Im Trying To Decide Which Minho Fic To Write. One Is Angsty And The Other One Is A Dark Academia Au.

I’m trying to decide which Minho fic to write. One is angsty and the other one is a dark academia au. Gahhh I don’t know which one 😭

TALK TALK — PT. 5 of MEGAVERSE — [18+!]

AN INTERACTIVE SERIES

“Call me by that name again, doll. You’re so pretty for me, letting me do all the work.”

❇️ Confusion is taking over your life, so you decide to take matters into your own hands and confront all the questions bothering you. And while trying to figure out if your best friend actually made a move on your crush, you run into her older brother instead. The tension has always been there and perhaps tonight, you’ll act on it…

❕ [READ CAREFULLY] Select an option for the poll after reading a chapter! [polls will be up for 7 days and then the next part drops]

🧩 CONTENT INFO: skz ot8 x afab reader [not at the same time], smut/fluff/angst, parallel universe/video game au, sci-fi au

📗 WORD COUNT: 4.9K

⛳️ CONTENT WARNING: explicit sexual content [includes protected sex, choking, praise kink, name calling such as good girl and doll], alcohol consumption, jealousy

💚 AUTHOR’S NOTE: make sure to read the info on the duration of the poll this week!! it’s shorter but you’ll get a new chapter sooner this way 🤭 I’ll be on vacation and have to post a little earlier! I hope you still enjoy this part and if you do so, please let me know in the comments or reblogs or asks. It’s always appreciated and thank you for all the support so far 🫶🏻✨

“Shit,” you curse to yourself, when the floor underneath your feet makes a creaking noise. Quickly, you collect all your stuff after spending a short time in the unfamiliar bathroom.

Minho’s eyes open slowly, before he sees you standing in his vision, already dressed—unlike him who’s still under the covers, trying his best to wake up.

“You’re already leaving?” he asks, a yawn slipping out of his mouth.

This is so awkward. You don’t want to make it this awkward. But you also have a job and a very demanding boss that you don’t wanna get in a conflict with.

“Work. I’ve got work. I’ll text you, okay?”

You know how this comes across and that’s by no means what you plan to say. You enjoyed the night spent with him although it was so different to the Minho you know—from a universe far away from this.

So, you rush towards the side of the bed again and place a soft kiss on Minho. He’s startled but still gives in.

“I’d be thinking you’re lying but you’ve got my number after all,” he chuckles.

You giggle as well, “I swear, I’ll text you. I’m just running late. Thank you for last night.”

He gives you a soft smile, before you feel the palm of his hand collide with your butt. “Now get going, princess. Have a nice day.”

Minho watches you leave his studio apartment, as you disappear behind his front door.

The way to your workplace takes you not that much longer from the small town that Minho lives in. Once you get there, Doli shoots you an annoyed glare but doesn’t say much. What a fucking relief. Perhaps you’re lucky since you’re still new here. Or Jeongin covered you without you having to ask him.

Fortunately, the trouble of finding a husband within less than five days can be avoided for the next few hours, when Jeongin tries his best to make you laugh with all the jokes he shares. 

He invites you for dinner after work but you decline, telling him you need some introvert time for yourself—not a total lie—since you have to get home first. After all, you spent last night in a different bed and need to sort things. Right.

And in addition, you dearly hope you’ll run into Felix to discuss a few things with him. God, the sheer thought makes your heart run at lightning speed.

But why?

Why did his weird reaction after you and Jeongin spent time together leave such a confusing aftertaste?

You try to shake the anxiety off and take the next train back to Starlost Boulevard, finding your house as you left it. Well, what would have happened?

Right in the little backyard, there’s Felix sitting and reading a book. Venessa seems to still be at work or wherever, which makes it a lot easier to approach your childhood best friend.

You need to figure out what this is between you. You’re unsure, if the feelings from back then are actually reawakened or if the idea of what could have been disturbs your judgemental skills in this. Maybe you’re just seeking familiarity, maybe it’s been Felix all along.

What if you married him? What if you end up with him at the end of the countdown and leave this parallel universe with him? How will your friends in the real world react? How will you even explain that he’s back out of the blue?

Fuck. There’s Han Jisung back on your mind again. The real one. Not that version that seems to have some secret and perhaps a thing going on with Cecilia.

You brush that thought off, not wanting to assume thing—maybe it’s better to ask Minho again for more details once the time is right—and slowly approach your neighbour.

“Hey, Lix,” you greet him, taking the empty seat right next to him. You can tell that he’s caught in his own thoughts, at least you think so when you see how surprised he looks.

“Oh, hi, Y/N. H-How are you? I didn’t hear you come back home last night, is everything fine?”

On the inside, you sigh. But you try your best to not show it. It’s absolutely fine that he questions whether you’re okay or not but for some reason you wonder if there’s more behind it.

“I’m fine. I met an old colleague,” you tell him, not specifying further.

“That’s nice! Did you have a good time with them?”

You nod, “Yes, it was nice seeing him again.” You notice the slight shift in his expression when you change the pronoun of the person you’re talking about, indicating you were out with a man. And probably spent the night with him.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?”

Oh, now he’s straightforward. You didn’t expect that.

“Sure, Lix,” you encourage him and your dumb heart starts beating so damn fast again.

“What are we? B-Because we shared that wonderful moment together a few evenings ago and, sure, two days ago this was all just a game with Hyunjin and Jeonghan–“

“Jeongin,” you correct him.

“Right. Jeongin. I talked to Hyune and I understand that there was no reason for me to be jealous when it was a silly party game. But… we basically confessed that we could have been more all this time and you… go on dates, which is fine, but could we maybe discuss first what this was?”

Fuck. You realise now that you’re partly to blame here too. You’ve never talked about what happened. Sure, you wanted to see where things are going naturally but in this world, situations seem to happen quicker and in the back of your mind there’s that quest you need to handle.

“I’m… shit, I’m so sorry, Lix. I didn’t realise how rude this was,” you apologise, meaning it. “I’m… confused, I guess. Look, I just moved here, started a new job and I didn’t even expect you to be here… so maybe that’s why the two of us let it go so far that night.”

That’s the only rational explanation. You probably wouldn’t have slept with him that quickly if you weren’t so overwhelmed all the time. Which doesn’t mean that you regret it—you probably would do it over and over again but perhaps at a slower speed.

“So, this didn’t mean anything to you?” he asks.

For fuck’s sake, are you that bad with words or does Felix want to not understand you?

“Lix, no. That’s not… that’s not what I was trying to say. I like you… I really like you. But I need some time. It’s not the right timing at the moment.”

“Is it because of your colleague?” he asks.

“Jeongin? No, we just met. I don’t have feelings for him,” you say. Well, at least not yet.

“No, the one you met last night.”

You sigh, out loud this time. “No. If I’m absolutely honest, I still have a crush on someone else.” Because you do. On Jisung. He lives in another universe but Felix doesn’t know and you will sound like a maniac if you tell him. So, you just try your best to explain your mess of a heart.

“On my former roommate. The one that was the reason I moved here”—not a lie considering you ended up in this universe because you were trying to marry his Sims version—“and started over. I don’t talk to him anymore but… I’m not sure what I want.”

“That was honest,” Felix replies. “Thank you for this. It puts things in a new perspective. I absolutely understand, Y/N, and I’m sorry for ever putting pressure on you. I want aware, but simply so happy to have you in my life again.”

He gives you a soft smile and you place your hand in his, a small gesture to tell him that the both of you are okay.

When you blink and open your eyes again, there’s a message in holographic letters filling your view.

[New information]: You used to have a crush on your former roommate Jisung Han until he confessed to having feelings for your former best friend Cecilia Kang.

What the fuck?

So, if you’re being honest and developing your character, you’ll get more information? What the hell is this game that you’re trapped in? Who’s messing with you?

“Y/N, listen,” Felix begins again, squeezing your hand tight, “now that I know what’s going on with you and between us, I feel a lot more calm. I don’t have an actual issue with you going on dates. Hell, I’m the one who left all these years ago. If you still want to take things slowly, I’m here. I don’t mind waiting another half a decade.”

You chuckle and he joins you, before Felix leans closer towards you. Your childhood best friend slowly tugs a lose strand of your hair behind your ear, as he eliminates the distance between the two of you. The kiss is short, but oh so soft, making you forget about time and place for a second.

Perhaps, Felix might be a good choice to make it out of this game.

It was definitely the best decision to go to a street food festival because who doesn’t like them, right?

Except for the ridiculous high prices, it’s a good opportunity to try out new meals, sweets and other treats that you probably wouldn’t have ever heard of otherwise. 

Soon you learn that the Seoul street food festival—well, parallel universe version—offers a huge variety of dishes you’ve always wanted to take a bite from. You start with an appetiser and make your way to another booth that sells deliciously smelling ramen, when you spot a certain someone.

“Minho,” you greet him, “long time no see.”

He giggles about your joke, as he pulls you into a quick hug. Wow. That’s new. And a little awkward. The Minho from real life would never hug you. But you like it. You like this version of him. It will be weird to go back home again.

Wait—what happens if you choose Minho? If the two of you return to the real world, will he replace your boss? Will you keep your job and work as a fashion influencer?

God, all these questions make you feel dizzy once again.

“Would you like a drink?” the man in front of you asks, pulling you back to the current conversations.

You nod, following him to the bar, “Absolutely.”

It’s not a secret that you still have to get used to being on terms with Minho that don’t make you want to scratch his eyes out, but you enjoy it. This man’s taste in food—you're currently sharing a dessert—and drinks is immaculate. But in this world, he doesn’t brag about it.

One conversation follows after another and maybe it’s the secure bond of friendship you seem to have developed with your longtime enemy or the alcohol rushing through your system, but perhaps now is the time to figure out more about Jisung.

You already know that your former roommate seems to have a crush on your best friend in this universe. God, what if this applies to the real world too?

Okay. Calm down, Y/N. Worrying means suffering twice and all the speculating in your little head won’t get you anywhere. In order to get helpful answers, you need to ask the right questions.

“Minho, can I talk to you about something?” you start and he immediately looks at you, taking another sip from his drink.

“Always, Y/N. What is it?”

You take a deep breath, feeling a little weird now that you’re asking Minho of all people but you have to remind yourself that he’s different in this world and that you need to get further somehow to make it back home.

“What do you know about Jisung and Cecilia? Despite from the stuff that I told you,” you start.

He instantly gets reminded of the night you seeked help from him of all people. It was the typical who did this to you enemies to lovers scene when you came back to the restaurant you used to work at, tears streaming down your face. You told him about the fight with your former best friend, how she confessed being in love with your roommate—the man you’ve been crushing on for years too.

But Minho knows more. He didn’t tell you that night because of the fragile state you were in. Still, you must have noticed that he hasn’t told you the whole story of what he’s aware of. But he wants to be honest with you.

“They kissed,” he confesses.

And your heart crashes. Splits in half. Falls down further. Collides with the ground. Shatters into pieces. 

This is just a game. This doesn’t mean it applies to your Jisung from real life too.

But how can you be so sure? Everything regarding feelings in this universe was pretty much alike to your life back home? So, what if these people are the same ones just in different stages of their life and accepting of their feelings for you or another person?

“How do you know?” you question further. Fuck. The tears are pricking on your lower lashline again and faster than you’re able to realise what’s happening, the first droplet is rushing down your cheek.

