#but the bright side is that so have so little few other people so it's not like anybody will call me out lol

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 24

masterpost

“We should make H— Jason spend some time in here,” Danny said. He was good with the rest of the name now, but he still struggled with with Jason. He was trying. “He could use the reason to relax.”

“I do not believe that Todd is capable of relaxing,” Damian said with a little frown and Danny was pretty sure meant Damian was uncertain, but other people tended to think that it meant Damian was judging them.

“Sure he can. He makes a great pillow too,” Danny said. He leaned over and bumped his shoulders against Damian’s. “Totally bet if you just just sat down and leaned against him, he wouldn’t do anything.”

“Tch.”

“Okay, sure, half of that would be because he’d be too shocked, but really. He’s secretly a cuddler but, like, in a totally different way than Dick. Jason is more like Cass is.”

Damian’s brows were knitted together, but he gave a considering little nod at that.

Danny was glad that Damian went through the door to the hall first. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, exactly, but being out of the apartment now felt wrong and bad and… scary. Danny knew that had delayed them taking him to the Manor and was making some of them anxious, but Danny just couldn’t… it was hard to shake, even if everywhere they went had been safe.

“How were the kittens, Dandelion?” Jason asked. He was leaning against one wall and Lacey stood next to him, looking at something on her phone.

“Pointy,” Danny said with a little smile, “and very cute.”

“We are going to go see the dogs now instead,” Damian said.

“Okay,” Lacey said with a smile. “Your brother and I were talking about what might work for you. I think we have a few options, but I actually have someone in mind for you to meet first of the bunch. She might not work at all but… I have a hunch.”

“As ludicrous as it sounds, Ms. Lacey’s hunches do often play out,” Damian said. “Which dog are we going to see?”

“You haven’t met her yet. She just came here from another shelter because the last one didn’t have the space for her. Before that she was out in the suburbs where she had been adopted, but she kept trying to herd all the other animals and children. They got her from a shelter where she had been surrendered by her owners because they moved to a new apartment that wouldn’t let a dog like her in.”

Danny frown grew as Lacey talked. “Oh, wow… she’s been through a lot of homes, hasn’t she?”

“She has, and it’s really not her fault. She’s only a year and a half old, so she’s still a bit of a puppy and will need training, but she’s a real sweetheart and I think she just needs the right person to love her back.” Lacey paused in front of a door and opened it to some sort of waiting room. “Now, she is a large dog, so I’ll keep her on a harness when I bring him in and you let me know when you’re comfortable for her to come close, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny agreed. He knew he had told Damian not small, but he was suddenly a little concerned by how large was large.

Jason must have been able to tell, because he led Danny over to the small couch to sit down with him while Damian scooted the chair he chose closer to Danny’s open side.

Very, was the answer to how large was large a few minutes later when Lacey brought in a huge dog. The bright red harness barely visible through the mass of black fur that seemed to stand straight out from the dog in a massive mane.

“Okay, come on girl, down,” Lacey said, drawing out the words.

When the large, deep black eyes turned to her, she pointed purposefully at the ground. The dog huffed and settled on the floor looking like some avant guard throw pillow. She snuffed curiously at the group and shuffled forward a few inches on her belly before peering up at Lacey to see if she was noticed.

“Stay. Like I said, still a puppy,” Lacey said fondly.

“What breeds do we suspect she is?” Damian asked.

“She’s definitely a large part chow,” Lacey answered. “She has the black mouth and everything. We’re guessing black lab maybe as some of the rest or some other sporting dog. From those breeds, and her behavior so far, she’s going to be loyal and protective. She will need to be exercised as specially at this age she’ll have a lot of energy, but I know you have the yard to let her run. Fetch or retrieval games will be great stimulation for her and walks can probably be kept pretty short, but I know that Damian could help you train her. Do you want to come over here and let her smell your hand? Or we could just let her settle in and wander the room.”

“I’ll, um…” Danny trailed off as he moved to sit down on the ground at Jason’s feet. He leaned forward and offered his hand, stretching out as far as he could.

The mass of fluff crept forward a few inches, then a few more, and the last few to where she was close enough to sniff at Danny’s hand. The curly tail started to wag before the dog gave Danny’s hand a lick.

A small smile lit up Danny’s face. “Oh, you’re just a big fluffy sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“She really is. She gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes every time someone passes her and doesn’t give her attention. She really wants nothing more than to be with people or other pets and part of a family,” Lacey said.

Danny watched the dog snuff at Danny’s hand before he decided that it was probably okay to move forward a little more so that he could pet the dog. His fingers sank into the thick black fur and the curly tail started to wag.

“She’s kinda like a big teddy bear,” Danny said, completely missing the look that Damian and Jason exchanged behind his back at that statement.

“Chows are like that.,” Lacey agreed. “They get a bad rep because they can be really protective of their owners, so if she’s the dog you go with, you will need to work on socializing her. Taking her to the dog park or things like that would be a good step.”

“It will help that there is such a large amount of family and acquaintances coming and going from the manor,” Damian added. “But if she is the dog that will be yours, we can easily set up a plan for socialization.”

“I, um, I’ve never adopted a pet before. How do I know if she’s the right one?” Danny asked.

“Seeing if you get a long is a good start. With a big dog like her, I think you should walk him a little and play some. We can try some tricks too and see how she listens to you,” Lacey said. “We have a two week trial window where if you think she’s the right dog, she’ll go home with you and you can see how it all works out. If it doesn’t, she comes back here no issues.”

Danny took in a calming breath and let it out. “Okay, let’s see how it goes.”

The dog was a lot. There was no doubt about that what with her size, but she did seem very eager to listen. She apparently walked very well with Danny, even if that was almost sandwiched up against Danny’s side between him and the road. It reminded him of how Jason always walked, as if guarding Danny from the world.

There back at the shelter now. Danny buried his fingers in the dog’s thick fur, ruffling it idly.

“What do you guys think?” he asked his brothers.

“I think that she will be a loyal dog for you,” Damian said, “and that training her may also be beneficial for you.”

“That,” Jason said, “and that she likes you already just like you like her already. I think the only real question is what’s her name going to be?”

Danny looked down at the almost bottomless seeming brown eyes that were staring adoringly back up at him. “Ursa. Her name’s Ursa.”

-

Ursa took to the Manor immediately— or at least took next to being by Danny’s side in the manor. His bed seemed much smaller with her laying next to him, but he had a feeling it he woke up that night with a nightmare that it wouldn’t last long.

His fingers tightened in her mane as he took a breath and hit send on the text message to Babs.

Her name is Jasmine Fenton.

[junrenjun]

8:13 PM

lee jeno x reader

“These are so cute,” you mutter, lifting another one of the pictures off the table. The wedding is finally settling down a bit, a few people out on the dance floor while others talk amongst themselves at the tables. The rest of your tablemates have scattered around the room, leaving only you and Jeno. 

Your boyfriend has his arm wrapped around the back of your chair, gazing down at the picture in your hands. “Mhm,” he hums, “should save that to a Pinterest board for our wedding.” 

He says it so casually you almost choke on air. “Our wedding? You want to marry me?” you question. Now, you and Jeno have been dating for quite some time now. But not enough to truly, seriously talk about marriage. Nothing more than a few casual conversations about what the future could hold. Yet he says those words like you’re already engaged. 

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging his shoulders lightly. “You do want to get married, right?” He seems a little tentative now. Like he’s worried that he scared you off.

You’re quick to ease the tension. “Of course I want to get married. I just didn’t think you’d bring it up so nonchalantly like that.” 

He smiles back at you with that crinkle in his eyes you love so much. Removing his hand from the back of your chair, he reaches out to grab the picture from you. He looks down at it with admiration. “I can already think of the pictures we could use,” he admits. “Like that one of you sleeping in the laundry basket. That one is cute.”

You giggle at his statement. “Okay,” you concede. “But only if we get to include the one where you are blowing bubbles with that weird pinwheel hat on.” 

He sets the picture down, ruffling your hair a bit. “I think someone has had one too many of these,” he teases, pushing your champagne glass further away from you. You roll your eyes at him. 

Jeno goes to say something once again, but is interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He turns around to see your little cousin, her eyes pointed bashfully toward the floor and rocking on her heels. “Hello Aria,” he says, provoking her to actually look at him. “Whatcha need?”

She looks at you hesitantly before looking back toward your boyfriend. “Can you…dance with me, Jeno?” she whispers. The question has you realizing that the song has now switched to something slower, a few couples adorning the dance floor. How cute, you think to yourself. 

“Of course,” he responds, grinning down at the girl. Before she knows it, Jeno is scooping her up, carrying her to the dance floor. You can hear her giggles fade as they reach the other side of the room. 

Taking a breath, you look back toward the table, grabbing your champagne glass and another picture. Your moment of peace doesn’t last long though, because someone plops down in the seat next to you less than a minute later. When you look up, you spot your grandmother. “It’s a shame you didn’t participate in the bouquet toss. I was hoping you two would be next,” she taunts, looking pointedly at you. 

You set the items down, opting to run your hands over your face in embarrassment. “Ah, grandma!” you complain. “You know we don’t believe in superstitious stuff like that. We’ll get there in our own time.” 

She nods in understanding, but still smirks. Leaning closer to you, she begins to whisper. “You two would make me some beautiful grandbabies.” 

Now you’re really blushing. Thoughts of having a mini Jeno running around your grandmother’s house flash through your mind. You try your best to push them away. “Seriously, amma?” you exclaim, though there’s no malice in your voice. 

She points across the room. You follow her movements to find Jeno with a bright smile on his face, Aria twirling around in his arms. He reaches down to brush a strand of hair out of her face. You can’t help but gaze longingly at the scene, wishing that it was a daughter of your own. Your grandmother calls your name once more and you turn back to look at her. “If the next wedding I attend isn’t yours, that boy is getting a serious talk from me,” she says smugly. Without another word, she scoots back in her chair, walking back toward her own table. 

You steal a glance at the bride and groom’s table. They’re lightly making conversation, her head resting against his shoulder. His arm is wrapped around her shoulder with his hand hanging down to brush comforting strokes down her arm. Maybe that could be you and Jeno sometime soon.

Startled out of your thoughts once again, you see your boyfriend plop down next to you. Your cousin is nowhere to be found, likely back with her parents once again. “What were you and your grandma talking about?” he asks. 

“Just about how she thinks you and I should be the next ones to be married. Said that we would make beautiful grandbabies.” you say, repeating her words with your own smirk.

It’s Jeno’s turn to blush, looking down at the floor. “We would,” he admits with a shy smile.

[demigodsanswer]

Percabeth + coffee shop au + holiday au?

The holiday part of this is a bit squint and you miss it. I meant for there to be more, but alas.

Percy had wanted to open up a bakery, but a coffee shop that sold pastries seemed more lucrative. In hindsight, he was glad he made that choice. He wasn't sure Annabeth ever would have stepped inside if he only sold apple turnovers and cupcakes.

She came in every morning, dressed like a young professional, her hair back in a ponytail usually, high heels sticking out of her purse, flat shoes on her feet. When she got in line, Percy knew to start making her soy latte extra shot before she even made it to the register. Sometimes he slipped one of their vegan brownies in too, on the house.

(He never asked if she was vegan or if soy milk was just a taste thing, but his ex was lactose intolerant. Last thing he wanted to do was ruin her day.)

"Thanks Percy," she said, grabbing her drink seconds after paying for it. He handed her the brownie, in a clear sleeve with their "vegan" sticker on it. She smiled and accepted it graciously. "You're a hero," she said.

"Don't worry about it," he promised.

So, maybe he had a thing for one of his patrons. It didn't matter that much. She was about his age (probably), and never yelled at his staff. Her seven dollar daily latte was keeping his lights on. And she was maybe the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"Do you think I should add more vegan options?" He asked Grover. Grover was the lead barista and his business partner. He some how sourced fair trade coffee they could actually afford.

"It's better for the environment," was Grover's response.

"So, yes?" Percy asked.

"Give it a shot. Everyone loves a little vegan treat."

"No, you love a little vegan treat. Most people think they taste like sand," Percy said.

"That's an exaggeration. Your brownie is delicious. And I'm sure whatever you make, Annabeth will love it."

Percy bright red face ended that conversation. "I'm going to to hang the Christmas lights," he said, heading out into the cold without a jacket in the hopes that his face went back to normal.

~

Percy kept the coffee shop opened later than was maybe wise, but he worked most of the late shift hours by himself or with Meg, a high school kid working after school. They always got a few late afternoon coffee drinkers, and a couple of high school kids sitting to do homework.

Percy had to be there anyway. He was working on a few new vegan options. The holiday season was a good time to find out what people liked; they were more likely to treat themselves to something sweet.

He'd worked out a good vegan pumpkin pie, which they sold by the slice. That was a hit, although he was still working to get the crust perfect. The oatmeal cookie had been easy enough. The Nutella banana bread was actually so good that Annabeth ordered it the next morning. Percy made a note to keep it on the menu.

The holiday brought festive drinks too. He needed to compete with Starbucks, so he offered peppermint ... everything, caramel everything, and pumpkin everything. He was hanging a sign in the window advertising their peppermint mocha when he spotted a familiar face on the other side of the glass.

Annabeth smiled at him. It was six at night. They were only open for another hour. And she never stopped by after work. She must have come right from the office, because she still had her heels on.

The bell rang as she opened the door. "Are you still open?" She asked.

"Sure am," Percy confirmed. He would have said yes even if that wasn't true. "Soy latte?"

She shook her head. "No, no. Um, what about that --" she pointed towards the sign, "peppermint mocha?"

"You got it," Percy said, heading back behind the counter. "Soy?"

"Sure."

"I don't have a dairy-free whip cream," he said. He made a note to try and find one. Frank would like it.

"Regular is fine," she said. "I'll treat myself. Decaf though," Annabeth added.

"Are you vegan?" Percy asked as he brewed the espresso.

"I try but fail a lot. I'm pretty good at avoiding meat, but real dairy is just too good," Annabeth said.

"Easier to bake with too," Percy said. "For here or to go?" He had a to-go cup in his hand out of habit, but Annabeth had settled down at one of the open tables.

"Here," she said. Percy made the drink in a large ceramic mug.

"What brings you in tonight?" He asked, as he dropped off the coffee.

He didn't have anything pressing in the back, and there were only two college students diligently working on the other side. He could chat for a while.

As if reading his mind, Annabeth used her foot to push a chair out for him. Percy said down as she took the first sip. She closed her eyes and sighed happily.

"That's so good," she said. Percy was pretty sure he was flushed again. He hoped it went away before she could open her eyes. "It was just one of those long end-of-the-year work days, you know? Everyone rushing to get things done. I wanted something to cheer me up, and I walked by and thought ..." she looked at him in a new, attentive way he'd never caught before. "... a warm drink sounds nice."

"I hope it helped," he said.

"It is," she promised.

"I've got a new vegan cinnamon roll I'm testing. Want to try it?" Percy offered.

"How is it?" She asked.

"Not sure, they're fresh, first round," he said.

"I guess I can help test it for you," Annabeth said with a smile.

Percy jumped up and came back a minute later with one round roll on a plate and two forks.

He tried not to be too creepy as he watched her take a bite, savor it, and then carefully make up her mind.

"It's a little dry," she determined. "The icing is great, and the taste is good, but ..."

Percy took his own bite and nodded. "Too much cinnamon. It dries it out."

"Still pretty delicious," Annabeth said, going for another bite, "especially for not having half the ingredients that make food taste good."

"Thanks!" Percy said with a wide smile. "You know, my co-owner Grover is vegan."

"Oh, is he the motivation for all the new treats?" Annabeth asked.

"Uh, sure," Percy said, barely playing off that she was the real reason, not his best friend of almost twenty years, "but he was telling me about this new vegan restaurant. He says it's pretty good."

Annabeth was smiling, and she had a mischievous look in her eyes that told him she was six steps ahead of him.

"Oh?" She said innocently, going for another bite of the cinnamon roll, but not actually putting the fork in her mouth yet. "Have you tried it?" She asked, finally taking a bite.

"No, I was wondering if you'd maybe want to go with me? If you're not too busy?" He hadn't planned to ask her out today. He was thinking of maybe doing something corny and easy to ignore, like writing his phone number on her to-go cup. But he was in it now.

"I'd love to," she promised. Annabeth reached into her bag and pulled out a business card, and then shook her head. "Is this horribly impersonal and --?"

"It's alright," Percy said, "as long as I don't have to fax you the date information." There was a fax number on the card.

"Please don't, it's a communal machine," she said, "and older than I am."

"Alright, I won't," Percy promised. He didn't have a business card of his own, just ones with the coffee shop's information. So instead he did what most modern people did: he texted the cell number on her business card with a simple hey it's percy and a coffee cup emoji.

Annabeth smiled and took a second to save the number.

"So," she said, picking up her still-full drink. "Why did you start making vegan pastries?"

She had that I'm way ahead of you look in her eyes again. Percy swallowed hard.

"Um ..."

[tiramisuucakeee]

ANGEL FOOD ★

( reader x park sunghoon )

IN WHICH: sunghoon is glad he got in the way of an angel’s painting in the park, wondering when they would meet again.

