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Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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HIIII, i had the sudden urge to draw one of the lers as a lee mwehehee, and who better than the prince that wouldn't let anyone touch him bc ofc, poor people germs /JJJ
To him everyone's poor except him BWAHAHA i love Castiel sm
I love this fic so much ngl Word count is 1541!! Chubby user! And my oc Leon! (Warning!! Tickles, and fluff!!)
Leon had a reputation for being in charge of any room he walked intoâconfident posture, sharp eyes, the kind of guy who always seemed one step ahead. But anyone who knew him well also knew there was another side to him: a mischievous, playful streak that came out at the worst (or best) possible moments.
y/n, on the other hand, thrived on pushing buttonsâespecially his.
âYouâre not as intimidating as you think,â they said, lounging across the couch, arms folded with a smug grin. âHonestly, I think you just pretend to be in control.â
Leon raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. âIs that so?â
âYep,â y/n said, popping the âpâ with extra emphasis. âAll talk.â
There was a brief pauseâjust long enough for y/n to realize they mightâve gone a little too far.
Leon crossed the room slowly, deliberately. âYou know,â he said, voice calm but laced with amusement, âyou really should learn when to quit.â
y/n sat up straighter, trying to maintain their defiant expression. âOr what?â
That was all the invitation he needed.
In one quick motion, Leon lunged forward, grabbing them by the sides. âOr this,â he said simply.
y/nâs composure shattered instantly. âHEYânoâLeonâ!â they burst into laughter as he started tickling them mercilessly. They twisted and squirmed, trying to escape, but he had them pinned with ease.
âStill think Iâm all talk?â he asked, barely holding back a grin.
âIâHAHAâSTOPâNOâ!â y/n kicked their legs uselessly, laughing so hard they could barely breathe. âYouâreâcheatingâ!â
âCheating?â Leon scoffed lightly. âThis is called proving a point.â
They tried to grab his wrists, but every time they got close, he shifted just enough to keep them off balance. âLeonâpleaseâokay, okayâI take it back!â
âHmm.â He slowed for a second, watching them carefully. âYou take it back?â
âYes!â they gasped, still giggling. âYouâreâughâyouâre very in control, okay?!â
He finally let up, stepping back with a satisfied look.
y/n immediately flopped onto the couch, catching their breath, hair a mess and face flushed from laughing. âYouâre the worst,â they muttered, though a smile tugged at their lips.
Leon shrugged, completely unbothered. âAnd yet, you keep testing me.â
They glanced at him, eyes narrowing slightlyâalready recovering. âOh, donât worry,â they said, a spark of mischief returning. âNext time, Iâll win.â
Leon smirked. âIâm counting on it.â
Leon shouldâve known better than to think one round was enough.
y/n recovered fast.
Too fast.
By the time he turned back from grabbing a glass of water, they were already sitting upright again, arms crossed over their soft middle, chin tilted up with that same stubborn, bratty look.
âYouâre feeling confident now, huh?â Leon said, watching them carefully.
y/n huffed, pushing a strand of hair out of their face. âYou caught me off guard. That doesnât count.â
âIt definitely counts.â
âNope,â they shot back, shifting their weight on the couch. The cushions dipped slightly under them as they repositioned themself, settling in like they had all the time in the world. âA real win would be if I knew it was coming and you still got me.â
Leon let out a quiet, amused breath. âSo now youâre setting the rules?â
âSomeone has to,â they said. âOtherwise you just go around attacking unsuspecting, defenseless people.â
âDefenseless?â he repeated, glancing at them with a raised brow.
y/n grinned. âObviously.â
He took a slow step closer. âYouâve been provoking me for the last ten minutes.â
âAnd?â they said, spreading their arms slightly in mock innocence, the fabric of their shirt bunching a little. âThatâs not a crime.â
âIt might be,â Leon said, voice low with amusement. âAt the very least, itâs a bad idea.â
They leaned back again, relaxedâtoo relaxed. âIâm not worried.â
There was a beat of silence.
Then Leon moved.
This time, y/n was ready.
âNOPEâ!â they yelped, twisting away just as his hands reached for their sides. They scrambled across the couch, nearly slipping as they tried to put distance between them, laughter already bubbling up before he even touched them.
âOh, so now you run?â Leon said, circling the couch.
âIâm strategizing,â they shot back, though they were already grinning.
âLooks a lot like running.â
âShut up!â
He lunged again, and this time they didnât make it far. He caught their wrist and gently but firmly pulled them back toward him. y/n let out a startled laugh as they lost their balance and landed back against the cushions, the couch dipping under the movement.
âGot you,â he said.
âLeonâdonât youâ!â
Too late.
The second his fingers found their sides again, y/n burst into laughter, louder than before. âNOâNOâWAITâ!â They tried to curl in on themself, instinctively pulling their arms down to protect their middle, but that only made it easier for him to keep them pinned in place.
âYou said youâd be ready,â Leon reminded them.
âI LIEDâHAHAâ!â
Their laughter filled the room, bright and uncontrollable. They squirmed, trying to twist away, but every movement just made them sink further into the couch. âYouâreâso annoyingâstopâ!â
âDoesnât sound like you want me to stop,â he teased.
âI DOâ!â they insisted, though they were laughing too hard for it to sound convincing.
Leon adjusted his grip slightly, making sure they couldnât slip away this time. âStill think youâre winning?â
y/n shook their head quickly, cheeks flushed, breathless. âNoânoâokayâyou winâagainâ!â
âAgain?â he said, smirking. âSo you admit there was a first time?â
They groaned between laughs. âDonâtâpush itâ!â
He slowed just enough to give them a break, watching as they tried to catch their breath. Their shoulders rose and fell quickly, and they leaned back into the cushions, still giggling under their breath.
âYouâre impossible,â they muttered, though there was no real bite to it.
âAnd you,â Leon said, stepping back and crossing his arms, âare predictable.â
y/n narrowed their eyes at himâbut the spark was already back.
âOh, you think so?â they said.
âI know so.â
They shifted again, sitting up and planting their feet firmly on the floor this time, clearly thinking ahead. âOkay. New rule.â
Leon sighed, already bracing himself. âHere we go.â
âNo grabbing me unless I agree to it.â
âThat defeats the entire point.â
âExactly,â they said sweetly.
He shook his head. âNot happening.â
y/n grinned. âThen I guess Iâll just have to make sure you canât catch me.â
Leonâs expression sharpened slightly, that same confident look returning. âYouâre welcome to try.â
There was a pauseâboth of them watching each other now.
Then y/n bolted off the couch.
Leon laughed under his breath and followed.
The game was definitely not over.
Leon caught them before they made it halfway down the hall.
âNice try,â he said, grabbing them around the waist and pulling them back.
y/n yelped, immediately dissolving into laughter again as they triedâunsuccessfullyâto pry his hands off. âNoâLeonâthis is unfairâ!â
âYou made the rules,â he reminded them, steering them back toward the couch despite their protests.
âI changed the rules!â they shot back, though it came out between giggles.
âToo late.â
He dropped back onto the couch with them, the cushions dipping under their combined weight as they landed beside him in a heap of laughter. For a second, they tried to scramble away againâbut they were already worn out, their movements slower now, their energy spent.
âOkayâokayâIâm done,â they said breathlessly, holding up their hands in surrender. âYou win. Twice. Happy?â
Leon leaned back slightly, watching them with a satisfied expression. âVery.â
y/n huffed, crossing their arms over their middle and pouting, their cheeks still flushed. âYouâre so annoying.â
âAnd yet,â he said, nudging them lightly, âyou started it.â
They shot him a look, but it didnât last long. The exhaustionâand the leftover laughterâsoftened it quickly. After a moment, they let themself relax, leaning sideways until they bumped against him.
There was a brief pause.
Then, without making a big deal of it, Leon shifted just enough to let them settle comfortably against his side.
y/n didnât protest.
They let out a quiet sigh, the earlier chaos fading into something calmer. One of their hands rested absentmindedly on their stomach as they got comfortable, their breathing finally evening out.
Leon glanced down at them, a hint of that playful expression still lingering.
âWhat?â they said, catching the look.
âNothing,â he replied.
