#his back ones apparently keep giving out under him

[kinardsevan]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

listen. i'm still so convinced it's Tommy up on that crane in 807 that my brain keeps writing scenes 😂😂😂😂 so have this:

"Buck, you need to-"

He can't hear Bobby's words as he races up the ladder, panic rising faster and faster in his chest.

"Hey no no no no no!" He yells, throwing himself over the side. His hands grasp tight around Tommy's. "Stop stop stop! Please!" The words are coming out of him in sobs, but large hands grip around his wrists and a moment later, the older man tilts his head up and his eyes lock with Evan's.

"Ev-..." He cuts himself off, his voice wobbly and raspy from his current predicament.

"Just stop," Evan replies, snuffling as tears run down his face. "Stop moving, stop- just stop."

"Ok," Tommy replies, his voice weary as his fingers tighten around Evan's wrists that much more. The blonde glances up toward Chimney on the opposite crane. He's still working to get the harness unstuck, but apparently only having mild success with it.

"My legs are numb," Tommy states, blinking slowly. Chim looks up at them.

"Fuck this. I'm going to cut him down. The 217 can get the line fixed," Chimney states before heading back down the ladder in quick succession. "I need bolt cutters!"

"Evan," Tommy rasps. His hands are sweaty now, hanging onto the other man's arms.

"No," Evan replies, his voice tinged with anger now. "You have to hang on."

"You have to let go," Tommy counters to him, his voice exhausted. "Evan-" His grip slips on Evan's arm, and beneath them there's scrambling to get the inflatable placed properly. He glances over at the other crane as Chimney finishes reascending it.

"I can't," Evan replies, his own voice strained as he grips onto Tommy's arm with both hands now. "Fuck, Tommy, I can't."

"Why not," he asks wearily.

"Because!" Evan yells at him. Several tears fall off his face in quick succession, one landing on Tommy's own face as it continues its descent downward.

Somehow, even from beneath him, even with most of his blood volume hanging out in the lower half of his body with no way to make it circulate properly, Tommy manages to give him that look, the one that says he's really paying attention.

"Evan." He says it like it's Evan who needs to be talked off the ledge, like he's the one hanging in the middle of the air being held up by a crane.

"You don't get to give up now," Evan growls at him. "You already did that to me once this week."

"Are we really talking about this now," Tommy asks him. His fingers slip a few millimeters, but Evan curls his hand tight under Tommy's elbow, trying to pull him up.

"Seems as good a time as any," he replies. A humorless laugh slips out of him.

"I've almost got it," Chimney calls from the other crane.

Evan gulps. "It was too much, too fast," he states. "Asking you to move in. I s-said things that made it sound like I wasn't invested-.."

"It's fine," Tommy replies, sounding mildly exasperated.

"No its not," Evan argues, squeezing tighter on Tommy's arm. "it's not. Because it made me sound like I was asking you to move in because it's the easy option, like I wanted you to stay without any consideration of what your life looks like outside of what we are. Or were."

Tommy stares up at him, still blinking slow and long. Evan pulls his arm up inches higher, trying to take more of the weight off of his lower body.

"But it's not that," he says, sniffling again. "I lept before thinking, a-and made it into a thing that it wasn't and has never been." He sniffles again. "I didn't ask you to move in because I wanted to be impulsive. I said it because I want a life with you, a-and I was afraid to own that and what that means for me." He pauses and gulps, lets out a breath. "I was so pissed at you for breaking up with me, a-and you were doing the same thing I did. You were protecting yourself." Tommy stares up at him, eyebrows quirked slightly in confusion.

"I thought if I didn't say it, it was safer, that we-..." He shakes his head at himself as he feels the tension pulling Tommy back toward Chimney starting to wane as the bolt cutters work through the metal. "But I also want the whole damn thing with you. I'm not in it because it's easy, or because you were the first man to kiss me. I'm in it because I'm in love with you."

Tommy stares up at him still, giving him that damn look again, and the slack goes looser, his weight becoming even heavier on Evan's arms.

"I love you," he repeats. "I love you so damn much."

Tommy grants him a weary smile. "I love you too, Evan."

His weight falls entirely on Evan then, and both of their arms jerk out straight, Evan leaned roughly over the crane as he tries to keep holding on.

"Evan, let go," Tommy tells him.

"Please," Evan begs him, and he's not even entirely sure what it is he's begging for. "Tommy-.."

"I love you too," he repeats. "But you have to let go."

Evan gulps, forces a breath in, forces his tunnel vision to open up, and realizes the inflatable is ready and will catch Tommy. "I'll meet you at the bottom."

"Sounds good," Tommy rasps. And then, against everything that tells him he should, Evan lets go, watching as Tommy drops the 30 feet onto the inflatable crash pad. As soon as his body hits, Evan is already double-timing his way down the ladder. He makes it down in what he's sure is record time, running past everyone else to get to Tommy's side. Hen already has him on a stretcher, attached to a dozen leads and assessing his legs.

"Risk of compartment syndrome," she states. "Likely dislocation of the left hip. He needs x-rays and we need to go."

"I'm going with," Evan announces, refusing to hear reason to any other option. His hand is tight in Tommy's as soon as he's next to him, his other hand combing down the other man's hair as he stares down into those blue eyes. They're already brighter from his circulation picking back up. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Good lord just kiss the man already," Gerrard calls from the back of the crowd. Evan whips his head around and Tommy leans up off he gurney, both of them giving the old grump a shocked expression.

"What?" He asks. He has that grumpy look on his face once more, like he still thinks that their lifestyle is beneath him (at the very least). "We all know it's what you're thinking. I just said it."

Evan turns back toward Tommy, and the blue eyes meet.

"My boyfriend's sister once said there better ways to get someone's attention than this," Tommy says. Evan lets out a laugh, color flushing through his cheeks at the dignification of boyfriend. He curls two fingers under Tommy's chin and kisses him, both of them ignorant of the whooping and hollering happening around them.

"Like that," he whispers when they finally part, pressing his forehead into Tommy's. Tommy has a hand fisted around Evan's shirt, keeping him close.

"Yeah, that works," he whispers back. "I love you, too, Evan. I love you, too."

[atalldrinkofcaprisun]

Don’t Wait For Me After I’m Gone (pt. 2)

silco x gn!reader - he didn’t die AU - tw: canon compliant violence, drug use - 18+

howdy!!! reposted and edited again! I’m having trouble with all of the links so sorry they’re not super functional right now. But anyways, I MISS MY WIFE TAILS!!

also on ao3 xx masterlist

The screaming was the worst part. You had been posted outside of The Doctor’s underground laboratory/cave for three hours now, under the orders not to enter unless you wanted to be sedated until the procedure was over.

When the Scientist arrived at the factory, he had started work immediately. The bullets nimbly extracted and quickly stitched, his hand feebly squeezing your own when he could. You had pressed kisses to his damp temples and pushed hair out of his face, back into his rumpled style. He’d even notice sometimes but it was clear he was in agony.

“It is good you kept that with you,” The Doctor nodded his head towards the injector lying cracked on the floor towards the far wall. You had thrown it off as soon as it had emptied, “He would have been unreachable if you had not administered the medicinal serum. It gave him just enough to hold on.”

“So, he’s going to be okay?” You asked, trying to give that little flame of hope in your chest something to fuel itself.

“He will survive, yes. Survival at least.” the bandaged man replied cryptically before returning his full attention to Silco, “I suggest making plans to move him to safety. Your opponents will be hunting for you soon if they haven’t started already.” He’d put a hand on your shoulder, “I know where they will not find you.”

Shortly afterwards, you had sprinted all the way back to The Last Drop. Exhausted and shaking, you’d only managed a stammering, “Silco. He’s- the warehouse…” before promptly passing out into Ran’s arms. You’d woken up in your bed, apparently you had only been out about 20 minutes.

Now, here you stood, arms crossed and leaning against a rough stone wall. Your nails dug into your skin, trying to center yourself. You couldn’t leave, not when he was in pain. Jinx had been permitted in. Whatever had transpired between Jinx and The Doctor had created a new trust. You had wanted to protest but when Jinx set Silco down on the examination table and sat quietly in a chair in the corner, her eyes not moving from Silco, you had surrendered. Jinx needed to know her father wasn’t going to be one more thing to haunt her. You could keep watch this time.

Sevika was elsewhere getting her arm fixed once again, and keeping all of the intelligence open for signs of what had been happening in Piltover. She’d headed back to The Drop. Running Zaun directly or alone had never been something you wanted. Especially now, with the love of your life still in danger of being lost forever, and your child being the cause on top of whatever had been done to her-

There came another string of rambles, ranging from terror to agony to anger. Occasionally you would hear The Doctor muttering. You could feel the wave of emotions settle between your shoulders, winding up the muscles like snakes tensing to bite. You needed a distraction.

Threats were going to be coming from all sides. Jinx had officially crossed the carefully toed line of impertinent interference that Silco had perfected. You didn’t know what the aftermath of the missile had been, and it didn’t take a genius to guess. A part of you didn’t care. Fuck the Topsiders for needing to be brought to the battlefield. Still, you couldn’t ignore the stiffness setting in your arms and neck, your hands clenched into fists as tears began to resurface.

Another moan of pain, this one low and mournful… your name again. You covered your ears and tried to fight the urge to bust through the door.

Fuck it. You’d rather be sedated then hear one more second of this without being able to help. Hands flew to the door handle of their own accord, but were met with the empty air as the door opened first.

Jinx’s pink eyes bore into your own, flat, “Doc say you can come in. Apparently he’s though the worst. Dad’ll- be okay.” She sounded completely drained.

You gathered Jinx in a tight hug, wanting to offer any sort of comfort you could, “He’s going to understand. We’ve been so worried about you, Blue.”

“I killed him.” She mumbled into your shoulder, “I almost-”

“But you didn’t,” you pulled back to look in her eyes, your hands pushing her bangs off of her forehead to finally get a good look. She was so pale now, worse than before, almost spectral. Her freckles and dark makeup only making her appear more sickly, she was smeared with dirt and blood and crusted tears. Her eyes weren’t glowing anymore, but their pale blue had been consumed by the eery magenta of Shimmer. “He knows how much you’re struggling. He isn’t dead. It was an accident. He knows that.”

Jinx didn’t look convinced, only lifting your arms off of her and pushing past into the fissures beyond, “I just need to be alone.“ She turned before she crossed behind the faint lantern glow, “You know where to find me,” and then she was gone.

You waited, letting the compulsion to run after her and comfort her dissolve for a later time. If anything would be able to get through to Jinx it would be Silco himself. In order for him to get the chance, however, you needed to make sure Silco would stay alive. Jinx was smart, and knew when and how to lay low. She would be alright for a few hours. With a deep breath and you headed into the attached cavern.

“Doctor, Is he-“ your gaze mimed fixated on the disheveled and miserable man strapped to the gurney. At the sound of your voice Silco’s eyes landed on you, relief washing over his expression the moment he processed what he was seeing. “Thank Jannah, Sil,” you sighed, stepping and crossing the space. Your hand fell into his, fitting perfectly into his palm, warm and alive and responsive. With a smile you took your free hand and pushed the strands of charcoal and ash hair out of his face, “Hey there, handsome.” You beamed.

The once bright orange iris, now matching his daughter’s pink hue, was scanning along your features, relief washing over the face you had come to love more than you had ever thought possible. His pale blue eye was just as intently looking at you, but his eyelid hung heavy with exhaustion, “What’s a creature like you,” his voice was strained and low, rumbling out of his chest more than his throat, “doing in a place like this?”

Your mind played the first time he had said that to you as you grinned, “That line is still too cheesy to work.”

“Better than the look you gave me when I said it then.” He hummed as your hand moved from his hair to brush his cheek, “Did I ever tell you it was Jinx’s idea?”

“To try and hit on me after saving my life or?” You laughed lightly.

“To tell you,” he wheezed for a second as a flare of purple raced up his skin and into his damaged iris, “ah, how pretty you looked.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and the pain seemed to become just a little less.

“So you settled on calling me a creature?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Is now the time for such, frivolous things?” The Doctor’s tone was annoyed as he cut in. He started undoing the straps holding Silco down, and he motioned for you to help him.

You looked at the scientist with one brow raised as Silco sighed, “I’ve nearly died today. It makes a man think about things… differently,” his gaze didn’t move from your face, like he was studying it for the first time. You were used to his staring habit, but this felt different. Maybe it was the drugs, “so beautiful,” he muttered so low, he probably hadn’t even noticed he’d said it.

“Shut up, old man,” you smiled, “Save your breath.”

The Doctor moved to your side of the table, batting you away as he began to unstrap his arm and head. Which was only fair since you hadn’t even started to undo the buckle. Your hand slipped away from Silco’s and you immediately missed the feeling. The anxiety that boiled in your stomach was vicious and your skin seemed to itch with the need to continue to make sure Silco was truly alive and real, on the mend and going to survive. Once the kingpin was free, the Doctor took his pulse, then gently helped him rise to a sitting position. His face contorted with the pain but eased as he breathed through it. At last, Doc looked towards you and nodded, giving his permission, you could fully take in your paramour.

