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“I love you so much.”
Chance murmurs softly, his voice faltering, his hand wavering slightly as he speaks. He reaches out for Mafioso's face, gently tracing the back of his fingers along his jaw, almost trying to reassure himself that this is real—that this moment isn't just another dream, or another one of cruel hallucinations. His shoulders shudder under the unbearable weight of his admission—how can he dare to love someone ever again—yet he leans forward, closing the distance with a frantic urgency.
“I love you too,” Mafioso whispers back, his words hushed—it feels intimate almost, a declaration meant only for Chance’s ears. His breath is warm against his skin, and the heat makes him shiver. Chance threads his fingers possessively into Mafioso’s hair, pulling him closer with an insatiable need—he's desperate to erase every inch of space between them.
“Please... kiss me."
Without hesitation, Mafioso presses his lips against Chance’s, capturing him in an open-mouthed kiss—hungry, ravenous, and passionate, like a man starved beyond reason, drowning in his embrace. Chance stiffens initially, and his breath catches in his throat. His hands clutch at Mafioso's blouse tightly, almost afraid to let go. But eventually, the resistance fades, and his fingers creep higher, tangling themselves in Mafioso’s hair. They tug him deeper, closer to the brink, until his lips part willingly, helpless against everything. The kiss swallows him whole, consuming him entirely.
The heat and intensity of it begins to overwhelm him, and he gasps. He shudders almost violently, the air in his lungs stolen away. His nails rake across Mafioso’s chest through the thin fabric, clinging onto him tightly. He's unsure whether he’s pleading to be held closer or begging to be torn apart, and the faint metallic tang of blood on his tongue makes him ache with an unbearable mix of desire and pain.
If you had never come into my life, perhaps I wouldn’t be this broken. But there’s something intoxicating in the chaos you bring—it is both curse and salvation, a blessing in disguise. You are the addiction I cannot resist—so, so cruel, yet irresistible in its sweetness. To be ruined by you, torn apart and remade, all yours for the taking…
This is what I want. All this time, I have been waiting, yearning for someone like you—I need you to fix me. To help me become whole once more.
"All this, just for me? You're too kind."
With that, Mafioso bites down sharply on Chance’s lower lip, the sting causing him to flinch and let out a choked, involuntary sound. But despite the pain, Chance doesn’t pull away. Instead, he presses down, driven by a desperate need to please them, to be good. He doesn't want them to leave—he can't let them abandon him. He pulls them closer, needing him everywhere at once, every inch of him trembling. Every nerve in his body shivers violently, and he parts his lips further, surrendering fully, letting Mafioso claim him entirely. His tongue moves clumsily at first, unsure, before becoming frantic, almost greedy—matching up exactly to the relentless rhythm that Mafioso imposes upon him.
Please don’t stop. I need you so badly.
I need you to love me, so I never have to love myself. So I can pretend I am loved, that I am complete—because you make me feel whole. Use me again, and again. Say you love me, so I won't forget. Say it until it’s the only thing I can think of, the only thing I remember. You are the only one who understands me, who sees me for who I really am. The only one who still loves me despite it all, a comforting presence in my torment.
You love me. You need me. I am your everything.
I know that you're no good for me. But… that’s what I like. Your lies, they always make me feel better. Even when I know you only tell it to me to make me happy, to keep me trapped in your hand. I should hate you, and despise you dearly—yet I keep coming back, because I know you are the only one who will love me, even with all of my flaws. And I need you to love me. I crave for your affection. I will do anything, everything for you.
The kiss stretches on, rough and relentless, leaving Chance dizzy, almost lightheaded, drunk on the sensation of being loved. He gasps between broken kisses, swallowing the sharp tang of blood and the heat radiating from Mafioso, chasing his mouth again and again, desperate, starving, because he knows no amount of affection will ever suffice. His chest presses against Mafioso’s, body arching, a silent, trembling plea to erase every inch of distance between them until he cannot tell where it ends, and where their love began.
"God, you're so..."
Mafioso’s hand grips his jaw, his thumb pressing with a cruel insistence, forcing Chance’s mouth open further. Chance doesn't resist, instead, he lets himself become unravelled, undone by their touch. His lips are bloodied and bruised, yet he still holds on, unwilling to let go. Mafioso then sinks his teeth into Chance’s neck, and the cruel pressure breaks his composure. Chance arches helplessly, groaning against him. His hands claw at Mafioso’s back through the fabric, nails raking into his skin, clinging tighter. The pain and pleasure start to intertwine, overwhelming his senses entirely.
Every moment—every second, every touch—it is a reminder he is alive, that he is wanted, that he is seen. It is a plea, a confession of every single terrible thing he's ever wanted—to be loved. Mafioso kisses him over and over again, and Chance accepts it willingly, loving every bit of their affection. With every press of their lips, every scrape of his nails, every shared flicker of heat, it becomes a frantic, hopeless attempt to hold onto the only person that gives his existence meaning.
When Chance finally pulls back to catch his breath, his lips are marred with blood. He looks up to gaze into Mafioso's eyes—there's a glint of something cruel, something satisfied. Their hands are already on him again, pressing him down, dragging him back into the storm of desire. Yet Chance hesitates—now, he’s utterly breathless and worn out. He leans into their chest, his body shaking uncontrollably.
“Please, say it again. Tell me you love me. I need to hear it… Please," he whispers, his voice beginning to break. His eyes glimmer with unshed tears, all threatening to spill.
Please, I need you to love me. Say you will, for all of eternity.
