example of a two-story, enormous, country-white wood gable roof.
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glideline · 2 years ago
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toyastales · 9 months ago
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cottageivy · 2 years ago
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the bee is still in my room but i have managed to escape and close my door. i’m waiting for my mom to wake up bc i am nothing if not a big baby :)
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steelriverdoors · 2 years ago
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Pocket Door System | Internal Doors
Get the Best Pocket Doors You're Searching For!
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Want some less space for the door to engage practicality?
Browse Steelriverdoors.co.uk for excellent pocket door system to ideally fit your requirements.
We Offer ÂŁ20 OFF On All Orders Over ÂŁ1000. LIMITED TIME OFFER!
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voidimp · 2 days ago
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has anyone made pocket doors for ts4
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slidingdoorrepair1 · 20 days ago
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Looking for reliable patio door repair in Oakland? Our expert team ensures smooth operation and security for your doors. Trust us for quick, efficient service that enhances your home’s value.
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decorationinside · 8 months ago
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Doors: More Than Just Portals in Modern Interior Design
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microphoneheartbeats · 10 months ago
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Living Room - Midcentury Living Room Example of a large mid-century modern open concept light wood floor and brown floor living room design with black walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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comaron · 1 year ago
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How to Choose the Best Manufacturer of uPVC Windows
Learn how to choose the best uPVC window manufacturer for your home, considering product range, quality, features, customization, installation, and after-sales support. Contact Comaron for uPVC doors and windows that enhance your home's aesthetics and offer durability and security. Call us at +91 8377044077 https://www.comaron.com/blog/choosing-best-manufacturer-upvc-windows
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago
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There was this tiktok trend where kids and their mums would pull a prank on their dads by telling their mums to shut up...141 with a teenage son who tries it?
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Anon, I am very aware of this prank. If mom is in on it, I consider it all in good fun, but omg, these guys would be absolutely stressed if they heard their teenage son tell mom to "shut up." Heads would absolutely roll over that!
Price is certainly old enough to have a teenage son on the older side. I would even say the same for Ghost. Gaz is old enough for a younger teenage son. With Soap's age...that's stretching it. BUT SUSPEND DISBELIEF Y'ALL. I'm aging Gaz and Soap up a bit for this one.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Presented in two double drabbles and two triple drabbles.
Task Force 141 x Female Reader (w/ children)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, pranks, domestic, dad!141, brief suggestive themes, marriage
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“Ugh. Shut up, Mum.”
There is a brief pause between mum and when the television remote hurtles across the room. Your son doesn’t duck in time, the hard plastic hitting his shoulder before bouncing onto the kitchen island with a loud clack.
Before your son turns, Kyle’s baseball cap with the Union Jack, soars through the air like a frisbee. This one your son manages to avoid, but it’s quickly followed by a slipper. It flies past his head, and you catch it out of the air before it makes contact with the front of the microwave.
You and your eldest son turn in Kyle’s direction as he manifests in the kitchen entryway, the other slipper in hand, poised to launch it at the first sign of any movement.
“Wanna repeat yourself, mate?” Kyle appears calm and poised, but you notice the subtle tension in his jaw.
“It was a joke, Dad! Promise!”
Kyle’s arm holding the slipper starts to rise.
“Kyle,” you say. His gaze flicks to you. “Just a joke. No harm. I was in on it.”
His shoulders immediately sag. Kyle shakes his head. Rolls his eyes. Heading for the fridge, he opens it up, grabbing a can of his favorite beer.
Kyle sets the beer down on the island, pointing the slipper at you and then his son. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. No words come out, just an exasperated huff.
Kyle snatches up the television remote and sticks it into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. Keeping hold of the shoe in one hand, and his beer in the other, he gives the two of you his back, heading into the living room.
“No one bother me until the game is over,” he says over his shoulder. “And someone bring me my bloody slipper!”
John Price
"Fucking hell, Mum. Shut it."
John is up and out of his seat so fast you hardly see him move. He strides over to his son, yanking him off the stool by the scruff of his shirt.
"John! It's a prank!" you say quickly, reaching for his arm.