They narrowed their eyes slightly. âYouâre planning something.â
âMaybe.â
âLeonâdonâtââ
He gently pressed his hand against their tummy and gave it a light, playful squish.
y/n immediately reacted, their pout deepening as they looked up at him. âHey!â
âWhat?â he said innocently. âIâm not tickling you.â
âThatâs still rude,â they muttered, though there was no real annoyance behind it.
He did it againâjust a small, teasing squeeze.
âLeon,â they complained, shifting slightly but not moving away. âI just lost twice. Have some respect.â
He huffed out a quiet laugh. âYouâll survive.â
They crossed their arms again, pouting more dramatically this timeâbut they leaned into him anyway, clearly not going anywhere.
âNext time,â they said, voice softer now, âIâm winning.â
Leon smirked, resting back into the couch. âSure you are.â
y/n nudged him weakly in response, but within minutes, the playful tension faded completely. The room grew quiet, the earlier laughter replaced with a comfortable calm as they stayed tucked against him, still faintly poutingâbut not enough to pull away.
You wake up to the kind of quiet winter morning where the world feels soft. The window is fogged, the snow outside glows pale gold, and youâre still wrapped in your blanket like a sleepy burrito whenâ
knock knock
Then the door opens anyway.
âY/n? You alive?â
Juicyâs voice. Way too cheerful for the hour.
You peek over your blanket, and there he is: snow in his hair, jacket half-zipped, grin already causing trouble.
You barely manage a sleepy, âBarely,â before he flops next to you, pressing all his cold, snow-soaked outerwear against your warm blanket cocoon.
âJUIâ thatâs cold!â
He just buries his face into your shoulder. âGood morning.â
Somehow⊠you donât push him away.
His arm ends up around your waist. His thumb traces lazy circles on your hip. Your breathing syncs without you even noticing.
Itâs warm. And slow. And stupidly perfect.
Until he suddenly sits up and goes:
âPark. Snow. Letâs go.â
You blink. âYou literally canât sit still, can you?â
He beams, smug. âYou like that about me.â
âŠOkay, maybe you do.
---
You barely step into the park before Juicy scoops up a handful of snow.
He looks you dead in the eyes.
âDonât youââ
He throws it directly at your face.
The betrayal.
âOh, itâs on.â
Chaos.
Pure chaos.
Snowballs fly everywhere as you duck behind trees, slip on icy patches, and scream-laugh threats that the dog walkers probably overheard and questioned the state of your relationship.
Juicy has killer aim.
You have unfair speed.
Both of you have the emotional maturity of toddlers with too much sugar.
At some point he lunges and catches you around the waist, dragging you down into a soft pile of snow. You shove snow down his jacket.
He lets out a sound youâre 90% sure is illegal.
âYou menaceâ!â
His revenge?
Tickling.
âJuicyâNOââ
Too late.
Youâre a giggling mess in the snow, both of you breathless, faces flushed pink, hair full of flakes. He laughs so hard he has to lean over you, and thenâthereâs this moment.
This soft, quiet moment where he just⊠looks at you.
Like heâs memorizing the whole picture.
You inhale.
He exhales your name.
And thenâ
âAHEM.â
âRight! Snow. We were fighting. Fighting, yes.â
---
After thawing indoors for all of five seconds, Juicy announces:
âWeâre baking.â
Youâre suspicious. He looks thrilled.
You guide him through mixing dough, but heâs a menaceâstealing handfuls of sugar, poking your cheek when youâre focused, trying to juggle eggs like some circus clown who absolutely will get banned.
Two grown adults sliding around like penguins with no sense of self-preservation.
You duck behind the fridge door.
He corners you.
You throw flour. Miss.
He throws flour. Doesnât miss.
Youâre both laughing so hard your stomach hurts.
At one point he catches you with one arm around your waist, the other steadying himself on the counter. Youâre both breathless, covered in white, smiling like idiots.
âYou look like a powdered donut,â he says softly.
âYou look like a whole bakery exploded on you.â
He leans his forehead to yours.
âWorth it.â
---
Cleanup happens⊠eventually.
Mostly because you force him.
He sweeps terribly.
You correct him.
He pokes your hip in retaliation.
You smack him with a dishtowel.
He stumbles into a patch of flour and almost eats the floor.
You catch his hoodie and steady him.
He freezes.
Then smirks.
âMy hero.â
Your face? Warm.
His face? Warm.
Kitchen? Still a disaster.
The cookies finally go in the oven.
While they bake, you collapse onto the couch. Juicy drapes an arm behind you, trying to be casual, but the second your head rests on his shoulder he wraps you up fully, no hesitation.
His hoodie smells like vanilla.
His fingers trace soft lines on your arm.
Your legs tangle together under the blanket.
âYou tired?â he whispers.
âA little.â
âWe should nap.â
âWe still have cookies in the oven.â
âFive minutes wonât hurt.â
Neither of you move until the timer goes off.
In the kitchen, you sit on the counter while the cookies cool. Juicy stands between your knees, hands warm on your thighs, eyes soft in that way that makes your heart misbehave.
âToday was good,â he says quietly.
âYeah?â
âYeah. You make everything feel⊠lighter.â
You bump your forehead to his.
âYou make everything louder.â
He laughs softly.
But then his voice sinks low.
Hopeful. Warm. Honest.
âI really want more days like this.â
You smile.
âI do too.â
---
OMG I LOVE THIS SM 806 WORDS!!! :D
I have tiktok, u should add me!! It's "wilbur_el_soot" !!!
A/N: I've said this on like, three separate fics, but THIS is truly the longest one. It's just under 10k LMAO. I hope y'all have time to spare if you're kind enough to read this :') I wanted to challenge myself and write a scene that 99% wouldn't happen in canon whilst keeping the characters accurate, and honestly I really really enjoyed it! I like to think they're not totally mischaracterised because these characters are my babies auughhhhh.
Also it's my birthday! My first fic being 22 years old omg...dare i say it's a bit of a birthday gift to myself hehehe.
I will preemptively say, Myung-gi has a panic attack in this and I tried to write it as accurate as possible, if that kinda thing triggers you then here's your warning :) I've had my fair share so I hope I wrote the scene somewhat accurately!
Summary: Myung-gi has an anxiety attack and can't calm himself down no matter what he tries. Luckily, his 'bestest friends in the whole wide world' are there to help! But not until he asks for it ;)
It had been a day since Thanos and Nam-gyu had last destroyed Myung-gi withâŠwell, whatever that was. Myung-gi had far too much pride to admit first-hand the details, but the most important thing was that theyâd seemed to have gotten it out of their system. Maybe he was free now. Not having to stress about fingers in his sides or Thanosâ stupid face in his belly.
God, it was so embarrassing. He was a grown man, for gods sake! Once a highly respected crypto trader with a successful YouTube channel watched by millions, and now reduced to some kind of chew toy for a psychopath rapper and his psychopath friend.
âAt least they arenât hurting meâ he thought to himself whilst in line for whatever sad rations the guards were generously giving out today. âThatâs something, right?â
-------------------
He sat at his bunk, the two tormentors luckily far away from him- on the other side of the dorm, focused on whatever the fuck people like them were interested in.
They werenât irritating him anymore; Which was a bonus- Heâd had quite enough of them for at least a year. If he ever got out of here alive, heâd make sure to do whatever it took to block out the memory of them looming over him, chuckling and wiggling their fingers. Thanos had to have social media, right? Being so famous? Well, first things first, heâd be blocked on everything. Heâd no doubt come looking for âhisâ money and Myung-gi didnât think he could bear interacting with either of those idiots outside the games, where there were no guards or cameras or ârulesâ.
He watched as Thanos and Nam-gyu laughed about something on the steps opposite, chatting away with smiles on their faces, probably high out their minds. Every so often Thanos made some stupid DJ motion and Nam-gyu would bop his head like the action was actually producing sound. For once, in what felt like forever, they werenât even looking at him.
Whatever though. Why would he care about those psychopaths? It wasnât like he was part of their fucked-up team. All theyâd left him with was the ache in his ribs, the soreness of his throat from laughing so hard- it ultimately didnât matter.
No, he couldnât care less about them. As long as they werenât pestering him he was absolutely fine with the space- they could laugh and giggle about whatever the fuck they wanted to, they could stumble around like morons, It had nothing to do with him whatsoever.
However⊠he felt a strange, unfamiliar coil in his chest.