BTW: omg why is this man so winter, cherry blossom, vanilla latte, christmas cookie frosting, mini marshmallow coded

read more !

sunghoon stepped lightly over the spring-kissed grass, his gaze occasionally flicking down to gaeul, his fluffy dog, who trotted happily beside him.

the park was alive with the warmth of the season, cherry blossoms fluttered like soft pink confetti in the breeze, and the earth smelled fresh, still waking from the chill of winter. petals were scattered across the pathway, a gentle carpet of white and blush that his boots crunched against with every step.

gaeul, tail wagging, sniffed eagerly at the flowers and the air, clearly as enchanted by the day as sunghoon. it was peaceful here. quiet except for the rustle of leaves and distant chatter of other park-goers. just the way sunghoon liked it.

as they neared the small pond, he slowed his pace, letting her explore the surrounding area. the dog paused at the water's edge, his ears perking at something unseen. sunghoon adjusted the leash, pulling his attention away from his pet. that’s when he heard it.

"excuse me, you're standing in the way."

sunghoon turned, surprised by the voice that cut through the air like a delicate bell. there you were, standing a few paces away, focused intently on something in front of you. the breeze caught your hair, swirling it around in gentle waves, as if nature itself had decided you belonged here.

you held a paintbrush, while your other hand was delicately holding the edge of a large canvas. the bright spring sunlight painted your face in a warm glow, and for a moment, sunghoon thought you were the one who might have stepped out of a painting. he blinked, unsure if he was imagining it.

you looked at him over the canvas, your gaze soft yet steady. "i can’t see what i’m painting."

sunghoon blinked again, his mind catching up with her words. his first instinct was to apologize, but instead, a curious question slipped from his lips.

"in the way of what?" he asked, eyes scanning the empty space around. it was just the pond, trees in the distance, and gaeul still snuffling at the grass.

you smiled gently, as though humoring him, and turned back to the canvas. "the pond," you said simply. "the swans are in the perfect place, but i can't see them with you there."

sunghoon’s eyebrows furrowed. he hadn’t seen any swans. he looked again at the water, the ripples forming delicate patterns, as he then noticed them, swimming in the tranquil scene of the pond and its lush surroundings.

"oh," he said, a little sheepish now. "sorry about that."

without another word, he stepped back, walking around to the other side. as he moved behind you, he finally caught a glimpse of the canvas, and his breath caught.

the scene you had painted was ethereal, a reflection of the very pond before him. but it wasn’t just any pond. the water shimmered under the painted sunlight, and there, gliding gracefully across the surface, were swans with feathers that seemed to glow, caught in the perfect moment of a timeless dance.

sunghoon blinked, the swans on the canvas almost more real than the ones in the water. it was as if the painting had captured a secret version of the world, one that existed only in the space between dreams and reality.

he didn't realize he had been staring until you spoke again, your voice low and warm. "you’re welcome to stay. i don’t mind the company."

sunghoon glanced at you, his curiosity piqued. "do you always paint things like this?" he asked, gesturing to the canvas. "it’s... beautiful."

you paused, as if considering your answer carefully before offering him a small, almost secretive smile. "i paint what i see," you said softly. "or what i wish people could see. things like this tend to appear when you’re not looking too hard."

the silence stretches on, but it’s a comfortable silence, one you’re not eager to break. you can feel him behind you, still watching the canvas, and for some reason, you don’t mind. In fact, you almost welcome it.

the light was beginning to shift, a soft gold spilling across the pond as the sun sank lower in the sky. the world around you seemed to soften, and you found yourself putting the final touches on your painting. the swans, now perfectly captured in their tranquil grace, glowed with a serene light. it felt like the painting was alive, like the quiet beauty of the moment had been preserved on the canvas, and you couldn’t help but smile as you stepped back, taking it all in.

you had been so focused on your work that you hadn’t noticed how the world had quietly slipped into evening. the park, once busy with the noise of the afternoon, had quieted, the air now cool and crisp. gaeul, still sniffing around in the grass, trotted up to you, her soft fur tickling your legs as she nudged you.

you began to gather your things, carefully packing your paints and brushes into your bag. the familiar, soothing routine felt grounding after hours of painting, and for a moment, you let yourself be fully present in the peace of it all. that was when you heard his voice again.

“so, where are you headed?” he asked, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

you looked up from your bag, catching his gaze for a moment. there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart skip a beat. something that lingered, a quiet reverence in his eyes. it was subtle at first, but as you took in his expression, you realized he wasn’t just looking at you like a stranger. he was studying you, his gaze lingering on you with a softness.

he noticed the way the last light of day seemed to wrap around you, the soft glow in your skin, the way your hair caught the golden hues of the sunset, and how you moved with an effortless grace. it was almost like you weren’t fully of this world, like there was a light about you that made everything else fade into the background. the delicate way you held yourself, as though the very air around you softened in your presence, left him momentarily breathless.

"to the university dorms nearby," you said, glancing up at the trees surrounding the park. "to the north of the park. just a short walk."

his thoughts were still lost in how you looked. there was something almost angelic about you. it wasn’t just your appearance, though he couldn’t deny your beauty, it was the way you seemed to radiate a quiet calm, a peace that drew him in like a moth to a flame. he’d never met anyone who seemed to have that effect on the world around them. it was as though you carried a piece of the divine with you.

he blinked, shaking the thought away. "you live in those dorms?" he asked, his voice sounding a little more surprised than he intended. "i do, too. i’m a student, i’m in econ."

you raised an eyebrow. "really? that’s funny," you replied, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "i didn’t think i’d run into anyone from the university here."

he managed a shrug, still trying to regain his composure. "it’s a small world. what are you studying?"

you hesitated for a moment, taking in the question. he was still looking at you with those warm eyes, and despite the simplicity of the question, there was something in his gaze that made you feel listened to.

"i’m studying med," you said, the words feeling comfortable on your tongue, like they were a part of you. "but painting, well, painting’s something i do in my free time. my grandmother always said it helps me stay calm." you smiled softly at the thought of her, her words ringing in your ears even now. "i guess i’ve always believed that."

his eyes widened, and it felt like a weight lifted from his chest as he processed what you said. "medicine? wow," he said, voice filled with genuine awe. "that’s amazing. i didn’t expect you to be studying something so intense and... and still have time to paint like that."

you laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to fill the space between you both. "it’s not always easy, but it helps. i think i need something to balance out the stress sometimes."

he had always found art and science to be so different, yet here you were. studying the complexity of the human body, but also finding a way to balance that with something so peaceful, so beautiful. it struck him, in that moment, how composed you were, how serene. he didn’t understand how you did it, how you seemed to exist in this perfect harmony, radiating peace without even trying.

it was just who you were. every little detail about you seemed to blend together in such a way that it felt like the universe had conspired to create someone who made the world feel just a little bit softer, a little bit kinder.

"you seem... so calm, though," he said, his voice dropping a little. "you don’t seem stressed at all." it was the way you carried yourself, the way you made the world feel just a little less harsh. he wondered if you even realized it, or if it was simply part of who you were.

"i’ve learned to find calm in the small things," you said, your voice as soothing as ever. "it helps."

he swallowed, his words a little uncertain but sincere. "would you mind... if i walked you back to the dorms? i mean, i’m heading in that direction, too."

your gaze met his, and for a split second, he saw something flicker in your eyes. "sure," you said, your voice like a breeze. "i’d like that."

and as you both started walking, gaegul trotting happily beside you, the evening seemed to slow. the world around him, once so busy and full of noise, felt quieter, calmer, with you beside him. and though he couldn’t explain it, he felt lucky.

you both walked in comfortable silence for the last stretch, the cool evening air wrapped around you as the campus buildings began to come into view. the dorms loomed ahead, their lights glowing faintly against the darkening sky. gaeul trotted happily by your side, oblivious to the weight of the moment that seemed to hang between you and him.

as you reached the split walkway between the boys' and girls' dormitories, you stopped, glancing up at him with a soft smile, your eyes reflecting the fading light of the day.

"well," you said, your voice as gentle as always, "this is where we part ways."

he stopped, too, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than he’d intended. there was something about you that made it feel like time slowed down when you were near. he nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.

"goodnight," he said, his voice quieter now, almost like he didn’t want to break the calm of the moment. "i hope to see you again."

you smiled back, that same soft, knowing smile that left him feeling lighter, as if the world had just shifted a little more in his favor. "goodnight," you repeated, your voice as soothing as ever.

he watched as you turned and began walking toward the girls' building, the sound of your footsteps growing fainter. he stood there for a moment, still watching, the quiet stillness of the night wrapping around him.

then, as you disappeared around the corner, something hit him. he had no way of contacting you. no phone number, no social media. he didn't know anything about you, except that you had just become the brightest part of his evening.

his heart sank a little as the realization set in. he hadn't even asked for your name. all he had was the feeling of your presence, your lightness, your calm, and the hope that somehow, by some twist of fate, he’d run into you again. but that was it. just a hope. and in that moment, the thought of never seeing you again felt like a quiet ache that tugged at him more than he wanted to admit.

he sighed, shoulders sagging as he turned to head toward the boys' building. but as he walked, he couldn’t help but think that the universe had somehow put you in his path tonight. maybe it would work out again. maybe he’d find a way to see you again. he had to.

it had been a few weeks since that evening at the park, and sunghoon had almost convinced himself that maybe, just maybe, he’d imagined it all. maybe the universe didn’t want him to find you again.

but then, one afternoon, as he walked out of his class with his friends jungwon and jake, his gaze naturally drifted toward the campus patio. and there you were.

he froze for a moment, his steps slowing as his heart skipped a beat. you were sitting on a white blanket, the afternoon sun casting a warm light on you, making everything around you seem brighter. your hair was tied up with a soft pink bow, and you wore a simple white dress that somehow made you look even more ethereal.

you were eating marshmallows, your attention focused on the sketchbook in your lap as you carefully drew something, lost in your own world. the sight was so serene, so peaceful, that for a moment, sunghoon felt like he was seeing you through a dream, everything else blurring out of focus. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

“hey, sunghoon,” jungwon said, nudging him with his elbow. “you good?”

sunghoon snapped out of his trance, but his gaze lingered on you, still a few yards away. jungwon followed his line of sight, his eyes narrowing in curiosity.

“do you know her?” jungwon asked, voice low but teasing.

sunghoon hesitated, feeling his cheeks warm. it wasn’t that he was embarrassed, but something about the way jungwon asked felt like he was being caught in something he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

“yeah,” he finally said, his voice quiet but certain. “i do.”

jake, ever the curious one, leaned in with a smirk. “who is she? you’ve never mentioned her before.”

sunghoon didn’t even hear the rest of their teasing. his eyes were still on you, and as he watched, you looked up for a moment, catching his gaze from across the patio. his heart skipped again, and he quickly looked away, suddenly feeling like he was caught in something bigger than he could understand. he was so sure he recognized you. and now, there you were, sitting alone.

“i’m gonna go talk to her,” he muttered, almost as if he were convincing himself as much as his friends. before they could respond, he was already walking toward you, the soft crunch of grass beneath his shoes.

as he drew closer, he noticed how calm and at ease you looked, like you hadn’t noticed the world around you was moving at all. there was something about the way you were sitting, so composed, so unaffected, that made him feel like he was intruding on something precious.

when you finally noticed him standing there, a small smile tugged at your lips, and you looked up from your sketchbook. that smile, it was the same gentle, peaceful one he remembered.

“hi,” sunghoon said, his voice soft but warm. “i didn’t expect to see you here.”

you tilted your head, your smile deepening just slightly as you recognized him too. “hi,” you replied, voice as calm and pleasant as always. “i come here sometimes when i need a break. it’s quiet. and the sun is nice this time of day.”

he took a breath, feeling a little more grounded now that you were speaking to him. “i didn’t know you liked marshmallows.”

you chuckled lightly, holding up the bag of marshmallows beside you. “they’re a good snack when i’m drawing. they don’t get in the way.”

he nodded, taking in the sight of you sitting there, so effortlessly graceful, as if everything in the world had slowed down for this moment. he felt a little nervous, unsure of what to say next, but before he could think too much, your voice broke through his thoughts.

“do you want to sit?” you asked, patting the blanket beside you in a quiet invitation. “i have a free period.”

sunghoon smiled, his heart settling a little. maybe he was overthinking things. maybe he wasn’t intruding after all. “sure,” he said, sitting down carefully beside you, not wanting to disturb the peaceful aura you seemed to carry so effortlessly.

he glanced at your sketchbook, where a few half-finished drawings filled the pages. delicate swirls and soft strokes of your pen, each image more mesmerizing than the last. there was a quiet beauty to the way you drew, so focused, so in tune with your own thoughts.

“what are you drawing?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his curiosity piqued.

you glanced down at your sketchbook, a faint smile curving your lips. “just a little scene. nothing special.”

sunghoon peered closer, and to his surprise, the drawing was of the very spot you were sitting in, the trees and the patio, even the small table in the distance. but there was something magical about it, almost like the swirls of the trees were alive, the colors of the leaves blending into a soft, glowing aura.

“it’s beautiful,” he said without thinking, voice soft with genuine admiration.

your smile deepened, but there was a humility in your gaze. “thank you. it’s just something to pass the time. nothing too serious.”

sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “it’s amazing.”

you shrugged, still smiling, but didn’t say anything more. he let the silence settle between you both, comfortable in the quiet, in the simplicity of the moment. it felt natural, like this was how things were always supposed to be.

but still, that nagging thought at the back of his mind wouldn’t let go. he had found you, again, but this time, he was determined to make sure it wasn’t by chance. he wasn’t about to let another moment slip by without knowing more about you, without knowing you.

“by the way,” he said, glancing over at you, his voice a little more serious now, “i never caught your name last time.”

you looked at him, eyes wide for just a split second, and then you laughed softly, almost as if you had forgotten. "ah, sorry," you said, your voice gentle. "i'm y/n. i guess we never properly introduced ourselves."

sunghoon smiled, feeling something in him click into place. “it’s good to finally know your name,” he said, with a genuine warmth.

"and you are?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"sunghoon," he replied, the name feeling like it fit a little better now that it was tied to this moment.

you nodded, smiling softly. "nice to meet you once again, sunghoon."

and just like that, everything seemed a little more right in the world. "so," he said, glancing at your marshmallows, "can i have one?"

you handed him a marshmallow without hesitation, and for a moment, with your laugh, the world felt as calm and serene as your smile.

as the days passed, sunghoon and you exchanged messages almost every day. your schedules seemed to perfectly overlap, and it didn’t take long for him to look forward to the little conversations that would pop up on his phone. whether it was about class, random thoughts, or even something as small as what you’d had for lunch. there was a certain lightness in your messages, like you two had been talking for much longer than you had.

then, one day, out of the blue, you sent him a message that caught him off guard.

‘ hey, hoonie, do u want to come over sometime? i’ve been baking today, and i want u to try it!" ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ ’

he stared at the message for a while, his thumb hovering over the screen. baking? it wasn’t exactly what he had expected from you, but it sounded… sweet in the most literal and figurative sense. he didn’t know why, but the idea of you baking for him, inviting him into your space, made his heart flutter a little.

he replied quickly.

‘ i’ll be there, tell me when ’

and a few minutes later, you had sent him the details.

later that day, sunghoon found himself standing outside your room, his heart racing a little faster than usual. he had dressed in something simple but neat. jeans and a well-fitted shirt, not too casual but not too formal either. he didn’t want to overdo it, but he also didn’t want to look like he’d rolled out of bed either. he wanted to make a good impression, even though he felt like he already had.

he knocked on your door, his palms slightly sweaty as he waited. the door opened almost immediately, and there you were.

you were wearing a cozy, pastel-colored sweater and soft linen shorts, looking as effortlessly graceful as you always did. your hair was tied up loosely, a cute pink bow perched in it, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but think how perfectly you matched the vibe of the room around you. it was like your energy had seeped into everything, from the soft hues of the walls to the little details that decorated the space.

"hi, hoon," you greeted him, a warm smile on your face. you stepped back to let him inside. "come in, i just finished the cake."

he stepped inside, immediately noticing the sweet scent that hung in the air, rich vanilla and something almost floral. it was like walking into a bakery, but with a touch of something more personal, more intimate.

"it smells amazing," he said, his voice soft as he looked around.

"thanks!" you replied, clearly proud of yourself. "i hope it tastes as good as it smells." you led him further into the room, and he noticed just how clean everything was. it was neat and tidy, with a sort of organized chaos that felt uniquely you. pastel colors, mostly pink, lined the shelves, and there were little bows on everything from the pillows on the couch to the curtains at the windows. he even spotted a small bunny painting hanging above your desk, its soft colors and sweet expression fitting perfectly with the rest of the room’s aesthetic.

it was like a cozy little haven, a space that felt entirely yours, and yet, at the same time, it felt like he could picture himself in it, like he could belong there. he looked over at you, still standing in the kitchen doorway, and felt a strange warmth flood his chest.

"your room… it really suits you," he said, almost surprised at how natural the words came out.

you blinked at him, then laughed softly. "you think so? i just like things that make me happy. nothing too fancy, just cozy." you gestured to the small table near the living room couch, where a white cake sat. "come on, i made angel food cake. i hope you like it."

as he sat down at the couch, he noticed how comfortable everything felt. how easy it was to be around you, even in a space so personal.