Minho reaches for a tissue inside his pocket, wiping away the salty liquid, as he continues, “Akira told me.”

Right. You remember that they are friends here too. At least his character information told you so last night.

Wait—something flashes in front of your eyes then. There was one person that you have met so far that was not on good terms with Akira.

Shit, you forgot. Was it Venessa? Or Felix? Or Hyunjin?

And if so, why haven’t you realised sooner and what’s their reason for it?

“Akira told you?” you ask again.

“Yes, he saw both of them kissing when she visited him at his workplace. They work together, you know. Akira and Ji,” Minho reminds you.

Great. Another detail that’s identical to the real world.

“Y-Yeah, I know. I’m just… surprised, I guess,” you tell him.

“Believe me, we all were. I mean, Cecilia is such a kind person and a close friend to all of us, so why would she do that?”

Is he being sarcastic? It would make sense, considering you’re speaking to Minho but something about the sincerity in his voice tells you he’s telling you the truth.

What a joke. You need to enter a parallel universe to have a best friend that’s not making backhanded compliments to you on a daily basis.

“Right… maybe it’s because of Hyunjin,” you propose. You heard him talking about her and referring to her as being annoying after all.

“Perhaps,” Minho agrees. “Because he doesn’t like her back?”

“Yeah,” you add.

“I don’t think she’d do something like this, though. Sure, she can be a bit much with her simping and adoration for our painter but Cecilia is a decent person that wouldn’t harm anyone—neither with her words nor her actions,” he explains.

What?

You don’t want to sound like a bitch in your head but has Minho ever met her?

“Like, remember when and she made this cake for Hyunjin after his first art collection flopped. Or when you failed the semester in college and she spent hours studying with you and even made the prof re-read your term paper and you passed. She’s there for her friends but often misses to take care of herself.”

You wished that ever happened. Now you actually want to meet her.

“Maybe Jisung sees something in her,” is all you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“Still, your best friend shouldn’t date the guy you like,” he tells you, meaning it.

“I–“

“It’s no secret, Y/N. Everyone knows except for Jisung himself. And I feel like the worst best friend myself that I still can’t hold back my own feelings for you. I’m just like her, I guess,” he confesses, his lower lip getting caught between his teeth.

“No… it’s okay,” you shush him off, “I’ve been confused for some time about what and who I really want. I’m not even sure anymore if Jisung and I are meant to be.”

That’s all Minho needs to send you the sweetest smile you’ve ever witnessed on his face, “You know where to find me, yeah?”

“Thanks, Min,” you say.

“Do you need a ride home?”

You shake your head no, “I’m gonna stay a little longer, I guess.”

After all, you’re still on a mission. Finding a potential husband just like the game told you. That’s why you went to the festival all along. Well, and the food. Let’s be real, the food was the main part but you’re looking forward to see what your options in love are too.

Minho hugs you right before you part ways and he says goodbye to you. Making your way to the bar, you get another—this time non-alcoholic—beverage for you, now sipping on your lemonade.

You wonder if the narrator—that’s what you call those messages that appear from time to time—is messing with you and just made you attend this festival so you can talk to Minho again. Or if there’s something or someone else still waiting for you.

Your gaze hovers around the area, taking in the beautiful view of the colorful lights and decor. It’s gotten a little less crowded, most people having their drinks and sitting on benches by now as they listen to the shooting sounds of someone playing the guitar.

“Y/N, hey, long time no see,” you suddenly hear a familiar voice beside you.

He’s standing there, wearing a tight black shirt, a drink in his hand.

“Binnie, wow, what are you doing here?”

“Changbin Seo. Business [Level 6]. 25 years old. Oasis Summer. Traits: athletic, kind [3 more hidden traits]. Friends: Chan Bahng. Cecilia Kang (half-sister). Hyunjin Hwang. Johnny Zest. Acquaintances: Seungmin Kim. Enemies: Lily Feng.”

You don’t meet Jisung tonight. You won’t talk to your so-called best friend who seems to be dating your crush but you have the possibility to speak to her brother instead. What a turn of events, huh?

“I had to leave the city of good weather and sunshine once and acknowledge the rain clouds of Seoul. I’m kidding. If there’s a street food festival, you can be sure I’ll be the first one attending.” He suddenly realised he’s rambling. “How are you? Everything alright?”

You offer him the seat next to yours and he sinks down, his body only a few centimetres away from yours.

“Yeah! I’m fine. I started a new job. Moved places. To Starlost Boulevard and I really like it,” you explain, as if you made any of these decisions.

After all, you ended up inside this universe for God knows what reason and ever since then you were given some options to different scenarios you barely remember. You ended up at a food festival. At least you think that you made that choice on your own—or didn’t you?

“Oh, that’s great! The town is not far from mine. I moved to Oasis Summer a couple of months ago,” he tells you.

Wherever the hell that is…

“Amazing!”

Changbin takes a sip from his beverage that looks like the same type of lemonade you’re currently drinking. He gives you one of those mischievous smiles that he does best, as he keeps talking to you.

With Changbin communication has always been easy. You haven’t been as close with him as you are with his little half-sister, but you get along quite well. Changbin is like the positive, for sunshine and less toxic version of Cecilia. Wow. You keep wondering why you ever became friend with her.

Possibly, it’s that scenario of becoming friends in school because you see each other everyday. And after you graduated college and your everyday routine changed, you started to question, first, why you were friends with her and, second, in a scenario of meeting her today—would you become best friends with Cecilia?

We should always keep in mind if a certain friendship gives us energy or drains us. Sure, there’s no black and white thinking here but if the latter applies more, it’s for sure time to contemplate if someone should stay being an important part of our lives or not.

You don’t have that issue with Changbin though. Yes, as mentioned, you’re not that close with him but still close enough to call him your friend.

“So, how’s life as a fashion influencer?” he asks, deeply interested in the conversation.

“A lot harder than I thought. Your work day never really ends. You know, with social media you have to be on time, you have to be the fastest to stay viral and that can be exhausting mentally,” you explain.

He nods, “I get that. I work in economics. It’s quite the same. I’m happy I’m allowing myself to get the evening off and not check my work mails.”

Another detail that’s close to the real world. Both Changbin being a workaholic and him being active in the finance field. Strange.

“Oh, sure! That’s probably a lot harder,” you say.

“I think it depends on the person,” he adds with a smile. “Can I ask you something?”

This world is a lot more straightforward than back home but you’re slowly getting used to it.

“Of course.”

Changbin takes a deep breath, “It’s totally fine if you decline considering I’m Cecilia’s brother but… I’ve wanted to ask you out on a date for some time.”

Maybe Changbin is oblivious about the oh so obvious feelings you have for Jisung like Minho told you or he decides to ignore it. Maybe, he knows even more about that thing between his sister and your crush.

Should you agree and go on a date with him? Or perhaps allow even more? Maybe it’s the dim moonlight or the familiarity Changbin offers you when he’s talking to you for hours with no end, but you swear, there have been a few moments between the two of you that were a bit more than simply platonic.

This is for scientific purposes. Right. Well, you would be lying if you said this is the first time you’re looking at your best friend’s brother’s muscular arms for a little too long. But they’re just so… you’re sure they’d look even better wrapped around your neck, pulling your back towards his stomach while he is–

Fuck, get it together, Y/N.

You blame it on the endless opportunities you have to take to figure out who’s gonna be your husband in… five days. Shit.

Could Changbin be a potential spouse? He’s got everything. A stable job, you’ve always found him attractive, he’s a good listener and makes you feel safe and comfortable while staying respectful. Gosh, he sounds too good to be true.

Would it be weird when you return back home? And once again, will this version replace the real one?

Too many questions and not enough answers. That’s your life motto nowadays. Also called total confusion.

But fuck it. You’ve got no time to waste and if you wake up again in five days and nothing matters anymore from this strange copy place, you’d regret not taking every chance.

It’s a game after all, right?

“I’d love to. I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” you admit.

A bright smile appears on his lips, “I’m so happy to hear this.”

“Can I ask you something too?” you begin again, placing your hand on his, taking the initiative. Changbin is a little startled at first but he gives in. The woman he’s been crushing on for years touching him? He’s the last one to decline anything.

“Everything, doll,” he encourages you.

“You said you moved to the neighbouring city to mine? Why don’t you show me around?”

His gaze darkens, he knows exactly what you mean, “Are you sure? Don’t you want me to invite you on a proper date first? Do this the traditional way?”

You smirk, getting closer, until your lips align with his ear, “I love that too. But we can adjust the order. Fuck first, date later.”

Scientific purposes. Right. That’s why you visited Changbin in his mansion—he’s actually rich—for the night, right?

Well, perhaps there’s a lot more to it. Pent up feelings and sexual frustration that comes with your best friend having such a handsome brother. The world is unfair. But you try to not bother with morals or your guilty conscience right now.

Not when Cecilia was the one to have feelings for your crush.

Not when your best friend kissed said crush despite knowing about you.

Not when Changbin currently has got you in a mating press position, rutting his hard dick into your cunt. Yup. A total deja-vu to last night although a little different. You’re not engaging with the forbidden trope of the enemy this time but chose the best friend’s brother, basically living every booktok-viewer’s wet dream. Literally.

“You’re such a good girl for me, hm? I can’t even tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this…”

“Me too, Binnie,” you admit.

“Fuck—call me by that name again, doll.” He slightly changed the angle, allowing him to enter you even deeper. “You’re so pretty for me, letting me do all the work.”

“I’m gonna take you on the best date you’ve ever had, spoil you like a queen, I promise.”

You’ve never expected such domestic affection to make you even wetter than you already are. Perhaps Changbin would actually be a good choice to be your husband.

He’s got everything. A stable job, you’ve always found him attractive, he’s a good listener and makes you feel safe and comfortable while staying respectful. He makes you come over and over again, praising you with all your favourite names without end.

“R-Right there,” you cry out, when Changbin drives you to yet another orgasm. He’s stabilising himself with his arm right next you you, while his other hand is busy being wrapped around your throat, applying light pressure to the sides.

“Give me another one, doll, I know you can,” he tell hi.

And that’s what you do. For the nth time, you sense your walls clenching around his throbbing length, before you come undone. Stars blind your vision, as the electric feeling takes over you. Changbin makes you guide you through another high with soothing words and steady motions.

Just right before he follows, his seeds shooting right into the condom. He calls out your name like a mantra, cute little whimpers slipping in between, before he pulls his softening cock out of you again.

“That was amazing,” you confess. He chuckles, agreeing, as he takes care of your exhausted body.

When the two of you are together in bed again, cuddling to keep each other warm—the city gets rather cold at night—you’re caught with the confusion again. Maybe you should just straight up ask him. You’ve got nothing to lose, right?

“Changbin, can I ask you something? It might sound a little weird…”

“Anything, doll,” he encourages you.

“I’m… life has been feeling strange to me, as if I’m trapped in a derealised version of my life,” you start.

He looks at you, tilting his head, “I’m not sure if I can follow…”

“I… have those memories… especially about Cecilia being this person that makes backhanded compliments on a daily basis and is rather mean,” you continue. Maybe phrasing it like this won’t make you seem like a total idiot.

“No, Y/N. Everything is normal. My sister has always been kind to you. We all grew up together in Seoul until you left for Starlost Boulevard,” he reminds you.