The boy is dangling in the air, toes just shy of touching the ground. "A prank?" asks John skeptically.
"Mum is in on it. Promise."
John sighs heavily and slowly lowers his son to the ground. The moment his feet touch ground, he tries to step away, but John holds firm, keeping his eldest child immobile. He leans forward a bit. Lowers his voice.
"Prank or no, you never talk to your mother, your sisters, or any woman in that manner again. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good boy." John releases his son. "The lawn needs trimmed."
"Yes, sir."
Your son scurries away. It isn't until the door to the garage opens and shuts that John moves toward you. His arm drapes over your waist, hand landing firmly on your ass, squeezing hard.
"You're coming with me."
"To do what?"
He presses his lips to your ear. "For a different sort of punishment."
John "Soap" MacTavish
"You’re off your head, lad.”
With Johnny’s cold tone comes a tension to your son’s shoulders. He becomes rigid, sliding down into his chair like he can escape from his father by cowering underneath the table. Johnny comes around the corner, a bit of sweat on his brow. He's been building furniture all day for the nursery.
"Want to repeat that for me?" asks Johnny.
Your son’s voice cracks. "It was just a prank, Dad."
"It was what?" Johnny strides forward.
"It's a prank. I'm in on it. Promise," you say, attempting to soothe Johnny’s anger.
Johnny crosses his arms over your chest. "Is it?" He glances between the two of you and sighs, muttering, “Am pure done in.”
He disappears down the hall, returning with a stack of instructional manuals, dropping them into his son’s lap. "You're building furniture."
"But I—"
“You right scunner. C’mon.” Johnny yanks his son out of the chair, the stack of instructional manuals goes flying. Your son reaches for them all, desperately clasping them against his chest.
“Johnny," you call out, walking around the counter to intervene.
He glances over his shoulder, frown gown, sly smirk on his face. “Deal with you later."
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“Oi, Mum. Shut it.”
Your son is a wonderful actor. You’ll give him that. Even you almost believe him. Not that he would—he’d never—but his delivery reminds you of a completely pissed football fan ready to throw a punch at a member of the rival team.
He should consider theater.
Simon, your husband, is watching a rugby match in the living room. The television is on but at a low volume.
Within seconds of the words leaving your son’s mouth, Simon appears like a phantom guardian in the entryway. In one he holds the remote like a weapon. The other arm cradles his infant daughter. She looks like a small bean. Slightly curved as she snuggles closer against Simon’s chest as she sleeps.
He's not looking at you. He's staring at his son, gaze intense and full of fire.
You’ve seen that look before.
Mission abort.
"He's joking, Simon. It's just a prank,” you soothe, knowing you need to get ahead of this.
Not that Simon would hurt you or his son, but he rarely takes any shit. This prank was a gamble, and you’re completely regretting it.
"Don't mean it, Dad."
Simon just stares for a long minute. His daughter squirms and that is when he glances down, severing the connection. Observing her must change something in him, because his gaze returns to the two of you, and there is a calmness now.
Sighing heavily, Simon shakes his head, completely exasperated. The eye roll is so apparent it’s like a shout.
In the moment he was pissed—livid. But now he’s over it, more annoyed and unamused than actually mad.
Turning on his heel, daughter still cradled in one arm, Simon returns to his recliner, settling back into the soft cushions to finish watching his rugby match.
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seospicybin · 3 months ago
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THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.
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PART I
Bangchan x reader. (s,a)
Chapters: Part II / Part III
Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)
Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x
It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.
The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that
So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.
"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.
Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.
However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.
The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.
The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.
"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.
"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.
Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.
"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.
Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.
"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."
The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"
"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.
The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.
"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.
"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.
"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.
"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.
"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.
"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.
The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"
"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.
"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"
"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.
The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."
"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.
Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.
"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.
"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.
Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.
-
The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.
In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.
From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.
Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.
"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"
"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.
Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.
"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.
You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.
"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.
"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"
"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.
"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.
"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.
"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.
All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."
The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.
"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.
"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.
Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.
"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.
"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.
To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.
"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.
It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.
He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.
"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.
There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.
There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"
Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.
He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.
"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"
When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.
"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.
"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."
With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"
It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.
"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.
"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.