"it look good," sunghoon said as you placed a plate slice in a plate in front of him. he reached for the fork, taking a bite, and immediately smiled. "it tastes as good as it smells, too."

you beamed at the compliment, clearly pleased. "i’m glad you like it. i don’t bake often, but i thought i’d give it a try."

he took another bite, the sweetness filling his mouth. "well, you’re definitely good at it." he instantly noticed how the flavor seemed to resemble you, sweet and soft.

you shrugged modestly, sitting down next to him. "it’s nothing too special. just something i like to do when i have the time."

the conversation flowed easily from there, moving from classes and hobbies to random topics. like your favorite kind of music, or whether you preferred tea or coffee. it was the kind of light, easy conversation that made time slip away without either of you noticing.

after a while, as the slice of cake disappeared and the sun outside dipped lower, sunghoon glanced over at the clock and realized how much time had passed. he didn’t want to leave just yet. not when everything felt so right.

"i’ts getting late,” you mumbled, catching his gaze then, your eyes holding his, and for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. it felt like time slowed down, the world outside the window fading away. in the quiet of your dorm, with the only sound being the soft rhythm of your breathing, the space between you two seemed to shrink.

before either of you could say anything, you slowly leaned in, the distance between you shrinking with every passing second. sunghoon’s heart raced, his breath catching in his chest as you closed the gap.

when your lips finally touched, it was as soft as a whisper, gentle and slow, as if you were both savoring the moment. it was a sweet kiss, the kind that felt like it was meant to be, soft and tender, without any rush. the world seemed to fall away, and there was only the quiet warmth of your lips against his, the light sweetness of it making his heart flutter.

the kiss lingered for a moment, as if you both didn’t want to let go. when you pulled away, your eyes met his, and you both shared a soft smile. sunghoon’s heart was still racing, but there was a sense of calm, a quiet understanding between you that didn’t need words.

"thank you for inviting me over," he said softly, the moment lingering in the air.

you smiled, your voice equally soft. "i’m glad you’re here."

and in that moment, with the soft light and the scent of vanilla still lingering in the air, everything felt just a little more perfect than it had before.

BTW: u guys know i love me some cute movie endings i loooveeee themmmmm sooooo soooo muuuuchhhhhhh

EXTRA:

masterlist.

read something similar: swan lake !

[starlight-archer]

Fic Request for @ckxep "Charles and Edwin being dumb teenage boys"

They're having a little holiday weekend!

It was the first month of Autumn and things had finally slowed down at the office. They had had a busy few weeks and they had all decided that they were long due a break.

Initially, they had struggled to come to an agreement on where to go, but then the classic British September heat wave had hit and Niko had eagerly suggested that they all go to the beach.

Charles was immediately eager, it having been a long time since they had gone to one outside of a casework. He was practically already in his swim shorts and flip flops before she had even finished her sentence.

Edwin hadn't really been to the beach much while he was alive. There had been a lake on his family's estate, and there was the one Summer when he was twelve, when he had been sent to the seaside "for his health" (though he hadn't actually been allowed on the beach or in the water, and his aunt Beatrice had kept trying to feed him nettle soup).

All that to say that they had leapt at the idea.

They had debated for a while about where to go, but in the end they had settled on a two day trip to Cornwall. They had taken the train into a seaside town called Hayle from London Paddington, and Crystal had rented a chalet at a small holiday resort that had it's own private beach.

Once they arrived, they quickly realised that they would have to wait for the following day for the beach.

It was raining. A lot.

So, Charles pulled a couple of umbrellas out and they headed over to the supermarket to stock up on snacks before checking in to the chalet.

The place was pretty spacious inside, with a small kitchenette, a compact lounge with a coffee table, an open area and then two bedrooms and a small bathroom.

They set up in the small sitting area and broke out the snacks, had an afternoon of board games that Charles had brought along. Half way into it, they had started a game of Charles and Edwin throwing popcorn and gummy sweets, and Niko and Crystal trying to catch them in their mouths.

At one point, they had also made a game of seeing how many marshmallows they could fit in their mouths (Edwin had cheated by letting them phase partially through him and they embrassingly hadn't noticed until he got to ninety-seven).

The next day, they had all gotten into their beachwear and headed down to the seafront. It was a picturesque little area and due to the time of year, most of the others there were middle-aged or elderly couples (likely there in September because all of the families with children had gone back home with the end of the Summer holidays).

Crystal set up their wind shield and parasol while Niko laid out the beach towels and found rocks to weigh down the corners.

Charles put his backpack down and opened it up before pulling out two decently large shovels, both with wooden poles and brightly coloured plastic handles.

He gave Edwin a look, grinning and raising his eyebrows.

"Shovels?" Edwin looked at Charles curiously as he took the blue shovel in his hands.

"Shovels!" Charles echoed, waving his own, bright red shovel excitedly.

He brought Edwin over to a patch of sand that was a little bit damp at the top. The tide was on its way out, so they wouldn't have to worry about having to move across the beach.

"What are we doing with these?" Edwin asked, already having an idea, but still being unsure.

"Digging a hole!" Charles exclaimed.

"A hole..."

"A really big hole!" Charles made the first move to bury his shovel in the sand and toss the contents to the side. "Come on!"

Edwin hesitated for a moment, but when Charles carried on, he decided to join in. If nothing else, he was curious about the appeal.

One hour and twenty minutes later and the appeal had become more than apparent.

Edwin and Charles had managed to dig down deep enough that their heads were barely visible over the brim of the hole and it had become wide enough for at least three people to fit in there (granted, uncomfortably, but still).

"Well, I must admit that this is a strangely rewarding endeavour." Edwin said, digging his shovel into the lump of sand at his side.

"Mate! It's digging a massive hole, it's brills! It's like human nature, innit?" Charles beamed.

It felt good to do something so pointless and fun, just for the sake of it, without having any additional purpose or end goal. Just dig a hole. A really big hole. And then hope you don't accidentally make it too deep to climb out without help.

When they were done with the hole, they rejoined Crystal and Niko by the parasol and dragged them over to see the hole.

"Holy shit!" Crystal laughed. "It's like six feet deep!"

"You guys! That's crazy!" Niko hesitantly leaned over the side to peer in. "it's like the mountain of sand you dug out just makes it look even deeper."

"You basically dug a pond."

"Pretty cool, yeah?" Charles put his hands on his hips and looked incredibly proud of all their hard work.

"Pretty cool." Crystal smiled, holding back the rest of her giggles.

They all took a splash in the sea, then spent the rest of the day lounging, waiting after they had packed up for the wave that finally reached the hole and filled it up to the brim, knocking half of the dug up sand back in at the same time. They cheered.

Walking back up the path, Charles suddenly darted ahead. "Oh, yeah!" he cheered and when he turned back around, brandishing two large sticks that he had picked up from the bushes.

He threw one to Edwin, who deftly caught it. "En guarde!"

Without another word the two of them took a fighting stance and started "sword fighting" with the sticks, carrying on until they were almost back at the chalet, where Edwin finally managed to disarm Charles, sending the stick flying off to the left.

Before the sun had set, they finished packing up their overnight supplies, picked up some takeaway chips for the journey, and headed back to the train station. There would be one changeover at Plymouth and then they would be on their way back to London.

Vacation well spent.

[mylo-space]

Welcome to Your Future

Summary: After a ritual goes awry, MK finds a memory-impaired Macaque in his dojo. Macaque, confused and more than a little overwhelmed by the changes, seeks out the one person he finds most familiar in the hopes that he can get some answers. And Wukong, faced with a Macaque unburdened by their millennia of rivalry, realizes there are some pretty complicated emotions resurfacing, and he's not sure he can bury them a second time.

Completed on Ao3: 2024-06-24 Word Count: 81,428 Chapters: 11

Chapter 1: Lost Memories, Found Names >> Chapter 2

-

If MK were to have any fatal flaw at all, it would probably be that he was a tad more trusting than he should be, considering he was in a position to make a lot of very powerful enemies. On the bright side, his optimism usually convinced people not to kill him. In the year or so since receiving the Monkey King’s powers, most of the people who’d attacked him, usually for some revenge plot or another, ended up becoming allies. Some of them had even become good friends.

Others became mentors.

MK considered himself a very enthusiastic student, and Macaque was by no means a reluctant mentor, but their lessons typically weren’t very substantial. They mostly just hung out, and Macaque occasionally offered up some advice, but it was an unspoken rule that the physical training got left to Monkey King.

It wasn’t that MK didn’t trust Macaque to do some combat training with him, it just brought up a lot of memories that they’d both rather forget. That, and MK had a sneaking suspicion that he still reminded Macaque of Monkey King. Which seemed to be a pretty common problem among most of the people Monkey King used to call his friends.

So, they didn’t do much training, but Macaque was still content to call himself MK’s mentor, if only because it annoyed Monkey King to no end. And MK was content to let him, only because he knew Monkey King wasn’t actually as annoyed by it as he pretended to be.

Truthfully, neither one of them seemed to hate each other nearly as much as their bantering would suggest. MK never got an answer about it, no matter how much he asked, but he’d learned that immortals were just strange that way. They had all the time in the world to work out their issues, and refused.

He considered asking Macaque again, maybe in a slightly roundabout way. Macaque generally saw through that kind of thing, but it never stopped MK from trying. And, maybe, MK mused as he pulled up to his co-mentor’s dojo, recent events might encourage the reserved Mystic Monkey to open up.

Long shot, probably. But MK was optimistic.

MK knocked on Macaque’s door, humming a jingle he’d heard from a commercial on TV while he waited. He’d finished delivering noodles for the day, and figured it wouldn’t hurt stopping in a little earlier than usual for his ‘training’ with Macaque.

After a few moments of no answer, MK knocked again. “Hey, Macaque!” he called. “Open up, man, I know you can hear me!”

It crossed his mind briefly that maybe Macaque was just out roaming the city. MK had shown up a couple hours early, it was possible Macaque would show if he waited around long enough. Only odd thing about it was that Macaque didn’t usually just ‘roam the city’, or roam much of anywhere, for that matter. It wasn’t the first time MK had shown up early, and Macaque was always home.

“Hey, uh-” MK knocked on the door, deliberate and loud, “Macaque? You’re kinda weirding me out here, so… I’m just gonna open the door, if that’s cool.”

The door creaked as it opened, and MK was met with a poorly lit room. Not that Macaque’s dojo was particularly bright on any given day, which was sometimes a nice change from the glaring, neon city, but it was especially dim. MK tried to convince himself that it wasn’t as concerning as the fluttering in his chest insisted it was.

Pulling out his staff, MK tentatively closed the door behind him and walked through Macaque’s dojo. “Hello?” he said loudly, a reluctant shout. “You in here, Macaque?” A noise caught him off guard, a strangled gasp escaping him as he moved to press himself against the nearest wall.

He had half a mind to be embarrassed. The noise was hardly a threatening sounding thing, just the wisp of magic, a glimmer of power. It would have been nearly indiscernible anywhere else, but in Macaque’s near silent dojo, it may as well have been an explosion. It’d always been quiet at Macaque’s place, which was kind of impressive, considering it stood in the middle of a bustling city.

Fortunately, the quiet energy was familiar. After a few steadying breaths, MK recognized Macaque’s magic hovering in the air. He hadn’t quite figured out how that worked, sensing other people’s magic, but he assumed it was another weird 'Mystic Monkey’ thing that he’d have to learn. Just when he’d thought he’d gotten things down, there was always something new.

In any case, the magic was warm. Not as warm as Monkey King’s, a near constant heat buried under stone skin, embers in the aftermath of a fire, eager to relight. Macaque’s magic was a subtle warmth, a patch of grass warmed by sunlight, a heat soothed by shade and a cool breeze.

It took a moment of searching, but he traced the magic to a room near the back of Macaque’s dojo. The door was left slightly ajar, and a light spilled through the crack. “Macaque?” MK said quietly, pushing open the door. “Macaque, are you…” He trailed off at the sight of Macaque sitting in the room, cross-legged with his hands on his knees, eyes closed and face passive.

MK, thinking perhaps Macaque was just meditating, knocked on the open door to get his attention. It almost looked like Monkey King’s transcendental meditation, but the magic around him looked different. Macaque didn’t glow like Monkey King had, there was just a steady swirl of soft blue around his head, two streams of magic that flowed in steady circles around his ears.

When knocking didn’t snap Macaque out of whatever was happening, MK walked into the room. “What kind of meditation is this?” he asked aloud, not bothering to wait for an answer as he gingerly poked Macaque’s arm with his staff. “Hey, Macaque,” he sang quietly, as though trying to wake a child from their nap. “Wakey, wakey.”

Macaque’s tail flicked, which MK took as a good sign, and moved to shake his shoulder. The magic stuttered, the flow breaking apart a bit, and Macaque’s face scrunched in discomfort.

“Macaque?” MK took a step back as the magic began to flicker, expanding and contracting erratically. It crackled, until the steady streams were jagged bolts of energy. “Macaque!” MK tried, abandoning the staff to grab Macaque by both shoulders and shake him.

The magic around Macaque didn’t feel threatening, but the whispers hadn’t seemed so dangerous, either, until the Lady Bone Demon had overtaken some of the strongest fighters he knew. She’d stolen away his mentor and his best friend, shards of ice wreaking havoc in the city, destroying the world. And even Azure had seemed harmless, until he wasn’t, until he’d revealed his true intentions, until he’d almost dissolved the universe to achieve his goals, so maybe MK had been wrong to assume that the magic surrounding Macaque was innocuous.

“Macaque!” MK demanded. He had been certain Macaque was past trying to hurt him to get to Monkey King, things had been relatively peaceful for a few months, but now there was frostbite in his ears and shadows on the walls, and his heart raced with the possibility that maybe Macaque’s need for a fight hadn’t been satiated, after all. ”Wake up!”

At that, Macaque’s eyes snapped open, inhaling sharply as though pulled from underwater. MK had just a breath to be relieved, until he saw Macaque’s violet irises. The magic turned one vicious circle around the shadow before surging outward, a ring of energy knocking MK back into the wall behind him.

MK scrabbled to grab his staff and staggered to his feet on unsteady legs, his vision blurred from the impact. He blinked against light that surrounded Macaque, watching warily until it faded. “Okay,” he breathed, “this is probably fine, uh-” He cleared his throat, his gaze finally focusing on the crumpled form of Macaque. “Are you okay? Macaque?”

All Macaque gave in response was a groan, pushing himself up off the ground and shaking his head. Purple wisps dissipated as he stood, looking just as unsteady as MK. “What’s happening?” he finally managed, turning to MK with confusion etched into his features. “How did you…” His gaze drifted to MK’s staff, “Why do you have-”

“Macaque?” MK said slowly, “Is everything okay? We were- we had training today, remember?”

“Training?” Macaque asked, looking bewildered, which was not an expression MK was used to seeing. “Kid, I don’t even… who are you?”

MK blanched at that. “Who- what the donk are you talking about?” he asked. “Is this a joke?” He lowered the staff to the ground, setting his free hand disapprovingly on his hip. “We need to work on your sense of humor, man. I’m fine with you scheming and pulling pranks and- you know, being a general menace, but giving me a heart attack does not give off the ‘cool mentor’ vibes you think it does.”

Macaque blinked at MK like he’d spoken a different language. “Okay, well… that didn’t make any sense,” he said. “So, I’m gonna ask this again,” he lifted his hands placatingly, “and I need you to stick with me on this.” His gaze flicked around the room. “Who are you, and–while I’m asking questions–where am I?” Eyes narrowing on the staff, Macaque added, “And, uh… how did you get that?”

Uneasiness settled in MK’s chest at the questions. Macaque’s voice lacked the playful lilt it usually had when he teased MK, and the confusion on his face was so genuine, so much more vulnerable than the shadow would allow under normal circumstances. “You’re freaking me out,” MK said.

“I’m standing in a room I’ve never seen before with a kid I’ve never met,” Macaque replied shortly. “Not to mention you’re holding a staff that doesn’t belong to you.” MK flinched back at the clipped tone, and Macaque seemed to realize how sharp his voice was, because he took a step back, face softening. “Look, I- you seem like a nice kid, and I don’t want to hurt you if I don’t have to.” He gestured to the staff. “But I need to know why you have that.”

MK hesitated for a moment. “I’m… okay, let’s start over.” He shrank the staff and tucked it away, startling Macaque, as though he hadn’t expected MK to actually be able to wield the weapon. “My name is MK,” he started. “I’m the Monkey King’s successor, and I-”

“Successor?” Macaque interrupted incredulously.

“Uh… well, that’s- that is what I said, yeah.”

Macaque let out a startled laugh. “How long has Wukong had a student? He should have told me that he was-” His smile faltered. “He should’ve… he would have told me if he had a student.” He studied MK carefully. “And your clothes look strange.”

Looking down in surprise, MK tugged at his jacket, inspecting the white shirt underneath. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What was I doing when you came in?”

MK turned to check the back of his jacket. “No, seriously, what’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Macaque insisted, “I really need you to focus, okay?”

“Right!” MK straightened, nodding quickly. “Right, sorry, totally focused. What’s the question? Hit me with it.” Macaque opened his mouth to answer, just as it occurred to MK that he’d already asked the question. “Oh, yeah! So, uh- I don’t really know what you were doing in here?” he said. “Some kind of magic ritual thingie, maybe. It kinda looked like you were meditating?”

Macaque frowned. “Meditating?” He gestured to the sides of his head. “There wasn’t any magic going on up here, was there?”

“There was, yeah,” MK told him. “I didn’t know what was happening, and I panicked, so I just…” he shrugged helplessly, “I tried to wake you up.” Dread pooled in his stomach, hoping that his decision hadn’t just irreversibly messed something up. “Why? Was that- is that bad? Did I do a bad?”

Inhaling sharply through his teeth, Macaque replied, “Maybe? I don’t know, honestly, I just… well, I’ve never had this problem before.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, Wukong is going to kill me when he finds out.”