“What on earth…”

So, Changbin is not aware. Jeongin seems to be aware though. So what’s the deal?

“What do you mean by that?”

“By what?”

“Earth?”

“It’s something you say, when you’re confused,” you explain.

“No, I mean, what’s earth?”

Your eyes widen, “The planet we're living on. Stop messing with me, Binnie. I know you like to joke and all but it’s not funny.”

This has to be a dream after all. What’s going on?

“I’m not joking. I’ve never heard of this. The planet we live on is ITEM,” he tells you.

“What?”

“Yeah. I think you should get some sleep. Maybe it’s the heat getting the best of you. Get some rest, okay?” he tells you, seeming worried.

“O-Okay.”

Something is wrong. It feels as if you’re not the one controlling this game you’re caught in, as if someone else is making decisions for you. You’re dizzy and left confused—you’ve been for a long time. But what if you’re actually trapped inside the save file you played to deal with that little crush on your roommate?

What if there’s someone outside, in the real world, hitting the keyboard and clicking the options, deciding what they think is best for you?

And if that’s the case—who is behind all this?

To answer this question, you have to talk to the one person who might be able to solve this riddle together with you.

Yang Jeongin.

You reach for your phone, sending him a quick text that you should talk to him after work. 

And of course, the narrator is back again like they always are at the end of yet another day, proposing a new idea of how to find the love of your life.

This time, they show you a dating app, quite the opposite of tinder and all those platforms. There aren’t any pictures of the people, only a short description to each.

Despite the poll going on for full 7 days, the voting will close on Friday, 20th September 6PM/18:00 CEST/GMT+1!!

© j-One25 2024 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

Changbin is the sexiest man alive go argue with a brick wall ;-;

This is not a safe space for Changbin antis or anyone who is an anti of any members in SKZ

marred marriage | seo changbin

pairing: husband! seo changbin x gold digger! fem! reader

genre: marriage au, suggestive smut (18+)

synopsis: being so anal about commitments yet choosing to be stuck in a marriage is very confusing for you

warning(s): infidelity, crude language, sexual content (minors dni), mutual masturbation, pet names (darling, baby, babe), lowkey kinda toxic lmao 🫠

word count: 2k

You’ve come home late multiple nights a week without your husband questioning it and you are quite sure that he knows what you are up to.

It was quite obvious too. The engagement and wedding bands both absent from your ring finger. Cheap cologne lingering on your clothes. Wine red bruises blooming on your neck and collarbone.

The week after you got married to Changbin, you continued your lifestyle at bars and clubs as if you were still single. In your book, you were still single and still ready to mingle. After all, you only married your husband for his money and not for love.

Changbin is a workaholic working in the finance sector. He practically lives and breathes numbers. Other than the gym, nothing much happens in his personal life. But he is getting to that age when marriage is always asked in conversation. Many people ranging from his family, friends and coworkers had been urging him to finally settle. He decided that it was time. The man didn’t care for who he ends up with. Just as long as he gets settled.

The big problem is, no one seems to want to stick around for the long run. His dates would end up with the other person just not being interested in him or they have some commitment issues or they just want a quick fuck. The longer this went on, the more desperate Changbin got. He just wanted someone who was willing to stay. Fuck, love is not even the thing Changbin is looking for. Just someone who is willing to stick with him. And he is willing to provide too.

Fun is what you enjoy. Bars, clubs, casinos, speakeasies, fucking around with multiple people at the same time. You have absolutely no desire in staying in a committed relationship. Those were booooring to you. Having fun with different people in the ungodly hours of the night keeps you alive. It was fun. Relationships were not fun.

Your dates never lasted to second ones and it was only Changbin you were willing to give another date. Who wouldn’t want to bag a guy who works at finance?

It wasn’t until the fourth date where you were starting to show disinterest at him. He started bringing up marriage. YUCK. Right when you got up to leave, he grabs on to your wrist. His hold was firm yet not enough to hurt you.

You can sense the desperation from his eyes. “Please just please… I’ll provide for you. You can still live your life. I don’t care what you do. Just marry me… please.”

And here you are now. Changbin’s high rise condo is located at the heart of the city’s downtown. You are nursing a glass of wine on your hand while the other is holding your phone as you complain to your friend on the other side of the screen.

“I mean don’t get me wrong. I love him for his money but I just hate being tied to this marriage.” You take another small sip of wine.

Unbeknownst to you, your husband was eavesdropping on this conversation since it started. You haven’t noticed that his bedroom door was ever so slightly ajar, making it easier to listen in. It was also helpful you had your phone on speaker mode.

“Girl. There are lots of other women out there who would kill to be in your position. He lets you fuck around while still giving you money.”

“Actually. He doesn’t know I’ve been fucking around. Or maybe he does I don’t know. He did say he doesn’t give a fuck about what I do with my life so I’ll take it. But at the same time. You know me. I hate commitments.”

And Changbin does give no fucks if you sleep around or not. It’s what you feel about this marriage that he worries about. Well granted he did kinda coerce you into giving in with his money but he just didn’t want you to leave. He needed another way for you to stay.

Later that night, you were getting dolled up to meet a Tinder date at a hotel. You cover your dress with a trench coat. Just as you were about to head out. You spot your husband sitting on the sofa.

“Going out somewhere tonight, darling?” He gives you a smile. Had it not been for that darling you would have thought this question had no underlying intent.

“I was gonna go meet up with Stacy at this new Thai restaurant that just opened,” you lie.

“Is that so?” He knew it was bullshit.

“I uhm…I thought you would be working tonight?”

Changbin took a gulp of scotch before answering. “Took the night off.” Which was not a lie. He genuinely needed a rest. But he also had plans for you.

“O-kay. I’ll be heading out now,” you say as you opened the door.

That’s when he dropped the big gun. “I don’t care who you sleep around with because baby, at the end of the day, you come back to this home. You come back to me.” You turn around with him giving you the biggest smirk on his face.

You closed the door and took a step forward to him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Shut up.” You gulp. What is your husband on?

Changbin finished his glass of scotch, placing it on the coffee table along with his glasses. Now that you think about it, you haven’t seen him without glasses even after the wedding and well… he looks hot. Why is your husband hot?

He wanted to tease you. He wanted to fluster you and it’s working well so far. “You say that you hate his marriage but you never do anything to end it. You enjoy this life babe. You need me,” he says, as a matter of fact.

“I don’t need you…” Now your face was all tinged in pink. Changbin has always been nonchalant when it comes to your marriage but now, he definitely isn’t acting that way.

“Oh yeah? You don’t need me?” He crossed his arms making his biceps more pronounced. He is definitely teasing you now that you see through him. But what’s frustrating is you don’t understand what’s the point of this thing he is doing. Well. Two can play this game.

“Well. I definitely don’t need you for sex,” you retorted with a smug grin on your face.

“Are you saying that because you’re horny and wanna have sex right now?”

“What?! No! I’m just stating facts okay.”

“Hmm whatever floats your boat Y/N.” And he leaves to go back to his room.

What the hell just happened? Why was he teasing you all of a sudden? He doesn’t care, right? Why did he look so goddamn attractive while flustering you? All these questions swirling in your head like a tornado. Gosh! You needed a glass of water and a moment to compose yourself. You sent a text to your date that you were going to be late.

You needed time to clear your thoughts. But as soon as you were ready to go out of the door again, you heard noises coming from Changbin’s bedroom.

Per your principles, you shouldn’t be giving two shits for your husband. But your curiosity betrayed you and your principles. His door was slightly open and you can hear him moan your name like it’s all he’s ever known. Your hands didn’t hesitate to betray your principles as they push his door open. Curiosity killed the cat because why was he splayed out naked on his bed, moaning your name repeatedly while his hand was on his fat cock? His face contorts from pleasure to that akin to mischief.

Honestly, Changbin thought it wasn’t gonna work. He completely expected you were going to continue with that date. But you were here. His wife was here in his room.

He clears out his throat. “I thought you said you didn’t need me for sex?”

“You think so highly of yourself,” you scoff as you take off your trench coat. ”I’m not gonna fuck you okay.” You slide off your body fitting dress, revealing a pink, lacy lingerie meant for your date tonight. Fuck now you have to cancel out on him. Changbin lets out a whistle as he eye fucks your delicious curves. He can’t help but salivate at the way the lingerie compliments your body. He knew this show wasn’t originally intended for him but can’t he have a little fun with his wife? Technically you are his. And he is yours. The rings and documents prove it.

You slide the lacy panties on the side to give him a better view of your pussy. Softly and gently, you start stimulating your clit with your fingers. As you slide a finger in, you can feel how sopping wet your husband made you despite him not even giving you a single touch. That’s how it’s supposed to be between married couples, right? Satiating each other’s needs. But you hate it. You hate him making you feel this good. You can’t help but drown in this heavenly pleasure. What’s worse is that none of your hookups has ever made you feel this way.

Changbin starts stroking his cock once again. Beads of precum were leaking from his tip. God he was also wet. His face, all red and drenched in sweat. His pecks and torso drenched in sweat. He’s not like anyone you have slept with. He’s fucking beautiful, and you can’t help but speed the movement of your finger inside you, making you let out the most shameless, loud whines.

As if your husband wasn’t any better than you. Changbin’s moans are your new, delicious addiction. You never knew he could sound this delectable. To be fair, you didn’t want to be intimate with him whether physical or emotional in any sort of way but this… this is what you have been missing out on in the past almost nine months.

“Y/N—FUCK!” Him saying your name in such a lewd manner drives you crazy that it makes you insert another finger inside your cunt. You observe him speeding up his movement and the bliss he feels is almost palpable.

“Fuck Binnie keep moaning out my name like that!” you reciprocate as you keep hitting that one spot that drives you insane.

Your husband was not fairing any better. He spread his legs out more as if you’re not already basking in his naked beauty. His hips thrusting the air, wishing he was balls deep in your cunt and that your bodies were pressed against each other but alas this will do for now.

“Come with me?” he asks with pleading eyes.

“Y-yes Binnie!”

Grunts and whimpers float about Changbin’s room as hands work in tandem to pleasure each other despite the lack of contact. The sounds you both make got only louder as you both are reaching the precipice of euphoria.

“F-fuuuck!”

“S-shit shit SHIT!”

You squirted on his carpet and his cum landing on his bedsheet.

Both of you were panting heavily. Changbin keeps his gaze on you while you shyly looked away. What. Have. You. Done. What have you done?

Coming with your husband that’s what. But it’s not illegal or morally wrong, no? In fact, it more than heavily encouraged for married couples to come together.

Your life is a sitcom for all the choices you have made. And this is one of them. You weren’t supposed to have feelings for Changbin, which is once again in accordance to your principles. But fuck your principles when you’re starting to want him. To crave him.

“I uhm I’ll clean up your carpet. Let me get fixed up first,” you say as you pick up your dress and coat. He nods and you exit his room. Your back is immediately met on the other side of his door and you slide down to sit and contemplate your choices.

Shit well that wasn’t supposed to happen at all. You can’t possibly be having feelings for your husband even if it’s just lust. Lust is already potent enough and what more if you fall deeper for him. But it’s not even a matter of if but rather when you fall deeper for him. What. The. Fuck.

You realize that you are utterly fucked.