Lee Myung-gi was used to being alone. Heâd been on the run for 6 months after Dalmatian fell through, deleted all his contacts and essentially dropped off the face of the Earth (even Jun-hee had said she thought he died), so spending time with his own thoughts was nothing new.
But this was different. He wasnât sure what to name this feeling, this coil that continued to tighten behind his sternum. Fear, maybe? No, heâd felt that in the death games and this certainly wasnât fear. Anger? Maybe a bit, but it still didnât feel like the correct word.
It hit him suddenly as his skin prickled and his breathing shallowed- this wasnât fear, or anger, or even standard stress- this was anxiety.
And it was setting hard.
Within seconds he felt dizzy, his skin feeling two sizes too small. His hands shook and he rubbed at his chest with the heel of his palm, trying to regulate his rapidly-quickening breathing. He wrung his hands between each other, tugging at his fingers and then squeezing them together in an attempt to snap himself out of it. What the hell was wrong with him? He was fine a few minutes ago, how could he be spiralling so hard and so severely now?
There was no danger around. In a way, the dorm was actually quite peaceful right now- no shouting or fighting or druggies breathing down his neck.
But no matter how hard he tried to rationalise it, how hard he tried to force his traitorous brain into understanding, the anxiety grew and grew until it overshadowed any other thought. Suddenly, the dorm didnât seem as peaceful. Suddenly, his senses were highly aware of every mumble and cough and shuffle.
He just had to get somewhere private. The bathrooms were usually fairly quiet around this time- that was his best bet right now. He could ride it out in there until whatever the fuck was happening to him passed. Yeah, that sounded good.
His legs shook as he swung them off his bunk. The floor looked like it was coming toward him, and when he raised his head he could hardly make out the bunks on the other side of the dorm from how much his vision swam.
Myung-gi crossed his arms firmly across his chest, squeezing himself tight in an effort to self-soothe. He could hardly think straight, cold sweat sticking his player uniform to his frame. âJust one step at a timeâ he thought.
âThis wonât last forever. Just one step at a timeâ
-----------------------------------
He stumbled into the (thankfully empty) bathroom, trying to take a full breath as he approached the sink and splashed himself with cold water. The icy shock made him gasp and he braced himself on the ceramic, attempting to focus on the droplets running down the bridge of his nose and cheekbones.
It helped for maybe half a second before the anxiety barrelled right back. Myung-gi scrubbed at his face with both hands, shoulders shaking like his skeleton was trying to break free. He pushed his palms down hard and patterns bloomed behind his eyelids.
A low groan escaped him and he shook out his wrists, bounced on his heels for a second, started pacing up and down. His mind wouldnât shut up, forcing images of him being mowed down in the next game, or worse- Jun-hee, pregnant with his child and only here because of him, being shot by a guard.
What if the next game was something he couldnât win? What if it was luck-based opposed to skill? Or something like the pentathlon where he had to rely on a team? Maybe something to do with brute strength? He wouldnât be able to win against one of the burlier players- he wasnât exactly weak himself, but there was always a bigger fish.
Thought after thought raced through his head at breakneck speed, never giving him a chance to figure out a solution of one potential issue before hitting him with a scarier, less-solvable potential issue.
The last time heâd felt pure animal anxiety like this was when Dalmatian crashed, and even then at least he had the relief of other options. What options did he have in here? There was no escape, no backing out or taking a break. The next game was coming and he would have to participate.
âFuck, fuck, fuckâŠâ he muttered as he ran his hands through his hair. He mustâve paced the length of the bathroom at least a dozen times by now, mustâve done the whole âwhat can you see, touch, hearâ routine fifty. Nothing was working.
Nothing was fucking wor-
âWell shit, MG coinâ
His heart dropped. No. No no no.
How did they always know where to find him?
He was back at the sink now, grasping the sides and near-hyperventilating. He couldnât move. Not even when he heard footsteps approaching.
âOi. You deaf now or what?â Thanos.
âSpeak when youâre spoken to, MG coinâ Nam-gyu.
He couldnât. He couldnât speak, couldnât move, couldnât do anything but take in shuddering gasps. The anxiety attack was at its peak now. All he could think of was the paralysing fear of standing at the opposite end of a Guardâs gun.
He hardly even noticed when walls of green appeared on either side of him, Thanos and Nam-gyu boxing him in.
âCoooooiiinâ Came the lazy drawl of Player 230. No response. He snorted and poked Myung-gi roughly on the arm. âAnyone home, man?â
âYou need to work on your people skills. What kind of greeting is this?â Nam-gyu cocked his head. They were both taller than him, especially now that he was hunched over, head between his arms, staring downwards. He couldnât even register their presence though. Couldnât register anything right now.
Myung-gi did nothing but shake, holding on white-knuckled to the sink. His breathing was audible, fast and almost painful sounding. The two bullies looked at him, and then at each other, and then at him again.
There was a beat of silence. Thanos poked him a second time, harder. No response but more strained breathing. More trembling.
Thanos looked over Myung-giâs head at Nam-gyu and made a face- a sort of furrowed brow, unsure expression that Nam-gyu just narrowed his eyes at, as if to say âThe fuck is up with him?â.
âYou think heâs having a stroke or something?â
Thanos scoffed.
âThe fuck is your problem, coin?â
Nam-gyu snorted and he gave a half-smirk, like he couldnât quite believe the audacity of Myung-gi to justâŠblock them out.
He used a heavy hand to nudge MGâs shoulder, who didnât budge given that he had such a chokehold on the pedestal in front of him. âWhy are you being so boring? I swear, stop ignoring us or Iâll slap you out of itâ
He was expecting a nasty response right back, some kind of flippant âGet lostâ. But there was nothing. No comment, no biting remark, not even a dirty look.
Nam-gyu hovered uncertainly for a few seconds. The way Myung-gi was justâŠstanding there, quivering and breathing heavy and being totally unresponsive was becoming unsettling.
âHey. Prickâ
Still nothing.
âMG coinâ Thanos crossed his ankles and leant on the wall. âYouâre freakinâ us out, manâ
Myung-gi broke his silent streak with a noise between a cough and a sob. 230 and 124âs heads snapped up to meet each otherâs gaze. Both men, for once, were speechless. A small smirk was on Thanosâ face but it seemed more bafflement than cruelty. Nam-gyu fiddled with a loose hair, brushing it behind his ears and tilting his head down at the conman, completely unaware.
âAre you...crying?â He sounded like he was trying not to laugh. âIs that was this?â
âHe is! Boyâs fucking crying!â Thanosâ face was that of a man in sheer disbelief. He brought a hand up to the collar of his player jacket, pulling it up over his mouth to hide a shocked grin. It wasnât for Myung-giâs benefit- the man wasnât even looking at him. Thanos could be breakdancing behind him and heâd be none the wiser, staring his scammy eyes into the sink. It was more out of complete incredulity that MG coin was standing here, crying, alone in the bathroom.
Oh, how heâd have loved to have seen him like this when dalmatian had first went to shit. It wouldnât have gotten his Won back, but it wouldâve made him feel just a bit better to see the scammer crying into his shirt, all alone. Hell, heâd probably have paid what little won he had left to experience it.
Nam-gyu was grinning broadly, looking MG up and down, nudging his shoulder against 333 in a faux good-natured display. âCâmon then, the amazing Myung-gi of MG coin! Whatâs got you bawling like a baby, huh?â
The bathroom filled with nasty laughter, Thanos and Nam-gyu chuckling and cackling. When it died down, replaced by small after-giggles, they were expecting Myung-gi to have gotten himself together. For their taunting to have given him a reason to wipe his eyes, stand himself tall, snap out of whatever pathetic depressive episode he was going through.
Constantly bored, both stared down at him with eager eyes, ready for another 2-against-1 (That they were sure to win, knowing his newfound weakness).
But still, nothing. It was gettingâŠweird, now. The atmosphere felt fuzzy, almost unnatural, which was saying something in a place like this. The bathroom was quiet, save for the ragged breathing of Myung-gi. They hated the unresponsiveness, hated not getting a rise out of him.
Thanos glared at Nam-gyu, making an obnoxious tut noise. Nam-gyu shrugged back at him. Myung-gi was supposed to be spitting venom at them, shouting and embarrassing himself like usual. The fuck was going on?
