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moni-logues · 2 months

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A Simple Favour

Pairing: Changbin x named reader (afab, she/her)

Genre: fake dating, friends-to-lovers, smut

Summary: Your temper got the better of you and you lied to your sister. Rather than coming clean, you get your best friend playing pretend, too.

Word count: 21.5k 💀

Content: fingering, protected sex, discussion about sex toys, some very uh, unshowered sex lol, reader is called Miki (Mikyong)

A/N: ahhhghheghhef my longest ever one-shot and first ever fake-dating fic is here!!!! And it's BINNIE!!!! this all started with this post and I truly never had any intention of turning any of them into proper fics. But then.... but then I honestly couldn't stop thinking about this Changbin and so I wrote a scene and then another, and then another and suddenly, it was happening! I HAVE given reader a name, because it's frankly annoying af to not be able to call your reader anything and I don't like using 'y/n' lol so hope that is ok with y'all hahah

Thank you to @minisugakoobies for beta-ing and @violetsiren90 for all the sprinting and enthusiasm!!!!!!!!!

* * *

“I need to ask you a favour.”

“Yeah, ok, sure.”

“No, no, I need you to hear what it is first.”

You sat down next to Changbin on the sofa and it was only then that he started looking as if he was paying attention.

“Ok...”

“I need you to be my boyfriend.”

Changbin was out of his seat before the word had come to an end.

“What?!”

“Not really!” you cried, immediately standing up again, hands raised, trying to placate him. “I just need you to pretend to be!”

“What?!”

You groaned loudly and tipped your head back to shout at the ceiling. Then you motioned for him to please return to his seat so you could explain.

“I... may... have... toldmysisterthatwe’retogether.”

He was on his feet again, roaring.

“WHAT?!”

“It’s not my fault, ok?! You know how annoying she is!!!! She won’t stop going on about how we act like a couple and how we’d be good together and why don’t we just get together and don’t I see and no one else wants to go out with me anyway, what, do I think I could do better and I just fucking snapped!” You gripped him hard on the arms and stared, wide-eyed and grimacing at him. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” you told him through gritted teeth. “I snapped. I told her we were already dating but trying to keep it quiet until we knew if it was going anywhere.”

Changbin did exactly as you had not a minute before: looked skyward and groaned all too loudly at the ceiling of your apartment.

“So you mean to say that your sister now thinks we’re a couple?”

“Yeah... and I mean, Chan, too, obviously. He was there.”

Changbin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You mean my best friend Chan?”

“Hey! I’m your best friend!”

“Not anymore!”

He took a few steps away from you and shook his head, shook out his arms, rolled his shoulders. You did not know if you would be able to convince him to go along with your charade. It wouldn’t have to be forever, not even for long; you just had to find a way to back out of it that left both your names untarnished. Couldn't be that hard, right?

“Please, Binnie,” you began, tone softer now, sweeter, pleading just a little. “I know, I suck. But my sister sucks more and I really just want to get her off my back for a bit and I promise I will sort it out. I promise I’ll let us break-up quickly and you’ll come out smelling of roses! But please, please back me up on this.”

He turned around, looking at you seriously.

“What exactly is involved?”

“Well, y’know, if Chan asks about it or something, just... go along with the lie. You don’t have to do anything really.”

“Except for the lying and deceit and stuff.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause in which Changbin stood, staring out of the window, hands on his hips, deliberating. Then he turned sharply to look at you.

“I have a date tonight. Can we start tomorrow?”

You inhaled sharply through your teeth, eyes shut tight.

“Nope!”

You winked an eye open to see how he’d react. There was outrage on his face.

“What do you mean ‘no’?!”

“You can’t go on a date with someone else if we’re together!! What if someone sees you?”

He shouted again at the ceiling.

“I was going to get laid tonight!”

“Sorry!”

You cowered, made yourself as small as possible, watching him as he nevertheless unlocked his phone and fired off a quick cancellation text.

“I’m going to make you pay for this, you know,” he told you as he typed.

“I know. I deserve it.”

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll do it.” Then he flopped back onto the sofa and patted the seat next to him. “But to be absolutely clear, I am not going to your stupid family lunches.”

“Actually...”

You were at your stupid family lunch. You had been going to Sunday lunch with your family for what felt like forever. At first, you and your sister schlepped way too far outside the city to your parents’ house, but now your sister hosted. Your sister and her husband, who just so happened to be best friends with your best friend. Why did the world have to be so small?

This time, your boyfriend was here, too. Sorry, your ‘boyfriend.’ It had taken a thousand favours owed and promises of future gifts made, but Changbin finally agreed to come, and you had agreed the rules for this deception:

1. You and Changbin had been dating for a ‘few weeks’ (since you got drunk at the river and decided to say ‘fuck it why not?’ to the whole thing).

2. You made the first move.

3. When in public together, you would always be prepared to act like a couple, should you run into anyone you knew.

4. Changbin would lead and you would ‘yes, and’ him, no questions asked.

5. Absolutely no dating other people, just in case.

6. It was your job to find a way to end it that made both of you look good – or at the very least, made Changbin look good.

7. No one—and that meant no one—else could know that it wasn’t real.

Just as you were walking up to your sister’s front door, Changbin added another: you would give him servings of everything first – including seconds and thirds, even if they came from your own plate. He knew your mum and sister cooked well and he was going to enjoy at least some part of this afternoon. You felt you had no choice but to agree.

“Hello,” you called as you entered your sister’s house, without enthusiasm.

You had been dreading this since the second the words had left your mouth the previous week. You could have just not lied; you didn’t have to have said that you and Changbin were dating; you could have controlled your temper even a little and not have got yourself in this predicament. You could even have swallowed your pride and embarrassment and told your sister it was a lie, that you had said it to try to shut her up. It wasn’t like it would’ve been the first time you’d told her how annoying she was.

But you hadn’t. You had lied and now you were sticking to the lie and Changbin was fully involved (if not invested) and you were about to spend an afternoon pretending to like him.

You liked him fine, as a friend. You liked him a lot, even, as a friend. But he wasn’t That Guy to you. He’d never elicited so much as a single butterfly in your stomach. Not a flitter of a wing or twitch of an antenna. He was just Binnie. And you knew he felt the very same about you.

“Finally,” your sister said by way of a greeting as she came down the stairs. “You’re late-”

“No, we aren’t,” you snapped back, fully prepared to argue further but the look on your sister’s face took you by surprise.

She was surprised.

“Oh, Changbin! I didn’t know you were coming.”

There was a sly smile on her lips as if there was a joke you weren’t in on, but you didn’t have capacity to be annoyed by that; you were waiting with bated breath to see what Changbin would do.

“Hi, Hanbyeol,” he said, as polite and charming as he might ever have been. “Miki said she told you I was coming. I hope it’s alright I’m here.”

“Of course it is! The more the merrier, right?”

She winked at you as she walked past into the kitchen, and you rolled your eyes.

“Absolutely!” Changbin responded, following her, grabbing your hand and tugging you along, too.

This was going to be a very long afternoon.

The very longest afternoon of your life. When Changbin had made you promise to ‘yes, and’ him, you had thought he meant go along with his concocted story of your first date or something.

You hadn’t expected... whatever the hell it was he was doing.

The first time he called you ‘baby,’ you literally, physically flinched and had to try very hard not to scowl. The second time, the only thing that might have given you away was the flare of your nostrils. The third time, you dragged him off away from everyone to hiss viciously at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What?” he asked, with as much innocence on his face as he could muster.

“Calling me fucking ‘baby?’ Why? Why would you do that?”

“Aren’t you my baby?”

“For fuck’s sake, Binnie! NO, you know I am not! What are you doing?”

“You said I could play this however I liked and you also said I wouldn’t have to do anything but here I am, in your sister’s house, performing my perfect little tush off to keep your lie intact! So suck it up, baby: this is how Changbinnie dates!”

You rolled your eyes and swore under your breath once more.

“So you mean to say that you’re going to make this as painfully cringe-worthy as possible and embarrass us both?”

“Both? Oh, I’m not embarrassed!”

He didn’t wait for your comeback to that one and strode back into the kitchen, leaving you quietly seething but not yet regretting sticking to your lie. You could cope with an afternoon of this.

Which is what you thought until you actually sat down to eat and Changbin made you stick to your word and serve him first. It was almost impossible to do it with a smile on your face – you were sure you resembled some kind of grotesque, with a rictus grin and clenched teeth – but you did your best. You really tried to be sweet to him, to pretend to care that he got the best cuts and biggest pieces of meat, that you were happy for him to take the last dumpling from your plate.

You were sweating from the effort of it. You have never wanted to leave your sister’s house more. You felt suffocated. Hot. Uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Your parents were there; they also had to think it was real and you hadn’t considered the implications of him meeting the parents until it was too late. Suddenly, this felt serious.

You had thought it would be easy pretending that you and Changbin were together because... well, you did spend a lot of your time together as it was. You were close. You were so close that it was what got you into this mess in the first place! If you already acted enough like a couple for your sister (who barely ever saw past her own nose) to see it, then the job was already done – you had thought.

You had underestimated Changbin. Of course you had. His mischief, his love of performance, his inability to not do something that he knew would stitch you up in some manner. They all combined into what was sure to become your absolute worst nightmare and there was no one to blame but yourself.

You were just going to have to find a way out of it and quick.

* * *

“Changbin! How nice to see you again!” Hanbyeol crowed the next week when you dragged him along for a second time.

“Of course! The food last week was so good, Hanbyeol, I had to come.”

She actually blushed.

“Please, Changbin, call me Hani.”

You rolled your eyes; she was too easily flattered and Changbin was a little shit.

You hadn’t planned to make him come again. You would have preferred that he didn’t. But... Well, your sister just knew how to press your buttons. She had expressed her surprise at your apparently real relationship with Changbin, even uttering the words ‘I didn’t really believe you.’ She had then proceeded to lecture you on how to behave in a relationship and warn you of all your ‘usual tricks’ that apparently kept romantic partners away. You had been so thoroughly goaded that you had hung up on her and immediately dialled Changbin, telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he was ‘coming next week even if I have to kill you and drag you there.’

He had put up a fight, but the food really had been that good (your sister had many flaws, but cooking was not one of them) and he let his arm be twisted in far less time than before.

He behaved in much the same way as he had but, this time, you were prepared for it. You had braced yourself. You even managed a real smile at Changbin at the dinner table, despite the fact that he, once again, ate the last dumpling from your plate. He didn’t up his game or do anything more to try to embarrass you this time – perhaps he hadn’t expected your quick adjustment; he had overestimated your temper – but you were glad for this. You had to admit (for a microsecond only) that he might actually be a good boyfriend.

Neither of you had had any serious relationships in the time you’d been friends. When you met, your relationship was in the middle of a breakdown and your ex had moved out before you and Changbin had become firm friends. Changbin had dated, a lot, but none of them seemed to stick. Sometimes, he was sad about it; he would show up at your door with ice cream and his favourite blanket (yes, really) and you would coax the story out of him, trying not to press too hard on his bruised pride, his wounded heart. Sometimes, he chucked them before it got that far.

You’d actually not really spoken about relationships all that much. You assumed Changbin didn’t want anything serious because he never had it. You assumed that he assumed you wanted to be single because you (mostly) were. You shared horror stories from occasional bad dates and Changbin sometimes made you pick out his outfits, but you didn’t talk about them. You didn’t talk about your fantasies and dreams, your ideal partners, ideal relationships; you didn’t talk about how much you really did want to have one. You weren’t single because you didn’t want a relationship; you were single because you didn’t know where to find one.

You had burnt out on the apps in double-quick time and weren’t really sure where else to find anyone. You would never take up your sister’s offer to set you up, which might honestly have been cutting your nose off to spite your face because you did like Chan and she was happily married to him, but there was simply no way you would ever have been able to live with her smug self-satisfaction if she had been the one to introduce you to a life partner. And that left you with very few other options.

* * *

Having a fake boyfriend—who was your best friend at that—turned out to be quite a lot of fun. You did all the same things you usually did, plus handholding when in public and tolerating whatever cutesy baby-talk Changbin threw at you during your family lunches. That was easy.

Your friends were outraged when you told them. Not because they opposed the union but because you hadn’t told them before. They went back through your friendship with a fine-toothed comb, pointing out signs and hints that they had known ‘all along’ that you were into each other.

There were no signs. There were no hints. Because you weren’t into each other. But you let them have their fun because it helped sell the lie you were trying to peddle.

* * *

“Sister,” your sister began, on the phone to you almost two weeks after your second lunch.

“What, sister?” you replied, already unamused.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Hani. She just... rubbed you the wrong way. A lot.

“You and Changbin should come on a double date with us.”

“What?”

“A double date. Me and Channie; you and Changbin.”

“Ugh.”

You didn’t have a much more articulate response than that. Really? Why? Why did she always have to suggest these things? Why did she need to be so nosy? So many of the thoughts that stuck in your brain when it came to your sister began with the word: why.

“Why?” you asked, already trying to think of excuses not to go.

“What do you mean why? It’d be perfect! Channie and Changbin are friends; you and I are sisters; we all already know each other! You’re always such a spoilsport!”

“But Binn- Changbin and I have already been for lunch twice; that’s basically the same.”

You had stopped referring to him as Binnie since you had starting ‘dating’ him. You had deliberately not thought about why that was.

“It’s not the same at all! Lunch is casual and boring! Our parents are there! We should go on a real date, have some fun!”

“Maybe your relationship needs a fun injection but mine doesn’t.”

You could see her rolling her eyes, hear the stomp of her foot on the floor.

“Kim Mikyong,” your sister said and needed to say no more. When she full-named you, you knew it meant she wasn’t taking no for an answer, and you had given up fighting her on it because she showed surprising restraint in using it.

You sighed.

“When do you want to go?”

“Ah! Perfect! I’ll ask Channie and get him and Changbin to set it up! It’s going to be so much fun!”

She hung up without bothering to say goodbye and you looked at the phone in displeasure. You didn’t even know if Changbin would agree to it. It had taken so much coaxing to get him to lunch.

And this was going to be so much worse.

But you’d been wrong before.

Changbin lived two floors above you and, shortly before half-six, he was knocking at your door to pick you up for your date—your double date.

You opened the door and surprise swallowed your greeting. He looked good. He looked like he’d put effort in. You remembered the outfit from one of the times he’d asked your advice; he’d worn this outfit on a date before. Your first instinct was to be peeved that he was recycling an outfit for your date. Then you remembered that you were only pretending to be together. And then you thought, actually, that maybe it was sweet he had put together a Date Outfit for the occasion.

You’d put on a dress and everything, too.

“You look nice,” he said, still standing in your doorway.

“Thank you,” you replied sincerely. “So do you.”

It was quiet in the lift as you descended, and you jumped a little when Changbin took your hand as you left the building. He looked at you, quizzical.

“Sorry, just forgot what we were doing for a second.”

“Hey, I’m happy not to hold your hand, but this was your rule.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine; it’s good. I mean, we should. It’s safer. We should. I just- I just forgot; surprised me.”

You squeezed his hand in yours, because it was there to squeeze, and you realised you felt nervous. Your sister had been right: this was different. Lunch was casual. This wasn’t. You tried to remember how your sister had previously acted on double dates, but she hadn’t been able to get you on one since you were with your ex and that was a long time ago now.

You wondered how Changbin would act. He had been so keen to play the game and embarrass you up until now; would tonight be the same? He seemed normal so far, but he didn’t have his audience yet. And everyone was still sober.

Your sister cooed and stretched across the table to you and Changbin, grabbing your hand and his forearm and giving a squeeze.

“Oh, I’m just so happy!” she exclaimed, and you could tell by the way she scrunched her nose as she smiled that she was in one drink too deep. “I want you two to be so happy! Aren’t they happy, Channie?”

He grinned at his wife and nodded before turning towards you.

“Are you happy?”

You shrugged which was very clearly the wrong answer.

“Mikyong!” Hani hit the table with her palm.

You shrugged again.

“What?! What do you want us to say? I’m not going to fucking rhapsodise about it at the dinner table!”

That was a mistake. You’d have seen it coming one bottle of soju ago and you wouldn’t have set foot in that trap.

“Then I will!” Changbin said, tossing back his maekju, punctuating the end of his sentence with the thunk of the glass on the table.

You groaned, inwardly and then out loud. Changbin turned to look at you, a sweet, shit-eating grin on his face.

“I feel honestly amazed,” he began, his eyes widening in what you knew he hoped your sister would take for some kind of wonder or awe. “It seems so weird that we didn’t see it before.” He took your hand, and you clenched your teeth so hard your jaw hurt. “It feels so natural to be together, y’know? I’m more than happy! I’m comfortable and content; being with your best friend is the greatest thing in the world.”

Hani cooed for so long, you worried she’d run out of breath. She held a hand to her heart, and you almost thought you saw tears in her eyes. She could give Changbin a run for her money in the dramatics department. You didn’t see Chan’s reaction because he hid his face taking a drink. Changbin had promised, as part of the rules, not to tell anyone else and you trusted him, but Chan would be the person he’d tell. Which worried you. Because you could fool your sister; your sister was a fool. Chan wasn’t.

You kicked Changbin as you got up from the table and made sure you walked behind your sister and brother-in-law so you could punch him in the arm for good measure.

“What the fuck was that?” you hissed, face hot with alcohol and anger.

“What was what?”

“That disgusting little speech you gave! ‘Oh, it feels so natural! I’m so content!’. Are you fucking kidding me?”

Changbin chuckled and nuzzled his nose into yours.

“Oh, baby, don’t you feel the same? You’re going to break my heart!”

“Shut the fuck up! How am I supposed to break us up when you say shit like that?”

He shrugged.

“I believe that is your problem. Besides which, you promised I’d come out smelling of roses so I can say as much saccharine, embarrassing crap as I like and you can just ditch me like the cruel and heartless being you are. Problem solved.”

“And you want everyone to pity you for having your soft heart broken by me? Because that’s what’ll happen! They’ll ooh and ah and ‘poor Binnie’ you for weeks. And how are we supposed to continue being friends if you’re that heartbroken?”

You could tell by his silence that he was annoyed to not have a quick retort.

“See? You’re trying to embarrass me and make me squirm and yeah, it fucking works, but you’re also prolonging this! You’re making it harder than it has to be!”

“Oh, whatever!”

The four of you stood on the subway, going in the same direction for at least part of the way home. Hani and Chan only had eyes for each otherour sister claimed they were ‘still newlyweds!’ but you didn’t think that, after over a year of marriage, she had any right to do so. You were glad that they were busy being moony-eyed at each other; it meant you and Changbin could relax a little, finally out from underneath the scrutiny of the pair. You weren’t holding hands, but you leant a little against his solid body, letting him support you as the train twisted and jostled you.

You wouldn’t have cared—wouldn't even have been looking--a few drinks ago but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two of them. Envy grew like mould in your heart. You were happy for your sister, of course you were, but you wanted that. You wanted it for yourself. You wanted someone to look at you the way Chan was looking at Hani right now. You wanted marriage. You wanted that happily ever after shit that you knew didn’t really exist, at least not like in all the stories. But you wanted someone to believe it. Wanted someone to promise it to you even if it was beyond their power to enforce.

It made you bristle, made you annoyed. At anyone. Everyone. Hani. Chan. Changbin. Yourself. You’d made this bed. It wasn’t as if you had been dating anyway, but now you had removed that as an option; you couldn’t even try to find what your sister had and it was all your own fucking fault. You watched as Hani took hold of the lapel of Chan’s jacket and lifted onto her tiptoes to press a giggly kiss to his mouth; you didn’t manage to hold back the scoff, didn’t manage not to roll your eyes.

Your sister rolled hers in return and tutted.

“What, Miki? I can’t kiss my husband?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face says it all. Kiss your own boyfriend, why don’t you? And stop looking at mine.”

“He’s not your boyfriend.”

“No, he’s my husband and you’ll never get one if you keep going around on dates with a face like that.”

“Hey,” Changbin says, smiling beneficently, “I like her sour, ugly face.”

You punched him hard on his left pec and he ‘oof’ed quietly but it didn’t stop him smiling.

“Yeah?” Hanbyeol challenged. “That’s a face you want to kiss, huh? Really? Don’t believe you.”

Changbin reflected her challenge in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“Maybe I don’t want to kiss him,” you spat, glaring at your sister, ignoring Changbin’s offer.

“Oh, Mikyong, you are a bitter old maid, you bitch. Let your boyfriend kiss you if he wants!”

Did he want?

Your heart was beating faster than you’d have liked. Your mouth went dry when you finally turned to Changbin to acquiesce. This hadn’t been part of the deal. Did he really want to do this? You didn’t. This was weird. It would be weird! How could you pull this off? It was your first kiss! Changbin was about to kiss you for the first time! His face was leaning down! He was really going to do it! How could you let him get this close? How can you pull away without ruining everything? What should you-!

His lips were soft and the kiss was gentle. Lasted no more than a second. It took longer for you to come around from it, your mouth pouting and open, looking at Changbin as if you were lost and he would show you where to go. He lifted one side of his mouth in a lopsided grin and winked.

That broke the spell.

“Happy now?" you asked your sister, your ‘ugly, bitter old maid’ face back on-screen.

She rolled her eyes, good-naturedly.

“Whatever, Miki. You are so easy to tease.”

She said it all looking dreamily at her husband and it made your stomach drop. She only had eyes for him. He only had eyes for her. You were desperately trying not to look at your ‘boyfriend.’ You didn’t know where he was looking.

You got off the train a few stops later, leaving Chan and Hani on it. You were itching to be by yourself. You had to process what had happened. Changbin had kissed you. Kissed you. Sure, he was goaded into it; he did it because your sister told him to. But he still did it. You didn’t know how you felt about it. After just ten minutes, you were starting to believe it hadn’t even happened, that you had somehow imagined it. Because you and Changbin didn’t kiss. Even though you were pretending to be together. You didn’t kiss. That didn’t happen.

Changbin walked you to your door when you reached your floor and you turned in the doorway, looking at him as sour as you’d ever been.

“Going to try to kiss me goodnight?” you asked, jeering and hating yourself for it.

Changbin looked at you, a little hurt, a little annoyed, a little fucking tired of your prickly temper.

“No,” was his simple reply.

You didn't say anything back, but he didn’t leave, so you each stood in silence, one either side of your doorway. You knew he wanted to say something as mean-spirited as you had; you knew he was better than that so he wouldn’t.

He turned his body slightly away, as if to leave, and then looked at you, mostly just sad, you thought.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. We haven’t talked about that; we haven’t agreed anything on that. I just thought you’d want to show your sister. Prove it or something. So I’m really sorry. I’ll see you later.”

He was walking away and you could taste something bitter in your mouth: your own temper, your impatience with people, your totally unfair expectations of people that were better than you but liked you anyway.

Steeling yourself and clenching your fists, you followed after him.

“Changbin,” you called softly, prompting him to turn around.

You took his hand in both of yours.

“I’m sorry, too. Sorry I’m such a bitch. The kiss was fine. Thank you. It was good. Probably necessary; I don’t know. Thanks. I guess. Sorry.”

Changbin just laughed and pulled you into a rib-squeezing hug.

“You are so fucking stupid.”

He was very, very right.

* * *

Changbin knocked at your door and entered your apartment with far less cheer than he might normally. You hadn’t spoken about the kiss since it happened and there had been no repeats of it. Things had fallen back into your new normal ‘friends who are pretending to be more than friends’ sham.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He sat on your sofa and looked up at you, still serious.

“Remember how you asked me for a favour?”

You asked him for lots of favours but you immediately knew which he was referring to.

“Yes.”

“Remember how you said it’d be over quickly?”

“... Yes.”

You did not like the direction this was heading in, but he was owed, you knew that, so you determined to meet your fate with grace.

“Remember how the very night you asked I had a date?”

“Yes.”

“Remember how long ago that was?”

“... A month?”

He hummed and nodded.

“I was going to have sex that night, but I didn’t get to. Why?”

“Because I made you cancel so you could fake-date me.”

“Exactly. Know what that means?”

You couldn’t see where he was heading because- well, you could see, but you didn’t really know what the favour was going to be. You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“It means it’s been well over a month since I last had sex. Because of you.”

“I’m sorry?”

He chuckled and his face brightened.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, babe-”

You had long stopped flinching at the terms of endearment as they leaked into your non-fake-dating time, too. If Changbin had noticed, he didn’t let on, but you were aware every time he called you anything other than your name.

“-I’m just saying. Aren’t you bothered? It’s not like you’ve been getting any either.”

You shrugged.

“No. I guess I’m not that bothered? I don’t know; I’ve been longer without. A month isn’t exactly that long. And it’s not like there aren’t ways to entertain myself.”

“Don’t you get bored of that though?”

You laughed.

“Did you really come here for masturbation tips?”

The tightened curl of his lips and aversion of his eyes told you he was embarrassed and he was never embarrassed.

“No,” he answered pointedly. “I actually came to suggest that we have sex.”

“What?!”

The shock brought you out of your chair. He could not be serious.

“What?” he returned. “We’re already fake-dating! Why not make a bit of it real? It doesn’t have to mean anything. Except both of us getting some... release. Relief. Call it stress relief! From the stresses of pretending to be dating. It’ll make the pretence easier, too, since it doesn’t seem like you are going to actually break us up anytime so-”

“I am! I am! I’m working on it...”

You couldn’t help the whine that crept into your tone. You were working on it. Or at least, you had been. It was too difficult. How could you find a way for your relationship to end and for you to remain friends at the end of it? And with each day that passed, it got harder, because your ‘relationship’ had gone on longer. And everyone was expecting it was getting more and more serious – especially as it was built on the foundation of your very solid, very real friendship.

“Ok and while you work on it, we could be having sex.”

“Changbin...”

He regarded you carefully and you looked back, hoping you looked as pathetic as you felt.

“You don’t have to say yes. I won’t take it personally. I just... I honestly just really want to get laid and you are the only person I’m allowed to have sex with at the moment. So you’ve really stitched me up here.”

You sank down next to him on the sofa and laid your head on his shoulder.

“I am sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to go on this long. I didn’t mean to stitch you up. It’s kind of got out of hand--. I actually didn’t mean to create this mess at all. My sister sometimes just brings out the worst in me.”

“Yeah,” Changbin replied, patting your knee. “Family can do that.”

There was a brief lull and then Changbin slapped his own thighs and stood.

“Well, if you don’t want to have sex, I’m out of here.”

“I didn’t say that!”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were furious that your cheeks had the audacity to warm. You were a grown woman; he was a grown man. You should at least be able to talk about sex. You did talk about it! You had discussed it!

But it was different when it was this – the two of you having it. Together. There was a line there. And he may have made some good points (you weren’t getting any; as long as you were pretending to date each other, you couldn’t sleep with anyone else; it would make the pretence easier), but suggesting it didn’t have to mean anything? Surely it meant something. It had to mean something! Friends didn’t just fuck their friends. That never worked. It always made things weird.

Weirder than they already were? Wasn’t it already weird that you pretended to be together whenever you saw any of your friends, any of your family? Wasn’t it already weird that Changbin was so used to calling you ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ and god knew what else that he said even when you were alone? Wasn’t it already weird that you didn’t hesitate anymore, that the words ‘I have a boyfriend’ fell from your lips without your even having to try? Wasn’t it already weird that you were... getting used to this? Enjoying it even?

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to. I also didn’t say I did. I don’t know. Don’t you feel like it would be weird?”

He shrugged.

“Maybe. Kind of too horny to care.”

“Seo Changbin!”

“What?! I'm being honest!”

“I’ll think about it, ok?”

“Sure. No pressure. I mean it.”

“I know.”

You did know. You would trust him with your life, and he was the softest little goober you’d ever met. That he might pressure you was not your concern at all.

You were true to your word: you thought about it. On and off over the next couple of days you thought about it. How much further over the line was it, really? You held hands. You had already kissed, a little. Ok, once. Was sex really such a leap? It would lend a lot of credence to this stupid lie you were both living. And you would get to have sex.

But it would be with Changbin. What if he was bad at it? What if you discovered you were bad? What if his dick was weird? What if he liked stuff you hated? Or vice versa? You didn’t know if you believed that sex could be Just Sex, but, even if it could, that didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated. There were factors. A lot of them.

A week and a half later, you thought you were experiencing déjà vu when Changbin entered your apartment again, asking for a favour.

“Sex again?” you asked as you shut the door behind him.

“Not exactly. It’s more embarrassing.”

You did not attempt to hide your glee.

“I love it; please ask immediately.”

“Last time I asked about sex, you implied that you didn’t get bored getting yourself off. I’m asking, how? ‘Cause I’m looking at my hand like it’s my fucking enemy at this point.”

You laughed.

“Do not laugh!” he shouted. “I’m in actual need. I’m in agony. Please. Tell me how to make it more interesting for myself.”

“I mean... Firstly, we have different parts, so my experience is not directly applicable to you. Secondly, how can you be that bored? Have you seriously never gone this long without sex in your adult life?”

He shrugged but you recognised the look on his face: the one where he tried to hide a smug, gloating, little grin.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t gone more than two months without sex?”

“I haven’t had to!”

“Oh my god.”

You were in half a mind not to help, feeling like it might somehow expose you as undesirable, because you had been more than two months without; two months was currently very much in your rear-view mirror at that point.

“Well,” you began, leading him into your bedroom, “for a start, if you’re only using your hand, then you are in for a treat. An entire world awaits you.”

You knelt down next to your bedside cabinet and gathered all your toys, laying them out on the bed with a flourish. Changbin looked a little overawed.

“That’s a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah and you know you have to use them all at once?”

For a second, he believed you and his eyes grew as wide as you had ever seen them before he scowled at you.

“Shut the fuck up. I came to you for help. You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m just teasing. Now, like I said, a lot of these won’t be applicable to you, or might be but I cannot vouch for any kind of pleasure or satisfaction because most were designed for vulvas and vaginas and not penises.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“Oh, now who’s teasing?! You want help or not?!”

“I do! Sorry! Fine, carry on.”

“Ok, well, this,” you held up a rather unwieldy, slightly inelegant thrusting toy, “is my favourite. It does not look sexy but it sure as shit feels it. The problem with the others-” you gave a sweep of your hand over a few other insertables on the bed- “is that I have short arms and sometimes I just can’t get the angle I need and keep a firm grip on them, right? Which is why this one is so good.”

You stopped yourself just as you were about to- to what? Demonstrate? You put it back down on the bed in a hurry.

“Ok, well, I don’t need anything like that.”

“No?”

“I top.”

“Right. Ok.”

You lifted another, much smaller toy.

“That looks like something you’d use to clean your face.”

“I cannot recommend it for that. If you want to get someone to squirt though, she’s your man.”

Changbin looked surprised.

“Ever made anyone squirt?” you asked, not sure if he would answer.