Silco’s left arm was protectively hugged around his bandage wrapped torso, his smoldering eye still pulsing pink as was it’s seafoam counterpart. His hair was haphazard and his makeup smeared away long ago, the ashen skin of his scar visible in large smudges. You wrapped your arms around him as gently as you could manage, still causing him to hiss ever so slightly. His heartbeat thumped away under your ear, protected in his rib cage, fast and a little irregular. His smell was tainted with blood and sweat but it was still him. His free arm pulled you closer, his nose resting on top of your head. Together you breathed. Just for a moment that to you, felt like the exact eternity you needed to find your voice.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

He chuckled deep in his chest, “I promise to try and not make it a habit, my lovely.”

You only burrowed further into his arms in reply. Your home was here. Safely by Silco’s side, in his arms, breathing and basking in the gift of having more time. Just as the tension had begun to ease from your shoulders Silco spoke again, “Where is Jinx? Is she alright?”

You met his gaze, “She’s… upset. She didn’t mean to kill you. I think she’s headed back to her lab. I wanted to go with her but…”

“But you needed to make sure I would be alright first.” He gently finished and ran a hand through your hair, “Thank you for saving me. Now we’re officially even.” He let his fingertips stroke your cheek, “We need to get to Jinx. I need to tell her I forgive her.”

“You won’t be able to walk on your own yet, old friend.” The Doctor spoke up again from his desk across the room, apparently he had returned to his more important projects, “Your body is still processing the serum. You don’t have your daughter’s vitality.”

Silco frowned over at the old scientist, “I think I can manage. And anyways,” he looked down at you, “I won’t be alone.”

You nodded, and stepped out of his embrace to help him down and onto his feet. As he touched the stone floor however, his legs seemed to buckle and he fell onto you heavily with a grunt of pain. You caught him and let him get his grip on the edge of the gurney. His teeth grinding as he pulled himself upwards, “Sil? Are you-?”

“It’s fine.” The ever stubborn Eye of Zaun commanded. The Doctor and you shared a quick look.

You knew he was lying but he had more pressing concerns than his own comfort at the moment, “Can you?” he gestured vaguely around himself. Asking for help was still not something he was completely comfortable with, but you knew what he meant.

You shifted around him, so one of your arms was around his midsection, the other was holding his hand as his own arm swept over your shoulders. Jinx’s Lab and The Last Drop were a bit of a walk away. The Doctor, grumbling all the while, retrieved a cane from some depths of his caverns and gave you what doses Silco might need if he took a sudden turn. With measured steps you began to lead Silco to the door. Just before you crossed the threshold, Silco tugged and stopped, “Thank you, Doctor. My family owes you a great debt.”

A stiff and matter of fact “I know.” was the only reply he received.

Silco pressed a kiss to your temple and together you set off.

[sandwitchstories]

Hello, Hello! This little scene of Mouse and her Papa has been bouncing around in my head for a few days now, so I had to get it out of my system!

For more adventures in Mouse's Mini-Verse, check out my Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! )

If you prefer to read on AO3 click here !

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.

Summary: Sukuna and Mouse take a trip to the market.

WC: 600+

CW: toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, SFW in every way, just family fluff, father and daughter fluff, I love them together

Sukuna was simmering. If he didn’t love you the way he did and tolerate Uraume the way he did you both would have been scattered about in pieces. He was the King of Curses and Deadly Poisons. The strongest sorcerer alive. Tall, 4 arms, muscular and a master of hand to hand combat. 

Yet the two of you didn’t think he could handle a single trip to the market with Mouse by himself. It infuriated him. She was a 2 year old. It was not that hard…

“Papa okay?” Mouse asked as she walked next to him, sensing his mood.

“I’m fine.”

He paused as Mouse ran to the side, picking a weed and bringing it back to show him and find out the name of it. About the 6th time she did it, he picked her up and put her on his shoulders, tired of answering questions. She loved the view from up there and he could keep moving at a decent speed. 

But at the market… no no, she HAD to be on the ground, she would accept no less. She knew better than to scream and cry, so instead she made multiple attempts at physically escaping her father’s grasp before he set her down in sheer annoyance. They were still a short way from the market but they were going to have a talk.

He held onto the back of her outfit so she couldn’t get away as he knelt down. “Mouse, listen to me.”

“Okay, Papa,” she said, moving to hold his face and pull it down so they could touch their foreheads together. “I listening.”

“Good. When we get into the market you are to stay by my side. No matter what, you stay by my side. Am I understood?”

“Okay, Papa. I understand!” she smiled and gave him a kiss on the nose. “I stay by Papa.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, ruffling her hair before standing to his full height. “Lets go.”

When they got to the market Mouse’s eyes got huge and he could swear he saw drool drip from her lips. And then… she apparently decided their entire conversation just moments before had never happened. She set to zigging and zagging through the stands of foods, smelling and looking at everything she could see. 

He couldn’t find it in him to be mad. She was pretty damn cute when she came back to him, jumping up and down telling him about all the foods she saw. And then she got him.

“Papa. We try together?” she wrapped herself around his leg and looked up at him with a big smile. “Food tastes best with Papa.”

He smirked and picked her up in one arm, giving her a little chuck under the chin. “Food tastes best with you too, Mouse. I hope you brought your appetite with you. There’s lots of food to try.”

“I big hungry. Let's go!” she pumped a fist into the air.

“That’s my girl!”

_________________________

It was late afternoon when the two returned home from the market with absolutely nothing you asked them to get, stomach aches from eating too much and both needing a nap after dealing with the general public. You sighed, hands on your hips and shaking your head as you saw the two of them curled up in bed sound asleep. Like father, like daughter.

A small pouch on the nightstand caught your attention. You walked over and picked it up. On top was a note written in Sukuna’s beautiful handwriting. (The man took pride in every single thing he did down to his handwriting. It was impeccable.)

Y/N- As if I would forget about you. - Me

“Such a sap,” you smiled at the bed, feeling butterflies in your stomach. Sukuna was many things. And among them were being a good father, and a wonderful husband. He was a prickly pain in the ass, but gods did you love him. You just… wished he had gotten the items on the damn list…

[fickleminder]

the matchmaker

Happy birthday Barney woooooo 💜

- You’re a matchmaker who works mostly with nobles, seeing as they’re the ones still rooted in traditions and such. Personally you believe in marrying for love, but this pays the bills so…

- You’re damn good at your job too. You know how to read your clients; you can suss out what kind of demons they really are underneath whatever front they put on for you. You can tell which personality traits are likely to work well together, and if you’ve had a hand in helping lesser demons from bad families escape to safer and more comfortable lives, they would never tell.

- One day this little demon no more than several centuries old walks into your office asking for a marriage partner.

- “Not for me, for my big brother!” He clarifies while you’re mentally cursing the noble families who still follow child bride practices.

- Said big brother barges in not two seconds later apologizing for his rudeness and trying unsuccessfully to stop his sibling from spilling his entire life story.

- You recognize Mephistopheles immediately. Not only is his family well-known in your network, but you’ve done business with many of his associates and one of his underlings had interviewed you for an article before.

- Apparently he’s under pressure from his family to marry, despite not being open to the idea at this time. You know how messy noble politics can be, so you don’t pry and instead get him started on the process. At the very least, you can match him with someone he won’t completely detest. Best case scenario, he finds an accomplice to fake a relationship with.

- (After a preliminary screening, it seems like Mephisto’s ideal partner is Lord Diavolo himself, but rumor has it he’s already infatuated with one of his students, so he’s off the table. Not that you’d go anywhere near the prince, especially with that butler of his constantly by his side.)

- You soon discover that Mephisto is one tough customer. He finds fault in every single match you send his way, even when you suggest that he pick someone just for show. He insists that even a fake partner has to check all his boxes, but you suspect he’s being overly selective on purpose to delay any potential marriages.

- But he’s never rude about it either. His matches tell you about how he’s always the perfect gentlemen on their dates, how he’s polite even when turning them down at the end of the day. He’s essentially wasting everybody’s time, going through the process for the sake of it while trying to change his family’s mind, but he’s still paying you for your efforts despite everything, so you continue to do your job.

- You tweak Mephisto’s matches with every feedback he gives you, and you start to wonder if there’s anyone he’d be willing take a chance on, even if it’s to play pretend and get his family off his back.

- His little brother tries to help out. The little demon often visits you behind Mephisto’s back, telling you stories and sharing every tidbit of information he can think of to better help you help his brother find happiness. He doesn’t quite understand why Mephisto doesn’t want a partner (he’s used to fairytales with happily ever afters), but he’s determined to make sure his older brother gets his happy ending too.

- One day one of your old clients visits you out of the blue, looking much healthier than when you first found her taking shelter in your office building. She warns you that there’s been unsavory characters loitering in the area recently. She recognizes some of them from her old circles and warns you to be careful.

- You’re no stranger to this. There’s a reason nobles have entourages of bodyguards with them wherever they go, and working so closely with them has put more than one target on your back over the centuries. You always make sure to keep magical wards in the area to warn you when demons with malicious intent have entered the premises, and stash a few teleportation talismans for a quick getaway if needed.

- It’s during one of the days Mephisto’s brother drops by to chat with you that your wards go off. You don’t hesitate to grab the little demon before activating your talismans, teleporting both of you to safety. You don’t reappear in front of your house, no; you don’t know if your own home has been compromised, so you told the frightened demon in your arms to picture the safest place he could think of—

- You land in a puddle of mud in the middle of a nondescript field, barely managing to catch him before he gets all dirtied as well. There’s a stable nearby, and the guards stationed there immediately notice your arrival and surround the two of you.

- Things happen quickly after that. Mephisto’s brother vouches for you even as he’s crying for his sibling, and after verifying your identity and giving a brief rundown of what happened, the two of you are escorted to the family manor.

- Mephisto finds you within the hour, throwing decorum out the window and bursting through the main doors to rush to you and his brother. Poor kid wouldn’t let go of him for the longest time, while you stand quietly in one corner to let them have their moment, not wanting to track mud over the pristine marble floor more than you already have.

- “You kept him safe…” Mephisto acknowledges you with an indescribable look in his eyes and, to your surprise, grabs you in a hug as well, muddied clothes be damned. “Thank you.”

- He promises to personally fund and oversee the repairs, your office having been thoroughly thrashed by the attempted kidnappers when they had trespassed in search of his brother. They’d been stalking him for weeks and knew he often snuck away from his bodyguards to see you, and they thought it’d be a golden opportunity to ransom him for a hefty amount of Grimm.

- Mephisto also prepares a security detail for you, despite you insisting you’re not high profile enough to warrant one. He decides that so long as you’ll be working closely with his family, he’ll make sure you’re protected too.

- Business goes on as usual after that. Mephisto still meets with you to go through his matches, still turns everyone down at the end of the day, but somehow you get the feeling he’s already made up his mind. Sometimes he doesn’t even look at the documents you give him before rejecting the candidate, which kind of annoys you given how much work you’d put in—

- And then his brother tells you that their parents already backed off the marriage idea weeks ago. Whatever phase they were in had passed, and now they were focused on the next big thing in noble society.

- …Oh. Well then.

- The next time Mephisto meets you in your office, you bring up the subject of payment for your services. He confirms that your fee is scheduled to be deposited into your account at the end of the month as usual, but you suggest he takes you out for dinner instead.

- Mephisto pulls at his tie and looks away, only mumbling something about picking you up at 6 before marching out of your office with steam coming out of his ears.

[glade-constellation]

I was scrolling through TikTok and came across this audio that really just, put all the puzzle pieces together for how Nexus really felt. Imagine Sun is the one speaking. Sun never said this, he never would say this to Nexus back when he was “Moon”, but this is how Nexus interpreted it.

Nexus woke up with no identity. Not a single clue of who he was, what he was meant to be, or what he could become. But there’s someone there that’s telling him who he should be, and no one is arguing it, so that just must be how it goes. He never even tries to start figuring out who he is, he goes straight into being who someone else wants him to be. He was Moon. That was his name.

But then they start telling him all the wrongs he did. No one was telling him he needed to take the blame, but to him it was clear they wanted him to. Because he was Moon. And Moon had done those things, even if he didn’t. He had no memory of doing them, but he was Moon so he had to have made those mistakes. They were his problems, and he had to fix them.

So he does. He stops Eclipse. He tries to fix what he can with Sun, and be there for his brother. He desperately tries to keep Lunar safe even if Lunar was not happy with him afterwards. But that’s just it. He’s doing all these things and it feels like he’s getting nothing back. No one seems to acknowledge what he’s putting in, and when they do recognize it they give him shit for it. He keeps trying and keeps seeming to fail.

Then, he has a chance to talk to himself. The person that is actually Moon, the one who actually made all those mistakes. The one whose entire identity was forced upon Nexus. There is no thank you. There is no heartfelt conversation. There is nothing but mildly curious indifference and once again being forced to into an identity that wasn’t truly him. Told to die in it, if it kept the family happy.

Then Solar died. And he was devastated. And he grieved. But apparently, he wasn’t even allowed to grieve as his own self, he had to grieve like Moon too. Had to still be there for others while grieving himself, keep up an act to keep them happy while he was suffering. They weren’t there to comfort him, they were there to comfort Moon, and they weren’t still doing a pretty poor job of that.

That was his breaking point. Never once did he feel like his family cared about him. They cared about Moon. He was so, so tired of the identity forced upon him. From now on, he was going to call the shots in his own life. If he died, he’d die as his own person, and no one else.