 The purple-haired man cast his gaze down at Myung-gi, his face painted in that exaggerated sneering look he wore so well. He very slowly bent his knees, bracing his hands on them and tilting his head upwards to see the scammerâs face. He could see the dissociation clear as day. The absent, wide-eyed staring at nothing.
His eyebrows raised as he stood himself back upright, slow as he had when heâd bent down. He met Nam-gyuâs gaze. Player 124 narrowed his eyes further.
Curious, he dropped into a semi-crouch, bracing himself on his knees similarly to how Thanos had done before straightening up and barking out a delighted laugh.
âHoly shit! Whatâs wrong with his face? He looks like heâs seen a ghostâ
A shuddering gasp wracked Myung-giâs frame.
ââŠDonât feel goodâŠâ
His voice came out barely audible, small and wavering. Neither 230 or 124 had actually heard the words- just that heâd said something.
Thanos was standing with his arms crossed now, head cocked to the side, not taking his eyes off the younger man. âWassat, MG coin?â he lilted, grin widening.
âI DONâT FEEL GOOD!â
The words came out so loud and sharp that Nam-gyu and Thanos visibly jumped, Nam-gyu taking a reflexive step back, Thanosâ shoulders jolting as he flinched hard. Their grins dropped.
âI donât- I donât fucking know whatâs wrong!â Myung-gi was still grasping the sink but now jolting his head back and forth between the two, who just stared wide-eyed. He was looking through them, still deep in the anxiety-induced dissociation. âI canât fucking breathe and- and everythingâs just- AGH!â
He pushed away from the sink and his hands flew to his hair, running through it again and again in frantic bursts. He wanted to cry but no tears came, despite his voice cracking. His feet moved without purpose, pacing a few feet before spinning back and doing it all again. âFuck fuck FUCK!â
Thanosâ eyes followed as he paced, ringed fingers twiddling at his zip. Nam-gyu was thumbing awkwardly at his bottom lip, trying to look busy. Neither knew what to do, what to say. Seeing Myung-gi genuinely distressed, sweating and shaking like he was going through withdrawals, voice cracking and scrubbing at his face, was something they werenât prepared for. He was usually so calm and composed. Seeing him lose his absolute shit for real?
It wasnât fun. Wasnât satisfying or scratching any kind of itch for them. It wasnât the entertaining irritation or anger that they usually invoked in him. Right now he wasnât MG coin, successful youtuber and witty con artist- he was just a man having a human moment.
Myung-gi made a choked keening noise from the back of his throat like he was trying to expel his anxiety through noise alone and continued pacing. Up, down, up, down. Neither of the druggies looked away, morbidly transfixed.
Thanos, despite what many may have thought, was actually rather emotionally intelligent. Manipulative, sure, but if anything that just proved the fact; he wouldnât be able to play into otherâs thoughts and feelings if he was as dumb as a rock.
He may have not been in touch with his own emotions, being high out of his mind most of the time, but that was a conscious choice. Making it into fame didnât come without his own spirals, dependencies, forced to learn how to calm down jittery backup dancers or even the occasional rival (if he thought they werenât much of a threat, that is). This, on top of dealing with drunken breakdowns or bad drug experiences over the years, had developed him a sharpened set of skills.
A set of skills that begrudgingly, heâd have to break out right there in the bathroom. For a man he couldnât stand.
The ex-rapper exhaled through his nose and lolled his head back, eyes closing like he was about to take on a strenuous chore. He waited for Myung-gi to hit the pedestal, turn back and pace those few same feet, and stepped himself into his path. As soon as Myung-gi turned back around, still mumbling rapidly to himself with his palms over his face, Thanos was right there in front of him.
âIâm going to die, Iâm going to fucking die- What have I done, oh my g- Ah!â Myung-gi gasped suddenly, pacing forced to come to a halt. His hands flew down and he looked up with huge, terrified eyes.
Two hands had grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. The touch was unexpected, not gentle but not rough either- just absolute.
The height difference between him and Thanos was pretty significant and he had to tilt his head upwards when the purple-haired man started talking.
âMG coinâ Thanos spoke slowly, clearly, face devoid of any usual mischief. He dropped his head and held Myung-giâs gaze and squeezed his fingers just once, forcing his attention. âYouâre freaking out man. Freaking us out, freaking yourself out. You gotta breathe, boyâ He could feel the youtuber trembling, the tremors running through his hands.
Nam-gyu hadnât said a word, hand still hovering by his lips, darting his focus between both men. Usually heâd scoff at something like this, especially with Lee Myung-gi involved. But for once he was on the side ofâŠwell, not empathy. He didnât really do empathy.
Something vaguely similar, perhaps.
Regardless, he trusted Thanos knew what he was doing and shit would go back to normal. (as normal as things could be, anyway).
âYou donât get it- you donât fucking get itâ Myung-gi placed his palms flat on Thanosâ chest and pushed him away; Thanos simply wrapped a hand round his wrist and pulled him back, resuming his hold on his shoulders with a âAh-ah, get back hereâ.
âFucking LET GO OF ME!â The younger man cried, trying to push him away again but Thanos had him in an unbreakable grip now. âHow the fuck would you know anything? Iâve seen youâ he shot a glare toward Nam-gyu, âand you!â he directed himself back toward Thanos, âpopping those fucking pills. Yeah, youâre not slick. Everyone here knows youâre nothing but washed-up junkie FREAKS!â
Thanos would be lying if he said he wanted to do anything else but throw Myung-gi to the floor and let loose on him right then. Those words cut deep. Heâd heard similar after the forgotten lyrics incident during rap battlegrounds, fans and haters alike blaming his fumble on drug use.
But he was no stranger to anxiety attacks, those horrible chest-tightening things that fogged the brain and reduced a person to their most primal survival instincts. Myung-gi didnât know what he was saying, not really. He was just functioning on autopilot, brain trying to stabilise itself any way it knew how.
âYouâre lucky Iâm an understanding typâa guy, Coinâ he said, words still slow and enunciated like he were talking to a child. âThat shit you just said? Man, if you werenât such a mess right now, thatâd really have pissed me offâ
Nam-gyu held his breath. Thanos wasnât about to lose his temper, surely? Not right now? Not that heâd mind, if anything itâd be entertaining, but stillâŠ
But his concerns were for nothing as Thanos continued with âWe ainât gonna get you better if you donât work with meâ
He spoke with such rare sincerity that Myung-gi stopped pushing, hands just resting on Thanosâ chest. It was more the confusion, than anything else. Intrigue, perhaps. Despite the spiralling, even his anxiety-riddled brain realised that Thanos was genuinely trying to help himâŠand that was weird.
Thanos didnât give him any chance to dwell. He had his attention and he was going to use it before Myung-gi fucked himself up again.
âJust breathe, okay? Weâll start thereâ
Myung-gi decided not to care about the unusualness of Thanos comforting him, so desperate for comfort heâd take anything. If it turned out to be a cruel joke thenâŠwell, thatâd be a bridge he could cross if he came to it.
A harsh squeeze brought him back to reality.
âOi, Coin-boy. I said breatheâ
âI-I donât know howâ
Behind them, Nam-gyu huffed a small chuckle and approached, standing by their sides.
âCourse you know how to breathe, MG coin. How the fuck are you still standing here if youâre not breathing? Youâd be dead, dumbassâ. He spoke with a light-hearted tone, trying his best to be somewhat âgentleâ, but poor Myung-gi, who was still shaking and chest heaving, just heard the word âdeadâ and- ohhh no.
His face crumpled and his hands left Thanosâ chest, grasping at his own, breathing coming out faster and shallower. âOh fuck- fuck, Iâm gonna die, Iâm gonna fucking die-â
Nam-gyu flinched and jumped back, Myung-gi practically dissolving in Thanosâ grip.
Thanos groaned and tossed his head back.
âUgghhhh, Nam-su! Whyâd you have to go and set him off again?â
âSorry, sorry! Uh-â He brought a hesitant hand to the panicked playerâs back and patted it awkwardly, utterly unused to comforting people, nevermind a guy he hated the guts of. âSorry, coin. Just- just calm down, okay?â
Myung-gi was doing anything but.