He shook his head.

“No, me neither... Except myself. With this. I’m not saying it’s guaranteed but she knows how to get the job done, y’know?”

“Huh.”

He took it from you, examining it as if he could learn its secrets from looks alone.

“It’s a suction toy,” you clarified. “Works on the clit. Sucks. Hard. Not entirely sure what you might get out of it, but y’know, if you want to give it a try...”

You laughed, feeling a little heat on your cheeks. It was both exceptionally weird and very not weird to be talking to Changbin like this.

“Isn’t that weird?” he asked, looking at the toy in his hand like it was a live grenade. “To use your sex toys?”

You shrugged.

“They’re clean if that’s what you mean.”

“Wasn’t suggesting they aren’t. It’s just... Isn’t that kind of intimate?”

You hadn’t thought about it before, but he had a point. And the more you thought about it, the more intimate it seemed. These toys, all of them, had been used on you, had brought you to climax over and over again in the time you’d owned them. They knew your secrets; you were exposing your secrets to Changbin by even showing them to him. If he used them, too? A shiver like ice water slipped down your spine.

But he was the one who had previously suggested you have sex. This was less intimate than that, right?

You shrugged.

“It’s just a thing, really,” you replied, even though it wasn’t at all what you thought. You moved the conversation on quickly. “I guess you’re not interested in butt plugs if you don-”

“I didn’t say that.”

You looked at his face but he was looking at the spread on your bed, his eyes roving across the row of plugs on the right.

“Ever used one?” you ventured, a little tentatively, not sure if it would constitute a slight to suggest he had or hadn’t.

He shook his head and you noticed the tips of his ears redden.

“I probably don’t need to tell you to go careful,” you began, taking a few of the options away, the ones that were too big, a little too intimidating for a first-timer. “But you should go careful. Start small, start smooth. And never, ever insert anything without a ba-”

“Yeah, I know!”

His ears were redder now. He still had your suction toy in his hand and you could see how tightly his fist was clenched around it. It confused you because Changbin couldn’t possibly be that embarrassed. Could he?

Silence fell and you weren’t sure what to say. Should you tell him which one to pick? Did you have to advise him how to use it? How could you do that when you had no idea the sort of things he liked? You wiggled your toes in your socks and tipped up lightly onto them before bringing your heels back down.

“Ok,” you began slowly when it was clear he wasn’t going to speak. You picked up a little purple plug, soft silicone, bubbles of increasing size. You handed it to him and shrugged. “Give something like that a try. See how you like it.”

Changbin didn’t look at you. He looked at the plug. He put the suction toy back down on the bed and continued to look at the small, beaded rod in his hand.

“Uh,” you continued. “Ever used a cock ring?”

He let out a comically enraged cry and stalked from your bedroom.

“Bye!” he called, not looking back as he pulled open your front door and let it slam shut behind him.

“Hey!” you shouted after him, catching his arm just as he walked out your front door.

He stopped and turned.

“You know the internet exists, right? Wouldn’t that have been less embarrassing than coming here and asking me?”

He scowled, let out another anguished shout and stalked off.

You laughed because you had to laugh, because he could have just used the internet—it would have been quicker, easier, less embarrassing, and probably more helpful. But he didn’t. He came to you and asked for your secrets. You didn’t know what that meant.

There were nerves fluttering in your stomach that made you feel awkward and self-conscious. It felt like a line had been crossed somewhere. Not a bad line? But a line nonetheless.

You returned to your bedroom and surveyed your collection left on your bed and wondered if you might take a few for a spin yourself. You decided not to. Changbin was in your head and if there was one person in the world you did not want to be thinking about, it was him.

* * *

You tried not to think about it anymore. Sex. Changbin. Any thoughts that involved either sex or Changbin. Nothing that strayed into that territory. It was a hornet’s nest, you’d decided. Nothing good could come from opening that can of worms. He could use each and every single one of your toys if he wanted but not your body. No. No. Nope.

But you were having trouble focusing your mind. You were ovulating and this month in particular was being a real fucker. Your body was punishing you for being single. It was sick and tired of preparing a baby house and having you not put a baby in it. It was doing its damnedest this month to make it happen.

You were out of your mind horny.

You were beginning to sympathise with Changbin. You were, unfortunately and no matter how much you tried not to, thinking about his offer. His request. You were thinking about doing him, and yourself, that favour he’d asked.

It couldn’t be that bad, could it? It could be good. He’d made some fair points. And you were curious now, you had to admit. You’d not, before this whole fake-dating thing, given much thought to how Changbin fucked, but your curiosity had been piqued. You hadn’t had your butt plug returned and you could only assume that meant he was enjoying it, though he hadn’t confirmed either way. You wondered if you could entice him to spice things up a little more. You wondered what he did. What he sounded like. What he-

“Fuck!”

You slammed your hands down on your desk and took a deep breath. You were not supposed to be thinking about this. You were supposed to be—you moved your mouse to wake your monitor—creating yet another tedious spreadsheet.

You: you working rn?

Bin: no. gym

You: later?

Bin: come over after work

‘Oh good’, you thought to yourself sourly, ‘that gives me four more hours of this. I’ve got to stew on this for four fucking hours before I can even broach the topic.’

The thought made you sick. You didn’t examine why. You worked for five more minutes, messaged your manager to say you weren’t feeling well and logged off.

Then you left your apartment and went down to the gym.

* * *

You were having a great day. A fantastic day, in fact. That was what you were telling yourself. Because you were about to hit a new deadlift PR and that made it fantastic, as long as you ignored everything else going on in your life. Which is exactly what you were doing.

You were looking down at the bar on the floor, heavily loaded, and you were talking to it nicely. You were a team: you, the bar, the weights on either end of it. You were a team, and you were going to do this thing together.

You took a deep breath, taking no notice of the guy a few metres away who was watching you. You didn’t care about him. You never cared about men in the gym because the gym was yours. And no two-bit, ’roided-out gym bro was ever going to put you off your stride. And certainly not today. Let him watch. You’d show him.

You adjusted your feet and shook out your hands before placing them on the bar. You favoured a mixed grip. You got into position, took a breath in, braced your core, and lifted.

It flew.

This was not a weightlifting gym, or anything close to that; it was the gym in your apartment building that came ‘free’ with your exorbitant rent, so you had to carefully lower the weights back to the floor. Then you allowed yourself a loud, crowing whoop and a double fist-pump.

You stood straight, victorious, not even trying to hide the grin on your face and, when you tuned back into the world, the man who had been watching you was clapping. You whipped around to face him, assuming the worst, assuming he was patronising you or mocking you, but he grinned brightly at you.

“PR?” he asked.

You nodded dumbly.

“Nice one. Congrats. You made it look easy.”

He smiled and nodded once at you and then turned back to his own workout: a push day, it looked like, as he sat down on an inclined bench and lifted two enormous dumbbells to his shoulders.

Huh.

That was nice. You didn’t have many nice interactions with men at the gym. Men like him anyway. He was big, hulking, probably bulking given the softness of his skin on his arms, the fit of his tight T-shirt. You’d noticed him before, once or twice; he must live in the building to be using the gym but there were hundreds of people living here so that didn’t help much. He lifted heavy and kept to himself. That was really all you knew.

It distracted you somewhat from your victory, this guy. This nice guy who might actually have been normal. You turned back to the bar and tried to get back in the zone, remember just what you were doing. But that had been it. You were going to PR the fuck out of this lift and then stretch yourself into oblivion.

It was only when you were moving to the free area, walking past him, that you realised you hadn’t responded when he congratulated you.

“Thanks, by the way,” you said as you passed, timing it carefully so you wouldn’t take him by surprise with 20 kilos above his head.

He smiled again.

“You’re welcome. You’re not trying for more?”

He nodded to rack, where you’d put everything away. You shook your head.

“Quitting while I’m ahead.”

“Well, you really did make it look easy. I reckon you’ve got more in you.”

He meant with regards to deadlifting. He meant he thought you could probably take another five kilos, or maybe even ten, but it was exactly the sort of thing you needed to hear at that moment and a lump formed in your throat. It took you off-guard and you felt your cheeks heat. You just nodded and moved quickly to the floor where you put yourself in child’s pose to hide your face.

You focused on counting your breaths and moving slowly between stretches. You didn’t look his way again when you left. You returned home, sat heavily on your sofa and cried.

That had been your first interaction with Changbin. And for a while it was your only interaction. Your workouts didn’t overlap and you didn’t see him in the corridors.

Then you walked into the gym on a grey, cold November morning, barely awake and not looking forward to exercise. There were a few others there already: a much older man walking slowly on the treadmill, a very bendy woman working through some yoga on the mats, and that guy. The one from your deadlift PR.

You were pleased to see him, though you couldn’t have said why. He had, technically, made you cry. Even though it wasn’t anything at all to do with him and everything to do with your relationship falling apart around you and your self-worth being at rock bottom and your absolute desperate need for a win, even a tiny win, anything.

Still, it was nice to see him again.

You took to a treadmill to try to shake off your sleep and then moved slowly through an upper body workout. Everyone always said they hated leg day but you? You hated arms; you hated chest; you hated back and shoulders; you hated pushing and pulling. What you wouldn’t have given for squats that frosty morning.

You had just placed your dumbbell onto the floor with an unforgiving thud, setting your timer for a 30-second rest when he approached you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” he began, and he did sound it, “do you have just a minute to spot me?”

You couldn’t answer immediately. You? He wanted you to spot him? He could probably bench you; how on earth would you be any good to him?

“Me?” you asked. “Are you... sure?”

He just looked towards the old man on the treadmill (yoga woman was already finished and out of the gym) and shrugged. You giggled and stood.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you!”

You followed him to the squat rack and tried to do your quickest maths to calculate the weight he was attempting. You grimaced internally; that would break your fucking back. But you didn’t want to make him feel nervous or to knock any of his confidence, so you pretended you were confident, too, offering up your arms as he lodged himself beneath the bar. You kept your hands hovering as he stepped back, as he lowered, as he pushed up.... It was shaky and slow and you were genuinely worried for a second that you would have to really do something, but he made it. He took two steps forward, dumped the bar on the rack and let out a cry that was far too loud for the hour.

You laughed.

“PR?”

He grinned.

“You know it.”

“I wish I could say you made it look easy but...”

He laughed, properly laughed, and shook his head.

“Why are you trying to ruin this moment for me?”

You laughed in return and introduced yourself.

“I’m Miki.”

“Changbin,” he offered in return, holding his hand out for you to shake.

And that had been that. Somehow, though you didn’t quite know how, your workouts began to coincide more and more; you began to chat between sets; he continued to ask you to spot him despite knowing that you could do no such thing. Then one day you asked him to hang out outside the gym.

Now you couldn’t shake him. Even if you’d wanted to. Which you didn’t. Never had.

* * *

You could literally feel yourself salivate as you watched him lift and you could not believe yourself to be such a basic, animal being. Humans were supposed to be above all that ‘in heat’ stuff, but apparently you weren’t. You were watching him—leg day, beautiful leg day—deadlift, watching him hinge, watching the tension on his face, the pump in his quads.... You had officially crossed the line into creepy, but you couldn’t help it.

You were hot. Literally, physically too warm.

“Binnie!” you shouted, striding across the room to him. It had slipped out, the first time in two months you’d referred to him as something other than ‘Changbin’. You didn’t even notice.

He looked at you, confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t wait until tonight. I need to talk to you.”

“Is everything ok?”

You shrugged, as if this was casual. As if you were about to say something normal to him.

“Everything’s fine, but...” You scanned the room to make sure it was empty. “Look, I’m here to take you up on your offer.”

The confusion did not leave his face.

“Offer?”

You shrugged again.

“Favour, request, whatever. I want to have sex.”

His mouth dropped open and he blinked twice before his brows furrowed again.

“What?”

“You heard! I want to have sex!” You whispered it, hissed it even, despite the empty room. It was embarrassing to be asking.

“Ok,” Changbin shrugged.

You had been expecting a fight, you now realised. You had thought he would protest a little – not necessarily against the sex itself but the fact that he had already asked and you’d turned him down. You thought his ego might make him string it out a little, make you work for it.

“Ok, so are you finished here?”

There was the surprise you were after.

“Now?”

“Yes, now!”

“I’m- I’m at the gym!”

“So finish.”

“Well, I...”

“I’ll wait if you really haven’t finished your workout.”

Taken aback by the turn of events, Changbin looked a little dazed and nodded.

“I only have a couple of sets left,” he said and you nodded.

“Cool, I’ll wait for you upstairs. My place?”

He shrugged, looking as if he had no idea what the right answer was.

But it had to be your place. It had to be on your ground, not for a home advantage but... something like that. Somewhere you felt in control. Somewhere you felt comfortable. Somewhere you knew exactly what your bed was like and where the condoms were.

You decided to take the stairs, initially, because you had energy to burn. Then you realised that tiring yourself before the sex was an even stupider idea than the sex itself, so you opened the door at the top of the next flight of stairs and used the lift.

Bin: gonna shower. Be there in 15?

You: no come now.

Bin: ???

You: what?

Bin: I'm sweaty

You: so?

When he didn’t reply again, you assumed he was ignoring you and showering anyway, but then you heard the beep of your keypad and the door opened.

“Can I just ask,” he began, no greeting, “before we do this... What the fuck has got into you?”

“What?”

“You were not exactly up for it when I asked about it and now you’re skipping work to fuck me? You’re not even letting me shower?”

Your face heated with embarrassment, but the mere fact that you were asking for this gave the game away anyway, so was there really any shame in it?

“I’m ovulating,” you stated, as if that would explain it.

It would, to you. Possibly to anyone else who menstruated. Changbin looked at you wild-eyed.

“Uh...”

You saw his hands just barely raise at his sides, his right foot stepping backwards as if he were trying to surreptitiously retreat.

“I’m not trying to get pregnant, you moron! I’m ovulating and that means I am out of my fucking mind with- with wanting to get laid! I am desperate.”

“Well, you sure know how to make a man feel desired.”

“Oh, shut up. You know the situation we’re in and you said as much to me last time: there is no one else we can fuck right now, but if I don’t fuck someone, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“What happened to your arsenal of toys?”

“Not the same and you know it. I just need to be fucked right now. I am desperate; don’t make me say it again!”

You couldn’t help the impatience and frustration in your tone and you knew it wasn’t sexy, wasn’t encouraging, but there was nothing you could do about it. You were beyond help of any kind other than his cock stuffed inside you. It just happened to make you a little less nice.

“Don’t shout at me! It’s no wonder you’re single if this is how you proposition men!”

“This is not how I proposition men! You propositioned me first! I’m just taking you up on it!”

“Well I’m not going to do it if you’re going to look that fucking angry the whole time!”

“I’m not angry; I’m frustrated!”

“Potayto, po-fucking-tah-to!”

“Are we doing this or not?!”

Changbin didn’t answer immediately and you swore to yourself that, if he said no, you would be fine with it. You would not explode and die right there on the floor of your living room. And you would not hate him forever.

He jabbed a finger at you.

“We’re doing this but you have to not be a total cunt to me the whole time.”

You decided not to hesitate. You didn’t have the patience for taking it slow anyway but one of you had to be decisive; it would be awkward if there was hesitation and stumbling and embarrassment. He had just confirmed his agreement. He had said you were doing it. So you had to do it. Do the damn thing. You grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips into his.

It was nothing like the first kiss. That was gentle and short and chaste and this was everything but. Before you’d snaked your tongue into his mouth, he had hoisted you in the air. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried you to the sofa and lay you down. He moaned when you sucked at his tongue and you moaned back, your hands already pulling his shirt up his chest.

His skin was damp and sticky with sweat, salty when you put your mouth on it. You didn’t care. You liked the soft animal of his body, liked its power, liked the way it was firm under your hands, unyielding. Liked the way he could so easily have his way with you if he wanted; it’s not like you were weak yourself but Changbin was stronger and you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight. You wanted that. You wanted all that used against you right now. Not to fight but to fuck. You wanted him to fuck you so hard, you couldn’t stand. You could already feel the intense ache in your core as it radiated heat. You needed to be touched. So badly. Now that it was actually happening, you couldn’t believe you had let yourself go so long without it.

“Binnie,” you panted, clutching the waistband of your trousers, shuffling them down, trying to discard them. “Binnie, touch me, please.”

He responded with a nip to the delicate skin of your neck and a hand sliding down your stomach.

“Fucking hell,” he breathed when his fingers found your wet slit. “You weren’t kidding.”

“What?”

“You are desperate.”

“Shut the fuck up, Changbin,” you spat, with perhaps too much bite.

His fingers withdrew and he leant up on his hands, looking down at you with his brows raised.

“You can’t ask me to touch you and then speak to me like that when I do.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a simpering smile.

“Aw, does Binnie not like it when I’m not nice to him? Oh, poor Binnie,” you cooed in a baby voice. “Does Binnie like praise, huh? Want me to praise you?”

His face hardened but he didn’t tell you it was over, that if you were going to behave like that, he’d change his mind. He didn’t say anything and you knew it was because you were right but he didn’t want to tell you. That was one benefit of sleeping with someone you knew so well. You could read him. You didn’t need him to confirm.

But you also weren’t great at being nice. Praise was not a thing that came naturally to you. And he had said you weren’t allowed to be a total cunt to him. That was fair. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll be nice,” you huffed. “Promise.”

It was Changbin who rolled his eyes then and looked as if he didn’t believe you but didn’t care either way. He lowered himself down and brought his lips to yours.

His kiss swallowed the loud sound you made when his fingers found their way south and made their entrance. It had been too long since someone else had got you off. Way too long. You knew it from the way your walls were already spasming, your muscles tightening, your breath catching.

“Harder,” you gasped when he let your mouth go. “Harder, faster, please.”

There was a minute pause in which he registered your instruction and then he complied, but it wasn’t enough.

“Seriously,” you continued. “You don’t have to be nice to me. I want more.”

His eyes met yours and when he raised his brows this time, your stomach swooped; it was dark and promising and there was something in his eyes that said he was going to give you everything you wanted.

He slid another finger inside you and drew back so he could focus his other hand on your swollen clit.

You couldn’t speak. You whimpered and keened and nodded; you clutched at Changbin’s arm and the sofa cushion; you arched your back and drew your feet in. You came with a loud cry and your body flopped backwards, your chest heaving as you got your breath back, your body shaking just a little.

“Thanks,” you panted.

Changbin laughed.

“You’re welcome.”

You pulled him closer, slipping a hand around the back of his neck to bring your face to his, to kiss him, hard, deep, indulgent.

“Where do you keep condoms?” he broke away to ask and your mind was still dazed enough that it took you a second. You shook your head, tried to clear it, and pointed into your bathroom. Changbin moved off you and you stumbled as you got to your feet. He was rising as if to go himself, but you waved him off, sat him back down.

The few steps between him and the bathroom gave you a second to catch your breath, to anticipate what was about to happen with a buzzing kind of glee wailing in your head (and elsewhere). You felt greedy. Insatiable. You wanted to take an entire box of condoms out there and use them all. You wanted to break yourself on him, break him, until there was nothing left of you but dust.

You took one foil packet from the box and returned to Changbin who was still standing next to the sofa, waiting for you. His black shorts hid the damp spots of pre-cum but couldn’t hide the tent of his erection. You felt your mouth water at the thought of it. An icy streak of doubt passed through you when you realised you’d never seen it before. Never had cause to give it any thought at all. What if it was disappointing?

Then Changbin dropped his shorts and his boxers, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“Thank god,” you muttered under your breath, not intending for him to hear, but he cocked his head at you.

“For what?”

You snorted.

“Thank god you have a nice dick.”

He laughed and you could almost see his pride swell in the way he tucked his shoulders back and raised his head a little, the ever so slightly bashful grin that nevertheless carried a certain smugness. You had never known how he did that: vulnerability and arrogance at the same time. But then again, he was a Leo.

You wasted no more time. You pushed him back onto the sofa, tore open the condom packet, and rolled it down his length. You held his cock as you positioned yourself over him, making yourself sink slowly. Making yourself take him inch by inch not all at once, because you would never get this first time again and you wanted to savour it. You wanted to remember exactly how he felt, his girth stretching you in a way that bordered on but didn’t cause pain.

When he was fully sheathed, you sat your full weight on him and took his face in your hands. You kissed him, sloppy and wet and full of tongue, then slowly began to roll your hips. He groaned, squeezed at your glutes, tipped his head back and sighed.

“Fuck, you feel amazing.”

You nodded, but he had his eyes closed, and you remembered just exactly who it was you were dealing with.

“You, too,” you replied. You tucked your face into his neck and keened as you adjusted your angle. You didn’t really talk much, usually. Weren’t sure what to say. Knew you had to say something. You kissed his neck to buy some time, sucking a bruise into his soft skin, tasting the salty tang of his sweat. “Fuck, Binnie,” you whispered. “So good.”

Lame. But you didn’t have the headspace to dwell on it because it was so good. He fit you just right; you were tight and wet and hot and your legs trembled every time the head of his cock squeezed past your g-spot.

“I’m gonna flip you,” he grunted, having noticed it, feeling the clench in your walls with each pass.

Then without another second’s delay, he did, and you were on your back and he was drilling into you with hard, precise thrusts of his hips. You let your head tip back and your mouth hang open, just as he had only moments earlier.

“More,” you murmured as you felt you lose yourself to it. To him. To the pleasure of it all, the pressure building, coiling like a spring. This was exactly what you had wanted. Needed. The relief of it was breath-taking and that was before the orgasm hit you.

Then it slammed into you like a train on a track and you cried out. Your eyes squeezed shut and your muscles tensed hard and your cunt clenched tight around Changbin’s thick length. He grunted, he gasped, he cried out, too, spilling into the condom and letting the tension in his body go, just enough to relax, but not so much to crush you.

When you opened your eyes, stars danced in front of them, the ceiling of your apartment temporarily transformed into a night-sky kaleidoscope. You brushed the hair from Changbin’s face.

“Relax, Bin, you can’t crush me.”

He snorted lightly and let himself put his weight onto you.

Maybe he could crush you. But you could take it. For a moment at least.

“Thank you,” he said, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his stomach pushing against yours with each inhale.

You laughed breathily, your lungs buried under his weight, trapped.

“You’re welcome.”

He lifted his head and the look on his face was hesitant, possibly even a little shy, but you knew what he wanted because you wanted it too. You drew his face to yours and kissed him, soft and sweet, then a little less, then a little deeper, with a little more urgency, your tongue dancing with his, his teeth biting down on your lips, little moans escaping the both of you.

It lasted longer than you had intended. So long that you wanted to go again, that you’d recovered enough to want him some more, to want seconds and even thirds. The box of condoms in your bathroom cabinet sprung into your mind and your heart quickened.

“Hey,” you said quietly, holding his face back from yours so you could look in his eyes. “Do you want to do that again?”

It took a second for your words to register and he didn’t reply except to bring his lips to yours once more. He twisted his body so he could rest on his forearms above you, then he put his weight onto his left side, his right hand trailing down your body as he kissed you.

“Ok, now I really have to shower,” Changbin said, standing from the sofa with a long, tired groan.

“You can shower here if you want,” you said, twisting around to watch him get dressed.

He smiled but shook his head.

“No way. I’ve never known a single person who takes less care of their skin than you do. Your soap would strip me like paint thinner.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“Whatever. My skin is just naturally soft.”

Changbin chuckled.

“You keep telling yourself that, babe.”

You rose, too, as he reached the door and, without realising it was happening, he turned with his hand on the doorknob and you kissed goodbye. It wasn’t until the door was shutting after him that you realised it had happened. Was that weird?

You didn’t have the energy for it. You showered quickly and flopped onto your sofa for an ill-advised, late-afternoon, post-coital nap.

* * *

The next morning, you woke late and rushed through your morning workout, your morning shower, your breakfast, and hurried out of the door to the office. You made yourself a coffee, logged into everything, and then sat staring blankly at your inbox.

You had sex with Changbin. Twice. You hadn’t given it enough thought yesterday—not after and certainly not before. But that was crossing a line, right? Sex changed things. You had put him off the first time because you thought it would make things weird, that it would be weird.

But it hadn’t been. It wasn’t awkward or embarrassing. It was good. So good you’d asked for it again. So good that you could still feel it in your body as you twisted vacantly from side to side on your chair. It had been good for him, too, right? He had been vocal (that much you had expected) but was that acting?

He had been a very convincing fake boyfriend so far. Maybe it had just been a continuation of the act.

Except it had been his idea. In the first place, anyway.

You could feel yourself getting tangled up in knots, so you had a stern word with yourself and set up blocks on your phone so that you might be able to focus better.

The frustrating thing about it was that you couldn’t talk to anyone. You couldn’t go to any of your friends and say ‘oh my god, I slept with Changbin’ because, as far as they were concerned, you’d been sleeping together for weeks—months!—now. It couldn’t be new, couldn’t be news.

You stopped at the shop on the way home for a bottle of wine, then you took it two floors beyond your apartment and let yourself in.

Changbin was on his sofa, shaking a protein drink in a plastic bottle. He looked surprised to see you.

“Look,” you began immediately, plonking the bottle onto the coffee table and retrieving two glasses from his kitchen cupboard. You placed these on the table and poured a generous glug of wine into each. “I have to talk to you and you are just going to have to go with it because I cannot talk to anyone else about this, alright?”

“Ok.”

You took a deep breath and blew it out sharply.

“I slept with Changbin.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked from side to side and back to you.

“Uh... You know I’m Changbin, right? That’s me.”

“Yes, I know!” you shouted, flinging your hands up, sloshing wine over the rim and onto your trousers. “But I can’t tell anyone else, can I? Because then they would know we haven’t been sleeping together! So you are the only person I can talk to! Just go with it.” Then, to let him know you actually really needed this, you added, “please.”

“Ok.”

“I slept with Changbin,” you repeated.

“Right,” he started, and you could tell he wasn’t quite sure what response was the right one. “Uh, how was it?”

“Honestly, really fucking good.”

He grinned, his proud ego shining through, and you slapped him hard on the arm.

“Shut up!” you hissed, even though he hadn’t said anything. “I’m saying it was good.”

“And that’s... bad?”

“No! ... I don’t know! I don’t know anything! Isn’t it weird? Why did we do it? Why wasn’t it weird?! Aren’t you confused?!”

Changbin looked away for a moment and thought it over.

“I’m not confused.”

“You aren’t?”

He shrugged.

“Should I be?”

“It doesn’t affect you at all that we slept together?”

“Does it affect you? Affect you how?”

“I don’t know!” you wailed.

“It’s like I said before, we’re pretending to be dating so we can’t sleep with anyone else. It’s, what did I call it? Stress relief.”

“You also said you were too horny to care if it was weird, but now we’ve had sex, so the... the pressure is gone, right? As in... We’ve had relief... Does that change things?”

He shrugged again and it lit a match of frustration within you.

“Changbin! For fuck’s sake, stop shrugging! Stop being so unbothered by this!”

“Why do you want me to be bothered?! It sounds like you want it to be weird, to come between us, or ruin our friendship or something!-”

“-Of course I don’t!”

“Then why are you here insisting things have to change?”

“I don’t know!”

A loud thumping from the apartment next door broke the tension and you both slumped back on the sofa. You would have to stop shouting if you were going to continue this conversation because Changbin had lived here long enough for you know that that was a polite warning call.

“If it’s made you feel uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it again,” Changbin said, his voice softer now, quieter.

“I’m not uncomfortable. I could never be uncomfortable with you. It just... I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it. You’re right. It was just sex. And we’re just friends.”

“Exactly.”

“Ok.”

You drained your wine glass and re-filled it, putting your feet up on the table as Changbin switched on the TV. He took a minute selecting something to watch (opting for a youtube video on the best mechanics of the Romanian deadlift which was not as boring as it sounds) and, once it was playing, he picked up his wine glass and asked, without looking at you.

“But where does that leave us, exactly? Re: sex. Is it off the table?”

You took a minute to think about it. You didn’t want to say no. Because you knew what it was like now. You knew what you’d be missing. And, if he was right, then it wouldn’t change anything between you. You could have it all. But saying yes still felt like saying something. And you weren’t sure exactly what.

“It’s not off the table,” you answered quietly, your glass perched on your lips so you could take a drink as soon as the sentence ended. You took a gulp larger than you’d intended and tried not to choke.

“Ok, then.”

* * *

It was so not off the table. It was so on the table that it almost became a permanent fixture. It seemed silly not to. You couldn’t sleep with anyone else while you were pretending to date each other and the seal was well and truly broken. It didn’t feel as though you had anything to lose, not since it became clear that it didn’t change things between you.

If anything, it made things better.

It was as if a barrier that you hadn’t known existed between you had dissolved. Pretending to be his girlfriend was so much easier now. You’d always felt awkward about the physicality of it: having to hold his hand, make sure you were near him, the occasional jeering pressure to kiss in front of people as if you had something to prove to them. It was easy now because you’d touched far more than just his hands, kissed him in ways that would be indecent viewed by an audience.

“You guys seem good,” Chaeyong commented lightly from across the table.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Uh, we do?”

“When did we seem bad?” Changbin asked at the same time.

“Honestly, no one had any hope of the two of you making it,” Seungmin added. “You were always so weird with each other. We thought you might have broken up but didn’t want to tell people or something.”

You and Changbin exchanged a quick glance and you tried not to make it obvious when you gulped and found the inside of your lip between your teeth.

“You mean you think we were pretending to date?” Changbin asked, thoroughly convincing in his bemused scorn.

“Fuck knows! But something was going on, for sure.”

“But you seem normal now.” Chaeyoung smiled sweetly and she looked innocent but, truthfully, she had been your biggest concern: nothing got past her and you were worried that she was still unconvinced.

“Gee, thanks.”

Thank god for Changbin, who was unflappable in the face of his own deceptions.

“We’re saying we’re happy for you, idiots,” Seungmin offered with a withering glare before turning to his other side, where apparently the conversation was of greater interest.

You turned to Changbin with a slyly triumphant smile on your face, which he returned exactly. You didn’t stop yourself leaning forward to kiss him and he didn’t stop you either.

* * *

For the first few weeks of your ‘relationship’, you had genuinely spent time and effort trying to think of a way for the two of you to end it. None seemed satisfactory. You weren’t really an experienced liar (not to this extent) and they all seemed transparent, lame, obviously made-up. It was as if you had never experienced any sort of relationship before because you just couldn’t think of a reasonable way for you and Changbin to stop dating.

Frustrated by your lack of progress on the topic, you thought of it less and less often. Then you and Changbin started sleeping together and you stopped thinking about it altogether. This situation was working out quite nicely for the both of you. All the fun parts of a relationship with none of the drawbacks.

You were enjoying it so much, you were annoyed you hadn’t thought of it before. And it seemed like the feeling was mutual. Changbin hadn’t raised the topic of your break-up; he still called your pet names and kissed you in public.