A/N: Hello! I finally got around to writing once again after 3 months! 😭 Honestly, I planned on immediately writing something after my summer class but it was just so hard getting back into the groove. But I’m so happy I got to post again. I hope you were able to enjoy this read as I enjoyed writing it 😊 Also, I’m considering having a part 2 for this fic so let me know if you are interested in it! Have a great day!!! :D

You have your bias and you have the person you want to marry that is not your bias

resonance (scb x f!reader)

pairing: android!changbin x heiress!reader

genres/aus/rating: romance, angst, smut, arranged marriage, e2l (a little bit), sort of cyberpunk au, 18+

summary: Perfection - an idea that’s been drilled into you from birth. As the sole heir to the empire known as Miroh Labs, you’ve watched technology and tradition collide. However, your family’s latest venture is one that puts your own fate in limbo – ambitiously arranging a marriage to an android of their creation, known as C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N. Grappling with the idea of marrying a machine, you come to realize Changbin is more than a set of intricate codes – the profound depths of his abilities are capable of changing the fabric of society, and you, forever.

warnings: strained parent child relationships (OC's parents are jerks), mentions of past abuse (very mild and not described in detail), class differences, failed past relationship references numerous times, cameos from Chan, Jisung, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Yuna (ITZY), fair warning OC is a lot, Changbin is precious, self-doubt and negative feelings, arguments, alcohol, blood and injury, swearing, genetic engineering, talks of self-determination and agency, Streetlight my beloved makes an appearance

word count: 12k

a/n: happy (belated) bday to my beloved Changbin (almost a month later, nice)! i hope this is enjoyable and worthy of someone as wonderful as Changbin seems (i might have slightly fallen in love with him while writing this, don't look at me). the lovely banner is by Sarah (@caelesjjk). I hope you enjoy!

smut warnings under the cut!

smut warnings: sexual tension (lots of it), making out, kind of hatefucking?, sex outside (against a railing), clothed sex, dirty talk, brief nipple play, thigh riding, fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex (just because Changbin can doesn't mean you should), honestly more mild than the warnings imply

It’d been years since you’d seen candles - forgotten memories of birthdays past that faded into oblivion. Their warm, nascent glow had flickered much like your own life had, the comfort of past years giving way to the bright, grating pixels of the lights that illuminated New Domino - bright pinks, vivid greens, cool blues and silvers. Lights that greeted you from your window when you went to bed every night, reminding you that no matter how much your life stalled, the city never would, much of it your own family’s doing.

The years before Miroh Labs, your family’s company, took hold of the city,  became difficult to recall — before the towering skyscrapers blocked out the sun, neon lights replacing its rays, technology weaving itself seamlessly into the fabric of your lives, like the patterns on your dress.

Picking at the threads – you wonder if someone had put love and care into intertwining each one, meeting perfectly to create the image of a flower. But the thought quickly dispels — knowing that a specialized machine was behind it, or an android doing the work that was once meant for humans. 

Resonance, your family prided themselves on saying. The ability of an object to match another’s frequency – only it’d progressed beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Systems had advanced from being motherboards connected to screens to full blown humanized machines, who not only had to ability to perform human functions, but excel at them when it came to speed, efficiency, and cost. 

The thought of it made you sick to your stomach. As the presumptive heir to Miroh Labs’ empire, you’d seen firsthand how ambition had slowly given way to greed, your family creating and creating and creating, giving no mind to how their projects always seemed to end up in the hands of the city’s elite.

You’d been to the outskirts, the fringes of society failing to catch up with the advancement of the inner city, a ruined wasteland where people struggled to find work to bring home food for their families.

But they had candles, you muse, smiling lightly to yourself, remembering how you’d passed by a home once, devoid of any electricity, a single candle flickering in the window, the family huddled around their only source of light. It had brought them closer in ways that you could only dream of.

Which is why the intimate setting of the dining room shocked you today – lights dim, candleglow every prominent. Except instead of comforting you, it felt strangely eerie, casting shadows on the faces of your parents, seated at the head of the long table, your own chair pulled out at the very opposite end. 

Of course - your parents spared no opportunity to turn even the simplest of dinners into a boardroom meeting. Wincing, you feel the chair screech as you slide it across the cool tile, the sound grating your ears, which have begun to ring, pain throbbing at your temples.

The food is untouched, grave expressions on your parents’ face, and it’s your father who breaks the deafening silence.

“There’s a new project we want you to be a part of—”

“Forget it,” you pick at your plate. “I’m not interested. It’s not like I can contribute anything useful anyway.”

“This one’s different,” your mother’s voice cuts you off, and it’s softer, more gentle than you’ve ever heard it. For a moment, you could believe she actually cared.

Your father’s footsteps reverberate against the tile, walking over to your side of the table. A picture is set in front of you – a man. Dark curly hair, full lips, a strong jaw, the faint hint of muscle underneath his shirt. But it’s his eyes that pierce through the page – stark hazel. Your throat feels tight, closing in on itself.

“New employee?” you ponder, even though you know it’s not the answer.

Hazel eyes were for androids — no human would have eyes so piercing, ones that could glint in the darkest room, or pale in the brightest sun.

“___, meet C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, Computer Human Advanced Network Growing By Intelligent Nexuses. Our pride and joy.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the words, knowing they’d never applied to you – you with your rebellious streak, your lack of achievements, your failed engagement to a man that was far too good for you. 

Hyunjin’s face flashes in the back of your mind, and you fight to keep your expression from shifting.

“C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N was created for a very specific purpose you see — he’s been built and programmed to be the perfect companion. To provide all the qualities that one would normally seek in a spouse. Although humans are falliable, C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N is not. But we need a beta tester.”

The reality of what your parents are proposing dawns on you, horror creeping up your spine.

“No–,” you begin to protest, but you’re cut off by a wave of your father’s hand. 

“The announcements have already been uploaded to the city-wide servers. Starting tomorrow, news of C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N’s launch will go live, along with your engagement announcement. The wedding will be held in a week’s’ time.”

You look despondently to your mother, hoping the pain in your eyes is enough to dissuade her. Were you really that worthless to your parents that they’d hand you to a hunk of scrap metal, dooming you to loneliness for the rest of your life?

Your mother shakes her head. “___, dear, this is the least you can do for us, and for Miroh Labs. Especially given everything that’s happened.”

They always wielded it against you — the fact that you were hard to love. You hadn’t been enough to persuade Hyunjin to stay, and they’d experienced the fallout from whispers all around New Domino. Now, you were barely human in their eyes, not even equal to, and probably lesser than this machine they’d fabricated, one whose fate had become irrevocably intertwined with yours. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

When Changbin wakes, everything is a blur. While his lungs don’t burn for air, his circuits are driven haywire anyway by the new environment - the harsh gleam of fluorescent lights, the gentle whirring of motors, the coolness of the metal table. It hits him all at once, and he’s tempted to close his eyes again, to return to the darkness of being powered down.

A figure looms over him, a taller man in a lab coat, his eyes gentle and full of concern, almost as if he’s holding his breath looking at Changbin.

“Hello C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, my name is Chan. I am one of the lead research developers at Miroh Labs. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Changbin feels his system boot up, gentle heat spreading through the center of his body, all the way to his fingertips.

“Good morning, Chan. I am C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, Computer Human Andvanced Network Growing By Intelligent Nexuses. How may I be of assistance?”

His voice reverberates through his speakers, a monotonous tinge resounding against the empty walls of the lab, and he watches Chan’s face twist,

“Do you know why you’re here right now?” Chan asks, curiosity in his gaze.

“I am an advanced computer-human android, programmed to fulfill the role of a partner. My duties and capabilities include companionship, emotional support, and assistance with domestic tasks, designed to blend into one’s life seamlessly.”

As he speaks, Changbin notices his sensors blinking, watching different parts of his arm, chest, and the rest of his body light up as various programs are activated. 

Chan slides something in his direction – a sheet of paper with a picture on it. He takes a look at it, his cameras analyzing the woman in the photo. Everything from the colour of her hair to the tiny mole on the back of her hand, to the way she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, perhaps evidence that something is different with her psychology from normal humans.

“This is ___, the next in line to be CEO of Miroh Labs. You will be her future companion,” Chan sighs heavily. “The family has already gone live with the announcement for the wedding, we only have a week to prepare.”

Changbin’s sensors beep, red lights blinking while he processes what Chan is saying, and Chan looks on, a deep furrow in between his brows.

“A w-week?” Changbin, stutters, and Chan already wonders if there’s something wrong with his circuitry. That couldn’t be possible though, the ___ family had tasked him with working on this for the better part of nine months, dedicating each and every hour of his spare time to this endeavour. He brushes off the thought, knowing that there was no way your parents would proceed unless everything was guaranteed to be perfect. After all, the motto of Miroh Labs was to create a more perfect world.

Changbin straightens, legs swinging over the edge of the table as he rises, standing slightly shorter than Chan.

“I understand my responsibilities, Chan. I assure you I will carry them out to the best of my abilities, until ___ is nothing less than satisfied.”

Chan looks at the android in front of him, his face softening. For a moment, Changbin looked as real as him – from the way his hair curled to the strong lines of his body. He almost reminded him of a younger sibling, and a protective instinct washed over Chan.

“I know you will Changbin. But there’s also something you should know.”

Changbin looks up with anticipation at Chan, wondering if there was a new program Chan wanted to add, and whether that meant he had to wait before he could meet ___.

“Please don’t tell anyone I’m telling you this, but should you ever decide that this is what you want, or that you desire to do something different, to be somewhere else, there’s always a way out. You’re more than just an android Changbin.”

Changbin’s processors began to hum. More than just an android? It didn’t make sense to him. His programs were designed to be the best, to cover every single duty one could expect from a partner. What more could there be? Still, Chan’s words sparked intrigue, and he saved a recording of them to his memory, just in case they would be useful later.

“Alright then Changbin, shall we get started? There’s a lot we need to go over about ___ before the wedding happens. Her favourite colour, favourite foods, the layout of her apartment … these will help inform your programs to adapt even more perfectly to your duties,” Chan’s voice is calm and even, with no hints of the darkness of the previous conversation in his tone at all.

They tour around the laboratories, Chan introducing him to the new world he was now expected to be a part of — from the windows, Changbin looks out onto New Domino, watching the hovercrafts zip down the neon-lit streets, and the skyscrapers graze the clouds, a dense fog covering up the skyline. 

Changbin listens intently as Chan goes on, his motors continuing to whir and sensors lighting up as each new piece of information is revealed — the new dimensions of his existence seemed vast and overwhelming, and he worried whether he’d be up to the task, knowing what happened to androids who were faulty – they were deprogrammed, becoming no more than scrap metal to fuel the fires of those on the fringes of society. Shuddering at the thought, Changbin knew he had no choice but to succeed. All he could hope was that you would accept him too. 

Goosebumps rise all along your arms — you feel the thorns of the roses prick your fingers as you clutch the bouquet in your hands tighter, listening from behind the door as the muted whispers of the guests fill the ceremony space. You can hear cameras going off, preparing yourself to be met with a grand scene - shimmering lights, velvet drapes, everything bathed in opulent hues of gold and silver. 