âLet go- let go of me, I have to get out of hereâ
Thanos could hardly keep hold of the man as he writhed and shoved without purpose, gasping. âWoah, woah! MG coin!â
âYouâre gonna be fine, idiot! Whatâs it gonna take to chill you out?â Nam-gyu had his hands raised like he wanted to shake the scammer out of it but something told him brute force wouldnât be too helpful in this situation.
âYeah, boy! Youâve survived so far, right? Youâre a smart motherfucker, whatever the next game is, youâll figure it out!â
Never in a million years did Thanos and Nam-gyu think theyâd be hyping up MG coin. It was surreal and so out of the ordinary it almost dissolved the panic attack right then and there.
Myung-gi desperately grabbed Thanosâ forearms. âYou think so? You think Iâm gonna be fine?â
The older man hesitated. He could break this off right now, push him away with a âjust get yourself togetherâ and walk off. Back to his corner, where it was just him and his Nam-su. Where they could resume zoning out and giggling at nothing.
But Myung-gi was looking at him with such a desperate, expectant fear, like he was the only other person who existed.
Ah, fuck it. Heâd already started this, why the hell not finish it?
He forced his face to soften just a little and breathed out slowly, like he was trying to rationalise just what he was about to do. âYeah. Yeah, MG coin. Youâre gonna be just peachyâ. He gave Myung-giâs shoulders a little rub, even forcing a smile.
âWhat if- what if Iâm not, though?â
Nam-gyu grinned, sensing the tension erode from Myung-gi. âThen you wonât be. But whatâs the point in worrying about that right now, huh? What is it they sayâŠâ he thought for a second before it came to him and he bounced on his heels, gesturing with his hands. âAh! Worrying about something just means you suffer through it twice! Right?â
ItâŠwasnât the best advice. Maybe if it had been in a different scenario, like Myung-gi stressing about a first date or issues with his channel, it wouldâve landed better. Made more sense.
But Myung-gi didnât care. The comfort, no matter how half-assed, was still comfort.
âLetâs try again with that breathinâ, boy. Come on, follow my lead. Weâll do it together- in through the nose, out through the mouth, yeah?â.
Thanos took a deep breath in through his nose, chest expanding, and felt relief that Myung-gi did the same. They exhaled together, and the older man could feel the younger relax his shoulders, the anxiety ebbing away slowly. It was still there- some basic breathing exercises werenât going to eradicate it completely. But at least it seemed to be helping.
They stood like that for a few more seconds, Thanos tracking Myung-giâs face to check for any signs of the spiral getting worse. Nam-gyu had tried to join in, more because itâd be awkward if he just stood there staring at two men breathing at each other, but the boredom and ridiculousness of the situation got the better of him.
He started to breathe purposefully loudly, In through the nose with an obnoxious sniff, out through the mouth with an even more obnoxious âHaaaaahâ. Couldnât that bastard be serious for more than thirty seconds?
âNam-su. Cut it outâ
âIâm helpingâ
âWhat, with Mongolian throat singing?â Thanos, still giving small absent-minded pats to Myung-giâs shoulders, tilted his head to face Nam-gyu. âHeheh, you sound like an old man on life support, broâ
âItâs the least I can do, reallyâ
âOr like one of them dogs with the squashed facesâ
âA bulldog?â
âNah nah, the other one. Looks like someone dropped mashed potato on the floorâ
âA Labrador?â
Thanos made a face and his shoulders shook. âDunno what kinda fuckinâ Labradors youâve been lookinâ at, boyâ
MG coin listened to them go back and forth like he wasnât even there. Annoyingly (or, maybe not), having some kind of normalcy was helping. Maybe he could pretend he was in a bar overhearing two idiots. Or a sports game, not that he ever really went to those. Or maybe even another universe completely. He wouldnât be surprised if those two were aliens from the planet âruin MG coinâs lifeâ.
âOi, coin. Yâlistening?â
Myung-gi blinked. âHuh?â
âI asked if you were feelinâ better. Donât wanna be babysittinâ your scamming ass til the next game, boyâ
Player 333 thought about it. He was still shaky, still experiencing palpitations that just wouldnât seem to quit. It wasnât anywhere near as bad as before, no way- but he still felt in a considerable amount of distress.
âIâŠI donât know. I donât think so, not reallyâ
He was expecting groans, or for them to go âwell, we tried, see yaâ and leave.
Instead, Thanos just rolled his eyes in mild annoyance and nodded. âOkay, man. Take your time, I guessâ.
Myung-gi was shocked. It seemed like they were really putting effort in here. Or, at least, as much as they were capable of when it came to him.
âWhy are you helping me?â He asked bluntly, fidgeting with the bottom of his jacket.
âDunno, really. Iâve been thereâ Thanos shrugged. He was staring with an uncanny level of intensity at Myung-gi. âThe whole thinkinâ youâre dying thing. Like the walls are closing in, like youâre not ever gonna feel right again. I wish Iâd had someone there for me when I got like that. Doesnât mean we like you or nothin. JustâŠdonât like seeinâ you all fucked up, is allâ
It was probably the most genuine, vulnerable thing Myung-gi had ever heard from him.
âYeah, and youâre no fun to fuck with if you canât react to us fucking with youâ
Aaaand Nam-gyu ruined it.
âGreat. Thanks, I guessâ
âAnytime, prickâ
Myung-gi groaned and shifted in place, shrugging Thanosâ hands off him. âMnnghâŠfeels like my heartâs gonna stopâ he muttered, crossing his arms tightly around his middle and shifting from foot to foot.
Thanos, without a single care for boundaries or personal space, grabbed Myung-giâs wrist and placed two fingers on the inside, where his pulse hammered.
He held out Myung-giâs wrist to Player 124, ignoring the âach- hey!â.
Nam-gyu let out a low whistle. âWoah, dude. How are you even standing upright? Iâm surprised you havenât dropped dea-â Myung-giâs eyes widened and he stared hard at him, skin prickling like the anxiety was about to amp up all over again. Thanos cleared his throat, clenched his jaw and very subtly shook his head, as if to say âDonât you dare say what I think youâre about to sayâ.
âUhâŠnevermindâ Wow, good save.
He slapped Myung-giâs wrist twice and then gave a toothy smile. âStill ticking! Youâre in perfect health!â
Myung-gi managed to scoff quietly, taking his wrist back and rubbing it. âI justâŠI think I need a distractionâ.
âA distraction, eh?â Nam-gyu replied, then pointed at Thanos excitedly. âWant Thanos to do a backflip off a urinal? He can, I saw him do it once at the clubâ
âYeah! Watch, coinâ Thanos, without question or argument, was already bouncing over to the urinals.
Myung-gi screwed up his face in a baffled grimace. âNo-! I- I donât want to see you do a backflip off a urinal. Jesus Christâ
Thanos made a face. He couldnât believe anybody wouldnât want to see that.
âWowâ he shoved his hands in his pockets and took long, slow steps. âThatâs what I get for tryna help, huh? Talk about ungrateful. Iâd have fans begging on their knees to see that shitâ
âIâm not your fanâ
âTch. Yeah. No kiddingâ
The atmosphere had shifted. Myung-gi was having an actual conversation with these two. A really absurd conversation, sure, but this was probably the longest heâd ever gone without being shoved at or sent into hysterics in their presence.
But still the anxiety refused to budge. He needed an actual, proper distraction. Not Thanos with his acrobatics, or Nam-gyu with hisâŠNam-gyu-ness.
It hit him suddenly, like a brick to the skull. Oh.
Oh no.
Thanos and Nam-gyu mustâve noticed his defeated demeanour because they went quiet and hovered awkwardly, like they thought he was about to breakdown all over again and were trying their absolute best to be as un-breakdowny as possible.
ââŠWassup, boy?â Thanos side-eyed him.
âYouâre not gonna cry for real this time, are you? You look like you areâ Nam-gyu leant back like Myung-gi was diseased.
Myung-gi sighed loudly and stared at the floor tiles.
ââŠCan you guysâŠâ he made a face like even thinking about what he was going to say was causing him physical pain.
âCan us guysâŠ?â Thanos, still hands in his pockets, leant forward.
ââŠtickle meâ
Nam-gyuâs jaw actually dropped. Thanos just stared at him, frozen, one foot in front of the other from where heâd been dancing in place.
There was justâŠsilence. For a while. It stretched on so long that Myung-gi started to hope maybe they hadnât heard him and he could pretend he hadnât said anything. This was a mistake, surely. An embarrassing, horrid mistake.