You had been sure, when you first suggested it, that it would be a disaster. But your desperation to get one over on your sister had been just enough to override that worry. Now, you were certain it was the best idea you’d ever had, and you were very nearly grateful to Hani for forcing it.

“Hey,” Changbin said softly, catching your hand and dragging you away from the group.

It was summer and the river park was busy. You had amassed a greater group of people than you’d expected – word going around to friends of friends of friends – and your absence from it would not be noticed quickly.

Not that anyone would care if they did notice. You were a couple now; you were allowed to disappear by yourselves.

“Have you met Sakura?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, Felix’s friend, right?”

He nodded.

“Yeah, I mean, we met today. I don’t know her. Why?”

“She asked me out.”

“What?! Doesn’t she know you have a girlfriend?”

It shouldn’t have bothered you. Because you weren’t his girlfriend, not really. You didn’t have any real claim to him. In fact, this should probably have happened before now, you told yourself. Changbin was a catch; he was hot and fun and kind and, frankly, anyone would be fucking lucky to have him.

But you had him. As far as anyone knew anyway. Hadn’t you literally been introduced to Sakura as his girlfriend earlier that day? Where the fuck did she get off asking out your boyfriend?

Changbin shrugged again and you felt your hackles raise.

“I guess she forgot? I don’t know.”

“Well, why are you bringing it up to me? Obviously you said no.”

“I said no.”

“So why bother telling me? Are you saying you want to go out with her?”

“I was just checking whether or not I’d ever be allowed to go out with anyone again. Y’know, if you were ever going to end this thing like you promised you would months ago?”

You started. He hadn’t brought that up for ages. You hadn’t thought about it. You felt strongly that you should not admit to not having thought about it.

“Of course, I’m going to end it,” you hissed. “Want me to do it right now so you can go over and tell Sakura you’ve changed your mind?”

“Don’t overreact, Miki. This was always going to end. You specifically promised me that it would, in fact.”

“And it will! I actually thought we were both ok with things as they were, since we’re both getting something from it, but fine. I’ll have your break-up ready for you tomorrow.”

You didn’t wait for a response. You stalked off, too angry to notice that you were leaving your phone and your bag and everything else in the park. Too angry to turn back when you did notice. You walked, with heavy, angry footsteps, for a mile or two in the direction of your apartment which was still several miles away. Then you stopped and stood and didn’t know what to do. Your heart was still pounding, your breath coming heavily because you did not commit yourself to cardio in the way you did to lifting, and you were still shaky with anger.

You could not turn back. The horror of the embarrassment you would feel having to return after storming off was too strong. But you couldn’t walk all the way home. You weren’t even sure exactly which way to go, having never done the journey fully on foot before. You were stranded. You knew your only option was the river. But you decided you would rather die than go back there. You would rather sleep on the street than show your face.

You continued to stand there, waiting for your anger to fade, to be replaced by worry and, yes, embarrassment. You tried to guess what time everyone would start leaving. It was still light (such was the curse of the summer months) so it was entirely possible that some would stay late into the evening, the night even. You couldn’t stand out on the street for that long.

“Hey.”

You whipped around at the sound of his voice. He was five feet away.

“What do you want?”

You could see him biting his tongue, being the bigger person.

“Thought you might you need this,” Changbin said, holding out your bag.

“Whatever,” you replied, neither turning away nor reaching out for it.

“Well, if you don’t want it...”

He went to turn, to walk back the way he had come, but you snatched your bag from his hand. Before he could react, you put your feet to asphalt, as quickly as you could without running.

“You’re fucking welcome!” he shouted after you.

You were seething again, your stomach roiling, your blood boiling, sweat pricking in your hair. You walked to the nearest subway station in a kind of red haze, barely aware of your surroundings, cognisant only of your own body and its rage.

He didn’t call you the next day.

Or the next day.

Or the one after that.

You wondered if that was it. If that would do it. Break you up. Was it already over? The thought pained you, but you were still angry with him. He had pulled you aside to tell you that another woman was interested in him; he had suggested he was interested in her. But he was supposed to be yours.

He wasn’t yours. You repeated it to yourself, knowing that it should help, that it should make it not hurt, that it should make you not angry with him, that it was the truth. But it didn’t work. You couldn’t make it go away.

He didn’t call you for a full week and you were scowling at lunch with your sister and her husband, your parents, too. Chan asked if he could speak with you. It shook you from your sour stupor and you followed him without hesitation.

“So what’s up with you and Changbin?” he asked, casually, as if he weren’t kicking a hornet’s nest.

“Nothing,” came your sullen reply.

“Ok... So what’s up with you and Changbin?”

You scowled some more and kept your mouth shut.

“There’s obviously something going on between the two of you, and he won’t tell me what it is so I’m asking you. It sucks to see you two like this. You know how happy Hani and I were about you two getting together....”

If you hadn’t been so self-indulgent with your week-long bad mood, you might have sensed his tone, caught the micro-expressions on his face that were giving you an opening. But you had been self-indulgent, so you missed them all.

“If he won’t tell you, I don’t see why I should.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I thought I would ask you myself before I tell your sister.”

He had your full attention now.

“What do you mean tell my sister?”

“I mean tell her that I’m worried that something has happened between the two of you. You’re fighting or not speaking or somethin-”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know both of you? Changbin has been out of sorts all week and you have barely touched your food, barely uttered a word except to be as horrible to your sister as you’ve ever been.”

Chan never told you off. He never told anyone off. You felt chastened and shamed but that only fuelled your anger.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I’m clearly not wanted here if I’m so horrible to your precious, little wife-” You saw the way his jaw clenched and you knew that he would kick you out himself if you said much more; it felt good, pushing that button. Made you feel like you had a little bit of control, a little bit of power. “As if I ever gave a shit about her anyway. I only come to these stupid lunches because my parents make me. I hate coming. I hate Hani. I hate you. And I fucking hate Changbin!”

Chan said nothing. He looked at you with dark, furious eyes and took hold of your elbow. He escorted you carefully to the front door, waited while you put on your shoes, handed you your things, and shut the door firmly behind you.

You wished you could scream. You immediately ordered a taxi and waited impatiently until you got home. Then you picked up your pillow, pressed it to your face and let rip. You raged until your head hurt and then you fell asleep on your sofa, waking in the small hours of the morning with a sore neck. You climbed into your bed and tossed and turned. You did not sleep. You refused to get up.

When the sun was high in the sky and streaming into your apartment, there came a knock on the door. You thought for five seconds about ignoring it because you weren’t expecting and didn’t want to see anyone. Then you got up to answer it anyway.

“So apparently you hate me,” he said in greeting.

Changbin stood at your door. He didn’t let himself in. He knocked. He waited for you to open it.

Then he said that, and you bit back before you could stop yourself.

“Isn’t the feeling mutual?”

Changbin sighed. Rolled his eyes.

“Ok, let me know when you’ll stop being a cunt and maybe I’ll try again.”

He walked away and you let him.

* * *

You kept waiting for him to come again. He didn’t. You waited for him to call or text. He didn’t. As time went on, you had assumed you would care less, get over it, stop being bothered by it. You didn’t.

It had started to hurt. It began as a needling kind of pain, sharp but small. Then it began to grow and now you woke with a hole in your chest and bitterness in your heart.

You thought about him all the time. What he must be telling people. You had refused to talk to anyone about it, refused to go out, shut yourself up in your poky apartment waiting for it all to go away.

It didn’t.

There was a knock on your door and you jumped, because it had to be Changbin. Because who else could get into the building?

Your body physically withered at the sight of your sister.

“How did you get in here?” you asked.

“I know your building code, Miki. I know your door code, too, but I didn’t want to just barge in.”

“Why not? You love barging in. You love poking your nose in where it’s not welcome.”

Hani did not reply. She sat on your coffee table and gestured for you to take a seat opposite her on your sofa.

“What do you want?”

“I came to see if you wanted to talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

Hani closed her eyes briefly and you knew she was rolling them beneath her lids. She was too polite to just do it outwardly, even though it was obvious how she felt.

“You and Changbin haven’t been speaking much, huh?”

“Fuck off, Hani.”

“I know he misses you.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I’m married to his best friend, M-”

“I’m his best friend!”

“Ok, ok, I’m married to one of his very close friends. Chan says he’s miserable and I know you are, too.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I don’t know much, I’ll admit that, but that’s because you don’t tell me anything. Have you ever considered that I’d be less ‘fucking annoying’ if you ever let me in? If you ever volunteered information about yourself and your life? I don’t like being the person you think I am. I know you think I’m hen-pecking you, I’m a nag, I’m just like Mum and all the much less kind things you’ve said. But I’m not. You just think I am because you take every question as an attack; you think every inquiry is an interrogation.

“You are the spikiest person I’ve ever met and the reason I was pushing the boyfriend thing with you is because you’ve got worse since you and-”

“Don’t say his name-”

“... Since the break-up. You were spiky before but now you’re mean and you’re bitter and miserable. And I know you want to be happy, so I pushed it. And then you got with Changbin and I was so happy. You were so happy. Now you’re going to ruin it all by being your-.”

“That’s why I think you’re a cunt,” you interrupted. “I’m going to ruin my relationship by being myself? Thanks a fucking bunch.”

“I was going to say you’re going to ruin it by being your worst self. Your scared self. Your angry, short-tempered self that lashes out at people. You have a soft centre, Miki, but you also have a moat full of spikes and a portcullis. You have thorns and a dragon guarding you.

“But I saw the way you looked at Changbin and I haven’t seen you look like that for a long time. Even towards the end of your last relationship, you’d lost it. But you had it back. And I don’t want you to throw it away.”

You didn’t reply because you didn’t have anything to say. You couldn’t argue with the truth, but you weren’t going to tell her she was right. You couldn’t take it.

You’d spent your whole life feeling like the fuck up, the first pancake, compared to Hanbyeol and her ability to get everything right. She had one boyfriend before she went to university and they were sweet and innocent and didn’t even sleep together. Then she met Chan on her first day at university and they’d been together ever since. She graduated with a perfect degree and got a good job on a good career path and has been walking it ever since.

You slept with your first boyfriend at the age of 15 and he promptly dumped you. You spent four years on an art degree that went fucking nowhere and did nothing for you. You’d had jobs and quit jobs and been fired from jobs; you’d dated and had partners and dumped them and been dumped by them. Nothing stuck.

“You don’t know anything,” you mumbled sullenly back, your fire extinguished.

“I would if you told me.” But she wasn’t chastising, wasn’t telling you off. She was just saying it, softly, gently now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s ok. You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t want. But you should talk to Changbin. He really does miss you. And I really don’t want you to miss out on what you had with him because you’re afraid or being stubborn. Sometimes you have to meet people halfway, Miki; it’s not fair to make him come to you every time.”

She stood and left your apartment without another word. Your bottom lip wobbled.

Was it too late?

You didn’t know where to start. How to start. What to do. Who to turn to. The only person you could talk about this with was Changbin because he was the only person who knew the truth. It wasn’t even a matter of your pride anymore; it would have felt like a betrayal to reveal the secret to anyone else. But you couldn’t just go to Changin, half-cocked, with nothing in your head but a jumble of half-formed sentences and no idea what you really wanted.

You let another week go by.

The gym felt stuffy. You were sure the aircon wasn’t working properly because it should not have been that warm in there, even if it was over 30 degrees outside. You were dripping with sweat and looking around, praying for chalk so you could dry your hands properly. You had given up on the barbell because you didn’t think you’d be able to grip it with such wet hands. You were miserable and grumpy, and the workout sucked.

Then Changbin walked in.

You felt sick. Your first instinct was to hide, but there was nowhere to hide. And he’d already seen you. Your eyes caught and he slowed to a stop, just looking at you. You had to make the first move. You knew you had to.

You stood from the bench and walked towards him, crossing your heart and hoping to die that he wouldn’t walk away.

“Hi,” you said, your voice small.

“Hi,” he returned.

You could barely look him in the eye. You hadn’t prepared for this.

“It’s pretty unbearable in here, right now. I think the aircon is broken,” you offered, cursing yourself all the while.

Changbin seemed surprised and he nodded with a small ‘oh’.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he said. “I wasn’t planning to be long anyway.”

“Right. Yeah. Ok.”

It was tugging at your heart, this need to say something, this inability to do so.

Changbin waited only a few more seconds and then he pointed beyond you and began to move away.

“Wait!”

He stopped.

“I... can we talk? Sometime. Not now. Later. I don’t know. I- I... We should talk.”

You kept your eyes trained on the ground and could feel his gaze on you. He answered slowly.

“Yeah, ok. Text me or something.”

You nodded and scarpered, workout unfinished, but you reached the lift and breathed a sigh of relief. Had that been so bad? You’d survived. You were still in one piece. And he’d agreed to talk to you.

Part of you wanted to go back and tell him, actually, it has to be now. You wanted to get it over with. Another part of you wanted it to never happen. You still didn’t know what you would say to him.

You stood, nervously, outside his apartment, waiting for your courage to build to a sufficient level for you to knock on his door. It was taking its sweet time. You weren’t sure if it would ever get there. Your palms were sweaty, the backs of your knees, too. You realised the last time you were this nervous to speak to someone was the day your last relationship ended and you stood outside your shared apartment, waiting for the courage to go in and end it. Have it ended for you. Not by you. You had certainly never been this nervous with Changbin: not the first time you went to your sister’s pretending to be together, not the first time you had sex. You had always felt comfortable with him.

Now you didn’t. And that was on you.

You closed your eyes, gritted your teeth, and knocked. The door opened almost instantly.

“Oh. Hi. That was quick.”

“I know; you’ve been out there for ages. I’ve been standing here waiting for you to knock.”

“Oh.”

Your face flamed so hot, it made your eyes sting. Changbin stood back and gestured you into his apartment. You waited for him to sit on the sofa and then you took your place on the floor, just off to the side. Somehow, you didn’t feel like you could sit equally next to him. You had apologies to make, grovelling to do.

Changbin waited.

“I’m sorry,” you offered first. The easiest thing to say because it covered all manner of your sins.

“What for?”

Less easy.

“Everything,” you choked. “For making you pretend to be my boyfriend, for not breaking us up, for my short temper and impatience, for overreacting to the Sakura thing, for not speaking to you. All of it, really.”

You heard him take a deep breath but didn’t dare look at him. The silence felt stiff. You couldn’t say anything more even if you’d wanted to. You needed to know what his response was first.

He sighed.

“They’re not the things I want you to be sorry for... I suppose I should apologise, too.”

“What for?”

You were struggling with the silence. If there was one word that could never describe you or Changbin, it was ‘quiet.’ You would have needed more hands to be able to count on fingers the number of noise complaints he’d received from his neighbours. It was never like this between the two of you. It was never awkward like this.

“I don’t want to say it,” he said eventually. “I feel like shit and I don’t want to say it because I’ll feel even more like shit.”

“I don’t want you to feel like shit.”

“That’s how you’ve been treating me.”

Tears pricked in your eyes and you did your best to swallow the anger that was rising with them. Your temper was the reason you were in this mess; it could not get you out of it. But Changbin continued before you could find a word to say.

“I got it wrong, obviously. I thought it was going somewhere. Not at first, obviously. But something had changed and I thought, ok, maybe something is happening now. Maybe this... Maybe this could be real. Then it went on longer and longer and I realised how stupid I was to think that. Because you didn’t want anything more. That was clear. That was really clear and I should have seen it long before I did.”

He sighed heavily and fell back against the sofa cushions. You risked a peek and saw him contemplate the ceiling.

“I made the Sakura thing up.”

“What?”

“I made it up. Of course she didn’t ask me out! She had been introduced to us together. You were introduced as my girlfriend; why would she have then tried something? I just had to see how you’d react. I wanted to... test, I suppose, how you felt.”

You took your time speaking because you could feel your rage simmering in your gut. You were trying so hard not to be angry, not to react. But he’d lied to you. Manipulated you. This was his fault and all this time you thought it was yours? Why would he do that?

“Are you going to fucking say anything, Miki?”

‘Yes,’ you thought, ‘just as soon as I can stop seeing red.’

“I don’t understand.”

The words were sharp in your throat, painfully clawing their way out. You could feel Changbin’s patience ebbing away, too, and the whole situation was as if you were dancing on a tightrope. You had thought it would be easy to straighten out: an apology, some reluctant forgiveness, a few jokes and things would be back to normal. Guess not.

“It made me feel used.”

His confession was small. Small and quiet so you knew it was real, that he wasn’t after a reaction or a fight. He was just telling you the truth.

“Used?”

“I was up for it, at first. I agreed, I didn’t have to but I did. I signed up for it. I know that. Pretending to be your boyfriend was fun to start with. Making you squirm. Though, to be honest, it wasn’t fun that you were so... disgusted by the idea of us being together. The way you flinched every time I touched you or looked nauseated half the time at the thought of us so much as kissing. That wasn’t exactly a balm to my ego. But I could take it. And you got used to it, I thought. Got less disgusted.

“Then we started having sex and things changed. You changed. And I didn’t really know what it meant but I know you well enough that I knew not to push too hard. I guess I thought, at some point, you would come out and say it. But you didn’t. At all. Things carried on exactly as they were and I realised that’s what you wanted. You didn’t want me for anything more. You wanted to have sex and pretend we were together but you didn’t want to be together. You didn’t want me. You just wanted me to keep up your pretence to get one over on your sister; you wanted the convenience of, I don’t even know what. It was like you liked the idea of being with me but not the reality of it. And I got sick of it, ok?

“That’s what made me feel like shit. That’s what made me feel used. And I know you; I knew you were never going to talk to me about it. So I made up the Sakura thing. I wanted a reaction from you. I wanted to see if you gave a shit at all.”

You wanted him to continue, to say things so that you didn’t have to. Because you did give a shit. You were incensed that Sakura dared to ask him out. You were angry with him because you felt like he wanted to go out with her. You felt betrayed by it. Abandoned. Rejected. Surely that had been obvious by your reaction. Surely you didn’t have to say that now?

Though you still weren’t sure what it meant. Hearing Changbin spell it all out like that: his hurt, the word ‘disgusted’, his hope, your inability to communicate being thrown in your face when you had hoped it was a secret. You didn’t want him to see you like that: inept and selfish and inconsiderate. Used. You had used him. Your first instinct had been to kick back at that, deny it vociferously, scream at Changbin and call him every name under the sun, storm out.

But you weren’t doing that anymore. You weren’t going to let your temper ruin this. Again.

Or you were trying.

“Obviously I give a shit,” you said sullenly, a little sulkily despite your best efforts.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you say that you don’t know? Don’t you know me?”

“Yeah, I know you but I’m really beginning to see the limits of my knowledge. I can’t know everything, Miki. I can’t read your mind. Sometimes you have to say things. Sometimes you have to say things even if the other person already knows them! Things need to be said. They need to be heard.”

“What things?”

“I don’t believe you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You could hear your voice rising but couldn’t stop it.

“Yes, you do!” His was rising, too. “You know exactly what I’m saying and you know what I want you to say but you won’t say it and that’s the fucking problem, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to argue back but he got in first.

“Or you really, actually don’t know what I’m talking about and that, in itself, is a problem. Either way, you need to figure it out.”

His tone was final. Conclusive. Dismissive. But you had only just got started so you weren’t going to leave just yet.

“Why do I have to figure it out?”

“Because it’s your problem!”

“No, it’s not! You’re the one who lied about Sakura! You made this mess!”

Changbin got to his feet.

“I made this mess? This entire thing was your idea! I have followed your lead the entire time and you have led me down a fucking merry path! Do you kn-”

“I’ve been leading?! You’re the one who suggested we have sex!”

“You’re the one who took me up on it! And I’d never have suggested it if we weren’t trapped in a situation of your making!”

“You didn’t have to go along with it!”

“You asked me to! You’re my friend! Friends do each other favours! Of course I was going to say yes!”

“I didn’t force you to!”

“Friendship forced me, you idiot! But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t understand that.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

You were interrupted by a knock at the door. Changbin answered and it was building security, here to offer up yet another warning regarding the noise. Changbin apologised, promised to keep it down and returned to the sofa.

“Ball’s in your court,” he told you. “It’s up to you.”

“What’s up to me?”

You made the mistake of looking up at him and his glare could have turned you to stone.

“Don’t act stupid, Miki. You figure it out.”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to have this out right here, right now. Arguing cleared the air. You had been getting somewhere before his pathetic, meddling neighbours had gone and complained about the noise. Maybe you should have made him come to you; your neighbours had never complained, never even made a peep. Maybe you should have gone somewhere open – the park, the river, somewhere you could shout at each other amongst all the noise of the city.

You didn’t want to leave.

“Will you just go?” he asked, impatience ringing clear as a bell through his tone.

You bit the inside of your lip to stop yourself saying no. Then you let it go.

“No. I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t have anything more to say to you.”

“Well maybe I have things to say to you!”

“Do you?”

Yes. No. Maybe. They were there somewhere, the words you wanted to say, the words he wanted to hear. You knew they were there, germinating somewhere deep and dark and bloody. You weren’t ready for them to sprout, to grow, to bloom.

“Miki, I don’t want to ask you again. Please leave.”

When you remained sitting on the floor, he sighed and turned the TV on; he watched and didn’t look your way. He kept watching and didn’t glance down even once.

You knew you weren’t going to say anything but leaving felt like defeat. It felt like walking away. It was walking away. You didn’t want to walk away from Changbin.

You had no choice but to.

* * *

“Can I talk to you?” Chan asked, the following Sunday.

You didn’t get the sense this time that you were in trouble, but you knew you would deserve it if you were.

“I wanted to apologise,” he began and you started.

“You want to apologise to me?”

“Yes. I should have known better than to ask you so directly about you and Changbin. I just didn’t know how to tiptoe around it and, to be honest, I was kind of worried about Changbin; I was thinking of him, not you. So I’m sorry for pushing it.”

No wonder Hani fell in love with him.

“You don’t have to apologise to me, Chan. I should be apologising to you. I was rude; you were just being nice. I appreciate it, actually, that you came to me yourself before siccing my sister on me. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Did you tell Hani I said it?”

He chuckled.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” You paused. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. Air cleared. We’re all good. But... can I ask now about you and Changbin? He said you talked.”

“Then you probably know everything already.”

His eyebrow quirked and you weren’t too angry to miss it this time.

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t think I know everything.”

“Enough.” You shrugged. “He says the ball’s in my court, but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Don’t you?”

You could feel your conversation with Changbin started to repeat itself.

No, you did not know what to do with the ball and you were getting pretty tired of holding it. It was Changbin. Your Binnie. Not your Binnie. Just Binnie. He was your friend, your best friend. He was your fake boyfriend because your sister had bugged you just one too many times about it. He was your friend-with-benefits because you couldn’t both keep the lie going and sleep with anyone else. He was...

He had said he felt used. You hadn’t felt like you were using him. Or maybe you thought you were using each other, in which case it was fine. You were both benefiting, weren’t you? You got all the perks of a relationship with none of the obligations. It was ideal. It was really the perfect situation. You had thought.

Changbin obviously didn’t feel the same. You kept running it through your head, the things he had said:

“I thought it was going somewhere.”

“Something was happening.”

“Maybe this could be real.”

It wasn’t real. That was the whole point. It wasn’t supposed to be real.

But your anger when Changbin lied about Sakura was real. The sense of betrayal you felt. The abandonment.

Your comfort with him was real. The ease you felt in his company. The joy and contentment in just lounging around together, with no pressure to be anything other than who and what you were.

Your pleasure was real, once you started sleeping together. The literally toe-curling, hair-raising, blood-curdling ecstasy he ripped out of you. Gave to you. The soft sweetness of his kisses and the unyielding strength of his body; his smooth, golden skin, and curly, black hair. The noises you’d never heard him make before that you could now conjure up whenever you liked, that echoed in your dreams. All of that was real. It was more than real; it was animal. It was pure. It was mindless and easy and natural.

Natural, too, it became when you kissed outside of the bedroom. When you leant into him and he pulled you close with his arm around your shoulder. When he held your hand. When he placed a protective hand on your back on the subway, in a bar queue, just letting you know he was there. He was there for you.

He was right that you’d felt awkward at first. That you hated the pet names and the embarrassment that came with them. You hated him for being mischievous and jeopardising the whole operation by testing your non-existent acting skills. You weren’t sure when that feeling stopped. You were sure it was before you slept together but then you remembered the watershed that occurred afterwards.

An invisible wall between you had disappeared; a veil had been lifted. It was as if all your interactions with Changbin before that moment had been happening behind a barrier. You were holding hands through the holes of a fence, one of you on either side of it. You were clinging to each other from far away.

Then suddenly, you weren’t. You were on the same side of the fence. You were not just close but united. Joined. One.

It hurt your heart to think about it. It hurt so much. It hurt like a break-up. It hurt like heartbreak.

So you knew the answers. The answer. But you didn’t want to.

You looked up at Chan, the inside of your lip torn to shreds. You shrugged.

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, and it came out tight and choked, tears you hadn’t realised were there stinging in your eyes.

Chan pulled you into his arms for a hug and, on any other day, you’d have shoved him off, but it came as a relief. You leant into him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“You’re a good brother,” you said quietly, trying not to sniffle. “I’m glad Hani married you.”

“Thanks, Miki. That really means a lot to me, you know.”

He rubbed your back and you felt like the world’s most pathetic loser, and sickeningly grateful for Chan at that moment.

“You and Bin can work it out, I promise.”

You could only hope that was true.

* * *

You sat with the answer for longer than you should have. You should have taken it to Changbin as soon as you knew the truth. You even knew what was stopping you. But that knowledge wasn’t helping you get past it.

You lay on your sofa, rotting, hoping to decay to the point that your decomposing body could leak into the cushions and you could become one with it. You stared at your ceiling. You were putting it off. You didn’t want to do it, but doing anything else felt like defeat, felt like shirking your responsibility, felt like running away. So you just lay and stared and waited for something to make you move.

The longer you left it, the harder it would be. The longer you left it, the less likely it was that Changbin would respond how you wanted him to. Because you were leaving him hanging. Stringing him along—you had been stringing him along, however unwittingly, for weeks now. That wasn’t fair and he had every right to be angry, to dislike you, to not want anything more. To have changed his mind.

God, you hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.

You could scarcely believe that it had been three weeks now that you’d not been speaking. Three weeks with just one argument between you. No wonder it felt like a break-up. Your relationship might technically have been fake, but you had dug deep enough to realise that your feelings weren’t.

You cringed to yourself. You hated that. You hated thinking about your feelings. You hated that they existed. You hated that they hurt so much, all the time. You hated how much you missed him, how scared you were to lose him.

That was enough, you’d decided. It hit you over the head, your oldest friend, impatience. You had had enough of this, you said to yourself. Rip the fucking plaster off and, if you bled all over the floor, so be it. At least maybe you’d bleed to death.

You took the stairs to Changbin’s floor and hammered on his door. No answer. You let yourself in, using his door code.

“Binnie?”

The apartment was empty.

Not wanting to lose any momentum, not wanting either to give him any notice, to initiate any contact that might psych you out or knock you off-course, you decided to head to the gym. It was as likely a place for him to be as any.

You were right. He was on the floor, stretching, when you entered. That was good; that meant he had finished. Also good: the gym was empty but for the two of you.

You strode over and sat next to him. You placed your hand on his arm. You knew what you had to tell him but hadn’t quite picked the words. They were never your strong suit. He turned to look at you, his face an open question, and shuffled into a more comfortable position.

The words didn’t come but the impulse did. You leant forward and kissed him. Tentative, hesitant, light. The second seemed to stretch forever; you were desperate for it to end and dying for it not to. Your heart was pounding so hard, you could hear it in your ears. Your body was flushing warm, running hot and you could feel the heat from him, too, though you knew his wasn’t anything to do with you.

The second finally ended and you pulled back, but only barely, just enough to see his eyes, usually so intense but, at this moment, open, sparkling, asking.

You kissed him again. You hadn’t meant to; it happened without your say so. This time, he responded. You felt his lips move against yours, his head turn so they slotted together, so he could run his tongue over your bottom lip. You moved your hands into his hair, damp with sweat, curling at the edges of his face.

“Binnie,” you whispered, when his lips left yours a second time.

“Miki,” he returned.

“I want to tell you-”

He interrupted you with his mouth on yours again. You made a noise of protest, but it was weak and you didn’t follow through because it had hit you, how much you missed this. How much you wanted it. How much you had liked it at the time and not allowed yourself to notice.

You had to be closer to him. You shuffled on your knees and sat yourself in his lap; he pulled you to his body until his sweat soaked through your shirt. Your mouth journeyed across his face, to his jaw, walking a trail down his neck, kissing wet drops of sweat from his skin.

“Miki...”

“Binnie...”

Your mouth reversed its travels and you sucked his bottom lip between yours, sank your teeth into it gently and then not so gently. The groan he made, deep in his chest, lit you up on the inside, burning hot now, your own sweat starting to prickle on your skin.

Before you lost your mind completely to the heat and the haze, you pulled back. You pressed your forehead against his and took a second to get your breath back, breath you hadn’t noticed he had taken.

“I need to tell you,” you repeated. “I have to tell you things.”

You felt him nod against you.

“Ok, you can tell me.”

“I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t the thing you wanted to start with. You wished you could have said it all without having to apologise. But you’d done things that you were sorry for and he had to know.

“I’m sorry I’m so stupid and I’m sorry I used you and I’m sorry I don’t know how to be honest with you and I’m sorry I don’t know how to feel things and I’m sorry I shouted at you and was a dick to you and said I hated you. I’m sorry I did all this stupid shit. I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I'm sorry I didn’t realise. I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you. I’m sorry for all of it.”

His lips were back before you had even closed your mouth. You pushed against his chest with your hands.

“Stop kissing me! I have to say stuff!”

“I know, but I have stuff to say, too, and I want to say it like this,” he replied, pausing between each clause to press his mouth against yours, staying so close that you could feel his lips move as he spoke.

“You said I had to go first,” you reminded him. “Let me go first.”

He huffed but leant back a little and you did the same, the air between you clearing just enough for you to remember how nervous you were, how terrified, even though he’d just been kissing you, even though you sat in his lap with his arms around you.

“It started out not being real,” you began. “It really wasn’t real and I intended for it to never be real because I just wanted Hani to leave me alone and I was going to end it. I swear. I was racking my brain trying to come up with a good solution. Especially because you were being so annoying! I thought you wanted it to fail because you were winding me up so much. And you were right, I fucking flinched and I hated it; it made me so uncomfortable because it was so weird to have you doing that. We didn’t do that!