There’s an uncomfortable buzz – everything had happened so quickly. From the invitations going out to the details being finalized, you’d had little to no say in any of it, the uncomfortable lace of the dress you could barely voice your resistance to scratching against your skin, setting it on fire. For once, you wished you could down a glass of champagne or two to keep the nerves at bay. 

A pit settles in your stomach once the door opens, and you’re blinded by the twinkling lights of crystal chandeliers. Heart pounding in your ears, you move automatically without thinking, heels clacking against the polished marble floor. Everything around you is a blur – senses in overdrive, it all melds together. The bright flashes of the photographers, the uncomfortably cold temperature of the room, even the soft tones of the piano becoming grating to your ears.

The only thing that remains clear is the figure waiting for you at the end. You suck in a breath – seeing Changbin for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how stunning of a specimen he was. Of course, he’d been designed to be crafted to perfection, but he was beyond flawless. 

Clad in a black tux, the fabric hugs his broad, muscular, frame and tapers at the waist, highlighting his athletic build. His dark hair is swept away from his forehead, exposing the prominent angles of his face. The put-togetherness of his appearance must only serve to highlight the chaos of your own, the makeup doing little to cover up the lack of sleep you’d dealt with ever since that fateful meeting with your parents. 

Coming up to the altar, Changbin extends his hand in your direction, and you’re shocked when you feel the warmth of his hand. Sparks jolt where your skin makes contact, and for a moment you forget that he’s not human like you, a jumble of circuits and running electricity. But it floats away when his posture goes rigid once again, with no hint of emotion on his face. 

Mechanical – that’s how every bit of this felt. From the brittleness in the officiant’s tone as he droned on about the sanctity of marriage, to the pointed stares and light din that surrounded what should have been a sacred moment – two souls joining together as one. But Changbin didn’t have a soul. And you weren’t sure you did either. The two of you were just glass figurines, put on display for everyone to ogle, cogs in the machine of this elaborate public spectacle that your parents had crafted. 

For a brief moment, you wonder if Hyunjin’s somewhere in the crowd, eyes widening as you search frantically for him, the one person who could have been your out, your chance at a normal life. But not a single face stands out to you – a crowd of strangers looking back at you. A bead of sweat pools at the base of your neck, and you suck in a breath.

You feel fingers wrap around your own, Changbin’s hand coming to clasp around yours, and it takes a moment for you to reorient yourself to the scene going on around you. The officiant is asking you to join hands, ready to repeat the vows that will join you and Changbin together. 

Changbin’s eyes bore into yours, the hazel containing more depth than you’d imagined for an android. 

“Are you ok?” the words are whispered so quietly you may have almost missed them. In fact, you believe you might have missed them, unable to believe what’s coming out of Changbin’s mouth. His voice is deeper than you’d expected, gravelly yet with a pleasant tone, far from the flat and monotone affect you’d expected. 

Either two things could have been true in this moment: 1) Changbin knew you better than you knew yourself, or 2) he was malfunctioning, a slip in his meticulous programming. But androids weren’t people, they weren’t capable of feeling for people. They were only capable of completing the tasks set out for them. 

You drop his hand, lips parting, unable to croak out a reponse for fear of arousing suspicion. But the moment is over before you’d even had a chance to respond, buried underneath his calculated rigidness once more. 

The knife twists deeper in your gut when your lips curl around the “I do”, the words sounding as artificial as Changbin’s own, sealing the vows that doomed the two of you to a loveless existence by each others’ side.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you pull the heavy diamond earrings out of your ear, setting them on the cool crisp marble of your bathroom counter, rubbing at your burning earlobes. Alone in the comfort of your bathroom, you feel like you’re finally able to breathe again. And that’s when it all hits you, the gravity of what had just transpired weighing on you with the force of a heavy boulder. 

Throat closing in on itself, you struggle to breathe, doubling over as tears fill your eyes. Fingers, shaking, you fumble with the laces of your dress, until the tightness is removed from your rib cage and you can finally breathe again, the dress falling to the floor.

If Hyunjin was here, he’d help you take it off, his fingers dancing delicately across the skin of your back. He’d remove the pins from your hair gently, pressing a kiss to your head in the spot where each one of them had been, until you finally grew tired of his teasing, pulling him in to meet your lips. If Hyunjin had been here, your wedding would have been full of love and joy and laughter, the most vivid of paintings come to life. But you’d lost him, and now yourself. You were alone.

A distant clanging jolts you from your misery, and you slip into your pyjamas, softly padding out from your bathroom to see what the commotion was about. Immediately, you’re hit with the aroma of savoury garlic and herbs, stomach rumbling in response. You’d barely eaten anything the whole night, scared that whatever you tried to would just come back up due to the gnawing feeling in your gut.

It hits you that you were no longer alone in this apartment — there was another being here now, one who’d managed to crawl inside the walls that you’d kept up. Changbin had no choice but to be here with you, to see you at your most vulnerable and exposed. 

The hallway is dark as you make your way to the kitchen, pausing when you see Changbin bent over the stove, a crisp white apron around his waist. He’d changed too, clad in a comfy pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt that showcases his wide shoulders.

The grumbling of your stomach gives you away – Changbin turning to see you at the threshold, his face lighting up in a smile. You notice how it doesn’t reach his eyes, restrained and polite – like the ones that littered the billboards of New Domino, promoting the latest breakthroughs.

“Dinner is almost ready,” he assures you. “I made aglio e olio.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise at the Italian dish he’d mentioned — one of your favourites, but it sours when you think about how he’d probably been trained by the researchers to know your preferences. If it had been another person, maybe he would have made kimchi jigae or maqluba. It meant nothing.

“Smells great,” you manage to croak out, grateful for the hot meal. In a few moments, the table is full of two steaming plates of pasta, Changbin taking his place at the other end. You’re grateful he doesn’t try to sit next to you, allowing you to eat in piece. Silence passes, filled only with the clanging of forks, and you watch Changbin bristle in his chair. He pauses every few moments, like he wants to say something, but holds back, until you can no longer take it.

“What is it?” you spit out, uncaring at how harsh the words come across. Changbin doesn’t flinch, but you watch lights run across his arm, whirring emanating from him, like he’s trying to process your actions. You let out a heavy sigh.

“Did you enjoy the meal?” he asks, and you’re taken aback. You hadn’t expected such a simple, yet earnest question. You’d half-expected him to ask you to rate his skills from one to ten, like the surveys that popped up whenever you dined out at a fancy restaurant.

“It was delicious,” you refuse to lie. The pasta had quelled the burning hunger you’d felt, making you considerably less irritable, and Changbin whirs to life again, processing what you’d just told him.

You help him clean up, the two of you working in tandem to clear the table, carefully skirting around each other. Shadows dance across the wall from the city lights reflecting through the window.

Warmth emanates from Changbin, as you feel his heavy breath fan the back of your neck, startled by how life-like it actually felt. You realize you’re caged behind his arms as he puts the dried plates into the cabinet above you, the air growing thick with something you couldn’t name.

Turning around, you’re pressed against the hard planes of Changbin’s chest, and you lurch at the way your body comes to life against his, nipples peaking in the cold air. 

A light flickers at Changbin’s temple, and he studies you curiously, watching the way your chest rises and falls, the way your breathing quickens.

His gaze lingers on your lips, leaning in closer. But before he can meet yours, you’re pulling away, shame and guilt in your chest. This wasn’t real. None of it was. And the sooner you learned to accept it, the less miserable both of you would be.

“I’m tired,” you whisper into thin air, turning your face away from his. “I want to go to bed.”

You swear Changbin’s eyes flicker for a brief moment before he straightens, responding with the mechanical tone you’d expected all along.

“Of course, you must be exhausted from today.”

You falter, not knowing whether he’d follow you into your room. Now that you were married, it was expected you’d share a bed. Stepping away, you’re relieved when he doesn’t follow.

Staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, your mind replays everything that had happened – the fake fanfare of the wedding to Changbin asking if you were okay, to whatever had just happened now. Changbin couldn’t have wanted to kiss you, right? He lacked his own desires. Someone had probably told him that was what couples did. 

The softness of your sheets and the light streaming in from your window did nothing to quell the turmoil arising within you – your room no longer felt like the safe refuge it had once been, where you could shut out the rest of the world. 

In the silence of the night, the weight of what your life had become settled heavily on your chest. Once full of warmth and love, it was now cold and unfeeling, as clinical as the hallways of Miroh Labs. 

For a brief moment, you hear steps come towards your bedroom, before they retreat. The hallway light flickers, before it’s turned off, and you’re able to retreat into the darkness once more.

No, you’d told your parents when they’d brought up the idea. Absolutely not.

As usual, your pleading fell on deaf ears. The invites had already been accepted, your dress had been arranged, and a night filled with mindless drivel and booze chatting with the city’s elite waited for you and Changbin. 

You hated it – this pretending. At home, it was easy to accept, the way you and Changbin moved around each other, the uneasiness of that first night permeating every interaction you’d had after. But out here, in New Domino, the pretending had to happen. You had to play the part of a couple in love.

Changbin took to it easier than you’d expected. You’d nearly stumbled the moment you’d stepped out of your room, watching him turn to you with hands tucked into the pockets of yet another black tux. You briefly wondered if it was the exact same one he’d worn to the wedding – it wasn’t like there was a need for him to have different outfits, since his clothes never got dirty. 

You hoped Changbin didn’t notice your gaze lingering on just how good he managed to look – outshining even your emerald silk gown. You wait for the same from him – a falter, a nod, some sort of acknowledgment that he was just as taken by you. But it never comes, his arm slipping stiffly into yours. 

The car ride to the gala is silent, a sea of nerves and anxiety filling the space between you two. The lights from the city pass you by, illuminating Changbin’s face in a strange, yet beautiful glow. 

However, you barely acknowledge it, lost in thought while watching the cars speed by on the freeway. Before long, the glittering lights of the manor greet you, and it feels as though you’re transported back in time. As much as the upper echelon of New Domino loved their androids and their hovercrafts, nothing could replace the value of a night full of egregiously expensive liquor and brainless chatter about how far society had come, knowing they’d done little to contribute to it besides emptying their pockets.

Changbin lingers by your side, and you’re painfully aware of his scent – the one he’d chosen for tonight. Black leather and sandalwood saturate the air in between you, and you notice the stares from other guests as the two of you weave through the crowd, you in search of water to clear the pounding headache that had begun to form at your temples.

For how out of place he is, Changbin dances the dance of your peers well – meeting their fake smiles with a polished one of his own, waving and happily introducing himself to anyone that passes by.

It shouldn’t bother you that none of it directed at you – you told yourself you didn’t want his affection, that he could never give you what he desired. So why did it bother you when he stops one of the hostesses for a glass of champagne, watching her face turn sour when he swerves to hand it to you?

You down the drink before he can even blink, moving away from him and further into the throng. Your head is buzzing, and you feel the alcohol come straight back up, rushing to the bathroom when you hear it – a soft whisper, but it cut through the music like a blade.

“It’s almost amusing,” a woman says, “to see such a flawless machine with someone so... human.”

“You know what happened with her last engagement, right? Hyunjin left her for another woman…”

It’s too much to bear, bile rising in your throat, before you feel a hand on the small of your back. If Changbin was human, you’d almost expect his knuckles to turn white with the force he uses to grip your waist. 