âThe fuck did you just say?â Thanos was starting to process the words that came out of Myung-giâs mouth, a disbelieving smile tugging at one corner of his lips. Neither junkie took their eyes off the scammer, who was now hiding his face in his hands.
âIâm not asking againâ he muffled. âEither do it or donâtâ
Immediately Nam-gyu started to move, face lit up, fingers wiggling playfully. âArms up, MG coin!â
And to his (and possibly the scammer himself) disbelief, Myung-gi actually raised his arms, blushing furiously at the floor.
âStopâ
Myung-gi blinked and Nam-gyu looked over his shoulder. Thanos took a step closer and rested an arm on the club promoter, who slumped dramatically. âStop? Why? The guy literally asked for itâ
âOh, I get itâ Myung-gi intercepted before Thanos could explain himself. âItâs only fun when I donât want it, right? Canât get your kicks if Iâm having fun tooâ He lowered his arms and pointed at Thanos. âYouâre a sick freakâ
Thanos held up his hands. âWoah, boy. Youâre making us sound like some twisted olâ pervertsâ he resumed leaning on Nam-gyu, one ankle crossed over the other. It was his turn to point now. âAinât nobody in this damn shithole that would love to see your stupid face freaking out more than us, but Iâm just sayinâ, man- I dunno how I feel tickling a guy having a panic attackâ
He thought back to nights backstage, bad trips from his younger inexperienced days. The anxiety attacks heâd have before his first few big shows. The crushing weight on his chest after the rap battlegrounds incident. The last thing heâd have wanted, or needed, back then was for someone to tickle him.
And if Myung-gi spiralled halfway through, it wouldnât just be annoying or unsettling. It would be more time spent having to be nice to him.
Nam-gyu piped up, hand splayed toward Myung-gi incredulously.
âHyung, he literally asked for it. Heâs fine!â
âYeah, well, last time the asshole bit meâ
âThatâs because you wouldnât fucking stop!â came 333âs exasperated reply. âIâll keep my teeth to myself this time, okay?â
Player 230 scratched at his chin and looked Myung-gi up and down. The guy was obviously still not 100%, but after everything- the weirdness of helping him out, the stupid banter between him and Nam-gyu, the forced breathing session- he did seem calmer.
Meanwhile Myung-giâs brain was almost imploding trying to process the fact that Thanos had the chance to destroy him- him, who was apparently the âreason they were there in the first placeâ, who they very obviously resented- and was hesitating.
âI mean it. It would helpâ
Thanosâ thoughtful expression gave way to a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. He held his palms up and loosened his posture, swaying slightly. âAight, aight. Go on then, asshole. Lie downâ
âWhatâŠhere?â
âYes, here. You think weâre gonna do this out there? lettinâ anyone think weâre pals? Go on, get comfyâ
Myung-gi examined the tiles. Surprisingly, for a hellhole bathroom, it was surprisingly pristine. He almost laughed at the idea of the masked guards coming in with mops and buckets like committed housewives and scrubbing the place head to toe.
âOkayâ he sighed, squatting down on the floor, trying not to look at either of the duo as they loomed over him. He hesitantly lay himself down, one arm under his head like he was relaxing in bed and notâŠthis. His cheeks burned and he stared at the fluorescent lights, trying not to regret his decision.
Myung-gi half expected the anxiety to come roaring back at full pelt, but it stayed constant. Not getting worse, definitely not as bad as it was a few minutes ago, but certainly not getting better. The cold of the tiles pressed against his back, lending even more to his shivering. His free hand pressed against his chest and rubbed in firm circles. He hated this feeling. Hated that it ruined his usual collected nature, hated that it led him into this position.
But what other choice did he have? Who else could he go to? Jun-hee? Sheâd probably spit in his face if she didnât get her new teammates to escort him away first.
The two junkies dropped next to him. Thanos crouched by his side, arm braced on his knee casually, and Nam-gyu settled behind his head.
He suddenly felt a hand tug at the arm cushioning his skull. His breath caught and he shot up so fast that Thanos almost lost his balance.
âN-No! DonâtâŠdonât pin me, okay?â
Nam-gyu looked at Thanos, hands still in mid-air from where he tried to grab Myung-gi.
âWhatever. Give the scammer what he wants, Nam-suâ He shrugged. It would be more satisfying to just hold him down and go to town but right now he had to be conscious ofâŠergh, boundaries.
Nam-gyu tskâd and leant his head on his palm. âFine, fine. If youâre gonna whinge about it MG coinâ
Thanos gently pushed Myung-gi back down, more condescension than genuine care. âCâmon, back down you go, boy. Let us take care of ya, yeah?â
Myung-gi let himself be lay flat, glaring. âUgh, donât say it like thatâ
âWhy not? Weâre doing you a favour, right?â Nam-gyu scooted closer so he was looking directly down at 333, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. âSoooâŠanywhere you wanna start with, MG?â
Myung-gi flopped an arm over his eyes, jaw setting tight. âErghh, I donât knowâŠmy stomach, I guessâ He purposefully chose a spot he knew wasnât the absolute worst. He was, embarrassingly, ticklish pretty much everywhere- but he didnât want to go straight into being annihilated. Thanos and Nam-gyu would absolutely take advantage despite the ânicetiesâ, so he had to choose his words carefully.
âOh come on, MG coinâ Myung-gi peeked out from under his arm to glare at Nam-gyu. What now?? Heâd already thrown his pride in the gutter, were they really going to drag this out any longer?!
âChoose somewhere elseâ 124 nodded toward the youtuberâs lower torso. âI canât reach down thereâ
âBUT I CAN!â
Before Myung-gi could process anything further, Thanos had his hands practically buried in his stomach, kneading and squeezing the taut muscle with a manic grin.
âAH! HEHEHEHEY! I WAHAHAHASNâT- HAHAHahaHA!â
The younger man immediately started kicking and flailing, nerves lit up. Without being held down his limbs had the privilege of thrashing and he reflexively slapped at his tickler- not because he wanted it to stop, but just sheer uncontrollable instinct.
âWhy you getting aggressive, boy? You asked for thisâ But Thanos kept tickling, smirk only growing. The slaps didnât really bother him- if anything it just made the whole thing funnier. As long as the scammer wasnât freaking out for the wrong reasons, he could do whatever he wanted.
âFuhuhUHUHUCK!â Thanos was using two fingers on each hand to pinch lightly on the soft spots of his stomach, which tickled way more than it had any right to. But still, he didnât say stop.
His back arched off the floor when those pinches turned into deep kneading, fast and precise, legs involuntarily kicking. Thanos was chuckling at how silly it all was, possibly needing this himself even more than Myung-gi.
Nam-gyu did not share the same sentiment.
âHey, I want in tooâ 124 frowned. âMG coin. Lemme tickle youâ
He couldâve just started anyway. In fact, on any other day, he absolutely would. He didnât care about Myung-gi, not really. Heâd proved that over the past few âsessionsâ.
BuuuutâŠthe man was fragile right now. Prone to overwhelm. As annoying as it was, and as little as Nam-gyu actually respected the cackling prick below himâŠhe had to tread carefully. Which, disgustingly, meant Myung-gi was the one in control right now. Ugh, he could just vomit at the thought.
Didnât mean he couldnât be a huffy asshole about it, though.
âMyung-gi-ahhâ He said flatly, watching another pitiful slap land on his Hyungâs wrists. He gave MG coinâs shoulder a light poke, once then twice. âDonât you want me to have fun too? Donât be selfishâ
But Myung-gi wasnât listening.
âIHIHIHIHIHI! FUHUHUHUCK!â
Thanos was still hunched over, fighting the urge to straddle him and just let loose (ugh, those damn boundaries again), one knee braced on the floor to steady himself.
 âTickle tickle tickle!â He sang in a childish, condescending tone. âWhoâs a ticklish lilâ freak? Is it you? Yeah it is!!â His fingers snuck under the scammerâs player jacket, changing techniques and now scratching lightly over the thin shirt. His clawed hands moved in circles, like he was petting a dog, nails skimming smoothly.
 Myung-giâs laughter died into light giggles, slaps devolving into justâŠholding himself around his middle, twitching and tittering. Trying his absolute hardest to restrain himself from shoving the two bullies away.