It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.
"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.
"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.
It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.
When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.
When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.
"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.
Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.
-
Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.
All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area
So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?
It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.
Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.
There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.
But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.
Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!
Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.
As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!
Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.
With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.
Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.
The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.
Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.
You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.
"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.
The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.
"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"
"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"
Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...
"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.
"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.
"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.
The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.
Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.
Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.
"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.
He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.
He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.
"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.
Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.
Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.
"Is that for me?"
The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.
"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.
"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."
"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."
See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.
"Thank you," you add with a smile.
Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.
It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.
Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.
"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.
"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.
It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.
"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"
You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.
"Milk would be nice," he answers.
"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.
You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.
After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.
"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.
You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.
"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.
"Oh?" You meekly gasp.
"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.
"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."
"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.
You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.
"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.
Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.
The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.
"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.
That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.
"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."
Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.
"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.
You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."
"How long you've been dating each other?"
"Three years," you answer.
"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.
Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.
"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.
"My help?"
"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.
"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.
It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."
Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.
"I guess you want to let him down gently?"
"Yes," you answer.
"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."
Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.
"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.
"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.
Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.
"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.
"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.
"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.
You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.
"She already left," you tell him.
Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.
"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.
"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.
Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.
You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.
"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.
The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.
The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.
"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.
"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.
Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.
"How did it go?" He asks.
"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.
Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.
"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.
"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.
"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.
It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.
"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.
Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.
"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.
Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.
"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.
Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.
"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.
"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."
Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.
"We can practice, you know," he offers.
"Practice?"
"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.
He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.
The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.
"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.
Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door
-
Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.
The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.
The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.
"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"
Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.
"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.
"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.
"That sounds nice," you easily respond.
"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?
"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.
"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."
You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.
"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.
"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.
"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"
"So glad," you lie, again and again.
"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.
"Okay."
"Don't forget the wine!"
"I won't."
"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.
The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."
"I love you, bye."
Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.
Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.
Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"
"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.
It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.
You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.
"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.
He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."
You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.
However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.
"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"
Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.
The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.
"Get it together!" You scold yourself.
After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.
"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.
"Hardly," he jokes.
You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.
"Okay, so, why am I here?"
You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."
It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.
"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.
"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"
You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.
"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.
Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.
"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.
"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.
It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.
"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."
Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.
Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.
"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.
"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.
Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.
"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.
"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.
The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.
He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."
You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.
He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.
"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.
It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.
-
It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.
Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.
Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.
But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.
"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.
You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.
Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.
"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.
Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.
"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.
"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.
When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.
"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.
"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.
You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.
"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.
"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"
The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.
Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.
From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.
"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.
"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.
Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.
The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.
"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.
You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.
He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.
"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."
Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.
To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.
As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.
He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.
As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.
"I want this, Chris," you croak.
"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.
"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.
You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.
"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.
This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.
He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.
"Yes," you answer without a beat.
That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.
Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.
Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.
He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.
He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.
To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.
"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.
He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.
"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.
He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.
The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.
Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.
At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.
"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.
Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.
You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.
Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.
The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.
He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.
Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.
He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.
On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.
He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.
Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.
You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.
He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.
"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.
You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.
Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.
"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.
It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.
Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.
"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.
Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.
He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.
As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.
He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.
"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.
Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.
A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.
The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.
Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.
"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.
Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.
"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.
He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.
He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.
Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.
The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.
"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."
Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.
"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.
"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.
Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.
When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.
-
A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.
He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.
Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.
Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.
Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.
At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.
Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.
You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.
Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.
"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.
"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.
Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.
"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.
"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."
Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"
"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.
"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.
You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"
"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.
"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.
"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.
Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.
"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.
He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."
You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.
You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.
"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.
You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.
There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.
He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"
You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.
Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.
The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.
"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.
His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"
"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."
And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?
Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.
"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.
You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.
Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.
That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.
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toyastales · 2 months ago
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A colorful dining room
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oceantornadoo · 9 months ago
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protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in
“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.
“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.
“‘ello?”
“si- simon, it’s me.”
“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.
“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.
“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”
9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.
suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.
“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.
twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.
“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.
“you win.”
fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.
“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.
“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”
“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.
“we’re not together anymore, simon.”
“you’re still my wife.”
silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.
“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.
“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.
“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.