“I suggest you keep your unwanted comments to yourself,” Changbin seethes, watching the guests turn pale. You sway under his touch, head spinning from the combination of alcohol and Changbin coming to your defense, before he’s leading you away, the crisp night air from the balcony nipping at your backs.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you gently, while you watch the same light at his temple flicker. 

None of this was okay. None of it at all. But you didn’t want to make him understand how much was wrong with you being here with him, when it should have been someone else, someone you actually had loved. 

“It’s fine,” you clear your throat, peeling his hand from your waist. His touch continues even after you’ve removed his fingers, and you shiver. 

You were used to it – the stares, the whispers. They’d followed you your whole life, the cuts left in their wake eventually turning into hardened scars. You didn’t need defending, least of all from him.

“I’m going to leave,” you tell him, stepping away. “You’re free to stay. Please don’t let me ruin your evening.” 

“I can go with you,” his voice echoes from beside you, “I was getting tired anyway.”

A sick, twisted laugh bubbles from your throat at his insistence. Changbin didn’t get tired, he couldn’t get tired. He wasn’t like you.

“Stay,” your voice is resolute. “That’s an order, Changbin.”

Changbin turns to face you, recoiling at the red rimming your eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent when the lights of the manor illuminate you from behind. 

You don’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Your paralysis slowly melts away and you’re pushing him away without realizing it, walking away without another word. You don’t dare to turn around, knowing your heart would twist when you found Changbin looking at you again with that same blank expression – the one you’d come to know all too well.

Dawn is is barely trickling when you slip out of your apartment. Passing by the living room, you notice Changbin in the corner, standing against the wall. For a moment, he looks so peaceful you would almost think he’d fallen asleep. However, you take one look at the outlet and realize he’s powered down for the night, free from his duties of following you around. A pang of annoyance rattles through you. It should have been romantic, knowing Changbin had no point to his existence if it didn’t revolve around you. All it did was made you sick to your stomach instead. 

Curling your jacket tighter around you, you duck your head down, few vehicles on the streets due to the early hour. The city seemed eerie yet peaceful at dawn, the dim rays of sun barely breaking through the clouds, casting everything in a soft orange glow. Such a stark contrast from the bright neon and gray that tinged its walls at every other time of day.

With only the sound your heels slamming against the pavement to keep you company, your walk slips into a run as your coat flies behind you, the wind whipping through your air. The city is soon left behind, tall skyscrapers giving way to modest brick houses, plumes of smoke wafting through the air.

Fire. You smile at the thought of it. Fire meant happy homes, with happy families. Families who relied on each other, who loved one another.

The haze that had clouded your head last night seems to have subsided, head clearer from the fresh air. But thoughts of Changbin cease to depart as easily, and it leaves you to wonder exactly where you stood with him.

He cared, more than an android should. For a moment it almost seemed like maybe he–

You shake the thought away, rounding the corner, shoulders immediately slumping in relief when you see the worn-out sign of the clinic.

“___?” a voice calls out to you. “Is that you?”

“Hello Jeongin,” you smile at the younger boy who bounds down the steps when he sees your figure standing outside, hair windswept and cheeks flushed as he comes to a halt next to you.

“Noona, what are you doing here?” he asks, and you feel yourself shrink underneath his sincere gaze.

“What do you mean? I always come by this time every week,” you raise an eyebrow, watching Jeongin bounce on the balls of his feet.

“But noona, you’re married now.”

You freeze at his statement, not realizing that the news had reached here too. Jeongin’s eyes are alight with excitement, and you know he’s going to ask questions that you don’t have the heart to answer.

As if he can sense your trepidation, Jeongin ushers you inside, the warm smiles of the elderly patients you’d come to know and love greeting you.

Before long, the two of you are at work, you helping them fill out their paperwork while Jeongin works to check their vitals and bring them back for the doctor to see them. All the while, you’re regaled with stories about their lives, including lost loves, mischievous grandchildren, and fond memories of a time that has since passed. 

This is why you loved coming here. It reminded you that away from the hustle of New Domino, actual life existed. Life imbued with meaningful moments, connections, and people. Something that society seemed to have forgotten. 

“You have such a beautiful smile,” one of the regulars, Miss Choi, pinches your cheek affectionately. “It’s such a shame we didn’t see it in any of your photos.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, shoulders tensing. “I guess Jeongin must have shown everyone.”

“Of course dear, you looked lovely. And such a handsome groom too!”

She titters, and you ponder about whether or not she knows the actual details of your wedding, of who Changbin really was. Even if she did, would she understand it? Even though he’d long since passed away, Miss Choi had a husband who’d loved her, who was capable of loving her. She wasn’t a victim of someone else’s greed, of their ambition. She’d never understand the kind of abyss that New Domino had become, and if she did, she’d probably be horrified. 

You pat her shoulder, hoping she can’t see the way your breath hitches, before you’re rushing to the back, curling in on yourself as sobs wrack your entire body.

Jeongin is by your side in seconds, a steady arm on your shoulder, and you lean into the younger boy, someone who despite not having spent that much time with, had become your one of your closest friends. 

“How much of it did you hear?” you mutter, looking at the floor.

“I heard enough,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry, noona.”

You don’t know how long you stay glued to Jeongin’s side, unable to stand upright, the two of you failing to notice the figure watching from outside the window. 

. . .

Changbin hadn’t meant to follow you. He’d heard you slip out in the morning, not having powered down completely last night. After what had happened at the gala, his processors had gone into overdrive, replying everything – the whispers of those awful guests, the way you leaned into his touch, to your harsh words telling him you didn’t want him around.

Changbin wonders if he’d already failed at his task – it seemed like you didn’t care for his companionship, no matter how hard he tried. The walls you had built were too high for even his sophisticated technology to penetrate, and he hums, wondering if this meant he’d be deprogrammed. 

Chan’s words from before echo in the back of his mind – what did he mean an alternative? Was there another task he could be useful for, even if you didn’t want him?

Not wanting to dwell too long, he trails a safe distance behind you, watching you break into a run, limbs heavy with fatigue, your breathing labored, until an unfamiliar neighbourhood materializes, the grandeur of luxury boutiques and high-end restaurants fading into older buildings.

Finally catching up to you, he watches you embrace a younger man, the two of you walking into a battered, broken down building together. Heat floods Changbin, his gears kicked into overdrive, struggling to make sense of what he was witnessing. Did you already have someone else? Was this Hyunjin, the one who’d left you?

The air turns crisp the longer he lingers outside the door, waiting for any sign. He gets it when he sees a leaf fall, your figure appearing in the window, hunched over like you’re in pain. The same man from before is by your side, offering you his shoulder to lean on.

Changbin doesn’t know what comes over him — he’s at the door before he can think, even rationalize what’s going on. 

He waits until your figure materializes from the back, wanting to see who the new entry was. Your lips part in a silent gasp when you see Changbin standing there.

It’s like he’s malfunctioning, gears whining and lights glinting, his jaw tense when Jeongin comes up behind you.

“Noona,” he hears the other man whisper. “I think you should go.”

You nod wordlessly, motioning for Changbin to walk with you, the two of you ignoring the many eyes that follow you, making your way down the dimly lit street.

The wind whips around him as Changbin jogs behind you, watching as you push through the crowds of passerby. You walk and walk, and he follows, watching the houses disappear behind him as you go higher and higher, eventually stopping when the road ends.

The view isn’t even comparable to the one from your penthouse – it’s even better. From the hill, he can see everything – the houses you’d passed on your way, to the bright lights of the city center, to beyond the horizon, where a mass of dense clouds covers the horizon. Which is exactly where you’re looking, and Changbin can’t help but look too, wondering what lies past their cover. 

“I used to come here with Hyunjin,” you break the silence. “Before everything fell apart.”

“We’d just sit here and look at the sky,” you continue, words crashing into each other as you rush to get them out. Changbin doesn’t know whether he should reach out for you, but decides against it, not wanting to startle your trembling figure.

“We’d look at the sky and wonder about what the future would look like — a million different scenarios. Sometimes we’d be rich, other times poor, living in the city, living out of it. But we always had each other. Until he decided to leave.”

“We should get you home–”

“Am I really that hard to love?” you blurt out, and Changbin freezes, the naked truth of why you’d been so cold finally exposed to him. 

“___, it’s not, you shouldn’t think like this–,” Changbin struggles to analyze this, something far beyond the limits of what his data sets had compiled. This was different, this grief was beyond the depths of his understanding. This yearning for something else, someone else. 

“Can you make it go away Changbin? This emptiness that lives inside me. This feeling that my life has never been mine, will never be mine?” you taunt him, knocking against his chest, scoffing when you hear the hollowness of metal.

“You can’t, can’t you? You’re just an android–”

“I’M NOT!” Changbin screams, his circuits devolving into chaos at the sharb jab of your words, Chan’s words coming back to him. “I’m not! I’m not! I’m not.”

He feels sparks inside him, his words stilting as he struggles to get them out. His fingers grasp at the back of his neck, searching for the one button he knows can end this, can put him out of his misery. He doesn’t want you to see him like this.

He doesn’t even notice how close you’ve become until he feels your breath fan against his lips, like that first night.

“Prove it,” you whisper, eyes off to the side like you didn’t expect him to listen.

But he listens.

Changbin surges forward, seeking your lips, and you stumble for a brief second, thinking you’ll hurtle off the hilltop, before his arm comes up to wrap around you, your hands tangling in his hair in an instant. The wind howls around you both, yet a shiver ran down your spine, blood pounding in your ears.

His lips were softer than you’d expected, and you capture him with your teeth, drawing him in, a moan bubbling up in your chest. 

He feels so real. This felt so real. 

Changbin can hardly think either, kicked into overdrive, the feel of your hungry mouth against his, the fervent swipe of his tongue against your lips. You knew this was a bad idea, that it would complicate everything, but you didn’t have it in you to care, hands roaming everywhere, slipping  underneath the hem of Changbin’s shirt to trace circles against his hard stomach.

A strangled sound escapes Changbin’s throat, and the two of you part, flustered and trembling, Changbin resting his forehead to yours. Your fingers card through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and he moves again, roving down your jawline, lapping at your skin. Despite it being freezing out, a thin trail of sweat trickles down your neck, and Changbin doesn’t miss the opportunity to taste you, teeth grazing as he goes.

“Let me show you,” he rumbles into your chest, voice raspy from the lack of air. 

The cold metal of the railing juts against your back as Changbin lunges, his arm locking you into place. Your cry of protest turns into a gasp when he nudges a knee in between your thighs, spreading them apart. 

“God, just fucking touch me already,” you seethe, gasping when he thumbs at your nipples through the fabric of your shirt, the swollen peaks stiffening when he tugs them with his fingers.

An ache begins to build between your thighs when you look into Changbin’s eyes, their laser-like focus on you and you only, and that’s when his fingers slip underneath your skirt and straight to where you need him. 

“Say please,” he whispers, and for a moment, you imagine the same desperation in his tone that colours yours.

Even when you don’t say anything, he knows from the tremble of your lips and the slight nod of your head that you want this. 

The moment he swipes his fingers against your core, Changbin curses, palm meeting the furious grinding of your hips.

Your hands ball into fists, feeling the slick leak out of you, and you whine, a warm flush settling over your body, evidence of its betrayal.  