How on Earth would that have looked? All that fuss and build-up just to lash out and call the whole thing off. BesidesâŠthe laughter, the sensation of the tickling itself, was working to distract him. Thatâs what heâd asked for, right? A distraction?
 The urge to get away was purely an unthinking primal reflex- Consciously, for once, he wanted the tickles to keep going.
âHeheheheâŠhehehe! Ahahaha!â He couldnât help it- despite Thanos being gentle, it still tickled unbearably in that giddy, skin-crawling kind of way. He rolled away onto his side, only for a hand to grab his shoulder and pull him flat again, instantly diving right back in with barely-there scribbles and scritches.
âDonât turn away, man! This is makinâ ya feel better, yeah?â
Myung-gi giggled into his hands, flushing an even darker red, so incredibly flustered he simply didnât know what to do with himself. He had no idea what to say, how to respond. What the fuck was the procedure?!
He couldnât exactly curse them out; he didnât want to risk pissing them off and landing himself in real trouble. Sure, they were helping him now, but he was still acutely aware of their hatred for him. If he seemed like he was being ungrateful or throwing their âhospitalityâ back in their faces, they could switch on a dime. Unpredictable at their core, he wouldnât put it past them to choose to disregard his boundaries within seconds if they thought he âdeservedâ it.
âAsked you a question, coinâ drawled Thanos. He was loving this. The knowledge that Myung-gi had asked, that he wanted to be tickled, was just too good. Ohhh, the opportunitiesâŠthe things he could drag out of him, the things he could force him to admit. âThis is making you feel better? Isnât it? Câmon, donât be shy. Answer meâ
But Myung-gi couldnât. Admitting it would be way too embarrassing! It was a miracle heâd even asked for tickles in the first place!
The tickling stopped.
MG coin giggled for a few seconds more, like his body hadnât caught up to the fact the stimulation had stopped, and then justâŠfroze. Peeling his hands away from his face to stare at Thanos with wet, watery eyes.
âWh-whyâd you- hehe- stop?â
Nam-gyu sat back on his hands, legs still crossed behind Myung-giâs head. âAw, for real? I didnât even get a turn, manâ
âDonât stress, Nam-su. Just thought we should get some real gratitude from the guyâ Thanos patted Myung-giâs chest- partly as mockery, and partly to discretely gauge the younger manâs anxiety. Any fast, panicked jittering? Any racing heartbeats pulsing on his palm?
If Myung-gi was going to suddenly lose his shit again then Thanos could bear to put aside his spite and just keep going without messing with him⊠but if he seemed fairly stable? Not about to rant and rave about dying or whatever?
Well, there wasnât any harm in fucking with him.
âCome on, coinâ he purred, rubbing a slow circle- again, disguising it as mocking affection, but really just expanding his range to feel for signs of anxiety. Focusing on the heartbeat beneath. He pressed just a tad harder- and to his delight, unlike when they felt his pulse earlier, the rythym was steady. Still faster than ordinary from the giggle fit and wavering post-anxiety jitters, but yeahâŠMG coin was back in commission.
Thanos narrowed his eyes with a mean smirk, hardly able to contain himself. âWeâre doing this for you, boyâ
âWhat do you mean âweâ? I havenât done anything yet!â
âYou can have the next go, Nam-suâ
Myung-gi looked down at the hand on his chest, still meandering in clockwise circles. âI meanâŠyeah, it was making me feel better, sure. Look, can you just-â
âNah boyâ Thanos cut him off. âthatâs great and all, but I think we need a little more than that if weâre gonna keep going, right Nam-su?â
Nam-gyu, catching on, grinned half-lidded and flicked Myung-giâs forehead with a âYouâve got a point, Hyungâ.
He didnât let it show, but his breath caught in his throat- he hoped that the sudden sharp flick, out of nowhere and unexpected for Myung-gi, wasnât enough to spook him and ruin everything.
But, no. Myung-gi didnât seem the least bit fazed, not even bothering to shoot Nam-gyu a glare. Thank fuck. Nam-gyu didnât know if he could deal with another MG coin therapy session.
âI think he should say thank youâ
Myung-giâs head snapped flat on the tile to gawk incredulously at Nam-gyu. âWhat?!â
âYeah, MG. Say it. Say thank you, and youâll get your ticklesâ Nam-gyu continued. âyouâre lucky weâre doing this for your robbing ass. If thereâs no appreciation, why would we keep going, eh?â He flicked again, making sure Myung-gi could see his hand coming this time. âWeâll just leave you here, all alone. You think youâre ready to go back to your sad little bunk, no friends, no team? Just you and your thoughts?â
Thanos felt a shift under his hand as myung-giâs chest jolted, just ever so slightly, but enough that he picked up on it all the same. He felt a few dull thuds, stronger than the rest, and shot Nam-gyu a hard look.
 But he didnât notice, full attention on Myung-gi, leaning over him in an almost spiderman kiss-style. His words were getting too sharp, too serious, too cruel. Thanos wouldnât care usually, in fact heâd absolutely be joining in, but he could feel the muscle beneath his ringed fingers tense up, shaking slightly, Nam-gyu getting into his head and threatening to start everything up all over again.
âHey, Na-â
âOkay, okay! Thank you, alright?â
Nam-gyu, still oblivious, clapped his hands together and propped them under his chin. âAwhh, youâre welcome, MG coin!â
Thanosâ words fell flat in his throat. He was relieved that he didnât have to stand up for Myung-gi, especially to his right-hand man.
Myung-gi shifted uncomfortably, both from embarrassment of thanking them for something as stupid as this, and also from Nam-gyuâs scything words. The idea of going back to his bunk now, no distraction or relief from his anxiety, was enough for him to actually grab Thanosâ wrist (still pressed over his heart) and moving it down to his side. Thanosâs eyes widened at the boldness but he didnât pull away.
âJust- just carry on. Pleaseâ
Nam-gyu felt an uncharacteristic flicker of guilt. Just a small one. Hardly there, but there all the same. He didnât like that Myung-gi seemed obviously more shaken after interacting with him, like he was diseased, and that heâd grabbed Thanosâ hand and practically begged him for tickles. Like he was some kind of safe space. This was supposed to be a joint effort!
Why the fuck was he seeking comfort in Thanos and not him?! That bastard was just as cruel as he was, right? He said things just as horrible as he did, didnât he?
But he noticed how Myung-giâs fingers were gripped around Thanosâ slender wrist, hatred forgotten. How he was staring at Thanos and completely ignoring him. He hated it. His inability to see how much more heavy-handed his words were made him even more resentful, because in his eyes- he was only playing around.
Saying that, it wasnât that he wanted Myung-gi to like him. No, nothing of the sort.
But him and Thanos had always tormented him together. Theyâd became friends because of their shared resentment for the scammer, their same pain of losing everything because of this one man. And now, what? Thanos was just letting him get all cosy? Oh hell no.
He could be just as charismatic and comforting as the rapper, right?
Thanos was still staring at the grip around his wrist. He wasnât expecting the scammer to be so forward, especially after how embarrassed he seemed to be about the whole situation. Myung-giâs hand was cold, grip desperate and unwavering.
The pruple-haired man cleared his throat and sniffed. âOkay, MG. Sure, man. Quit gettinâ all weird on meâ and started squeezing in fast little pulses, this time distracting himself from the weird, unpleasant feeling he couldnât quite name. Pity, maybe? Surely not, though. Not for Myung-gi.
Myung-gi instantly fell back into giggles, worries already washing away. Thanos stretched his other arm out to squish into the other side. âGotta be symmetrical, boyâ.
He looked down, surprised to see Myung-gi tapping the back of his knuckles on his knee. Trying to get his attention.
âY-you- heheheheihihi- cohohome ohohohon!â Despite the giggles, Myung-gi still somehow managed to keep that annoyed tone to his voice, encouraging Nam-gyu to join in as if it shouldâve been obvious the entire time.
Nam-gyu couldâve made a snarky comment about âWas just giving you the choice, dumbassâ, but honestly? After his own mini-spiral, he felt a reluctant sense of relief. Instead, he grinned, all teeth, and settled his hands under MGâs arms with a playful âGotcha!â.