Nexus was constantly buried under the weight of being someone he never truly was by his entire family. Earth was the only one who treated him as his own person, and that’s because she only knew him as himself. She had never known Moon, and had no bias to go off of. Lunar, quite obviously at this point, didn’t like him and made a point of showing it. Because he wasn’t the original Moon and Lunar didn’t like that. Sun obviously had years worth of bias. I think that’s why he favored Earth over the others, because she actually cared about him. She didn’t care about what he was supposed to be, she cared about who he was.

There’s a deep complexity to Nexus as a character that I need people to see and understand. People feel like Nexus only started his downward spiral after Solar died, but he has been suffering since day one. He had an entire year’s worth of trauma, both his own and those forced upon him, that lead him to becoming Nexus. Nexus becoming a villain felt like a wildly outrageous “edgy emo teen” phase because, in a way, it was. Nexus had never known who he truly was, because he had never expressed himself outside of the realm that was Moon. He was simultaneously trying to find himself and distance himself as far as he could from Moon. He was trying to become everything that Moon wasn’t so he could escape. His turn to becoming a villain was because, despite Moon having hurt people, Moon had never been a villain in anyone’s eyes.

Becoming Nexus was his way of freedom. He was happier dying the villain than he was living as Moon.

[ff-au]

SSKKKSSSTTT—We interrupt your usual Finding "Frankie" AU fic programming to present this star-crossed lovers Lucky Contestant X Monster Frankie fic titled:

LUCK-STRUCK

WARNINGS: Death, (somewhat) graphic violence, suicide talk/themes, and a good deal of cussing

Summary: Monster Frankie and Lucky are at the end of the line. The audience has grown bored of the same thing every season but neither are ready to say goodbye. With the uncertainty of what will happen, who will live, and what will come after, they take a second to look back on what they had before stepping out and giving the audience one final grand finale before finally understanding what went unspoken. (Author's notes in reblogs)

Slow, long strides were matched with short small steps down the waxed floor of a corridor. The long and spacious hallway was occupied by two different creatures, both of vastly different origins. One was a vicious temperamental killer, this bloodthirsty attitude dwelled within the mascot of the very area they were in, Frankie. Frankie wasn't just any mascot though, although he did represent the place with his imagery plastered just about everywhere, he was also responsible for its closure and current condition. Season after season, he was the sadist responsible for the death of hundreds as he remained undefeated in a twisted game show started by people lusting for money. Countless poor souls tempted by greed stepped inside only to have their dreams crushed by this monstrous rabbit, sometimes it was more than their dreams being crushed. Gutted, squished, decapitated, torn to bits, if you could imagine a gruesome demise there was a good chance Frankie was the one to give it to someone just for the fun of it. Oh god did he have fun with it. He was the star, the namesake of the entire thing with his role being the ruthless monster people tuned in or betted on to end lives. A beast created to kill with not one escaping his springy clutches.

Or at least, he was.

Besides him was the small masked human who was almost a victim to Frankie's bloodlust. Running, jumping, sliding, rail grinding, they did everything in their power to live once they made it to the parkour palace. They had expected to be chased by killer mascots but what they never anticipated was how good it would feel. Although they found themselves winded, scared, with the hairs on their body on edge each time something ran after them, they found it exhilarating. Initially coming for a reason they now looked back on and thought silly, the lucky contestant found something so much better in the twisted show.

It was them living that infuriated Frankie, even looking down at the human they could remember the day the contestant showed up. They were told to wait to kill them and holy fuck was it hard. He had the perfect opportunity to snag them in a vent, he could have so easily shoved their face into the rotating blades of a fan making a fine red mist out of the fragile human. Instead the *other* Frankie gave him specific instructions to keep the contestant alive, to let them go to at least boost ratings a bit before ending them. It was aggravating, it was his show, he shouldn't have had to share it with anyone and he made his opinion quickly apparent by disobeying orders. If that smiley bastard didn't interfere when he wasn't looking he would have succeeded in crushing that pest under his foot too, instead the contestant got by using sheer luck to escape. When that fucking prick showed his face again and tried to help the contestant once more, Frankie was quick to put an end to it. They had reached the end and he—unwillingly—went along with the plan. The contestant was at Hexa-Havoc meaning they werr all his, his to kill, his to rip apart in front of the cameras, it was his right to make them a martyr by displaying their organs across brightly colored hexagons to teach any future contestants what would happen if they dare FUCKED with HIS gameshow!

Instead the reverse happened. He was made a god damn fool in front of over 20,000 people with that audience count only rising each second. Thousands witnessed that costumed weirdo who randomly appeared dash back and forth, dodging him as the timer ticked down. Eventually once the lever lock timer was up the contestant lunged for it, barely any ground to stand on left. From the sky rained the sentient time bombs that were the little noob-noobs and then it was all over. Frankie's life flashed before his eyes, each and every human he killed and the different ways they screamed under their mask embedded into his memory. Their fearful eyes that were once such a delight now mocking him as he descended into a burning inferno that was in the pit of the parkour palace. His transmitted screams rang out from above, the TVs showing the screaming face of a cartoon variant of him as his body began to superheat and melt, and it was all because of that one contestant who had luck on his side. As he watched the contestant get saved from the same fate, them lucky enough to cling onto one of the precariously placed rails above the incinerator, he vowed to not only get his revenge but to take back all that he lost.

And next season, sure enough, he had the chance. It was a surprise to the rabbit but the contestant came back, this time with a whole lot less uncertainty in their actions much to his displeasure. Frankie never did get the chance to enact his revenge, the contestant once more proved to be more than capable of outplaying him. Season after season it repeated, a game with both parties trying to one-up the other and make it so the other would end up losing. Frankie had won for so long that after each loss he felt emotions surface he didn't even know he had, anger, bitterness, hate, it all brewed next to the constant humiliation in front of the audience that once applauded him and screamed his name as he eviscerated all those in his sight. Simultaneously, he also felt something else. Just like the pain he felt upon burning for the first time, the contestant's slowly shifting attitude and actions after the seasons intrigued him as it was all so new. He had plenty of chances to kill the person that proved to be a thorn in his side when off camera, but at the same time he didn't wish to. It was odd but actually trying to win stirred something in him, it was the same feeling the contestant got when being chased. It was a sort of unique thrill they shared with each other, their disdain and hatred slowly changing while the game did too. New obstacles were installed, parts of the parkour palace were renovated, the game was kept fresh with their rivalry enticing people to watch. What started off as a simple game to Frankie and as nothing more than a chance at something else to the contestant became something truly special to the two. Frankie found someone to actually challenge him and the contestant found a new identity as the people's champ. *Lucky* is what they called him, it's what Frankie—both of them—called him. It was something that the contestant embraced and a name Frankie soon found himself thinking about, even when the cameras stopped rolling.

The two came to a halt, both stopping to sit in the dead center of the hallway, neither wanting to go through giant doors with a sign above reading "season finale". No cameras were placed around, just powered off TVs allowing them a small shred of privacy and break. They wouldn't want to be caught dead this close to each other and not in their game of chase, but as it stood neither wished to run. Like the oncoming freeze of winter they both could sense something different in the air, something that neither had a good feeling about. The silence was deafening and both acted out of the norm of their usual circumstances, both predator and prey having a moment of respite.

With a nervous twitch Frankie eventually made the first move, his head turning to look over at a powered off TV mounted on a wall behind him. With less than a thought given he projected his consciousness to it, the much cuter cartoon version of the body he wore manifesting on it drawing Lucky's attention. Unlike the first time they saw the cartoon Frankie on screen, he held no madness in his eyes, instead it was just a somber gaze that shared the sentiment of worry.

["So... This is it huh?"]

Lucky looked downwards, breaking eye contact and nodding "guess so..."

Frankie grimaced, the one on the screen showing emotions whilst his physical body remained in that permanent grin. The silence filled the air once more and it became discomforting, neither wishing to be alone with their thoughts. If there wasn't something to focus on both Frankie and Lucky started to think about what would come next, the thought of after being scarier than the toothy rabbit with a thirst for blood. It was Frankie himself who was scared most by it, quick to speak just to pad time.

["... You think there's a god?"]

Lucky perked up, the question catching them off guard "what?"

["Ya know, god? You believe in one"]

"Uhh... Not really?..." Lucky trailed off and looked at the TV screen, Frankie seemingly wishing for a genuine response which prompted him to continue "I mean... Maybe? I can't say there's definitely not a god but there's no also no proof saying there is...why do you ask?"

["Ehh, I dunno"] Frankie shrugged, his physical body mirroring his movements on screen ["just a thought I suppose, as an AI I really don't think I should have a say on whether a god or not exists, but I know you humans pray to them and I've heard a whole lotta prayers while I–" he made a ripping gesture with his hands ["–ya know?"]

"mmm... Yeah, I hear you" Lucky fiddled with the costume they wore, the fabric sticking to their sweat laced skin underneath "I gotta wonder, do... Do you, uhh... Ever feel bad or anything?" He paused, unsure how to word it without sounding harsh or antagonistic "ya know...for the people you kill?"

["No... Well–not exactly? I mean, I certainly don't feel bad, I just wonder why they risked their lives in the first place?”] Frankie rubbed his chin, the sound his metal finger made making Lucky grimace under the mask ["It just doesn't make"]

"What doesn't make sense?"

["well if the people I kill risk their lives for a measly 5 million then come ooonnn~! They either gotta be a crook, stupid, or suicidal!"] Frankie counted on his fingers each adjective before he rolled his eyes ["I don't care about you humans that much but even I am smart enough to know 5 million dollars isn't going make the average person think they can avoid death where no one else could!"]

"Well, what if they have a family? Being desperate is a reason why a lot of people do things for cash"

["Well that makes even less sense! Why would you attempt to lose your life if you got people relying on you? It'd make more sense to kill someone else before trying to kill yourself for money"] Frankie's spring neck slowly started to extend towards the contestant ["which makes me wonder...]" Now looming over the human, Frankie lowered his face close to Lucky, the smell of rotten flesh still fresh ["which are you?..."]

Lucky squinted their eyes and glared at the rabbit, unphased by the familiar smell and sight "what are you getting at?"

["Well it's just you don't take ANY of the money!"] Frankie's head snapped back to its original position, bobbing ever so slightly on its spring ["If you had a family to feed you'd take it without a second thought and leave, if you were suicidal you'd just let me kill you, that just leaves you either being some criminal on the run with this being your only safety, or plain stupid"]

Lucky chuckled and gave a dismissive wave "heh, well I know I'm stupid for staying but as for why I found this place in the first place?..." They looked towards the big door awaiting them both, it's presence making any humor vanish "... It really was because I couldn't think of any better way to go out, after all dying live in front of thousands is a whole lot better than tying a noose around my neck"

["So why is it that you ran? Why didn't you just let me kill you, I don't know if you could tell but I wasn't really keen on listening to the asshole watching the cameras"]

"Yeah... I could tell real fast you didn't care if I made it to the end..." Lucky grumbled before registering the question. With a small bit of thought they answered, their voice cracking from a small bit of uncertainty in their own words "I suppose it was just instinct? I did think the money would be nice but I didn't really think I'd last long... When I heard about–" the gestured to the surroundings "–this I watched a few clips online to see what exactly I was getting into, upon finding out barely anybody made it past the lobby let alone the first obstacle course I just said fuck it, blew a few grand on your crap cereal, and when I actually got here I got ready to die..."

Frankie's ears twitched, by his cartoon version's face filled with intrigue ["...And then?"]

Lucky took a second to recuperate their scattered thoughts. The fear they felt, the hopeless knowledge of what would happen when they walked in through those doors and put on the suit was still so fresh even after years. With a sigh they began to speak again, their words holding the same confidence that grew in them overtime.

"I found it... Fun" they met Frankie's gaze, the blue lights of the rabbit's eyes a lot easier to look at than the headache inducing fluorescent lights above "I know I'm crazy but when you were chasing me it felt like I actually had a purpose, obviously my body just wanted to not die, basic science behind survival and all that, but after the initial fear started to fade and I could begin to think clearly I wanted more, it's why I kept going, it's why I didn't stop and give up, it's why I kept trying to get to the end and managing to outrun you"

["Atatata!"] Frankie sputtered ["let's get the story straight here, I "LET you live, reminder that the other called me back when I was so capable of killing you"]

"Oh of course, it's not like after when Henry was close to killing me you just couldn't let your fragile ego be broken so you tried to catch me when he was attempting to kill me as well" Lucky stood up, a snort was given as they recounted the past "oh! Oh! Can't forget 'STOP MESSING UP MY FUCKING GAMESHOW!' can we!?"

Frankie sat back, watching the human he could so easily crush begin to laugh. Way back when if anyone dared to mock him in such a way he would be quick to put them in their place, not even the other wouldn't be safe if they acted in such a manner. Frankie couldn't help but feel different when Lucky did it, like he actually liked getting mocked? It was strange, but it was sort of nice knowing his little outburst was memorable, that Lucky still recalled their first interaction. It gave him a sense of nostalgia that he had never had before.

["... You know, I actually liked it when you ran"]

Lucky's laughter was cut short, the words making him sputter and cough "CUGH! ugh! Wh-what!?"