----
idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately
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sturnioz · 5 months ago
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‘RAW’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO
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pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, established relationship au.
word count. 3.5k
❝so, i can just slide right in, feel you
 fill you up
❞
content warnings. explicit content, starts with sweet!matt then spirals to pussy drunk!matt, unprotected sex, creampie, heavy use of the petnames 'sweetheart' and 'baby', dirty talking, matt is also kinda goofy in this.
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“I’ve missed you.” Matt mouths at your skin, his arms tight around your waist as he pulls you against his chest, breathing in the scent of your body wash and perfume as he nuzzles his head into the crevice of your neck.
You smile warmly, melting into his embrace as your fingers lace through his curls and he hums at the soft tugs you give, sucking and nipping at the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.
“Ow,” You hiss through giggles as Matt bites down a little too hard at your skin and your body angles away from him, only for him to whine and try to draw you back to him, muttering an apology against your neck as he tightens his hold on you. “We can’t stand here all day, Matt.”
Matt huffs as if what you’ve said is something so offensive that hurts his feelings, and his shoulders sag as he reluctantly lets you go, but slips his hand into your own instead, intertwining your fingers as he allows you to pull him to a more suitable place than your front door.
He drags his sock covered feet across the floorboards as he takes in your home, a comforting warmth spreads through his chest.
Matt misses being at your place; that sweet, familiar smell of a candle that was previously burning fills his senses, the hum of the TV playing your favourite show in the background, the subtle misplaced ornaments and potted plants that you’ve picked up to move or to admire. 
He takes a quick glance at your kitchen as he passes it, noticing a dish and bowl soaking in soapy water, and he smiles when knowing you have eaten already. He wonders if it was something delicious or filling for you. 
He wants to ask what it could’ve been, but the question remains on the tip of his tongue as you’re pulling him towards the direction of your bedroom.
And that’s when he feels most at home.
The bag that was once resting on his shoulders slumps to the ground and mindlessly kicked to the side as his body finally relaxes, the tiredness that he’s so used to pushing to the back of his mind comes front and centre as he sluggishly makes his way towards the unmade bed, sitting himself down on the edge. 
The hand that’s holding yours pulls you forward to stand between his parted legs, and he rests his cheek on your stomach as he embraces you like he once did a few minutes prior, exhaling happily as your fingers resume playing with his curly hair. 
“How was the trip?”
“Good,” Matt’s tone is quiet and gentle. “Nick was actin’ as our tour guide and was takin’ us to all these cool places,” He moves his head a little to look up at you, resting his chin on your stomach. “I took some pictures for you—ones I haven’t sent you yet.”
You’re more than eager to see what pictures Matt wants to show you, and you gentle push him up the bed for him to lay comfortably and he giggles, reaching his hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone while his arm curls around you, holding you close to his side and pressing his lips to the top of your head, finding comfort in the scent of your shampoo. 
He unlocks his phone, clicks the camera roll app and your eyes widen in excitement at seeing all the recent photos Matt failed to show you previously. 
You’re in awe watching him scroll through the photos; some of him and his brothers, amateur photoshoots, and the scenery and the colours of skies leaves you speechless, hanging onto every word as he tells you the story behind them all, some comical and others sweet and endearing. 
“Seein’ this one, like, reminded me of you, y’know,” He whispers against your head as he shows you a picture of a sunset, a blend of pinks and oranges making your heart flutter. “It’s pretty—calmin’, makes me feel at ease. It made me miss you even more than I already did, was killin’ me.”
“You called me every night.” You remind him, letting out a laugh as he groans and rolls his eyes, throwing his phone to the side before gripping your hips and pulling your body on top of his. He massages your thighs with his fingers, kneading the skin as they settle on each of his sides.
“You know it’s not the same,” Matt argues, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “I love hearin’ your voice over the phone but, come on, havin’ you there with me physically means more to me. I get to hold you, I get to touch you
 I get to kiss you.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Matt hums with a short nod of his head before he lifts his head up to meet your lips in a short but sweet kiss, squeezing your thighs once you reciprocate and he grins against your lips when he feels your hands cradle his cheeks. 
Then, you feel it.