MK scowled. “That’s not funny, dude.”

His reprimand was met with a confused tilt of Macaque’s head. “What isn’t?” His focus flitted away before MK could answer, looking around the room curiously. “Wait, where are we again?”

“This is your place,” MK replied. “Well, it’s a room in your place.” He waved for Macaque to follow him. “Come on, maybe seeing your stuff will, uh… I don’t know, jog your memory or something.” Macaque cautiously followed him out of the room and into the dim dojo. “Forgot how dark it was in here, one second,” he moved to the lightswitch on the wall, “lemme just get this-”

Macaque made a noise of surprise as the dojo’s overhead lights kicked on. They weren’t terribly bright, but the shadow recoiled from them all the same. “What is that?” He reached up gingerly, hand hovering around a lightbulb like it might burn him. “Did you do this? Doesn’t look like any kind of magic I’ve ever seen.”

MK shook his head. “It’s just a lightbulb, dude. It’s like, you know, electricity? Pretty much every house in the city has some.” His brow furrowed as Macaque continued to marvel at incredibly mundane things around the dojo. “So, uh… you recognize anything?”

“Huh?” Macaque said absently, “Uh, yeah, some of this… it’s definitely my stuff.” He ran a hand over the weapons rack. “I just don’t know why it’s here, and not on Flower Fruit Mountain.”

“I mean, probably because you live here?” MK offered.

Macaque whirled on him at that, eyes wide with shock. “I live here?” His hands flailed a bit, gesturing around the dojo. “Why do I live here?” He demanded, “What happened to Flower Fruit Mountain?”

Lifting his hands in surrender, hoping that it’d placate the panicking immortal, MK quickly explained, “Monkey King still lives on Flower Fruit Mountain, nothing happened to it, you guys just-”

“Then I need to get back,” Macaque said, breezing past MK and towards the door. “How far is it from here?”

“Uh- hold on!” MK wasn’t sure what he was dealing with, but if Macaque was startled by a lightbulb, the city was going to be a whole different kind of shock. “Let’s just- uh, hang on a second-”

But Macaque had already thrown open the door, barely taking one step outside before he was reeling. “What the hell is that?” His hands clapped over his ears as he stumbled back into the dojo. “What is-”

MK rushed forward to slam the door shut. “Okay! So, just to explain some stuff here, you live in the city,” he explained. Macaque reluctantly moved his hands, the outside noise banished with the closed door. “And it’s a pretty big city. There’s lots of people, lots of cars, lots of… lots of everything, really.”

“Right,” Macaque nodded, blinking owlishly. “Can I just-” His body dropped until he was crouched on the ground, resting on the balls of his feet. “Could you give me a second, kid?” He asked, lacing together his fingers and pressing them against his forehead. “Processing some stuff here.”

All things considered, MK was having a pretty weird day, but it occurred to him suddenly that Macaque was probably having a way weirder day than he was. “Yeah, that was probably a lot.” He gave Macaque’s shoulder a reluctant pat. The Macaque he knew probably wouldn’t have accepted any kind of reassurance, but this Macaque looked like he needed it.  “You, uh… you good?

“Probably,” Macaque mumbled. “Just gotta get ahold of myself.” He took a deep breath, the shoulder under MK’s hand trembling on the exhale. “What century is this?”

“I think we’re somewhere in the 21st century?” MK replied, “Probably. It’s not super clear.” He cleared his throat. “I’m guessing things are a little different than you remember?”

Macaque hummed. “Pretty much everything.” He stood and brushed off his shirt. “Okay, let’s try that-” He paused, looking down at himself with an odd expression. “That… that’s not right.”

“What isn’t? Your shirt?” MK shrugged. “You wear that thing all the time.”

“Do I wear it wrong all the time?” Macaque asked. “Because it’s folded-” He shook his head. “Whatever. I’ll worry about it later.” He looked back to MK. “So, about getting to Flower Fruit Mountain.”

MK clapped his hands together. “Yes! Flower Fruit Mountain, can do.” The issue with that was the Monkey King himself. MK was sure that Macaque wasn’t trying to pull anything, but he doubted his mentor would feel the same. If MK enlisted the help of Monkey King, there was a pretty high chance that he’d taunt the shadow rather than help. “There might be, uh- a slight problem with that, actually.”

“What?” Macaque crossed his arms. “Why?”

“Well-” MK was saved from having to say anything else by his phone, which exploded with sound. “Uh, hold that thought.” MK pulled his phone out of his pocket and fumbled with it for a moment. “I gotta take this.” And he did, not just because it served as a good distraction, but because MK had learned that if he missed a few calls from his friends, they would assume another world-destroying threat had appeared and start panicking.

Macaque frowned at MK’s phone. “What is that?”

MK made a vague gesture for him to wait as he answered the phone, quickly glancing at the caller ID before putting it to his ear. “Hey, Mei! Now isn’t really a good time, if I could just call you back-”

“MK!” Mei interrupted. “They fixed the Monkey Mech game at the arcade,” she informed him cheerfully, “and I owe you about two weeks of butt-kicking.”

“That’s great, Mei,” MK said, “but I kinda got a situation here, so-”

“Who are you talking to?” Macaque asked, tilting his head curiously at MK’s phone, like the device might somehow make more sense at forty-five degrees. “Is the talking box magic? Or is this another lightbulb situation?”

Shooing Macaque away, MK replied, “It’s another lightbulb thing, don’t worry about it.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway! Mei, I really-”

“Is that Macaque?” Mei gasped, “Oh, you should totally invite him to the arcade! Then I can kick both your butts at Monkey Mech. That counts as training, right? I feel like that should count as training.”

Macaque waved as though Mei could see him. “Hello, girl in MK’s talking box,” he greeted awkwardly, clearly unsure what to make of the phone. “What’s an arcade?”

Mei winced, “How out of touch is this guy?” she asked quietly. “Even Monkey King knows what a videogame is.”

“Does Wukong know her?” Macaque leaned closer to MK’s phone. “Girl in the talking box! Do you know Wukong?”

MK gently shoved Macaque away from his ear. “It’s called a phone, Macaque, would you just- Mei, I’m putting you on speaker.” He pulled the phone away from his head to find whatever button would play Mei’s voice aloud, so that Macaque didn’t have to talk in his ear to be part of the conversation. “There! Okay, um- Mei? I have a serious situation here, and it’s not a ‘go to the arcade now and fix it later’ kind of problem.”

“Macaque isn’t trying anything, is he?” Mei demanded, her voice suddenly taking on a low, dangerous tone. “MK, what did he do?”

“I just met MK five minutes ago, why would I do anything?” Macaque exclaimed, looking bewildered at the very notion. “And how did you get inside this box?”

“No, Mei, Macaque didn’t do anything this time,” MK told her quickly, and Macaque looked disturbed by the phrase this time. MK hoped that they’d figure out how to fix Macaque before he had to explain what had happened. “Macaque is the situation, he’s… I don’t know, he’s stuck. And I don’t know how to fix him.”

“Stuck how?”

Macaque made an unsure noise. “Yeah, we’re still trying to figure that out, too.”

“Hence, ‘the situation’.” MK pinched the bridge of his nose. “He doesn’t remember a lot of stuff right now, and I don’t know how to make him unforget. And, no, before you ask,” MK interjected before Mei could, “he’s not faking it. He’s a good actor, but he’s not this good.”

“Thank you,” Macaque said brightly. “I think. Have you seen me perform?”

“You’re absolutely sure this isn’t a trick?” Mei asked skeptically.

MK hummed. “Mm-hm, like, ninety-nine point nine percent sure.” He sighed, “But I have no idea how to fix it, and I’m not sure I can bring him to Monkey King-”

Macaque straightened at that. “Wait, why can’t we go to Wukong for help?”

“Uh- he’s busy,” MK said quickly. “Doing Mystic Monkey business, probably.” It was a lie, but it was easier than explaining the long, complicated history between them. Especially since MK didn’t actually know a lot about what happened. Macaque didn’t look very satisfied with the answer, but he didn’t press.

There was something garbled on Mei’s end of the line, a gruff voice that MK could recognize anywhere, even if he couldn’t hear the words. “Yeah, so,” Mei said, “Piggy is saying to bring him here? He and Tang think they might know what’s happening.”

“Really?” MK asked. “That’s great! We’ll meet you guys over there.” He hung up the phone, turning to Macaque with a grin. “Okay, change of plans. How do you feel about noodles?”

Macaque gave a half-hearted shrug. “I mean, they’re fine, I guess?” He fidgeted with his scarf, tugging at the red fabric with a crinkled nose. “Why? Are there noodles where we’re going?”

“Pigsy will probably have some ready when we get over there. He owns a noodle shop, and I work as his delivery boy,” MK explained while Macaque turned in a circle, staring at the tail end of his scarf as though baffled by it. “Did you- do you wanna change before we head out?”

“Can I?” Macaque swatted at the flowing scarf in irritation. “This stupid hanfu is driving me insane, and the scarf isn’t much better. It wasn’t even cold outside.” He started wrestling the red fabric over his head as he walked to the back of the dojo. “I’m gonna go look around this… whatever this is, and find something sensible to wear. I’ll be right back.”

MK wondered if Macaque would be insulted by himself when he got back to normal, taking jabs at his own fashion choice. He couldn’t wait to relay everything that had happened to the shadow when his memories came back, exposing the edgy lord of shadows for the softie he was, because MK did genuinely believe, somewhere deep down, that Macaque was still this soft.

But in order to tease Macaque about his long-buried softness, they’d have to fix him first. And MK figured Macaque would probably take a while with the wardrobe change–he could hear the shadow opening and closing doors, apparently having trouble figuring out which room might have some spare clothes–so he leaned against the nearest wall and scrolled through his phone. While he waited, he looked up the proper way to wear a hanfu. He wasn’t super familiar with traditional clothing, but Macaque seemed adamant that it was wrong, and MK was curious.

The results he got were a little more off-putting than he had anticipated. A hanfu wasn’t supposed to be folded the way Macaque’s had been, right over left, unless it was on a corpse, which had a pretty disturbing implication that MK didn’t want to think too hard about, even if it was just symbolism. He shoved his phone and his pocket and resolved to scold Macaque for his dramatics later.

“Hey, kid,” Macaque called, stepping back into the dojo, wearing what looked like a simpler version of the hanfu he’d taken off, folded left over right and accessorized with a red bandana. He looked nearly identical to the memories MK had seen in the Scroll. “I’m pretty sure that city outside is pretty difficult to navigate if you're a millennia behind the times. How are we getting to this noodle shop?”

“I’ll drive us there,” MK replied, “but we should probably head out now before traffic gets bad.” He started for the door, but stopped with his hand on the door handle. “Uh… is there any kind of- like, a magic thing you can do? So the city doesn’t hurt your ears so much?”

Macaque made an unsure noise. “I can keep them hidden, but there’s not much I can do for the sound.”

“Sorry, hidden?” MK clarified, confused by the statement as Macaque’s ears were clearly in plain view. Though, when MK thought about it, his full name was the ‘Six-Eared Macaque’. He hadn’t ever considered that the name was literal, but Macaque was capable of creating some pretty powerful illusions. MK knew about the scar he kept hidden, it was reasonable to assume that the shadow might keep a couple extra sets of ears hidden, too.

“Uh-huh,” Macaque replied absently. “Wukong usually handles the noise when I need it, but he’s not here… for some reason.” He looked around, like something in the four walls might have more answers if he looked hard enough. “I don’t know why I’d be doing this without Wukong around,” the shadow muttered quietly. “We must have become morons in the future.”

“You mean the present,” MK corrected. “Right? This is still the present? You’re morons in the present.”

“Technically, yeah,” Macaque conceded. “But my memories are stuck in the past somehow, so to me? It’s the future, and I’m not an idiot yet.”

“You know, fair enough!” MK replied, opening the door and letting the city noise back into the dojo. “Let me know if the city gets too loud for you, I’ll let you borrow my headphones.”

Macaque followed MK outside with a barely audible wince. “Your what phone? The box you were talking into?”

MK took the blue headphones off of his neck. “Put these over your ears,” he instructed, hopping in the driver side of his tuk-tuk and putting his key in the ignition. “They’re noise canceling, and I can play some music if you want.”

“No, it’s…” Macaque slipped the headphones over his ears, looking pleasantly surprised at the lack of noise. “This is great, actually.” He slid into the passenger seat of the tuk-tuk, looking around the city in amazement. “The mortals have gotten creative over the years.”

“Yup!” MK drove slower than he usually would, letting Macaque take in the sights as they made their way across the city. “Nothing like good ol’ human ingenuity.” He turned onto a busy street, watching in amusement as Macaque marveled at the skyscrapers and buses and neon signs. “It’s weird seeing you like this, you know? You’re not usually this enthusiastic.”

“Really?” Macaque asked. “What am I usually like?”

MK hummed. “You sorta got this… like, a slightly edgier vibe going on? Kinda broody, a little mean-ish.” Macaque looked concerned at that, so MK quickly amended with, “I think you have good- like, mostly good intentions, you’re just not always the nicest person, you know?”

“Mean, huh?” Macaque mumbled. “Wonder when that started happening.” MK had a few guesses, most of them involving a fight he saw, one deep below a mountain, but he kept that to himself. “I’m sure Wukong will know what’s going on. Whenever he gets back from his… what’d you call it? ‘Mystic Monkey’ business? I’m gonna need him to fill me in on a few things.”

“Well, hopefully we can get you fixed before he has to explain anything,” MK said. “No ‘filling you in’ required, because there’s, like, hundreds of years worth of stuff to tell you, and I don’t think Monkey King would have the patience.”

Macaque chuckled. “Fair enough.” He leaned back in his seat. “I can’t wait to tell him all about this when I see him again.” MK stopped at a red light, turning to watch Macaque. It was odd seeing an almost child-like wonder from the otherwise cynical shadow. It was easy to see how Monkey King had gotten along with Macaque in the past, if this was the Macaque he’d befriended.

But it made a small, anxious pit in MK’s stomach, knowing that this Macaque was also, somehow, the same Macaque that stripped him of his powers and pinned him to a mountain. The Macaque so eager to see Monkey King had grown to be someone who’d go to unfathomable lengths just to provoke his former friend into fighting him. MK had seen some pieces of their past, a peach-scented promise on a beach and a vicious, scathing fight from under a mountain, but it still seemed so surreal, that two people who cared about each other so much could become such bitter enemies.

MK shook his head as the light above him turned green. Macaque lurched a bit as MK hit the gas, and he put his hand out to brace himself on the dash. “So,” the shadow asked, “how far are we from this noodle shop?”

“It’s right up ahead,” MK told him, turning down familiar streets. “Oh, and just a heads up, I guess, because you don’t… you don’t remember it, but you don’t always get along with my friends. So, if everyone’s a little on edge, don’t take it personally.”

“Huh,” Macaque frowned as MK pulled up alongside the shop. “Well, I guess that’s not a surprise. I don’t get along with a lot of people in the past, either.” He pulled the headphones off his ears and handed them back to MK. “Maybe I can win them over. I don’t know what I did to make them mad at me, but I probably shouldn’t be on bad terms with your friends if you’re Wukong’s successor.”

“I mean, yeah,” MK said, hoping he sounded more optimistic than he felt, “maybe we can, uh- we can put in a good word for future you. Present you. Whichever you it is.” He cleared his throat and hopped out of the vehicle. “Come on! I’m sure Mr. Tang is pacing a track in the floor trying to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

Macaque slid out of the passenger seat and followed MK to the door. “Is this Mr. Tang guy familiar with my kind of magic?”

“He’s familiar with some magic,” MK supplied. “He’s still learning. And you’re a little cagey about your, uh… whatever you got going on.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I don’t even understand my powers half the time.” Macaque’s hand trailed to his chest, like he had something to protect there. “Hopefully, we won’t have to pry at anything to figure this out.”  He grasped the knot of his bandana as MK parted the wooden curtain leading inside.

Everyone was waiting, heads snapping to the door as MK entered. “MK!” Mei gasped, jumping from her chair and grabbing MK by the shoulders. “Are you okay? Where is-”

“Macaque!” Tang, half-hidden by a pile of books, yelped as the shadow slipped in the door behind MK. “He’s here!”

Pigsy’s eyes narrowed. “He didn’t try anything, did he?” He jabbed an accusing ladle in Macaque’s direction. “I better not find out that this is some trick of yours, ‘cause I have a pot of boiling water with your name on it.”

Macaque crossed his arms, looking self-conscious under Pigsy’s scrutinizing stare. “Alright, yeah, I see what you mean,” he told MK. “These guys do not like me. Which,” he lifted his hands placatingly, “I’m sure you all have perfectly good reasons for! So, I’m just gonna sit over here,” he moved to a table in the corner of the shop and pulled out a chair, “and, uh… be very quiet.”

While everyone else in the noodle shop seemed surprised by the complacency, Sandy waved from across the room. “Hello, Mr. Maquack,” he greeted warmly. “I heard you’re having some memory trouble.” He held up a book full of flowers and plants, “I’ve been looking for some cures; I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

The shadow gave a hesitant smile. “Maquack?” he asked.

Sandy shrugged. “You never corrected me.”

“Fair enough,” Macaque replied.

Tang squinted at Macaque, readjusting his glasses. “You know, I had my doubts about Macaque’s amnesia before, but… he’s like an entirely different person.” He pulled a book from his pile and flipped through the pages. “I’m not exactly sure what to do about this.”