Frankie covered his mouth and snickered ["I said: I actually liked it when you ran"] he shrugged ["you're the first little fucker who ever gave me a run for my money, well— I guess the company's money, but my point still stands, you were the first to make the game a bit more interesting and made me think about actually winning rather than just coming up with new execution strategies"]

"Ahh yes, I'm sooooo~ grateful I made you think about killing me rather than coming up with whatever sick shit you thought about before"

["You should be, you should also be grateful I never caught you because if I did I would of found out real fast if my springs were durable enough to be used as guillotine"] Frankie flicked the spring that acted as his arm ["there's a good chance they would of just painfully dug into your skin and strangled you, but I believe anything can be used to cut if you try hard enough"]

As grim as it sounded, and as genuine of a threat as it was, both cracked up laughing. It was dark, but to them it was playful. Death was really always how they played, it was the foundation of what they built and what kept their interactions interesting. As the time ticked by, and the laughter subsided, both knew the borrowed time they ran on had to be given back. If they spent too long out of the camera's view they knew the other would creep in with a camera to catch their bonding moment. Both would rather be caught dead than having the audience know of them. It was a bit more than fondness of course, although neither wanted to admit it. Instead they looked towards the glaring pink elephant in the room. A pressing issue that only grew more pressing by the moment, the one that spurred them to stop and talk in the first place, the aforementioned end. It was a bitter truth neither wanted to face, but an unavoidable one that Frankie spoke about, the warmth in his voice vanishing.

["... They didn't bother making a new suit for me this time around..."]

Lucky joined the rabbit in his unease "The other one told me already, turns out seeing me win is getting boring" They sighed and began to raise their voice "How could they take it out on you though? Why wouldn't they just kill me instead of replacing you?"

["Hell if I know"] Frankie shrugged and got to his feet, with a huff he shook his head ["that fake bastard nearly got scrapped by the higher-ups and he barely gets a say in how the show goes, my best guess is the reason why they don't just get rid of you is the same reason this entire show started in the first place, humans being the greedy fuckers they are are willing to find the cheapest solution to any problem"] a deep rumbling growl came out from Frankie's physical body, one of the few noises he was capable of making ["hay, maybe you'll find it fun getting chased by whatever new horrifying fuck takes my place, I'm sure the higher-ups will think of something, like maybe a person with a etch-a-sketch for a head"]

Both looked at each other before chuckling. The very idea that anything could replace Frankie and his brutal ways was hilarious. After all, what would this show be without Frankie? Sure Deputy Duck and Henry were there, but Deputy Duck wasn't really an obstacle and Henry could be easily avoided if you didn't irritate him with his telephones. The show was centered around the rabbit mascot, it was named Finding Frankie. Without Frankie it wouldn't be the same no matter what and with the way the rabbit spoke about the future off-put Lucky. It caught him off guard"

"Heh... What uhh... What makes you assume you'll lose?"

["Hmm?"] Frankie's head twisted to look down at Lucky, his ears twitching as he wondered if he heard correctly ["what? Do you really think I'll win this time around?"] He scoffed ["you've been beating me since you first got here, why is this season gonna be any different? We'll do Hexa-Havoc, you'll beat me, I'll fall, you'll catch the rail, collect the money and keep playing, it always ends like that no matter what"]

"You don't know that" Lucky said quickly.

Looking back down from where they came from, the whirr of buzzsaws that were dangerously close to their being made Lucky think about just how close they were to death. They were still close to death, but they didn't fear it. Not now at least.

"Can't be flawless always right? I was bound to slip up eventually... Make a wrong step, maybe trip... It'd be so easy for me to just make one simple mistake and fall..."

Frankie glared at Lucky and crouched down to face him, even his cartoon version had its face zoomed in on to accentuate its attitude ["what are you saying?"]

"Nothing, nothing at all" Lucky began to walk forward, the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the walls "just that maybe this will be the time you actually get me"

Frankie's face dropped hearing the human's words. Although they didn't say it outright, he knew what they were insinuating. The talk about death, not having purpose and the inevitable end made it all too clear the message. He didn't expect for the human to try and sacrifice themselves, and as much as he would have loved to continue owning the show, he didn't want to. Never once would he expect a human of all things to pity him and he was quick to make his opinion known. He couldn't let Lucky give up, it didn't feel right to them and it certainly didn't feel right to be without them.

["You hold the fuck up!"] He snatched up the human, making sure not to crush them in his metal grasp but still make sure they couldn't squirm out ["You can't just lose on purpose!"]

"Who says I was gonna loseon purpose?"

["YOU WERE IMPLYING IT!"] Frankie stamped his foot on the ground, the cartoon version getting sudden flames in his eyes ["I'd rather be awake and have some fuck-head mechanics the company send dismantle me bit by bit than just let you throw away your spot in the show"]

"I DON'T WANT A SPOT IN THIS FUCKED UP SHOW!" Lucky felt themselves tear up under the mask, the material underneath becoming damp "the reason why I never took the money is because I never wanted it! I want to continue running! Continue playing, but it won't be the same without you!" They choked on a sob, their voice cracking as they pressed a hand to their pulsing heart "I won't be able to continue if you don't come back..."

Frankie didn't have a heart but those words pained his virtual feelings all the same. His grip faltered and Lucky dropped to the ground. The human turned away and removed their mask, beginning to wipe their tears off their unseen face. Whenever the rabbit saw any other cry he'd laugh, mock their pain before biting their head off. Instead he found himself also tearing up, or at least the virtual display which was a true depiction of how he felt. With a quick wipe of his own tears—his physical body wiping nothing—he placed his giant hand on Lucky's shoulder, the size difference would be comical in any circumstance other than the one they found themselves in.

["I don't think I'll be able to continue without you either..."] Frankie grumbled, trying his best to hold back any more emotions as he pulled away ["as much as it sucks, It's just how things gotta be..."]

Lucky sniffled and swallowed a ball of spit that built in their throat "I guess so..." They looked downwards at the mask in their hand, it felt more familiar than their real face "if... If this is the last time we see each other, than I guess I won't lose anything letting you see what I always hid"

Frankie's eyes widened as Lucky began to turn around ["ATATA! NO! NO!" He twirled his torso around, his feet staying in the same place as his springs twisted to make him face away [“keep the mask on! I don't wanna see it!"]

"..." Lucky raised an eyebrow before slowly placing the mask back on "you don't wanna see my face?"

["see your face!? Why the hell would I wanna see that!"] Frankie crossed his arms and let himself snap back around after he heard Lucky's mask be fastened ["If I never see your face I get to know that I look better than you"] he said with a smug grin as he adjusted his bowtie.

"Really?" Lucky snorted and placed a hand on the hip "I think it's safe to say there's not a deformity, defect, or skin condition that could make me look worse than you, and I ain't talking about what's actually standing here”

Frankie flinched back, his ears sagged as he looked at his cartoon appearance which he prided himself on ["wow... You REALLY know how to push my buttons don'tcha?"]

"It's what throws you off your game, makes ya sloppy during chases"

["Oh! Well, ain't you just a lovely cheating cunt!"] Frankie chuckled and let his neck drop his head, with a face that was now upside down he let out another growl and stared down Lucky ["let's not do that this time, capiche? I want a good clean game, none of your little cheating and riling me up, no goofing off or not taking it seriously, and certainly no going easy on me so you can fulfill a death wish"]

"Rules go two ways Frankie, I know for a doubt sometimes you don't run as fast as you could when chasing me, why don't you show everyone why it's called Finding Frankie instead of being just a sore loser"

Lucky pressed one of his gloved fingers to Frankie's nose. Much to their surprise a distinct robotic voice line came from his body, a giddly little chuckle that rang out to both their shock. Lucky couldn't believe such a thing was built into the toothy monster and Frankie didn't think anyone would find out.

["Oh.... Okay!"] His head slingshotted back to its original position and he began to march off ["I'm gonna have so much FUN killing you!"]

"not if I send your sorry ass into the fire!" Lucky yelled after them.

"hay moron! Look at the screen!"

Lucky looked upwards, he usually looked at the rabbit themselves rather than the avatar they used to speak. Although their body was out of sight, their cartoon appearance could more than aptly send a message. With his little rabbit toon body bouncing, Frankie made a cranking gesture with one hand as the other slowly flipped them the bird. Once the gesture was fully given Frankie gave a mock face of shock before vanishing.

Lucky quickly yelled back down the hallway "FUCK YOU TOO! GET READY TO EAT SHIT DUMBASS!"

With their respective taunts spurring them on, both raced to the arena. Lucky wasted no time in kicking down the doors to the season finale and sprinting down the familiar corridor to the final game, Hexa-Havoc. It was a path they had walked before, but never once ran. Just as the show was about to change, so did their attitude towards everything, no longer somber, they eagerly jumped down onto the colorful hexagons to get into the ring. With an unseen smile on their face they witnessed Frankie join them, hurling himself into the ring with a lunge intent on already killing. It was a game they had played countless times, the showrunners incapable of thinking anything more climatic. It was fine, it just meant they had seasons worth of experience to play to the best of their abilities.

And played they did.

Methodical, careful, deliberate in each and every movement they moved. What once was a sloppy frantic chase with falling platforms became a graceful rehearsed dance of two parties in a game with the odds stacked against both. Lucky and Frankie both made it apparent they weren't going easy, Lucky was careful to jump on every other platform conserving as much space as possible within each level. Frankie's jumps which were once used to merely catch up were now used to eliminate and were made with deadly accuracy. Each time the giant rabbit hopped up Lucky had to slide away else they'd be as flat as the platforms they ran on. It was refreshing and even with the intial diminishing views the sheer skill both displayed began to attract new watchers. Numbers rose as the time fell, more and more people tuned in to see what was once a chase become something so much more. The chat, unseen to both, exploded with new people wondering if this was the constant quality, meanwhile old viewers were astonished at how both acted. It was something they had never seen from either, old and new watchers alike were left starstruck as they witnessed time the climax to the show they mindlessly tuned into on the dark web.

["our show just reached a world record for death shows across the world! It's at a million views!"] The other Frankie yelled over the intercom ["the lever is now unlocked! With this many viewers the prize money may QUADRU–"]

SSSSKKKSSSTTT

Frankie hacked both the intercom and televisions scattered around the arena. His cartoon appearance held a familiar flame in his eyes but unlike the past it held no rage or crazed desire for death. Instead his gaze fixated on Lucky and the way they ran. The human locked eyes with the screen and knew it was a fire of passion.

["SHUT IT DIPSHIT! THIS IS OUR SHOW! WE SAY WHEN IT ENDS!"]

Wait—Our show?

It didn't matter if Lucky heard correctly or not, the show carried on with both not even finishing with the second level of platforms. Lucky didn't even give the noob-noob release a glance, instead their attention was given in full to Frankie and their reaching hands. The rabbit repeatedly swiped as they marched towards what they once considered a victim. Now with both near the end, their fates currently uncertain, they felt that same something that only Lucky managed to give them. When he finally managed to corner them only to be met with them slipping between his legs and keep running did he have a rough idea of what it was. It was a feeling Lucky too shared, it was one that made their blood pump and heart pound louder than any scream that could be given by the million people cheering them both on at once. Some of the viewers wanted Lucky to die, finally have the champ meet his end and descend down into hell, meanwhile some rooted for the fragile human to best the monstrous rabbit that was responsible for murdering a large portion of people. Neither really cared what the audience wanted, both were having the time of their life and it only got better once 0 platforms remained on the second level.

Down to the third and final level, both could barely feel the heat looming below as they continued. Even if machine, Frankie's body started to overheat in the same manner Lucky's began to exhaust. Movements became a lot less graceful as they became literally one step closer to the end each moment. Raw and tired, Frankie stopped jumping and instead focused solely on grabbing and Lucky stopped sliding, it was too damn effort and with no safety net it was too damn dangerous. The desperate huff of a masked individual and the creak of mechanical rabbit's joints replaced the dubstep track that played during the finale. The soundtrack wasn't intended to be played this long, but considering Frankie and Lucky never intended to feel such deep things about each other it was safe to say life was full of surprises. It certainly was a surprise to both how much they thoroughly enjoyed it. Each step ignited past memories of doing this very thing, only with a lot less of a rush this time around. It was these memories that flashed before them as the game eventually came to a complete stop. The show reached its peak with both Lucky and Frankie on their final platform, both had given it their all yet it didn't change their fate.

["Game over... Goodbye, Lucky"]

Lucky was left speechless as he looked to see Frankie on the screen shed a tear through grit teeth. Just like their very first encounter and subsequent encounters they fell down into the incinerator below. Useless merchandise, bits of garbage, and the old clothes and remains of past contestants were piled around the hellish flames that were at the center of the parkour palace. The smell of burnt flesh filled Lucky's nostrils, the past 3 contestants who didn't make it as far as him invading his senses. Frankie knew this was his end and couldn't accept anything less than what he got. Initially wishing for nothing more than to remain the top dog who racked up views as they killed Frankie was happy he was dethroned. Not only happy but overjoyed he could play with his lucky little contestant one last time before he would die. The grind rail couldn't support his weight and from past attempts trying to claw out only extended the pain, it was futile but he was okay with it. The smile on his body's face would be genuine as he watched his contestant above grab onto the rail. Saving themselves just as they had saved themselves countless times before.