His hard cock pressing your inner thigh, twitching with each subtle movement of your hips as you rest your entire weight down on him, eliciting a grunt due to the pressure on his cock.
“Are you tired?” You pull away from his lips to ask him, biting back the smile that threatens to spread across your cheeks as Matt follows, wanting your mouth back on his. 
“A bit,” He admits, exhaling deeply. “But I don’t care. Just wan’ you.”
Warmth fills your chest, “You want me?”
“Yeah, bad. So bad.”
You don’t have time to swoon over his words as he’s already leaning up and reconnecting your lips in a much deeper kiss, biting down on your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth to glide across your own all while his hands sip around to grab at your ass, pulling you even closer so that you’re pressed against him fully. 
You kiss for a while, relishing in the way his lips feel on yours, familiar with the slow and unrushed pace he takes. Your hand curls around the front of his shirt, signalling for him to take it off immediately and he grins against your mouth, breaking the kiss for a moment to allow you to pull the material over his head. 
He gives you a toothy smile, his eyes twinkling with adoration as he stares up at you and his fingers twitch over the hem of your shirt, ready to take it off and you happily give him permission to do so, raising your arms in the air.
Matt tugs it off, throwing it carelessly to the side before his hands caress your skin, palms hot and clammy as he brings you in for another kiss, one that is more desperate and needy.
Matt’s moaning shamelessly into your mouth when your hands dip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, your fist curling around his cock and giving him a few experimental pumps that has him almost draw blood on your lip when he bites down a little too hard. 
“Easy.” You hum with a giggle and Matt groans, craning his neck as he throws his head back against the pillows, tongue licking his bottom lip as your hand squeezes around his cock.
He lifts his hips as you begin to rid him of the rest of his clothing, and you awkwardly manoeuvre above him, laughing as you almost topple over but you remain seated thanks for the hold he has on your hips. 
“You go easy, sweetheart.” Matt teases you this time and you roll your eyes.
You drop your hands from his to finally peel off the rest of your own clothes and he watches you with hooded lids, one hand resting behind his head with the other wraps around his cock to jerk himself off as he takes in the sight of your naked body—something he’s seen plenty times before but he views it as if it’s the first time, absorbing himself in your curves, the swell of your breasts and your pretty pussy. 
You raise a brow, “Like what you see.”
Matt grins, “Always.”
You get a little shy at his compliment but continue to lean forwards to capture his lips in a kiss which he immediately reciprocates, his hand resting on the back of your neck to keep you still against his lips, and he moans as your tongue slips inside his mouth to touch his own. 
He’s still touching himself between your bodies, hips fucking up into his fist and gasping in your mouth when the tip grazes over your skin, the sensitivity sending goosebumps down his spine.
You pull away from his lips much to his dismay, and he tries to pull you back in but falters when he sees you making your way down his body, leaving a trail of kisses behind which makes him moan again, his mouth falling slack as he feels your tongue lick a clean stripe down his navel.
Your fingers brush over his inner thighs, smiling when his cock twitches against his stomach. You stroke further and further up his skin before your fingers grip his cock, hearing the slight hiss he makes through gritted teeth. 
You hum softly, leaning in closer to wrap your lips around his tip. 
“Ah—fuck, wait!” Matt suddenly speaks up and you stop in surprise, bringing your gaze up from his cock to his face, and he reaches his hand down to touch your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. He looks like he’s in pain, but he explains; “I’ll cum too quickly if you suck my cock, seriously. I will cum the second I feel your tongue on me again.”
That makes you even more eager to shove his cock down your throat, and you tighten your fingers around the base which elicits a gasp from his lips. “I don’t mind.”
“But I do,” Matt weakly pushes your hand away, and his cock slaps back against his stomach. His hips jerk upwards at the sudden contact, “Oh fuck—sweetheart, I’ve been waitin’ for this for so long. I want to cum fuckin’ you—please, I just—” Matt winces as his hand comes down to cup his balls, almost as if he’s trying to stop himself from cumming right then and there from his own words. “I wan’ to fuck you, baby.”