“Then you kissed me on the subway and it was... nice. And then horrible because it shouldn’t have been nice! And then we had sex and it was... more than nice. And I... I didn’t want to break us up anymore because I liked how it was. I kept saying to myself that we had all of the perks of a real relationship with none of the drawbacks but what I really meant, though I didn’t know it, was that I had all the security of a relationship with none of the risk.

“I didn’t want to risk it. Having feelings. Going there. With you, especially. Not because—not because I d--... Not... It was you, Binnie. You were my best friend. I trust you with everything. You know all of my stupid secrets; you’ve seen me throw up on the street; you gave me food poisoning so bad I literally shit myself in your doorway; it’s you--”

“Can I make a recommendation?”

“What?”

“Maybe don’t talk about shitting yourself while you’re trying to confess your undying love for me?”

You slapped him hard on the arm.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m being fucking vulnerable here, you prick!”

He laughed and you let him kiss you, just a little, just long enough for the flash of your annoyance to fade.

“My point is,” you continued, pushing back against him, “that if you didn’t want me, who the fuck would? You are the person who could... You’re the person who could hurt me the most. Out of anyone. Out of everyone. If I didn’t have you, if you said no, if I fucked things up, who would I have? I didn’t want to lose you.”

“So you kept me at arm’s length and pushed me away and didn’t speak to me for weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Shame flamed on your cheeks. It swallowed your voice, made your throat tight and your eyes sting. You dropped your gaze, focusing on your hand around his bicep, your ragged thumbnail that you had chewed to bits. You watched it raise and lower as Changbin shrugged.

“It’s ok. I did it, too. I could have brought it up. But I didn’t. Because, honestly, I knew it would go badly and I thought it would be easier to fight than talk about it. I thought you would find it easier if I pushed you to be angry rather than pushing you to be... open. I thought if you really felt anything, it would come out in an argument. That wasn’t fair of-”

“No, that is pretty much right on the money. You’re right. It’s so much easier to be angry with you than... than this.”

“Are you still angry?”

You shook your head. You were as far from angry as you’d ever been.

“Are you still angry with me?” you countered, swallowing hard.

“No.”

A sigh of relief.

“Tell me, then,” he whispered, his lips moving against yours in anticipation of a kiss.

“Tell you what?”

“What you want.”

And it came out easily.

“You.”

* * *

#skz fanfic #changbin fanfic #skz x reader #skz smut #changbin x reader #changbin smut #seo changbin #seo changbin fanfic #changbin fic #skz fic

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melloween-candie · 9 months

Text

A Real Nightmare [P.P]

Prompts: Yandere/Monster 5 & 17

Requested // Request Rules // Prompt list

"Can you do something with Yandere Peter Pan (ouat of course ) with the prompts 5 and 17. Maybe with a fem or gn reader. And if you can make reader more into the sweet part would be amazing. Love how you write 💕💕💕💕💕✨✨✨✨✨💕💕💕💕💕"

Replied

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Prompt: Yandere/Monster

5: "This is your home now." 17: "You'll either sleep with me, or you don't sleep at all!"

Warning! Animal abuse, manipulation, threatening, bloodthirsty

Word Count: 1,683

Once Upon A Time Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

***Narrator's Pov***

"Come out, Y/n... You can't stay in there forever~" Peter pressed his head against the door. "Come on!..." He took a split second to calm his voice down. "Look Y/n... I'm trying here. That means you should, too!"

It has been years since you last stepped foot outside of Neverland.

"BUT IT'S JUST A BABY!" You cried out.

Peter rolled his eyes. "It's just target practice." He said that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He never understood why your heart would leak every time you two practiced. "What's the difference?"

Your heart yelped out of your chest. "Maybe it's the fact that it's still young!"

It's true... You were a softy. You were always a softy. No matter how many times Peter tried killing that out of you- he always failed. Even when you stood back... watching all those critters die was just too much, and you just couldn't take it anymore.

"They're all young! I swear to you- If. You. Don't-" Felix grabbed Peter's shoulder, giving him the 'calm-down' look.

Peter stepped back with a huff and a growl. He really does try for you... He did everything... Murdered, Kidnapped, Tortured, and now he's trying the 'good guy' way. After all, the good guy wins every time, right?

Now when I say kidnap- I mean he kidnaps those who were close to you. Either using them as blackmail or something else. However, Peter never felt the need to hide you from anyone. He didn't see the point in doing so since he never felt inferior to anyone here on his island. Of course, there were boundaries... boundaries that people should never cross. Luckily Peter trusted Felix.

Felix asked you to open the door, and knowing him quite well, you did.

You always trusted Felix more than you did Pan. That irritated Peter, but he wanted you to love him the way he loves you. And he was told that the only way to earn your love was to build it- through healthy bonding moments...

Felix walked into the room, closing the door behind him, pissing Peter off. "Y/n, you really need to stop doing this." He kneeled down towards you. You were cradling an injured bunny.

"I can't... I can't k-eep doing this." You hiccupped. Tears continued falling down your face as Felix spoke- "Look, Y/n, they're going to die no matter what. No animal can survive long enough to become an adult here in Neverland. You should know that by now."

"Then why don't we stop! Let them grow-"

"Y/n, please. I know you care- but Peter is this close to losing his patience with you!" He squeezed his fingers together tightly. "Seriously, Y/n... You wouldn't want to go back to the way things were before, do you?"

In truth, the only reason why Peter changed to begin with was because of Henry's heart... or at least that's what you and everyone else thinks.

"B-but look at it!" You moved your arms a bit to show him the state of the bunny. It was somewhat small, and its white fur was now matted with dried blood. It wasn't moving...

"Y/n," Felix placed his hand on your forearm. "It's dead."

That broke your heart... You knew it, but you didn't want to believe it.

"I don't want to live here... not like this." You muttered. Your eyes showed nothing but emptiness now as your arms went limp.

You always thought that Neverland was a dream come true. That it was a heavenly place filled with kind creatures. Sadly, you were utterly wrong. The prince you thought Peter was- was actually a demon in disguise.

"This is your home now- Learn to adjust to it." He spat plainly. Then he got up and left.

"Finally!" Peter spat. Felix only looked at him. There was a redness in Peter's eyes. Felix knew that whatever Henry's heart left in him was slowly fading away.

Time Skip!~

It was the middle of the night. You were in bed with Peter as you always were. You mainly slept with him in fear that he might hurt the people you love if you didn't oblige to his demands.

However, that night you couldn't sleep a wink. You were too caught up thinking about all the animals that died in this 'supposed sanctuary.'

But it wasn't just that... Even though Peter became more lenient, he never actually changed. Sure, he wasn't torturing you or murdering other lost boys for touching you... but he still hasn't changed his ways when it comes to running Neverland.

He'd kill any animal he saw move with the excuse of 'target practice.' And if you were to push it further, he'd threaten you by saying- "Would you rather it be a human?!"

Now, you were a kind soul... You always believed in second chances. You believed that Peter would change for the better someday, and somehow, it would happen. Though, you couldn't help but wonder if that was just wishful thinking.

Then suddenly you heard a noise. Something was rustling outside Pan's tent. Then- it knocked. It was a quiet and subtle knock. As if it knew not to wake Peter up.

You slowly crept your way to the door. You slightly opened it as quietly as possible. You didn't want Peter to wake up and see you out of bed.

You took a peek outside to see what it was... Nothing- until you looked down. It was a lost boy. His name was Teddy. (Made up - Not canon)

His eyes were watery. Clearly, he just finished crying. "Please Y/n... I can't sleep." He whispered.

Now, Teddy was only three. So, you understood why he came to you. Most of the younger kids would come to you about these kinds of things. Not only was it that you were the only female there, but you acted so much like a mother that they actually thought you were their real mom. It was silly but you didn't mind.

"What's wrong, Teddy?" You said in a whisper, kneeling down so you could speak to him eye to eye.

"I-I had-" He took a breath, rubbing his eye as he continued on- "A nightmare."

"Ow... Poor thing." You placed your palm on his head and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I'm sorry to hear that, kiddo..." You didn't really know what to do... If you let him sleep with you in Peter's bed, Peter would get so angry to find another person with you... It didn't matter if that person was three. But if you left to sleep with this child... that would just be worse- "Pleaseeee!" A plea broke your train of thought.

You looked down to see the little boy begging you. "Please. Please sleep with me... I-I don't want to be alone..." If any older kid said that... it would have just been wrong to you, but this- this was sadly cute. After all, he did give you the puppy eyes and everything. So, you couldn't say no.

You were always bad at saying no... especially when the little ones gave you the 'look.'

Small Time Skip!~

You made it in the little boy's tent without waking anyone up. It was kind of a surprise to you to see how much of a deep sleeper Pan was. But when you finally got into bed with the toddler, a shadow invaded the room. It startled you and the sleepy boy right next to you.

You quickly sat back up as the little boy rubbed his eyes. You squinted yours- "P-Pan!?" You said in realization. Your heart started racing... By the look on Pan's face- you knew this wasn't going to be good.

"Look. Before you get made- I can explain." You tried to calm him down, but the red tint in his eyes only seemed to glow brighter.

"Explain what exactly? Explain the fact that this kid is too scared to sleep by himself?" He spat. "I saw everything, Y/n- I heard you."

You gulped. You knew Peter was about to throw yet another fit. "L-look, I'm sorry, but since you heard everything- you understand. Don't you?" You looked at him with hopeful eyes. "He's only three..."

"The only thing I'm questioning is why... why are you choosing to sleep with a brat when you can sleep with me?" He muttered. He looked at you dead in the eyes.

"He had a nightmare!" You said it as if it was plain obvious.

"Nightmares... Reality is scarier than nightmares." Peter moved closer towards you two. "You know why? Because it's real." He said that all without even blinking.

He then looked at you- "So. What will it be, Y/n? A nightmare or reality?" He said it in a threatening way... but what made your heart beat faster was his tone. He was so calm, and his focus was set dead on you.

"W-what?" You stuttered. It was clear that you were now completely uncomfortable. It was because of how calm he was acting... it wasn't normal.

He then looked down, breaking eye contact with you. He took a moment of silence. Then he slowly looked back up, but not at you this time... this time, he looked at the little kid who was clearly frightened.

Then he looked at you. "You'll either sleep with me, or you don't sleep at all."

Your eyes grew with fear. Tons of shivers just went through your body as you looked at Pan in the eyes.

Those red eyes now meeting yours. His eyes were now fully shining a deep red hue. It wasn't shining like it was noticeable... it was subtle, but it was clear that it was taking over him. It shined like the glow of a heart... but it had that aura to it... the kind most people would avoid. The kind that you can only describe as bloodthirst.

Peter then finally spoke. "The only thing that boy should be afraid of is getting in-between you and me."

#once upon a time #ouat peter pan #once upon a time peter pan #ouat peter pan x reader #peter pan x reader #fear #thriller #once upon a time fandom #once upon a time fanfiction #yandere peter pan #nightmares #kind reader #prompt list

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the-power-of-a-pen · 10 months

Text

A Way Home

Fandom: Spiderverse

Summary: Following the loss of his alternate universe daughter, Miguel is reluctant to risk letting anyone close to him and breaking canon again. However, as most anomalies are returned to their universes, there's the issue of you. You don't have a universe to return to. So, after having you on his team for half a year, he adopts you as his child.

Word Count: 4654

Pairing?: Father-child relationship btwn Miguel and gn! reader.

Trigger Warnings: Some cursing, reader is hinted to having a traumatic past (very briefly and vaguely described), 1 reference to reader as "Spiderman" (meant as a gender-neutral phrase)

A/n: This turned out to be longer than I had planned b/c I realized how much I had to add to make the change of heart even slightly natural, so let me know if y'all want a part two of the reader and Miguel interacting further along the adoption. Not sure how I feel about the structure + characterization in this one. Feedback much appreciated! Please!! I'm on my hands and knees, begging for feedback!!!

------

"Lyla, status on current anomalies," Miguel ordered. He leaned over the yellow panels in front of him, watching the same scene of him and his child playing over and over again. His grip on the console tightened.

She blipped into view. "Currently, there are 918,503,201 anomalies to be returned to their home universes. That's 40% less than yesterday! Spider-Byte does have an update for you regarding-"

"I'll convene with her later. I'm busy."

"Busy brooding over your twelfth cup of coffee. Not enough sugar this time around?" Lyla teased, only to be met with a glare. "Alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But seriously, it can't wait. A canon event was disrupted and now there's a spider-person without a universe to return to."

Miguel turned around dangerously fast. "What did you just say?"

"Talk to Margo -- she'll fill you in." Lyla blipped away.

------

"There you are," Margo mumbled to herself as Miguel approached. "This one's in rough shape, got dropped in Earth 616 and put up a fierce fight before Jessica took them to HQ. I tried to send them through the Go Home Machine, but it just dropped them back here."

"And you're sure it's not a hardware issue?"

"It's 2099," Margo drolled and rolled her eyes. "There's no hardware issues anymore, grandpa."

"Then try sending them home again. I don't see why this requires my supervision."

"This machine tears people's atoms apart and throws them back together in other dimensions," she explained. "If I run the same person through the machine too many times, they could die."

Miguel sighed heavily and began pacing around. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Keep them here forever?"

Margo looked at him like he was crazy and slowly nodded. "You can't leave them here to die."

"They're an anomaly anywhere they go, Spider-Byte. Maybe death would be a mercy."

"To you," Peter B. called from behind him.

"Maldito sea, carajo" Miguel cursed under his breath, turning around. "I thought you were taking the week off."

"Well, I was going to, but Mayday was begging me for another one of these cafeteria burgers," he said with his mouth full of food. "They're really good, you should seriously try them sometime."

Miguel's eyes darted to Mayday and quickly darted away. "I have work to return to in my office, so if you'll excuse me-"

Peter stepped in his way. "I'm sorry, Miguel, but I can't let you walk away from this problem. It's gone too far."

"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel questioned, laughing bitterly.

"Ok, I'm not great with words, especially not in front of big, strong, angry men, so MJ had me prewrite this, let me just get it- oh, Mayday has it. Mayday, hold the paper up for daddy, thanks, sweetheart."

Peter cleared his throat and began to over-annunciate his speech. "Everyone in this building joined your society because they believed in your ability to lead, shape, and change the world. We trusted you to use humane practices behind your actions and to keep the safety and rights of humanity at mind before all else. However, given the fact- Ok, this is bullshit - sorry, Mayday, don't tell mommy. Point is, Miguel, that you claim that you're all about saving the multiverse and saving humanity, but then you throw half of your sanity away to hunt down a 15 year old kid who just wants to save his dad. You're so obsessed with the concept of saving humanity that you forgot what it's like to care about individual humans. You forgot how to be a human."

"I never forgot what it felt like to care. To love."

"It's okay to admit that the new kid reminds you of your daughter, you know."

For a moment, Miguel and Peter B. just stood across from each other in silence, unable to break eye contact. Miguel's expression was intense, but otherwise unreadable. Then: "Go home, Parker. More and more of you prove that you're untrustworthy when it comes to prioritizing the greater good. I'm not afraid to get rid of you, too."

Peter's arms gripped on tighter to Mayday. He seemed to want to say something, but found it in him to walk away. Once he went through his portal back home, Miguel called for Lyla.

"Hold the chatter, Lyla," he said before she could open her mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Silence any notifications except for the urgent ones. And I mean urgent."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she remarked sarcastically, but complied.

------

Everything in Miguel's office repeated like a broken record. The video of his daughter. Peter's comment that he "forgot what it's like to care about humans, forgot how to be human." Gwen's "we're supposed to be the good guys." The feeling of his own child glitching out of existence in his palms, the very reason he got into this work. The ticking of the clock. The ticking of that motherfucking clock.

He zipped a web to the clock and smashed it into the ground, falling to a knee amidst the broken glass.

"I understand that you're having a very emo moment right now, Mr. O'Hara," Pavitr began, "But Jessica told me to drop this off." He placed the file on the floor and nudged it over with his foot as far as he could without getting too close. "I'm heading home now, have a great day!"

"Wait."

"Oh, I was afraid you would say that."

"Tell Jessica to report to my office."

"She said to tell you that she's not available until noon tomorrow."

"Of course," he chuckled angrily. "One person's off for the week, another needs 3 weeks of recovery. Now one of my only trustworthy members can't report for duty until tomorrow. But who's checking in on me, huh? That's right - no one. I took on this leadership role because I know firsthand what it feels like to have the only joy in your life, your only reason for living, taken away from you because of your own reckless mistakes. And despite all of that, I made it my life's mission to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. But now I'm the villain?! "'We're supposed to be the good guys!'" "'You can't leave them to die!'" "'They remind you of your daughter.'" But does anyone else here know the pain of losing a child you weren't even destined to have?"

Pavitr blinked heavily. "With all due respect, sir, I'm 17."

Miguel barely seemed to hear him. He sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair and not bothering to clear the glass shards around him. "Maybe they're all right. Maybe I'm the one hurting everyone else. Maybe I'll make the same mistake I did before, and take another innocent life because I want to feel fulfilled, just for a moment."

"Should I get someone?"

Miguel sighed. "Just go."

------

“Morning, sunshine,” Jessica called, taking a seat in Miguel’s office. “You had a chance to go through the file?”

Miguel hummed in agreement. “Need a second opinion.”

Jessica flipped through her copy of your file. “Teenager, been Spiderman for 2 years, originally from Earth 45, but got dropped in Ben’s world. A slippery one for sure; took nearly two hours to get them on the ground. Tried talking to them, but they wouldn't speak. I know my stance on this, but what’s yours?”

Miguel paced around the room. “We can’t keep them here. They’re an anomaly regardless of where they go. Margo said that it would be too inhumane to send them through the Go Home Machine again, so… I think we should let them go quietly.”

“Are you serious?”

“When am I not serious?” He took a seat across from Jessica. “I’ve been hearing it from everyone else. I need to hear it from someone who was there from the beginning. Someone who I trust. Am I falling off the edge? Have I gone too far?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re just now questioning that? Look, as your friend, I’ll say this: you’re taking too much weight onto your shoulders. You need to stop being Spiderman for a moment and start being Miguel.” She shifted in her seat. “But, as your teammate, I want you to know that I’ll be by your side no matter what you choose.”

Miguel nodded, but he was totally spaced out. All he could think about was his daughter. How he wanted to take this one in so bad, just to feel like a father again, feel like a man again. How he feared the consequences of love.

Jessica snapped in front of his face. “Earth to Miguel.”

He shook his head. “What?”

“Look, I can’t say that I don’t agree with your initial idea. But I look at them, and at Gwen, and at my future kid, and-” She put her hand on her stomach “-I just can’t imagine leaving them in the dust like that. I was wrong about Gwen, yes, but these kids are suffering. And I don’t know if we can keep making these hard decisions that put these people right back where they were trying to escape from and still call ourselves heroes.”

Miguel held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, right or wrong. I was all of these kids once: Miles, Gwen, Hobie. I know what it’s like to love your family so much that you throw everything else to the wayside. But that cost me my child, and thousands of other lives. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just want to stop the suffering. I just want it to stop.”

Jessica gave him a moment. “Let’s meet the kid. Give them a trial before we make any decisions we can’t take back.”

“Alright,” he agreed, “But if you’re wrong about this-”

“Then lunch is on me. Come on, mafioso.”

------

“Here they are,” Margo announced. “Just so you know, they’re fully aware of their situation, but not very talkative.”

“Let me talk to them,” Miguel insisted. “I want to hear what they have to say.”

As Miguel and Jessica approached, you refused to meet their eyes. Instead, you drew your hood closer to your face.

Miguel took a knee by you, talking through the red barrier. “Hey, kid. My name is Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. I’m Spiderman.”

You gasped dramatically. “No way! Really? I never would have guessed!”

He took in a breath. “So you do speak. Look, we’re trying to relocate you, but we need to have your account of what happened. Why doesn’t your home exist anymore?”

You shrugged and counted off the events on your fingers. “Dalmatian-looking dude crashed through a window at my internship. He went straight for the collider room, and most of my mentors were at lunch, so I went after him. I tried to shut off the collider at the same time he stepped through it, he pushed me into a hole, that lady behind you caught me after an uncomfortably long chase, and here we are.”

“You worked at Alchemax,” Miguel mumbled, though mostly to himself.

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Did you get bitten by the radioactive spider before or after working there?”

“Did I fucking what?”

“That’s how you got your powers, right?” He asked.

“My powers? Oh, I see what’s happening here,” you laughed. “You’re all off your rockers! Let me guess, this is some alternate dimension Alchemax where everyone’s trying to biologically get the abilities that I developed through technology. Ooh ooh, or, this is an elite spider society trying to save the multiverse from itself!”

“That was really just a guess?” questioned Jessica.

“I read a lot of sci-fi,” you explained.

“Nevermind all of that,” Miguel groaned. “What’s your story, kid? What’s your motive? Because if we don’t have that information, we can’t help get you out of there.”

Your expression became grave for a moment as you considered your options and chuckled bitterly. “My story? My story is that I’m a poor kid from the slums who worked their ass off to get into a good school so that I could do better for my family. My story is that my family never loved me, my friends never cared, and I was forced to choose between what I love to do and what the world needed from me. I didn’t have the power to stop my parents from hurting me or stop people from hurting each other. So, I manufactured that power and took it into my own hands. My story is that the moment I was released from that hellhole of a world, I was locked up in a three foot wide cage and forced to talk about my feelings. I heard what you guys were talking about in that back room. All I ask is that you do it quickly. I don’t like waiting.”

“Miguel, we can take a quick debrief if you need one,” Jessica offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Miguel didn’t budge. He looked into your eyes and felt your pain like it was his own. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally: “Let them go, Margo.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he asserted. “Let them go.”

Margo released you and offered her hand to help you step down from the pedestal, which you reluctantly accepted. “Didn’t know you were one for sob stories, Mr. O’Hara,” you mocked, though your comment fell through as soon as your legs trembled from lack of use.

“I’m not,” he responded, walking up to you. “But I know an innovator when I see one. You’re hurt, yes, but you have the capacity to do so much good. I’m offering you a place on my team.”

You approached cautiously, your arms crossed. “And if I say no?”

“I’d ask you to reconsider.” He held out his hand for a shake. You accepted, and he smiled. “Welcome to HQ.”

Margo whooped in the background and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

------

“Ok, first mission briefing,” Miguel started, walking backwards.

“On the move?” you asked.

“That’s the only way to do it.” He shot a web to a nearby building and dropped from an HQ terrace.

You followed suit. “Where exactly are we going?” you shouted over the wind.

“Earth 616. There’s a rogue Vulture stealing tech from Osborn. We’d let it happen, but the man's the only thing between a country of people and an all-out war.”

“Got it.”

“We go in, capture Vulture, and bring him back to HQ. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You stepped through your portal and immediately got whiplash from the pure speed of a nearby aircraft.

Vulture swooped down from above and tore the tail off of the police helicopter. It crashed into a skyscraper and gained speed as it headed for the street below.

Miguel spoke to you through the comms. “Trial number one, newbie. I’ll pursue Vulture; you stop that helicopter from hurting civilians.”

“On it.” You dived off of your skyscraper to gain speed and pulled yourself forward with your webs. In one smooth movement, you grabbed the two co-pilots and placed them on the closest rooftop.

The helicopter was quickly approaching the ground, where children were playing in an enclosed playground.

“Shit,” you murmured, propelling yourself under the machine to create a landing pad for it at a safe distance from the kids. At the rate you could fire, you wouldn’t be able to stop it on time.

In the distance, you saw Miguel struggling to keep Vulture away from a construction site, and reached out to him over the comms. “Have him ram into that crane.”

“What?”

“Just trust me.”

Miguel redirected the Vulture, dodging last second when he attacked so that the crane would fall down.

The crane caught the chopper where it was, and you used it as a crutch to help you redirect the chaos to the empty street. You swung around the crane five times, wrapping an immense amount of webbage around it and attaching along the side of a business building. When the helicopter threatened to fall due to the weight of it, you shot three web bombs at it to keep it in place.

When you reached the ground, you were out of breath and half-heartedly waving to the clapping children and their parents. Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder as you observed the incapacitated Vulture.

“Not bad, kid,” Miguel chuckled. “Not bad.”

------

A good six months had passed, and you had risen in the ranks of the Spider Society. You were still without a place to stay, and had been bouncing from place to place in between missions. The first month, it was Pavitr and his aunt’s place. Then, Hobie’s, then HQ, and finally, Gwen’s. Most of your free time was spent discussing tech with Margo or trailing behind Miguel.

A building-wide alert had gone off, sending every spider-being into high alert as they searched for the threat.

“What’s the sitch?” you asked Miguel as the two of you bounded down the hall. “A futuristic Rhino that’s suspected to work for The Spot just invaded HQ. He’s trying to destroy our tech and pick us off.”

Just as Miguel had finished his explanation, Rhino crashed through a door four floors below. You both zipped towards him, barely avoiding running into Peter B. as he took a picture of himself, Mayday, and Rhino. Miguel attacked Rhino head-on, performing a spin-kick to the face before webbing his arms together and latching onto his back. Rhino broke his constraints effortlessly, and threw Miguel out of a nearby window. You helped Noir get to his feet and went after Rhino.

By the time you got there, Rhino had Miguel pinned to the cracked concrete. His web shooters were broken, and he was using all of his remaining strength to stop Rhino from snapping his neck. When he saw you approaching, he tried to silently signal for you to go, but you didn’t listen.

“Hey, Alexei!” you shouted. “I never really took you for the dominant type! It doesn’t suit you.”

You swung a piece of concrete at his back and zipped to deliver a punch to the face. Rhino was quick to return the favor, and charged you through a nearby wall.

Miguel attempted to stand up as backup arrived. He climbed onto Rhino’s back and sunk his teeth into his neck, effectively, though temporarily, paralyzing him. A team of 15 spiderbeings worked to get Rhino back to HQ while you and Jessica helped Miguel to his feet.

“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have died,” Miguel snapped.

“You were the one near death,” you argued. “If I didn’t come when I did, you could’ve died. Was I just supposed to let that happen?!”

“Yes!”

“No!” You dropped his arm from around your shoulder and Peter B. went to pick up the slack. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you? You gave me a chance when no one else would. I lost my world, my home, and my friends. I couldn’t lose you, too.”

“That’s not for you to decide. I can’t trust you like an adult if you refuse to act like one,” he grunted, before wavering in his stance. Jessica helped right him.

You took a step back and pressed your lips together. “You know, I joined this team because I wanted to save people. I have the ability to save them. And… if you can’t acknowledge that ability, then… maybe you need to reevaluate your interests.” With that, you took off.

Jessica and Peter sat Miguel down to rest.

“How bad did I fuck up?” Miguel inquired.

“Give them a few minutes to sit on it,” Peter suggested. “Kids are like that. They need time to cool off. Just make sure you talk to them later.”

------

You sat on the slanted glass roof of HQ to listen to music and blow off some steam. Heavy footprints sounded from behind you. You sighed. “If you’re here to argue, can you at least wait until the end of this song?”

“I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to talk. And… apologize.”

That piqued your interest, but you tried to sound nonchalant as you gestured to the space next to you. “Go ahead, then. Sit.” You turned the music off.

He obliged. “I’m sorry for saying that I couldn’t trust you and that you needed to act like an adult. It wasn’t fair. I do trust you, and there’s no reason for you to act like an adult when you’re still a kid. I’ll be more conscious of my words in the future.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

You sat in silence for a while, and you began to get up.

“Wait,” he asked. “Please.”

“What did you really come here to say?”

“Just sit, and I’ll tell you.” He waited for you to return to your spot and took a deep breath. “When I was first messing with the multiverse after working at Alchemax, I wasn’t as careful as I am now. I found a world where I was dead, but had a daughter, so I replaced myself and began raising her. I loved her more than anything. But, I was an anomaly, and had disrupted canon events. I felt her glitch right out of my hands. Thousands of innocent people died that day because of me. So, I made a vow to myself: never again. I wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else, and I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.”

He paused, gulped, and forced himself to make eye contact with you. “Then I met you. And I tried to hate you, I really did. But you’re funny, and you’re smart and passionate, and you have a damn good heart. And everything in me just wants to protect you. I’m so mad at myself for hurting you and-”

You cut him off with a bear hug, to which he slowly responded once he understood what was happening. You shed a few tears into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “I’m sorry, too.”

He laughed, partially in disbelief. “For what?”

“I called you a dick behind your back for the first three months because I thought you had a stick up your ass.” You backed away snickering and wiped your eyes. “But you’re more my family than my parents ever were.”

Now or never, Miguel.

“About that,” he began. “I know you’ve been staying at Gwen’s place - and you’re completely free to stay there if you want - I just thought it might be nice for you to have a permanent place to stay, a school to go to, a familiar face, you know?”

“Not really,” you expressed. “What do you mean?”

“I- it’s better if I just show you.” Miguel took a folder out of his bag and handed it to you. He looked the other way as you processed what he gave you.

“Are these adoption papers?”

“Um… yeah,” he relented, still refusing to look your way.

“And this isn’t a joke?”

“Of course not. But, it’s also up to you. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do-”

“Yes,” you cut him off and wrapped him in an even tighter hug. “Absolutely yes.”

------

Miguel helped you carry your few boxes of belongings that you had left at Gwen’s into his modern duplex.

“Jesus, dude,” you commented. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

He laughed. “This is what being a scientist earns you.”

“Damn.” You took the space in. The windows in the living room were from floor to ceiling, the couch a cool grey with ornate yellow and green pillows. Everything was open concept, and both the Mexican and Irish flag hung on either side of the TV. Aside from the occasional painting, the apartment was largely monochromatic.

“The kitchen is under that loft area, which I usually use as office space, but you’re free to use it, too. Bathrooms on first and second floors,” he explained while walking up the stairs. He stopped in front of the third door to the right. “This is your room.”

You gently pushed open the door. Miguel had prepared for your arrival intensely. A twin bed sat in the back left corner of the room, a desk in the back right. There was a wide panel of windows with shades and a nightstand with knick knacks. A mirror, bookshelf, decorative rug, and bean bag filled the empty space. A poster with a Spiderman symbol hung over your desk, and a smile fought its way onto your face.

“There’s a closet, too,” Miguel said proudly.

You opened the closet to find it fully stocked with casual, formal, and tactical clothing. “You did all of this for me?”

He smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”

------

It was the following year on Father’s Day, and you were waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard keys turning at the door.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen island. “I made dinner for us. And we can watch that crappy comedy show that you like.”

He hung up his jacket and gave you a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. How was it with your friends?”

“Pretty good. But it took an hour to get Miles out of that Famous Footwear. I swear that boy has enough sneakers to cover the Mediterranean. How was work?”

Miguel grabbed a plate and took a seat next to you. “Well, we finally figured out the malfunction in the control room. Hobie had been messing around with it for his own projects. Shocker, right? But other than that it was just a bunch of boring meetings.”