“You think this is like the Monkey King’s amnesia thing?” Pigsy asked.

Mei clambered onto a barstool and leaned against the counter. “Uh- question?” she said curiously. “What amnesia thing are you guys talking about?”

“Yeah,” MK agreed. “Just a recap for, you know, anyone that didn’t see what happened.”

“Well, someone woke Monkey King from his transcendental meditation,” Tang said, glaring pointedly at Pigsy, whose only response was a huff and an eyeroll. “We were dealing with a much younger Monkey King for a while, and he seemed convinced that Mo, Pigsy, and I were his friends from the Journey.”

Macaque, from across the room, asked, “What journey?”

“But Macaque doesn’t think we’re anyone else,” Mei pointed out. “He just doesn’t know who we are.”

“And I don’t think he was meditating when I found him,” MK added. “I mean, it looked similar, I guess, but we're still not really sure what happened.”

Pigsy idly stirred his pot of noodles. “Well, it’s still amnesia, ain’t it? Let’s just find a big rock and have MK chuck it at his head. It fixed Monkey King just fine.”

“Sorry,” Macaque interjected. “Did you, uh- did you say that you threw a rock at Wukong? Because I find that both hilarious and mildly concerning.”

Sandy scratched his head in thought. “I’m sure there’s a better solution than that,” he insisted. “Throwing a rock at him seems like such a violent way to solve a medical emergency.”

Tang made an unsure noise. “Are we sure that this is a medical emergency? MK said that Macaque was doing something with his magic. If this is some kind of mystical interference, there might not be a lot of mortal remedies that can help.” He gestured to Macaque. “We don’t even know if Macaque is as indestructible as Monkey King is. Throwing a rock at him might actually make this worse.”

Mei hummed in thought. “Remind me again why we’re not asking Monkey King for help?” She placed her chin in her hand. “I mean, he’d know Macaque better than any of us, right? Maybe Monkey King has seen this before, even if this Macaque doesn’t remember it.”

“Even if this Macaque doesn’t remember anything, Monkey King does,” Tang pointed out. “Would he even be willing to help Macaque?”

“I mean…” MK started reluctantly, “they have been on better terms since the Scroll of Memory.” He fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, dragging it up and down anxiously. Just because Macaque had helped with the Scroll, didn’t mean the shadow and the king were on good terms. Their whole situation was too difficult to navigate. “Monkey King might be willing to help, probably.”

Pigsy raised an eyebrow. “Then why didn’t you call him,” he asked, and the question made MK shrink a little, because Pigsy never asked questions like that unless he already knew the answer. And, the truth was, MK wasn’t sure if Monkey King would help.

There were centuries of distance between Monkey King and Macaque, and MK was certain that the gentle exchange of glances he’d seen in the Scroll was only a mere dent in the walls they’d created around each other. Even with Macaque out of the loop, MK honestly wouldn’t put it past his mentor to heckle the oblivious shadow, anyway, just for the fun of it. And not only would that be incredibly unhelpful, it also wasn’t particularly fair to the memory-impaired Macaque.

“You know I can still hear you guys, right?” Macaque said from across the room, not looking particularly happy about what he was hearing. “I’m not called the Six-Eared Macaque for nothing.”

At that, Tang’s head snapped up, staring Macaque down with an odd look. “Six-Eared Macaque,” he repeated slowly.

Macaque nodded. “Uh… yeah, that’s- is that news to you?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I should have introduced myself. MK seemed to know who I was, I guess I just assumed his friends would, too.”

“The Six-Eared Macaque?” Tang clarified.

“Well, I assume it’s the Six-Eared Macaque,” the shadow replied, sounding vaguely amused. “Unless that’s somehow become a common name in the last few hundred years.”

That didn’t seem to soothe Tang’s confusion, his brow furrowing as he turned to MK. “Did you know that was his full name this whole time?”

MK shifted nervously. “I mean, yeah, he mentioned it when we first met, but I didn’t think anything of it. He introduced himself as Macaque, so that’s what I called him.”

“That can’t be right, I thought…” Tang grabbed a book, a familiar one, worn with age and use. MK leaned over his shoulder as he flipped through the ‘Journey to the West’. “I didn’t think you were-” He snapped the book shut before MK could get a good look at what chapter he was reading. “How did I not see it before?”

Tilting his head, Macaque asked, “Sorry, what can’t be right? I’m still new here, so-”

“He was part of the Brotherhood,” Tang scolded himself. “The Macaque Spirit King, the Six-Eared Macaque, it’s Macaque, it all seems so obvious now.” He slipped a hand under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Monkey King has a thousand titles; he’s Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Protector of Celestial Horses-”

“Oh!” MK interjected, “I asked him about the horse thing one time? He does not like that title, like, at all.”

Pigsy shook his head. “I don’t have the slightest clue what either of you are talking about.”

Mei hummed in agreement, “Join the club.”

“I mean, in my defense, people called Monkey King ‘macaque’ all the time!” Tang continued. “They called him ‘monkey’ and ‘simian’ and,” he turned to Macaque, “you’re a- like, a monkey demon thing, right? I thought ‘Macaque’ was just a name you got… stuck with.”

“Well, I’m- I think I’m technically celestial,” Macaque said. “And I don’t really see what my name has to do with anything.” He squinted at Tang’s copy of the Journey. “And I definitely don’t see what it has to do with that book, that’s… did someone write a book about Wukong? Am I in it?” He smiled, a fond looking thing. “Aw, he’s probably insufferable about that. His very own book.”

MK had been made acutely aware that he should have read the ‘Journey to the West’, Macaque had said as much at least three times in the Scroll. And, in hindsight, it would have been useful to have some information about Monkey King’s old enemies, but never had MK been quite so annoyed with himself for not actually sitting down and reading the Journey cover to cover. Of course, Macaque was in the book. He’d been trying to pry the information out of the two immortals for months, and he could have just read the book.

But he hadn’t, and maybe it was because some part of him didn’t really want to know the extent of the damage Monkey King had caused, or maybe he was afraid some of the enemies he’d fought had real reasons to hate the Great Sage. In any case, MK didn’t like the expression on Tang’s face as he looked at Macaque. “You know what? Maybe I should get Monkey King,” he said quickly. “I can try astral projecting, see if he’ll come to the noodle shop and help us brainstorm. Or I can bring Macaque to him! Maybe he’ll have something in the cave that can help.”

“He has always been a bit of a hoarder,” Macaque mused. “And if he’s been collecting for a thousand years, maybe he does have something.” Confusion creased his brow. “But I thought he was busy.”

Mei snorted. “Busy eating peaches, maybe,” she joked. “It’s his day off. MK had training with you today, so I doubt Monkey King is doing much of anything.”

Macaque glanced at MK, raising an eyebrow, “Mystic Monkey business, huh?”

MK gave a sheepish smile. “Yeah, so…” He ducked away and scurried to the stairs that led up to his apartment. “I’m gonna go call Monkey King! Be back in a minute.” He bolted up to his room, eager to escape Macaque’s prying gaze, shutting the door firmly behind him and slumping against the nearest wall, dragging his hands down his face with an exasperated groan.

As much as MK wanted to avoid a fight between the mystic monkeys, he’d reached a point that he was flailing for answers. And Macaque was behaving himself, if only because he didn’t remember how to be bitter, so if Monkey King was willing to call a truce long enough to help, maybe–just maybe –MK wouldn’t have to deal with them fighting like children.

He sighed and pushed himself off the wall, closing his eyes and summoning the focus to project himself outwards in search of Monkey King. If there was anything optimistic to be found in the ruins of his training session, it was that dealing with his two emotionally incompetent mentors would, at the very least, be a fantastic exercise in patience.

[solradguy]

Complete rando here, but I just wanted to pop in and say thank you for your translations. <3 I'm reading through the GG Comic Anthology right now because I cannot sleep and they are delightful and a wonderful bit of comfort.

Thanks for reading them!! Sorry it's been so long between updates on that manga, but it sounds like this is maybe your first readthrough of it so perhaps the gaps between updates hasn't been that bad haha

[moonfurthetemmie]

oh uh. so my essay about Lucidity is getting way longer than I meant it to, because I ended up figuring more shit out as I went, but I'm impatient to share my newest fucked up beloved so i'm just going to share some basics + the heroforge ref

JR is gone. Their head quarters literally blew up and there's only a handful of survivors. He didn't take it well.

he took it so badly in fact that he eventually ended up with goddam Jet and Obsidian, because it just so happened that they're looking for the same group that blew up JR to get rid of them! And since Lucidity, in shock and grieving and absolutely livid, is hunting them, they decided to team up.

yeah he lost his goddam mind <3

this whole thing started with me going 'what if i made ds dream evil and made him and obsidian kiss. could i do that?' and it evolved into "so there's a gay evil poly going on, but that's side story because right now we're watching lucidity's descent into evil and low-level madness as he hunts down [group] and otherwise just helps obsidian and jet achieve multiverse domination. because he's having fun."

He's also realized that he does care about nightmare a lot and really doesn't want to kill him, so there's that I guess?

oh the meme squad knows what's happening. they may be the only other ones from their MV who knows but I'm not certain yet

also Lucidity's versions of Obsidian and Jet are presently nicknamed Shale and Nightshade, respectively, though this may be subject to change.

While Lucidity's presence has made the situation in JMV much much worse overall, he has managed to get certain specific things to stop. jade and zuli are doing a little better now.

someone should probably stop them but honestly i have no idea who or how so they're just going to run free and cause severe problems for everyone. except nightmare. lucidity won't let nightmare get involved in any way, shape, or form, including trying to keep him hidden away in the manor. nightmare must go home and stay there.

(Nightmare, Cross, and Error are digging up all the information they can find about what's been happening in JMV. they have no idea what they're going to do with this information, because they're real sure they can't do shit, but they're looking.)

[not-souleaterpost]

Sinuhe, the prestige tv anti-hero

Yup, this post will probably be the farthest from anything I am usually known for

So some months ago, while being stuck in the hospital, I didn't have anything better to do than read this book which I somehow got into my possesion. Funnily enough it's author is supposedly the most famous Finish author, and during the 60s there even was a Hollywood movie adaption all the jazz. Yet today it's hard to find anybody online talking about it.

So in a way this is my motivation. Yet what is there to say? Will I repeat the one thing everyone praises of it being so accurate to ancient egypt? (I'm not from Yugioh, so how would I know either way?) That it is a metaphor/retelling of the authors life and experience during the events of two world wars and the rise and fall of empires and emporours? About the cycle of history, that even if how depressing in retrospect seems to be moving, even if it all takes tragedy? - Nah, let's better talk how it reminds me of a prototype of all these grimdark shows with lots of nudity lol.

From Breaking Bad's Walter White who is driven to crime supposedly, while only being a power fantasy for both the viewer and charachter, to the as popular as it is forgoten Game Of Thrones, or even the ever so Classic Sopranos - it's funny to see how all the things were already atleast half a decade old (and probably a lot more, just read the Coun of Montecristo, which may be more relevant to a certain topic so lets just wait for that in a certain video...)

But for examples, we have the narrator figure, a quasi tragic yet at the same time clear figure for the reader to insert and feel powerful - he gets seduced by a beautiful women, get's access to the highest court, has an mystical origin (being a proto-Moses figure, but thats another topic), gets into serious yet allways non-lethal adventures, ending like cartoons with last minute saves and contrivances - his growing mysantrophy and cynicism only making him appear more cool for school.

I think maybe that's what I'm getting at - many "serious" shows today (or maybe ever? Guess I'm actually kinda uncultured so who knows) - seem in a lot of ways more childish than the silliest cartoons - atleast the later do their gags for their own sake, not to get a one up on the people that bullied and spiteted them, which the motivation for most of these shows are.

But what am trying to say? Am I shiting on the book? Nah just on the shows, and even then not really - still like the Sopranos, the only one I truly dislike is Game Of Thrones and am happy that I only saw a few scenes and moments passing by the family tv years ago before it was ok to dislike it. Still one will ask, what my point is? Well I think it is, what actually makes it different from all the anti-hero tv shows afterall?

And I think it's the universal project of trying to get through all history, to give a map of humanitys progress - in both ways of a map of something existing and as a roadmap - to show where and how it all can go.

This is lacking even in the Sopranos, which in the end just stews in it's cynicism and condemns the viewer for even identifieng with the family - "they are killers and bigots, how can you care for them, you don't even the ending" - no end in sight, in all senses, no message for the future or possible resolution - like Walter White dieing in some redneck nazi bunker having removed himself from reality as the only possible solution.

Yes this book also ends in a sad way, but as I said with one in which I saw hope - the burying of his books seems more than just a framing device, but a message, that the future can and was influenced by all his experience, even if it took hundreds and thousands of years.

Even if he buried them to the void, as we all do who post here and other places, without getting any attention, not even hate mail or spam. Maybe it will all be deleted in a few years, maybe some catastrophy will destroy it even if it was backed up by some magic ai computer, yet still one has this absurd hope of what if?

So as the song stops mid scene for the anti hero, maybe it will continue for it's opposite some day as unexpectedly?

Damn.

(Also the book is mostly mundane with no supernatural elements, yet there is a guy whose ability is to just magically stop bleedings, guess I can't escape Soul Eater references lol)

[anisespice]

“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.

cont.

synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!

When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...

He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.

That man got up and left immediately.

He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.

Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.

His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.

However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”

“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”

“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.

A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?

How could you…how could you?

Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.

By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?

RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.

He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?

Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”

Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”

“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”

He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”

The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”

Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.

After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”

The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”

“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”

“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”

The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”

This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.

“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”

“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”

The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”

Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.

“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”

Ran’s smirk dropped.

Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.

SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.

However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.

And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.

He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…

“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”

Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.

Wait…Mister? Not…dad?

The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”

Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?

The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”

You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.

So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?

“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”

“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.

Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

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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[cuntdevil]

★ TOUCHDOWN ON THAT PUSSY !

a good way to celebrate the victory of a game is to have a sweet little treat right after.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, satoru gojo & geto suguru, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 5905 words !

╰┈➤ football player!gojo satoru & afab!reader (she/her) & football player!geto suguru, college football!au, threesome, some bantering on satosugu's part, teasing, oral through the panties, dry humping and groping, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, nipple play, oral (female & male receiving), cum eating, satosugu kiss, not proofread, etc.

( author's note. ) i had a vision of geto licking the pussy clean right after gojo cums in it, so i had to make it a reality. im a whore & also wanted some boy on boy action so accept this because i feel like that's the only right way to do a threesome. especially with satosugu.

Gojo has a promising future ahead of him as he dashes across the football field on the ten second mark. He can’t hear a thing underneath his heavy football helmet, but everyone’s screaming is getting louder as they stand on the bleachers and egging him closer to touchdown. He’s unstoppable. His teammates back him up as they prevent the opposing team from laying a finger on him and if they get too close, Gojo’s an extraordinaire at ducking and dodging. 

An absolute fiend he is, blazing through the bright green grass like the roadrunner, swift on his feet as he’s so close to victory. His coach was right, the Racers were no joke as they gave them their most difficult game in the season. Now they’re at neck-and-neck, tied at 15. His team is depending on him to break this tie, to keep their winning streak going strong and he’d hate to disappoint.

The audience battles between watching the clock and the field, the six ticking down to a five. 

Five… They’re starting to have their doubts, dread creeping into their bones as they begin to believe he’s not going to make it. Knuckles turning white as Gojo continues to speed with the ball in his hand. 

Four… Someone is gaining up on him, only a few inches away from tackling him down until he’s beat down. There’s a stagger on his feet before he picks up the same moment. Three… Tw— It happens in a matter of a split second. With a force that could cause it to deflate, Gojo throws the ball down with his entire strength as he cheers, screaming through the helmet before the huge buzzer overhead goes off and blaring into plenty of ears. 

Their moment of apprehension is replaced with exhilaration as Gojo pulls off his helmet, revealing his white head of beautiful hair, shaking it as sweat beads down his face. His teammates all come to surround him, his coach getting into the mix as they use all of their strength to throw him in the air. The opposing side mopes, heading to their side as they grab their towels and huddle around each other. While disappointment fills their lungs as their coach tries to give words of wisdom, the other party celebrates.

It’s always been overwhelming, moments like this— especially one so big. Soon Gojo will be drafted, leaving college football to go professional and make it within the NFL. There’s already lots of chatter and noise as many people anticipate it. It feels incredulous, though he always expected it. He worked so hard for it and knew he deserved the best, but for it to become closer to him? It feels immaculate to see your dreams coming true before your eyes. They’ve happened to him aplenty, when he graduated high school and got drafted the first time. It closely resembles this, that tight feeling within his chest that’s suffocating him and close to putting him on the brink of death. 

To get to that spot right into the college he’s been wanting to attend since the moment he figured out what he wanted to pursue in life. Everything he put his eye on and decided he wanted, he got it. To know it was through his hard work and dedication to get here, it brings a huge smile on his face.

However, to say he did it all alone would be a lie and a huge disrespect to Geto's name. His close friend stuck with him through it all, holding the same ambitions simultaneously. He put in the same work as Gojo did, landing them both a spot on the same team.The one to pass him the ball and assisting in their victory. The duo was a force to be reckoned with— undeniably good with each other. 

The crowd slowly dissipated around Gojo, finally giving him the space he needed to catch his breath properly. Though, said friend and his coach stayed behind. Gojo extends his arms to be pulled into a tight hug. A retired player himself, the coach engulfs Gojo in pride and happiness for the youth. A burly chuckle that leaves his lips. “Proud of ya, son. You’re one of the strongest I’ve got blessed to work with—” Gesturing to Geto, he drags him into the hug as well. “— You, too, boy! You’ve both made me so proud.”