Only this time they didn't.

In a shocking display that made chat and the other watching erupt into screams Lucky actually missed the railing. They themselves didn't know if it was on purpose, after all just as they said you can't go so many seasons and not make a misplay. But was it really a misplay? They meant it when they said they wouldn't be able to go on with Frankie, but would it really mean they would accept death with him? They didn't know. All that they did know was that no end could have been better.

Even with Frankie holding them against his metal body, the flames only making it hotter, they didn't regret a second. No screams were made as they gazed into each other's eyes, Frankie's bright blue piercing the surrounding red and staring deep into the masked covered one's of Lucky's. Metal melded into flesh that was seared black, the pain of which would make any scream out or writhe in pain. Instead Lucky just kept their vision focused forward towards Frankie, the rabbit doing the same as he fought with his circuits which wanted to shut off. It hurt, it hurt like hell, but it would pale in comparison for either to live another second without seeing the other. Memories of all the fun they had, even if it was built in the foundation of death, were looked down upon fondly as the end came by the millisecond. Tears which were almost immediately evaporated tried to roll down burnt flesh, and if he was capable Frankie would return the human gesture if not limited by his metallic body. The rabbit's tears were in the same vein as the human's, he wasn't sad but rather was overjoyed he wouldn't be alone. He *did* wish for Lucky to survive, move on, continue living without him. But maybe this was their fates. Their true fates. It took so long for both to finally realize what they was truly special and would never again happen, but maybe it was for the best. Hatred that sprouted into fondness, fondness which grew into care, care which bloomed into love was now fully understood by both. Frankie, happy he managed to find such a silly human emotion in his life filled with death and Lucky, grateful they were ironically saved from their depressing life by the very thing that wanted to kill them, closed their eyes. They embraced each other for what would be the first and last time in their lives as the fire covered them, shielding their love from prying eyes. It was an end, but one both could accept. Even as Lucky's brain began to melt they still thought about the name given to them and how each time Frankie called them that—even out of anger—it made their hate race in a way no chase could. It repeated, stuck on loop as their life came to an end.

Lucky

...

"Lucky"

...?

"Lucky!"

...?!

"LUCKY!"

!

Lucky's name being screamed made them jump up and look around at their surroundings, their heart not stopping for a second. It scared the hell out of them and they couldn't understand, what just happened? Their head was pounding, their body was all warm—wait! Weren't they on fire and dying a second ago? No. Of course not, why the heck would they be on fire? The sun was shining down, it was warm, pleasant, like a comforting blanket. Where the hell would fire come from? In fact, where would dying even come from!?

"LUCKY!"

Lucky spun around, their floppy ears instinctively laying flat at the sound of a loud noise "huh!?"

There running through a flower filled meadow was a familiar sight. Robotic prosthetic limbs attached to the body of one small grayish furry rabbit with lop-ears, bowtie, and magician hat. It was Frankie, it was their Frankie.

"THERE YOU ARE!" The rabbit yelled as he wagged his finger at Lucky "where the hell were you! I was looking around for ages, I thought you fucking DIED!"

"Ugh... Sorry" Lucky groaned and pressed a paw to their forehead, the sight of their hand made them flinch for some reason but they shook it off "think I tripped and got knocked out or something... would explain why I feel like I got a whole lotta head trauma"

"Knocked out!?" Frankie repeated, their nose twitching as they inspected the other rabbit "oh god! I– I didn't know! Do you need to stop? Go to the ER?"

"ER!? And let YOU win!?" Lucky scoffed and shoved the other rabbit playfully, a smile playing on their lips "fat chance magic boy, round 2 is starting now!"

Frankie shrugged "eh, if you say you're alright I ain't gonna push the issue" the rabbit tapped his foot against the ground "so, you wanna be the tagger or tagee this time around? Pick the option that WON'T make you accidentally crack your skull open"

"I didn't crack my damn skull open!" Lucky said as they thumped his paw into the dirt. With a low growl they suddenly stopped and began to think of the game they played that had been interrupted by them falling unconscious "hmm... You know, I think I wanna go back to being it"

"Ughhh..." Frankie's limbs extended and limply laid on the ground, his entire body unraveling to express his disdain "you're **ALWAYS** it! That round was the first time I got to be it in forever!"

"Welp, I guess we can just go back home and sleep, you can take the couch or course–"

Frankie stood back up "You're a bitch ya know that?"

"A bitch who's your lover, may I remind you?" Lucky leaned in close, pressing their snout close to Frankie's.

Seeing that stupid smile on Lucky's face made Frankie roll his eyes "fine! You're it!, gimme a 30 second head start this time okay?"

"Fine–" Lucky quickly grabbed the rabbit and pulled him into a kiss.

Frankie's eyes went wide and tensed up, his body slowly melting into Lucky's grasp before realizing what they were doing "wait! No!"

"20 seconds left~"

"You can't fucking do that!" Frankie blushed, his cheek fur magically turning red as per toon rules "you're cheating!"

"19... 18..." They kept counting.

"AH!"

Frankie stumbled away and quickly began to break into a sprint. They would certainly get back at Lucky for the sly move but pushed revenge out of his mind. For now they would appreciate their rabbit partner, even if they were a dirty cheater.

Looking back Frankie locked eyes with Lucky. The smiling rabbit still counting as they watched him run. It was the start to another one of their games, a game that would eventually end like all things would. For now they wouldn't think about the end, for now they'd just be happy and enjoy what time they had.

[dullgecko]

i have the image of fabian using his battle sheet as a temporary burial shroud for riz

Part 1 - Part 2

Riz had been sitting under the tree near his dads desk for hours, his new wings hiding him from view as he tried very hard not to freak out. Pok could see that he wasn’t doing great and had kept the supply of hot drinks coming, more than a dozen empty paper cups that had once contained (admittedly fantastic) coffee sitting around his feet. He didn’t even feel jittery or ill from drinking that much that fast it was weird, but apparently he was a ‘risen soul’ now and he was in heaven so maybe coffee didn’t have any negative effects for him anymore.

Once it hit the six hour mark he had to admit that okay, maybe he did have to accept that he wasn’t getting resurrected any time soon but it was still weird. Kristen had at least two diamonds on her the last time he counted, and Fig had a spare too so they should have brought him back immediately… unless they were also dead? Fuck... maybe he’d accidentally triggered that trap and wiped out his whole team.

Riz popped his head out over the edge of his wings, scrambling to his feet and nearly overbalancing because he still wasn’t used to the extra weight as he lunged forwards to grab his dad by the arms.

“Are my party also dead!?”

“I…. don’t believe so?” Pok had nearly spilled his own drink in surprise when Riz shot up out of his depressed curl, not expecting him to be moving at all yet so soon after his death. Usually people would be stuck in a depression spiral until at least their funeral but Riz never had been one to sit still for very long if he could help it.

“But you’re not sure? Is there a way I can check? They were with me so they should have brought me back straight away.” Riz’s eyes were wide with panic and he’d subconsciously pulled back his lips to show off his teeth, Pok having to place a gentle hand on his head and give him a gentle scratch behind the ear to make him calm down slightly.

“Yeah, sure kid. I’ll give you tour of the records room and show you how to look that stuff up. You sure you’re up for it?”

“No, but I need to know or it will drive me crazy.”

- -------------------

Gorgug and Fabian had been nearly inconsolable when they were woken from their rest to find one of their party members dead. The half elf going so far as to steal Riz’s dead body out of Kristens arms and refuse to let him go until it was pointed out that they should probably find a way to preserve him until they found a way to bring him back.

Adaine had cooled his body down until near freezing before Fabian carefully wrapped the goblin in his battle sheet, not liking that Riz was going to be cold and insisting that he needed the blanket (as irrational as that was given they needed to keep him cold) as they placed him inside his own briefcase. He’d stay chilled in there for longer but it wouldn’t stop him from warming back up entirely, they’d need to periodically cool him down again until they could resurrect him in order to stop decay.

First order of business was getting the hell out of the temple. Fig had tried dimension dooring them to The Bottomless Pit but something in the building was blocking them from leaving that way so they had to take the long way out. Thankfully it was easier leaving then entering since they’d cleared most of the traps on the way in already but it still burned a good ten hours of time before they finally made it to the surface.

Now all they had to do was find a diamond that was worth enough to use as the spell component to bring their friend back, unfortunately that was going to be the hard part of this quest… and they’d probably need multiple just in case the spell failed again. Kristen still had no idea why Riz was apparently ‘unavailable’ for resurrection and Cassandra didn’t have any answers for her either, especially since all she knew was that the goblins soul had gone to Bytopia rather than her own afterlife.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

when your pet's health is declining to a very worrying level but you can't go home until thursday because of schoolwork and distance :)

[fragmentedblade]

It's sort of ironic how fans often link the leaf 🍁 to Dan Heng, considering "Feng" means "maple", but it's also so fitting

[lovelivision]

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Getting double penetrated by Gojo and Geto, taking them both at the same time. Laying on top of Gojo, head pressed to his chest, unable to help the way you’re drooling onto his skin. Geto behind you, cock sat deep inside your snug cunt, alongside Gojo’s.

Pussy overstuffed and making an obscene mess, not able to move, trying to adjust to the stretch of having both of them inside you. Gojo stroking your back and cooing at you, “Too much for you, sweetie?”

Shaking your head quickly against him, panting out, “No– hah– I’m good.”

Geto lets out an amused huff and leans down to you, murmuring low in your ear, “You always take it so well don’t you?”

His voice sends shivers down your spine, biting your lip to supress the moan you almost let out at his movements and words.

Both of them groan at your reaction, Gojo breathlessly asking, “You feel that, Suguru?”

“Mhm,” Geto cruelly blows on your ear, “You like when I talk to you?”

Your hips jerk, fucking yourself on the both of them, “Please.”

Gojo laughs but it comes out wrecked, “Sounds like you’re avoiding the question.”

“Can’t have that can we?” Geto directs at Gojo.

To which he only smiles back big and evil, “No, we can’t.”

They both begin moving at once, apparently knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Your cunt making lewd slick sounds as they both thrust in and out of you. Feeling so full it’s driving you up a wall, nails digging into Gojo’s chest under you. Breaths coming fast as you struggle to think, incoherent whines being the only thing that leaves you.

Your pussy sucking them both back in, twitching and squirming between the two of them. Using your hips to fuck yourself back onto the both of them as much as you can manage.

Geto pulls himself up, hands gripping your ass cheeks to pull them apart, choking back a moan at the sight of it all. Ruined when he says, “So messy, creaming all over us.”

“Wish I could see– hnn– next time we’re swapping – hah – positions, Suguru.” Gojo rambles out, obviously feeling jealous at being deprived of the whole view, “How does it feel, hmm?” Gojo asks you, wanting you to tell him how good it feels.

Your response is moaned, “Feels so– oh! I feel full.” Tears brimmed on your lash line.

“I fuckin bet,” he chuckles out. “Look here, look at me, pretty,” Gojo’s directing your attention to him.

It takes everything in you to look at him, he whines when you do, the look on your face making his hips jerk and stutter, pace ruined for a moment. You’re all teary eyed and mouth agape, choking on moans that don’t stop, it drives Gojo wild.

“Ohh that’s cute,” A hand reaches up and he wipes the spit from the corner of your mouth.

Geto grunts at the pace change, “You good, Satoru?”

“Oh yeah, just admiring the view,” he smirks at you.

The hum Geto lets out is low and thoughtful, his hands pulling at your ass again, “As much as I love this view, I wanna see how you cry for it, pretty.” Geto’s tone is bright, enjoying the thought of you falling apart for them. His eyes flick to Gojo’s, “Think we might have to swap positions next time after all.”

Then they’re sharing a cheeky smile with each other before drilling into you again, quicker, doubling their efforts to make you insane. The whimpers they’re pulling out of you just won’t stop, and Gojo’s holding such intense eye contact it’s making you feel bashful. Leaning into him, you plant your lips on his in a messy kiss.

Your tongue in his mouth before he can think, a loud moan caught in his chest at how insistently you kiss him. From behind, Geto clicks his tongue, hand reaching for your neck to pull you back and off Gojo’s mouth.

“Can’t have Satoru keeping all your pretty moans to himself,” he squeezes your neck lightly as a warning.

“Mm sorry,” you murmur out.

Gojo bites his lip and smiles at you, “I’m not.”

Geto gives a particularly harsh thrust, one that makes you cry out a moan and your head spin all at once.

The both of them at once just might kill you…

[uglygirltrying]

wolf-hybrid!simon x bunny-hybrid!reader | PT3 | pt2 | pt1 |

apparently simon wasn't the only one who loved your scent.

other males had been trespassing on his territory, coming dangerously close to his den. to you.

simon tried to make his scent more pronounced. to keep them away. to keep his bunny safe.

fortunately, so far, no one had been brave enough, to deliberately come after you. and simon thought that nobody would be.

until that day.

simon had left for water that evening. he wouldn't have been gone for long. it was always risky to leave you alone, without his protection. but simon promised to be quick.

unfortunately, that was enough time for him.

you shouldn't have been so naïve. so stupid. you should've stayed vigilant. but you were just cleaning the den. you didn't feel threatened. you felt safe.

heavy thumps on top of the den. that's what you heard first. you looked up, a little bit of dirt fell down from the den ceiling, and dropped on your head. it must be simon. it has to be. right?

but then. there was slow struggling at the den's entrance. you couldn't see it, it was behind a curve. but you could hear it. simon didn't have to struggle to get inside. it was his den after all, it was just big enough, to let him inside.

maybe he was just struggling with the water. yeah. it's simon, you tried to reassure yourself.