“Oh, I just remembered something.” You rushed upstairs to get a gift bag from your room and returned, out of breath. “I made this for you. It’s not much, but my job doesn’t start until July and I wanted to give you something, so…”

He removed the tissue paper to find a carefully knitted shawl with his suit designs on it. He remained speechless for a moment.

“What do you think?”

“I love it.”

“Really? Cuz I could get you something else if you’d prefer-”

“I love it,” he repeated, giving you a bear hug. “I’ll wear it all the time when the weather takes a turn.”

“I thought it might be useful for winter patrols,” you admitted.

“It will be. I know you don’t like getting too sappy, so let’s watch some TV, yeah?”

Halfway through an episode of the comedy show, you got up to use the bathroom. Miguel paused the show and admired your work on his shawl. When you came back, he was still staring at it as if he were examining each individual stitch.

“I’m back,” you said when he didn’t acknowledge you.

He hummed in response. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You furrowed your brows, worried now. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not all, it’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to let you know that I would understand if you want to look into seeing if there’s any way to find your real parents. I love you and I want you here, don’t get me wrong, but if this is something you feel strongly about, I wanted to make sure you knew that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”

You stared at him for a while before bursting into laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

You grabbed his hands and looked him in his eyes. “I found my real dad the moment you brought me here. I’m home.”

He squeezed your hands and repeated your words as if convincing himself of the truth. “You’re home.”

------

567 notes · View notes

ikkosu · 25 days

Text

REWIND / CHROMEDOME

(adopting gn!human reader)

a/n : been wanting a cute fluffy request I hope I wrote them uh satisfactorily 😭😭 I actually enjoyed writing about baby and cdrw maybe I’ll write more scenarios with this little family ughhh so cute

"Alright folks, we're leaving in thirty minutes!" Rodimus's voice echoed through the speaker.

"It's either you get on or get off the ship forever— Er, ah...oh what's that? We're not allowed to leave when— Damn it. Apologies, there's been a restatement by Ultra Magnus declaring it's illegal, you guessed it, for whatever reasons I'm not bothered enough to care. Blah, blah blah. Oh, shut it drift. Anyways, latecomers are welcomed in the brig. Buckle up in thirty! Rodimus out."

Rewind swivelled his gaze from the rock nestled on the grass, then to the ship, hovering not too far from where he's crouching. "Huh, guess I'm taking a detour." Then, his camera skims over the verdant fields of rolling hills. Red lights, blinking. "Won't hurt, would it?"

The LL had a short break stopping on Earth, mostly for refuelling, fresh air, stretching limbs,,,totally not because Brainstorm blew up the left wing again and The Science Team had to patch things up discreetly

Seriously, where is HR when you need it?

And, obviously, the Archivist is not missing the opportunity to explore, of course. It's earth! Home to,,,well,,,,the most complex (derogatory) kinds in the cosmos. And, this rock he's been examining? It's an extraterrestrial mineral. Figments of rocks from asteroids, comets, and the like originating outside of the Earth. Crazy, huh.

Better keep that for safekeeping.

Aside from, ah, well wandering where he's able to film stuff, occasionally animals and cows of the like, it's more like a need, at the moment, for a bit of (lets put this gently) space away from his conjunx — since, he's been acting like an ass of late.

Ahem, going behind his, ahem back to doing ahem Mnemosurgery....again.

It's not even an 'again' anymore, it's just borderline often

Why does he even bother to listen? You can't break old habits, as Ratchet would say. They'd break themselves before they could ever stop.

"So that's it? You're just going to ignore me like that?" Footsteps pattered behind him

Rewind huffs, walking faster. "Took you long enough to figure it out, genius."

He groans. "Oh for— Primus sake, Rewind, come on. Don't do this. We can talk."

"Oh sure, sure! Talk." He threw his hands up, whirling around to face his conjux. "That's what you always say, promising me like you're going to get your eyes gorged out if you didn't. What else, tell Red Alert to stop being paranoid and Whirl, a psychopathic ass?"

Chromedome palms his face. Primus, this apology isn't going well as he expected it to. "Look, I messed up. I breached a trust you had in me. I shouldn't have done it. That was very... inconsiderate....of me..."

"What is this, eight grade? Spelling bee on who's responsible?"

"That's not the point! You can't just—"

And, so it begins. The bickering. The blaming. Hand pointing. Arguments ablaze, never listening. Voice raising — just the tip of the iceberg, not even close to it's full potential.

"I bet my words doesn't mean anything to you now, does it?"

"It's does, Rewind. It does!"

"Hey! Stay there! Don't even come any closer or I swear to Primus I'll—"

A cry gurgled out amidst the bushes.

The Mnemosurgeon stiffens. He looking around for the source of the cry when he notices conjux was staring at him. "What?"

"Wow. Wow. Low blow, Chrome dome." Rewind puffs and presses his fists on his hips. " Low blow. I didn't think you'd do this. You're gonna resort to mocking me, now?"

He sputters. " You think that was me?"

"Yeah, blame it on the cows. Blame it on 'em like you do when avoid all responsibility."

"What's even a cow? Oh, for—" Then suddenly he lets out a surprised sound, dropping to crouch next to a bush. Rewind doesn't bother to look. Why would he? He's busy sulking and he wants that Mnemo-no-to-the-o to see it. Though, his audials tuned into a rustle of leaves when—

"There! Primus, Rewind look at this."

Said Archivist was still sulking, arms crossed, looking away. "Nuh, uh."

"Don't you nuh uh me." CD chuffs and figured actions were bigger than words so he scooped up the bundle of blankets and shoved it up his face. "Well? Still got film for this?"

Rewind takes a moment to register the visage.It was, if he knew his terms correctly, a human child. No, wait. A baby. It's the size of a sparkling but....smaller. And, significantly softer.

Most of all, it's crying. Coolant— er, tears streaming down the side of it's cheek. Gently, his servos curled around the scoop, nestling it softly against his chassis. He felt a kind of pull in is spark. Something fond pulsing. Chromedome loosened, looking away. What's the point? The mask already hid his smile.

"Seems pretty far from it's residential zone." Chromedome peers across the horizon searching for even the most recognizable specks of rooftops.

Nope, nothing.

Just rolls and rolls of green foliage.

"Hey there little fella." The Archivist coos, digit caressing the cheek to soothe it. The baby sniffled then blink, lifting up it's tiny fingers to bap his index. "What's a baby doing here of all places?Aren't human, uh, carrier, sires are very protective of their offsprings?"

Chromedome doesn't know what to say, he's not Ratchet or Percy, but he's sure as hell relieved their argument took a turn into park. "Misplacement, maybe."

"...How do you misplace a baby in a bush?"

"Things like that can happen, you know."

"If anything, it seemed like it's deliberately thrown in there. Look! It's even wrapped in a blanket."

He held it up for the Mnemosurgeon to see who, in turn, simply shrugged.

"Yeah. To keep it warm."

"Until someone finds them."

Chromedome narrows his optics. He's got a bad feeling about this. "Rewind. What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is that this child is deliberately left here to be found. We can't just leave it out here—"

"Are you saying we should steal it?''

"I'm not saying we should- ugh yes! I'm saying we should steal it—"

"You're kidnapping children now?"

Ratchet cuts through both of their comms, immediately barraging them, "Are you two idiots done squabbling with whatever stupid problem you have or are we gonna have to wait another fraggin' hour until you both make up and kiss?"

They had to take the baby, much to CD's dismay.

Ultra Magnus was losing his mind. What do you mean you found a baby in a ditch, in a bush, in a field of all places?! Even worse, literally miles and miles away from the nearest habitual region!

Purely, coincidental. He'll have to look in his files for crimes like this lest another is let loose for havoc. The young are the future for society! Something Cybertron is severely lacking in

Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable. Oh, and by the way, you're both going in the brig. You're late.

"Chromedome stalled me."

"Here, we go again."

Everyone is busy cooing and taking turns prodding the bab, and can someone please keep whirl away from the child he's armed, (with the exception of Megatron, the medics and UM) who didn't, mostly for the fear of passing diseases to it, mostly stood far with unimpressed looks on their faces.

First Aid, though, eventually took matters into his own hand,,, by taking it into his own hands and putting it in a glass box (shut up Brainstorm we're not using your stupid Polyhex Quadrilateral Box or whatever) to scan it's vitals and conditions

Everyone was outside, peering through the glass, prodding, helms jut at odd angles to see through the crowd — while the medics delicately assessed its condition.

Ratchet had to explain poor Rewind that not everyone wants children and not every parents are deserving of it so. He's seen this a lot in human culture.

"So they abandon babies just for the fun of it?!"

Well, he's got a point. Most of it at least. "Rewind.... no."

When they were done ensuring the baby is in optimal condition, Ratchet comes up to the, er couple, if he had to put it that way and crossed his arms, a brow raised.

"Do you trust yourselves enough to look after the child?"

"Might as well." CD sighs. ".... I've got enough responsibility on my plate, already."

"Nobody forced you to go back and take it." Rewind mutters.

Ratchet held up a servo to cut off another argument brewing. " I'm going to put this out clear."

A digit points to them. Ratchet grits his dentas and every word that spooled out of his vocalizer, more intense.

"You both are going to have to put your differences aside. You're going to resolve that problem of yours, and resolve it clean — not in front of the child, but behind. Go hide in a broom closet for all i care. Mutilate or incapacitate each other's limbs, if it helps. Fight all you want, kill each other if you have to. But this baby? This baby? You're going to give this child the most loving, caring family it can have. You hear?"

Shenanigans ensue.

Obviously, given they're Cybertronians, human anatomy isnt a topic they're very well versed with. Rewind does know a thing or two. But consulting videos are not really the best way to go when neither of them have the tools to feed the baby

Percy and Nautica (because he doesnt trust brainstorm) are tasked with concocting the milk formula. They're seen tinkering away in the lab, barring the other scientist against a let-me-in charade. Lab doors are locked and padlocked with a specific colde — suck it BS.

All elements, minerals and resources as such are to be provided Rodimus (begrudingly), then fact-checked by the medics, very, very carefully.

They're like guts deep in space and very far from earth. A quantum jump to said planet, in case of an emergency, can affect the only organic living onboard.

Moreover, Ratchet doesn't trust CDRW to learn the stuff themselves, so he holds five hour long sessions daily on how to provide sufficient needs for the baby. You know, handling them, playing with them, learning their gestures, mannerisms,,,etc

CD loves holding baby by the armpit, and especially loves it when he does that, baby tries to bap his face, squealing and babbling, trying to reach him— he finds that his chassis always melts a little.

Rewind, on the other hands, adores cradling baby in a blanket. He likes how warm and soft it is against his arms. And how easily it his to nestle baby under his chin as he walks.

He is the most affectionate from the two. And definitely records everything. Soccer mom-esque, cheering loud whenever baby does something' monumental, for instance, blabbering dada coherently. But also the most rigid. Like, lattice structured rigid.

''Rewind you watch snuff films you hypocrite, a Sunday cartoon getting a liiiiittle violent is nothing compared to the archives you go through." Rodimus wags the CD in front of the Archivist, an upturned pleading pout, pulling his features. He looked comical hunching to regard the smaller Archivist with baby nestled under his chin.

It was an obvious ploy to fiddle with the baby. Everyone's trying to get a nab of their little squeals, these days. Why wouldn't they?

Those adorable fats for cheeks, soft and cuddly, crawling around the habsuite like a cretin, gumming on everything they could find.

Skids managed dodging through the vents after a successful glimpse of peek-a-boo (Rewind forbids physical touch. He's not risking any disease that can be transferred.)

He slinked down and baby immediately latched onto his pedes, babbling for an upsie. It took him a while, and much restraint, not to take it through the vents

Swerve almost poisoned baby with the engex again because, in his own words, what's a little harm in trying new things?

He's now locked up in the brig, banned from touching baby ever .

This entire crew is a hazard and Rewind wasn't having it.

"Is this the same captain known for illegal conduct of meteor surfing?"

"....Oh, shut it."

Chromedome's not very affectionate but is less-rigid when it comes to baby. He's the type to cave in when they want something. Sweets? Oh, you want sweets? He doesn't care if the Lost Light is miles away from the nearest planet. He's going there and he's going now.

Stop him and he'll plunge those long, needle-like nails into mecha's skull, their ancestors could see Primus's aft whole again.

Hoards like,,,,around fifty satchels of sweets. It was only until Ambulon had a private chat with the Mnemosurgeon, that, yes, the baby is going to die eating that much.

So, he offered safer alternatives if baby wanted something sweet. Boiled potatoes, ripe avocados and fruits could help. (They'll have to frequent the nearest planets)

CD is like the most cynical ass ever to exist so Rewind find himself with an existential crises, staring off into a wall, when baby would scrunch up their face, the way CD does when he's displeased.

"That mask stays on."

"But I didn't even—"

"It stays on."

But he also finds, a little begrudingly, that CD is a lot more understandable these days. Mostly always cradling baby and humoring the little cretin . Arguments are close to nill. He barely has to raise his voice

Cybertronians naturally have harsh edges, given they're metal (duh), so their rooms would be congruent in terms of features as well. Not exactly a pleasant thought when an organic is dawdling about.

So to be safe, in their habsuite, Chromedome installed padded cushions everywhere. Even the ceiling is padded, mecha's kibbles are also padded (much to Rodimus's chagrin)

And, every inch and crevice of that room is filled with scribbles. (Scribbles only Swerve can decipher, but he's busy lounging in the brig so there's that.)

Red Alert, during a habsuite check, once blacked out inside the room because he didn't recognize the new change. It was so pastel-ish, bright and soft, he justs goes away

Chromedome finds the poor mech on the ground, baby on top with their crayons, assaulting said mecha's face while squealing at the teal green against stark red paint

"A new paint job, huh."

"Chromedome, get the poor guy up for Primus's sake!"

Baby is limited to the Library and Med-bay (as per Rewind's request). Library because Megatron is there and they know for a fact he's more trustworthy with the baby than anyone. And, Med-bay because, well, medics

But obviously, baby is like, a little cretin who thinks rules are a no-go and said social construct a danger to society. And, by who's declaration? Rodimus. It's Rodimus.

Rewind is going to murder that speedster of a captain

So , it's a given mech's will see CD scampering across the halls upon spotting baby dangling off a goddamn beam. Or, hanging off someone's shoulder, (said bot doesn't know, because baby is so small, the sensors didn't pick up), then sees the mnemosurgeon slumping onto the ground in relief, passed out for a minute

What's baby doing there?!

Rip CD's spark rate.

And, since they've got to play the part of a happy family, Rewind has to sleep in the same berth as his conjux. Not that they didn't ever

After the reveal (CD going behind his back doing unethical things w/ his fingers) Rewind was obviously displeased so they sported separate berths. Now? They'll manage squeezing in the same bed.

Rewind tried to act all huffy about it, glancing to one side, as though he doesn't want to be there. He does. He's just sulking.

Chromedome silently stares at the ceiling. Baby is between them, chewing on a miniature Rung figure (that Rung gave because, somehow, it calms the little thing)

Baby notices the silence and wants attention, so they bap their hands on the surface when both mechs weren't listening. And does it again for the fifth time. CD sighs and decides to humor baby, a little.

"It's past bed-time." He says quietly, patting their head

With a squeal, baby plays with CD's servo and curls it over their head. He scoops the little bundle up into his arms and loosened up a little.

Rewind swivels to find baby nuzzling his conjux, both deeply asleep. Something soft thrums in his spark, and while he’d rather bash his conjux’s a skull with a hammer, he can’t deny the lovely visage of him cuddling their child. So, he scoots over a little, resting his helm on CD's shoulder. He doesn't flinch when a servo lands on his shoulder plate, pulling him close.

Maybe, it wasn’t so bad.

#chromedome x reader #rewind x reader #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw chromedome #idw rewind #WOOOOO finally one request done urgh #Chromedome #rewind #Ratchet #idw ratchet #Idw First aid

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ivy-and-ivory · 9 months

Note

I absolutely adore your Batman and Jason Todd fics!!! I was wondering if you had any fic recs? ♥️

Thank you Anon!! I’m so glad you enjoy my writing :D

There’s so much incredible Jason & Bruce fic out there and I’m more than happy to share some recs! I’m unfortunately not the best about remembering to keep track of fics I enjoy, so this is by no means a definitive/comprehensive list of my favorites, but I scrolled through my bookmarks and found a few fics that will hopefully satisfy your Jason & Bruce cravings :)

Stargazer by LemonadeGarden @lemonadegarden (47,656 words, Multi-chap, Complete)

Author’s Summary:

“Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore. This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.”

Truly what can I even say about this fic. This is the story that made me fall in love with Jason Todd, and Bruce & Jason reconciliation fics, and Bruce & Jason destination/road trip fics, and basically everything I care most about in this fandom. I’d been a Superbat fan for a while before I started getting into the Batfam side of things, and around the time I read this I was only just starting to read stories about the Robins. This was the gateway fic. This was the one that caught me and made it stick. Formative, definitive, one of my all time faves.

this kind of weather by r_astra @heyy-its-skip (46,456 words, Multi-chap, WIP)

Author’s Summary:

“Jason’s at school when his mom dies, and that’s the only reason any of it happens. If he’d been home, if he’d been with her, he would’ve been in the wind before anyone else even knew. Even if they looked, no one ever would’ve found him. He’d have taken to the sewers if that’s what it took, man-eating crocodile guy and all.”

Ohhhhh this fic. Bio-parent Bruce AUs don’t always do it for me, but the fics that get it right get it RIGHT, and this is one of them. Possibly my favorite Jason joins the batfam late fic ever. I’m obsessed with the Jason characterization in this one. Like actually obsessed. Like he is rotating in my brain like a rotisserie chicken at all times constantly 24/7 obsessed. Cannot recommend enough.

Growing Like A Breeze by whaleofatime @cetaceans-pls (6,114 words, Oneshot, Complete)

Author’s Summary:

“April 27th isn't anyone's favourite date, but it's somehow worse than usual today when Bruce gets his car stolen. It's nice of Red Hood to come to his rescue. Nicer even that Jason keeps him company afterwards.”

If you’ve read my fics I think it should be a given that any Jason & Bruce fic tagged “Inexplicable Road Trip” is absolutely going to do it for me. But god, Bruce’s psyche in this one. The man has twisted himself up in more tangles than the Gordian knot. Really fantastic exploration of Bruce & Jason’s relationship and trying to move forward past the destructiveness of grief and blame. I will be thinking about the bumper stickers on Bruce's Hyundai Elantra forever.

through space and time by sparkycap @sparkysomething (6,334 words, Oneshot, Complete)

Author's Summary:

"When an Outlaws mission gets Jason sent back twelve years in the past, he finds himself in a familiar position: stealing something stupid and getting caught by a Batman who wants to give him a second chance. It’s a refreshing change from how encounters with his present-day Batman usually go."

I am a simple woman. Give me a fic where Bruce interacts with Jason without really knowing the significance of who he's interacting with and I will go feral, every time. Absolutely brutal interaction between a well-meaning Bruce and a hurting Jason in this one. Don't want to spoil anything, but there's one line of dialogue in particular that just. Ugh. Fuck me all the way up.

Clearly Calm and Keeping Terrorized by Batbirdies @batbirdies (258,290 words, Multi-Chap, Complete)

Author's Summary:

"Jason made a deal with Bruce, no killing, and there would be no more conflict between them. At least on patrol. Jason reasoned it would be easier to accomplish his goals without constantly fighting Batman along the way. It didn’t change anything, not really. Not until he found an old gift he never knew about and Bruce asked him to dogsit Titus while he and Damian were out of town. Not until the Lazarus Pit started bothering him again. AKA: My take on a Jason rejoins the family fic."

I am once again reccing a Bruce & Jason reconciliation fic (are you perhaps noticing a trend?) This one will break your heart and put it back together again. It's part of a series but can stand alone (though I've read the two works that precede it and highly recommend them as well). 250k+ words about a father and son and the rest of their family trying to figure out how to heal. Genuinely there is so much love in this fic. And trauma! Can't forget the trauma. But also so much love.

Code of Silence by JHSC @jhscdood (9,376 words, Multi-Chap, Complete)

Author's Summary:

"Willis Todd doesn’t die in prison. That doesn’t change much, until it does."

This one is less Jason & Bruce-centric than the others on this list (though Bruce still features, especially in the other works in the series) but it absolutely fits the bill for Jason & his dad content so I'm reccing it anyway. This fic utterly transformed the way I view Willis Todd. Incredibly thoughtful, emotional exploration of trauma and recovery and trying to heal. The whole series is gold.

Good Intentions and the Highest Hopes by rotasha (16,863 words, Multi-Chap, Complete)

Author's Summary:

"Bruce offers each of his children the chance to go on vacation with him, and they get to choose the destination. Jason chooses the one place he thinks Bruce will enjoy the least, out of spite. That’s how the two of them end up going to Disney World."

Another one that perfectly checks all my favorite Bruce & Jason fic boxes. Reconciliation fic? Check. Set in highly specific non-Gotham destination? Check. Bruce not quite knowing how to connect to Jason but trying his best anyway and Jason finally deciding to let him? Check, check, check. Jason's kind of an asshole in this one; I adore him eternally. And I love Bruce so so much in this.

There are so many more I could add but I'm going to leave it at that for now! Hope some of these are new to you & that you enjoy them! And thanks again for reading my work :D

#thanks for the ask!#reminder to self to go back and leave comments on the ones I haven't yet #batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #fic recs #batman fic recs #ivy rambles #ivy answers

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elizabethwritesmen · 7 months

Text

Notice - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Curvy!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, Mature Themes, Self deprecation on both sides, Body image issues, Self hatred, Angst (That's basically all this chapter is sorry love you guys), Slow burn, Mutual Pining

Summary: Dean is gone. Until he's not.

Word Count:

AN: Hey guys! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to put this out. This past (almost) year has been ridiculous, and I haven't had much time to even think about writing. But I'm back at it now with lots of fresh ideas and chapters! And I snuck in a little something as an official apology (;.

The next chapter will be the last, and I might do a short epilogue.

Thanks so much for the continued support and enjoy!

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

She pined after Dean left, just as she knew she would.

Every time she saw a man that looked like him at a bar, or a store, or anywhere, she fought the urge to say something. She knew deep down, though, that if Dean ever came back, she's the first person that would find out. He would knock on her door and let her know how long he was staying for, and maybe he would even spare her a kiss this time before disappearing.

She waited for that knock. A month passed and she waited, then two, then three. Eventually she grew cynical, her inner demons possessing her and her insecurities winning.

"Come on, Y/N. Please. If you want to wait forever for that guy to come back, more power to you, but can you at least rejoin the human race in the mean time?" Evelyn asked, her voice heavy through the phone speaker.

"I don't know, Evvy. I don't really like the whole bar scene anyway, I never have fun like you guys do."

"Yes, we've been over this. Ashley and I have tons of men all over us and you never have anybody. Did you ever stop to think that maybe that has nothing to do with how you look? Seriously, Y/N. You're hot. But you're quiet, and reserved, and you hang out in corners and read or peel labels off bottles. It's intimidating and off putting. What you need is to come out with us tonight and let your hair down! Have a good time!"

"I like corners and books and peeling labels," Y/N huffed.

"I know you do, but why don't you just take a break from the norm? You might have a good time, and it'll get your mind off of Dean."

The mention of his name was enough to make her second guess her decision. She did want to forget about him, at least for the night. She wanted to remember what it felt like to be human.

"Okay, fine. But you're driving. Come get me."

Evelyn cheered on the other line and hung up, leaving Y/N to wonder if she'd made the right decision. She shrugged off her doubt and wandered to her closet, picking through clothes until she found an outfit she was happy with.

An hour later, there was a knock on her door. Evelyn and Ashley stood on the other side, both with giddy smiles plastered onto their faces.

"Stop looking at me like that," Y/N furrowed her brows, letting them in and shutting the door behind them.

"Like what?"

"All smiley and weird. You look like the doodle bops. You're creeping me out."

The girls giggled, and Ashley explained, "We're just so happy to see you. It's been so long! It's like you forgot that we're all best friends."

"It hasn't been that long. Besides, I'm sure you guys have more fun without me, I am the lame one."

Evelyn huffed, "No you're not. You're like the coolest of all three of us. You're the funniest, and the smartest. It's not the same without you. We don't even really go out much anymore since you stopped coming with us."

"It's true," Ashley nodded, "You make us whole. I'm glad to have you back."

Y/N was taken aback. She always thought she was extra. She never realized how much she mattered to them.

"And by the way," Evenlyn raised her brows and blatantly checked her out, "You look hot."

Y/N blushed, smoothing out her yellow mini dress. Her white heels complimented it perfectly, and she paired the outfit with assorted gold jewelry and curled hair.

They walked into the bar, and Y/N let out a sigh when she noticed how packed it was.

"There are so many people here," she cringed.

"And you're about to flirt with one of them!" Ashley exclaimed, much to her dismay.

"I don't think she's gonna have to make the first move, either, with that dress on," Evelyn smirked.

They found a booth and Y/N volunteered to go to the bar and order them all drinks. Three beers.

"I love a girl in a good sundress," a voice came from behind her. She turned around to see a man, tall and handsome, but not quite Dean.

"Oh," she awkwardly spoke, "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," he laughed, "Why don't you let me buy you a drink?"

"I already ordered one, but thanks."

"Okay, then why don't you hang out with me while until you finish it and I'll buy your next one?"

He was persistent, she had to give him that.

"Okay," she sighed, figuring she had nothing to lose. At least it would be a short-lived distraction.

"Here you go, ma'am," the bartender handed her three bottles.

"Thanks," she smiled, grabbing them and turning to the man she'd been talking to, "I'll be right back."

She brought Evelyn and Ashley the beer and told them about him.

"Go for it, girl! He's been staring at you since we walked in, he totally wants some," Ashley spurred her on.

"Yeah, but I don't want some," she frowned.

"Okay, but he doesn't know that yet, so there's no harm in flirting. Just something to get over Dean and boost your self confidence," Evelyn inputted.

Y/N let out yet another exasperated sigh and silently agreed, walking back over to the man.

"There you are, hot stuff!" he smiled at her, all teeth.

"Yeah, sorry, I just had to bring my friends their drinks."

"No problem at all, sweetness, I knew you'd come back for more."

Internally, she was cringing. This dude was disgustingly cocky. He looked like a former frat boy who peaked in college.

They talked for a while, but she really wasn't interested at all. Even a conversation with him was a chore, and her energy levels weren't high enough to inflate his ego further.

"Listen, Jordan, I'm gonna go back to my friends but it was nice to meet you," she interrupted him in the middle of his sentence, not caring what he had to say.

"Excuse me?" his confusion showed all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'd just rather be hanging out with them. There are a lot of other girls here you could talk to," she smiled politely, ejecting herself by turning away from him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back into him, growling through gritted teeth, "But I'm talking to you. You know, you big girls are good in bed but you're really all fucking bitches."

She tried to yank herself away from him, but it was to no avail. She yelled, "Let go of me!" He didn't listen, holding tighter and reaching down to her ass, giving it a squeeze.

"It's ok, hot stuff, I can take care of that. This ass needs me behind it, huh? Get rid of your attitude real quick."

She didn't even have time to respond, or spit on him, or punch him, or whatever else she planned to do because she was ripped from his grasp. It was a whirlwind, and she felt like she was spinning, but when she grounded herself, she was behind a solid wall of leather.

She recognized him by his smell alone. It was Dean. Her Dean.

"She told you to let her god damn go," he deadpanned, his voice low and deadly.

"Who the fuck are you, her dad? Get the fuck out of here, she's just some whore," Jordan huffed.

That was all it took for Dean to swing, sharp and quick, his fist landing square in the center of the other man's face. Jordan's nose instantly started leaking blood behind the hand he'd put over it.

"She is not a whore. She just doesn't fucking want you, asshole."

He grabbed her hand and lead her out of the bar before the owner even had a chance to kick them out. Evelyn and Ashley followed closely behind.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Evelyn asked, concern written on her face like a book.

"I am," the girl meekly assured, rubbing her arm where the creep had grabbed her.

"Um," Ashley started, glancing between Y/N and Dean pointedly, "We're gonna go. We'll call you later to check on you."

"Yeah," Evelyn agreed, sensing the mood. She turned to Dean as they walked to her car, "Get her home safe."

"Always," he promised, waving goodbye to the girls and turning to his favorite. "What the hell were you doing, talking to a guy like that, sweetheart?"

"I..." she stuttered. She didn't want to lay all her cards out on the table just yet. "I don't know. I liked him."

Dean cocked a brow, "Him? Really? See, I just don't believe that."

She rolled her eyes and stomped her foot petulantly, "I thought it would be a distraction, Dean."

"From what?" he asked, as if he really didn't know. Her eyes averted to the ground and she pursed her lips awkwardly. That told him everything. "From me?"

"I think about you more than I should. I just knew you would come back, so I've been waiting for you, but I didn't know when, so I wanted a distraction."

"How many distractions have you looked for?"

"He was the first one. And I didn't plan to sleep with him or anything. I just thought the conversation would be good for me. Turns out it wasn't."

"Well you don't have to answer to me, sweetheart. But you should know, I've been thinking about you, too."

"Really?"

"I've been trying to get back. It's just been impossible. We've been so busy with hunt after hunt, and there haven't been any here."

"If there's not a hunt here, then why are you here?"

"There was an easy one close to home. I sent Sam on it alone for a couple days and I drove here."

Her eyes met his, and she saw how worn down he was. The innocence in his eyes was dwindling every day. Her heart ached for him, wishing she could lighten the load. Wishing she could take some of it away for him.

"Take me home," she demanded, her voice sweeter than her words. He nodded, leading her to the impala and opening the passenger side door for her.

The car ride was silent. As was the walk up to her apartment. Neither of them knew what to say. All of the feelings from before were still there, in fact they were stronger than they'd been the first time.

They stood awkwardly at her door for a moment, and she cleared her throat to ease it, "You can stay here tonight, Dean. You don't have to find a cheap motel."

"I actually already have one. But I'd still rather stay here, if you're sure it's okay."

She let him in and he sat on her couch as she walked to her bedroom to change. She threw on a tank top and a pair of spandex shorts, rushing back to his side. She didn't want to be away from him for too long. Really, she didn't want to waste a moment of the time she had with him.

"How long are you here for?" she asked.

"Until tomorrow afternoon."

She couldn't stop the sorrow from creeping into her smile, "Well at least we have a little bit of time."

"I need more with you."

"I know," she sighed, "But this will do. Are you hungry? I'm gonna make something to eat."

"I'll help you," he offered, following her into the kitchen.

They threw together some burgers and fries, and she handed him the remote, instructing him to find a movie. He did, The Untouchables, mumbling something about it being his favorite of all time.