“Thank you, coach,” they say in unison. 

Out of the helmet, a few strands of Geto’s raven locks have left the band of his bun, the sweat making it stick to his head as he swipes them away. “We probably would’ve gotten our ass handed to us if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, ain’t that damn right!” his coach laughs. “Your football careers would’ve probably ended before they even officially started.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gojo jests, hands resting behind his head as he grins widely. “I’d’ve been fine without you.”

Slapping him in the back of his head as Gojo winces his pain, his coach chortles. “Your ass would’ve been in the ground, for sure, with that cocky attitude of yours.”

The coach leaves not too long afterwards before someone’s walking past the bleachers and onto the football field. You weren’t easily spotted at first, maneuvering yourself past hurdles of men as you can only muster up so many “excuse me’s” before you’re tired of the repetition. You’re wearing one of Satoru’s jerseys that he got tailored to fit you just right, it is hugging you and your curves that the football players that want to ogle are immediately deterred they see the number of just who you belong to. Geto spots you first, the white-haired man has his back turned as he grabs a few of his things and is ready to head to the locker room before he’s being nudged. “Your trophy’s arrived.”

Knowing exactly who he’s talking about, Gojo spins on his heel right as you’re easier to make out through the shortening distance. That boyish smile that graces his features as he turns into an absolute fool when you’re in his sights. He goes to close the gap, jogging to close it even sooner. You pick up your pace, landing in his arms as you’re quickly engulfed by his sweaty form. You inhale his scent, accustomed to the sweaty musk after a game. He plants a chaste kiss against your neck, humming as his grip tightens.

“You were great out there,” you breathe, arms wrapping around his neck before he detaches himself from yours. “It’s probably the best you’ve ever played.”

“Thanks, babe,” you murmurs, pulling you into a kiss. “Could’ve done infinitely better if you were out there on the field with me.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t get tired of that stale joke, do you?”

“Because I’m not joking,” he pouts. “If I got to chase after your fine ass out there, we would’ve beat them much faster than we did.”

Pinching his arm so that he can put you down, you immediately go to fix your shirt. You exhale, “Well, you have Geto out there with you. He’s got a nice bubble butt just for you to chase.”

Grimacing, Geto frowns as you come to approach him. He extends his arms to pull you in his embrace. “I don’t think I like your form of objectification. Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees. “I don’t think I like your admittance that you’ve checked out my best friend.”

The hug between you and Geto lasts a little longer than it should, though shorter than your embrace with Gojo. Pulling away from the heat that Geto enfolds you in, you push at his chest as you giggle, kissing Gojo’s pouting cheek in reassurance. Your hands wrap around his waist, one lingering to his ass as you give it a few pats. “Don’t worry, babes. I prefer yours, anyway.” 

The field is diminishing as the three of you linger, the boys getting their things together. You planned on waiting for them not too far along, hanging with a bunch of your girl friends in a group, so that you can feel safer before you leave. Gojo comes to peck your lips once more. “I’ll message you when we’re ready, ‘kay?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Call or text me if you need anything,” he presses.

“Of course, I will,” you assure him, puckering up your lips some more for more affection that he’s glad to give. With a few more farewells before he lets you leave, you’re throwing Geto a temporary goodbye before you’re sauntering down the field again, your hips swaying with every step you take. The two boys watch you leave before Geto’s glancing at Gojo. “Have you told her?”

He knows his best friend all too well, aware that he can prolong things to the absolute last second. And just as he suspected, Gojo shakes his head. “Nah, not yet.”

However, it still brings him to shock that he’d do it for something like this. Something you might not even agree to. “Why not?”

“Because I thought it would be a nice surprise,” he shrugs, his nonchalance picking at Geto’s annoyance. "Makes it sexier.”

“What if she says no?”

“She won’t.”

“Satoru,” Geto digs, crossing his arms as the two finally make their way to the locker room. He can be such a cocky asshole sometimes, so sure of himself until he’s hearing the word ‘no’ and feeling like a fool. And in this case, Geto can also be one if you end up disagreeing. 

“She won’t! I promise you,” Gojo continues reassuring his best friend. He’s seen the way you interact with Geto. You’ve admitted your attraction towards the long-haired brunette before, when he vaguely tried to get your opinion on the proposition of a threesome with him. He never coined the term exactly, but he assumed that through your attraction, it would be something you’re interested in. “I know my girl better than anything. She’s down.”

Geto sighs as he decides to put his trust into Gojo instead of making the decision to delay things in itself. He’s said it before. I know my girl better than anything. While Gojo’s been wrong on plenty of things, so far, when it comes to you, Gojo’s an expert. Punching his arm to elicit a wince, white eyebrows furrowing before glaring at Geto. He doesn’t have to verbally say it, What was that for? 

Geto points in his face, brown eyes boring holes into Gojo’s blue. “You better be right because I’ll beat your ass if you’re not.”

—

From Gojo: hey, the locker room is empty now. just me and geto. come.

You furrow your eyebrows reading Geto’s name. Typically when the locker room is empty, it’s an open invite for sex. And if another person’s in there, it’s not entirely empty as he says it is.

To Gojo: geto?

Immediately, Gojo’s typing in. Three dots bouncing before your phone is vibrating in your hand once more.

From Gojo: just come. wanna talk about something with u

“Hey,” you call for the attention of the girls that around you at a picnic table. They were all nice to stay with you for the time being. “Gojo said he’s ready. I’m gonna go meet up with him.”

“Do you want us to come with?” one of them asks, eyes brightening up as she comes to stand. However, shaking your head, you stop her.

“No, I’m fine from here. Thank you so much, though!” you bid your farewells, showing your gratitude to them repetitively as you walk off. Then, you’re met with the silence of the night, hearing the chirps of cicadas and crickets deep in the grass and the sizzling of the overhead lights illuminating your path as the sky begins to darken. It’s getting chilly as you hold yourself, the short-sleeved jersey and the tight denim jeans barely doing a thing to conceal you and give you warmth. 

When you arrive at the locker room door, you know in a specific rhythm that immediately lets Gojo know that you’re here. Shortly enough, the door swings open as Gojo’s standing before you, dressed down in a pair of baggy gym shorts that stop below his knees and a muscle tee. He pulls you in by the waist, kissing you quickly and leading a path towards Geto. He sports a similar fit to Gojo’s, just replace the shirt with a regular band one. His hair back in a neater bun as he leans against the lockers, arms crossed and one leg on one of the seats. There’s a shift within the air as Gojo sits down next to his leg, making you cock an eyebrow as you grow nervous. “What’s up? Is something the matter?”

“No,” Gojo denies. “Nothing’s wrong. Just need to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?” The tension in the air nips at your skin, bringing you to a comfort that you don’t like. Noticing this, Gojo puts his hand in yours, pulling you down onto his lap to put his lips on yours to ease it. Geto can only watch, shifting to hide the impending erection just in case this goes left. His moist pink lips on yours are sweet. They always are. Making you addicted to them and has you whining when he pulls away. 

“You trust me, right?” Gojo’s blue eyes stare into yours, searching for something that you can’t quite define. Yet, you nod because you do. You always have. “And you know that if you don’t want this, you can say no, right?”

“Want what—”

“If Geto were to kiss you right now,” Gojo interjects. “How’d you feel?”

“‘Toru,” you look at him in confusion, refusing to look over at Geto. “What are you getting at?”

“Man,” Geto finally speaks up. “I told you, you should’ve—”

However, he’s cut off with a hush from Gojo before his focus is right back to you. He takes a deep breath as you’re trying to get a hold of what’s happening before you. Your mind is going to a few possibilities before you land on the right one. But, in denial, you wait for Gojo to continue speaking. “If he were to touch you—” his hands start traveling all over you, from your shoulders down to your thighs to in between your stomach and to in between the crevices of your breasts. Your heart rate starts to increase as well as your breathing as you finally muster up the courage to glance over at Geto, whose eyes are already on you. “—touch you in the way I do. Make you feel good in the way, er, close to the way I do… Would you want that?”

Your eyes haven’t left Geto’s, mind finally wrapping around the current proposition. “You want a threesome?”

Glancing over at his friend, Gojo nods. “Yeah, we’ve talked about it, but we won’t do it if you don’t want to. If you say no—”

“No,” you say so abruptly before you’re sputtering on your words as Gojo’s immediately caught off guard. “Wait, I mean, yes. I agree.”

It takes a moment for either man to register that you’re agreeing to this. That you want to have a threesome. Gojo chokes out a laugh, a grin gracing his features. “You had me on a rollercoaster for a second.” 

“Sorry,” you apologize sheepishly. Geto inches closer to the two of you, hand pushing at the back of Gojo’s head. 

“Guess you were right,” the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “You do know your girl.”

— 

You never took your attraction towards Geto seriously. He was a sweet guy and often people have told you that you should’ve gone for him instead of Gojo. However, you have a type. And while Geto is an angel and if you were to date him, he’d treat you like royalty, you know Gojo’s the one for you. That’s why Gojo has so much trust in you. Knowing that despite it all, you’ll still run to him after this. That despite Geto’s hands on you right now, your back leans against him and holding onto his wrist as he’s got you secure in his hold.

His cock is painfully hard in his gym shorts, pressing into your back as you’re slouched off the seat. Gojo’s hand is snaked under your jersey, your bra hiked over your breasts as they’re pooled out for his enjoyment. Your breathing is heavy, dark nipples puckered and being played with. You’ve let out breathy moans and squeaky whines as the two men are determined to tease you to death. Despite your pleas, Geto continues to play with your pussy through the fabric of your panties, watching how it darkens as your juices soak through it. His thumb would prod at your clit, pressing down as your arousal keeps on coming and pushing through. Your sweet cunt would throb and clench for more, thighs tensing up as the boys sought after your torture. 

Your back arches as you plead, begging Geto to do more. “Please, Sug. Please.”

Then Gojo moves one hand to play with the band of your panties, the hem continuously snapping against your skin as your boyfriend lets Geto continue his teasing. Geto would be a liar to say he’s doing all of this because he loves to see you whine and writh from what he’s doing, but truthfully, it’s not. While he loves seeing how you get so worked up, he enjoys seeing how your pussy can develop so much slick. The bubbles that it forms as you’re just secreting so much that it comes to mess in between your thighs whenever you tighten them together to the point he has to pry your legs open once more. He should stop, his cock painfully hard and wanting nothing more than to empty himself inside of you, but no. Impatience never leads to anything good. 

It feels so good, having you buck your hips out, pressing your body into Gojo and squirming around. You don’t know what you’re doing to your boyfriend, rubbing against him in your lust-fogged mind as you can’t focus on the erection against your back. He wants nothing more than to have you. Fuck that tight pussy of yours and have his fill, but he won’t dare be too hasty for the sake of his best friend. The one down on his knees messing with your pussy as if it were a toy, resembling a cat. But, he himself is growing impatient and he’s afraid that with you pressed into him like this, he’s going to cum earlier than anticipated. 

“C’mon, Sug,” he emphasizes your nickname for Geto. “Give my girl what she wants.”

“Is that why your girl is such a spoiled brat?” the brunette chuckles. “Always giving into what she wants?”

You whine and pout at him Geto. “‘m not—”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees, turning your head to face him and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. “Maybe if you were more giving, you’d have a girl already.”

You find it obnoxious how even in a moment like this, they find a way to banter with each other. It makes you frown as you jut your hip out forward. “Stop arguing and do something already.”

Finally does Geto inch in closer to your pussy, fingers prodding at the hem of your panties, but not moving it. You can feel his breath against your covered cunt, breathing steadily while you feel like an erratic mess. “And there you go proving me right,” he chuckles. 

His tongue presses against your core, not removing your panties as you hoped, but he presses into your cunt deep that it tickles your folds and has you jolting in Gojo’s arms. You can hear a soft fuck leave Gojo’s lips as he bucks his hips out. Hooded eyelids with his sapphire blue eyes peering down at you as yours are shut now. 

Your braids tickle his bare skin, and surely a bit disheveled at the naughty actions you’re partaking in tonight. However, he can ignore the scratching as he watches Geto enjoy the taste of your pussy, sucking up your slick through the fabric of your panties. It’s a lewd sight that he can’t help but chuckle at, pushing you more into his tongue as Geto’s arms come to grip your thighs and pull you closer to the edge. 

One hand traverses to press a thumb into your clit while he laps at your panties, sucking at it hard to drag your juices out of it. You never thought you’d have found it so hot for a man to eat you out like this, it's enough being able to have you moaning like this. Your folds feel sticky as you leak and leak into your underwear. However, it’s still not enough, your body begging and aching for more to be done to you. You throw your head back, it nearly bangs into Gojo’s as you whimper out. You manage to maneuver a leg around Geto’s shoulder, bringing him closer to your core.

He’s addicted to your taste already, moaning as he feels you wrap yourself around him, slotted in between you and your boyfriend’s legs. Grunting and groaning, his cock strains inside his pants, his pre staining his boxers and surely to show through his shorts. For a girl that’s not even his to have him feeling this way, addicted off of something— someone— that’s not his. 

“Fuck,” he pulls himself off of you, leaving you unsatisfied and wanting more. He pulls your legs off him rather abruptly as he comes to his feet. He doesn’t have to say a word to Gojo, one of his hands already disappearing into the band of your panties to shove two fingers inside of you. It has you screaming out in the locker room, your cries echoing loudly. They can only hope and pray that the janitors on the night shift don’t come inside anytime soon to stop them. 

The stretch is somewhat painful, Gojo’s fingers are long and they hit deep inside of you, touching at your g-spot. He’s easy on you as Geto shuffles with his pants, pulling at the tie and letting it drop to the ground along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. He differs from Gojo, where your boyfriend has more length to him, Geto has more girth. His shaft is darker, a fat cock that is slightly over the average. His balls hang heavy as his happy trail is carefully trimmed and is wavy. The only thing you can say that the two resemble is that they’re both cut, no mushroom head to fill you up. 

He inches towards you. The fingers stuffed inside you start to move, your walls wrapping around them greedily as your pussy is so responsive. Your juices pooling down to the base of his fingers and dripping down at the palm of his hands and trickling his wrists. It’s a reason why he loves your pussy so much, so reactive and always soaked. 

Geto’s hand wraps around his length, using his pre to spread it around as he pumped it a few times. With his free hand, he comes to caress your cheek, pulling your head closer to him as he pets and touches you. Your skin his smooth, feeling the short and soft hairs as you react immediately to his soft touch. You relax in Geto’s hold as his cock’s so close to your face, pumping himself that your eyes flicker from his down to his length and back. 

“Look at you,” he says, his voice always so smooth that it could talk someone into murder. “Such a pretty little thing looking to get fucked by another man, one wasn’t enough.”

Gojo clears his throat, but Geto scoffs. “Don’t ruin the moment. Remember, you’re the one to first suggest it to me.”

That piece of information sparks your attention that Geto notices it. He chuckles, his hand grabbing at your chin and forcing you to look up at him even more. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Your boyfriend here wanted to see you get ruined by another man. He’s just as nasty as you are.”

You clench around Gojo’s fingers, a coil forming in your stomach as you try to look back at your beloved. However, Geto forces you to look at him. “Aht aht, look at me, dear. Look at the man that’s gonna stuff your face full of his cock.”

His tip kisses your bottom lip first, smearing his translucent pre on them before he props to the opening. Your mouth opens, but not enough for it to fit. You look up into his brown eyes, purposely teasing as you lick a small stripe on his tip. He shudders at the sensation, but his voice doesn’t falter when he says, “Don’t be stubborn. Open up some more.”

“Oh, just like you made me wait,” your retort has Gojo chuckling, him moving a few of your braids to whisper in your ear, “Oh, be a good girl for Suguru, babe.”

His fingers press deep into your pussy then, having you immediately dropping the act as you mewl and quickly coming to obey your boyfriend’s words. Opening your mouth wider for Geto, the head comes to rest on your tongue as you lull it out. He tsks at your obedience for your boyfriend, finding it cute yet annoying in a circumstance like this. “If I remember correctly, you were the one to agree to this.”

Then, he shoves his cock inside of you, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag and tear up. Your cry out is muffled as you’re forced to take the whole of him before he’s pulling out completely. “So, like your boyfriend said,” he pants. “Be a good girl for me, babe.”

Shortly after is the sound of squelching heard, Gojo’s fingers starting to rapidly fuck into your pussy, the impact of his fingers inside of you, creating such a lewd sound in the night. In another hour, the lights will go pitch dark, so the three of you better be done by then unless you all plan on fucking in it. Your juices pour from your pussy, sticky strings forming simultaneously as Geto enters your mouth once more. 

This time, he’s easier on you, the bottom of his shaft, grazing your tongue as his balls come to hit at your chin when the base hits your lips. He stays there for a moment, adjusting you to him before he feels your mouth closing around him completely. Your face is becoming teary-stained as you momentarily shut them before they flutter back open, the sting not dissipating, however.

You moan around his length, your tongue flattening out against the bottom of his shaft as it comes to swirl around it. You try to focus on his cock while your boyfriend obliterates your pussy with his fingers, bucking your hips into him while doing so in a visceral need. You grind down into him as one hand comes to hold onto Geto’s waist as you slowly begin to bob your head. Geto hisses at the sight before him, looking down on you as he comes to wipe away some of your tears with his thumb. 