You would awe at the sight if it wasn’t for the way he’s looking at you right now, so desperate and needy to be inside of you, and you’re more than welcome to give him exactly what he wants as you nod your head quickly, watching as his shoulders drop with a relieved sigh. 
Matt gently pushes you down on the bed to crawl above you, kneeling between your parted thighs and he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him to fuck.
He’s quick to lean over to yank open the drawers of your nightstands, digging his hand inside to search around for the box of condoms he knows you have ready for him when he’s over. 
Matt pulls out the box and leans back on his ankles as he dips his hand inside, and you wait patiently for him to pull out the packet and roll it onto his cock, but the way his body freezes in place and face drops, you know something is wrong. 
You grow concerned, leaning up on your elbows as you call out his name, “Matt?”
“No, no, no—fuck no,” Matt mumbles repeatedly under his breath as he turns the box upside down and shakes aggressively, praying that a condom will magically appear out of thin air and lay across the palm of his hand, but it remains empty. “Fuuuck, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”
You gape at him in shock, “There’s no condoms left?”
“There’s no condoms left.” Matt echoes your words, and he throws the empty box down on the bed. 
He runs his hand over his face in annoyance, tears of frustration prickling at his eyes. You watch as his eyebrows knit together, how his jaw clenches and nostrils flare in anger. It was a sight you’re definitely not used to seeing, but it’s something that has your thighs clenching for some sort of friction below. 
“Hey
 it’s okay,” You try to reassure him as his cheeks get a little red, and you reach up to stoke his arm. “We must’ve used the last one before you left for your trip without knowing.”
“I should’ve been prepared or somethin’, like, I should’ve bought a pack before coming here—I shouldn’t have relied on you to have the condoms but, fuck, I was just so fuckin’ excited to see my girlfriend that I didn’t even think about—”
“Baby, it’s okay.” You try to cut off his rambling by reassuring him again, but it seems to not work as he continues. 
“And now we have nothin’ and I’m just—” His hands wave over his hard cock comically, and you hold back a snort, watching as he runs his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “A’ight, I should just, like, make you cum on my tongue, and then I’m goin’ to jerk off in the—”
“No!” You raise your voice this time, startling Matt who stares at you with wide eyes, and you immediately apologise. “I’m sorry—sorry, baby. But.. you don’t need to do that, it’s okay.”
“Then what are we goin’ to do?” He questions with a whiny tone that has your head reeling and pussy begging to be fucked. The way he’s staring at you so desperately and in pain is enough for you to come up with an idea. 
“How about we just do it raw this time?”
Matt’s silent. 
He blinks.
He opens his mouth.
He closes it.
He blinks again. 
“Raw? Like, without a condom?” 
“Yes.”
“Sweetheart
” Matt sighs softly as his hands rub your thighs, “We can’t do that. We can’t risk anything, y’know, and even though I’m certain I’m goin’ to spend the rest of my fuckin’ life with you and start a family
 we really can’t risk it. It’s too soon, and we’re both not ready for that shit either.”
You frown, “I know that. But nothing will happen, I promise. I’m on the pill.”
Matt’s silent again. 
He blinks.
He opens his mouth to croak out, “What?”
“I’ve been on the pill for a few months,” You tell him nonchalantly, and he looks at you as if you’ve kept such a big secret away from him. “Remember that night when the condom broke and we panicked?” Matt nods his head once. “I went on the pill the day after that. I didn’t want us to have another scare or anything.”
“You’ve been on the pill
 for five months?” Matt asks you, and you hum to confirm it’s true. He gapes in shock, and his gaze flits down to your pussy in disbelief. “We could’ve done this five months ago?”
You struggle to hold back a laugh this time, the sound stifled by your lips. “Yes.”
“So, I can just
” Matt’s voice trails off as he shuffles forward, the tip of his cock brushing over your folds and you gasp as he presses over your clit, your thighs clamping around his hips. “I can just slide right in, feel you
 fill you up
”
He’s mumbling now, some words incoherent while others are clear as day, his lewdness making your face hot. His cock nudges your opening, almost teasing you by not fucking you immediately and you bite back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.
You suck in a deep breath as Matt finally pushes into you, and his eyes grow wide, mouth slack as he feels the warmth of your walls fit snugly around his cock. His body is frozen above you, his cock pulsing as he feels you bare for the first time.