Myung-gi had to fight the urge to slam his arms back down, to curl up into a ball and escape the tickles when Nam-gyuâs fingers danced under them. Scratching mercilessly and giggling in that unhinged way only he could achieve.
Thanos was still destroying his sides, abandoning all self-restraint and vibrating his fingers into the divots above his hips, that awful spot that made Myung-gi almost knee him in the face.
For a moment there was no taunting, no sarcastic, nasty remarks- just the sound of MG coin laughing his head off. Occasionally heâd grab at Nam-gyuâs elbows, but not to push away. Just to ground himself.
Of course, there was only so long the two druggies could hold back their impish ways.
Nam-gyu was the first to break, grinning so hard his cheeks ached.
âAwh, look at him, holding on to meâ He drilled his fingers into a few upper ribs, earning a yelp. âYou good down there, coin?â
âAHAHAHAHAHAHA!â
âIâm gonna take that as a yesâ
Thanos had made his way to Myung-giâs thighs, burrowing into the flesh and making his legs tense from how hard he was trying to keep them from flying at all angles. âCourse heâs fine! Weâve put him through worse than this, right, MG coin?â he targeted the softness of his inner thighs, using his knuckles to grind in and shake at the muscles. Myung-gi grabbed Nam-gyu so hard his fingers burnt, trying so hard to just take it. âThis is us being real niceâ
âSH-SHUHUHUHuh-SHUT UP!â The hysterical man cackled, but it was more from being so flustered than real insult.
Nam-gyu and Thanos looked at each other briefly and feigned hurt.
âYa hear that Nam-su?â
âNam-gyuâ
âYa hear that Nam-gyu? Telling me to shut up like that?â
âItâs the only thing I heard. Hasnât gotten any quieter from last time, has he?â He replied, squeezing at where the tendons of Myung-giâs arms met his shoulders. The tickle was a different type of feeling that 333 wasnât prepared for, deeper and unbearable in that âholy fuck, get OFFâ way. He screeched (a sound heâd later deny making) and slammed his arms down, only succeeding in trapping the squeezing fingers.
âDamn, coin, I know you wanted this and all, but donât get desperateâ 124 teased and squeezed harder, working the muscle like dough. Myung-gi tried to curl up, resistance be damned, knees bending to try and kick Thanos off from where he was still ruthlessly pinching.
âOhohohOKAY! BREAK! BREAHAHAHAK!â the desperate words shot through the hysterics, Myung-gi windmilling his arms uselessly at anything within slapping distance.
To his surprise, they stopped immediately. Player 333 rubbed his elbow over his eyes, drying small tears in the crook of his arm. His face was so hot it could rival the sun, giggles still streaming from his lips. There was still a part of him that couldnât believe this was actually happening.
âAhhh-hehehe-just, just give me a sec, okay?â He murmured into his arm. âHoly shitâŠâ
âYouâre not giving up now, right?â Thanos gave a harsh poke to the thigh, making Myung-gi snicker and jolt his leg.
âN-no, Iâm fine, just-whew- just let me breathe, holy fuckâ
Thanos and Nam-gyu stared down at him. Truthfully, they wanted nothing more than to just dig right back in and make him scream, but even they knew better than to push too hard right now.Â
âSure, man. Catch your breathâ Thanos nodded and played with the seam of his pockets, trying not to look too interested. Nam-gyu shook out his hands, trying to seem serious but giggling despite himself.
âjust take shallow breaths, or whateverâ
Myung-gi swatted at him. âI know how to breathe, fuckheadâ
âYâsure?â 124 rubbed a thumb under MGâs eye to brush away a tear. Myung-gi justâŠlet him. âThatâs not what you were saying earlierâÂ
âYeah, well, that was earlierâ
âSo itâs helping then?â Thanos nudged his foot against Myung-giâs. âFeeling like youâre still gonna burst into flames?âÂ
MG coin took a deep breath, like he was test-running his own lungs.Â
ââŠyeah. Yeah, itâs helpingâ he muttered. There was an undeniable tinge of shame to his voice, and he burrowed his head further into his elbow. He hated that he felt grateful for these two fucks having turned up at the right time, but the alternative? Him being alone, tweaking out in the corner of a random cubicle, clawing at his own chest? Well, it could be a lot worse.
âCan we carry on, or what?â Nam-gyu blurted in the bluntest, driest tone imaginable, like myung-gi needing any recovery time at all was a great inconvenience.
âGive me a fucking second, I said!â
Nam-gyu rasied his hands like heâd just been burnt. âOkay! Shit! Not gonna do anything unless you say!â
âExcuse me if I donât trust youâ Myung-gi said without any real bite. âYou donât exactly have a history of listening to meâ
âJesus, boy, you sound like a damn therapistâ Thanos snorted, dismissing him. âSo dramatic, eh?â
333 flipped him off weakly- which, for a moment, he feared would piss them off into treating him to a real âNam-gyu and Thanos specialâ, but Thanos simply flipped him off right back.
âOkay, okayâ he flopped his arms backwards, practically onto Nam-gyu, offering himself up. âIâm ready. Go for itâ
But as soon as their hands approached, he squeaked and flinched and drew his limbs close to himself in a protective manner.
âYo! The fuckâs wrong?â Thanos withdrew his hands, looking at him like heâd grown a second head.
âYeah, coin. Wastinâ time over here. Donât want that nasty anxiety to come back, do you?â
âSorry, sorry! I just- I know itâs comingâ
âSo?â
âSo, I canât help it! Itâs just a reflexâ
âGodâs sake. Just likeâŠclose your eyes or somethinââ
âUnless you want me to hold you down?â Nam-gyu said with far too much excitement.
âNo.â
Suddenly his vision turned black as a firm hand came over his eyes.
âFine. This better?â
âAh! What the fuHUHUHUHUCK! HEHEHEHEY!â Electric shocks of sensation shot up his sides, his stomach, under his arms and his ribs as suddenly there were hands everywhere, tickling madly. With his sight obscured, every touch seemed to tickle 10x worse, and he gave up trying to hold back instinct and thrashed madly.
He heard them laugh, delighted at how much he was losing his shit. Nam-gyu pressed down harder, using his free hand to dig at his ribs, up and down up and down, making him laugh so hard he almost went silent.
Thanos had his hands in âspadeâ positions, vibrating and shaking into the flesh of Myung-giâs abs and moving them slowly outwards, targeting his sides and even going so far as to shimmy them beneath Myung-giâs arched frame, âmassagingâ into the muscle.
Myung-gi felt his knee connect with something soft and an âOW MG coin!â from Thanos, but the tickling continued.
âSOHOHOHO-AH!- SOHohohORRY!â He squealed, hating himself instantly for apologising like he was some kind of guilty child. Sure, heâd asked for this, but after everything prior theyâd put him through? Well, they were lucky it was just a knee.
âPff, whatever bro. Next time Iâm kickinâ you right back, you little shitâ He hardly heard the reply, but could somehow register the tone as more teasing than genuinely threatening. It wouldâve shocked him if it werenât for today being the weirdest day of his entire life.
âYou sound so happy MG coin~!â Nam-gyu sang, fluttering his fingers up Myung-giâs neck and collarbone, making him hike up his shoulders. âYou enjoying this? Yeah?â
âHa, yeah, Coin. Tell us how much youâre lovinâ thisâ
âNOHOHOHOHO! FUhuhuHUCK OFF!â
âWell, shit. Sounds like you kinda want us to stopâ Nam-gyu moved his tickling hand away, and-
âNo! Dohohont!â
âOh, donât? Donât what?â
Thanos worked in tandem with his lackey and halted his own fingers, still lightly tracing but not enough to do anything but pull light giggles out the scammer. Myung-gi couldnât see him, either of them, but he knew they were grinning. Ugh, assholes.
He couldnât believe he was about to say this.
ââŠDonât st-stohohohop, okay? There! I saihihid it!â
âAnnnnd?â
âAhahahandâŠIâm enjoying ihihihitâŠâ
âAwh! Good little scammer!â
Myung-gi yelped as the tickling resumed, harder this time. In a way, he was glad he couldnât see them- he didnât know if heâd ever recover seeing their gloating faces after admitting he was enjoying being tickled. By them. As a grown man.
What he wouldnât tell them, though, is that his anxiety had disappeared minutes ago.
What they wouldnât tell him, but would definitely laugh about to themselves later, is that they knew.