Before they knew it, they were sitting next to each other on the couch, plates empty and discarded, movie almost over.

"You were right. The movie was good," she mused as the credits began to roll.

"I’m always right,” he smirked, turning the TV off and carrying the plates to the kitchen, washing them before she could protest.

A loud yawn burst from her lips as she joined him, placing the newly clean plates in her cabinet.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll still be here in the morning,” he told her.

“I’m not ready to go to bed yet, I don’t want to let you out of my sight,” she whined in protest.

He chuckled, pulling her into his chest and squeezing. She took the moment to breathe him in,

“Hey Dean, why’d you go to the bar when you got to town instead of to my apartment?” she’d been wondering for hours but hadn’t had the chance to ask yet. Finally, she said fuck it and went for it.

“I came here first. You weren’t home, and it’s a Saturday night. I figured the bar was a good place to start looking for you.”

Her heart warmed, swelling in her chest.

“Let’s just have a living room sleepover and watch movies til we fall asleep,” she suggested, pulling just far enough away to look at him.

“Or, and feel free to say no or slap me or whatever you think is appropriate, I could sleep with you tonight? We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be next to you.”

And he meant it. He’d never been so eager to simply sleep in the company of a woman in his life. He wanted more, sure, but he was fine with just holding her. She was warm, and she smelled of vanilla and strawberries. She was comfort and she felt like he’d found a home. Hunting didn’t really allow him one of those, so he savored her.

“Come on,” her voice was barely over a whisper as she pulled him by his hand to her room.

He had to fight the urge to inhale as he walked in. Her scent was so heavy in the room he could wrap up in it like a blanket. He felt like he was becoming addicted, and he dreaded leaving the next day. She was just as perfect, if not more so, than he remembered, and he didn’t understand how she came so easily to him when nobody else ever had.

“You’re welcome to shower before you go to sleep. I have some extra boxers that I think might fit you,” she hummed as she flitted about, cleaning up as much as she could. She wasn’t expecting him, and her stomach was in knots, butterflies fluttering in there like she’d never felt.

“Why do you have boxers laying around?” he asked, brows furrowed, a twinge of jealousy tainting his voice.

“Evelyn stayed over a few months ago with her ex boyfriend and they forgot to bring his boxers, so they went to the store and got some. He only used one pair out of the pack, the other two are still in there. I’m pretty sure he left a T shirt too, but I’d have to look for it,” she explained. She felt empowered by his slight jealousy; it made her feel wanted.

“Just the boxers will do,” he smiled, and she reached into one of her dresser drawers to fish the package out for him.

He went to shower and while he was gone, her nerves got the best of her. She paced, almost frantic, heart beating out of her chest. What if he made a move? What if he didn’t make a move? She hadn’t become less insecure since he’d last been there, and she worried about whether or not he even liked her. Maybe it was just a friendship thing for him. Maybe it was a pity thing. Maybe he didn’t want to see her at all, and just stumbled into her at the bar by accident.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, drawing her out of her panicked state. She stood frozen when she laid eyes on him, his hair wet and his chest bare. The boxers fit perfectly and her eyes widened when she noticed what they were hiding. It was…. intimidating, to say the least.

“Yes!” she squeaked out, jumping under the covers, willing the flush to leave her cheeks.

He climbed in beside her as she turned on her bedroom TV, putting on an old movie and turning the volume down for background noise.

“I can go to the couch if you’re uncomfortable,” he offered. His concern for her was evident.

“I’m not,” she said, all too quickly. “I just… I can’t believe you came back. Why did you come back?”

He sighed, heavy and thoughtful, “You’re all I’ve thought about since I met you. I talk about you all the time. I didn’t send Sammy on that hunt alone, he went without telling me and called me on the way. Told me to drive here and see you before he goes crazy.”

“Why are you so interested in me?”

“I guess for the same reason you’re so interested in me. It’s not something I can explain. It’s just something I feel.”

“Yeah,” she paused, “Tonight is the first night I’ve gone out since you left. I’ve been waiting for a knock at my door like an idiot. You’ve.. you’ve vexed me.”

“You vexed me first.”

She met his eyes, startled by how close he was to her.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Trust me. Close your eyes.”

She did as he asked. She hoped he’d kiss her, but she was only half expecting him to, doubt gnawing at her like a dog with a bone.

It let go of her, though, the second his lips met hers.

It was the kind of kiss a girl doesn’t forget. Heavy, and soft, and passionate, and desperate. And sweet. So sweet. His taste was burned into her memory and if she was ruined before, she was much worse for wear now.

He slipped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, embracing her like he’d wanted to since the moment they met. She whined, needy and pliant, and he had to fight the urge to groan. He’d never felt want like he did with her. She made him feel like he could do anything.

She arched her back into him, wanting to be closer. She thought she’d die without more of him right that second. His bare skin taunted her, warm and hard and inviting. Her nipples hardened through her thin tank top, pushing against him, creating the most beautiful friction. She couldn’t hold back her moan when his tongue brushed against hers, and her leg found it’s way over his hip, her core meeting his in a fit of need.

The groan he’d been saving came out full force, his hand sliding over the curve of her ass, pulling her closer, wanting…. wanting…. wanting. Only then did the kiss slow, coming to a sweet and breathless end.

“Maybe we should wait,” he suggested.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“I’d rather work for you, sweetheart. I don’t want this to be something you regret. I want it to be perfect, like you deserve. And I just don’t think I deserve you quite yet.”

“Dean..” she breathed out, unsure of what to say. He was so… careful with her. It turned her into a puddle. “We can wait. But you deserve everything.”

“You are everything.”

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Tag List: @stoneyggirl2 @winchestergypsy90 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @deansbbyx @siospins2 @gatorgal94 @classyunknownlover @jbcalway @djs8891 @mishapocalyse @justrealizedimmascifygurl @ellie-andthemachine @sassy-pelican @tmb510 @superwholockisdabest

#dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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ticklygiggles · 10 months

Text

Heroic Feat | Scaramouche & Elise (commissioner's oc)

A/N: Last commission for @thornoisdono! Thank you very much for your kind support and patience! I hope you enjoy this!

I think this is the longest fic I've ever written and I don't think I'll do such thing again LOL jasnjsf

Summary: Scaramouche is in a stupid mission with the traveler, but they somehow end up separated and Scaramouche has a very interesting encounter.

Words: 7k

Where the heck was Aether?!

This was so frustrating. Seriously, Scaramouche only took his eyes off Aether for one second, he simply looked behind him when he felt a presence following them, but when he turned back around to tell Aether about it, the traveler was no longer there, not even his little fairy. Were they taken by the presence Scaramouche felt earlier?

He hated this. He knew this was a bad idea as soon as Lesser God Kusanali told him about it. Why did he have to accompany Aether, the traveler who had conquered four, (or more), regions of Teyvat by his own, to this stupid mission? Of course this was one of Lesser God Kusanali's attempts to help him redeem himself for what he had done in the past, and, even though Nahida wouldn’t admit it right in front of his face, this was also to make him socialize and start to feel a bit more… human?

He couldn’t deny that he felt a certain warm sensation swirling inside his chest knowing that Nahida actually worried about him so tenderly; it felt nice and actually motivated him in certain way to be better, so she could feel proud of him- but those were thoughts he wouldn’t dare to say to anyone, not even to Nahida herself. Thoughts that he wouldn’t even think in that moment if it weren't because, out of wanting to make Nahida proud, he had agreed to come on this stupid expedition with Aether and now they were both lost.

Scaramouche sighed heavily, looking from right to left, hoping to find a single clue that would tell him where Aether had gone, but he couldn’t even find one of his long golden hairs. Had Aether been swallowed by the earth? He wouldn’t doubt it taking in consideration the place they were in. The Wanderer wasn’t exactly sure if they were still in Teyvat, he never knew of such lands like these, so far away from any civilization.

Every few moments, he would think that they were in Liyue, if the amber rocks meant anything, but then he would catch a glimpse of a Windwheel Aster that made him think that they were, in fact, in the City of Freedom. However, he would think twice after seeing an Onikabuto bug climbing up a tree surrounded by Rukkhashava Mushrooms and Padisarahs.

That place was nothing Scaramouche had seen before and it made him feel worried about Aether and his fairy. Were they caught by an unknown monster? Did they fall into an underground trap? Did they get sucked into a domain? Were they kidnapped?

Worse still, what was Buer going to say when Scaramouche told her that not only had he lost the traveler and his little friend, but that they were…

Scaramouche shook his head with a growl. The best decision was to go ahead; clearly the traveler was not going to disappear off the face of the earth so easily, was he? Scaramouche would eventually find him and then they could pick up that stupid book they came looking for and they would leave as soon as possible. This place was more than Scaramouche could bear and he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

But things never go the way you want and he realized that when, after having passed a dense wall of bushes, a giant mansion stood right in front of him. He fought the urge to groan; if Aether wasn't in there, then he was gone forever.

Sighing heavily once more, Scaramouche reluctantly headed towards the mansion. He had never seen architecture like it, they were definitely not in Teyvat anymore.

He couldn't tell exactly what that mansion was. A house? A church? He had never seen such a construction, but for a moment he thought that a certain blond architect he knew would have liked to see this.

The closer he got to the building, the better he could appreciate every detail. This building had a very distinctive ornate style, it seemed that the entire structure was made of stone, vines climbing up the walls made it look like an abandoned place.

Ahem…

The sloping roofs, for some reason, gave him a headache and the towers and chimney seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky and it seemed as if, on a small flat part on the roof, there was some kind of garden, protected by metal with intricate designs that even Scaramouche thought looked pretty.

He had never seen so many windows in one single structure, there were more windows in this mansion than walls. The arches of the windows were perfectly rounded or rose to a small point and he could see a glass door in a balcony, also with a perfectly rounded arch and a strange pattern just above. Was it some kind of crest?

Before he knew it, he was already standing in front of the door and was surprised to see that even on the wood of the door frame, it could be seen pretty patterns of flowers, leaves and more shapes that all together made it really something exquisite to see. Scaramouche fought the urge to caress the details with his fingertips.

Up close, the mansion was huge. No matter how much he craned his neck back, he never seemed to be able to see the top of the mansion.

Did he really need to knock on the door? Perhaps he could only get in? Yet again, this was a strange place, what if he activated some kind of mechanism when he opened the door? He did a quick inspection with his eyes, and it certainly didn't seem any different from a common door.

Barging in would be. He lifted one of his legs, feeling the air around him wrap around his calf and swirl under the sole of his shoe, just as he was about to kick the beautiful door open, it opened of its own accord and Scaramouche held his breath, surprised to see someone right in front of him.

A young lady smiled dangerously at him, behind her red lips two sharp fangs peeked out and Scaramouche realized at that moment that they were definitely not in Teyvat. He had never seen a… person with fangs this long and sharp, countless beasts, of course, but never a human unless, of course, this girl in front of him was not a human.

Her long violet hair almost reached her heels and the ends of it ended in small curls that bounced slightly with her movements. Her clothing was… eccentric and he reminded him a little of the type of clothing La Signora used to wear, but he quickly shook off that memory and tried to tear his eyes away from all of this girl's exposed skin.

Her shirt fell open, exposing her clavicle and much of her chest. Her dress hugged her figure so much that Scaramouche felt a little suffocated just looking at it. The skirt of her outfit ended a little higher than the middle of her thighs and her legs were clad in long stockings that reached mid-thigh, garter belts hugging the top of her legs, disappearing under her skirt.

She had a lovely face and her large eyes shone with a strange reddish color. Her whole person exuded 'danger', from the twinkle in her eyes, the mischievous smile on her lips, and that overly confident stance. The alarms in Scaramouche's brain began to ring and he thought that this was the only person who could hold Aether and Paimon captive. He at least had found the culprit.

"Like what you see?"

The girl's voice snapped him back to reality and he arched an eyebrow as he lowered her leg and crossed her arms over her chest, dissatisfied. The girl laughed, and it seemed to Scaramouche that her laughter sounded like little bells ringing all at the same time. Annoying.

"Well," she continued, looking Scaramouche up and down. "I see you're not from around here either, right?" She cocked her head like a confused bird. "That blonde boy and his floating pet looked just as weird as you.” Scaramouche could tell she was trying to taunt him, make him react with her words, but he remained expressionless, an almost bored expression on his features, but that didn’t stop her. “From their clothes to the way they talked and, well, you don't see a child flying around every day, do you?"

Well, it was clear that she had seen Aether and Paimon around, and Scaramouche was almost certain that she had them captive, perhaps in a secret room inside this huge house?

“Where are they?” He spat, hoping that the girl would actually tell him Aether’s location so they could finally leave, but of course, things weren’t going to be that easy. He felt terribly tired.

Her whole face lighted up and she let out a soft, excited gasp. “Ah, so you can talk! And what a nice voice you have! What is your name? I am Elise!”

“I do not care about that. Tell me where they are.”

Elise smirked, glancing at him with a humorous look, an eyebrow arched. “Now now, that’s not very nice, is it? That’s how you treat someone you just met?”

“No. Worst.”

He did not like this situation at all, as their bickering continued, Elise seemed to get more and more excited; she looked tremendously happy and dangerous all at the same time. It made Scaramouche feel uneasy in so many ways. For a moment, he thought this whole situation was the most interesting thing that had happened to her in a long time. She was like a hungry beast, now that she had had a taste of a delicious meal, she was not going to stop eating it until it was completely finished. Scaramouche winced.

Lesser God Kusanali… do you really need that stupid artifact?

“I don’t have time for this,” Scaramouche said, taking a step forward. “Tell me where they are right now or else I’ll-

“I’m a vampire, you know?” She interrupted him and Scaramouche frowned. “I can suck your blood until you’re nothing but an empty vessel. Useless and pathetic. Writhing like a worm with these,” she pointed at her bangs, “sunk into your skin. Sounds fun to me, what about you?”

Scaramouche bared his teeth. “I don’t care who or what you are,” he said, looking her up and down. “If you don’t tell me where they are, I am going to kill your right here and now and I will destroy-

“Tch, tch, tch.” She shook her head, a fake sad expression overtaking her features. “You have such a nasty mouth. You don’t tell me your name and then you threaten me?” She sighed, shaking her head. “What a shame, with that terrible attitude of yours I certainly can’t help you get to your little friends you worry so much about!”

He fought the sudden warmth wanting to spread over his cheeks. They weren’t… his friends. He had no friends, the only thing he could ever have were enemies and many of them. He’s done so many outrageous things, he was not one worth of friendship. He did not wish to meddle with those weak foolish creatures that Nahida fervently wished he had some connection with. Having any type of feelings towards expirable beings, changing emotions, who did not know how to measure the magnitude of their words- no. Scaramouche wanted nothing to do with them… and yet, a question was asked in his head, a question he dismissed immediately, but settled in the middle of his chest.

Could Aether ever see him as a friend? Could this traveler stop being alert around Scaramouche all the time and start enjoying spending time with him just because?

Hah, ridiculous.

This was no time to think stupid things, it was clear that Elise was tempting him, she could hear in her voice the desire to make some kind of deal with him. He didn't like the idea, but if it had to be that way, then so be it.

“Unless, of course…”

There it was.

“What do you want?” He asked, knowing from the beginning that he was going to despite anything she said to him.

Elise giggled, covering her mouth with one of her hands before catching a strand of long hair and twirling it around her long fingers. “Well, you’ll see… You are not a human, right?” She sent a glance to him and Scaramouche stiffened a little, feeling strangely vulnerable.

“So what?” He barked, squinting his eyesa and Elise lifted her hands, showing both her palms.

“I’m just curious,” she said with a big grin. “I'm usually pretty good at deciphering the species of all the creatures I come across, but you... what are you?” She squinted and stared at Scaramouche's face as if the answers for her questions would magically appear on his forehead. “So, I would like to do some… tests on you, nothing too intense, I promise. I just have a feeling that you’ll refuse to tell me exactly what you are, so I’ll have to find out by myself!”

A certain unpleasant sensation tightened his chest, but Scaramouche didn’t show any discomfort, on the contrary, he chuckled and shrugged. “I’ve been tested plenty of times before.” For the first time Scaramouche saw something else flash in Elise’s eyes besides mischief, perhaps a bit of surprise? “I surely can take whatever you want to do, but I will only accept if you tell me where-

She rolled her eyes, now showing disgust. “Yes, yes yes, I will. Aish, you really like those two huh?”

Scaramouche scowled, “I do not. They’re under my care, that’s why.”

“Oh, poor things. Now I feel bad for them,” she cooed and Scaramouche sent her a nasty look, making her laugh.

Elise welcomed Scaramouche into her home and she babbled a little about the construction and everything related to every single detail in the huge mansion. Scaramouche barely paid any attention and he simply nodded and hummed here and there, but he knew Elise knew he wasn’t listening, she just enjoyed talking and would continue even if Scaramouche was unconscious.

That awkward sensation was still swirling within him. Making him somehow nauseous. He thought that Buer would probably feel a little sad knowing that someone experimented on him, especially after past events, so he would probably leave that part out once they returned and she asked him for a verbal report. Thinking about her big eyes glowing with excitement made him feel a little less sick. He hoped this could end soon.

“Here we are!”

He never thought there would be some kind of laboratory inside this mansion, but there it was. Exceptionally cold and terribly equipped with bottles filled with colorful substances and tools that he didn’t even want to know what they were used for. In the middle of the lab, there was some kind of bed that looked far from comfortable, four little versions of beds sticking from three sides, those were for the arms and legs, Scaramouche knew and he made his way to it without even blinking an eye.

“Oh, how did you know- oh.” For once she closed her mouth and the air was suddenly filled with awkwardness, Scaramouche let out a breath through his nose, a soft humorless chuckle that made Elise turn a little pink. “A-Anyways, yes. Lay down right there.”

She didn’t need to tell him as he was already laying down, getting himself as comfortable as he could as his limbs spread over the extensions of the bed and he couldn’t help but tense a little when Elise was suddenly by his side, studying him with her eyes, he could see excitement brimming on them. She smiled brightly and quickly dragged a wheeled side table close to the bed Scaramouche was in. He saw some tools and he winced slightly.

“Are you not going to tie me?”

Elise was surprised by his sudden question and he arched a brow, urging her to answer.

“I won’t,” she said, perhaps a little too serious, making Scaramouche feel slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t plan to do anything too crazy on you, you know?” She said, scribbling on a worn out notebook. “Just a few examinations.”

“Mhm, whatever. Get to it quickly.”

Elise rolled her eyes, but she went into action right away. From head to toe, Scaramouche was carefully examined.

“Your resistance to pain is actually amazing,” she said, writing on her notes. “I hope it wasn’t too terrible.”

Scaramouche shrugged, he wasn’t even sweating. “Are you done?”

“Hmm, I just want to keep checking the sensitivity of your skin,” she said, quickly sending a glance to all the spots where she could see Scaramouche’s bare, milky skin. “I already saw how good you are at tolerating pain, those tests weren’t as bad either, were they?”

She smirked playfully and Scaramouche wanted to whine. Was it really worth it to do this for Aether? In the end that traveler would know how to get out on his own, Scaramouche could just wait for him sitting comfortably on a rock or on a tree branch, right? Lesser god Kusanali would not even know that he-

“Haa!” A sudden gasp escaped him as he heavily jerked his leg away from the touch of her icy fingers. “What the hell are you trying-

Elise giggled, “well, that was certainly a good reaction. Did that tickle?”

Tickle?! Scaramouche widened his eyes. Oh no. It hadn’t been long since he was forced to find out that he was, much to his absolute embarrassment, extremely ticklish, or at least, way more ticklish than what he liked to admit. His mind still couldn’t wrap around the idea of him being so sensitive to some stupid light touches to his skin.

And oh, how much he hated it when the traveler decided to ambush him with those wiggly fingers digging under his arms or squeezing that terrible spot on his inner thighs- no matter how many times Aether would say he looked rather happy and like he was enjoying himself, of course he was not enjoying himself. Not in the slightest… he liked to say that, but he couldn’t deny that that overwhelming sensation, that always made him felt breathless and so out of control, also made him feel light and human and something warm always spread inside his chest when he could see, (through teary eyes), that Aether always looked so happy while he was reducing him into a laughing, cackling mess.

He always smiled kindly, not like he was trying to make Scaramouche suffer some kind of torture, but just like he wanted… to have fun with him, even that little flying thingy, always so weary around Scaramouche, looked she was having fun with him, telling Aether where to tickle him next and giggling like a kid as she heard Scaramouche laughing his head off.

But he would always say that he hated it, especially around this girl!

“Oh? Are you very ticklish?” She teased, and Scaramouche bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing when her fingers wiggled against his knee, his body, however, acted by instinct and his leg jerked away again. She laughed, “oh heavens, we’re gonna have so much fun!”

“Do not do this,” he warned, scowling at her. “I let you do your little stupid experiments on me already, so now you should stop this and-

“I did say,” she started, interrupting him for the umpteenth time that day, “that I was going to tell you about your little friend’s whereabouts after I did my tests and I haven’t finished them,” she said, looking at him with a glint in her eyes. “So, are you going to take it or are you going to go and try to find them on your own?”

Scaramouche wanted to growl at her. Was she saying that he had to endure being tickled by her just so he could know where the hell were Paimon and Aether? That was ridiculous! Why did he have to put up with that humiliation just for the sake of the traveler? Yet again… would Aether be upset if Scaramouche didn’t help him out? Nahida most definitely would. Besides, what would they both say if they ever found out that he couldn’t save Aether because he couldn’t stand some stupid tickling?

That was even worse still!

Scaramouche huffed, looked at Elise and nodded, making her squeal and clap excitedly.

“Good choice you’ve made, dear stranger!” She said, putting her notebook and pencil aside, causing Scaramouche to feel a wave of nervousness rushing through him. “I think we should start here,” she said, moving to the end of the kind of bed where Scaramouche was laying. “I really don’t understand your weird outfit at all, but aren’t you cold having your toes all uncovered like this?”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes. “You are one to talk about weird outfits, have you seen your s-sehehelf? A-Ack!”

“Hey! What do you mean by that? I look glorious in this outfit, you’re just jealous. And no holding back! Can’t you see I’m trying to see your reactions? So don’t keep yourself from laughing!”

Scaramouche whined as he curled his toes, she had undone his sandals rather quickly and now was scribbling her fingers up and down his soles. It tickled so bad, and Scaramouche wanted to laugh already, but would he give her the gratification to see him laughing already? Probably yes, because he wanted this to stop quickly.

“Nnghh– stahahap!” Ugh he hated to giggle! He gripped the edges of the bed and tried to keep his feet as still as he could, but when her long fingers scratched under his toes, he couldn’t help but jerk his feet away with a loud laugh. “I sahahahaid stahahap!”

“And I’m telling you not to move or else I’ll have to start all over again!” She said and even though she wanted to sound threatening, there was laughter mixing in her voice. “Hmm, toes seem to be very sensitive, right under them?”

Scaramouche squeaked as she continued to tickle under his toes. The scritch-scratch of her fingernails against his sensitive skin was making impossible the task to keep his feet still. That was, indeed, one of his weakest spots and she found it so quickly! Her nails scribbled against the balls of his feet, focusing on that protruding bone on the side of his foot, near his big toe that had him throwing his head back with louder laughter.

His arches weren’t any better and when she reached them, he moved his feet away with a cackle, quickly putting them in place again so she could continue her stupid tests.

“Oh goodness, I can’t tell what spot in your feet is more sensitive! You’re just so ticklish!”

Scaramouche felt warmth spreading across his cheeks, burning around his ears and traveling all the way down to his neck. He knew he was ticklish, was it too necessary to be reminded about it?! Was she going to keep tickling him until she found his weakest spot on his feet? Might as well help her out.

“Ihihit’s uhuhundeheher my tohohoes- ahahaha!” That was a bad idea after all.

“Right here? Right underneath? Look how you try to curl your toes! Does it tickle that-

“It dohohohoes!” Scaramouche growled between loud laughs. “Juhuhust mohohove ohohon!”

Elise laughed, but she kept tickling Scaramouche there until he was laughing nearly in hysterics and almost kicking her right in the face. When she finally stopped, Scaramouche heaved his weight back into the uncomfortable bed, breathing heavily and trying to move his fingers that had gone stiff from gripping the bed with nearly all his strength.

“Are you good there?” Elise asked. “Need some water or something?”

Scaramouche shook his head. “J-Just keep going. I want to finish with this soon.”

Elise chuckled, moving now to Scaramouche’s legs. “Is that so? I thought you were enjoying it.”

If it was Aether then maybe, but– no, no, no, no! What is he even thinking about right now?! Ah, he really hoped Nahida would be really happy and proud of him when they finally made it out of here.

“Okay, let us continue.” Elise’s voice made him jump a little and Scaramouche flinched slightly, making her giggle. “Maybe I’ll tickle you here next,” she said, her hands hovering over his thighs and knees.

Scaramouche couldn’t help but widen his eyes. He so desperately wanted to tell her to not tickle him there, but he knew any plea would fall into deaf ears, if anything, he thought she’d be even meaner if he admitted that that was, in fact, his most ticklish spot. He sent a quick glance to Elise and tightly shut his eyes when he saw her smirking at him. He could handle this, he could handle this. He just needed to laugh as hard as he could to give her what she wanted and this experiment would be over, he just–

“EEEEK!” A loud, surprised shriek escaped his lips when, instead of feeling her fingers digging into the sensitive muscles of his thighs, they latched to his hips and squeezed at his flesh in the most ticklish way possible.

Scaramouche tipped his head back with loud laughter, his arms embracing himself as his knees moved up, trying to protect his hip bones. He squirmed and shook, but Elise easily followed him as if her hands were glued to his body.

“I think I’ll leave your thighs for later,” Elise said with laughter in her voice as she clawed at Scaramouche’s hips. “I have a feeling they’ll be very fun to tickle!”

“N-Nohohoho! Gahahaha! Stahahap!”

“You know,” she said, her hands moving to wiggle at his lower stomach. “It is pretty hard to tell where you are the most ticklish when you’re this ticklish all over.”

Scaramouche shook his head, embarrassing giggles making his body shake as she vibrated her fingers in that space between his hips. “Yohohu juhuhust sahahaid you wahahanted totestmysensitivity– stahahahap!”

Elise nodded, “I want to check your sensitivity, but I also need to make a map of all of your good spots to see if they are related in any kind of way.”

That didn’t make any sense, and by the playfulness mingling in her voices, Scaramouche knew that she knew she was talking nonsense, but he could barely pay any mind as the maddening sensation was making him laugh and giggle so hard. By now, he could only focus on her fingers tickling him all over.

She grew bored of his sweet giggles soon and Scaramouche squeaked when he felt her hands moving upwards towards his belly, sneaking under his tunic to have better access to all of his torso. Elise scribbled her fingers against his tummy, making him arch his back with bright giggles as he embraced himself tighter, trying to stop himself from pushing her hands away. The fabric of his black undershirt was not helpful at all for it only made it easier for her fingernails to scratch at the sensitive skin of his stomach.

Scaramouche didn’t hold back any sound, not wanting to make her tickle him for longer than necessary, so his squeaks, shrieks, giggles and laughs came out freely, embarrassing him to the core, especially that stupid high-pitched sound he let out when she circled his belly button before dipping a single finger in, wiggling it around until she made him snort.

Elise gasped, “snorting already? I’m barely starting, though!” She said, fanning her fingers out to grab a hold of Scaramouche’s lower sides, her thumbs sinking into the sides of his stomach. “Your stomach seems very ticklish, but it’s not as bad as your hips, right?” Scaramouche simply nodded. “Yes, I see. So far your feet are still in first place, your hips in second, but let’s see how I can bring out more of that loud laughter of yours.”

Scaramouche whined between laughs as she started to squeeze her way up his sides towards his ribcage. Once there, his laughter turned a tad bit more desperate and he unconsciously tried to wrap his arms around his ribs, but she stopped him.

“Nuh-uh! You can’t do that, you’ll mess up my testing!” Scaramouche growled, but he quickly moved his arms away and back to where he was gripping that bed earlier, but Elise stopped him again. “I think over your head would be better.”

Scaramouche gasped, shaking his head. “Ahahahare you crahahazy?! I cahahan’t!”

Elise shrugged, a smirk on her lips as her fingers came to a stop. “If you can’t, then I’ll have to stop and you’ll never know where your little friends are. It’s up to you, handsome boy.”

He whined. Oh, he really hoped Nahida welcomed him back with a great banquet or something. Trembling and with his body begging him not to do it, he raised his hands above his head, his hands holding tightly at the upper edge of the bed, he took a deep breath and looked up at Elise.

“Thehere, are you happy now? You better finish this up quickly or else I- AHAHAHA!!

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said as her fingers started to claw at his exposed ribs. Scaramouche arched his back and kicked his legs, tears of laughter were already prickling at his eyes. “You keep threatening me, how mean!”

“You keheheep dohohoing so too– Ahahaha! Wait! Wahahahait!”

She didn’t know, but Scaramouche could positively howl with laughter if someone were to tickle his ribs one by one, he had found this out thanks to Aether, of course, so he couldn’t help but grow desperate when he felt her nimble fingers rubbing deep circles to both of his lowest ribs.

“I cannot wait, sorry,” she said, with no regret in her voice. “But, hey, I wonder how many ribs you have. Do you have any more or less?”

Scaramouche shrieked, shaking his head. “I hahahave twenty-fohohour! Twehehehenty- nahahahaha!”

And so, the counting started, and as Scaramouche expected it, Elise lost count many times, claiming that he was moving too much, even when he was doing his best to not squirm so she could finish soon. How much he hated his stupid ribs, why did they have to be so damn ticklish? And why did Elise have to focus the most on those ribs that made him laugh like a mad man? The eighth ribs, counting from bottom to top, were Scaramouche’s weakness, along with the highest ones, close to his underarms, and it didn’t take Elise long to figure that out, her fingertips clawing into the sensitive skin.

“Whoa, your ribs really are ticklish!” She said, giggling as Scaramouche nearly lost his mind. “I think- hey!” Scaramouche’s arms came flying back down to wrap around his ribs, trapping her hands right against his most sensitive set of ribs. “Now, lift your arms! You were doing so well!”

Scaramouche gasped, shaking his head before throwing it back with shrieking laughter.

“Ahahahare y-you ahahaout of your mihihihind?!” He laughed, jolting with a squeak when he felt her fingers massaging into his poor ribs, driving him up the wall. “I cahahan’t!”

“I’ll have to stick here, then,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, a bright smile curling her lips as a soft blush covered her cheeks. “I wonder how crazy I can drive you with just tickling your ribs? They seem plenty sensitive already.” It was a miracle that Scaramouche could hear her over his laughter. “Hey, I wonder, are you getting any more ticklish the more I tickle you here?”