Mafioso hesitates, and a moment of silence passes. His fingers tremble slightly as they hover above him. Then, finally, he cups their face gently, holding them steady—a comfort against the storm raging in his mind. “Okay… I love you, Chance.”
With that, his eyes flutter shut, satisfied. Mafioso kisses him once more, and Chance shivers—it's a confession of how much he both loathes and needs this unbearable, consuming touch. A warmth floods his chest, and his nails dig deeper into their back, unable to let go.
I want to hear you say it again, over and over, until it fills my mind entirely, consuming every thought. I want it to become all that I know, so it can drown out the lies I desperately cling to. I need your affection, your attention, so I never have to love myself. All this time, all I have ever needed was you. I want to be yours, always. And this love you give me... it’s never enough. While every lie is a fleeting comfort, a temporary solace, it's barely enough to satisfy me now—I wish I could be yours. Forever.
Before he knows it, a tear slips down Chance's cheek. He touches it, startled by the sudden warmth. Mafioso’s hand cradles his face gently, and his thumb brushes the tear away in a slow, gentle motion. His other hand moves to rest on Chance’s back, pulling him closer, almost controlling in its nature.
“What’s wrong, my love?" Mafioso asks, his words laced with concern. He meets Chance's gaze, his eyes wide and searching.
Chance shakes his head slightly, and he opens his mouth, but no words come out—he doesn't even trust his own voice to speak. "It's... nothing. I'm sorry."
Mafioso's looks of concern fades, vanishing into something indiscernible. He smiles, sickly sweet, and his eyes narrow with a quiet intensity. "You can tell me anything, you know? Anything at all.”
And just like the fool he always is, he falls for it all the same. He lets his guard down.
Chance's lips quiver, and his chest feels tight, wracked with a grief he knows he cannot name. His hands curl around the edges of the fabric, grasping at the seams, longing for something tangible to hold onto. "I'm... scared. You can't leave me, please—"
You can't leave me here, just like what everyone else did.
Mafioso tilts his head slightly, and he regards Chance almost coldly, a cruelty in his gaze. He reaches out for their face, then wipes away the blood from the earlier bite. “I'm not going anywhere."
Chance nods slowly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He grips Mafioso’s blouse tighter now, and his hands begin to shake, his fingers digging into their skin. "You have to promise me. Please."
Mafioso leans closer, their lips brushing his ear. His warm breath sends shivers down Chance’s spine, and his arms tighten around his waist in a protective, yet possessive grip. “I won’t. I won’t ever leave you... I promise,” he murmurs, his voice low as he caresses their face. But beneath it lies something else, something darker than even Chance himself can sense. It’s no comfort at all—there’s a shadow hidden underneath, an emotion he knows all too well. Fear.
You're mine. Forever.
“...thank you," Chance finally whispers, before burying his face into their chest. He holds onto them desperately, seeking every ounce of warmth and security. A broken cry escapes his lips, and each and every one of his breaths come out as a ragged plea.
And I wish I could believe you... But I already know the truth.
Do you really want to know what I’m afraid of...?
I’m scared you’ll leave. And when you go, I won’t know how to continue living without you. Every single thing I’ve done—it was all for you, and you only. I did everything for you. Every breath, every effort I make—all of my thoughts, it’s already been stolen away by you. Even my heart... It's all gone. I've been hurt once, with my affection bleeding out in the silence. I'm afraid of this love itself—to open up, to be vulnerable—the notion haunts me, every waking moment. I dare not trust you, lest you ruin me again, just as in that betrayal all those years ago. I am terrified of being left behind once more—abandoned and alone, left to drown in this hollow, aching affection.
And worst of all… I know you lie. Those teeth of yours, they hide every truth. Those lips, they utter only falsehoods, whispering deceit with every word—you speak with no honesty. Why must you continue to hurt me like this? Why do you force me to drown in your lies, to ache for a truth that will never come?
But... it’s better this way, isn’t it? This pretense, you not knowing I know the truth—that I know it’s all a lie. And yet I can’t help myself but believe in that sickeningly sweet lie. I know that someday, you’ll be like everyone else—you'll discard me aside, and finally leave me. But until then… I don’t care. I want to stay here, with you, and pretend that everything will be okay, even if I know it's not. And this? This might be the best damned decision I’ll ever make.
Honestly, I'm terrified—I don't want you to leave. If you do, I won't know how to live, how to breathe without you here. Do you even love me, like how I love you? Every single thing I’ve done, everything I am, it was all meant for you. I know this is only a game to you, but... I still can’t let go. I crave the contentment this lie gives me, this illusion that fills the void in my heart, because it’s the only thing keeping me alive, even as the world starts to end.
And with that, Chance crumbles completely. His sobs wrack his body, violent and unrelenting, and his tears soak through Mafioso’s blouse. In his arms, Chance lets himself fall apart, surrendering fully to the fragile comfort he finds in their embrace. He comes undone, and he lets himself linger in their warmth. He doesn’t dare meet Mafioso’s eyes—he's afraid that looking up might shatter this fragile illusion. Mafioso simply holds him tighter, whispering soft, sweet nothings—words he knows could never last. And yet, Chance accepts them anyway, he clings onto them like they're a lifeline—they are the one and only truth he dares to accept as reality, the final lie he can burden himself to bear.
I just wish someone could love me like you. This endless craving, this helpless longing—you alone satisfy it. Time and time again, you hurt me by tearing me into pieces, forcing me into an object of your desire. Still, I yearn for your touch, and I continue to long for a sliver of your twisted affection. No matter what, I will always be yours to take, forever yours to use. And even as you ruin me...
I want you.