“Pretend all you want,” Changbin hisses. “Pretend you hate me. Pretend you don’t see me. But we both know you want this.”

You try to hold your resolve, your wet cunt leaking even more, walls fluttering around his fingers. One wrong move and you’d go hurtling over the railing. But Changbin’s grip on you is like a vice, which only makes you squeeze harder around his knee. 

He changes his pace, circling faster, harder, and your head goes hazy from the stimulation, your hands grabbing fistfuls of Changbin’s shirt. When you feel yourself teetering on the brink, body flushing with anticipation, it all stops. 

Panting, you look at Changbin, his dark eyes surveying you hungrily, and you hear the clink of his belt, quivering as you try and spare yourself from being utterly wrecked by the sight of his cock.

“Look. at. me,” he grabs your chin and turns your head towards him, your eyes fluttering from the delirium of it all.

Gripping your thighs, he sinks you down onto him. You cry out as the initial pain subsides and you feel his hips snap up into you, pubic bone rolling against your clit.

“Changbin, I, shit-, it’s too much!” you plead, shamelessly rocking aginst him as he sets a brutal pace, the sounds of skin slapping and your breathy moans echoing bouncing from the walls.

Changbin says nothing, planting a messy kiss on your lips, prodding his tongue into the seam of your mouth to taste, and you anchor your palms against the railing, allowing him to roll his hips upward, the two of you moving in tandem.

The fire in your abdomen reaches a peak, a new wave of arousal suddenly washing over you as you feel your hips jerk, coming undone as you collapse against Changbin, stifling a groan against his throat.

Lifting you off of the railing, Changbin’s arms reach around your body to press you against him, his lips ghosting your forehead, and you feel something wet against the side of your face. Tears.

“Changbin–”

You wobble to your feet, head swirling with emotion, but he’s already pulling away, the faint outline of his figure the only thing you see as he heads off into the night.

Sighing, you pull your glasses down onto your face, hoping they can diguise the fact that despite your best efforts, your night was absolutely restless, swimming with thoughts of Changbin.

After leaving you on the hilltop, he’d vanished, leaving you to make your own way home. And now, not even a day later, your parents had decided to add to your headache by summoning you for a board meeting. 

You expected them to ask for updates on your relationship with Changbin, to pry into your life, pretending like they cared. It was what they’d always done.

But you never expected this.

“I–, I don’t understand,” you gnaw at your lip, biting down so hard the skin may break. In front of you, the powerpoint gleams brightly. You can read the words off the slide, but you struggle to actually process them. And what they mean.

The beta testing was successful. Although people responded rather tepidly at first to the idea of a human-android relationship, we’ve gotten more positive feedback and requests to expand than ever. We’re on the verge of a new breakthrough here at Miroh Labs. And we want you to take charge of it. 

Your father’s words have been echoing ceaslessly in the back of your mind, ever since he uttered them the moment you walked in.

The news has you deeply unsettled. You’d thought that this was some kind of social experiment, that you and Changbin were some freaks of nature, two outcasts in society brought together as a spectacle for others. You’d never anticipated it would come to this. 

Miroh Labs wasn’t just looking to change the future of human-android relationships. No your parents twisted plan took it a step further – they sought to create models beyond Changbin’s capabilities as a companion, ones who would be equipped with the ability to reproduce. 

We’d never have to worry about birth rates or a weak genetic pool again.

Looking out the window, you look out onto New Domino, the blueprints reflecting onto the screen, clashing with the holographic displays outside, a stark contrast to the storm that was brewing inside the boardroom. 

Face illuminated by the blue glow of the screens, your breath comes out in short, uneven bursts. Your mother reaches out, watching your handles tremble, but you yank them away before she can clasp them in hers,

“Don’t touch me!” you hiss. “Was this all a fucking joke to you? Playing with my life, my emotions, so you could turn me into some kind of laughingstock for whatever sick idea you had?”

Standing up, you clutch the the documents to your chest.

“I’m done,” you declare. If you’d asked seven years ago, maybe you would’ve have done it, so desparate to please everyone around you that you’d say yes to whatever came your way. But now you knew better than to trust anyone. It’d only end up in heartbreak, and you refused to be a part of this sick and twisted legacy. 

You needed to talk to Changbin. 

. . . 

The soft thud of shoes at the entryway feels louder than ever, knowing that you’ve been lying on your bed for the past eight hours, willing the tears to stop. But they never did.

Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you prod your aching limbs to get up, soreness flooding your entire body when you stand. Padding softly out into the hallway, you gasp when you see Changbin there, standing solemnly against the window.

He knows you from even the quietest sound, head turning when you come up behind him. There was so much you had to talk about, so much to address. But you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

You reach behind you to grab the papers you’d stolen,and Changbin’s eyes widen with surprise when you push them in his direction, confusion marring his handsome face. 

The two of you stand there while he reads, a multitude of moments passing in silence.

“I don’t get it,” he protests. “This seems like a logical progression. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“You don’t get it, do you Changbin?,” you declare firmly, doing your best to overcome the wobble in your voice. “This changes everything.”

You hear Changbin whir, temple lighting up with red, and for a moment, all there is to fill the silence is the sound of clicking and beeping. Was this it? Had Changbin finally reached his limits.

You’d been thinking about this for hours, about how to tell Changbin, how to break the news to him. You had no idea where you stood without, about how he felt after what’d you’d both shared at the lookout. And despite the thousands of theorized and calculated ways you’d thought of in your head, telling you that this didn’t matter, that it wouldn’t hurt him, you still choke back a sob.

“Don’t you understand? They want to change everything, to alter what it even means to be human? If an android can reproduce with a human, then what’s the point of marriage? What’s the point of falling in love? It all just becomes a stupid commodity, a race to see who can pop out babies the fastest, who can engineer the most perfect spawn. All the meaning from life as we know will be gone.”

Changbin’s eyes flicker for a brief moment, hurt and confusion settling on his face.

“What are you saying ___? Look at me. Please.” 

The words come out in a desperate whine, Changbin lifting your face up to his, searching your eyes for a spark of emotion, but all he finds are hollow pools of emptiness.

You take a moment to respond, knowing that what you have to say will be the end of this, will probably drive a stake through the farce that had been your marriage.  

“You’ll never understand Changbin. You can simulate every single emotion and fulfill every task. Hell, even if they upgrade you and you’re somehow able to reproduce, you just won’t get it. Because you don’t know what real love is like; all you know is the substitute. And it will never be enough.”

“This isn’t fair,” Changbin chokes out, recoiling. “All I have ever done is my best. All I can ever do is my best. Why is that not enough?”

“I’m sorry,” you look at him, tears blurring your vision. “I wish it was.”

“A-are you going to deprogram me?” Changbin hums, and all of a sudden, his sensors go haywire, every single one lighting up and blinking until they devolve into chaos. Your heart lurches seeing him like this, reaching out for him, but he slaps your arm away.

“Do you know what the worst part of this is ___? It’s not you, or whatever you think you feel. Because you’ve never fucking known what you wanted. No, it’s that, for one fucking night, you had me convinced. Convinced that I was something more than just a hunk of scrap metal to you. Convinced that there was some sick, twisted part of me that actually thought you could love me.  But I don’t want you to lie to yourself anymore. I want to leave.”

You don’t say a word to him as he pads out of the kitchen, slipping his coat over his shoulders and tying his shoes. 

As he slips out the door, you hears his voice, so quiet that you’re almost not convinced it’s real.

“Forgive me.”

The moon shines on the dark streets, it’s gentle light almost swallowed by their neon glow. Changbin runs, heart pounding in sync with his frantic steps. 

Taking in a deep breath, he watches the city melt away again, the night air becoming colder, heavier with the fog of polluted smoke, until he’s there again. The hilltop. Looking out onto the city, he marvels at how it had once been a place full of so much intensity, maybe even love. He thinks back to the feeling of your lips on his, to the way you’d gasped his name. But now he feels nothing but emptiness. 

Maybe he deserved that emptiness. Maybe you were right, maybe he could never be more than what he was – an automated program. Maybe it was better that he’d never see you smile again, never get to watch you hum contentedly when you took a bite of food that you loved, that he’d never ever have the chance to even say that he loved you. Because he wanted to, not because he had to. 

“Changbin?” a voice calls out to him. “Is that you?”

Turning, he watches as the lithe figure of Chan comes into view, face furrowed in confusion at the sight of an android wandering alone on the streets. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, and Changbin feels himself shrink, embarrassment cutting deep into him like a knife.

“I had to leave,” he feels himself heat, drive replaying the memories of his last conversation with you. “I had to go, I didn’t know what else to do–”

Changbin clenches his jaw, body tense as he fears Chan’s response, wondering if the other man will laugh at his stupidity. 

Androids don’t get choices. 

Surprisingly, the look on his face is one of understanding. Chan motions for Changbin to follow him, the two of them heading out into the lonely night.

. . . 

The flickering lights of a warehouse come into view, casting long shadows on the ground. Changbin turns to Chan, body going rigid, and the lights cast an eerie glow on Chan’s face, the other half bathed in the darkness.

Stepping through the door, he’s surprised to find it more cosy than industrial, a clean, fresh scent overtaking his senses, one that reminded him of your apartment. It smelled like home. Something that Changbin was unsure he’d ever find. 

“Come sit here, Changbin,” Chan motions to a sofa. “Now do you want to tell me what you were doing roaming around at night like that?”

“You told me once that if I decided this life wasn’t what I wanted, that if I wanted to be more than an android, there was a way out. Is that still true?” Changbin’s words sound hollow to his own ears, and he watches Chan flinch in surprise.

“You’ve heard about the project.”

Chan bristles, reaching over to wrap an arm around Changbin, pulling him into a hug, and Changbin collapses against his shoulder. He was so tired.

“It’s not about the project,” Changbin mumbles into Chan’s shoulder, and Chan pushes him away gently. If he wasn’t mistaken, Chan could almost imagine Changbin’s eyes glimmering with tears. “It’s ___.”

Changbin can’t stop the words from spilling out, and he tells Chan everything. Everything from how cold you’ve been, to those little moments of warmth he’d come to live for, ones where your exterior of ice melted into something kinder, more gentle. He tells him about that night the two of you had shared, the one where your walls had come crashing down. And how he desperately wanted them to keep coming down for him every single day. He didn’t know whether or not he was capable of love, but he wanted it with you. And yet, you didn’t feel the same. You told him you couldn’t. 

Chan listens to it all, and without saying anything, stands up. Changbin looks at him despondently, wondering if he’d just made a fool of himself, but Chan motions to one of the doors, telling Changbin softly that he’ll be right back.

A few tense moments pass, and Changbin wonders if he’s been abandoned. But then Chan comes back, and he’s not alone. With him is another person, slightly shorter. His long, brown hair curls around the base of his neck, chubby cheeks wide in a huge heart-shaped smile. If Changbin didn’t see his hazel eyes, he would have also assumed that he was human, just like Chan.

Another android.

“Hello, I’m Jisung.”

Changbin’s eyes widen at Jisung in front of him, wondering what someone like him was doing here on the outskirts, where most people were too poor to own an android.

“Jisung used to be a domestic android,” Chan explains. “He worked for a family in New Domino that wasn’t very kind to him.”

“They took advantage of me,” Jisung has a far-off look in his eyes. “In many different ways. But that’s why I ran. Chan-hyung found me in a coffee-shop one day and brought me back to live with him.”