You look so pretty like this. Laid up against your boyfriend who’s got you weak in the knees as he fucks into your pussy with his digits. Your sweet nectar dripping down onto the bench and floor as you make a mess of yourself and him. How you manage to stay so level headed keeping up the pace of sucking Geto’s cock, breathing in through your nose as you moan out and send vibrations that go straight to his cock. You’re a dirty little vixen, taking them both like this. It makes the brunette want to cum inside your mouth and your boyfriend wants this to last forever.

His cock’s grown sensitive under the restraints of his pants, pressed into him and rutting like the needy girl that you are. He’s held himself back for so long that he just can’t anymore. His fingers leave you, making you a needy mess as you whine in an attempt to ask for him back. However, he’s lifting you up, pushing you deeper against Geto’s cock and forcing you to take his entire length in your mouth. Still, you behave so well that you continue to suck at it despite it hitting the back of your throat. 

Gojo pulls down his pants and boxer briefs, letting them pool at his feet in a hurry to have himself completely sheathed inside you. Cock bearing free, the tip is red and angry with need that he doesn’t make haste in pulling you down onto him. First, you feel his length against your folds, how he’s grabbing at your hips and bringing you up and down. He glides his length in between your pussy lips, coating it in your juices in preparation before he brings his tip at your entrance, holding his cock to gently push in.

Geto eases himself, pulling you off his cock to watch you adjust to your boyfriend. Watching how your face twists and contorts in pain as you sink down on his length, taking inch by inch. You whimper and pant at the stretch, still holding onto Geto as your nails dig into his skin. When you’re fully sheathed, taking every last bit of Gojo, you’re taking heavy breaths as your boyfriend plants kisses along your neck. “I know, I know,” he whispers into your ears. “You did so good for me.”

“Feel so full,” you babble out, whining out as Gojo’s hands are at your waist, starting to bob you up and down on his length. It’s then that Geto’s back inside your mouth, taking control as he knows that you’ll now be unable to focus. He grabs a handful of your braids, pulling your mouth onto his cock. Eyes mouth shut as you moan out at both intrusions, you let your body be used for their pleasure. Your body bouncing as both men fuck into you. All that can be heard is their moans against the slapping of skin and your muffled noise. Your hands are digging so much into Geto’s skin that you might draw blood, but he can’t find it within himself to care when you’re making him feel so good. 

“Shit,” he curses, eyes shut as his mouth hangs open, hips rutting into your mouth. Saliva begins to drip from the corners as his fingers dig into your scalp, both hands preoccupied in them. Gojo’s lips are on your bare skin as he uses his strength to fuck you onto him, your pussy clenching around him as the slapping of skin sounds the entire locker room. The stench of your pussy fills their air, your smell so potent that Gojo recognizes it within a matter of seconds. It has his chest grumbling out as if he’s a feral animal, burying his nose deep into your skin as he sucks into it. 

Your pussy clenches and pulsates as you didn’t know it’d feel so good to be used like this, thinking that the videos you’ve seen of women being railed by two men to be an act. However, Geto and Gojo’s doing such a good job, ten times better than what you’ve seen before. Saliva pools heavily in your mouth, escaping it and pouring down your chin as you can barely keep your eyes open. Your mind is filled with everything dirty, not managing to stay focused on a single one as a familiar band reaches you. 

Your moans become more high-pitched and you start slapping Geto’s side. Gojo curses the signs heavily there. “S-shit,” he stutters as he feels himself twitch inside you, his orgasm approaching him as well. “She’s gonna cum.”

Geto doesn’t say anything, only fucking into your mouth harder and egging on Gojo as his thrusts up into you become brutal. Your sounds become choppy as he brings you into a quick release, your cream coating his cock in a matter of seconds as he continues fucking with a vigor. The tears that Geto wiped away are back as your sensitive folds become overworked as Gojo doesn’t stop until he’s relieved himself inside you. 

His leg tenses up before that sweet cunt of yours is milking him, flexing and contracting as your mouth is full of Geto’s load inside of you. He pants heavily as he watches your body convulse the longer Gojo stays inside you. It’s as if the three of your bodies were in sync with each other. Gojo emptying himself in you to the brim that his seed starts pushing him out. He drags you off his cock and pulls you back into him further as he can no longer stay upright. He brings you to lay against his back with him and it’s such a sight to behold that Geto’s cock hardens again in a manner of seconds. Your cunt is open and spread, just his for the taking. He can’t help himself for falling onto his knees and pushing you open.

Feeling him against both of you, you and Gojo bring your heads up to see Geto right at your cunt. It takes you too long to process, unable to utter a word and only able to cry out when you feel his lips enveloping your labia. Your folds were covered in yours and Gojo’s cum, a delicacy he wanted to try and uncaring for the man that laid claim on your cunt with his seed. Take it as him cleaning you up, a thank you for letting him have you in such a vulnerable way. 

You jolt in Gojo’s arms, but he holds you tight, his cock hardening once more himself as he watches his best friend eat away at both of your releases. You’re sensitive, he knows, but fuck is this hot. You thrash in his arms, crying out but never saying no. The only thing Gojo does to soothe you are the sweet kisses and an infinite circle drawn into your skin, telling you that you can take this. Geto doesn’t pull away until your cunt is shining and gets rid of the white.

Gojo’s eyes dilate as he’s back to sitting up and caught into the spur of the moment, catching Geto off guard when he says, “let me have a taste,” before his mouth is on him and he can taste himself and you on his best friend’s lips. You find yourself stuck in between the homoerotic scene shared amongst the two best friends, your body humming back to life that you mewl out. It’s long before they’re pulling away, pink tongues dancing against each other as the flavor is embedded into their taste buds.

Heavy panting and breathing as none of you say a word, simply digesting everything that happened. However, the jingle of keys are enough to have you all rejuvenated with energy as the door swings open. The unsuspecting voice calling out as they still see that the lights are on and a few bags thrown down haphazardly. They must’ve been wearing headphones to not hear the raunchy actions taking place prior. 

“Hello,” a voice of a man in his late forties. “Is anyone here?”

( author's note. ) SATOSUGU MY BELOVEDDDD ‼️

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 3: Bubble Tea

“Hey.” Kyle murmurs, hand lightly grazing over your shoulders to rest on the back of your neck. His palm feels warm on your skin and you unconsciously lean back into it.

“Hm?” You look up from where you were hunched over your phone - definitely not shopping for a new purse on company time.

“Gonna go pick up lunch f’the shop. Want t’ come with? I don’t think I can carry it all myself.” He asks. His eyes are always so soft when he looks at you. Relaxed and bright with that constant slight quirk in the corners of his lips.

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.” You grin, standing quickly and grabbing your wallet out of your purse to shove into your back pocket. Might as well get something for yourself if you’re going out. “Where are we heading?”

“That poke place a couple blocks up.” Kyle nods in the intended direction.

You follow him out of the shop. The weather has begun to warm more. Still cool enough for long sleeves but the sun feels nice on your face as you trot up the street, speed walking to keep up with Kyle and his accursed long legs.

“Switch with me.” Kyle murmurs, hand flattening on your lower back as he steps to the road side of the sidewalk.

You snort, cheeks warming when his hand remains a few beats longer than necessary. “How chivalrous.”

He chuckles. “My grandad always said t’never let a lady walk by the street. Guess it stuck with me.”

As much as you want to tease him about playing into gender roles, you can’t lie and say you don’t like it. That it doesn’t make your heart patter and your stomach flutter. Growing up fat, you never really got the chance to be treated delicately. Femininely. Always expected to be tougher, louder, more masculine. It feels good. Healing, in a way, as stupid as it is.

God, your inner monologue is embarrassing.

The shop is smaller than you expected. Tucked away like many buildings in this downtown with a short, blue awning shading the teal colored door. It’s surprisingly crowded too, people packed in like sardines and filing in and out quickly. The inside is nicely decorated - a few tables off to the side that no one seems to stay at. They more so seem to act as a waiting spot until people get their food and head out. The menu board is shaped like a bright blue, wall-length fish.

“Ladies first.” Kyle grins, opening the door for you. You roll your eyes at him, earning a pinch to your side in return. It’s almost strange how easy things are with him - with all of them. You don’t think you’ve ever been this comfortable around a group of men before. That would probably make you sad if you thought about it for long enough.

Kyle passes you a little clipboard with a stack of papers to customize your poke bowl and a small pen. He begins filling out three for the others, seemingly from memory. You wonder how often they come down here - if it’s their favorite local spot or just convenient. You look over his shoulder, snooping for the others preferences. Apparent Simon likes a lot of spice. Johnny, not so much.

Your eyes widen as you reach the bottom of your menu. “They have boba!”

“You want some?” Kyle grins.

You nod excitedly. Like a kid discovering a new candy. It’s been so long since you got your hands on some bubble tea - if you’d known they had it sooner you would’ve been in here nearly everyday. Then again, maybe it’s good that you didn’t know.

Kyle holds out his hand. You look between it and his face dumbly for a few moments, clutching your order in your hands before putting the pieces together.

“I can get my own!” You insist. “I don’t-“

“Price’s treat, love.” He snags the paper from your hands. “He always pays when we come here.”

“Oh. Okay.” You chew your lip. “I can at least pay for my drink, since it’s extra-“

He just waves you off and marches up to the register. You don’t miss the fact that he pulls out a very shiny credit card. So it’s not Price’s treat. It’s a company treat, eh?

Not that you’re going to complain. Free poke and boba is a dream come true.

Kyle takes your little plastic number, ducking to snag a now freed up table to wait at. They’re tall, causing you to scramble unceremoniously to get up in the heightened chair. You think you see him laughing out of the corner of your eye, but as soon as you face him he’s just sitting with that usual, casual smile of his.

One of the workers brings over your drinks in a little carrier, saying the food will take a minute longer. You’ve never been patient, greedily grabbing your tea and aggressively stabbing through the cover.

“When do you think John’s gonna let you do your first real tattoo?” You ask, kicking your feet under the tall chair.

Kyle shrugs. “He said soon. I think he’s waitin’ for me to’ be less nervous about it. Plus I need to find someone to do it on-“

“You can do it on me.” You blurt without thinking.

He eyes you. “Really?”

You nod excitedly. “I really like your work - at least what I’ve seen of it. It doesn’t have to be anything big. I’m perfectly happy with one your black-only flashes. That way you can start small.”

“I don’t know…”

“Plus, John says I sit real good. I’m not gonna wriggle and fuck you up.” You chew your straw absentmindedly.

“And what do you get out of this?” Kyle cocks and eyebrow, that slight, constant smirk only growing across his face.

You tap your chin. “Bragging rights when you get famous someday. I got the first official Garrick tattoo ever!”

A surprised laugh forces it’s way out of him, sending him into a coughing fit around the drink he was sipping. “Don’t think I’m gonna be that good, love.”

You reach out, resting your hand over his as a strange wave of seriousness overtakes you. “I don’t think John would take you on as an apprentice if he didn’t think so. Plus, you should hear how much he brags about you. It’s almost insufferable.”

There’s something in his eyes as he gives you another once over. It’s slower this time, dragging up your arm and across your features and back down your other arm, coming to an end where your hand lays over his. Kyle turns his hand upward, brushing his two middle fingers over your pulse point. It steals your breath, strangely enough. He hold your hand so gently, barely cupping it in his.

You wish you could tell what he’s thinking. For all Kyle’s honest and kind nature, he’s hard to read. That perma-smirk hides a lot more than you think you or anyone else realizes.

“Alright. I’ll talk t’John about it.” He murmurs, withdrawing his hand.

“Yah. You better.” You grin, leaning back in your seat just as the food comes out.

[autumnmatt]

𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.

summary: matt is playing fornite with his two brothers and he gets to loud when he keeps losing, causing his girlfriend to wake up from her slumber.

classification: fluff

warnings: kissing, pet names, suggestive language, use of y/n

it was about 3 in the morning and you were fast asleep in yours and matts bed, snuggled up in a blanket with matts stuffed pug mr. wrinkleton tucked under your arm.

matt on the other hand was in the middle of a very intense fornite match with his brothers nick and chris. there were about 10 people left in that match and your boyfriend was very determined to win.

all was going good during the game play until him and his brothers came across this very sweaty team. “on me on me!! these kids are good I need backup quickkk” matt yelled to nick and chris through his headset.

he then faced one of the opposing teammates but of course he lost the battle between them and got knocked. “FUCKKKKK” he screamed out of frustration. nick also got killed a little while after matt did by the same person.

y/n wasn’t that much of a heavy sleeper so when he started to yell out, she shifted in bed a little opening up her eyes to see what the yelling was coming from.

she looked up and saw the bright screen in front of her with fornite being played along with her boyfriend sitting in his gaming chair banging on the desk from just getting killed. she puts the blanket over her head and closes her eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

“CHRIS DUDE YOURE SO BAD THOSE KIDS WERE ASS” matt yells, slamming his controller on the desk making a very loud sound that could be heard throughout the room.

y/n tossed and turned once more slowly losing the battle of getting back to sleep. so she got up, yanked the covers off of her body, and started sleepily walking over towards matt, dragging her feet with every step she took.

once she made it over to the chair where he sat she stood there, waiting for matt to realize she was standing here. and once he did he could see the pout forming on her lips, instantly feeling guilt for being so loud so late at night.

“oh baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he frowned, muting his mic and taking his headset off then holding his arms out to her and patting his lap, inviting her to come sit down.

she straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his warm body and taking in his familiar scent, the scent she loved most.

“go back to sleep baby, I promise I’ll keep it down”. he said and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her so that he could still have access to the controller also slowly rubbing up and down on her lower back.

“come to bed with me.” she groaned into his shoulder. she was already strarting to fall back asleep.

“of course I will baby.” he smiled taking his hands off the controller putting the headset on one last time to tells his brothers his was going to sleep. he shut of his computer, put his headset and controller up and gently picked her up to bring to the bed.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling out of his arms. your face now buried into his chest.

he set you down on your side of the bed before walking over to his pulling the blanket over the both of you and situating the pillows so they were at a comfortable position under your heads.

you faced him for a few seconds to say your goodnights. you kissed his lips lazily before speaking. “goodnight I love you.” you spoke up, resting your head onto his chest and wrapping your arms around him.

“goodnight I love you too baby”. he said before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. he kissed your forehead before you slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

a/n: AHHHH I think this is so cute. my 2nd story on here, thank you so much for the love on my first story and definitely send me some requests. hope you enjoyed this fic, love you all!!!

taglist: @stayingstromboli @conspiracy-ash

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[pure-smut]

sunshine.

featuring: Hinata Shoyo x f!reader

contains: timeskip!Hinata, best friends to lovers, unprotected s*x, creampie, slight overstimulation at the end

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: if anyone knows the artist for the cover picture, I searched everywhere and couldn't find them!! Pls and ty in advance <3

When Hinata Shoyo left for Brazil, it was like an eclipse over your life.

You’re best friends so you still talk almost every day, whether it’s quick messages squeezed into busy days or a video call right as one of you wakes up and the other one is about to sleep. But Hinata was the sunshine in your life - a bright, burning ball of energy that powered your days. When he left, everything went a little bit gloomier.

You’re busy yourself with college – meeting new people, keeping up with classes, and making time to catch up with everyone from Karasuno. Still, it feels like a candle trying to compete with the sun.

So when you show up at a house party, not really feeling up for it but wanting to see your old classmates again, you stop dead in the doorway.

Sitting on the sofa, surrounded by everyone you know, you see shock of orange hair and hear a familiar laugh. Your mouth falls open.

“Sho…?”

Hinata turns at the sound of your voice, a broad smile breaking out on his face. The moon slides to the side, the sun shining again. Your heart thunders in your ears.

“Y/n!” he calls out, leaping up and sprinting over to you.

You’re still in shock when he scoops you up into a hug, squeezing you tight.

“You’re here?” is all you can say.

Hinata doesn’t stop hugging you but you hear him laugh, vibrating through his chest.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He pulls back to grin at you, brown eyes alight. “Are you surprised?”

You huff out laughter, your shock subsiding, and wrap your arms around his neck for another hug.

“It’s a great surprise,” you say, smiling hard.

It’s only when you put your arms around him that you realise how big he’s gotten. He’s a few inches taller than before and he’s broader than you remember, his shoulders hard as rocks. When you pull away from the hug, you hope he doesn’t notice the blush dusting your cheeks.

You both make your way into the party to a chorus of greetings from your old classmates. Hinata sits back down on the sofa but you linger, realising all the seats are taken.

“Um…”

“Sit here, y/n,” Hinata says, patting his thigh.

You don’t know why the idea makes you blush so hard – you and Hinata were always physically close, not afraid to hug or touch. Maybe it's because it's been years since you saw him in person. Maybe it's because...

You search his face for any sign he feels as flustered as you but he’s wearing an easy smile, his head cocked to the side as he waits for you to reply.

“S-sure,” you stammer out.

As soon as you slide onto Hinata’s lap, his arm snakes around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. His thighs are solid beneath you, as built as the rest of him. You obviously knew he trained hard in Brazil but you didn’t realise just how much he’s changed. You chance a glance at him, wondering if anything else has changed.

Hinata catches your eye.

“You okay?” he asks, flashing you a smile. “Comfy?”

Confidence. Hinata hasn’t only gained muscle in Brazil – the awkward teenage boy you knew has been replaced with a man. A man who flirts with his best friend, who invites you to sit on his lap with ease.