There were only two options: say yes and hope that she will stop for a moment to let him catch his breath or say no and suffer the consequences of his stubbornness. For Scaramouche, the answer was quite clear.

“YEHEHES! Yehehehes, plehehase!”

“Oh, poor you.”

As much as he wanted to act tough and unfaced by it, he honestly was just too ticklish and he needed a break, so he was glad when Elise did stop, even though her words made him think that she wouldn’t. She pulled her hands away from his body and placed them behind her back, perhaps to give him the assurance that she wouldn’t start right away.

Scaramouche gulped in air, his body going limp into the uncomfortable bed. He was sweating already, his clothes were askew, his tunic falling off one his shoulders, his hair was messy and a deep blush covered his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He was shaking slightly, his nervous system vibrating after all of that stimulation. He hoped Elise would tell him that that was all, but he knew it wasn’t. She hadn’t even gotten his worst spot and she surely looked excitedly at that tiny crevice between his chest and arm, letting him know that she really wanted to tickle him under his arms.

How long has it been? He felt like he had been there for days, his mind feeling a little funny, like his brain was short-circuiting, his body was tingling all over and he just couldn’t erase the forced smile upon his ribs. Ugh, really! Why did he have to grow fond of Aether and Paimon?!

“I think you can raise your arms now, right?” She suddenly said, now that Scaramouche was breathing a little more easily, her voice making him jump slightly. “I think you can raise your arms now, right? We still have some spots to go and, I’ll just let you know, I didn’t leave any water or food for your cute friends.”

Scaramouche whined deep inside himself. His underarms were already driving him crazy with phantom tickles, he was one hundred percent sure that he wouldn’t be able to stand tickling down there, not even a single poke, but even so, he swallowed thickly and started to unwrap himself from his self embrace.

Elise giggled and he was a little thankful when she took a step back. He felt so stupid lifting his arms above his head, grippin the edge of the bed again. His arms were trembling so hard and it took him a whole minute to lift them completely to expose himself, but the worst definitely was the fact that laughter was bubbling in his chest already.

Elise seemed to notice as she laughed. “Are you nervous now? Don’t worry, you’ll have lots of fun.”

Scaramouche growled. “Just s-start already! You just keep- AHAHAHAHA!”

She seemed to love that. Start tickling him when he was mid sentence. His arms came down miserably as soon as her fingers dug into his hyper ticklish armpits, her hands sneaking past his tunic and touching his skin directly thanks to the sleeveless undershirt he wore. He arched his back and pressed his arms as tightly as he could against his sides, but her fingers still wiggled and pinched at his skin. He was nearly in hysterics, tears of laughter rolling down the sides of his face and into his hairline. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything else that wasn’t the intense sensation rushing through him.

And this was not even his most ticklish spot.

Oh, Lesser Lord Kusanali, have mercy on him.

“Oh heavens,” Elise said with laughter in her voice. “Aren’t you just too ticklish for your own good?”

Scaramouche didn’t know this, (and he would be glad to never know this), but he was a delight to tickle. Maybe that was the reason why Aether enjoyed doing so so much. His ticklishness was ridiculous, but at the same time so adorable. It was impossible to think that such a stubborn and rude person was just this sensitive to tickling and perhaps, it brought out a kind of sadistic side on everyone one, a need to turn that frown upside down and force a big, bright smile on his handsome face.

Besides that, his laughter was just so cute. So high pitched and bubbly, almost childish. It was nearly impossible to not laugh along with him and his smile, even though he wanted to, it looked so sincere and happy. It was a mystery to everyone to know he was actually enjoying it or not… to everyone except for Aether of course.

Scaramouche was positively losing his mind. “STAHAHAP! I CAHAHAN’T!”

Elise giggled, “you can’t what? Your arms are not even up anymore,” she said, speeding her tickling to make Scaramouche shriek. “But it doesn’t really matter, you’ve trapped my hands anyway, so I will only stop until you lift your arms, how does that sound?”

He shook his head. Incapable to utter any other sound that wasn't his cackly, nearly hysterical laughter. He could barely squirm, his body stiff in rather a weird attempt to prevent Elise’s fingers from wiggling under his poor arms, but of course that didn’t work, and Scaramouche could only laugh and laugh and laugh, feeling ticklish sparks rushing through his whole body. The tickles under his arms quickly spread to his upper ribs and soon his laughter had gone silent, his body shaking and vibrating.

“Oops,” Elise said with a little giggle as her fingers stilled and she pulled her hands out from under Scaramouche’s arms. “I think I broke you, will you be able to stand some more tickling?”

Scaramouche shook his head as his laughter got its volume back and it quickly faded into giggles and then heavy breaths.

“N-Nohoho,” he said, trembling slightly and blinking away tears of laughter. “I’ll- Ihihi’ll dihihie…”

“Oh, you’re so dramatic,” she said, playfully rolling her eyes. “It is no fun if you die, is it? I still want to try just one more spot, okay?”

Scaramouche gulped, shaking his head again. He knew what spot she was talking about and he was not sure he would really survive a second of it. Not if Elise acted as merciless as she had done so far.

Elise smirked, placing a single hand over Scaramouche's knee, making him jerk and shriek. Elise laughed, throwing her head back.

"Oh, c'mon, it cannot be that bad, can it?" She pressed her fingers into the skin, not exactly tickling him, but it made Scaramouche's skin prickle with goosebumps. "I mean, we can stop here, but you will never know where your friends-

Scaramouche growled, "just do it! I want to end this as soon as-s p- ahahaha! I hahahahate yohohou!"

Fingernails skittered against his thighs and knees, little spider-like-legs crawling all over the sensitive skin, making Scaramouche break into hysterical giggling. His legs were trembling, trying to keep them still for those tickles that made him want to crawl out of his skin. Goosebumps covered his thighs and he let out squeaks and shrieks when Elise’s fingers circled around his knees and climbed a bit too high, towards his inner thighs.

Scaramouche could feel every pore in his body exuding sweat as he tried to keep himself from kicking Elise in the face, not because he was any kind, but because he knew she would probably tie him up and start tickling him all over one more time. It was a risk he was not going to take, so he keep himself wide open, feeling on the edge, waiting for her to actually star the torture.

Elise chuckled. “I had a feeling your legs would be very ticklish,” she said, her fingers skittering up, sneaking under Scaramouche’s shorts and digging slightly into the tender, hidden flesh and he let out shrieky, panicky laughter. “Now I’m starting to think I might end up killing you if I really tickle you here!”

“Thehehen dohohon’t! Stahahap ahahalreaAAH! AHAHAHA! STAHAHA!”

Oh, he was expecting it, but he could never get ready for the maddening sensation of fingertips digging into his ticklish flesh, that tender and soft spot just a few centimeters away from his crotch was enough to make him scream with laughter with just a few squeezes. He caved in within seconds, his legs closing together, once again trapping Elise’s hands into his weak spots.

“I can tell this,” she said, almost screaming over Scaramoche’s laughter so he could hear her. “You’re the most ticklish being I’ve ever met, handsome boy.”

Scaramouche wanted to pull his hair out, throw her away, jump out of that damn bed just to make her stop, but he endured. Oh, that little fairy, he hoped Paimon would stop being so on edge around him- not that he was going to tell her he had to do this in order to save her life.

He was doomed. He couldn’t actually say anything about his heroic, (yes, heroic), feat. What would Aether, Paimon and Nahida say?! This couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“FAHAHACK! NAHAHA!”

Oh, it could. Elise was not only tickling his inner thighs, one of her hands had now moved to his hip and the heavy jerk he just did, almost threw him off the bed. He was squirming so hard, and with each of his moves, nice jingly sounds mixed with his laughter, making it sound almost angelical. Not that Scaramouche would ever think that about his crazy, desperate laughter.

“Okahahay! OKAHAHAY!” Scaramouche said, at the verge of going crazy. “Plehehease! Plehehease, STAHAHA-!”

Elise didn’t stop right away, she waited just until his laughter turned a little weezhy and snorty and so, her hands finally left his sensitive body and Scaramouche collapsed into the bed. Gulpin in sweet oxygen as he tried to stop his residual laughter. Not even Aether had dared to tickle him like this- of course, that was because he only wanted to have fun and make Scaramouche light up a bit, on the other hand this girl here… well, he wasn’t really sure what exactly she wanted.

He was surprised and a bit thankful when she lent him a glass of water from Nahida-knows-where. He was a bit suspicious about the liquid, but he had a desert in his mouth and as he sat himself up, he gulped gladly at it and drank the whole thing in one long swallow, choking a little.

“There, there,” she said, patting his back. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

He glared at her and only when he thought he wouldn’t make a fool of himself, he spoke with a hoarse voice. “Are we done?”

Elise grinned widely and his heart dropped to his feet, thinking that she would get him again, his body tingling all over, but she simply nodded, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“Thank you for your kind, kind collaboration with my little experiment, handsome boy,” she said, batting her lashes at him. “I hope we get to see each other again soon.”

He frowned. “I hope not. Now, tell me where- hey!”

Elise snapped her fingers, and in a blink of an eye, Scaramouche found himself out of the mansion and into the path that had led him to Elise’s manor.

Wait.

That little-! Did she deceive him?! That woman! He went through all of that for nothing! Oh, she’d see! He was going to force her to tell him exactly where Aether and Paimon were even if he had to use force and-

“Oh? Scaramouche?” Scaramouche halted, turning around to find Aether. Paimon beside him with that book Nahida wanted so much between her hands. “You’re here! We were worried!”

“Ha?! Paimon was certainly not worried!” She said, but Scaramouche could not even argue back to annoy her, he was just staring at them with wide eyes.

“Where the hell were you?” He said, feeling his cheeks strangely hot.

Aether approached him and he was wearing a little smile that told Scaramouche that the traveler had not been, in fact, kept captive.

“We were looking for you!” Aether said, pointing somewhere deep into the woods. “I was talking to you, but you suddenly weren’t there anymore! Paimon and I were-

“Paimon wasn’t!”

“... Were looking for you, but we kept going in circles, but we thought we heard you laughing?” Scaramouche’s cheeks felt hotter and hotter the more Aether talked. “We tried following the sound, but we just couldn’t find the way! Are you okay? Was it really you laughing?”

Scaramouche sighed. He was really deceived, wasn’t he? He shook his head, looking at Aether as if he was out of his mind.

“Don’t be a fool,” he said, crossing his arms. “Why would I be laughing? I want to go back now.” He snatched the book from Paimon’s hands.

“Hey!”

“So let’s leave before I go crazy. Hurry up.”

“Oh, but do you know the way?”

“Paimon doesn’t want to follow you!”

“I know the way, and if you don’t want to stay here in this stupid place, little fairy, you must follow me, then.”

“Paimon is not a fairy!” She said, stomping her feet in the air and yanking at Aether’s clothes. “Aether! He’s being mean to Paimon!”

Scaramouche chuckled and he quickly made his way through a sudden path both Aether and him failed to notice before. Good, at least she could show them the way out after making him go through tickle hell for nothing!!

#genshin impact #scaramouche #wanderer #ticklish!scaramouche #Other's oc #commissions #mia's commisions #tickle fic

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steinfellds · 1 year

Text

She Isn't Coming Home

Pairing: Mom!WandaNat x Teenager!Reader

Summary: Thanos snapped half your family away five years ago. Five years later, half your family is still missing. Though this time forever.

Warnings: death mentions, depression, cheating, angst with no happy ending, family issues.

1.2K Words

a/n: im changing the plot of endgame a bit cause I cant be fucked to write it all out

/ masterlist / / w.n masterlist /

You were 13 years old when the Avengers lost against Thanos, causing half the universe's population to cease to exist. You still remember the horrible feeling you felt in your gut when you saw the Wakandian guard who was watching over you turn to dust.

At the time, you thought you caused the guard to turn to dust with your recently discovered powers. So you hid in a vent for half an hour until your mother, Natasha, found you.

Only 3 days later, you were told of what happened to the rest of the universe.

You cried for weeks straight about the death of Wanda, and even Natasha shed a couple of tears at the loss of her ex-wife.

Wanda and Natasha had divorced 2 years prior to the blip when Natasha found her cheating on her with Vision.

After the blip, you struggled to return to your normal life as your powers were spiraling out of control, and Natasha was forcing herself to work so she could forget the horrible things that happened.

By the time you were 14 years old, you were diagnosed with depression and were failing half your classes. You would skip school constantly to hang out with your friends and show off your powers.

The first time Natasha found out about this, she was upset and hit you with the "How would Wanda feel about this?" which broke you at the thought of your dead mother's reaction. Though slowly you started to care less and less about Wanda's reaction.

She was dead. She didn't matter anymore.

It was just you and Natasha now.

Your relationship with your mom wasn't bad. Sure, you had your ups and downs but you still loved each other dearly. Sometimes you wouldn't know what you would do if you lost her as well.

"You're telling me there may actually be a way to get everybody back?" You stared at Tony, tears filling your eyes at the hope of everybody's return.

Tony hummed, "There's a possibility of it, yes."

"But don't get your hopes too high, okay? We aren't 100% sure of it." Natasha said to you, a stern look on her face.

You nodded, "It's just crazy that after 5 years, everybody could come back."

"It's been 5 years of hell," Bruce muttered, flicking switches at the control panel in front of him.

Natasha put her hand on your shoulder, making you jump. "Sweetheart, you need to go to bed. It's getting late."

You shook your head with a small laugh, "Mom, I'm not 13 anymore. I'm 18, I make my own decisions."

Natasha raised a brow at you. You have been talking back to her a lot more often than usual.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised, making your mother smile. "Goodnight, everybody!"

It only took a couple of days for Tony and Bruce to figure out how to time travel and retrieve the infinity stones.

"Mom, why won't you let me come with you? Please, I never come on missions with you." You begged, yanking onto Natasha's suit.

"Stop acting like a whiny child, Y/n. I told you that you're staying here and Clint is coming with me."

"But, mom-"

"Y/n, drop it."

You groaned and dramatically threw your body onto Natasha. She pushed you away with a laugh.

"You're a big baby, you know that?"

"You suck." You huffed out, watching your mother walk onto the platform.

"Love you, baby." Natasha sent you a wink.

The Avengers exchanged short conversations before they stepped into the correct positions.

"See you in a minute."

A bright flash of light lit up the platform and everybody disappeared.

It was only a few minutes before everybody started reappearing on the platform, each holding an infinity stone.

"Holy shit, Tony! You actually did it." You cheered, running up to him.

"Did you seriously doubt me?" He asked with a chuckle.

You sheepishly smiled, "Maybe."

A thumping sound made you turn away from Tony. You saw Clint defeatedly sitting on his knees with an infinity stone grasped in his hand, his face stained with tears.

"Clint? W-where's my mom?" You couldn't see your mom anywhere.

"She's...I'm so sorry, Y/n." His voice cracked and he started sobbing.

"Where's my mom, Clint? What the fuck did you do?" Your eyes started to fill with tears.

"I tried to stop her, I promise I tried. Though she's always been better at fighting than me, and- and I couldn't stop her." Clint couldn't even bring himself to look at you, "She's dead. I'm sorry."

All you could do was start to sob. You didn't know what to say or do. You felt fucking horrible. The last thing you ever said to your mother was "You suck." You didn't even tell her how much you loved her, and that tore you apart.

You collapsed into Tony's arms and quietly sobbed into his chest.

The death of Natasha was heavy on everybody's shoulders. Everybody was mainly silent, only talking when needed. Nobody spoke to you or Clint; you both looked like you could break down at any moment.

After many long arguments, it was decided Bruce would snap everybody back into existence. When Bruce snapped, you were almost sure he was going to die. It filled your eyes with tears at the thought of losing another loved one today.

"Did it work?" Rocket asked softly.

A loud sound was heard outside the compound, which caused everybody to run outside. Portals started opening one after the other, revealing the once-dead heroes.

"Y/n? Baby, where are you?" Wanda's voice broke through the loud crowd.

Wanda's eyes widened when she saw you, "Y/n?"

You stared at her, not really feeling anything but sadness. "Hi."

"You're so big! What happened? Why are you suddenly so old?"

"You're going to have to sit down for this." You whispered with a sad smile.

You and Wanda sat cross-legged on your bed. Both of your eyes were filled with tears.

"It's been 5 years since Thanos and Natasha is dead?" Wanda asked for the second time, still not really believing it.

You hummed, picking at the skin of your fingertips.

"That's okay, sweetheart. You still have me."

You looked at her with a confused expression, "Excuse me? What about my mom's death is okay?"

"That's not-"

"No, fuck you, honestly. My mom raised me, you were gone all my teenagehood and now you're saying this shit?" You stood up from the bed and moved away from Wanda.

"Honey, please," Wanda begged, realising she massively messed up.

"Firstly, you ruin this family by cheating on mom with a fucking toaster and now you've gone and ruined whatever family this is." You stared daggers into Wanda's eyes.

"Don't you dare call Vision a toaster."

"Mom died to bring you back! She knew how much I missed and needed you so she killed herself in order to help me." Your voice broke, "I wish you stayed dead."

"You don't mean that." She scoffed.

"Get out of my room. I don't even want to look at your face right now."

"Y/n-"

"Get out!" Your eyes flashed to a blinding white colour.

Wanda quickly scurried out of your room with tears rolling down her cheeks.

You flopped down on your bed and started to cry your eyes out. In the span of a couple of hours, you lost every important thing to you. Your mother was killed and Wanda ruined whatever relationship you were willing to build with her with a couple of words.

You had nobody. You were entirely alone.

And it really, really hurt.

307 notes · View notes

xiaoao · 2 years

Text

・❥・ 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

ೃ⁀➷ 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

╰┈➤ ᴄʏɴᴏ x ᴋɪᴛꜱᴜɴᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ༊*·˚

╰┈➤ made in mobile, if the lines may seem short / too long its the width of your device <3

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Summary : you were a kistune who stumbled upon a group of people, one of them approached you and you took them to somewhere you really love and had fond memories of.

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warnings : none, no nsfw, pure sfw ♥

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characters mentioned : the General Mahamatra Cyno, Kitsune reader ♥

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Genre : pure fluff, nothing to worry about <3

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You pulled Cyno to a beach you've created with your will, your strong will made you created this beautiful scenery, the starry night, all the stars shine's oh so brightly on both of your eyes, this scenery is indeed majestic. "This is the place where I like to bring people. This place truly gave me fond memories, I like to recall them, it feels like I'm experiencing all of them again, and if I can I want to recreat them with new people, now, I want to recreat some of them with you." You tell Cyno, Cyno looks at you in awe, "If you'd like, of course. I promise if you want, I'll recreat only good memories." You said, "Of course, if you'll be happy." Cyno said, you smiled at him "Really?" You asked, Cyno nods, "I'm glad, however, could you perhaps answer some of my questions?" You said, "Be my guest." Cyno said, "What was your position when you were in teyvat?" You asked curiously, "I was a general. To be specific, a general that worked for the Academia, my name was General Mahamatra." Cyno informed you, "Oh-! Then should I be calling you general?" You said "Uh no.. just call me Cyno." He said, "Got it! Second question, are your ears real? You ask, "Yes, they are real." ( Assuming ) Cyno said "Alright! I don't think I have anymore questions." You said as you sit down on the sand, "Alright, now I'll be the one who'll ask." Cyno said as he sits down beside you "I'm more than ready to answer them." You said, "Since you said you had family, what happened to them? Of course, you can only answer if you're comfortable." Cyno said, "Ah, well, they became stars." You say "Stars?" Cyno said confusingly "That's how kitsunes turn if they turn deceased. If they've protected their home land they turn into a beautiful beautiful star.. a star that will forever shine so bright. I even once saw a shooting star, it was a beautiful purple shade, I made a wish as well, to hopefully make new friends and meet more people, now, here we are, meeting all of you." You say smiling to Cyno "..I see." Cyno said sorrowfully, "Do you feel bad about asking it?" You say, "A little, I didn't know you all turn into stars after you die.." Cyno said, "Don't be, I'm a little happy you asked, the people I meet never asks about me or anything related to my family, I don't want my family to be forgotten so.." you say, Cyno didn't say anything, he only looked at you "Sorry, did I change the mood?" You say "No no I'm just amazed, you're really.. ethereal, majestic, every words that are elegant fits you, Y/n, you have a beautiful personality. I'm not a story writer, but I know someone who writes.. if possible, I'll request them to write about you and your family." Cyno said "Really? You don't have to do that, seriously." You said, "It's fine, after all the help these past few months you really deserve recognition." Cyno said, you face to Cyno, "Thanks, Cyno." You said smiling at him comfortingly, Cyno's eyes slightly widen, his cheeks tinted of a beautiful rose color, "Ahh? Sunrise already? Yeesh time passes really fast. Hey, Cyno, I really had a good time! Thank's for asking me questions and thanks for answering mine, hope we can talk like this again." You said standing up and offering your hand to help him stand

Most definitely. I really loved your company, thanks again for helping us until now, and advanced thank you for helping us in the future.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin fluff #fanfiction #cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno x y/n #genshin impact x reader #cyno fluff #genshin cyno

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park-jimin-isnt-real · 1 year

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"edge of tonight" part twelve ~ the meeting

pairing: namjoon x reader (lots of platonic ot7 x reader) rating: T 16+ genre: mafia au, angst this part: Your meeting with Mr. Wang (at a cheap downtown cafe) doesn't go according to plan. tw: mafia au!, angst, swearing, violence, guns, injury, implied death, there's a the guy who didn't like musicals reference and if you get it i will love you forever, overuse of the term 'Coffee Girl' i'm sorry i'm also annoyed with myself, i am horrible at writing action scenes pls be patient with this chapter, i also know next to nothing when it comes to medical procedures, seriously please just suspend your disbelief for this chapter, some of yall might not like jin by the end of this chapter and i'm sorry, not beta-ed (i need a new beta if anyone's interested) word count: ~8.6k track #15: Pick a Fight ~ Anna Akana: "Call me aggressive, contentious and so excessive, go ahead, teach me a lesson, baby, let me have it." the edge of tonight masterlist an: NO ONE TALK ABOUT HOW LATE THIS WAS OKAY I'M SO SORRY. really the last few hundred words of this chapter turned into a couple thousand and it was so frustrating bc i just wanted it to be DONE. but now it finally is so please enjoy and let me know what you think. thank you for being so patient!! and as always, the lovely moodboard at the bottom was made by the fantastic @mirahuyooo

The drive was quiet. And awkward. You sat in the backseat with Jungkook, but your gaze was locked on the passing scenery as your head rested against the cool window. The kitchen had been so lively, everyone chiming in and bickering. Part of you wanted to join in, but something kept stopping you.

You felt like you didn't belong anymore.

The way everyone talked, even with the addition of the other three, it was like nothing had changed. Like you were never gone. Like they just moved on without you and rebuilt their lives in a way that you weren't needed. Genius Labs, Just Dance, the hospital Jin would be going to later was probably the own Yoongi had told you he owned.

They didn't need you.

So you stayed silent, and watched the snow-covered trees slowly turn into snow-covered buildings, and tried not to think.

"I can't believe Jin-hyung didn't make us crêpes," Hobi mumbled from the passenger seat.

You could hear Yoongi's smirk. "Don't worry, Seok-ah, we'll get us some shitty croissants at a cheap downtown café."

"He said he would, though, if..." Hobi trailed off. You could feel his eyes on you and put together the end of his sentence easily. If you stayed.

"No he didn't," Jungkook said. You were grateful he took the attention off of you so quickly. "He said me and Taehyungie could have raspberries, he said nothing about making breakfast for everyone."

"It was implied!"

"It really wasn't, hyung."

Your lips turned up ever so slightly. It was nice, in a way, just listening to them. You missed this kind of light-hearted banter. No one was actually angry. No fights were going to break out. No arguments would be created. It was peaceful. It was easy to focus on them.

You didn't want to think about what you were going to do after your meeting with Mr. Wang. You didn't want to think about Jackson, blowing your phone up with call after call. You didn't want to think about Namjoon and... well, you never wanted to think about Namjoon. You thought about Namjoon too much.

You were thinking too much.

"Hey, Honey Bunches of Oats." Hobi's voice broke through your train of thought. You kept your head pressed against the window but turned to him, biting back a chuckle at the name. "You look like you're contemplating the meaning of life there, you okay?"

You smiled at him, but could tell he wasn't convinced. "I'm fine, don't worry." You looked back out the window. "I wasn't thinking about much of anything, really."

"I call bullshit," Yoongi said. "There's no way your head is empty." It wasn't, but you didn't want to talk about any of it either. You were tired of answering questions and explaining yourself. Just because you had most of their answers didn't mean you had all of them, nor that you wanted to share them. The car fell back into awkward silence as they realized you weren't going to speak again.

You needed a plan. That's what you forced yourself to think about. You had known Song wouldn't let you go so easily, but you had hoped that offering to return the obscene amount of money Namjoon and his gang were apparently worth would sway things in your favor. You were going to a new location, too, so you wouldn't have a lot of time to scope out an escape route if things went bad.

That was probably why Namjoon had sent these three with you. If it came down to it, you could survive Hobi's driving, Yoongi was probably a better shot than you were, and Jungkook looked like he could hold his own. It also explained why Namjoon didn't come with you himself.

The biggest thing was making sure it looked like you were alone. As much as Yoongi had offered, no one could sit in the meeting with you. It also meant you couldn't be seen getting out of their car.

"How much farther?" You asked as you sat up.

"About a kilometer and a half," Yoongi answered, "why?"

You undid the seat belt. "Drop me off here."

"Why??"

"Because they don't know I'm with anyone and I'd like to keep it that way, so either pull over and let me out, or I'm jumping." Yoongi started pulling over as Jungkook protested.

"But we promised RM-hyung—"

"You did, I didn't." RM must have been Namjoon, and that promise must have been to keep you safe. "I'm a big girl, Bunny Boy, I can take care of myself. Besides, we're in a populated enough area that Hobi should be able to hack into some camera system and you can stalk me that way."

Hobi rolled his eyes, but you could sense the concern rolling off of him in waves. Yoongi gave you the last few directions and told you they would be waiting down the block for you. "Don’t freeze your ass off."

"Busan gets colder." You opened the door and climbed out before they could protest more. You crossed the street with a quick glance to make sure you wouldn't get prematurely hit with a car, then made your way along the sidewalk.

Plan, you needed a plan, and you needed one fast. The biggest issue you had was you didn't know what game they would be playing: Seoul's, or Busan's. A meeting like this in Seoul would consist of an exchange of information and then you potentially getting sniped 24-48 hours later. A meeting like this in Busan would consist of an exchange of information and then you getting stabbed or shot before you even left your seat.

You looked all around you as you weaved through the light crowd on the sidewalk. Wang sent you to a public place, so chances of you getting directly attacked mid-meeting or right after were slim; but the tall buildings around you left far too many opportunities for a sniper open. There were a number of open alleyways that could be used for a quick escape, but the chances of getting cornered in them was also pretty high.

Would they attack you? Or would this be nothing more than breakfast and a send-off? Would they wait until you were back in Busan before joining the many who want your head?

Did you even want to go back to Busan?

...

Okay, nope, you weren't going to think about that right now. Right now was about survival—survive, then you could think about things like that.

If Busan made you good at one thing, it was surviving. If it made you good at two things, it was surviving and improvising. This was a situation where you couldn't plan ahead very far, you'd have to think on your feet in the moment. You couldn't think about it like a game of chess; that would get too complicated and you would get bogged down with details.

It was a game of rock-paper-scissors: either you'd get shot immediately, sometime later, or you wouldn't get shot at all.

Those outcomes were basic enough you could create rough drafts of a plan around. Not getting shot at was ideal, and required the least amount of work behind it, but not getting shot at was also the least likely of these outcomes. Getting shot sometime later had the most variables and was most likely, but later meant you could worry about it later.

Getting shot at immediately was the big problem, and unfortunately one you couldn't really address until you saw the environment you would be dealing with. Would there be lots of space to move around in or would things be cramped in tight? How many people, civilians, casualties could there be? And could you avoid them altogether?

You had stolen the gun beneath Yoongi's seat as you got out of the car, and the weapon was safely tucked into your waistband and hidden by your jacket. You weren't walking into this unarmed. But Seoul liked handling things quietly; the less chaos in the streets, the more the families and gangs could achieve. So for your benefit, and Bangtan's really, you couldn't shoot first.

You stopped in front of a decent-sized coffee shop on the corner. Windows lined the walls facing the street, and you could see a fair amount of customers inside, both standing in line and already seated with their drinks and laptops. Beanie's was printed on a sign hung above the door, with a doodled coffee cup next to it.

It was cute.

Why the fuck did Wang want to meet you here?

What trap were you about to walk into?

You looked around one last time, and from the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of a familiar black car pulled up against the curb just a block or two away. You didn't glance at it for long—you couldn't, in case you were already being watched—but knowing someone familiar was here gave you a small sense of calm.

They wouldn't let anything happen to you.

Well. They wouldn't let anything within their power happen to you. You had a lot more autonomy than you used to and you were more than capable of getting yourself into and out of trouble; after all, you weren't sixteen anymore.

You took a deep breath and pulled the door open, making a small bell jingle overhead. You were grateful for the rush of warm air against your skin. You looked around the shop but saw no sign of Wang or any of Song's men, at least not inside. You did arrive a bit early, so you could use this time to your advantage. You got in line to order as you made note of everything around you.

There were no booths, just tables and chairs, and those could be used for either offence or defense. Chances were the windows weren't bulletproof, if anything they might be tempered, so there were several easy albeit obvious possible exits. Hot coffee itself could be a weapon and you wondered if asking the barista to make it as hot as possible would tip anyone off.

"You know what?" The man ordering in front of you caught your attention as his voice rose. "I'm never coming back here again. That sign's bullshit!" You took a step to the side to avoid being run over by him as he stormed out.

"Oh my god, so mean," came the came a high-pitched mocking whine from the barista behind the counter, currently flipping the retreating figure off.

"Happy holidays, sir!" A different barista yelled over her coworker, her voice overly chipper the way only someone who worked in customer service and was constantly yelled at could be. "Ohhhhh-kay, Emma, why don't you go take a break in the back, alright?" You watched the man's retreating form for another moment, then stepped up to the counter.

You froze.

"I am so sorry about all that," the barista continued. She hadn't looked at you yet, still pushing buttons on the register, probably clearing out the last order. "Anyways, uh, hi, welcome to Beanie's, what can I—" She finally looked up at you and paused, then broke into a real smile. "Oh my god! Y/N, right? From the ball last night?"

Jin's date, who he had just introduced you to last night, was standing on the other side of the counter.

And suddenly you knew exactly why Wang wanted to meet you here, and you knew exactly what kind of trap you just walked into.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, not bothering to keep your tone light. "Does Jin know you're here?"