“How did you, I mean, how could you just leave like that? People need you,” Changbin is perplexed at the sight in front of him. 

“Do they really?” Jisung counters. “Think about it, Changbin, what do they need us for? To make their lives easier? So they can sit back and reject every sense of responsibility they have towards others? The system we have is so flawed, and there’s so many others out there like me and you who suffer because of it.”

Chan nods his head in agreement. 

“Why should you and Jisung have to pay the price for the mistakes of others? Why are you left questioning your identity, your own existence? You could be so much more in society than an end for other people’s satisfaction.”

“I make music now,” Jisung has a soft smile on his face. “Chan-hyung showed me how to use a production software, and now, I can go out to shops, walk around the neighbourhood, and use that inspiration for something beautiful. It’s not much, but it’s better than what I had to live for before.”

“Aren’t you scared, though? Of being deprogrammed, of being replaced?” Changbin can’t help the question from spilling out, his mind flashing back to how you had Hyunjin before him, and how easily you leaned into Jeongin, the employee at the clinic. Who was he compared to them?

“Life is so much more than living in fear, Changbin,” Jisung tells him. “If you just take a chance, maybe you can see that.”

And Changbin wants to believe him, to believe that he can leave this all behind, to start over again. But that would also mean leaving you behind, and that’s something he’s not sure he live with.

As if he can sense Changbin’s trepidation, Chan lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder again.

“You’re smarter than you think, Changbin. You’ll figure things out.”

You stare up at the ugly popcorn ceiling of the gallery. For being a space dedicated to showcasing the beauty of art, it paled in comparison to its inhabitants, cold concrete floors along with walls filled with cracks and peeling paint.

It has to be that way. Otherwise, would you even focus on the art?

The words bring a soft smile to your lips when you think of the last time you’d heard them. They ring true when you look at the painting in front of you – bold, dark colours interspersed with flecks of white. You get what the artist was trying to go for - the brightness of snow gleaming against a hillside, the snowflakes tiny pearls of brightness against the inky black backdrop of the night sky.

Lost in your study of the piece, you fail to notice the footsteps behind you, only turning when you feel a shadow loom over you.

“That one’s new,” Hyunjin says, coming to stand next to you. “Me and Yuna went to Interlaken last winter, you know I had to paint it.”

You bristle at his voice, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling in your chest. You’d always imagined this, meeting him again. What you’d say, what you’d do. Somehow, your dreams always ended with him taking you back. But now, that no longer felt right. 

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” you breathe out, realizing how stupid it sounds. Hyunjin literally worked there.

“I heard about the wedding. Congratulations.”

“Nothing to congratulate me for.”

“___,” Hyunjin croaks, and you stiffen at your name tumbling from his lips. “I’m sorry.”

There was a lot Hyunjin had to apologize for – leaving you suddenly, ending years of a relationship in one single moment, only for him to turn around and marry your best friend months later. A friend you no longer spoke to.

But it all seemed trivial now – it seemed like the past had consumed you, your demons chasing and chasing until they’d cornered you, leaving you with nowhere to run, no one to to turn to.

You’d had Changbin, and now he was gone. And you were alone, like you were always mean to be.

Your lips purse into a straight line, giving no indication that you accept Hyunjin’s apology.

“___ please, I know I can’t ask you to forgive me for what I did. I know it’s unforgivable. But please, you have to move on. You deserve to be loved. To have love.”

You’re unsure how much Hyunjin knows about you, or even Changbin, but the bitter regret in the his voice tells you that you weren’t the only one with wounds who’d been festering for longer than they should’ve.

“It feels like I’m trapped,” you finally admit out loud. “I’m trapped and there’s this lead weight that’s crushing me, and I can’t think, I can’t feel, I can’t even breathe— god, I just want to breathe, Hyun. And I lost the one person that was my chance to live again.” The words come out as sobs, Hyunjin raising a concerned eyebrow, and you shake your head, dismissing his suspicions.

“You care about him. The android.”

“Don’t call him that. He has a name.” 

You bite your tongue at the grating response, mouth filling with the taste of blood. Changbin’s words from that night echo in your brain – I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.

He wasn’t. 

Hyunjin sees the heat rush to your face when you mention him, the way your entire being changes – your once despondent body coming alive with emotion. And he knows that what you felt for him will never compare to now. Fate had steered you on opposite courses, your destiny intertwined with Changbin’s, his with Yuna’s. 

“You know what you have to do then,” are his last words to you before you hear his boots tap against the cold concrete, walking away.

. . . .

The abandoned railway station lay forgotten at the edge of the city, a silent witness to years of decay. The iron tracks were tangled in weeds, and the once-bustling platform was now a graveyard of rusted metal and cracked concrete. The setting sun cast long, melancholic shadows, painting the scene in shades of orange and gray.

Changbin feels the cold metal of the bench against his back, and cards his fingers through his hair. He wonders if the disheveled strands, or the stains and threabare seams of his clothes, make him look more real. More human. 

Holding the flyer in his hands, he stares at the face on it, in disbelief that it was once his face. So composed, so put together. So much had changed since then.

Finding Jisung and Chan had been a blessing, but it wasn’t enough. The emptiness remained, filled with thoughts of you, and he wonders if he’ll ever see you again. Whether you even thought of him. 

The hum of an approaching vehicle broke the oppressive silence. Changbin’s head snapped up, his eyes widening as he saw headlights cutting through the dusk. 

They’d found him. He had to run.

Miroh Labs had always been a prison – your prison. A cold, glowing fortress against the backdrop of New Domino, a place once full of so much promise. The place where you thought you’d prove yourself. But now it was time to let it go. 

Chan is waiting for you at the entrance, lips parted in surprise when he sees you approaching. You don’t blame him for thinking that you’d bail. The plan had come together in mere hours, chaos unfolding the moment you’d returned to your apartment, going through every paper, every file as to how you could set your plan in motion.

Somehow, Chan seemed like a person you could trust. You briefly remember Changbin mentioning how Chan had been the first one to see him, shocked at how many of the little details about his presence you’d actually committed to memory.

It scared you, putting your heart and life on the line like this. But it had to be worth it – for the chance to live again, to love again.

“You ready for this?” Chan asked, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to your mess of emotions. His eyes glinted curiously in against the backdrop of darkness. voice steady and reassuring.

You nodded, full of determination. It was now or never.

“I am. I’ll take care of the security systems. You get to the servers.”

Chan gives a quick nod, before disappearing into the building.

You freeze, realizing you should have asked Chan if he knew anything about Changbin, where he was, what he was doing. You just had to hope this worked, and that you would be able to later. That was the only way.

The maze of the building is one you slip through easily, the long, dark hallways familiar to you from years of roaming around. You knew every door, where every secret was hidden. And how to shut it all down.

Fingers dancing across the keypad, you find the one you’re looking for. Booting up the system, the lights from the screens bathe the room in an eerie glow, and you begin to type.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered to yourself, eyes darting between the screen and the shadows outside. “Almost there…”

Your phone pings to life with a text — shoulders sagging with relief when you see it’s from Chan.

At the servers. Starting data extraction now.

You shoot a reply back quickly – two mins and i’ll initiate the shutdown sequence.

The two minutes pass by in agony, heart pounding out of your chest at the feeling that you could be caught at any time, that this could end.

The lab’s lights began to flicker and dim, casting an eerie glow over the deserted corridors. It worked.

You tiptoe silently out of the room, breaking into a run when you hear the sirens. You run and you run until you’re far enough away, Chan waiting for you a few blocks away.

“We did it,” he smiles, teeth glinting in the moonlight. “We got what we needed.”

He pauses when he sees you tremble, sobs wracking your entire body. You don’t know why the tears started, but they refused to stop when you think about everything – about how you’d just destroyed your family’s entire future, about how you were free, about Changbin.

His name slips from your lips without even thinking, and Chan freezes. 

You hold your breath momentarily, waiting for the bad news to come. But all Chan does is let out a deep sigh of relief, the corners of his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Come with me.”

When Changbin wakes, it’s like the first time all over again. Senses assaulted by a bright light, fear strikes him in the worst way possible. How long had it been since he powered down? Weeks? Months? Had he been captured? Was this the end?

His systems go haywire with the possibilities, until he feels something. A breeze, ruffling his hair. He was outside. 

The abandoned train station materializes amidst the fog of his muddled senses, his fingertips coming away with rust when he brushes them against the old, dilapidated bench. Relief washes over him. He was okay. He’d live another day.

The crunching of gravel startles him from his reverie, and he feels someone plop down next to him on the bench.

Turning to meet his company, he nearly short-circuits when he sees you, face illuminated by the sun’s rays. You’re smiling. At him. 

Changbin tries to form a coherent thought, but everything is jumbled and clunky. The sun. The air. You. You. You.

You offer him something, and he pales when he sees it, an earbud extended to him.

“I need you to listen to something,” you say softly, and his hands shake as he accepts it, watching you hit play.

The first few melodious notes ring in his ears, and a shiver goes down his spine when he realizes what you’d chosen to show him.

Like a streetlight, like a streetlight

At the end of a lonely day, standing vacantly

In the middle of the lonely night, I try my best to smile brightly

It was the song he’d been working on with Jisung and Chan, the first thing he’d had of his own. The first step he’d taken to becoming himself, to becoming just Changbin. He closes his eyes, losing himself to the music, a tear slipping out at the last few notes, when he feels the weight of your head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Changbin,” you sigh, voice wavering, whisper so low he can barely hear it among the reverberations of the final note.

“I want to fix this,” you say again, more resolutely this time, turning so his forehead meets yours. And you feel the dam break, tears flooding both of you as you collapse against each other.

“Wherever you’re going, I want to come with you. I want to show you that you’re more than enough. Because you showed me the same. Please tell me it’s not too late.”

Changbin nods, his tears mingling with a smile of hope. 

“The song. It’s for you. It’s for us. For what we had and what we can still have. I can prove it to you.”

“You don’t need to prove anything, Changbin. You’ve done enough.”

And he had. Somehow, despite having no heart of his own, he’d managed to re-start yours, to show you that you didn’t have to live in the city’s shadows, under the iron grip of your past. That you could be more.

Hope fills your chest – it’s bright and vivid, the force of your love for Changbin knocking you back like a supernova.

Changbin’s fingers brush away the tears on your cheek, shining in the sunlight, and his gaze drops to your lips. You don’t know who leans in first, the next thing you feel being the soft press of his lips to yours. The skin is slightly chapped, but you melt into his touch anyway.

Soon the kiss becomes heated, the roughness of Changbin’s jeans dragging against your thighs as you push yourself onto his lap, prodding the seam of his lips with your tongue. 

Here with Changbin, you realize you’d never really been weak at all. Neither of you had. Not like the world saw both of you. 

Resonance. The ability of an object to match another’s frequency – the ability that you and Changbin now possessed to know whatever the world threw at you, wherever it took you next, you’d come out of it choosing each other every time.  

a/n pt. 2: they are totally fucking after this btw (i don't make the rules)! all jokes aside, I'm so sorry if this sucks. I genuinely haven't written anything plot driven in over 8 months so I know there was a lot more I could have done and improved on. If you read this, thank you for giving it (and me) a chance. As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

tagging: @jellyleggz