His eyes flit to yours and suddenly, his gaze darkens, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your waist.
You go to call out his name, to ask him if he’s alright but a surprised yelp flees past your lips as his hips snap forwards, burying himself deep inside your pussy. Your arms sling around his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he pants above you.
“Feels so fuckin’ good, baby,” Matt grunts under his breath, fucking himself into your deeper and you wail, locking your legs around his waist. “Feel so tight. All for me—yeah. Jus’ for me. So fuckin’ good. My pretty fuckin’ girl and her perfect pussy.”
You try to speak—to call out his name but you’re stuttering your words with each thrust. The bed creaks beneath your bodies, and the headboard hits against the wall, but you could care less about the noise, you’re too surprised to see the sudden change in your boyfriend's mood.
His tone and his words is enough to have you gaping at him, broken moans ripping through your throat at how fucking filthy he sounds, how he uncontrollably mutters how good your cunt fits snug around his cock and how we you are for him.
You’re not used to this.
You’re used to the sweet talk, the light feathery kisses he leaves on your skin in his path, the words of affectionate praises and gentle whispers of ‘i love yous’.
You’re not complaining, though. Never.
Seeing Matt’s switch up from fucking you raw for the first time has your mind spinning and electricity buzzing down your spine. Your fingernails dig further into his shoulder blades and your pussy clamps around his cock tightly, causing him to curse loudly.
“Fuck—that’s it. That’s it, sweetheart. Tight lil’ cunt squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good,” Matt whispers in your ear, almost sounding like a whine. “My girl. My fuckin’ girl.”
“Please,” You begin to beg, even though you have no idea what you’re begging for. “Please, please, please—”
“Gonna fill you up, fuck you full of my cum,” Matt drawls, his pace quickening as his cock drills into you, and his hands grip your waist tighter when he hears you moan for him. “You wan’ that? Yeah? Wan’ me to fill you up? Fuck this cunt full?”
You’re already letting yourself go just from his words alone, your orgasm crashing over you like an aggressive wave and your body seizes up, almost sobbing from the pleasure as he fucks you through it, thumbing at your clit without any signs of stopping.
Your pussy contracts around his cock, sucking him in deeper, squeezing around him tighter which causes his hips to stutter their movements, a grunt slipping past his lips before he leans back on his knees. His hands slide down your waist to grip your thighs, keeping you locked against him as he watches your cunt taking in his cock, ready to be filled.
“Good girl
 keep doin’ that f’me. Feels so good, sweetheart.” Matt’s moaning under his breath, airy moans turning into whines as he feels your walls tighten around him, too overwhelmed by the feeling that he suddenly stills, a throating groan leaving his lips as he cums, filling you up just as planned.
Matt’s breathing heavily, mesmerised with the way he’s emptying himself inside you, watching as his cock twitches as his cum fills you up. He doesn’t pull away until he’s certain that there’s nothing else left to give, and he winces out of sensitivity as he slowly moves back to pull out, his cock laying limp against his thigh.
“What was that?” You breathe out heavily as you lean up on your elbows to look at him. “Where did that come from?”
“I dunno,” Matt mumbles, his cheeks blossoming a reddish hue as he refuses to meet your eyes—that shy and sweet persona falling back into place. He can’t seem to tear his gaze away from your pussy, his lips parted as his fingers delicately stroke your pussy folds. “Was I too much, though?”
“No,” You quickly shake your head to reassure him. “I liked it.”
“Yeah? You did?” Matt finally meets your gaze and you smile at him as you nod your head this time. Matt sheepishly grins back and his eyes flit back down to his fingers that circle around your hole that leaks with his cum, and he makes the sudden decision to push it all back in, causing you to gasp and whine softly. “Sorry
 jus’ don’t want anythin’ to go to waste.”
You laugh lightly at his words, “Go to waste?”
“Mm,” Matt nods his head, retracting his hand and staring at the cum that covers his fingers, that dark expression taking over once again as he looks right at you. “I’m never wearin’ a condom again
 y’know that right?”
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© sturnioz
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