She giggled. Giggled. Like she didn't know her life was about to be in danger. "Of course he does! I work here, obviously, and he's gonna stop by for lunch before he heads to his shift at the hospital."

She didn't know her life was about to be in danger.

"Has Jin told you anything?" You watched as her smile fell and her cheery disposition turned confused.

"About what?" She asked in return. You looked her in the eyes for a moment longer. This wasn't clever avoidance, the I know what you're talking about but I can't make it obvious that I know what you're talking about type of look.

She. Didn't. Know. Anything.

Two. They were about to be two members down.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him," you muttered, getting yourself as close to the counter as you could without climbing over it, and leaned over so only she could hear you. "You need to get out of here. Now."

"Why?" She whispered back. At least she had the common sense to look scared.

"You're not safe, not anymore." You glanced over her shoulder. "Is there a way you can get out through the back?" She nodded hesitantly. "Go hide out, call Jin to come get you now, and if you start hearing gunshots you run."

Her eyes went wide at the mention of bullets possibly flying. "I—what?" The bell above the door rang.

You pulled away, back to what a normal customer-employee distance would be. "Yeah, can I get a large black coffee?" Your voice went back to normal, but your eyes kept boring into hers. It took a second too long for her to perk back up.

"Of course!" She smiled and tapped away at the register. "Is that for here or to-go?" She looked at you again, and while you hated the fear you could see badly hidden in her eyes, you knew that fear would help keep her alive.

"For here," you answered, and she visibly relaxed a bit. "I'm meeting someone in a few minutes." She nodded and tapped again.

"Anyone special?" She asked you, her tone almost teasing. At least she was a good actress.

"Afraid not, just business."

"Will that be all today?"

"For right now, yeah." You glanced at the total on the screen facing you and pulled a small stack of cash from your pocket, handing it to her.

"We'll have that ready for you in just a minute," she said as she sorted the money into the register.

"Anna."

She paused, once again confused. "I'm sorry?"

"The name for the order?" You offered. "Anna." Her brows pinched together for a moment, and she looked like she was about to ask about your fake name, but she carried on instead.

"Right, of course, I'm so sorry. We'll have that right out for you." She scurried away to begin making you the drink you weren't planning on drinking and another barista filled her spot to help the person in line behind you.

You took a seat at a table next to one of the windows and looked out at the half-busy street. On the outside, you were fine. Just chilling, waiting patiently for your coffee. On the inside you were screaming. How did you not connect these dots earlier?

Song's men were watching you all night. They saw everyone you interacted with. They made note of who they were and how they could be used; and when they couldn't find much, if anything, on Jin, they turned to his date.

This sweet, innocent girl, who worked at a cheap downtown café and was probably falling in love with one of your old best friends, and had no idea what she was getting herself into.

You were going to kill Jin. He fucking knew better.

And when you ran out, it was her they decided to try and use against you solely because she was a civilian, she was innocent. They were trying to appeal to your humanity while putting you in a Catch 22: do what we want and she won't get hurt. Fight back and she's dead.

You knew Song wouldn't let you leave easily, even if you returned all 8 billion won. They knew you knew something, and they were going to do anything to try and get it out of you, including dragging other people into your mess.

Your simple game of Survival Rock-Paper-Scissors had turned back into the game of chess you were trying to avoid.

You could keep yourself alive. There weren't many scenarios where you would actually wind up dead. Injured, sure, there were plenty of those, but not dead. But you were much less sure of your abilities to keep yourself and someone else alive, especially when that someone else didn't have nearly the same training or skillset as you did.

"Order for Anna!" You twisted in your seat, about to get up and go fetch your coffee, when a set of legs came into view in front of you, stopping your movement. You didn't look up. You didn't need to.

"Please, allow us to get that for you," he said as he sat down in the chair across from you. One of the guards, you assumed, who had come with him went to the front to collect your drink. You turned to face him.

You were out of time.

Mr. Wang was a stout man with more muscle than fat, and probably about the same age as your father, maybe a few years older. He was Song's Right Hand, and you often wondered why Song would send someone so high up the hierarchy just do deal with someone like you.

He smiled. "Good morning, Ms. Lee." It was always unnerving, the way he said your name. Like he knew it was fake.

"Good morning, Mr. Wang." You kept your voice polite, trying to mask your worry with boredom. "I believe you promised me breakfast?"

"And yet you've already paid for your coffee," he said as the steaming drink was placed on the table in front of you. The guard took a seat directly behind you. They were trying to keep the outside appearance of the meeting casual.

"You should've gotten here before me, then."

Wang chuckled. "For someone who didn't want to meet this morning, you certainly are excited."

"The sooner I got here, the sooner I could leave." You were already tired of the forced pleasantries. "Why are we here, Mr. Wang?"

"You know perfectly well why, Ms. Lee. You're a clever girl." A chill ran down your spine at the phrase. It wasn't the first time you'd heard it, but it always carried such a sinister tone. Your father's voice always echoed in your mind. "I'm positive you've already figured it out."

"I have, and it's funny how you think I care." You rested your head against your palm, leaning on your elbow.

That got Wang to pause, but only for a small moment. "I recall you telling me that you didn't deal with innocents."

"If she attended the ball last night, then she isn't all that innocent, is she?" She absolutely was, but the more you could get Wang to think otherwise, the more he would focus on you instead of her. Wang only hummed, and stared you down a moment longer before folding his hands on the table.

"The information, Ms. Lee." His voice was harder now, lower. The small talk was over. The waters had been tested. The pieces were in place.

The game had begun.

"And what information would you like? As I said on the phone, I have plenty, but not much of it requires your attention."

"And as I stated—"

"You'll be the judge of that, yes, yes, I remember." You rolled your eyes and looked back out the window. "Ask away."

Wang was silent. You people-watched as you waited for him to take his turn. There was a small advantage you had over him: he was probably playing seven mind games right now, and whatever happened here would effect most of them. You were only playing this game right now, so all your attention could stay focused here.

It was a very tense two minutes before he spoke again. "The information, Ms. Lee," he repeated.

You turned back to him and smiled ruefully. "And what information would you like?" You asked again. Normally, you could play this game all day, but it wasn't just your life at stake right now. "Specific questions get specific answers, Mr. Wang."

The man let out a sigh, as if he were indulging a young child. "The information on Bangtan, Ms. Lee. We had originally hired you to kill them, still none of them are dead. But surely in the past four months you've managed to do something of use."

Actually, no. You really haven't done anything. Had you not run into Jungkook your first night in Seoul, and had he not mentioned Namjoon's name, perhaps the past four months could have turned out differently.

But instead, in the past four months you've done next to nothing but have a panic attack nearly every day, get maybe two hours of sleep each night, and occasionally run into someone from your past. The only times you actually tried to do what you were hired for was the night you first met Park at the bar, and last night at the ball.

You have done nothing but bullshit your way through this job.

"I've learned a number of things," you told him, "does that count?" Wang only lifted an eyebrow at you, but it had no effect. He was far from intimidating, and you were far from impressed. You continued, "I've learned what the Southern Underground means when they say that the North is boring; I've learned that public transportation is much better here than it is in Busan; and I learned that I am pretty enough for Park Jimin to sleep with."

You have not slept with Park Jimin. You did not want to sleep with Park Jimin. A very large part of you still wanted to cut Park Jimin's dick off.

But if it was going to upset them to think that you did sleep with Park Jimin and that that was the reason he was still alive, then yeah, sure, you slept with Park Jimin. Best sex you've ever had, ate you out like a champ, his hips did not lie.

Wang stayed quiet, merely observing you. You didn't like the way he was looking at you. You expected him to be angry, sure, but there was an air of disappointment about him too. Like he had expected better from you and you had let him down. "So what you're telling me, Ms. Lee, is that we paid you an obscene amount of money—in full, in advance, in cash, just as you required—to kill several people, and you have spent the past four months whoring yourself out to them?"

The hand in your lap curled into a fist and you dug your nails into your palm. It was still sore from last night, but that helped. The pain was the only thing that kept you from reacting to his words.

You hated that word. You hated that word. There was a phantom stinging on your left side, right over your ribs, and your father's voice rang through your head again.

You wanted to be a whore that badly, Darling...

"Well maybe you shouldn't have lied to me." And this was where the bullshitting continued. Wang's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the accusation. He opened his mouth but you kept going. "I am a clever girl, Mr. Wang, and I did my research once I got the job. I'm not sure who is kidnapping women and children, but it's not Bangtan. They're far from saints, but they still have some decent morals."

Wang closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath in, slowly letting it out. You weren't sure if he was buying it or not, but you really hoped he was. "Enough." That single word set you on high alert. It could mean anything. This wasn't how the game usually went.

"Enough," he repeated, then looked over his shoulder at the man behind him. "Call my son, tell him the game is over." Wang stood, and you felt the one behind you stand with him. "Grab her, let's go." A hand grabbed your shoulder.

"Don't fucking touch me." You shoved the hand off and glared up at Wang. "I am not going anywhere."

"Let's not make a scene, Ms. L/N." You froze, eyes wide. "Please make this easy and come quietly."

L/N. They knew who you really were. How did they know? You had been going by Lee Anna for the last six years. This job was far more dangerous than you had ever thought.

You shoved the panic down, Jackson had taught you years ago that you can't panic in the middle of a job, not if you want to stay alive, box it up, shove it down, get the job done, you can break down once you get home.

I'll be there to help you when you do.

"If you didn't want me to make a scene, Mr. Wang, you would've chosen somewhere more private for us to meet." Like hell, would you ever go anywhere quietly. Besides, making a scene gave you several advantages.

Like chaos you could better escape in.

You grabbed your coffee and threw it at Wang, smirking in satisfaction at the cry he let out as the scalding liquid soaked into his suit. The man behind you grabbed your shoulder again, this time more firmly. Instead of pushing him off, you grabbed him by the wrist and stood, twisting his arm around as you moved. He cried out from the pain, his limb in an unnatural position. With your free hand, you pulled the gun from your waistband and shot.

Blood splattered as he dropped and screams erupted from the other customers and employees. You turned and shot the other guard, the one that had sat behind Wang, and though it wasn't a fatal shot the man was still down for the count. You ran to the front, people moving out of the way of the crazy girl with the gun (several of them on their phone probably calling the police), and vaulted yourself over the counter.

You crashed into the back kitchen, calling out for Jin's date. She had followed most of your instructions and gone into the back after making your drink. You saw her pacing in fear by the back door, her phone clutched in her hand. "I told you to run if you heard gunshots!"

"I didn't want to run alone!" Okay, you couldn't really blame her for that. "This leads into the alley out back." You grabbed her hand and shoved her out the door.

"Stay in front of me, run as fast as you can, and whatever you do, do not let go of my hand." Her grip on you turned harsh as she did what you said and the two of you took off running through the alley. "I've got a car waiting two blocks over, but we need to get to it through the alleyways."

"Why?" She was already panting, which didn't bode well for either of you.

"Because we'll be easier targets if we run out on the street. That's probably where the rest of them were waiting." Wang was probably expecting you to run, but he had probably planned for you to run out the front instead of the back. They were bound to follow you, but they'd be behind you, which gave you a better chance of protecting her.

"Who even are they??"

"People who want my head and were willing to use you to get it." She turned to look at you over her shoulder, and you were satisfied at the fear in her eyes. Fear would keep her alert, and hopefully, alive. "Turn left."

You could hear footsteps coming. If you were alone you could just take them on, get it done and over with and leave their bodies as a message: This is what happens when you mess with me. But you couldn't risk anything happening to her, not because of you.

The alley you were running down lead to the street with no other turnoffs you could use. It was still too early in your escape for the two of you to be back out in the open. You risked a glance over your shoulder, trying to see if it was clear enough to turn back, but you didn't get a good look at the man in the distance before Coffee Girl gasped and stuttered to a halt. Your gaze shot forward once more and fell on a dark silhouette holding a gun.

You raised yours to shoot, acting on more on instinct than rationality, when you heard a familiar voice yell out "Joystick!" You recognized the codeword instantly: drop. You wrapped your arm around Coffee Girl's shoulders and forced her and yourself to the ground. Her string of mumbled "oh my god oh my god oh my god" was cut off by a scream as another gunshot sounded followed by a thud.

"Photocopy," Yoongi called to you, signaling that it was clear to get back up. He jogged over to help both of you up, though it quickly turned into you and him trying to help Coffee Girl. "I'd hoped you'd know those."

"Spent a week in Daegu," you told him, looking behind you at the dead body now laying in the alley.

"And you survived?"

"Barely."

"Yoongi?" Coffee Girl asked quietly, her voice shaking. You turned your attention back to her; she wasn't doing okay, not that you expected her to be. "You're involved in this too?" Yoongi gave her his bracket smile in response, but it did little to comfort her.

"Where's the car?"

"Coming back around," Yoongi answered. "Once the gunshots started we needed to appear as though we were fleeing civilians. I jumped out to come find you and J-Hope took the wheel."

"J-Hope?"

"Hoseok."

Dread rushed through you. "Great, Hobi's driving."

"He really has gotten better."

"I call bullshit."

"What is going on?!" Coffee Girl yelled, catching your attention once more. You turned to face her fully and placed your hands on her shoulders, hoping to help ground her a bit.

"Hey," you said, your voice firm but gentle, "I know things are confusing and beyond scary right now, but you gotta keep it together for just a bit longer. We're going to keep you safe, and you're going to be okay, and soon you'll be back with Jin and you can ask him all sorts of questions. Okay?" She took a deep, albeit shaky breath, and nodded. You dropped one hand, then looked at Yoongi. "How much longer until Hobi pulls up?"

"A couple more minutes?" He sounded like he was guessing. "Traffic gets backed up when people start panicking—thanks for that, by the way."

"Remind me to apologize later." You let Coffee Girl go, both of you leaning against the brick. "How many people do we think are looking for us right now?"

Yoongi shrugged. "Can't be too many left, with how many we've alre—"

There was another gunshot, too close for comfort, and the brick next to your head burst in a small spray of rock. Coffee Girl screamed in your ear again, covering her head and dropping to the ground. You dropped with her, trying your best to cover her body with yours while Yoongi shot back. You heard the click of his weapon and a soft fuck.

"Trade me," you told him.

"Not a chance in hell," he protested, dropping into a crouch to trade out the magazine.

"Let me take care of this, Yoongi."

"No."

"Yoongi—"

"We aren't losing you again." That made you pause. In a way, you could understand what he was feeling. There was a big difference between then and now, though.

"I'm not sixteen anymore, Yoongi," you told him, "and beyond that, I've spent plenty of time surviving down south. I can take care of myself. She can't." He turned away, and you recognized the I don't like what you're telling me but I can't argue against it either look. "Get her out of here, and let me go."

He let out a deep breath. "Fine, but I expect you to be right behind us."

"Fine." You stood up to aim for the shooter, and to draw his attention, while Yoongi helped Coffee Girl up enough to get her on her feet so she could run. After a few seconds of not getting shot at, of not seeing anyone, and when you were sure the other two had a chance to get further away, you called out, "What, too scared to shoot?"

"Don't provoke them!" Yoongi hissed at you. You ignored him, taking careful steps backwards.

"Come on, don't be shy! I don't bite hard! And my aim isn't that great!"

"Y/N!"

You rolled your eyes, but turned to follow them, only speeding up when you heard thudding footsteps behind you. So they wouldn't shoot at you, but they'd chase you? That was definitely worth looking into later.

You were right behind Yoongi when you left the alley. The once kind-of-busy street had been essentially abandoned, the occasional car driving past replaced with several police cars; though surprisingly the roadway hadn't been blocked off from any potential oncoming traffic. Then a familiar black car shot past, and the three of you ran for it.

"Don't let her get away!"

Hobi skidded to a stop against the curb just ahead of you, Jungkook jumping out of the back before the car had fully stopped moving. He pulled the passenger door open then raced towards you. Yoongi pushed Coffee Girl forward, Jungkook catching her wrist and pulling her ahead, then pushed her into the front seat. Yoongi went to the side facing the street, flinging the car door open and throwing himself into the back. Jungkook opened the opposite back door, and held it open for you.

You heard the gunshot before you felt it. A hot, tearing pain ripped through your left side right as you dove for the opening. Jungkook jumped in after you, slamming the door as Hobi took off. Coffee Girl was in the passenger seat, probably in shock, and you were sandwiched between Yoongi and Jungkook.

You clutched at the wound, trying to slow down the bleeding, clenching your jaw against the pain. It was a lucky shot. You would need to deep clean your jacket again.

Hobi was focused on driving (and no, he had absolutely not gotten better in the last ten years, you definitely felt just as sick as you used to); Jungkook was leaning around the front seat, trying to talk to Jin's date; and Yoongi was on the phone. You wanted to pay attention to that, to stay focused on something, but the new wound was disturbing an old emotional scar.

You knew what was going to happen. Eventually one of them would notice you were injured, Yoongi would inform Jin, Jin would probably strap you to a medical table so he could take care of the new hole in your body, and then he would see the scar. And then he would tell Namjoon.

And Namjoon couldn't know about it.

Despite knowing better, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes. You needed to stay awake. You needed to stay alive. You needed to not be so damn tired.

You needed Jackson.

Your free hand patted around your jacket pockets, looking for your phone. You needed to call him back, and he definitely needed to know about the shot. You also knew it had been too long since you'd last talked with him, and with the new developments this job had, he needed to be in the loop.

He was also 100% going to get after you for getting injured and for not answering his calls and the sooner you contacted him the sooner he could get every bad word about you out and move on to the important things.

"Where's my phone?" you mumbled, feeling nothing but soft jacket as you continued searching. "What the fuck?" You definitely had it in the café, you had to check and make sure it was on silent so Jackson's calls wouldn't interrupt your meeting.

"You okay?" Yoongi asked, turning his phone receiver away. Jin was no doubt bombarding him with questions about how Coffee Girl was doing.

You tried taking a deep breath, then had to hide a pained grimace you were sure he picked up on. "I can't find my phone."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed. "And beyond that?" he prodded. You didn't look at him, and tried to make the hold you had on your side casual. "Y/N?"

"I smell blood?" Jungkook said, trying to wrap his large body around the front seat. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"N-no, no, I'm okay." Coffee Girl reminded you of when you were sixteen. You could vaguely remember having been pushed into a dark car, someone you cared about injured and resting in the back, the smell of blood.

"Jin, we have a second problem," Yoongi said into his phone, "and this one's worse. Seok-ah, step on it." Hobi somehow started driving faster, and you squeezed your eyes shut hoping to avoid getting motion sickness on top of what you were already dealing with.

"Y/N-ssi? Did you get hurt?" Jungkook turned his questions to you, and you could hear the same care and concern in his voice that he had in your apartment last night. Honestly, why did he care so much? The kid barely even knew you.

"I'm fine."

"That wasn't the question."

"Yoongi—"

"No, not this time, not when you're bleeding out in the back of my car. Jin, we'll see you at home. Try to keep Namjoon calm."

"Good luck with that," Hobi said, probably to himself, as he whipped the car around a corner. You grunted as the movement made you slide into Jungkook. You held onto your side tighter, trying to hold the wound and yourself together.

Namjoon couldn't know.

"Y/N-ssi, please, that's a lot of blood, let us help you."

"I'll be fine, just get me to the estate—"

"I'm working on it!" Hobi interrupted.

"—and then I'll get stitched up!"

"Would this help?" The quiet voice shocked you, and you turned to see Coffee Girl offering you a rumpled up piece of fabric. "With the bleeding? Your jacket looks a little..." She trailed off, looking for the right word but coming up empty. You didn't blame her.

You blinked at her for a moment. Slowly, your free hand reached out to take the fabric from her. It was her apron, you could see the coffee stains on it now. "Thanks," you told her quietly as you tucked the apron under your blood-stained jacket, wincing a little at the movement.

"Hyung, text Jin, tell him our ETA is five minutes," Hobi spoke up, taking what you recognized as the forever-long driveway back to the estate. If you thought about it, having such a long entrance; Hobi had probably hidden cameras and motion sensors in the trees that lined the road and kept a close eye on them. Any extra time to see that someone is coming could be the difference between life and death.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes again, trying to mentally prepare yourself to see Namjoon and to fight with Jin. This wasn't the first time you'd been shot, and you could take care of yourself just fine. You knew Jin would have a fully-stocked medical room somewhere in that building, you'd just need someone to point you in that direction and you'd manage on your own.

But Jin wouldn't go down without a serious fight - if at all - and Namjoon was probably losing his mind already. Getting him to stay away from you wouldn't be possible without help from some of the guys.

Really, why wouldn't they all just leave you alone? Why wouldn't everyone leave you alone? No more jobs, no more Jackson, no more past coming back to haunt you.

"Don't fucking fall asleep."

"Min Yoongi I swear to god—"

"You aren't in any state to make threats."

"I don't remember you two fighting like an old married couple," Hobi sighed. "You ready for the panic?"

"Kook, hold Namjoon back," Yoongi said.

"But—"

"Do it. We gotta get Y/N downstairs with as little interference as possible."

"She'll probably need to be carried in," Hobi added.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" You yelled. "And I can walk!"

"You probably shouldn't though," Jungkook said softly.

"And they are all waiting for us on the front steps," Hobi announced as he pulled up to the estate. You opened your eyes to look out the window. Namjoon had paced himself a little path in the snow, while Jin was endlessly tapping his foot. Jimin and Taehyung had apparently returned and were leaning against the front door. "Good luck to all of you."

"We aren't going to war, hyung."

"OH, yes you are." Hobi put the car in park and everyone but you and Coffee Girl started moving. Yoongi opened the door and climbed out of the car, Hobi and Jungkook following suit. Jin ran up to the passenger door, followed closely by Jimin, who looked a lot more concerned for Coffee Girl than he had seemed with you earlier that morning.

Namjoon tried lunging towards the car and tripped going down the stairs. Tae reached out to catch him before he could fully fall, then pulled him back and said something to him that Namjoon didn't like.

Jin opened the passenger door and immediately began bombarding Coffee Girl with questions. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt at all? I'm sorry, I am so, so sorry."

"Hyung, give her some space, let her get out," Jimin gently chided him, holding his suit jacket in his hand.

Jungkook caught your attention by holding his hand out to you. You looked back and forth between it and his face. You saw nothing but quiet determination and gentle earnestness. "You can trust us," he whispered, repeating his words from last night. You gritted your teeth, and held your side harder.

Namjoon couldn't know.

You glanced back at Jin and Jimin. Coffee Girl was now out of the car, with Jimin's jacket wrapped around her shoulders to help protect her from the cold. You could hear Jin telling her, "I'll be with you as soon as I can, I need to help Y/N, but this is Jimin, he's the one who drinks a lot but he'll take care of you."

"Hey! Don't slander my good name in front of her!"

"Y/N," Jungkook said again, "please." He held his hand closer to you, like that would make you more likely to take it. Jimin wrapped his arm around Coffee Girl and began leading her inside. Yoongi and Hobi had joined Tae in holding Namjoon back. Jin turned his sights on you and any sympathy in his voice vanished.

"Y/N, get out of the car, now."

You really didn't like being bossed around. "Jungkook asked me nicely."

"And you didn't move. My turn. Out. Now."

"You're not—"

"Not your friend right now," Jin interrupted you. "Right now, I'm a doctor trying to save your life and giving you the option of autonomy before I risk making the wound worse and pulling you out."

"You can't do that."

"Try me."

"Hyung, please, let me hand—"

"Three."

"Are you fucking serious Jin??"

"Two."

"Don't fucking touch me!"

"Hyung!"

"One!"

"Can't win the game if you're dead!" Taehyung's voice rang over all of your arguing, the line directed at you. "Is this really how you wanna go? Bleeding out in a car because of some cheap shot and refusing help from your friends?"

…

Well, when he put it that way, no, not really. You'd contemplated your death before, but a cheap shot in the side was never on the list. If and when you did go, you wanted it to be on your own terms.

Not something like this.

You met Jin's eyes, matching his ferocity. "Only you." Namjoon couldn't know.

"If that's what it takes," he yielded easily. "One of us will need to help you with the stairs though, you've lost a lot of blood."

"I haven't lost enough to lose coherence," you mumbled, finally taking Jungkook's outstretched hand. He helped pull you from the vehicle and caught you when you wobbled after standing. Jin turned and quickly made his way up the front steps and into the estate.

Namjoon still stood on the porch, being lightly held back by Hobi and Yoongi, all three of them watching you with concern (and in Yoongi's case, a bit of frustration). You looked away quickly, not wanting to chance making eye contact.

Jungkook helped you take a few steps, your breathing abruptly becoming shallow and labored from the movement. You clutched at your side and felt the stares boring more holes through your jacket. Jungkook paused after getting you up the first step. "Maybe I could carry you again?" he asked timidly. "It'll be faster, and maybe a bit less painless for you."

Maybe it was because you had just been shot, and you had already fought with two of your old friends, and you saved a poor innocent girl from possibly getting killed today. Maybe it was because you wanted to get out of Namjoon's sight as soon as possible, and you wanted Jin get things over with, and you wanted Taehyung's words to get our of your head. Maybe it was because you were tired, and you were in pain, and part of you had already given up. Maybe it was a complex combination of all of these things that made you say yes to Jungkook's offer to carry you for the second time in twenty-four hours.

He picked you up even more gently than he had last night, mindful of your wound, but that didn't stop the pain and discomfort from being put in a new position so quickly, nor from being bounced in his arms, even as he tried to keep you as steady as he could.

You won't admit that you curled into his large chest as you passed the three men still standing and staring at you, hoping to keep them from getting too close a look at you, to keep them from seeing you wince at Namjoon's soft, "Y/N…"

Jungkook carried you into the house and to the door that you assumed led down to the basement, and where Jin kept all his medical things. Going down the staircase was bumpy and Jungkook kept muttering "sorry, sorry, sorry," all the way down. You were relieved once you reached the bottom.

The basement was large, and gave off a more homey and lived-in vibe than the rest of the estate did. There was a section full of gym equipment, a couple large couches in front of a wall with a projector hanging on the ceiling above, and a few table games like pool and table tennis. Another wall had a full bar and an open pantry with stuffed with snacks, and some bookshelves lined with both books and what looked like DVD cases.

It was close to what you expected to see from a bunch of single men in their mid-to-late twenties.

Jin was in one of the rooms that branched off, and Jungkook took you there. It was basically a room taken straight out of a hospital with how many medical supplies Jin had stacked and organized in it, complete with an uncomfortable looking hospital bed that Jungkook gently placed you down on. You leaned back with a sigh of relief to finally be in a more horizontal position.

Jin had a tray of tools and supplies next to him, and he was getting the IV set up. "Upstairs, Kookie," he said, "go help keep Namjoon calm."

"But—"

"Now, Kook. I need to focus."

"Won't you need help though?" Jungkook asked in a last-ditch attempt to stay with you.

That got Jin to pause. He looked at you. "If I do need a second pair of hands, who do you want down here?"

You sighed again, but had an easy answer. "Yoongi." He was Jin's stand-in nurse back when Jin's medical room was the smaller bedroom in his apartment, and if Yoongi did see anything you knew he wouldn't snitch.

Jin nodded, then continued working. "Tell Yoongi to be on stand-by, now up you go." Jungkook rolled his eyes, but left, grumbling something about how even though he's the youngest he can still do things and help people.

"Keep this on." He clipped a sensor onto your middle finger and the screen next to the bed lit up with your vitals. "Okay, first we need to stop that bleeding, then I can insert the IV to start replacing it. I'm guessing you won't let me cut your jacket off you?" Your glare was the only response he received. He exhaled. "Then this is going to hurt."

"I'm already in pain, Jin." You dropped the apron and tugged your jacket off your arms, then rolled your shirt up to expose the injury. It was small, and wasn't complete through your torso. It looked more like a large bug had taken a bite out of you than it did a gunshot wound. The bleeding had started slowing, although it was still constant.

You hoped Jin was too occupied with it to notice your scar directly above it.

"Alright, so what I'll do is clean around it first, then—"

"This isn't my first time being shot, Jin," you told him, beyond exasperated at this point. "I know the process, let's just get it done please."

He didn't say anything back, probably just as done with you. You kept your eyes firmly on the ceiling, despite the brightness of the lights hurting them. Jin worked quickly, just as knowledgeable in the procedure, considering all the bullet wounds he's definitely worked on over the years.

"I don't know my blood type." you said as he tied the tourniquet around your arm.

Jin shrugged. "We're all different types, the seven of us, so I just have a large storage of O-neg. Make a fist." You complied, wincing slightly at the pinch of the needle going in. "Alright, let's get some pain killers in you, shall we?"

You didn't like the feeling of new liquids being forced into your veins, but you did welcome the quick relief they offered. That relief was short-lived, however, as your body started to relax a bit too much and your eyes started drooping.

"Did you sedate me?"

Jin wouldn't look at you. "Your body is going to need plenty of rest in order to fully recover."

"That is a bullshit answer and you know it."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I truly am, but you've fought just about everyone today, and I can't have you fighting me while I'm trying to take care of you." Your eyes stung from the betrayal he didn't understand.

Instead of responding, you closed your eyes fully and accepted it. It was another things being in Busan had taught you well: accepting things that were happening to you. You had fought as hard as you could, but in the end you weren't strong enough (you never were), so it was time to just accept the will of someone else. Jackson told you time and again that your life would be easier that way.

Your last thought before slipping into unconsciousness was remembering that you still hadn't called him back.

ta-daaaa~~~ thank you again for reading!! please comment and reblog and let me know what you think. hopefully the next chapter will be up soon!! and a super special thank you to my taglist peeps, lemme know if you want to be added to list and subsequently become a Cool Kid™️ @illnevertrustmyselfagain @misschino @youlook-likehell @dany-but-not-targaryen @nyx-goddess-of-choas @fangirl125reader @wordsaremyswords @clowdyblue @tutnotmytea @scentedsope @hope122598 @veronawrites @ayoongiverse @myooniverse @jiminrings @mirahuyooo @cafemyg @lolalee24@elyte @hyungieyoongi @singukieee @hello-neema @thebadassmotherofmyshotas @kawaii-bear @notsooperfect @mintyoonjisworld @glams00 @thisisnotangel @fangirl-and-stuff @dprssdgal @irony-of-living @hobateas @remmykinsff @gukieater @cherrie11113 @lovra974 @girlwithluv0613 @whatsakilo @yoursoontobestepmom @juju-227592 @zahraaelamira @xyahrinx @belladaises @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lookhere-2seok @imnotokayfuckup @rjsmochii @theealanis @mintsugarmy @rosesarehim @smol-grandpa @highly-functioning-mitochondria @jinsquishes @maximofftrash @diamonddia-mond @soliloquyboopboop

#bts #bts mafia #bts mafia au #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts writing #bts angst #yoongi x reader #hobi x reader #jungkook x reader #edge of tonight #part twelve #jin x reader

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