You wonder if he’s flirting because it’s you or because it’s his personality now. You’re not sure.

You’ve been quiet for too long because Hinata’s smile starts to drop. His eyebrows furrow.

“Seriously, you okay?” He lowers his voice, leaning in closer. “You don’t need to sit here if you don’t want.”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry, I was just…” You give him a sheepish smile. “I was thinking, you’ve changed a lot.”

“I have?” Hinata looks genuinely confused before his expression clears. “Oh! Yeah, I grew like three inches!”

He grins wide and you smother your laughter.

“I mean, yeah, that,” you say. “But you’re like… bigger.”

You get the first glimpse of the Hinata you used to know as his cheeks tint pink. He rubs the back of his neck bashfully and you’re treated to his bicep bulging with the movement.

“Heh, yeah, I guess so.” His eyes swivel to yours. “You’ve changed too.”

This catches you off guard. You glance down at yourself before looking back up at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s like you get prettier every year.”

Your cheeks go hot. Hinata holds your gaze and you get a familiar feeling in your stomach, something you haven’t felt since he left. Intense, like you’re looking directly at the sun. Your skin prickles and you feel light-headed, like you’ve been sunbathing too long. It’s the effect Hinata has on you, that he’s always had on you.

Your sunshine.

Hinata’s hand tightens on your hip, not looking away. There’s something taut between you that thrums with electricity. You know there’s a party full of people around you but everything around Hinata has fallen into darkness. He’s the burning ball of fire in front of you, blocking out all else.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confesses, voice low and thick. “But I want to do it somewhere better. You deserve somewhere better.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. You open your mouth to say something but your voice sticks. You give a small nod instead, not able to tear your eyes away from his.

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Hinata says. “Please?”

You lick your lips to wet them and Hinata eyes dart down before flicking back up.

“Yeah,” you manage to croak out. “I’d really like that.”

Hinata grins like he’s just won a volleyball game, his ears pink. You both return to the chatter of the party but you feel Hinata’s thumb tracing circles on your hip, his hand on you the entire night.

*

You spend the entire next day trying on clothes and throwing them to the floor. Hinata had told you to dress nice and be ready for 7pm but he insisted on keeping the rest a secret. The closer that 7pm gets, the more frantic you are.

Eventually, you settle on a short black dress, showing just enough leg and cleavage without looking like you’re about to hit up a club. You’re finishing the last of your make-up as the doorbell goes. 7pm on the dot.

You open the door to see Hinata grinning, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers, and your heart melts. He’s wearing a fitted emerald green shirt, tight across his chest and arms, in contrast to the fiery orange of his hair. If you hadn’t noticed the change in him before, you wouldn’t be able to ignore it now.

But Hinata’s smile falters as he sees you. He blinks once, twice, his mouth dropping open. His eyes trail down your body as his ears turn hot pink.

“Holy shit,” he exclaims.

It’s your turn to blush under the intensity of Hinata’s gaze. You gesture for him to come inside and he does as you close the door behind him. You barely have time to turn around before Hinata closes the space between you, forcing you to press your back against the door.

Hinata scoops his hand under your jaw, tilting your face up to his. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he dips his head, his other hand finding your waist. When he kisses you, he feels like molten fire.

Hinata’s lips are soft but his grip on your jaw is firm, only a fraction of his strength. You clutch at the hard muscles of his back, anchoring yourself to him. When his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, you give no resistance. His tongue meets your own as you moan into his mouth, melting under his touch. Hinata’s body responds, his cock hardening until you can feel it pressed against your lower stomach.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“I’m sorry.” He presses his forehead against yours. “I had a whole plan but when I saw you…”

Hinata tightens his grip on you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he cradles the back of your skull.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he finishes, shaking his head. “I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“It was perfect,” you tell him and it’s the truth.

You’re almost dizzy and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You’ve always missed your best friend but now you crave him. Your hands run up his back as you reach up to kiss him again.

“Fuck…” he mumbles against your mouth. “I don’t wanna stop.”

“Then let’s not stop,” you say, kissing across his jaw.

“The reservation…” Hinata’s hips grind against yours on instinct as your lips reach his neck. “Our – ah – date…”

He groans as you lick across his windpipe, his bulge now apparent as he continues to grind it against you, his body moving of its own accord.

“I waited so long to show you…” He sounds so upset with himself.

“Sho.” You take his face in your hands, looking at him. His eyes are half-lidded and glazed over. “All I want is you. I don’t need anything else.”

Hinata’s face softens. He leans forward to bury his face in your neck.

“I missed you so much,” he says, voice muffled. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You reach around to run your fingers through his vibrant hair, feeling him shudder with pleasure under your touch.

“Show me,” you whisper.

Hinata’s resolve crumbles. He’s spent so long taming his impulsive side, the part of him that moves without thinking, without regard for consequences. But now you’re in front of him, asking him to take you, and the rest of the world goes white.

He dips his head to kiss you again, this time with intent. His hands grab at you, fingers digging into your flesh as he presses you flush to him, trapping you between his body and the door.

As his tongue laps into your mouth, he reaches down to grab your thigh, holding it up and forcing your dress to ride up over your hips. His bulge grinds against your clothed pussy, the friction making your clit throb with need. You tilt your head back and sigh as Hinata trails wet kisses down your neck.

With two layers of fabric between you, you start to whine, needing more. Hinata’s spent years wondering what you sound like, imagining the noises he could get you to make, but nothing compares to hearing you for the first time.

His movements are frantic, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before tugging them down. They’re not even fully off, still dangling around your ankle when Hinata unzips his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Now it’s happening – now it’s finally happening – he can’t hold back. He grabs your ass with both hands, lifting you until you can feel his fat tip pressing against your hole.

“Are you okay?” he breathes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips red and swollen. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Sho. I need you.”

Hinata presses you against the door as he pushes himself inside. He doesn’t want to go too fast, doesn’t want to hurt you, but as soon as he feels your walls around him, he can’t help himself. He pumps in and out of you shallowly, desperate for more friction from your heavenly pussy without going too deep too fast.

“Ah!” you gasp as he penetrates your needy hole, the ridges around his mushroom tip stimulating your nerves in a way that makes your thighs quiver.

You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him deeper. Hinata is more than happy to oblige, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he sinks his cock further inside you. You grip the hard muscles of his shoulders, feeling him reach the sensitive spot inside you.

When you open your eyes, you see Hinata watching your face intently, a notch between his brows. His eyes have done dark, that same intense look in his face when he’s locked onto something. Or someone.

Hinata’s cock slides back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and you know it’s pushing you close to the edge.

“T-there, Sho…” you whimper. “Right there, fuck-!”

Your voice is so sweet, so high with lust and need. Hinata picks up his speed, fucking you so hard the door rattles behind you. You didn’t know he had this in him, this feral side, but you’re more than happy to be on the other end of it. Your cunt is drooling over his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck you as hard as he wants.

“Sho, I’m… I’m gonna…”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, your toes curling as he brings you to orgasm.

Your plush, slick walls massage his cock, quivering around him as you cum. Hinata’s stroked himself to the thought of you before - many times - but nothing comes close to this. His fist can’t compare to the way you milk his cock, so hot and tight. But it’s your face that Hinata can’t stop watching.

The way your lips part, your features contorting in pleasure, your eyes glazed over with lust. Hinata knew when he left for Brazil that he loved you. He didn’t think he could fall any further. Until now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, his cock throbbing, knowing he’s close. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Even as he cums, Hinata can’t stop fucking you. He unleashes thick ropes of cum inside you, still pumping in and out, a flurry of curses falling from his lips. The mix of your fluids is indescribable, the noise of your sloppy cunt only spurring him on. He keeps going until he can’t cum anymore, until it’s almost painful. Only then does he pull out, a flood of his cum following, running down your thigh.

“Holy shit,” Hinata gasps, releasing his grip on you so you can stand.

When your legs quake, he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you up.

“Fuck, Sho…” you huff out laughter.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, running a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

Hinata glances down at where your dress is stained with his cum and winces.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me clean you up. Where’s the bathroom? I’ll run you a bath.”

“Slow down,” you laugh. “Let me look at you a second, okay?”

You reach up to cup his face and he rests his hand on yours, turning to kiss your palm, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Let’s make up for lost time, hm?” you say with a smile and Hinata looks at you like you’re made of sunshine.

masterlist

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[honey-tongued-devil]

↞[arcane preference] founding out you were injured in crossfire↠

Since I've created a Bluesky profile and wrote my thesis on Arcane, I'll be posting both old and new drawings there as soon as the time comes. I'm taking advantage of this little space to promote my other social account. honey-tongued.bsky.social Also, I've received both comments and requests, but Tumblr decided I couldn’t post for a week (my internet connection is terrible). I want to let you know that I appreciate them, and I'll get to everything as soon as I can. So, feel free to leave comments, feedback, or requests!

Jayce: 

- This is the worst news he could receive: he's a scholar, he has no idea how to handle these situations, and, most of all, he's forced to confront his pride.  

- Not only was he unable to protect you now, but what if it happens again? Even if he's there, he wouldn't know what to do.  

- What if there's a next time? What if it doesn't turn out as well next time?  

- His self-sabotage leads him to distance himself from you for a few days, not because he doesn't want to be near you while you're hurting, but because he's ashamed of not being able to protect the person he loves.  

- On the bright side, for even just a second, he remembers the original purpose of his research: making the city safe, helping people.  

- But on the negative side, with no one to blame, more than ever, the people of Zaun appear to him as beasts, second-class humans who can't be redeemed in any way.  

- When he finally gathers the courage to see you again, he tries to make amends for everything: for not protecting you, for not being able to, for allowing someone to hurt you, and for not being there during your recovery.  

- He'll literally do anything to be forgiven: every morning you'll find breakfast in bed, if it's cold at night he'll prepare a warmer for your feet, and despite his squeamishness, he'll personally tend to your wounds, even if it makes him feel queasy.

Viktor:

- He tries to help you in every way possible, even ignoring his own pain.  

- He feels sadness, regrets that you went out alone and ended up in such a situation. He can't help but imagine the fear you must have felt, the confusion, and the loneliness when the guards intervened, and you woke up alone in the hospital.  

- He may be a scholar, but first and foremost he's a man with a moral code, and secondly, he's from Zaun: if he has any work, appointments, or lectures, he'll skip them all, maybe muttering a few insults in his thick accent at the most insistent people, and make up for it at night.  

- Plans, ideas, codes, anything – but he won't leave you alone unless you ask him to.  

- He takes care of you meticulously, respecting schedules, bringing you meals in bed, changing your bandages until your skin heals, and you're able to stand on your own again.  

- He doesn't mind helping you – as a chronically ill person who refuses others' help, he's learned to do everything on his own, and he's almost happy that his skills can be useful to someone else.

Ekko:

- Is it something totally normal in the lanes? Yes.  

- Does this stop Ekko from panicking? No.  

- He's the one who finds you and brings you to the others, but he doesn't want, nor can he afford, to be seen panicking. So, he swallows his despair and tries to act as normal as possible while ten other people rush to help you.  

- His face remains expressionless as the most skilled remove debris, clean the wound, stitch your torn flesh, and bandage you, but his foot keeps tapping the floor with force and speed, revealing his anxiety.  

- When the others insist that it's best you stay in the makeshift infirmary, he tries not to protest, but suddenly every moment of the day becomes an excuse to pass by: to bring you stolen sweets from Piltover, to tell you about some expedition, maybe even steal a kiss or fall asleep leaning against your mattress.  

- It's an overwhelming fear, but the fear of losing you makes him unable to think rationally, and all he feels is how much he misses you, even while you're right there with him.

Vander:

- A crossfire from the other side of the river was already a big enough provocation to alert him and prepare to defend the city or, if absolutely necessary, to strike back.  

- But you, as an accidental victim, are a huge problem.  

- He doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, and when he does, he can’t help but feel frustrated, angry at himself, knowing he hasn’t been able to keep his city under control like he promised—to you, to Piltover, to everyone.  

- He’ll ask for your forgiveness by kissing the scarred skin every day, even if you insist it’s not his fault, and if you remember even one of the faces, he’ll go and handle the problem.  

- Not with violence, unless necessary, but it’s not about personal justice; rather, it’s about protecting the other citizens of the alleys too.  

- Even after you’ve healed, he’ll insist it’s absolutely necessary to carry you everywhere you need to go, claiming a very good doctor told him so.  

- And the memory of the scar will be tiny compared to all the marks Vander has left on you.  

Silco:

- Private justice is absolutely the first option, even though you were an accidental victim.  

- He’ll call all his goons and associates for a meeting while you’re still bedridden, to see if they’ve heard, seen, or been involved in any armed conflict, and if he doesn’t get a face or a name from them, he’ll turn to the brothel, the house of all information,  

- Until he finds who hurt you and makes sure they can’t do it again.  

- Silco isn’t fazed by blood or open wounds, but despite having enough experience to handle it himself, at least on the first day, he’ll take you to Singed to make sure you’re in the best condition.  

- In the following days, he’ll take care of you himself, but he has pride, a façade, and little emotional communication skills, so he won’t openly show how worried he is, relying entirely on the fact that you don’t know about the murder of your assailant and remember nothing of the visit to Singed.  

- But the only reason you heal so well and so quickly is that, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, all the love he feels is poured into the care he gives you.  

Jinx:

- Flashbacks. So many. Too many.  

- At some point, she’ll even convince herself that she’s the one who shot you, leading to a complete breakdown.  

- She punches her head, scratches herself without realizing it, her nose bleeds, and her eyes are bloodshot.  

- It takes her a while to convince herself that she wasn’t the one who shot you, even though the hallucinations overlap images of you with memories of her armed, creating waking nightmares that feel increasingly real.  

- As much as she’d like to ask her father for help, even just to give you a cleaner room, she feels responsible and is too scared that if she stays away from you, you’ll forget her. That’s why she sets up a little space for you and takes care of you herself, though not always painlessly.  

- She’s pulled bullets out of her own body more times than not after missions; what might seem like dangerous, delicate work to someone else is almost routine for her by now.  

- Once she has a suspicion of who might have done it, she’ll make sure they learn their lesson. 

 

Vi:

- Anger.  

- Why were you out alone? Why didn’t you leave as soon as you saw the crowd getting too big? Why were you in that area?  

- But her anger is just panic pouring out like a flood, the fear of not being able to protect the one she loves twists her stomach, making her feel like she might throw up, like she’s dying inside.  

- None of those questions mean she blames you, but she doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or even what to do.  

- She’ll do everything to help you—bandaging you, cleaning your wounds, staying silent and giving her full attention to make up for not being there when you needed her, even though that’s not true.  

- And when the scar forms, she’ll kiss it every single day, every single night, like a little ritual between the two of you.  

Caitlyn:

- Safety first.  

- She’ll be the one to assess how bad the injury is, and if there are any foreign objects in your body, there’s a good chance she’ll try to handle it herself, even though at first it might seem a bit barbaric.  

- She’ll give you the guest room and call the family doctor to make sure you’re okay, that you don’t need anything else, and she’ll take care of what’s necessary, even teasing you a bit to hide her worry.  

- "A bullet in the leg from being caught in crossfire? Very vintage, I must say."  

- What you won’t know is that she’ll quietly increase security, not in an oppressive way, but just enough to make both you and the other citizens feel safer.  

- Her family won’t get involved directly, but they won’t stop her either. Sometimes Cassandra herself will make sure her daughter finds the tray to bring up to you, though she’ll never be too open about it.  

- The perfect rehabilitation? Long walks in the villa’s garden, so you can stop for some cookies or tea when you get tired.  

Mel:

- Flashbacks, but less personal than Jinx’s.  

- Her mother would call her weak if she knew how it kills her to see someone barely scratched by crossfire, and that realization soon turns into frustration, which then becomes anger.  

- She tries to stay calm, but her voice sounds like she’s scolding you, and then like she’s scolding the servants, or anyone else who crosses her path.  

- Two hours of lecture if you’re lucky—why you shouldn’t go out without a guard, why you shouldn’t put yourself in dangerous situations, why the enforcers are utterly useless and can’t find anyone responsible, even though the fight was so intense.  

- She’ll focus entirely on the bureaucratic side because little Mel was never taught how to deal with strong emotions, and she’s definitely feeling them now but can’t afford that vulnerability, even though she knows you’re safe.  

- She won’t take care of you herself, but she’ll always stay in the room. Not because she doesn’t want to, to be clear, but because she wants you to have the best care possible and prefers to leave it to a top professional rather than her inexperienced hands.  

- In return, she’ll triple the amount of affection and caresses—more to calm herself than you, but you won’t be the one to complain.  

Sevika:

- She needs a moment.  

- She knows she has to report to Silco that there was a firefight, that someone is threatening the people, but part of her just wants to grab those responsible and crush their heads with her bare hands, doing both you and her boss a favor. Yet, another part of her doesn’t want to leave you alone or take you with her.  

- She knows how to handle these things; she’s lost an arm, and Silco’s goons often come back in worse shape, which is why she’ll take care of you herself, in complete silence.  

- She’ll wait until you’re asleep to place a water bottle, a glass, some painkillers, and some bread on the nightstand next to your bed. And when she’s sure you’re fully asleep, she’ll leave a soft kiss on your forehead before putting on her cloak and heading out to the Last Drop.  

- There, she’ll release her anger in a brawl or two, talk to her boss, and search for the reason why she feels so awful at the bottom of her third glass of whiskey.