"s-simon...?" your voice was meek, scared, unsure. you've stopped messing with the nest, now only focused on the noises coming from the den's entrance.

the obvious struggles at the entrance stopped.

why? simon would give you an answer, wouldn't he?

the weather was beautiful. there was only few clouds covering the blue sky. the sun glared down, hot and bright. it made the snowbanks sparkle beautifully.

the hot light made the snow melt away, uncovering calm, small rapid. the clear water ran over the rocks underneath it's surface. only more and more snow kept melting into the water, small droplets falling down from the melting ice, and snow.

simon knelt by the river. filling a carved, wooden bucket, with the cold, refreshing water.

he had to keep himself, and the bunny hydrated, after all.

the bucket filled pretty quickly, and simon was ready to head back to the den.

the snow crunched under his steps. simons hot breath came out as steam, as it hit the cold air. frost was starting to form on the tips of his hair.

the wolf's movements stilled, as smell hit his nose. a musk. another male.

simon dropped the water filled bucket, and began to run. you were alone. hopefully you were alone.

but he wasn't there to protect you. oh, god.

panic flared inside simon, his heart beating out of his chest.

the den was just a rocks throw away from the river. simon was quickly there. that didn't calm him down. somebody was kneeling at the den's entrance, trying to dig in. trying to get to his bunny.

simon panted heavily as he approached. the trespasser heard him coming. with a smirk on his face, the intruder turned around, to look at simon. simon's hands clenched into fists, his skin turning white.

he gritted his teeth. "mace." the wolfs voice resembled a growl.

here this bear was, trying to steal his bun. simon knew him, a territorial rival. and now he was attempting to take his fucking mate. his mate. his.

the black bear chuckled darkly, as he stood up.

"can smell her... you're hiding a sweet thing in there..."

"time for you to go, mace." simon grumbled.

mace grinned. "i'll leave you be, for now."

he walked down from the den's entrance, towards simon.

"might wanna keep her in there. never know when she's going to get snatched up."

mace's shoulder knocked against simon's, when he walked past him.

simon was fuming. his whole body moved, as he took heavy breaths.

the wolf listened, until the sound of footsteps faded away, before rushing to the mouth of the den.

"bun? come here." he called out, into the tunnel.

he had to wait a moment, before he saw your head sticking out of the hole.

simon sighed. "come here..." he signaled for you to come closer with his hand. slowly, and hesitantly, you crawled to the entrance of the den, where he was waiting for you.

"you okay, bun?" simon mumbled, his hand gently holding your cheek. after a meek nod of your head, simon leaned in and kissed your forehead.

simon leaned away, and gently guided you back down into the den, following suite after you. once you were down in the nest, simon made sure to hold you tight against his chest.

"you know that I would never let anything happen to you. you know that, don't you, bunny?" the wolf murmured into your ear, his free hand slowly making it's way down your stomach.

"what can i do to calm you down, huh? you're still shaking." his hot breath hitting your ear. simon was being sneaky. before you even knew it, his calloused fingers, pinched your nub.

he chuckled at the squeal you let out. his fingers began to gently massage your little clit.

"i'll never let that happen again. okay?" his voice got more serious, and his touch harder. your legs kicked out at the increasing pressure on your sensitive clit.

his touch didn't relent. it only got more determined.

determined to distract you from the scary situation, you had to go through.

determined to make you feel good.

the feeling was foreign. his touch was so tough, just like him. but his words were so sweet. the pressure in your belly grew. your breathing got heavier. simon noticed. with a wicked smirk on his face, his movements got faster.

"give it to me. c'mon bunny... i know you want to." he so meanly teased.

it just suddenly hit you. your legs tensed up, and your breath hitched. luckily, simon decided to show you mercy. he helped you get down from your bliss, before pulling his hand from in between your sweet thighs. your juices coated his fingers. simon grinned at the sight.

the bunny was now completely limp in his arms, panting and exhausted. simon wiped his dirty fingers against the fur on your stomach. simon's hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to look at him.

"go to sleep, bunny..." he murmured quietly, laying you against his side. his arms rested around you, in a protective hold. he couldn't even imagine how scary it must've been for you, being trapped down here, with no way out, while somebody was trying to crawl inside.

but just as he promised, simon would never let it happen again.

authors note: that poor bucket, alone in the cold forest :(

heart divider by @roseschoices

taglist (honestly i'm pretty lost who's on it and who isn't😭):

@famouscattale @nappingmoon @tame-the-lion-writes @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @distinguishedprincesstrash @yourfavreggie @rorowingaboat @limeleag @sushiumex @aldis-nuts (won't find it sorry) @the-palelady

COMMENT TO GET ON THIS TAGLIST 😠

[sunsetsimon]

blue collar simon ♡ because i'm going insane

pt 2 here

☼ he's waking up around 4:30am most days, due to starting at a new job site that gives him a longer commute. he's grumbly when his alarm blares, quickly turning it off and sitting on the edge of the bed for a minute to stare off and come to. his footsteps are quiet as he heads to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and giving his face a rinse to clear it from sleep. simon makes sure to keep his hair short, only needing to run his fingers through it to tame a few wild pieces that stick up on the side.

☼ most mornings you get up with him, his alarm waking you up even with as quickly as he turns it off. "go back t'sleep love," he leans over, cupping your cheek lovingly as you try to blink the sleep out of your eyes.

"gonna pack your lunch si," you say, so quietly he almost doesn't hear you. he knows better than to argue though, you're already up and nothing is better than having you help him get ready for his long day.

you slip on one of his hoodies on your way downstairs, practically swimming in the fabric as it rests on your mid thighs, hands covered in the long sleeves. his heart swells, you look so cute when you're tired and stubborn, refusing to let him leave without a proper lunch.

☼ he's not able to talk much throughout the day with how busy he is. sometimes you only get a quick 2 minute call while he's scarfing down his lunch, complaining about how their project manager was being a dick that day.

"'right babe. gettin' back to it so i'll call you when i'm leaving, whenever the fuck that'll be."

"okay si. i love you, be careful."

"always am. love you."

sometimes you get lucky with a random picture of something on the site, having no idea what it is you can only respond with a "what am i looking at?"

"fuckin' dumbass rookie can't mark out a straight line to save his fuckin' life."

whatever the hell that means. simon thinks it's funny though.

☼ comes home with new cuts and bruises everyday, the wrap on one of his fingers soaked with dirt and blood. his hands are cut up and scarred, calloused and rough to the touch but you still love them, those hands provide everything for you. you're constantly having to remind him to clean under his nails after a long day though, refusing to be touched until they're squeaky clean.

☼ he never gets home at the same time, a supposed-to-be 10 hour shift can quickly turn into a 12 or 13 depending on how much work needs to be done. not a week goes by when he doesn't have overtime, and though he makes a lot of money, he's fucking exhausted when he gets home. lazily unlacing and kicking his boots off at the door while coming in, practically with a limp, his knees and feet fighting to not give out from pure exhaustion.

still finds the energy to shove his dirty hands under your shirt though when he catches you at the stove preparing him a plate. his unkempt stubble scratches your neck as he inhales your clean, addicting scent. planting soft kisses along the skin, you almost melt into him until you smell him, dust and sweat clouding your nose.

"ugh simon! you can't be all over me while you're dirty," you whine, trying to pull away from his tightening grip on your hips.

"can't help it when y'look so damn good. missed you all day," he grumbles, pulling your ass back against his growing bulge in his work pants, thrusting against you through layers of clothing.

"eat and take a shower first, then we can talk," you give him another shove - much to his dismay. apparently he wasn't as tired as he thought.

[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.

-

Support my works by reblog, comment or consider to tip me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @9900z

[enviedear]

LOVING ALONE IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT

₊ ⊹ JASON TODD

🧸ྀི REQUEST | jason having (what he thinks is) an unrequited crush

CW | lovesick!jason with issues accepting love, just-a-buncha fluff. 1.6k words. 🎧ྀི

your eyes flicker to your window for the hundredth time in ten minutes. there's an attempt at forcing your gaze back to your book, but your concentration on it has long since shattered. it's impossible to concentrate on anything other than him, perched on your fire escape right outside your window—JASON TODD.

he thinks he’s so subtle, as if you'll never notice when he parks himself on your fire escape like some sort of gargoyle. you smile slightly at the thought, heart pounding a little faster than it should. a condition that makes itself apparent far too much when your mind drifts to him.

he's silently taken on a sort of sworn protector role, separate from his nightly redhood rendezvous. you count yourself lucky to have his presence around your domicile so often. you truly never got over the culture shock that was gotham, but jason helps. even if he decides to go to great lengths to try and hide it.

outside, in the frigid and everpresent putrid gotham air, jason todd sits in complete rumination. he has goosebumps marring his arms beneath his leather jacket, but he pays them no mind. no, he's far too busy listing all the reasons he should just leave, why sitting outside under the guise of guard is utterly stupid, but still, he sits.

he runs a gloved hand through his hair, tugging slightly. he feels pathetic. how can he meet death, the criminally insane, survive things that would kill most—and somehow, he's shocked still with nerves at the very idea of knocking on your window.

in his head he has it all pictured, if it went perfectly. you'd come to the window, a confused look on your face until you spot him. he'd pull some stupid line, something he heard dick use once, and it'd make you laugh. he loves hearing that, more than anything. then he'd crawl in—spend the rest of his night with you, doing anything. and in his head, that's perfect.

but the underbelly of that dream keeps him rooted to your fire escape. to him, there's no way you could ever share his sentiments. you refer to him as a friend and no matter how much he wishes for something else, he can't change reality. can't force himself to make something more out of what you give him.

between the blood on his hands and the rage he can never seem to fully rid himself of, he's come to the aimless conclusion that you deserve someone better. someone more delicate, someone who doesn’t live with one foot in the grave. but every time you laugh or shoot him an easy smile, it gets easier to admit that he’s too far gone.

you deign the separation foolish, but still, you give yourself one more attempt at reading before you put your book to the side. really—you just wish he’d just say something. you’ve thought about saying something yourself, more times than you care to admit, but the timing never feels right. besides, there’s a part of you that wonders if jason even realizes you’ve been waiting out for him.

every time you joke or tease, you can see some struggle behind his eyes. as if he wants to let go and laugh with you, but something—himself—holds him back. your very own sisyphus—his very own boulder to carry up a labyrinthine mountain.

maybe it’s his past and the walls he’s built around himself, but you’re over him expecting you to be afraid of him. you wonder how much more evident you need to be. if anything, you wish he could see himself the way you do—intense, yes, but also loyal and good, even if he doesn’t believe it.

he proves it every night when he stands watch outside your shitty apartment.

with a sigh, you stand up from the couch, moving toward the window. he’s always so close, and yet there’s a distance he keeps in place—you’ve had enough of that.

you slide the window open, leaning out just enough to catch him mid-step as he’s about to leave—flee moreso. “going somewhere?”

he turns on his heels, red helmet in his hands, "figured you'd be asleep."

you hum, eyes narrowing, "already? it's six pm on a saturday."

“just didn’t want to bother you.” he admits, voice low, almost timid. he doesn’t meet your eyes, and it’s frustrating how hard he tries to hide, even from you.

“you’re not bothering me, jason.” you say softly, leaning on the window frame. “you never do.”

jason looks at you then, something uncertain flickering in his gaze. his lips dart out to quell his chapped lips—you hold his stare, hoping he can see what you’re trying to tell him, wordlessly.

that you want him here, that you’ve been wanting him all along.

“i can stop by for a few.” he finally says, adding a shrug to the end of his sentence.

you smile, opening the window fully as invitation. jason crawls in, a rather innocuous task but given his stature, always surprises you.

“i have pizza and brownies. saturday special.” you tell him, a persuasion. you want him to eat.

“sounds good.” he’s in the middle of slipping out of his redhood garb, clad in a skintight athletic tee and his cargos—mask sitting on your coffee table. “i’m gonna change in the bathroom, i’ll be right back.”

before his fingers can grab his duffle you start, “why don’t you shower here? i know you don’t have any of your usual stuff but—”

he cuts you off, “i couldn’t. i’m already eating your food…and using your fire escape as a landing spot.”

“jason, seriously. shower here. i’ll heat up the food and put on some tv. it’s a saturday.” you’re not one to beg, but this is treading the line.

his shoulders sag, but there’s a small smile on his face, “thanks, sweetheart. you’re too nice to me.”

his tone is sarcastic, self-deprecating, and that annoys you slightly. you want him to know that he’s welcome here, wanted. needed.

“i like it when you’re here, you know.” you feel like sparking a match, timid flames sparkling. “i miss you when you’re gone and everything.”

he quirks a brow, "what are you tryin' tell me?"

you feel silly at his question, the air around you seemingly buzzing. jason peers down at you with a raised brow, as if he's genuinely confused by the sentiment. as if he's baffled by the notion he could be someone to miss.

your breath hitches as you debate your next move. you're walking a thin line between saying too much and not enough. you could play it safe, keep your cards close to your chest—or you could be honest. near painfully so.

when you find your voice, it comes out soft, "i'm trying to say that i like it better when you come inside instead of sitting on my fire escape. i don't want to be a landing spot for you, i want... more."

he clears his throat, shifting on his feet, "you don't want that." he seems to take a step back, not physically, but mentally. his face goes still, chest breathing even, mind anywhere but the present.

you groan, annoyance evident, "i do though. you have to see that in some way by now." you step towards him, "sometimes i think you feel the same way."

jason’s gaze flickers toward the floor, and for a moment you wonder if you’ve crossed the line, if he’ll pull away entirely. but then he looks up, eyes darker, severely sincere. “you have no idea what you’re asking for.” he cautions, but his voice is lower, almost a whisper.

you smile softly, finally letting your hand touch his arm, feeling the solid warmth beneath. “maybe i do. maybe i’ve been waiting for you to realize it.”

“don’t say that unless you mean it,” he murmurs, his voice rough.

“i mean it.” you reply, sincere in your admission. “i’m not afraid of you, jason. i’m afraid of what happens if you keep shutting me out.”

he grumbles at that, a half-willed attempt to argue against your point. you stay quiet, urging him to continue where you left off. you watch his face contort through a realm of emotions—confusion, fear, and then, thinly masked and wistful poignancy.

“i’m not shutting you out. if anything, i’m protecting you.” he finally decides, arms crossing over his chest, eyes scanning the wall behind you. nervous.

you shake your head, fingers reaching for his twisted expression, finding home on his pink-tinted cheeks. “i don’t need you protecting me from you. i need you to want me as bad as i want you.”

your words are bold, maybe overconfident, but you mean them to the fullest extent. you’re so beyond exhausted of attempting to disregard or conceal your feelings. even if jason’s not, you think he deserves to know.

jason todd looks you over. his eyes raking you up and down like you’re some high valued product—and he’s unsure wether to take the bid or let it pass by. in the time you’ve known him, even in the thralls of his vigilante persona, he’s studied things. eyes pointedly and silently assessing his situation, no matter how far removed he is from his upbringing—his “father” lingers in his antics.

finally, he chuckles, low and more timid than usual, “you don’t know how badly i want you, sweetheart. but…” he stops himself, and you’re grateful because you would have done it yourself if he had continued on with some rebuttal. “fuck. you’re all i want.”

it comes out like a beg, pleading that rarely works it’s way onto his features. you smile, and pull him closer. his arms uncross, opting to gingerly hold your shoulders. still timid, unsure.

“you should know how much you mean to me. you do such a good job of showing me…keeping watch and never letting me eat alone. it’s sweet, you’re sweet. i want you to know it.” you keep his gaze when you speak, hopefully drilling each sentiment permanently into his consciousness.

he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, “i believe you. swear. i just… this is new. i never thought…” he falters off, equal parts unsure and dumbstruck. “i like you a lot. i didn’t know you felt the same, sweetheart.”

you grin, inching your face closer to his, “well i do. deal with it.” your tone is teasing, playful. pulling him back into the safety of reassurance—what you want him to anticipate from you.

it seems to put jason back in his element, “oh? you have demands? usually that’s my thing.”

you laugh, “could always be our thing. the demanding couple—sounds inspired, don’t you think?”

“something like that…” his smile is soft, “but for now, i think i’m fine with just being yours.” he says it so earnestly, no thought to it. just the truth, and it feels damn good. it envelops you just the same as his arms, wraps you up in utter victory. love hard fought—and it feels so sweet.

[murdrdocs]

80s pornstar logan; age gap; pornstar reader x pornstar logan; doggy; brat!reader MDNI 18+ w/ LOGAN HOWLETT

logan doesn't trust you.

he doesn't know you well enough for you to have gained his trust, but he refuses to get to know you. there's no point. in logan's eyes, there's no reason for you to get comfortable.

you won't be here for long.

he doesn't care how much the studio believes in you, he doesn't believe in you. how could he? you're so fucking green that he can smell it on you. only starred in a couple movies before this one, both nothing compared to the expansive record that he has.

gum-smacking, lip gloss shining under the sun, flowy shirts, and tiny shorts. compared to his cigars, fitted jeans, and plaid, the two of you are polar opposites. even though logan sees something in you. that same arrogance he had at your age. it just looks different on you.

you confront him first. standing beside his car in the studio parking lot, resting your hip on the door like it’s your vehicle. you’re blocking the entrance, lazily smacking your gum as you squint at him.

logan doesn’t say anything. he stands there, hands on his hips, his restless fingers tapping against the worn leather of his belt. he shamelessly lets his eyes rake down your body, taking in the natural shape of your tits through your loose shirt, the expanse of your legs barely covered by your tiny shorts. briefly, logan wonders if you’re shaved like some of the other younger girls he’s filmed with.

he finds himself wanting to find out.

he’s wearing his shades, the thin wire-framed ones with brown lenses. he knows they aren’t opaque, he knows you can see the path his eyes take, but he doesn’t care. he holds off a smile when you adjust your stance and scoff.

“what’s your problem with me?”

logan shrugs dismissively.

apparently, his nonchalance upsets you even more. he expects you to give him some speech about how rude he is, how you deserve to be here just as much as he does, how you earned your spot in this production. whatever your little brain can come up with.

but you give him none of that. you push off of logan's truck, step out of his way, and saunter off with a final call of, "see you on wednesday!".

logan lets his eyes linger on the switch in your hips and the shape of your ass.

his eyes find that same spot on wednesday, his view unobstructed now as your bare skin is illuminated underneath the studio lights. he's just staring and he can't stop. his eyes watching the way your skin ripples as he fucks you from behind, following the curve of your back, all the way up to the crown of your head which reaches for him.

he knows at some point he's supposed to grab the ponytail you have. the director wants him to mess it up as much as possible, providing a good contrast from how dolled up you were before. most of that has been done naturally. for some reason, everything with you seems natural. logan's been in the game for a while, he's had to fake scenes before. it's part of the job description, to act according to how the audience would want the sex to go. but with you, logan doesn't think he's been acting at all.

the energy buzzes around his entire body the entire time. he doesn't ever forget that you're both being filmed, it would be hard to, but he loses himself in it. he loses himself in the way you know just what to do. the way you angle your body perfectly according to the camera position, the way you speak to him, the way you're so visibly remembering every single direction you were giving before filming began.

your competence is hot.

by the time filming is over and a production assistant is handing you a warm towel and your robe, logan's fucking spent.

you're just there grinning, watching logan down an entire bottle of water in one go. when he comes up for air, you stand before him, keeping your eyes on his.

"i see why you're known for your stamina," is all you say to him before you turn away and disappear, possibly unaware of the semi that was brewing beneath the towel covering logan's hips. 

the next time logan sees you, it's through a headshot. sitting on the casting director's desk, amongst three others, all labeled with names and facing him. he stands there for a second, hands crossed over his chest as he scans every picture.

"we just need to know who you think would be good for the next job," the casting director reiterates, his words smooth as they wrap around logan's mind.

logan doesn’t know why he’s pretending, why he's taking so long to answer a question that he knows the answer to.

he slides your picture up higher than the rest and leaves it at that.

[wonusite]

The Thing About Pretty Boys

❝ You’re convinced that pretty boy Seonghwa could never fuck anyone stupid. He decides to prove you wrong. ❞

PAIRING: park seonghwa x female reader

GENRE: friends to lovers au, smut

WORD COUNT: 4k

WARNINGS: pwp, repressed feelings, overuse of the word pretty (sorry not sorry), seonghwa is HUNG, cock drunk!reader, pussy drunk!seonghwa, mentions of anal, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple creampies, backshots, squirting, dumbification, possessiveness, breeding kink, overstimulation

A/N: this has been long overdue, and i hope you guys like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“There’s no way.”

Your incredulous snort makes Seonghwa pause. He whips his head in your direction, pretty frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. You keep laughing, keeling over until your loose nightshirt starts to hang off one of your shoulders. The way you’re falling over like he said something hilarious is starting to irritate him. Like really fucking bad.

When you finally stop laughing, you notice the deep scowl your friend is directing at you. Even as he's directing a scornful glare at you, he looks unfairly pretty. The thought makes you huff out one last weak laugh. “What? Don’t give me that look.”

His jaw flexes, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “You believed fucking Mingi when he said the same thing.”

Your nonchalant shrug makes Seonghwa’s eye twitch in annoyance. He’s not offended, not exactly. It’s just the slightest bit irritating that he’s literally in your room, on your bed, alone, and you still can’t think of him in a way he desperately wants you to.

“Because it’s obvious that Mingi knows what he’s doing. Like, you can tell he’s a beast in bed.”

“And what makes you think I’m not?”

It’s weird that he’s so insistent on getting you to believe him. Seonghwa usually doesn’t care about what anyone thinks since he claims to know himself the best, so other people’s opinions don’t really matter. Apparently, he isn’t too different from all the other guys you’ve met. It’s kind of cute.

“I just— Who cares?” You splutter, suddenly feeling flustered with how he’s staring at you so intently.

“Tell me why.”

You nearly recoil in shock at how assertive and dominant Seonghwa sounds. His tone and hard eyes makes something inside you flutter with desire. Taken aback by your own indecent reaction, you clear your throat and avert your eyes back to the paused sex scene out of a movie you can't remember the name of.

If you could go back in time and pick a different movie that hadn’t started this entire thing, you would.

“Fine.” You sigh, willing yourself to calm down. “I just think that most pretty boys aren’t able to fuck anyone stupid. That’s all—it’s nothing personal.”

Oh, but it is.

To Seonghwa, who had pictured you writhing and screaming from pleasure under him way too many times to be considered normal, it’s definitely personal.

“I could fuck you stupid.”

His words hang in the air heavily. You expect him to give you that pretty, nonchalant smile of his and tell you that he’s joking. But he doesn’t. In fact, Seonghwa is looking at you with an unmistakable heat and determination in his gaze that has you feeling like prey.

“Whatever.” You force yourself to choke out a laugh, mind already wandering to what it would be like to fuck such a pretty man.

Seonghwa seems unfazed by your dismissal. He stands up from your bed before kneeling at the edge in front of where you’re sitting. You let out a shocked yelp when he grabs your bare legs and yanks you toward him. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you like he’s going to devour you.

The heat coming from his hands and just having him nestled between your legs makes your cunt throb. It’s embarrassing how fast you’re getting turned on, but you blame it on the fact that it has everything to do that Seonghwa is just so damn pretty.

“H-Hwa.” You actually fucking whimper, sounding completely needy.

“Gonna let me prove it?” He smirks, hands gently caressing your thighs that are unconsciously spreading for him.

“Fine.” You try to sound like you aren’t already soaking, horny mess. “You have to hurry, though. Sannie’s gonna be back soon.”

Seonghwa nearly growls at the mention of your clingy roommate. He trails his hands up the soft skin of your thighs and grips the edges on your panties. You let out a scandalized gasp when he literally rips them off of you. He throws them over his shoulder before flipping up your oversized shirt and exposing your hot cunt to the air.

His groan makes you clench around nothing. Before you can say anything, Seonghwa yanks you forward and smashes his face into your wet pussy. Any and all coherent thoughts are quickly ejected from your mind. You let out a small moan when you feel your friend’s tongue split through your folds, tasting you for the first time.

“Fuck.” Seonghwa moans into your cunt. “I knew you would taste good.”

His words make your brain turn into literal mush because what the fuck? Had he been thinking about what it would be like to eat you out? The mere thought has more juices spilling out of you. Your body’s reaction only spurs Seonghwa on, his hands gripping your thighs tighter and pulling you further on his mouth.

You toss your head back with a moan. All you can feel is his tongue plunging deep inside you. Every time his nose bumps against your throbbing clit, it sends jolt of pleasure up your spine.

“S-Shit, Hwa.” You whimper, hands falling to his messy hair.

Seonghwa smirks into your pussy when you start to tug on his hair. He hums against your leaking hole before latching onto your swollen nub and suckling on it with a lewd slurping sound. Your cries of pleasure sound like music to his ears, and it makes him more determined to have you begging and crying for his cock. Seonghwa is sure your moans would sound even prettier when he’s actually splitting you open with his dick.

“So good.” You mewl as he keeps sucking on your aching bud. “K-Keep doing that.”

Seonghwa starts to plant sloppy kisses on your glistening folds before dragging his tongue up your slit. He repeats the action a few times before he sucks your puffy clit back into his mouth. The sight of your face twisting in pleasure is a sight he’ll never forget. To see the object of his fantasies writhing and shaking from pleasure has his cock straining in his pants, eager to be stuffed into your cunt.

You start to grind your pussy into his face as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. His ravenous movements are like that of a starved man, and soon you feel your abdomen tighten with the need to release.

“I-I think I’m gonna come.” You moan, surprised that he managed to get you so close to an orgasm in such a short amount of time.

Seonghwa groans into your sopping cunt. “Do it, baby. Come all over my tongue. Let me taste you.”

You gasp out his name as a wave of pleasure suddenly washes over you. The tight coil in your stomach snaps as your walls become impossibly tight. Your moan is loud and wanton as you squirt all over your friend’s face.

Seonghwa’s moan sounds animalistic as he presses his tongue flat against your entrance, collecting all your sweet juices and slurping you dry. He’s practically making out with your pussy until there’s none of your addicting cream left to lap up.

“Mhm, baby. You taste so fucking good.”

You’re a trembling mess as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs before standing up, your juices covering his chin. The sight of you all fucked out because of him, makes the desire in his gut get more intense.

“Sorry.” You huff out, mind a bit more clear when you see him licking his lips. “I-I’ve– that usually doesn’t happen.”

To be exact, it’s never happened.

“I’ll forgive you.” He sounds sweet as he starts to unbuckle his belt. Seonghwa pulls his shirt off before pulling his pants down until he’s left in only his underwear, impressive bulge standing out. “But only if you do it again—on my cock this time.”

You can’t be mad that he looks so smug because he’s just so fucking pretty. He becomes even more attractive after sliding his underwear off and letting his big cock slap against his lower abdomen. The large organ is intimidatingly long and thick as it throbs and leaks with precum. Your mouth waters, and you can’t be surprised that his cock is a pretty as he is.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to admire it for too long because Seonghwa grabs you and flips you around. You’re propped up on your elbows and knees to support your weight, large shirt bunching at your waist as he arches your back to the angle he wants.

Seonghwa licks his lips as he squeezes and caresses your ass, leaking cock throbbing at the pretty sight of you all ready to get fucked. This is way better than any of his fantasies, and he hopes that this is only the first time of many.

“Such a pretty ass. Maybe you’ll let me fuck it next time.” His sultry voice has you dripping in desperation. “But for now, let’s see how much you can handle, baby.”

A needy, pathetic mewl tumbles out of you as Seonghwa presses his oozing tip against your entrance. He rubs and taps it against your folds, enjoying how you’re desperately rutting your hips back. Just minutes ago you were adamant that he wasn’t capable of getting this sort of reaction.

Your mouth drops open in pleasure when he slowly eases his cock into you. “O-Oh, fuck.” Your moan is weak as your eyes slowly close.

Seonghwa looks down to where his fat cock is pushing into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your pretty cunt as his. The sight is mesmerising, and he can’t stop the deep moan he lets out from it. His cock throbs wildly as he finally bottoms out. You’re so hot and tight that he might actually blow his load before he even gets the chance to fuck you properly.

His cock is hitting your deepest spot, and you let out a wanton moan as you tightly grip your sheets. “Fuck me!”

A carnal desire takes over Seonghwa when he hears your needy cry. He’s never been able to deny you anything, and he doesn’t plan to start now. Immediately, he begins to pummel in and out of you, fucking your sopping cunt roughly. Obscene noises fill the room as his pelvis slams against your ass.

Seonghwa can’t take his eyes off your pretty little pussy and how it swallows his cock so perfectly. His heavy balls are being stained with your arousal as they slap against your puffy clit. He becomes more ravenous with every rough thrust.

“You’re already soaking my cock, baby. I fucking knew you wouldn’t be able to get enough.” He grunts as he grabs your hips, quickly growing obsessed with how you feel around him.

It's true, and you can't deny it. Not that you want to. His cock is stretching you out so good that you can’t think straight.

“So fucking good.” You mewl as you deepen your arch so he can fuck you deeper.

One of Seonghwa’s hands trails down your body to squeeze your ass while the other goes around your waist to rub your sensitive clit. He pounds into you harder, loving the cries and whimpers you’re letting out every time he fucks his cock into your juicy cunt. You’re throwing yourself back on him to meet his thrusts, loving how his big cock splits you open with every snap of his hips.

“Gonna ruin this sweet little pussy so only I fit.” Seonghwa growls, spanking your ass harshly.

His words make you clench on his cock and coat it with more of your cream. You whine and cry out for him, already feeling any thoughts that aren’t about his big dick being fucked out of you. His hips start to snap with a rough precision you claimed he wasn’t capable of, and you wonder how longer it’ll take him to realize that he already proved you wrong.

Seonghwa feels your cunt start to tighten around his cock like it doesn’t want to let go. With the way you’re starting to tremble, he can tell you’re close to falling apart. But he wants to see your face when you do. It’s the thing he’s wanted the most since he met you.

You cry out in protest when Seonghwa abruptly pulls out his hard cock of your pussy. Before you can beg him to put it back in, he’s flipping you on your back. He gently caresses your shaking thighs with a heated gaze. Then, he’s removing the big shirt you have on, dark eyes taking in every inch of your exposed body.

“Hwa.” You plead through a needy mewl. “Don’t tease.”

The look on your face makes his cock throb painfully. You look absolutely fucked out, and to think he hasn’t even made you come yet. Seonghwa licks his lips and teases your soaking entrance with his leaking tip. His smirk is deviant, but so hot that all you can do is buck your hips desperately. Unlike your initial thoughts, your friend doesn’t make you wait.

It’s satisfying how Seonghwa’s jaw snaps open as he watches your pretty pussy slowly get filled with his thick cock. The erotic sight drives him to start fucking into you again. He lets out a deep groan when he sees your cream coat his entire length as you squeeze him tighter than anyone ever has.

Pleasure consumes you and licks up your entire body as Seonghwa pounds his cock into your hot cunt. Your moans turn into loud cries that mix into the lewd squelching coming from where you two are connected when he presses your legs to your chest. The new position allows him to fuck into you deeper than before.

All coherent thoughts are slowly dissipating every time his cock pounds against your sweet spot. A carnal desire takes over and has you begging for more through broken whimpers. “Fuh-Fuck. Fill me up, Hwa.”

The moan Seonghwa lets out is as pretty as he is. Your wanton pleas trigger something primal inside of him, and he feels himself going feral at the thought of breeding you.

“You want my cum, baby?” He coos sweetly, heavy balls slapping against your ass in sync with your wanton moans.

It’s embarrassing how fast you nod, back arching as you feel a wave of pleasure start to consume you. His cock is throbbing inside you, and all you can think about is milking him for all that he’s worth. “Want it so bad!”

“Fuck.” Seonghwa sucks in a sharp breath. “Pretty little pussy’s so tight for me.”

Your filthy moans are quickly stifled when Seonghwa bends down to kiss you. His movements are passionate and desperate, teeth tugging at your bottom lips. It feels like your brain has turned into static with all the euphoric sensations consuming you. All you can focus on is his cock splitting you open and the sounds of your skin slapping against his.

When Seonghwa pulls back, he maintains eye contact. As you stare into his eyes, you can see that they’re filled with an emotion that goes beyond lust and arousal. It makes your heart pound for an entirely different reason. His gentle stare is a great contrast to the rough snap of his hips.

That affectionate look is all it takes for you to squirt all over your friend once again. Your cry is loud as you cover his abdomen with your orgasm.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Make a mess all over me.” Seonghwa moans as he watches you go dumb on his cock.

The sight of your pretty face slack with pleasure has him fucking into your cervix savagely. Your cunt is gripping his cock so tightly that it doesn’t take long for him to release his thick load inside you. His thrusts grow sloppy as he starts to fill you with ropes of cum. Your soppy cunt is overflowing with so much of his seed that it bubbles around the base of his cock and leaks down to your ass—a filthy sight Seonghwa will never forget.

You’re both panting as he slowly lets go of your legs. Seonghwa watches you carefully, but doesn’t make a move to pull out of you. He wants to keep you plugged and full of his cum, and by how you slowly wrap your legs around his waist, it seems like you feel the same way.

When you come back to your senses, you nervously lick your lips when you see Seonghwa’s smirk. “What?”

“You’re a squirter?” His words sound teasing.

“N-No.” You pant out, unsure of how to tell him he’s the only one capable of evoking such a reaction from your body.

Apparently, your friend only sees this as another one of your challenges. He caresses your soft thighs as a challenging look crosses his face.

“Do it again.”

Seonghwa starts to move again, his aching cock sliding against your walls with ease as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. He unhooks your legs from his waist so he can place them on his shoulders. From this angle he can see your filthy cunt being split open on his thick cock.

“I can’t.” You manage to moan out, loving how his dick drags against your velvety walls with precision. “God, Hwa. I-It’s too much.”

“You say that, but your pretty little pussy keeps squeezing my cock like it doesn’t want to let go.” He says as his thumb starts to rub slow circles on your throbbing clit. “I’m sure you can squirt for me again if I give you another load, hm?”

Seonghwa’s smirk is cocky when he feels your cunt tighten around him again. He loves how you don’t deny it. In fact, you whine out a quiet more as he continues to fuck you. His thumb is still stimulating your puffy bud as his hips snap into you. Clearly, your friend is enjoying fucking you to the point of delirium. You can’t complain because you’re enjoying it just as much.

“Tight little cunt was made to take my cock.” He grunts as his eyes start to roll to the back of his head.

You can’t fathom how it feels like he knows your body more than you do. His cock keeps ramming against your g-spot, and all you can do is let out moans and mewls of pleasure. You’re sure it won’t be long until you come again.

A ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock and slowly drips down his balls and on to the sheets. Seonghwa knows you won’t ever be able to forget how good he’s fucked you, and he also knows that he’s potentially ruined you for any other man. Not that he would let you go after feeling your pussy.

“God, baby. Your sweet pussy’s already gonna make me come again.” Seonghwa groans, thrusts becoming tougher and sharper. “Gonna let me come inside again?”

“Yes!” You squeal, already gone dumb again. “Come inside me!”

The overstimulation has lewd and filthy sounds coming out of you, but you can’t help it. Especially not when you look down and see how his big cock is piercing into your tight cunt. You gasp and jolt as he continues to ram into you like you’re nothing more than a hole. Your legs start to tremble as your third orgasm abruptly hits you.

Like the two previous times, your toes curl as you uncontrollably squirt on his cock.

“Such a good girl.” Seonghwa praises you with his pretty smile. “Here’s your reward.”

He slams into you a few more time before he spills his thick seed inside you, filling you to the brim. Your eyes roll back as your pussy contracts around Seonghwa’s pulsing cock. The feeling of his hot cum filling your insides is so fucking good that all you can do is mewl his name weakly and pathetically. It feels like your mind is clouded with a euphoric haze preventing you from thinking straight.

Soon, Seonghwa pulls out of your creamy cunt, his cum dripping out of you and staining the sheets beneath you. His eyes darken at the sight of your sensitive folds covered with his seed. A low growl builds in his chest as he swoops down to smash his lips on to yours. You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss.

When he pulls away from you, he gives you another lascivious smirk. “We’re not done yet, baby.”

It shouldn’t excite you this much that he’s not done. You’re literally dripping with his cum, but you still want more. His hard, throbbing cock is resting against your sloppy pussy, and you start to gyrate your hips to get him to fuck you again. Maybe you’re already addicted, but it doesn’t matter because Seonghwa seems to feel the exact same way.

A quiet moan rips from your throat when he starts to fuck his cock between your messy lips. You cry out from the sensation, still sensitive from the other orgasms he’s ripped out of you. Slowly and teasingly, Seonghwa drags the tip of his fat cock down to your entrance, moaning when more of his cum seeps out of you. The sight is something he’ll never forget and always try to recreate.

The noises you let out are so cute and needy that they make his cock throb painfully. Seonghwa slowly eases into you for a third time, base of his heavy cock touching your core and big balls resting against your ass. Your pussy is pulsing around him as you leak with your mixed releases.

You can feel Seonghwa’s cock so deep inside you that it’s dizzying and almost comparible to being drunk. Vaguely, you think this is what it must be like to be cockdrunk.

“So fucking pretty. All for me.” Seonghwa groans hotly.

The breath is almost knocked out of you as he drags his dick back before ramming it back into the depths of your wet pussy. He begins to pound into you, the sound of skin on skin quickly filling the room.

Seonghwa stares down at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to memorize every aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he spears his big cock into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him, and he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

“S-Seonghwa!” You squeal, toes curling and limbs starting to tremble.

The familiar sensation gets worse as your friend continues to fuck into your guts, stroking your walls with his thick cock. He’s slamming into your sweet spot with a savage like pace that you know it won’t be long before you fall apart again.

“That’s it, baby. Cream all over my cock.” Seonghwa groans as you mewl at his filthy words.

As if his voice and words are a trigger, your body starts to react. His harsh thrusts make you start to convulse, effectively soaking his cock. As if it’s all you’re capable of giving him, you weakly come on his aching dick with a choked moan. Your tits are bouncing with every thrust, body twitching as Seonghwa roughly fucks you through your orgasm.

“Want your cum.” You mewl, and Seonghwa simply begins to fuck you quicker.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna pump you full until you’re leaking with my cum for days.” Seonghwa promises through possessive growls as he sloppily fucks into your soiled cunt.

Seonghwa suddenly stills deep inside your pussy, spilling his hot seed inside of you. Thick, white ropes of cum paint your walls until it leaves his cock dripping. He nearly slumps on top of you, but then he rolls over and onto his back, taking you with him. His cock stays inside you, keeping you plugged with his many loads.

“How are you feeling?” The soft voice you recognize is back as Seonghwa gently caresses your naked back.

You sigh into his neck, feeling completely sated. “Full.”

His pretty laugh makes you smile, and you can’t help but think that Mingi was right when he told you that thing about pretty boys.